We Are Bulletproof

"Keith? Where are you?"

@Blue

(OOC, so I figure it can be Keith or it can be Pax, it's up to you.)

Where the hell are you and what the hell are you doing?

@Blue @Raphael Malai

Rhys

was

pissed.

Which was sort of new for him. Mostly he just felt boredom, mild amusement, and mild irritation. Strong emotions weren't really in his repertoire and hadn't been for a good chunk of his life. That was what happened, when one's wings were ripped away at a young age. Before he had even formed a personality, it was all gone. All of... anything he might have cared about, hobbies he might have enjoyed, skills he might have wanted to learn.

Rhys was in a perpetual state of boredom. Listless, lifeless. Unless he was hunting something down, which entertained him for a time but he was so easily bored that even that only sparked any interest for so long.

But now? Now he was rightly angry. So, this idiot wanted to drum in the fact that he was a friend, did he? And then he wanted to leave? He should be grateful that Rhys even gave him any time at all to leave before the hounds were after him and the hounds were literal. Fairy hounds. Dark fae. Not nice creatures with corrosive, slavering mouths with rows of sharp teeth and glowing red eyes. Rhys' father loved them, in the way he loved anything. For their usefulness and their brutality.

Rhys entered the apartment he shared with a handful of the others, Raphael being one of them. He hadn't been here to pack or take his things. Good. Rhys began to gather things up so he could burn them to ashes. Raphael liked his stupid little souvenirs, his coffee cups and the collection he'd amassed for his human life--his books for class, his backpack, his "cute" lunch tin he just had to have.

"What are you doing?"

A familiar voice intoned. Rhys hadn't even heard him come in. He was just there, standing in the doorway with that casual smirk, watching as Rhys gathered things together like he was the one about to skip town. Rhys tossed the tin he'd been holding and tossed it carelessly away into the corner of the room. Raphael's room. If he answered with the truth, there was no head start. Keith was worse than any dark fae hound.

"Looking for something," Rhys said.

Keith bit into the apple he was holding, the very picture of casual. He stood there without a shirt on, his hair wet from a shower. He'd been inside the apartment the entire time but Rhys had been too absorbed in his anger to notice it.

"Well... what is it? Maybe I can help you... find it." The way he said it, Rhys got the feeling he didn't believe him.

"It's the key to the library. He was supposed to find a book for me and give it back."

Keith laughed, then tossed the apple at Rhys, who caught it merely out of reflex. Annoyingly, he caught it where Keith had already taken a bite. Rhys watched as Keith entered the bedroom and moved straight for Raf's bed. Leaning down, he put his hand underneath and retrieved an ornate golden key.

"This thing?"

Rhys reached down and plucked it out of Keith's hand.

"Yes," he said, "that's what I was looking for."

"Next time just ask me first before you destroy the kid's room," Keith said in amusement, eyebrow raised as he took in the mess that had become Raf's room. "Idiot."

Rhys' eyes narrowed but he said nothing more, just took the key he hadn't even been looking for and left Keith in the room alone.