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[ricochetlove]

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for def - Like 007 but without the Bond girl

[ricochetlove]

The cells beneath the Silvermane Guard headquarters really could use some updating, Sampo thinks as he waits in one of them.

He'd been dragged in here on some minor, petty charges that he's about ninety-nine percent sure he'll be able to wriggle his way out of, and even if he can't? He'll be able to flirt his way out of, once Dunn's not on guard duty anymore. Dunn is an unfortunate brick wall of solid heterosexuality that seems to be laser-focused on a certain Landau sibling-- granted, Sampo can't fault him too much for that, considering his own proclivities, but still. It's a deep annoyance that his attempts at flirting his way out of jail are met with a human brick wall of obliviousness.

Ugh. He isn't even good for getting information out of, because he's just as close-lipped about that as he is about a certain captain of the guard. What did Sampo do to deserve conditions like this?

He has no idea of what's going on a few floors above him, in the office of a certain intelligence officer.

"And that's the situation as it stands," Pela says, handing the briefing file over to Gepard. "I've already taken the liberty of finding a partner for you, and the assignment has been approved by the Supreme Guardian. Let's go meet with him."

Surely she means another member of the guard or another intelligence officer, right?

[def]

Surely that's what she means—or so Gepard had assumed, skimming the file that's been handed to him as he walks after Pela down the stone hallways of the headquarters.

Espionage is normally not his forte, his face attracting far too much attention when the necessity in such missions is to lay low. But there's no one else who had his capabilities in the guards and who has knowledge of the Underworld that he's acquired from the Oleg and the Wildfire. Hence his easy response to the Supreme Guardian's request, even if Bronya had insisted that he need not accept if it's too complicated. Gepard sees it as a learning opportunity, if not a way to hone his skills even further.

Their footsteps echo as they descend further into the headquarters, and it's only then that Gepard realizes that he's being led not to one of the offices or rooms but to the cells below. Does this mean his partner is one of the jail cell officers?

Perhaps someone who knows the Underworld better than him?

"Pela, where are we—"

The tiny Intelligence Officer leads him to one of the cells at the very end of the hallway, gesturing at Gepard. His blue eyes narrow, taking note of the person behind bars ... and the person guarding him.

"Is it Dunn?"

Because she can't be pointing at Sampo Koski.

[ricochetlove]

While Gepard and Pela were making their way down the hall towards his little cell, Sampo was busy trying to distract Dunn with his outrageous flirting-- oh, Captain Dunn, I'm sure it would be fine if you let me just stretch my legs a little, what could I possibly do against a big, strong man like you?-- while trying to wriggle a hidden lockpick out of his glove with his hands cuffed behind his back. It's a more difficult task than he would've liked; the pick probably shifted around in the scuffle during his capture, leaving it in a more complicated position.

Then-- a familiar voice, echoing down the stone hall. Sampo leans against the bars of his cell and cranes his head to look as far as he can down it. He's rewarded in a short time with the appearance of Gepard Landau, accompanied by that little intelligence officer.

Apparently, he needs Dunn for something? Well, good, he can take this man away and replace him with someone more susceptible to Sampo's wiles.

"No, not Dunn," Pela replies, a little annoyance working its way into her tone. She wasn't even gesturing at Dunn! "Sampo Koski, by the authority of the Supreme Guardian, your expertise is required for a mission of great importance. Upon the successful completion of this mission, I have been given leave to offer you a full and unconditional pardon for all offenses currently on your record, including those for which you have not formally been charged."

It takes a second for all of that to sink into Sampo's brain. A full and unconditional pardon, every little petty crime and misdemeanor that Gepard's been on his ass for just... wiped clean, in one fell swoop. Gone, like it never happened. He goes from criminal to upstanding citizen in an instant. It's almost too good to be true, except that it comes attached to some mysterious mission that he's needed for.

"Well, color me interested, but what's Captain Landau doing here?" he says, once his brain catches up again.

[def]

It also takes Gepard a full minute to absorb all of that, turning to the dark-haired female with a look of disbelief on his face. He's usually not one to question the decisions and choices of the Supreme Guardian; he's a soldier, after all, he's not supposed to ask any questions and simply obey what orders are given to him. But isn't this beyond all sorts of logic?

"Unconditional pardon?"

What? Considering the amount of grief he's given him and the entire city? For someone to have his slate wiped clean, Gepard feels conflicted about this.

His gaze flickers from Pela to Sampo, looking like the Solwarm Festival has come early, his mouth pulling to a thin line. Then again, knowing him for so long, he's certain that that pardon is going to last for too long.

