#Dank Duo
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Polish featured: Cirque Colors; Dank Duo - Wake And Bake (thermal) + Blaze Glaze (topper)
#dee's nails#black nail artist#nails#nails of tumblr#nails on black women#pretty nails#cirque colors#Dank Duo#green nails#natural nails#nail polish#indie nail polish
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Papierkram? - Screw it!! Zeit für Fußball⚽
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#esther baumann#pia heinrich#tatort saarbrücken#my art#spatort#Team Hörnchen - das einzig seriös arbeitende Duo#da hat man auch mal Freizeit verdient... und man lässt einfach mal alles liegen.. wie Adam und Leo XD#ich freue mich immer... wenn Esther spaß hat... die Frau hat es nicht leicht... vor allem kann sie ihr hobby nach KdE noch genießen#und so sehr ich die Zeitlogik an dieser szene net in den Kopf bekomme... ist sie voller Freud... dank Hölzerchen aber auch schnell vorbei I#fanart#das Bild sollte ich ner guten Freundin widmen... die bei den beiden nun immer an uns denkt XD <3#der fluch des geldes
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Wolffe: (comms in)General, I need you here right now. We can't find Comet. I think he's lost.
Plo: Is it urgent situation commander?
Wolffe: Not exactly sir... Just he always wanders around like his name. And I need him to help my paperwork.
Comet: Due to my respect, commander. I think you can finish that things by yourself.
Wolffe: Comet, get in here right now.
Comet: Can't do that sir, I'm lost.
Wolffe: But you're with general.
Plo: The problem is, commander Wolffe, that it seems I have lost my way as well.
Wolffe:
Wolffe: DANK IT ALL OF YOU
Plo: I have explorer's blood through my family's, Wolffe. You shouldn't expected less of me.
Comet: Wait, really?
Plo: Yes, 'Koon' in my family name means 'explorer'. I do love seeking and...
Wolffe: Enough. Both of you. I will find all of you myself and make you suffer in eternal paperwork. Good luck.(comms end)
Comet:
Plo:
Comet: Woops.
Plo: Indeed.
Comet: We should buy some hot chocolate before he found us sir. It's his favorite.
Plo: Brilliant idea, corporal.
#star wars#the clone wars#commander wolffe#104th battalion#plo koon#clone trooper comet#what have i done#from one of my stupid headcanons that comet and plo is wandering duo bc of their names?#wolffe: i don't care if you're my superior or brother or not i'll end you myself if i need to#comet: we love you too#plo: btw here's your hot choco if you want#wolffe: DANK IT#my crack
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Oh, du musst nicht in Deutsch antworten!
Ja, wir verstehen auch viel Niederländisch. Aber nicht alles ... Und du bildest super Sätze!
Both languages are irrefutably closely related. But it's tricky, there are also great distinctions which make both languages wildly different. For example, a friend of mine dates a German girl from Oberhausen (just 30 minutes across the border). Now, an American or British or French person could think this makes for little obstacles in communication - since both our languages sound so alike. Yet, 3 years of their relationship in, they still need to speak in full English to make themselves understandable haha. And the accents when speaking each other's languages also are so different.
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I think this was done for Halloween.
But damn, Duo started leaking.
#bruh meme#meme#lol memes#funny memes#dank memes#fresh memes#duolingo#halloween#duo owl#app icons#cursed
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my favorite part of c!dream's ''evil lair'' aka the house he built to spite c!techno, is the sign across the door. 'NO TRESPASSERS ALLOWED (technoblade too)'
he really had to be like 'yes, techno, i mean you' because he knew that techno would've seen 'no trespassers' and went 'well surely that doesn't apply to me'
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Danke CAVA & Lewia
Das Datum hatte es in sich. Keine der ursprünglich angekündigten Bands haben tatsächlich gespielt. 🤷♀️ Hier erfahrt ihr, wie es so kam.
Das Datum gestern hatte es in sich. Keine der ursprünglich angekündigten Bands haben tatsächlich gespielt. 🤷♀️ Zuerst standen nur Heckspoiler, dazu kamen dann Millie Manders & The Shut Up aus London. Die Engländer*innen mussten dann leider ihre komplette Euro-Tour canceln, da ihr Bus kaputt gegangen war. Und wie einige wissen, ist das Business für kleine & nicht so bekannte Bands in…
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#Abriss#Austria#Bericht#Berlin#Bilderbuch#Buback#Café Tiko(lor)#Cava#Damage Control#Danke#Double Trouble#Duo#Erfurt#Heckspoiler#Hoff#klavier#Laessig#lewia#London#Millie Manders#Millie Manders & The Shutup#Noise Appeal Records#Österreich#Punk#Punk Rock#Punklavier#Punkrock#Queens Of The Stone Age#records#Review
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Ok so what if I put them in Dark Souls.
Ok, ok, ok, this fucking concept has been stuck in my head for around two months and I never bothered to draw it because I don't enjoy drawing armour and shit as you can see, but I managed to get a rough sketch of some stuff out yesterday and today.
If you would like to hear me yap about how DC Dank Souls would work and Two-Dads boss fight and their designs, feel free to go under the cut. ^-^
So it's basically a Souls-like game where Gotham is a decrepit, corrupt kingdom, even more so now that Bruce Wayne/Batman has died, and the player plays as a random, chosen Gothamite that must take down the villains/morally questionable of Gotham. Obviously I'd have Harvey and Jason be the final boss due to their personal connection with Bruce. They'd have the biggest banger of a boss theme known to man and work as a duo, similar to how Sister Freide and Father Ariandel work, or Lorian, Elder Prince and Lothric, Younger Prince etc. (both from DS3).
Some quick notes about their designs.
Harvey - Blindfolded like Lady Justitia. - His scales are a sacred chime, so they can emit miracles and be used to buff. They are also pointed with a dagger - can be used to stab as a back-up. - Due to Harvey having 'fallen angel' imagery, he DID have angel wings, but over the years and as his corruption grew, they became tattered and broken and sore. They drag behind him like a cape.
Jason - His lower body is bandaged, similar to the bandages he was wrapped in prior to being placed in the Lazarus Pit. - Grim Reaper imagery, but rather than a scythe, he uses twin sickles. Sickles are normally better for prying the hard-to-reach and tougher elements of a crop. - His eyes glow similar to the Lazarus Pit.
First Phase Harvey and Jason share a health bar in the first phase. Jason is very aggressive and will attack the player with quick and brutish heavy attacks with his dual sickles. He can also throw knives, use the environment to leap around and use a chain grapple to grip the player forward. Harvey will buff Jason in the background with his scale chime. Sometimes he will buff Jason's speed, sometimes his strength - however, before he does this, he will flip his coin and there will be a distinct ding. When that ding goes off, the player has around three-five seconds to hit Harvey and prevent the buff. The player can choose to be aggressive to Harvey since he is mostly idle during this phase, but he can admit a divine AOE (Call of the Jury, perhaps it's named) from his chime that will push the player back, forcing them to fight Jason. Git gud.
Second Phase Once the health bar is drained, a cutscene will play. Jason will fall to the ground in defeat, spluttering blood and essence from the Lazarus Pit. He dies. Harvey will fall beside him and cradle him, weeping and lamenting as he does so. He will mumble something like, "a second death to a second life would pleaseth us… however, for one as beloved as thou, we want a third," before carrying him to the Lazarus Pit. He will set Jason into it, before turning to face the player and removing his half-helmet, as well as his blindfold. They will drop to the ground, and from Harvey will admit Janus, melting into view gracefully at his side as a sort of spectre. Double health bar now, woo!
This fight play similarly to the Pontiff Sulyvhan fight from DS3. Harvey will no longer bear his scales and coin; he will swap them for dual swords resembling the Sword of Justice. Harvey's attacks are not as heavy as Jason's, but they are smoother and more elegant, similar to the Dancer of the Boreal Valley from DS3 or Rellana, Twin Moon Knight from Elden Ring. Janus deals less damage but, again similar to Pontiff Sulyvhan, will actually betray what move Harvey is about to perform, giving the player a chance to learn movesets.
Third Phase Once Harvey is defeated, another cutscene will play. He will fall on one knee, crestfallen and weak. He gazes over at the Lazarus Pit and from it will emerge Jason. He will pull down his hood, revealing a distinct, crimson helm that contrasts with his green eyes beneath it (think of Pursuer from DS2). He looks over to Harvey and approaches him before helping him to his feet. Harvey flips his coin, and it comes scarred side up. Jason and Harvey will then face the player, unyielding. Then the health bars pop up, wooooo!
Jason will be similar to his first phase, and Harvey will be similar to his second phase, minus Janus. They are both aggressive, but one will tend to give the player breathing room now and then. Sometimes they will have choregraphed attacks where they work together, sometimes one will try to grab the player so the other can unleash a flurry of attacks. They have separate health bars obviously, so the player will have to choose which of the two they want to try and tackle first, or they can even out both. Git gud.
Ko-Fi Bluesky
#I think only people who FW Soulsbourne will understand what the fuck I'm saying here. And I'm pretty sure that's. Like. 10 of my followers.#Sigh. Oh well.#DC if you want to make a Souls-like game HMU.#I was actually supposed to draw The Judge but I FORGOR.#harvey dent#two face#jason todd#red hood#two-dads au#<- Kinda. It's an AU of an AU. A one-time thing. For one night only!#sketches#soulslike#fanart#dc comics#reginalususart
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@rockingpeeble SAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAAA
Meow there :3
Da bin ich wieder, ich wollte fragen ob du Moonbean mit nem Mistelzweig oder in Weihnachtspullis (ugly sweaters) zeichnen könntest.
Ich denke dass das ganz knuffig aussehen könnte. 🥰🥰🥰🥰🥰.
Hab noch einen schönen Tag 💛
klar !!!
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Eos ist einfach konstant verwirrt wenn ich ihn male lmao
bonus (i am so sorry, i was way too bored)
#omg das ist ja zum Schießen#omg natürlich ist es Zeke mit dem Mistelzweig#er gibt uns wirklich allen Fanservice#DIE SWEATER SIND ABSOLUT AMAZING#ICH LIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIIEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEEBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBBSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSSS#SOOOOOOOOOOOOOOO GUT#OMG#SO RICHTIG SO RICHTIG GUT#awwwwwwwwwww die beiden sind einfach so richtig knuffig#vielen vielen Dank dir für Moonbean#💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛#ich liiiiiiieeeeebbbbb ju's pulli das Rentier ist soooooooooo cuuuuuuuuuuuute so süüüüüüüüüüüüüüüüß#ich liiiiiieb Fips und Zeke als Chaos Duo#ich würd zu gern sehen wie Ju Eos erklärt was Hoe bedeutet#jcu#julien bam#mann im mond#eos#moonbean#santa der boss#weihnachtsmann#klaus#zahnfee#rhun#der sandmann#zeke#pretty art#💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻😻💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛💛
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Okay, after this depressing Signalis idea, here's a happier one.
A much needed smoke break in a side corridor...
It was one of the few places in the facility where there was a spot that was out of view of the security cameras. No one would report such an oversight.
Maybe Adler, Star thought as she took a drag of her cigarette. She glanced at her superior officer fidget with her cigarette. The Storch was not a heavy smoker but always took a cigarette when offered. Sometimes she would light it and puff or she would do as she did now: roll it between her fingers. She often did that pens, paperclips or anything small she got her hand on.
"Ration for your thoughts, comrade," Star said playfully.
Storch took a deep breath and cleared her throat. "I really enjoy having you under my command. I value your skill and company, comrade."
Formal as always. "Is this my employee review?"
"If you like." Storch popped the cigarette in her and leaned down for Star to light it for her. "Danke." She took a drag on it and grimaced at the taste. "Would you forgive me for being blunt about something?"
Star shrugged. "You always are."
Storch took another drag on her cigarette and contemplated her next set of words. "I have feelings for you, Starling."
Star nearly spat out her cigarette, managing to grab it as she coughed. "What?" she wheezed.
"Shhh! Not so loud! The walls literally have ears." Storch checked the nearby vents for any eavesdropping Arars. For all their complaints about being overworked, the worker units had time to learn everyone's business.
"How come you didn't tell me sooner Legs? And why now?"
"To answer the latter, it's been pestering me lately and I wanted give you notice in case you wanted to switch to a different Storch." She noticed Star giggling to herself. "What? I want to be professional about this."
"Storch, be honest, is anything professional around here?" Star waved her hand around. As if on cue, a whole set of lights down the corridor flickered and died. "Not exactly Heimat or the space stations around Tannhauser Gate."
"I hold myself to a higher standards than most."
Star grinned. "Oh I know." She playfully poked Storch in the side prompting a snort from the taller Protektor.
Storch blushed and cleared her throat again. "Also I noticed you were quite close with the Eule in D Block. I didn't want to interfere and I didn't know if you were...interested...in me." She let the cigarette fall from her hand and she stepped on it. "That's it."
Star nodded and took one last drag of her cigarette before putting it out. "To answer that last question." She lifted her hand and placed it on Storch's chest armor. "I am."
Storch's eyes went wide. Protektor units didn't engage in casual physical contact, unless the Stars were sparing, and one certainly didn't put their hands on another unit's armor. A jab to one's chest armor was invitation for an ass kicking. A gentle touch was something different.
Storch nodded in understanding which prompted Star to cover her mouth to stifle a laugh.
"As for the conflict that you raised, I guess I'll just have to upgrade from a duo to a trio."
This idea was completely foreign to Storch. "Wait. What?"
"Of course. Having two girlfriends doesn't break the Rule of Six." Star grinned as she saw Storch fight back laughter. Her fingers started drumming on the hilt of her baton as the Replika had to find something to fidget with as she went through a round of mental gymnastics.
"Huh," was Storch's conclusion after she composed herself. "I'm quite surprised by all this, Starling."
Star shrugged. "What can I say, Legs? I like to live an adventurous life."
Now it was Storch's turn to grin. "You mean like the time you almost blew up the ammunition dump because you wanted a smoke break?"
"That happened one time!"
A few cycles later...
Eule was excited for her meet up with Star, who said she had a surprise. The door opened and Star greeted her with a kiss.
"Hello there. Little Owl, I want you to meet a close friend of mine and hopefully she'll be a close of ours."
The Eule was shocked to see the taller Protektor standing in the room.
"Guten tag," Storch said with an awkward wave.
"O-Oh! Hello!" Eule let out a yelp as Star picked her up, sat on the bed and placed her on her lap. The smaller Replika's cheeks burned as Storch came over and joined them.
"I'm hoping we could all be friends," the Star said, wrapping her arms around Eule's middle while the Storch gently ruffled her hair.
Eule nodded enthusiastically. JACKPOT! When the two Protektor units paused and then burst out laughing did she realize to her horror that she said that out loud.
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Dwelling in the Night
Series Masterlist
Pt. 2 Pt. 3 Pt. 4
Summary: There's a new vigilante figure out on the streets at night. And there's also a new neighbor on the same floor as Steven and the rest of the boys.
Warnings: Mentions of blood, dead bodies, crime, all that. Reader is a vampire so it's implied that they consume blood and all that. Also, Y/N kills, but the act is never actually written or depicted. Steven being dumb and clueless for reasons of the plot. This is mostly Steven-centric and Marc-centric but Jake's here too but doesn't really do anything for the plot other than simply have some lines that progress the plot. Gender-neutral reader with they/them being used for them. Heads up, it does get a bit confusing in one part but I think it's fine.
Author’s Snip: I wrote this in one sitting and it's currently 1:30 am. Honestly, anything to stall my studying for an exam for one of my classes. I wrote this fucking unit of a shot involving my love for vampire Y/N's just to do it.
Notes: Please appreciate vampire reader. We need more of that in the x reader community. I as a reader would love for that to happen more often. Thank you.
Word count: 2,600~
I’ll shut up now. Enjoy!
The system took pride in their patrolling. Even if it was still doing work for Khonshu, they were still free in what they did when coming across a criminal rather than being yapped at. It brought a sort of satisfaction of taking, or at least scaring, another threat off the street. But things were getting weird, and slightly disturbing.
Criminals had started to drop like flies with a theme of them being found in dark alleys with bitten throats, but there was never any blood to be found that made sense with their wounds. Just their pale corpses with looks of fear or shock in their glazed-over eyes.
Jake admired the simple tactic of scaring off would be scum by the fear of being the next person in the obituaries, but he had to admit that the method of doing that was unsettling. He just killed them and let whoever came across the scene be shucked with cleaning the mess.
Marc worried that this other party wasn't actually someone necessarily on "the right side" and this was an actual threat to the public that just so happened to have a streak going with having their victims coincidentally being criminals.
It wasn't until they came across two cases that proved that worry otherwise.
