#—— ft. madison mccarthy | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

lunarmadison · 7 years ago

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and carry me home in good health | 5.21.17

WHO: Madison McCarthy, ft. Éabha and a surprise special guest! WHAT: Madison fights. She keeps fighting. And she lives to see another day. But is that enough? Is that all there is? WARNINGS: Violence, blood, injury, gore, child endangerment.

NOTES: This is PART TWO, continued from ‘deep in this sleeplessness’ posted yesterday. It is also quite long, so be advised of that!

SUNDAY:

Dawn broke, and Madison stretched herself awake after a long night. She hadn’t slept much. Éabha’s questions -- her own questions -- spun circles through her mind, repeating themselves without answer, and spawning yet more questions. Two days hardly felt like enough time for Madison to put herself back together.

No, not back together.

A second EverEnergy bar and a bottle of water were her silent breakfast. Madison was still hungry, but she couldn’t find the third bar that she swore she’d packed. It was neither in the pages of her book nor in the bag itself. That was odd, but she probably just forgot how many she brought in her rush to pack. She put her trash back into her bag and swept up the campsite, leaving as little trace of her presence as possible. With a sigh, she looked ahead, into the woods. Long branches reached towards her, beckoning her to venture further in. There was adventure ahead. There was more waiting for her. The very concept of spending a full two weeks alone like this, now, with all that she had learned in the past several years, was enticing, but --

She had responsibilities back on campus. She had two classes, each with a full semester’s worth of work packed into the tight six weeks of summer term. She had a brother who was no doubt already worrying about her, and she had friends that she was trying desperately to reconnect with. As enticing as it was, she knew she couldn’t stay, so she turned to head back the way she came, and began walking. The path was clear, the sun was bright, and soft green leaves brushed her skin as the denizens of the forest flitted about her in their daily business. She almost thought she heard laughter -- and maybe she did. The Aether was strong here, although it had been stronger the last time she’d been here.

So much had been so different the last time she’d left these woods.

Rain poured down on a cold and frightened little girl. Dark hair hung in wet strands around her face, and stained, torn clothing clung to her small body. Madison couldn’t remember when her last meal had been. The rations had been consumed days ago; how many days, she couldn’t be sure. She had lost count of how long she’d spent here. She’d measured days with notches sliced into the lower limb of her bow, with the intent to make them a reminder of how long she had survived this hell, a testament to the fact that she could certainly weather less tempestuous personal storms when she had this under her belt -- but her bow had broken.

So had her arm.

She’d patched it up to the best of her ability, with torn clothing keeping the wound closed, but she had nothing to replace the makeshift bandage, and nothing to keep it disinfected. Restorative magic was beyond her; she’d seen the way the healers at the compound simply laid on hands or applied healing salves, as the magic from their shining circles flowed into bodies and put together Slayers that had been in worse condition than this.

A broken arm and a broken bow meant she couldn’t hunt. Not hunting meant she couldn’t eat. Not eating meant she wouldn’t survive, even if the arm remained uninfected. Madison was loathe to succumb to the only guaranteed way out; she was put here because she was ready for the test, because her teachers knew that she was capable of survival in this forest on her own. Nonetheless, she pulled out the stone disk, roughly the size of her palm, with one side polished to a mirrored shine and the other inscribed with a complicated sigil. It was the only magical item that she was allowed to use on this test, and if she used it, she forfeited her grade. She’d be giving up if she activated it. She’d be admitting defeat. And that was unacceptable for the heir to the McCarthy clan.

Éabha glided down to rest on Madison’s shoulder as they covered a relatively facile stretch of the path. ‘Still not talking?’ she asked, teasing.

Madison hummed thoughtfully, pushing a bit of branch out of the way. “Still thinking,” she said, “about what you said last night.”

Éabha tutted audibly, mimicking the chastising call of a real raven. ‘You know I’m right.’

“Of course you are,” Madison replied, like there was never any question to the matter. Éabha was Madison’s familiar; she was a part of her soul made manifest by the Aether, so she knew all the things that Madison did, but hadn’t been able to articulate or admit to herself. She knew Madison better than even Mason did. Better than Madison herself did.

‘So -- did you find what you were looking for?’

“I --”

Wind brushed Madison’s skin. A shadow blotted the overhead light. Talons approached.

Madison jumped out of the way, drawing knives from her belt before she could even process the shape of the danger. She fell back into a defensive pose, surveying the creature that had landed in her path.

A huge feline, with sleek, green-black fur that shined in the patches of light that filtered through the leaves, it was larger than the panther that it seemed to resemble. Deadly bone spikes marched down its spine in twin rows, as sharp and threatening as the claws on its paws and teeth in its mouth.

Slaying without a contract was illegal. Slaying in self-defense was circumstantial. Madison tried to remind herself of that, but legality was the furthest thing from her mind as a giant paw swiped at her.

She dodged. She avoided another swipe with a tuck and roll, unfolding herself to standing behind the monster. A split second to discern a weakness. An attack from behind was unlikely. Above was plain stupid, with the spikes to deter enemies. Its long tail swished, brushing her knees, and the next thing Madison knew, it was facing her.

Long tendrils uncoiled from its shoulder blades, dancing above its head like thick green vines. The end of each was coated with translucent goo that dripped menacingly onto the forest floor and smelled like rotting fruit.

She’d smelled that before.

Young Madison had, thankfully, lost the not-cat in the dark shadows of the night, and she doubled over in her place, hands braced on knees as she tried to catch her breath. It had been a close fight, and she’d walked away with deep wounds on her arm and the kind of pain that she couldn’t ignore for too long. Her bow was gone, dropped in the thick of the fight and unrecoverable; it was nothing compared to Madison escaping and living to fight another day. A sickly sweet scent floated on the air, a spiky shadow loomed behind her, and she barely had time to register that it was the same monster before she felt a hot, sticky substance drip onto her skin. It burned where it met flesh, and then she felt nothing. Not even the pain of what was surely a broken arm. She didn’t pause to think, didn’t stop to strategize -- she ran. And kept running, kept moving, ignoring the sting of tears on her dirty face and the burning in her overworked muscles until she could find a place to stop and activate her sole ticket out of the forest. It was time to go home.

It’d paralyze her.

It was almost poetic, in a way, that the same type of monster that had forced Madison to give up all those years ago now stood blocking the way out. Running wasn’t an option this time. Running would only push her further into the forest, and the Vinecat no doubt knew the territory far better than she did.

<< Extend, >> Madison murmured, thumb pressed to the sigils on the hilts of each small knife. The blades lengthened in her hands, sharp steel growing to match the size of the threat. This was not the time for forgiveness. This was not the time for peace. Only one of them was going to walk away from this.

The vinecat charged forward, all four of its paralyzing tendrils aiming for Madison. She spun, she swerved, and she sliced clean through the head of one long tentacle, separating the poisonous gland from the limb. The vinecat howled, but the pain didn’t hinder it; a claw cut across Madison’s arm, but she held onto the knife. She raised her other hand to spear its shoulder and sliced through furry hide, black blood dripping from the wound, and she fell back again. She had a second to regroup. Breathe. Right.

Everything had a weakness. The tentacles were protecting something. The spines were defensive. Inside … gross, but maybe. << Sigil stones, to me, >> she summoned, and the small pack floated from the back of her bag, still slung tight over her shoulders, and hovered in the air beside her. She selected a few and dismissed the pouch.

That was all the time she had. “Hey, bet you can’t roar like me!” she taunted, laughing as she gave chase, daring the vinecat to follow her. “ROAR! ROOOAR!”

Her mother would call her an idiot. Madison could practically see Margaret’s disapproving glare, the way she’d fold her arms and shake her head at her impossible, potentially insane daughter. The way she’d wonder aloud to her husband how on earth these children could have possibly been born from their genes.

In the shadow of a deadly vinecat, dodging claws and tentacles alike, Madison Laurel McCarthy didn’t give a fuck. Another gland came off under her blade. Claws sank into her skin, and this time, she allowed it to happen, allowed the pain that came with torn flesh and the burning poison that dripped from the tendrils overhead. “Yeah, what’s that?” she asked. “You’re gonna eat me? Yeah, I bet you’d like to do that. I bet you think I’m delicious.”

She could smell its sickening breath looming closer, feel the weight of its sharp paw pinning her to the ground. The paralyzing poison hissed when it landed on her shoulder and rolled down her arm.