"... Don't get too excited just yet, Koski. The mission might entail you to fight in the frontlines of Belobog along with the other guards."

No, it doesn't.

case in point. re: I run fast when given a direction

[snowshield]

[This actually isn't the worst position he's been in, believe it or not. Nor the most embarrassing situation he's been in, though that might be hard to believe. The door is...

...and Gepard tries to glance past Sampo, while not making it obvious that he's trying to glance past Sampo...

...still shut. He can't tell if it's locked or not. He thought it was locked. He hoped it was still locked.

And, well, Sampo actually isn't the worst person to catch him doing anything. That honor would probably go to Pela, who was not only one of his colleagues, but also someone who dealt with his sisters a lot, and showed up fairly often with reports. The perfect mix of danger, disgrace, and also never letting him live down. Sampo, meanwhile, is a criminal. Him catching him doing something out of the norm is, well.

It's in Sampo's wheelhouse of things he deals with. Probably. Less social repercussions. Less collateral damage.

And they're in his office, so it's not as if he was caught out in the open. As long as that door was locked, they'd be fine. And, worst case, he does have a large desk Sampo could hide under.

But all of this is avoiding the real problem of Sampo being in his office. It isn't the fact that Sampo broke in, though that is a problem, probably. It isn't the fact that there's classified materials in various places, nor the fact that there's probably a warrant out for Sampo, or if there isn't a warrant currently there'd be one out eventually.

No, it's the fact that-]

I can explain.

[-he's sitting behind his desk, head tilted back, pants undone, cock in his hand, obviously a bit...sweaty and bothered, and Gepard Landau has no idea how long Sampo had been there because, well.]

Wait, why am I offering to explain. I should be arresting you? [It's a question, not a statement. His voice rose up a bit. Give him a moment. Maybe two?]

[ricochetlove]

[Sampo had come in through the window, actually, because he doesn't use doors unless he's absolutely certain that he won't be seen going through them, so he has no idea if the good Captain locked it. Who knows! Maybe he forgot to before he went over to his desk for a little self-care, maybe he didn't. Maybe the Supreme Guardian could walk through that door any second now and catch her guard captain with his pants down and a criminal in the room with him.]

[Maybe a little danger is just the kind of spice that his wank session needed. That, and a little Sampo.]

[Sampo probably had a real reason for coming in here, probably to sneak a peek at the upcoming guard schedule or to track down some classified documents that would help him evade capture or seal a deal. Maybe taking something that would give him an advantage over a competitor, a little blackmail material. Doesn't matter now, he's got better things in front of him.]

Not right now, I don't have a warrant out. [So that answers that question, anyway. No warrant, no arrest. Unless breaking into the guard captain's office counts, then maybe?]

[Wait. Hey. There's an idea there.]

[Sampo walks behind Gepard's chair, slides a hand down over his shoulder, a little down his chest. Goodness, Sampo should write a thank-you letter to whoever came up with the guardsmen's training regiment.]

Don't arrest me, Captain Landau. [His voice drops a little into a register that's undeniably suggestive.] I'll do anything.

[snowshield]

[Sampo says that there isn't a warrant out, and Gepard stares at him like he grew a third head, deliberately mouthing you broke in???, looking as if he's torn between throwing a punch right then and there (nudity be damned) and putting away his cock (but it is hanging out). Sampo, of course, ignores all of that tension, just as Gepard ignores the fact that Sampo is walking behind him. More specifically, ignores what he should be doing, which is stopping Sampo. Gepard's hand, instead, moves away from his cock, it grips the armrests of his chair, as if he's going to get up. He doesn't, sure, but it's as if he's about to, as if one wrong move and he'd be whipping the chair around like it's Earthwork, and be damned what's hanging out. It's as if he was going to do a lot of things and somehow has yet to get to any of them.

(Why is Sampo like this- better question, why does he like it. Why does he like it?)

A hand slides down, and Gepard inhales, sharp. His grip tightens around his chair, then, relaxes, then tightens again because the chair is safer than other things to hold at the moment. He wants to touch a lot of things. He shouldn't.]

You'll do anything. [His voice is low as well, quiet, careful. Deliberate. He's holding something back. He's holding a lot of things back. A lot of things were easier, before.] Anything?

[ricochetlove]

[So there's a nonzero possibility that Gepard is going to get annoyed enough with him to wield that chair like it's Earthwork and knock Sampo the hell out, but there's another, larger probability that he's not going to do that at all. Sampo prefers only to gamble when he knows what the outcome is going to be already, but these bones? He's willing to roll them.]

