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behindthesemasks · 6 months ago

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Chapter 17

The dynamic of the team begins to change...

It was late, the night outside was chilly. People strolling by were bundled up and a few looked in the windows. Those that did made little note of the brunette sitting alone and sipping on her latte and picking at her pastry. She didn’t look much different than the other customers in the small cafe’. Looks can be deceiving.

*DING* The phone laying on the table in front of her chimed softly once to indicate that a text had been received. A long, lithe finger swiped across the face to open the text message that had just arrived. ::Where r u? R u ok?::

Melania picked up her phone and stared at the screen. So, she had finally gotten a response. She had called Gabe after she’d slipped out one of the windows in the suite and onto the fire escape that took her down to the alleyway that ran alongside the hotel. From there she’d just started walking aimlessly through the city streets with no real plan where she was going. She couldn’t stay held up in those few rooms, and she knew that Cam and Case weren’t going to allow her out on the streets. Escape and evasion were her only options, but she knew that she could only do it so long on her own. Maybe her cousin and grandfather shouldn’t have allowed her to hang out with them quite as much as they had. Or maybe it was having to get in and out of dig sites over the years. Either way it had been too easy to get out of the room and to the street, and she had the knowledge of how to organize and run an operation as well. That knowledge was now going to come in handy.

Now she sat in a small 24 hour coffee shop in a more touristy area than the one they were staying in. She blended in, no one paid her any attention, which is what she had wanted. It had been well over an hour she’d walked before she stopped and took the chance to rest for a little bit. Quite frankly she had expected Case and Cam to come rolling up on her in the SUV long before she reached some place to stop. They didn’t, which surprised her, so now she was sitting there alone, drinking coffee, and trying to figure out the next steps that didn’t involve going back to that damn hotel.

*DING* ::Damn it Mel! Plz answer::

She picked up the phone and started typing with her thumbs. ::I’m ok. At Jasper’s Bistro. Coffee. Don’t tell Klaus or Nic. Def not GD. Need backup.:: -SEND-

*****

In the rear seat of the SUV that was still miles away from the hotel, Gabe saw the LED on his phone start to flash. He had a response. Hot damn!

He still didn’t know why Mel had chosen him, but he wouldn’t betray her trust. Now just to get to her and keep her safe without being found out by the two in the front of the SUV he was currently in. He’d figure something out once he got back to the hotel, but that was still a ways off and there were more immediate needs. Then ithe solution occurred to him.

He pulled up Alexander’s name in his phone. ::Missing package found at Jasper’s Bistro. Was left unaccompanied. Please proceed to location for pick-up and staging. Package may be slightly volatile.::

Gabe had just hit send and locked his phone again when Ambrose’s voice boomed from the front seat again yelling at Klaus. Everyone in the SUV winced. Since Ambrose had gotten off the phone with Case and Cam, it had either been Nic or Ambrose yelling at Klaus about his brother. All of the men had headaches from the volume of it, and were ready to beat Klaus themselves from pure frustration and the annoyance of it.

During that time, Gabe had seen Klaus try to call Mel several times, text her several more, and get absolutely no response. There was something akin to a mixture of rage and devastation that was etched over his features. Gabe did not envy him, but more so, he didn’t envy Erik when they got to the hotel. Everyone understood him being upset to hear the name, but what Cam and Case had described, there was no excuse for.

All Gabe could hope now was that Alexander, Dez, and Cade arrived to find Mel still safe and still in the coffee shop. If anything…ANYTHING…happened to her, someone would die, maybe more than one. For sure, there would be a lot of pain dealt out by Ambrose and Nic.

*****

What had Erik done? What had he been thinking? If Ambrose and Nic didn’t beat him senseless, Klaus was going to. When Mel had called before the raid, he hadn’t thought she literally meant he’d put a gun to her head. After talking to Case personally, he now knew the entire series of events. One wrong twitch and his own damn brother would have killed her. His heart lurched at the thought of it, and he was simultaneously enraged. There was no doubt he owed Case and Cam more than he could repay. She was the one precious thing in his life, and his brother was ready to destroy her out of nothing but blind rage. He wanted to find Oglesby as much as anyone else, but losing all sanity was good for no one..

The drive back to the hotel seemed to be taking forever. Ambrose and Nic taking turns verbally berating him was not helping any either. There was part of him that wanted to rage back at them, remind them he hadn’t done a damn thing; but he knew that wouldn’t help the situation. They were furious over what Erik had done; the fact that Mel was now missing just added fuel to that raging inferno. They couldn’t get ahold of Erik yet, and there was no way to know where Mel was, so he was the whipping boy for the moment. He blamed himself enough for it all, they might as well too. The only thing that was going to help now was to find her. No one had a clue how she’d gotten out of the hotel, let alone where she’d gone. If she’d gone of her own free will to begin with was a whole other question that had no answer.

The thought of Oglesby’s men getting ahold of her made his stomach lurch and his hands close to fists. If anyone hurt her, he’d make his brother wish he was dead. If it hadn’t been for what Erik had done, the others wouldn’t have felt the need to give her some space. She wouldn’t have been alone. Right now they might even have an idea where she was, but instead they were just lost.

*****

When Alexander’s phone chimed, he looked down and his brows knit together at seeing Gabe’s name. Opening the message, he breathed a sigh of relief and replied.

::Heading to get package. Should we notify owners?::

“Boys, we have a date with a beautiful brunette. Maintain radio silence and head to Jasper’s Bistro. Apparently she’s touchy.” Alexander tried not to sound too happy, this was still a dangerous operation, but he was relieved that she had been located. Mel wasn’t just his best friend, she was closer to him than family. When he’d heard she’d gone missing, he’d feared the worst. If she’d left on her own then he at least knew she’d be okay.

*DING* ::NO. Repeat DO NOT contact the package’s owners or the one who wants to take ownership. Package could detonate if they find out.::

“Gabe says not to let Ambrose, Nic, or Klaus know. Something’s going on boys that we don’t know about. But, let’s keep the girl safe.”

Cade swung the SUV onto a side street and followed the GPS until the café came into sight.

*****

Gabe kept looking over to Klaus as they drew near the hotel. The vehicle had gone silent a few blocks ago and now it was like being in the calm eye of a hurricane. You knew that it was going to explode into violence; you were just waiting for it. Again the LED on his phone started blinking, and he swiped to open it.

::Package spotted. Retrieval party unhappy. Former package handler will be dealt with for damage to package.::

Gabe relaxed some. At least the other three were there. He wanted to kill Erik himself, but he thought there was going to be a line for that joy. Part of him also wanted to take on Klaus, even if it meant he’d probably be limping for a couple of days. It hadn’t taken much to figure out who had been on the other end of that phone call and what she’d wanted listening to all the conversations going on around him since Ambrose had learned the news.

For the entire drive he had been trying to figure out why she had called him, trusted him. As they went over a bump going into the parking garage, throwing the three in the backseat towards the passenger side, he remembered the second time that Case had cornered as they were being chased. She had grabbed ahold of his leg to keep from hitting the passenger door with her head and looked up at him, blue eyes filled with fear framed with long dark lashes. He had taken her hand and told her it was going to be okay. He hadn’t let go till they’d arrived at the dig site. Even then he’d kept her safe till the others came in.

Now Klaus had hung up on her, Case was at the hotel and who knows what really happened with that, Nic and Ambrose would try to drag her back to the hotel, Erik held a goddamned gun to her head, and Alexander was being hunted. Those that would have normally been her go-to basically had been unavailable. Besides, Gabe had told her before that he’d been one of the snipers that had laid on rooftops watching over her in Long Beach and Gulfport. It had been his memory of that that made him realize who it was trying to get in touch with him. Thank the gods she’d remembered to take the burner phone with her when she left. Otherwise…well, he didn’t want to think of otherwise. She had trusted him, and as soon as he could slip the rest of the team, he’d be joining the other three that were taking care of her now.

*****

“You are going to get one of us killed some day.” A deep voice with a heavy British accent had Mel’s head tipping up. Cade on one side and Dez on the other, square in the middle was Alexander, all 3 looking down at Melania with slightly bemused expressions.

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fallensapphires · 4 months ago

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Genres: Action

I tend to think of action movies as exuberant morality plays in which good triumphs over evil.

#sylvester stallone #action #action movies #action film #Action fiction #action genre #action adventure #action hero #action books #action thriller #genres #Genre aesthetic #Genre moodboard #Action aesthetic #movie aesthetic #movie moodboard #moodboard #aesthetic #genre: action

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rpgsandbox · 1 year ago

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kickstarter

Cthulhu Dreamt is a sci-fi horror Tabletop RPG and Original Soundtrack where you and your team of Survivors will explore a near-future Earth that is suffering under the influence of Cthulhu and his cosmic denizens. Using your talents, special tech from the secret government agency Salien-Welf, and even the tools of the old ones, you must rescue one of the few scientists who can help...

WILL YOU ANSWER THE CALL?

Horror, Science Fiction, and Cthulhu lovers will delight at the semi-futuristic approach to the mythos, and modern take towards the gameplay-focused storytelling.

Immersion is taken to new depths when the original soundtrack is brought into the mix, with cinematic tracks, metal music, and ambient soundscapes made specifically to score the campaign.

Set on a near-future Earth, this project offers a fresh take on Cthulhu by imagining the horror occurring in our world with the technology of the year 2034. Players will journey across the world, attempting a rescue mission unlike any other, trying to circumvent the abominations in their way, as the reality of their world unravels before their eyes.