<< Explode, >> she cast, the green energy from her circle igniting the small sigil stone in her opposite hand. It glowed, radiating heat and magic, full of the power that came with Madison’s confidence. “Eat this.”

She tossed the sigil down the vinecat’s throat.

Madison heard the boom echo through the forest, and then she felt the explosion rip apart the beast on top of her from the inside. Flesh and guts scattered. Blood and poison goo sprayed and spattered. Half the monster was still on top of her, still warm, claws still pressing into her skin. Madison barely moved. Barely breathed. Waited until she knew that it was, without a doubt, completely dead. It felt like forever.

But then she was sure. Madison rolled and hefted the front half of the vinecat off of her body, wincing as she pulled the claws out of her skin, leaving puncture wounds in a wide arc across her chest. Her left arm hung limp at her side, already succumbed to the paralyzing poison.

She had to get out of here fast if she didn’t want that to be permanent.

Young Madison was still crying when the helicopter descended from above. She heard it before she saw it, cloaked as it was with McCarthy wards; even the noise it made was a dull echo of the sound it would make without the magic. The door opened, revealing the face of her father floating in the air above her, and at the sight of him a huge, thick lump rose in her throat. She’d failed. She’d failed and she needed to be extracted because she couldn’t cut it. A long chain ladder unfurled from the open door, and with one useless arm, Madison couldn’t climb it properly, so she held on with her good hand and allowed herself to be raised into the vehicle.

Her father’s strong arms encircled her tightly, and he pulled her into an embrace against his body. She could feel the heat radiating off of him, and hear his heart beating loud in his chest, racing like he’d been working out. Or scared. But that was impossible. In this embrace, in the helicopter, flying far away from this stupid forest, Madison felt her own body wracking with great sobs, her body heaving of its own volition, like there was too much emotion for her small frame to contain. Her father’s familiar magic circle lit up the small space, and she felt the familiar energy of his healing magic entering her body, stitching her wounds and pushing the toxin out of her system.

“Don’t cry, Maddie,” Shane said. It did nothing to calm the girl. “You’re going home.”

Madison willed herself to stop crying to the best of her ability, standing straight and pulling her quivering lip between her teeth. “I f-f- I failed,” she blurted, through sobs that try as she might, she couldn’t control. “I couldn’t make it until -- until the moon reappeared. After the, the new moon. I couldn’t. I --” The fear swallowed up her words, the lump in her throat choking her off.

“Madison,” Shane cautioned, but rested a gentle arm around her shoulder, putting enough distance between them that he could fix her with his eyes. “It was a survival test. You survived.”

She survived.

Looking up, she spotted Éabha swooping through branches, attempting to avoid a creature of her own -- but nothing so vicious as a vinecat. Madison didn’t recognize the critter, a fluffy little thing with big eyes and big ears, grabbing after her familiar’s feathers with tiny paws like a raccoon’s. “Éabha, quit playing! We’ve gotta go.”

‘It’s trying to eat me!’ Éabha insisted, but fluttered down to Madison’s shoulder all the same. At least near her witch she was protected.

“It’s not going to eat you,” Madison said. “The vinecat didn’t eat me. This little guy is definitely not going to eat you. Besides, you’re not even a real raven. And you could peck its eyes out if you wanted!”

‘I’m still going back in the book,’ Éabha insisted, and pulled open the clasp on Madison’s bag with her beak before wriggling inside.

The critter, such as it was, scampered down the tree trunk and towards Madison. It was about the size of a squirrel, and looked up at her with wide, adorable eyes, and something like a smile on its face. She’d never seen anything like it before in her life, even after a semester of cryptozoology and a lifetime of memorizing what could and couldn’t kill you in the magical world.

“You’re not going to eat my familiar, are you?” she asked, weary, like it could answer. Madison didn’t have time for this, anyway; she needed to find the portal back to NYADA as soon as possible. She looked up to make sure she was on the right path, and nodded as she forged ahead in the right direction.

When she looked again, the fuzzy little thing didn’t seem to be anywhere in sight. Éabha clearly wanted to sleep, and Madison needed to recover as well, so she kept walking until she got to the portal and finally, blessedly, made her way back to campus.

She needed a shower.

But before that, she needed healing and in a big way. Her items weren’t going to cut it, so she checked herself into the hospital, where she fully planned to spend the rest of the day.

She survived. Just like she’d survived back then. Just like she’d survived her first year: with her head above the water, dodging the threats, running between the trees. It wasn’t about plans or lack of them. It wasn’t about classes or friendships or boyfriends or any of the myriad things she’d fought like vicious vinecats over the twenty and a half years of her life.

There was more than just surviving.

It was time to live.

#para: self #para: all

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mchumsindie · 8 years ago

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we're better at making time pass from one to the other there's nothing that we'll ever find hard until we get in each other's ways.

--------------------------------------------------------- multimuse. multiverse. selective. penned by mae.

ft. muses from fandoms such as shameless (fiona gallagher, ian gallagher), glee (kurt hummel, atticus hummel, madison mccarthy), crazy ex girlfriend (rebecca bunch), original characters, & more.

( est. january 2017 )

#in which i do not know how to do graphics so this is tHE BEST ITS GONNA GET #indie rp #glee indie rp #shameless rp #crazy ex girlfriend rp #self promo.

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littlefaerose · 8 years ago

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walking on a wire through the fear (take my hand, we’ll get there)

WHO: Marley Rose (ft. Olivia Wisteria and Lila Lily)

WHERE: Sciron Square, Room #401

WHEN: Wednesday, April 19th, 2017

WHAT: There’s nothing quite like a spontaneous intrusion, followed by a quasi-intervention. Kind of.

WARNING(S): vague descriptive mentionings of death (??)

She didn’t hear the first initial knock at the door.

She was almost finished writing her final paper for her Sex, Genders and Culture class - while the topic was controversial among her own kind, she’d decided to take on the topic of ‘ace-normativity’ among Fae - and the continuous clacking of her keyboard along with her music playing low had blocked out any other sounds. She paused long enough to skim over the current paragraph she was editing when a second, more insistent banging came, distracting her from her laptop screen. She wasn’t expecting company today, was she?

“Just a minute!” she called as she hastily finished typing out her thought, hoping to get to the door and squeeze her way out to see who was interrupting her, but without warning her door flew open, making her whip around in her chair.

‘Geez, Marley, you’re such a slow- WOAH.’

She recognized the voice immediately. And immediately panicked.

See, the fact of the matter was that while she had been in a somewhat better mood the last week, the tree-like thing in the middle of her dorm room had not shrunk much past the small increment it had the night Mason’s first letter had arrived. It still wound and twisted and had a bit of a life of its own, creaking as it stretched out its roots, expanding or pulling back in depending on the minute fluctuations of her mood. It was manageable, all things considered, but she hadn’t let anyone into her room ever since the thing had sprung to life. And for good reason.

‘What the fresh hell is this??’ Olivia exclaimed as she took a step back from the twist of branches that extended out toward the front door.

“Why didn’t you wait for me to answer??” Marley answered in return, her cheeks flaming in embarrassment as she realized that not only had Olivia seen the manifestation of her lack of control, but that she had not come alone. Just as she ducked beneath a series of roots to reach Olivia, a red-haired woman stepped out and around from behind the taller girl, her eyes slightly widened in surprise as well. Oh Aether.

‘It looks like some kind of tree…?’ Lila offered, then looked to Marley questioningly.

If there was ever a more mortifying moment in the entirety of her life, Marley couldn’t remember what it was right then. This trumped it all.

“Is there a reason you’re both here unannounced?” she brushed past, making quick work of shutting the door behind all three of them. “I was in the middle of finishing a paper.”

‘Well you haven’t exactly been answering my texts or other attempts to contact you for the last - aether, what has it been now, a month? Two?’ Olivia asked, arms folding across her chest as she looked to Lila for confirmation.

‘Sounds about right,’ Lila nodded, the surprise disappearing from her expression and replaced with something more akin to concern. ‘Actually, it was my idea. I’m sorry for us barging in, but you’ve been laying low for quite some time now, it seems.’

Marley huffed but led the way further inside her room, guiding them through a maze of roots and branches back to her desk. “I’ve been busy. Schoolwork, my photography portfolio, the like,” she offered up lamely. She didn’t even really believe herself anymore.

