Divine Bastard: Chapter One.
Divine Bastard:
Chapter one:
Blood. The only blood spill was from the cut on the side of the angler face, that went from the corner of the cupid bow lips to the temple and from then from the hairline down to his jaw. Both was bleeding madly for the first few minutes. The boy was more concerned about the blood that was just free flowing from his abdomen. He held his hands against the wound as he looked down on the dark crimson staining the front of his shirt and pants. Then with wide terrified eyes, he looked around to see dark ash caught in the desert winds, just fluttering in the wind among the sands.
Fire, no lava was flowing through his veins as he stumbled around, unable to focus from the pain and the mixed vision of red and clear. Gawleri wanted his poppa, his mamma to cradle him and say it would be all right. Even though he was sixteen and by all standards but one a man. But right now, with panic and confusion clouding his mind, he needed his parents, Hell one of his elder sisters to hold him and just care him. He wasn’t even sure that he was on the right path to the large housing settlement that was the Cloudstormer’s compound. He just knew he had to walk in this direction before he bleed out all over the blue sands of Aeryon. He laughed with shrill and gasping breath at the thought of his red blood and the blue sand turning purple from the flowing drops from his wounds.
Then he fell to the sands, gasping and wincing and with one hand he dragged himself through the sands like a surfaced worm. He didn’t want to die, not in the sands, not like this. He flipped over onto his back, swallowing spit and air, tasting the copper metal taste of blood, his blood, and cried out, kicking at the blue sands. Gawleri pleaded out to the twin blazing suns, one blue and one yellow, to make the lava in his veins cool back down to blood. It was burning him alive. Sand blowing into his eyes as the winds picked up, making him tear up even more. He rolled back and forth, just falling back into child of six then a man of sixteen as he cries out for his mamma.
Sounds of sand crunching under heavy boots, he prayed it was boots. A dune-dragon or a sandworm was only too fucking much right now. He tilted his head back to see boots coming for him. His head began to get fuzzy as dried blood with sand stuck in it over his right eye made it hard to keep it open.
“Poppa? Poppa, oh it hurts!” He called out, reaching for his poppa with one hand still holding onto his stomach. Strong hands took it, cradled it, petting it while a strong voice saying it will be all right. Just close your eyes. “The lava hurts me!” A hand covered over his eyes as breathing was getting harder to remember to do.
Then the lava was suddenly cooled down. He smiled so gratefully before succumbing to sleep.
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Ten years later,
The air was cold, fake on his skin and in his lungs. Stall even though it was being recycled every 3 seconds through the vents of the station. Paradise was desert-born, used to open air and hot suns. Here is was cool to make all life forms comfortable and artificial light from over head. He already missed the sandstorms and roars of sand-worms, rather deal with them then with other humanoids and the many legged ones and the non-legged ones of the Union Starfleet. His old teacher was having a ball though as he glided all over the place, smiling and talking like his switch was stuck on hyper-speed. The old man was born on a water-planet and enjoyed company of many instead of a few or even one. Servi was only on Aeryon because of him, training him for years under the two suns before receiving a message from the Temple to go to the Union Station in the Magow system. Paradise was chosen to be the Magi resident on a Union ship called Aitheria.
He wasn’t pleased. He didn’t like ships or the idea of sail among the stars. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the shape of them. He had his left entire arm inked with colorful stars in many sizes. But he doesn’t like the idea of being frozen to death all the time and unable to walk out when he’s bored of being inside.
“Don’t you look like the Grim Reaper?” An annoyingly cocky voice brought the young Magi out his gloomy thoughts. He turned his head automatically to the right, shielding his right side against the soft material of the large hood. He had the hood up mostly to hide his scarred face, still feeling sensitive about it. His old teacher always laughed and chided him about hiding in his large brown-red robes and hood even in their home that they shared together like father and son.
“I’m Pater Cook.” The man smiled welcomingly, holding out a hand to Paradise. His hair was cut short but still long on the front and sides to have some flipped over his left eye and was dressed in Union gold and blue with a star and a stripe on his collar. A captian.
“Paradise.” He coldly responded and nodded his head, keeping his hands folded in the robe’s bell sleeves. He inwardly smiled at the pinched look on the light-cream face and awkward jerk of the hand as it was pulled back.
