#GENUINE MISTAKE GUYS TT thanks for pointing it out!!

[mackerelbones]

welp barbie meme is ded but dusting this old doodle off for posting 🚓

[diddlesanddoodles]

DARKNESS (G/T)

100 GT theme challenge

Continuation of Hide. 

Warnings: Brief and mild mentioning of lady products. And some smoking. Don’t smoke, kids. It’s bad for you.

Gabby was restless, feeling overly warm and sweaty in her cargo pants and navy blue jacket. The night was mild and rather pleasant, but her layers were making her feel overheated and constricted. Trapped. Very trapped. Or perhaps it was simply her own nerves. Probably nerves. Nerves over her situation. Her...stupid and bizarre and very frightening situation. She gulped at the air as she tried to keep the every growing probability of a panic attack at bay, though she had managed some form of dignity throughout the day. From the bizarre meeting with the giant-not-giant-man-guy-thing-dude who called himself Elliot – even though that wasn’t his real name – to the weirdest trip to the grocery store ever, wherein the only items she purchased were a bulk case of tampons, three king sized chocolate bars, a bottle of ibuprofen, and five rolls of aluminum foil. The last one being a suggestion from Elliot.  

Her backpack was stuffed to bursting with her newly purchased wares in addition to her clothing – several shirts, a pair of shorts, two pairs of pants, and five rolls of socks – all expertly rolled up into small tubes so as to make room for as many items as possible. Then there was the mini first aide kit, a pocket knife, a stick of deodorant, her hairbrush, travel sized toothbrush and toothpaste, as well as a bar of Irish spring soap. She had debated rigorously about packing shampoo and conditioner, but a vague recollection of a camping trip in middle school decided her. The last thing she wanted to have to endure on top of all of the craziness was washing shampoo out of all her clothes because the bottles burst. But then of course, she also remembered her wallet. It was a small red faux leather square with only enough room for a few credit cards, some pennies, and a few bills. Made more for ease, style, and size than for practicality. But it held a small family portrait taken just the year prior not long after she had graduated high school. And she was loathe to leave without it.

The address on the business card that Elliot had given her, after a quick google search, revealed itself to be an old bus depot at the edge of Bridgewood. It was away from the bulk of the town, closer to the railway yard. From her spot on the old wooden bench, Gabby could hear the grinding of many wheels and the sound of a train’s horn echoing across the depot like a ghostly wail.

It was late, it was dark, and she was alone. Waiting for someone – or some thing – to come collect her. As quickly as the notion came to mind, she banished it away just as fast. She required no reminding of the circumstances that landed her in such a mess. She attempted to placate herself by drawing circles in the sandy dirt that had long ago broken up the concrete sidewalk. Without a watch or her phone, she was at a loss to tell what time it was. The card instructed her to be at the meeting place at 10:00 PM sharp and once she was packed and ready to go, Gabby was loathe to linger around the sorority house where her state of dress and mood was sure to garner attention and questions.

Best if they know nothing, she reminded herself. Elliot said he would be handling her...disappearance. Or rather, her death. Even though she was remiss to understand how he was going to fake her death if there was no body to…

...oh god she hoped there wasn’t going to be a body.

No, no there would be no body. He had promised her. No one was going to get hurt. Besides, where was the logic in him setting this whole thing up if he was just gonna go kill some random person to stage her death? He was only doing this to keep her from being killed. Her. A total stranger who just happened to have witness him change into a very tall giant-man-dude and then kill a guy. Troll. Troll-guy. Troll-guy-dude. She was beginning to wonder if she had made some horrible mistake by believing Elliot. What if this whole thing was a set up? Oh god...

As she pondered such a horrible notion, the sound of a bell striking startled her from the miasma of her mind. In a panic, she leaped to her feet and jerked her head about every which way in search of the noise’s source. But all she saw was darkness and the orange haze of the town street lights off to her right. She waited with bated breath for the bell to ring again, but when there came no such sound, she carefully eased herself back down onto the bench.

Beside her, the darkness shifted.

“You the kid?” came a gruff voice from the empty darkness.

Gabby squawked indignantly and fell away from the voice and off the bench. Her backpack followed after her. Looking all around, she saw only darkness. Wait...what was that smell? Cigar smoke? Scared and now confused, Gabby began to ease herself up out of the dirt and happened to glance up. There was a dot of orange light, the end of a lit cigar, high above her head. The paltry light of the cigar gave off just enough light to illuminate the face of the being puffing at it. The very large face. The very large face very far up. Gabby opened her mouth to scream, but before she could do anything but squeak, the creature repeated its question.

“So, you the kid or what?”

She choked on her own scream and gaped, unsure how to – or if she should – answer the question. Inanely, she asked. “Uh...kid?”

“Yeah,” replied the giant’s gruff voice, slightly muddled by the cigar between his lips. “The kid.”

“What kid?” she asked.

“The kid kid,” replied the giant impatiently in a voice that sounded vaguely north eastern and pulling the cigar from his mouth. He tapped the end to knock off a wad of ash and tt fell not but a foot from where Gabby lay sprawled in the dirt. “The human kid. The kid I’m waitin’ for. Elliot’s goof up.”

“Oh,” she answered stupidly. “Um...yeah. I guess that would be me.”

“Fantastic,” the giant replied with mock enthusiasm. “Well, let’s get on with it then.”

With that, the giant leaned down and plucked Gabby off the ground as easily and effortlessly as someone picking up a barbie doll. This time, she did scream.