‘And that’s understandable, of course,’ Lila continued, pausing on one side of Marley’s desk. ‘It’s just that we’re a little bit concerned.’

“You don’t need to be-”

‘Stop that,’ Olivia interrupted her. ‘I’m tired of hearing this bullsh-’

‘Olivia,’ Lila cut in, gently but firmly. Olivia’s mouth set into a thin line but she quieted. Lila then turned her attention back to Marley. ‘I know I personally have been meaning to come speak with you about the LNWA. You know - the club you so passionately pitched to me and convinced me to join?’

Marley cringed. “I haven’t had the time…” she said.

‘Actually, I think you have,’ Lila replied, nothing malicious or accusatory in her tone, but Marley couldn’t help feeling like she was starting to get backed into a corner. ‘I noticed that you haven’t been to any of the recent meetings, none at all really since the new year began. And I haven’t heard a peep from you or anyone else about this petition you were working on.’

“I gave that over to Madison McCarthy,” Marley explained. “She was one of the few others who was interested in the activism part of the club, and she was helping me with it before. She’s taking over it if you really want to know more about it.”

‘That’s fine and all, but what I’m really concerned about is the sudden lack of passion for these causes that meant so much to you not that long ago.’

Olivia chose then to chime in. ‘Look, I know losing Millie has been hard and at first you seemed to be making an effort to get better, but… honestly, I’m beginning to wonder if you’re not just worse off than you were before,’ she said.

“I’m-” Marley stopped herself before either girl could tell her to. She’d been saying she was fine for so long and it was clearly getting her nowhere. “Okay, fine, maybe I’m worse off, maybe I’m just not ‘okay’ yet. But I have a full plate and that leaves little room for personal matters like that.”

‘Marley, you’ve sequestered yourself into this room,’ Olivia argued, ‘you’re stuck in here with this massive tree thing - and judging by how out of control it is, I can only assume you didn’t intend for it to even grow here - and when you’re not here, you’re keeping company with the likes of Victoria Violet or those other conservative Fae. Not to mention I can’t remember the last time I saw you hanging out with any of your real friends.’

“It’s complicated.”

‘Everything is always fu-’

‘OLIVIA. Language!’ Lila admonished.

‘Sorry, geez - everything is always complicated with you, Marley,’ Olivia huffed. ‘You’re always making things ten times harder than they should or could be. So why don’t you uncomplicate them and talk to us. Tell us what’s going on.’

Marley looked between both girls and sighed again. Were they right? Was she making this more complicated than it needed to be? And would it really kill her to talk to someone about what had been going on with her since February?

It’s not like she could tell her real friends anything about the Fae… but…

“Fine,” she relented, raking a hand through her hair as she tried to figure out where to even begin. “Here’s what’s going on.”

~*~

‘It’s time to stop acting like a sapling, my Dog Rose,’ Raphaelle drawled. ‘You’ve had your fun but it is time to buckle down and show where your true loyalty lies.’

Marley shook in her spot, rooted (not literally but close enough) to the ground. She couldn’t take her eyes off the strange and creepy abomination of a flower, upon which their ambassador’s face was affixed, upside down. In any other situation, this might be comical. But with Raphaelle Le Fay? It was just downright scary.

‘There is a time coming when you will need to put aside this frivality and face the responsibilities that come with being the Flowerchild of Prophecy,’ she continued, flexing her leaves and petals as she spoke.

“But I’m not-”

‘I have eyes everywhere, Dog Rose. And while you have been having fun with your unorthodox group of ‘friends’, you have neglected your sisters. You have pushed them to the sidelines rather than offering to stand united with them.’

Marley’s cheeks flamed green as she ducked her head in shame.

“My people are no less important to me,” she insisted. “I still want to help… I still want unity…” Just maybe not quite exactly the same unity the Fae had right then. “I promise you, my alignment is still with the Fae. I want to help them.”

‘Then it’s time to start showing it,’ Raphaelle replied. ‘I am capable of many great things, my Dog Rose. I still wish to help you with your fallen sister… I could find ways to bring her back. And… while I shudder to think of such alliances, there could come a day in the future when Fae would not have to worry about the dire implications that come with being with the Humans. I hold the power to bring about such changes, but I need a united front among my most influential sisters. Our future-makers.’ The upside-down face studied her own right-side-up one, and Marley shifted again nervously. ‘I need to know that I can trust our Flowerchild of Prophecy.’

Marley swallowed thickly. “Whatever it is I need to do… I’ll do it,” she promised, trying to ignore the sinking feeling that went with it. “Just tell me what I need to do to prove myself.”

‘The next Promenade will be in May of this year,’ the flower nodded. ‘I need to see a marked change in you, my Dog Rose. Find common ground with your sisters. Show us all who your true priority it is. And if there is not a significant change to be found at that time…’ The sentence ended there and hung in the air, leaving Marley feeling a certain sense of dread. What did she mean? What consequences would accompany a lack of change?

“I’ll fix this,” she answered, “I promise.”

~*~

‘I told you,’ Olivia shook her head, pacing what small space was available for them to move around in. ‘I told you she would use this stupid prophecy business to her advantage. Clearly, she’s manipulating you. For what reason, I don’t know, but there’s no denying it - she wants something from you and she’s willing to do whatever she has to in order to get it.’

“But she was right,” Marley admitted, rubbing the back of her neck as her cheeks flushed. “I was spending all this time fighting for causes that had nothing to do with Fae. I was going to parties and getting drunk and having crushes on people who can’t reciprocate and I… I…” She sighed, leaning forward on her elbows and rubbing her temples. “I wanted to be someone other than me. But that’s not possible. I’m still Marley Rose. I’m still a Fae, and I’m still the Flowerchild of Prophecy, and no matter of glamour potions or learning about human culture or frivolity can change that.”

Lila reached out to take one of Marley’s hands and squeezed it. ‘You’re putting yourself under a lot of pressure,’ she said. ‘You’ve dealt with a lot since coming here and… maybe I’m reaching a bit, but it sounds like you’re holding on to a lot of guilt.’

‘You can say that again,’ Olivia muttered.

“Would you shut up?” Marley snapped.

Lila gave Olivia another warning look. ‘As I was saying, it seems like perhaps you’re taking on the responsibility of a lot more than you’re obligated to. And I don’t quite understand why. The sorts of politics and issues that Raphaelle Le Fay concerns herself with - they are not the kind that I’ve come to know you to support,’ she said, squeezing again. ‘I can understand feeling overwhelmed with the pressure to please multiple parties and find some sort of acceptance among your peers, but… is this what you really want?’

Marley gave a humorless laugh. “What I want hasn’t mattered for some time now,” she said.

‘You may not think so, but it does.’

The truth though was that it was easier to focus on expectations and rules and parameters rather than what she actually wanted. Because… what did she actually want?

“Either way, it doesn’t matter because I already made my choice. I’m working on my relationship with the Fae and I think I’m close to the breakthrough I need to prove myself worthy of this stupid title.”

‘Which, just to clarify, you think is stupid?’ Olivia asked, raising an eyebrow. Marley gave her a glare in return, though the older Fae just rolled her eyes. ‘Whatever. The reason we’re here is because we want to help.’

‘We hope you’ll let us help,’ Lila added. ‘If this is really the road you’re going to choose to go down, then we can’t stand by and let you drown here on your own.’

“I’m not drowning.”

‘You’ve got a massive tree taking over your room and you’ve all but become a recluse,’ Olivia reminded her. ‘I don’t know what your plan is but I already don’t like it…. but I also won’t let you go this alone. So please. Let us help you.’

Marley looked between both ladies, unsure what definition to give the overwhelming feeling that rose within her chest. It was one thing to have Mason offering his help, or even Santana prying in her own intrusive ways, but to have Fae in her life who could and wanted to help? It felt simultaneously like a dangerous idea and like breaking the surface of the water to finally breathe again.

“I don’t… I don’t know how you can help yet,” she admitted, running her hand through her hair again. “But I’m open to suggestion.”

Lila smiled, relief infusing her facial features as they softened and her frame relaxed. ‘We should wait to see what happens at the Promenade,’ she nodded. ‘See if Raphaelle has anything to say about the current political climate and if the Fae have any cooking up moving forward.. But in the meantime… Marley, I really think you should take some time out to figure out what exactly it is that you want. Independent of the expectations of you as the Flowerchild of Prophecy, and separate from what anyone else’s opinions might be of who and what and how you should be.’ She squeezed Marley’s hand again. ‘You can’t base your life off of what others unrealistically expect from you, and you certainly can’t make a decision this great without taking stock of what implications it will have for you in the long run.’

