Closed RP Ill Intentions

This RP is currently closed.
Slate

Slate

Member

Obsidian was drowning. He was drowning in paperwork, most of it for contracts for Stonewall. There was a hand buried deep in his red curls, keeping them pushed off his forehead. It was all paperwork that needed to be done by the weekend, which meant it really needed to be done by Friday to be submitted properly on time. He took a deep breath as he looked down at what were likely fifty more sheets of paper that needed his reading and signature. Business with the security company had started to boom.

He had become so focused, that the lights had begun to dim in the office, as he pulled shadows from the corners, as his skin had begun to darken with them. He didn’t notice at all as he quickly browsed the papers. He didn’t stop, not for a long time, until a knock came at the door. He waited for it to open, now that they had knocked, but after a moment, it remained unopened. He looked up. On the other side, he could just barely make out the energy signature of Rowe.

It was calm, like a forest before a storm. He could almost visualize the green trees and the storm clouds overhead, but without the wind that they usually brought with them. “Rowe. You can come in.”

His voice carried, he knew, to the other side of the door, without him having to raise it at all. It was never the voice that people expected, not for Obsidian. Something deep and intimidating was usually what people expected. But Obsidian’s voice, when he wasn’t angry, was even and almost melodic, higher than most people expected. It wasn’t until he was angry, when the edge crept into his voice, that people felt they were really dealing with “Obsidian”.

He took a breath as he waited for the door to open, trying to release the shadows that clung to his skin. It would still be too dark when Rowe opened the door, and he’d see the gradual wisping dispel of the shades.​
 
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Jerry Rowe’s boss was a monster. He’d known that from the first time they met, and it was a truth that lingered in the corners of his mind at all times the way the shadows lurked in the corners of the room when he opened the door. It tinged everything he did, these days. The knowledge that Obsidian wasn’t just a meta – he was a predator, a maneater. A merciless killer.

However, as they’d recently learned, Obsidian was also fragile. Jerry had let the boss go to the bank unsupervised, and he’d come back with an arm that had shattered as unnaturally as his movements, leaving him in a sling he was still wearing when the door swung open. Luckily for business, Obsidian was apparently just as good with his right hand as his left, and was able to keep up the more licit side of Slate's assets just fine. Since then, however, Jerry hadn’t let him go very far without supervision. Even going to see Mary had been a little too long and a little too far for comfort. Jerry Rowe was a professional, after all. If Obsidian got hurt again while he was gone – well. That’d be a blow to his pride as a bodyguard.

He stepped quietly into the office, quietly closing the door behind him. He then stepped up to the boss’s desk, unbothered by the gathered shadows. While Obsidian was a monster, he didn’t scare Rowe. He was a monster who cared for his own, and Jerry Rowe – Quartz – was as close to one of his own as an ordinary human could get.

He folded his arms behind his back in parade rest, his face neutral. “Afternoon, sir. I have a report on the Redblood situation.”
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The shadows dispersed throughout the room, and the light returned in full. Obsidian sighed softly as he felt himself fully untense. His broken arm, shattered in four separate places, still hung in its sling. It was healing remarkably well according to Pearl, but he was still not supposed to push it. Not supposed to use it unless he had no other option. So right handed for the time being he was. For once, he was glad for the ambidextrous training that he and Malachite had received from Brightheart.

A pang went through his chest at the thought of his lost brother, and he instead turned his whole focus onto Rowe. He lifted an eyebrow. It had barely been three days since the incident. That was a quick turn around. “Right. Give me your report, then, Quartz.”

The crystal name slipped from his lips with ease, as if it were always what he was supposed to be. There was something about the man that was comfortably reliable and strong. A quiet strength, the kind that you didn’t see until it was needed. He felt… no. No. Ethan would not be thinking about that. He wouldn’t think about him, no matter how many of Rowe’s mannerisms matched his. It was military training, he knew, and nothing more.​
 
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Rowe was…getting used to the name “Quartz”. However, because he was working, it was easier to brush it off. This time. There’d need to be a conversation in the future – but now, he had a report to give.

“I spoke with two of Marius’s men. They’re interested in rejoining the Jackals proper. They confirmed the two individuals who visited him that night: young women, dark hair, most likely metahuman. The only name they got was Mary, who they suspected to be the same Mary as the one who’s founded the anti-meta militia. When questioned, Mary confirmed she killed Redblood, although she didn’t share the identity of the second girl. That’s all I have for you, sir.”