The first was a girl they found running around the alleys in a panic. When they went to her and asked if she was okay, she was babbling about something in her panting. "There was this guy! He dragged me into the alleys, he held up a knife to me and was threatening me!" she explained pointing in the general direction, but she kept talking "But this... in the shadows, there were these two glowing lights, like eyes! And this person came out from there and grabbed them." she said. "I just ran off I didn't know where to go! They were blocking off the way to the street." she exclaimed.
It was actually Steven who was fronting then. He helped her calm down and led her out of the alley system and back in to get the perp and maybe help whoever got him away from the poor woman. But when he found the guy, he was like all the others he and the system had heard about.
Dead with a bitten throat, fear on their face, and hardly any blood in the pool for it to make sense.
The second was with Marc himself. He dropped in on a duo of muggers who cornered a young man, getting a left hook in on one of them. But his buddy ran off into the dark and dank alleys to get away. Marc needed to do a few more punches to get the first down and out before chasing after the second, but he swore he could've seen a figure follow after them in the corner of his vision.
He heard the sound of what must have been the guy's scream as soon as Marc moved on.
But when Marc got there, he was already on the wet brick floor writhing and grabbing at his neck. He saw them. A figure in the shadows where the backlights couldn't reach to show them in all say for a silhouette, had ducked into another alley. "Hey!" Marc called to them before chasing after them. But when he turned the corner, they were gone, only seeing a complete dead end.
When Marc came back to the guy, he found him trying to breathe through a gargled, and bitten, throat. He tried his best to help the guy since he was still alive. Unfortunately, bites to the jugular weren't kind injuries to those who are dealt them.
🩸🩸🩸
"I don't understand," Steven mutters as Marc slides back into their flat after patrolling and finding a few more crooks who came across this other person. "Why the injuries to the neck? And how is there hardly any blood?" he questions, "There's nowhere for it to go. There's nowhere for them to go. They just come out of nowhere and pick these blokes off and leave in such a short moment.".
"I don't know. And I don't think I want to know. This freak's keeping the load easier for us by doing whatever they're doing with these guys." Marc says, emphasizing the word 'freak'. "Hey, watch who you're calling a freak, amigo. We aren't exactly normal either." Jake says, mostly joking. "Yeah, sure. But we're not the one who's having our guys come up without a drop of blood left in them." Marc defends.
A crash is heard from nearby, in the flat next door.
"The hell's going on over there?" Marc muttered to himself as a reaction to the sound, but Steven said a name almost instantly.
"Who?" Marc asked.
"It's Y/N. They're our neighbor. They moved in a few months ago." Steven answered. "I've never heard of them." Marc comments before Steven quips back with "That's because you two hardly meet anybody.".
"Give me the body for a bit. I want to check on them. That sounded like something big fell over." Steven requests. Marc shrugs and switches out after briefly instructing "Put the body to sleep when you're done.".
Steven un-summons the suit, steps out into the hallway, steps towards your door, and knocks. After a beat, the door opens enough to have your head pop through, but not enough to show the rest of your flat like a fully opened door would. Which he didn't really mind, you always did this whenever he or anyone would knock. "Hello." Steven greets you with a little smile.
You look worried at seeing him in front of you. "I heard a pretty loud noise come from your flat. Is everything okay?" Steven asked. "Yeah. I'm so sorry. I knocked over a shelf." you answer. Steven is shocked for a bit, "A shelf? My word. Are you sure you're okay? Do you want me to help you lift it back up?" Steven stresses as he moves to the side to peak into your flat to see how bad the damage is. But you quickly pull back in and tighten the width of the open door to a sliver , making him unable to see the inside with a "No!".
He pulls away, startled at the sudden reaction.
You open the door back up to step out again. "I'm sorry about that." you timidly apologize. "It's fine. I can pick it back up on my own. Thank you for offering to help and for your concern." you say. "There's some blood on your hand." Steven notices. You pull your hand behind your back at the realization. "It's fine. I'll clean it up myself." you blurt out as you go back into your flat with a quick "Good night, Steven." before closing and re-locking the door behind you, all before he can properly react.
"Good night?" Steven repeats back in confusion.
"That was weird." Marc comments, exposing that he had watched the whole thing go down. "Yeah. They... are a bit strange. They don't really come out most of the day." Steven explains. "Why were they up this late?" Jake buds in, having seen it all too. "It's nearly four in the morning and they look wide awake and aren't in any pajamas." Jake adds.
The next time Steven saw you, you were bringing a huge box into your apartment a few days after that night.
"Need help?" he asked. "Sure. It's actually really hard to drag around." you admit. As he picked up the other end of the large, and heavy, box and walked with your pace into your flat you spoke. "I'm sorry about the noise and acting weird a few nights ago. I was just embarrassed from having woken you up." you explain. Steven gently huffs, "No need to apologize. I wasn't asleep anyways. I was pulling an all-nighter like you were." Steven reassures. You look at him for a moment, "Oh right. Yeah. I do that a lot. I do better with work at night." you remark.
You two manage to get the box past some things it would have bumped, into and into the space between the space of your bedroom and living room. That's when he sees that there's no bed there in your bedroom area, glancing at the box to see a depiction of a bed frame.
"Changing furniture?" Steven asks. "Yeah. I already sold my old one." you say. Steven quarks a brow, "When? Have you had to sleep on your sofa-?" he asks as he turns towards your living room area before interrupting himself with a "Woah!".
There in the area, where a coffee table should be, was an authentic-looking coffin. "Quite the decor there." Steven comments with a breathy little chuckle. "Yeah. I like the look it had." you claim.
Looking around your flat for the first time, Steven could see it. It wasn't exactly goth per se, but there was a weirdly somber and antique look to your decor. It had that same attic look that Steven's did, but you had an attic feel of that of an abandoned house that was left for the dust bunnies to call home. Almost haunted house-esk with the draw curtains adding to it all.
"Is someone in there?" Steven jokes, mostly to himself. "No." you stutter out, "But it does still open." you mention as you walk towards it to show him by lifting the lid.
And, wow. It was real. It still had the pale pink padding and even the pillow inside of it, still pristine as ever, ignoring a couple of scratches on the outside wood.
"Impressive. How'd you even get your hands on this?" Steven asked. You thought for a moment, most likely trying to recall the answer to that question. "Some funeral places have spares that never got sold. So they sell them for a much cheaper price." you say.
Steven nodded as he took another look at the coffin.
"Well, it really is a nice touch." Steven complimented. "Thank you." you reply with a sigh.
🩸🩸🩸
Again.
And again.
One alley crawler dead and paled out after another.
Finding the bodies seemed to become a normal accordance for the boys when they were out doing their rounds around the city. Whoever this was at least started to lean the bodies against the wall after doing the deed now so that there wasn't just some corpse in the middle of the alley's street.
He was still finding the people this person 'saved' too. With them saying the same thing each time. Talking about a person in the shadows with a pair of glowing eyes being the only visible thing about them and then having gotten whatever criminal tried their luck yanked away into the said shadows with a scream echoing as the victim ran to safety.
They never see the actual person though. They don't seem to wear a costume like they do. No mask. No suit. Their only identity keeper they have being that of the shadows that exist beyond any light sources. The only sign of it being them is just the animal-like glow of their eyes. And one brutal calling card for those who came to see where they were.
Tonight was different.
Marc heard the sound of gunshots and rushed to the scene. But he found someone running for their life trying to leave already. He grabs a hold of them, thinking it was a person escaping a forceful mugging till they tried to aim a gun at him. Thankfully, he manages to subdue them.
"That thing tried to get me!" they shouted frantically as they attempted to get loose. "You gotta let me go, man. I don't want to be another body found around here." they beg.
"They tried robbing someone." a voice rings through.
Marc, and also the person he was holding down, looked towards where it came from. He notices the eyes first, with their white pearly glow surrounded by the rest of their shadowy form. The eyes almost looked like the system when they wore their suits, though it was dimmer, just enough to pierce through the darkness, and looked more like the glow was coming from the irises than the whole eye.
"I stopped them before they could pounce. This one was holding more firepower than most. I didn't want to have to risk it." the voice spoke again.
It felt a little haunting. The glow was almost disarming somehow, and their voice was calm and collected as it naturally echoed through the walls of the buildings, and sounding almost familiar. Marc stood there just staring at them till the person he was holding started thrashing harder in his hold, "Let me go, that thing's going to fucking kill me! I swear to god!" they pleaded.
"You're in his court now. You aren't my issue anymore." the silhouette says looking towards the person from where they were before looking back up at Marc.
"Sorry about me leaving my actual catches around." the silhouette apologizes. "I have nowhere to put them." they add as an explanation.
"Why kill them?" Marc questioned, speaking before really thinking. "You kill some of yours don't you, Moonknight? I don't see why you're judging me." the silhouette remarks. "I meant in the way that you do. I just kill them and leave them. You do... something to them." Marc speaks, hesitating for a second at the latter end.
The silhouette stays silent for a second seemingly striking their eyebrow from the way their eyes move. "I have reasons to do it that you probably wouldn't like to hear." they say. "We're doing the same work either way. My method is just more intense than yours tends to be." they comment before slipping back and disappearing into the shadows.
Marc calls out a "Wait!" but gets nothing in return.
He's just left alone with a scared shitless would-have-been mugger and more questions.
🩸🩸🩸
"Hey!" Steven calls out as he does a brief jog over to you in the hallway. "About time I catch you out in the day." Steven jokes. "Oh. Hello, Steven. Yeah. I needed to run some errands." you say, giving an explanation for the rare occurrence. "Good thing you've come back. It's been overcast all day and would rain at any minute." Steven comments.
"Anyways. I knocked on your door yesterday but you didn't come to the door at all." Steven mentions. "Oh. Really? I'm sorry. I'm usually asleep in the day because of my all-nighters." you claim.
"Really? You've got to be the hardest sleeper then. You're like the dead in there. I knocked hard for a while." Steven explains. "So I've been told." you nervously laugh. "You must be real tired if you usually sleep in the day then," he comments. "Yeah. But I have to deal with it." you say.
"What did you need?" you ask.
"Oh. Nothing from me. I was told to tell you, by the landlord, that there would be a check of the fire alarm system next week and that some might go off." Steven explains. "They tried to knock on your door the day before I knocked, but I guess you were asleep." Steven says. "Yeah. I probably was." you reply, "I'll send them an e-mail or something telling them about my sleep schedule." you mutter to yourself.
"Well, nice running into you. Go get yourself some rest." Steven says as he bids you goodbye by patting your shoulder. "Be sure to wrap yourself in something warm too. You're a bit cold." he adds.
#moon knight x reader#moonknight x reader#moon knight#moonknight#steven grant#steven grant x reader#marc spector#marc spector x reader#jake lockley#vampire reader#gender neutral reader#long shot#vampire!reader
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This may be an out-there one but stick with me for a sec! I remember Leona going off to Jamil about how Kalim’s best asset is that he’s friendly and he knows how to use that to sway people whether he knows it or not. With that in mind, may we see Kalim’s magical charms work on Maleficia?
Consider this interaction as a part 2 to this one! They just happen to flow together really well.
P.S. For no reason at all, you should totally go read Jade's School Uniform vignette :))
Family means Nobody is Left Behind or Forgotten.
A single spot of sunshine lit up all of Diasomnia's dank, gloomy lounge.
Kalim, a gargantuan smile plastered on his face, was seated at a table, playfully swinging his legs back and forth. He had with him a portable stove and a tea set, both ridiculously fine and expensive. His friend Silver would soon be there, and the two would delight in sharing an afternoon snack and catching up on one another's lives.
I wonder when he’ll get here! Kalim thought, angling his head toward the doors that spilled into the room. He said he was meeting up with his dad first, so maybe they’ll come together?
From a corridor came faint voices, low and calm, like lost souls afraid to startle their own shadows. The shapes of two people extended along a stony wall, green candlelight haloing them as they approached. Their forms steadily grew larger and larger until they had, at last, consumed all light.
"Silver?" Kalim called as he hopped out of his chair.
A pair entered the lounge, chasing away the sun in favor of the stars. Cloaked in black and pale-faced, inhuman horns protruding from their heads, they heralded in the night and bad dreams like the monsters from under one’s bed.
Kalim greeted them with cheer anyway.
“It’s you, Malleus!! You’re with your family today, huh?” he cried out, excitedly waving at the duo. “Didn’t think I’d run into you. Usually you’re so hard to find for meetings!"
“Asim. I had not expected to encounter you myself.” The corner of the prince's mouth lifted into a slight smirk. "Perhaps you've not looked hard enough."
"Gahahah! I'll try harder next time then!"
“Who might this be, Malleus?”
“Excuse me.” His eyes slid to the woman beside him as gestured toward Kalim. “Grandmother, I give you Kalim Al-Asim, a fellow dorm leader. Asim, my grandmother, and current queen of Briar Valley.”
“Your grandma?!” Kalim’s exclamation echoed off the cavernous walls. There was no effort to conceal his shock, not in tone nor in face. “Whoa, I never would have known…! I thought she was your sister or something! You look a lot alike.”
Maleficia chuckled darkly. “We fae mature quite differently than humans. Our true age rarely shows.”
“So you look a lot younger than you actually are? That’s so cool!” Kalim laughed, oblivious to his own brashness as he ran his mouth. “There’s someone in my year level that’s kind of like that too. Have you met Riddle? He looks small but he’s actually super smart and responsible! I really look up to him!”
Maleficia nodded as she patiently listened in.
Next to her, Malleus slowly surveyed the room, then allowed his gaze to drift back to Kalim. “If I may ask, where have your own relatives, Asim? Were they not to accompany you today?"
“Oh, that!! Only dad could make it this year. He had to take an important business call, so he said go hang out with some friends and he’ll catch up with me later!”
Kalim indicated the canister beside his tea making supplies. “He brought back a new blend from one of his trading partners. It’s a rare tea made with petals and buds from the Queendom of Roses and Briar Valley. That’s where Silver’s from, so I wanted to share it with him!”
“A tea made in part with plants from the Briar Valley, you say…” Malleus cradled his chin in one hand. “Most intriguing. Our kingdom is a small, isolated one. It is not often that our culture is able to merge with that of another."
“The Queendom of Roses is the country east of our continent,” Maleficia said sagely. "It is not only known for its roses, but all kinds of flowers that blossom in the springtime. Being that our Briar Valley is more northward, our flora tends to be much hardier than that of the Queendom."
"That means your flowers and theirs are different somehow, right? It's neat how someone thought to bring roses from two completely different places together!" Kalim grinned widely. "It's like going to a feast where each guest brings a dish from their culture so everyone can have a taste of where they come from.”
Maleficia stared at the young man, her expression indiscernable.
“Oh yeah, if you guys are interested in it, you can try some!” Kalim offered.
Malleus cocked his head. "I believe you stated that your intention was to share the tea with Silver?"
"Don't be shy! It's my treat, and there's plenty to go around! I'll go and brew it. Take a seat while you wait!"
“Hmm, if you are offering… I suppose it would be rude of us to refuse your thoughtful invitation. Grandmother?”
“No objections.”
The Draconias slunk to the table and sat, their lithe forms melded with the quilted leather chairs. They looked right at home with their refined posture, commanding the lounge from their thrones without so much as lifting a finger.
Kalim appeared like nothing more than an attendant in the powerful presence of royalty, buzzing about and fiddling with various tools as he set to making the tea.
Removing the lid off of his kettle, he poured in enough water to fill most of the vessel up. Kalim set it upon the portable stove and cranked the heat up. A soft electric hum started, and the flat disc upon which the kettle sat slowly warmed.
“What a strange device," Malleus mused, his brows creasing at the various dials and settings on the stove. "Would it not be more efficient to prepare the tea with magic? A single puff of fire breath would also suffice to hasten the tea."
"Probably! But you two are my guests. It's my job to feed you and make sure you're enjoying yourselves! This is my way of doing that."
As he talked, Kalim kept his hands in motion. He popped the cap off of his cannister, scooping out unassuming mounds of dried leaves and flowers and letting them fall into each teacup. First, the queen's, then Malleus's, and himself last.
"In my home country, guests are always served before the host. It's to welcome people into our homes. 'You're my friend, and I respect you. I want to honor you with food and drink, to treat you like you're a member of my family.' That's the feeling behind it!"
“I see. So this is the hospitality that comes specifically from the Scalding Sands.” A small smile formed on Malleus’s lips. “I do recall similar kindness from my trip to Silk City. The people of the Scalding Sands are very friendly and warm, much like the sun.”
“The times have certainly changed,” Maleficia remarked. “Back in my day, the children of man were not quite so open-minded. To invite fae to any gathering was to invite danger—such was the common sentiment.”
“Ahhh, that’s too bad. Being left out of a party never feels good!” Kalim let a rare frown appear. “I guess I never realized how lucky I am to live in a time where all kinds of people can be friends.”
The kettle rattled on the stove, a high-pitched whistle erupting from its spout. He swiftly removed it by the handle, and set to pouring hot clear liquid into Maleficia’s cup, then Malleus’s, and his own. Curtains of steam rose up, hiding his features as he chewed on his thoughts.
