Private Tales Sins of the Father

A private roleplay only for those invited by the first writer
Of course if Alistair wanted to waste time on torture and making his father endure a long, drawn-out, agonizing death, Ralene might have rolled her eyes and begrudgingly agreed to go along with it. That he simply wanted to stab and dash was a fresh take that she was grateful to hear coming from his lips.

"Good," she replied after a moment, "the less evidence you leave behind to trace it back to you, the better. Anyone could be framed for a stabbing." But not just anyone could be framed for runes carved onto flesh and torture of the magical variety.

"Remind me again why Liliana has to go along?"
 
Alistair was competent enough to not leave any evidence, at least he told himself that. He also had a lot of faith in Elise Virak's ability to manipulate the situation.

"That was Lady Virak's stipulation, which I am more than ready to agree with...Why? Do you have a problem with Liliana?"

He thought about the two and could quickly guess that they would not get along. Both were...forceful in their own ways. Shit, he would have to make sure he did not get killed by his own team, while he was trying to finish all of this.

"It won't be that long. It will be over, she will leave, and then we can just finish your mission."

Ralene
 
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"Yeah," Ralene glowered at the question, "I don't trust the little bitch."

It was no secret that Ral had it out for Liliana. The blond liked to think she had everything under control, but Ralene had caught on to her little games early on. One of her first complex Runic Alchemy inks had been the one on the back of her skull - it protected her mind from not just Liliana, but anyone else who might try to control, manipulate, or otherwise influence her from the inside out.

For the most part she didn't cross paths with Liliana very often. Especially not for the last year or longer. The Proctors kept Ralene busy with missions away from the Academy and either by sheer luck or by Liliana's own meddlings, they'd never been assigned to a mission together.

So this would be a first.

Ralene didn't like it one bit, but she'd never been one to complain. If Liliana was only along for the killing then she'd do her best to deal with her while she had to.

"Good. Watch yourself around her - nothing is secret and nothing is sacred."
 
Of course, she did. Alistair sighed as all of his planning was looking more precarious by the minute. Why was he kidding himself? His 'planning' was a total of like two minutes old.

Alistair had only ever been on one mission with Liliana and he had never experienced his magic used on him. At least, none that he knew of. Wow, mind magic seemed a lot scarier if you did not know when it was being cast on you.

"I'll keep that in mind. I'm sure she will keep herself under control."

He was aware of Liliana's connections to House Virak, so he was hoping since it was Elise telling her to do this that she would behave herself. Alistair was also telling himself that there wasn't much Liliana could use to manipulate him, but that was a lie. He had just spent an entire walk to the Academy crying in the rain. If that did not scream baggage then he did not know what did.

"I'll get out of your hair. I should be able to sneak back to my room with no problem...Goodnight, Ral."
 
I'm sure she will keep herself under control.

This statement alone was enough for Ralene's eyes to roll so hard they almost tumbled out of their sockets. Jaw clenched to hold back any retort on the matter, she turned her attention back to Alistair and gave him a short but attentive look-over. Now that the confessions had ended and the plan was more or less laid out, it allowed her mind a brief lapse of its usual logical grind. The gears paused long enough for a dose of empathy to slip through.

She'd not had a history with her father like Alistair did. As a matter of fact, her history with her father was quite the opposite. Up until very, very recently ... Walter Banick might as well have been a ghost to her. Aside from being incapable of escaping her surname and the weight it carried, Ralene had enjoyed a relatively uninterrupted upbringing within the Academy. She suffered, endured, learned, and evolved just as expected, but she hadn't a blood relative to add to her suffering.

For Alistair, what should have been an outlet of normalcy had turned into just another torturous path and Ralene felt angry about this. Not at him, but for him.

"You're not in my hair," she replied after a some silence and turned her gaze up to look him in the eye, "why don't you just stay here for the night, Al."
 
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Alistair had opened the door and looked back into the room. The darkness of the hallways outside cover half of his body and face making it difficult sea, but the other half was visible from the light sources in Ralene's room, as Alistair looked back into the room and directly at her.

His stiff shoulders seemed to deflate into exhaustion. The redness around his eyes from his tears was still there, but his stoic demeanor was beginning to reform. He was trying to find any sense of normalcy rather than feel weak and vulnerable. Underneath his eyes were dark bags showcasing his general tiredness.

A soft smile pulled at his lips, but that was the most he could offer. The rest of his face did not change. His eyes locked with Ralene's as he tried to understand her.

