How lovely the silence of growing things

[Ripper Nightshade]

"What?" he said to Mik, realizing that his utterance of the word no had been mistaken by Mik for something else. What? No! He heard it; how did Mik hear it? But there was nobody there, nobody speaking aloud. It was in his mind, like it usually was, creator to golem. Or in this case, new owner and golem.

And he didn't seem pleased at all with Rip's no. What did he do? Pax said now like he was running out of patience with him. Would he deactivate him if he didn't do as he was told? Hah... joke was on him; Rip was no longer scared of that threat. Once, it terrified him because he had so much he wanted to do and see and experience. Now he was just... tired and sad and sick.

"No!" he said again. Why? Why did Pax want him to bring Mik? And Mik was over by the bed now, looking at Rip defensively. Since Mik was looking a lot like he was about to lie down on the bed, Rip decided to make his break for it, heading out of the bedroom and closing the door behind him--but there was no way to lock it from this side so he didn't have much time. He ran for the front door and shut it, too, running straight for the front gate once he was outside.

[Mikko Ashby]

Okay so

Rip just ran out the door

Mik was too stunned for a moment to do anything, but then he bolted out too, wrestling with the handle viciously. "HEY! WHAT'D I SAY ABOUT RUNNING?!" He shouted breathlessly as he ran, literally sprinting across the courtyard barefoot in that too-short robe that belonged to Brayden Smith. It was a hideous barf-worthy tan color, almost beige.

The door to Jack's apartment flew open and Raphael's face appeared, looking stunned. "R-Rip and Mik are running away!" He shouted back to the people inside, urgently.

"Rip's running away!" Mik yelled as he tried to lunge at Rip. "Stop him!"

[Ripper Nightshade]

"NO!" Rip screamed as Mik caught up to him. He was briefly stopped by the damned gate. But he finally opened it and once he passed through it, he tried desperately to close it behind him. But Mik was on him now and it was impossible to close it without closing it on him bodily and probably causing harm.

"Let me go!" he cried. "I have to go! If I don't..."

He didn't know. He didn't know what would happen. But he had a feeling if Pax knew he wasn't afraid of deactivation, he would use Mik against him. Hurt him.

"Stay away, you're only going to get hurt."

[Mikko Ashby]

"I don't care!" Mik was hugging him again, around the waist, grappling with him and wrestling with him as he writhed desperately, trying to get away. "If you get hurt... I get hurt! We're in this... TOGETHER!"

What the hell was Rip not understanding about this?! Mik was sticking by him! Through thick and thin! End of discussion! He would rather be there with Rip in the worst moments than sit around waiting for him to solve everything magically, so he could only be present when it was all sunshine, rainbows and kittens.

"If you leave I'll get hurt anyway!" He would--his heart would be broken. He would be devastated not knowing where Rip was or what he was doing. Or what people were doing to him. That was worse than being there and suffering, he thought.

[Ripper Nightshade]

Rip tried to move away and get down the street but Mik stubbornly held onto him. And somewhere, he could see that others were mobilizing from the other apartment. The last thing he needed was everybody following him! And he couldn't seem to do anything about Mik's tight hold on him.

"Fine!" he cried, hating it, every moment of it. "Then let's go! They're going to follow us!"

And make things so, so, so much worse. Fear still gripped his heart and he didn't know what he was supposed to do with Mik. Maybe find a way to ditch him before he got back to Greenwood, where Pax undoubtedly waited for him.

[Mikko Ashby]

"Oh shit! Yeah!" Mik grabbed his hand and ran for it again but this time--with Rip. He didn't know why the hell Rip wanted to get away and he didn't know where they were going, but he knew that he was going there with Rip. To protect him. To keep him safe, as much as a barefoot human wearing a short man's robe could.

"Where are we going?!" Home? It was in the opposite direction though. This way led to some less opulent apartments and towards the slightly seedier side of town. Mik panted as he ran, throwing glances over his shoulder at the others who were chasing them but slowly, steadily lagging. Good thing they had such long legs!

