Fylson

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Fylson was seething. The thing was, this was not the first time in his life that he'd felt as though he needed to be looking over his shoulder, but it was the first time he was doing it to make sure that some guy that he didn't even like and who was after his job didn't get swallowed up in the sea of people on their way to work.

It wasn't that they lived in a big bustling city where it was constantly busy, but it seemed like every human city he'd lived in- and he'd lived in quite a few- was a hellscape when people had to get to work. That chaos of the rush hour was one of the many things that Fylson learned that he liked about having contracts in the city. As much as he liked his quiet runs in the early morning, there was just something about the madness of it all when the streets were loud and crowded and people were hopping turnstiles or yelling at each other in traffic. It was kind of invigorating.

Sometimes, when he just needed some time to himself, he would go out and buy a coffee; another miracle of Earth, and find somewhere to just sit and people watch. He'd watch people walk by and try and imagine what their lives were like; did the lady walking by with a smile walking by just get a new job? Just dump a deadbeat ex? Was the guy with the red rimmed eyes the deadbeat ex that got dumped? Was the old lady who fed the birds secretly a spy? Were the birds? Stupid little thoughts, but it was weirdly centering, they cleared his mind when he felt like he'd lose it.

"What sort of facility is that building? An outhouse?" Eirlan asked pointing at one of the local banks. This was the third building that Eirlan had mistaken for a outhouse. It also must have been- and this was a low ball- his thousandth question since they'd stepped out of the apartment ten minutes earlier.

"It's a bank." Fylson grumbled.

"A bank!?" Eirlan scoffed, "In the books back home they make banks look like a grand affair with chandelier, grand clocks, marble columns and the like! What a shame they are instead these dinky little-" Blah, blah, blah. This guy didn't shut up. It was like walking with a toddler, but worse because he was somehow a grown man.

This was definitely one of those moments when Fylson wished he was people watching instead. He could use something to clear his mind. Every time he looked at Eirlan or answered one of his stupid questions, or kept him from wandering off, he feared he would lose it. The pressure building behind his eyes was starting to give him a headache but he held it together. He always did.

Holding it together was kind of Fylson's M.O whether he liked it or not. He held it together here when he'd bounced from contract to contract when they all turned out to be a bust, he held it together when Dola was being her usual hot mess self, held it together when he felt like a hot mess, held it together when he was in Mysthfell ...

No.

He wasn't going to dwell on that place. There was no single reason that he left Mysthfell; there was a myriad. The way his teeth ground at even the mention of the place was subconscious and now here was a pink haired fool of a reminder trailing along behind him. None of this was his job and yet here he was.

Actually.

Wait a minute.

Where was Eirlan? Looking over his shoulder, Fylson saw that Eirlan was no longer following him and no longer whining about the bank. In fact, he was no where to be seen in the crowd of people who moved around him, annoyed with him for holding up the flow of traffic. Did he lose the guy only after fifteen minutes in to them being outside?

Dammit!

Wait.

Not dammit... Actually, maybe that wasn't a bad thing, maybe that was the best thing that could have happened all things considered, he could just- Ah shit never mind, there Eirlan was, going down some alley like the clueless little would be victim that Fylson told him he would become on his first day of being on Earth. It was astounding how right he was so often. If he did lose his contract to Eirlan, maybe he'd become one of those fortune tellers, like the one who'd scammed him when he first arrived on Earth and left him penniless and with a weird ass fortune that to this day made no sense to him. It seemed like a fun job; spouting bullshit and get paid for it. Seemed to Fylson like the one thing Earth and Mysthfell had in common was that the biggest bullshitters seemed to always end up successful. His life certainly would have been easier if he did that.

In his short lived musings, Fylson nearly missed Eirlan slipping into the alley that he'd been looking down with a curious expression of his face.

Taking a long deep irritated breath in, he really considered it, truly with his whole heart he thought about going on with his own business and leaving Eirlan to whatever fate might be awaiting him in that alley.

