[center [center [google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Coming+Soon][google-font https://fonts.googleapis.com/css?family=Reenie+Beanie][size18 [Coming+Soon [+slategrey [b [size25 [#0eaccd s k i n ]]] [div [pic http://i.imgur.com/YHEedjy.png]]
It was just the beginning - the first of more to come, but nobody seemed to be able to find a motive. Some speculated that there [i was] no motive. Others pegged it as revenge.
Somewhere in the world, someone was getting wronged every second, of every minute, of every hour, of every day.
With so much hate... how wrong could it be to purge the world of just a little?
Yeah - that was the more noble side of it.
But what if his intentions were not? What if the only cause that mattered, was pure satisfaction - to sate a craving beyond control?
Your character has posted an ad in the paper advertising for a roommate, and that's when my guy comes along - quiet, clean, clearly keeps more to himself - and very much needing a place to stay.
This is basically a plot following our characters and all of the crazy things that happen once they start living together.
Romance is welcome but not required! There are going to be [i dark themes] in this plot, fair warning, and the main characters should both be [i male].
The age limit on characters for this will be about 24+, and as I said, they should bot be male. They're going to be roommates, basically, living in a two-bedroom shared flat.
[#0eaccd Interested?] Drop a [http://rp.eliteskills.com/pm.php?u=52081 PM] titled [i [b [#0eaccd dark]].
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Klauss' hand lingered. It was just a moment, but Remy couldn't help but notice. His eyes flicked to Klauss', searching for something he didn't expect to find. What were the chances, anyways? But was that... a flicker? He had to know.
He said nothing to Klauss' offer. With as little free time as Klauss had, how could that possibly be the case? But it was kind. And in the end, wasn't kindness all they could really offer each other?
No, he should reply. It was an offer that deserved a reply. "Same," he said at last. "I've been a bit short on human companionship of late, so I certainly won't turn any away. No matter what."
"I can get my own tea," he said with a chuckle. Klauss had gotten the food, so it was only fair. "Would you like me to brew you some?" He put a hand on Klauss' shoulder and let it hesitate a bit too long. Long enough to send a signal, if Klauss was looking for one.
He shouldn't. He should keep it strictly roommates. It was still too soon. The pain of Taylor's betrayal still hadn't faded. But it didn't stop him from reaching over the shoulder and down Klauss' chest for the chopsticks. "Want to just share the containers?" he suggested. Not bother with the plates, and if they ended up Lady-and-the-Tramp-style sharing a noodle, they'd figure out where this went.
[center Somehow, it didn’t surprise Klauss that Remy knew the feeling, perhaps quite well. Was that something those on a similar wavelength could sense? Whatever the case, he was glad he wasn’t alone. Though, it did make him wonder what caused it for Remy.
Still, even those thoughts couldn’t save him from the spiral. It made his chest tight and his breathing shallow, but the warmth of a hand set to his shoulder managed to pull him back to Earth. As if it was just that effortless, he had been plucked and placed back where he was supposed to be - no longer spiralling out into black space and empty abyss.
Forcing a smile, Klauss shook his head. “Not soon enough. We’ll start eating the dish towels at this rate.” He touched the hand that had saved him from his mental anguish gently, his own settling there for a moment before he withdrew it.
He didn’t want to trap him, or worse, think he was making a move. It wasn’t his place to... Right? They were roommates, and to make things uncomfortable that way was something he wanted to avoid.
Now on the other hand, if the interest was mutual between them, that would be different, but he didn’t want to send the wrong signs. Especially I they were particularly creepy ones, at that.
“You know, if you ever want to talk... or even just... not talk and want some company, you need only ask. I don’t even need an explanation. But the offer is always there.”
Just as soon as he’d spoken, the bell chimed to beckon him to the door. Klauss took the cash to cover the food and tip with him and returned with a rather weighty bag to set atop the counter.
He grabbed a couple of plates and some glasses for drinks.
“Wait, do you want something hot or cold? I also asked for chopsticks, just in case you have a preference.”]
It was like the whole world stopped and everything was torn away. He stared at Klauss for a moment, wide-eyed. How had he--was the man a mind-reader? Was he being too mopey? Was it that obvious?
No... from the wistful look on Klauss's face and the distance in his stare, this had nothing to do with Remy. Reality stepped back in, the sound of the oven heating and the pan popping, cars passing outside. Remy turned away. "Sometimes," he admitted. Sometimes.
