Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

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Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

Post by Guest on Mon Apr 22, 2013 3:57 pm

Ana's joints creaked as she walked into the barracks in the dead of the night, stumbling to her trunk while cursing under her breathe. Everything ached, from the crick in her neck to the arch of her foot, and it was entirely her own fault. She'd pushed herself too hard again, just like she knew she would- this was how the story always went, after all. The tall, imcompetent girl with too little meat on her bones would rise to great power, be the Chosen One, had an irrepressible spirit, and would eventually overcome her obstacles. She would be a great warrior. And Ana had tried to fill that role, truly, she had, but it hadn't proved as easy as it had seemed. She'd spent the last year trying to improve her skills as fighter, but none of it had helped. It just didn't make any sense- Ana had done everything that she was supposed to do, including doing stupid and dangerous training all alone at night to prove her dedication, but apparently something in her training montage had messed up, and, if anything, she'd only gotten skinnier. There had to be something she was doing wrong, of course, something she was changing... short of dressing up like a male Legionnare- Well.

Her dirtied jeans and sweat-stained purple shirt stared back out at her through the reflection, along with the browned bandages on her arms and the bruises on her face. Ana made a face at herself and winced away from the echo of it, plain as day and ugly as sin. She missed floating around camp in lacy dresses, singing to herself and blowing things up on the beach. This battle-worn Centurion thing was just not working for her on any level. Even impressing Calix was a lost and forgotten cause these days. But still, she pushed herself until her comrades looked on in pity, worried over it until her nervous fingernails drew blood. She had to lead her cohort. "Sum ad ipsum, Pater," she whispered to the gold sword in her hand. "Pro vobis."

Sighing, Ana changed the sword back into the delicate bracelet her father had given to her during their one and only meeting and slipped it back onto her wrist, pressing a kiss to the small lightning bolt that held the two pieces of chain together. It was really the only proof she had that she deserved to be in the First Cohort at all, much less Centurion, and she wore it constantly. Besides, even if she wasn't sentimentally attached to it, the nasty shock it gave to anyone who tried to pick it up made it too dangerous to leave lying around in her trunk.

Ana smiled, feeling a little better with her bracelet on her wrist and her Cohort safely sleeping where she could see them. A few tugs of ribbon and her sweat-slick hair was loosened from its ponytail, the normally straight creased and disorderly. She ran her fingers through it as he toed off her ratty Converse, yet another item of clothing she was always seen wearing. If there was one good thing about wearing training clothes, it was that her shoes, at least, matched them. It wasn't long until Ana was in her nightgown, knee-length and far too unpractical for a Roman soldier to wear, but it was soft and gorgeous and Ana- Well, she needed it, truth be told. Yawning, she sat on her bed, promising herself sleepily that she would wake before dawn to rush to the baths before anyone else could join her. It would be nice to soak without being forced to deal with the fact that even the twelve year olds were better developed than her.

A few seconds passed and Ana was stretched out on her stomach, nightie riding up her legs. "My bandages," she said as she drifted off. "I forgot to..." But her bandages could wait until the morning, after she'd caught a few precious hours of sleep.

There was a knock on the door.

Ana muffled her scream with the corner of her single pillow, refusing to move her tired limbs until one of her younger charges (and, oh, it was so strange, seeing a twelve year old carrying a spear and pledging their lives to their Camp, but she supposed she was no older) sniffed wetly and shifted on their bed, kicking out at their friend, who whined in their sleep. Groaning quietly under her breathe, Ana heaved herself out of bed and straightened the hem of her gown. She could at least look the barest bit respectable. "Ventio," she called softly, and then, the barest bit louder- "Coming!"

She made her way across the floor of the Barracks just as carefully as she had coming in, pushing her choppy hair back from her face with a sigh. Pushing open the door, Ana did not bother to look before she was greeting their late night visitor with a groggy, "Hello?"

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Re: Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

Post by Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan on Wed Apr 24, 2013 9:37 am

A night. Just another night. Of course, that was the problem, wasn't it? Another night where sleep just wouldn't come, another night of Calix's soft snores from the room over, of Tac's quiet breathing from the floor. Everyone resting, preparing for another day. And Elijah. So out of tandem with everyone else...not a particularly odd occurrence, it kind of came along with the whole child of Discordia thing, but something the boy didn't want to deal with when it came to sleep. As hard as Elijah worked himself on so little sleep, he knew he wouldn't be able to pull it off much longer. How long had it been since he had managed a night with more than three hours of sleep? It was probably a bad sign that the boy couldn't even remember. It was late...although at this point, Elijah had lost all track of time. Midnight? Past? What did it even matter? The boy's eyes would shut eventually, and he'd wake up to his alarm clock feeling like his eyes had only closed a minute before. Maybe it wasn't even worth attempting sleep at this point...Elijah wasn't feeling like it would be a good night for sleep anyway. Perhaps he could take this time to just walk around a little. Breathe, enjoy the springtime night noises. The fresh air...just a few hours of nothing. Of absolutely nothing. With a soft sigh, the boy climbed out of bed, grabbed his favorite oversized sweatshirt from where it rested at the foot of it, and tiptoed around Tac's sleeping bag. Making sure to stay extra quiet as he opened and closed his door (though, oddly enough, he thought it might have squeaked...it never squeaked when Tac slipped in and out), Elijah whispered, "Sorry, Tac," to the sleeping child. It didn't matter, though...the young boy slept on, his breaths deep and heavy as ever. "Must be nice..." Elijah sighed as he slipped through the long hallway, to the main room. Unlock the front doors, slip through, lock them up. Keys in pocket. Deep breath.

Deep breath. The night air was so beautiful, around Elijah and in his lungs. It was a little chilly, still, but mostly perfect. Besides, back in Maine, there would probably still be snow on the ground. The boy didn't like the cold, but he was more than used to it. Although, as he wandered aimlessly across the grounds, Elijah wished he had thought to put on some shoes. Well, too late to go back now, not that the boy wanted to go back. Maybe not ever. Maybe it was time to leave, just move and never stop moving. Walk...travel...leave...leave everything behind. No people...no responsibility...a wandering man. Though the idea didn't have as much appeal with the thought of not having a beard. Wandering men always had long beards and tall wooden walking sticks. "No beard, no walking stick..." the boy mused. The beard (which should probably be grey, come to think of it) wouldn't happen. Seventeen...apparently facial hair wasn't anywhere in Elijah's genetic diagram, because it had yet to happen. Rubbing his chin, the boy briefly wondered if he ever would. Perhaps it would be okay to be a wandering man without the grey beard. Realizing he had just walked a circle around the Principia, Elijah frowned. "Not cut out to be a wandering man..." he murmured to himself. "Can't even make it past the Principia. What has my life come to?" with a soft sigh, the boy leaned back against the side of the building and slid down it, pulling his knees close to his chest as he sat. "No lone wanderer...though I don't really want to be alone, anyway. Not at this point..." pausing for a moment, Elijah buried his face in his hands. "I seem to have the 'talking to myself' part down well, though."

This was pathetic. Absolutely pathetic. Go wake up River? She'd probably kill him. Anyone would get angry being woken up at whatever time it was (perhaps Elijah should have grabbed his watch). Who would get the least angry? Maybe the boy should just go wake Calix now. He certainly wouldn't realize it was the middle of the night, therefor he wouldn't get angry. It could work...looking back at the Principia, Elijah sighed softly. He wouldn't wake Calix. Not now...it would happen soon enough, but now wasn't the time. He wouldn't wake Calix, he wouldn't leave the Legion to no one and become a wandering man. All these things Elijah wouldn't do. So what would he do? Sit here against the side of the Principia until he fell asleep or the sun rose? Maybe it would be an interesting experiment to just stay put and see how long it took for someone to notice the Principia doors were locked or that Elijah himself was missing. Hopefully long enough for the boy to get a few hours of sleep. Then again...his alarm would go off at five-thirty as usual, Tac would wake up and notice Elijah wasn't there as usual...what time was it now...with his head resting against his knees, the son of Discordia actually found himself getting slightly drowsy. Time...a construct that remained a mystery to Elijah. Cyclical and linear. How ridiculous...something so abstract, yet so precisely measured...the boy had been meaning to ask his boyfriend about that. Jack seemed to get it a little better than-

Jack. Perfect. Getting up on semi-shaky legs, Elijah took a deep breath. Jack wouldn't mind if Elijah woke him up. No matter what time it was, the older boy had proved that he was there for his boyfriend and although this may have been putting it to the test a little...love. It was scary how quickly the boy had reached that point. Though maybe not...maybe the past few months had all been a buildup to this. Could Elijah truly say he was in love? Maybe it was just delusional ideas in a sleep deprived mind. Not that it really mattered, the boy knew the chance of Jack loving him back...maybe ever, were pretty slim. Still, the son of Venus had at least showed that he cared a lot. Hopefully that extended to being woken up at Gods knew what time to sit with Elijah for a little. Of course, the boy realized as he stumbled to the First Cohort barrack, that also meant he would be waking up the First Cohort with his knocks. Knock softly. Only wake up the person closest to the door. At this point, Elijah wasn't sure how loud his knocks would or wouldn't be. And he wasn't sure he cared. Actually, he didn't care at all. Praetor Emmanual could do whatever he wanted to do...because he was Praetor and all. As long as he kept it official sounding. Though the boy wasn't sure why he'd be grabbing someone in the middle of the night for official business, he wasn't sure it would matter. Just as long as it ended with Jack holding him. First Cohort barracks. Knocking on the door lightly, Elijah took a deep breath. Wait a second and...bracchae. Ana Cora had opened the door, and she didn't look happy. Try to be officialÖ"Centurion Freeman, is Jack-" blew it "ÖLegionnaire Wheelan in?"

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Re: Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

Post by Guest on Fri May 03, 2013 3:36 pm

Ana blinked, her brain tired and struggling to keep up. She frowned a little, confusion furrowing her brow. "Pr- Praetor Emmanual?" She managed to say, softly. Glancing up at the sky just over Elijah's shoulder, Ana could see that it was still the dead of night all around them. That was odd, in itself. She would have thought Praetors took what sleep they could get, given the stress of the job. Exhaustion had Ana straining to hear Elijah's words, but when she caught them, she hummed vaguely and nodded a little. Ana glanced inside her barracks, knowing exactly where each of her Legionnaires usually slept. "Jack is-" She interrupted herself by yawning softly. "Jack... Mm."

Yes, there Jack was, as usual. Not really much difference tonight, truth be told, which pleased her. She liked it when the patterns worked out. Turning back to give confirmation to Elijah, Ana stalled, biting her lip. What business could the Praetors have for knowing which soldiers slept the night through? Even for official matters, interrogations should have been conducted in the light of the day, in front of the Senate, not at half-open doors cloaked in shadows. Anxiety began to clear her mind, and Ana pulled the door closed a little more, where her tall and scrawny figure filled the cracks and tried to pull her face into something blanker, more professional.

Nothing about this felt quite right to her, and, call her paranoid, but getting rid of one dictator didn't mean the next leaders were going to be any better. You didn't have to be French to understand that one.

See, the problem was that Ana liked Jack. Not personally, of course, and definitely not romantically, but she was fond of hearing his voice and stories over the dull roar of the Cohort from time to time. Besides, he was pleasant enough to her when interaction was demanded, unlike most of the members of Cohort One. Even so- Ana wasn't in the habit of selling anyone out, especially those she could admit a certain partiality to, and that alone set her shoulders straighter than her body had previously allowed.

"It..." Ana frowned and bit her lip, wishing that she had opened the door in something a bit more intimidating than her thin nightie. "It is rather late," she began, carefully. "Don't you think, Praetor Emmanual? It was a hard day's training today, for all of us, and-" And I'd be much oblidged if you would leave and return in the morning. Preferably with documentation of your requests and Praetor Calix, if it is convienient. And in a perfect world, she would be able to say that, right before shutting the door in his face.

But she hesitated. She hated to be rude to him, if only because he had been present at her claiming, but there was also the fact that he could have her stripped of rank. Ana would be the first to admit that not being Centurion would come more as a blessing than a curse to her, but the idea of letting every sneer and slur have truth struck her to the bone. And Pater would be so very disappointed.

So, instead, Ana pushed a lock of dirty blonde hair out of her face and regarded Elijah as coldly as her fear would allow. "Praetor, I will-" And, oh, this would be so much easier with Calix; for all that he terrified her for so many reasons, she trusted him. "I will be frank," Ana said, voice unsteady. "I do not like the idea of men of rank coming and spiriting my Cohort away in the dead of the night. So, I..." I want you to leave, already, gods curse you. "So I respectfully request that you-" -Goawaygoawaygowaygoaway. "-state your business with Legionnare Wheelan." There. That should make her point politely enough, she supposed.

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Re: Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

Post by Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan on Sun May 05, 2013 3:41 pm

Why had Elijah thought this was a good idea? It was an absolutely horrid one that the boy should have taken some time to think about before putting it into action. Praetor or not, the boy couldn't just go waking people up just to get to his boyfriend. Especially if Ana Cora was the one being woken up. Elijah actually really liked the girl, even though they weren't especially close or anything. The two probably had a lot more in common than either of them realized...at least, that was the Praetor's sense. Maybe he should have gone the unprofessional route, though. Pulling rank at this hour (whatever "this hour" was) would definitely seem sketchy. Not to mention Elijah was a terrible liar...it would be a lot easier to explain that he, Elijah, not Praetor Emmanual, wanted Jack, not Legionnaire Wheelan. "Dumb..." the boy muttered under his breath. Dumb. He was so dumb. Hopefully, an attempt to fix that would work out. "Elijah," the boy said quickly as Ana Cora stuttered a Pr- Praetor Emmanual? "Just Elijah right now. Please?" how long would it take Jupiter to see Elijah pushing his daughter to strike him down? The boy knew lightning strikes rarely killed people, but this was Jupiter. Did Jupiter lightning strikes hurt and/or kill someone? Probably. And they were probably pretty painful. This was going to be a bumpy ride, even if Jupiter didn't just strike the son of Discordia down. And Ana Cora was definitely suspicious. The boy could see it in her face. The way she pulled the door shut a small amount. Oh Gods...Elijah wasn't exactly the type to be afraid of people, but right now, he was more than a little afraid of Ana Cora. Jupiter kids were crazy powerful, and despite any use of brute force on the small boy's end...no. It would have made so much more sense to just say something like...sorry to wake you, I just want to see my boyfriend, can I get him?

Either way he looked at it, Elijah was pretty stupid do any of this at all. He should have just gone back to his room in the Principia. Was it too late to just turn around now? Between his ever growing fear of Ana Cora and Jupiter, maybe it would be best to...no. Elijah wanted his boyfriend, and once he figured out how he could get that across to the Centurion, everything would be fine. Though it was strange...the way news spread at camp, the boy was kind of surprised Ana Cora didn't know Elijah and Jack were dating. It wasn't like the two boys were keeping it quiet, and the whole affair of them getting together had probably been seen by quite a few campers. It hadn't been much less than a terribly dramatic scene. But of course, the boy just had to assume Ana Cora would get the hint, attempting to be professional or not (which was a bad idea in the first place...wasn't this how secret assassinations and kidnappings and whatnot had happened all throughout history?) Elijah wasn't the best at staying clear on the best of days, let alone when he was this exhausted. One wrong move and there would be lots of trouble. Resisting the urge to burst into tears and have to explain that as well (also bad for public image and moral...one Praetor retreated to his room and the other showing up at barracks in the dead of night and bursting into tears? Easy call for mutiny). No, Elijah just had to ride this one out. Once Ana Cora woke up a bit more, the boy would explain what was going on, why he needed Jack now, and everything would settle down and everyone could go on their merry ways. It would be fine and no one would end up in pain. Or dead.

It was late, and Elijah had turned this whole affair into something much more complicated than it should have been. Of course, it was in the boy's very nature to do this, so why would this moment be any different? Being a son of Discordia in love with a son of Venus didn't make any sense. Nor was it fair. As Ana Cora spoke, Elijah started getting more of a feel for what was going on. Funny...the boy had never exactly pegged himself as a suspicious character...dangerous, maybe. Frightening at times, but most of the time he figured most people didn't even take him seriously enough to think him suspicious. That was definitely something the boy should try to figure out. "Yes, it's late. Really, I noticed. It's been a long day, I know that, too. I promise, I'd rather be asleep right now, which is why..." Elijah trailed off. Tone. He slipped into that 'nasty', 'sarcastic' tone too much, still, even though he didn't mean to or want to as much. But using that tone really wasn't going to help right now and Elijah knew it. It had slipped out anyway. Ana Cora started speaking again, and the boy tried to figure out how he could start patching this up. "If this had been a test, you would have passed with flying colors," Elijah reassured the girl wearily. "But it's not. And right now, I'm not a man of rank, I am a very sleep deprived seventeen year old boy who just wants his boyfriend," the boy pushed on between the girl's words. Why did he always figure the worst ideas to be the best? If that was a child of Discordia thing, was there a pill he could take to make it stop?

Still trying to figure out the best way to make it clear he wasn't up to anything nefarious, Elijah took a moment to stare at Ana Cora. Probably a bit more of a moment than was actually needed, because the boy felt things were probably getting a little awkward. "So..." Elijah finally started awkwardly. "It's not actually business," the boy sighed. "I just want some hugs and kisses from my boyfriend..." still awkward. Because really, it still seemed like pretty weak reasoning to wake someone up in the middle of the night, or early morning, or whichever they were at by now. At this point, the boy was feeling a little too tired to figure it out. Or keep trying. So it would probably be best at this point to just hold tight until Ana Cora figured out whether she believed him or not and not dig his hole any deeper. Not even wanting to continuing staring at the tall girl awkwardly, Elijah sighed and lowered his gaze to the ground, trying to figure out answers for some of the questions that might come his way. Unfortunately, the boy wasn't sure how to tackle any of the questions that might be thrown at him, so the best he could do was pray he could still manage a mean improv on this little sleep. "Esset enim quis exaudiri elit," the boy sighed under his breath. This was completely pointless and Elijah really should just leave. Gods help him if he didn't try, though. And maintain at least some of the stubbornness he had gotten so good at. And not cry...definitely no crying. That wouldn't help in the slightest. "If you want a written request, I hope you can provide some paper and a pen," Elijah tacked on for good measure. It took a lot more to beat him, after all.