[That quick inhale sounds like victory. So does the way that Gepard's grip goes tense, relaxes, tense again-- a man who's trying to hold off a baser impulse. Gepard's usually resolute when he wants to hit Sampo, but he's less decisive when it comes to wanting to fuck him. It's kind of cute. Sampo would like to say that he was entirely certain that the good Captain would fall for his wiles, but, well. Gepard might decide he was having none of it.]

[His voice takes a certain deliberate quality to it that spells either danger or sex. Either way, it's a very sexy voice, and Sampo's willing to press his luck. He slides the other hand over his shoulder, down his chest, feels the firm muscle underneath his shirt. Leans in close to Gepard's ear.]

Anything.

[Let's play a game, Captain. You be the stern guard captain, he'll be the desperate thief trying to buy his way out of jail time.]

For snowshield - the kiss of the Nosferampo

[ricochetlove]

[Becoming an Emanator of an Aeon is a great honor, everyone always said. To be graced with the power and regard of a near-godlike being is a privilege, a benediction given as a reward for exemplifying the virtues of your given Path. Those sainted few, gifted with power and longevity, uplifted towards divinity, beloved vanguards of their Aeon.]

[What a load of shit.]

[Sampo is an Emanator of Aha-- the Joyseeker, the Laughter, the Elated One, whatever other euphemism people wanted to use for them to avoid attracting their notice. And you know what? It's a rough fucking gig. Maybe it's different for other Aeons, maybe Qlipoth or Xipe or one of the others are great bosses, but nobody ever told Sampo that being bestowed with divinity would come with so much baggage. And the best part is that he never asked to be given this power, he was just minding his own Aeons-damned business one day and found himself pinned underneath the immense, mercurial gaze of a laughing god. When an Aeon turns their eye to you, you don't get to say no.]

[So, yeah, no one ever tells you about how being an Emanator means that you're at the beck and call of some Aeon's capricious whims, or how they can just make your body do things regardless of whether you want to or not, pushing your own mind and will out of the way as easily as you might put a child in time-out. No one tells you about the stupid fucking dietary restrictions. That was a fun one to figure out! Congratulations, you're in possession of cosmic power and a manager from hell, and as an added bonus, all your meals have to be people-flavored from now on. Hope you like an all-liquid diet! Solid food now makes you hork your guts out and even anything liquid is pretty iffy. That cup of coffee every morning that you drink just to have even the slightest feeling of normalcy is a roll of the dice and half the time, you lose.]

[Is it any wonder why Sampo packed his bags and fled? Ran as far as he could get, to some little iceball planet in the ass-end of the galaxy that no one ever goes to? An Emanator, on the run from his own Aeon. Desperate to find any little corner of the galaxy that's outside of his Aeon's sight.]

[So far, he's been lucky. He hasn't felt the tug of his Aeon on his brain, demanding his return. He hasn't felt their fingers pulling his strings, pushing him down small in his own body to make way for their own will. Maybe, if he stays here long enough and keeps his head down, the Laughter will forget about him and turn their attention to some other poor bastard.]

[The dietary thing is still a little bit of a problem, though. Sampo tries to get around it as much as possible-- sometimes he's able to sneak into the hospital's blood bank in the Overworld and get his fix there. Sometimes Natasha can hook him up, in exchange for intel or medical supplies or some other thing that she needs. Sometimes, when things are really desperate, he has to hunt, and those are the worst nights. When he's hungry, skirting the knife edge of starvation, bad enough that his ability to function normally is taking a hit but not so far gone that he can't control himself. That's when he hits the streets with knock-out gas to find some poor unfortunate soul for dinner.]

[He doesn't kill them. He never kills them. He just... takes an unscheduled blood donation when they're out cold, then leaves them somewhere relatively warm with an aching neck and no memory of what happened. It's not great, sure, but it's better than savaging someone, right? No one really gets hurt.]

[Sampo is certain that the Silvermane guard have caught on to the fact that there's somebody knocking people out and leaving them woozy and confused, but he can't be sure how much else they know-- if they picked up on the blood loss, if they think he's a mugger who's just really bad at his job, or, who knows, some kind of pervert that gets off on knocking people out. But his goal is to just avoid ever having to find out what they think by never getting caught! Great plan. Sure to go smoothly.]

[snowshield]

[This is one of the stupidest things he's ever done. Not the stupidest, the stupidest is a high bar to clear, but definitely one of the stupidest things he's done. But the guard have caught wind of a string of assaults.

Strange assaults. Nothing obvious was taken besides maybe some petty cash? A small handful of Shield? (Later, Gepard would learn that some of the victims lied, but that's later - for now, he's inclined to believe them because otherwise there's a very strange person assaulting people for no apparent reason.) No rhyme or reason, besides the fact they're alone.