“Just Paradise? No last or first name, just Paradise?” He asked as he moved to stand in front of the Magi so he wouldn’t have to keep his head at an uncomfortable angle. To be polite even after getting a rude greeting. Paradise didn’t move his head just a single jade green eye to watch the captian before him.
“That’s right. Just Paradise. It is my Magi name therefore you may call me only by that.” He felt his neck cramping up but he didn’t want this…man see his scars and start asking questions about it. People before always wanted to know if he got them in a great fight and try to make him into some great Magi warrior when in reality, he only just reached Master status three months ago. Being chosen to be the Aitheria’s Magi was his first mission as a Master.
“Odd name for a Magi. Was hoping for something more… Mysterious like ummm…” The captian pondered with his hand on his chin. The Magi groaned internally and pulled his hand out the safety of the sleeves to rub at his now very sore and cramped neck. “I got it, Oooolander.” the fool even fluttered his fingers in the air as he ooo’ed before adding ‘lander’ to them.
He stared hard. Even forced his neck to turn straight to do so with both eyes. He always told him that Olander, with one ‘O’ was already taken but for some reason , the Magi didn’t want to add on to the man’s disillusions.
“Oh I bet that hurt.” Cook reached in close to rub his hand against the faded skin on the Magi’s cheek. Paradise quickly darted his head back, confused and disgusted that the brunet actually thought that touching was allowed. He held his hands up in the air in understanding surrender, taking a step back. Two to be sure. “Okay, but I know that had to hurt. It looks old too.” Acting like a child, Paradise hid more of his face under his chopped dark bangs and hair.
“Not really.” Now the one on his stomach and the burn scar on his back was painful but he wasn’t going to talk about that. Not with this man. EVER.
Like a savior, he heard Servi calling him and rudely just left the captian with not even a parting nod as he turned his back on him. The long robes bellowed around his calves as he walked with great indifference over to the pot-belly man who had his arm around a Maggowiense Union Admiral’s shoulder, laughing and rubbing his belly with his free hand. He was grateful to have a kind master and teacher but really, there is such as a thing as being too friendly with people.
“Don’t be eye-rolling me, you dune-worm.” The old man shook a plump finger at his now formal student before chuckling and pounding against his back, now turning his head back to the Admiral’s feather-head. Paradise quickly re-gain his balance and stood up straight, hands neatly folded in the bell sleeves, looking like an old wise man. Like a Magi should be. Servi only laughed more and actually yanked his formal student’s hood back to reveal large open jade eyes, one a few shades lighter to almost blue, ruffled burgundy hair. Paradise continue starring like a scared Aeryon Bell-ear before coughing and rubbing down his ruffled hair back to groomed perfection.
“He’s young for Magi Master, Sir Servi.” The Maggowiense studied the young human with thought.
“He still gets startle when the ship hits past the atmosphere. And hangs onto anything to the ship‘s walls.” His master chuckled, agreeing to the idea of how young and inexperience he was. Paradise just narrowed his eyes and wished he can set something a-blaze right now.
“Well, then it’s safe to say that his space cherry’s been popped but damn, I’ll get him acting like a boomer before long.” The cocky voice was back and he felt his blood boiling under his skin. Oh he was no longer feeling chilly in this fake air. He felt his skin turning red when the captian placed his hand on his shoulder.
The other two males laughed at the crude joke while the young Magi counted to hundred and another hundred in his head before smiling, forcing it out, looking like an irate sand-dragon then an amused young man. He roughly pushed the hand off of his shoulder and look back at his old master, before a light ball went off in his mind. He finally realized something that was rather important.
But he didn’t allow his eyes go big and changed his mannerism at all as he looked at Cook, smiling a bit more dangerously. “So I take it that you’re the Aitheria’s captian then?” There was three Union ships shipping out this day but the other two chosen Magi for the other ships had already met up with their captains and were already getting settle in their new quarters.
So of course, the annoying and cocky man with the vulgar gray eyes would be his new captian for the next year or so. Till the Temple sent word for him to embark a new mission. He was already praying for it to be soon. Like next week soon.
“Yes sie, I am. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you Olander. “ He dared to wink and grin while Paradise just wished fire and death through his eyes.
