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Some days, it was really difficult to upkeep the charade.
Tamsy Caines was an anomaly. An... oddity... Both on the ground, In the domed cities and the Sphere.
He wasn't a weakling. He didn't wake in the morning to the constant churn of the earth with distain. Most on the ground held some sort of contempt for the world, their environment, their lives - The unfairness of it all. Instead, Tamsy awoke most mornings with an eerie sense of satisfaction. He was decisive in life, he had a plan - Ambitions, Goals... An end to which he worked towards. As to what that end was? Who could say. The blonde didn't offer that intel up in any circumstances. Not even the threat of death was enough to loosen his lips and get him to sing.
He was peaceful; too peaceful. Too Zen... It unnerved most.
Most of the other Cleaners, new and old, held some kind of frustration... some malice towards the world; at the shitty hand they'd all been dealt. Even the Spherites, from what Tamsy had observed, held some contempt to their lives. The city dwellers had some innate distrain to anything marred or stained. They threw away perfectly good items and replaced them just as quickly. Overconsumption to it's core. The slums weren't much better. Unable to obtain the status of the city, dirty and unkept... Abused by those in power and left to starve and rot.
Thrown to their death for crimes most didn't commit, simply to keep up appearances, vastly unaware of what thrived beneath them.
The Grounders assumed all of the Spherites had it good... That simply wasn't the case, just ask Rudo.
But Cleaners? Cleaners certainly had it the worst. Thriving in polluted environments, traipsing across trash filled wastelands. A routine 6 year storm that could all-but wipe cities clear off the map. Routine trash rain that could crush or impale the haphazard wanderer who hasn't paid attention to the weather forecast. Sickness that typically ended in a slow, painful death. An air so thick with Toxins that it choked your lungs and rotted the organs from the inside out.
Death was a constant for the Grounders. For Cleaners, more-so.
Cleaners had the job of combating all of the 'wrong' in the world. The carelessness of the Spherites, the grief of those who inhabited the ground. The culmination, the organic results of all the shit and rot and wrong of the world... Thrown into a blender and enhanced, stored and swelling beneath layers of trash and broken shit... The world spitting out a monstrosity hellbent on destruction and death. Trash Beasts...
So yes, every Cleaner had their 'thing'. Their reason's for being here, for doing what they do. For running head first, without a solid plan, into the clutches of a Trash Beast, to their death. Suicidal Maniacs.
Givers inherently weren't common, no - But becoming a Cleaner certainly wasn't mandatory. He knew of a few Givers who simply lived their lives in peace, undetected and unbothered. Like the street vendor in Canvas Town, for example, and his Vital Instrument, A knife. Remlin, too... The child simply ran back and forth, doodling as they damn well pleased. Sure, Remlin worked with the Cleaners... But Their power wasn't all that suited for combat besides Aid and protection.
Raiders were Givers who simply thrived on chaos and anarchy, committing atrocities for their own gain. Raiders didn't put their lives on the line to battle gigantic monsters and protect people. They worked for their own motivations and wants, banding together and stirring up trouble.
Cleaners, well - They worked for people who didn't appreciate them. For people who branded them strange and un-usual, due to their emotional attachments to random items.
'Honestly, we should just let a trash beast loose in the city. See how many people survive that without some form of appreciation for what we do.'
The Cleaners themselves, was a merry band of misfits with their own... peculiarities.
For example, Rudo had his entire revenge thing going for him. Riyo had some kind of former grief regarding her family & past life as an Assassin. Delmon of course, had the horrific murder of his wife. Zanka... Well, Zanka was scared of being perceived as a failure, what with his upbringing and short comings as becoming a Hell Guard... Now the lad nipped at Enjin's heels for any shred of acknowledgement and praise, like a pathetic dog.
The entire existence of a team named Team Child... with actual children on it...
Enjin... Well, who could really know what Enjin's Malfunction was? The man was an enigma just as much as he was an open book...
In conclusion, Every Cleaner was some sort of psychotic fool, with some kind of trauma in their past and a well loved item that allowed them to rip through animated trash that wants to kill them. Don't even get him started on the supporters...
It took a special kind of stupid, to do this kind of job. But then, What did that make Tamsy?
Tamsy was a purveyor of all things... nice. He wasn't a collector, or hoarder no- The blonde just had... a certain taste, for specific things. Like being clean, for one. During his trips back and forth to the Sphere, Tamsy had developed a... habit, for picking up things, for learning and watching... He wasn't at Rudo's level of enthusiasm - But he held some appreciation for the 'niceties' of the world.
Like the fact that he'd taught himself how to render soap, for example. It was a morbid process... involving ashes and a manner of all things... but once Tamsy wandered into the building with morbid shaped cubes of clear soap, scented with a mild hint of lavender on behalf of Delmon... Suddenly everyone wanted some.
The blonde had happily offered some to the other Cleaners... Hoping beyond hope that some of them would use it, so their horrendous body odor would stop assaulting his sensitive nose. It made living easier.
Urgh, who could stand being dirty for so long that they didn't appreciate soap...
Cracking one amber eye open, Tamsy heaved a deep sigh, turning onto his back as he heard a resounding crash from deep within the building.
