Onarax — Roleplayer Guild

Kiran Ali Khan

"Didn't we just have a discussion on collateral Taidan?" Came the answer from KNVS' leader, as the young Hunter surveyed the area around him. Not having signal was mildly troublesome, mostly from a communications standpoint, but for Kiran it had minimal impact on his overall performance. After all, what kind of Hunter couldn't even track down his prey? The broodling paths were the obvious indicator that they were close, and where those paths met was where they would find the nest. It brought to Kiran's mind an old saying from his village, When spider webs unite, they can tie up a lion.

Now it was time to test its validity. 

"Alright," Kiran began, as he turned to face the rest of his team and give them his decision, "while normally I'd opt for a quick and efficient attack. After all the sooner we finish, the sooner we get to play smash. But, today we have the honour of illustrating to Miss Noelle how Beacon's finest accomplish their missions." Kiran explained, as he gestured to Noelle, "In addition I wish to allow for our new teammate to better assess our abilities to determine where she might fit in on the team. As such I suggest that until we reach the nest, Varius, Taidan and myself shall alternate between taking point on the assault. This way, while we face relatively weaker Grimm, Miss Noelle will able to assess each of us on our individual merit to understand how she might assist them on future missions. The rest of us will merely provide the point guard with support in the event of an enemy getting too close."

"However," this time the swordsman's tone carried a weight his earlier remarks lacked, "should we encounter more dangerous enemies, I want whoever is on point to pull back and allow us to take down the foe as a team. After all there is little merit in being reckless or overconfident. With that understood, who wishes to showcase their skills first?"

Half finished junk thrown up probably way too late but here it is. 

Music

Ambience

“So, you’re off to Haven.”

“Yeah.”

“Leaving me alone with dear old dad?”

“I know, the smell is going to wreak havoc on your nostrils.” 

The older boy’s response and cheeky grin was met with an exuberant laugh from the younger child. Which of course, just meant the older boy felt compelled to supply his own laugh as backing. Laughter was contagious after all, that was one of the first things the younger child had taught the older boy. Even now, as the two sat upon the rooftop of the old granary, watching the sunset together for what might very well be the last time, laughter bound the two brothers together. 

“I suppose I have myself to blame for that,” the younger affirmed, in his typical dry voice, “teaching you to dodge all your problems with a joke.” 

“You were the one who told me to keep joking no matter what. I’ve gotta thank you for all the time you put into making me an idiot.”

“It was my pleasure Oli.”

“Man, again with that stupid nickname. Do you have any idea how grateful I am it hasn’t spread?”

“Well, It’s not like you’ve ever asked me stop using it.”

“Yeah, I suppose I haven’t.” 

Apart from a brief chuckle, both brothers once more drifted into an amicable silence. Neither one quite sure how to proceed with the conversation. A life time of witticisms and hidden emotions has a bad habit of creating such an effect. Or as older boy might have stated, the two were being punished for all their terrible puns. 

So instead of talking, the two simply took advantage of the movement, and watched as orange faded to red which soon found itself replaced by a pale yellow. A shade rather similar to the mess the older boy called his hair. It was likely the same shade his brother would have sported, if not for the shiny bald head that was currently reflecting the sunlight. 

In the absence of words, nature filled a void, an ambience produced by all the instruments in earth’s orchestra. There was the rippling ambience from the flowing river the two boys often used as shelter from hot summer days and burning tempers. Many days it was hard to tell which was worse. There was also the lively harmony of birds singing their last song before the long night. While in their place, a symphony of crickets began their evening serenade. And just like a great conductor, the gentle breeze brought everything together, turning chaos into music. 

Yet no matter how gentle a harmony, it was incomplete without the melody. 

“Hey Oli. Are you excited? About Haven that is.”

“I guess so.”

“That’s good.”

“Look, if—" the older boy began, only to find his words interrupted by the raised hands of the younger. 

“Oli, I know what you’re gonna say, so stay quiet for a moment,” the boy had a large grin upon his face, his eyes beaming with a pride rarely seen. “You’re about to spew out some grand plan. If I were to guess, it’d be about how you’re going to let Haven know you’ll attend next year. That way you can wait a year so I can go to Sanctum at the same time you end up in Haven. Am I right so far?”

“I mean well, uh—"

The younger boy’s smile widened even more, as he directed his gaze directly at his brother. The next few words were thrown straight at him, allowing no room for misunderstandings. “Hell, knowing you, you’ll work your ass off this year. And what for? Just so I can afford some decent weapons, cause you’re well aware dad would never put forth a single coin.”

The elder boy opened his mouth, but found that there existed no words he could use to dispel the assumptions. 

“But, Oli, you know, as wonderful as that might be. I think we’re both well aware that it won’t solve anything. If anything, things will probably grow more difficult.”

“I’m sure we’ll figure something out.”

“Maybe, maybe not. But I know at the end of the day, you’ll be miserable.”

