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In Time RP (Polo!)

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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Mon Jul 29, 2013 1:39 pm

Griffin's sharp eyes caught the momentary twitch of Toby's lips, and his own tightened when he recognized the man's amusement. He knew how pathetic he must have sounded to the Dayton barkeeper, with his unrealistic ideals; his optimisms and hopes. Maybe he was kidding himself, but if he let go of that faith, what the hell would he have left?
The thought made his fists tighten at his side, and he looked away, trying to hide his anger for fear he'd have to explain it.
Beside him, Toby sighed, and Griffin heard his own teeth grind together as his jaw clenched. Why did he have to be like that? So desolate and hopeless?
“In an ideal world, of course they would." Toby answered at last, humouring him, "But when you have everything, no matter how shit life is, you won't want to give it up to make some poor stranger happier.”
Griffin's nails bit into his palm. Of course he knew that; he'd experienced it firsthand, after all. But was it really such a crime to believe that it was not too late to make a change?

Toby went on, speaking bitterly of the cruel relationship between rich and poor, and Griffin felt his frustration inexplicably growing. He had grown up in Dayton, too. Just how long would it take for Toby to realize that he was not the only one who had suffered? How much longer would he keep playing the victim?
Just because I haven't given up hope just yet, just 'cause I don't sit in the dark and drink alone, does that make my pain any less real than yours?
He felt his shoulders hunch forward as he wrapped his arms around himself, fingers digging into his sides.
You don't know a thing about me. We've been together weeks now, and you've never even asked. What makes you such an expert on what is and isn't fair?
He drew in a deep breath through his nose, steeling himself as Toby's speech began drawing to a close. Somehow, he knew what was coming. Deep down, he'd always known.
“The only way Dayton can ever get the Time it deserves is if someone takes all of this,” Toby gestured to the glittering New Greenwich skyline, “and gives it back to those it stole from. By force.”
Griff uttered a laughing breath, although his handsome face showed no humour.
"And you fancy yourself that 'someone', right?" He asked, not even expecting an answer. He knew it already.
"Toby, when are you going to pull your head out of your ass and realize that life exists outside of this little pity party you've been hosting for the past fourteen years?" He tasted the ill-placed contempt in his own voice, and instantly felt a stab of regret. He didn't even know where his anger had come from, but when he had dived right in the deep end, it was too late to back out and test the water again. He had to go for broke.
"It's easy to sit there behind your bar, sharing troubles with poor strangers, and get up in arms about how bad Dayton has it, and how it's a crime for New Greenwich to be so rich when others have to suffer for it. Hell, you know I agree, but-" He shook his head, "Taking the Time from people here, and giving it to people there? You're not Robin Hood, Toby. These people deserve to live just as much as any drunk Dayton screw up. Sure, some of them are fat old frauds, but the majority are just innocent people lucky enough to have a few extra decades on their wrists. How is it fair that you should be allowed to take away from them, just because some other people, somewhere in the world, have a little less?" Griffin paused, sighing heavily. It had got late, and his breath issued a cloud of steam into the cold night air. His fringe shielded his eyes as he stared unseeing out to some distant floodlights, waving back and forth across a stadium miles away.
"You know, you've never asked me why I decided to become a Timekeeper." His hand moved unconsciously to his chest, fingers curling over the trace of an old, half-forgotten scar, "Maybe it doesn't matter, but... When I was young, I wanted to make a difference. I guess in a way, you could say I was just like you." He smiled sadly, "But then I met somebody who turned my life around. Somebody I looked up to. He taught me to see things differently, to understand that no one life is worth more than any other." Griffin's jaw tightened, "Everybody's selfish, Toby. Whether it's the rich bastard unconsciously Timing Out some poor beggar for his bottle of 50-year-old scotch, or some ghetto rat draining the seconds of his best friend just to stay alive another day. It doesn't matter who we are; everyone, everywhere, hates being stolen from. If you take these people's Time, you'll start an all out war. If that's your plan, then," At last he looked up, meeting the man's eyes with a deadly serious gaze, "I'll be the first person standing in your way."
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Post  Dreambug Mon Jul 29, 2013 2:59 pm

As soon as Griffin released that humourless laugh, Toby's anger reached boiling point. How dare Griffin laugh at his main goal? How could he sit there and mock him when all he wanted to do was save lives?
And you fancy yourself that 'someone', right?
He clenched his fists. Griffin's tone was pissing him off as much as the words. He didn't answer.
Toby, when are you going to pull your head out of your ass and realize that life exists outside of this little pity party you've been hosting for the past fourteen years?
His eyes widened. 'Pity party'? Just because he accepted his guilt, just because he had a lot to regret in his life, how the Hell was it a 'pity party'?
Well, fine, maybe the next time he needed to get something off his chest he'd tell Angel instead of his own f*cking boyfriend. Next time the nightmares were keeping him awake at night maybe he'd just go out for a walk and not come back until morning. Maybe he'd drink his troubles away. Then would that be better for Griffin? Would he prefer that to just having a calm conversation?
When the man continued ranting, mocking Toby constantly, practically claiming his beliefs were false, and getting more and more stressed as he went Toby damn near lost it. Why was Griff so pissed off all of a sudden? Couldn't he at least try to understand Toby's reasons? Hell, Griff knew his reasons. Couldn't he put in the effort to put himself in Toby's shoes?
You're not Robin Hood, Toby. These people deserve to live just as much as any drunk Dayton screw up. Sure, some of them are fat old frauds, but the majority are just innocent people lucky enough to have a few extra decades on their wrists. How is it fair that you should be allowed to take away from them, just because some other people, somewhere in the world, have a little less?
“Because it's been like this for generations!” Toby snapped. Of course it was damned fair! Who else was going to do it? There were charities, but in the end, the Time never got to Dayton. Children became orphans at any age. Toddlers couldn't live on their own without a family, no matter how much Time they had. They died from disease, malnutrition, getting caught up in street fights et cetera. How was that fair?
You know, you've never asked me why I decided to become a Timekeeper.
Just like that, Toby's fury drew to a halt. That was a fair point ((Like a unicorn horn. ^_^)). He'd never asked Griff anything about his past. Well... He'd presumed that maybe the memories were too hard to face. But come to think of it, he knew Griff had grown up in Dayton. Maybe the stories weren't the same as he'd claimed back when he was known as 'Myles', but he had to have some sort of story. Especially to get to a Timekeeper of his status.
He listened intently to the brief story Griff gave regarding his past, although it didn't really answer any questions. However, it did open a door.
Something had happened to Griff a long time ago. Something terrible.
He remembered seeing all of Griff's scars on his chest, that one time he'd seen him without a shirt on. There were a few scars there that were unexplained, but the most obvious was the huge one in the middle of his chest, too well-sculpted to be a burn scar, but messier and more violently scarred than a normal bullet scar he'd seen. It must have been created using a powerful weapon. Machine gun, even.
But why would anyone shoot him with a machine gun?
Everybody's selfish, Toby. Whether it's the rich bastard unconsciously Timing Out some poor beggar for his bottle of 50-year-old scotch, or some ghetto rat draining the seconds of his best friend just to stay alive another day. It doesn't matter who we are; everyone, everywhere, hates being stolen from. If you take these people's Time, you'll start an all out war. If that's your plan, then,” Eventually they met eyes, and Toby was aware of how deathly serious Griff looked. A silent promise lurked behind those green eyes, and it caused Toby to shudder involuntarily. “I'll be the first person standing in your way.
A long pause, then Toby nodded in silent acceptance. He didn't expect Griff to want the same thing he did, or to agree with him straight away. Maybe it would take him a bit of persuading, or maybe he'd have to work alone. But he would give his goal all he had. For his family's sake.
Besides, he didn't plan on starting a war. With enough man-power, it would be a revolution. But he'd have to start his work quietly, undercover. Become a vigilante, maybe. Or a terrorist. Depending on how the people saw him.
Either way, he didn't plan on being a hero. He just wanted to so what no one else had the chance to do before.
But there was no point arguing now. Besides, if they were being recorded, they were already screwed.
Sighing, Toby nibbled quietly at a twiglet that had fallen out of his hair, frowning down at his feet.
Then, “You have a scar on your chest. I've never seen anything like it before. Looks like it was the work of something with a lot of power, right?” He picked another twiglet from the grass and popped it in his mouth. “Either way it's a nasty one. A blow like that should have killed you.” He looked back up at Griffin, forcing his anger away for later, when he had something that wasn't Griffin to take it out on.
Lifting his eyebrows slightly, he nudged Griff gently in the shoulder.
“What happened?”
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Mon Jul 29, 2013 3:33 pm