Headquarters was alive with the thrum of movement and life. A creaking floorboard here, a non-too-softly closed door, dull voices in the common rooms... Mornings here weren't binary. Someone was always awake, working or simply existing, even during the early hours. The building never slept. Tamsy had come to tolerate the constant noise, despite the constant interruption to his sleep. It was only seven in the morning, He'd been awake, half conscious since six, and the building was already breathing then... Inhaling and exhaling.
He could hear August' outbursts, loud and erratic as he argued with his sister. Delmon, who was as loud as always, talking, no- shouting at someone. He even recognized Dear Santa's soft footfalls, padding down the corridor. Surely Bro was trailing behind him, also quiet but less careful about how his feet landed.
Another door slammed, somewhere to the right and Tamsy felt his brow tick, irritated.
Fuck... He was tired. The night had been a particularly rough one. The night air had been thick with heat, muggy and arid in a way that it hadn't been for some months since the last trash storm cleared the atmosphere. He'd woken at 2am, to his navy hair clinging to his nape, strangling him with clumped strands that had wrapped around him as he'd tossed and turned. His sleep shirt and the thin sheet he'd acquired had stuck to his skin, forming a suffocating concoction that had Tamsy ripping the shirt off and flinging it to the floor.
His thick, chunky knit blanket was discarded earlier in the night, substituted for the thin sheet he'd liberated from August's stash some days before. The cotton was threadbare, thin... The designer wouldn't miss it.
He'd grown upset and frustrated within the next hour. His skin smelled of swear and salt, the combination of the cracked window allowing the smell of hot trash and something rotten on the low, barely there breeze, to flow into his room and mix with it. It made the blonde nauseous. It was stomach turning. His skin itched from dried moisture, making him rub at it. His mood soured quickly.
Since waking, he hadn't been able to regain his sleep... REM a distant ambition as he turned onto his left for what felt like the tenth time, feeling the scars on his chest pull & pulse. They still bothered him, despite being healed. He'd resigned to watching the hours tick by, a salvaged clock on his nightstand counting the minutes for him. As the morn approached and the clock stuck Six, Tamsy had, had enough.
He just closed his eyes and dwelled in darkness for the next hour, listening to the buildings constant thrum of activity.
Resigning himself to his fate, The blonde pulled himself from the sanctity of his mattress, his bare feet hitting the warm floorboards with his typical quiet grace. He bent and scooped up his blanket, which had been bundled at the foot of his bed, running his fingers across the soft yarn. He'd woven it himself, using a finger weave technique he'd learned some time ago. It'd taken him some years to complete. Yarn was few and far between in the wasteland of the Ground. He'd simply toted back and forth, scowering the scorched earth during missions and outings. His eyes keen for any salvageable scraps of material. He'd collected what he could, storing them in his knapsack until they returned to headquarters eventually.
The blanket, which he'd threaded with the help of Tokushin, bleached with chemicals he'd taken from the Sphere, and meticulously cleaned with his own soap concoction Until the once bold, mismatched colors had paled and turned pastel, had been completed only after his last trip up to the Sphere. The time in which he'd stolen the Watchman Book and killed Regto...
He'd obtained the last spool of thick, pearly white yarn from deep in the city. Had worked it into the boarder of the blanket the very same night.
All that was left, was to dye it a deep, blood red, somehow.
With a wrinkle of his nose, a pink tongue poking from between his lips to play with the metal ball of his labret piercing, Tamsy flicked the blanket outwards, fully spreading it across his mattress, pivoting on his heel as he made his bed. He was a creature of simple habits, making his bed and keeping his environment clean was one of them. His bed was a far cry from the plush beds and duvets found inside the Sphere, but it was more than most here had. Between a foam pad atop his old mattress, two floppy pillows he'd boiled in the bathtub for a week each & his blanket... Tamsy actually had a somewhat real bed. It was a point of pride, really.
'Just proves I'm not an animal, like the rest of these degenerates...'
Another bang... more crashing from down the hallway... The thin walls shook as another door was slammed, the rotting frame rattling the plaster and old brick.
He bit his lip, frustrated.
He guessed it was time to show his face...
Stepping across his small room, Tamsy approached his Stereo. It was another relic of a time before his, old and beaten - paint scratched, but it worked, and that's all that mattered frankly. He switched it on, pondering for a moment before pressing play. Classical music reverberated from the speakers, painting the heavy air with a harmonious note. The opening of Beethoven's Fleur De Lis. Tamsy fiddled with the volume dial for a moment before cranking it up to full.
He dressed slowly, but efficiently.
His uniform was particular, mainly due to how particular it's wearer was. He was one of the few that August had approached for input on his Cleaners attire. Tamsy had requested only a few simple things; Soft, Big and Layered.
August had certainly delivered, gleeful at being given full creative liberty, with only a few requirements.
The material of his uniform was mainly soft cotton, but his coat had an inner lining of a silky fabric. It was heavy, but in a weighted way, putting pressure on all of the correct points. He hadn't told August he would have appreciated something so heavy, but it was like the designer could see into your very desires while consulting you.
Of course, Tamsy didn't make a point of waxing poetic about how he loved that the sleeves covered his hands... Making him appear and feel smaller than he actually was.
His shirt too, it was long, baggy & short sleeved, it hid everything beneath it safely, away from prying eyes and Tamsy's own scrutiny.
