anothercontinuity | Red vs Blue pt 2

It's been some time since he's felt this sort of...contentment. Peace with what is and what will be, the very peace he sought when he first took the hood for himself. This is what being an Eagle should be.

Locus and Maine reside the closest to York's quarters, though it is the former Eagle that takes over drawing his baths, reading to him, and warming his bed. He wouldn't have been surprised if there was a ripple of jealousy through the ranks, but so far as he can see? Most of the other hawks are simply pleased that York is being attended to, and living vicariously through what Locus is being allowed.

Of course, they don't know the half of what goes on behind those closed doors. Delta suspects, he thinks, and it doesn't seem to have helped the man's already sour opinion of him.

Still, he's not here for him. He is here because he belongs, body and mind, to the man who saved him on the auctioning block. A mad Eagle that no one else would touch. That had been by design, of course. The idea, though he didn't know it at the time, would have been that no one would touch him, seeing him as too much trouble or a probable liability, a poor investment. Then, when his outlook seemed bleakest, in would swoop his master to emphasize just how much he needed him.

Things had not gone to plan. And though Locus didn't know this either, his former master was at the very moment making plans to recover his lost property. First things first. Time to meet the man who'd taken what was his, face to face.

Things are good. Business is rolling along smoothly, there've been no new attempts on his life or the lives of any of his partners; profits are rolling in, changes in real estate are going through, gang violence is at a low. For the first time in awhile he feels like he's got a handle on this. That he's got his feet under him and is able to point the family in the direction his boss had wanted, everything he'd talked about accomplishing, back when he'd been a potential member of his mews.

The only thing that's not comfortably settled is, well. Delta. Still sour, still tense and frustrated with York not letting him into the mews, with keeping him where he was in the family-

With being moved to his own apartment outside of the manor after one too many arguments about the same damn thing and cross commentary about Locus. It's an extended fight, whatever this is, but they were friends. Are friends. They just needed to not live in each other's back pockets for a little while. York still listens to his tactical know how in politics and business and sometimes? They have dinner together. It's...they're getting there.

But it does make for a tense front when they're at the office, Delta leading in someone connected to the auction block. It's not a visit he thought he'd be getting- research into who Locus' owner had been had happened and they'd left it at that. Keeping Delta on his side of 'not selling Locus back' shouldn't feel difficult- and yet?

Well, he knew how to present a compelling case.

Felix had a way of regarding his surroundings with vaguely veiled contempt. Sure, the place was nice, there were a good number of good-looking Hawks, but it might as well have been so much dressing. He only had one Hawk with him, a mean-looking Falcon with what looked like severe burn scars covering half of his face, the eye on that side entirely black.

While the hawk glowered, Felix smiled broadly as he approached. "You know, when I heard the old man kicked it, I wouldn't have put money on this place sticking around. But you've really made it your own, haven't you? Nice work."

Introductions? Please. That was for the help to deal with. As far as he was concerned, York and he were already well-enough aware of one another. They weren't quite competition, but certainly within the same social spheres where it counted. Enough for him to have known the man who would have had York take the hood, in his day.

Maine shifts from where he's standing behind York, helmed head angling slightly to the burned mess of a hawk behind Felix. Not one they know of but- worth minding.

"It's almost like having a family to run keeps things, I don't know, running." Even if he hadn't been blood- even if half of them aren't blood- the family takes care of it's own. Picks up the pieces and walks on forward head held high and all that jazz. Ten years on and he's, well.

Settled. Confident. Curious as to why Felix has decided to pop up now rather than sooner but hey. He's got an hour for this meeting and does try to commit to appointments Delta makes; even if he's half sure this has nothing to do with business. They've never worked together or even alongside one another; Felix does his own thing and the rest of the community knows well enough to leave it alone. Nothing gets blown up, no one gets shot and that? That's how shit works.

York's content to leave it at that. "What brings you in today?"

Felix chuckled, glancing to the burnt hawk. "See? I like that. Other family heads, they'd try and do the song and dance, all the pleasantries, all the pomp, trying to show how fucking classy they are. But not this guy. Straightforward, to the point."

His attention turned back to York, his hands clapping and rubbing together briefly. It was clear, at a glance, that he was not accustomed to staying still. There was a restless energy moving through the man.

"Fair enough. I won't waste too much of your time. My associates informed me that you were down at the auction block and picked up something of mine that happened to find its way there." A sigh, and Felix shook his head. "A misunderstanding, on several fronts, and terribly inconvenient I know. But the point is that I've invested a lot of time and effort into this particular hawk. Putting it plain? I really would like to have my property returned."