It felt like an exercise in defeat but Marley finally nodded in agreement. “Fine… I’ll think on it.” It felt like Lila was asking the world of her - just like every other person crossing her path - but with finals almost done and the edge of the pressure taken off, she could stand to entertain the impossible, however far out of reach it might seem.

#paras #walking on a wire through the fear #//song lyrics as a title? i think YES

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marleyjanerosearchived-blog · 8 years ago

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EVERYTHING WILL BE ALRIGHT » a marley rose & madison mccarthy playlist.

a playlist for the blossoming friendship between marls & madi whaddup.

○ 22 - taylor swift ○ us against the world - play ○ hey girl - lady gaga ft. florence welch ○ confident - demi lovato ○ bo$$ - fifth harmony ○ girl almighty - one direction ○ right here - miley cyrus ○ new romantics - taylor swift

#marleyplaylist #ch: madison #madistidious

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solarmason-blog · 8 years ago

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with this new sun || quinnson

WHO: Mason McCarthy & Quinn Fabray ( @wingedfabray ) ; ft Sabia and Jenna, and a friend. WHAT: Mason and Quinn train, and make up for lost time. WHERE: Undique, and elsewhere. WHEN: Wednesday, Feb 8th, evening, and elsewhen. WARNINGS: Violence.

Mason hummed as he stretched in the middle of their usual ring. His phone was set aside, and he was in a considerably better mood than he'd been the same time the previous week; there wasn't anything wrong with Piper DiSala, exactly, it was just that...well, he was just glad that he and Quinn were back to business as usual. Sabia was lying against the wall, her head resting on her paws - observing him, for the critiques she'd give him later. Much later, if his plan worked - Sabia was also guarding the extra backpack he'd brought with him, filled with the clothes Madison had nicked for her and the clothes he'd brought for himself. Briefly, Mason had considered looping in Hunter or Sebastian or both of them into his plan, but...he could worry about them later. Wednesdays were for Quinn.

Quinn pushed her way into their arena at Undique, unreasonably worried that Mason wouldn’t be there, or he would have someone else at his side. Skyrocketing from ‘he’s done with this’ back to ‘we’re fine’ left her completely unsure of how to feel. Instead, she’d buried in thoughts of the election, another subject that had her stomach turning. Regardless of the circumstances, Quinn needed Wednesday. She couldn’t quite help the sigh of relief that escaped as she spotted Mason already there, with only Sabia as company. “Hello, Mason.” She greeted, tone more professional than she’d meant; the slight awkwardness of their first get-together since everything had gone awry was inescapable. Quinn cast a glance at Sabia, pulling her grimoire out of her bag and turning quickly to the sketched outline of a husky. A quiet << Come >> had her magic circle spinning over the books, etched lines detaching from the page and spinning into an exuberant ball of fluff, who immediately darted towards Sabia. Quinn shook her head, finally joining Mason in the center of the arena. “Hey.” She tried at casual again with more success, offering a small smile.

Mason couldn't help but smile brightly as Quinn entered - it was the first time he'd seen her from so close, the first time she's come specifically to see him, in what felt like ten gazillion years. It was too long. "Hi," Mason replied as she approached, smile hardly dimming at all. "Congrats again, Q." Mason paused, his smile turning impish. "But you know that holding chairs or seats won't save your butt in Field Studies, right?" Mason wrinkled his nose playfully, looking over as Jenna and Sabia began to chase each other around, barking and woofing - leaving the bags unguarded, but hopefully Quinn's attention would be on him, not on their backpacks. He shook his head fondly before he looked back at Quinn, his smile turning a little softer. "I missed you."

Quinn feels any lingering tension ease away as Mason smiles at her, tone welcoming and bright. It’s so Mason, so unassuming and easy and warm. Right, this is why it hurt to feel like she’d lost that. Thank Aether that feeling was gone. “Thank you.” She says, because that’s what she’s supposed to say, when her family has been handed everything that they’d ever wanted. And she’s thankful that he quickly moves on. The teasing tone tells her everything that she needs to know about their upcoming practice; maybe she could redeem herself this time. She takes a step closer, is this where you hug? But she’s not quite sure, and she gives him an “I miss you, too” that sounds a little bit like she thought she’d never see him again, and “If we can not be sentimental today, I think I’d have an easier time beating you.”

Mason raises his eyebrows, his laugh loud and open. She's back, she's back, she's back. Mason had been more than half convinced he was never going to see Sebastian again, and to get him back only to almost-lose Quinn immediately after had been more than his overly affectionate heart had been able to handle. He clucks at her and shakes his head. "Big talk from such a tiny girl," Mason teased. To prove his point he wraps an arm around her shoulders, tugging her gently closer for a hug. She really is very short against him. "Sentimentality is my specialty, Q, and I really did--I missed you." He lets himself stay there with her for a beat, two, three of his heart, and then he takes a small respectful step back and looks to the ring around them. "Try not to kick my butt too hard, kay? This is only the first thing on our agenda." Mason paused and grinned impishly. "And no, I'm not telling you what comes next."

Quinn feels wholly engulfed as Mason wraps his arms around her, but it’s in the best way. She returned the hug briefly, stepping back as he did. Jenna zipped by, closer than she had before, and something that sounded like laughter rang in Quinn’s head. “What’s next on t–“ She cut herself off, eyes narrowing at Mason’s grin. “You’re impossible.” She commented instead. “I guess I’ll just have to make it quick.”

Mason laughed and walked to his end of the arena, then did a playful bow. "By all means, make it as quick as you can." He tucked his hands in his pockets, brushing against the sigilstones he had tucked there. One of these days, he'd actually use his shillelagh as a weapon in one of these fights, but the idea of doing actual serious damage to one of his friends in a duel was not something he was ready for. (Maybe if he ever got Puck to fight him...) "Ladies first~"

Quinn rolled a die. The die showed: 2

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 4

Quinn takes a quick step back, calling << Slash >> as she moved. The word came out broken, quieter than she’d meant it. Flames danced through the air in jagged lines towards Mason, a few breaking off to dart in random directions. Aether was Jenna still laughing at her, or was that new?

Mason tossed a sigil in the air in front of him - it hit one of the wiggly worms of fire she'd sent toward him and from it exploded a wall of force, extinguishing the flames and colliding with Quinn. "C'mon, Q, focus," Mason said, voice slipping into the professional, teacherly-tone. "Try again."

Quinn rolled a die. The die showed: 1

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 1

Quinn arched an eyebrow. Focus? On what? Her father, her mother? Frannie? Hunter and Sebastian? What about Lineage in August? But Mason sounded like he was trying to legitimately teach her, and this what supposed to be about having a good evening and learning to actually fight for herself. She tried to picture a line of fire behind Mason, tried to visualize the ground at his feet. << Reach >> She said in clear Enochian, and a small tendril of fire danced to life behind him, for a moment she thought maybe she’d actually managed it despite her poor focus, but before she could even visualize the next part of the spell, the flame burst in every direction, it fizzled loudly, disappearing into nothing, and left Quinn with nothing but a headache. She held a hand to her head, letting out a small groan of frustration. “Aether, focus.”

Mason tilted his head as she spoke - what was that she was saying? it must be Enochian - Mason half-turned just in time to see the trickle of fire behind him. He barely had time to yelp out a quick "<<Protect!>>" before the fire spiraled out of control. The sigil that had carved itself on the ground in front of him - and absorbed the fire's blast - dulled and Mason looked back at Quinn. He knew, logically, that he should take the moment to attack, to train her about staying on her guard, but... "Q?" Mason's voice was gentle. "Quinn, c'mon, it's okay. You've had a long day." He took a step or two closer, one hand still holding a sigil stone, just in case it was an elaborate ruse to teach him a thing or two about letting his guard down. "You okay?"

Quinn nodded, thankful for the slight reprieve that Mason seemed to be giving her; although, he seemed awfully cautious. Her hand fell back to her side, and she let the moment pass, a grin replacing her frown. She gestured at the stone in his hand, “Don’t you trust me?”

