a working lunch [dorian]

[CYRUS LENNOX REID]

Despite his love for travel, Cyrus had a case of jet lag that really wasn't funny or pleasant. Even though he had his own jet and had to travel a lot with his profession, there was still no getting used to the time changes. The hybrid could remember when travel had been so gradual that jet lag didn't exist, but this certainly wasn't the case now.

Security was practically non-existent when he entered the school building, which seemed a bit strange given where they were, and events that had happened in history that wasn't so very long ago. However, Cyrus didn't mean anyone any harm, and strolled right up to the check-in desk and filled out the paperwork that requested his name (Cyrus Reid), time checked-in (12:05), time checked out (hadn't happened yet), and purpose of visit (lunch with brother, Dorian Reid). Dorian didn't even know he was in town yet; usually, Cyrus checked in via text message or a brief phone message whenever his jet landed, so his brother would know that he had arrived safely. Even though they'd been through a lot together, Dorian's job was much safer than Cyrus', and regardless of where they were or what they were doing, they always worried about one another. Their friendship was so much more than simply being twins who had spent several lifetimes at each others' side. But, since things had a tendency to get predictable in the daily grind that ultimately was life, Cyrus liked to surprise his brother every now and then.

The two coffee cups he carried was 'lunch,' so to speak. Each one had been filled with coffee, originally, but he'd tossed it out and rinsed the cups at home, then re-filled the cups with blood from their special reserve that they stocked at the local blood bank. It was still human blood, as they weren't completely “vegetarian,” as some vampires were, but Dorian felt awful about feeding on humans, and Cyrus just never liked it, so they found a middle ground that allowed their diet to consist of half purchased human blood, and half animal blood from beasts they hunted in the forest, to sate their need for predatory activity. The need was rare, but when it needed to be sated, they'd all but go stir-crazy if they didn't get their hands on something living and drain it dry. And they both knew that it was better (for them, at least) for that something to be a deer or other non-human or non-supernatural species. The blood was satisfying, because it was still blood, and even though it wasn't human blood, it was good enough. Today, Cyrus brought the good stuff.

It was always nice to be back in Manuka after a long mission. His last job had been an art heist in Berlin where he'd broken into the den of several other thieves to steal some artwork that had belonged to a rather prominent collector that worked for The Louvre. Cyrus never liked to ask very many questions about his missions; the less he knew about a job or a person was usually for the best, because it didn't cloud his judgment. So long as nobody's life was in danger, and nobody would get killed because of what he'd done, Cyrus would take the job. It wasn't his place to determine whether his customer was right to have him steal something, because money all spent the same. The thieves' den had been laced with traps, and they were very clever, but Cyrus was the best for a reason, and had managed to get the paintings that his client had ordered in under an hour, which was rather impressive given the size of the warehouse that they were being kept in, the traps, and basic cautionary tactics.

The way to his brother's office was one he knew nearly by heart, and saw that the door was opened when he approached, which meant that his brother wasn't currently with a student. Cyrus saw him, head down in a stack of paperwork, and grinned before knocking twice on the doorframe. ”Can I trouble you for a bit of a working lunch?” Cyrus said, waiting for his brother to address him somehow. He hoped that Dorian would be happy to see him, as he normally was, but there was always that chance. Cyrus stepped into the office and shut the door behind him, then handed Dorian his 'coffee' cup. ”You'll have to be creative when disposing of it, but I figured you'd be grateful. How's work?” Cyrus sat down in one of the plush chairs in front of his brother's desk and took a sip from his own cup. Just seeing Dorian was enough to make his whole day, even though he would have seen him that night after work, most likely, unless he had plans with his circle of friends to go out for a drink or something. Cyrus could have chosen to wait around at home, maybe fix some dinner, but the surprise was much better, and he felt that it was a rather good idea. So long as he hadn't chosen to drop in at a bad time.

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OUTFIT:[/color] Here!

