multiversallogs | Today, life is good

Entry tags:

Today, life is good

Who: Boromir and Faramir

What: 'Tis a Tale of a Most Epic Reunion of Bros

Where: Just outside the Inn

When: Soon after Faramir's arrival

Warnings: May ~~contain ridiculous amounts of sentimentality~~ INDUCE PUKING OF RAINBOWS ALL OVER THE PLACE

Once he stepped outside Faramir closed his eyes for a moment, exhaling softly. The cool breeze on his face revived his spirits but his hands were still cold, his chest aching with the aftermath of the onrush. All of his memories before the world had turned dark were sketchy at best and it brought a pain of doubt and uncertainty with it. Had he then fallen in battle, thus being reunited with his brother in death?

He opened his eyes again, taking in the view around him, his hand running idly over the Inn's wall. What a strange place indeed, with doors that would not open and devices that would allow you to speak over such vast distances.

He briefly considered pulling the CiD out and examine it again but other things were far more important now. Watching expectantly he strained his ears for the familiar sound of hooves.

Flat | Top-Level Comments Only

Faramir ducks his head briefly - there may have been one too many dibs recently towards the wizard's pupil - but still smiles meekly at his brother's words because he knows they there is only fondness behind them.

Clockwork and lightning. Curiosity soon gets a hold of him and he steps forward to have a better view at the tracks.

"Faramir--" A hand goes out to pull him back. Boromir doesn't look stern but he points to a yellow line on the platform. "It's dangerous to get too near."

In the distance is the noise of something coming along the tracks. "Look, you'll see why."

Although it's slowing down, the train is certainly going at a fast enough speed than what they're used to. Not to mention it's very large and made of metal.

"Dangerous?" Looking back over his shoulder Faramir is just about to inquire what the yellow line refers to when the unfamiliar sound reaches his ears. Frowning at Boromir in confusion he turns his head to look back at the tracks - this time from a safe distance - but when the train is pulling in he stumbles back against his brother, eyes going wide.

One hand comes to rest immediately on his bow as he watches the construct move and come to a screeching halt.

"I fear it won't do much good to shoot at it." It's said mildly, as he puts out an arm to steady him.

"Clockwork, lightning and metal carts." Nearby, the doors open. "Come --I assure you it's as safe as riding on a horse."

Although considering how Faramir's first few riding lessons went, Boromir tries his best to push that thought out of mind.

"Only mere seconds ago you claimed it dangerous," Faramir points out with a bit of a huff. He tenses up when the doors open on their own accord.

It is only his brother's words that make him let go of his weapon and step forward tentatively.

"And so is riding a horse if you do it the wrong way." He steps foward onto the train, turning around and keeping his hand on the frame. "Quickly now, or the doors will close and you'll be left there on your own."

If that reminds Faramir of the sing-song lilt Boromir would get in his voice when they were children doing something they shouldn't, oh well.

And that gets him to move. With one last, brief notion of hesitation Faramir finally steps forward, following his brother into the cart just in time. He winces away when the doors hiss shut behind him, then straightens up a bit.

"And this mountless carriage will take us to--" He is forced to stop and windmill for balance, startled by the sudden jolt when the trains starts moving again and quickly grabs one of the bars for support. "... You are enjoying yourself, are you not."

Boromir grins. Only a little, Faramir. "This will take us to the central station, a large place where all these carriages congregate. There, we shall step off and take another that can journey towards Sobek Croix. This one does not travel in that direction."

He takes a seat and ushers his brother to the one next to him. "Sobek Croix is a fine area of the city, and more similar to Middle-Earth than others. It is where I reside and it is where Hellsing is stationed. Hellsing is a private army that battle any dark forces that besiege the city. I am recognised as...a captain, of sorts. They call it something different; a senior field agent."

"There is more than one?" Faramir shakes his head slightly. He tries to listen to Boromir but his gaze is drawn towards the window, watching as streets, buildings and people fly by.

"A senior field agent..." What an odd word indeed. "This city is at peril then?" It is more a statement then a question really. Some things will probably never change - not even in death, or so it seems. Not that he truly expected to find peace here, that would be a novel concept in their life.

"Often enough. Within a few days of arriving here, we were under attack from all manner of creatures. Wretched black eels which sent out a noise that caused illness. Giant clawed beasts with small primates clawing themselves out of the greater creature's stomach. It was then I became acquianted with Sir Integra Hellsing."

She made him a sandwich and called him about a job some days later. And that was that. "Little more than a month later, there were giant ants creating plants that made people sick. I was instructed to go on a quest by the gods of this city, along with others."

"Then of course there are the more unruly citizens who dabble with dark forces or have no shred of valor in their hearts. Most here are good people who would wish to live peaceful lives, but there are others who would spoil that peace."

"And those who stand in their way to defend it." Faramir can't help but smile at the tales he has been told. It is just so much like his brother to fend off the wretched creatures of this place and go on divine quests.

"The wonderous things you have seen! You must tell me all about it."

Boromir smiles, a little sadly. "Perhaps some other time, or at least after we have rested. Your coming here has truly lifted my spirits but there have been dark times of late. A captain of ours died not long ago. We were not great friends, but we were comrades, and Dean Winchester was a good man. His loss has been deeply felt throughout the Guild."