“It is Paradise.” He snarled and felt his nails going into the flesh of his arms to keep them from going the soft neck of the brunet beside him. It will be a long year for the Magi.
“Oh. I know.” Cook just grinned and squeezed his shoulder like they were old friends. Which will never happen. Magi do not make friends with Union dogs. His old teacher was exceptional. He was even friends with man-eating sharks.
How he pulled that off, Paradise will never know.
“Well then if you too are already introduced, why don’t you Captian Cook take your new Magi onboard the Aitheria. Show him around.” Servi smiled warmly with a twinkle in his yellow eyes like he knew something that he didn’t. Which given his old age and many years of experiences that was more then true.
Before Paradise could even protest, Cook already had him walking away and towards the Union Flagship. He looked over his shoulder and see his old teacher waving and smiling, mouthing the words ‘have fun’ before turning his head back to talk more with the Admiral.
He had a bad feeling about all this but he sighed and pulled his hood back over his head, hiding his scarred face once more. He was Magi, he was taught to handle any given situation. Still he much preferred to be back on Aeryon. At least he was warm.
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He lost interest somewhere on deck E or was it called floor nine, he don’t know anymore, but kept following the hyper-active captian as he showed him around. Talking about which codes were used for which floor and door. Given that he was given Top Clearance, same as Captain, he needed to know all the codes for ever door and floor, minus the crew quarters. But with his Magi teachings, he could just force the door to open.
Paradise rather just spend the next few months in his room, listening to his music pods and get on fixing up his saber. In his final mission as student, his trusty weapon was damaged but in all the excitement of his level up to Master and being assigned to an Union ship just months after. He didn’t have a chance. It was nagging at him from the back of his mind like a sore tooth that he was pretty much weaponless in a new and strange surroundings. Well that wasn’t exactly true, he had little throwing knives in his pouches on his belt. But to be without his switchblade saber was very unsettling.
“Now this is the Bridge.” Paradise was settled but didn’t jump as the large doors swished open and the brunet captain walked in with a smile on his face, it hadn’t left when they met but it was beaming with pride as he now plumped in the chair in the center of the large room, swiveling it to look back at the unimpressed Magi.
“They still need to get a chair for you though.” He rolled his eyes at the thought and looked around, seeing the Aitheria’s crew members busing themselves at their sections. Some even were looking at him, in awe and in fear. He had his hood over his face still, no doubt looking like a dark figure from their nightmares.
Paradise felt very self-conscious and wished that Cook would show him to his quarters so he could hide from so many eyes. He hide back in his hood and robes, feeling safe under the large dark cloth. Cook clearly wasn’t having that as he felt his hood being yanked down for the second time that day. He had some gasps as now everyone could see the scares on his cheek.
“I’m going have to hide this thing, scaring my crew looking like the Grim Reaper.” The other man talked as he went even further and start un-buttoning at the collar and worked his way down.
“Hey hey hey!” He swatted at the hands like a fussy toddler before closing up the robe with huffy breath. “Its too cold in here, trying to freeze me?!” Paradise took a few steps back, even moved to hide behind the pilot who just walked with a cup of warm coffee in hand. He looked surprise to be standing between his captian and Magi.
“It’s not that cold, you big baby.” Cook sighed and moved for the large robe again. Then found himself unable to move as the jade eyes stared at him focused and intently. “Cheater.” He grunted and looking soured.
“I call it surviving.” He wasn’t pouting, he would never admit to it. The pilot got over his shock as being in the middle of a very childish fight as he shoved his mug at a nearby ensign and turned around to pull off the robe forcefully and balled it up to throw at his Captian.
Paradise too stunned by the actions to have notice the cold as he stood in just his white skintight shirt and red mesh shirt that laid over it and black slim pants. He even unleashed the Captian from his invisible hold. The other man just stumbled and chuckled before sliding right in front of him. Fingers pulled at his red and black sarong that hanged around his narrow waist.
“You got a very nice figure for a grumpy uptight Magi.” His eyes lowered to leer down the slim lithe body before him. Paradise didn’t care for it so with narrowed eyes, he channeled enough of the fake air that surrounded around them and forced the gray-eyed captian back, topping him over onto his back.