The blonde didn't exactly like being seen as delicate... He knew how he looked of course... But he didn't mind feeling that way, sometimes.
Half way through getting changed, something in the air shifted.
The music trailed away from the harmonious notes of a Beethoven classic and turned... dark. A voice took control of the track, deep - warped and angry. The words it growled full of hate and malice as the instruments morphed from soft, to heavy and aggressive. Thrashing drums and heavy guitars, deep glutaral growls and screams echoing off the walls.
A small smirk fell across Tamsy's face. 'Such is the way of some things I suppose... They appear soft to the touch, when in actual fact they're sharp...'
The fleeting expression only lasted for a moment as the blonde caught his reflection in the vanity mirror, a sharp frown marring his face. Urgh... His hair... It was a disaster... Tangled from a long night of rough sleep. It wasn't clean enough to leave down for the day, a build-up forming near his scalp... Barely visible to others, but to him? He could see it. So yes, it was going up in some fashion, but... He really couldn't be bothered to section the navy from his blonde as he usually did. It simply took too long, too much focus and effort.
For a fleeting moment, he's tempted to find Riyo and have her lop it off at his shoulders...
He debated himself while he brushed his teeth, swilling his mouth with his own alcohol based concoction. He really did look dreadful today, the deep bruising under his eyes casting a shadow and making his face look sullen. He was paler too, his scar stark above his eyebrow.
Suddenly, his uniform felt heavy, like it was weighing him down, suffocating him. The tag on the back of his dress shirt was scratching at his nape, right below the red of his choker. He was uncomfortable. It was a horrid feeling. Shedding the jacket, he folded it over the top of his bed and returned to his mirror, taking a deep breath, pulling at his collar.
Now, seriously... What could he do with his hair?
Arkha Corvus was a very observational man.
One had to be, being the boss of the Cleaners, after all. He knew all too much, more than he let on, despite letting most of his crew run around unchecked. He was aware of the ploys, the ins and outs of certain teams, the habits of specific individuals
He knew of the cracks in his foundations, the holes that had to be carefully repaired with plaster and patience. He knew where the weakness were beginning to form, mold and infection festering and invading the individual components of his well oiled machine...
It's how he'd known that Tamsy Caines? Was not Okay.
When he'd passed the blondes room that morning, he'd heard it; The loud, screaming Death-metal that Tamsy preferred. It was drowning out the sounds of the world around them, angry and harsh - pointed. Tamsy was a typically considerate individual when it came to his music. He only listened to it this loud when the Headquarters was near empty. But this? This early morning serenade of piss and vinegar? Full of curse words, insults and profanity? It was becoming a common thing as-of late.
Bro had openly complained about the noise earlier this week, apparently flustered that Dear and Guita had begun copying the songs they'd heard, screaming profanity without fully understanding the meaning. Arkha had snorted in amusement, reassuring Bro that He'd have a word with Tamsy. He hadn't... yet. But he was considering having Remlin paint a soundproof sigil on Tamsy's door. Simply so the young man could listen to his music in peace.
Arkha had stalled in the hallway momentarily, wondering if he should knock, intervein. If what he presumed was about to happen, did in fact, happen; Tamsy was about to appear in a foul mood. He'd witnessed one such mood on occasion, only twice, and Tamsy was unrecognizable during those hours. It had been miserable for all involved, especially Tamsy. The blonde had near ripped Enjin's head off with Tokushin.
Listening to Tamsy's soft footfalls in his room, hard to hear below the heavy music but there, He decided against it. Tamsy was a ritualist, his getting ready taking the exact same amount of time each morning from the moment he woke until he left his room. Arkha didn't wish to disturb the blonde and risk his ire being worse. Instead, he made his way to the common area.
The younger would join them soon, surely and Arkha had to ensure their was enough fruit left for the rueful man once he did appear.
Tamsy had a dreadful relationship with food in general. The elder had noticed it not long after he'd arrived to become a member of the Cleaners. Tamsy preferred anything grown, fruits and vegetables, nuts and the odd sweet treat. He didn't indulge in anything fatty, any meats or highly processed items like bread or rice. He'd eat fish, when pushed and on the rare occasions they had it. If their wasn't at least some grapes left, the younger man would simply skip breakfast, and that wouldn't do.
Corvus found himself in the would-be 'Mess Hall', which was inhabited by a good number of cleaners and support staff already. A long table dominates the far wall, laden with all types of foods and treats. Most cleaners had a sweet tooth, preferring sugar and carbs over anything. Anything to load-up and go, a long day of physical exertion ahead of them. It's why the older man allowed it; otherwise - he'd be strict about a balanced diet for all involved.
He scoped out the remaining food, spotting the small selection of fruits at the far end of the counter. There wasn't much, a few branches of grapes, an orange, a few apples and a few strawberries left. Arkha grabbed a bowl and loaded it with a branch of grapes and a rather large strawberry, as well as a bowl of white yoghurt, topped with a spoon of granola. He also pocketed the last orange.
Turning, he swiftly left the Mess, retreating back to his office. On the desk, he placed the two bowls, as well as the stolen orange, and placed his own coffee on a coaster.
He hadn't passed Tamsy on his way back, so he'd presumed the Blonde was still in his room. His assumption was proven false as he stepped back into the Mess, almost running into the smaller man.