Like when he was about to settle in with some takeout with a near-stranger, and he remembered the times he and Taylor had gone out at the drop of a hat, sat in sunshine and laughed and talked, talked and laughed. Like when a chill made him shiver, and moments later he felt the weight of a blanket settling around his neck, the brush of fingers on the hairs at the back of his neck and the warmth of a body that wasn't there settling in against him, the way Taylor used to wrap arms around his waist and hold on.
Reality felt cheaper, now. Empty. And as much as he tried to move on, he felt like the bargain-brand version of himself. Undesirable, unwanted, unlovable.
"Sometimes," he muttered with a sigh, and moved to the bedroom to fetch that blanket for himself.
When he returned, he found Klauss stricken, almost paralyzed. He stepped in and put a hand to the man's shoulder. "Klauss," he said, watching the other man's eyes. "Are you okay?" He laughed. "Food will be here any minute, no need to get so nervous." It was an easy way out. Klauss didn't have to tell him anything if he didn't want to. And they were all stressed by the recent murders.
[center Something about the way he said he was hungry made Klauss chuckle. For a second, it seemed more desperate situation than a tonne of murders sending the town into a panic. "They're estimating about a half hour, but I assuming that's to prep the food, because the place I ordered is just down the street."
Thoughtfully, he gazed over at the window, sighing. "You ever get those weird moments of clarity that make you feel super nostalgic? This time of year does that to me a lot."
It made him yearn for happier, simpler times. Sometimes... it was even a little damaging to think of the man he was now compared to what he'd been. To count all of the souls missing from his life - to count all of the mistakes he'd made thus far - that was what really did him in.
Moving in with Remy had been something of a reset for him - or so he'd thought. But history seemed to be repeating himself, and for just a moment, he felt a pang of fear.
What if it truly [i was] repeating itself? What if he was the one--
No, he couldn't think like that. Things were better now. [i He] was better now. He didn't do that anymore. He would never be that man again.
It had to be someone else. This was coincidence and nothing more. He had long chased off that daemon - the one who demanded blood. It simply wasn't possible. He wished he could ask Malcolm, as much as he couldn't stand the man, if he had noticed anything.
Had he seen anything? Had he destroyed any evidence? Was there another secret he was keeping from him?
The panic rose in him, muted but reflecting in soulful eyes as he spaced. His gaze was a million miles away, and whatever catastrophic event was going down in that head of his had made him pale. ]
"Sure, why not?" Remy agreed. A little of everything sounded great. He was always so indecisive, and besides, he wanted to have everything at once. Sharing a couple dishes sounded perfect.
He nodded. "I... can imagine," he said. "She was so close to their age. I'd be worried, too." He was worried, even as a fully grown male older than any of the other people the murderer had attacked so far. Assuming there was one killer. But what else could it be? The town wasn't big enough for there to be so many unexplained murders without something being really wrong.
He shrugged. "It's going fine, in any case. Even if I told you about it, you'd probably just get bored." A lot of complex chemistry stuff, and even though the end result was pretty interesting, the way to get there was pretty boring. Unless Klauss was legitimately interested in hearing about reactions and tons of paperwork, which he doubted. No one wanted to hear about paperwork.
It felt weird, having a normal conversation with someone. They weren't talking about work, or chemicals, or things he couldn't talk about with other people. Just a casual conversation with a friend. It felt like ages since that'd happened.
Remy sighed and leaned against the countertop. "I'm hungry," he complained. "Hope they get here fast with the food." If not, he might have to eat all his cookies, and that'd just spoil his dinner.
Quite cute when he was flustered, wasn't he? Klauss chuckled at his short-lived cluelessness and pulled up a menu from one of the local spots in the meantime. "I'm honestly rather indecisive about that myself, so I settle for getting both. What if we got a few different things and split it all?"
Seemed like their best option, all considered. He watched Remy bustle about the kitchen and at last set the cookies in to bake. He did him he small kindness of turning the faucet on for him and shut it back off once he was finished, offering him a towel with which to dry his hands as he leant against the breakfast bar once more.
"You know, I'm not entirely sure how to describe work right now. It feels like most days just run right into one another. Sure, I have some students here or there who are sincerely interested, but everyone seems to be distracted by recent events - so much so that it's making for little productivity."
Not that he blamed them. It was quite something to get caught up in, and for all they knew, anyone one of them could have been later targeted.