[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

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this city never sleeps at night

[style=width: 350px; height: 200px; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify;] When Cyrus was away, of course Dorian missed his brother, but he was fine with it. He knew he'd see him when he could, and he was busy working anyway. It was a nice feeling, being busy. Of course, a lot of it was completely tedious, the paperwork he didn't particularly enjoy. He had always been a very physical man, and so sitting behind a desk wasn't entirely his dream job. But for Dorian it was more about the people who he was helping. He had always been a sucker for a lost cause, for making a difference, and he couldn't say that it has always been unselfish. He tends to feel a sort of selfish arrogance of satisfaction that he was able to help out. He didn't expect anything for it, but within himself it was something that he was very proud of, sometimes too much. When they moved to Manuka, there were bigger plans made to do good, but on the times when they weren't doing much, Dorian had decided to become a counsellor. It helped the kids who are kind of pulled down by their own emotions, and his experience of over two-thousand years would make him the perfect candidate. Not that anyone at this school knew this little fact.

In that moment, his mind was not on his brother, but the young man who was suggested to come to him because of some problems at home. Dorian could empathise with how hard home life was, and try and offer some solutions. But as he sat there, in his mandatory suit, glasses on his face, and hands clasped together, sometimes he felt that he had a lot more than he could offer. That thought might have been a contradiction, but he knew that seeing a man in a suit wouldn't help anything. He just hoped that he could improve the state of mind of the kids, and he's made a lot of close friends with the teenagers. As funny as that thought was, but everyone was young to Dorian. So, whether someone was sixteen or thirty ... that difference was almost nothing. However, he knew he had a calm and soothing presence. He liked t stand close to the person in question, or place his chair across from them so that the desk would not be a barrier. Dorian didn't want them to feel that talking to them was his job, he wanted them to feel comfortable, and there was no way they could do that if they felt that he was acting superior by having such a barrier as a desk between them.

His blue eyes were soft as the kid spoke. His name was Danny, and he was sixteen years old, and people bullied him because his mother could not afford nice clothes for him. It was so sad, cases like this. Sure, Dorian had dealt with worse, but just because a problem seemed small, didn't mean that it wasn't the biggest problem in the world for Danny. Dorian suggested helping him get an after school job, something that would not take away from the time he needed to study to become an accountant, but also it would give him enough for what he needed. Sure, the problem was not solved, but Dorian believed in taking small steps towards a bigger goal, rather than leaping and falling. Once the boy left, Dorian ran a hand through his hair and opened the door to the office he was allocated, to indicate that he was not busy. That was like an unspoken rule of his office, if it was open you could come in, if not then come back when it is. He really doesn't like distractions when talking to the kids, that makes them so much more reserved and he doesn't like losing progress.

Dorian was just putting down the progress with Danny, when a knock on the door surprised him. He glanced up and grinned at the sight, a feeling of warmth spreading through him. It was always like this when he saw Cyrus after the man had gone away. Really, his brother he would always miss. Dorian stayed in his seat as the coffee cup was placed before him, and nodded. "Of course, come in. Just finished with a student actually, give me a minute to write some things down." He smiled at his brother, quickly putting down some notes. He never made any while talking, and his memory was good enough to write them down later. When he was done, he put his papers to one side, and gave the other male in the room his undivided attention. Really, that was a talent of his, as much as fighting was. Picking up the cup, he took a sip. "Oh God, yes. I really needed this actually. The coffee at this school really isn't great. Thank you." Dorian snorted, before cocking his head to the side a little. "Work's work. What are you doing here? How did your trip go?" He asked, prompting Cyrus to start speaking, because he was always interested at how his missions went, but was always glad when Cyrus was back in one piece.

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WORDS: 862 | TAG: cj/cyrus | NOTES: eeep <333 best bros!
made by CHRISTO. of Caution 2.0. steal and die, bitches.

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[CYRUS LENNOX REID]

Something about Dorian in his office made Cyrus smile on the inside. While for many years, his brother had been a diligent warrior, an excellent swordsman, and then a master of other weapons as technology advanced, this newer addition to his personality was one that Cyrus felt was rather fitting. Even if it was gentler, more emotion-based, Dorian always had a caring side. After all, he was the elder twin, and while Cyrus felt that he hadn't been much trouble, he had always been more of the troublemaker. When they had changed their identities and initially spoken about maybe settling down, since there seemed to be no current people in any dire need of a champion, Cyrus had wondered what his twin would do.

