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12 October 2011 @ 09:52 am
FIC: The Kebab Killer, Chapter four – Sticks and Stones  
Author: Osiris Brackhaus
Story Title: The Kebab Killer
Part: 5/10 (wip)
Rating: R
Configuration M/M
Warnings: violence, angst, borderline fairytale romance
Word Count: 4.700 / 25.000
Setting: 'Phoenix Empire' verse, see Phoenix Empire Timeline & Index
Characters: Sam/Yaden
Summary: A random encounter triggers more unexpected behaviour in Yaden…
Feedback: Yes, please!

“Oh good Lord,” Sam gasped between bouts of irrepressible laughter. “That was the most adorkable thing I have ever seen.”

“What!?” Yaden exclaimed, also laughing and just a little defiant. “I told you I can't dance. At least not like that!”

Instead of an answer, Sam grabbed his lover's face and kissed him. They were sweaty, tired and exhausted, standing out on the street in the gentle cool drizzle, but they were feeling blissfully happy.

The entrance to the 'dance club' they had just left was nothing more than a dark gap in the building behind them, the thumping rhythms from below muted but still loud enough to be felt through the soles of Sam's shoes. Above them, the tall, forbidding towers of Ridge rose into the late night sky, dark and reflecting, and a light drizzle was falling. A perfect night out in Imperial City.

“I know what you said,” Sam replied when they finally separated, calmer now but still grinning widely. “But I really didn't think it would be that bad.”

“Pah.” Blinking up into the patch of sky above then, Yaden searched if he could see the first sign of dawn already. “We really should be getting home. I'm supposed to be on the market in a few hours.”

Calmly, Sam nodded.

It had been a fool's idea anyway to close the Kebab Shack earlier today and go dancing. Actually, it had been Father Rudger's idea, but then again, he was a little on the odd side himself.
The Aroona priest had been livid with anger about the treatment Yaden had encountered at the psions' guild, and had more than eagerly provided the necessary paperwork to prove that Yaden was by no means possessed by a demon. More than that, he also had promised to have a stern talking to the guild, and to arrange for Yaden's registration to be processed properly and without any further visits. Father Rudger had been positive that Yaden was a psychic, but also that the memory loss was severe and beyond his own meagre healing skills. They would have to seek audience at the main temple one of these days, but Rudger had insisted on talking to his fellow clerics to get them a proper contact.

Sam wasn't too sure if it all would help, but the Aroona were a group not lightly angered. At least, he was not too worried any more that a bunch of psychics would suddenly show up and abduct his lover.

Thinking of Yaden made him remember the other man's clueless but very lively performance on the dance-floor, renewing the smile on his face.

Instead of any kind of proper payment, Father Rudger had insisted that they needed a healing experience, and basically ordered them to go out for a beer and a dance. Considering that the sun was about to come up any time now, it had been a good idea, and a well-deserved and needed distraction from the chaos of the last days.

“What about we take a short-cut over the catwalks?” Sam suggested, pointing at the network of walkways and bridges that connected the skyscrapers with each other. “I know a short-cut that would lead us right to Nesrin Towers Station, and from there we can catch a tram directly back Downtown.”

“You sure?” Yaden asked, still moving to the memory of music in his ears. “It's a maze up there, I surely wouldn't know how to get anywhere.”

“Well, there IS an advantage in dating a DC officer,” Sam replied with a smirk. “I've been on patrol almost everywhere here, and believe me, if nothing else, I know my way around this town.”

In reply, Yaden smiled fondly at his lover, and gestured Sam to lead the way, while he was still silently dancing tiny, barefooted steps to some music audible to his ears only.
The two men silently made their way along the dark and badly lit road along the building, until Sam had found the staircase he had been looking for. The catwalks were a network of bridges, ramps and roof terraces that connected the countless skyscrapers of Ridge with each other, just a few stories above ground. They allowed pedestrians to get from one place to another without being forced to go down onto the narrow, dirty streets brimming with heavy vehicles. During daytime, shops and offices opened along the catwalks, turning them into some kind of wide-spread mall. But even at night they were a perfectly neat, clean and well-lit way of getting from A to B, provided one knew where to find the next proper connection.

Getting up onto the catwalks wasn't easy, as stairs outside the buildings leading down to street level were rare, but as he had said, Sam's job wasn't without its perks. Soon, they were up on what looked like a long, well-lit balcony, with Yaden still stepping in tune with some unheard melody. Sam was just about to tell Yaden to stop dawdling as the other man suddenly stepped sideways in what looked decidedly like a well-rehearsed classic dance move.

