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Post by cho2 on Jan 27, 2009 1:28:45 GMT -6
"What do you want me to say?" Tore asked a little bitterly. "That I'd give up anything...everything? I already have! I have nothing! I have nothing to give up. That is your answer. I already gave it all up when I left my home instead of staying in the relative saftey of my community. What do I have to give up? My name? It's nothing but a few words given to identify myself. My life? What life is this? I lie about my age and my identity for a little while until someone takes notice and calls my boss out because if my boss doesn't realize by now I'm not twenty-one it will be found out soon enough. My freedom? I live watching my back. I have no freedom."
Tore shook his head and seemed to remember that he still had his burger. He suddenly wasn't hungry anymore. He couldn't bring himself ot throw it away though. He knew what is was like to go hungry now and it might be good for later if he could bring himself to eat again. "I don't think I have anything to give up," Tore said staring the man straight in the eyes. "So what's the point of your question?"
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Post by thorn on Jan 27, 2009 1:42:54 GMT -6
“One more question, then. Why did you leave home? Why leave that ‘relative safety’ in your community? Did they beat you, abuse you? Why did you go?”
The answer would determine, in Thorn’s mind, what he would offer to help this kid. There was little that he, alone, could do for the boy, and yet maybe more than anyone would suspect. He hoped so. He would be, in a way, outing himself as other than he normally appeared, and that was dangerous. But maybe there was a way to make it work for this brash, angry, miserable young man.
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Post by cho2 on Jan 28, 2009 1:36:17 GMT -6
"Yes," Tore scoffed sarcastically. "Because I would live almost seventeen years in a place where they abused me even though I knew that that wasn't how life is supposed to be. No, they never mistreated me. I could be considered part of the royal family in some ways. I'm one of the last people they would attack." Tore shook his head.
"I left because I had to. Or at least...I believe that I had to. I can't quite describe it. I just...in part it was because I never belonged. I never could. My father was cursed. That's the only reason he's even a were in the first place. He married my mother who was born a swan and so he has a place. Even through all his bitterness and hate...he has a special place wher ehe can always belong amongst them no matter what he does. Me...I was just their child. The focus of my father's...determined rage. He taught me to fight. To defend myself. To hate what I was. My mother of course taught me that there were things that were not so bad. I was torn. I am torn. When my wings were broken...that was the last straw. I left as soon as I was healed enough. I coudn't belong there anymore."
Tore tried to find a wall to put his back to suddenly feeling uncomfortable and unsure being so open. "It doen'st matter. I don't expect you to understand anyway. Things are the way they are."
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Post by thorn on Jan 28, 2009 21:21:06 GMT -6
Thorn listened in silence, then sighed as Tore moved to protect his back. “Relax, Tore. No one’s going to hurt you while I’m here. I mean that.” He thought a moment, then seemed to decide.
“I’ve got an answer of sort, for you, if you’ll hear me out. I’ll be coming into some extra money in,” and here he glanced at his watch,” about two hours. I can stake you for awhile. And, if you’re willing to wait until I can make a few connections here, I can find someone who’ll maybe take you in and protect you. Maybe a shifter group, maybe a vamp, I don’t know yet. But even in that world, money talks. I can make it well worth their while to keep you relatively safe.” He looked at Tore then. “Not all shifters will lose it just because you smell like prey. I’m still new at this, so it’s harder for me.”
He sipped his coffee again. “The big question is, do you trust me at all? And can you stifle that chip on your shoulder long enough to not make somebody want to eat you out of pure aggravation?”
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Post by cho2 on Jan 28, 2009 23:16:13 GMT -6
"Why?" Tore demanded out of instinct. "I'm not being rude...I honestly want to know. It doesn't make sense to me or anything I know. I know that I have a temper that rubs people the wrong way. Sometimes I can control it...other times I wonder why someone isn't shooting at me. Trust me, I know what kind of man that I am. If I need to...I can bite my tongue."
He didn't always like having to check himself, but he could do it. He just actually had to have the desire to. You could have a desire to do something even if you didn't want to do it. That was the equation of Tore and keeping his tongue. But could he accept this offer? He wanted saftely, security. He didn't mind the thought of it. That he could actually be safe from other weres. Could he accept this? "Is there anything I need to do...besides keep my temper?"