Even though they were similar in a handful of ways, Cyrus was more apt to continue on with the path that he had made for himself instead of some higher calling. Thievery, smuggling, and other tasks that required a more deft hand had always appealed to him ever since he'd first stolen a loaf of bread while accompanying his father to market and getting away with it. While a better part of him knew it was wrong to steal, another part of him, a stronger part, decided that it felt too good to care about right or wrong. It was liberating to function in the shadows, to be the definition of the phrase 'thief in the night.' Early on in their existence, Cyrus worried that his steadfast, champion of a brother would disapprove, and it would break his heart. So, he mostly tried to steer his devious ways toward tasks that would somehow contribute to the greater good.

If Dorian ever disapproved of him, Cyrus would exist without an identity, and he knew that, even if his older twin didn't. Their dynamic duo had been his shelter in the storm, the fire in his heart, and what kept him going through the ages, because he wasn't as focused and driven as his brother. Yet, their differences made them stronger and almost turned them into a completely cohesive unit that depended on one another to make the final product. Cyrus sometimes mentally likened it to flint and friction. Each had its purpose, but when the flint met friction, there could be a spark that would eventually turn to flame. Dorian was similar to flint in that he was steadfast, secure, stable – like the mineral rock that would stay steady and permanent, where Cyrus was friction, consistently forcing things to be in motion and relatively unsettled. At least, that was how it worked in his mind. They both had their unsettled moments, and moments of security, but together, they were certainly stronger than apart.

Even though he loved his adventures, and had a magnificently fun time raiding a literal thieves' den and stealing priceless artwork for a mysterious benefactor who allowed Cyrus' friend Deidre to pay him handsomely for the entire mission, he was happy to be home. The moment his jet had landed, Cyrus felt that much safer because he was back somewhere that he knew, somewhere that he and Dorian had called home for a while. Neither brother had been much to sink their roots into a place for too long since they left Rome, because they had learned the hard way that everything great had an expiration date, but Manuka felt like a place where they could really spread their wings and actually try to establish some sort of permanent residence. Deidre was there now, and Dorian had a good job. Cyrus could travel as much as he wanted, whether he was working or just enjoying a bit of wanderlust. Sometimes, Cyrus felt that he traveled too much, because he really wasn't home much nowadays – the jobs just kept coming, and Cyrus needed excitement to keep him level.

When Dorian welcomed him into his office, Cyrus felt his brother's presence and knew that as great as the adventures were, no adrenaline rush could beat this feeling. ”A student, hmm? Are you allowed to discuss it with your only brother, or is it confidential?” Either way, Cyrus didn't mind – it wasn't his business what students Dorian saw, but it did give them something to talk about. Really, he was just here to spend time with Dorian, so it didn't matter what they talked about in the end.

Cyrus watched his brother scribble in a notebook and smiled, then handed over the beverage, knowing that this had been a great foresight. Even if it was disguised. ”Well, it's more nutritious for us than coffee, but I smuggled it in just fine.” Cyrus said with a devious grin. Hopefully, his brother would be just as appreciative of a bit of blood from their personal storage that was all purchased on the up-and-up as he would with coffee. ”Although I'll make a note to bring you coffee next time.” Cyrus took a sip of his own drink and looked at his brother, who looked content, and that made Cyrus happy. They had both gone through a roller coaster's worth of ups and downs, and some of their heartbreaks had been devastating. Now, if Dorian could find happiness, Cyrus would embrace whatever source it came from with open arms.

”My jet landed about an hour and a half ago. I've got a meeting with Deidre tomorrow about... payment. But, you know me, just back from another mission. Interesting one this time. I got to deal with some of the most priceless paintings in the world,” Cyrus said, pleased whenever someone took an interest in his work, and even more pleased when he could actually speak about it candidly.