Those clasped hands opened, one waving absently to one side. "Now, I understand you're a little tight on personnel. So, I'd be happy to compensate you for the trouble. More than enough to buy two or three good hawks to replace him with, plus whatever he's cost you for upkeep. I think that's more than fair, don't you?"

"Other family heads haven't been in the gutter for a few generations." Not like him and Felix. York grew up there and got hauled in, worked his way up- Felix climbed up with a viscous sort of understanding for the game. As long as those knives were turned against the family? York didn't much care. He didn't bring too much attention to the business and didn't start shit he wasn't ready to finish and that made him more decent than most idiots that clawed their way up and had more money and power than sense. York relaxed a touch, smirk on his lips, something small and friendly because- well.

They did both have a better idea of how to get shit done than the other heads of various families. Knowing when to do the bullshit and when to cut to the chase is pretty damn important.

The smile faded in short order at the mention of the auction. The misunderstanding. All the little tells and tricks and everything in Locus that painted him as uncertain of his standing with York. You didn't ask a man to put on the hood and then sell him; you sure as shit didn't do it as, what, a mistake? Maine rumbled behind him quietly and York made a brief gesture with his hand, cutting off that sound of discontent. "I don't sell my hawks."

Hiding the contempt inherent in the statement was...difficult and he didn't rightly manage it entirely. Some things in the family were knew- but this? The mews, how they were handled? As old fashioned as it got. "And I don't recall your name being on his paperwork anymore."

"Yeah." His smile didn't precisely vanish as much as it morphed into a grimace. "See, I wasn't trying to sell him. A point that seemed to go over the head of the individual who drew up the paperwork for the auction. He's been dealt with already."

Another dismissive wave, and the scarred hawk's lip curled slightly.

"Doesn't matter, water under the bridge. He's my hawk. I put the hood on him, you see. You don't take on that kind of thing lightly."

"You don't take a Hawk or their contract to the auction block lightly either." You don't do it period- but it's done and for the most part it's somewhat accepted. The practice exists and he can't stop it, can't really condone it and can't spit on it because he'd gotten Locus there after all, hadn't he?

One good trade out of how many awful doesn't make it a decent practice.

"What were you trying to do, then?"

"Discipline. Of a sort."

Felix's smile still hadn't gone anywhere, but it was obviously shifting in tone as he turned, pacing to one end of the office and tilting his head at one of the pictures on the wall. "I don't like smacking my hawks around. I know, I know, they're our property, we can do what we want with them, everyone else does it. Beating them themselves, having them beaten, it just..."

His nose wrinkled in distaste.

"I mean, don't get me wrong. I enjoy violence as much as the next guy. Give me a guy who's done me wrong and I can go to town. Don't like to brag, but I'm kind of an artist with a knife. Ain't that right, Sharkface?"

The burnt hawk grunted as Felix wheeled around, eyes resting once again on York. "So yeah, I got no qualms about gutting a guy who gets in my way. Little pleasure with the business. But a hawk? They don't fight back. They can't, that's the point of them. Just isn't right, you know? But you gotta keep them in line somehow when they start acting squirrely. And when Locus starts acting squirrely?"

He let out a shrill whistle, shaking his head.

"So. If you don't want to hurt them? You scare 'em. Next question: What do you threaten a hawk with?"

"Labor." It was an easy and time honored solution in the family. "Useful, exhausting, generally not what they want to be doing in the first place and effective enough to dissuade acting out without violence or whatever the hell you were pulling with Locus."

All that warmth and easy camaraderie offered to another guy from the gutter? Gone.

"So you call it discipline, I call it bullshit." Discipline? Discipline. It was impossible to take that at face value, not when he could remember so clearly that quiet sense of loss, that driving need to prove that he was worth something. That he wouldn't fail. Locus was his, was content, was loved but he could still look over any hour of the day and remember his profile. The soft murmur of his voice, so damn small.

I don't know what I did wrong.

"You owned him. You don't play headgames with your hawks- and you don't let something like that get you all the way to an actual auction, let alone put them on the block. You know what happens to the ones that don't get sold because they've been labeled unstable."

Felix watches the warmth seep out of York, how cold he turns. Alright. So there's something here, he thinks. Roots already laid, something like loyalty or affection or whatever the fuck York thinks he's gotten himself with Locus.