He sighed at the thought, thinking about what a mess this had all become, but what was to be done about it?
"I know you have to keep it under wraps, but at least know that I am curious and do care for how that's going."
Something about this evening made him feel nostalgic. It deeply echoed happy times of past, and the recollection of the last time he'd actually spent an evening with someone without any sort of target goal, such as work or business, triggered a small pang.
Wearing his cookies? What was Klauss on about? He looked down at his hands, then at the flour smeared on Klauss' hand from where he'd brushed it off Remy's forehead. He blushed. "I'm usually cleaner than this," he muttered. How embarrassing.
He nodded. Didn't want Klauss to get killed. That'd be even worse than Esther's granddaughter. Remy made room for the other man to help with the cookies, picking up a fork himself. He went along afterward and put the trademark crossed-fork-lines on the cookies, marking them as peanut-butter. He didn't know why they did that, but they always did. It was the peanut-butter decoration, or something.
"I'm good with Thai," he said. "I can never decide between the noodles or the curries, though." He snorted. "They're both so good."
The cookies had been placed. He picked up the sheet and carried it over to the oven, sliding them into the heat. On days like these, he felt like he'd be comfortable if he slid right on in and curled up inside. He shook his head and shut the oven door instead. He was toasty enough out here with his blanket.
Remy sighed out. His hands were gross, though. With a shake of his head at himself for being so sloppy, he crossed to the kitchen sink and rinsed them off. So much wasted peanut-butter cookie dough.
"So how was work?" he asked, glancing at Klauss. "Which work was it today, anyways? Your schedule's so busy I can never keep track." A little bit of chatting was just what he needed to distract him.
[center The upset was all too evident in the way he abused the poor cookie dough, and for a moment, there was nothing Klauss found that he could say to make anything better. What was there really to say? He had already said he was sorry, which really meant very little as there was nothing that would make such a thing better.
"I'll find a place - any preferences?" He prompted gently, reaching over cautiously to swipe away the flour Remy had managed to smear across his forehead. "At this rate, you'll end up wearing the cookies instead."
He fished his phone from his back pocket and quickly googled some food places that delivered near them. "But on that note, I'll definitely be cautious. I rather like being here. And as for my cooking, I'm flattered you enjoyed it so much."
Well, had enjoyed Malcolm's cooking so much. It would have tickled the man to know, and he was desperately aware of his own desire to keep that information to himself.
"Sure, I'd be happy to." He affirmed, washing his hands and fetching a spoon for the task.
Had it been Malcolm, Remy would probably have to take him away from the bowl in a choke hold. From what he knew, he apparently loved sweets. Klauss, himself, was impartial. He enjoyed them, but he didn't necessarily go out of his way to have them - or make them - as it were.
Still, it was fun to be able to at least do this much with the man after so little time spent together.
"How do we feel about Thai?"]
He looked at Klauss. Eggs? It was considerate. He wondered if he'd have to pay for Klauss' eggs, then dismissed it as ridiculous. Eggs weren't worth enough to have to worry about that.
A bowl clanged onto the countertop, good, old metal that'd last longer than he would. He started mixing the ingredients, putting some of his anger into the ingredients. Frustration coiled in his stomach too. The spoon rattled against the walls of the bowl. Why Esther? Why her granddaughter? She'd done nothing to deserve any of this.
"I won't, but it doesn't--she's already dead." His being careful wouldn't sort any of that. He huffed out and wiped his forehead, accidentally smearing flour across it. No. He shouldn't snap at Klauss. Klauss had nothing to do with this. He just had to calm down. Remy shook his head. "Sorry. I'm just--a little tense."
A killer on the loose. That was the real problem, the thing he hadn't been thinking about, the thing that'd just been driven home for him. He spent so much time alone. Outdoors, in a car, on his way to or from work... a stop in a park could be the end of his life. And it'd happened. It'd happened to someone he knew. It could happen to him. To Klauss. "You be careful too," he added, after an awkward pause. "It took me forever to find a good roommate." Remy swallowed his emotions and managed a smile, trying to change the mood. He didn't want to feel like this. Scared. Alone.
Surprised at the offer, Remy glanced up. "You want to--" he stopped. Maybe that was just what he needed to take his mind off of things. Sharing a meal. Another milestone away from Taylor. He nodded. "Sure, why not? Takeaway, I've got the whole kitchen occupied right now. Sorry about that." He flashed a grin at Klauss. "I can't wait to try your cooking again, but it looks like I'm going to have to."
