Time Under Chaos | TimeUnderChaos / Johann/Damien Backstory browse

OOC: The following takes place in Victor Earth, the personal shadow of Johann and Damien, roughly in yr +64 (one year before both returned to Amber).

It contains violence and innuendo that would probably land it an "R" rating in the movie theatre.

In Texorami, Johann and Damien had sparred often. These were long, drawn out affairs which were part fight, part game, and part mutual instruction.

Most often, it was Damien who won these matches. He was stronger, faster, and a superior observer when the two began, and as Johann grew into his own style Damien was there as it was invented. Even when Johann became the stronger of the two, Damien's superior endurance and flexibility allowed him to win the sometimes day-long matches.

Thoughts of this had filled Johann since their last bout, three months ago. Damien had been advancing his own trading interests as a Skylord of the Brentish Empire, and Johann was wrapping up his retirement as Governor in The Texorami States. There was some pressure for him to run for President, but he would rather remain a reclusive advisor than a full-time statesman.

Damien had arrived in the quiet hours before dawn, the night before, in his flying yacht. Johann would have preferred to have been awoken to greet him, but he had apparently insisted on delaying that greeting for the following morning so that Johann's sleep would continue uninterrupted. He had to know that Johann would be awoken by even the quietest of preparations of the guest quarters adjoining his own room, or the mooring of his vessel. Johann had lain awake in bed for several hours, wondering why Damien had chosen this particular moment to drop by, and why he 'hadn't wished to intrude.'

In the end, he didn't return to sleep before dawn broke. He rose, donned his cotton robe, and padded his way towards breakfast on the patio. On his way through the kitchen, he instructed Basil, his cook, on what to prepare. He watched the sun rise over the mountains while he waited.

By the time his eggs, bacon, and percolated coffee were being set before him, Damien had emerged in his own silk robe in his preferred dark colors. Basil returned moments later with green tea in a porcelain cup, a flaky crescent-shaped roll, and a ripe grapefruit which had been imported at great cost on the chance that Damien should drop by.

"I must say, I'm impressed with the changes you've made in just the last few months... it was April when you started constructing the library, and it is nearly completed, is it not?" Damien asked cheerfully enough as he indicated the new wing with a slow wave of his hand.

Johann merely nodded, and smiled a fraction.

"Still fond of that whole 'brevity is the soul of wit' business, eh?" Damien said with a smirk.

"And I've not finished my coffee..." Johann replied as his smile broadened.

"So, tell me... I've gotten your letters, as well as your latest manuscript. I know you're healthy, and that your involvement in local politics is waning. The manuscript was quite well written, if a bit naive...What else is there to know... I sense there are things on your mind," Damien said before taking a slurping sip of tea. "Yes... two things. Amber, and another thing," Johann said slowly.

"I'm quite aware of your position on Amber. You wish to return, and to make a difference. I've counselled that 'now is not the time' for some time now, that there was more to learn and more preparations to make. I still think that you haven't grasped the situation we'll face when we return..." Damien said, concern evident in his voice. His full attention was now on Johann's face, rather than the rather austerely beautiful landscape behind him.

"I'll learn that here better than there?" Johann probed. This had the rhythm of the old argument, but this was a new twist.

Damien paused. This was a good point, a subtle point. Several of his past arguments to stay in Victor Earth a little bit longer, that 'the time would be right for his return in a few more years', that 'there was still more to learn'... all must be contrasted against the distinct differences both men knew existed between Victor Earth and Amber.

"Perhaps we should plan to return, but I want to think on it. We'd both need to acquire property, funds... I wouldn't wish to arrive on the Castle stoop a pauper, with my fine hat in my well-manicured hands asking for a room. The Castle is right out, so long as Merlin and Mandor are in power... but Amber City itself, perhaps we could return in one year's time, as they measure in Amber... but tell me, what is this other thing?" Damien said, placing additional emphasis on his question at the end in an effort to hold his ground at one year.

Johann was surprised that Damien didn't deflect the question immediately. That he was willing to consider the proposal was encouraging, but he would need to prepare himself for another round of argumentation. He could, of course, simply change his mind and present a new argument.

"Our boxing... I can beat you in a real fight," Johann said as his smile opened to reveal a feral grin.

"Oh, you think so, do you... but in a real fight, the stakes would be ever so much higher. I should think we would both fight all the harder to avoid forfeiting our lives... nor would I be eager to kill or maim you simply to prove the point in authentic conditions. Surely you have something in mind?"

Johann explained quite simply what he had in mind as a forfeit. Damien blushed, and remained dumbfounded for several moments while he considered what the other man had suggested. He would be quite embarrassed if he agreed, and Johann later revealed he had been jesting. Finally, he concluded Johann was not this good at bluffing.

"Alright then... after dinner?" Damien suggested with uncharacteristic brevity, and perhaps a touch of nervousness in his voice.

Johann nodded, and both men returned to more casual conversation about the development of trans-oceanic trade, poetry, and other topics of mutual interest.