”It wasn't anything too dangerous, though. I think Drey knows that you worry like you're my mother or something,” Cyrus said, teasing his brother. Part of him was glad that Dorian cared enough to worry, and tried his best not to give his twin too much reason to do so. ”But enough about me – tell me what I've missed since I've been away.”

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[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

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this city never sleeps at night

[style=width: 350px; height: 200px; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify;]Actually, counsellor's were kind of bound to confidentiality, but it was more so for legal matters like other teachers and police and what not, he didn't see any harm with sharing things about students to the only person Dorian trusted with his own being. He held the cup which Cyrus had given him, not yet taking a sip and leaned back in his chair, closing his papers. "This person had some problems at home. I've just been trying to give some solutions where he could work and still have good grades at the same time, since it seems that what he needed." Dorian was good at what he did, even though the papers with which he got the job weren't exactly real, he was not a moron and had learned fast. Counselling was just another way of helping those who needed it. He had fought in both world wars, played a part in abolishing slavery, but never really focused on individuals such as this, and now he felt good doing it. It was different, because he enjoyed being a fighter, hell, it was in his blood, but he didn't mind sitting here and doing all he can to help those who didn't have the means to help themselves. Sometimes Dorian looked at schools and thought about how hypocritical they were; these teenagers were seen as too young to do anything, but they had to make all these life decisions. He did not envy them that.

Dorian eyed the cup, and a wide grin spread across his features. Oh, Cyrus was like heaven sent! He had really needed this. Dorian nodded, taking a large sip from the cup and wiped his lips just in case there was any red residue left there. "Thank you, Cyrus, I really needed this." He nodded, and marvelled at how well his brother knew him. Well of course, they had spent the better part of over two thousand years together, but it was such a nice feeling, when someone knew you so thoroughly. Though of course, Dorian knew Cyrus just as well. "No, this is good, I mean, I can usually pop over the road and get some decent coffee." He smirked a little and placed the cup next to his papers, completely at ease in the company of his brother. "Not like I can go across the road to get this." He laughed a little, and he eyed his twin. He liked the difference in their attire. Over the years, Dorian could not understand twins that dressed identically, it was quite idiotic to him, because he would rather be an individual. For example, Dorian wore glasses whereas Cyrus did not, and that in itself made them individual, let alone what they did and who they were. It seemed that it was females than males that went with the whole identical thing.

Dorian leaned forward in his seat, clear interest in his features as Cyrus started speaking about his mission. He was always interested as hell in whatever Cyrus did on one of them. His brother was good at telling compelling stories. As was Dorian, but there was no doubt that Cyrus was better. "Oh? Which paintings?" His curiosity was peaked, and he rattled off most famous paintings that he knew in his mind and wondered if it was any of them. "Ah, I hope she's paying you well for risking your life." He teased, because he knew that Cyrus would not have agreed to something unless he knew it would be worth him while, but at his next words. Dorian rolled his eyes and laughed, but there was a shrug on his shoulders. "Call me old fashioned, but I'd rather not get a call saying that you got arrested or died." Dorian spoke, a snort on his lips. He had been put in jail himself one time, it hadn't been a pleasant experience. Not until he had proven to his inmates that he would not be beaten in anything they could dish out at him. That time was hard, trying not to feed, and the anger at the dimwitted morons only fuelling the thirst. Yes, not a pleasant time at all. "I'm glad she takes me into account when she's planning your endeavours." Dorian chuckled and ran a hand through his straw coloured hair.

Dorian smirked a little when he was asked about what was going on in Manuka, and took a moment to think about it. "Well ... I've done some research on the slave trade here. I've got some plans at home, we can have a look at them when we get home." Dorian said, resting his fingers on his chin in a thoughtful motion, his blue eyes darkening a little in distaste. Some people thought that he was such a sweet person, a gentleman, but he knew that both he and Cyrus knew of his dark side. Sometimes the anger in him shocked himself, and the kills were merciless. But then he shook his head, not wanting to dwell on things that may or may not be. "Other than that ... Well, there's this teachers assistant that's been popping into my office. She's nice." Dorian shrugged, thinking of the blonde woman who had propositioned him about the charity event. He instantly took a liking to her, she was sweet and funny and charismatic, and Dorian had a small smile on his face. None the less, she was someone that Cyrus would approve the company of. "Oh, and someone came round asking for you, about a job you did in Paris a few decades ago. They didn't leave a message, just a name." He wrote the name down on a small piece of paper and handed it to Cyrus.

