Unease

[Rook]

Rook sure felt it, right down in his bones, but he made a concious effort to distract himself. Perhaps he was just tired and ought to really take a nap.

Though he was filled with vicious, sleepy energy. It was the rain, perhaps.

His hands never jittered as he kept a steady hold on the fiercly vibrating controller, his hands were calm even when his mind was fevered, at least as they slept in their deep, deceptive hibernation.

It was an old model, no VI, just flat on a screen, almost like when he was a kid.

Except in the old games the characters hadn't been quite so close to home...

Rook winced visibly as the figure on the scren (a small pixelated version of himself, pony tail, snout, claws and all, it seemed) was hit square on the head with a grenade he had been too quick to dodge. The Little Rook made a funny noise, and the small series of beeps (which apparently passed for music in these games) struck a melancholy chord.

He exploded.

Tiny arms and legs flew out of the bounds of the square screen, Little Rook's suprised expression was captured for at least six seconds as his head slowly fell and rolled off the flat virtual landscape which always seemed to end in some sort of cliff.

A black fog enveloped the brightly colored world Little Rook had been previously kicking virutal ass in.

the words GAME OVER declared his fate in ominous red print and the music turned into a threateningly comical (DA-da-da-da-DUMM!)

Rook sat staring for a moment and then turned the damn thing off as quick as possible.

If I was a religious man I'd do a couple sweet prayers at that.

The thought of Big Rook meeting a similar fate was not too out of bounds either, considering his line or work.

He tapped his chin idilly.

Maybe I should do 'em anyway.

He cracked a weary smile, it was funny after all, there was no denying that.

He let himself lounge back into a sitting position on the couch. He was tired from a long day ( just police work today. No missions. Killer went home hungry), and though the game had not been exactly the best outlet for stress relief, it sure relieved any feelings of optimism or energy that had been getting in the way of his sleeping pattern.

Thank the Gates for small favors.

He closed his eyes for a few moments.

[light]

Jamie made her way down the iron halls, pausing only once or twice to give the customary bow to different groups of Powers as she happened to pass them. Despite these interruptions, her long stride and hurried steps brought her from the Table’s antechamber to the Recreation Room within a matter of three minutes.

Her dark hair was pulled into a tight ponytail that still managed to curl in its usual unruly fashion, and tickled her neck. Jamie’s expression was one of aggravation, while her eyes were cold and precise in their rapid movements around her, taking in everything.

She was edgy lately, school was on break, and she had had no missions as of late. Her frustration was mounting, making her more prone to mistake. That was why she was delivering the message to her father. Any task, no matter how undignified would be better than this waiting.

Face set in a firm scowl, she made more noise than usual as she entered the Recreation Room; usually she was always careful to keep silent and prepared as a predator should be. However, she did stop cold when she saw her father’s dozing form on the couch. It made her feel guilty for being bad tempered. But the damage was done, and if he hadn’t heard her, she would take him to the Infirmary to make him preform a check-up.

Now with a concerned gleam in her eyes, expression otherwise smoothed, she began making a pot of coffee. Jamie finished and poured two large mugs, nearly burning herself in her hurry. More careful now, though her hands trembled with their own tiredness, she made her way over to the couch, quietly this time. She chose a stiff looking chair and sat down.

“Hey Daddy, she murmured, “got you some coffee.” Not looking into his tired eyes, she handed him the larger mug of coffee, “I’m sorry I woke you, but you’ll need this.” Jamie said no more after that, waiting for him to ask why she had roused him up. Why bring up bad news immediately? To discourage questions for a while she asked, “How have you been this week, I’ve barely been able to tell you good morning for four days now, what’s up?” Then sipped at her drink, attentive, but giving the impression that she had a mouthful of scorching hot liquid, and was therefore too busy to answer any questions…

[Rook]

There was a soft sound, akin to the rebooting whirs of one of those last Old Computers, just before they had gone completely silent, he had indeed heard her in the hall...the part of him that heard everything.

Regulus however, had been in a light doze, enough to dream, for some reason, of sailboats.

Rook's eyes opened when she loomed over the couch where he was seated, he blinked, winced almost instinctively, there were dark circles under his eyes, a healing cut on the top of his forehead, a matching one at his lip, bruises around his neck and jawline, the usual, but these always came and went in cycles throughout the year and they were nothing Jamie, least of all, would have been suprised at.

Rook's fangs flashed in a half grin, he reached, instinctively, habitually, to grasp his enourmous, warm, rough paw over his daughter's free one.

One ear raised,and the other lie flat as he took the the coffee more than willingly breathing deep in the aroma and taking a long sip before speaking, perhaps it was best, as his voice would've been impossibly rough, it came out more or less articulate, though not with the eloquence it had when he'd had at least one drink

"Ahh, Christ", it was a soft, deeply relieved sigh.

He paused for half a second and then looked up at her, the smile returning, though it was pained, half with guilt and half with weariness. "Thanks, hun. " his ears flattened "I'm sorry hun, I've had missions back to back, but today it came up dead. Just patrolled all day, diddn't even get to look over the apprentices" he added on a blatantly bitter note "Dunno why they just diddn't give me the blasted day off. Wet as sin and not even a traffic ticket. Can you believe it"?

This banter was not magicked, but it was compulsively evasive, Rook never went into detail with Jamie if he could help it. Of course there had been discussions, she knew everything she could possibly know about what he did, (well, the surface things), but since she'd been a little girl Rook had operated on a kind of agreed self deception.

Perhaps more for his sanity than hers.

He squeezed her hand slightly harder and repeated in a quieter voice, one of someone who had their doubts confirmed "'m sorry, hun".

The cycles raced faster it seemed, with every year. Almost too fast for him to keep up.

He looked into her eyes, raising an eyebrow and saying more soberly, his eyes narrowing slightly, though more observationally than spitefully

"What're you up to"? He knew it was close to the end of her apprenticeship (of course he had to know), and she wouldn't be idling here with him in the middle of the day, as much as she missed him. She would have waited, had she been busy.

A message? a Voice added. It had warring aspects of deep, desperate weariness...and hope. A mission?