He remained at attention, not taking the seat across from Obsidian while he spoke. He’d been invited to take it before and had politely declined. Business was given standing at attention – he was working, after all. Some habits never went away.​
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Ethan cracked his neck as he listened to the standard report. Everything about it seemed normal until the last line, at which point Ethan had just been putting pen back to paper. He froze for a moment, not the tensing of shock, but a gentle pause. Then, he scribbled a few more signatures on the papers.

“You went to visit Mary?”

He looked up from the paperwork, his face perfectly set to not give away anything he was feeling. Which was good, because the pang of panic wouldn’t have been good for him to display. He wasn’t even sure where it had come from. Quartz was doing what he’d asked of him, even if he had gone above and beyond. There shouldn’t have been a response of panic at the idea that his human bodyguard– so human, so frail, unable to regenerate or shoulder off a bullet– had visited Mary. Mary, who he felt he might know. If it was the Mary he was thinking of, she certainly had been making waves.​
 

The pause was telling. Obsidian’s movements were always so smooth that unfortunately even the smallest hesitation was highly visible.

“You asked me to take care of it, sir. The way I figured, it’d be easier for me to get a conversation with her than any of the others.”

A flat fact, given in the same professional report-tone he’d been using. He didn’t react to the pause, though it gave him a bad feeling. Not like he’d done something wrong – he wasn’t a guilty child, or even a standard subordinate. But he knew what Obsidian thought of himself, and he knew the regard he held humans in, even without being told out loud.

He just braced for this to become a very difficult conversation he’d been trying to avoid. Maybe that was why he added, “She said to tell you hello.”​
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Obsidian sighed, slowly. Of course it was the same Mary who had tried to rob him months ago. He couldn’t have been lucky enough for it to be someone he hadn’t met. God, that was going to be a fucking hassle to deal with in the future. But it wasn’t the main problem right now. The main problem was that Quartz had put himself in harm’s way– without needing to be.

“While that’s true, there’s no need for you to endanger yourself here. I wouldn’t appreciate it if you died.” He went back to the paperwork, signing away on the pile of papers that still laid out in front of him. There was still a lot to do, but this conversation was going to need to have happened anyway.​
 

Yep. The conversation was happening now. Jerry didn’t let it show in his face, but he’d suspected this was going to come up at some point or another. He remained calm and stoic, and never took his attention away from the boss.

“You asked me to take care of it, sir,” he repeated, in the exact same tone he’d said it before. “And with all due respect, sir, you’ve employed me as your bodyguard. I am being paid to potentially die in your place.”

And there wasn’t an ounce of bitterness about it. Jerry Rowe knew exactly what his worth was – and to be a damn good body guard, you sure as hell better be ready to die to do your job. It set him apart from other people in the business. It helped he didn’t have anything else really going for him – two ex-wives leeching alimony off him weren’t exactly encouragement to keep going.

But Jerry was good at his job. He wasn’t suicidal. There was a fine line there, too.

“I went with sufficient preparation. And, if I may, sir. If I hadn’t, who'd you have sent to do it?”​
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There was something about his attitude. Something that was so familiar it hurt. He’d seen Zeheb at work, before. He’d heard this kind of talk. Zeheb had been a Marine before he joined the Philadelphia PD. And with that memory, his face softened a bit. Rowe wasn’t Zeheb, and would never be. There was nothing like that between them, nor did Ethan want there to be. That didn’t mean he wasn’t a strangely painful reminder of the man he had once danced nights away with and sang obnoxiously loud on road trips with.

“I would have sent Sulphur, or Hematite. You’re right, you’re being paid to potentially die in my place– This was an unnecessary risk for you. I wasn’t there, there was no need for you to put yourself in her path.”

Ethan looked up from his paperwork, and something about him seemed smaller than it did before. The energy that made him larger than life wasn’t there. The energy he had when he was fighting, when he was leading, wasn’t there. This was just a man. Just a man who wanted to look out for his people, of which he now considered Rowe. Quartz. Quartz were a dime a dozen, just like normal humans. But Rowe was good enough, and Ethan wanted him around enough, that he had given him a [i[]name[/i].

“I want to keep you as my bodyguard for as long as possible. If you die because you did something stupid like go above and beyond my orders, then I won’t have a bodyguard anymore, will I?”​
 
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