He was speaking with Delmon, his tone it's usual soft lilt, as he made his way to the back, beelining for the corner which typically contained the only things he'd eat. Corvus watched him for a moment, observing.
He wasn't carrying himself with his typical aloof energy. His shoulders, despite being dropped into their typical relaxed slope, were tense. His smile, which never normally reached his eyes, was a half-assed half twitch if anything. His replies, while typically soft spoken, where short - clipped. He didn't tolerate Delmon's shouting half as much as he typically did, the added curse words a glaring warning.
When Tamsy eventually looses his patience, snapping at Delmon? All but screaming at the bigger man? That's when Corvus knows. Tamsy's eye's were wild for a moment, baring his teeth and pushing the bigger man away from him as he loudly greets Arkha upon spotting his re-entrance. The boss winces at the volume, so it's no wonder it hurts Tamsy's ears when the larger is right on top of him.
There's a quick conversation between the two members of Team Eager, as Delmon apologizes while Tamsy scolds him. The blonde finds Arkha's eyes, challenging and defiant, almost daring him to say something about the interaction. To maybe pull Tamsy on his behavior, a warning maybe... But the words die in Arkha's throat as he spots the dark circles below the blondes eyes, the barely-there shaking of his shoulders, the way his eyes darted back and forth in caution.
But the most glaring sign that something was wrong? It was Tamsy's hair.
The usually well maintained, silky strands of ash blonde and navy, typically stylized into his artistic half bun & braids? Non-existent.
Thrown atop his head in a singular bun? Strands falling from the tie to frame his face? Half of it wasn't even contained atop his head, a chunk of navy blue cascading down his back, loose.
He also wasn't wearing any shoes... Opting to go with only his socks. Which was...Odd.
'That's not good'
Movement to the left caught his eye, as Dear Santa got up and also approached the same corner as Tamsy, falling in line with the blonde's footsteps. Tamsy was normally good with the younger members of the Cleaners. He knew that Dear had some sort of odd fascination with him. The boy would gravitate towards the blonde, along with Guita, whenever he was in their vicinity. They often mimicked him, it was honestly adorable.
Watching Tamsy interact with Dear Santa at the breakfast bar, Arkha kept a close eye. Tamsy wasn't one to typically snap at the children, unusually patient with them; actually. From the corner of his eye, the taller man could see Bro also observing closely; as ever the guardian of Team Child, ready to intervein.
They watched as Tamsy; as gentle as possible, placed the last strawberry into Dear's awaiting, open palm. The boy made a noise of pleasure, simply leaning into Tamsy's side in thanks, before pulling his pacifier out of his mouth and chomping down on the fruit. Tamsy smiled, a genuine one, but once again, it didn't reach his eyes. He simply watched as the Duo toned boy bounded over to Bro, showing him the half eaten fruit while the elder coo-ed at him.
Arkha turned his attention to the pair briefly, watching too, before returning his attention to Tamsy's distressed form, except... The slender blonde wasn't there anymore. His plate laid empty on the table, Tamsy completely gone from the scene.
The boss made to follow, but was intercepted by Enjin, who looked like he'd dragged himself from sleep, flanked by Zanka and Riyo, Rudo suspiciously missing from the group. Arkha pinched the bridge of his nose.
Today was going to be a long day.
Breakfast was always an... Event... to say the least.
By the time that Tamsy had reached the dining room, the environment was in full swing. A lot of the support staff; Including Gris & Tomme, were dotted around the room, in varying states of dress and conversation.
Team Child was officially up and moving, as well as - Unsurprisingly - Delmon.
Bro Santa & Dear Santa were engaged in a quiet, eye contact heavy conversation, while the third member, Guita - chatted with Follo about Kaiju's. Bro was seemingly nursing a cup of presumably coffee, while Guita had a plate piled high with Pancakes and syrup, discarded for the moment for her heated, mostly one-sided conversation
Riyo's shocking head of red hair and Zanka's prone form had seated themselves in the far corner, two clean plates piled atop of one another, towards the end of the table - seemingly done. Another cup, steam rising from the rim sat to their right, the liquid pitch black and sans creamer - Probably Enjin's.
Rudo wasn't anywhere to be seen.
"Tamsy! You're awake! Good Morning!" Delmon had shouted, standing from his seat and approaching the smaller member of Team Eager. Tamsy grimaced inwardly at the volume, but attempted to offer Delmon a weak smile, despite the pounding in his head. "Good morning, Delmon." He answered softly, reaching for a plate at the end of the long table full of varying breakfast foods.
Vanilla eyes scoped the lay-out. Disappointingly, all that seemed left was highly processed junk, crammed full of sugar. Tamsy wasn't one for sweets, he preferred simple. He also wasn't one for meat this early in the day, so the smell of stale bacon and scrambled eggs was near nauseating to him.
While he made his way down the line, Delmon dutifully followed, bellowing;
"How did you sleep? I hope you slept well!" Tamsy Tsk-ed under his breath, grinding his teeth. "I slept well, thank you." He lied, picking up a piece of soggy French toast, inspecting it before placing it gently back down. He felt Delmon lean over his back as the bigger man reached for a piece of plain toast for himself.
