#it might be bad cause it was rushed but whatevssss

[briars7]

💉Fine Fellow for a Faux Friend #4💉

Hiya! Back again. Figure I should probably add ⚠️trigger warnings⚠️ and whatnot, so here you go. Mentions of death, torture, needles...who knows what all.

Gotta realize, if I’m not gonna take on a lover or one night stand, sure as anything aren’t on the lookout for a friend. Order of importance being what it is. They’re just as likely to be stabby, even if that’s made more difficult by the physical distance. Lack of emotional distance can make you just as blind. So I don’t have “friends”, and never expect to.

Doesn’t mean I won’t have a few favorite people I like to pick on. 😜

So far it’s mainly been this one other assassin, scary lady and by all rights one I should know to leave well enough alone, but never really do. One of these days I’ll break that stoic expression!! Just you wait! She tends to be gone on missions a lot seeing as how she’s one of the best at our jobs, and I was wandering the hallways looking for another muse to meddle with. Ooo! Screams! Thaaaat...is actually something I’ll leave be. Usually. Can’t save ‘em all. This guy’s were tapering off though, and eh. Maybe I’ll take that hallway to my next...undetermined destination.

Heheh! I’m in luck! A vaguely human-ish lump with matted black hair was kicked out of a doorway right in front of me. Tch. That particular door belongs to one of the assassins who likes to “experiment” with interrogative chemicals. Usually with a sadistic bend. Sometimes a subject needs encouragement to get talking, sure. But I don’t like using the drugs. We all have our methods.

Doesn’t mean I won’t carry an antidote around though! Well, it’s a sort of panacea. Basically got a small chance it’ll work the one thing you’ve been dosed with, but it’s better than nothing! I stick it in the general area where I guessed the lump’s shoulder to be...orrrr that’s his backside. Eh, it works. And that’s the end of it. Don’t care what happens to the dude from here. Based on how the assassin treated him, it’s obvious the man isn’t a pet, i.e. personal slave. Neither is he one of the staff, cause I know all of them. Whatever. Grunts like this one don’t last long, but I don’t feel like I’ve wasted perfectly good antidote. I do what I want, and the less of a reason the better. It’ll just be something else that’ll kill the guy later.

“You can thank me later, mate.”

Having done my good deed for the day, I’m off to continue my search for the next pranking victim.

🍊🍊🍊

About say a week later I’m interrupted from a catnap. Might not think it difficult to do, but I’m rarely found resting in my bedroom, you see? Annnd...I tend to fall asleep in the oddest of places. Like the belfry that’s hardly ever heard from. Don’t often have a need for ringing the massive bells here. Smaller ones are used to keep the time and trumpets harold important guests. The ones that don’t prefer to remain anonymous.

You wanna know who had the audacity to wake me up? And the intelligence to locate me...but that’s beside the point. It was Grunt! That’s the nickname I’d given him. And a few others in his position. Well well, whaddya know? He’s still alive!! Heheh! Not only that, but he was also the guy who’d gotten between me and a beating a month back. How in the world...? Usually you might have some small chance of surviving in the Citadel as a pet. Grunts like him barely last a week. I’d give him kudos for making it this long, except I’ve got my dagger keenly poised at his liver and ready to cut his winning streak short.

“Morning, sleepyhead. Brought you breakfast.”

The trickle of blood running down his abdomen didn’t seem to bother him in the slightest. Grunt held out an orange to me, his eyebrow quirking along with one corner of his mouth. Not fair! I’m supposed to be the one smirking and looking all smug, not blinking the sleep out of my eyes and grimacing. Snatching the fruit out of his palm, a glance out the window confirmed that the sun was setting and it was high time I begin my nightly prowl. Huh.

