Devil's Spoke

[Lief]

╫ T H E ~ W H E E L ╫​

DEVIL'S SPOKE​

Ah, The Wheel... the highlight of the Mid Rim, favoured space station of the Galaxy's most hedonistic beings. Home to gambling dens, and sport pits, businesses, and even some affluent penthouses. Of course, it also housed the lesser drudgery, but their domiciles were found far beneath the great spokes which held the wheel itself in place. Far from the heart of the station.

Tomas had entered through one of those lower docking bays, meant for suppliers and staff and not visitors, his beloved Gorskin Deliverance now at the mercy of kriff knew who, and the precious cargo which lay onboard was presently being offloaded into one of Yarg the Hutt's many vessels. This was his least favourite part of any job, the waiting around. The anticipation, and hope that the operation went smoothly. One of Yarg's officers, a Rodian named Nidd, must have noticed his impatience because he sent him away with a credit chip to, quote, 'unwind'.

He didn't like being told what to do, especially not by some crime lord's lackey, but he knew that Yarg was true to his word and that his ship was in good hands. They'd been dealing with one another for years now, since Tomas broke from the Navy... With a sigh he took the chip and left for one of the many turbolifts which would shoot him up through the central spine of The Wheel and into the commercial sector.

By the time he reached the Cosmo Lounge, Tomas felt his worries begin to melt away. The cantina was a particular favourite of his, it was busy but not overbearingly loud and there was always some sort of entertainment to be found. From bands to eye-candy it hadn't let him down yet, and today was no different. Some might even call it a two-for-one. Music and a show... Those were his favourite days in the Lounge.

He ordered a drink, and then slipped into an empty booth to admire the dancers. A mixture of male and female, and some beings he couldn't tell, moved to the sound of a smooth jatz band. Not his favourite genre to listen to, but the dancers more than made up for that. His eyes fell across all of them with even appreciation as he sipped his bloody rancor. Tomas made a point to never order the same thing twice until he'd finished a menu... And from the looks of things, he was almost done with the Cosmo Lounge's long list of beverages.

 

[Crix Meriet]

It was strange to be back in the mid rim having spent a year drifting in the abyss avoiding civilisation when he could and trying to experience more of nature. He had lived a life of city dwelling and excess with little exposure to the natural world. Being away from the city and in the peace of greenery reminded him of being with Toby. It was the sort of life he ought to have given Toby.

As lovely as the sight of uncovered nature was there was only so long Crix could spend away from modern comforts. More speciffically away from a bar. It was the quest for a bar which had brought him back to the wheel. He had brought Toby here once or twice on their adventure but it had not been Toby's sort of thing the noise and displays of hedonism had been too much for him. It wasn't too much for Crix though, infact it was just what he needed the noise drowned out the voices of his greif which darkened his mind.

He arrived into the top level of the wheel, as befitted his class and wealth and left the luxury yacht he'd inhabited for the past year in the hands of his pilot. Then it had been onto a penthouse to unpack for his stay. He had polished off half a bottle of spirit before he left again. He was not as bad as he had been a year ago but Crix was still relient on the devils water to get him through the day.

Suitably numb he finally felt ready to be around people again and made his way to the Cosmo lounge. Soft jazz music was playing as he entered and the stage was occupied by a dancer, though unlike his last visit he didn't pay the entertainment much mind. It hadlost it's luster in his eyes becoming as grey as everything else in his life. He was here for one thing only Alcohol and the isolating effect of a crowd.

Something caught his attention as he stood at the bar though. A voice from the past cutting through the din. He turned to look but saw nothing in the crowd and passed it off as a flash of memory. A desperate grip of nostalgia. Was he truely so lonely that he was imaging freindly voices from a long gone past?

But then he thought he saw him too, Tomas ... A man he had thought lost. Crix began to stare, watching the man intently as he made his way to a booth. Then he turned and Crix caught sight of his eyes. The blue of them had been burned into his brain like the fires of the thrusters which had carried him away a decade ago.

As if in a trance Crix followed him, breaking from the stupor only as his hand touched Tomas's Cheek "Is it truely you ?" He asked in a trance like state "After all these years?"

[member="Tomas Midosea"]

 

[Lief]

There was something mesmerizing about watching a group of bodies moving in unison, to some dance they had no doubt practiced a thousand times over. Each step to a beat, matching the rhythm of the band... For a time only his eyes moved, following them, observing them both singularly and as a group. Every now and then he'd lift the glass to his lips and take a sip, but for the most part he was doing as the Rodian had instructed. Unwinding. Relaxing. Soon he knew he'd be called back to his ship, and then it was back to Coruscant with him, back to work, but for now he could simply breathe.