And he's the must stubborn of the Silvermane Guard and wouldn't ask someone else to take risks that he's sufficient enough to take himself. So.

So. Here he is. It's late. It's dark. Gepard's dressed down. Earthwork's nowhere to be seen, but that's fine, his fists are more than enough.

He's got a bottle of something-or-another he's drinking not quite enough, because even with the heaters, Belobog's cold. There's a chill that's seeping into his skin and into his muscles and Gepard sneezes. Sniffles. He misses his uniform. It's conspicuous, but also has layers and is built for the cold. His civilian clothes? Far less so.

But sometimes, you need to take a stroll of Belobog late at night trying to spot weird muggers to bring them to weirder justice, and he's doing just that.]

[ricochetlove]

[Sampo's on the prowl, and he's decided to take to the Overworld streets for his midnight snack this time around. Sometimes he'll stay in the Underworld, because the Silvermanes tend to be more protective upstairs than down below, but the Underworld is tight-knit-- harder to get away with things. It's a gamble whichever way he goes, really, but tonight is an upstairs night.]

[There's a man that he's been trailing for a while now, staying quiet and out-of-sight as he does. He's alone, which is certainly attractive for Sampo's purposes, and seems normal enough aside from the fact that he's a little under-dressed for the weather. Drinking something, too, which is a bit unappealing, Sampo tries to stay away from drunks. That's really the only way that he can get drunk anymore-- by cracking into somebody who's already got alcohol in their blood, and keeping a clear head is kind of important when he's on the hunt.]

[But he also hasn't seen any other viable targets, and he's getting too hungry to put off a blood meal for much longer. And he can't even break into the hospital for more blood bags to stave off the hunger pangs, because they're in a shortage after a bunch of guards got ambushed by some big Fragmentum monster and got themselves maimed.]

[So. Back to this guy.]

[They're getting into a pretty deserted part of the back alleyways of Belobog; people don't really live around here, businesses aren't open. Sampo picks up his pace, closing the distance gap between himself and his prey. In his pocket, he's got a few of his bombs ready, full of gas that will knock his unfortunate victim right out, leave him insensible while he gets what he needs from him. A way better modus operandi than trying to physically subdue his meals-- nothing good happens when someone tries to struggle while he's got his fangs in their neck.]

[All he has to do is get close enough, get the guy to stop walking for a second. There's an easy way to do that, and it's to call out--]

Hey, excuse me?

[Like he's just another normal civilian walking the streets.]

[snowshield]

[Now. Here he is. Gepard's long since started wondering if there's any point to him wandering the streets tonight. He knows there's a decent chance that nothing at all would happen - that the very bizarre thief might not be out tonight. He might be alone, continue to be alone, and would end the night utterly alone. The only thing he might accomplish is losing a few hours of sleep.

But then a voice calls out to him and Gepard hesitates. If he was wearing the Silvermane uniform he'd absolutely stop because this is someone who wants his attention, and he knows how to react when he's on duty. Gepard half-turns towards the voice, works hard to suppress every last fucking instinct in his body that tells him to serve and protect.]

Yes? [Not friendly, not...not friendly. Neutral; eager Silvermane instincts tempered with the fact he'd been gently freezing for the last whatever, honed to something blunter by the fact that this could just as easily be some random guy and the bizarre thief could be nowhere to be seen.]

terrible horrible no good very bad party

[snowshield]

[Gepard Landau did not want to attend the party. He really didn't. He tried very hard to come up with excuses- no, not excuses, reasons to not go. Good reasons. Good, solid reasons that would convince even the likes of his father. His return to the front lines got delayed. Not for long, only a day or two, and there was absolutely nothing that Gepard could do about that, so he...didn't bother attempting to do anything at all.

Serval had offered to let him hide out in her workshop, and Gepard had been tempted because they both hated the parties, but he pointed out that their parents would come after them regardless of what he did, and he'd be hiding on the front lines in a few days (and his sister made a face, clearly not liking it) which meant that their mother and father would just be seething impotently at a distance, wanting a heir, but unable to do anything about it. It was easier for the both of them this way - and Serval didn't like this either, and it was obvious, but she agreed. Reluctantly. Not exactly fine with this.

So, Gepard went to the manor home and had a not-entirely-unpleasant conversation with his mother, and hurried up to his childhood bedroom- not that he stayed there anymore, but it was easier to wear something thick on the streets and change into a dress uniform at the manor. And as he stared at the medals (he'd acquired them in the same way windows acquired a lining of frost) Gepard asked himself what it was he was doing and decided that what he was doing was making things easier for his sisters by having one of them discharge an obligation, and having the one who discharged the obligation being the guy who was away from Belobog for months on end. And that's all.