“Silk City wasn’t always as big as it is now,” Kalim finally said. “My ancestors found a way to use the waterways for trade. It connected us to new information, goods, and people. Then over time, the population grew into the big community we know today.
“Things changed a lot! I’m thankful that they did, because that means all of us can experience so much more together, like this tea. The world really opened up to us.”
The leaves and rosebuds started to unfurl, their colors and flavors seeping into the hot water. A subtly sweet, mellow scent wafted up, filling the lounge with a flowery perfume.
“Indeed, it has.” Maleficia agreed. “Our Briar Valley is set in its ways, yet the world around it seems to constantly shift. I did not think I would live to see the day a child of man so fearlessly entertains me for tea myself—but here we are, fae and human, on equal terms.”
She reached over and squeezed Malleus’s hand. He laid another over hers and smiled back. There was something sad and haunting in their eyes, a mutual understanding of something far darker than their words would allow.
“Yeah, it’s great that we can do stuff like this without worrying anymore! Speaking of, I think the tea’s about done brewing. One last final touch…”
Kalim picked up his entire sugar pot and inverted it over Maleficia’s cup. Several cubes tumbled out and splashed into the beverage. The typically composed queen startled at the sugar and tea concoction (especially when Kalim produced another sugar pot and proceeded to do the same to Malleus’s cup).
“Is this… customary?” Maleficia carefully inquired.
“No, we’d usually add more! Luxurious tea is sweet tea!!” Kalim responded, totally oblivious to her shock. “I thought I’d just be serving Silver today though, so I bought way less sugar than I usually do. I hope it’s still to your liking though!”
“Ah, this style of tea would be the same kind I was served in Silk City. The… exceedingly sweet kind,” Malleus said warily. He spoke no more, but the warning had already made itself evident.
“… I understand. This dish is an integral part of your culture.” Maleficia lifted her cup with the grace and elegance befitting of a queen. “I shall partake in your saccharine fare… Asim, was it?”
“Yup, that’s me! Kalim Al-Asim.”
“Fufu. I will remember your name and face, Kalim Al-Asim. Of that, you can be certain. After all, I had the opportunity to hear many interesting things from you. It would not do to forget such an important individual—and a beloved companion to my Malleus.”
She swallowed her overly sugared tea without flinching. It was strong, peppered with floral notes—two adjacent springtimes at the same threshold. To one side, the Queendom with a sweet medley of rainbow flowers clustered around its roses. To the other, the once great Briar Country, its rosen blooms shrouded by bitter bramble.
So different, yet still meeting in the middle. Humans and fae, reconciling under the same sun.
“How is it?”
Maleficia slowly lowered the cup from her lips. They ached from the sugar in a single sip, yet she was satisfied all the same.
“It was delicious.”
#twst#twisted wonderland#Kalim Al-Asim#twst imagines#Malleus Draconia#twst interactions#twst scenarios#twisted wonderland interactions#twisted wonderland scenarios#twisted wonderland imagines#disney twisted wonderland#Maleficia Draconia#NRC Family Day
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Hello there, this totally isn't the mod of heavyweponguy. But if it's not too much trouble, could you do a heavymedic?
Also, I love your writing
[Thank you for this request stranger that can be @heavyweponguy Hope you enjoy this story!💀✨️]]
Red duo
◇ TF2 Heavy [x]and Medic [Come on. You know what]
◇ some blood and slight gore description
◇ includs Archimedes❗️
"And zhis is how I lost my medical licence!" Medic laughed after ending his repetitive story he was always proud to say.
Heavy laughed as always. Even if he heard Medic's story of how he stole a patients skeleton. He heard it many times, and yet every time, it was entertaining and fun to listen to. Today, Heavy was helping Medic in his workshop, bringing boxes with new animal organs, like zebras lungs or horses hearts. Finally, he picked up a long package, ready to put it into the freezer, but Medic stopped him.
"Ah! Not zhis one. Can you put it on my operation table?"
Without a word, Heavy put a light, wierd, shaped bag on the table, noticing excitement on the doctor's face. When he was opening a package, he looked like a small boy opening his present from Santa on Christmas. But when Medoc revealed what was inside, Heavy's face was in a state of small shock. Inside the bad was the whole body, but it was missing a head.
"Doctor, what is this?" Heavy asked.
"Vell, do you remember zhat team ve vere fightin' with? Vhat was zheir name? Classic, I think. I don't remember really" Medic answered while looking back at his reflection in bonesaw.
"I see. And who body is this?"
"It's Greg's! I couldn't just leave it like zhat! I put my most valuable organs in him after all. It would be a shame to let them go to vaste. Besides, I vas lucky. His body vas parciatly burned to crips!"
Heavy didn't answer to that. Meanwhile, Medic stabbed his bonesaw in TFC Scout's chest, ready to find his missing parts.
"So why is Heavy here?" Heavy asked. On those words, Medic turned around to him as if he had just asked the obvious question.
"To entertain me, of course. I got used to operating on patients who are vel, awake, and vorking in complete silence is boring for me. I vanted to ask Engineer to assist me but he said he didn't have time so that's why I asked you. Here, hold this"
Medic gave Heavy his bonesaw.
"So....what exactly doctor wants to 'regain' back from him?"
"I thought you'll never ask!" Medic's face brightened visibly when he heard the question, as if he was waiting for it to be asked.
"Beside my three baboon uteruses, one kidney, twelve centimetres of cow's intestine. I also put small brain in his left leg. Unfortunately, it was burned, so I can't really bring it back to life again"
"And why is he missing his head? Was there no brain inside too? I wouldn't be surprised"
Medic giggled at Heavy's joke before continuing his work.
"Oh no. His brain simply melted like butter while Pyro was burning him. I tried to make something out of it, but unfortunately, nothing vorked. What a shame- Archimedes no! Give it back!" Medic scouted at his dove, who took peace of liver and flew on lamp, holding it in its beak. Heavy manage to get it back, reaching Archimedes and snatching organ back with his strength.
"Danke! Birds, am I right?" chukle escaped his lips before continuing the operation.
Some time passed, five hours to be precise. Medic was determined to get every last organ he saw in his victims chest, as Heavy was by his side, helping slightly from time to time. Finally, Medic sat down on chair exhausted. Seeing this, Heavy sat down next to him.
"Doctor needs to lay down in his bed"
Medic ignored these words, laying his head over Heavy's shoulder, smirking.
"Nein. I want to stay like zhis" he said, slowly closing his eyes.
"Doctor..."
But it was too late. Medic fell asleep (or probably just acted like he was) in seconds. He was in his comfortable position, laying his head over Heavy's shoulder, refusing to move even an inch. Heavy sighed before closing his eyes, too, knowing that waking his doctor was pointless, so he decided to rest too.
Both of them stayed like that for a while, but later, Heavy woke up again. He looked at the clock, realising how late it is, yet he couldn't just let himself and Medic sleep on chairs. So, Heavy stood up and picked up Medic, and walked to their shared room.
Finally, he arrived at the big room, laying Medic on bed, and Heavy himself layed down next to him. Why? Medic is known to sleepwalk, so Heavy to prevent this sleeps with him, holding him down. Last time he wasn't, Scout screamed because he was standing above his bed with the übersaw and wide crazy smile. Heavy glanced at the doctor's face before closing his eyes, this time falling asleep quickly. Both of them hold each other close, enjoying this comfortable time together...
[The end! Hope you like it! Tell me in comments what do you think!💀🌌]
#tf2#team fortress 2#team fortress two#tf2 story#tf2 fanfiction#tf2 fanfic#tf2 medic#tf2 heavy#tf2 medic x heavy#tf2 heavy x medic#tf2 heavymedic#tf2 red oktoberfest#red octoberfest#tf2 archimedes
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╰ ⋆ 𝐇𝐘𝐏𝐄 𝐁𝐎𝐘 ଓ.° ╮
𓄹 ⌗ 031. ⠀⠀⠀⠀flowers
CONTENT. profanity
030 | MASTERLIST | 032
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⠀⠀⠀⠀“hey, i’ll be back.” mae shuts off her phone as she stares up from her phone and glances to the door. her two vice-captains glance at her after picking up their bags to head out, shohei raising a brow in question, “where you going?”
“going to see a friend, it’ll be quick. don’t worry about me.” a smile flutters on her lips, hand out in a wave as she makes her way out the door. shohei sends a thumbs up, nodding. “‘kay, stay safe.”
“hey, where are you?” is the first thing mae says after clicking the button to call kaiser, she moves around and tries to navigate through the crowd just to find him.
“the front— hey! i see you, look to your left.” kaiser spots her almost immediately, hand up to have and catch her attention when mae looks his direction. a soft smile places on her lips as she makes her way to him and ending the call to talk personally. “what are you doing here?”
“what? am i not allowed to watch my favourite girl dance?” kaiser scoffs teasingly, smirking and raising a suggestive brow. mae is baffled, crossing her arms and displaying the same teasing manner and energy as him. “really? your favourite girl?”
kaiser shrugs, “it’s fine if you don’t want to be—“
“mae!”
“bachira! isagi? wait, why are like a bunch of football players here?” their conversation is cut off when a certain brunette duo-haired football player basically tackled hugs mae from behind, almost losing her balance. kaiser’s hand even goes out grab on to her forearm to catch her from falling.
“tch, those shits.” kaiser basically hisses, eye twitching at the sight of multiple familiar faces. the dancer basically laughs, “play nice.”
“you were so cool out there!” bachira screams out as multiple football players surround mae, basically causing kaiser to step back and get pushed out of the circle they created, hugging them one by one.
“we all came to cheer you on!” isagi and many others put their hands out to her and shows mae the various bouquets of flowers from each one of them. “this’ll be the only time ego lets us out, so it’s also an advance gift for winning finals.”
“this is too much, i’ll really need to share this with the team.” mae is overwhelmed, her arms barely being able to carry all the flowers they were giving her to the point that she had to stuff some of them in her dance bag.
‘she looks happy.’ kaiser watches her interact genuinely with the rest of the blue lock players that came to watch her perform like him, a bit irritated and defeated at the sight.
“hey, just wondering.” the german watches aiku garner mae’s attention, chuckling to himself when the irritation is evident on her face when she looks at the infamous playboy. “what do you want?”
“harsh.” hand over his chest and feigns hurt, “do you have anne’s new number by any chance?” mae stares at aiku dumbfounded, narrow her eyes at him and blinking multiple times. “what makes you think i’d even give it to you?”
“touché.” sighing in defeat and a shrug, aiku accepts her rejection. isagi rolls his eyes and crosses his arms over each other. “told you she hates you!” mae laughs at his words, a hand covering her mouth before she cackles a bit too loudly
“i got you something too.” kaiser’s hand grazes mae’s forearm as he approaches her from behind. “hm?” with a hum mae glances behind her, swearing her heart might’ve skipped a beat at the close proximity of him when she notices her face was so close to his.
“a rose to congratulate your victory.” the space between them is invaded by a singular blue rose— one that mae swore was sparkling and glittering in the light like magic. the sight of it took her breath away, “danke, it’s beautiful.”
watching her smile at it was more than enough for kaiser, with her momentary soft touch when she takes hold of the rose. she brings its petals close to her nose, smelling the sweet and warm scent.
“make sure you actually keep this one.” kaiser teases her and smirks when she blushes, feeling a bit accused that he’d even think that way. “i will! i swear i won’t give it away.” her reaction makes him softly chuckle, waving his hand and steps back away from mae. “i’m gonna head out then.”
“huh? already—” before she could take a step towards him to question further, her view is suddenly blocked by bachira urging her back to the group. “mae! let’s take a photo!”
“sure.” conflicted and perplexed there was nothing else she could say nor do, her body against her will was being turned around back to the rest of the group for a photo. the moment that she looked back, the strands of gold and garnished royal blues vanished from her sight.
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𝐂𝐀𝐋𝐋 𝐌𝐘 𝐏𝐇𝐎𝐍𝐄 𝐑𝐈𝐆𝐇𝐓 𝐍𝐎𝐖 !
⠀⠀⠀⠀→ mae receives lots of flowers and gifts after her performances from fans often, though sometimes she gives them to her team because it takes up space in her home.
⠀⠀⠀⠀→ she loves collecting flowers and drying them to display.
⠀⠀⠀⠀→ after mae took aiku’s flowers she gave them to a fan.
REBLOGS ARE APPRECIATED !
© daiseukiis 2025. all rights reserved. do not repost, modify, translate without permission. do not claim work or layout as yours.
#hype boy smau !#༊*·˚ hype boy !#© daiseukiis#༊*·˚ THE LOVE SONG PLAYLIST#kaiser#Michael#Michael kaiser#blue lock#bllk#kaiser x you#kaiser x reader#Michael kaiser x you#Michael kaiser x reader#blue lock x you#blue lock x reader#bllk x you#bllk x reader#kaiser smau#Michael kaiser smau#blue lock smau#bllk smut#blue lock smut#kaiser smut#michael kaiser smut#blue lock Michael kaiser#bllk Michael kaiser#blue lock kaiser
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Triple Summit 🪖🔪
(Captain Medic AU one shot)
(Ships: MedicSpy / DemoSpy / DemoMedic / EngieMedic)
v This song heavily inspired the first part of this fic so I gotta shout it out v
(TW/CW: NSFW / Suggestive / poly fortress / toxic power imbalance / illegal drug dealing / hard drug abuse)
Location: RED base / Medic’s office / Engie’s workshop
Spy lightly knocked on the door to the captain’s office. Patiently waiting for him to answer.
“I am occupied at the moment!“ Medic shouted from the other side. Spy let out a frustrated sigh while shoving both hands into his pockets.
“It’s me! Open up. I have something for you.” Spy sternly spoke up.
“Come by later Spy, I’m busy!” Medic shouted back. Demoman could be heard quietly snickering the room as well. Spy grew even more suspicious, he crouched down to hold his ear up to the door. The Frenchman grumbled and rummaged through one of his inner coat pockets. He pulled out a small metal lock pick, crouching down to immediately start picking it open. Medic and Demoman both loudly yelped and flinched as the determined man slammed open the office door. Spy’s angry demeanor soon dwindled. Pleasantly surprised at the scandalous sight in front him. Demoman was sat in the captain’s desk chair, legs spread apart. Medic was left in an even more compromising position. The doctor was shirtless, crouched down with his knees to the tile floor. Both hands resting casually on the Scotsman’s thighs. Spy quickly stepped inside of the office and the shut the door behind him. Latching the lock before taking a few steps closer to the entangled duo.
“Yes, very busy I see.” Spy teasingly stated. Medic let out a flustered groan while quickly standing back up on both feet. Anxiously adjusting his glasses before speaking.
“What did you want?” Medic cattily asked. Demoman shyly rubbed the back of his neck, remaining bashfully silent. Spy grumbled and reached up to grab at the captain’s chin.
“Be nice. I came to play delivery man for you.” Spy sternly teased. Trailing his hand back down into his coat pocket to pull out an unmarked pill bottle. Full of brightly colored ecstasy tablets. Medic’s expression instantly lit up.
“Oh, danke.” Medic eagerly said, reaching up to grab at the pill bottle. Spy quickly swiped the bottle away from the captain’s reach.
“Not so fast. I want in on this…private summit of yours.” Spy crudely proposed. Tilting his head to lovingly gaze over at Demoman. His eyes slowly trailed back to the doctor stood before him. Leaving the Scotsman with a flustered, astonished expression. Medic rose an eyebrow, taking a few moments to genuinely consider his spontaneous offer.
“I wouldn’t mind.” Demo piped up with an eager shrug. Comfortably leaning back into the captain’s desk chair.
“Sure, why not?” Medic flirtatiously obliged. Spy smirked while beginning to unscrew the pill bottle’s cap open. Carefully shaking out two brightly colored pills into his palm before setting the bottle down onto the captain’s desk. Demoman silently gazed over at the bottle of suspicious and colorful looking pills. Witnessing Spy grab at the doctor’s chin. Forcefully opening up his jaw with his gloved fingers, placing one pill onto the doctor’s tongue. Medic let out a startled groan. Demoman’s eye widened at the salacious scene unfolding out in front of him. Anxiously fidgeting in his seat while watching Medic swallow the pill then start to lewdly suck on two of the Frenchman’s fingers. Spy quickly popped the second pill into his own mouth. Swallowing it whole then immediately diving in for a messy French kiss. Medic desperately groaned, feeling the Frenchman’s fingers trail down to wrap around his throat while they locked lips for a few moments. Demoman drunkenly stared at the long string of saliva ran between both men’s lips as they disconnected. Spy lightly wiped his mouth off with his hand, quickly directing his attention over towards Demoman. The Frenchman took a few steps closer towards the desk chair. Grabbing both of the Scotsman’s shoulders, stabilizing himself as he swiftly flung a leg over him. Carefully sitting into his lap while kissing at his neck. Medic chuckled and took a step closer towards Demoman as well. The doctor gently took off the Scotman’s hat and lightly tossed it over onto his desk. Leaning down to plant a kiss on Demoman’s forehead, then a few down his cheek. Both of the support duo began excitedly stripping the Scotsman of his clothes. Spy’s hands were focused on undoing the man’s tie, meanwhile Medic skillfully plucked each button off of Demoman’s coat. The bubbly Scotsman showered in all of the affection. Bashfully giggling as Medic continued to eagerly work on peeling his over coat off and onto the floor.