Based on an original D12 ruleset (designed by Adam Baffoni, creator of the Tether RPG) with an emphasis on travel and survival, characters (and players) will have to work together to survive against not only the horrifying otherworldly creatures, but also the harsh environments of the Earth... and beyond.

The game features a custom soundtrack, with songs composed specifically for scenes in the main campaign of the book. Facilitators will be able to scan QR codes present in the book to play original songs composed specifically to highlight cinematic moments from the campaign.

Cthulhu Dreamt RPG is a full-size 8.5" x 11" industry standard TTRPG Hardcover, with full color cover and interior.

The book is a Complete Game with everything you'd need in one publication. It features:

A fully playable campaign

Game rules for gameplay, players, AND Facilitator

10 playable specializations - Communicator, Engineer, Mercenary, Navigator, Survivalist, and more...

Dozens of fully original creatures (Flora & Fauna)

Easy to use stress tracking; both physical and mental

Additional Encounters (one-shot side-stories) with pre-built characters

QR codes placed strategically throughout the campaign to inform the facilitator which music from the OST is curated for that particular part of the game

Equipment (Armor, Weapons, Tools) lists

All content-expanding stretch goals

Existential Dread*

*Existential dread may vary from person to person

Original Soundtrack

The stream-safe sound world created by members of Cthulhu Dreamt (the band) will be featured and included digitally at all tiers, and is available to grab physically on CD, as well as a limited Kickstarter Exclusive vinyl pressing, which also includes a gate-fold jacket that can do double duty as a Facilitator Reference Screen!

Encounters are adventures that happen concurrently with the main campaign of Cthulhu Dreamt, but elsewhere in the world. They serve as one-shots for your group, complete with pre-written characters who have their own goals and motivations to immerse yourself in. We’ve created two especially for the Kickstarter.

Springfield Nocturne: This encounter is a perfect entry point into the world of Cthulhu Dreamt. It’s a two-shot set in a mid-western city undergoing a mysterious state of emergency, where players will need to get to the bottom of why Salien-Welf have begun evacuating citizens—if they can survive long enough to find out.

R’lyehian March: Wanna know what the team of EDGe troopers went through when Cthulhu finally awoke? Then this encounter is for you. Set on the island of R’lyeh before the events of the main campaign, this action-packed prequel story includes a party of pre-written EDGe Trooper characters working for Salien-Welf and dealing with the events that kick-off the main campaign.

Basics

Cthulhu Dreamt is built on a unique D12-based system originally designed by Adam Baffoni. Cthulhu Dreamt’s focus is primarily on travel and survival, where the players are more at odds with the world itself than with any wizards or dragons. Players roll against a target number (TN) to accomplish tasks; if they fail to meet that TN, they have the option to spend their attribute points like a resource (provided they can justify it narratively). For example, if a player wants to smash open a door and they don’t roll high enough, they can spend some Strong points to REALLY put their back into it. Players will need to be careful not to overspend these point pools, because once they’ve depleted them, they won’t be able to modify any of their rolls until they refresh the points by resting for the night.

Journeying

The Journey mechanic in Cthulhu Dreamt allows for players to cross great distances actively, rather than passively. Instead of happening in the blink of an eye, travel involves players selecting roles and narrating what they’ll do during their journey, assembling shelter, foraging for food, and overcoming obstacles cooperatively along the way. Travel also presents perfect road trip style roleplay opportunities for the players to grow closer and discuss the chaos of the world once it’s been upturned by Cthulhu’s awakening.

Combat

Combat in Cthulhu Dreamt is taken in rounds, with the players and NPCs alternating their actions back and forth—but that’s where similarities between Cthulhu Dreamt and other conventional TTRPGs end. Rather than enemies having health bars that players wail on over and over until it's depleted, Cthulhu Dreamt’s combat plays out more like a puzzle (that’s trying to kill you). Enemies still have a physical limit, but they can be defeated in a number of ways, and enemies are typically designed with unique facets that make each encounter feel fresh, keeping the players on their toes. Some creatures can be subdued through traditional means, but most will require the players to get creative and think outside of the box to defeat them.

Facilitating

Cthulhu Dreamt uses a system where the Facilitator can roll dice infrequently, instead focusing their attention on building creative outcomes for player characters, running a believable and engaging narrative world, and creating a more in-depth and welcoming experience for everyone at the table. Additionally, thanks to the incorporated soundtrack, Facilitators are equipped to build immersive scenes with music and ambient soundscapes during gameplay.

The Cthulhu Dreamt game book also includes several one-shot scenarios with pregenerated characters, fully written out and ready to play. These one-shot scenarios give Facilitators the ability to still run a Cthulhu Dreamt game night, even if a player cancels last minute.

There are many unique aspects to the version of Earth found within Cthulhu Dreamt: Unique characters which you’ll interact with, and horrific abominations which you’ll face off against. Cthulhu’s presence on Earth has had far-reaching effects, and they’re felt in every corner of the world… and every corner of your mind.

NPCs - From brilliant, planet-altering scientists, to people caught in the wake of these changes, NPC’s like Sheena, Simon, and Alya bring a knowledge of the world, and drive the players to achieve things that might feel impossible.

EDGe Troopers - The EDGe Troopers are the private military owned, operated, and outfitted by the world’s biggest biotech conglomerate, Salien-Welf. Trained in both military and ritualistic combat tactics, the troopers sometimes feel like the only thing holding the line between us and the all-consuming maw of the unknowable. But sometimes, holding that line puts them between the players and their goals, so the troopers are just as likely to be friends as they are foes.

TRACEs - When another plane of existence aligns with Earth, weird and dangerous things happen, and life as we know it can change. Not only will we see new plantlife, and other landscape features that weren’t there before, but we’ll soon find out that we are no longer the only life in this universe.

Specializations - The base game for Cthulhu Dreamt offers 10 different playable Specialties—effectively, backgrounds for the character you will create which translate to skills and abilities in the game. Examples include:

Kickstarter campaign ends: Fri, September 8 2023 3:30 PM BST

Website: [Action Fiction] [facebook] [twitter]

#RPG #kickstarter #Cthulhu Dreamt #Action Fiction #cthulhu #cthulhu mythos

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cljordan-imperium · 1 year ago

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Heaven & Arthur Visit The LaVeaus

@call-sign-shark CELEBRATES 1K

This is part 1 of Heaven & Arthur visiting Mel and her family because I'm cutting it off at 2680 words. LOL

Modern AU

@call-sign-shark's OC Heaven and her husband Arthur Shelby travel to Louisiana to visit some military men Arthur served under and with in the military. But it is Heaven that gets the biggest surprise of the visit.

“We leave in an hour to pick up Arthur and his wife, Heaven, from the airport,” Cade entered the kitchen to let Mel know. He dropped a kiss on the top of her head, then looked around at Mama Marie, Dontanion and Francios. “You two, behave.” He pointed at the brothers with a serious expression. Arthur was suffering from PTSD from the Gulf and the last thing anyone needed was the two LaVeau brothers being assholes and causing him to have some kind of attack.

“One wandering ancestor and we will forever be doubted.” Dontantion smirked and winked at his sister, as his shoulders raised. “One wandering ancestor who wandered in on my friend who was getting dressed for her wedding and gave her a death prophecy.” Mel rolled her eyes as Cade took a seat next to her and planted a kiss on her cheek this time. “You are lucky she did not stroke out.” Casting a look over to her mother, “can you please make these two behave, mama?”

“Boys, do not make me resurrect your fathers.” The smile she gave her sons made everyone’s blood run cold. As loving and warm as Marie was, no one ever forgot she was also the scariest person currently walking the planet. Only Rasputin may have ever topped her, and she had far outlived him.

“Yes, mama.” Francois replied before putting a strong elbow into his younger brother’s side. Even at over one hundred and fourty, Dontanion sometimes did not act a day over 16. “No ancestors scaring Cade’s friend, or his lovely wife.” The look in his eye was serious. Even if the death prophecy HAD come to pass, and they HAD hated Mel’s friend, and it HAD been hilarious at the time, causing a brave soldier still bearing the mental wounds of war further trauma would not be something they would partake in.

“Please, he was over in the Gulf with me and some of the guys on the team. He was under Alexander. Has some bad PTSD, seeing spirits that he would think were hallucinations from there might just send him…” Cade raised his brows and tilted his head, he didn’t need to finish, both brothers were nodding. “His wife, I don’t know much about but he says she is an angel and shy. Her name’s Heaven. She seems to have dont him a lot of good, he seems to be healing more. Figured she and Mel would be the ones hanging out, maybe with Mama Marie too.” He winked over at the woman who was like a second mother to him and who could make anyone feel welcome and loved.

“Of course, any of your friends are welcome here.” Love and warmth emanated from Marie. While she had immense powers, which she did not hesitate to use to protect those she loved; she was, at her heart, a mother. All of Mel’s friends had been adopted as surrogate children. None were turned away if they needed a mother figure, that was just Marie and the time she came from.

“Thank you, mama.” Love radiated off of Melania too as her gaze alternated around the other four in the room at the time, before her attention turned to Cade. “When do the others get here? I know Alexander got in last night and is still passed out in his room.”

“Tomorrow.” Cade answered, picking her hand up off of the table and kissing the back where there was a scar that lay across running from just below where her pinky met her hand to the crease of her wrist. The last evidence of the whole ordeal involving Ambrose and Adama. Even though it was long ago, it still made his heart clench and sometimes made him want to ask Marie to bring the assholes back so they could kill them again. “So you girls will have twenty-four hours before testosterone rules the house.” He winked at her, banishing thoughts of the past.