“Look at this!” Yaden exclaimed, eager with excitement. “It wasn't me, it was the music! The music was wrong!”

“Dear, you are making no sense...”

“I knew I could dance, I always felt it in me. But the music was wrong.” Now smiling widely, Yaden came up to his lover, holding out his hands in a classic gesture. “May I ask for this dance, milord?”

“Huh?” Sam guffawed, struggling between joy at Yaden having found something he remembered and the deep irritation that it was obviously frilly ballroom-style dancing. Not a skill any commoner should have, really. But the joy won out almost instantly, and a little confused, Sam tried to figure out how to hold his own hands when he wasn't leading. “Like that?”

“No, wait.” With only a heartbeat’s hesitation, Yaden adjusted Sam's stance. “Here.”

And suddenly, with hardly any effort, Yaden led them both into a gentle waltz along the catwalk, gleaming with excitement at his newly remembered skill.

“You're really good at this,” Sam said softly, gentle disbelief in his voice. “I only ever dance like this at the police ball, and even then I try to avoid it if I can.”

“Nah, I am just warming up.” Yaden replied with a wriggle of his eyebrows, and suddenly stepped up the speed, pulling Sam in a series of elegant spins, twirling both of them around a corner of the walkway.
Giving a startled laugh, Sam tried to keep up, but he was definitely out of his depths. Soon enough, he stumbled over his own feet, falling and pulling Yaden with him. Now both laughing loudly, they remained lying in a tangled heap on the floor, happy and cuddling like they were all alone. Which, given the early hour, probably even was the case.

“I love you,” Sam whispered gently once they had calmed down a little. “But it's still raining, and we really should be getting home.”

Yaden replied with a chuckle and a soft kiss on Sam's forehead.

“Love you, too.” Getting up, he shook his head. “Ballroom dancing. Why in all the Empire would I know anything about that?”

“No idea at all.” Gathering himself up from the ground as well, Sam looked around, trying to figure out the shortest way towards Nesrin Towers and the eponymous tram station. “Maybe you had 'aspirations of grandeur' in your former life?”

“God forbid!” Yaden exclaimed, only half mocking. “I don't want to come any closer to a noble than having the emperor's portrait hanging over my shop's door.” Gently sneaking his arm around Sam's waist, he hugged him tight. “Being with you is all I ‘aspire’ to.”

Unable to find anything adequate to reply to this, Sam merely drew Yaden closer, kissing his hair, misted with the fine drizzle. Fugitive psychic or not, this was the man he would spend the rest of his life with, Sam reminded himself once again. Even if he just barely fits under my chin.

For a while, they walked in amiable silence, arm in arm, along the deserted catwalks. It was a lovely night, and even the fine rain seemed to belong into the picture. Just a pair of lovers, walking through the capital at night, like the last frame of some cheesy romance movie.

They had already covered a little more than half their way to the tram station when Yaden suddenly grabbed Sam's arm and stopped both of them at a corner.

“Something's wrong,” he whispered urgently, looking around as if expecting to see armed terrorists somewhere hiding in a dark corner.

“Darling, what - “ Sam tried to ask, but was cut short by an oddly sharp gesture from his lover, motioning him to stay silent.

Instead of trying to argue, Sam shrugged inwardly. Maybe Yaden's talent wasn't limited to telekinesis. Maybe he was also an oracle, or telepathic. Or maybe he was just tired and overwrought and urgently needed a good night's sleep.
Whatever the cause, Sam silently looked around, trying to help figure out whatever his lover thought was amiss. There was little to see, an open square ahead, lots of railings, some stairs and skyscrapers rising above and below them to infinity. The two round, white-and-blue-lit Nesrin Towers were already visible as a narrow band of light between the buildings ahead, but so far, so normal.

“Over there,” Yaden whispered only seconds later. “Across the square, the lit store-front.”

Sam followed Yaden's gesture, and sure enough, there was a line of brightly lit windows a little ahead of them, overlooking the Square they had been about to cross. Large canvasses were hanging on display in the windows, and behind them, Sam could see people moving, commoners, by the clothes they were wearing.
At first, it looked like a late party in one of the local galleries, but then Sam also noticed how small and stressed the movements of those guests were, and finally he spotted an arm in dark combat fatigues holding what unmistakeably looked like a machine gun, pointing at the guests.