When Toby simply nodded in understanding, Griffin pulled away slightly, clearly taken aback. He frowned, blinking uncertainly at Toby. He had just flown off the handle for no reason. The truth was, he had expected a screaming match - perhaps even raised fists, given Toby's hot temper. This reaction - or lack thereof - had been below the bottom of his list of expectations.
"Toby?" He questioned uncertainly, "Did you-"
“You have a scar on your chest." This statement caught him so off-guard that Griffin pulled back again, laying a hand protectively over his chest.
"Yeah." He snapped defensively, "What of it?"
"I've never seen anything like it before. Looks like it was the work of something with a lot of power, right? Either way it's a nasty one. A blow like that should have killed you.”
He watched Toby worriedly, brow furrowed, and finally offered a begrudging nod. What was his point, anyway? With the situation as it was, Griffin half expected Toby to pull out some heavy artillery and shoot him to make a point.
I just shot down all your plans. Why aren't you screaming in my face right now?
His fingers closed self consciously around a handful of his shirt, and he looked away from Toby, feeling guilt welling up quickly. There had been no need to be so harsh with him. After all, Toby was his boyfriend. Griffin was supposed to support him.

At that moment, a gentle nudge drew his attention back to the present, and Griffin looked up in surprise to find Toby watching him expectantly, his eyes showing nothing but kindness.
“What happened?”
"What happened...?" Griffin repeated uncertainly, his eyes searching Toby's face. His confidence was gone now, and he looked suddenly timid and insecure, as though he was not quite sure how the conversation had gotten where is was. He had never talked about his past before. Not really. He was too scared to; as though saying it out loud could bring the pain back... He had always been too afraid to feel it. That was why he ran away.
"I don't..." He trailed off. What was he supposed to say? 'I don't know' would be a lie. And saying 'I don't want to tell you' would only beg the question, 'why?' He didn't even have an answer for that.
"That was... A long time ago." He answered hesitantly, looking away and rubbing goosebumps from his arm. He bit back the tremor in his voice, "I don't really talk about it."
There was a long moment of silence, then he looked back at Toby.
"I'm sorry for what I said." He admitted humbly, flushing from shame, "I get a bit carried away sometimes... And I know you're only trying to do what you think is right." He offered a shy smile, "For what it's worth, I support your goal... And I'll do everything I can to help you accomplish it, if you're just willing to... I don't know..." He shrugged, "Compromise, I guess?"
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Post  Dreambug Mon Jul 29, 2013 5:55 pm

Toby frowned at Griff's sudden change of mine, taking note of his lack of confidence and apparent nervous posture. Perhaps Toby's reaction wasn't as explosive as he'd expected, but there was no need to look so scared just because Toby had asked him what he'd wanted to hear. Griff had told him he'd never asked, so he'd asked. Now why did his boyfriend look so nervous?
After a few pointless shaky replies, Griffin finally settled with, “That was... A long time ago.”
This didn't answer the question, but Toby didn't push.
I don't really talk about it.
He raised an eyebrow. He didn't talk about it, or he didn't want to?
Just before Toby could ask him this, Griff quickly changed the subject, changing his expression to a kind smile.
I'm sorry for what I said.” Toby had been just about to force another mouthful of sushi down, but this stopped him. He raised an eyebrow at Griffin, only half convinced. “I get a bit carried away sometimes... And I know you're only trying to do what you think is right.
Toby stared blankly on him. This apology was far too good to be true. He didn't believe it. Not because it wasn't sincere or anything, but because only a minute ago Griff was shaking with anger, Toby found it difficult to believe it. The timing was far too off.
For what it's worth, I support your goal... And I'll do everything I can to help you accomplish it, if you're just willing to... I don't know...” Griff shrugged. “Compromise, I guess?
Eventually, Toby caught on to what was going on, and, amazed, he snickered to himself. It had nothing to do with Griffin's words, since he'd made a very reasonable suggestion. It was because he knew Griff was only being nice to avoid the subject.
“Yeah,” He mused, trying to hide his smile. “I can compromise. But hey...” He shrugged. “We'll talk about it later. For now...” He took and arm and draped it around Griff's shoulder, nuzzling his ear gently. “I'll forgive you if you kiss me again.” He cooed, tracing a tiny shadow on Griff's neck with the tip of his tongue.
He didn't want to argue politics and ethics with Griffin, when all he wanted was a romantic night after spending a week working his ass off to get where he was. It was best to leave these conversations after they'd had a chance to think abut it and discuss it, when there wasn't a risk of them being overheard.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Tue Jul 30, 2013 2:56 am