“Lovely. Just remember, Archibald can contain you all if you get out of line.” The whole room erupted in laughter at the threat of having her pet albino alligator snack on people. Not that he hadn’t been used as nature’s body disposal device before when required, but not on people they liked.

*****

Louis Armstrong Airport in Kenner was a bustle of activity as Mel sat on Cade’s lap down on the first floor by the baggage claim. It seemed the easiest place for Arthur and Heaven to find them. Although, from what Arthur had told Cade over the phone, Heaven shouldn’t be too hard to spot with snow white hair and skin just as fair. A statement that had apparently gotten Cade promptly cussed out for mentioning she should fit in with the aforementioned alligator in the swamp. Mel had a feeling that her fiance was lucky he’d been on the other side of the ocean from Arthur at the time.

They watched as the flight from Heathrow Airport flipped over from “On Time” to “Landed”. It still amazed Mel that they had direct flights, and for no more money, not that money mattered to her family…with Ambrose and Nic “missing”, she had complete control over Meirs Enterprises Worldwide, which meant more money than she cared to think about. For friends of Cade, money was NOT an option anyway.

About 20 minutes later, Mel felt it, somewhere near was a powerful witch. Her hand went instinctively to Cade’s, their fingers interlacing. The signature was not one she recognized, the magic different, old world like her mother and brothers’. Her eyes scanned the crowd as people descended from the second floor on the escalators. She could more than stand on her own, but after the past events, having Cade there without her family was not something she was altogether comfortable with. If whomever possessed the magic was hostile, it could get ugly fast if they sensed her as well. Not since Adama had she faced down a threat, and that…she closed her eyes and swallowed before the thought fully materialized.

“Do I need my gun, or is this something of the invisible sort, babe?” Cade’s chin rested on her shoulder as he spoke just loud enough for her to hear. He knew her signs well enough. When she was tense, it was never a good one.

“Shooting them is as good as dropping a house on them, I guess. A lot easier when inside too.” She tried not to let her nerves show with some humor, but she was anything but lighthearted with the situation. As they sat there waiting for Arthur and Heaven, she did not stop scanning everyone coming in their direction. It was that scanning that produced what would be the biggest shock of the day, the revelation that the witch was Arthur’s wife. “You are definitely NOT shooting the witch.”

Cade chuckled, having no clue what had suddenly changed the beauty on his lap’s mind. “And that would be because….”

Mel stood as the pair approached them, “you must be Heaven,” she greeted the tiny woman with a bright smile and offered hand. There was no way that Heaven couldn’t sense her as well, but seemed to completely not notice. She then remembered that Cade had mentioned that Heaven was originally from France, and since Louisiana is a bilingual state, she had an idea to make the woman feel even more welcome. “Bienvenue en Louisiane où dans le bayou, les sorcières sont vénérées. Je crois que vous et ma famille vous entendrez très bien. Ma mère est une grande prêtresse du vaudou. (Welcome to Louisiana where in the bayou, the witches are revered. I believe that you and my family will get along very well. My mother is a high priestess of Voodoo.)”

Heaven’s eyes widened at her words, clearly not having expected them. “Comment le saviez-vous? (How did you know?)” The woman looked absolutely confused, which was when Mel remembered she still had the talisman on that Dontanion had given her when they were hunting Adama that cloaked her magic.

“Parfois, une sorcière en connaît une autre. J'ai aussi deux frères sorciers à la maison. C’est en quelque sorte une affaire de famille. (Sometimes a witch just knows another one. I have two warlock brothers at home too. It kind of runs in the family.)” Mel gave the woman a wink and then turned to Arthur and Cade who were both looking at her with rather confused expressions.

“What, can’t one girl fluent in French welcome another? Do you know how often I get to use that?” She smiled, Cade giving her a look that said he knew better and she’d have to explain once that they were alone. “You must be Arthur.” She extended her hand to him, “it is such a pleasure to meet any friend of Cade’s. You both are now family, that is how it works here. We will spend a couple of days out on the Plantation, and a couple here in the Garden District. My mother has been up since dawn cooking, so we best not keep her waiting too long. Mama Marie is not one to be kept waiting.” Mel laughed.

Cade knew his fiance better than that. Those were far too many words for just a polite hello, and he did recognize enough to know that she’d found her witch. But, he was a good boy and would say nothing. Things normally worked out more in his favor that way. “You’re discussing how to bankrupt us in the French Quarter aren’t you?” A brow rose and he nudged Arthur with an elbow. “I hope you brought all your plastic, bro, my girl can shop!”

Arthur for his part either missed what the exchange was about or was so entranced by his bride he gave not one fuck. He did, however, growl at Cade’s remark, which told the fellow soldier that he probably had experienced a similar shopping excursion to the one Mel had more than once put him through. Although, to bankrupt them, Mel would have to literally buy the entire French Quarter, as in the land it was sitting on and all the buildings.

"Can you not behave for two minutes?" Mel’s brow rose as she looked between the two men, Cade trying not to laugh and Arthur about taken aback at her words. “No growling.” She raised both brows and looked pointedly at the Brit. Heaven giggled next to her, which just had Arthur rolling his eyes. “Now, you boys do the heavy lifting of getting the luggage, Miss Heaven and I are going to go get the car from the garage and bring it around. And you two can ride in the back.” She dropped a kiss on Cade’s cheek with a big grin and a wink over to Heaven. She already liked the striking and beautiful woman. Wait till her family laid eyes on her!

*****

From the airport, to River Road, Mel gave a guided tour to their guests of the historical context of each and every plantation along the road. Her mother had been alive for the building of many, although she did not share that quite yet. For Heaven, it might not have surprised her, for Arthur, he might have tried to exit the vehicle while at 60MPH. The latter was more her concern.

Finally they arrived at Vita Pacis Plantation (Life of Serenity). It had been renamed after Ambrose’s death, her mother choosing the name for what this now represented to them all. It was a place of peace, of respite from the life they lived in Baton Rouge and New Orleans, from the missions they went on collecting artifacts around the globe. It was to this estate, to the buildings that rested upon the land and had for over 300 years, that Mel and her friends returned to find peace and to be at peace. It would be on this estate where she would marry Cade in six months.

As they drove up the red brick drive, live oaks arching over it with their green leaves and the dangling spanish moss providing shade, she heard Heaven gasp as she got her first view of the grand plantation house mansion. It was impressive with white limestone exterior and grecian columns that rose three stories, the floor to ceiling french doors that served as windows to the rooms were framed with dark red hurricane shutters. It created an impressive picture when famed with the arch of the live oaks over the drive. Just the guest house had four bedrooms and was a sight, but the grand mansion was something out of a movie. Lovingly preserved by the Meirs family, and now the LaVeaus, it was a piece out of time and history. The dark stains of the past that it held could never be erased, but they would be made up for over time. Now it stood for the LaVeau legacy, and that was a strong, vibrant, and proud legacy.

Mel knew that when she had opened the wrought iron gates of the drive, it had alerted those within the guardhouse and the mansion of their arrival. No one got onto or off of the property without being noticed. If you tried to come on secretly, there were things seen and unseen that would greet you. You had better hope the former got to you before the latter did. So, when Mel pulled the large black SUV around to the back of the mansion, it was of little surprise that her mother stood flanked by her brothers, waiting to greet their guests. She could not wait till they discovered the surprise that lay in store.

Once the car was stopped, and everyone was out, Mel led Arthur and Heaven over to her family while Cade unloaded the luggage from the back. She could tell that all three of them immediately recognized in Heaven what she had and the adoring smile her mother cast on Heaven warmed her heart. Marie was known for taking in anyone needing a mother and love, and it was clear she was already looking that way at Heaven, no matter if she had family back home or not.

Marie was the first to speak, stepping forward and taking both of Heaven’s hands in her own. “Salve, fili mi, maiores te ad nos perduxerunt. Hic semper domum habebis. (Welcome, my child, it seems the ancestors have lead you to us. Here you will always have a home.)” Then she leaned forward and placed a soft kiss in the middle of Heaven’s forehead.

Arthur tensed and Mel leaned over, “my mother adopts anyone she feels needs love. She sensed that in Heaven and has welcomed her to always see this as a home.” She kept her voice low as to not embarrass Heaven who was now tightly embracing Marie and she swore she saw a tear on the porcelain skin of her cheek. “You too Arthur, Vita Pacis means Life of Serenity. Any friend of Cade’s is family here, where the mind can find peace when one needs.” With a soft and warm smile on her face, her eyes gently closed as she inclined her head.

The stoic man just inclined his head in return before turning back to the scene where both Francois and Dontanion were further introducing themselves to his wife, who seemed to be taking everything in stride. As dwarfed as the beauty was by her gruff husband, she looked absolutely tiny next to Mel’s brothers who were both well over six feet in height and broad shouldered. “See, I told you this trip would be good for you.” Cade finally made it up to them and clapped Arthur on the shoulder. “And Mama Marie and the spooky bunch has adopted another stray. I guess we’re brothers now, Arthur. Wait till you taste her food! We may never get you back to England.” They all laughed as they began to head in to see exactly how big of a feast Marie HAD prepared.