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WORDS: 957 | TAG: cj/cyrus | NOTES: hope this is okay lovely!!
made by CHRISTO. of Caution 2.0. steal and die, bitches.

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[CYRUS LENNOX REID]

The hybrid felt the urge to lean back in his chair and rest his feet on Dorian's desk like a complete vagabond, but fought the impulse. No, his brother had a proper career, and was well-respected in his profession. Despite Dorian's occasional need to spar or brawl someone aside with the pure, brute force that he kept very well hidden and under wraps, he was good at putting off a calm, helpful exterior. Dorian cleaned up nicely, and could pose as that of a true gentleman. Both twins were good at a little bit of subterfuge, to say the least. Although Dorian's white lies were usually legal and on the up and up. Cyrus... well, he didn't get paid to deal with legal missions. At least, most of the time. Smuggling, theft, break-ins, jail breaks, fishing jobs, pickpocketing and planting... none of those would be looked upon fondly, but that was why people hired him. With Cyrus, there were very little strings, and so long as the pay was worthy of his skill, a client could trust that whatever job they wanted done (so long as there was no murder involved) would be done correctly, and with plenty of subtlety and finesse. As a master thief, one had to always be on their toes, and being with Dorian was one of the few places where Cyrus could really feel safe to be himself. Not Cyrus, the fake CIA agent or Cyrus the master thief and worldwide criminal, but Cyrus... the twin brother and best friend.

He was pleased that his surprise present had gone over well, because he really did know that his brother had to get hungry with a semi-stressful job (at least, in Cyrus' opinion, it was stressful), and being surrounded by hormonal humans that all likely left the scent of pulsing, delicious red matter that the hybrid was slightly ashamed to crave, and figured Dorian might have been as well, although they rarely discussed such issues. Being vegetarian vampires had been for the best, since they cared for humans and didn't see them as prey, even though they knew that their age and strength put them a step above most mortal creatures in prowess. Cyrus knew they were superior, and while humans weren't his favorite beings out there, he did subscribe to his brother's school of thought that they deserved fair treatment. Mae, who had been a human, was the love of his life, and Cyrus would never forget what he felt for her. It was from that relationship that he was able to fully understand that humans were just as worthy of existence as anyone or anything else. ”I figured you probably starved around here,” Cyrus teased. His brother wouldn't allow himself to starve, and they didn't crave blood as often as they had a thousand or so years ago, but they still needed it. Quite frequently, even. ”You're my brother, and I'm happy to see you. It's the least I can do, really.” The small favor was barely even out of his way, but it felt good to be appreciated, and Dorian had always been kind to him, and others. It was just a part of who he was.

His brother was also intuitive, and when Cyrus got to talking about his missions, he usually held back so as not to ramble and gush about stories that would have the potential to make Dorian seem like he was very stagnant in his current lifestyle. Cyrus didn't think Dorian's life was boring in general, but it would be boring for the hybrid. His brother was happy, though, and Cyrus didn't want to be rude and make his brother envious of his more glamorous, albeit dangerous, way of living. So, despite the fact that he enjoyed talking about his missions, he tried to keep things simple, unless pressed, which was exactly what his brother seemed to be doing by asking about what paintings had been included in his not so little heist. ”Beautiful ones. A few early Rembrandts, Monet's 'Water Lilies'... the original. Van Gogh's self-portrait. Nothing small,” Dorian said, remembering how he had been a little bit in awe at seeing such great masterpieces so close before whisking them away from the fools that had stolen them in the first place. Surely the young art thieves had to think someone would be coming after them – collectors like the one they'd stolen from were bound to have more than a few connections.