Griffin blinked at Toby, frowning slightly when he heard the man laugh under his breath. Was he really that funny, or was Toby just trying to piss him off again? He pursed his lips irritably, but then Toby looked at him, and his expression softened at the sight of the man's smile. Even when he was being annoying, Toby was still drop dead gorgeous.
“Yeah,” He agreed at last, "I can compromise. But hey... We'll talk about it later. For now...” An arm curled around his shoulders, and the gesture seemed so out of context that at first Griffin felt himself tense up, pulling automatically away from Toby's contact.
"What are you-"
“I'll forgive you if you kiss me again.”
Oh...
As comprehension dawned, Griffin felt a frown tighten his face, and he gnawed on the inside of his cheek, turning his head away. He didn't know what universe Toby was living in, but if it was the same as his, then it meant that his boyfriend's ability to read a mood was beyond terrible. How, in all of that mess, had he managed to see even a spark of romance? Griffin certainly hadn't. But then again, maybe he was just a hopeless cynic. Either way, this was neither the time nor the place to be kissing.
"Toby," Griffin began objecting, turning his head aside, and closing his eyes, "Not-"
At that moment, he felt a hot breath on his neck, followed by the heart throbbing sensation of Toby's tongue tracing over his skin.
He drew in a gasp of breath, shivering as a mindblowing thrill raced from the roots of his hair down to his toes, making him curl them in his shoes. In that one moment, the whole world ground to a halt, then started spinning rapid time in reverse.
His stomach erupted into a nervy flock of butterflies, which Griffin instantly tried to quieten by clutching at his sides. His cheeks were hot, every hair standing on end from the goosebumps creeping over his skin. He felt so lightheaded, he feared he just might faint.
"N-no." He gasped at last, untying his tongue, and pushing Toby's face aside with a gentle shove. He looked up, and as his wide eyes fell upon his boyfriend's handsome features, his pupils dilated. His thrumming heartbeat turned staccato.
Still wracked with shivers of feeling, he searched Toby's face, then threw caution to the winds, and promptly tackled him to the ground.
They struck down in a tangle of limbs, and in an instant, Griffin's lips had found Toby's. He drew in a hiss of breath through his nose, eyes scrunching closed as his fingers clawed at the dirt beside Toby's head.
The butterflies felt as if they'd got caught up in a whirlwind. It was something Griffin had never experienced before, and when he had least expected it, it had suddenly consumed him entirely.
One touch. That was all it took for me to lose my mind... Toby, just what are you?
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Post  Dreambug Tue Jul 30, 2013 3:54 am

Toby knew he'd caught Griff off-guard when he felt the man's breathing change, and soon enough he was smirking to himself. Once again Griffin was trembling under his touch, and Toby was enjoying every minute of it.
Heat radiated off Griffin's face, so much warmer than Toby thought was humanly possible, but before he could make some lame joke about it a hand got in his face, shoving it aside with a gentle push. This only seemed to make him want more, but he bit his tongue to keep from doing any more, and studied Griffin's face with a slightly amused expression.
The pathetic retort wafted over his head. Griff may have said 'no' but Toby knew fair well he really wanted it. He recognised the embarrassment with the goosebumps and the flushed cheeks, but it was addictive.
Grinning deviously he advanced forward to try it again, but was caught off-guard when a hand spun him round and pinned him to the floor. Grunting in surprise he flopped his arms at either side of his body, but before he could comprehend what was going on Griffin was kissing him viciously.
He chuckled under his breath, lifting his hands to clutch either side of Griffin's waist. Well... That had been fairly easy.
I'll definitely try that again some time.
It took a while for Toby to prise his lips from Griffin's, but eventually he managed it and grinned up at the man with a naughty little smile. From his lips came one word: “Score.”
Snickering deviously to himself, Toby angled his face into Griffin's neck, urging him on with another slow, daring lick with the tip of his tongue.
He then drew his head back to stare into Griffin's eyes, darkened by the shadows of the hilltop they sat on, yet twinkling with the colourful lights of New Greenwich below. They were mesmerising, not just because of their beauty, but because of how amusingly feral they looked with the pupils dilated the way they were.
He chuckled at this thought, flashing a toothy grin up at the man.
What are you gunna do next then, Gryfindor? He dared silently.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Tue Jul 30, 2013 4:13 am

It was Toby who pulled away first, and with his lungs heaving for air, Griffin allowed it, propping himself up on his arms. The spiky grass pressed into his palms, forming patterns on his skin, but he barely noticed it. He had eyes only for Toby. And when he heard the word 'Score' uttered from the man's lips, his eyes narrowed in annoyance. That was not the reaction he had been going for.
This isn't a game, Toby.
Uttering a noncommittal grunt in response, Griffin began sitting up, but before he could escape, Toby's tongue touched his neck again, and another thrill of adrenaline went coursing through him, blinding him momentarily to the rest of the world. The effect of it was overpowering His elbows buckled, and he only just managed to catch himself before his shaking arms spilled him back onto Toby.
"Nah-uh." He grunted, pushing Toby away and sitting up quickly as panic flared through him for a moment. He didn't like to feel out of control, and when he knew that this man had such extreme power over him, it was a deeply unsettling thought. Fussily fixing his hair, he shuffled away from Toby, blushing as he struggled to ignore the eyes still boring into him, and the cocky grin on his boyfriend's face. He loved Toby's confidence, but at the same time, he couldn't help but find it slightly unsettling. He was still nervous and afraid, and it worried him how Toby could be so completely comfortable in the relationship when he was still struggling to accept it.
He shivered - from the cold, this time - and rubbed the goosebumps from his arms, frowning down at the ground. He was aware of Toby watching him expectantly, but his courage had gone as swiftly as it had come. He felt shy and timid once more, cheeks still flushed from the memory of the kiss. Gnawing insecurely on his lip, he gazed out over the city lights below, willing his racing heart to steady back to its normal pace.
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Post  Dreambug Tue Jul 30, 2013 6:06 am

Toby's grin slowly fell away when he saw Griffin's annoyance – no longer a funny look – and he wondered for a moment what he'd done that was so wrong. But there was obviously something there, and for some reason the sight of Griffin looking so small and nervous brought guilt to his shoulders.
Eyebrows pulling together, Toby sat up and leant on his palm in Griff's direction, his head cocking to one side as he peered over the man's shoulder. Griffin was rubbing his arms self-consciously and his face was still as flushed as it was before, but this time it didn't look as pleasing as it had earlier. Frowning, he reached over and placed his hand over Griffin's, resting his chin lazily on Griffin shoulder.
“Hey.” He grunted, sobering his expression now he knew it was no longer funny. “Tell me what's going on.”
Drawing back his hand he sat up and shuffled around, so Griff no longer had his back to him. He didn't like it when Griffin ran away from him, especially if he'd done something wrong.
Just then, he felt something itch at his stomach from under his jumper and, pulling a face, he glanced down his collar to see what it was.
Three stray twiglets had somehow found their way under his clothes.
Smirking to himself, he yanked out his collar and reached down to get the twiglets, then offered them shamelessly to Griffin, his eyebrows raised innocently.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Tue Jul 30, 2013 6:42 am