@call-sign-shark @raincoffeeandfandoms @saltysupercomputer @blind-the-winds @sunset-a-story @touloserlautrec @aziz-reads @toribookworm22 @outpost51 @late-to-the-fandom @writingmaidenwarrior @spookyceph

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bobapenguindolls · 1 year ago

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Gonna go out this weekend to see a concert so I gotta bring my main man Donnie with me 😂

#mutant mayhem #tmnt mutant mayhem #teenage mutant ninja turtles #boba penguin post #boba penguin photos #action fiction #photocard

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itwasrealtome · 3 months ago

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Here's the thing:

Character A is a Navy Seal commander who returns to the island of Hawaii after many years for the funeral of her father - a simple bar owner.

But Character A soon discovers that her father's death was no coincidence when a friend of her late father's - then running for governor - provides her with information about another candidate and his shenanigans.

Character A investigates in secret and settles back on the island, reconnecting with old acquaintances, including Character B (a woman), a renowned lawyer, her first love and on/off relationship since she was 17.

The story is only a premise, since in book two, character A works for the governor and forms an elite unit. Character A then assembles a team that will soon become Ohana (family).

Of course: a few difficult missions, the progress of the relationship between character A and B, but also other relationships, secrets, family stories, a little violence and love.

Did I mention that the governor, a 45-year-old woman, begins a secret relationship with a member of character A's team, a 24-year-old young officer… A WOMAN…?

If you have questions, my asks are open 🫶🏻

#writing fiction #sapphic novel #sapphic romance #inspired by hawaii 5-0 #fiction #new ideas #eliteunit #action fiction #police investigation #military oc #military oc x attorney oc #woman x woman #please tell me

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bendingthelaws · 1 year ago

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Demitri and Colt had left shortly after the meeting in Colt’s office to go and talk to some of their contacts. They also needed to decide how to handle the fact that they WERE still the attorney on record for Constant Rakeovich and neither of them wanted to remain such. After what had happened in his office, Colt thought it better for that conversation to happen somewhere that Abby would not overhear them again.

Sensing his dark mood, Abby covered the top of Colt’s desk in post-its. Each one with something goofy, or a question out of her Bar Exam study guide. He'd left those post-its of hers from the other night on his desk all night, ones she’s just put smiley faces on after he’d won his latest court case...she wondered what he'd do with all these. She knew if left to just the two of them, both Colt and Dimitri would stew. Somewhere in the last five years, she had become the one to break the tension, and this was her newest way. Dimitri would get a dozen pryaniki on his desk in the morning, he was brightened up more with food, and seemed to love teaching her to bake treats from his homeland.

***

Colin was in danger, his intern being tortured and murdered, and Colt was in a fucking shitty ass mood from everything he and Dimitri had found out while they were out of the office. So when he opened the door to his office and saw the top of his desk, he came to a complete stop. The little imp that was his assistant had covered the top of his desk in pastel colored post-it notes…again. Dear god, there were dozens of them. He thought there had to be even more than the last time she’d done it. Her antics from the other night had been topped, but what the fuck had she put on them this time?

He went over to his desk and started looking at them. Her elegant writing was on each of them. Some made him laugh and others just had him shaking his head. What in the fuck was she doing?

Then it hit him and he felt like an idiot, she was distracting him. That's what she was doing. And she'd done a damn good job. While I'd been reading every single one, two hours had passed and I hadn't thought of where his brother was, or what was going on with him. He had relaxed. He had even laughed. It was what he needed. Damn little imp.

"ABBY!" Colt’s voice rang out it his office, more than loud enough for her to hear in her little alcove of an office off of their waiting room.

Abby's head peaked around the corner, her brows raised as she pretended not to know what was going on. "Yeah, boss? Has something more happened? You didn’t need the Smith filings until the morning, I’m still working on getting them all entered. I hate this case, just so you know." She gave him a sarcastic smile, still playing stupid

Had something more happened? So, the imp would play stupid. It almost made him laugh. "Yes, it has. SOMEONE has vandalized my office. I need you to call Detective Kase and tell him he'll need to come by. This is the work of someone devious. Boxes left on Colin’s desk and apparently pastel post-it notes on mine. Might be the work of the same person." He was smirking and he was trying to keep from busting up laughing.

"Vadalism? Are they threatening?" She stepped into the doorway. Surely he recognized her handwriting. "Are you sure it's not a friendly prank? Someone just being silly?" If he hadn't docked her pay in the past, he was going to now. Or maybe even fire her. Her heart raced and she felt light headed, the color draining from her face slowly once more.

Wrong day to be sarcastic, apparently it was the wrong day for Colt to do anything. Putting down the few post-its he had in his hand, he walked over to where Abby stood looking like she was about to panic. Demitri was eventually going to kill him for upsetting her, it was just a matter of time. Maybe he’d get a warning shot in the shoulder if he was lucky. Although he’d never known his partner to be especially generous in that department.

"Sweetheart, I was teasing." He took her face in his hands and tipped her head to look at him. "Just a tease. I knew it was you, and it has helped my mood." He leaned forward slightly to look her in the eyes. "You need to relax, or you're going to have your other boss kicking my ass." He chuckled as he looked down at her.

Heat flooded her cheeks, bringing with it a bright pink tinge. "Oh, oh god, I'm sorry, Colton. I guess I'm just on edge." The feel of his hands on her face was distracting, as was how close he was. The scent of his deep and rich cologne wasn't helping. You weren't supposed to be attracted to your boss. "I'm glad it helped. If Demitri gets too grouchy, I'll just pour more Yellow Spot in his coffee. That seems to do the trick." She gave him a nervous smile, trying not to get lost in those yellowish-green eyes of his.

"I'm sure it does help," Colt chuckled and moved his hands to her shoulders. If he kept them on her face, he was going to end up kissing her and then there really would be problems. She was a decade younger, and he was her boss. There was no way that it would get him anything but slapped and hated. "You know I'd never really dock your pay, right?" That had bothered him, Demitri was right that she was far better than either of them deserved.

"I, umm, well I would have deserved it if you had." Butterflies were filling her stomach and she felt very nervous suddenly. Her hands fidgeted nervously between them as she was now very acutely aware of how close he was, the weight of his gaze, and the feel of his hands still on her.

There was little she could have said that would have made him feel like more of an ass. They were going to lose her when she passed the Illinois Bar Exam. It was far past time to talk to Demitri about that. He wasn't ready for her to walk out of his life, maybe it took such a situation to make him realize it.

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browngoblin · 2 years ago

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#michiko malandro #michiko to hatchin #a #michiko e hatchin #femme fatale #black anime characters #anime aesthetic #black anime girl #michiko & hatchin #anime #manga #animatedblackgirls #2000s anime #old anime aesthetic #animation #action fiction #adventure fiction #anime woman

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gameofthunder66 · 1 year ago

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The Boys (2019- ) tv series

-(finished) watchin' Season 2- 11/1/2023- 3 [3/4] stars- on Amazon Prime

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erika-mr · 2 years ago

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It's been a minute since I bought an action figure. I debated on getting this guy for months before I caved. Probably the best one in the lot next to Leon quality wise. Can't do any fancy light photos with him yet but I will soon.

#Bleach #hollow ichigo #Ichigo #zangetsu #Game Toys #action fiction #anime #manga #he tall

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booksofdelight · 2 years ago

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The Best Action Fiction Books of All Time

For those that love action books, there are many great books by many great authors. Robert Louis Stevenson and Jules Verne released many amazing novels and while they have come to define the genre, they are others that have also contributed. That is why we will be making a list of the best action fiction books of all time. Keep reading to find out which books made the list. Making these lists…

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#action #action fiction #adventure #Blog #blogging #book #Book Recommendations #books #books to read #classics #Fiction #list #lists #reading #writing

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behindthesemasks · 1 year ago

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“Whose gun was that?” Case asked looking at the rest of the team members still assembled in the room after Mel had left. All heads turned towards the table where the weapons had been laid.

“Fuck! Mine.” Gabriel growled before heading to the door to follow the petite brunette who had left the room stunned by her actions. None had ever even thought she’d do anything like she had, let alone use that kind of language. She had always been more of the quiet and reserved type of person. Now Gabe worried what she might do, and who else she might shoot, with his gun.

“Well, that was exciting!” Cam chuckled as he reached down and flipped the chair with Andreas in it back upright. Everyone was pretty much ignoring the whimpering of the man in the chair, although his groans when the front feet of the chair hit the floor again did make Cam chuckle even more.

“Come on; let’s keep her from killing someone. Erik, Cam…you two play nice with our guest here and see what he has to say. If he stops cooperating, let me know and I’ll have my granddaughter come back in.” Ambrose grinned and winked at Andreas. He was quite proud of Mel; he wouldn’t have suspected she was capable of such violence. One should never judge a book by its diminutive and graceful exterior though; it was all just a mask that hid what lay underneath. “The rest of you, come on. We have some work to do.”

Ambrose and the others left the room, leaving only Andreas and his two interrogators. The reduction of people in the room didn’t make him feel any better though. He was quite sure he wasn’t leaving the room alive and that one of his two cousins would be the one putting a bullet in his brain in the end of it all. That Mel would be back and inflict more pain also seemed to be a foregone conclusion in the man’s mind as well. He had known her for years, and never had he seen her like that. When she found the one that hired him, he did not envy what she or those around her would do.

Back in the suite, Mel had changed out of her dress and into a black tee and jeans. She was just pulling on her hiking boots when Gabe came in. “If you’re thinking of trying to stop me, I still have the gun and I’ve just proven I’ll use it.” Her eyes were hard and full of fury, but her expression also said that she didn’t really want to hurt him, which made Gabe relax some. He honestly didn’t blame her for her reaction to Andreas. She wasn’t the only one who wanted to shoot him; she was just the one that had.