"Yeah. Yeah I do," he replies softly, head cocking slightly. "...which makes me wonder why you picked him up regardless of that fact. Mercy? That's a lot of coin for someone who's just working on keeping things running."

The burnt hawk, meanwhile, had shifted his attention to Maine, silently gauging something behind that blown black eye.

"I needed an eagle." They didn't come up on the block all that often; an eagle trained and hooded was worth double their weight in gold; especially in good armor. The mews had been thin for years and one more body wasn't going to make that much of a difference-

Except in all the ways that it had.

Maine rumbled quietly- helmet golden, gleaming, and impenetrable

"Unstable is used to mark insubordinate hawks more often than actual violent tendencies. If he was insubordinate, I could train it out of him. If he was violent, eh." He shrugged, let his hands splay over the desk. He was mafia. "We have ways of handling that."

"But it's not an issue with numbers, or you'd have already agreed to give him back."

Felix sighed and shrugged, striding back across the room towards the desk York was now propped over. As if on cue, the scarred hawk took a few steps closer. Slow, almost casual-like. "I get it, I do. On a good day, he's a damn good Eagle."

"And on a bad day?" The likes of which he hasn't seen, honestly. In the Mews he was given space if he wanted it, included where he wished; had a space in York's bed, had a purpose guarding him. There had been no sign of 'getting squirrely' as Felix described. Not yet.

"On a bad day 'unstable' is a very, very kind term."

"You haven't noticed? I mean, anyone who takes the hood is some kind of fucked up or broken, you know that. But I took him as my Eagle to keep him from going rogue. On bad days, he forgets where he is. He goes back to where he was before, back during the war. Needs a mission, a bullet and a head to put it in. He doesn't get one?"

He lets the words trail off into silence, shaking his head and glancing back towards Sharkface, who for his part? Didn't so much as blink in his staredown of Maine. "While I appreciate you looking out for him like you have...there's a reason I took him. Me and him, we've seen shit together. Now, maybe threatening him with the block was a bad call. I can accept that."

Felix's hands pressed to his own chest, before one finger lifted towards York.

"But you've got no idea what you're in for on one of his bad days. It's not gonna be his fault, not really, but whatever you paid? It's not gonna be worth the Hell he brings you. So it's really gonna be best for you, me, and him if you let me take him back home, where he belongs."

"Everyone that went through the war has a little PTSD. Everyone in our business has some kind of PTSD." Half the time it was what kept them alive long enough to do well. The other half was luck; still. This all sounded very kind and well meaning and reasonable while smelling very much like bullshit.

"Maine- have Florida bring Locus in." See how Locus reacted to his old owner, see if there was anything resembling relief in his posture. Odds were that wasn't the case but- Who the fuck knew? It wasn't a call he was ready to make without consulting Locus. Which. Wasn't how this shit was done normally, but he was always a little odd.

Maine inclined his head and the growling cut out as he used the internal mike to contact Florida. Call them both in, just to be sure.

Small victory. He'd take it for what it was, turning slightly on his heel, as to be able to face the door without fully turning his back to York and Maine. Sharkface shifted accordingly, lining himself up at Felix's side, though it was the Eagle he kept his focus on.

Just in case.

Locus wasn't sure what to expect when he came in the door.

It wasn't Felix, that was for damn sure. No relief in his posture, no, but behind his helmet something stunned and somewhat pained seized his features. He was glad, more than a little, that no one could see that raw unguarded look.

All they would see is a slight hesitation in his step, his eyes shifting from York to Felix and remaining there. Felix just smiled, surprisingly soft.

"Hey partner."

Florida remained carefully still, poised at Locus' side. Under the helmet his eyes flicked from Locus to Maine to York, trying to puzzle out what the game was here- the hand he'd put on Locus' shoulder firms for the moment. Solidarity.

They all saw how Locus had been uncertain upon his arrival. Knew how glad he was to be here with York. They took care of their own.

"Felix wants to buy you back." York opened easily enough, eyes on Locus' helmet. No command to take it off and the lock? Was in place. Felix lost the right to see what was underneath the second he thought taking Locus to the auction block was acceptable.

Of course if they knew each other as long, as well as Felix said? Posture could read well under the armor. Didn't matter. The set of his shoulders were tense, but York's smile flitted over his face, much as it always did when he saw Locus. "I have my reservations."

"All completely understandable. He wants to protect an important investment he made, and I want you back. It's made things a little awkward, as you can see." Smiling broadly once more, teeth glinting, Felix opens his arms in a hapless little shrug. "I'm sure he'll make the right call. What do you think, Loc?"

