He wasn't quite sure if this was the type of person he wanted to be.

Keiblen slid the card key into his hotel door's lock. It worried him, slightly, because he didn't know if he was the type of person to invite someone to his room after first meeting him. Granted, these weren't usual circumstances and were probably life and death for someone he hadn't met yet, but that didn't make him anymore sure about having someone move in with him. Or at least, his hotel room.

Maybe it wouldn't be so bad. Maybe he'd find that he used to do this all the time. Hopefully, people didn't end up dead after going to his...home? It was a hotel room, as much a home as he had.

But what really frightened him about this set-up was the person he was going to be living with. Person was the only classification he could give Bo, unfortunately, which was why he was nervous. Homo-phobe as he was, Keiblen was worried about finding out whether or not his new roomie was female. And, about what he might do if he found out it wasn't.

"Welcome to home sweet home." He stepped in and held the door open. Please let this be a good idea!

((For the Tie Dahling!))

"Hm..."
Bo stepped inside and gave the place an appraising look. He nodded, and said, without the slightest hint of sarcasm, "Very nice."
He'd slept in worse places, after all.
He'd run off 'home', or to that random apartment he called home (It didn't really count because he didn't actually stay there often) and gotten a bag, which he now deposited neatly by the radiator.

It was a hotel room, there wasn't actually a lot that could be wrong with it, but it took all types, I suppose. But he really hoped that he wasn't charged more for having someone else in the room, he'd only payed for a single. They couldn't do that, could they?

Keiblen's empty suitcase was in the closet and all of his clothes were in the drawers or hanging. It was pretty convenient when he woke up to remember nothing to find all he needed packed away neatly and ready to go.

"It's enough I guess..." He was a little confused. Now what?

Bo perched on the radiator, watching Keiblen and smiling faintly.
"So tell me more about yourself. How did you come to live in a hotel?"

Keiblen decided to sit on the bed, opposite of Bo. It was always good to face someone you were having a conversation with.

"I guess you could just call me a nomad. I told you I don't remember things, so I'm trying to figure them out."

There was a brief silence because there really wasn't anymore information he was willing to diverge at the moment. It would have to ask another question to get another answer. While Keiblen might trust Bo the slightest bit, it didn't change the fact that he didn't like talking about himself.

He cleared his throat. Their conversation certainly wasn't as lively as before...

"You can, uh, put your stuff away if you like," he gestured towards the bathroom. His mind wandered for a second. How were they going to solve the problem of sleeping arrangements?

"It will be all right if it stays in my bag."
Smile smile. Isn't he cute?
If he is, indeed, a he...

Bo will sleep anywhere. On the floor, in the bathtub, in the closet...in the bed, but only by invitation.

Indeed, it was a nice smile. Keiblen even focused on it alone for a moment before his attention went back to the eyes.

"So how are you going to make sure I don't do anything? It's not as if I can be with you everywhere you go. Surely you have things to do."

Because simply living together didn't really work well in his mind. When he's at the hotel there's not much to really get him upset unless it soon be Bo himself. And Keiblen would hate to do something to Bo, especially since the androgynous hero seemed to want to help him so badly, and gods know he needs it.

Besides, Bo didn't know the extent of what he'd done or the reasons, if reasons they could be called.

"I do not have anything to do."
It's a lie, but anything he needs to do (i.e. have sex) can be done while Keiblen is asleep, easily.

Was there really an apropriate way to respond to that? Keiblen really didn't have a lot to do at this point in his life. To tell the truth, he was coming to a sort of a stand-still in the on-going search for his identity. Unfortunately, there weren't any stores in the city that specialized in memory retrieval.

He wasn't even sure that he'd be able to stand having someone with him twenty-four/seven. He hadn't ever done it before--at least, not that he knew of--and was worried that he might go off again. He most definately didn't want a repeat of what happened last time. Keiblen shuttered and hated himself just thinking about it.

Bo slid off the radiator and glided silently to Keiblen, touching his shoulder lightly.
"Do not worry." He said, as if he was reading the man's mind. "I may make you angry, but you will not be able to hurt me."

"And how do you know that, huh? Last time I lost control I sent someone to the hospital!" probably.

He didn't know a lot about how the kid was. Didn't even know his name. Once he'd broken his ribs and come back to sanity, Keiblen tried to do what he could. It didn't work because the boy was terrified of him and Keiblen could barely see due to his tears. Sickness had hit him again once he came out of it. Just like the first time he got a low fever and was briefly unable to use any of his 'power.' He hadn't even called GothTech, too much ashamed and frightened of himself to pick up the reciever and confess to it.