⏳
Two full hours had passed. Medic was the quickest to get right back into his uniform. The doctor eerily stood over both of his colleague’s body’s. Both Demoman and Spy were half naked sprawled out on the ground. Covered in a few light bite marks. Demoman had fallen fast asleep on the floor with Spy cradled in his arms. Snoring loudly into the Frenchman’s ear. Spy was left a maskless, disheveled mess. The doctor quickly tapped his boot down on the floor near each of their heads.
“I have somewhere to be. I expect you both gone by the time I get back.” Medic sternly ordered. Frantically staring at the wooden clock on his desk. Spy let out a drawn out tired groan. Completely strung out of his mind with his jaw clenched. Nuzzling into Demoman as he continued to lightly tremble. The side effects of the MDMA always hit Spy more harshly it seemed. In comparison, the experienced doctor had built a bigger tolerance to it. Medic could still somewhat navigate while near the come down of his high. However, this didn’t stop the doctor from feeling his heart continue to anxiously race. The captain took a deep breath, straightened out his hat and quickly made his way out the door. He flicked the lights off, then quickly shut the door to his office. Leaving both of his inferior’s sprawled out on his office’s icy, tile floor. Medic frantically stormed down the hallway, holding his hand above his racing heart as he walked. Lightly massaging his chest to hopefully relieve some of the discomfort. Tiredly stumbling into the Engineer’s workshop. The Texan perked up and quickly stood up from his desk. Noticing the doctor’s odd, fatigued behavior.
“You alright doc? Looks like you just ran a few miles.” Engie worriedly asked. Medic compeltly ignored him.
“Ja. What’s the status on that robot?” Medic sternly brushed off. Getting right to business in an oddly frantic tone. Engineer let out a frustrated sigh. Taking his hat off and quickly tossing it onto a wooden coat rack nearby.
“Should be here soon. They’re on the way back with it now.” Engie firmly answered. Medic deviously smirked, lazily wrapping his arms around the Texan’s shoulders. Pulling the shorter man in for a hug, slowly caressing the top his head. Engineer let out a startled and nervous groan.
“This is going to be a real treat mein friend!” Medic excitedly said. Engineer anxiously froze in place as the captain smothered him in a warm embrace. Hearing the doctor’s concerning heartbeat race up against his ear.
“Well…I am lookin’ forward to dissecting this thing.” Engie shyly replied. Medic deviously chuckled. Continuing to smother the shorter man, forcibly resting his head into the crook of his shoulder. Affectionately snuggling him close. Engineer let out a small agitated groan, allowing the captain to do as he pleased out of pure fear.
#cw drugs#cw dark themes#suggestive#tf2#team fortress 2#tf2 medic#tf2 demoman#tf2 spy#tf2 engineer#bomb voyage#gentlesurgery#jaegerbombs#demospy#demomedic#spymedic#medicspy#science party#engiemedic#old man yaoi#tf2 loadout#tf2 au#tf2 ocs#oc lore#sorry this is long af#i love toxic yaoi#I’m kinda obsessed with these oc’s atm…#sorry if this sucks I’m not used to writing so many mercs at once#I love toxic villain medic
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A (somewhat) canonical retelling of Emma Bloom’s backstory with a few small renditions of my own choosing (:
“Hurry up Julia! Mother will be cross if we’re late for supper.” 10 year old Emma Bloom chastised her 6 year old younger sister, the pair marching swiftly down the cobblestone alleyway to their home.
“Yeah, yeah. You know mother will be cross no matter when we come back.” Julia grumbled in return, stooping down to pet yet another skinny, grimy alley cat. Emma let out a puff of air, knowing the other girl was right. Their mother was always finding reasons to be aggravated with the girls whether those reasons were just or not.
The duo trundled on, schoolbooks in Julia’s arms, a fish for supper in Emma’s, the elder glaring daggers at passersby who dared risk so much as a glance towards her or her younger sister. The Bloom family did not live in the nicest part of Cornwall, England that was for sure. It wasn’t the slums but it wasn’t far off in Emma’s humble opinion. The walk through the alleyway was dark and dank, even in the middle of the day, and there wasn’t a street corner in England that wasn’t occupied by at least a few unsavory types. At least that’s what her mother said any time she was forced to leave the house.
Even at the ripe age of 10 Emma understood what people, strange men especially, were capable of and the older girl took care to keep an eye on Julia for as much as they quarreled, they were still siblings after all, she did not want the younger girl to know such horrors of the world so soon.
“Do you think mum made the biscuits she said she would this morning?” The 6 year old jogged to catch up, hope filling her big green eyes. The siblings were practically identical with their sandy blonde locks, pale skin, and the most striking green eyes anyone had ever seen. The 2 little girls were undoubtedly beautiful, and that was unfortunately one of the most dangerous things a girl could be.
“Maybe.” Emma mumbled in reply, knowing she hadn’t. Their mother was always happy to see the girls go in the morning and get out of her hair but as soon as they returned Mary Bloom could be found in yet another foul mood having forgotten whatever empty promise she had made her daughters this time. The girls’ father, Michael Bloom, labored at a factory job up to 11 hours a day depending on the week and the unemployment rate, and was simply too exhausted and frustrated upon his return home to care about the welfare of his 2 children, preferring to leave the child rearing to the women folk.
“I suppose it’s fish stew again for supper?” Julia wrinkled her nose in disgust. She hated fish stew. They both did and they were quite certain their parents did as well. But, it was cheap and it was better than cabbage soup, another staple meal in their home.
“Yes. But the fishmonger overcharged us last time and made up the difference today so I had a little extra left over that mother needn’t know about.” Emma gave her sister a sly smirk and the 6 year old’s face lit up like Christmas had come early this year.
“Sherbet fountain?”
“One for each of us after supper.” Emma chuckled at the younger girl’s squeal of delight at the prospect of candy.
Entering their quaint little apartment home the pair took care to wipe the mud from their feet and leave their boots by the door lest they track in dirt and stomp around like elephants according to their mother. As Julia went off to leave her school things in the girls shared bedroom Emma headed into the kitchen to deposit the paper wrapped fish.
“Took the 2 of you long enough. That fish will have gone off by the time you’re done lallygagging about.” Mary Bloom snipped as she stomped her way through the miniature kitchen, drying her hands on a wet towel and loudly slamming the stew pot down on the stove.
“Apologies mother. We’ll be quicker tomorrow.” Emma had fast learned to just tell her mother what she wanted to hear and let the insults roll off her back no matter how much she ached to throw her own right back. Instead, she bit her tongue and busied her hands deboning the fish, willing herself not to earn a slap tonight. She couldn’t very well share sweets with Julia is she was cowering beneath her father’s belt.
Mary shot a disgruntled look at her daughter’s back, wanting her to take the bait and bite back effectively starting an argument and giving her a reason to take out her frustration on the younger girl. Nevertheless, Emma kept her temper in check, surprisingly enough as she was well known for her hot headedness, and got on with her supper duties as Julia started her homework in their bedroom.
Emma was in school as well but as the eldest child of a low income household she often had other duties to uphold at home that kept her from her studies. That being said she wasn’t stupid. Emma Bloom was actually rather intelligent considering both her age and unfortunate upbringing. Despite her limited time in the classroom she rather enjoyed school and learning new things, even if the teachers were boring and older than dirt and the actions of the other children frequently caused her to end up with sore knuckles and her own ruler crudely marked with her name.
Once she understood the letters reading and writing came naturally. Arithmetic was… less of a strong suit but Emma still tried. Julia struggled more with school and throughly disliked it but there wasn’t much else a 6 year old girl was good for.
Just as Mary and Emma were finishing up supper Michael Bloom found his way home and into his chair at the head of the table without a word to any of his family. Julia came skipping eagerly in a moment later, powder blue dress swishing about her knees and a great big smile on her chubby baby face.
“Mother did you make the biscuits you talked about this morning?” The little girl asked hopefully, bouncing on her heels.
“No. Perhaps if the 2 of you had been back on time then I would have gotten around to it.” Emma knew this wasn’t true of course and didn’t make a lick of sense either. Her mother had plenty of down time while Julia was in school and Emma was either in school herself or running errands at their mother’s request. Nonetheless, Mary’s snide remark left Julia unphased, the younger girl suppressing a grin when her older sister winked at her and hid a little smile of her own, the exchange going unnoticed by their parents.
Dinner mostly consisted of Mary attempting to engage Michael in small talk about how each of their day’s had been and Michael simply grunting as a response to anything she said. The girls kept silent, making pointed glances at each other every time their mother said something very unladylike about a neighbor and trying very hard not to gag on the spice less, watery stew.
“Could we go to the beach on Saturday father?” Julia piped up, feet swinging eagerly underneath the table.
“It’s meant to rain on Saturday.” Michael responded dismissively, never even bothering to look up from chewing the leathery fish chunks.
“Even better. More puddles to jump in and the waves always look so big when it rains.”
“We’ll all catch our death out in that. You especially jumping around in the water or getting swept away in a rip tide.” Mary joined in, siding with her husband as normal.
“I have to collect the eggs and the milk from the grocer’s on Saturday. She could come with me and we could take the long way around through the cove on the walk back.” Emma suggested, shrugging her shoulders nonchalantly and hoping to appease both her parents and younger sister.
“Fine. But you are responsible for her Emma. If she comes back and gets us all ill or gets swept into the current it’s on you. You hear me?” Mary raved, pointing a long, crooked finger in her eldest daughter’s face. Emma nodded, sneaking a wink at Julia who could barely contain her excitement. Who knew what kind of mischief the pair could get into with an entire afternoon devoid of adult supervision.
After supper Michael Bloom retired to the sitting area to read the daily newspaper and nurse a cup of cheap brandy. The girls scurried off to their room after finishing their kitchen duties, excited by the prospect of a rare candy treat. It wasn’t often they had anything sweet in the house, much less store bought candy that they could not afford.
Sherbert Fountains were still on the cheaper side but neither girl cared, savoring the sweet, sour, lip puckering taste of the treat as they sat facing each other on their respective beds giggling and dusting the lemon flavored powder all across the bedsheets.
“Perhaps Saturday we can go by that little sweets shop by the school. It’s always so crowded when we’re out of class. It’ll be easy to knick something.” Emma smirked wickedly, licking the sticky candy from her lips.
“Emma! That’s naughty!” Julia gasped, giggling even harder. “Do you think they have chocolate?” The other girl may pretend to be the well behaved one of the pair but in reality she was just as mischievous as her older counterpart. Emma grinned and assured her they did in fact have a plentiful supply of the younger girl’s all time favorite treat.
“Now, you’ve had your sweets. Go and brush your teeth so that they don’t rot out of your head.” Emma took both empty wrappers and stuffed them into a drawer to dispose of later in a trash can far, far away from the house.
“Ugh. You’re not mum Emma. You can’t always boss me around.” Julia pouted.
“Well by all means let them fall out. You’ll never be able to eat sweets again. It’ll be mash and prunes for the rest of your life.” That and a look that rivaled their uptight mother’s when the girls were misbehaving were enough to get Julia moving, albeit grumbling about nasty prunes as she went.
* * *
She was trapped. There was nowhere to go that the flames did not lick at her clothes, her skin, her hair, anything their devilish fingers could cling to they did. It was her own home she found herself trapped in, every door and window barred by the hellish fire quickly consuming everything in its path.
The wooden panels groaned overhead and the walls crashed in around her as the fire moved ever closer to the little girl trapped in the center of it all. Emma was scared, so scared that all she could do was cower on the floor with her head buried in her knees and cry as the overwhelming heat kept creeping closer, growing hotter as the seconds passed, scorching her soft skin.
A loud, piercing scream filled her head and shook the house around her, ripping her awake but not out of the nightmare, the blazing heat still surrounding her on all sides and the bright orange flames dancing around her body casting harsh shadows across the darkened room. The scream had come from Julia who had been awoken by the immense heat and acrid scent of burning wool to the sight of a raging fire engulfing her sister’s bed with her still in it.
For a long moment Emma was too shocked to move, her breaths coming fast and ragged as she stared blankly at the ceiling. However, as soon as she was lucid enough to register what was happening the older girl leapt from the bed and raced to the other side of the room where Julia was crouched, sobbing. Their parents raced into the room at the sound of the girls’ distress, Mary gathering them both into her arms and ushering them into a safer part of the house while Michael ran to fetch water and put it out.
The children huddled together, Julia still crying and clinging to a shell shocked, ash covered Emma while their parents worked to put out the flames. Thankfully, the disaster had remained secluded to the one bed and only burned up the bedsheets and parts of the mattress, the metal frame keeping it from spreading further.
Emma’s clothing had not been quite so lucky, her nightdress scorched along the bottom hem and all up the sides, small blackened holes littered here and there. Though, miraculously, Emma herself appeared to be completely unharmed by the fire that had consumed her only moments ago.
Once the flames had been fully doused and the doors and windows thrown open to to release the smoke, Mary and Michael went in search of an explanation to the strange happenings of their evening.
“Someone want to explain what happened?” Michael Bloom question, bushy black brows furrowing in anger at his 2 children. Julia was the first to offer up an explanation.
“I just woke up and Emma was on fire! It was really scary. I thought the whole house was going to burn up.” The younger girl clutched a beloved doll in her arms for comfort, big green eyes still watery and red from her tears. Michael’s attention immediately redirected itself onto Emma.
“I’m not sure either father. Honest. I was having the most awful dream about being trapped in a burning house. I woke up and the dream was real!” Emma tried to look as innocent and confused as possible which wasn’t at all hard to do since she really was both innocent and extremely confused.
“Well it didn’t just spawn out of thin air now did it?” Michael was growing angry, the muscles in his face scrunching up as his piercing black eyes darted between the 2 girls.
“We really don’t know what happened father. Honest.” Emma’s voice was quiet, childish, her eyes pleading with her father to believe them. If it was even possible Michael Bloom’s face scrunched up even harder as he looked between his scared, smoke smelling children.
“Fine. But you better make sure it does not happen again. Understood?” Both girls nodded furiously, being ushered back to bed by their mother.
“We’ll sort out the bed tomorrow. Tonight you’ll just have to share.” Mary Bloom waited until both Emma and Julia were squished into the single bed before roughly throwing the scratchy quilt over them and leaving without another word.
The window was still open to air out the house and left the girls huddling together for warmth as the late winter wind whisked in and chilled them to the bone. Emma couldn’t help but notice that despite the biting cold and her chattering teeth, underneath the blanket her palms were covered in a sheen of sweat.
* * *
The first occurrence happened on a Wednesday. By Saturday the Bloom family had all but forgotten the little incident and were back to their less than cheery ways.
“Emma watch the bacon. You let it burn again and you’ll be out looking for another switch. Julia get those dolls out of my kitchen floor before someone trips and breaks their neck.” Mary ordered the girls around as she set the breakfast table and handed a cup of coffee to Michael who was, as usual, sat at the head of the table reading the morning news.
“Anything new today darling?” Mary asked sweetly, trying to earn her husband’s favor by getting him talking about his favorite subject, politics.
“Not much really. More people being sacked as the economy plummets so prices are about go up again. A group of disorderly women were spotted at one of the docks smoking and drinking out in broad daylight. These radicals with their short hair and even shorter, harlequin dresses are ruining this good town I tell you. I believed they had put a stop to all of that in the 20’s. Clearly I was wrong! And I know it’s not just Cornwall it’s everywhere. You should hear some of the news coming out of America Mary. It’s downright scandalous the way they flock to parties and speakeasies, cohorting like men. It’s outrageous!” Michael fanned out the newspaper and took a long drag from his pipe, filling the kitchen with yet another layer of smog. Even Mary paused for a moment before answering in her usual practiced, monotone way.
“Yes dear. They are becoming harlots, the lot of them.”
Emma gripped the fork tighter in her hand as she flipped the sizzling bacon, trying hard not to give a retort of her own. She had heard a little bit about the going’s on her father mentioned from adults in town and found the liberal ideas quite fascinating. She would love to chop off her long hair, dress up in those sparkly dresses, and become the very thing her sexist father despised if for no other reason than to spite him.
It all sounded like a grand old time to the 10 year old and perhaps it was simply her rebellious spirit but she couldn’t understand her father’s complete aversion to the changing times. Her mother didn’t help of course. She followed her husband blindly without a single thought of her own it seemed. Emma often wondered why on Earth she had ended up trapped with 2 old crones stuck in the 1800s when even they themselves had barely been alive to see that time period.