Johann showed Damien the new developments at his ranch, as well as some things he was working on in his workshop. He had given up attempting to build a steam-powered pistol that would work in accordance with his understanding of Amber's physics, and was instead focusing on a more efficient (and smaller) printing press.

Damien was duly impressed, especially with Johann's nascent propaganda campaign in Amber.

The day continued on through lunch. A few local notables, including one gentleman who had gone to school with both of them, dropped by in the middle of the afternoon. While Johann had gotten out of the habit of an afternoon tea, he could still give Basil the requisite culinary instructions. The guests departed before dark. After they had prepared dinner, Johann dismissed the servants early and provided them with sufficient funds to have a night on the town on him.

Both men returned to their rooms silently after dinner, and donned clothing they thought appropriate to the occasion. Johann wore boxers trunks, while Damien favored even less, in the style of Landis.

They met in the den, and acknowledged each other with a nod. Johann opened the door to the basement, and Damien quickly padded down the stairs to the ring prepared in the sub-basement. By unspoken agreement, their match would not begin until both had entered the chamber.

Johann had taken great care in preparing the room. The ceiling was supported by rough-hewn columns he had carved and set in place by hand, and the floor was even, polished squares of white and black marble. Several crystals placed around the ceiling of the room illuminated the chamber with a faint glow. It was a circular chamber, fifteen feet in height and perhaps thirty in diameter, with only the one door.

As Damien padded around the chamber, he noted that the marble stones were warm, rather than cool, below his feet. "This is quite some room you've carved..." Damien commented as Johann cautiously entered, then shut the door behind himself with a soft click. Johann simply nodded in reply to the question asked.

"Shall we begin by... oof," Damien started as Johann crossed the room amidst the sound of running feet slapping on marble and delivered a thrusting toe kick to Damien's midsection. The slighter man bent over backwards with the blow, then rolled to either side and slapped away a series of quick jabs. Johann was grinning.

"What was it Gerard said... 'if I get my hands on you but once, Corwin''," Johann joked as Damien backpedaled to avoid Johann's reach and speed. Johann opened his hand to grab for Damien's wrist, only to have his fingers struck by Damien's other closed fist. Johann's grin turned to a wince as several fingers were jammed at once.

Johann grasped his fingers with his free hand and pulled to set them on the spot while stomping for Damien's foot. Damien, for his own part, was able to maneuvers his foot behind the calf of the leg Johann was standing on. With seemingly effortless grace, he pushed Johann in the torso and sent him falling over backwards. Johann landed in a roll, but Damien was right behind him kicking at his back before he could complete his revolution.

Once Johann had his feet under him again, however, he once again pressed the attack. Johann landed a powerful punch on his way up from a crouch, and Damien was lifted from his feet and sent crashing backwards into the wall behind. Both men heard some of Damien's ribs crack, but he landed on his feet and once again resumed circling his opponent.

Both men unleashed countless successions of brutal maneuvers against one another, Damien striking precisely at vulnerable points of his opponents anatomy and unleashing feigns within feigns, Johann trying to land a true blow to a vulnerable point of anatomy or gain the upper hand in a clinch without having a thumb jabbed into his eye or having his strength used against him to send his face crashing into the rock.

Both were covered in a sheen of sweat, a rainbow of fresh cuts and bruises, and neither was as quick or elegant in his motions as he had been at the beginning of the fight. Although they had each avoided permanent injury so far, many of the moves they had attempted posed serious risks had they landed as intended. Their earlier banter and cursing had drawn to a close, as each sought to conserve what energy he had left.

Finally, both men stood there panting in the center of the room. "Maybe... we should call it a draw, my old friend?" Damien asked, blood trickling from above his right eye, which was swollen shut.

As Johann opened his mouth to answer, he instead answered with a lightning-fast roundhouse punch to Damien's blind side. Damien, however, had anticipated this. While Johann had done his best to hide his intent, Damien had always been able to read Johann better than perhaps even himself. Damien closed and bit at Johann's ear even as the tips of his fingers struck hard into his throat and solar plexus. Johann fell backwards in shock and pain, with Damien landing on top of him heavily. Now with the tips of both fingertips pointed directly at his throat, Johann croaked "I yield..."

Finally, Damien rolled Johann over onto his stomach.

                                 *****

The next morning, Damien was not surprised to find Johann sitting at the foot of the bed rolling a mixture of tobacco and marijuana into a cigarette wrapper by hand. The servants still had not returned from their night on the town, if the lack of early morning kitchen noises was any indication of their presence or absence.

"You've been in favor of this for a long time?" Damien asked as he rubbed sleep from an eye, only to learn it was still quite sore from the past evening.

Johann simply nodded, and worked to light his latest creation. After it had been lit and he'd taken a hit, he offered it to Damien who waved it off. Johann moved to the open window, and enjoyed the feeling of the dawn's first rays of light his skin.

"Me too, I suppose... it feels good to have that tension between us resolved," Damien said with a lop-sided grin.

"So... you wanted to know how two such as ourselves could come to trust one another," Johann asked rhetorically.