From somewhere beside him, Griffin heard Toby shift, and then a warm hand closed gently around his. Toby's chin came to rest on his shoulder, and Griffin tilted his head obediently to catch a glimpse of his friend out of the corner of his eye. He managed a smile, and closed his hand around Toby's.
“Hey.” The other man urged, moving around to face him, “Tell me what's going on.”
Griffin kept watching the horizon, letting his head bow again. "It's n-"
He broke off suddenly when he realized that Toby was no longer listening, and - somewhat offended - turned to the man with a frown, only to find him digging for something down his shirt. Griffin raised his eyebrows, blinking in wide-eyed surprise, until Toby resurfaced bearing a handful of Twiglets. When he offered them to Griffin, that innocent expression shining on his face, Griff couldn't keep the smile from his lips.
"Ew!" He exclaimed, swatting Toby's hand away with a laugh, "I'm so not eating those."
His expression softened, and as his eyes crinkled at the corners, Griffin felt himself relax. He had a question to answer. Taking a deep breath, he pushed his hair back from his face, then reached out for Toby's hand - now empty of Twiglets - and took it in his own.
"I'm sorry." He didn't need to say what for; Toby knew as well as he did about his little moments of blind panic, and the avoidance that followed.
His thumb caressed the back of his boyfriend's hand, feeling the gentle rasping of hair on skin, "You know how I feel about you, but," He paused, "It's still early for me. I'm just getting used to being in a relationship, and honestly, there are times when it scares me a little." He shrugged, a sheepish smile forming on his lips. He knew well how dumb it sounded, but it was the truth. He didn't know what it was that scared him - whether it was the drunken loss of self control, the fear of being hurt, or maybe even the simple possibility that he might be happy for once - it didn't matter, really. What mattered was that he could get over it in his own time, at his own pace.
"You just need to be patient." He finished, cupping a hand gently around Toby's cheek, "I know it's hard for you, but just try for me, okay?"
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Post  Dreambug Tue Jul 30, 2013 10:11 am

Toby grinned when Griff swatted his hand away, causing two of the twiglets to fly from his palm onto the grass beside him. He shrugged, unfazed by this, and popped the last one in his mouth.
“Suit yourself.” He said with a mouthful of food, then shrugged and stole another one from the ground. He'd eaten dirtier food than that, anyway.
Just then Griff took his hand, and Toby glanced down at it with vague interest. Griff may ave been shy when it came to kissing him, but he'd happily be forward about other loving gestures, wouldn't he? Still, it was nothing to complain about. Toby honestly liked it.
You know how I feel about you, but, it's still early for me. I'm just getting used to being in a relationship, and honestly, there are times when it scares me a little."
Toby looked down sheepishly, colour rushing to his cheeks. To he'd been too forward. Perhaps he'd have to control that... But it was hard to tell when Griff liked it and when he didn't.
You just need to be patient." Griff assured him, placing a hand gently on his cheek. Toby pulled a face. Saying something like that... He felt slightly scolded. "I know it's hard for you, but just try for me, okay?
“Wow...” He rolled his eyes, smiling at himself. “I must seem like a real horny animal to you, then.” He shook his head in amusement, then placed his hand on top of Griffin's, winking at him with a sparkling gaze. “Okay. I'll hold back. But the next time something's bothering you, tell me upfront, 'kay?” He pursed his lips, then gently rested his brow against Griffin's.
Poor guy. Of course he wasn't the only one who'd never been in a proper relationship before. But Toby had had some experience. He'd slept with a few women before, but it had never been a relationship as such, but more of a drunken one night stand, and none of the women were whom he'd known beforehand.
He turned away to rummage curiously through the remaining stash of food. Delicately fried rice, a range of cheese, crackers and two concealed bottles of piping hot green tea.
“Geez...” Toby pulled a face. “What sort of picnic is this? It looks like some weird multi-cultural Afternoon Tea.” He pulled out one bottle and stared at it. His 'pinky' stuck out in a ninety-degree angle towards the city on it's own, but Toby didn't even notice. He opened it up and sniffed the lid, then scrunched his eyes closed with distaste.
“It smells of boiled cabbage.” He whined, checking the label. 'Camomile and mint'. Whatever the hell 'camomile' was.
“You can have it.” He said, shoving the bottle in Griffin's direction.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Tue Jul 30, 2013 1:42 pm

“Wow... I must seem like a real horny animal to you, then.”
"No, no!" Griffin replied hastily, waving off Toby's words with his hands, "I-I didn't mean it like..."
He trailed off when Toby's hand laid over his, and the man offered him a kind wink.
“Okay. I'll hold back. But the next time something's bothering you, tell me upfront, 'kay?”
For the umpteenth time that night, Griffin felt the colour rising in his cheeks, and he looked shyly away. "I'll try..." He mumbled sheepishly, kicking at a loose clump of grass. He didn't know how Toby expected him to tell him up front, when he only freaked out the moment he got in too deep. It was like dipping a toe in a lake - there was no way he could tell how deep it was until he actually tried diving in, and that was when he always got stopped by the simple fact that he might crack his head open on impact. Amused by the comparison, he shook his head, only to be stopped by the pressure of Toby's forehead against his. He paused, turning his eyes upwards, and managed a small smile. At least his boyfriend was willing to accept him, quirks and all. That was all he could ask for, really. Sighing softly, he closed his eyes, enjoying the closeness they shared right until the moment that Toby pulled away. He shivered, rubbing the chill from his forehead, then forced aside his worries, and shifted closer to Toby again, peering curiously over his shoulder as he began unpacking the rest of their dinner.
“Geez...” The other man muttered, pulling a face, “What sort of picnic is this? It looks like some weird multi-cultural Afternoon Tea.”
He watched Toby pull out a bottle of tea, holding it like some English gentleman, and he couldn't help but chuckle.
"At least it doesn't have enough oil to drown a man." He pointed out fairly, reaching out for the bottle. He wasn't a fan of tea, but he didn't mind it. He supposed he'd have to get used to it now that he lived in New Greenwich, anyway. Unlike in the lower Timezones, people in NG actually had time to sleep. He supposed that was what rendered the idea of downing eight mugs of coffee a day somewhat moot.
“It smells of boiled cabbage.” Toby complained beside him, earning another chuckle, "You can have it.”
"Sure," Griffin laughed, accepting the bottle, "Pawn your stinky cabbage off on me. At least it's not chicken bone soup, okay."
He shuddered at the thought. He hadn't spent long living on the streets, but the time he had spent there had been a rough one. Picking chicken bones out of the trash to soak in boiling water was not exactly his fondest 'dinner' memory.
He pulled a face, then took a sip of the tea, and shuddered again. Honestly, this fancy stuff wasn't much of an improvement on chicken bone soup.
"Actually," He tossed the bottle over his shoulder, "This is gross." Griffin folded his arms and sat there smugly for a moment, then he twitched uncomfortably, and scrambled around to pick up the bottle, grumbling as he dusted it off.
"I can't litter." He explained incredulously, heaving a weary sigh, "I'm a bloody Timekeeper."
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Post  Dreambug Tue Jul 30, 2013 3:09 pm

Sure,” Griff told him sarcastically, taking the bottle. “Pawn your stinky cabbage off on me. At least it's not chicken bone soup, okay.
Toby blinked at this. In honesty, he'd never had chicken bone soup before. Ever. Usually when his family were low on Time for food, they'd survive on bread and bacon fat. One slice, usually. Two if they'd been good.
His father would sometimes put a drop of liqueur in his bacon fat, but most of the time Toby's mum would notice. The mum knows everything.
Eventually it took Griff a while to accept the green tea was, in fact, disgusting and tossed it over his shoulder, but he soon scrabbled around to find it again, dusting it off sheepishly with one hand. “I can't litter.” Was his excuse. “I'm a bloody Timekeeper.
Toby shrugged, taking the bottle from him. For a moment it looked like he was about to put it back in the box, but then he swung round and tossed it a few meters away from them.
“I'm not.” He replied snidely. That was his excuse.
He grinned deviously at his boyfriend, leaning back on his palm like a delinquent schoolboy. What was Griffin going to do, arrest him? Make him pick the bottle up? Well, he could try, but he wouldn't get very far.
Or maybe he'd beat him up with the bottle.
Eyes widening at this thought, Toby shyly grabbed a cracker and began to nibble on it, shockingly hamster-like for such a tall, strong-looking man.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Tue Jul 30, 2013 3:27 pm