"How do you know I won't do that to you, too?"

"Because you would have to catch me first."
And Bo is very fast. Much faster than any human could be. He's fairly confident that Keiblen couldn't catch him...still he avoids promising himself that; overconfidence can end in tragedy.

"It's that simple?" he deflated immediatly. How could he distance someone who wouldn't be distanced?

It was just like the decision to allow Bo to live with him. Bo was so confident in what he said that there was no room for Keiblen to make up an argument.

And that was Bo's intention, because he firmly believed that what Keiblen needed was someone to keep him in check, not the opportunity to run off without it again.

"It would be even simpler, but I do not think that is possible."

"How do you mean, what would be simpler?"

There was a brief tinge in the air around them as Keiblen relaxed a bit. The air had dropped some noticable degrees. Yes, that was much more comfortable.

"I don't know. It might be simpler if I could teleport or something. But like I said, I can't."
He shivered appreciatively, enjoying cool as much as he enjoyed warm.
"Very nice."

"Thank you," he looked up briefly at the person next to him, then turned to look about the sparse room.

"So do you want to go do something or what?" He'd said it just to fill in the silence. For some inexplicable reason, this type of silence, of uncertainty, made Keiblen uncomfortable.

"Whatever."
Following you, buddy. Following you.

"Uh.." he wasn't yet good at thinking up things to do.

There was a ball of ice in his hands that he was rolling around as he tried to think. It didn't help much, but kept his hands occupied. But with every twist in his palms, it gained another layer of frost and grew slightly bigger.

"You hungry? Or..want to watch TV or something?"

"If you throw that at me, you will regret it for reasons other than guilt."
Remember the look in the coffeeshop, the one about the jugular?
Yeah, that look.
But it disappeared quickly.

"Whatever suits you. TV."
Bo doesn't eat food, after all.

He was caught offguard by the look that could freeze even him. Keiblen was slightly astonished. The sphere that was about the size of a golf-ball was held tightly in his hand. He hadn't meant to seem like he was about to throw it...had he been about to throw it?

"..sorry.."

No. TV didn't work. He didn't like it, especially not the news. But what to do, what to do? He unconciously began to turn the sphere.

"Well I don't know what to do," hopefully Bo would think of something to do other than sit there.

"We could go out walking. Perhaps something interesting will find us. No sense in being bored."
He hopped to his feet, light and agile. Yay, going for a walk!

A walk. Yes, a walk would be good. Of course, his going out for a morning walk began then entire thing. That was when it started, the temporary insanity. But he tried not to think of that.

"Alright. Just a walk, nowhere in particular?"

He got up and made sure the key was in his pocket (check) then opened the door to leave.

"Nowhere in particular." he replied, but it was a lie.
He hopped out of the room ahead of Keiblen, setting a pace that was brisk but not purposeful...despite that he knew exactly where he was leading the other man.
The club district, because clubs have drunk people. Drunk people are annoying.
Bo's curious to see just how much it takes to incite that deadly anger of his.

Annoying just might not cut it. The first time it happened, he was provoked(albeit not very much) and the second time he was in a foul mood to begin with. The simple stupidity of a room of drunk people might not be what it takes to set him off. But then again, the cruelty that facilitates his outbreaks might not be very choosy. After all, that's what cruelty embodies.

The door was shut and they left the hotel, walking on the sidewalk without a lot of conversation between them. Keiblen followed every step that Bo took because he'd been in Bayfield longer and probably knew his way around the city. If Keiblen took them somewhere, they would most likely be lost very soon.

Then Keiblen got another strange notion in his head. He should pay attention to their surroundings. Not so that he can find his way around the area, but if something were to happen on the way, they wouldn't be caught in a corner with no resources to help them. His mind began working in the way it had at the coffee shop--sharp and wary.

That's exactly what Bo wants to find out: what it takes to make him mad, and how much it takes to subdue him afterwards.
Basically, he's experimenting. Still, it's not that bad; he doesn't intend to allow Keiblen to actually hurt anyone.

The other side of him, as Keiblen might begin to call it, really isn't normally satisfied until something is in pain or a screaming fear. And there's no telling what calls him back from it, it hasn't happened enough for him to figure it out.

They didn't talk, but no matter how amiable the silence might have been, it gave Keiblen time to think. He didn't like thinking, much. It always gave him time to think about things that had happened and things he didn't want ever to happen again. He didn't want to remember the satisfaction he felt when he heard the boy's bones break. He didn't want to feel thrill it gave him to hear the children and their parents scream.