He grabbed his robe with a humph and pulled it back on over his shoulders, buttoning it all the up even up to his mouth. Then turned on his heels and moved for the doors.
“Wait I didn’t dismiss you!” Oh no, no, no he did not just say that. Paradise turned around, glaring, feeling his blood turning into hot molten lava just as Cook was getting to his feet and fixing his uniform straight.
The Bridge was silent, so silent that one could here a pin drop. A pin was afraid to drop as both men stared each other down.
“I am not your crew, I do not belong to the Union. I am free to come and go on this ship as I please. You, an ordinary man, could not order me to leave or stay!” He nearly growled out the words like a feral thing. The Captian was glaring, breathing through his nose like a steam engine as he stood nose to nose to him.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll make you come at my order.” He grinned madly, gray eyes darken just a hue. Someone breath in sharply but all Paradise could hear was steam. Then next thing he knew, his knuckles was sore and throbbing and his arm was up in the air and the Captian was on his rump once more, this time rubbing his jaw.
The Magi knew his eyes was as wide as plates, everyone else had the same look on their face. Cook was just sitting there on the cold metal floor, rubbing his jaw. Paradise nearly ran into the doors, he was racing out of there before the doors could actually swished open for him. Then he was running down the hall, his robe just fluttering against his calves. People were either hugging the walls or getting plowed down. He didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just wanted to find the exit and get off this ship before it left port.
Suddenly he gave out a squawk as a heavy body tackled him down to the ground. “Oh no, you don’t. I still didn’t dismiss you and no way in Hell, I’m letting you off this boat before I get my hit!” Cook growled in his ear as they squirmed around, one trying to hold on and the other trying to buck the other half.
“Oh my Gawd, Cook Cook get off now!” The captian was off and was pinned to the metal walls of the Aitheria by a big burly man, pinning him down the more he struggled. Someone else helped Paradise to his feet, an ensign on the order of the big man. Then the woman took him away, to his quarters.
Cook was still looking at him with so much heat that Paradise swore that the eyes turned red. Well this was great way to start a new mission. What could he do tomorrow? Set off a bomb and blow up a planet. It couldn’t be worse then this day.
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Chapter one:
Blood. The only blood spill was from the cut on the side of the angler face, that went from the corner of the cupid bow lips to the temple and from then from the hairline down to his jaw. Both was bleeding madly for the first few minutes. The boy was more concerned about the blood that was just free flowing from his abdomen. He held his hands against the wound as he looked down on the dark crimson staining the front of his shirt and pants. Then with wide terrified eyes, he looked around to see dark ash caught in the desert winds, just fluttering in the wind among the sands.
Fire, no lava was flowing through his veins as he stumbled around, unable to focus from the pain and the mixed vision of red and clear. Gawleri wanted his poppa, his mamma to cradle him and say it would be all right. Even though he was sixteen and by all standards but one a man. But right now, with panic and confusion clouding his mind, he needed his parents, Hell one of his elder sisters to hold him and just care him. He wasn’t even sure that he was on the right path to the large housing settlement that was the Cloudstormer’s compound. He just knew he had to walk in this direction before he bleed out all over the blue sands of Aeryon. He laughed with shrill and gasping breath at the thought of his red blood and the blue sand turning purple from the flowing drops from his wounds.
Then he fell to the sands, gasping and wincing and with one hand he dragged himself through the sands like a surfaced worm. He didn’t want to die, not in the sands, not like this. He flipped over onto his back, swallowing spit and air, tasting the copper metal taste of blood, his blood, and cried out, kicking at the blue sands. Gawleri pleaded out to the twin blazing suns, one blue and one yellow, to make the lava in his veins cool back down to blood. It was burning him alive. Sand blowing into his eyes as the winds picked up, making him tear up even more. He rolled back and forth, just falling back into child of six then a man of sixteen as he cries out for his mamma.
Sounds of sand crunching under heavy boots, he prayed it was boots. A dune-dragon or a sandworm was only too fucking much right now. He tilted his head back to see boots coming for him. His head began to get fuzzy as dried blood with sand stuck in it over his right eye made it hard to keep it open.
“Poppa? Poppa, oh it hurts!” He called out, reaching for his poppa with one hand still holding onto his stomach. Strong hands took it, cradled it, petting it while a strong voice saying it will be all right. Just close your eyes. “The lava hurts me!” A hand covered over his eyes as breathing was getting harder to remember to do.