Cyrus was looking forward to seeing Deidre again, and getting the cool half million dollars that were owed to him for his endeavors. Dorian didn't know that part, but Cyrus rarely disclosed the sum of what his clients did pay him and instead was able to spoil his brother with random vacations and other luxuries when he was feeling too much in stasis, simply because they had such a good time when they were together, and Cyrus was closer to Dorian than anyone in the world. That was the way it had always been, and the way he hoped it would be for eternity. ”Deidre has always taken very good care of my financial needs, and her family can always meet my price,” Cyrus said diplomatically. ”And, if memory serves, I'm the one of us who hasn't landed myself in a jail cell, despite my penchant for breaking the law.” It was a tease, because the time that Dorian had been imprisoned had been so hard on Cyrus that it took everything the hybrid had not to do a jailbreak operation of his own, pro bono, just to break his brother out. Every day he worried that Dorian would lose control and feed, and get caught, or worse. If he thought for a moment that his brother would have wanted him to risk himself to get him out of there, Cyrus would have gone through with his plans without a second thought.

The tides of conversation changed, and Dorian revealed that he had been researching a slave trade market that was local to Manuka. Cyrus had heard him speak of this before, but didn't know that he was seriously planning on having them follow through with an actual strike on the facility, given how settled he was within the community already. The hybrid was free to come and go, but Dorian had real roots in Manuka, so Cyrus was concerned about the potential risk. ”I'll look over your plans, big brother, but aren't you concerned about backlash? You've got a life here, and it's important to you. I don't want us to be hasty just because there's evil afoot.” Dorian was usually the sensible one, but sometimes, his do-gooder gene tended to make him act quickly because he wanted to help people so much.

His brother also mentioned someone stopping by about a job Cyrus had done in Paris. The hybrid paused: there had been many Paris jobs, but after seeing the name that his brother had written down, he pursed his lips. It was an old business associate, and an important one, but not one that Cyrus was sure he liked. And it was one that he knew for a fact his brother wouldn't like. Cyrus put on a smile and tried to act calm. ”Oh, that's good to know. Maybe I've got more jobs to do. This one has a way of putting money in my hand like you wouldn't believe.” Then, he left it at that and hoped Dorian would change the subject.

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[DORIAN ISAAC REID]

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this city never sleeps at night

[style=width: 350px; height: 200px; font-family: arial; font-size: 10px; padding: 5px; overflow: auto; text-align: justify;] Sometimes Dorian worried about his brother, and he was a hundred percent certain that Cyrus worried for him too, but the vampire didn't like the danger that Cyrus put himself in. He generally didn't like the thievery and the fact that there was a chance for mishap, but Dorian was certainly wise enough to let his brother make his own decisions. Dorian had never made Cyrus's decisions for him, and sometimes he regretted that, what with him slaughtering men after Mae died. Dorian grieved for those lives, and he knew it was ironic to pray for a vampire, but he did. Dorian always did, but he told no one about it, not even his brother. It was a part of him that really no one got to see, and the fact that he himself has killed would really go against God, but he made himself feel better with the thought that his actions were for a good cause. He eyed the male from across the table, they were the same, but also so different.

Dorian, of course, appreciated the impromptu gift, because he was beginning to feel a burn in the back of his throat and there were just so many humans at this school. But his age allowed him for good control, he was able to control his thirst, though he fed when he needed to. Never on human blood, he survived and didn't see harm in that. However, he snorted at the words, amusement in his eyes at the blatant tease. "I do not starve. I don't loathe myself enough to ever be in that position." He smirked a little, because there were those vampires that hated themselves for who they were and refused to take a drop of blood, but when the hunger got too much they would do more damage than they would have if they fed regularly. "But I appreciate the concern, brother, really, it warms my heart." He laughs a little and takes a drink from the cup, allowing for the red liquid to make its way down his throat, and he had to force his fangs not to extend. He licked his teeth clean. "Happy to see you too, you know, when you come bearing gifts and all." Dorian teased with a grin, because he liked seeing his brother all the time. Two thousand years really had brought them together.