Mason squinted slightly, a tentative smile on his face. "Q, you don't stay alive as a Slayer by trusting a moment's pause," Mason chuckled and twisted the stone over his fingers. "You sure you wanna do this tonight? We don't have to, y'know."

Quinn straightened, pulling a quick breath in through her nose and releasing it slowly. If she had to use everything to channel her spells, then she would. But she was going to get through the duel, either way. “No, I want to do this. I need to learn how to work past distractions, and I’m not going to do that calling off a simple duel because I’m having trouble focusing.” She squared her stance once more. “Keep going?”

Mason smiled in spite of himself. "Keep going." That was the Quinn he knew. "For the record, this is the last time you get a free shot, so don't heck it up." He gestured for her to continue. "So, one more time, bring it on."

Quinn rolled a die. The die showed: 3

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 7

Quinn called << Light >> as though she was lighting her candles, quick and easy. Flames tangled through her fingertips, twisting and winding across her hands. In a quick move, she pushed them forward, a steady stream of fire between herself and Mason. It wasn’t strong, however, and the flame danced cool and weak.

Mason smiled and nodded as the fire lit up Quinn's fingers - that was more like it. As she pushed it forward, Mason raised his hand and spoke, " <<Stone, rise,>>" and watched as a square of stone emerged from the ground. " << Push. >> " He shoved forward and the block of earth followed the motion, flying toward Quinn.

Quinn watched as the flames died uselessly against the stone, effectively ending yet another weak attempt at an offense. Before she had time to absorb what had happened, the stone was barreling towards her. Feet scrambled back on the dirt floor, slipping useless beneath her. For a brief moment the world seemed to tilt. She couldn’t quite move fast enough, and found herself putting everything into a desperate, useless attempt to dive sideways. The block hit her shoulder first, hard and rough, and the breath pushed out of her lungs in a sharp huff. Balance completely forgotten, she stumbled back into the dirt, shoulders knocking against the ground roughly. “Okay.” She managed, when her lungs finally allowed her to breathe. “I think…you can have this one, Mase.” She pushed herself up, repressing a groan at the tight, probably bruised shoulders. “I can…cut my losses.”

Mason winced in sympathy, cringing as his block collided with the back wall and dissipated into a few small pebbles. He moved to his book and summoned his shillelagh, then moved back to Quinn and knelt next to her. "C'mere," he said gently, holding it out for her to hold as well. "It'll help, promise." The malachite stone affixed to the top glowed dimly, pulsing twice as Quinn rested her hands on it. "We all have off days, Q. If this is the biggest loss you have to cut, I think you're in okay shape." Mason smiled encouragingly, then added, a little sheepishly. "I'm sorry, though. For hurting you."

Quinn held tight to the…staff? Weapon? She wasn’t entirely sure how it worked, but somehow it did. Her off day really shouldn’t have come on what was assumedly her best day, but she wasn’t going to point that part out. She pushed herself into a standing position, and rolled her shoulders experimentally. They hurt, but there was something about hurting because she’d actually done something. Even if that something wasn’t very impressive. Jenna trotted up to nudge gently at her legs, and Quinn scratched behind her ears idly, reassuringly. She offered Mason a smile. “It was a duel, Mase. There’s no need to apologize.”

Mason wrinkled his nose. "Still." He followed her, scratching at his neck. "Okay. Do you wanna rest before part two? If you even want to do part two. Which I still won't tell you, because I think you do want it, but if you'd rather just conk out that's okay too!" Mason clamped his mouth tightly, heat rising to his face. Would he ever manage to not be entirely embarrassing? "Just--if you're not up to it, that's okay."

Quinn arched an eyebrow as Mason rambled. The world wasn’t spinning around her as it had been before, and she felt a little steadier on her feet. “I’m fine, Mason.” She offered, pursing her lips and looking away. The arena didn’t look nearly as bad as it had after their first duel, it really hadn’t been much of a fight. She looked back at him curiously, “There’s no way you’re getting out of telling me what you have up your sleeve.”

Mason grinned a little wider, shaking his head. "Okay, okay." He moved over to their bags - Sabia remained near Jenna and Quinn, nosing against Quinn's other side as Mason pulled his own change of clothes from the backpack and returned to Quinn with the clothes under his arm. He held the backpack out to her. "I--this isn't as weird as it seems, I promise, I just don't think you'd want to stay in duel clothes the whole time. Don't be mad at Madison for helping, I promise it's not weird," Mason repeated with a winning grin. "So...I'm gonna go find the little witch's room and change, if you're willing to go out on a limb on this one with me?"

Quinn ’s brow furrowed as she accepted the bag. Her eyes slowly raised up to meet Mason’s, both eyebrows lifted and a small, curious smile on her face. “Alright.” She said slowly, squeezing the bag gently. Madison going through her clothes was…a little weird, but not the weirdest. What is happening? Jenna wagged her tail, tongue lolling out of the side of her mouth. Quinn offered a shrug, and took one last glance at Mason before heading off to find a locker room. The clothes in the bag were comfortable, but nice, something nicer than what she’d normally wear around campus, but not exactly her Sunday best. She pulled the cardigan around her shoulders, hands running through her hair. It was mussed, but not irreparably so, and a little work almost made it look purposeful. By the time she made it back to the arena, she looked purposefully ruffled, yet still carrying her usual grace.

Mason beat her out, in spite of taking time to try and smooth his hair out of it's trending toward mad curls. Do I have to go back in the book? Sabia whined next to him - Mason just shrugged, scratching behind her ears. "Not yet," he answered, looking over his shoulder as he heard Quinn approach. He made a mental note to applaud Madison and her fashion sense. "You look great. Especially for having a bona fide weirdo pick your outfit," Mason added with a grin. He slug the backpack over his shoulder and moved toward the door, glancing at his phone for the time - the watch on his wrist was still a watch, thankfully, but he wasn't about to check it for the time. "C'mon."

Quinn gave a short laugh; their sibling dynamic was something that she could never quite grasp. She matched strides with Mason easily, close enough that her arm brushed his gently every few steps, but not close enough to bump into him. The air was just cool enough to bite at her cheeks, and she could hear Jenna pause to shake behind them before following once more. Quinn alternated between looking ahead, and looking at Mason. “So,” She started casually. “Where are we going that we couldn’t be in workout clothes?”

Mason resisted the urge to wrap his arm around her - against the cold, for warmth, for the sake of her being there, but he knew better than to push. Besides, these tiny little moments of contact that were all Quinn? They were special in their own way. "You'll recognize it," Mason promised, leading them to the nearest portal. He entered the code and waited for it to open before them, then took her hand and stepped through. Before getting too far away from the portal on the other side, Mason removed his grimoire and returned Sabia to it. It was still dark where they let out, but if Mason looked at the sky, he could see light just beginning to edge into the sky. It was warmer here than it was in New York at ten at night, but not by much. "Hang on a sec," Mason said, moving to the edge of the alley they'd appeared in. He put his pointer finger and pinky finger in his mouth, and let out a long, sharp whistle. It bounced off the old, low rambling stone buildings around them; because they were in a town, but the town was, seemingly, still asleep.

Quinn stood for a moment on the NYADA side of the portal, watching Mason disappear through it. The night seemed still without him, and Quinn wasn’t sure exactly what he was up to. But he was safe, and he was on a very short list of people she trusted implicitly. She stepped through the portal, shivering slightly at the familiar feeling before absorbing the alleyway that they’d walked into. Jenna padded through behind her, sniffing curiously at the air. It was cold, but not as cold, and the alley was still and quiet. Quinn walked up to Mason’s side silently, almost afraid to break the silence, only to jump as he shattered it with a whistle. “Aether, Mason. What are you doing?”

Mason smiled faintly. "Making sure our escort--" 'Buon giorno,' said a voice from across the street, no louder than they'd been speaking to each other, but perfectly understandable in the silence. "Ciao, Paolo," Mason returned, smile widening as the figure--a boy, maybe a couple of years older than Mason, with a mop of dark curly hair and dark eyes set in an angular face--approached. Mason extended his hand and Paolo took it, clasping arms and embracing quickly. 'You are as loud and as annoying as ever, si?' "Si," Mason answered with a fluid shrug. "Mi dispiace, ma..." Mason paused and grinned. "Not really." He looked back at Quinn and explained, "This is Paolo, his mother and my mother are friends--have been since they were our age. Paolo's part of a liaison team with the Italian slayers, and he's graciously agreed to make sure we're not bothered," Mason said, finishing with a grin back at Paolo. Paolo leaned to Quinn and mock whispered, 'This one thinks he is so charming--really, he bribed me.' Paolo winked and Mason shoved at him playfully, earning a string of Italian too fast for Mason to follow except by tone. "Is everything set up?" Mason asked with a good natured roll of his eyes. 'Si,' Paolo answered, bowing to Quinn briefly before turning to lead them out of the alley. 'Have you ever visited Italy before, signorina?'