Then the lava was suddenly cooled down. He smiled so gratefully before succumbing to sleep.
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Ten years later,
The air was cold, fake on his skin and in his lungs. Stall even though it was being recycled every 3 seconds through the vents of the station. Paradise was desert-born, used to open air and hot suns. Here is was cool to make all life forms comfortable and artificial light from over head. He already missed the sandstorms and roars of sand-worms, rather deal with them then with other humanoids and the many legged ones and the non-legged ones of the Union Starfleet. His old teacher was having a ball though as he glided all over the place, smiling and talking like his switch was stuck on hyper-speed. The old man was born on a water-planet and enjoyed company of many instead of a few or even one. Servi was only on Aeryon because of him, training him for years under the two suns before receiving a message from the Temple to go to the Union Station in the Magow system. Paradise was chosen to be the Magi resident on a Union ship called Aitheria.
He wasn’t pleased. He didn’t like ships or the idea of sail among the stars. Don’t get him wrong, he loved the shape of them. He had his left entire arm inked with colorful stars in many sizes. But he doesn’t like the idea of being frozen to death all the time and unable to walk out when he’s bored of being inside.
“Don’t you look like the Grim Reaper?” An annoyingly cocky voice brought the young Magi out his gloomy thoughts. He turned his head automatically to the right, shielding his right side against the soft material of the large hood. He had the hood up mostly to hide his scarred face, still feeling sensitive about it. His old teacher always laughed and chided him about hiding in his large brown-red robes and hood even in their home that they shared together like father and son.
“I’m Pater Cook.” The man smiled welcomingly, holding out a hand to Paradise. His hair was cut short but still long on the front and sides to have some flipped over his left eye and was dressed in Union gold and blue with a star and a stripe on his collar. A captian.
“Paradise.” He coldly responded and nodded his head, keeping his hands folded in the robe’s bell sleeves. He inwardly smiled at the pinched look on the light-cream face and awkward jerk of the hand as it was pulled back.
“Just Paradise? No last or first name, just Paradise?” He asked as he moved to stand in front of the Magi so he wouldn’t have to keep his head at an uncomfortable angle. To be polite even after getting a rude greeting. Paradise didn’t move his head just a single jade green eye to watch the captian before him.
“That’s right. Just Paradise. It is my Magi name therefore you may call me only by that.” He felt his neck cramping up but he didn’t want this…man see his scars and start asking questions about it. People before always wanted to know if he got them in a great fight and try to make him into some great Magi warrior when in reality, he only just reached Master status three months ago. Being chosen to be the Aitheria’s Magi was his first mission as a Master.
“Odd name for a Magi. Was hoping for something more… Mysterious like ummm…” The captian pondered with his hand on his chin. The Magi groaned internally and pulled his hand out the safety of the sleeves to rub at his now very sore and cramped neck. “I got it, Oooolander.” the fool even fluttered his fingers in the air as he ooo’ed before adding ‘lander’ to them.
He stared hard. Even forced his neck to turn straight to do so with both eyes. He always told him that Olander, with one ‘O’ was already taken but for some reason , the Magi didn’t want to add on to the man’s disillusions.
“Oh I bet that hurt.” Cook reached in close to rub his hand against the faded skin on the Magi’s cheek. Paradise quickly darted his head back, confused and disgusted that the brunet actually thought that touching was allowed. He held his hands up in the air in understanding surrender, taking a step back. Two to be sure. “Okay, but I know that had to hurt. It looks old too.” Acting like a child, Paradise hid more of his face under his chopped dark bangs and hair.
“Not really.” Now the one on his stomach and the burn scar on his back was painful but he wasn’t going to talk about that. Not with this man. EVER.
Like a savior, he heard Servi calling him and rudely just left the captian with not even a parting nod as he turned his back on him. The long robes bellowed around his calves as he walked with great indifference over to the pot-belly man who had his arm around a Maggowiense Union Admiral’s shoulder, laughing and rubbing his belly with his free hand. He was grateful to have a kind master and teacher but really, there is such as a thing as being too friendly with people.