“I’m not here to stop you Mel. I’m here to make sure that you don’t kill a friendly or get yourself hurt while you lash out in this anger.” Years of experience allowed Gabe to keep his voice calm as he spoke to her. Inside his heart was racing. He knew there was no way that if she went for the weapon that lay on the couch beside her that he could stop her in time for her not to get even a poor shot at him, and at this distance that meant a world of pain for him. Never had it crossed his mind while they’d been in the other room that Mel would take any of their weapons. All of his years of training and attention to detail was now nagging in his brain that he was an idiot for giving her the chance.

“I’m not going to hurt anyone. I’m going to the hospital. Alexander and Sasha are both there. I don’t know who that third man is, but someone needs to be there to keep an eye on them, and not just Caden.” Mel stood after tying the laces on her shoe. Picking up the pistol, she unscrewed the suppressor and tossed it to Gabe. “I don’t need that part. You can either come with me or stay here, but I’m not giving back the gun Gabe.”

Catching the suppressor, Gabe nodded. He wasn’t going to argue with her. “I’ll go with you, but will you give me a minute to go get another pistol. You happen to be holding mine and I don’t like being at a disadvantage.” Gabe gave her a half smile that was a little sheepish.

Nodding, Mel lifted the back of her shirt and slid the weapon into the back of her jeans, after making sure that the safety was on. As he turned to leave the room, she started to follow him. Their path was blocked by Klaus, Case, Nic, and Ambrose. The four of them looked at the pair expectantly, eyebrows raised.

“And you’re going where?” Nic asked, his eyes alternating between the two of them.

“The hospital.” Mel’s tone was flat and her gaze even.

“I’m going with her, but since she has my gun, I have to get another one.” Gabe followed up with a look of resignation on his face and a slightly sarcastic smile on his face as he held up the suppressor.

“I don’t think so.” Klaus challenged her, earning raised eyebrows and amused expressions from Nic and Ambrose. Had he just watched what they had? Did he really want to challenge her right now?

One eyebrow rose and Gabe stepped back as he saw the woman tense. “Excuse me? I don’t remember asking your permission. And what’s more…I don’t need to.” The challenge in Mel’s expression and tone of voice said that if thought he was going to stop her that he was severely mistaken.

Growling, Klaus’s jaw ticked. How had things gone so sideways? “Fine,” he ground out, clearly displeased. “But it won’t be just Gabe going with you. Case and I will be too.” It wasn’t a request, it was a statement. A flat out statement. His expression was a stubborn one and as set as hers was. It was going to be a meeting of the wills and the other four standing there weren’t sure who was going to win.

“Fine, you two can have a pissing match later. I need a gun.” Gabe sighed and started to move forward. He had a new respect for the female, but that didn’t mean he wanted to stand there and watch as she had a stare down with Klaus. He’d seen enough people do that over the years that he knew that it was better to just carry on and let them catch up later.

Ambrose reached behind him and pulled his weapon, handing it by the barrel to Gabe. “Take mine. You,” he pointed to Mel, “don’t argue and take all 3 men. You,” he pointed to Gabe, “keep them from killing each other. You,” he pointed to Case, “be the lookout, take up a sniper position when and where you can. I want you to be the ghost of the operation. And finally you,” his eyes met Klaus’s with an expression that said he was in control here and wasn’t going to be challenged. “You are going to make sure that she gets out of there exactly like she is right now. One bruise and we’ll have words. Got it?” Klaus nodded, as did the others.

Mel smirked and went to her toes to kiss Ambrose on the cheek. “You got it boss.” She gave him a wink before grabbing the front of Klaus’s shirt and started to pull him out the door to the suite. “You heard him, make sure I don’t get myself killed. Your job is to watch my ass, and I doubt you’ll have a problem with that.” She had mostly gotten her way, if she was going to have an entourage; she was going to give them hell.

Case about choked as he laughed and Gabe rolled his eyes as he followed the pair. They could both see the tick in Klaus’s jaw. Neither was exactly sure what he was restraining himself from…throttling her, or kissing her senseless. Knowing Klaus, it might be a mixture of both.

“Who’s driving?” Mel’s voice came from the front.

Case and Gabe looked at each other for a second before Gabe answered, “Case. You get to play pampered princess in the back seat with me and Klaus.” He slowed up a bit, half expecting her to come round at him.

“At least you have it down what my position is in this.” The sarcasm was thick in Mel’s voice and this brought a full on laugh from Gabe. She was going to give them hell every step of the way, he was sure of it. Not that he really expected any less of her.

“You’re not going to make this easy, are you?” There was no missing the resignation in Klaus’s voice that she was not going to give an inch and be in charge.

As they waited for the elevator, Case and Gabe took up positions on each side of Klaus. They were ready to block anyone coming from the back and shield anyone coming off of the elevator. Given they were taking the entire top floor of the hotel, the first wasn’t really too great a possibility unless it was another member of the team. And since this floor required a key to get to, the same was true of the elevator, but one never knew and you always planned for contingencies.

Mel turned to face him. “I’m going to do what needs to be done. That’s what I’m going to do. They’re after Alexander, Klaus; do you really expect me to sit her on my hands and do jack shit? It’s your cousin in there, who shot one of the nicest people I’ve ever met and would have put the red dot on Alexander’s head too. So, no, I’m not going to make it easy. You’re going to tell me when you run and op that it’s always easy? Of course not…so if you can’t handle things…”

Mels’s words were cut off as she found her back against the wall and Klaus’s face in hers. His eyes were hard and even she saw his jaw tick. “If I can’t handle it, what? I can walk away. NOT.FUCKING.HAPPENING. Feel me, doll? You can try to push me away all you like, it ain’t happening again.” His breathing was heavy and it was clear she’d hit a nerve. Still her face didn’t relax, she was defiant as ever and he found it sexy as fuck. Watching her when she’d been sad and meek had broken his heart, this was the woman he had fallen in love with all the years ago. The one who was ready to take on the world.

Before she could stop him, his lips crashed into hers. One hand was next to her head, against the wall, and the other was holding the back of her neck, his thumb by her ear. His kiss was rough, demanding, and possessive. All truth, he wanted to pin her against the wall and do much more than kiss her, but he knew this wasn’t the time or the place. His cock straining against his pants wanted to argue that point though.

There had always been something about his possessiveness and dominance that was a turn on and that was no different now. The fist holding his shirt tightened, digging a small pearl button into the palm of her hand. She kissed him back with the same passion, not caring about the two other men who were standing there. They were big boys, they could deal.

Finally Klaus broke the kiss, keeping his forehead against hers and looking into those clear blue eyes he adored. “I’m not gonna back down, doll. You want to take out my cousin? So do I. He’s gone too far. And I want to make sure Alexander is safe too. But you going off half-cocked and getting yourself hurt, or worse…it isn’t going to help a damn thing. So be pissed we’re with you if you want, but it ain’t changing. So we can have the rest of this discussion later.”

As the elevator dinged, arriving at the floor. Klaus’s lips curved into a smirk and he kissed the top of her nose. “Now get that sexy ass in line and let’s do this.”

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evanthenerd83 · 1 month ago

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"Third Person: A Marvin Mission"

I blink, and I’m sitting in a chair.

The familiarity of my cabin no longer applies. Crispy paper is now imperceptible. Someone clears their throat.

I can hardly see anything. Someone strikes a match, flame flickering.

A ghostly face materializes.

Fear is replaced by anger.

Words begin assembling themselves on the tip of my tongue, but I hold back. No sense making things worse by biting the hand that feeds me.

Or… the hand that pays me.

Though, honestly, nothing would really change.

Silhouettes come into view. A desk separates us. Blinds where a window would be, closed.

A cabinet stands nearby.

The doors are slightly ajar, and I can see something inside.

Something red.

“Ellen,” I whisper.

Ellen takes a drag of her cigarette.

“Marvin.”

She nods.

“What’s up,” I blink again.

My vision begins to adjust. Everything becomes a little bit clearer.

Her office is drab.

Sparsely decorated or furnished, aside from her desk and chair and cabinet.

A vast expanse of polished marble. A high ceiling meets tall windows on all sides. These would reveal the familiar New York City skyline.

If the sun wasn’t currently setting.

Ellen hates it. Especially now, when the color is no doubt shifting, turning a deep, dark red. She won’t say why.

Of course, I know why. Doesn’t matter how much she tries to hide, feelings will always hit me.

That red shade descending upon the Big Apple?

It reminds her of blood. Carnage. Human meat rendered into ground beef. And she has seen enough of such things.

I can’t blame her.

Not really.

“Not much.”

A minute passes by. During that time, neither of us will speak. We lap up the silence, letting it settle.

You could hear a pin drop.

“Uh… Ellen?”

She doesn’t respond. Her lips stay pursed.

Her cigarette nears its inevitable end. It burns down an inch.

“Ellen,” I cough. “I…”

��Marvin.”

I instantly close my yap.

Her voice just then. Jesus Christ.

It was empty, hollowed out. Lacking her usual weapons-grade wit.

Not just that. It’s also hoarse, rubbed dry; bleeding and raw.

Almost as if…

Ellen takes another drag. Breathing in its sweet poison. She kills the gasper, but doesn’t use her new ashtray. The one Nessie gave her, a crystal affair.