[Ripper Nightshade]

Rip sped up, making sure that the others didn't follow them and cutting around a series of buildings so that they would lose them even if they continued trying to catch up to them. Why were they even coming after them, anyway? Didn't they have more important things to worry about? Like Brayden?! Rip should be the least on their minds at this moment.

Once he was sure that he'd lost them, he went around the block to Greenwood, coming upon it from the back. He found his hand was still holding Mik's and when he looked down and realized that, he swallowed hard.

"You shouldn't have come with me," he said ruefully. The Greenwood apartments were rundown and nothing at all like the pretty Sunrise apartments. There was no gate. The paint peeled on the building and when they entered the lobby, it had a distinct musty smell that old buildings that hadn't been properly cared for at some point always seemed to have.

He stood at the old elevator and looked Mik over. "You still have time..."

[Mikko Ashby]

Mik felt horrible about what they were doing but at the same time, he was trying to protect everyone. Even Rip. Especially Rip. Eventually they lost their pursuers, after a series of twists and turns that left Mik dizzy. To his surprise, they rounded up on Greenwood and Mik—oh wait. Wait. Wasn't Cori kidnapped and kept here? Made sense that those guys would still be here...

But that also meant Lieve and Cori would know where they were. Hopefully. Lieve was smart; he would definitely piece it all together! Mik had the utmost confidence in his friends. He squeezed Rip's hand as Rip turned back to him but he didn't say anything, not until they were at the elevator.

"I'm not leaving." Mik pressed the button to call it down. "Maybe this is a good chance to find out what those creeps are up to. We could bring that information back to the others once we find out enough."

Yeah... if they treated this like a spying mission instead of like them walking into the arms of death... Nah it didn't help. Mik was scared, sure. He was scared all over—but he also loved Rip and he loved Rip more than he was scared of whoever was up there.

[Ripper Nightshade]

Rip sighed. There was no way short of knocking Mik out to keep him from following him. And he thought about it. He seriously thought about it. But by now, they were already here and even if he knocked him out right now, Mik would still be here. And worst of all, he would be unable to defend himself in any way, should the need arise.

As if making up Rip's mind for him, Mik pressed the button for the elevator. Rip stared at the numbers on the top, watching as the elevator made its way down to them. He used his free hand to curl around his own chest and grasped onto the gaudy coat he had put back on when he'd rushed into the bathroom to get dressed and leave.

Meanwhile, Mik was still in nothing but a tiny robe. Rip might have thought it was funny--if he wasn't buzzing inside like a bunch of bees threatening to escape.

When the doors slid open noisily, Rip stepped inside, feeling a lot like a prisoner meeting his end. He wished that Mik would let go of his hand but he was so, so stubborn. Once they were inside, Rip pushed the button for his floor, on automatic. He wished that the elevator would stall--sometimes it sounded like it was about to--but not today. It stopped with a ding and opened up onto the familiar floor he'd been living on for the past... he didn't know how long anymore. Months.

Walking down that hall felt like a death sentence. Not for him, but for Mik.

"He told me to bring you," he said quietly, barely an octave above a whisper. He shook his head. "You shouldn't have come..."

And there it was. The door loomed before him, the same one that Cori had escaped through, the same one Rip had stared at from the other side while he sat on the couch with Raphael and wondered when Keith was coming back. His eyes narrowed. Keith.

It didn't surprise him at all that when he reached for the door, it wasn't locked. He opened it but didn't enter. He let the door creak open while he stood in front of Mik, hand still tight in his, heart in his throat.

[Mikko Ashby]

What could he say? He lived dangerously.

No, he didn't. Mik literally lived the typical American teenager life—hanging out with his best buddies, helping his Aunt Shel at the shelter, going to class at the local community college and having a good time overall. He never hated his life even though he met and shook hands with tragedy early on in his childhood. He never thought of himself as that poor little orphan boy who had no mommy and daddy, boo hoo hoo. Self-pity wasn't a word in Mik's vocabulary.