“Don’t be eye-rolling me, you dune-worm.” The old man shook a plump finger at his now formal student before chuckling and pounding against his back, now turning his head back to the Admiral’s feather-head. Paradise quickly re-gain his balance and stood up straight, hands neatly folded in the bell sleeves, looking like an old wise man. Like a Magi should be. Servi only laughed more and actually yanked his formal student’s hood back to reveal large open jade eyes, one a few shades lighter to almost blue, ruffled burgundy hair. Paradise continue starring like a scared Aeryon Bell-ear before coughing and rubbing down his ruffled hair back to groomed perfection.
“He’s young for Magi Master, Sir Servi.” The Maggowiense studied the young human with thought.
“He still gets startle when the ship hits past the atmosphere. And hangs onto anything to the ship‘s walls.” His master chuckled, agreeing to the idea of how young and inexperience he was. Paradise just narrowed his eyes and wished he can set something a-blaze right now.
“Well, then it’s safe to say that his space cherry’s been popped but damn, I’ll get him acting like a boomer before long.” The cocky voice was back and he felt his blood boiling under his skin. Oh he was no longer feeling chilly in this fake air. He felt his skin turning red when the captian placed his hand on his shoulder.
The other two males laughed at the crude joke while the young Magi counted to hundred and another hundred in his head before smiling, forcing it out, looking like an irate sand-dragon then an amused young man. He roughly pushed the hand off of his shoulder and look back at his old master, before a light ball went off in his mind. He finally realized something that was rather important.
But he didn’t allow his eyes go big and changed his mannerism at all as he looked at Cook, smiling a bit more dangerously. “So I take it that you’re the Aitheria’s captian then?” There was three Union ships shipping out this day but the other two chosen Magi for the other ships had already met up with their captains and were already getting settle in their new quarters.
So of course, the annoying and cocky man with the vulgar gray eyes would be his new captian for the next year or so. Till the Temple sent word for him to embark a new mission. He was already praying for it to be soon. Like next week soon.
“Yes sie, I am. Don’t worry, I’ll take good care of you Olander. “ He dared to wink and grin while Paradise just wished fire and death through his eyes.
“It is Paradise.” He snarled and felt his nails going into the flesh of his arms to keep them from going the soft neck of the brunet beside him. It will be a long year for the Magi.
“Oh. I know.” Cook just grinned and squeezed his shoulder like they were old friends. Which will never happen. Magi do not make friends with Union dogs. His old teacher was exceptional. He was even friends with man-eating sharks.
How he pulled that off, Paradise will never know.
“Well then if you too are already introduced, why don’t you Captian Cook take your new Magi onboard the Aitheria. Show him around.” Servi smiled warmly with a twinkle in his yellow eyes like he knew something that he didn’t. Which given his old age and many years of experiences that was more then true.
Before Paradise could even protest, Cook already had him walking away and towards the Union Flagship. He looked over his shoulder and see his old teacher waving and smiling, mouthing the words ‘have fun’ before turning his head back to talk more with the Admiral.
He had a bad feeling about all this but he sighed and pulled his hood back over his head, hiding his scarred face once more. He was Magi, he was taught to handle any given situation. Still he much preferred to be back on Aeryon. At least he was warm.
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He lost interest somewhere on deck E or was it called floor nine, he don’t know anymore, but kept following the hyper-active captian as he showed him around. Talking about which codes were used for which floor and door. Given that he was given Top Clearance, same as Captain, he needed to know all the codes for ever door and floor, minus the crew quarters. But with his Magi teachings, he could just force the door to open.
Paradise rather just spend the next few months in his room, listening to his music pods and get on fixing up his saber. In his final mission as student, his trusty weapon was damaged but in all the excitement of his level up to Master and being assigned to an Union ship just months after. He didn’t have a chance. It was nagging at him from the back of his mind like a sore tooth that he was pretty much weaponless in a new and strange surroundings. Well that wasn’t exactly true, he had little throwing knives in his pouches on his belt. But to be without his switchblade saber was very unsettling.
“Now this is the Bridge.” Paradise was settled but didn’t jump as the large doors swished open and the brunet captain walked in with a smile on his face, it hadn’t left when they met but it was beaming with pride as he now plumped in the chair in the center of the large room, swiveling it to look back at the unimpressed Magi.
