[center][hr][hr][h3][color=forestgreen][b]FLETCHER O’SULLIVAN[/b][/color] & [color=thistle][b]CHARLES MARKOV[/b][/color][/h3][hr][hr]
[img]https://media.giphy.com/media/gS7EVwynp6Q4U/giphy.gif[/img]
[sub]collab with the flightless-angel-castiel & foxygen[/sub]
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Charlie was only recently informed of his elven ancestry, and really, it was something he'd abused ever since discovering it. While most preferred to keep things like this secret, he went around flaunting his abilities (though most humans just thought it coincidental). Only seven years after his discovery did he find someone else who was similar, a [i]light elf[/i] - of which he saw no difference, but whatever - and adopted the poor kid under his wing. His apartment, cheap and basically in shambles, was picked up pretty quickly by the ever-so-touchy Fletcher O'Sullivan. That was about the only good Fletch had ever done him, in his pessimistic mind: cleaning up the place. Still. When Charlie was eighteen he'd learned about something like an 'alliance' was in the makings, and put off actually going until now because pfft, no way there was anyone else like him. Fletch was kind of the straw on the camel's back.

And here he was, practically dragging the light elf off to the first meeting. He’d only woken the poor sap up about five minutes ago, and already he was pointed toward the door ‘cause apparently all Charlie’s morning routine was went like this: tug a cleaner shirt on, grab a slice of toast and Red Bull, move along. He’d done just that. [color=thistle][b]”SULLY! You ready? Pretty sure we’re late.”[/b][/color] Charlie paused, realising the harshness in his tone might not go over too well, and shot a look around the room like he was just waiting for the younger elf to come darting out. Pretty typical of Fletch to show off his ridiculous agility, especially around Charlie. [color=thistle][b]”...and make sure you get, like, one of my jackets, ‘cause it’s fuckin’ forty degrees or whatever.”[/b][/color] When his voice went low, his stereotypical Chicago came out, and immediately he arched an eyebrow expectantly. Fletch might pick up on that and tease him, that lil’ twink. In preparation to give him a noogie or jump him in some other way, Charlie pressed against the front door, hands turning to fists at his side.

Fletcher hated waking up indoors. He hated the blinds Charlie insisted on keeping over the windows, not allowing any sun to stream into the little rooms of the apartment. The artificial lights of the apartment always bothered the light elf, even after nearly three years. He hadn’t learned everything of the human world from Charlie - TV helped a lot too. So, his morning routine was a little longer, since he came to really like the minty taste left in his mouth after brushing his teeth, or how clean his skin felt after washing his face. He used streams as his source of water for everything back in the forest. Showers were on the top of his most amazing things about the human world. While Charlie had gotten him clothes of his own, he still went into the older elf’s closet; for some reason, he liked the feel of Charlie’s clothes better than his own. He cringed when he heard Charlie and rolled his eyes as he finished shoving his feet into his tennis shoes. He still hated that constricting feeling on his feet. If the dark elf hadn’t mentioned getting a jacket then, maybe, Fletch would have done something to piss him off. But, instead, a grin broke out across his face as he opened the hall closet to get one of Charlie’s jacket. As he slipped it over his arms, shrugging it onto his shoulders, he caught the smell of Charlie clinging to it.

“[color=forestgreen]Aw, you care so much, Char.[/color]” he said, tone teasing, as he came up to him. He took a short pause, eyes cutting to the left briefly as he shuffled through the thoughts in his mind. “[color=forestgreen]We’re late ‘cause of you and it’s kind of hard to leave with you just leaning against the door.[/color]” he pointed out, crossing his arms and giving Charlie a shit-eating grin. Charlie responded with a sneer, bobbing his head for emphasis, before stepping aside and mock-politely opening the door. [color=thistle][b]”Chivalry’s not dead.”[/b][/color] He acted like he was waiting for Fletcher to go first, before quickly stepping through at the last moment, laughing wholeheartedly over his shoulder. He darted down the hall, prompting Fletcher to race him, and obviously lost their little race. Nevertheless, he flagged down a taxi (after reminding Fletch what exactly taxis were), and they made it to a strangely desert shopping square.

The same flyer he had tucked away in his pocket was up on one particular store, so Charlie gestured for the light elf to follow before sauntering over curiously. They were in, jingling the bell over the door, just in time to catch one of the folders being passed around. [color=thistle][b]”Fuckin’ vampires,”[/b][/color] he breathed incredulously to Fletcher, although admittedly the dark elf may have been a bit too loud. Hastily, Charlie surveyed the rather underwhelming group, and realised exactly how late they were for the first time. [color=thistle][b]”Oh shit, y’all already do intros? I’m Charlie, this kid here’s Fletcher. We’re, uh, [i]elves.[/i]”[/b][/color] He placed a heavy hand over Fletcher’s chest, half-shoving him, when he said his name; and, of course, Charlie was still iffy on calling himself an elf. Jesus, of all things. He furrowed his brow, flipping through the folders, but he wasn’t exactly one for reading. [color=thistle][b]”What are we doin’, fucking up some vamps? Listen, you don’t need garlic and a stake, just [i]these…[/i]”[/b][/color] Rather immaturely, Charlie stuck up his fists, dropping his folder in his lap.

Fletch wasn’t bothered that they were late to the little gathering. He took in each person after getting a folder, and opened it up to stare down at it. At Charlie’s quiet words, he glanced over at him with a small, agreeing nod. His eyes didn’t even leave the folder when Charlie half-shoved him. Instead, his elbow shot out, catching him in the side in a hard nudge, flipping to the next page, brain taking in the pages and committing them to memory for him to not forget. However, his eyes finally looked up at Charlie’s behavior, and his eyes narrowed just the slightest. “[color=forestgreen]Don’t be an idiot, Charlie.[/color]” he said, voice matter-of-fact and not harsh or angry in the least, before glancing towards the others. He took a short pause. “[color=forestgreen]Everyone ignore Charlie, he thinks he’s a badass or something.[/color]” he said, tone casual now, as he slapped the folder shut.