Griffin raised his eyebrows when Toby took the bottle of tea from him, and watched him curiously, wondering what he was going to do with it. Just as he was about to lose interest, he saw Toby toss it aside, out of reach. With an irritable huff, he folded his arms over his chest.
“I'm not.” Came Toby's cocky excuse, accompanied by a devious grin.
"Mmm." Griffin answered, unimpressed, "But now I'm just going to have to pick it up again, you ass."
He watched Toby, narrowing his eyes at his carefree stance. He looked so damn proud of himself, it made Griffin want to slap his stupid face clean off. He wouldn't, of course, but the feeling was there.
Well, it was until Toby started nibbling on a cracker, in any case. Then, he was just too damn cute to stay mad at.
Chucking to himself, Griffin leaned his shoulder fondly against Toby's, and took a cracker for himself, pushing the abandoned tea bottle to the back of his mind. It wasn't important. He'd have to pick it up before they left, of course, but... Well, it wasn't important. He shook his head, trying to clear his obsessive mind. He did have a terrible habit of fixating on unimportant things.
Helping himself to a slice of fancy cheese, Griffin pressed it onto the cracker and popped the whole thing into his mouth, chewing contentedly. A swallow and a muffled burp later (apparently Toby did not deserve his good manners) he seemed to decide that he was full, and finished with a wide yawn.
"It's getting late." He mused, looking up at the moon overhead, "I've still got work tomorrow, and I'm not important enough to be late yet." He offered a sheepish smile, shrugging his shoulders. Everybody knew that his work ethic was not exactly brilliant, though the quality of his work more than made up for it.
"Anyway..." He stretched, then shamelessly used Toby's shoulder to get to his feet. "I gotta take a leak. You'd better not leave me here."
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Post  Dreambug Tue Jul 30, 2013 3:55 pm

After a few minutes of nibbling on the given food they both decided they were full and packed what there was away – besides the tea bottle, Toby left that for Griffin to sweat about. But he'd save whatever was left for lunch, since he could never leave good food to waste. When you're brought up in the lowest of the low, you learn not to take advantage of whatever you have left.
Griffin brought up how late it was, and that he had work the next day, and Toby soon took the hint. Yes, it was rather late, and no longer the warm evening it had been earlier.
Then, just as the mood was beginning to sober, Griff added, “I gotta take a leak. You'd better not leave me here.
He had to laugh at this. “Oh yeah, because the thought of leaving a guy alone with his do-do out on possible display to cameras never occurred to me.”
But he stayed true to his word. Although he still didn't pick up the bottle of Tea, he remained obediently seated by the box of food, as if guarding it from the pretend wilderness.
“Go pee.” He ordered, cocking his head towards the trees as he stared out at the city with his eyes narrowed at the cold. “I'll be right here.”

When Griff came back Toby headed to the bike and strapped in the remainders of food in the box, hen mouted it, gesturing for Griff to follow.
“I'll take you back first, but I need to make a quick stop.” He smirked. “A certain Angel is waiting for me in a certain kennel out of town, and she'll hate me if I don't come for her tonight.”
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Wed Jul 31, 2013 1:57 am

Toby's retort made Griffin crinkle his nose in displeasure, and he stuck out his tongue cheekily.
“Go pee.” Toby ordered, ignoring him, “I'll be right here.”
"Fine." He chuckled, running his fingers briefly through Toby's hair as he walked off. Luckily, there was some dense vegetation around, because Griffin certainly wasn't one of those guys who could happily pee at the side of the road. He couldn't go if he thought someone was watching him. Even in the men's room, he had to lock himself up in the cubicle to have a pee. The urinals were always far too public for him.
Shuddering at the thought, he shouldered his way through the prickly bushes until he found a large tree to hide behind. Glancing suspiciously to the right and left, he then turned to face the trunk. As he was about to unzip his pants, he heard a sinister rustle nearby, and jumped in fright. Heart thumping, he edged nervously toward the moving bush, and just as he was about to chicken out and run, a little squirrel emerged from the leaves, nose twitching curiously as it watched him.
He slapped a hand to his forehead with a groan, then lifted a finger to his lips, and hushed the squirrel firmly.
"Sssh!" He scolded, folding his arms and glaring at it as it scampered away up into the tree. He wanted to believe that the animal looked contrite, but he was pretty sure that was just his imagination.
Sighing, he rolled his eyes, then turned back to the tree, and resumed his business.

By the time he emerged - faintly scratched - from the thorny bushes, Toby had already packed up and mounted the bike. His boyfriend waved him over, and Griffin approached obediently, stopping beside the bike.
“I'll take you back first, but I need to make a quick stop.” Toby told him as he prepared to mount, “A certain Angel is waiting for me in a certain kennel out of town, and she'll hate me if I don't come for her tonight.”
"You brought Angel?" He asked, expression brightening at the thought of the dog. No matter what he said, he did have a secret soft spot for that old girl. But then he thought a moment, and added with a frown, "You're not planning to bring her into my house, are you?" His lips tightened worriedly, "You know that if she hurts Rabbit Toby, I'll never forgive you."
With a soft sigh, he took hold of Toby's shoulders and swung his leg over the bike, but just as he was about to sit down, he caught sight of something vaguely reflective out of the corner of his eye. Turning his head, he saw the tea bottle still nestled snugly in the grass. His jaw tightened, and for a moment he battled the voices in his head, trying to convince himself just to leave it there. As they always did, the voices won out.
"Hang on," He grumbled, scrambling off the bike again, "Gotta pick up that damn bottle..."

Shivering from the cold, he jogged over to the bottle, then picked it up - muttering a few choice insults - and shoved it into his pocket. He was about to turn and leave, when a sudden sound from the bushes nearby caught his attention. He tensed, eyes narrowing as they traced the shadows around the trees. For a while, he'd had the feeling he was being watched...
When nothing happened, he shrugged, putting it down to squirrels, and turned to leave.
The moment he turned his back, he felt a sharp pain in the back of his neck, like a needle piercing skin.
Before he even had a chance to react, the world began to swirl, and he felt darkness sucking him down like an open plug. As he crumpled to the ground, one single thought raced through his half-conscious mind.
Squirrels don't come out at night. Not unless something stirs them first.
He felt frustration at his slow-working mind, but it lasted barely an instant, for the next moment darkness had enclosed all around him.
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Post  Dreambug Wed Jul 31, 2013 3:01 am