Quinn watched curiously, back straight and a polite but sincere smile on her face. They looked familiar with each other; of course they would be. Mason seemed confident, and Quinn always marveled at the way that he handled people. How had anyone pegged Madison as the leader? “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Paolo.” She greeted warmly, years of experience and genuine interest playing into every word. Quinn blushed at the offered bow, a blush which didn’t fade as he walked away. They were…what? Her hands gripped at Mason’s arm tightly, her heart picked up in a too-fast pitter patter, stumbling over itself. “Italy? Mason, we’re in Italy?”

Mason grinned down at her. "We sure are," Mason confirmed, pleased at the tone and the look on her face. And her arm through his - that wasn't so bad, either. "I just thought--win lose or draw, the elections make everything so..." Mason gestured with his free hand as they followed Paolo down the street. "So tunnel-vision, y'know? I thought it'd do us both some good to get well and truly away for at least a little while." As they rounded the corner, the real attraction came into view. 'Il Battistero di San Giovanni,' Paolo said, gesturing to the building grandly. "It won't be open for...quanti ora hai?' Paolo held up four fingers. And then one finger, indicating how pleased he was to be awake at that hour. Mason scoffed and looked back at Quinn. "It won't be open for a few more hours," Mason explained as they approached, "and you said the only bad thing about this place was the tourists," Mason added with an easy shrug. "So there aren't any." Mason looked at Paolo, who simply nodded - they would be acting as security. 'Si, si. Go on,' Paolo nudged open the door wide enough for Quinn and Mason to step through. Inside was dimly lit - someone, probably Paolo, had the foresight to light candles that led their way. "Plus," Mason said, just before they arrived at the main anteroom, his voice softening as he looked down at her, "I didn't get you anything for your birthday. It's no party in the clouds, but..."

Quinn could hardly breathe, Il Battistero di San Giovanni. She held tighter to Mason, only managing to offer Paolo a dazed “Grazie” before they walked into the baptistery. She paused for a moment when the doors clicked shut behind them. Her eyes closed, it felt so familiar, so home. It smelled like incense, the soft, golden flicker of the candles danced pale through her closed eyes. Nothing ever quite felt so much like peace as ancient, holy buildings. “Mason, this is…” She finally opened her eyes, gaze drifting around the tall dome before finding Mason. Words seemed to stick in her throat, thick and never enough to describe what this meant to her. She bit her bottom lip, warring with herself. “This is incredible, you’ve…Thank you.” If she stood looking at him any longer, she was going to either cry, or do something else entirely, so she drifted into the center of the dome. The golden light barely flickered off of the deep, dark dome above them. When they walked, their footsteps seemed to travel in whispering echoes, bouncing off the walls and up. She could remember the first time that she’d stood in that spot. There were too many voices, too many footsteps, and a board staff member who came out every thirty minutes and sang the same notes over and again. Even then, she’d been in awe. “Want to hear something amazing, Mase?” She asked in a quiet whisper, a whisper that still seemed to wind it’s way up and back to her again.

Mason just smiled broadly, taking more from her reaction than from the place itself - although the place was incredibly beautiful; more beautiful than he'd been expecting. He'd looked up pictures when she first told him about it, and they didn't do it justice by half. He couldn't help but think that her family was the right one to be blessed by the angels - she looked like one, standing in the middle of a place like this, so at peace. He felt a little like an intruder, but with Quinn at his side, that feeling dissipated: she belonged here. "Sure, Q," Mason murmured, not daring to speak at full volume.

Quinn grinned, excitement tightening in her stomach. She didn’t sing often, not for others, her place in the choir during Midnight Mass notwithstanding. But the baptistery was built for its acoustics, and Quinn was convinced somewhere deep down that their was a choir of angels the blessed the hallowed walls. There were not tourists, and if they stood just still enough, it fell silent and peaceful. She cupped her hands around her mouth, turning her gaze to the top. Once all noise faded, she sang three simple notes, top to bottom, clear and steady. They lingered long after she stopped, combining together into one that seemed to come from all around them. It was a long moment before it finally faded slowly away; Quinn was afraid to breathe for fear of breaking the silence. God if she’d ever been so happy. She turned to Mason, beaming.

Mason raised his eyebrows slowly, smile fading first into surprise and then awe. He cast his gaze upwards too, like he could see the music she made, like he could watch it bounce around the room--he couldn't, of course, but his brain was searching for a way to explain what he'd just heard, because it wasn't like anything else he'd ever really expected to witness. When he looked back at her, she was grinning - the widest, realest smile he'd ever seen her wear. "You're right," Mason agreed softly, voice barely more than a whisper, "that was amazing." Mason wrapped an arm around her shoulders to giver her a halfway hug; with his free hand, he cupped his mouth and mimicked the noise she'd made - three simple notes, his voice considerably lower than hers, but that in no way limited the sound of it reverberating around them. His eyebrows raised further and his grin was slowly widening - no wonder this was her favorite place.

Quinn leaned into Mason, one arm circling around his waist, squeezing tightly as he mimicked her notes. They blended just as seamlessly, bouncing around them in a perfect, one-voice harmony. It was deeper in tone, and it seemed to linger in the air for just a moment longer. “Mason…thank you.” She started quietly, looking up at him. “I can never say it enough.” She hesitated for a moment, then stepped away with another grin. “Care to see the upper deck?” She asked, then said << Light >> in perfect Enochian. Fire played across her fingers once more, and it was bright, stronger on holy ground.

Mason just shook his head - it wasn't like he'd built the place; she could have just as easily portaled herself there. But he didn't want to argue about it; as she stepped away, he almost worried he'd gone too far (even with her hand around his waist), but that fear melted into excitement, his grin matching hers. "You're the expert. Lead on," Mason said, glancing around - the fire on her fingers was far brighter than the few candles around them, and it made their shadows dance on the walls.

Quinn pivoted leading them towards a stairwell tucked into the wall. The light from the candles at the pulpit couldn’t reach the darkened stairs, and the light from Quinn’s flame served as their only guidance. She stayed even with Mason, ensuring that the both could see. The stairs followed the curved edge of the wall, and the echoes from the main chamber seemed to fade away. The stairwell opened up a little over halfway up the tower, bringing them closer to the deep dome above them. The sound of their footsteps seemed louder, closer. The candles flickered below them, only just bright enough to paint the marble rail orange and yellow.

Mason followed closely, eyes moving from Quinn to the flame to the details that it brought out around them. The view from above was... "Woah," Mason breathed softly, eyes widening slightly. "This is..." Mason just shook his head again, trailing off to look around again. Soon this place would be filled with people, talking and laughing--but now it was a special magic just for them.

Quinn spun around to lean back on the railing, and for a moment she just looked up into the dome. “I’ve never been here while it’s empty, it’s…” She paused, listening to the tiny echoes fade. “It’s peaceful, without all of the noise.” Her gaze fell to Mason, and she let the flames playing against her hands die down and disappear completely. It left the balcony in dark shadow, with only the distant light of the candles, and finally the faint outside light coming in through the tall stained-glass windows. “Nothing else exists in here.”

Mason took the opposite position, resting his forearms on the railing as Quinn tilted her head back. He kept his eyes on her, especially in the dark - he had the distinct impression that of all the Quinns he'd ever gotten to see, this was one of the realest, the purest versions of herself. In a place like this, it was hard to be anything other than honest; for the first time, Mason thought he was getting a deeper glimpse into what it might feel like to be properly religious. He nodded his agreement, closing his eyes to appreciate that for a moment - nobody except himself, his best friend and the Big Spirit Upstairs. He glanced upward, trailing his eyes over the beautiful architecture before he looked back at her. A faint smile played on his features. "How many other people do you think have stood right here?" Mason wondered softly, shifting a little closer to her. In the dim light, she looked soft--softer than he'd ever seen her be, with a smile still lingering on her face. Her broad grins made this all worth it. He smiled a little wider and nudged her gently, his arm brushing against hers. "Happy birthday, Q."