Delmon wasn't one for respecting Tamsy's personal space, and shockingly? Tamsy didn't usually mind it. He'd routinely let Delmon get away with shit that would have any other 6-feet underground, and the big man took full advantage of it. But today, while Tamsy was in such a mood? He wasn't so welcoming of it and he growled under his breath as Delmon pushes his way above him.
"Ah, Boss! Good morning! I hope you slept well!" Arkha had just stepped into the room, as Delmon shouted his greeting - right in Tamsy's ear. Tamsy near screeched and shoved Demon back with an elbow, the bigger man going surprisingly easy despite his size advantage. "Delmon, could you fucking not scream in my fuckin' ear?" snapped the blonde, seething and gritting his teeth, eyes flashing that enticing deep blue and warm amber, seemingly to glow from within.
Delmon looked taken aback, stepping away from Tamsy quickly. He'd been careful with the blonde ever since the events in Amo's tower. He knew what Tamsy's Vital Instrument was capable of, and he was certain that Tamsy had the item tucked up his sleeve currently. Angering the smaller man wasn't on his list of ambitions. "I'm sorry, Tamsy. I didn't mean to startle you." He replied, softer and the blonde scoffed. "You didn't" He snapped "But one doesn't need to be so loud to be heard, right?" Tamsy regained his composure quickly, voice softening to that songbird lilt he'd perfected over the years. "You need only speak and we'll listen, Delmon." Said man nodded like a scolded child and slunk off to his table.
Tamsy caught Arkha's eyes and tilted his head challengingly, daring the superior to say something. He didn't.
Turning back to the bar, Tamsy's eyes found what he was looking for. Fruit was difficult to find on the Ground. Polluted soil and terrible toxins making most plant grown foods inedible. But with some ingenious use of ones Vital Instrument, and someone - probably with the help of Delmon, had managed to procure edible Strawberries and grapes. Well, A strawberry... There was one remaining in the dish and Tamsy reached for it without a second thought.
It was then, he felt a tug on the length of his sleeve. He tilted his head to spot Dear Santa, who's dark eyes where locked on the strawberry in Tamsy's delicate hand, eyes longing.
This was a reoccurring thing, apparently. For the past few mornings, whenever Dear and Guita were in the mess-hall along with Tamsy, the two younger members seemed to shadow him. They followed his movements, grabbing and tasting whatever Tamsy had selected from the offerings. Guita made odd comments, Dear simply hummed as they did it. Tamsy entertained it, simply because at least the children where eating healthy with his influence. They never involved him in their discussions, but he listened in from time to time. Eventually, they returned to their guardian, Guita relaying whatever opinion she had that day about the blondes fruit of choice.
However, that was on a normal day... Today - Today wasn't one of those days.
Tamsy had the undeniable urge to simply elbow the kid in the face from pure frustration. Why couldn't anything be simple? If it were anyone else, he'd have considered it fully, possibly even done it 'accidentally'... But Dear was 10, a child. His Vital Instrument was a pacifier for fucks sake. He shouldn't even be a Cleaner at his age. The idea of team 'Child' turned Tamsy's stomach. Guita, who wasn't much older, was strong sure... But they were children. Poor Dear was the youngest in their ranks. His power came from collecting energy. He had to put himself through high pressure to simply power up. Having watched the poor boy fight, Tamsy had always felt a strong distain for it.
He even held a heavy resentment to Bro Santa, for letting the poor kid put himself in harms way...
He sighed softly, looking down at Dear, who'd managed to move his sight from the strawberry, towards Tamsy. He was attempting to look coy, fighting the pleading look of a typical child who'd spotted something they desperately wanted. Dear didn't talk, not often enough anyways. Which made it all the more worse, but him all the more tolerable to the elder. He didn't hold Dear any ill will yet. As the boy grew? He only hoped he didn't turn out like some Cleaners.
He relented, far too quickly. He handed the strawberry to the boy, who's face lit up in childish joy. The boy spat his pacifier out, biting down on the fruit. He smiled at Tamsy, lips coated in fresh, red juice as he pushed himself into Tamsy's side. A crude, half hug that made Tamsy's breath stutter in his chest and his body freeze in panic. He was uncomfortable. He blinked down at Dear owlishly, confusion apparent.
The hug didn't last long. As quickly as Dear had initiated the contact, he'd removed himself from Tamsy's space with a motion of thanks, and bounded back to Bro, who'd thrown Tamsy an appreciative smile. One the blonde didn't - couldn't return. He simply scowled at the man.
Dear was gesturing animatedly towards Tamsy, smile infectious and wide as he waved at the blonde.
Tamsy felt his stomach twist, a hot, wrong sensation burning up his throat as the world twisted and bile battled it's way up his throat. A surge of heat struck across his chest, prickling at his neck as his breath cut short.
With a quick look around the room, Tamsy realized the loud chatter from the others seemingly returned to focus, a loud ringing sound making his head pound even more as his eyes swam.
He'd decided - He put his plate back and darted from the room, narrowly missing Enjin in his rush to escape. Enjin yelped, disgruntled, but wisely moved out of the way.
In the hallway, Tamsy let his mask slip, slouching against the wall and gulping down deep, greedy lungs full of air, his hands shaking as he buried them into the crown of his hair, pulling at the strands in frustration.