Griffin's reaction to the mention of Angel surprised Toby, but he was glad for it anyway. Besides, he'd have brought Angel home even if Griff loathed her. There was no way he'd leave her alone in Dayton after what happened the last time, and Dan had his hands full with the puppy as it was.
You're not planning to bring her into my house, are you?
Toby grinned. That was exactly what he'd been planning.
You know that if she hurts Rabbit Toby, I'll never forgive you.
“Oh, relax.” Toby scolded him, waving it off with a flick of his hand. “I'll muzzle her if it really bothers you. But I ain't leaving her outside like a friggin' garden gnome. She'd hate that.”
He tightened his grip around the handles of the bike, secretly feeling a wave of protectiveness for the Rottweiler. He'd once seen her as a dirty street mutt, with possible disease and temperament issues. But after he'd seen what she'd been through, struggling to feed and care for all those pups when she couldn't see the ground she walked on, he realised she was just the same as he'd been once, suffering the same fate of starving to death or getting filthy diseases from the rats and faeces on the street corners.
That was why he could never leave her, or keep her in a cage. He knew she'd never live a happy life that way.
Griff mounted behind him, but just as he was about to rev up the engine, he said something about picking the bottle up. Amused by this, Toby sat back on the seat and watched his boyfriend wander off. His trap had worked, he thought deviously, rubbing his full stomach with a content smile. It had been a strange meal, but a good one at least.
Moments passed, and Griff still hadn't come back. Toby wondered vaguely whether he'd gone for another pee, but the logic was pointless. Griff hadn't even drunk a lot since they'd met.
Then, a thud.
“Griff?” Toby frowned, his eyes shooting in the direction where Griffin's shadow had just disappeared into the bushes, higher up on the hill. “You okay?”
Silence.
“Griffin?” He repeated, his frown furrowing. He craned his neck, but he could see nothing over the hill. Without hesitation he dismounted and started jogging up towards the spot they'd just been sat. “Griffin!”
Tell me you just fell over. He begged silently. You just snagged a few twigs and tripped. Tell me...
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Wed Jul 31, 2013 11:59 am

Even when Toby approach him, Griffin didn't stir. Not because he didn't want to, but simple because he couldn't. He was, for all intensive purposes, dead. His heartbeat had slowed so much that his pulse had turned invisible, and his core body temperature was plummeting by the instant. His still fingers and blue-grey lips were those of a corpse.

It was the poison that did it, of course. The dart - that was what had put him out - was drugged; not with anything fatal, not even dangerous really, just enough to put him out for a while, long enough for a certain masked figure waiting in the trees to take him away, back to her employer. She had a dart gun slung over her shoulder, and beneath her baggy black clothes and shadowy hood, no hint of her could be seen. She blended with nature like one of its own, embracing the shadows like brothers, and watching from behind the shelter of fierce, thorny brambles. She didn't know who she was attacking and she didn't know why; all she knew was that she had to deliver him back to a Mister C. Renwick before the clock struck two. Her job didn't bother her; she was a trained professional in capture and assassination. What worried her now was not her target, but rather the spare, who proved altogether sharper than she'd first expected. She didn't know who he was or where he came from, but he had arms like a boxer, and a chest to match. If he caught her, skilled or not, she'd be in shit.
Cursing under her breath, the assassin put her dart gun away, and shrank back into the bush. Perhaps the other man would panic, thinking her target dead, and leave him there. It was wishful thinking, but at that moment, it was all she had. She could not risk exposing herself... If she couldn't lose the spare, then Renwick would just have to wait. With a society as tight as that of New Greenwich, there was no room for error. Even if it took patience the spoiled, rich bastard didn't have, he would just have to wait for the opportune moment. It would come. In time, it always came.
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Post  Dreambug Wed Jul 31, 2013 12:39 pm

Toby fell to one knee by Griffin's side, fingers heading straight for the side of his neck. There was a pulse, but it was a very faint one. Like Griffin had passed out, or something. But this wouldn't have just happened. His heartbeat was fainter than it was supposed to be when someone fainted, which meant this hadn't been an accident.
Eyes widening, Toby cupped Griff's face in his palms and patted his cheeks firmly. “Griffin... Wake up. Come on, open your eyes for me.”
Thanks to his experience in the bar he'd learnt a lot of first aid and dealt with a few unconscious customers, but Griffin hadn't been drinking. He didn't look well, either.
“Griffin!”
He looked up, scanning the area wildly for any explanation. He didn't pick up on the figure in the shadows, nor did he notice the faint needle mark in the other side of Griff's neck.
“What the Hell...”
Shaking his head, Toby's eyes fell back down to Griffin, who was going shockingly cold with shock. Toby quickly took off his jacket and covered Griff's torso with it, rubbing his arms to warm him up a little more. Nothing made sense. He'd been up and walking a minute ago. No sign of illness... It couldn't have been the food.
Frantically Toby grabbed for his phone, when he remembered with a loud curse that he'd left it in the bag attached to his bike.
“I'll be back in a second, mate.” He whispered in Griffin's ear. “Please hold on.”
[i]Please don't die...[i]
With this thought in mind, Toby scrambled to his feet and sprinted back to his bike to get the phone to call the ambulance services.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Wed Jul 31, 2013 2:39 pm

The Assassin's eyes narrowed as she watched the Boxer - as she had nicknamed him in her mind - check her quarry's pulse, then dash off in a panic. She knew he'd be back; he didn't look as if he was ready to abandon his little boyfriend yet. She scoffed, and spat on the ground beside her. "Queers." She muttered under her breath, rolling her eyes, and patting her pocket to check that her backup weapon was still there. The cold steel of the knife's blade pressed comfortingly through the dark denim of her black jeans, and with a satisfied nod, she straightened up, and darted forward, leaving the safety of the shadows behind.
The way she moved was almost cat-like, her black-shod feet darting over the ground with such lightness they barely stirred the dirt underfoot.
As she emerged from her hiding place, she placed a hand on the knife at her hip, and slid quickly down the hill on the soles of her shoes, coming to rest beside her fallen quarry. She checked his pulse; it was no longer evident to the touch, but she knew that it was there. The drug she had used would put him into a temporary state of faux death. She had hoped that it might be helpful had she lost him to Boxer, but since the other man had foolishly turned his back, she now had an opportunity on her hands.
Glancing quickly left and right, she grabbed Griffin's limp arm, and hefted him over her shoulder.
"Oof." She grunted, wincing, "Heavier than you look, ain'tcha?" Her icey eyes shot  back to where the other man had vanished, but she couldn't see over the edge of the hill. She didn't know how much time she had.
Cursing under her breath, she yanked her quarry's arms sharply around her neck, and hunched her shoulders to lift him up. Luckily, she was a little taller than he was. Why anyone wanted a shrimpy little boy like this dead, she had no idea. By the looks of him, he didn't seem to be more than sixteen, although a closer look at his face would no doubt prove otherwise.
Shaking her head, she hefted him more firmly onto her back, then started away as quickly as her legs could manage with the extra weight. Just as she was vanishing into the shadows once more, she caught sight of Boxer - in all his muscly glory - reappearing on the scene. Cursing, she forced herself on faster, stumbling through the thick underbrush as she fled to where she'd left her car - a sexy black SUV - with the motor running.
Flustered with her hurry, she tossed Griffin into the back seat like a sack of potatoes, and slammed the door closed. Then she raced around to the driver's side, closing her eyes and muttering a silent prayer that she'd made it in time. Assassins were not the muscle of any operation. She wasn't supposed to risk being caught; ever.
Damn my impatience!
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Post  Dreambug Wed Jul 31, 2013 3:49 pm