Was this pity for him? Most likely...was he too good for that? Probably not. Was he so tired that the idea of walking all the way back to his room almost make up his mind by itself? Yes

"Thanks"

Alistair closed so the door back into the hallway and move back into the room.

Ralene
 
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Wasn't much to glean from Ral's gaze. She'd perfected her Poker Face in her youth as a defense mechanism and it had served her very well as she grew into the later stages of her tutelage here in the Academy. To her credit, she presently lacked the usual detached coldness found in her expression - mostly due in part to the hour and the weight of the conversation that had just ended.

"Lock the door," she replied with a gesture and moved over to her dresser to pull out a plain black shirt and loose pants. Ral tossed them both to Al as he finished addressing the various bolts and locks on her door, "Here, get out of your wet clothes." Despite the small difference in height, Ralene had a greater mass than Alistair. They would fit, might even be a bit big.

With a sigh she sank back down onto her bed, leaving the left side for Al, and made herself comfortable on her back, "Why did you pick me, Al."
 
Alistair locked the door at her request and then turned just in time to catch the clothes that she had thrown, with his face. He pulled them from his vision and then looked down at his own soaked clothes.

He shrugged as he turned his back to her, a small blush on his face. Honestly, with everything that was going on tonight, his dignity was the last thing he was going to worry about.

Taking his clothes off proved to be a little difficult as the wet fabric clung to his body. When he finally wrestled the clothes off, he threw them down with a wet plop into the corner.

He stood there in nothing but his underwear for a moment. Long enough for Ral to get a good look at him. Alistair was one of those sneaky athletic types. Although, there were many in the Academy. Although his body was lean and not the most noticeable with his clothes on, it was impossible to not pick up some musculature from several years at the Academy.

Of course, that wasn't the most noticeable thing. His body was decorated with runes across his skin much like Ral's probably was, but it was the runes on his back that he always attempted to hide from others. The scars along his back from years of abuse had made it difficult to even read the runes unless one knew what they were looking for.

These scars weren't from the Proctors. They were careful enough not to leave any marks when they performed their torture, so as not to potentially interfere with the runes. No, these were from the hand of someone that didn't understand magic. These were from Alistair's father.

Al said nothing as he slipped the shirt and pants on and then slipped into bed, not wanting to give a chance to look at his scars to long.

He was surprised at her question and then took a moment to gather himself before answering.

"I trust you. We might not always see eye to eye, but I've probably spent more time around you than anyone else in this dumb school...People raised somewhere else would probably call you a friend, but I know we don't like those words around here, so...you are the most reliable ally I've got to not kill me...at least not yet." A small smirk pulled to his lips at the last four words.

Ralene
 
She got a good look at the scars despite the low light of the laturn. In truth, she didn't think too much of them. Every student in the Academy that made it this far had scars unless they were blessed with powers of healing in some form, like Edric or Chasmine. Ral had a littany of her own to speak of, but none of them had been rendered by a parent or blood relation. Most had come from the Proctors, many more from her fellow Initiates, and more were added on a monthly basis from her missions. Scars told the volumes that often remained unspoken, but now she had the added onus of Alistair's confessions to tell even more of that story.

Ral didn't avert her gaze or look away when he turned back toward her. The lack of shame in staring at his figure was as blatant as her own spoken truths. She released her stare from him as he joined her in the bed and let her eyes drift upward to the ceiling where she often spent time envisioning alchemical runic equations, backlit by her imagination and projected onto the blank ceiling through her eyes.

No equations tonight, though. Instead she simply listened to Al's breathing while he collected his own thoughts, and then the lilt of his low voice that formed his reply.

"A year ago, before the revolution, I wouldn't even have answered your knock and I would have killed you for calling me friend." Of course a year ago he likely wouldn't even have bothered to knock. There weren't even alies among enemies back then. Everyone was out for blood and everyone would do anything it took to survive, including killing another student if the opportunity presented itself. She didn't miss those days despite how easy survival had come by her. Ral was responsible for the deaths of many students in their year and she was exceptionally unrepenetant.

But living every single day knowing it could be your last was exhausting and the isolation was enough to drive even her cool mind to mania. The stress would have taken its toll eventually. Quite honestly, the Revolution couldn't have happened at a better time.

"But none of that matters anymore. After graduation we're all on our own no matter what we choose to do with our lives. We're the last of the originals and we all share our traumas from growing up here. If I'm going to have any friends at all..." she sighed and turned to look over at Al, "it's going to be the people that shared the nightmare with me."