“Good Lord,” Sam whispered between his teeth without taking his eyes of the heist-in-progress right in front of them. “How'd you notice that?!”

“No idea.”

Standing close to the wall, they were all but invisible from inside the gallery, and yet Sam found himself protectively moving between Yaden and some potential attacker.

Looking closer, it was obvious that a group of late-night vernissage guests were held hostage by a handful of dark-clad thugs, probably being robbed.

“We have to do something.” Yaden suddenly said softly. “We can't just stand by.”

If Yaden hadn't been here, that would have been Sam's whole-hearted opinion, too. But things being as they were, he had other priorities than saving innocent citizens of the empire. He had one very special innocent citizen to protect.

So instead of clipping on his energy-shield and storming the place, he just fumbled his cell-phone out of his pocket.

“Of course we'll do something,” he said while dialling the DC emergency hotline, trying to muffle the beeping sounds a well as he could with his jacket. “I'll call reinforcements, and then we'll stay well away from anything that - “

“No.” Yaden softly said, staring around the corner. There was an edge to his voice that Sam hadn't heard before, except maybe in Reichenbach's room at the psions' guild. And it wasn't a tone Sam liked to hear. “We can't just stay by and watch while they gun down all those people.”

“But there's nothing we can do.” Sam tried to explain urgently while waiting for someone to pick up his call. “Look, we're both unarmed, and you have no combat experience, and we really – Yes? Yes, Officer Balmoral here, I have a code four-four-seven, requesting immediate assistance.”

Waiting for the guy on the other end of the line to type down the appropriate notes, Sam watched in wordless stupefaction as Yaden slid around the corner they had been hiding behind, sneaking across the square towards the entrance of the gallery. His bare feet weren't making any sound on the moist concrete ground, and he moved as if he had been doing this all his life, hiding behind planters and benches so efficiently that Sam had a hard time keeping track of him.

“Yaden!” he hissed into the night, but his lover didn't even look back. Only then he realized that the guy on the other end of the line was still talking to him. “What?! No. Hurry, there's some civilian trying to be a hero. Dammit, just get someone to pinpoint my position and then 'port the damn troops here!”

With deep sigh and a nervous flutter in his chest, Sam jammed the cell-phone back into his pocket, searching the square for his lover. Maybe it wasn't too late, yet.

But apparently, he wasn't that lucky tonight.

Much to his despair, he found his beloved kebab-shack owner standing right in the middle of the gallery's entrance, both hands raised and talking. Across the square, Sam couldn't make out what Yaden was saying, but actually, that was one of his smallest concerns right now.

Realizing he had run out of options, Sam reached for the small shield projector he was carrying on his wrist like a good-luck bracelet. He started to run towards the gallery, and sighed with relief as he felt the familiar, soft touch of static envelope him. The tiny battery wouldn't last long, but for the time being, it would be very hard to harm him with anything below a military-grade blaster rifle. Which, hopefully, had not been on the thugs’ equipment list tonight.

Ahead of him, he could see Yaden move further into the gallery, and he could he people shouting. Shouting was better then shooting, but still far from good.

He crossed he last meters in a rush and stormed into the well-lit gallery. Years of training kicked in and took over his reflexes, and it just took him half a heartbeat to scan the room.

A huddled mass of civilians at the far wall.
Yaden, his hands raised defensively, two armed men with guns in front of him.
Another dark-clad thug, right next to the entrance, less than half a step away from Sam.
Holding a small machine gun like it was a power drill.

It didn't take any time for Sam to decide where to get his weapon from. Instead, he used the remaining momentum of his run to slam into the thug at the door, grabbing his gun and holding it tight. With the man dazzled by the unexpected impact, Sam let himself drop onto the floor and to the right, twisting the gun out of the thug's hand.

Without a shield, such a manoeuvre would have been suicidal, but right now, Sam knew he had still a few seconds of relative invulnerability left.

If the thug pulled the trigger or if Sam accidentally did it himself was moot point. Whatever the cause, he hardly registered the impact, the shield taking any kinetic energy out of the bullets until they had about the force of a handful of peas thrown at him.

A second later, he was up on his feet again, slamming the rear end of the gun into the thugs face with enough force to hear the wet crunch of breaking bones. The man was out cold, but Sam was already turning around to see how he could help Yaden in his miserable situation.

Only that Yaden's situation seemed to be all but miserable right now.