The ambulance number for New Greenwich was different to that in Dayton, just because there was one. Toby spent longer than necessary staring at the screen on his phone, struggling to understand how to use the damned thing. He'd been used to a cheap, broad Nokia phone. Not one of these ultra-slim ones with no buttons.
Growling with fury, he finally managed to get up the dialling screen, but the number still remained blank in his brain. It was something he was going to learn from Griffin, but that was no help to him, was it?
He shoved it angrily in his pocket and began to sprint up the hill once more, when he heard a car door slam from nearby. Then, an angry roar of an engine and the thrill of skidding tires and burning rubber. He knew then that this had definitely not been an accident.
Was it Paisley?
If so, then Toby had to prepare himself. Not only to rescue his boyfriend, but to kill that persistent bastard the next chance he got.
He sprinted down back to his bike, mounted it as quick as he could and yanked on his helmet. In a matter of seconds it was speeding down the road, following on after the sleek, black SUV. There was no doubt in his mind that Griffin was there. But whoever was driving him, wherever they were going, Toby had to catch them before they got there. Before it was too late.
Jerking the bike into the next gear, Toby narrowed his eyes and focused on the back of the SUV. Once it reached the main road, he would have to make sure he didn't get left behind.
I'm coming to get you. He promised. I'll take down that bastard before he hurts you again.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Thu Aug 01, 2013 4:25 pm

The assassin's eyes flicked back to her rear-view mirror, and she cursed when she saw a sleek bike - the sportiest f*cking model - cruising after her at a breakneck speed. She floored the accelerator, but the engine of the SUV only whined in protest. It was at its fastest; the city was already spinning past in a blur.
Eyes narrowing, she flicked the SUV up a gear, and gunned it again. It offered up a little more speed, and they took the next turn on two wheels.
Why the hell didn't I just kill the bastard?

The assassin held her own for a few more blocks, but soon enough it became clear that the bike was gaining on them. Renwick's mansion was on the other side of town... They'd never make it in time.
"F*ck." She slammed a fist against the steering wheel, and at that moment, a voice piped up from the back seat, "It's unladylike to swear. Also, you just missed your exit."
"I what-" She swung the steering wheel, swerving across the road, then checked her rear view mirror again, and snarled in annoyance. "I'm not even taking an exit here!" She spat.
"Duh." Griffin leaned over the back of the passenger seat, peering innocently at the scenery flashing past outside the window.
"I don't even know where we're going. You're the one kidnapping me."
"You don't sound too upset about it." She growled, clenching her teeth in cold fury, knuckles turning white on the steering wheel.
"Oh, I'm not." Griffin answered brightly, grabbing the rear-view mirror, and angling it to check his teeth. Finding them spotless, he smirked, then smooched shamelessly at his reflection. "Toby's gonna catch up any second." He pointed out cheerfully, "He's gonna be mad."
With a huff, the assassin jerked her mirror straight. "Yeah, and you're gonna be dead."
Griffin snorted. "Doubt it." He pointed toward the fuel gauge, "You're running on empty."
"Wha-" He eyes flicked to the dashboard, and her face fell in despair. The petrol light was on.
"GAH!" Furious, she slammed her fists against the dash. Already, the SUV was lurching and spluttering, slowly grinding to a halt. She could have kicked herself for being so stupid.
"I'll be back for you!" She spat to her quarry, flinging open the door of the moving vehicle.
"Hey!" Griff scrambled forward, grabbing the steering wheel to steady it, "Where the hell do you think you're going? At least tell me why you're trying to kidnap me."
But the woman had already dived out of the car, and she hit the ground in a roll, leaping to a sprint in instants. Griffin jerked up the handbrake, and hopped out of the car himself, watching as she sprinted down the road, and vanished down an alleyway. His eyes narrowed.
Just who are you...?
"Toby, hey!" He jogged into the road on wobbly legs, waving down his boyfriend's bike. In all honesty, his mind was still a little groggy from the drugs. In fact, it was a wonder they had worn off when they did. Then again, even with his small size, Griffin had always needed triple doses of everything. With the overwhelming extent of his energy, nothing could keep him down long.
His eyes flicked briefly back to the alleyway.
You won't get away with this. I'll track you down, and make you pay.
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Post  Dreambug Fri Aug 02, 2013 1:56 pm

For several minutes Toby struggled to keep up with the SUV as it swerved in and out of the fast-moving traffic, cutting to new roads and swerving down quiet streets. Since he'd only been driving his bike a day he hadn't had much practice with driving the thing, but he knew how to speed, and soon enough that proved to be his success.
He pulled forward to the rump of the sleek, black vehicle, leaning forward in a streamline position, and glaring through the back window into the rear-view mirror. A dark figure glared back at him, but the windows were faintly tinted therefore he couldn't see the face.
Paisley, if it's you in there, I will f*cking kill you for this.
He revved up the engine and brought his front wheel threateningly close to the rear bumper, then swerved around so he was parallel to the SUV. It slowly began to drag behind him and, suspicious as to whether this was some trick or a malfunction. Frowning, he adjusted his speed and shot the driver a look.
In a flash a figure leapt out of the driver's seat, landing in a dark blur, and disappeared into the night. Toby swore, taken by surprise, and skid his bike to a halt as the SUV rolled slowly in front of him.
Once it had safely parked, Toby approached it slowly, still mounted on the bike, preparing himself for his rival. But the figure who met him was none other than Griffin.
Gobsmacked, Toby flung off the bike – quickly flicking on the stand to keep it from falling on him – and jogged over to his boyfriend. He wondered vaguely if he'd been deceived, but when he ripped off his helmet and stared into the man's dark green eyes, he realised with a huge sigh of relief that Griffin was, on the whole, untouched.
Toby placed his hands on both of Griffin's shoulders, his eyes flicking over his face and the rest of the body, checking him over. He seemed fairly groggy, but other than that he was his usual self.
“What happened?” He asked breathlessly. “Was it Paisley? Where did he go?”
I'll kill the bastard. I swear to God I'll kill him.
His eyes flicked down the alley the dark figure disappeared into and, without another word or single thought, he bolted into the shadows as fast as he could. If Griffin had been healthy he probably would have got there quicker, but he wasn't in shape for it.

