[center][img=http://i.dailymail.co.uk/i/pix/2013/11/11/article-2499953-1957974F00000578-222_306x485.jpg][/center] [center][i]“You want more-- you’re not very smart, are you?”[/i][/center] Name: Ulrich Vey O’Shalna Age: 19 Race/Faction/Abilities: Faerie / Monarch of Ulrich / Will-‘O-Wisp Personality/Occupation: He’s usually the type to chew toothpicks and rag all day about “techies should appreciate…” this and “there’s going to come a day when…” that. Vain, curios, petulant, and clever… very clever… His redeeming qualities are perhaps his fierce loyalty. To Avan. To his subjects. Even his brother [though he openly disagrees, as brothers often do]. All of this has been changing recently due to his recent participation in drug use. Now they say he’s become paranoid, and secretive, and obsessive—this all according to Drizzy X's Monday blog post about it. Background: Four years prior: Two meaty patties on two toasted, wheat buns. One red tomato slice, and three crinkled pickles. A beautiful green leaf of lettuce and two dabs of condiments: mustard and “Fancy” ketchup. The best part of all was a tall blue frosted glass that sat glimmering in the sunlight between them. It was filled to the very brim with sweet, brown cola and three giant floating dollops of vanilla ice cream. “Go on. Just a little—it tastes like heaven” Helen’s lips formed a large ‘O’ as she slowly inched her pinky towards his face; she had dipped it into the ice cream and cola and it was starting to melt down between the columns of her fingers. He eyed the digit, focusing his imagination and hoping, just hoping that if he denied her long enough that this iced-cream would melt down into her palm. Down her wrist and arm and then elsewhere… She frowned, and then to his disappointment she lowered the hand and folded it into a napkin, “I don’t get it. This is the best place in town, you can’t have anything here?” He shook his head, leaning backwards into the cracked leather booth, eyeing her with a sort of wary look, “that stuff’s poison,” he folded both hands under the table between them. “Sure, it is to everyone” she grinned and dunked another finger—this time the middle one, on to the side of her plate and into some neon red ketchup. “What can I say? We all gotta’ go sometime—hey!” He hadn’t even thought about it, his hand closed around her forearm and pulled until he was able to reach his lips around the base of her finger. All at once: Tomato concentrate from red ripe tomatoes, distilled vinegar, high fructose corn syrup, corn syrup, water, salt, and lastly tomato... no, not tomato… more chemicals… It was awful. Wonderful. And horrible. He’ll be sick later. His expression was bunched and the skin around his freckles bloomed red and inflamed. “Okay, you’ve made your point—can I have my hand back?” her voice was high pitched and tremulous, he smiled weakly at her, feeling a bit green. “Anything that isn’t coming straight from Gaia herself…” he paused, noticing for the first time, the massive shadow that had cast itself on the surface of the table between them. “Hey look who it is, it’s Dami--” but before anything else, he wretched. Hard. “I’m gonna’ go and see if they can send someone here to clean this up” suggested Helen, a bit too keenly. Slipping out of the booth she pranced her way between tables, leaving the two brothers in foul smelling air. Ulrich waited until she was out of earshot, “Nice girl, you got there… Hey, weren’t you supposed to be busy today?” “You think you’re funny don’t you?” Damien said darkly, “The tiger exhibit—really? Do you hate me that much?” “I thought you liked the Zoo” “You locked me in a cage. With tigers. Real tigers. For three days.” Damien's face drew within inches from his own, Ulrich watched from the corner of his eye how the veins in his forearms rolled and wondered how long before the table would snap under pressure, “And then I manage to escape, only to find you here?” Ulrich leaned away and reaches for his glass of spring water. Sipping slowly, “Three days?” he mused quietly, “I knew I must’ve forgotten something… How was it?” “No clothes. You left me at Central Zoo, naked. In a cage.” “It’s the only way you’d have learned,” to his own surprise, Ulrich finds himself suddenly annoyed, he sets down his glass and stands, squaring his shoulders, “I get that you’ve only been at this a few months. But your little talent isn’t exactly the safest one out there-- did it ever occur to you that me leaving you back there just saved you years of practice?” being only fifteen, he was less than half Damien’s size in total, “Look, Avan put me in charge of showing you the ropes because he’s nice. He thinks you’ve got what it takes to set an example for our people.” He pauses and then adds quietly, “But personally, bro? I don’t see it.” “Hey, I’ve got the check up there waiting for us—hey what’s wrong?” Helen’s gaze shifts between the two of them, frowning she comes to rest an arm around Damien’s waist. “Nothing” he, snaps. He’s annoyed with her too because he realizes, that she was also taller than him, “I was just leaving—we’ll do this another time, love. Leave the tip for me?” after plunking down a larger bill between the food and his plate of vomit, he strides quickly past them. “Is he going to be alright?” when Damien didn’t answer her she added “he came around my place worried about you, y’know…I think he really looks up to you--” “Let's go for a movie.” “You hate movies” Helen frowns, “Damien—hey look at me. Look.” She took his face between both hands. Forcing him to look her in the eye “He’s just a kid. He’ll come around eventually.” It took quite some months until Helen's words would ring true. Ulrich's height shot up one summer-- he was an inch taller than Damien, longer but still lacking in bulk--- perhaps that factored in to his sudden change in attitude. Or perhaps it was Avan's influence after all. Nagging like a old women, practice after practice about 'teamwork'. Forcing them to work together.