“Oh, whoa! Hey, now!” snapped the giant in confused annoyance. “Stop with the squeakin’ already, kid. This is supposed to be a covert operation, don’tcha know?”

Faced flushed with equal parts fear and mortification, Gabby squirmed around thick digits holding her.

“Dude! Warn a person before you get all grabby and shit!”

“Ah, can it. I ain’t hurin’ ya, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart, jerk face.”

“Well don’t be callin’ me jerk face then, pop-tart.”

“Don’t call me –! Wait, did...did you just call me a pop-tart?”

“Yeah,” replied the giant, one eyebrow arched. “Ain’t that an insult here or somethin’? Thought I heard that once.”

“No. It’s a...uh, type of food.”

“Ah. My bad then,” the giant replied, almost genuinely apologetic. “Just, try to keep yer squeaker on mute, huh? Gonna get us both caught at this rate. And I’m gonna level with ya kid. No ways am I gonna go to the slammer on account’a one’a Elliot’s charity cases.”

Charity case? Well. Gabby would have been offended if she did not think the description apropos. But still.

“How about a trade then,” she offered, a little winded. “I won’t scream as long as you don’t grab me like that again. I can’t help it if I scream when someone I don’t know – a very big someone – suddenly grabs me up in the middle of the night in a very dark abandoned bus depot. Today has been beyond stressful and I am running on almost 100% animal instincts at this point, dude. Er, sir. Dude, sir. Sir dude.”

The cigar light was enough for her to pick up on the slight twitch of the giant’s mouth, an amused smirk. “Got yerself a deal there, sweetheart.”

“Don’t call me sweetheart,” she growled and the belatedly added, with a little more sincerity. “Please.”

He huffed a laugh. “Well, gonna tell me what I should be callin’ ya or should I just settle for pop-tart?”

“Oh. Um, my name,” she stammered, recalling what Elliot had said about names. She had worried  about picking a name that fit both the requirement of being easy to remember and being a name she would instinctual answer to. After a few minutes of deliberation, the answer came to her in a stroke of deceptively brilliant inspiration. Her mother’s name. “It’s Allison. Or Ally. Y’know...for short.”

“Seems to me like yer short enough as it is,” chuckled the giant. “But whatever ya like, kid.”

“So what happens now?” she asked tentatively, swallowing nervously. The shock of abruptly being swept up off the ground was fading and she was beginning to grow acutely aware that she was high up. Being held by a person. A very tall person. A very tall-has-no-business-existing-type-person.

“I do my job,” the giant replied simply.

“Which is…?” she pressed nervously.

The giant’s eyes moved to pin her with a look and Gabby – no, Ally – was aware that perhaps she was pushing her luck.

“A word of advice, Ally,” said the giant, chewing at the end of his cigar. “Don’t be askin’ so many questions. One day you might get an answer yer not too keen on. I do my job, you keep all yer limbs, everyone’s happy and none-the-wiser fer it. That’s all ya gotta know.”

“O-okay,” she replied, trying valiantly to ignore the portion of that statement involving losing limbs. Her limbs. “S-sorry. It’s my first time...being a witness to...stuff. And I’m still kind of freaking out...a little?”

“Just so long as ya keep it down, freak away, Ally.”

“Oh...um. Thanks?”

“So,” said the giant, using his free hand to reach up to his face and pluck the cigar out from between his teeth. “Best we be getting gone before any scabs show up and ruin both of our nights.”

Without another word and without ceremony, he flicked the lit cigar out into dark. It fell in lazy an arch to the ground where it crashed, scattering sparks and ash. The little flecks of orange light failed to settle and fade into the darkness. Instead, they began to dance and swirl around in odd geometric patterns fast enough that their wake created lines that Ally’s eyes could follow. The wind began to pick up and the smell of cigar smoke filled her nostrils and made her cough.

“Wow. That’s...that’s pretty cool,” she said absently, eyes transfixed on the lights. “Really cool.”

The giant chuckled. “It’s just a door.”

“But...it’s all glowey and...how is it doing that? I mean – I know you said no questions, so just mark that a rhetorical. But really, that’s cool. How can you think that isn’t cool? How is that not cool?”

He shrugged. “Ya seen one door, ya seen a million. Oh, that reminds me. Elliot told ya no gadgets right?”

“Gadgets?”

“Yeah. Gadgets. Trinkets. Whatcha-ma-whosits and diddley-bobbers,”At her blank expression, the giant sighed heavily. “That weird metal and glass stuff you humans obsess over.”

“You...you mean technology?”

“Yeah. That stuff. Ain’t got none of that nonsense on ya do ya?”

“Uh, no. Elliot told me to leave it.”

“Good.” When the giant took a step towards the embers, she called out to him. “Oh, wait! My bag!”

“Hm?” He looked down and spotted the sad fat little backpack. “Oh. Sure. Gimme a sec.”

Ally’s entire world tilted and fell as the giant bent down to retrieve the wayward thing and her stomach seemed content to stay nearer the ground when he straightened back up. “Now we good to go?”

“Y-yes. Thank you.”

“Good. Cause I had plans fer t’night before Elliot loaded this mess on me,” said the giant as he stepped into the hectic swirling maze that was the dancing embers.  “So if we’re quick about it, I still might be able to salvage what’s left of it.”

Before Ally could formulate any sort of response, the orange lights began to dance faster and fast, the burning of their lights growing brighter and brighter, banishing away the thick darkness of the night until all she knew was orange light and the overwhelming smell of cigars.