“What the Hell?” He roared into the darkness, vaulting quickly up onto a small shed-type building. Swearing under his breath he grabbed a protruding pole and swung onto the next street, sprinting on after the echoing footsteps. “You're gunna run from me, you bastard? Get back here and face me, dammit!”
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Sat Aug 03, 2013 12:30 pm

Once Griffin had stepped out of the SUV, he found Toby jogging up to him almost immediately.
"Toby-" He began urgently, pointing in the direction the assassin had gone, but before he could finish his thought, Toby cut him off.
“What happened?”
"Well-"
“Was it Paisley? Where did he go?”
"No." Griffin huffed, clearly annoyed at being interrupted. He shrugged Toby's hands off his shoulders. "It was-"
But again, before he could finish, Toby had cut him off - this time by racing away so fast it made Griffin's head spin. He stumbled back from his boyfriend's momentum, and shouted angrily after him, "Oi, where do you think you're going? Wait for me, dumbass!"
Furious, he stumbled over to Toby's shiny new bike, and mounted it without a second thought. One powerful roar of the engine, and he was flaying down the narrow alleyway where Toby and the assassin had vanished moments before, handlebars very nearly scraping the walls. As he burst out of the alley and onto the next street, he caught a glimpse of Toby sprinting beside the road as he flew on by.
"Wait for me next time!" He yelled into the wind, flashing a rude hand gesture, then gunning the motor to catch up with his new 'ladyfriend'.
He could see her sprinting a few hundred meters ahead, and a blink of the eye later, he had sped past her. Pulling up the bike in a cloud of dust, he leaped off - stumbling on shaky legs - and threw himself into her path.
"Freeze!" He ordered, but once again, he was ignored. She shoved him roughly as she sprinted by, and in his groggy state, it was all Griffin could do to catch hold of her wrist. Then, like a ship's anchor, his limp body jerked her to a stop.
"Let go of me!" She spat, thrashing and scratching like a frenzied kitten. Griffin slammed her back against the wall, so hard he heard her teeth clack. He caught sight of a tattoo on her neck, and his eyes narrowed.
"Who hired you?" He demanded, "Tell me!"
"I'll kill you!" She screamed, slashing out with a black-clad arm. A knife darted expertly for his throat, and with his diminished reaction time, Griffin only barely dodged it, releasing the assassin's wrist in the process. Again she bolted, and he stumbled one dizzy step after her, then gave up as the world started to spin.
"Toby!" He fell back against the wall, pointing urgently after the woman as his boyfriend raced past, "She's from an Assassin's Guild! Stop her!"
Polo trapped in an inkpot
Polo trapped in an inkpot

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Post  Dreambug Sat Aug 03, 2013 3:00 pm

The figure ignored his bellows into the darkness, and just as Toby's energy began to run out, he heard the sound of a revving engine thundering up behind him, and suddenly his shadow was stretching for miles down the street in front of him as a single car light burned his back. For a brief moment of panic he thought someone had come to back up the figure, to corner Toby, but when he heard Griffin's voice, he relaxed slightly.
The bike soon reached his side, but instead of letting him vault on, Griffin just shot a rude hand gesture in his direction and snapped, “Wait for me next time!
Toby rolled his eyes. He should have thought about using the bike himself.
It took him a long while to reach both Griffin and the figure, but when he did he found Griff pinning the rival against the wall, facing him. Toby skidded to a halt, gasping for breath, and peered with narrow eyes at Griff's kidnapper.
They widened again. A woman?
But before he could jump in and help restrain her, she'd lashed at Griffin with a blade and fled the scene. Griffin himself was untouched.
She's from an Assassin's Guild! Stop her!
He shot Griff a look of alarm. An assassin? Seriously?
But there was no time. He leapt back into a sprint and headed after the female. Telling her to stop wouldn't work. She was already fearless, so it wasn't like he could threaten her from afar.
Besides which she was a damned good runner. He wouldn't be able to catch up to her unless she stopped, or got trapped.
With this thought in mind, Toby stopped in his tracks and ran back to get to his bike. Then, without hesitation, he went back after her with a fresh lot of fury.
She put up a good challenge to catch up to, trying to throw objects in his direction and knocking things out onto the track behind her, but eventually Toby had driven in front of her, stopping her in her tracks.
He dismounted, leaving his helmet still dangling by the handle, and approached her, his shoulders square and his stance menacing.
She attempted to lash out at him, but he ended up grabbing her wrist and squeezing it until the knife fell out of her hand. She'd have more hidden under her clothes, but he didn't bother searching. A hand clamped around her jaw, silencing whatever she had to say, and in one swift movement he twisted her arm behind her back. She bent over to release some of the pain, and he took this to his own advantage, shoving her face-first into the nearest wall.
Using his body to pin her securely against the smooth brick, he lowered his lips to her ear and growled menacingly. “So, assassin, care to tell me who hired you? Or do you need more persuasion?”
She may have had an athletic figure and a pretty face, but even stood so close to her, Toby was not at all attracted. His motion with her was naught the romantic type, and when he brought his lis to snarl threateningly in her ear there was nothing friendly about it.
“Griffin?” He called over his shoulder, then turned back to the assassin with a lip curled in disgust. “Call the Authorities. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to find a murdering rat stalking their streets.”
His eyes narrowed threateningly.
He will do it. He thought menacingly. That's how far we'll go, unless you tell me what you know.
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Post  Polo trapped in an inkpot Sun Aug 04, 2013 3:17 pm

Toby grabbed the bike, and Griffin was left to trudge wearily after the two distant figures, sighing and grumbling to himself all the while. If Toby didn't catch that damn assassin, he'd be sleeping in the gutter for sure.
With a huff, Griffin folded his arms, finally rounding a corner to find Toby pinning the assassin roughly against the wall. She was thrashing and squirming, straining against Toby's hold, with strings of profanity issuing from her mouth.
"Let go of me!" She screamed, pulling madly, "I'll come for you, you bastard! I'll kill you when you're sleeping. I'll hit your whole damn family!" Her voice rose in frustration until Griffin could actually hear it, and he rolled his eyes dramatically. Women. Always so damn hormonal.

Just as he approached, he heard his name mentioned.
“Griffin?”
"Hm?"
“Call the Authorities. I'm sure they'll be thrilled to find a murdering rat stalking their streets.”
"It won't make any difference!" The assassin spat furiously, "I'll never talk." Her eyes flashed dangerously from behind a dart mask, "And besides, you don't have any evidence. How do you plan to convince the Timekeepers that-"
"Actually," Griffin cut her off with a raised hand, smiling helpfully, "I'm an investigative Timekeeper. My eyewitness account would count as evidence." He slid down the wall, sitting cross-legged on the sidewalk (It was considerably cleaner than those in Dayton), and gestured for the assassin to do the same. "If I decide to give an account, that is?"
The assassin raised an eyebrow, then squirmed frustratedly, but she couldn't escape Toby's grip.
"I'm listening." She growled reluctantly.
"Sit her down, Toby." Griffin ordered, stretching up to jerk firmly on Toby's trousers. "And you too. Let's all sit down and discuss this like adults."
He wiggled his bottom on the cold concrete, his crossed legs causing pins and needles.
"Here's the deal," He turned back to the assassin, "Either you tell me who hired you and I cause all sorts of hell for them, or you don't, and I'll turn my focus on you. And believe me," He flashed a silky sweet smile, "I can bring it, Honey." His wink drew a shudder from the assassin, and she fell silent as she seemed to consider his offer.
"Nobody ever needs to know about this." He repeated, "If you'll just tell me what sorry prick wants me dead."
"I'll never talk." She snarled sulkily, though she sounded less determined than before.
"Whatever." Griffin shrugged, scrambling tiredly to his feet. "Come on then, Toby. Let's take her home."
Polo trapped in an inkpot
Polo trapped in an inkpot

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