Dorian didn't dislike his desk job, he was definitely a people's person, but sometimes he craved that action. He started out as a gladiator, and the vampire could be vicious when need be, yet this was stifled by the job which he currently had. He liked hearing about Cyrus's missions though, because he liked to know what his brother got up to, but also because he was genuinely interested. He listened to him name the paintings which they had been after, and tilted his head to the side. "Beautiful pieces, I suppose they would have been well guarded?" Dorian and Cyrus had been alive for the time that most of these paintings were made, when the artists were nothing but beggars. They'd seen some of them get created without ever realising how valued they would become. He chuckled at the last part though. "No, I'd never expect you to go after anything small." He shook his head, because anything that his brother did he did it big, but Dorian was more of an in between guy. He dealt with one person at a time here, yet when they had been parts of different events in history, those had been big. They wanted to do good in big ways, and Dorian had been more than up for that.

Cyrus assured him that Deidre would take good care of his finacials, and then the quip about jail made Dorian laugh. "Yeah, and I was able to take care of myself." He cocked an eyebrow in a way that there was no argument that he was right. "Besides, I bet you were making a hundred and one plans how to get me out, because even if you love breaking the law, you're much too sentimental to let your brother rot." That was a quip at Cyrus's soft spot, as bad ass and a criminal as he was, Dorian knew that he was loved by his brother and Cyrus knew that Dorian loved him too. Didn't mean that they couldn't tease each other about it though. "One of these days you will get caught if you're not careful, so don't get cocky Cyrus. You've seen what happens to men when they underestimate their opponents and overestimate their own strengths." Dorian's voice was low this time, the wisdom of seeming older showing though, but even if he could be irrational, most of the time he was more level headed than his brother. He didn't want anything bad to happen to him, and so he had to tell it like it was. Not in any rude way of course, but just a little reminder that life is not a play-ground and that he should take care of himself.

Dorian knew that his idea about the human slave market would raise and eyebrow, and as his thumb worked over the tip of his pen, pressing the little nub in and out in an agitated gesture, he frowned at Cyrus. "You know me, I would never jump into this without a plan, but I wouldn't mind running after." He hasn't yet found anything to really keep him there, and he could find a job in another place, granted that the kids he was helping now would have full support after he left. "We are talking thousands of human slaves, used and tortured by people who think they're bigger than humanity." His voice was low, since his walls were thin, but if Dorian felt passionately about something, he wanted to do something about it. "Cyrus, I can't just watch that happen. We've done a lot more for a lot less." He tilted his chin up, willing his brother to believe in his words. Dorian was a sucker for helping those who needed it. It might have been a hero complex, but it was more that Dorian hated to see innocent people getting hurt.

When Dorian mentioned the man that had come by, he didn't quite like the look on his twin's face at the sight of the name. However, even if he wasn't fully satisfied with the answer, he let it go. Sighing softly, Dorian ran a hand through his hair and leaned back in his chair, fixing the glasses upon his nose. "Are you free tonight?" He asks the male, "We could go out for a few drinks." He missed spending time with his brother, and anything he wanted to do, Dorian would put on hold the work which he had to do.

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WORDS: 1141 | TAG: cj/cyrus | NOTES: this took sinfully long, i'm sorry! </3333
made by CHRISTO. of Caution 2.0. steal and die, bitches.

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[CYRUS LENNOX REID]

It was hard to explain the bond that twins shared, but Cyrus had never really paid much attention to his bond with Dorian being any more special than other siblings shared. So they were identical twins, and had been fortunate enough to spend the equivalent of more than a few normal lifetimes together, so they knew just about everything through each other. They'd gone through their share of messes, seen triumphs and failures, ups and downs, but the constant that stayed was that they were always there for one another. Sure, Cyrus had his travels, and Dorian tended to want to stay in one place when he got settled somewhere, but they always came back to each other, and did a lot of traveling together throughout the years. Actually, the longer Cyrus actually thought about it, the more he realized that Manuka had been one of few places over the course of over two thousand years that Dorian actually seemed to consider a home. His twin had a good job, connections, more than a few friends, most likely. He was doing exactly what he wanted to do – help people, which was something that he was very, very good at, and the hybrid couldn't help but admire all the good that his brother had done. Cyrus was more of a rolling stone with ambiguous morality, and even though technically speaking, he would announce that he was on the 'light side' along with Dorian, he certainly saw both sides of the field, and had trusted contacts – even friends – on both sides of the fence. This was something that his twin likely wouldn't approve of, because his morals were a little more strict, but even if he could, Cyrus knew that he wouldn't change his twin. Not for anything. ”If you started with the self-hatred or self-pity, you know I would have to beat it out of you.” Cyrus said, than chuckled a little. Dorian used to be a Gladiator, and his skills were more than 'impressive' could cover, if he was being honest. ”But I doubt I'd last long in an actual fight with you. There is a reason why I'm more successful as your 'behind the scenes' man.”