Of the two men who had been facing him, one was kneeling right in front of Yaden, holding his hands as if in unimaginable pain. The other one was just raising his rifle, aiming at Yaden, as a sudden gesture of Sam's lover sent his gun flying across the room. With a yell of surprise, the thug tried to hurl himself at Yaden, but was stopped dead in his tracks by a mere gesture. With nothing but a flick of his wrist, Yaden hurled the man across the room against a wall, where he remained, spread-eagled in an improbable position, glued to the wall like a fly to duct tape.

Nothing of this made any real sense to Sam, but all his questions would have to wait until this was over. After all, Yaden seemed to work with a certain, completely inappropriate professionalism, and there were other, much more pressing matters at hand.

Matters like thugs number four and five, who had apparently been guarding the rear entrance and were now storming into the room, trying to find out what was happening. Unfortunately, they were coming out of a hallway right behind Yaden's back, and aiming their guns at him almost instantly.

Sam didn't even think. The gun in his hands wasn't any of the weapons he had been trained with, but he was still a sufficiently good shot with it at such a short distance.
The two last robbers died in an automatic blast of bullets that painted the wall behind them in a violent red spray. Daring such a robbery without energy-shields was a risky business, after all.

“Yaden, are you all right?!” Sam asked first thing as no more attackers showed up.

“I... I am unhurt.”

His lover's voice sounded shaky, and it was filled with so much insecurity that it pained Sam more than he would have thought possible. Yaden was still standing there with his hands raised, but now that Sam had time for a second glance, he realized that Yaden's hands were not raised in defence.
Actually, their gestures matched the postures of the thugs he had been facing, one crumbled on the ground, the other one flat against the wall, immobilized. Sam had no knowledge of the particulars of psionic powers other than what he had learned in threat-assessment class, but he was very sure that his lover's style was something that hadn't been mentioned.

“It'll be all right, love.” Sam said, trying to sound as confident as he could. Obviously, Yaden hardly understood what he was doing himself and was in dire need of a hug, but that would have to wait until this was over. “It'll be all right.”

Swiftly, Sam checked the two adjoining rooms for any more attackers, but as it seemed there had only been five of them. Relief flooded through him, and he walked over to the one thug kneeling in front of Yaden, who was still gently rocking back and forth in pain. Looking for a way to restrain the man until the reinforcements arrived, Sam suddenly felt the soft mental disorientation that he had learned was normal when a psychic 'hijacked' his sensory input to prepare a teleport.

Less than a heartbeat later, the floor around him started glowing red with projected 'porting circles, warning everyone in the vicinity of an incoming teleport. And merely another heartbeat later, all those circles were filled with DC officers in their grey and purple combat armour, arms ready, securing the whole room in less time than it took the commoners present to realized the police had arrived. Almost two dozen men and women in purple uniforms, each one of them as calm and professional as possible.

Hardly ever before had Sam been that proud to be member of the best-trained and best equipped security force of the whole Empire. Definitely, there were perks in dating a Ducal Crescents officer.

“All clear!” Sam yelled instantly, just trying to make sure there would be no unfortunate misunderstandings. “Secure perimeter!”

As if having trained exactly this scenario a hundred times before, most of the DCs swarmed out of the room, leaving only a handful of men. With a swift gesture, Sam pointed out the two thugs who had been held by Yaden and the third one he had beaten unconscious. Instantly, some officers were at their sides, tying them down and making sure they wouldn't be going anywhere for a long time to come.

“Officer Balmoral,” one of the DCs said firmly, tipping the side of his helmet. “Everything all right?”

“Yes, yes, I think so.” Another wave of relief ran through Sam, right as he felt the static of his shield fizzle and run off him. “But I think you should have a look at my partner...”

Looking around, Sam tried to find Yaden in the chaos of relieved commoners and grey-armoured DCs. But apparently, his lover had managed to sneak out of the room once the police had arrived. A remarkable feat on its own, but rather worrying considering the shock and confusion Yaden had been in.

“Never mind, Captain... Peters.” Sam tried to lie as smoothly as possible. “He'll be somewhere here, I am sure.”

But Yaden didn't show up until Sam's colleagues were done taking their notes and making Sam promise he would show up the very next day down at the precinct to give his report. Of course he promised, but the only thought on his mind was that he had no clue where to find Yaden.

His only hope was that Yaden had gone to the only place he felt safe at; to the only place they both had been happy.

He hoped that Yaden had gone home.


“Oh good Lord, here you are!”