He fixed his hair. Then, Gepard looked in a mirror and immediately felt like a toy soldier marching on, someone pretending to be something that he's not. He tried fixing his hair and decided that it made him worse. He felt like a puppet danging from strings, dancing to someone else's whims. He looked like a boy, who thought he was a man. It was the dress uniform. Probably. Or maybe he was just anxious. (Don't ask him what he was anxious about...probably the pressure to give his family an heir, because one of them had to, and it was either going to be him or Lynx, maybe.)

There was music downstairs. Something light. Pastoral, badly fitting for the sort of planet which Belobog was, and Gepard missed being with his men.

But.

He has a duty. Or. Something. Or something. And so Gepard squares his shoulders, and unsquares his shoulders, and looks in the mirror, and adjusts his uniform one last time, resquares his shoulders, and then he descends somewhat fashionably late. Not too much, but a little. Politely late.

...and is almost immediately forced to meet someone-or-another, some girl with impeccable breeding and a long lineage, one who is dedicated to the path of the Architects, but that's fine, Gepard Landau definitely knows how to be professionally polite.]

[ricochetlove]

[Gepard has no way of knowing if tonight is a night that Sampo Koski decides that it's worthwhile to crash a Landau soiree. Sure, he'd said that the prize for their little game is so valuable that he couldn't afford to miss, but was he telling the truth? Was there really no other engagement that he might have that would take precedent over another fling with a guard captain?]

[Who knows? That's part of the game. Just like how Sampo wouldn't know if Gepard managed to excuse himself out of attending.]

[The party goes as expected. The ballroom is sumptuous. The canapes are tiny and intricate and the liquor costs more than an Underworlder's yearly salary. The band plays something sweet and pastoral, Gepard Landau enters the ballroom-- finely dressed, only slightly late, and almost immediately accosted by a potential wife candidate. Hand selected by his father, of course, some pretty thing of acceptable social stock. A fitting broodmare for Landau studding. It must be galling, for one's own father to pick out a bride with the same compassion and consideration that one would pick a horse to breed.]

[Gepard is speaking to one of those lucky little broodmares. Not the first, maybe, and certainly not the last. She's probably a lovely girl, really, with a sweet and gentle disposition, and might not have even made a bad wife, if all one cared about was pedigree and whether she'd be an inconvenient roommate. One of the waitstaff appears next to the good Captain, seemingly from thin air-- as good waitstaff do-- bearing a tray full of champagne flutes. The waiter is unremarkable in terms of his appearance, brown haired and forgettable as far as facial features go, and he offers flutes of champagne to both Gepard and his companion.]

[Because of how they are standing, when the waiter hands the glass to Gepard's potential suitress, his hand passes briefly in front of the good Captain's chest.]

[His duty fulfilled, the waiter unobtrusively slips away, leaving the two of them to their conversation. (His eyes are green, if Gepard happened to look closely enough.) A little later, Gepard might notice a missing weight on his chest-- a missing medal, one with a green ribbon.]

[The game's afoot, Geppie. Catch him if you can.]

[snowshield]

[Sampo might notice the precise moment Gepard realizes something's missing.

Gepard freezes in his tracks for a second too long, his gaze a little too distant. His mouth parts ever so slightly and he feels a fluttering in his chest - anticipation - and then Gepard gathers himself because the captain knows what happens next: he'll scour the crowds trying to find someone who doesn't quite fit in, or, someone who fits in a little too well, but-

Gepard Landau made a mistake.

And that mistake was that he froze in his tracks for a little too long and his gaze because a little too distant, and his mouth parted ever so slightly, and he did so while facing some women/potential additions to the Landau family/future mothers of his children.

Fuck fuck fuck. And now he's obligated to make some polite small talk. And if music starts playing, he'll probably have to ask a couple to dance.

Still, outwardly: he's the polite son of the Landau family.]

And how are you enjoying the party, miss...?

[The woman titters out some response. Gepard changes his tactics to scouring the crowd and trying to see someone who's fucking amused at his expense, because he sure feels like a fool right now.]

[ricochetlove]

[An amateur mistake, Gepard— these women are looking for a chance to be the next Landau bride, and you’re their only shot at it. Only one Landau bachelor to go around! They can practically smell weakness and are ready to pounce at any opportunity. And the moment that Gepard stops to scan the crowd is when they see their opening.]