They took care of each other, and that was part of the fact that while some siblings allowed their differences to cause conflicts and create distance between them, the twins never had. Although Cyrus hated the knowledge that he did keep some secrets from his brother, mostly because he had to, they were still able to discuss details of his job and his various assignments in a way that he really couldn't talk to most other people. Well, other than Deidre, the spunky little demon who gave him most of his assignments these days. She was also hooked in with a very large group of dark side supernaturals, although she claimed neutrality herself, but Cyrus had always figured that was for business' sake. If a light sider needed the kind of work she specialized in, and had the cash to afford her services (which weren't cheap, mind), then they likely wouldn't go to someone on their opposing side. But someone neutral... well, so long as they didn't learn of her familial connections, they might still do business with Deidre, and likely had, given the fact that she had a spotless reputation. Dorian was friends with her, too, but not as close as Cyrus, but that was because she had only helped the twins change their identities, once upon a time, and after that initial contact, Dorian had gone off to his own business, and Cyrus looked to her with help for his... personal business. And that was how he got connections with the Mafia. ”I leave the small jobs for people who are trying to get a foothold in the business. Everyone has to start somewhere, and I've paid my dues.” It might have sounded slightly elitist, but it was true – Cyrus didn't want to take just any job because it wouldn't prove to be challenging enough for him. But for a young upstart, the jobs he passed on might allow them to experience an entire range of opportunity.

The hybrid was comforted by the fact that even his do-gooder brother wasn't entirely put off by his devotion to a life of crime, likely because Cyrus swore he'd never deal in violence after a misstep that had happened centuries ago. A night when he had utterly and completely lost control, and many people ended up dead at his hands. Sure, it was a certainty that Cyrus would run into more trouble than Dorian, but he was also better at not getting caught, and the one time his brother had was... trying, to say the least. ”I never doubted that you'd be able to take care of yourself, my dear brother, but if you hadn't managed to get yourself out of the situation, I would have gotten you out. And there were only six different plans concerning your rescue, thank you very much.” The hybrid laughed, showcasing deep smile lines that both men shared. Really, it never ceased to amaze him that Dorian knew him so well, although it likely shouldn't have been a surprise. Just like he started speaking of a new job that he wanted them to look into. A slave trade market – he'd heard of that place, local, with some very powerful backers that could prove to be problematic.

”I am not saying no, but Dorian – you just spoke to underestimating your opponents. Do you have any idea the people who are connected to that establishment? I only know of some of them in passing and... they're beyond us. If you're so interested in taking this place down, let me establish some sort of plan first, an old-fashioned stake out, and really learn our enemies before we even consider taking on this fight alone.” People didn't usually scare him, but some of the people that his brother was likely going to piss off by raiding the warehouses and stealing their captives were... powerful. Hell, he'd worked with some of them. These were truly dangerous, well-connected individuals who would never take lightly to being stolen from, and even though he loved challenges, he also valued his life. And his brother's. The conversation had a minor hiccup after a message from an old contact was delivered, and Cyrus was hoping that after the discussion of the slave trade, his brother would be willing to change the subject, move on to something less, volatile, and Dorian did so very nicely. Cyrus beamed – he always loved spending time with his brother, when he was in town.

”For you, I can always make time. Not that I had any pressing plans or anything, but I'd love to join you for drinks,” Cyrus said, then tacked on a little addition, in a cheeky way. ”Are you buying?” A good laugh was what they both needed, especially if they were going to embark on another dangerous adventure together.

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