“They still need to get a chair for you though.” He rolled his eyes at the thought and looked around, seeing the Aitheria’s crew members busing themselves at their sections. Some even were looking at him, in awe and in fear. He had his hood over his face still, no doubt looking like a dark figure from their nightmares.
Paradise felt very self-conscious and wished that Cook would show him to his quarters so he could hide from so many eyes. He hide back in his hood and robes, feeling safe under the large dark cloth. Cook clearly wasn’t having that as he felt his hood being yanked down for the second time that day. He had some gasps as now everyone could see the scares on his cheek.
“I’m going have to hide this thing, scaring my crew looking like the Grim Reaper.” The other man talked as he went even further and start un-buttoning at the collar and worked his way down.
“Hey hey hey!” He swatted at the hands like a fussy toddler before closing up the robe with huffy breath. “Its too cold in here, trying to freeze me?!” Paradise took a few steps back, even moved to hide behind the pilot who just walked with a cup of warm coffee in hand. He looked surprise to be standing between his captian and Magi.
“It’s not that cold, you big baby.” Cook sighed and moved for the large robe again. Then found himself unable to move as the jade eyes stared at him focused and intently. “Cheater.” He grunted and looking soured.
“I call it surviving.” He wasn’t pouting, he would never admit to it. The pilot got over his shock as being in the middle of a very childish fight as he shoved his mug at a nearby ensign and turned around to pull off the robe forcefully and balled it up to throw at his Captian.
Paradise too stunned by the actions to have notice the cold as he stood in just his white skintight shirt and red mesh shirt that laid over it and black slim pants. He even unleashed the Captian from his invisible hold. The other man just stumbled and chuckled before sliding right in front of him. Fingers pulled at his red and black sarong that hanged around his narrow waist.
“You got a very nice figure for a grumpy uptight Magi.” His eyes lowered to leer down the slim lithe body before him. Paradise didn’t care for it so with narrowed eyes, he channeled enough of the fake air that surrounded around them and forced the gray-eyed captian back, topping him over onto his back.
He grabbed his robe with a humph and pulled it back on over his shoulders, buttoning it all the up even up to his mouth. Then turned on his heels and moved for the doors.
“Wait I didn’t dismiss you!” Oh no, no, no he did not just say that. Paradise turned around, glaring, feeling his blood turning into hot molten lava just as Cook was getting to his feet and fixing his uniform straight.
The Bridge was silent, so silent that one could here a pin drop. A pin was afraid to drop as both men stared each other down.
“I am not your crew, I do not belong to the Union. I am free to come and go on this ship as I please. You, an ordinary man, could not order me to leave or stay!” He nearly growled out the words like a feral thing. The Captian was glaring, breathing through his nose like a steam engine as he stood nose to nose to him.
“Give me five minutes and I’ll make you come at my order.” He grinned madly, gray eyes darken just a hue. Someone breath in sharply but all Paradise could hear was steam. Then next thing he knew, his knuckles was sore and throbbing and his arm was up in the air and the Captian was on his rump once more, this time rubbing his jaw.
The Magi knew his eyes was as wide as plates, everyone else had the same look on their face. Cook was just sitting there on the cold metal floor, rubbing his jaw. Paradise nearly ran into the doors, he was racing out of there before the doors could actually swished open for him. Then he was running down the hall, his robe just fluttering against his calves. People were either hugging the walls or getting plowed down. He didn’t notice or didn’t care. He just wanted to find the exit and get off this ship before it left port.
Suddenly he gave out a squawk as a heavy body tackled him down to the ground. “Oh no, you don’t. I still didn’t dismiss you and no way in Hell, I’m letting you off this boat before I get my hit!” Cook growled in his ear as they squirmed around, one trying to hold on and the other trying to buck the other half.
“Oh my Gawd, Cook Cook get off now!” The captian was off and was pinned to the metal walls of the Aitheria by a big burly man, pinning him down the more he struggled. Someone else helped Paradise to his feet, an ensign on the order of the big man. Then the woman took him away, to his quarters.
Cook was still looking at him with so much heat that Paradise swore that the eyes turned red. Well this was great way to start a new mission. What could he do tomorrow? Set off a bomb and blow up a planet. It couldn’t be worse then this day.
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