It had taken Sam some time to get rid of his colleagues trying to help him find his missing lover. In the end, they had contented giving him a lift back to Downtown.

Finding Yaden's wet clothes in a messy pile in his room had been an immeasurable relief to Sam already, but it had still taken him quite some time to figure out where his lover was actually hiding. Only when Sam had noticed that the small roof window over the stairs that led from the kitchen to their bedroom was standing wide open, he had gotten the idea.

Climbing up to the roof wasn't exactly easy for someone with shoulders as wide as Sam's, but it hadn't been a real hindrance, either.

And there, sitting on the glossy rooftop amid patches of moss, looking down at the Empire's capital, he had found Yaden under a large umbrella against the soft rain, his knees pulled up, huddled around a bottle of really expensive Shirazan eau-de-vie.

Without a word, Sam climbed up the roof and sat down next to Yaden. Behind them, the sky was already turning grey with the first light of dawn, and the air was carrying that distinct chill that came with the late hour and a night without sleep.

Yaden had chosen a beautiful place for his musings, Sam had to admit as they sat there, none of them exactly sure of what to say.

Downtown was high up on a slope, nestled against the fortified outer walls of the Imperial Palace, and the view down from the roof of the Kebab-Shack was spectacular. The Nesrin Towers in Ridge were two gleaming exclamation marks against the dark sky of the late night to their right. Straight ahead, the small waves of the bay reflected the moonlight, and behind that, there was the pitch-black strip of the Undercity. The gaudily lit ferris-wheel of the Amadeus Memorial Park was visible from here, and even the gold and rose domes of the Old Opera could be seen as a smudge of light on the rain-washed horizon. To their left, the embassies of the noble houses were gleaming on their high cliff, trying to outshine each other like they did every night.

“I am so afraid.” Yaden said finally, looking at Sam for the first time since he had come up onto the roof.

“Of what?”

“I... I love you.”

“And that scares you?”

“No, you idiot!” Yaden underlined his reply with a deft smack against Sam's shoulder. “I am happy with you, very happy.”

“So what's wrong?”

Yaden hesitated a moment before he answered. “I don't want to be some dangerous killer-psychic.”

“But you aren't -”

“Oh please, Sam! I know you want this as little as I do, but seriously. Those little things that come up, those few things I remember – it's pretty bad.”

For a moment, Sam was struggling to find anything appropriate to say. He knew Yaden was right, he knew he had tried so hard to tell himself everything would be fine, that he had wilfully ignored what had happened around him.

“Maybe,” he finally replied. “But I won't let any of this get between us. I love you, too, you know?”

With a soft, sad chuckle, Yaden dropped his head against Sam's shoulder.

“I know you do. But will I still love you when I remember? I don't like that person that I apparently was before I lost my memories. Everything I remember makes me wish I hadn't.”

“It can't be that bad.”

“You think?” Yaden all but snorted in disgust. “Take tonight. I was holding those two men by their fucking bones, and it was easy. Throwing one of them across the room didn't take much more effort for me than moving my hand. And I knew how to fight with those powers I have. That wasn't the first time I fought, and I felt entirely safe. I still remember thinking that those guns couldn't hurt me, because they use metal bullets and I would be able to stop them before they could harm anyone.” Giving a deep sigh, Yaden took Sam's hand, holding it tightly. “Whatever I was before I came here, I damn sure as hell was not working in a fast-food-restaurant.”

“Why not? Maybe that was your day job.” Sam tried to suggest, half-joking. “Maybe you were some kind of agent for the psions' guild, or a member of the Imperial Special Forces, something like that.”

“I don't think so.” Yaden said with another mirthless chuckle. “And you know why I think I can be sure of that? Remember my 'secret' spice rub, the one in the box labelled 'secret spice rub'?”

“Sure. It's one of the many reasons your shop is going as well as it is.”

“Exactly. And even after tasting it and trying for more than a week now, I have no clue what's in there. I bet my arm it's not made of anything I have down in the kitchen.”

“Maybe it's just some pre-made stuff you buy on the bazaar and just put it into another box here.”

“Whatever it is, Sam, I am afraid of my life here being nothing but a lie.”

Was it really, Sam wondered silently. Because, all that was left of Yaden with all his memories gone had been the sweet, caring, naughty guy he had fallen in love with in the first place. Maybe it had been Yaden's old life that had been a lie all over.

“I can understand that you're worried, but I am not afraid.” Gently stroking Yaden's hair, Sam smiled softly. “You love me, don't you?”