Quinn ran a hand over the railing gently, “This was built…early twelfth century. It’s not the oldest baptistery even in this area, but it still has so much history. In short, too many people to name.” Quinn loved history, particularly history that related to Christianity and magic. The old buildings in Italy were among her favorite; buildings that had risen on the stones of other buildings, the history the was scattered across the country was too much to grasp. She looked to Mason, closer than he had been before. Close enough to nudge her, and he felt warm in contrast with the cool stone. They were now a part of that building’s history, together, and a feeling that she couldn’t quite describe filled her chest. “Thank you, Mason.” But that didn’t quite cover it.

Mason smiled softly, ducking his head lightly, flustered by the tone of her voice; she always managed to say so much in so little, while Mason always felt like no matter how much he said it was never enough. “You’re welcome, Q.” They stayed there for a good amount of time–long enough for the sun to begin shining through the gorgeous stained glass, until Mason heard a shrill whistle from far away, outside, a light reminder that there were, in fact, other things existing out there, and that Paolo was telling him their time here was over. Mason sighed softly and looked back at her, a faint smile on his face. “Wanna get some early-morning gelato before we head home? It’ll be like dessert for us.”

Quinn returned the soft smile, taking one last look around the baptistery. Sometimes, life left her with moments that she knew were going to be memories someday. She could feel that one etching itself into her mind forever. << Light >> She said easily in Enochian, and the flames lit up the deck once more. She linked an arm through Mason’s, leaning against him gently, happy. “Sugar sounds excellent right now.”

Mason smiled a little wider and kissed the top of her head, watching the fire glow brightly around them one last time. Aether, this place was the most beautiful indoors place he’d ever seen in his life, and almost wished he’d brought a camera, or that his phone was turned on, but…a photo wouldn’t capture it. It wouldn’t capture the feeling, the warmth and completeness and groundedness and understanding he felt. So he just closed his eyes and let out a soft breath, then led them downstairs and back outside. He spoke with Paolo for a few moments–“He wanted your number,” Mason explained when he got back–and then led them toward the villa nearby, where stores were just beginning to wake up for the day. “You said somethin’ about sugar, right?” Mason asked, glancing around. He had vague memories of this place from visits with his family, and his Italian was passable, but he didn’t immediately actually see a gelato shop.

Quinn glanced back at Paola as they moved away, arching an eyebrow before turning her attention back to the businesses in front of them. It was early there, and not entirely surprising that gelato shop wouldn’t be immediately accessible. The cool morning air felt nice, if not different that the comforting warmth of the baptistery. But Quinn knew that had been comforting for an entirely different reason. She felt recharged, stronger somehow, even if there was still an ache to her shoulders, and a nagging tiredness from their earlier duel. “If we can’t find gelato, it’s okay, Mase. This has been incredible as is.” She paused, then glanced up at him, lips quirking into a playful smile. “I didn’t know you spoke Italian…”

Mason raised his eyebrows, then smiled a little sheepishly. “Si. Un poco. A little French, a little Spanish–just enough to understand my mother’s meetings and not look like an idiot with shopkeepers. The McCarthy clan thinks at least a basic education in most languages is important, and most romance languages are similar enough to each other that they’re not so hard to learn.” Mason scratched the back of his neck, the heat on his face nothing to do with the sun’s rays peeking over the buildings. “Breakfast pastry is a thing, right? Maybe we should’ve gone to France instead, I could’ve gotten us croissants,” Mason added with a chuckle, spotting a coffeeshop a little ways down the via in front of him. “I’m glad you liked it, though.” He added, glancing back at her with a little smile.

Quinn ’s smile widens as Mason continues, eyes tracing the flush on his cheeks before looking ahead. She felt light, like nothing existed beyond Italy and Mason McCarthy. It was something that was unique to him, that feeling like nothing could go wrong as long as he was there. “It’s a smart theory.” She agreed easily. Her own studies had been focused solely on Enochian. She needed to be fluent, and she hadn’t actually wanted to focus on anything else. Unfortunately, Enochian would never help her in Italian coffee shops. They approached the little shop before too long, the smell of a strong roast wafting out to greet them. “I bet they have breakfast pastries.” Her voice wasn’t much more than a whisper, teasing.

Mason wrinkled his nose playfully at her, a soft little laugh escaping as they approached. He greeted the clerk and ordered, fishing out his wallet–thank the Aether he hadn’t left that back in New York–so he could pay, and then guide them to one of the little metal tables on the patio. “They had breakfast pastries,” Mason said, a teasing grin on his face as the platter arrived - fresh and steaming, probably the first of the day. “That’s why I took linguistics, though. I think–I think learning different languages for…you know, other things, would be cool too. I’m only really truly fluent in Celtic,” Mason adds, smiling easily as the waiter came by to pour their coffee. “That’s how a lot of our, ah, big stuff is done.”

Quinn nearly protested when Mason ordered and paid before she could get a word in edgewise. As it was, she took her seat at the table with a huff, casting a very brief glare his direction, a glare which somehow lacked its usual venom. If he was trying to make up for their mutual misunderstanding, he was doing a pretty damn good job of it. The pastries looked wonderful, steaming and fresh, and Quinn pulled her bottom lip between her teeth, cheeks flushing a light pink. He’d surprised her with a trip to Italy, Italy, taking her into one of her absolute favorite places on Earth. He’d walked with her arm and arm, kept her close, bought her breakfast. “Mason.” She looked up, voice teasing, but a note of hesitance peeked through. “Is this…all of this, it’s a birthday gift? Just a birthday gift?”

Mason tilted his head slightly as she spoke, pausing mid-sip. His brain sort of skidded to a stop and he blinked; something about the way she was looking at him, the slight bit of–was that shyness? Was Quinn able to be shy? “Uh,” Mason began, elegant and loquacious as ever. He set his cup of coffee down and ran his tongue over his lips. His heart ticked an unfamiliar rhythm - he got the distinct feeling that this was an important question, and he hadn’t figured out how or why it was, but he couldn’t just sit there with Quinn staring at him like that. “Yes?” Mason said, more than a little hesitant. “And, I mean, to make up for–it’s not like…it’s not like I’d bring Piper or…anybody, really, here, you know? So, like, no, it’s not just a birthday gift,” Mason said, slowly, figuring out as he went - same way he did everything. “It’s a friend…ship…gift?” Mason raised his eyebrows at himself, trying the words out. “That sounds ridiculous, I know, but…” Mason looked around, smile fading into something a little softer. “If I have to take you halfway around the world to have a meal in the daylight with you, that’s what I’ll do, Q,” he finished. He looked back at her before quickly dropping his gaze to the table. His finger brushed the edge of his coffee cup. “Is–was–is it too much? I’ve–I’ve been told I can go a little…” Mason chuckled faintly. “Overboard.”

Quinn smiled gently, quiet and reassuring. It didn’t have to be anything more than a birthday gift. Quinn didn’t expect anything of Mason, and with friendship still being a foreign word to her, anything more than that could prove disastrous. Even so, she couldn’t quite tell if she was hurt, or happy. While she didn’t want more from Mason, that didn’t mean that it wouldn’t have felt good if he did. But that was way too complicated to bring into anything, and Mason already looked flustered enough. She picked up her coffee, taking a small sip through a smile before setting it down. Ah, suspense. “It’s perfectly fine, Mase. It’s…extravagant, but I know it came from your heart. Friends can do things like this for each other without it meaning anything more than that we…want to do things like this for each other.” She looked down at her coffee, then back up. It was an odd throwback to their first outing together, tentatively trying to feel out what they were going to mean to each other. “I’ll happily travel across the world to have a meal with you in the daylight.”

Mason let out a breath, relief chasing away his nerves and bringing a broad grin as she finished speaking. That was–that was so nice to hear, especially after everything lately–but he couldn’t help but wonder if someday, they’d happily be able to have lunch in the cafeteria without the world spinning to a halt. “Someday we won’t have to do that,” Mason said, speaking the words aloud so he knew that they were true, like he was casting a sigil around them. “But hey. Even then, it might be kinda fun, right? Not having to doesn’t mean not wanting to! We’ll see everything together.” Mason grinned and clinked his cup of coffee against hers, watching her face. There had been emotions there, too tiny and far away and small for him to name or place, but…Mason wasn’t sure what answer she’d expected. What answer she’d wanted. And he didn’t know what that meant, either, but he filed that away to worry about later. His friendship with Quinn was just that–friendship, and nearly lost just a week or so before over some stupid misunderstanding and miscommunication. He could worry about what the slight tightening of her eyebrows, the slow and careful way she took a sip of her coffee–that could all be worried about back in New York, where things were real. For now, it was just the two of them. Mason took a bite of pastry and leaned back in his seat, folding his fingers over his stomach as he looked around. “Man, if this is extravagant, just wait ‘till next year.” Mason looked back at her and grinned impishly, a light little tease coupled with the promise of 'next year’–that come next January, he’d still be celebrating her birthday. “I’m really gonna have to come up with something great.”

Quinn ’s smile dropped slightly, the smallest movement, and only for a moment. For the first time since stepping through the portal, the outside world seemed to press in. Her father’s new position felt suffocating, like the chains between herself and The Commission had gotten tighter. Quinn hadn’t decided if more influence meant more freedom, or less, but she knew which one her father would tell her. The moment passed as quickly as it came, because if she had to spend her years traveling the world with Mason, maybe that wouldn’t be so bad. And maybe she shouldn’t write off ‘someday,’ when she only knew of today. “Some day.” She said on a breath, as though putting it out there with Mason’s could will it into truth. Her eyes found his again, momentary melancholy chased away to be replaced with a small laugh. She shook her head, “You don’t have to out-do yourself every year, you know. I’ll tell you the same thing that I told Blaine: I’m happy with just a dinner. Birthdays are…you don’t have to make it this big of a deal.”

Mason shrugged slightly. “Nah, that’s where you’re wrong,” Mason said, leaning forward slightly. “Birthdays should be celebrated, because it means you’re still alive, Q.” Mason quirked an eyebrow at her. “And that’s no small thing in this world of ours, sometimes.” Maybe Quinn wasn’t a Slayer, but Mason had no doubt in his mind she fought monsters and won battles all her own, at some dear price. “And besides,” Mason added, taking another bite of pastry. “I do too have to out-do myself. My father’s number-one rule is 'be better’, and that applies…everywhere.” Mason stilled for a moment; however far away New York was, Oregon was even further, but even thinking about it sent some kind of chill up his spine. “But hey,” Mason said, pulling himself out of it, “maybe next year Blaine and I will throw you the best dang dinner you’ve ever had, if that’s what you want.”

Quinn shook her head once more, looking away with a smile. “Aether, Mason. You and Blaine together, I’m not sure that I can handle it. You know he had balloons delivered all day? It was…please, no spectacles.” She gave a short laugh, pulling her bottom lip between her teeth. The moment seemed to fall still, and she looked back at Mason. She started gently, “Mason, be better is…a great motto to have, there’s always room to improve ourselves. But…be better doesn’t mean that what you are is anything less, or bad in any way.”

Mason shifted slightly, not quite able to meet her gaze as he worried his lip through his teeth. He wanted to believe her. He wanted to believe that more than almost anything else, because if that was true it meant that he wasn’t a consistent failure, that he did some measure of good, that he’d done enough. But his mind drifted to Tina, to Santana and then back to Quinn, looking at him so carefully, like if she tried hard enough she’d be able to actually climb into his thoughts and figure out what was on his mind. “Thank you,” Mason said, voice a little softer than he meant it to be. “I…” Mason trailed off again, tugging at the bracelet fastened around his left wrist - the one that matched Sebastian’s, that Mason had gotten in Ireland. It wasn’t that simple. Instinct told him to disagree with her, to point out the myriad ways he desperately needed to be so much better, like, yesterday, but…he so wanted to let himself believe her. “That’s…thank you, Q,” Mason just repeated, not quite able to find the words to agree-to-disagree that wouldn’t make her upset, or make her think he was starting a pity party in the middle of her birthday. “I’ll try to keep the spectacle to a minimum. I promise.” His voice was still soft, but he was smiling a little now, and he nudged at her foot beneath the table. “But I make no promises about Blaine.”

Quinn watched Mason closely, taking in the expressions that ran across his face, the way he tugged at his bracelet. She could relate. Maybe they were both led to believe that they’d never quite be good enough. Mason moved on, and Quinn let the moment fade without protest. She luxuriated in the thought that she had years to convince Mason that he was better than he gave himself credit for. “Of course.” She nudged his foot back, returning his small smile. “I adore Blaine, and his spectacles. If you can’t manage to keep it low key, I won’t hold it against either of you. But…” She paused, “This does mean that your next birthday is going to be a big deal, you know that, right? If I have to have extravagant, so do you.” Even if it’s in the quietest way that she knows how.

Mason raised an eyebrow, a smile slowly sliding across his face. “Me? Extravagant? Psh,” Mason chuckled and shook his head. “I guess fair’s fair. I’ve never–we celebrate birthdays like I said but ours is always so close to Samhain we don’t–it’s not quite as big a deal, you know?” Mason chuckled and shook his head. The idea of Quinn taking an interest in his birthday comforted him somehow - it all felt very rushed at NYADA, like every moment was life or death; talking about a fixed point, months in the future, made him feel a little better about his present. “Honestly,” Mason began, “I don’t think either of us are going to get away with low-key anything as long as Hunter’s in our lives.” Mason quirked an eyebrow; he didn’t want to get into the politics, about whether or not it was still feasible for him to be in her life–he knew by now that these things weren’t nearly as set in stone as they might appear to be. “Not to mention Sebastian. I’m actually slightly terrified about what he’ll cook up for mine and Mads’ 21st.” Mason shook his head fondly; Sebastian and Madison would have it sorted by October. They’d have to, or the twins would have to have separate parties, and that was just a ridiculous notion.

Quinn offered a small smile at the mention of Hunter, the outside world pushing in just the smallest bit more. “No, no he has a tendency of turning things on their heads.” She picked at her pastry, pulling small bits off to eat. Her eyes found his after a moment, “He’ll give you something grand, at any rate. You might get that birthday that I told you about, the popularity contest. But you’ll have Hunter’s name behind it, and you’ll never have to worry about no one showing up.”

Mason shook his head. "I don't want a popularity contest," Mason said. "If I have you, my sister, Sebastian, Marley, Ryder and...Hunter, if he can calm down for a couple of hours, then I'll be happy." He smiled a little sadly and shrugged one shoulder; he knew that those half-a-dozen people had half-a-dozen reasons why they couldn't all be in the same room as each other. "And if I can't have that, then just...well, I know better than to complain." Or expect too much. He half-smiled and nudged her beneath the table again. "Don't look so sad, Q. This isn't about me anyway," he added, shaking his head at himself. "Besides. Come October, everything's gonna be different." Mason's smile widened. "How, I don't have a clue, and if it'll be better or worse I don't know, but...things never stay calm around here for long, right?"

Quinn bumped Mason’s back, offering a smile. It was easy to push everything aside with just one glance around them. They were still in Italy, and still so far away from everything that plagued them. It had possibly been the best step back that Mason could have given her. He never ceased to amaze her. Every time she felt like their friendship couldn’t last, like it would inevitably slip away from them, he would do something that only made her want to hold tighter. She wondered what love really felt like, in all its forms, and if she’d stumbled upon one of them in one of the most unlikely of vessels. “You’re right, Mase. October is far away, and so much could happen between now and then. For now…I’ve been happy to just be here.”

Mason smiled broadly, nodding. "Me too, Q. And I'm even happier that you're happy," he added, meaning it quite sincerely. It was too easy to begrudge her for the choices she made, the sides of issues she landed on, and while Mason didn't want to excuse those things, they were problems for later, and he knew that she derived no joy from them. Everyone Mason cared about deserved happiness, and he definitely cared about her, and he couldn't help but wonder how much other avenues of happiness she was able to have access to. "The only thing that's missing..." Mason paused, dragging it out for a moment before he grinned impishly again. "Is gelato. But I guess even you and me can't have everything." Mason's smile melted into something genuine again, and he wrinkled his nose playfully at her. "And what we do have is pretty great."

#para: all #para: with this new sun #para: quinn #quinn: all #para: 084 #// apologies for the v late posting #// and for the probably poor translation of things 4give me

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