[The good Captain is forced to deal with the woman’s tittering— the eldest daughter of a middling family, getting to the age where she must be paired off and hoping to make a social leap— and off somewhere in the crowd, a pair of green eyes watches him with amusement from near the band. Gepard could fight his way through Fragmentum monsters, could weather the worst of Jarilo-VI’s eternal winter, but he can’t escape the perfumed clutches of would-be brides.]

[Catch Sampo’s eye, Gepard, and he’ll give you a cheeky little wink.]

[And then he turns to say a few words to the band’s conductor. There might be a little money exchanged, maybe not, but right after he does, the band strikes up into dancing music, just a little early for this time of the evening. But who doesn’t love a little dancing? Certainly not Gepard, who would appear terribly rude if he didn’t take a lady or two for a spin around the dance floor.]

The Pirate and the Merman

[ricochetlove]

[So, in hindsight, Sampo probably should've gotten on a different boat.]

[But when you're a pirate trying to outrun the long arm of the law and avoid being hanged for a little bit of stealing from the Crown, you can't really be picky about these things! How was he supposed to know that the weather was going to turn so quickly? And that this particular ship wasn't at all prepared to endure such difficult seas? It's a mistake that anyone could've made if they were in the kind of hurry that he was.]

[When he's thrown from the deck towards the tumultuous, wine-dark water, all he can think of is that drowning is probably better than hanging.]

[The water is icy cold and everything is black as pitch except for brief, stark flashes of illumination from lightning; the waves are so fierce and tall that Sampo doesn't stand a chance against them, there's no use even fighting it. The ocean crashes down on him with the kind of weight that makes his bones creak from the pressure, forcing him down under the water while he tries to claw his way back to the surface. His lungs burn from the salt and from the fact that he's only ever able to get a few short, awful gasps of air before he's back underwater again.]

[He stands corrected-- drowning is worse than hanging.]

[Eventually, from exhaustion and confusion and probably a little bit of hypothermia, Sampo loses the fight to get back to the surface. Darkness crowds the edges of his vision, different from the darkness of the storm-- more than just an absence of light. His heart hammers, lungs ache, and he doesn't know which way he would even swim to try to continue this futile attempt to save himself. The surface might as well be a mile away.]

[He sinks, and loses consciousness.]

[snowshield]

[Now, there's- actually, there's several laws. A shit ton of laws. But there's a handful of laws in particular which are relevant to this situation. They are, in no particular order of importance:

• Never deny the ocean her due.
• Never let a human see you.
• If a human sees you beyond all doubt (no 'it's a large fish' or whatever, you know they saw you and can't make any plausible excuses) then eliminate the witness - it's awful, nobody likes murder, that's why avoiding humans in the first place is better for everyone involved. But there's stories about how eating pieces of mermaid can give immortality or the tears of a merman can heal all wounds, and things tend to end badly once humans know mers are around.

And there's other laws about various things (leaving whales alone at certain times of year so they can mate in peace, sustainable kelp farming, etc) but those don't matter as much.

All of this to say: Gepard knows his duty. He knows his duty. He knows what he should do, which is to let the ship sink, let everyone who will die...well. Die. It's unfortunate, it's sad, the sharks will eat the evidence, they will return to the ocean tides. And while Gepard is a soft touch in many personal things, professional is a different story.

He's a hardened warrior and a hardened guard and he knows his duty.

...despite this, he sees the body. He sees the telltale signs of movement, of something- look, he's swimming through the waters before he can stop himself, he doesn't have time for introspection. So all of this is also to say that as he's rescuing the...body, whomever it is, as he's rescuing the human, there's a part of Gepard that's saying, paraphrased, "What the fuck, I'm making such a fucking mistake, why am I doing this." Extremely paraphrased. (It's because he's a soft touch and doesn't like letting anyone die - human or otherwise - and this isn't the first time he tried to drag a body to the shore before it's too late.)

The human's probably running out of air, so Gepard- he can (and will) be embarrassed later about this, but he very pragmatically (shut up) shoves his lips against the human's own and starts very pragmatically breathing for him - Gepard's gills fluttering against the water as he drags the very heavy guy up and towards shore- there's a beach he likes to leave people off at. It's near a human settlement, kind of, and they play nice music.

He lurks under the docks of their harbor and listens to it, sometimes.

(He might be bad at keeping the laws in certain important respects, but it's not like anyone's seen him so it's fine.)]

[ricochetlove]

[Sampo doesn't really know much about what happens to him after he, you know, begins to drown in earnest-- just little flashes, moments without context. The feeling of hands against his skin, which felt very much human; then of scales, which very much did not. The relief of air in his lungs, even though there was still the cold weight of water all around him.]