Now that is something he can relate to. Faramir leans forward to rest his hand on Boromir's arm for a moment.

"Then I shall keep my questions while the city remembers his bravery."

Faramir might not know Dean but if Boromir regards him as a good man that says a lot and quite enough for him.

After a change of train and more travelling, it's a decent walk until they reach what looks like a small village (http://multiversal.wikkii.com/wiki/Neighbourhoods#Sobek_Croix) that wouldn't be out of place in Medieval Europe and is not entirely dissimilar to somewhere like Bree.

"Welcome to Sobek Croix." If it sounds as though Boromir is relieved to be back, it's because he is. He can deal with the rest of the city for work related reasons, but it's good to have some respite from the chaos.

Faramir, too, finds himself realxing at the sight. After the overwhelming impressions of the day the familiarity here evokes a certain feeling of arrival and peace.

"It is hard to believe we shall still be within the same city walls," he points out, letting his gaze wander. Walking next to his brother he unconsciously starts picking up a few strong branches here and there - while he brought his bow with him he has long realized his quiver is empty.

"Indeed. It is not the only place a man can go to walk and gather his thoughts. There are some forested areas, and farmlands if you head far enough in the other direction. Although it not a wall that surrounds this city."

There will be plenty of time to explain that. For now, it's comforting but odd watching Faramir go about doing something that was once so familiar. Boromir can't help but grin.

"Come --my table is Hellsing's table. We shall dine at the Guild Hall for now. I must admit, I left my duties unattended when I rushed to meet you. I am sure Sir Integra and the Princess Nuala understand, but I cannot be neglectful for too long."

"I wish not to keep you from your tasks."

Faramir smiles, even though it is strange to have his brother talk of a duty other than their homeland which he was always so adamant about. He shoves the branches into his quiver for now, following behind. He is curious about this Hall Boromir is talking about. And the royal people he mentioned and seems to be working for.

Boromir smiles fondly. "You are the only person who has ever managed to so far, and given the circumstances, I believe that is more than understandable."

Faramir might not be too surprised to learn that Boromir has merely transferred his drive, his need for a goal to work towards, onto the Guild. Hellsing is a noble occupation and a necessity, but Gondor is his one and only love.

The twenty-first century Earth term for it is 'workaholic.'

Workaholic indeed. Faramir should have known that his brother would not be idle - not even in death. Somehow, that brings a great comfort and fills part of that gaping hole Boromir has left behind in his passing.

"Well." He smiles back at him. "I had plenty of time to master that skill."

"And here you are to keep me tested in case this city becomes too simple."

He leads Faramir towards an impressive looking building (http://multiversal.wikkii.com/wiki/Hellsing_Guild_Hall) and while Boromir does the requisite signing-in, he turns to his brother and mentions, "It would be best to stay close. There is powerful magic that guards the building from intruders, and friends must be accounted for."

He chuckles briefly at that. "Will you account then for me, brother? I promise I will not run off these days."

Halls guarded by magic. It seems that the more he sees the more his mind will be tested by questions.

Still, he made a promise to respect the dead, so he patiently waits for Boromir to finish the entrance ritual, letting his gaze wander and marveling at the ornamented structures above them.

Boromir laughs, trying not to think about what's actually in Hellsing's basement (or who). Yes, there are so many things to tell.

"This way to the dining hall." It's after lunch time, and it's not like many Hellsing agents keep regular hours anyway, but there's still some food on the go. Not that Faramir will recognise much of it. "Ah, it seems as though there are hamburgers today. Although don't let the name fool you. It's made of beef."

He goes about helping himself to the hot plates stationed in a little in between area of the kitchen and dining hall. "Is there anything you look the look of?"

"I shall try the ones with the misleading name then."

Not that he would be very picky right now. The food smells delicious and he spent a long time out in Ithilien with only the bare necessities. His brief stay in Minas Tirith had not exactly been a festivity with hearty meals either and the excitement of meeting his brother has even spurred an appetite that was lost in the dark days of late.

Once their plates are sorted, there are plenty of tables to sit at, and it's quiet enough that they can expect not to be disturbed unless something blows up in the city (in which case he's obliged to leave, but nothing less until then).

Before they eat, Boromir looks at him quite apart from the euphoria he's felt since knowing Faramir was in the city. "I expect you must have many questions."

There has been a small knot of unease growing in him this past hour, in relation to the Fellowship, his failure and his death. The same knot that had gradually begun to fade these past months as he sought to move on with his (after)life. Now he wasn't sure how he would be able to answer his brother.

Faramir sits, placing his plate in front of him. When he looks over to meet Boromir's gaze his own expression turns somber. "And so must you."

There is, however, an air about his brother that he cannot quite place, something in his expression Faramir can't remember having seen there before.

It is probably to be expected. These were not happy days and they are not happy stories to be shared. Despite the wonders of this city and their reunion it remains a tale of death and darkness. It makes Faramir wonder how much of that will be mirrored in his own expression.

"It has been many days since we spoke. Much has happened."

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject