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The Immortal Rules

By @choppedmint

Story 5

It was supposed to be cold. That’s what metal was supposed to feel like, but apparently that was just another limitation that greeted Samuel in this new life. He rapped his knuckles on the metal again, thinking. Couldn’t really feel great changes in heat or cold. That seemed like an odd side-effect, but he wasn’t sure what else to think about it.

“What don’t you have in here?” he called over his shoulder, to a person that wasn’t visible. The room was colorful to say the least. Full of colors and patterns and shapes and ruffles. All men’s clothing, Sam had been told, but he really couldn’t be sure considering some of the older pieces in here. Like the one he was wrapping his fist against. A full-fledged suit of armor. Helmet and everything.

“Why?” asked a male voice in return. “Did you find something odd?”

Sam looked around, wondering how Myrnin defined odd. Within a certain size rang (anything larger than Myrnin’s size was fine) and directed toward the male gender (grey areas were obvious, however. He had pink and flowers in here) then anything clothing wise could logical be in this large room. 

It had just been his intention to change out of the current over large t-shirt he was wearing. This goal had now completely been whipped from his brain. “You have a suit of armor,” he pointed out. “Just how old are you?”

Myrnin came into view. Well, at least his head did. Dark brown hair, tied back into a ponytail, which swung around his shoulders. He was currently wearing a long, Victorian style shift with ruffled sleeves and shorts that wouldn’t be out of place on a beach.

“That is a rather personal question,” he almost whined. It probably wasn’t a serious complaint, however.

He walked over, hands behind his back and eyes focusing on the suit of armor. A low ‘hummm’ echoed from his mouth. “I forgot I had this. Pretty old, your right. As for being mine.” He shrugged his shoulders, neither confirming or denying that he owned the suit of armor.

“Do you ever wear it?” questioned Sam, expecting to be surprised by the answer. But Myrnin shook his head. “Nah, too bulky. They used to have trouble with weight but that isn’t really a problem considering who I am.” The enhanced strength, he meant.

Sam looked at him for a very long second and then grinned. It was the sort of grin you gave when you knew the other person wouldn’t like what you were grinning about. “Put it on,” he suggested, pointing an index finger at the helmet.

Myrnin looked right back at him and shook his head several times, back and forth. He was smiling, however, amused at the request. “Why?”

“You need a reason for that?” questioned Samuel, laughing. “You wear anything, at any time, like it’s no big deal. But you won’t put on a metal pot.”

“That’s a rather accurate description,” said Myrnin, lifting the helmet. He shook it, as if expecting to hear something. “Gotta check to see if it’s occupied first.” It was the desert. There were all sorts of creepy crawlies around. And then Myrnin gave into Samuel’s whim and set it over his head, looking though the *****. “Happy?” his voice both echoed and was muffled.

Sam was grinning from ear to ear and started circling the older vampire. “Hum …” it was a sort of sound Myrnin felt he should start to dread. “Maybe the boots?”

Myrnin rolled his eyes, though that was useless, because Samuel couldn’t see them. “You just want me to slowly put on the whole thing, don’t you?” He didn’t need to see Sam to get the sneaky affirmative. “Yes, yes, I thought it would be that way.” He shrugged, though the helmet hindered this. It wasn’t like either of them had to be anyway.

“Ah … but!” and idea came to him and he pulled out one of the shirts with ruffles on the sleeves and shoved it in Sam’s direction. His aim was pretty good for someone who couldn’t see very well. Sam looked at the shirt. “Oh.” Was his only, resigned statement. But he shrugged, wiggling the adult’s shirt over his head. It sat on him like a tent. Myrnin grinned inside the helmet and fitted the next bit of armor on. It continued in this way until Myrnin looked like a medieval advertisement for a blacksmith’s shop and Sam looked like a shrunken man from the 1600s inside his new getup. Both were almost in tears, but it was hard to tell if it was from how ridiculous they looked or how silly the other did. Either way, it was one of the first days that they both could actually smile and smile about nothing. Something they both needed.

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