[It's a dream. A nightmare, he'll wake up back in his warm bed in the Tavern and all of this will have just been a nightmare, there won't have been any ship or storm or drowning. It'll all just be a bad dream, and he'll laugh it off and go down for breakfast and everything will be fine--]

[He doesn't know how long he's in this in-between, barely conscious state, helpless in the grasp of a stranger.]

[He feels air against his face. Sand underneath his body, scraping him as he's dragged from the surf onto the beach. Seafoam swirls around his shoulders, then lower as he's moved further up the shore. He breathes in, then immediately breaks into an awful, wretching coughing fit and brings up saltwater. It burns all the way up, and he rolls onto his side in an uncoordinated sort of flop. When he opens his eyes, the saltwater burns them, too.]

[And before him is probably the most beautiful person he's ever seen in his life, and that assessment is only a little biased because of the fact that they probably saved his life.]

[Unfortunately, his introduction will have to wait until he's not hacking the sea out of his lungs.]

From BitCoin to bouquets

[ricochetlove]

[Sometimes, a guy just... gets tired of his current line of work. Sometimes he wants something new, to start over somewhere that no one knows him and his past decisions won't follow him.]

[Belobog was the perfect city for that, really. It's one of those northern cities that are kind of small as far as cities go, but all the more charming for it-- or maybe that's just Sampo. Maybe he just likes cities that are frozen for half the year and have a weird number of cultural dishes that involve rye and mayonnaise.]

[Regardless, Sampo left his life of overt white-collar fraud behind for snowier pastures and a little shop that sells flowers. Sure, maybe he'd originally opened it to launder his ill-gotten gains, but, like most of Belobog, he found that he... really kind of liked it. His customers are odd but nice, and the low-stakes world of flower arranging is surprisingly relaxing. Putting bouquets together is almost meditative. People come into his shop looking for something beautiful and leave it happily carrying off something colorful.]

[He does still trade in crypto, but that's legal! There's nothing to feel bad about.]

[And, bonus, a few doors down, there's a tattoo shop that has the cutest guy working there. A real tall, blond glass of water. Sometimes, Sampo stops in front of the window just to look in and watch him work, see his serious, stern expression as he tattoos something beautiful on a lucky customer. If Sampo weren't terrified of needles, he might have considered getting one just to have an excuse to flirt with him.]

[Instead, he watches him sometimes from the window and sells his flowers and sometimes hangs out with his doctor friend. Lives a quiet life.]

[snowshield]

[If he'd been asked if he had expected to be a tattoo artist, Gepard would've said no. He'd- well. There's no sense in thinking about what would've, could've been if things had been a little bit different. What mattered was the life he lived right now.

And it wasn't a bad life? Surprisingly quiet. But steady. Day in and day out, he tattooed art onto people. Daggers, swords, names, a signature from a loved one - Gepard had smiled as he had gotten that request - a splash of color, a favorite animal, a favorite character.

And sometimes, flowers. When he was really lucky. It was a secret, but they were some of Gepard's most favorite things to draw. He'd gotten a request involving them, actually, something involving poppies and 'a butterfly or maybe a moth?' and was trying to think of ways to pose it ahead of the consult, and there was the flower shop and Gepard Landau found himself wondering...

...what if he got some flowers for himself? Or the shop? Maybe that'll help with laying it out in his head. (Or maybe he just wanted flowers.)

So, with an impulse, Gepard found himself walking in- but that's fine. He doesn't need to be at the shop for another hour.]

Hello?

[...who worked here, anyway?]

[ricochetlove]

Just a second!

[Sampo was in the back when Gepard walked in; it's just after opening, and he still has a few late shipments of flowers to put away. When he makes it back to the front counter a minute or so later, he has a bunch of roses tucked into the crook of his arm, destined for the front displays.]

[Oh. It's Cute Blond, standing there in his shop. When Sampo had pictured introducing himself to Cute Blond, it had been in a cooler situation than this-- he would go into the guy's parlor, maybe, looking cool and put together and maybe wearing a leather jacket, and book an appointment for a tattoo while flirting with him in a very suave and charming way. He would definitely not have been standing in his shop wearing his florist apron that has a big stain down the front from spilling something on himself that one time and a shirt that has roses on it and says I'm used to dealing with pricks and he'd forgotten to do his hair this morning because he was running late. He's wearing his comfy jeans, the ones that do his ass no favors but are well-worn and comfortable. He looks like a dweeb. An absolute dork. Cute Blond is so going to think he's uncool, this is the worst.]