Damien nodded.

"You meant what you said?" Johann asked.

"Always," Damien promised.

ooc: The following is the second section of the Johann/Damien backstory. It is set in +85 (and is roughly 21 years later for both, both objectively and subjectively.) Although it starts humorous, it is darker than the preceding post.

Johann awoke with a grin on his face. The night's labors had been entertaining in the extreme. He had removed all of the brass plaques which Mandor's agents had placed throughout Corwin's Folly to relate his 'revised' history to any who stopped to read them. He still didn't know what he'd fashion them into, although if Damien's research ever came through, a cannon might be appropriate.

It was still the gray hours of early morning, but Johann dressed with the same hurried eagerness as a child on Christmas morning. He would go to his favorite cafe and watch people's reactions as they saw the new plaques he had placed, which indicated the actual events which had transpired in Corwin's Folly when Mandor took the city.

Johann's initial eagerness slowly faded as the morning drew on, to the point where his waiter approached him with cagey caution for fear of becoming the target of whatever rage was brewing within his customer. After his fifth cup of coffee, with the sun high in the sky, he slapped funds on the table and walked over to a crowd of people who had just passed before the plaque without noticing it was different.

Johann grabbed one man by the shoulder with one hand, and pointed at the plaque. "Read it!"

The man nervously obliged Johann, then shrugged, then flinched at Johann's reaction to his indifference. Johann then turned, and read the plaque he thought he had placed the night before... only to learn it was one of the hundred plaques he had removed, freshly polished and returned to its correct location.

He stormed off, back towards the home on the hill he shared with Damien. There were other people in the city who could have replaced the plaques with copies on short notice... but few other than Damien who could have obtained, polished, and returned them in the hours between when he had gone to bed and when the day had dawned. Especially when Johann considered where he had hidden them.

Johann slammed the door so hard behind himself that it shattered the jam and irreparably damaged the hinges. The servants scattered before the echos of the slam had faded. "Damien! What did you do!" he bellowed.

Damien came down the stairs swiftly, but it was immediately apparent he was fatigued. His eyes were bloodshot, and rather than address Johann immediately he went for the turkish coffee the preparation of which was almost complete. Johann dashed it from his hands, heedless of the heat.

"What did you do with my plaques!" Johann demanded.

"I didn't do anything with -your- plaques, Johann," Damien said softly and with a sigh.

"Bullsh-t! I spent half the night replacing them, then stashed them on Victor Earth. What did you do?!?" he again demanded.

"Johann, my dear... I spent the other half of the night first locating what you'd done with them, after a neighbor kindly pointed out the change on his way home from a late night at the public house. I then had to find the appropriate location for each, and polish them to remove signs of their hasty..."

"AAaghh... how could you betray me like this! You swore up and down that the usual family nonsense wouldn't occur between us. Such a petty betrayal! Damn you!" Johann interrupted explosively, shaking Damien by the shoulders.

"Get out. Come back when you've calmed down, and we can talk about this then. Go to Victor Earth and go for a ride or some..." Damien said before he was forced to break off what he was saying to duck a slap that could stave in a steel drum.

"You swore!" Johann repeated as he balled his fists and sought to master his red-faced anger.

"I swore," Damien hissed through clenched teeth, "that I would never betray you, and I haven't. I won't. Ever... what I have done, I have done for your own good. There was hardly time to argue with you about it, and then set everything right... there barely wasn't time to fix it before anyone else noticed in the first place. I was -going- to tell you this morning, but you left..."

"You did this for me? Huh?... are you sure it wasn't to preserve your precious trading company, your comfortable little life?" Johann jeered.

"I did it for us... to keep you alive, and to spare me the pain of losing you to the headman's noose. What do you suppose they'd think... that some neighborhood kids had built a bronze monument foundry in their nonexistent sandboxes and cast satirical replicas of..."

"When are you going to f'cking stand for something, Damien. Tell me that... when are you going to stick your neck out?" Johann asked tiredly. This was an old argument, and one that often ended by Damien changing the subject.

Damien tried his usual tact, but Johann shoved him away, hard.

This had happened before... but before, there had not been a knife on the table behind him. The counter yielded as he crashed through the soft wood, but the knife upon it did not. It entered Damien's back with a sudden cold shock, like an icicle, as he crashed through the pine countertop and landed atop the blade.

Johann's eyes opened wide, and he rushed forward to try to help. Damien saw the shock in his eyes, but wasn't about to allow Johann to close - just in case. His kick twisted the knife in his own back, and nearly ruptured one of Johann's own vital organs.

"Get out... I don't want to speak of politics with you again, not until you're willing to conduct yourself as you should, rather than some pathetic childling," Damien spat down at him, as Johann rolled on the floor. The knife came out as coldly as it went in, and clattered with viscous droplets beside Johann's blond locks.

"I'll mail you your things... just get out... Get-out, Get-out, Get-out!" Damien yelled and sobbed as he herded Johann out the door on hands and knees with kicks to the head and ribs. These did not hurt Johann nearly as much as what he himself had done.