He was also bolder than most others and more willing to put himself out there. In a way, having experienced that pain before made all other painful moments bearable. How could it get worse than losing a parent? How could anything be more gut-wrenching than realizing that he was alone in the world? Before Aunt Shel came to claim him, Mik spent a bit of time in the foster system and that really opened his eyes to what pain really was.

So here he was. He was walking into a trap and he knew it, and he still did it. Beside him, Rip was nervous and anxious and unhappy and Mik felt that. He hung on to Rip's hand tightly, all the way up in the elevator, all the way up to the door with the faded numbers on it. "He doesn't know what he's getting himself into," was all he muttered. If that guy thought Mik was going down without a fight, he was dead wrong.

At the door, he steeled himself and as it opened he took in a sharp breath. Nobody was inside, apparently. Oh—wait. A tall, dark-haired man walked into view and gazed at them. He seemed surprised to see Mik standing there but he beckoned for them to enter as he remained where he was. Mik was the first to take a step inside, trying to keep his expression frosty and aloof—even though he was shivering inside, and his hand in Rip's felt clammy and sweaty.

"Ripper." The man nodded. "You have done well. Leave the human here, you may retire to your room."

Mik's nostrils flared. "The human has a name, you know."

"...hm," was all the man said, though his brows lifted. "Indeed."

[Ripper Nightshade]

"No..."

He tugged on Mik's hand but Mik was already stepping into the old, familiar apartment. It looked lonely and sad now, without the people who once occupied it. Presently, it seemed to literally just be Pax. But Keith could be anywhere and the idea sent ice down Rip's spine and terror in his stomach.

Mik seemed ready to face whatever they were walking into head on but Rip was far more reluctant, clutching onto Mik and wanting to pull him back out. But no. They were here and Pax was looking at Mik like he didn't expect to see him here. Well! He wouldn't be here, if it weren't for Mik's stubbornness!

The direct order hurt as he stood there, trying to deny it. The same as when he blurted out no earlier--trying to defy a direct order from his master made things... difficult. The closer he had come to the apartment with Mik, the less and less the pressure inside felt until now. And now it was mounting again because Rip didn't immediately go to his room, as he was ordered to.

"What are you going to do with him?" he asked, through clenched teeth.

[Mikko Ashby]

Who even was this guy? How much product did he put into his hair? It was almost too perfectly coiffed and done up, in a way that made Mik want to dunk his head in a tub full of water. He snorted at the man's unimpressed response and slightly stepped to the side to try and screen Rip from him. Nobody was putting their hands on his goddamn man. Not today, not ever.

"I will not hurt him. You will please leave." His words sounded robotic and not like the way a human would speak. So formal. So stiff.

Mik turned to Rip with a tight smile. "It's okay. Don't worry about me, I can take care of myself." He knew where to kick to make it hurt! Mik took self-defense classes after that older guy tried to stalk him before, so he was fairly confident that he would at least not go down without a fight. "I'll be okay." His gaze softened even if his expression couldn't relax.

"All I want is your imprint." The man approached. "Then you may join Ripper."

"Excuse me, you're not touching me," Mik snapped back. Imprint? His imprint? What the hell did that mean?!

"I will not need to touch you."

[Ripper Nightshade]

Although Pax said he wouldn't hurt him, Rip didn't know if he could trust that. A golem's version of not hurting somebody could mean something different than what Rip had come to know as pain. What if he did something horrible and irreversible to Mik? Rip was fine with being deactivated--he wasn't so fine with Mik getting hurt or losing a part of himself because of him. But he'd tried. He tried to leave Mik behind and damn it... curse his long legs.

Rip shook his head. He didn't believe Mik. What did he mean, he could take care of himself? If he could take care of himself, he wouldn't have walked into this willingly! Blindly, really, since neither of them knew what Pax wanted with the so-called "human."

Why couldn't he just tell him what he was doing? Why did he have to send him away? And the direct order was really starting to crawl under his skin. He backed up, his legs moving without his permission towards his room. Which was not his room. It was Keith's room. He didn't want to go there. But his feet carried him there as he listened to Pax saying something about an imprint.