It was true Emma had much more of a personality than her mother and a more forward thinking mind than her father. She also favored neither of them physically. While Emma and Julia both had wavy blonde hair and green eyes, Mary and Michael each had dark hair and matching obsidian eyes. They were both thin and gaunt with very harsh features whereas the girls were still chubby with baby fat and had soft, kind faces even when angry. If there hadn’t been records of their births Emma might have thought they weren’t related at all, and she had certainly questioned it a few dozen times. However, she had received one thing that made her unmistakably a Bloom and that was her short, bad temper. A family trait it seemed.
“Would it really be so bad for a girl to cut her hair? It’s not like it won’t grow back.” Emma started, challenging her father who met her hard stare with a lethal one of his own.
“It is the principle of the matter. First they chop off their hair. Then they start wearing trousers, and some have believe it or not. Before you know it women are trying to make their own money and support themselves without need for a husband. It just isn’t natural.” He seethed, puffing on his pipe with a steady pace as he awaited the rebuttal he knew was imminent from his bull headed daughter.
“And so what if they want to live for themselves rather than for a man? Why is a woman not afforded the same luxuries? What makes us weaker, less important, or worth less than a man?” Emma was on a roll now, forgetting the food completely as she took on her father in the heated debate, mother and sister watching nervously in silence.
“Women are made to bear children. They cannot do the work of a man as efficiently. They are smaller, weaker, and emotional.” Michael was quickly growing angry now.
“A good woman can do anything a man can do and she can do it with a screaming baby on her hip. It takes 2 to make a baby father. It isn’t just the woman. I may only be 10 years old but I know just how terrible men can be and in my opinion we would be a lot better off without you.”
Slap.
The stinging hand came down hard across Emma’s face, knocking her into the stove and over the open fire. She instinctively jumped back with a yelp as her arm landed directly on the lit eye. The young girl slowly looked up at her father, a bright red handprint displayed across her pale face, absolute hatred in her watery green eyes.
“I will not hear this nonsense in my own house. If you want to become one of those heathens then you will do so when you no longer live under my roof and eat my food. Until then you will act like a proper, respectable young lady and treat the men providing for your ungrateful little self with a little more respect. Is that understood girl?” Michael’s voice was calm, quiet, and quivering with barely concealed rage. Emma nodded silently, gently touching her heated cheek where he had hit her.
After Michael had stalked off to another part of the house no one was really in the mood for breakfast. Mary, Emma, and Julia picked at the food, Mary casting malevolent looks at her eldest daughter ever so often but not wanting to redirect her fury upon herself by stirring the pot.
Emma on the other hand had already redirected her attention elsewhere. When her father had knocked her into the stove the lit fire should have scalded her bare arm when it landed upon the eye, but, just like the night her bed caught fire she was once again left completely unharmed.
That afternoon it did in fact rain, a slow, drizzly rain that seeped into your bones and caused a chill to spread throughout your body even once you were back inside. Emma and Julia took miserably to the streets, the younger still trying to enjoy sloshing through puddles as she had claimed she would but it became immediately obvious that she was quite agitated by her soggy stockings.
The walk into town wasn’t long but even so by the time they made it to the grocer’s both girls were shivering and drenched from head to foot despite their colorful rain slickers. The pair wasted no time collecting all that was on the list, paid the man at the counter, and scurried back into the frigid rain towards the sweets shop, refusing to let the bad weather keep them from their promised treat.
Even despite the wet there was a gaggle of school aged children lingering about the corner shop, a smattering of both boys and girls clinging to their mother’s arm begging for every kind of sweet available. Others were already enjoying their selection outside away from the fray in whatever semi dry spot they could find.
“How are we gonna do this with so many grown ups in the way?” Julia whined, grabbing at Emma’s hand at childish frustration.
“First, we pick out the goods. Choose which sweet you want and meet me back by the door.” The pair split off, perusing all the different candy displays while avoiding the stuff behind the counter knowing it was just a little bit out of reach with the shopkeeper on patrol.
After a full lap through the over crowded store, Julia being forced to squirm through a man’s legs at one point, the duo found their way back to the door to converse amongst themselves again.
“I want to try a Baby Ruth.” Julia whispered eagerly, pointing to a display of colorfully wrapped chocolate bars. They had been all the rage lately, the kids at school often flaunting them in front of their friends like a prized possession.
“Fine. I’ll distract the shop owner. You snatch one and run. Got it?” Julia nodded with excitement, already sidling back towards the unguarded table.
Emma flounced up to the counter, catching the attention of the frazzled looking man trying to keep up with the Saturday hub bub while simultaneously keeping an eye out for naughty children such as themselves trying to steal.
“What do y’got that’s good sir?” Emma questioned loudly, slamming her hand down on the countertop to get his attention and perusing the shelves behind him, simultaneously reaching into her coat pocket with her free hand as if to pull out a handful of coins she did not have.
“Why, everything in my shop is delicious of course. I’ve got Snickers choc full of nuts and caramel, Abba Zabba’s with vanilla taffy and peanut butter, or perhaps you’d fancy a Charleston Chew, named after the dance and full of nougat.” The man prattled on in a booming voice, gesturing to each candy on the shelf.
“Hmm, got anything not chocolate? Tends to go right through me.” Emma clutched at her stomach and made a sour face.
“Of course. There’s Sherbert Fountain, Red Hots if you’re in the mood for a bit o’ spice, Hubba Bubba Bubblegum, all kinds of lolli-“ The man paused, quickly looking past her before beginning to shout. “Hey! Hey you girl! Stop at once!”
Emma spun around just in time to see Julia dart out of the crowded shop as fast as her little legs could carry her. The older girl wasted no time in flashing the handyman a wide, mischievous grin before following suit, the sound of angry shouts fueling her adrenaline and pushing her faster as she and her kid sister fled the scene of their crime.
The pair did not slow until they reached the safety of the beach, tripping and falling into the wet sand when they couldn’t stop giggling.
“Did you see the shop man’s face when he realized I was stealing?” Julia chortled giddily, rolling around in the sand, the drizzling rain still coming down on top of them.
“I really thought his head might pop. He was as red as a tomato! It looked like he was ready to leap over the counter and chase after us.” Emma cackled alongside her.
The sister’s were in tears by the time their giggles had subsided, faces red and clothing ruined by the sand, rain, and sea water, the waves lapping angrily at the shore made more excitable by the bad weather. They had only managed to snag one candy bar but neither complained, splitting it equally and taking the first bite together, moaning at the sweetness of the chocolate melting on their tongues.
“Whoever baby Ruth was she makes delicious candy.” Julia mumbled around a mouthful of chocolate and peanuts.
“Supposedly it was named after an American president’s daughter but a lot of people think it was named after another American baseball player.” Emma shrugged. “We had to do a presentation on the history of candy in school last year.” Julia shrugged back, not really caring about anything other than how it tasted.
After they had finished their sweet treat and were walking along the surf back towards home Julia spoke.
“That night your bed caught fire, you really don’t know what happened?” She peered sideways up at her older sister, big green eyes full of innocent curiosity. Emma just gave a thin lipped shake of her head.
“I really don’t. It was quite strange. And the weirdest part?” She hesitated only a moment, balling her hands into fists and feeling the sweat on her palms making the grocery bags slick and hard to hold. “My hands haven’t stopped burning since.”
* * *
The second occurrence came on Monday night. The same dream of little Emma trapped in the burning house only to wake up once more engulfed in flames. Michael and Mary again confronted their children about these strange happenings, quickly becoming less certain about Emma’s claimed innocence.
“Fires do not just start themselves.” Raged Michael, the veins in his neck bulging as he paced back and forth in front of his eldest daughter. Mary was off applying burn cream to Julia’s scorched fingers where she had tried to reach into the fire to rescue her big sister this time and paid the price.
“I don’t understand it either father! I swear it isn’t me!” Emma cried out desperately, begging her father to listen to her plea.
“Enough lying! Both times this has happened have left you without so much as a mark on you! Your sister is in there crying with 2nd degree burns and still you cannot confess to what you have done!” Michael was growing angrier by the second, spittle flying from his lips as his face drifted from red to purple. Hot tears were sliding down Emma’s cheeks, unsure of how to convince her father it wasn’t her fault.
“Father..” the 10 year old whimpered, curling in on herself and backing into the corner knowing full well what was about to occur.
“Very well. If you insist on refusing to speak the truth perhaps this will loosen your tongue, girl.” Michael was already unfastening the belt around his waist and stepping towards his daughter who turned her body into the wall, bracing for the pain to ensue.
The leather came down hard and loud across the child’s back, thin, cotton nightdress doing nothing to soften the angry blows. Emma gritted her teeth to keep from crying out and not give her father the satisfaction, using the wall for support as she ground her nails into the soft flesh of her palms. Michael gave her 10 sharp blows in the exact same spot each, her face red and tear streaked once he was finished but she did not offer up any more of an explanation as she did not have anything else to give.
This went on for several weeks. Twice a week or more Emma would unknowingly set fire to her bed in her sleep and each time it happened the punishments became more severe. Eventually Michael took away the remnants of the burned mattress, quilts, and pillow altogether, leaving Emma with nothing but the metal bed frame to sleep in.
Since removing the flammable materials from her space the fires had become less frequent, however, the ever present holes in her clothing and blackened metal cot told her they were still happening just less flamboyantly. Michael and Mary had taken to calling her a pyromaniac, still believing it was her purposefully starting the fires in a bit of childish rebellion as she never seemed to be injured by the flames. Julia still claimed to believe Emma about being innocent but as time went on even the 6 year old sounded less sure it wasn’t she who was causing havoc in the family.
The beatings came frequently, the girls’ father growing angrier each time and looking for any excuse he could find to remove his belt. As for Emma herself she found her hands growing increasingly hotter, her palms sweating and itching almost constantly now. She tried to tell her mother of her odd medical predicament but Mary just believed she was making up more excuses to try and throw them off her trail.
Emma was scared and confused but eventually resigned herself to dealing with her problems all on her own, her parents clearly uninterested in caring for their own child. She had always possessed a bit of a temper and wasn’t afraid to put someone in their place should she feel they deserve it but this new set of circumstances and the obvious fear her family had for her had left Emma with a hardness no 10 year old should have.
She had taken to more or less caring for herself, not that she hadn’t been doing that previously, but aside from beatings and harsh words when she did quite literally anything in their vicinity Mary and Michael had taken to simply ignoring their eldest daughter altogether.
“Julia set out the plates and get your father. This is nearly done.” Mary demanded, flipping sizzling bacon with one hand, the other perched on her bony hip in her usual expression of annoyance. She didn’t particularly trust Emma around the stove these days and had become too fearful of her to even let her help in other ways.
As the rest of the family sat down to enjoy a meal together, Emma snatched a piece of toast and a strip of bacon off the platter before setting off out the door. While her mother may not want her around the cooking food it was apparently still her job to fetch the weekly groceries.
As she walked she absentmindedly scratched at her itchy palms, wiping sweat on her dress every so often. The burning sensation had increased over the last couple of days and was driving Emma mad but she was growing used to it. However, it certainly seemed worse today for some reason.
The closer she got to town the worse her symptoms seemed to get, the girl clawing at her palms until they were blistered red. They had also begun to swell somewhere along the way, the skin stretching and tightening like 2 big water blisters ready to burst.
They were beginning to agitate Emma a great deal by the time she had made it to the grocer’s, her whole hands up to the wrists now burning something awful and she thought they might just burst into flames if they got any hotter. She collected a few of the things they needed around the small market and moved towards the ice chest containing the different cuts of fish.
Unable to stand the incessant aggravation any longer the girl glanced around to make sure no one was looking before plunging her hands into the ice chest and automatically sighing with relief. However, the relief was short lived as her hands only seemed to burn hotter beneath the ice, quickly melting the contents inside. Emma watched in horror as the ice began to disappear at a rapid pace, the fish chunks soon floating around a box of tepid, smelly water and her hands burning worse than ever.
“Oi! You girl! Wha’ d’ya think yer doin’?” Emma jumped at the grocer’s gruff voice, ripping her hands out of the ice chest and spinning around to face his wrath.
“Yeh think it’s funny d’ya? Ruin’ me stock? Yer goin’ ter pay for all that.” The grocery man was livid, stalking towards the little girl with an angry red face. Emma was just debating whether to make a run for it or to stay and try to explain herself when all of a sudden, in her adrenaline induced state, her swollen, burning hands suddenly spontaneously combusted right before their very eyes.
Emma yelped and instinctively wrung out her hands trying to put out the fire but of course it didn’t work. The grocer took a hurried step backwards away from her as his eyes widened in surprised fear. Emma was terrified and had no idea what to do so she did the only thing she could think of. She ran.
The 10 year old high tailed it out of the shop and through the center of town, people gasping and jumping out of the way as they took notice of her flaming appendages. The flames consumed her hands up to the wrists, 2 great balls of fire encouraged into burning brighter by Emma’s panicked flee.
She ran until she made it to the beach, collapsing in the surf and plunging her hands into the ice cold seawater in a desperate attempt to put out the flames. The fire extinguished underwater but the pain persisted and as she drew them back out they immediately relit. Emma went back and forth for several minutes, dunking her hands in the water, watching the fire die and the water sizzle, just to pull them out and have it rekindle itself all without leaving a scratch on the girl’s tender skin.
Eventually the adrenaline began to subside and so did the intensity of the flames, Emma discovering that if she concentrated really hard on calming both her breathing and her heart rate that the fire began to sputter and finally vanish, stubby, pale fingers back to normal if not still uncomfortably warm. She was afraid of letting her emotions light them back up and worked very hard to keep herself calm as she stared at her fingers in disbelief.
Once she was certain she had it somewhat under control Emma turned back towards home, fearfully checking her hands every time she felt an itch or a prickle of heat, knowing she did not in fact have things under control as she was desperately trying to convince herself. She could not let her mother or father find out about this. They would lock her up, kick her out, or maybe even kill her depending on what kind of day Michael had at the factory.
Emma was doing her best to suppress the panic needling its way into her chest when she finally made it back across town without incident, scurrying into the Bloom’s apartment home and off to her bedroom without stopping to even check if anyone was home. Her father was likely still at work, her mother off at a neighbor’s house spilling her woes to her housewife friends. Julia, however, was sprawled atop her bed, already out of school for the day.
“You’re back quick. Where’s the groceries?” The 6 year old questioned, attempting to read a children’s book she had nicked from school. Emma didn’t immediately answer, sitting down on the edge of her own metal cot and breathing hard, taking in the events that had just occurred.
“Emma? Are you alright?” Julia had her full attention on her older sister now, obviously concerned by her odd behavior and abandoning her book on farm animals to sit up and face the other girl.
“I-“ Emma started, unsure of what to actually tell her or how to do it without sounding completely, certifiably insane.
“I think.. there’s something seriously wrong with me Julia.” Emma stared hard at her hands, half wanting them to catch fire again and prove to herself and Julia it had really happened but at the same time fearing she wouldn’t be able to stop it again if they did.
“What do you mean?” Julia was intrigued, wanting to understand what was going on with her big sister as of late. Emma hesitated only a moment, taking in an unsteady breath before finally telling the other girl everything.
“I was at the market and my hands started burning like they were going to catch fire any second. It hurt so bad I stuck them in the ice box where the fish are kept. But then the ice started melting and when I pulled them out they really did catch on fire! Can you believe that? I certainly couldn’t. Both my hands, covered in flames but the craziest part? It didn’t even hurt. It was like my skin was fire proof or something. Then the grocer man got mad I had ruined the fish and I ran out of the shop and down to the beach. Everyone in town saw. They all know I’m a freak, Julia, and they’re going to tell mum and dad and then I’m done for!” At some point tears had begun to run down the 10 year old’s face, fear coursing through her body but also relief at finally having told someone. However, Julia wasn’t sporting the expression Emma had expected her to have after relaying such surprising and exciting information.
“You’re just making that up.” The younger girl pouted, crossing her arms over her chest and putting on a rather adorable look of annoyance. “You must have done something really bad in town in you’re making up stories to cover it up Emma.”
“I’m telling the truth!” Emma cried, begging the other girl to believe her. “Everyone saw! The grocer watched me catch on fire! It really happened I swear! Julia you have to believe me.”
“Father told me not to listen to your excuses Emma. He said you’re just looking for attention and to not spend so much time with you anymore.” Now Emma was growing angry. Angry at her sister for not believing her story, angry at her parents for refusing to listen to what was obviously a cry for help, and angry with herself for believing that anyone would care enough about her to do either of those things.
She opened her mouth to tell her sister exactly where she would stick her flaming fist the next time she saw their father when her anger got the best of her, the lack of control causing her fists to go up in flames again just like at the market.