Suddenly, the walls began closing in; the hallway bent as a wash of cold doused Tamsy from the top of his head, to his ankles. He swayed as the long stretch of corridor stretched and bent, the roof spinning above his head as he struggled to drag air into his chest. He began to slump against the wall, his vision blurring at the edges, his sight turning black as his throat burned.
He needed to get to the reception. He needed to get to Semiu, to get a job, anything to get outside the claustrophobic building, the heavy atmosphere. He needed to get out. Get out of here. FLY.
He was dying. He was sure of it. A heart-attack, his heart was about to give out-
A heavy hand landed on his shoulder, grounding him. Everything came to a screeching holt, the world slammed to a still as Tamsy's golden eyes found Arkha's grey ones. He was momentarily distracted by the way the dim light glinted off the bigger mans piercings before he realized the other was speaking to him.
"-You okay? You looked about ready to throw up?"
Tamsy couldn't respond. It was too much. Today was going to hell. What the fuck was this? Was a lack of sleep making him crazy? His crappy mood?
He'd done too much. Screaming at Delmon? Losing his composure? His kindness to the kid? And now what... a fucking panic attack?
He was fucking up. Failing. He was going to fail his mission. He-
"That's it, My office, Lets go."
He almost falls from the way Corvus pulls him, yanking him out of his momentary mental distress and down the hallways towards Corvus' office. Tamsy struggled for a moment, but the boss' grip was firm on his wrist, unrelenting. He had no choice but to stumble after the bigger man, momentarily dumbfounded, before regaining his faculties somewhat. He pulled his hand free from the others grip. "I can walk myself to your office, thank you." He stated, watching as Arkha observed him, expression open. The man cracked a wry smile, tilting his head. "I hope so, or I'd have to consider carrying you."
Tamsy doesn't dignify that with a response, simply sets off ahead of the boss, making his way down the winding, graffitied halls to the mans office.
Once inside, Arkha gestured for Tamsy to sit while the man closed the door behind them, locking it securely before taking his jacket off casually.
The blonde stiffly seated himself in the chair before Arkha's desk, posture on high alert. "If this is how I spoke to Delmon, I'll apologize properly later." he muttered, contempt at the idea lacing his words. Arkha snorted, taking his seat and pushing one of the two bowls, the one with yoghurt and oats, towards Tamsy on the desk between them. "No, this isn't about that. Although, I do think an apology is warranted." he agreed, folding his hands under his chin, elbows on the mahogany surface. "This is, however - about you."
The smaller of the two scoffed. "What about me?" he asked. "You don't seem yourself today." was the simple response. Tamsy, who'd kept his sight on the lip of the desk suddenly found the leaders eyes, disdainful. "And how, prey tell, would you know I'm not myself. You don't know me." he all but hissed, composure cracking, angry at being called out.
"Tamsy, you aren't yourself. I know enough. Drop the act."
'Which fucking one? The helpful, polite lamb? Or the Angry spitting cobra... Both are an act, Corvus.'
"What act?"
Corvus sighs, a long suffering sound, closing his eyes briefly, before looking back at Tamsy with a too soft expression and pushing the bowl towards him. "You need to stop, Caines. This isn't helping yourself."
"Helping myself?" Tamsy's laugh is high, acidic. "Oh I see what this is." The shell cracks, just a little. "I hate to break it to you Boss-" He spat, "but unlike most in this building, I'm not some broken person in need of being put back together." The other mans' head tilts at the comment, eyes fixing Tamsy with a pitying look. "I never said you were broken Tamsy" he states. "But everyone needs help once in awhile."
Tamsy clicks his tongue, folding his arms across his chest and sitting back, staring Arkha down. "Not me. I'm fine."
"Okay, then indulge me." The boss responds, crossing his own arms, head tilting. Tamsy blinks at him, blankly. "What?"
"Well, If nothing is wrong with you, and you don't need help, you can help me." He states simply, pushing his chair back and standing. "I need you to do something for me... A job."
"And what..." Tamsy grinds the words between his teeth; "Pray tell, Is the job...?"
"Eat everything in that bowl, as well as these grapes."
Tamsy seemed to short circuit, his pale eyes falling on the two bowls adoring the desk. When on earth had Corvus grabbed those? They weren't in his hands when he'd found Tamsy in the hallway. "I'm not hungry" He bit out.
"There's also a strawberry that I managed to rescue. I saw you give Dear the last one." hummed the boss, reclining in his chair a little. "That was very nice of you."
Tamsy didn't respond to that comment, instead he repeated himself. "I said; I'm-" "Not hungry, I heard you." Arkha interrupts him, smiling. "Here's the thing Tamsy, I'm not clearing you for work today unless you eat the damn yoghurt." He moves the spoon he'd had the foresight to grab too, closer to the bowl. "So unless you feel like being stuck in my office, all day, You had better start eating."
The blonde stares at the boss for a moment, as if questioning the reality of the moment. Debating whether to believe the bigger man or not. After a moment of warring with himself, Tamsy sat forward, grabbing the bowl and spoon and staring at the contents.
It is something he'd typically go for. He cursed Arkha's observational skills. The man didn't miss anything. Tamsy took a spoonful of the yoghurt and brought it up to his lips.