She instead stabs it into her desk.

Violently.

“I’m going on a date.”

She lets those words settle. I roll them around my mind, tasting them. I find them rather bland and basic.

“You’re doing what now?”

“I’m going on a date.”

“A… date?”

“Yes. A date.”

I blink.

“Is this code?”

A snicker tears through her slender throat. A subtle curl of her lips, paler than moonlight.

“Oh, Marvin. You really don’t trust anyone, do you?”

The remark cuts deep. Fresh blood welts up from the wound, igniting emotions like gasoline. A word builds on my tongue.

I could say it. I really could. And her response wouldn’t be that terrible. She might get angry, might threaten to Erase me.

Even though doing so would put the efficiency of META at risk.

They’d lose their trump card.

All because of an emotional gamble.

But despite my urge to unleash a certain five-letter word, I hold it in.

I choose an alternate path.

“You’re going on a date. May I ask who you’ll be meeting?”

“Just some guy?”

Ellen nods. “Just some guy.”

She gets up from her desk.

My eyes have grown accustomed to the dark. Blame my nature as an imaginary friend.

I finally notice what, admittedly, should have been obvious. She has shed the top layer of her uniform. The jacket evades discovery.

Her business shirt is white.

And untucked.

Huh. I’ve never seen her like this before.

Ellen is usually a lot more tidy. A business-focused perfectionist obsessed with maintaining order. Her desk contains multitudes of stacks. Files are alphabetized.

Disorganized interns get the shaft.

“Does this guy have a name?”

She turns around.

“Where does he work?”

No reply. She reaches into the wardrobe.

I lean back, cross my arms. “Can you at least tell me how you met him?”

No dice. She fiddles with something, most likely the red thing I saw earlier.

A hanger bangs against wood. I can’t see it, but I hear it. The sound echoes as if this room were a cave.

Frustration reaches a fever pitch, and I do the unthinkable. I lean back in my seat. I put my boots up.

There. That will do. Now she will have to respond, or else her silence will be misconstrued. I will think silence counts as permission.

I’ll get my dirty boots, the soles blackened by dried ink, all over her precious desk.

Again and again. I smirk, wait for the jolt. The slow turn of her head. The glare to fall upon me like God’s wrath on Sodom and Gomorrah.

Old testament punishment from my creator.

She simply continues fiddling with a hanger.

“None of your business, Marvin.”

My smirk melts.

“All you need to know is this…”

She turns back around, and I can see it.

The dress. I do not know where she got it from, since I’ve never seen her wear one. It must be on loan. Maybe Nessie.

Maybe Bill stopped by again. At that thought, anger flares up inside me.

I bite my tongue.

I feel the rage fade away as quickly as it came.

“Uh, Marvin?”

I find Ellen staring at me.

“Can you turn around? Or leave the room? I need to change.”

I stand outside her office.

Silence surrounds me. It’s just us. Everyone else has left the building for the night.

Most would have done so early. Why wouldn’t they? Tonight’s the night for lovers to dance in the moonlight.

For lips to meet in conspiratorial darkness.

For hands to explore unseen depths.

For couples.

I sigh. The sound is thrown back at me.

I’m single. On Valentine’s Day. Social interactions are brief and inconsequential. No use getting close to other people, for I am a ghost.

No use asking Ellen to make an imaginary friend of my own. She won’t. And I’ll never ask her to.

Creating me took blood, sweat, and tears.

Emotional trauma. Nightmares. The pain of losing something invaluable, cherished.

The power which Creates comes with a heavy price. Most of those who try go mad. Others are torn apart by their own malformed ideas.

We’ve stopped experiments, and I’ve cleaned up what is ultimately left in their wake.

I close my eyes.

What I see is hell. Hell is blood and guts, intestines strewn about, faces staring at you in abject, nut-shrinking terror. Hell is finding an ink-drowned cradle.

When compared against those cases, loneliness seems far better. Far less messy.

A faint squeaking sound.

I open my eyes.

A young woman steps out. Heels click on polished marble. She fishes a key from her pitch black purse. Twists it.

The locking mechanism engages. For a split second, symbols flash. They float in the air. They were always there.

The woman returns it. She turns around to fix her gaze upon me.

“You ready to go?”

I blink.

This stranger tilts her head. “What? Why're you looking at me like that?”

I shake my head. Shock dissipates.

“N-no reason,” I stammer.

The dress fits her perfectly, almost too well.

Red, cotton fabric, a special affair. The yellow belt accentuates her thin waist.

The skirt reveals legs smooth as ebony. Moonlight white skin without mole or wrinkle. I am in awe.

I look away.

“You were saying,” cough. “Something before…”

A moment of confusion. Then realization.

Ellen snaps her fingers, then goes to walk down the lengthy corridor. In the direction of the elevators.

I follow.

“So…”

“Okay, Marvin. Here’s the deal.”

“Tell me, baby.”

She rolls her eyes. “Christ on a bike.”

I chuckle.

We reach the elevators, one of which is waiting for us. We step inside it.

The doors close. Jazz music starts to play from speakers in the ceiling. This is rather nice.

“You will… attend me… on my, uh, date.”

Ellen stands with both feet together. Her voice is soft, yet edgy. I recognize the tone almost immediately: self-preservation.

“Oh,” I smirk. “Chaperone duty.”

“Observation duty,” she kicks my shin.

The elevator shudders as floors go by. Eighteenth floor. Seventeenth floor. Sixteenth floor.

“Ok. Observation duty.”

“You will pretend not to know me.”

I look at her.

“Wait. I’m going to be—”

She shoots me a glare. “Yes. You will be inside the restaurant.”

“O-oh,” I look away from her. “Ok.”

“Order whatever you want. Eat as much as you want. I don’t give a shi—”

I wave my hands.

“Wait. Wait, wait, wait, wait. What restaurant?”

“Galente,” Ellen taps her foot.

My mouth falls open. Shock renders my spine jelly, and I fall back into the wall.

Ellen smirks. A sharp expression. Her eyes remain locked on the monitor above the elevator buttons.

“Surprised?”

I pick my jaw off the floor.

“When did you—”

“Reserve a seat? Didn’t have to. Owner’s a family friend.”

“A family frie—”

Wait.

Wait. Wait a minute.

“... Hey. I can’t go into Galente!”

She whips towards me. A little eyebrow curls as if irradiated.

“And why the fuck not?”

I gesture towards my current attire.

“I can’t wear this inside—”

She looks me up and down.

She looks me in the eye.

She smirks. “Marvin, what are you talking about?”

I spread my arms wide. “What are you talking about, Ell? Look at me! I’m—”

My eyes glance down for just a split second. Then I notice. Words fail to do my transformation justice.

Ellen looks back at the numbers. “You clean up nice.”

Goodbye brown trench coat, rumpled slacks, and combat boots. Hello, mysterious new suit. It matches my hair. Pure black.

The undershirt is conventional white. The tie has stripes. The shoes are polished enough to reflect my bewilderment back at me.

Oh.

Well then.

Heat in my cheeks. Shame in my bones.

“Th-thank… You?”

“You’re welcome.”

Finally. Our descent ends. One final beep, and the doors open.

Ellen instantly passes through. I’m so distracted by my transformation that I have to play catch up.

“So what about… ?”

My right hand feels different. Like something’s…

… I glance.

A credit card has appeared. Ellen’s credit card.

The light gray color is a dead giveaway. As is the image visible behind all of the relevant information. A pen and a sword clutched in one hand.

META’s official logo.

Words run beneath this strange new tool.

Gladius super calamum

Latin. Roughly translated? “Sword over the pen.”

“Did you just give me your—”

Ellen comes to the first of several security checkpoints. Two machines resembling metal detectors and X-ray monitors.

“Yes. I did. Get a move on, Marvin.”

She steps through one.

Part of me, tiny, sniffling, composed of childhood trauma, cringes in silent dread. It always fears what the future may bring.

The alarm could go off any second now. A banshee’s wail that will forever separate us. The red light could start flashing.

Both of our lives could end right this second.

Against my better nature, I breathe in.

“We’re running late.”

She reaches the other side without triggering it. I breathe out.

Galente is a beauty.

Small. Brick and glass. The sign has wrinkles from age.

Roof glints. Moonlight kissing the panels so carefully laid overhead. During the day, it burns, brighter than the sun.

A mercy.

I whistle. My eyes glance at Ellen.

She applies lipstick. Bright red. Blood red.

A shudder slowly builds. Memories scream from the past.

I bite my tongue. My own scream never comes.

If it did…

… I look away.

Galente sits, isolated. A building surrounded by trees. Botany is not my strong suit, so I can’t recognize which kind.

But I do know professionalism when I see it. And whoever trimmed these trees was a professional.

The leaves barely move.

Even as Old Man Winter whispers. Begging for euthanasia.

A short footpath cuts through the mini-grove. Concrete. It is nearly clear.

Aside from…

I tap Ellen’s shoulder. “Is that—”

“Yep.”

Somebody stands near the entrance. A guy, obviously.

He lifts one arm. Glinting steel reveals the wristwatch, even at this distance. Has he been waiting long?

Apparently.

He lowers the arm. Visibly sighs.

He turns towards us.

Sees us. And…

“Ah!”

Ellen blinks. In my peripheral vision. All of my attention is on him, whoever he is.

Suspicion grows. His face doesn’t ring a bell. Neither does his voice. He starts jogging towards us, smiling; white teeth.

Tension.