His position didn't change until a hand reached out and touched his cheek. Though it was only a soft, delicate hand which lay upon his cheek he responded immediately, reaching up to grasp the wrist in order to stop whoever it was from harming him. Quite clearly a natural reflex, though whether borne from his early years, or his time spent in warzones, even he did not know. Tomas turned his head as the stranger spoke, tone a little harsher than intended so as to try and scare off the assailant.

"No," he snapped, just as his eyes fell upon the man who stood there transfixed.

Almost at once the grasp loosened, though he still held the man in place, and the other words which had been upon his tongue faded into nothingness. He blinked, eyes narrowing ever so slightly as he tried to piece it all together. And then he let out a shaky breath, a heavy sigh of relief.

"Master Crix?"

The words felt strange on his tongue, as though they transported him back in time to the days when he was just a child. He had always referred to the boy as 'Master Crix' though always with a softer, more affectionate tone than when he addressed the others. Saying it again was merely habit at this point, and Tomas seemed bothered by the fact he'd said it at all, though he never voiced it.

"No... It can't be... What are you doing all the way out here?"

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

Sound was a strange thing in his trance like state, the rythem of the music seemed so far away as if it and the people dancing to it were mere figments of his imagination. By contrast his footsteps were loud as if falling right next to his ear. He moved on instinct alone to pass through the crowd unaware of his own decision making eyes never leaving Tom. Only that man was real. Time passed strangely too, some secounds felt as if they dragged for minutes and some periods of time seemed to be skipped entirly. He did not feel jarred though, he didn't truely feel anything, in his dreamlike state nothing mattered but the next step.

The warmth of skin to skin contact sparked some realisation in him, he woke up. Mind returned with his body to the present, yet his hand didn't move and his words still fell over one another. Before he could do or say more his wrist was gripped and a dark look came over Tomas. A look he'd never seen before, a look itching to fight. It was almost shocking to be grabbed by Tom part of him still saw Tom as something he pocessed. Tom had never touched him in this way when they were children, he would not still have a hand to grab if he had.

Once the intial shock was over though Crix understood. Tomas was not his slave any more, Crix himself had seen to that and so ofcourse he would not react well to a hand on his face out of the blue.

Little more than a secound passed after the harsh denial before everything loosened. The grip on his wrist, the lines on Tom's face.Everything changed and recollection replaced the coiled look in the ex-slaves eyes. Crix did nothing even as his hand was partly freed except to let out a breathe he hadn't realised he was holding.

Then Tom greeted him the way he always had, at first it seemed the rightest thing in the world for Tom to call him master. That had always been the way, less because Crix demmanded it and more because the circumstances did. Crix and Tom were not meant to be freinds. The circumstances were different now though and it felt almost dirty to be called Master. He shook slightly in shame or revulsion and spoke.

"Just Crix is fine Tom, that is all I am now "

He didn't answer the next question right away instead asking one of his own "Can I sit ?" He asked softly gesturing to a space by Tom. It felt oddly strange to be asking Tomas's permission to do something. Crix had never had to ask him before, if he had wanted to do something would merely tell Tom that was what to occur. As much for the slaves safety as for his convenience. Tom could not appear to be anything but servile if he was to avoid the harsh hand of the late Lord Meriet. That circumstance had changed to though, Father was dead and his brother was far far away.

Once that matter was settled Crix answered Tom's orgional question "I am returning to civillisation after a year of drifting, trying to find a place for my self" His responce probably raised more questions than it answered but it did not feel right to discuss his flight from his family or his dead husband so early in their reintroduction.

"How are you ? Are you well ?" he asked , well more blurted. Those questions had been asked in his head many times in the years since he'd uncaged Tom and herded him into the cargo bay of a ship. He had never thought to get an answer. "Where are you staying ?" He recalled a little game they had played as children then and with a small smile he asked one final question "Have you reclaimed your throne yet my prince?"

 

[Lief]

It seemed that Crix enjoyed the title as much as Tomas did, and that was to say not very much at all. He realized that it shouldn't have shocked him, even in their youth the younger of the two was always looking for ways to circumvent his Father's wishes, finding ways that he and Tomas could sneak off so that they did not have to be Master and Slave but simply two children. Not that it ever really happened, they were never quite alone enough, and there were always chores to be done.

He mulled over that for a moment, and in that time a question was sent his way. Of course, he shuffled further into the booth in response so that the man could sit with him, and slid his glass across the table to get it out of his face.