Tamsy ate slowly, under Arkha's supervision. The other man grinned widely once Tamsy had finished half of the small portion, prompting the other man to eat the rest with a tilt of his head.
After awhile Tamsy began to lean back against his chair, eventually bringing his legs up and sitting cross-legged in the plush arm chair. The room was warm, quiet and frankly, comfortable as shit, so Tamsy found it extremely difficult not to find himself relaxing in the calm atmosphere.
Once Tamsy had finished the bowl of Yoghurt, Arkha exchanged it for the one with the grapes, pushing the bowl towards Tamsy insistently.
"So, Tamsy - What exactly got you so worked up this morning?" Arkha's tone is conversational, at best. One could almost forgive him & think that he was being polite. But Tamsy knew better. Corvus was digging, for what - exactly, Tamsy didn't know. But he wasn't about to entertain this game of his. "Delmon, he screamed in my ear, you heard it for yourself." he answers simply, picking the strawberry up and observing the rich red fruit, finding it very interesting suddenly.
"Mm, not quite. Sure, Delmon scared you. But you were wound tight before even then." comments the older man, setting his cup back on the coaster and re-folding his hands. His eyes stayed locked on the blonde, scrutinizing.
"How would you know?"
"Besides knowing almost everything there is to know about you, Tamsy? You've been playing that god awful music at all hours, on full, and you're usually more considerate than that." The comment is dismissive, mean almost. Like Arkha was sure and that's all there was to it. Like he had all the pieces in this game of chess, and Tamsy was checked already. He gritted his teeth, bringing the strawberry to his lips and taking a sharp bite - vicious.
"You don't know me Corvus... You think you do, but you only know the false me. If you knew the real me, you'd have me executed."
"So I listened to my new album a few times this week, that's a crime?" Arkha watched Tamsy's display as he ate the fruit. It didn't impress him. The big man was nearly unflappable. But Tamsy wasn't being like this to intimidate Arkha, no - there'd be no point in that. He was being like this to be difficult. Once he'd finished the large berry, he moved onto the grapes, picking them out one by one, inspecting them before he bites. Arkha has fallen silent for a moment and Tamsy thinks he's won-
"Plus, your hair."
"What about my fucking hair." He's angry, Corvus knows he's angry. Tamsy's eye's flash with that iconic blue haze that means his Vital Instrument is vying to be used. He's loosing his composure. If Arkha pushes a little more, the stoic blonde will crack. "It's a mess... Tamsy-"
"Oh fuck you. Like you look fantastic every morning. I've seen you, walking into walls half asleep-" "Tamsy!" Corvus yelled, slamming his hands on the desk as Tamsy worked himself up, pushing him to stand. "Calm down!"
Tamsy bolts upwards, the bowl and remaining grapes going flying to the floor, as the blonde throws himself upwards. "No! Fuck you Arkha!" His eye's are electric, the blue pulsing below gold as Tamsy flexes his wrist, feeling Tokushin slips from it's hidden compartment in his sleeve and into his hand. Corvus reacts quickly, pushing himself in front of the desk & into Tamsy's space. The blonde backs away, putting distance between them as the tip of Tokushin peaks from under his long sleeves, blue thread stark in the low light. The threat was pointed, imminent and very, very real.
The boss needed to defuse this situation, and quickly. Or he'd end up, quite literally, trussed up like a prized pig. "Tamsy, I'm not insulting you. You just don't look your usual self-"
"Shut the fuck up!"
"Tamsy Caines, you will sit the fuck down and explain this little outburst, or you will be on mandatory time off and I will keep you in this office until you tell me the truth!"
The blonde is long past gone, He isn't listening, nothing Corvus say's will get through to him. He's never seen Tamsy so out of it. It's scary, frankly. He debates getting Delmon for a moment, but only briefly. He doesn't - He knows Tamsy isn't in this state willingly. He doubts the blonde would ever want anyone to see him this way. He probably loathes the idea that Corvus is seeing him so raw.
Arkha does something completely irrational. It's a one in a million chance. It's a Russian Roulette, either he'll draw a blank or be shot in the head, but he pushes forwards, decides it's worth the risk.
He wraps his arms around Tamsy's lithe frame, pulling the blonde towards him and into a tight embrace. One large palm falls on the back of his head, just above the nape of Tamsy's neck, putting the blondes face into his shoulder. His other arm loops around his small waist, stoking a finger in small circles on his hip.
Tamsy reacts violently, pushing against Corvus. He brings his arms between their bodies and pushes with all of his power. He's screaming, overwhelmed - Arkha is sure at least some of the other Cleaners have heard. But the door is locked for this specific reason. He'll get Semiu to deal with it later.
The fight lasts all of 45 seconds, Tamsy tires, his hands trapped between their bodies, his strength failing. Corvus doesn't know where Tokushin is, but Tamsy hasn't welded the Distaff at him yet. He's a ball of energy, vibrating against the bigger mans front, pure rage and hurt radiating off him in waves. He's crying, gentle but silent tears streaming down his cheeks. From hurt, sadness or frustration, Corvus doesn't know, doesn't need to know. Once Tamsy's leaning against him, exhausted, he uses one hand to brush the moisture from below Tamsy's eyes, touch tender.