He might have a weapon, a gun or a knife. This could be a distraction. Somebody will jump out of the shadows, or two; maybe more.

They’ll surround us.

Incapacitate us.

That is always a possibility.

Considering how Ellen is the director of META. Very important person. Quasi-governmental official.

I nearly step forward.

But before I can, Ellen moves first.

She speed-walks. A very fast stick.

They meet halfway.

“Ellen Shirley?”

“Michael Finch?”

They both nod.

Introductions concluded.

Then comes the silence. An awkward, heart-squeezing lull in conversation.

The two of them stand there. Feet apart. Eyes locked on each other.

Like characters with no script to follow.

A gust comes and goes. Ellen’s hair flutters. For a few seconds, I lose sight of Michael, the suspicion twitching.

But only for a few seconds.

“So…”

Words overlap. It would be cute, cliche.

If I wasn’t worried about outside intrusion.

My eyes scan the footpath. Shadows loom between each tree. I search for the slightest movement.

The glint of metal.

Another gust. This one is harsher. The chill feels sharp against my face.

Really wish I had a beard right about now. Or could grow one.

Ellen shudders. She wraps her arms around herself. Goosebumps flare up and down the exposed skin.

“Um. Micheal?”

“Yes?”

“Can we, maybe, go inside?”

“Oh. Oh god. I’m sorry.”

The kid steps to the side, gestures towards the front door.

Ellen flashes a quick smile. Reassuring supernova. Then her eyes fly towards me, and I understand.

‘Lay low,’ those eyes of hers say. ‘Don’t do anything stupid, and I’ll pay you.’

I smile back.

“Miss Shirley?”

The woman approaches.

A railroad spike on legs. A golden retriever, but with black hair and green eyes.

Sweet.

I let Ellen and Michael go first. It is their dinner date, after all. They deserve at least some modicum of privacy.

Some.

As for me?

I’m nobody.

The nameless bodyguard. A third wheel. No one is supposed to know I exist, especially not the general public.

Thankfully I don’t show up on media. Video. Audio. Good luck collecting evidence. Many have tried. All failed.

To the average American, I’m a cryptid. Urban legend.

I like it that way.

Ellen nods. “Yes.”

The woman absorbs. Then her smile widens.

“Excellent. We’re ready for you now. Please follow me.”

She turns around. The lovebirds do what they’re told. And they do it hand-in-hand.

His are bigger. They enter the dining area, disappear. I clench a fist until it hurts. A second later, the woman returns.

She slips back behind the podium. White hands clasped on top. Her eyes meet mine, then her head tilts.

“Can I help you, sir?”

I approach.

Her smile dips ever slightly. Can’t blame her though. Dogs frequently bark whenever I’m around. Cats hiss.

“Uh,” I cough. “Yes ma’am. I’m with her.”

Confusion. Furrowed brows.

A momentary frown. Fear spreads through my chest. For a second, I worry.

I think we’ve finally been separated. Cleaved. That if anything happens, I won’t be there. Won’t be near enough.

“Your name is… ?”

My mouth falls open. Even though I don’t have the words. No one told me I’d be making a speech.

What do I—

Mr. Spade, Ellen’s voice pipes up.

Shockingly clear. Yet fuzzy at the same time. Like she is talking right into my ear.

“Spade. S-p-a-d-e.”

The woman blinks once, twice, thrice. Then it hits. Her eyes suddenly refocus.

And she smiles, wider than ever. Apologetically.

“Oh. Oh! Mister Spade! Right, right, right. This way.”

Fear vanishes. Replaced with relief. I say a prayer under my breath.

Thank god for the Cord.

Ellen and the kid sip wine.

A prickle shoots up my spine. Despite her being of legal age, it still feels weird. She never drinks.

Barely eats either. That pencil-thin stature of hers isn’t from healthy living. She skips out on breakfast, lunch, and dinner most nights.

Work can steal time away. LRCB has no schedule. It can’t be predicted either by man or machine.

Comes and goes.

One may try to understand the hows and the whys, but doing so only spawns more questions, like what. And soon, you’ll start questioning reality itself. You’ll become unmoored.

Ill. Mad.

All we can do is react to ongoing emergencies and grope blindly with precautions.

It’s a wonder that Ellen’s hair hasn’t gone gray.

I side-eye the two lovebirds warily. We’re the only ones in the dining area, dark and hollow with silence. So sound travels loud and clear.

“How long have you been working for META?”

She puts her glass down, swallows. “Seven years.”

The kid whistles. His eyebrows go up. Slight color flares underneath the skin of her cheek.

“That’s a long time.”

“Yes. It is.”

“I’m amazed you’ve lasted this long.”

Now her eyebrow arches. Her smile slips into a smirk. “Oh?”

“I mean… Isn’t it dangerous? Messing with stuff like that?”

It is for humans, her voice in my mind.

I agree.

Michael looks around, apparently ignoring my obvious presence. He leans forward.

Jeez.

Thanks chum.

A finger wriggles. Come closer. Ellen does, twisting her head, which exposes her right ear. She no longer grins.

I tense up.

Talking is fine. But to get so close, too close, pinches a nerve. Whatever part of me that was once a part of her whimpers.

Suspicion tugs its leash. Rabid with childish fear.

No.

Bad Marvin.

Calm down, old boy.

Take a deep breath and—

“Um… Your order, sir?”

We all order our food.

Michael gets lasagna. Ellen chooses fettuccine alfredo. I pick the only Italian dish that I can pretend to tolerate, which is…

“... Mediterranean flatbread, please.”

My waiter— name’s Emilio— takes a now useless menu. Then disappears. So does theirs, a doll named Francesca. Solitude resumes.

Solitude and darkness.

“No. You’re right. It is a miracle.”

My ears twitch.

“So how do you do it? How do you survive?”

Ellen reaches for her glass.

“I… I don’t think I understand. Do you mean… Physically? Mentally? You need to clarify the question.”

I reach for mine.

Michael takes a deep breath.

Ellen sips.

“Spiritually.”

Ellen swallows.

“I didn’t.”

“Come again?”

“Let me ask you a question, Michael.”

Ellen fixes him with her Shirley stare. The room grows cold. Even from a couple of feet away, I feel it.

Shame. I can practically envision myself getting fired. Whipped by her tongue. This in spite of my position being for life.

No.

Not for life. For existence.

I expect Michael to crumple, tears in his eyes. Apologize. Promise his undying loyalty.

But Michael is apparently stronger than I gave him credit for. He takes it full blunt.

“Shoot.”

“What do you do for work?”

“I’m a consultant.”

Quick and to the point. Ellen must defer.

“For?”

“Whoever hires me.”

“Such as… ?”

“Well,” he takes a deep breath. “The government. Commercial groups. Non-profits. It varies.”

Ellen’s curiosity has been piqued. She pushes the topic.

“How—”

A hand is raised.

Anger spontaneously combusts. It ripples across space, strumming the Cord.

Her eyes shift a fraction of an inch. They find mine and hold. Overwhelming ego smothers the flames.

Down boy, a command. I bite my tongue until all I can taste is nothing.

Michael doesn’t notice.

“I can’t really say. Client privilege. The people I deal with, let’s just say they can be rather… paranoid. They value privacy over everything else.”

Attention refocuses.

“Oh?”

“Yeah. S-sorry.”

“No need to apologize. I understand.”

I don’t.

Minutes pass. Their conversation slips away, air light. It’s different than the usual awkwardness.

A consensual type of silence.

I must admit. There’s something with them. Emotional reactions seem to sparkle and fizzle about. Bonds being made.

Ellen herself has opened up. Gone is the cement mask, the stoic brooding found amongst Shirleys. She talks.

Curtly. Succinctly. But she talks.

Then I feel it.

The call. Pressure that builds and builds.

Tulpas still suffer real wants and needs. Sleeping, eating, the joys of existing.

Odd though. I haven’t drunk much.

Two sips at most. Emilio seemed to regard me as our party’s designated driver. He filled my glass puddle-style.

Francesca, however, was far more liberal.

Restroom’s right in front of you.

Ellen smirks.

The men’s room smells of piss and soap.

Too small. Rows along the wall facing me, sinks and mirrors.

A single, conical bulb bleeds light. Dim light. Yellow, like some captured harvest moon.

Insufficient.

Somebody could be hiding further in.

But the call rears up, roars. An almost irrational plea. Bordering on incontinence.

I choose the closest urinal.

I unzip.

I let the rapids flow.

When I return, they’re gone.

I stare.

Their chairs are empty.

Emilio lays face-down and spread-eagle. Horizontally. Between our tables.

Blood pools under his noggin.

Glittering. I peer closer and blink.

Bits of broken glass litter his work clothes. Somebody’s been hitting the bottle.

So no hardware.

Or they just improvised. Firing indoors can be loud.

Someone would have heard.

Somebody didn’t want to be interrupted.

Not if they were being paid.

But they had been.

I amble over, kneel down.

My fingers go to his neck, but I already know. Emilio is dead. Poor sap walked out at the worst possible moment. Saw our Unsub holding…

… What, exactly?

A knife? Fork? Regardless, he’d seen them. Certain people don’t take kindly to being seen.

Not while kidnapping a woman.

“…”

A woman.

“…”

Ellen based me on her favorite character.

Papa was a real bookworm. While not organizing emergency relief or appearing before Congress, he would collect old paperbacks. Hoarded them as if they were coins or action figurines.

The majority were, you guessed it, hardboiled detective stories. And not mainstream authors either. Mixed in among the Macdonalds and Chandlers and Marlowes stood true outliers.