“Sure, that's part of the problem.”

“Then that's one thing that's not a lie.” Sam's smile widened as Yaden looked up, still tired and worn-out but with a tiny hopeful smile of his own. “And that's the most important thing. All else, we can manage. Together.”

“I hope you are right.” Silently, he took another long sip out of the bottle of Shirazan brandy he had been cradling. “I really hope you are.”

“I am, trust me.” Taking the bottle Yaden offered him, Sam took a sip as well, shuddering at the burning in his throat. “And there is one more thing I am very certain of.”

Yaden looked up again, curious.

“I am very certain that we have to get off this roof, pretty as the view may be.” Sam grinned at Yaden's exasperated grimace. “We're both cold and tired, and we can't sleep up here. And we really should get some sleep before we go to the market tomorrow.”

“Today, you mean...”

“Whatever.” Smiling gently, he stood up, holding out his hand to his lover. “Come on, dangerous killer-psychic of my life. I need to get out of these clothes and into your bed.”

“Oh, I'll gladly help you with that,” Yaden replied, his eye finally gleaming again with that dirty edge that Sam had missed so much. “And maybe you'll even get some sleep later on...”

idolme922idolme922 on October 12th, 2011 03:42 pm (UTC)
Hmmm, well, seems like Yaden is starting to remember something. Ballroom dancing has to be major hint of some kind! Dancing, thunder, the list is growing. Can't wait to see what happens with these two. I love seeing the city through their eyes, and yours. It's crystal clear and is certainly a character in this story as much as the two men.

Thanks for a great update!
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 13th, 2011 05:23 am (UTC)
Damn, and I thought the military training was the major hint in this chapter! :D

And yes, we have so many stories taking place in Imperial City that it's a pretty much fully realized place by now.

Thanks for commenting!
peony_blackpeony_black on October 12th, 2011 06:06 pm (UTC)
Whatever he is, Yaden is no commoner. If anything, he feels more like a leader than a follower.

Kind and supportive Sam may be overly optimistic - love makes you blind and all that. I don't think they're gonna have it that easy...

Thank you for the lovely, intriguing update!
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 13th, 2011 05:25 am (UTC)
Yup, I think it can be safely established that Yaden isn't a commoner. But more about that in the next chapter. ^^

Poor Sam, trying so hard to keep his dream alive. He's still in for some major changes in his life.

Thanks so much for taking the time to read and comment!
BerthaBlueberthablue on October 13th, 2011 12:29 am (UTC)
It must be so weird to know so little about oneself! I love the way you're drawing this out, drawing us in... I can't wait to find out what Yaden's life was like before - whether he gets his memories back or finds out from other sources!
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 13th, 2011 05:27 am (UTC)
I think the question is less 'by whom' he gets his memories back, but in which order - the ones that make sense first or the ones that don't? ^^

Thanks so much for commenting!
littlenilittleni on October 15th, 2011 07:49 am (UTC)
Yaden's triggers are very intresting. From something so innocent as dancing music to something you would not expect to be instinctual, combat/defensive moves in a hostage situation.
"Dangerous killer-psychic of my life". What a great line!
Sam appears to be handling this fairly well, but he must have a point where he cracks under the uncertainty.
If I had to guess, I would say that Yaden is a man who solves 'problems' for people, someone you go to when you can't solve the problem with legal means. As for the ballroom dancing, well everyone has to have a hobby, don't they?
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 15th, 2011 12:10 pm (UTC)
Well, we still have to see where Sam's breaking point is, or if he has one. There's still some more surprises on the way.

And about Yaden's pre-kebab profession - you're spot on right with one part of your assumption, and completely wrong with another. ^^

And oddly enough, the ballroom dancing was part of his job.
littlenilittleni on October 15th, 2011 02:43 pm (UTC)

*punches fist in air*

Now to work out which part is wrong....
triptyxtriptyx on October 17th, 2011 05:33 pm (UTC)
dangerous killer-psychic :D :D :D

Heee I truly am looking forward to knowing who exactly Yaden is!!! :)
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 18th, 2011 03:52 am (UTC)
Well, I think WHO he is we already know, but the WHAT will be very interesting. Only six more days, then you'll start getting answers.
hab318princess on October 26th, 2011 08:28 pm (UTC)
so intriguing... really enjoying it
osirisbrackhausosirisbrackhaus on October 27th, 2011 06:41 am (UTC)
You're most welcome, dear. Thanks for taking the time to read and comment!