The interesting thing about the same Brilliance that concealed their identity was that the change was more than just surface level. As they took on the appearance as a weak, easily bruiseable, fragile, frail human, those using Brilliance also took on the approximate resilience and strength of whatever being they were disguised as. If a user of Brilliance were to use the Brilliance to appear human, they became nearly as fragile as a human. Sure they may still have been a bit stronger, a bit faster and maybe even take a hit a bit better, at the end of the day, they were a mere shadow of a shadow of their true strength and ability.

All of that was to say, if Eirlan stepped into that alley and got stabbed or something, the scrap of sharpened Earthly metal would not have yielded to the resistance of his skin like it would have if he were in his actual form.

Ultimately, the likelihood of Eirlan dying to getting stabbed in that random alley for money that he didn't have would have been low, but not actually impossible. The likelihood of Eirlan needing medical attention and arriving to a hospital only to confuse a doctor or nurse when all of his internal organs were not what or where they expected though, pretty high actually.

Perhaps none of the higher ups realized that Dola had two contracts on her soul, but if Eirlan ended up being found out by the humans that might be enough to flag something to make them notice.

"Gods above this man is so annoying." Fylson groused between gritted teeth as he pivoted and took off after Eirlan who'd just slipped into the alleyway with all the survival skills of a discarded week old banana peel.

"Dammit. Dammit." Fylson hissed as he went against the crowd, shouldering their annoyed grunts and curses as he made his way to where Eirlan had slipped away.

Now, there was no protocol for following someone you didn't like down an alley to save their life from some potential unknown criminal, but Fylson was truly going in with no plan. It wasn't until he reached the alley that it occurred to him that while he had more street smarts that Eirlan, in his human form, he was just as vulnerable to getting stabbed and ending up in the hospital and he was somehow pretty sure that Eirlan wouldn't going to have the same drive to step in and assist that he did.

Well, too late to think about that now.

"Eirlan!" Sounding far more intimidating but somehow also just about as irritated as he felt, Fylson found himself standing in the mouth of the alley and finding a scene that momentarily threw him off.

In the alleyway, Eirlan was not being robbed as Fylson expected but was instead having what looked to be a friendly(?) conversation with some random man that looked to be an employee from one of the restaurants that slipped out for a smoke break. Upon closer inspection, Eirlan had a skinny cigarette between his thumb and forefinger and was choking from what looked to be a singular puff.

"Fylson! See how jarring it is to have someone shouting your name? Ugh, anyway, have you tried one of these before? Awful things really. Those old Earth movies made them look so glamorous." He looked at the cigarette with a level of disdain as if it had spoken ill of his mother, "I simply don't see the appeal." He stuck his tongue out in a dramatic display of disgust, speaking now to the restaurant worker who'd been chuckling at what must have seemed like, to an outside observer, quirky antics.

"Eirlan, you can't just take off like that, it's a hassle." Fylson managed between his clenched teeth, really fighting hard not to release his Brilliance and use his full power to smack Eirlan back to Mysthfell with expedited shipping... At least not while this human was watching.

"Well I was walking behind you, by the way your pace is really brisk, not mindful at all for anyone following you ." He huffed as Fylson's eye twitched, "Anyway, I was walking by and I saw this fellow smoking-"

"Hey, I'm John." The guy waved with a hair flip and the cocky lopsided grin of someone who knew they were good looking. It was annoying but mostly because Fylson was just annoyed.

"Yes, this fellow, John." Eirlan waved an absent hand in John's direction with a bored expression, "I've always seen them smoke in the movies so I thought I'd like to try, so I asked and he obliged." Eirlan shrugged, looking down to the still smoking nub of cigarette pinched between his fingers. With one last look of mild disappointment, Eirlan tossed it on the ground, and it landed near John's feet. "It's pretty gross." He sniffed before turning to John, "No offense."

"None taken." John chuckled, stomping out Eirlan;s cigarette, eyes still fixed on the pink haired- well blonde haired at the moment- fool, "It is a gross habit and you're way too pretty to smoke." John winked towards an oblivious Eirlan.

"Something in your eye? Must be the smoke." Eirlan blinked in reply, as clueless as ever.

So maybe Eirlan wouldn't be mugged right away as he'd thought previously. Maybe he'd just get hit on by some normal guy in an alley on a smoke break. Whatever.