Rip did not know what that meant. He didn't like it though. He didn't like any of this.

Entering the room he shared with Keith, he could feel different emotions flickering inside of him. Familiar bed. Familiar clothes. Some were his, some were Keith's. He could still smell Keith in the room. Not unpleasant but it hurt his heart and made him want to recoil at the same time. After what Keith made him do, he could never see him the same way.

Swallowing hard, he sat gingerly on the edge of the bed but that only lasted for a few seconds before he was back on his feet, pacing around the room, touching the dresser, looking at the mirror mounted on it and then quickly looking away. His eyes were so red-rimmed, even under all that gaudy gold makeup he'd applied for his meeting with Brayden. He didn't want to be reminded of that.

He turned away from the dresser and ran his hand over the headboard of the bed, looking out the window on the other wall. It faced out to another building in the vicinity. Not a pretty view at all.

[Mikko Ashby]

"What have you done to Ripper?"

"Nothing!" Mik found himself forced to sit on the couch like—literally his limbs wouldn't listen to him. He struggled fiercely but he ended up on the couch anyway, with that creep manipulating his legs to walk over, bend and his ass to hit the cushion. Magic. Cop-out bullshit.

"His soul has grown." The man stood before him and for a chilling moment Mik thought he was going to unzip his pants so he could force Mik to blow him. Well he was going to get a big CHOMP if he tried! Mik would bite his dick off without a second thought!

Instead, the man only traced the outline of his face. His hands glowed softly green as he did so, seeming to map out Mik's features. "It could not have happened after what happened to Brayden Smith."

"You know...?" Helpless to resist, Mik glared up at him. And his stupid perfect hair.

"Yes. I was there with Keith. He did not know it, of course. His hatred blinds him."

"...fucking asshole. Both of you. What are you even doing to me? Let me go!"

"I will, after I finish imprinting you. Did you grow Ripper's soul? He appears protective of you. A very... human trait." The man paused; his hands glowed gold now.

"Whatever." Mik shut his mouth. He wasn't telling this asshole anything! But to his dismay, a sort of glowing magical mask began to form in the air right in front of his face, like the guy was weaving it out of magic. "What's that? What're you doing?"

"Imprinting," the idiot said again infuriatingly. He plucked the mask delicately out of the air and studied it. "This will do. You may join Ripper."

And again against his will, Mik was forced to march down the hall and into some random room where Rip was pacing around. "Rip?" He collapsed as the control of his limbs was restored to him, but for a second he lost all strength in his arms and legs and folded at the door.

[Ripper Nightshade]

"Jack..." Keith breathed. It was the very first real memory that Rip had that was his and not Jack's. When he opened his eyes and Keith looked him over as Rip stood there, naked and obedient and ready to do anything for his creator. "You look exactly like him."

And Rip stared at him, inordinately proud of something he had nothing to do with. Did he? Did he look exactly like him? If Keith was pleased, then Rip was pleased. But then a dark cloud crossed Keith's face and he grabbed hold of his chin as he moved in close, stepping into his personal space.

"Don't fucking look at me like that."

Rip still didn't know what he'd done wrong but Keith had some kind of strange love/hate relationship with him. Sometimes, he was so, so pleased with him. And sometimes, he was irrationally irritated with him for reasons he never voiced for Rip. One thing was for sure; he had never been enough for him. Keith wanted something he would never, ever have. Rip almost felt sorry for him now that he realized that. Almost.

But he couldn't bring himself to really feel it, not when he remembered coming back into his body with a dead Brayden staring into nothing with glassy, lifeless eyes.

Closing his eyes, he took in a sharp, painful breath.

When he heard his name, he thought for a sickening second that it was Keith but to his relief, it was Mik. Rushing over to his side, he wrapped his arms around Mik before he ended up slipping to the floor. Alarmed at Mik's apparent weakness, he helped him to the bed.

"Are you okay? What did he do to you?!"