"Please, Tamsy" Corvus breaks the silence, holding Tamsy as a silent sob wracks through his body. "I know... Okay? I know everything." He admits. "So please, don't hide anymore. Not with me. You don't need to. I've known from the moment you stepped through that door." He keeps his tone quiet, soothing, like speaking to a wounded, skittish animal.
"I'm not going to tell anyone. Not the others, not Rudo... No-one, alright? I'll let you do what you must, but please? You can't stop me from trying to stop you from putting yourself in danger." he confesses. Tamsy stills, going completely rigid.
"He... He knows? But how. I- I was so careful. How the fuck does he know?!"
"You don't have to pretend with me anymore, baby."
"What?!"
The room falls silent, Tamsy is still held tightly against Arkha, his arms still trapped. He's sure that if the bigger man wasn't holding him up, he'd collapse. He's exhausted. His body is screaming out at him, exhaustion creeping into the corner of his consciousness. The boss keeps his hold tight, still stoking Tamsy's face, thumb playing with his thick lower lashes.
"It- It's my hair... I just- I just couldn't do it. Everything is dirty... It's all filth and I- I haven't slept and it's all just, it's just hard."
A switch flips and Tamsy is suddenly released. He stumbles back, startled at his own admission. He keeps his wrists up against his chest, big coat enveloping him. He looks smaller, younger - more vulnerable than the bigger man has ever seen him.
Arkha doesn't say anything. He's watching Tamsy closely.
The silence is broken by his choker, the low pitched ringing sound loud in the quiet. He presses his thumb down on it. "Semiu". The woman's tone is sharp as she answers. "Mind tellin' me what the hell is going on in there, boss?" Corvus chuckles. "Oh, Like you don't already know. But everything is fine, no-one died." He watches as Tamsy drops his arms, moving to sit back down in the plush armchair, re-crossing his legs below him.
The boss ends the conversation quickly, giving Semiu orders that he's not to be disturbed for the next hour or so, before hanging up with a swift parting word.
He didn't waste any time, he rounded his desk and opened one of the drawers, pulling free a large, wide-tooth style comb. He shows it to Tamsy as he steps behind him slowly, giving the blonde time to protest his gesture. When Tamsy doesn't, he hums in approval.
He starts by loosening the bun atop Tamsy's head, winding the loose thread Tamsy had fashioned into a hair-tie around his wrist. He began brushing the comb from scalp to end, smoothing out each and every wayward section of hair until it's silky smooth and completely rid of the tangles. It shimmers like spun silk in the low light as Arkha makes a middle part, staring right at Tamsy's widows peak, all the way down to the nape of his neck.
He brushes the one half, scooping the thick hair into one hand. He sections it into three and begins to braid that half. It takes him maybe 10 minutes to create a thick, beautiful Dutch braid from the hairline all the way to the ends of his duo-toned hair. The navy blue intertwined and sliced through the blonde in the most beautiful way. He ties the section off with the pre-existing hair tie before softly requesting that Tamsy makes a new one.
The blonde, who'd been in a half-aware daze while the boss played with his hair, hummed and slid Tokushin from his sleeve, unwinding part of the spindles thread and fashioning another tie. Arkha was half way done with the other braid by the time the blonde was done, gently thanking him as he continued to twine the blondes hair around itself.
When he was done, he stepped around Tamsy, dropping the braids over the mans shoulders with a fond smile. "There, all you had to do was ask." Tamsy looked up at him, at the man who was leaning over him. The man who'd just dropped the biggest shock in Tamsy's current life. The larger leant down and tenderly placed a kiss on the blondes forehead, right above the scar. "You know, Tamsy - I've always been fond of you."
Tamsy looked at Arkha Corvus, the man who ran the Cleaners Organization with an iron fist. The man who knew more than he should, and he came to a conclusion.
What did it matter what Corvus knew, in the end? The game had begun, and there was nothing anyone could do stop the chain of events Tamsy had set forward. Corvus knowing didn't change anything. It didn't change him. It simply meant Tamsy didn't have to be as sneaky. Didn't have to play coy with the boss to get some time off.
Corvus would let him do what he wanted. The man would simply set himself the impossible task of saving Tamsy from himself. So what if hearts got broken in the process?
The entire world was going to burn.
"How's this? How about you take the week off. It was only a matter of time before you flounced your way in here with your hair down to entice me into indulging you anyways. Why not just skip that part, for once?" Arkha suggested, stepping back from Tamsy with a smirk and finding his seat. He pushed his half-finished coffee towards Tamsy, now cool, but the Blonde picked it up anyways. "But instead of running off to wherever it is you go; spend it with me - Here - In my office. You can sleep, knit, crochet, draw... Whatever you want."
"Is this your way of keeping me prisoner, boss?" Tamsy sasses, hands wrapping around the large mug as he sips on the lukewarm liquid. "Nah, I'm just crazy about you Tams. Don't wanna let you outta my sight for a minute."
The blonde snorts, coyly tilting his head back, distress completely gone and confidence oozing back in drones. "You know I won't say no to paid time off." He smiles around the rim, shark like as Arkha laughs loudly, boisterous.
Maybe Tamsy could use this to his advantage. A powerful man, in love with him? If that's what this is? What a powerful card to play.
"Now... We need to talk about what happened with Amo."
"Fuck off, Boss."
He just had to hope he didn't fall fast, too.