[PRP] Never Again (Plague x Curse)

[Wasteland Wyvern]

The forest smells were all around him. Moss, damp, and the sharp but subtly sweet smell of the pine trees invading his senses. One wouldn't normally find these smells calming but they were for Curse. He felt himself more firmly rooted to this existence when he relaxed among the trees and bushes after a job. He was still a bit sore about losing one of his more prominent targets to a drunken sot of a mare whose name he would forever spit upon. 'So unrefined...' He found himself thinking bitterly.

He was the type for guile and guise, worming his way into their lives carefully before he slipped his claws across their sleeping throats. He lived for the thrill of it. Being discovered and forced into a fight was his worst nightmare. So to find that mare standing above the lifeless carcass of his latest target, blood soaking into the dirt and splattered across her was a wound to his pride. He'd slunk away that night, tail wrapped around his back leg pensively. He'd gone straight to their grandmother Chosovi and had asked for advice and further training. What he'd gotten was an a** kicking for failing so badly. However she had graciously given him a day to lick his wounds before putting him through the training he'd requested. She'd given him no quarter and had been as brutal as he knew her to be and while an outsider might look upon it as cruelty he was thankful to have her in his life. Not like he could look to his father for anything. The drunken sot was more often than not off on another bender or training his brother Plague. The two shared a job style after all, that of a mercenary, so it was only natural that the two had bonded closer. He wasn't bitter about it, more confused at how his brother could take the word of a drunk so well and look up to him.

He spat to the side recalling how his dearest brother had guffawed heartily upon hearing through the family grapevine how badly he'd ******** up his last job. Letting someone steal it from him... How shameful... He'd never forget it and would be better for it.

Deep in his thoughts he started hearing something off in the distance. A voice calling out. His ears perked and trained in on them recognizing almost instantly the voice of Plague. His ears pinned back in annoyance at being interrupted from his meditations but he knew that he'd get no peace till Plague found him. Planting his clawed feet in the dirt and using his back hooves as anchors he raised himself up from behind the bushes he was behind at the time. He carefully schooled his features into his usual expressionless mask before moving around and through the trees to see his brother, looking mildly panicked. That was certainly a new one... "Whatever is all this caterwauling about brother..?" He asked with one eyebrow raised.

Word Count: 500

 

[Wasteland Wyvern]

Whatever Curse had expected from this conversation, if one could call it such, it was not his brother melting down into hysterics and wondering if he was pregnant. This was a completely new experience for the assassin and while he tried hard to keep his facade in place he found it cracking and falling away in pieces as the story continued, and the entire thing shattered when his brother got a very grumpy look on his face and said not to laugh at him. It was all just too much for Curse and he cracked up. His laughter echoing through the trees and sending the birds awing in terror. His tail curled around his back leg tightly as he just laughed and laughed and laughed. Tears were streaming down his face as he wheezed from barely being able to breathe through it. He'd never seen his usually cool and calm brother so distraught and boy was he milking it.

Now something that Curse had never actually told his brother was that he often slept with stallions, if they were his current target, as sleeping with them got him the closest he could to slit their throats afterward. One could say he was fairly knowledgeable in this aspect so finally after a solid ten minutes he finally sobered up enough to respond. His brother was extremely grumpy about how long he laughed, he could tell, but it was all too worth it to the assassin. Revenge was a dish best served cold after all.

When he was relatively able to speak again he looked at his brother and cuffed him, gently, across the face with his right wing to break him from his hysterics, "Firstly no you aren't pregnant, and before you question it I've slept with many a stallion during my jobs and you don't see any brats do you?" He raised an eyebrow, another mischievous smile running across his face. He spoke quickly so his brother couldn't cut him off, "And secondly, was he at least a good ********> He waited patiently for his brother's response, eyebrow still raised.

Word Count: 350

 

[Wasteland Wyvern]

It didn't take long for Curse to realize his brother was actually freaked out about this whole ordeal. He did laugh at Plague's misfortune quite a bit throughout this but hey fair was fair. His brother was distressed by what had occurred and he did actually feel bad about it all. Sure they both killed for a living, sure he had to wear a mask and not show his real self but they were who life made them. Railing against it didn't help anyone.

"Look I get it okay. You're freaking the hell out about this whole thing but really it's not as bad as you're making it out to be." He stopped for a second thinking how to proceed. "First point, you slept with a dude, or at least woke up next to one. Not a real issue. s**t happens when you imbibe, especially the stuff dad drinks. I dunno what kind of life he had before meeting mom but I'd guess at a hard one if he's as bad off as he is." He frowned. Thinking on their father put a sour taste in his mouth. He had no idea why their mother and his brother cared for him so much, but that was his own hangup and not something he'd bring into this conversation.

Shaking his head he continued, "Second point. If somehow you had kids from this you know mom and grandma would help you out. They ain't about to throw you out in the cold just cause the other parent is a dude. Sure they might not approve but that's life. We're not perfect brother." He sighed. Grandma Cho was definitely going to kick Plague's a** for this but she'd still love the kids if there were some, which Curse still wasn't sure how that one would work... but if the stories about Hania and his mate were true then it's something that they had to prepare for.

"Third point, you'd be perfectly fine as a father. You gotta remember you ain't doing this alone brother. Maybe I'm an a**, dad's a drunk, and mom's... Well mom, but you have us." He stopped for a second thinking of how his brother said he didn't want any kids to meet him though was a bit much, "Hey... Just cause I laughed at you for banging a dude doesn't mean I don't want to meet the little anklebiters. Remember you and mom laughed pretty damn hard at me for losing my target to that mare." That errant eyebrow was up again wondering where his brother would take the conversation next.

Word Count: 435