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Post by thorn on Jan 28, 2009 23:35:10 GMT -6
“Anything else you need to do? Yeah. Don’t tell anyone I’m the one staking you. Let ‘em think the money’s yours. You can pull that off; you act like you’re used to money. And maybe, if it’s a vamp I set this up with, you might need to become a donor for them. Vamps get off on shifter blood, not sure why. But I’ll make sure they’ll treat you right. And I can make the threat stick.”
He wasn’t going to approach Ranthos about taking the swan in. the wolves had enough trouble, and they were too few to be able to protect the kid fully. But there had to be someone, or some group, that could use the money he could funnel to them and who would treat the kid right. It would just take him awhile to find them.
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Post by cho2 on Jan 29, 2009 0:02:30 GMT -6
Tore smirked. "I already told you...I know how to keep my mouth shut. And I know when to as well. If I need to keep your name out of things, I'll do it. As for donating blood to vampires...well...it won't kill me. Besides, it's not like you're telling me to rip off my wings. As long as it's not that...or certain other lacks of liberties I can handle it. I'm used to the spectrem of work."
He had been born into a wealthy family. But he alaso knew how to work hard. How to earn his keep. He wans't afraid to do what needed to be done if it was required of him. "And...thank you," He had to force the words out, but it was difficult. "You didn't have to do this for me. You still don't have to. Most people wouldn't...so...yeah...thanks."
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Post by thorn on Jan 29, 2009 0:24:13 GMT -6
“Sure you’ll keep my name out of things, Tore. You don’t even know it. Nothing personal there. Lets just say I’m not myself today.”
He sipped at the coffee again, not because he wanted it but because it allowed him to keep his scanning of the area less obvious. “No thanks needed. I know I didn’t have to offer this. Then again, maybe I did. Not sure yet.” He shook his head, wondering himself why he’d done this. One of these days his annoying, nagging altruistic streak would end up getting him killed. Something would, that was sure. All a matter of when and where, right?
“Ok, I’m going to give you a cell phone number, but don’t call it, just text me. Give me a way to reach you. I’ll open an account at the bank in your name later today. Pick up the debit card when it’s ready and use that. No buying sports cars, though.” He grinned then and took an expensive pen and notebook from his inside suit pocket, scribbled a memorized number for one of the throwaway cell phones he had, and shoved the note to Tore.
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Post by cho2 on Jan 29, 2009 0:52:32 GMT -6
Tore took a deep breath and was able to keep himself from flipping off the man in front of him. He could control himself when he wanted to. He had just proved it. Tore took the number from the man and pocketed it with his wallet. He wouldn't forget it was there and it was in a place where someone would have to be beyond good to get it from him.
"There's only one way to get in touch with me," Tore confessed. Sure he had a mail box...but he didn't really check it. His landlord did and gave him anything he needed (bills, etc.). Tore knew that the man was probably stealing any money that he was getting in the mail, he didn't care. He didn't want the money anyway. Tore grabbed his wallet out and took out an old receipt out along with a free pen he had picked up and scribbled down the number of the track phone he had bought when he had come to Chicago and decided to stay.
"Call it, text it, doesn't matter to me. I'll answer it. And I don't plan on getting any sports cars. If I get a vehicle...it'll be either a truck or a motorcycle. Cars are too small for me."
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Post by thorn on Jan 29, 2009 1:22:34 GMT -6
He allowed himself the luxury of laughing at Tore then. “Cars are too small, eh? Right… You ever ride a motorcycle, kid? Not a good thing in Chicago in winter, trust me. Get a small used car. I’m not made of money, and I want most of it to go to keeping you safe.” He gave Tore a hard look then. “Don’t fight with me on this, Tore. I make a good friend, but a really lousy enemy.” He took the note with the phone number and tucked it in his inside pocket.
“Anything that comes up you think I need to know, text me. You get in trouble, lie low and let me know. And try, real hard, not to piss off any shifters.” Thorn glanced at his watch again. “OK, I need to roll here. I’ve got a meeting with a man who is gonna give me enough money to fund your needs for a few years, at least.” And then he grinned, his eyes shining in anticipation. Yeah, fleecing a mark always pleased him. Very little else ever did.
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