Julia screamed. Emma gasped and reflexively tried to scurry backwards away from the heat. However, just like earlier the flames did not harm her, simply wriggling and dancing across her fingertips as the pair watched in astonishment.
“Wha- how are you doing that?” Julia had fallen off the opposite side of her bed when she had gotten spooked by the sudden appearance of the fire and now crept cautiously around the bedpost with wide, fearful eyes and her mouth agape in utter shock.
“I told you I don’t know! I can’t control it.” Emma tried frustratedly shaking out her hands again with about as much luck as the first time. Her eyebrows furrowed in concentration as she tried to calm herself down again but she was too amped up by her fight with Julia.
Julia watched with fascinated horror as Emma flexed her fingers, tried blowing them out like a match, and huffed in annoyance when nothing seemed to work, the flames blazing hotter than ever. Finally she took a long, deep breath and concentrated on clearing her mind and slowing her racing heart. Closing her eyes she imagined her hands encased in ice and the flames slowly dissolving, her skin cooling underneath the ice. After a couple of minutes she risked a peak and, to her delight, found nothing more than her very average, fire free fingers wiggling in front of her.
A wide grin broke out on the older girl’s face, waggling her cold fingers for Julia to see. She didn’t have complete control over her new ability but it was a start. The next time it happened she at least knew how to stop it even if she couldn’t always control when it happened.
* * *
It wasn’t until the next day that things went from bad to worse. Emma and Julia were at school and it seemed the events of yesterday were already making their way around town, Emma’s classmates ogling and whispering behind her back when they thought she wasn’t listening. Julia’s classmates kept asking if the rumors were true and if her sister could really control fire. The 6 year old told the truth. The 10 year old did not.
Julia’s innocent, naive friends were entranced with the idea that someone could spout fire out of their fingertips at will, continuously asking how she did it and trying in vain to replicate it themselves all throughout class, much to their teacher’s chagrin. Emma’s classmates, however, were less impressed and more wary of the girl on fire. There were murmured whispers of ‘freak’, ‘monster’, ‘con artist’, ‘gypsy’, and Emma did her best to ignore the lot of them. Nevertheless, it was only a matter of time until the girl’s hot headed temper got the best of her as it always seemed to. One of the boys that sat behind her was animatedly whispering to his friend, obviously intending for Emma to overhear.
“My mum was in the village when it happened. Saw the whole thing. She said if she hadn’t jumped out of the way when she did she would have gotten set on fire. She felt the heat and everything the freak got so close.” The boy sneered, earning an amused chuckle from his crony beside him. “My father was even saying we should bring back the witch trials. She’d certainly be the first to hang.”
That did it. Emma whipped around in her seat with so much fire in her eyes it was a surprise she didn’t light the whole desk up like a bonfire. The glint of fear that passed between the two boys was enough to grant her the smallest amount of satisfaction as she silently dared them to speak another word against her.
“If you 2 don’t shut your gobs this instant I’ll set the both of you on fire and dance in the ashes. We’ll see what your mum says then when you come home on the bottom of my shoe.” She hissed, holding up one hand and giving them a very unladylike gesture.
“Miss Bloom!” Screeched the school marm, turning just in time to miss the exchange of words but to witness the raised middle finger. The boys sniggered and feigned innocence as they took great delight in seeing her get in trouble.
“They started it Miss!” Emma tried, pointing at the pair of goons who were pretending to pour over their schoolwork.
“That is quite enough Miss Bloom. You will turn back around and worry about yourself or else I will have to get the ruler again. Am I understood?” Emma grumbled a response and turned back around in her seat, the back of her neck prickling in irritation as the boys continued to make snide remarks all throughout class.
After school Emma practically dragged Julia away from the grey brick building and through the busy streets back towards home. The townsfolk ogled Emma as bad, if not worse, than her classmates had, backing away in fear as she passed, mother’s roughly tugging children into their skirts, father’s shaking their head’s disapprovingly at her as they shielded their family’s. Emma set her brow and surged forwards through the throng, Julia trotting along behind her already out of breath.
“Emma slow down.” The younger girl whined, panting and struggling to keep up as they made the journey from school to home in nearly half the time it usually took.
When they got there Julia scurried off to help their mother prep for supper while Emma locked herself in their bedroom. She flopped down on her bed, the old metal cot groaning in response to her sudden weight. Everyone in town knew. They all had an opinion of her and it did not appear to be a good one. The other kids were bad enough but hearing the same whispers of ‘freak’ and ‘witch’ from the grown ups just worked to solidify Emma’s belief that she was quickly becoming the town outcast.
Perhaps she should just run away and join the circus. Emma snorted at that thought. What would perfect Michael and Mary say then? Their daughter, the circus freak.
All of a sudden Emma’s ears caught the sound of another voice in the house, that of one of her mother’s neighbor friends, and she sounded distressed which of course piqued the 10 year old’s curiosity. She crept out of her bedroom and into the kitchen where Mrs. Lisenby, the woman next door, appeared to be having a come apart.
“It’s all over town Mary! They’re saying she caught fire, just like that!” She snapped her fingers before resuming her frantic pacing across the kitchen floor. “No reason at all. Harry said he got onto her about bungling his fish. He said soon as she took her hands out of the ice box they just lit up like a matchstick. Poof! Gave the poor man quite the fright. And then she just ran off, disappeared towards the cove.” Mrs. Lisenby was clearly distressed and Mary herself looked as if she couldn’t decide whether to be worried about her dear friend’s mental state or terrified of her own daughter.
“Well it had to have been some sort of mistake Alice. There is just not way someone could conjure fire right into their hands, least of all my very own daughter.” Mary offered as a weak rebuttal but she didn’t look at all convinced as her face slackened in deep thought and her fingers instinctively went to the cross she wore at her throat. She of course hadn’t told Mrs. Lisenby of Emma’s pyromaniac tendencies.
“What if the girl’s a witch Mary? What if she’s possessed by the devil himself?!” Mrs. Lisenby was really working herself into a state now, chewing at her fingernails as she wore a path across the kitchen tile. Emma had heard enough and was becoming increasingly agitated by people claiming she was such awful things without asking her about their accusations first. Before she really thought about what she was doing the girl stepped into view with an expression of barely concealed wrath on her face ready to let them have it. Mrs. Lisenby let out a yelp and jumped so hard Emma was surprised she hadn’t hit her head on the ceiling.
“For your information I am not a witch.” Emma seethed, all but shaking with silent rage. “And I will thank you kindly to stop spreading these atrocious lies about me Miss.” Mrs. Lisenby was taken aback, her lips moving but no sound coming out as she floundered like a fish out of water.
“I didn’t mean.. I- I really must be getting home now. The kids.. yes I should go.” She hastily bid farewell to Mary, casting more spooked looks in the direction of the little girl still staring daggers at her on her way out. As soon as the door was shut and they were alone Mary rounded on her daughter.
“What is wrong with you?” She hissed, malice in her deadly quiet voice.
“I just don’t think it’s fair that people are accusing me of something so horrible. I am not a witch or possessed by the devil mother!” Emma huffed, crossing her arms over her chest in defiance.
“What you are is a nasty, attention seeking little girl.” Mary began stalking towards Emma. “I don’t know how you’re pulling these little stunts of yours but they need to cease this instant! You are single-handedly ruining this family’s good name and turning the whole of Cornwall against us!”
Mary was absolutely livid, her face turning scarlet and her hands shaking where they hung at her sides, fingers clearly itching to wrap themselves around little Emma’s throat. Before she could defend herself in walked Michael, Julia hot on his heels with a basket of cabbage from the lady down the street. Michael Bloom paused as he put away his coat and hat, glanced between his seething wife and frustrated eldest daughter before he face curled into a look of irritated disgust and he let out a resigned sigh.
“What have you done this time eh?” He sighed again, directing the accusatory question at Emma. However, her mother stepped in before she could utter a single word.
“The little wench was mucking about in the grocer’s yesterday apparently. Alice stopped by and she was in a right state claiming the girl had set herself on fire right in front of Mr. Mandel and then went running through the streets for everyone to see! Yet, not a scratch on her. Just like always. I don’t know how she’s doing it Michael but this cannot continue.” Mary tsked her tongue, glaring darkly at Emma. “They are calling her a witch, a demon from hell Michael.”
Mr. Bloom’s expression had grown darker and more angry with every word, his beady black eyes boring into Emma’s undeterred green ones. “Is this true?” He asked her in a deadly quiet voice, venom dripping from every syllable.
“Yes.” Emma stated plainly, meeting her father’s lethal glare without fear. She was done trying to reason with these people. If they weren’t going to listen to her then she wasn’t going to cower in front of them begging for their mercy and forgiveness.
Michael looked as if he was going to blow a fuse. Nostrils flared, breaths coming in harsh puffs, fingers quivering with rage, he reached out for Emma, undoubtedly ready to throttle her and be done with all this malarkey. However, something happened that shocked every single individual in the room, including Emma herself.
As her anger at her family took hold and consumed her very being, Emma lit up like a firework and this time it wasn’t just her hands. This time her entire body from the tip of her blonde head to the toes of her worn out boots was instantly engulfed in red hot flames. It was as if a bomb had detonated beneath her feet, the flames licking up towards the ceiling as the girl’s fury made them flicker and dance wildly around her.
Mary and Julia screamed, jumping backwards. Michael hurried to shield them with his own body as he stared transfixed, mouth agape, at Emma in the center of the fire, posed like an effigy with a wicked little grin on her perfectly poised face. She peered at her family from behind the wall of fire, unfazed by the heat that should have begun melting her baby soft skin instantaneously, knowing they now had no choice but to believe her.
* * *
Mary Bloom could not handle it. She wasted no time fleeing from the house screeching about how her daughter was a demon delivered straight from Hell via her own womb. She did not take any of her belongings or inform anyone where she was going. She simply fled, no one knowing when or if she would ever return.
As soon as she left Emma’s act of spontaneous combustion ceased and her father took out his own fear and anger via the belt. The 10 year old was bruised, bloody, and still covered in soot from the fire when her father forcibly dragged her by the hair down the hallway and threw her into her bedroom, Emma screaming and cursing the whole way. He returned minuets later with a set of asbestos sheets, tying her hands and feet to each corner of the metal cot.
“You can rot in here for all I care.” Michael spat in disgust. “You are no daughter of mine. The devil can come and collect you himself if he wants you back.”
He boarded up the window and locked the door from the outside so she could not escape, Julia being forced to move to the couch at night to sleep and forbidden to go anywhere near her sister. Nevertheless, the 6 year old did not always abide by her father’s horrid rules.
He really did seem determined to let his eldest daughter starve to death and as the days dragged on Julia began sneaking bits of food from at least one of their meals, mixing it up each day so as not to arouse suspicion, and collecting the key from where her father had stashed it in a flower pot before sneaking into the bedroom after Michael had fallen into his nightly drunken stupor.
“I nicked some bread for you Emma.” Stated Julia quietly as she stealthily made her way into their room that evening.
“Thanks Julia.” The older girl croaked back, voice hoarse with disuse, lips cracking with dehydration.
Julia poured a bit of water from the jug on the nightstand into the foggy, unwashed glass that had been sitting there for the last week and took her time tearing off bits of hard bread, hand feeding it to her sister as if she were an invalid. Emma was silent during all of this, eyes dull and glazed over as she chewed reflexively and without interest. Nearly 6 days locked in a dark room, unable to move or interact with anyone had left the 10 year old depressed and vaguely mad, eyes roaming back and forth across the bare ceiling as if there were a projector playing a film only she could see.
It took Emma entirely too long to finish the meager meal, the bread somehow hard, burnt, and chewy all at the same time. With Mary gone Michael and Julia were struggling with meals, a man and a young child about as adept at cooking as monkeys in the zoo. Nevertheless, Emma did not complain, or even seem to taste it really, just monotonously chewing and swallowing with whatever undercooked or overcooked slop Julia managed to obtain for her.
The asbestos sheets kept her from lighting anything on fire and releasing herself but she had certainly tried like hell in the first couple of days, refusing to give in to her father without a fight. However, all that her efforts had achieved were a few new holes in her clothing and a blackened metal cot beneath her.
“They have started asking about you at school.” Julia started, often catching Emma up on what she had been missing. “Father said to just tell them you’re sick but I don’t know how long we can keep up that lie. The people in town stare at father and me when we go, probably wondering if I can do it too and what he’s done to you and mother.”
Emma listened without a flicker of interest, still staring unwaveringly at the dark ceiling.
“We started learning arithmetic is school. It’s awful. A boy in my class brought in a frog and it hopped up Mrs. Spinnet’s skirts. That was funny. I ripped my dress tripping in the street yesterday. I wish mother was here to fix it.” Julia’s voice got quieter as she fidgeted with her fingers in her lap, Emma finally looking at her younger sister.
“I’m sorry Julia.” She whispered with sincerity. “I never meant to hurt you.”
“Why’d you have to do it Emma? Why couldn’t you just keep it a secret, be normal?” Julia’s eyebrows furrowed in frustration and angry tears gathered in the younger girl’s eyes.
Emma didn’t even have it in her to be mad at her for speaking just as the adults did about her. She knew it wasn’t Julia’s fault, she was just a little girl who couldn’t understand why her mother had abandoned her, why her father was so cruel, or why her sister, her best friend, was a freak with supernatural powers at the center of all this tumult.
“I’m sorry Julia.” Emma repeated softly. “I really, really am. I didn’t ask for this either.”
Julia left soon after, leaving Emma to stare at the ceiling and contemplate her seemingly worthless existence until the next time the other girl came for a visit.
This went on for an agonizingly long couple of weeks, a teacher from the school even showing up at the house one time to check on Emma in which Michael lied and told her that the girl was incapacitated by a horribly infectious disease and that no one could get near her or even step foot into the house without risk of contamination. Only once a week did Michael briefly cast a look into the dark room to see whether or not Emma was still alive, simply wishing to remove the body before it could smell up the house once she was no longer his problem. He always looked quite disgruntled when her head lolled to the side to give him a weak glare, ensuring him of her continued survival. He still did not know of Julia’s late night escapades after all and apparently just decided to believe demons did not require frequent food or drink to survive.
However, one night Julia didn’t come, at least not at her usual time. This was the first night in nearly a month that the girls’ father hadn’t drank himself into a diluted stupor throughout the evening and was too alert for the 6 year old to try and steal a bit of food at dinner and he also refused to retire to his bedroom until nearly midnight. Finally the quiet shuffling of the lock indicated the other girl’s arrival except this time she did not hold food scraps between her tiny fingers but something that glinted silver in the minuscule rays of moonlight penetrating the boarded up room.
“Emma!” Julia seemed agitated, her eyes as wide as saucers as she hurried over to the bed. “I nicked father’s pocket knife. I’m setting you free.”
Emma perked up at this news, watching as Julia clumsily brandished the small blade, hacking at the knotted fabric around one wrist and nearly cutting both of them about half a dozen times in the process.
Once she had a hand free Emma wasted no time before quickly sawing the other 3 limbs out of their bindings. As soon as she could move freely the older girl hopped up on shaky legs, a newfound sense of purpose finding its way within her.
“Come with me Julia.” Emma pleaded hurriedly, throwing a few essentials into a knapsack.
“I can’t Emma. I can’t leave father and what if mother comes back?” The younger girl was clearly anxious but there was also a sort of determined resignation on her young face.
“They’ll know you helped me. They’ll take it out on you Julia!”
“I’m not going Emma. I’ll put the key and the knife back and he’ll never know. He doesn’t know I know where they are. Even if he does find out it’s better than watching you die.” There was sadness in Julia’s big green eyes but she did not shed a tear, instead wrapping her big sister in the biggest, strongest hug she could muster before pushing her towards the open door.
The younger girl stealthily replaced the key and the knife from where she had found them but left the bedroom door unlocked so that it just looked like Emma had found a way out herself. If they were lucky it would be days before Michael even noticed, giving Emma as much of a head start as possible, not that he would bother looking her even when he did realize. Michael would be thrilled that she was no longer his burden to bear.
Emma took a few cans of food from the back of the pantry, hoping he wouldn’t notice if he couldn’t see the empty holes, and filled an old canteen with clean water.
“Thank you Julia.” Emma stated a bit awkwardly once she was standing in the doorway ready to depart. “If I can I will come back for you.”
Julia nodded once, curtly, not oblivious to what was most likely an empty promise.
“Good bye Emma. Be careful.”
Without another word to her sister Emma hurried out into the night, Julia watching anxiously from the steps as her best friend, the only person who had ever truly looked out for her and loved her disappeared into the shadows without so much as a backward glance, abandoning her just as their mother had done.
* * *
Emma traveled the country lanes solely by night for the first few days, not wanting to risk potentially being recognized and sent back to Cornwall. During the day she sheltered in alcoves along the beach, in the scarce trees littered about, or once in a long abandoned barn on the edge of someone’s property.
