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Latest revision as of 17:37, 24 February 2011
The couch felt good tonight for some reason.
There, in the comfortable surroundings of Dae'sa Jones' apartment, secured within the cushions of the couch, Slyden Marcus sat deep in thought. He had just seen her in the Spring Dome, it was briefly of course, but more than enough to lift some of the weight that was currently residing on his heart. She had been working, he figured, so he didn't want to interrupt.
It was now that he decided to address some of the issues that threatened to drown him. It was now, with the warmth and security this place offered while his senses lingered on the scent - the presence - of the other who lived here, that he let his mind roam.
The most pressing of these matters was the recent conviction and imprisonment of Greyeyes Stormtemper. Slyden didn't disagree that the Demarian deserved what he had received, not at all. In fact, he would have been enraged if he /had/ been allowed to skate any reprimand.
What troubled him was that he had been a member of the board who had sentenced the ill-fated Corporal and that it was his vote that set the pace for the other officers present.
Now, however, was no time to question his judgement and the morality of it. He was a man who stuck to his word and his decisions. Perhaps that wasn't a good thing always, but it was the way he'd been since as far back as he could remember. He liked it that way sometimes.
By now, the cool evening breeze was blowing through the open window while a lone flickering candle on the countertop gave the only illumination as it sent hellish shadows dancing through the room, each wildly jerking at Slyden. He ignored them as his mind moved onto other things.
Brandy.
It was good brandy, Slyden had to admit to himself. Good brandy indeed. The only problem was was that he hadn't a clue how he had acquired it.. That's not entirely true, he thought, he knew exactly how he had acquired it. He had found it sitting on the stoop of the apartment yesterday with a piece of paper slipped beneath it's edge, his name scrawled on it. There was only one problem wrong with that, he judged. It was unsigned.
At first he had thought the bottle was from Dae'sa. Though that lasted a total of three seconds as he realized that she would've given it to him in person.. Wouldn't she?
Then, earlier today in MacBeth's, he had agreed to a drink with Firemane - A female Demarian on Jest'liana's crew roster. There wasn't anything wrong with that, he assumed and was indeed quite right. That is until the Demarian ordered brandy with a faint quirk to her lips.
That alone still shouldn't have meant nothing, but it was the fact that only a week prior Slyden had been, for lack of better words, flirting with the feliniod. He had been joking of course, but now he contemplated if the Demarian had been as well. Had she been serious? He thought to himself with a small shudder.
It didn't matter that much, he concluded. If he didn't find out who had sent the brandy at least he'd have a bottle of nice liquor as proof that he had done /something/ for someone that they had felt inclined to reward him for. Besides, that rarely happened, why question it when it did?
The hours tolled by silently as the world around Slyden slowly 'drifted' away from the artificial sun which warmed and heated the Spring Dome, one of Sanctuary's attempts to recreate a natural habitat within itself. It worked, he thought, it gave him something to look at instead of the cold emotionless bulkheads he was used to. As Executive Officer of the SCS Gettysburg - The new Vanguard Flagship - he often had his moments of solitude when doing paperwork and there was indeed alot of it. It's at those times that he longed to get away from it all, to escape the pressing matters of his job and the situation around him. He would never fully succeed, he figured, but he'd try his damndest in the meantime.
A look to his chronometer and he nearly yelped in surprise. He had been sitting in the apartment, alone, for nearly three hours now. What was worse was that he hadn't noticed it that much. Whether this was a good sign or a bad one, even he wasn't too sure.
Dae'sa would be home soon, he figured. Whatever story she was working on, she would pack up her research material and bring it with her. He smiled at that, she worked hard, very hard and deserved some rest. With Sanctuary's current status and the public's thirst for knowledge of current events, it wasn't likely she was going to get any anytime soon.
Again, Slyden smiled. He smiled because he knew he loved her more than he thought he could ever care for someone. Sometimes, in moments like this where he had time to think to himself, his thoughts would wander over the first time they had embraced, the first time they had kissed.. It was also at those times that he never thought his lips would level out again.
There were, initially, worries. He remembered them well enough. She had needed time to decide who she wanted, if anyone, between himself and Remy Lebeau. Slyden had given her this time she needed and it was at this moment that he realized the true depth of his devotion to her. Even if she had picked Lebeau, he would be there to pick her up if she fell.
On that night she had told him, 'Slyden, you're the one I let sleep on my couch.' Something inside him twinged, and it twinged again now, lips curving into another smile that promised not to leave anytime soon.
She was with him, though for the life of him Slyden couldn't understand why. He was in no way a perfect man. He had faults. Alright, Slyden laughed quietly to himself, I've got alot of faults.
By now his eyelids were growing heavy, he was exhausted but Slyden forced himself to stay awake. He was determined to talk to Dae'sa when she came home, let her know what he was thinking about. That was another thing which he adored and cherished about her. She listened to him.
Fifteen minutes later the candle's last thrust of fire shot from the wick, silenced forever and leaving Major Slyden Marcus in darkness. Asleep.