"You could have said something. I turned around and you weren't there and I would not have been able to find you. It's actually a bigger problem for you than me, so maybe think about that, 'cus I'm not going to run and find you next time." He could hear himself sounding like the mothers in the local park telling their kids not to talk to strangers and to not eat the sand.

"Oh please, I could find my way back home if I needed to." When Eirlan went to toss his hair back. It was clear that he'd forgotten that his hair was short thanks to his Brilliance and he missed his blonde mop of hair entirely. He looked stupid.

"Even if you could get back, you couldn't get back inside. You don't have a key." Fylson could feel his eyes bulging now with the effort it took to keep his voice down because once he started yelling, he didn't know how he'd stop.

"I'd simply wait for Mistress Dola." Now John's eyes were wide from where he'd remained sat on the stoop of the short set of filthy stairs.

"Mistress?" John muttered to himself, an eyebrow raised in a mix of surprise and interest.

"Didn't she tell you not to call her that?" Fylson shot back, ignoring John.

"Only because you made a fit about it! When you're gone, I'm sure she will take no issue with it."

"Clearly you don't know her. "

"Clearly you don't know me. I can be quite persuasive."

"Yuck. Hate that implication."

"Wait, that's not what I meant-" Eirlan back peddled, face growing red.

"Wow. So this like an open relationship or what? I read an article about those once." John cut in, eyes alight with interest as he looked between the two of them.

"No!"

"Hell no!"

They replied in unison, but John only chuckled and raised his hands in defeat.

"Alright, alright. I'll mind my business." He laughed lightly taking one last long drag from his cigarette before putting it out on the suspiciously slimy brick wall next to him and brushing his hands off on his grease stained apron. "If things don't work out between all of you," he paused with another thoughtful look between the two of them, "or even if they do and you're bored. You know where to find me." he winked with another carefree smile before slipping back in to the restaurant.

There was a long moment of silence as Eirlan and Fylson both stared at the door that John had just disappeared in to.

"Ew. He was weird." Eirlan cringed.

"I hated that whole interaction." Fylson scowled.

That was maybe the first time they agreed.

"Well now that I've tried a cigarette, you may continue leading me to assist you with your... busy work." There was no attempt to hide the disapproval of said 'busy work'.

If Fylson had to guess, that previous agreement had been the first and last of the day.

"Just-" Fylson started sharply before pausing. He sucked in a breath and let it out slowly, "Just stay close this time alright? You're going to slow us down if you keep wandering off, and not all weirdos are as harmless as John." He knew Eirlan was going to roll his eyes at that before he even finished the sentence and low and behold he was right.

"Oh please, I can handle myself!" Eirlan snorted, holding his head a little higher and squaring his shoulders before walking towards the mouth of the alley and back towards the main road, as if he knew where he was going.

"Where am I going?" He asked when he realized that he did in fact not know where they were going because the guy didn't know anything!

Now it was Fylson's turn to roll his eyes.

"Just stay behind me you bonehead." Fylson grumbled, pushing past Eirlan and back out in to the bustle of the streets promising himself that the next time this dimwit wandered off, he was on his own. Whether Eirlan got home or not, whether he got mugged, whether he abandoned his mission and shacked up with dear old John; none of it would be a concern for him moving forward.

Putting his head down, Fylson swore to himself that he would not make Eirlan his responsibility just to please Dola. He would not, could not should not-

"Did you just step on my new shoes?" A deep, burly voice exclaimed behind him and somehow, Fylson just knew that Eirlan was involved somehow. Hoping beyond all hope, he hoped that he was wrong.

"They're just shoes." Came the breezy reply, "They are meant to protect your feet from the elements. I did not meant to step on your foot and for that I apologize, but your reaction is a bit dramatic don't you think." Fylson could picture the flippant dismissal on Eirlan's face without even turning to look at the situation.

They'd only barely just stepped out of the alley. They'd made it five steps when he heard the shouting behind him. Seriously... Five steps. Five steps? You know what? It was Fylson's fault for hoping for better.

Turning around, Fylson saw Eirlan in his human form with his average height and slight build tilting his head back to look down his very breakable looking nose at a mountain of a man who-

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