Ellen read them all. She got inspired by them, comforted by them. And she gathered those feelings—expectations—when Papa and Mama bit the big one.

Then made me.

Being your quintessential private eye has its perks. A code of honor. Enough wit to mask the pain as your teeth are kicked in.

And investigative prowess.

I don’t know if my sense of deduction is the usual Holmesian affair or actually a magical power.

But right now, I’m looking. I’m thinking.

Michael did this.

That much is obvious.

He was the only one around at the time.

He’d been laying the charm ever since we arrived. Nervousness goes a long way.

Especially if the other party’s just as twitchy.

Never got a read on the kid.

“Dammit,” I grind teeth.

The receptionist is where we left her, standing behind the pedestal.

Her smile flashes, “Yes, may I help you?”

Huffing. Puffing. I lean forward.

“Did you see anyone leave?”

Said smile loses plasticity. She glances nervously towards the way I’ve just come. “I-I’m sorr—”

I’m not.

“Ms. Shirley and Mr. Finch.”

“Oh, yes. Just a few minutes ago. Ms. Shirley said she needed to get some fresh air.”

“Which way?”

Smile teeters over the edge of a cliff.

“U-um—”

“Where?!”

Resounding boom. On some level, I am dimly aware that my hands hurt.

Slamming them down on metal might not have been a good idea. But that doesn’t matter. Nothing does.

Not when Ell is concerned.

The receptionist blinks several times.

A trembling finger points. “Th-that wa—”

I dart outside.

Night instantly greets me. Cold and occluded.

I look. This part of the city lacks vagrants. Street is empty, no cars passing through.

Loneliness strikes.

Shadows collude close to the building. Hug them like snipers. Thoughts rear up.

Images flood my mind. Veritable film festival of nightmare scenarios.

Ell laying on a slashed side, duct-taped. Blood pooling. Life flowing free.

The car speeding off. Meeting traffic almost immediately, lovers going home sweet home. Workers praying for sleep. But still…

… Something nags at me.

Why would he take her? For ransom?

Fat chance. META won’t pay, won’t negotiate. Even if some numb-nuts has taken its brain hostage.

Ellen is worth a pretty penny. But she inherited more than just her high chair.

The Shirley clan possesses enough artifacts to fill a museum. Rare tomes, written in blood and by finger. Information that people have died for.

He might torture her all night.

She’s strong.

She underwent training as a little girl; martial arts and bibliography and dissociation. She knows what to do when taken.

But…

… But she is still young.

Feels pain. Sooner or later, later, she’ll give in. I wouldn’t blame her if it comes to that.

She’ll talk.

But that’s if.

If I can’t find her.

There’s still the other reasons why some animal would kidnap a young woman.

Certain parties hate her. Us. What we do, it disrupts their secret machinations.

He said that people hire him. For what? To resolve problems.

Yes. Ellen was quite the problem.

They’d pay top dollar to have her within their grasp. Delivered, you might say.

Otherwise… What else was there?

Simple bloodlust?

He could be a serial killer.

I shake my head.

Enough thinking. It’s time for acting.

I resume looking around. Ears prick up, are honed.

They catch labored breathing. Scuffling of shoes. Far beneath the howling wind.

They come from close by. I turn left, hands plunging into my pants pocket.

Fingers curl around familiar ground. Ol’ Pipsqueak. It is freed.

I see them.

He’s halfway down the sidewalk. Back facing me. His suit’s all scuffed up—dirt, creases, no longer immaculately put together.

In one hand is a pistol. Small and black. The exact type eludes me, same with caliber. Yet I do know one thing:

It could kill.

Anger.

I could kill.

“Let her go.”

Michael spins around, pulling Ell along by the hair.

The smile melts. His eyes are dark, and have been for a very long time.

No warmth. Just ice. A predator’s glimmer that tells me everything I ever need to know.

So much for the wedding.

He presses harder against Ell’s temple. “Don’t come any closer.”

“Fuck you.”

Ell squirms.

She’s been roughed up a bit. One cheek is swollen.

The look on her face… Soft as mud, tears streaming. She doesn’t look up to see me.

Doesn’t want me to see.

But I do.

I can’t help, but see.

Ol’ Pipsqueak feels good in-hand. A bullet is screaming out his name, for release. Let it feast.

“You hurt her and I’ll hurt you.”

“But not before I hurt her,” he counters.

A slippery smirk curls his lips.

I don’t move.

“So… Michael, if that is your real name—”

“You know it’s not.”

“Then what do I call you? Bastard? Inch-dick?”

“Doesn’t matter, really,” he chuckles, false-smiling. “But I’d be real careful there, Jack. I’ve still got Little Miss Bitch over here.”

I false-smile back. We’re playing a game.

“Can I ask a question?”

He holds my stare. Thinks for a moment.

“Shoot,” pressing even harder.

Ell whimpers.

I bite my tongue to keep from roaring.

“Why string her along?”

I walk sideways, and he follows suit. We etch a circle into the ground.

“Easier. It’s not like she ever goes out on the town, right? And even then… Not for long.”

Circle, circle. Somebody blasts their horn down the block. Neither of us wince.

“Works indoors. Never goes jogging. Eats breakfast, lunch, and dinner at home. Windows all drawn. I mean, what, does she burn in direct sunlight or somethin’?”

“Or something.”

Ell has gone limp. Her feet drag along the concrete.

“Got no friends. No family. Hell, not even a humpin' buddy. Hey. Man to man? Thought I’d be hitting 'at before, you know…”

He nearly presses the trigger.

Ell stiffens. That seemingly gets him hard, so to speak.

People like him love fear. Other people’s fear. They get off on it, feed on it.

“She wouldn’t let you,” I say.

He smiles. “Sure she would.”

We freeze.

“I mean, someone like her? She’s easy. Broken. I can tell.”

Sure he can. Like a shark with blood.

“She’d beg for it.”

Ell blinks.

“If she wasn’t such a bitch.”

I stare at him. Hard.

He stops smiling. Fingers tighten around the trigger.

“Who hired you?”

Gotta say something.

“Why would I tell?”

“Was it the Front? The Institute?”

“Guess.”

The wind howls.

“M-Marv?”

Her voice breaks the silence. Soft and light.

We both look down. Ell has stopped crying, but the flesh is still raw. A blankness falls.

“Uh huh?”

She meets my gaze.

“Shoot.”

The man glances between us.

I don’t say a thing. Me and her, we hold this thing, this staring contest of sorts.

“Really?”

The man backs away.

He loops one arm around Ell’s waist, pulls tight. Sweat pinpricks his forehead.

Hadn’t expected this. Poor sod failed to recognize who he was dealing with. Who he was messing with.

A Shirley.

“You think that lapdog of yours can? Ha. Don’t make me laugh.”

Ell smirks. “I’m not.”

I walk forward. Ol’ Pipsqueak pulls at its leash, trying to break free. A hungry boy.

The man pauses.

For a second, he forgets who he’s trying to kill. Points his gun at me instead.

I scoff. “Please.”

Fear.

His eyes flash.

Thought goes haybuck wild. A finger twitches, which in turn pulls the trigger.

Boom. Echoing. Shattering the night, flinging the shards all around us.

Ell winces.

I stand.

I turn. A single hole.

I turn back.

Shrug.

The man blinks.

“What the fu—”

My turn.

With one swift motion, I aim and fire.

Another loud boom. Ellen doesn’t even wince.

She looks at me as the bullet slips through, passes through. Her skin becomes fluid. It’s completely harmless.

But the man?

He remains solid. Meat.

It hits like an elephant against paper. Brutal.

The impact knocks him back.

He goes flying down the sidewalk. His limbs jerk this way and that.

Blood sprays everywhere. Gore.

A quarter-sized hole has been punched through suit jacket, dress shirt, flesh, bone.

Out the other side.

Seconds later… Crunch. His head strikes the unforgiving pavement without an iota of protection.

Bounces. Falls again.

Stays there.

I watch for any last minute twitching, breathing.

Nothing.

I breathe out.

It’s over. The threat’s been eliminated. Getting shot through the heart can cut anyone’s strings.

He lays there silent and still. Empty. His peashooter took quite the ride, I guess, because it’s gone.

Poof.

Hope Jimmy Hoffa puts good use to it.

Only…

… Somebody might find it. A bright-eyed, oblivious kid. Or a messy, unlucky vagrant looking for food.

An innocent. Maybe someone who wants a gun, but shouldn’t have it. I know local gangs are desperate.

They’re running out of guns. What good is an uzi against things that can simply erase slugs mid-air? Recruiting dipped around New Years ‘99.

Leaving a firearm where anyone could just nab it would be reckless.

I lower my iron. Fingers unclench as calm floods and solidifies.

Ellen hasn’t done anything. Shock can anesthetize, so I’m ironically thankful for her being human.

You can’t jump around while under gun-sight.

She keeps standing there. Her eyes are dull, beaded with tears.

Our Cord not only lets us talk or know each other’s location. Emotions bleed through. Between. I feel…

… I feel…

… One of her hands dips into her dress. Out it comes, a cigarette, poisonous heaven.

In goes the hand again. She fishes around her bra.

Brings a lighter this time. Same ol’ gold.

My employer lifts it, lights up, then gasps.

#evanthenerd83's storytime #the marvin missions #neo noir #meta fantasy #urban fantasy #action fiction #drama #short story #original writing #creative writing #November 2024

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