Being the middle of winter it was quite cold and all Emma had to wear was a rather ratty, blue dress that barely brushed her skinned knees. Yet, she wasn’t at all cold. Little Emma was growing more comfortable with her fire wielding abilities everyday.
Since that last night with her family she hadn’t been able to conjure up anything flamboyant but she had worked out how to hold a baseball sized ball of raw flame between her palms. It was small and inconsistent, often flickering in and out at random, but it was on her terms. No more fire fingers or effigy burnings, although when she sneezed sometimes a little flame still blew out of her nose like a dragon with a chest cold. She also found that she really didn’t feel the cold unless the temperature became exceptionally low and the fire raging in her core seemed to stutter, sapping and depleting her energy faster than normal.
Emma had enough canned food for roughly a week along with whatever she could scavenge on the road such as dandelion roots, horseradish roots, and some very questionable mushrooms that left her dreaming of polka dotted monkeys wearing top hats and tailcoats dancing the 2 step. Fresh water was easy enough to come by with the plethora of shallow springs and animal troughs. Emma wasn’t exactly sure where it was she was going but she kept on moving, searching for something to make this life worth living.
As she walked she often began to find her mind wandering to what had become of her family back home. Had her father yet discovered her disappearance? Had her mother come back if she knew Emma was gone from their lives? And what had happened to Julia? Had she been punished for helping her older sister escape or were they simply too pleased to care?
There were still so many more questions swirling around in the 10 year old’s brain when her ears picked up the low hum of distant voices carried to her on the wind, pausing and listening to try and discern what type of people she was about to run up on this late at night. Emma crept towards the sound, careful to keep herself concealed in the shadows. Once she finally caught a good look at the odd group her eyebrows shot upwards in surprise.
There were horses, dogs, and people galore, littered all across a makeshift camp alongside a smattering of more unusual creatures: small monkeys, snakes, a pair of zebras, and even a large lion asleep in one of the barred, cage like trollies. Many of the people gathered around a bonfire in the center of the camp, talking, laughing, and showing off talents as unusual as the beasts they traveled with.
One man juggled pins, throwing them up and down and around in a pattern Emma could not wrap her brain around. A woman decked out in glittering gold jewelry played a miniature flute and swayed her upper body to the music, a gigantic king cobra peeking its head out of a basket and moving its own frilled head to the rhythm as if in a trance. There were also a handful of school aged children running amok as well but they appeared to be in charge of the chores that grown ups did not want to do such as tending the animals and lighting up the fires to cook over rather than practicing odd skills.
This strange amalgamation of people were carnies Emma realized with a start. Circus freaks, outcasts who were considered too weird and abnormal to make a life in respectable society. People normals feared and wanted to keep hidden. People like Emma.
She knew what she needed to do and so with a determined glint in her eye she stepped out of the safety of the darkness and strode right into the heart of the lion’s den with her head held high. The little girl waltzed right up to the gaggle of men and women hovering around the biggest fire and waited on someone to take notice of her.
“Well what do we have here?” An exceptionally tall, lanky man peered down at her with a smile full of yellow, rotting teeth. “Lost are yeh little miss?”
They all chuckled lowly, every pair of eyes now locked onto the lone child in their midst. However, the fire in Emma’s gaze never wavered, staring each of them in the eye as menacingly as a 10 year old could.
“I want to see the ringmaster.” She stated coldly, hands instinctively heating up where they hung at her sides.
“Is that right? And why exactly should the ringmaster himself bother with the likes of you eh?”
“I want a job.” This really set them off, catching the attention of others in the encampment as a few of them all but fell off their log seats laughing. Anger flared in the younger girl, having to dig her fingernails into her palms and bite her tongue to keep from wiping the grins off every one of their faces.
“A job? You want a job as a circus freak? And what makes you think you have something to offer us anyways eh?” The tall man sneered, crossing his knobby arms across an equally knobby chest and sitting down on a log in order to look Emma in the eye.
Surprisingly it was Emma who broke the intense staring contest first but only to glance at the raging fire blazing hotly in the center of the group and calmly walking towards it as everyone watched with rapt interest. A couple of gasps sounded around her as the young girl reached into the flames, plucked out a smoldering stick without so much as a wince of pain, and chomped down on it, a little smoke trail emitting from her nostrils.
“Fire eater.” Emma stated blandly, meeting the tall man’s now impressed gaze. The others looked at her with the same slightly surprised expression on their faces and fell quiet, unsure of how exactly she had just done that. Playing with controlled fire was one thing, it was another entirely for a child to be able to reach into the red hot flames without a flicker of pain or injury.
“Humph. She’s got tricks.” The tall man grinned, a knowing look passing between him and the snake charmer that Emma did not notice. “Ringmaster’s in that tent o’er there.”
He pointed to the largest tent of all in the center of the camp, Emma nodding her thanks before proceeding in that direction. “Good luck little Phoenix.” The tall man’s chuckled lowly, the eyes of all the carnies following her.
“Hello?” She called, peeking her head inside.
“Yeah? Wha’ d’yer want now?” A gruff, slightly slurred voice responded from somewhere in the very back of the tent.
“I’m looking for a job.” Emma stepped fully inside the dingy makeshift home, peering around for the man she was speaking to. Finally, a squat little man in his mid 40’s poked his egg shaped head out, a flask of booze clutched in his chubby fingers.
“A job eh? And what exactly is it you can do little girl?”
“I’m a fire eater.” The ring master quirked one eyebrow and moved out of the shadows to get a better look at her.
“A fire eater eh? You seem mighty young to be playing with fire. You know the last one we had ended up setting herself on fire in the middle of a show. Haven’t exactly been too keen on replacing that act after the uproar she caused.” His beady black eyes stared scrutinizingly at Emma, sizing her up.
“That won’t happen with me sir. Give me a chance to prove it to you.” Emma had that determined look on her face, the one that either made adults treat her as an isolate, disobedient child, or as an equal. In this case it seemed to work in the girl’s favor as a yellow, toothy grin spread slowly across the ring master’s pimply face.
“I like your confidence kid. Very well then. We have a show in 3 days time. Let’s see what you got.” He nodded and turned away from her, a clear dismissal, and Emma left his tent feeling rather satisfied.
* * *
The 3 days passed rather quickly, the circus folks accepting Emma but still keeping a heathy distance as they remained uncertain of her. She kept the more unnatural aspects of her abilities to herself, however, that didn’t stop her from adding on a bit of a flare from time to time during practice.
As opposed to the normal people that has to ingest some form of toxic, flammable substance in order to breathe fire like a dragon, Emma did not need to. She was able to inhale the flames and breathe them back out at will, even going so far as to shoot a a bonfire sized jet of fire 6 feet into the air above her like a human blowtorch.
As she found her flow and developed a routine Emma became all the more experimental with exactly how much she could get away with before anyone suspected it might be more than just an act. Her body moved in a sort of dance of her own creation as she twirled the burning torches she carried, sending sparks flying all around her like fireflies dancing across a summer meadow.
The group spent most of the daylight hours traveling, stopping only for a meager lunch or to occasionally re-shoe a horse. During the evenings those that had something to practice did so, the others whose abnormality lay within their physical appearance busying themselves with cooking or playfully cat calling their friends.
Emma had been somewhat fascinated upon seeing all the different acts that first evening as she had only ever seen the circus one time as a very small child. Alongside the snake charmer lady there was also the lion tamer, the twins that did acrobatics while riding a pair of zebras Roman style, a man that trained dogs to jump through hoops, a trapeze artist that doubled as a contortionist and could squeeze her entire body into a milk crate. And of course there were those that relied on their unusual physical traits such as the tall man, the bearded lady, the girl who barely stood 3 feet tall at 22 years old, and the man that had tattooed and pierced his body so extravagantly that he more closely resembled a serpent than a human.
Then there were the other children who Emma learned were orphaned runaways just looking for food and work and who were the ones to set up camp and handle the brunt work that came with traveling with the circus. Emma was the youngest of the performers but one of the oldest children and the orphan boys weren’t too keen on befriending performers. She was left to try and make a place for herself among the grown ups even if they were more or less ignoring her as well until they knew whether or not she was fated to become one of them.
“Reckon we’ll be there tomorrow. Just enough time to set up before the first show on Friday night.” The tall man, who Emma now knew was named Phineas, grunted, warming his hands by the fire that evening.
“Gonna be a bloody cold one this weekend. Last cold spell of the year I hope. Thought spring was supposed to be warm and flowery. Think anyone’ll actually come out for the show?” Asked the snake charmer, Leonora, shrugging her traveling cloak tighter against the biting wind.
“People always show. No matter the weather. Remember that ice storm few years back in London? Or that heat spell in Bristol when people was fainting left and right? People don’t care bout weather so long as they get their money’s worth o’ entertainment.” The others chuckled in agreement, swapping stories back and forth about the past. Emma listened with only mild interest, having nothing to contribute and no desire to anyhow, simply killing time until she could go back to her tent for the night.
“You ready for your shot at the big top little miss?” Phineas turned his attention onto her as did most of the others.
“Guess so.” Emma shrugged, intently chewing her food. She didn’t have much interest in idle chat or making friends, preferring when they ignored her and left her to go about her own business. Yet, her hostility never seemed to have the desired effect on Phineas at least.
“Been watching you with your little light sticks.” Phineas grinned with his yellow teeth. “You seem quite comfortable handling that fire. Almost abnormally so.”
Emma glared at him, not entirely sure what he was implying and yet again completely missing the knowing look he exchanged with the snake charmer.
“I beg your pardon?” Emma bristled, ready to either come up with some lame excuse for her odd ability or pick a fight with him in order to divert his attention elsewhere. However, the tall man just let out a low chuckle of amusement.
“Only teasing kid. You’ll do just fine. I’m sure of it.” He winked at her and went back to making bets with the others about who would muck up their act this week, leaving Emma both confused and mildly aggravated by his incessant need to pick at her.
There was much chatter on the road the next day as the group of oddballs drew closer to their destination with every step. Emma entertained herself with conjuring little fireballs between her hands when no one was watching, the adults laughing and taking light hearted jabs at one another involving their talents as per usual. Even the animals seemed more restless than normal, obviously picking up on the excitement radiating off the humans.
After what felt like an eternity and a half they finally arrived on the outskirts of a sleepy little town Emma did not recognize. They were quite far inland at this point and the terrain had changed considerably. Where there were rocky, sandy beaches, the smell of salt in the damp air, and vast cliffs looking out across the sea, here there were no distant sounds of waves crashing against the shore, flat, brown countryside as far as the eye could see, and the tiny village set in the middle of it all looked pale, Victorian, and rather sickly. From what Emma could see from their place atop the lone hill these people still lived like it was the mid 1800s, completely forgoing the thriving modern day society that was the 1920s.
The boys went about setting up camp and since they had arrived mid afternoon there was enough light to begin setting up the big top as well. This was the first time Emma had seen the show tent and watched in mild fascination as it was erected, the boys working together quickly and efficiently clearly having done this a few dozen times before. The ringmaster was strutting about checking in on everyone ensuring they were fit and ready to perform the following night.
“Ready for your shot at the big time kid?” He asked her with a toothy grin. She had learned the man’s name was Sawyer but he preferred to be called “the amazing Stolinski” or simply ringmaster.
“Guess so.” Emma shrugged, having no more enthusiasm for him than anyone else.
“Ah come on kid. This is your chance to be a star. Anyone else in your position would be over the moon ecstatic!” He beamed, opening his arms wide and gesturing to the entirety of the operation. However, Emma wasn’t so sure that was true. No one wanted to be a circus freak, it was what you became as a last ditch effort to survive. She simply gave the ringmaster a tight lipped smile that more closely resembled a grimace and a curt nod, knowing full well what would come out of her mouth if she chose to speak.
“You’ll go on after the twins.” He continued on, unbothered by Emma’s lack of enthusiasm. “The lion tamer will come out before you’ve finished and you’ll light up the ring of fire for her on your way out.”
Emma nodded that she understood and he clapped her on the back before moving off to pester someone else.
As the morning light crested the hilltop and cast a warm glow around the frosty, fluttering circus tent a few of the early risers in the village began to take notice of their sudden appearance. There was pointing and staring as everyone realized the circus had come to town and later in the morning the boys set out to sell tickets and hype up the people for tonight.
The performers had the day to lounge about or lightly practice, not wanting to be too worn out before it had even begun. Everyone seemed to be in high spirits, laughing and joking boisterously as they huddled around the fires for warmth. Leonora had been right about the cold. It was bloody freezing and it would only get worse as the weak sunlight disappeared into night.
Nevertheless, Emma didn’t mind at all. The biting winds didn’t bother her like it did the others. And just as Phineas had predicted it did not seem to stop the villagers from wanting to see the show either as the boys returned that afternoon with significantly fuller pockets of coins.
“Nearly everyone down there bought a ticket!” One boy, Fabian, grinned, unloading his pockets into the hat of the ringmaster alongside the others.
“Well done boys. Get some food and start bringing everything into the tent. Only a few more hours until show time!”
As the sun went down and the lights went up the night came alive with fantastical wonder. The tent was alight with torches scattered all about the stands for added warmth, people slowly trickling in and chattering excitedly to one another.
The performers lined up out back, ready to enter the ring when their time came. The boys ran around yelling about snacks and drinks for sale trying to make a few extra coins. And at exactly 7:00 on the dot the ringmaster floated into the tent and allowing his booming voice to bounce around the walls.
“Welcome friends! We are so pleased that so many of you could come out to see the show tonight and I also hope you will consider telling your friends about the other two shows we hope to amuse you with during our short stay in your fine town. The circus doesn’t come to town just any old day y’know.” He flashed a grin into the crowd of onlookers. “So please, eat, drink, and enjoy what we have to offer you.”
The ringmaster gave a dramatic bow and turned on his heel, his cape fanning out behind him, and rushed out the back of the tent as the “freaks” hurried in behind him to put their odd deformities on full display. Emma heard the ‘oo’s’ and ‘awe’s’ of the crowd as the tall man and his fellow abnormals flaunted their physical differences, people whooping and gawking like they were at a human zoo.
After them was Leonora, a basket of venomous snakes and a flute in hand. Women and children shrieked as the dangerous vipers began to slither around the ring under her command. Then came the trapeze artist/contortionist, the dogs and cart horses turned show ponies, and finally it was time for the twins with their zebras.
Emma was growing just a little bit nervous now, her fingers fidgeting and sending sparks up into the chilly night air. She listened to the sounds of hooves galloping and the cheers that followed as the twins performed their acrobatic stunts on the backs of the running animals. Finally, the pair trotted back out with wide grins on their faces, adrenaline pumping from the ride.
Emma grabbed her torches and scurried into the ring before she had time to hesitate, lighting the ends with her fingertips as she went. Every pair of eyes was now on her, the air stiflingly hot with so many bodies packed into such a small space and the fire dancing around the upper portion of the tent.
Emma took a deep breath and held her torches up to show the crowd, being met with excited cheers that gave her the little boost of confidence that she needed to settle into the performance. She knew her routine by heart now, dancing smoothly around the ring to the joyous sound of applause and screams of mock fear when her torches purposefully strayed into the crowd. A thin stream of fire emitted from her lips as she twirled the lit torches like batons in a complicated ballet of her own making.
The crowd really took off when the young girl took the entire end of one of the blazing sticks into her mouth and ejected a wall of fire 6 feet into the air above her before allowing the smoke to trail from her nostrils like a burnt out dragon. The crowd cheered as loudly as ever, clearly impressed by the miniature fire eater. Emma grinned as she drank in the applause all for her, giving a dramatic bow and lighting up the ring of fire for the lion to jump through before hurrying back outside into the cold air.
“Well done kid.” Phineas gave her a rather enthusiastic pat on the back that made her topple forwards with a short laugh.
“They really loved you.” Chimed in Leonora.
“Indeed they did. Think you can keep that up for 2 more days little miss?” The ringmaster asked hopefully, an excited glint in his beady little eyes.
“Are you saying I have a job?” Emma smirked playfully, reveling in the praise.
“I’m saying if you can get that much satisfaction from the crowd for 2 more shows then I do in fact think we can find a place for you in our midst.” Emma smirked with satisfaction of her own, assuring them that she was up to the task. That had actually been kinda fun.
The rest of the weekend went just as well, the stands equally as full as the first show and the crowd just as boisterous even though most of them had seen the same acts at least twice now. They were clearly desperate for a respite from their mundane everyday lives.
By the time Monday rolled around and it was time to hit the road again Emma was officially a circus freak. They traveled quickly and efficiently, only stopping when absolutely necessary. It could be anywhere from 2-4 days between shows depending on how far they had to travel, weather conditions, supplies, and the health of both humans and animals.