With a big dollop of peanut butter, he finished off the cookies and started the last phase of stirring them up. The oven beeped to let him know it was ready; he grabbed a cookie sheet from the shelf and glanced at Klauss. "Want to help me plop them down?" he offered, nodding at the tray.
[center "I'm so sorry..." He murmured, doing his best to be sensitive to the circumstances. After all, it was someone dear to someone he had actually known. Which was... what were the odds of that, exactly? Klauss moved into the kitchen to begin putting things away, but he left the eggs out for Remy, offering a helping hand where he could.
"I'm not allergic, no." So this time he would have the opportunity to watch Remy work. Very nice.
As he took up seat on one of the stools at the breakfast bar, his gaze trailed the other man about the kitchen with interest.
"I truly am sorry about your friend's misfortune. Perhaps just be careful about staying out too late, yeah?"
He'd hate for any danger to befall him on his way home from work or otherwise. After all, he did care for him - even if they weren't that intimately acquainted as yet.
"Cookies aside, what do we want for dinner? Do we cook, or do we indulge in takeaway?"
Whilst he could cook, it didn't come as easily to him as it did to Malcolm. That was more so his area of expertise, oddly, and it burned him something terribly to admit that. Sometimes, he wished it was all in his head. That he didn't exist. That he was just a dream that came to him on occasion and left him feeling at the very most unsettled.
But reality could be cruel, and his more often than not was. The way things currently stood, they tolerated one another, but friends, they were not. He wished it could have been different.
Who knew, though. Perhaps someday they would actually learn to coexist happily. And it was a day that couldn't come soon enough.]
Remy sighed, looking up at Klauss. "The girl who was killed... she was the granddaughter of the receptionist at work." He shook his head. "It doesn't hit you until it's close to home, huh?" It'd seemed so distant just last night, but now... now it seemed far too real.
He sighed. "Sorry, it's... you know." He shook his head and wiped his face down. He shouldn't bring this stuff home. "Oh, thanks for the food, I appreciated it. I had it for breakfast." He grinned. "I didn't know you could cook like that!"
"I hope they catch that madman." He sunk against the pillows of the couch. He couldn't get over it. It was so sad. The poor girl. Esther. She didn't deserve it.
He stared towards the window. It was a lovely day outside, but it felt wrong, somehow. Like it should be stormy and dark tonight the way it'd been last night. Instead, it was sunny and bright, even this late at night. Soon, the sun would go down, and it looked to be a beautiful sunset. Wrong. It all seemed wrong.
Distraction. He needed something to do. Remy jumped up and headed into the kitchen. "How do you feel about chocolate chip cookies?" he asked. "I'm in a baking mood. Or maybe peanut butter? You're not allergic, are you?" He shot Klauss a concerned look that turned into a smile. "I've got a secret recipe, you'll love it."
Remy rolled up his sleeves and started getting out all the ingredients, the flour, the butter, the sugar. Cookies were just what he needed to distract himself.
[center Such sad news, but a necessary thing - at least, to the one who had committed the act. He couldn't be made to take responsibility for others' foolishness. Truly, when it came down to it, we all forged our paths, and when it had come down to it, at his hand had been where theirs had ended.
That day, Klauss had finished work early for the day. Typically he would have spent long office hours grading, but he was so exhausted. He wanted no more than to go home and rest.
Somehow, he'd ended up at the market picking up groceries, and on his way home he'd taken care to stop by a dessert shop to pick something up for the flat. Didn't hurt to have some sweets around. Good for the nerves, in his opinion.
When at last he had come home for the day, he deposited his grocery haul and shrugged out of his coat, distinctly aware, somehow, that someone else had been there.
[i Him?] Just the thought made him uneasy. They didn't share the absolute personal details about their lives, but they knew enough to keep up appearances in the absence of one another. To think that he had been there and Klauss had only just realised didn't bode well, though.
He hadn't left him any indication as to whether or not there was anything to know, and that was [i very] unlike him. Keeping secrets... it was a recent development he couldn't say he approved of. Especially when the balance between their two existences was so delicate.
"Hey-- you look so... crestfallen. Everything okay?" Clearly, it was not, but he was hoping that approach wouldn't make Remy feel too pressured to divulge, though he was happy to listen.