With every step he put forward, the normal chill around him increased and left slight outlines where his feet fell. They melted away quickly enough in the beginning, but after a few yards they began to leave wet trails in their wake, as if he'd walked through a puddle that wasn't there and no one could find.

"People are going to notice something strange if you keep ice-ing like that."
He said it softly as if afraid of being overheard.
But the drunk, probably underage boy who barrelled into Keiblen was in no condition to notice much of anything.

Becoming colder was almost Keiblen's reaction to everything, he hadn't yet begun to separate it from his emotions. So when he was involved in a head-on collision with something drunk and male that caused him to fall to the ground, the minor on top of him, the air again began to crystalize onto his body. When he tried to push the person off of him, the extreme ice on his flesh stuck to the drunkard's clothes, making it difficult for them to separate.

The way that Keiblen's mind was set caused him to roughly kick the body off of him, effectively separating them and enabling him to get off the ground quickly and almost gracefully. The pattern of his thoughts prepared him to have to defend himself and put him at the ready. Keiblen's green eyes were hard and cold, but then they widened and blinked. He'd almost done it again. But this time he wasn't even upset in anyway, what was going on with him?

"You stopped it."
Test one passed. But that was only a minor stimulus.
"Good job."
Reward him for a job well done. Give the nice little lab-rat some cheese.
"Let me buy you a drink."

Bo often struggles with the attitude he has now.

"It didn't..feel the same..." it confused him, but he sure could go for a drink. One thing he figured out on his way to this town was that he enjoyed a good drink. Or two. Or perhaps more if he wasn't the one paying.

It had felt different...tamer, maybe? But not the same, definately not the same. It was in no way the burning rage that coursed through his frozen body before.

"I didn't think so. It was just a stumbling drunk kid; hardly a reason for anger."
He led Keiblen into the bar-esque place. He didn't order himself anything, waiting for Keiblen to make his request.

He ordered a whiskey, but wasn't Bo going to get anything? He asked.

The place wasn't bad, it wasn't very good either. The typical neighborhood pub. It probably had a name like 'Mike's Tavern' or something of the like.

"No thank you."
Bo would prefer to be absolutely sober, in order to best observe the behaviors of his new companion. But he didn't want the man to feel uncomfortable or on-guard, so he ordered a plate of onion rings.
"Do you drink often, Keiblen?"

The drink paused on its way up to his way and he thought about that. No, drinking couldn't be it. He hadn't had a decent drink since he came to the town. At least, hasn't had enough for a hangover. He certainly did his fair share of drinking and waking with headaches before he came here.

But he shook his head and answered no, "I used to, though," because he hated forgetting what happened when he went to bars. He'd already lost at least twenty-five years of his life and loathed the thought of losing the rest.

He didn't like union rings much, but ate them anyway.

"Why'd you used to?"
He ate an onion ring to disguise the razor-sharpness of his tone. He was collecting data...impersonally, and he knew it. And he didn't like it. He shook his head, trying to clear it. Un-clear it. Maybe that was the problem. His head was too clear.

He probably did it for the same reason half of the men here were.

"It was something to do," he looked at his whiskey then decided he wanted something cold. So instead, he ordered a beer. Once he got it, he lowered the temperature of his hand and arm way past the normal freezing point. The drink was fine but his mug was getting a little fragile. That was the good thing about alcohol, he decided.

"I stopped, though. I didn't like forgetting." He hadn't been addicted, only bored.

"Boredom. Good reason."
A little sarcasm there. Watch it, Bo.
And then, suddenly, there was the person he wanted to be, and compassion flooded into his voice.
"Are you afraid?"

For a moment the sarcasm made him feel bad. All the time that he'd known Bo, he'd been kind and at least tried to understand. It made Keiblen feel like someone cared and as much as he was open to new experiences and feelings(having had most of his life removed) the sarcasm wasn't welcome.

For a second, the voice had almost sounded male. But it changed again and Keiblen could no longer tell. He didn't want to figure Bo's sex out, so he didn't dwell on it.

He nodded and took another swig, "It's really strange, I don't like forgetting because I've already forgotten so much but..." he peered thoughtfully into his beer, "At the same time I want more than anything to forget the sound of those bones cracking and the way he screamed..."

His voice trailed off and he was caught in the memory, reliving the moments with painstaking accuracy.

Bo touched his arm, very lightly at first, and then he gripped it.
"I'm going to help you. I'll be here to take care of you...and I'll help you fight those urges."