Magnum Bullets

His brows scrunched as he moved along the brush and brambles, figure blending into the surrounding soft snow that had fallen during the day and had been trampled since by soldiers and civilians alike. His tongue trailed along the contours of his teeth as he thought about heading toward one of the local pubs, craving the light burn of a cocktail he rarely succumbed to but as of late it was becoming all the more tempting. He heard liquor could wash every worry away, dull a mind and he could use plenty of dulling but there was another reason he turned his steps toward such a place. Apparently, the woman that gave him rank had a brother who had returned from the jails of his birthplace, one with an even higher rank. Rumor had floated around it had only raised higher since his return and the young lieutenant saw it as a possible opportunity to find a cozy balance with the man.

If he played his cards right, perhaps he could be rising in rank far faster than if he remained a heel of lower wolves.

Entering the little tavern that seemed not as frequented as the higher-class pubs, it brought a mild sense of relief that fewer drunken eyes would be around him though it would hardly drown out the sound of their voices. A breath out flared the air to become visible as cold and hot clashed, the door fell behind him as he clicked along the wooden floors instantly cutting some of the wind. It didn't take long to find a man of high standing, only knowing his face in passing prior to the capture. This might be a futile exchange as he observed the glasses before moving next to the man who looked like utter shit now. He remembered him having a charming face before but now it seemed one only a mother could love, not that it would affect his approach.

At least he hadn’t heard a lick of anyone mention his father being a traitor since he entered but the heat of eyes seemed to burn into his flank yet again as if living in Yorkshire for nearly two years couldn’t wash his scent away. It had only gotten worse since the war concluded and it caused his muscles to grow tense around any glares that dug under his skin. He liked to believe it was just because he was a soldier hostility threatened his every movement, though he would not choose to be blind to the truth.

“I hope you don’t mind a little company, sir,” the words fell from his lips calmly, respect smooth as velvet unlike his thoughts that only seemed to grow harsher the longer he took him in. As he took a seat within proximity to the larger male, it would dawn on him he didn’t know a lick about alcohol or what anything was called. His gaze stayed fixed on the bartender rather than Kenzo, anticipating him to answer but also open for the army vet to entertain him as well. “Got any recommendations?”

Art by Ulfarna | Coding by Plymouth

He sat at the bar, again. A drink rested in front of him, half drank, unlike the first cup he had. It was easier here, this way. When he got home, Adeline would be asleep and his thoughts would be dulled enough that maybe, if he got lucky, he'd fall asleep. Since returning home, settling back in hadn't gone as smoothly as he had hoped. His injuries healed under the near constant attention of a medic and he was already well into putting weight back on. With his coat clean, not a trace of blood staining it, he looked more like himself. Aside from the scar than ran down the side of his face and the tension that lurked in his hard gaze.

The new rank of Colonel hung heavily around his neck. His promotion was a blur, the ceremony, the party after. Vaguely, he recalled smiling, visiting with family and friends, acting normal. But there was discontent brewing, it festered under his skin. None of them knew. Adeline was guessing, trying to drag the answers from him, why he wound tighter than ever before.

I hope you don’t mind a little company, sir. Kenzo blinked. Alcohol warmed his veins, loosened his inhibitions but did little to quiet the storm that lived in his eyes. "I do mind." There was no reason for his hostility, but he just wanted to get a good buzz before heading home. His plan didn't involve socializing. The soldier beside him asked for recommendations. That would draw the Colonel's stare. Recognition flickered. The mans name escaped him, but there was something about him. "Why do I know you?" There was no warmth, no curiosity in his voice. Only a raw demand, one that was laced with impatience and agitation.




art + code: clae

He was disarmed by the sudden ire that went unhinged in his direction, fairly certain he had never even met this man for him to carry any hatred toward him immediately. Despite the sudden uncertainty of his approach, he would do his best not to show how thrown off he was, not breaking those miserably hostile spheres that seemed to wish to dismantle him where he stood. The words that came with that look were hardly unexpected by the initial reaction, making him bulk a little, not allowing himself to appear intimidated. All the same, this was Colonel, if he didn’t want his company there was no trying to force it or it could result in his rank being stripped entirely. He couldn’t have that, then all his hard work over the last nearly two years would be in vain. He was trying to raise himself up, not crash and tumble down lower and lower to the point of no return.

Just as he was about to apologize, his heel already pivoting with anticipation to leave and give up even attempting this charade he had started to regret, a question would find him. He would pause a tad surprised, starting to suspect maybe he was just an angry drunk like many of the rowdy fools he arrested from time to time. Then again, looking at him, he took a way worse beat up than he had in the war. Maybe he lost some golden prize of a wife to that ugly mug, noble women were petty like that and this new law in place that he found detestable, he was certain nobles tossed into arrangements were busting free from as swiftly as they could find a way.

He of course wouldn’t attempt to find out the reason, already feeling on edge as it was. If he hit a nerve, staying at all would be pointless too.

Taking in a breath, a cordial smile pulled at his lip, resting back down with a vague glimmer in his eyes. “Apologies Colonel. Perhaps Captain Verlice mentioned me? She promoted me after the war ended. I’m Lieutenant Arran Kinnaird,” he said with a dip of his head in greeting, doing his best to appear charming to some capacity to hide the discomfort he had felt since the moment the higher rank looked his way. The thought of getting a drink faded from his to do list, having completely forgotten he was even at a bar, let alone in the process of trying to order something.

Art by Ulfarna | Coding by Plymouth

If the soldier was taken aback by the Colonels sudden hostility, he did a good job of covering it up. Rather than wilting beneath his superiors ire, he offered a smile. The polite gesture did nothing to soften his expression, to ease the critical look in his eyes. Kenzo was searching his brain for something, something that could tie a memory to this soldiers face. Mentions of his sister were unexpected, though like the man standing before him, Kenzo didn't show it. Ryker hadn't mentioned this man and he almost told the wolf that Ryker was likely unimpressed despite his promotion.

Arran Kinnaird...

It snapped into place like a rubber band, His father had been a member of the Imperial Army as well, a respected man. Until he abandoned his rank, his comrades, his country. All so he could go support Jacob. It had left a bitter taste in everyones mouth who knew. It didn't serve his sons highlander heritage either. Before the war, Kenzo hadn't had any particular issue with highlanders in general, just those that threatened his way of life. That was all different now.

"Your father left the army to join Jacob." Kenzo let the words fall from his mouth like stones. Unpleasant questions festered. "You didn't wish to join him?" Kenzo usually maintained a level head. Usually. And usually was before the war. Now? Now he was a coiled viper, lying silently in the grasses, unafraid to strike if someone came too close. How unfortunate it was for Arran that tonight, it was he who ventured too close.

A highlander with a traitorous father. It was a horrendous position to be in. It was also a wonder he hadn't been dragged from the barracks, dishonorably discharged and sent packing after his father. Kenzo had to wonder though, would he buckle under the weight of scrutiny? Or would he rise above it?

The other mans future wasn't something Kenzo pondered for few long for the simple reason that he didn't care. Highlanders had tried and tested him. It was a highlander that turned his back on the army. Highlander was fast becoming a synonym for wretched.

With the heat of alcohol warming his veins, Kenzo's guard was down slightly which allowed his hackles to bristle. Ears tipped back against his skull and his eyes narrowed. The air around him was alive, buzzing with chaotic energy as he pinned Arran with a glare.




art + code: clae