“That’s not impo-"

“What did I say about being quiet? That mouth of yours really can be annoying. Just let me have this one alright? For once in your life, I’d like to avoid being the load.” There was a weight to his words that seemed to bring down the very air around them. It was as though suddenly they were all engulfed by the very feeling of exhaustion that was laying claim to the birds as they finished their songs. It was an inexplicable burden that brought forth another bout of silence. 

“I give up,” were the words from the older boy that broke the silence, “you’ve got me figured out and beat. Well, almost. You’re wrong about one thing.” The boy contested, as his eyes glanced back out towards the setting sun. 

“What might that be?”

“You’ve never been the load, if anything, you’re the only reason I’ve made it this far.”

“What,” the other boy snickered, “is that one of those cheesy lines you read in a ‘How to be a Good Brother Guide.'”

“Hey! It’s not my fault, you’re always acting like the big brother, so I had to get advice from somewhere.”

Laughter was one more the common response, as the two leaned back upon the rooftop, legs left dangling over the edge. It was to expected then, when the older brother took advantage of the situation to, as any good brother would, punch the younger in the shoulder. A gentle tradition passed down through the ages. 

The younger, of course, responded in kind. 

After yet another moment of blissful silence, the younger once more took the opportunity to speak. 

“Hey Oli, did you really mean what you said?”

“What? You mean the whole big brother thing?”

“Well that and your token line.”

This brought a large grin to the older brother’s face, as he stood up to address his younger blood relation. 

“Of course I do Signor Al, you are after all the one and only Albano Fiordilatte. The bald demon and thorn in the side of every evil Fiordilatte patron this side of the Remnant.” The elder finished with a flourish, his arms spreading in the vein of great magicians or even greater TV salesmen. Indeed, Milly Bays and Cavid Dopperfield would have been proud of the boy’s performance. 

Yet his younger brother could merely respond with a quiet “Thanks,” as his smile turned downcast. This did not however go unheeded for, like any good big brother, the elder’s sadness alarms instantly went off. For it was clear that something had deeply soured the already melancholic mood of his younger brother, and that was not acceptable. So the potential reasons rapidly filtered themselves through the older brother’s mind. Perhaps his impression had been distasteful? Maybe there was something in his teeth? Or better yet, maybe his bald comment was insensitive? 

But of course, like any good brother, the elder had but a single logical response. “Oh come on, what’s wrong now?”

“It’s nothing.” Was the abrupt answer the older brother found himself working with. 

“Come on Al. Aren’t you the guy constantly telling me keep my head up and laugh at life’s misfortunes. I mean if it weren’t for you I’d probably have tried to stab dad ten times over by now.”

“It’d be at least one hundred times.”

“That’s not the point.”

“Really? But I thought knives were pointy.”

“Wow. That was almost as bad as the puns I make.”

“Appears I’m regressing.”

“What? Does that mean you’re gonna start crying like a baby now?”

“Don’t you feel as though you’re milking the joke?”

“Nah, I’m just raising the steaks.”

“That’s not even amoosing.”

“I feel like you’re just farming these jokes now.”

“God you’re corny.”

An exasperated sigh quickly turned to laughter as the absurdity of the situation caught up with the brothers. 

“You know Oli,” the younger began, “We’re really quite terrible at this whole bonding thing.”

“I guess we’re easily distracted, one of the few things we learned from father.”

“Yeah…” Once more the younger brother’s voice began to trail, and his eyes slowly turned downwards.
 
“Oh come on. I just got you laughing.” There was a pause, as the elder brother sighed and looked for his next words. His eyes found themselves darting up to look at the sky, as if the manual to being a big brother was written in the clouds. Yet such solace did not come, and the older brother was forced to revert back to the basics. 

“Y’know,” he began, no longer caring for the whole sentence, but just going one word at a time, “I was serious about what I said. What with the whole big bro joke and you being what kept me going. I mean, well, uh, shit.” Once more he found himself at a loss for words. Jokes? Those were easy. But actual conversation? Being honest with others? Now that was the hard part. This whole big brother thing had never come easy. 

“Look, what I’m trying to say is well that the fact that you’ve always been able to smile and joke. Well, that’s what lets me… I mean come on, next to you even my problems seem small,” his hand was once more in its token position of scratching the back of his head as though that would unlock the answers, “I mean, anyone in your position, uh- shit that came out wrong. I just mean that you have every right to feel depressed and well somehow you don’t.” 

Now he knew exactly what to say, and the pride behind his next words, was something only a brother could experience.
 
“You keep fighting.”

A faint smile crossed the younger’s lips. 

“Al, I guess that why, when you first told me to always smile, I kind of had to y’know. I mean what kind of older brother let’s his younger brother carry all the burdens.” Palm met face however, as the older brother realized the idiocy of his comments. “Crap, I was trying to cheer you up and now I’m saying it’s okay to cry—not that it isn’t okay to cry and well—man I’m really bad at this aren’t I.”

“Just digging yourself deeper,” the younger chuckled.

“I bet there were a lot of holes in my argument?”

“Are you really going to start this up again?” The younger asked with the raising of a single eyebrow. 

“Reading the moods not really one of my strong suits.”

“So I’ve noticed. But Oli?”

“Yeah?”

“Never change.”

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