[Okay. Okay, he's probably totally ruined his chances with Cute Blond by being a dweeb, but he can't be a dweeb and a shitty salesman. He puts a smile on his face and relegates mourning his failed love life to a later time.]

Sorry for the wait! What are you looking for today?

The amazing Dadpard

[ricochetlove]

[Let it never be said that Sampo isn't a busy man!]

[Being a Fool is a full-time job on its own, what with all of the political upheavals and general tomfoolery that he has to get up to, and then there was that whole thing with the Trailblazer and the Astral Express that Sampo obviously had to tag along for. A man gets a little caught up in his work sometimes, and sometimes that means that he's away from home for a while. An extended business trip! That's basically what this has been, just an extended business trip away from his pretty little iceball of a planet.]

[But now Sampo's done with his business and gets to go back home. Back to Belobog, back to his Winterland, back to the planet that he'd worked so hard to secure a better future for. Back to the city that has Gepard Landau in it. Since Sampo's been off-world, Gepard must have been so bored and lonely! There's been no one for him to chase after, no blue-haired scoundrel running petty scams and fleecing relics. But now that Sampo's back, they'll be able to pick right back up with their games of cat-and-mouse.]

[Or they would, if the person who had chased Sampo through the streets for his old arrest warrants wasn't very much not Gepard Landau. And when Sampo had asked him where the good Captain was, he'd gotten an answer that he very much didn't like.]

[Sampo had smoke-bombed the not-Captain Landau into unconsciousness and ended the chase. If it isn't Gepard, it's just not worth the trouble.]

[But if Gepard isn't Captain Landau anymore, where is he?]

[snowshield]

[...he'd moved from the Administrative District to a larger apartment closer to the outskirts of Belobog- not to the point in which it's run down, but somewhere quieter. Less away from whatever counts as action in Belobog. It's a nice place. Large. His inheritance (as on one hand, he had resigned from the Silvermane Guard, but on the other hand, he'd done his duty and sired a child, and on the other hand his parents wanted to see their grandchild and seemed to think money would bring him back into the fold) plus what money he made at his job paid for utilities.

He'd researched schools and found the best one to send Lily to. One that wouldn't pay attention to the fact that she was a Landau - she went by her mother's family name, Lily Bellanger, and Gepard had briefly considered changing his name to Bellanger out of respect for her mother, but his sisters had both talked him out of it. And he had agreed. Gepard Bellanger sounded-

Not. No.

...it was a peaceful life he had settled into. Quiet. Like his sister Serval, he had failed at living up to the Landau duties, which meant all of his parents' hopes and dreams rested on Lynx. But it wasn't bad. Just. Sedate. Peaceful. But not much happened when your job was selling books. (This was Pela's doing. He tried bartending and broke two glasses, and she suggested something less...challenging.)

A peaceful life. Quiet. In fact, he was about to pick up a treat for his daughter (she'd done so well on an exam, and he wanted to spoil her) when he turned a corner, blanched, made a noise, and then immediately un-turned that corner and went back in the direction he came from, no, bye, his mind's working, there has to be an alternate direction he can take, he needs to avoid that guy, he's a civilian, he's got a family, no, no, no, absolutely not.]

[ricochetlove]

[There's a moment when Sampo's just idly walking the streets, trying to wrap his brain around the idea of Captain Landau not being around to chase him-- is he out on leave? Injured, maybe?-- when he sees a brief flash of blond and white that disappears around a corner. It's exactly the same kind of blond and white that he saw on every chase he'd had through these streets, just the other way around, and it attracts his gaze as surely as a magnet to iron.]

[It might be Gepard, or, maybe, it might just be someone who looks like him. There's always the possibility that he's mistaken, however small. Either way, Sampo can't ignore the retreating figure.]

[He follows, but not the way that Gepard would follow-- Gepard would barge after him like a bull that just caught a glimpse of red, barreling along the path with singleminded focus. Sampo gets up onto the rooftops and follows with a little distance, stalks after the fleeing figure like a serpent hunting after prey. This isn't their usual way of doing things, with Sampo being the pursuer, but there still is a thrill to the chase.]

[With the advantage of height, Sampo can catch sight of his quarry quite quickly, and shadows his steps.]

[Is it him? Is it him? But why would he have fled, if it is? Gepard doesn't run from him-- he always ran towards, usually yelling about arrest warrants.]

[He's so sure that it's him, even though the figure's face is away from him and he can't see it. But he would know Gepard Landau in total darkness, were Gepard mute and Sampo deaf. So why is he running? And where is he going? All questions that Sampo can't leave alone.]