"Of course, there'll always be a seat at my table for you. You know that."

This was the man who had freed him, sent him away from Hutt Space and allowed him to carve his own path. If not for him, he'd likely be dead. Those mines... they were brutal. And Lord Meriet seemed to have it out for Tomas especially. Something about teaching his son a lesson, as though people were little more than livestock or possessions to throw away when they were no longer useful, or inconvenient.

Crix's response to Tom's own question was... perplexing. Had he finally plucked up the courage to leave home himself? Gotten out from under his Father's thumb? Good... Freedom looked good on Crix as much as it felt good for Tomas.

"Looking for any place in particular?" he asked, while still processing it all; in truth he wanted nothing more than to suggest the man return with him back to Coruscant, but decided that maybe that was a touch too forward. It had been a great many years, after all, and for all he knew Crix didn't want to be around him any more than he had to.

"I'm well, aye; not here to stay really, just finishing up a job then I'll be back on my way. You're on the upper floors, I take it?"

What was asked next was said in jest, school yard banter, but the response it brokered from Tomas was nothing short of serious - nay, sincere. As much as he'd been sincere of it in youth, though Crix had never truly believed him when he said it.

"I haven't returned home yet, no; my family have lasted this long without me, and I don't know if I can face them after all these years. Besides, the throne is my brother's future seat, not mine."

Not that Tomas had ever cared for such things anyway.

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

Crix had a funny sort of relationship with his titles. As a child they had been ill fitting and jarring like miss sized shoes, then after Toby’s torture he had returned to them with more appreciation they were tools through which he could make his enemies fear him and leave him alone. Nowadays though they were beyond ill fitting, Crix was ashamed of them , sickened by what they said about him. There was very little good he could identify in his life beyond the way he treated Tom and Toby and even then all his good deeds had selfish motives driving them. He was kind to Tomas because he was lonely and in need of a friend who would not beat him in their games. The worst part was that deep down Crix liked the people in his life pliant and obedient to his whim.

When the seat was offered Crix sat down gratefully, though there was space to he didn’t sit all that close to Tom. He still didn’t know whether he was making his old sidekick uncomfortable. After all Crix and Tom had know each other under vile circumstances.

A pleased smile met Tom’s affirmation that Crix would always have a place at his table, even at his most Servile Tom never lied so Crix was reassured that he was truly considered a friend. “And you as well My friend, though I do not think I have a table you would want to sit at”

He looked down then and caught sight of the scars on Tom’s wrists flourished M’s in a ring of chains , beneath the M’s a symbol sat , Tom bore two one for each wrist, on his right a cup symbolising him as a house slave. On his left the brand bore a skull , the mark of death on the estate denoting that Tom had been sent to the spice mines. Crix still remembered the day Tom got that brand, the horror of watching Tom dragged away , the sound of his screams as the hot metal pressed into his flesh , the whisperings of pain as chains were fixed over the still sizzling flesh before he was dragged away never to be seen again. It had been Crix’s fault.

Decades old guilt twisted in his stomach, thankfully he could distract himself somewhat by answering Tom’s question. A drag back to the present. A present in which father was dead and Tom was not.

What was he looking for ? Now that was a question. “Somewhere that doesn’t have slaves ... somewhere safe and quiet where I can find some measure of peace” he answered knowing of course that where ever he went he’d pull the demons of his past along with him. “A nice view and good carpets would be nice too “ he tacked on with a small barely true smile. Staying with Tom would be nice but he would never ask that Tom had spent too many years waiting on Crix.

“That is a relief to hear , I worried I had traded you one death sentence for another ... “ he stopped for a second then “erm yes , I have a room at the top for a night join me there are plenty of bedrooms... all fit for a prince”

Crix had not expected that Tom would still cling to his old tale. Tom had often sat at Crix’s bedside coaxing him to sleep with stories of his home and title. He had thought them no more than the fantasy they appeared to be. The escape of a boy who owned nothing not even his own body.

Yet there was such sincerity in his tone ... could it be that he had once had a prince kneeling to him. It was too much to think on.

“I think they would want to see you again , you have nothing to be ashamed of you are a survivor and so brave “ he gushed saying nothing on the topic of Tom’s pedigree.

“It’s a little loud in here ... will you come back to my suite with me ? “ he asked nervously.