"You can call me friend if you want. I don't mind, but I'm not sure I deserve it."
 
The bed was nice...for an Academy bed. Alistair found himself staring up at the ceiling along with Ral. There was not much to focus on besides the breathing of Ral's body next to him.

Ralene's first comment made Alistair chuckle a little bit. It wasn't one of those laughs with any actual humor in it. It was just one of those laughs that you have to do rather than acknowledge how absolutely messed up their lives had been a year ago.

He could not blame Ralene because anyone of them would have done the same thing. He remembered he once had to slit a kid's throat who thought they could sneak up on him one night while he was completing one of his projects...It was just their life.

They were silent for a moment longer before Ralene continued to speak.

"I don't think we really have to be alone. If anything, the fact that we are the last means that we need to look out for each other. I will look out for my...friends." He said that bit looking over at her.

"because if anyone deserves to be called my friend then it is you." He was not willing to psychoanalyze whether that said more about Alistair's life

"I guess that includes the rest of the assholes, too."

Ralene
 
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There were certain things she could agree with. Something she'd come to terms with a few months ago - that those she had once viewed as her greatest enemies would now likely become her greatest of allies beyond graduation. Ralene was destined for the Anirian Guard's Special Forces Unit, hand picked by the General when she was only just a child. She'd known for some time now that she'd be alone in her career and Ral wasn't entirely sure that really bothered her at all.

Before, she'd been perfectly fine with moving on from those she'd grown to view only as targets to be eliminated in her life. Now? Having the option to keep in touch wasn't so unwelcome.

"Hm," she smirked and turned her head to look back up at the ceiling, "good to know I'm still an asshole."

Couldn't completely lose her edge, after all.

"Get some sleep, I'm kicking you out of here at dawn."
 
Alistair's future was far less certain than it was a few hours ago. When he woke up this morning, he was going to gain a high rank in the Anirian Guard until he took full control over the family. With his father's death fast approaching, that would mean that Alistair would find himself as the Head of his Household right out of graduation.

He would still look to work for the city, but he would need to find something where he could also be given the necessary time to keep his family afloat.

All of those thoughts quickly exited his mind as Ralene spoke up. He promptly went to correct himself and explain that he meant the others that they were around in the Academy, but he stopped himself before relaxing back into the bed.

"Yeah, we all have to be a little bit of an asshole to survive here...I'll be up before you can this time."

He closed his eyes and tried to sleep. His mind was still racing with everything that had gone on today, but he did feel a bit more relaxed as he listened to the breathing next to hi,

Ralene
 
There were two things anyone who had ever shared a bed with Ralene Banick knew:

1. She was an unapologetic blanket hog.

No point in trying to steal it back from her either. Ralene was absurdly strong without even having to try and once she had possession of the blanket, all hope was lost. And waking a sleeping Ralene without there being a very good reason was a very poor decision for anyone. Those that learned this point and continued to share a bed with her knew to have a spare blanket handy for the inevitable midnight chill.

2. She was an unapologetic snuggler.

Usually this helped with #1. Shared body warmth sometimes made up for a lack of blanket. The fact remained that it was an unconscious effort that happened while she slept. If there was the presence of another in her bed, chances were she was going to gravitate toward it regardless of who or what it was. Probably had something to do with the lack of love and warmth and security in her childhood, but she never gave it much thought.

So without fail, about an hour after dozing off, Ralene had commandeered the blanket, and shortly after rolled over. The distance between them disappeared as her arm snaked around his middle and she buried her face against the side of his shoulder. The good news? If he'd been cold from lack of blanket, he'd soon be warm again. The bad news? Good luck dislodging himself from that.
 
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So, Alistair was able to get a good and restful night's sleep...Absolutely not.

He would have struggled to doze off by himself, but for the first half of the night, he was freezing. The Academy had some magic to help with the temperature, but it remained relatively drafty. The Proctors claimed it built character.

He restlessly moved about trying to get warm. Eventually, he didn't have to solve that problem as that was solved for him. He woke up at some point in the night to realize that he was no longer cold and that he felt a weight on his chest. Alistair opened his eyes to see Ralene's head laying against his chest and her body snuggled into his own.