June rolled around and Emma had been with the circus for just about a month now. The heat of summer had begun to set in and the entourage had now made it all the way up to Wales. Initially Emma had been fascinated by the idea of the big city after living on the outskirts of Cornwall her entire life. That was until they had first arrived in London 2 and a half weeks prior and she had begun choking on a viscous layer of smog before they had even entered the city limits.
There were plenty of factories back home putting out the toxic smelling smoke but nothing compared to the city. After only a day Emma couldn’t understand why anyone would choose to wade through the sludge in the streets, constantly breathe in the thick, cancerous fog, or stand listening to the constant chatter of machines, factories, and street brawls. However, these highly populated towns certainly brought in some good business.
They often stayed more than the standard one or two nights in these bigger towns because there was so much more demand and they were able to sell out every night. Even during a financial rough spot it seemed no one could resist a night of frivolity.
Emma had gotten comfortable with her part of the show and knew her routine well, knowing exactly what got the crowd whooping and cheering for more. They had even picked up a few new acts along the way. There was Harry and Larry the twins that had been conjoined at the neck since birth, Julius the juggler who could keep 20 bowling pins in the air while simultaneously riding a unicycle, and then there was Alejandro the clown with his silly shaped balloons and enormous shoes he couldn’t help but trip over.
Their little circus family was growing meaning the more shows and the more money the better. As an official performer Emma received a small stipend from each show but it wasn’t much at all, especially considering she was still the youngest. However, it was enough for the very few essentials a 10 year old needed.
The circus provided food and shelter and anything she couldn’t acquire for herself one of the others were usually willing to help if they could. Phineas and Leonora at least. The others still weren’t too keen on her presence with her being so young and a girl, but Emma thought it really had more to do with the fact she got so much more attention from the crowd than they did. It also didn’t help that the young girl had no problem telling them exactly how she felt about their opinions of her in a way that would make even the most ruthless sailor blush.
But Phineas and Leonora were different. They kept an eye on her, helped her with any problem she might have had, and occasionally made odd remarks behind her back about her being peculiar. Emma didn’t care. She had been called much worse things than peculiar by her own mother and weren’t they all circus freaks? Wasn’t everyone here a bit odd? Anyways they looked after her and were decently nice to her unlike the rest of the crew.
Leonora had even helped to fix Emma’s hair when she had gotten tired of trying to keep the long, golden locks tidy on the road and lopped it all off with a pair of sheep shears. Now she was sporting the short, bouncy bob her father so detested on top of being an outcast. She really was turning into the very thing her parents so despised and quite frankly little Emma could not have cared less.
Circus life certainly wasn’t the most glamorous thing ever what with being on the road all the time and not bathing for days at a time, sleeping in tents where thieves and ruffians could run up on your during the night, and people certainly tend to get on each other’s nerves in such close quarters but she was free.
Free from the fear. Free from the hatred and abuse. Here she could be herself and no one ran screaming or called her a demon from hell simply for existing. Here she was rewarded for her gift and that was what Emma had finally begun to think of it as, a gift rather than a curse.
Tonight was the first show in Wales and to no one’s surprise it was completely sold out. The boys ran around keeping anyone from trying to sneak in for free while the performers lined up in their usual order of go out back.
Emma absentmindedly patted one of the zebras as she waited on the ringmaster to give his customary opening speech to the crowd welcoming them and thanking them for coming out. As the performers filed one by one into the tent the crowd grew louder and the gaggle of street kids trying to catch a glimpse of the magic within grew larger. Emma’s turn came and she waltzed in already twirling her torches above her head and around her middle, falling into the familiar rhythm encouraged by the steady supply of applause.
Once the show had concluded and the group had taken their final bow everyone began to disperse for the evening. In the chaos between performers going one way and the audience going the other, a woman managed to push her way in front of Emma and corner her back behind the main tent.
Emma blinked up at her in surprise. With her perfectly curled light blonde hair, cherry red lipstick, and crisp, pristine business outfit she looked more like someone on the cover of a women’s rights pamphlet than a factory girl of housewife.
“That was quite the show.” The woman gave her a wide grin, showing off her abnormally perfect teeth. “Fire eating is an unusual choice for someone your age.”
“Guess I’m just that good.” Emma didn’t like this woman. Although she wasn’t totally sure why but something about her sugary sweet voice and the way she managed to talk down to the younger girl while simultaneously trying to make it sound as if she was speaking to an equal irked her.
“You are indeed.” The woman responded cryptically. “And would I be correct in assuming that spectacular ability of yours wasn’t learned but came naturally?”
Emma narrowed her eyes at the other woman, the hairs on the back of her neck standing up in warning.
“Who exactly are you Miss?”
“Who I am isn’t important. What is important is that I know who you are, or rather, what you are. And I know many more people just like you.” Emma gaped at her, too stunned to speak for a long while.
“I’m not sure what you’re talking about.” She didn’t like where this conversation was headed and something told her not to divulge any unnecessary information. The uptight woman just let out a low chuckle.
“Suit yourself. But I’m not here to accuse you of something we both know you possess whether you wish to admit its existence or not. No. I am here to offer you a job. A job with people that have the same explosive talent as yourself and with others whose abilities range as far and wide as you could possibly imagine. I can offer you better wages and companionship with others as talented as yourself. All you have to do is come and work for me.” The woman gave Emma another of her pearly white smiles, allowing her a moment to think it over.
And Emma did, think it over that is. This woman clearly knew something she didn’t and Emma wouldn’t pretend that she wasn’t at all curious what it was. As loathe as she was to admit it she really considered the possibility of following this stranger if it meant understanding more about her abnormal abilities. However, in the end her gut feeling was stronger than her desire for insight. There was something off about all of this and Emma may have been young but she wasn’t stupid enough to wander off with a sketchy stranger.
“No thank you Miss.” The younger girl stated blandly, meeting the cold, dead eyes of the woman whose cheery facade cracked ever so slightly at the denial of her request.
“Well.. you will be giving up the chance to learn more about what you’re capable of and the chance to become someone other than a circus freak. Wouldn’t you like to get away from all this?” She blundered on, sounding a bit peeved that Emma hadn’t immediately fallen to her knees thanking her for her graciousness.
“I said no thank you.” The little girl bit back again, forcing a thin, fake smile onto her lips. The woman huffed in annoyance, pursing her own lips and appearing to think very carefully about her next words.
“I am offering you more money than you will ever see in your lifetime as a circus freak and the chance to actually do something significant with your extraordinary abilities. Do you not understand how valuable they make you? How many people would kill to be in your shoes and would beg for the opportunity to come and work for me?” The business woman was fast growing angry with Emma’s lack of compliance and whereas upon first glance she had appeared much like a perfectly put together movie star, now Emma began to see through the cracks in the mask she had obviously painstakingly crafted for her con.
This woman wasn’t being at all truthful about what exactly it was she was after and the part about being her abilities making her valuable brought up a red flag in Emma’s mind. She let out an irate huff of her own, making sure the annoying woman had her full attention before addressing her for the last time.
“Well thank you ever so kindly for your more than generous offer of rescuing me from the dreadful life of a circus freak Miss.” Emma spoke sarcastically, every syllable dripping with disdain and disgust. “But, and do listen carefully this time will you, I will not go traipsing into whatever foul little con artist scheme you or your egghead bosses have cooked up and let you ruin my life. I am perfectly capable of finding my own way in this world without you or your people.” Emma’s expression was so nasty that the older woman actually shrunk back from the little girl and had it been a month prior Emma might have accidentally set her ablaze with her unbridled fury.
“I see.” The woman was clearly very annoyed at not getting what she wanted but was also eyeballing the girl’s balled up fists as if she were thinking along the same lines but unsure of exactly how much control a 10 year old could actually possess. Emma expected her to argue again but instead she gave an irate huff of air, turned on her heel and stalked off rather angrily, the younger girl waggling her favorite finger in the air at her turned back and letting out a derisive snort before heading back to the others just glad to finally be rid of her.
* * *
She didn’t remember falling asleep. In fact, she couldn’t remember anything at all after her encounter with the strange woman. However, as her groggy mind worked to comprehend her present situation Emma knew one thing for certain. She was moving.
A thin bed of scratchy hay irritated her skin as the wagon trundled along the bumpy dirt road, muffled voices floating in and out from somewhere outside. Her mouth had been gagged and her hands cuffed behind her, obviously having somehow been drugged.
2 of the hushed voices were deep, masculine. However, there was one higher pitched and dripping with an air of superiority that even in her half conscious state Emma recognized as that abysmal woman from the circus. She had obviously been kidnapped and was currently being taken God only knows where to do God only knows what for some sort of criminal gang.
Emma tugged weakly at her bindings, trying to wriggle around and find something, anything, that could aid her in her escape. She didn’t know exactly how long she had been unconscious but it was already well into the night, the full moon illuminating what little of the passing countryside she could see out the back of the wagon. Emma groaned and felt herself start to succumb to the unknown drugs running through her system once more, relaxing into another dreamless slumber.
It was late into the next afternoon when Emma awoke next, a splitting headache threatening to tear her in two but much more awake this time as the toxins seemed to be leaving her bloodstream. The group had stopped and she could hear the muttered complaints and tell tale clanking sounds of a horse being re-shoed.
The girl tried to wiggle her hands free from their restraints again but the cuffs were exceedingly tight and unyielding. Emma huffed in frustration, yanking uselessly at the rusty chain attaching her cuffs to the wagon. They clearly weren’t taking any chances on her escaping.
As she contemplated how on earth she was going to get out of this one Emma was suddenly pulled from her reverie by the appearance of a curious bird. Emma stopped her fidgeting long enough to meet the obsidian eye of the great blue falcon who had decided to perch itself curiously on the edge of the wagon and was peering at Emma with great interest.
There was something about that strange bird that captured Emma’s undivided attention, and it wasn’t just the oddity of a bird of prey eyeing her up like she was a fat, juicy mouse. There was something.. peculiar about this particular bird and Emma found herself trying to call out to it around the gag in her mouth as it took flight and soared away, disappearing just as quickly as it had appeared.
As the animal disappeared into the forest she let out a sigh and tried to listen in to the conversation outside instead. Someone was still clanking away at an anvil, the other 2 muttering heatedly as if arguing but Emma was unable to make out the exact words exchanged.
Then came the sound of another set of scuffling footsteps from the other side of the wagon as if someone was hurrying towards them out of the woods. Emma lifted her head up out of the hay just as someone new appeared in front of her.
It was a woman. She appeared relatively young with jet black hair pulled into a tight bun at the base of her neck, small spectacles hovering on the bridge of her nose, and she was wearing a rather dated Victorian era dress. Upon first glance Emma could tell she was a stern, matriarchal woman but there was also an air of maternal kindness that she had never seen in her own mother. There was also something slightly familiar about the way the woman looked at her even though Emma knew for a fact that they had never met before.
“I am going to get you out of here ok?” The woman whispered, fiddling with the chains keeping Emma attached to the wagon as quietly as she could.
Her kidnappers were still engrossed in their argument and paid no heed to the subtle clanking noises coming from the back of their wagon. The woman huffed in annoyance when the old chains did not yield, a look of concentrated thinking passing across her face.
“I will be right back.” She gave Emma a look that said ‘I will not leave you’ before striding off around to where the others were and she could hear her speaking animatedly to them.
“Excuse me.”
“Who are you? Wha d’ya want?” One of the men asked haughtily.
“Who I am is of no importance. What is, however, are those keys hanging off your belt loop.”
“She’s a bird.” The woman kidnapper snarled.
Emma was confused by that proclamation. A bird? Was that some sort of group the woman was affiliated with? Emma’s thoughts inadvertently strayed to the blue falcon with the intelligent eyes that had visited her earlier. She couldn’t actually be a bird. That was completely impossible. But weren’t her own fire wielding abilities supposed to be just as impossible?
There was a bit of commotion, scuffling and shouts of confusion. Emma wasn’t sure what she had done or how she had managed to overpower 3 people while wearing a petticoat but the strange woman had reappeared just as quickly as she had gone holding a set of keys.
As soon as she was free Emma jumped from the back of the wagon, still wobbly on her feet from the drugs. As she stumbled after this new stranger they passed right by her band of kidnappers who paid them absolutely no mind to Emma’s utter confusion, the 2 men and their woman companion looking strangely discombobulated as if they couldn’t quite remember what they had been doing in the middle of the woods with a wagon.
Emma scurried along behind the quick paced older woman hoping she knew where they were and potentially how to get back to where her other traveling companions were surely wondering what had become of her by now.
“Excuse me miss but could you tell me how to get back to Newport?” She questioned.
“If that is what you wish. But first I would like to ask you a few questions.” The woman spoke with the air of a school teacher, subtly glancing back at Emma without slowing her stride. Emma was instantly put on alert, feeling particularly untrusting after her little kidnapping adventure. The woman obviously sensed her insecurity and quickly backtracked so as not to scare her into running away.
“Let me first start by introducing myself. I am headmistress Peregrine, or you may call me Miss Peregrine as you are not currently my ward.” Emma furrowed her brow at the way she said ‘not currently her ward’.
“Peregrine? Like the bird?” She asked, again thinking back to the bright blue falcon that had visited her barely a minuet before this woman showed up claiming she possessed the same name.
“Yes. I am going to go ahead and presume that you do not know what you are?”
“I’m sorry? What I am?”
“You can do things others cannot. You are a fire starter if I am correct. You can summon and manipulate fire with nothing but your hands?” Emma was becoming more confused by the minuet and this interaction with a strange woman admitting her interest in the other girl’s magical abilities was looking more and more like the previous interaction by the minuet. She was not getting kidnapped again.
“If you’re here to offer me a job like they did I’m still not interested.” Emma bristled, her palms heating up as she contemplated whether her chances of running or fighting were better in this instant.
“No, I am not here to offer you a job. And neither were they. Not really. They were going to take you back to their domain and sell you to the highest bidder, someone who would use you for your fire wielding abilities.” Miss Peregrine had slowed down to allow the younger girl to catch up, giving her a slightly sympathetic look.
“They were going to sell me? How do you know all of this?”
“Because it is my duty. I am what is called an ymbryne. In our world ymbrynes are tasked with the care of children such as yourself. Special children with special abilities. We are peculiars.” That rang a bell in Emma’s muddled brain. Phineas and Leonora had called her peculiar behind her back at times. Could they have meant something other than the dictionary definition of the word?
“Peculiar.” Emma repeated softly, allowing the word to sink in and feel what it really meant. Something about it felt.. right.
“You said that we are peculiars. Does that mean you can do something others can’t miss?”
“Yes. As an ymbryne I am able to manipulate time, creating time loops for the safety of our kind, removing small snippets of a person’s memory as I did with those 3 snatchers, and as you saw I can also take the form of my namesake.” Emma nodded slowly as she listened, taking in the information as best she could.
“So that really was you earlier? The big, blue falcon?”
“That is correct. Much easier to get around inconspicuously in bird form. Although it is definitely the least interesting part of my ability. Now, I can either point you back towards the circus and you can continue running from dangers both known and unknown or you can come with me back to the island of Cairnholm and I can properly introduce you to the peculiar world.”
“Cairnholm? I’ve never even heard of that island before.” Emma hesitated, worrying her bottom lip between her teeth as she thought about her decision, Miss Peregrine waiting patiently.
“You really aren’t going to sell me?” She asked one last time, wary eyes cutting sideways towards the older woman. Miss Peregrine let out a short laugh but gave her a reassuring look.
“No. You have my word that I will not sell you. All I wish to do is offer you safety, companionship with other peculiar children, and a more comfortable life.” Miss Peregrine sounded sincere and Emma found herself wanting to trust her. Worst case scenario she ran away and found the circus again. Best case scenario she finally finds a family that wants her. She finally nodded her acceptance, falling into step beside the other woman as they marched down the long dirt road towards the sea.
* * *
The trip to the island of Cairnholm was wholly uneventful and the pair arrived within a few short days. Emma wasn’t particularly impressed by the sleepy little village that reminded her so much of Cornwall but it was certainly safe as Miss Peregrine had said, secluded out here in the middle of the ocean with only one little ferry to charter people between it and the mainland once a month. On their journey to the island the matriarch had given Emma much more insight into the world of peculiardom and Emma now not only believed her but found she was rather excited to meet others like her.
No one paid them any attention as they traipsed silently through town and Emma knew they were probably used to seeing new children come through every now and again as Miss Peregrine’s home for peculiar children had been under the disguise of an ordinary orphanage during the war. They believed she was nothing but another poor unfortunate child with no place to call home which was not entirely inaccurate.
As the pair grew closer to the big house stop the hill Emma found herself grinning at the blatantly obvious peculiar children running amok in the front garden, unusual talents on full display while in the safety of their found family.
“Let’s get you settled in and then you can meet everyone. They will all be delighted to see a fresh face and hear new stories.” Miss Peregrine had seen the little girl’s face light up at finally finding others like herself and a warm smile of her own toyed at the corners of her lips. The little fire eater was going to fit right in.
The End
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