 

[Lief]

Tomas watched as the other man's gaze fell upon the decade old scars upon his wrist, and he could practically see the cogs turning in his mind as he recalled all that had happened to put them there. Slowly yet purposefully he slid the sleeves of his jacket down to cover them up, and then reached out one hand to very lightly take Crix's. Truth be told it was a rather odd show of affection from a man who usually forsake such, at least outside of the bedroom, but he felt as though it was necessary. Natural, even.

"Hey, don't think about then" he said, trying his best to sooth away the pain of those years not only for Crix but for himself. It didn't need to be dragged up, after all... It had been a lifetime ago, now.

An answer finally came, and that brought a genuine smile to his face. He lifted his glass, took a small sip, and then nodded his head in agreement.

"Aye, that would be nice wouldn't it? Well, I don't have a view to speak of, and the carpets are a little old, but... You know you'll always have a place to stay safe with me, Crix. Just say the word, and you can come back with me to Coruscant, at least until you find your feet and get that cushy palace you deserve."

In the moments which followed, Tomas couldn't help but wonder just how much Crix believed his heritage. There was still some small measure of jest in his tone when he spoke of it, the way there had been back when they were children. Was it best to let him think that it was simply a childish game? What would happen if the truth truly did surface?

"It's not that," he finally said, when talk turned to his family, "but what if they already put me to rest? Believed me dead? What good would dragging it all back up do? And... well... I'm not exactly prime son material. I'd rather them remember me as the happy child I was, than be confronted with, well..." He let the rest of that statement hang on the wind, and ran a hand up through his hair with a heavy sigh.

They wouldn't want a broken man. Sometimes it was better to let people live with their memories.

Thankfully Crix didn't give him too long to ponder on it, to be sucked into the darkness which oft' overcame him when he thought on such subjects. An offer was placed on the table, and he considered it for a few seconds. The Rodian had his work comm... And, well, a penthouse suite would be a place to relax as intended. Rather sheepishly he nodded.

"Alright, 'til my ship's ready I'll join you." After that? Well... He supposed that would depend on how things went. The pair of them had been close once, as close as a slave could be with their Master's son, but time might have changed them. Besides, the offer of Crix returning with him to Coruscant remained genuine, remained on the table, so who knew what would happen.

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

Those red lines were burned into Crix's mind as much as they were into Tom's wrists. Well prehaps not quite as much but still ... the sight of them brought back painful memories for him. Prehaps it was all the worse for Tom. That just made him feel all the more tortured. It killed him to think of Tomas in so much pain. It was only the pulling of Tom's sleeves that broke his gaze and then finally the touch of Tom's hand freed him for the hellish memories. Holding Tom's hand brought a smile, he ran a thumb over the back of Tom's hand. They still bore the marks of hard work.

"You are free now " He replied as Tom bid him not to think back on their time as master and slave. Tom comforting him brought back more pleasant memories, they had held hands many times sometimes through cage bars but the most recent time had been the night he had freed Tom, his hands had been cold in the older mans as they'd said good bye.

"That would be wonderful" He smiled softly, dreaming of holding Tom's hand somewhere more beutiful. Prehaps barefoot on a beach or by the fire in a mountain lodge. "I can buy us a view and nice carpets" he added "My brother pays very well for me not to be seen or heard from" He said with a small smirk an attempt to hide how disarmed he was by Tom's generosity "Though there will always be a veiw with you around, I would love to see how the other half lives" It was his way of saying yes to staying with Tom.

Crix had always thought Tom was playing a game with the whole prince thing but seeing him stuck to his guns on the matter even now , Crix was begining to doubt his childhood doubts. Though of course Tom might still have been jesting. He'd ask directly later in a moment when he knew there would be no jesting. Ofcourse finding that it was not a jest would be a bitter pill to swollow. More strain on Crix's concience.

"The choice is yours old freind " Crix said and it was, Crix knew better than anyone that family could be complicated "But should it not be their choice whether they treat you as dead when you are not, I don't think the son they knew is dead though , he just needs some nursing and support" Crix squeezed his former slaves hand then. "I can help you whatever you choose, if you like " He said as Tom let his sentiment hang in the air.

"Deal " Crix smiled as his request to take Tom agreed to return to his penthouse with him. Crix got to his feet first still holding Tomas's hand and downing his drink with the other then helping Tom to his feet. He hoped this night could be the begining of him and Tom getting close again. Crix needed an anchor and Tom had always been good at that. Easing Crix's troubled mind and making him feel safe.

The penthouse itself was as well put together as one would expect, soft carpets in blistering white and surfaces so shiny you could see into your own soul. Crix let go of Tom's hand when they were through the door and took off his shoes. "Make yourself comfortable my freind , would you like a drink ?" He asked pouring himself a drink.