Locus said nothing. Seeing Felix standing there, something tightened in his chest to the point of losing command over his words. Felix wanted to purchase him back. Felix wanted him back. Felix...

Florida's hand on his shoulder kept him grounded. Look at the situation. Look at the facts. Don't allow emotion to overtake you.

York was considering it. Had reservations. Wanted to keep him, but the decision hadn't been made yet. And here he stood, dangling between the two of them, and ownership of him yet to be properly determined. Swallowing thickly, he gave a very faint nod. He'd been asked a question, surely he expected an answer. "...I'm sure," he echoed softly.

"I know it's an old fashioned notion; loyalty and fealty, taking pride in one's Hawks and wanting them to live well under you; so it is less the investment and more wanting what is best for Locus." Which was no longer his own choice, as per the litigation that made the entire system possible. Whoever signed the contract owned him.

And right now? The name was still York's. And unless Locus made a compelling argument to the contrary-

It would remain York's.

Florida's hand slipped from Locus' shoulder to join Maine in flanking york, taking his usual position. Guarded on both sides, so, there really was only one place left for Locus if he wanted to come around to the other side of the desk.

His usual spot, next to York, kneeling at his side.

"So call me an old fashioned guy." It was an unspoken request, the way his hand fell off the wood to the chair he sat in, waiting. For a shoulder, for a hand, for whatever Locus chose to give him- if he chose to walk to him.

It was easier to mask the war of emotions with no visual cues to give away. He turned towards York, making his way towards him to take his usual position beside him, on his knees. Felix watched with what could almost register as fascination, before letting his eyes flicker back to York.

Clearly a show of ownership on his part.

"If that's what you want, then we want the same thing, pal. And I'd rather we were working together than...well. Not. But it's not like I don't understand your reservations."

He licks his lips. "Tell you what. Don't make the call now. Take some time, think it over. In fact, why don't you come by the compound yourself. I'm having a party thrown for some fucking contract or another, because hey. That's what we're expected to do for new partnerships." His hands slipped loosely into his pockets as he shrugged, looking briefly to Sharkface.

"Stop by, have a few drinks, bring your hawks. I could probably introduce you to a few folks, and you can see how well my hawks are kept. Then, by the end of the evening, you can let me know what you wanna do. Fair?"

York's hand slid to the nape of his neck by rote, massaging the joint of the armor. Easier without the helmet but- he wasn't displeased, he wasn't frustrated. None of this was on Locus. They'd talk it out after Felix left-

And he was offering them an out. Excellent.

"Talk to Delta about scheduling, he'll let me know if I'm free. If I'm not, I'll move some appointments around to make it." Delta who was slim and quiet and loyal, waiting just outside the door. Delta who was probably fucking ecstatic that someone wanted to take Locus back, remove this disturbance in the household that wasn't, in fact, a disturbance. Who would absolutely make certain this was a trip they could make.

It'd been awhile since he'd wandered out to socialize. He was due an appearance.

Also an opportunity for an Ambush but- he'd have Maine and Locus. "Will that be all?"

"For now. We'll be in touch."

He let his gaze shift to Locus, holding it there for one second, then two, before turning and making his way out of the door. Far from relaxing, Locus was still holding himself taut under York's hand. Focus. Just focus.

Felix, meanwhile, let his gaze fall towards Delta as they made their way out of the office. "We're supposed to get together, you and I," he breezes out, without prelude.

"Easy." York murmured, thumb swiping against his armor. "Want to lose the helmet or keep it on?"

The option would always be Locus' in this room. Always.

In the hall- Delta startled somewhat, head snapping up from where it'd been buried in a tablet, flicking through forms, appointments- the meeting took less time than anticipated and freed up a block later in the day unless York spent undue time reassuring Locus of his place in the household and he'd have to move things around again-

The flirtatious opening had him knocked off center, pale skin flushing. "I- of course. We are scheduling a secondary meeting, a business luncheon, time with a contract lawyer and notary- or a social call?"

"On."

Let him hide. Let him keep that barrier there a while longer.

Outside, Felix grinned sharply, his eyes flicking over Delta with an approving sort of look. "Wouldn't say no if you wanted to drop by," he replied with a sly sort of look. "But we're putting down an invitation to a party, in particular. A week out, my place. Your boss, his hawks...and you, I hope."

Oh. Oh, he thought he'd caught a whiff of something like insecurity. This? This could be useful. Damn useful, if he played his cards right.

Bird of Prey AU

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject

no subject