"Or is that exhaustion? It's difficult to tell sometimes, honestly."
He was startled to find a note waiting for him in the bathroom. Remy reached out and plucked it off the mirror, rubbing sleep out of his eyes with his other hand. In the thin light of morning, he read: [i Check the fridge.]
Curious, he wandered out as he brushed his teeth and checked the fridge, as the note demanded. There was a tupperware right at eye level with his name on it. He adjusted his glasses and peered inside; looked delicious. Damn, apparently Klauss could cook! It looked like he'd be having curry for breakfast.
He glanced around the room. No Klauss. Must be sleeping in. He made a mental note to thank the man the next time he saw him, and a second mental note to buy toothpaste on the way in to work.
Work was full of bustle and noise when he got in. The receptionist was surrounded by his co-workers, and when he approached to badge in, he noticed it was Sarah today, instead of Esther. "Where's Esther?" he asked lightly.
The whole group turned to him. "Her granddaughter was murdered last night," George hissed at him, and Remy went more pale than usual. He hadn't meant to be rude!
"I'm so sorry," he said, looking down.
A card was shoved in front of his nose. Remy signed it and let out a sigh. Esther was such a sweet old woman. She didn't deserve this kind of heartbreak. He'd never met her daughter, let alone her granddaughter, but it was still cruel, no matter what kind of people they were.
His spirits remained low all day. Not even the prospect of working with the new reagent could excite him. When he returned home, he let out a deep sigh and collapsed into the couch. It didn't seem fair. Poor Esther. Her granddaughter, torn away so cruelly. It wasn't right.
[center That was too bad... Not that he was surprised, but there had been a small hope that he would defy his schedule, if only for a little while. No matter, though - they had plenty of time for that. What with their being flatmates and all.
"All right, not to worry." reassured Malcolm, head tilting forward graciously. "Friday, then - no pressure." Though, he would have so loved to have at least been able to sit down with him over tea tonight.
No matter, they had Friday. He would make sure of it. To his knowledge, Klauss had no plans for that day, so it only seemed fair that he should get to claim it for himself. Besides, the plan had already been made. There was no way to back out of it now without an excuse that sounded too cheap.
Moving from the doorway, he sauntered to the kitchen, fingers combing through his length, though cropped, locks. It had been growing out nicely. Not to long, as he'd requested, but none of that military bullshit Klauss insisted on.
Opening up the fridge, he had fetched his fresh ingredients, and from the pantry, all the other fixings that would make this meal worth the time it would take to prepare. He kept it relatively simple, but it was filling and delicious. And despite the fact that their flatmate had turned down his offer, he was happy to put a labeled tupperware into the fridge for him and leave a note on the bathroom mirror.
Too intimate? He didn't think so. He was the most likely to see it in the morning if it was obstructing his view of himself.
Once that was done with, he returned to his bedroom to settle in for the night. Oh, he was [i so] looking forward to Friday. ]
There was something about the way the man moved that was just a little... off. No--he dismissed the thought. It was too late at night. Probably just his mind playing tricks on him. "Oh, thank you," he said. He squeezed out a dab and handed it back.
"I am committed, I've an early morning and all," he said. Had Klauss not been listening earlier? "Unfortunately. I'd love to try your cooking sometime, though." He grimaced. Honestly, he wished he could stay up late. He hadn't gotten the chance to see Klauss cook or share a meal with him due to their odd hours--something he desperately missed without Taylor in his life. He looked away, then met Klauss' eyes again, hope sparkling in the depths of his. "Maybe Friday?"
He retreated reluctantly with his toothbrush and headed into his bathroom to wet it, but returned to the door of his room to watch Klauss cook while he brushed. Just watching someone else bustle around the kitchen twisted a sick jealousy deep in his heart. It should be him. Him and Taylor, and this their house, their home...
But it wasn't. And this was the harsh reality he had to face. If he had it thrown in his face, then there was no denying it. No thinking they could possibly get back together. No... nothing. Those days were gone. He had to chin up and face forward.
"Goo'nigh," he muttered around his toothbrush when he finished brushing, and no longer had an excuse to watch Klauss' trim form move expertly across the kitchen. Friday was only one day away. He could wait that long... though it smelled delicious right now, even through the minty toothpaste.
Remy shook his head and turned away into his room. He had to be up early tomorrow! He couldn't stay up tonight, no matter how good it smelled!
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