 

[Lief]

Tomas took the time to slowly drain the glass of the bloody rancor, and then placed down a small credit chip which would close out the tab while also leaving a tip. He wasn't exactly made of money, but little things like that were well worth it to him especially knowing how some of the workers here lived. Coruscant had changed him in many ways, but so too had his time with the Meriets. Apparently misfortune, whether his own or others, had a tendency of following him.

He hadn't expected the man to agree, though the timid smile his response produced spoke of his genuine happiness that he had. Live in the underbelly of Coruscant wasn't everyone's cup of tea, it had even taken Tomas quite some time to adjust, but at least he'd have a place to rest his head, to unwind, to call home. Tom knew how it was to have nowhere to come back to, to be perpetually in motion, he hoped that it would prove enough for Crix. At least until he could procure more... suitable lodgings for a man of his stature.

Nothing more was said of home in the aftermath of Crix's statement, apparently it wasn't something he was ready to confront just yet. He was happy to leave it where it was and focus on the present, so with that he rose up from his seat and followed after the other man as he led him up to the higher levels of The Wheel, far from where his ship was housed. His hand remained gently placed within Crix's for the entirety of their journey, though the turbolift made quick work of that, and soon enough they were stood within the entry of the penthouse suite.

Tomas leaned down to remove his shoes, conscious of how pristine the carpets were, and then he finally stepped over the threshold. His feet were elevated to a near heavenly status with how plush the ground beneath him was, and without much thought he let out a slow, yet appreciative sigh of relief. It was good to be out of those boots, that much was for sure, they weren't the best quality and such things messed with your back.

"Quite the place you got here," he finally said, as they ventured further into the suite where more of the apartment was made obvious to him. He'd been in similar places before, of course, but usually as a hireling. Unable to touch, treading carefully... Most didn't like it if you made a mess, after all, and Tomas knew he didn't have the credits to pay for even one item in their not-so-humble abodes.

He waited for Crix, and then slowly sank down into one of the armchairs by the large window which offered them a view of the vast void they were suspended within.

Humbling as ever.

[member="Crix Meriet"]

 

[Crix Meriet]

With their drinks drank it was time to go and not a secound too soon. Finding Tom again had changed his desires. He just wanted to be alone with the other man now. To return atleast in some ways to the companionship of his past. To feel safe and comfortable at Tom's side. At first Crix left no tip, in his excitment to get back to privacy he rather forgot the conditions the workers faced. Ofcourse seeing Tom pay over the odds for his drink sparked Crix to throw some credits down "Put your money away Tomas"

Crix had no place to go, he was drifting and he wanted roots. There were worse places to put down some roots than next to Tom. Even if it did mean spending a few days in less than ideal circumstances. Ofcourse Crix would not allow him and Tom to live in sqaulor for any longer than needed. He had the money to see that they could live somewhere habitable even if Tom did not. He wanted to pay Tom back in some way for his years of leal service, It was the least he could do for the other man esspecially since he was offering Crix a chance to stop drifting.

Talk of the past was left in the bar, atleast for now. Crix was fine with that , he didn't want to dwell on the dark of his past anymore than Tom did. Infact he wasn't that inclined to say anything on the route up. He was just focused on the feel of a hand in his. He had missed the feeling of security that gave. Tom's hand was warm and gentle in his, it was almost dream like to be so close to his once lost freind. A dream he had no desire to awaken from, ever. Maybe he wouldn't need to if Tom really was happy to host him.

Crix hovered near Tom as he removed his boots at the threashold, smiling slightly as Tom let out a slow sigh of relif and it was no suprise. Toms boots did not look to be the most well made and comfortable pair , though Crix supposed even they would be better than what Tom had had as a slave ... or not had as was prehaps more appropriate. When Tom was done Crix gestured him toward the lounge area it was time they got comfortable.

"It's not bad is it my freind?" He replied filled with mirth. He had to admit it was nice. Not a patch on home ofcourse but then no hotel could ever be as good as a place you designed for yourself. Though ofcourse it was probably a great place compared to anywhere Tom could afford. Prehaps it might even be enough to convince Tom to stay the night instead of taking off right away. One night in peace was not too much to ask was it.

While Soren ventured over to a chair to sink down and relax, Crix set to pouring them more to drink. With two glasses in hand he moved over to Tom, placing one on the table beside Tom he looked over his old freind "You look worn out" He noted running a free hand through Soren's hair "Why not stay the night? We could get people in to serve you for a change ... and me too ofcourse"