He stiffened at that and remained in this plank-like form for the rest of the night. While he managed to get a little bit of sleep, the slightest movement from Ral woke him up. Needless to say, when Ral did finally wake up the next morning, he was wide awake. Of course, he had his eyes shut trying to mimic sleep in order to avoid any awkward moments.

Ralene
 
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Ralene had no trouble sleeping at all despite the discomfort of her bedmate. When she woke it was to the staccatto of Alistair's heartbeat in his chest and it caused the waking Initiate to smirk to herself. Normally it was her pleasure to tease such a reaction out of others in such a setting, but if anything it only highlighted just how much help he was really going to need.

"Al," she murmured, coiling her arm more snugly around him and slowly drawing her hand up his side, "how are you ever going to kill your own father," Ral shifted her weight on the bed to partially push herself up and over him, looming just before his face, "if you can't even handle some friendly snuggling?"

The hand drifted from his side and over his chest where she hooked a pointer finger under his chin and turned him gently but firmly to look up at her, "Wakey wakey."
 
Ok, so Alistair might not be the best actor. He could not stop himself from slightly squirming when he felt Ralene's moves. The questions did help to dull the mood slightly, but not that much.

His eyes shot open as he felt his chin turn, to look directly into her eyes. He could not stop a small grin coming to his face at the first response to come to his mind.

"Well, my father isn't pretty and I don't think he knows what the word snuggle means."

That idea brought a momentary bright spot before the far more serious question filled his mind. His smile dropped as looked into Ralene's eyes.

"I will kill him...because I have to, for me and my family." That sounded cheesy, even to Alistair, but it wasn't wrong. It also wasn't entirely the entire reason.

"I-I can kill him...I know I can."

Ralene
 
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Being equated to pretty might have cause most other girls to smile or blush. Bat their eyes. Giggle. Ralene, however, darkened into stony bemusement, "Flattery will get you nowhere."

Words. Words were only valuable if they held real, true intent. Backed up by action. As a practitioner of runic magic and alchemy, Alistair knew this just as Ralene did. But she wasn't convinced by his stammering or by the pounding of his heart within his chest.

"I don't think I believe you yet," Ral's brow furrowed and jaw set as she stared down at him, "say it again, and this time I want you to really mean it."
 
Ok, so maybe Alistair's brain wasn't working at its best at the moment. He had just recently woken up from a rough night and just as rough a day. Combine that with the strange position he was in and he misunderstood what Ralene was asking him.

"Um, you are very pretty?"

Oh, that was not what she was asking. In hindsight, that should have been obvious. He got serious quickly as he nodded his head.

She was right and he would need to commit himself before he even saw his father. Otherwise, he might just look at the man and crack. He could not be having that. He would just end up in prison, or worse.

There was a brief moment as Alistair seemed to be involved in some internal dialogue before finally holding Ralene's gaze.

"I can kill him. I will kill him."

Ralene
 
"Um, you are very pretty?"

Ralene narrowed her eyes at him. It was a bit early to want to bash someone's face in, but she could make exceptions...

And then there it was: the meek arrival of self assurance. A bit like watching a cub lion find its first squeeking roar. Would have been cute if the whole ... implication in the assistance of murdering a Noble House Head wasn't a thing.

She frowned, swiping her finger away from his chin as she sat up fully, "We need to work on that, but not in here." Ral rolled from her bed and onto her feet, reaching her hands up toward the ceiling in a full-body stretch that resulted in the cracking and popping of far too many joints. With a roll of her head and broad shoulders she moved to step around the foot of her bed and made way to the door.

Click.

Clek.

Shhnk.

The locks slid out of place and the door creaked open. Ral poked her head out to take a gander up and down the hallway before leaning back in and quietly closing the door, "Hall's clear. You shouldn't have any problem getting back to your room."
 
Do you ever get that feeling that someone is considering kill you?

That feeling popped up a lot at the Academy. So much so that most initiates became accustomed to the feeling. That is why when Alistair actually noticed it coming from Ralene, he could only meekly mouth the word 'sorry' as she got out of bed.

For a moment, he thought she might be going for a sword, but it was just the door.

Alistair quickly scrambled to get out of bad as he went about picking up his damp clothes from the night before.

"Right, thanks again Ral, for the help and everything."

Wanting to be done with all the awkwardness that he was pretty sure he was making for himself, Alistair took one look out the hallway before turning to leave.

"I'll come by and get you when it is time."

With nothing else left to be said, Alistair dashed down the hallway hoping to get to his room before anyone else saw.

Ralene
 
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