This...giant of a man...had figured out my schedule, and found one of the places I slept on rotation. No one else had managed to do the latter for sure. Had a habit of switching up sleeping patterns too, but that was redundant when my sleep didn’t last long. Oh yeah. To top it all off, he knew what I liked to eat. Like...what the fruit? Nobody bothers to find out that much about someone else unless they’re trying to kill them. Er, at least in my world. He doesn’t stand much chance in doing so, but that leads me to wonder; what’s this guy’s agenda?

I wipe his blood off on my ragged trousers and use the blade to begin peeling the citrus’s skin instead. He wasn’t the only one who’d done his research. Though I hadn’t been able to wring much from the one who’d dragged him to our hellhole. “Whatcha doin’, bringing me fruit...Derrick.”

The man winced, looking into my eyes with his gone wide. I get it. Nobody’s used his name for a while. Probably since before he got here. Grunts don’t get names. They’re called whatever deplorable term comes to mind at the moment, and expected to respond. I could understand that, in a way. My names were always a step above, but...the actual handle never used.

He gestured while his mouth worked on finding speech, “You're the one who told me to thank you. But it’s a question too. You’re also the first person who’s been nice to me.”

Grinning, I talk around the juicy slice I’m masticating, “This is a complicated piece of fruit! Not hearin’ a question, Derrrrick.”

The words seemed to explode out of him in one big rush. “Why would you do that? I won’t be your pet. Not happening. Let’s get that cleared up first.”

“Bwahaha!” Oops, think I spit out a bit of orange there. That’s where his mind went? Guess I can’t blame him, pretty much the only use most of the denizens round here would find in going out of their way to help him. Sure he’d make a good pet. Tall, built like an ox, not too bad looking—got a mouth on him though and that’d make him less desirable. Whatevssss, man. I don’t take pets. Liability. He didn’t need to know that though...right away.

“You’re missing out! I mean, look at the cool places you’d have to sleep in, the diet you’d enjoy. Wouldn’t be required to do anything toooo dirty...maybe wash the blood out of my clothes from time to time. Beats bein’ everyone’s whipping boy.”

The shifting expressions of growing determination and frustration crossing his face were too much and I ended up cackling before he could come up with a rebuttal. “I’m joshing you! Don’t have to look so uptight about it! Oh man. The look on your face though!! Priceless.” I’m gasping for a breath, maybe a bit more dramatically than necessary, but eventually his exasperated glare eases up a tad and I continue.

“Listen, Derrick. I just wanted to. Only reason I do anything...not required by a mission.” I lean back on my perch. One good shove and I’d be flying out the window though, so as relaxed as I looked, I didn’t take my eyes off of the guy. His jaw was working almost as hard as his brain had to have been, and I wonder again what his story was. How come he hadn’t bent to the rules governing this place that required subservience or been broken in their demand of the same.

You know what? I’m curious. Sort of morbid, but I’d like to see how long his mind will hold out if his body’s given a chance.

Stretching long in the sill, my hand extends to shake his. “Name’s Rapscallion, but you can call me Rap. Ever you need something, holler. Maybe not too loudly, don’t need the entire castle hearing...could get crowded if you catch my drift. You can repay me by promising not to try to kill me too. Deal?”

His icy blue eyes flick from my hand to my face and back again, acting for all the world as though I’d grown a third head and turned purple. Like I’d said, it was be a bit of a leap to think he could take out someone with my level of training and expertise, but come on. The dude’s twice my size. There’s the added detail that I’m constantly paranoid, so...this agreement I’m asking for is more cause of the latter. The muscle bound man turned around with a shrug and started the descent back down the stairs. “You got it, Rap.”

Not quite the reaction I’d been looking for, but I’d take what I could get.

Stopping suddenly, he gives me yet another strange look. “No more needles, got it? Whatever else you want to do, I hate needles.”

And off he goes. You do know what this means though, right? I’ve got a sorta friend of my very own! Far as exchanging names and a nonextermination pact can make it. Don’t care! I’m pretty psyched! Gonna be teasing the patience outta this one.

#rapscallion #writing #assassin #oc #medieval #gottaloveoranges #friend? #nah #derrick