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Thank you to all the Hillywood voters...so, so honored! <3
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Characters:
Elijah Emmanual-Wheelan & Devin Casales & Izzy Abney
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Elijah speaks in #78c7c7
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Re: Far Too Late for Polite (Elijah Emmanuel)

Post by Guest on Wed May 15, 2013 11:17 am

The night was quiet, and Ana tensed at Elijah's mumbled words, though she didn't quite catch them. She tried not to stare in confusion, but she knew that she failed. Ana's lip slipped between her teeth and she chewed at it in a steady rhythm. "Elijah," she said akwardly, even though she had once called him that without a second thought. But whoever was standing before her was not the same person she had met on the hill that day, and that, at least, Ana was sure of. Much had changed within them both, and everything in this moment felt awkward because of it. "Alright," she agreed, anyway, because what else was there to do? Nothing but wait for him to leave, at this point, or... Ana braced herself for the potential of a blow. It was no secret that she could barely handle herself in a spar, surely the Praetor would know that. How long would she be able to hold him off, if it came to that? And what would anything do to save her? She ran her fingers across Fabella and sent a quick prayer to her Father and Mars, for protection. ... Just in case. But Elijah didn't attack her, nor did he leave. Instead they were locked in a stand-off, the beginnings of a duel neither one of them knew the rules for. Ana was not looking forward to the outcome.

If Ana had thought that Elijah muttering to himself was worrying, she had never expected what would come out of his mouth when he actually spoke. Her skin prickled as he sarcastically agreed, mostly with shame, because yes, of course he knew, of course he wanted to be asleep, how could she be so- But the exhaustion had started to prey on her attitude, and the shame did not last longer than it took her fingers to trail across her wrist. Instead, anger replaced it, unbidden and unfamiliar in it's sudden arrival. It was an emotion she hadn't had the courage to feel in quite some time and she shook with it, a little. How dare he knock on her door in the middle of the night and be upset when she demanded to know the reason why? How rude could one man possibly be? How infinitely selfish was this Praetor they had put in control? But anger wasn't courage, and Ana bit her tongue and tried to fight down the fire in her eyes. Her nails traced the edge of a bandage as she waited for him to get through another one of his silences, eyes glued to his face.

"If it had been a test," Ana assured him, as sweetly as she could manage. "You'd have been missing a Centurion when you awoke." Perhaps it was not the correct thing to say, but it had popped into her head and flew out her mouth before she could catch it's tail with her tongue and reel it back in. At least it was better than the first, which had included much more flame and terror than her resignation would. "For it would be a very poor one, teaching your own Legion not to trust you." But her Praetor seemed as tired as she did, and the anger drained out of her limbs soon enough, leaving her sagging against the wall, the barest bits of frustration fighting their way through her tired mind.

"But it's not. And right now, I'm not a man of rank, I am a very sleep deprived seventeen year old boy who just wants his boyfriend."

Oh.

Well, why hadn't he just said so?

Ana straightened and blinked at the Praetor, a little confused, and a lot more surprised. Jack was not covert in his preferences or his enjoyments, but Ana would have thought Elijah a bit above Jack's usual pull. Then again, Jack had seemed quieter these last few days; Ana had thought that it had something to do with being soldier and maturity, but preoccupation often looked the same... A thousand stories and songs flew through Ana's head at the speed of light, reminding her of all the little clues she'd missed, the cues she'd forgotten to enter on. She coloured a little, not at the news, but at the simple fact that she'd been so involved in her own story, she'd forgotten to watch all the ones unfolding around her. Never again, she promised herself. Not when there's so much at stake.

"Ah..." Ana said, stepping back a little, a small smile lighting on her face. Now that she was sure that Elijah wasn't going to do anything untoward (though, knowing Jack, that wasn't exactly sure... unconsenting would be a better word) with Jack, it was much easier to show him the respect and hospitality she would have show Calix, even if the affection was a little fake. "Say no more, Praetor Emmanual. I understand completely." Of course she understood. It was practically her job.

Ana took an even larger step back and forced her weary smile to grow even larger, gesturing into her darkened barracks. "Placere introŽunte," Ana said, rather pointedly, in Latin. The habit of speaking to himself in Latin, a language that many of the people around him spoke, seemed a bit endearing, and her smile was more genuine. "I'm afraid, though, that Jack is asleep, so if you want-" Ana stalled, not daring to repeat Elijah's words back to him. "If you wish to speak to him, you'll have to wake him."

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