#Moses Casborough

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter One

@authorisada @acutecupidity @fallover19 @ishanijasmin @concealeddarkness13 @xanaphia @willowandsnow @sayaratyriea If you responded to the post but I didn’t tag you, sorry. I tagged who it said responded even though it didn’t add up to the proper amount of notes.

Description if you want it (not needed), Chapter 2

“Cold medicine, probably a good idea for a kid with a cold,” Mandie grabbed the closest generic, “wait,” she put it back, “what if she’s allergic to some of the ingredients.”

“Then I suggest this,” she turned around to see a strange man holding a generic allergy medication, “It shouldn’t interact.”

“Negatively,” she added to the end of his sentence, “Because you want it to interact if you’re dealing with an allergic reaction.”

He bobbed his head in a vague nod. “Noted, although not everyone takes kindly to having their medical suggestions corrected by a total, probably inexperienced, stranger.”

“Not everyone likes medical suggestions given by a total, probably not medically licensed, stranger,” she replied, finally taking the medicine from his hand and putting it in her basket.

“I guess it’s a good thing neither of us are those kinds of people.”

“I guess so.” Mandie grabbed the cold medicine and put it in the basket too.

“Not to be forward,” he said, “but may I know the name of the distressed damsel I’ve now assisted?”

“Points for alliteration,” she said, “and I don’t think you’re being too forward right now.” She put her hand out, “Amanda Piec, but everyone calls me Mandie.”

He shook her hand. “A lovely name.”

“No it isn’t.”

“What makes you so sure?”

Mandie smiled. “That’s exactly what the last guy who tried to flirt with me said.”

“Oh,” he moved his hand behind his head, “How did that go for him.”

“Pretty well,” she bobbed her head a bit, “we have a date on Tuesday.”

He imitated a wound. “I should’ve known you’d be that type of likable person.”

“What type?”

“The type that people do crazy things like try to ask out someone they don’t even know, so they can see them again.”

Mandie put her hand to her heart. “That’s the cutest way I’ve ever been told I’m too cute to be single.”

“That’s not what I–”

“Moses Casborough?”

The man turned around and Mandie looked past him to see one of the older women in the church.

“Hi Miss Sophie,” The man, Moses, said, “How’s Steph?”

“She’s doing well, she’s been moving around with her husband–he’s in the army,” Sophie paused to look at Mandie, “Have you met Miss Mandie?”

“Only a few seconds ago.”

Mandie suddenly noticed Moses’ voice had gone a bit higher pitched since Sophie had shown up, which led to her having to stifle a small giggle.

“Well, she helps in the nursery–though I think she should be in the choir–she has the most beautiful voice, but she only uses it when a kid is especially  impossible…”

Mandie took these moments to actually observe her new acquaintance. He was a bit taller than her, and had dyed black hair–she could see a bit of the blond roots. She hadn’t noticed until then that he was wearing long sleeves, despite the warmer weather. He’d look good in a certain kind of jacket, but she couldn’t think of the name just then.

“...she spaces out like the dickens. In fact I think she’s doing it right now.”

“Huh?” Mandie returned her attentions to the others.

“I’ll leave you two to get to know each other.” Sophie left, smiling in the way she did when she brought childhood sweethearts back together.

Mandie swore internally, Sophie meant well, but she didn’t even know this man. Luckily, he seemed to have a similar thought.

“I actually have a thing I may already be late for, so...” He started backing up, running into one of the shelves, “Nice meeting you.” He turned and walked a little faster towards the exit.

Mandie glanced at her watch. She should’ve left by now.

Nightingale watched everything from her position. It wasn’t hard to imagine her sister saying, “You’ve got a bird’s eye view. Get it? Bird? Nightingale?”. She almost missed the voice in her ear...almost.

Finally a few men showed up. She closed her eyes, letting their words and thoughts come into focus.

“I don’t like it here.” One said, mentally adding, Katie would think of this as a great place.

“And the boss is late.” Another one added, musing, New boss, new town, new crew, what’s next? New boyfriend?

If only he knew. She kept listening for any worthwhile information. None came until “the boss” showed up.

“Sorry I’m late boys, I met a lovely dame and completely lost track of time.”

She opened her eyes, he had to at least look interesting for a phrase like that to come out of his mouth.

A pinstriped suit and pants combo did not disappoint. The rest of him followed the 20s mob boss aesthetic: Fedora, wingtips, etc. the cane had a different feel to it, but she let that slide.

He looked up. He wore a mask. He made eye contact.

That shouldn’t have been possible.

“Excuse me.” He motioned to the nearest goon to came near him.

“What is it boss?” She asked.

“Do you see something white right there.” He pointed at Nightingale. Crap.

“No sir.”

“Do me a favor, and shoot right there for me, please.”

The goon looked at him like he was crazy, but aimed her gun and fired three shots… directly at Nightingale. Tonight was only supposed to be surveillance.

She stifled a laugh at their faces when the bullets froze in front of the goon without a noise.

“You know,” her voice bounced around the building, perfect, “I wasn’t planning on interfering at this stage,” she shot a bullet near the boss’s feet, he flinched, “but since you forced my hand,” another bullet, another flinch, “Guess I’ll have to fire a warning shot early,” another bullet, except this one stopped in front of him--that wasn’t in the plan.

“Care to come down for a proper fight?” The bullet moved to his open hand, he tossed it up a few times.

“Hardly proper if it’s me against all of you,” she laughed, “bring a couple more goons and I’ll consider it.”

“I like a girl playing hard to get, come down here and it’ll be you and me, mano a mano.”

“I’ve got other places to be.” Like spending time with the girl who refused to talk to her.

“But how are you going to get out of here?”

“You didn’t see me come in.” She disappeared.

Actually she jumped through the window above her perch and was still watching.

“Alright men.” The boss began.

“And women,” the goon who tried to shoot her said.

“And women. You can call me the Ace of Spades, everything else doesn’t matter... yet.” He just walked away. That was new.

This guy stopped a bullet, dressed like a mobster, and met his crew just to give them his name. He was decidedly interesting.

She watched him exit the building and get into a car. If she could tail him and find out who he was, half the battle would be over.

Her phone buzzed. What happened.

She took it out and looked at it. What did Liz want?

Keeping one eye on the car, she answered it.

“What’s going on?”

“Hey Amy,” Liz replied.

“Not my name, not even the name I told you not to use for this number.”

“Exactly,” she could practically hear Liz’s head bob like it did everytime she explained something “I don’t have to use your dumb codename, but if someone hacks it, they don’t know who you are.”

“Your one to talk, Liberty Lady.” The car finally moved. She clenched her fist, sensing the response on her suit. Stealth mode was experimental, but her telepathy wasn’t going to work for this guy.

“Touché” Liz replied.

“Are you actually going to tell me why you called?” The car was almost out of her sight. She started moving.

“I’m leaving, because I have a case tomorrow, so you have to come back and take care of your responsibility.”

Nightingale began to object.

“Do you really want to argue with a lawyer about how much you actually do for this place?”

She stopped, everything.

“Good choice, I’ll wait 20 minutes for you and then I’m gone.”

Mandie barely made it home on time.

“I’m pretty sure whatever curfew is, you broke it.” Liz sat on the couch, watching a news special.

“You don’t seem to care that you may have made the difference between life and death for God knows how many people.” Was all Mandie said, taking the remote and turning off the television.

“You’re in the same boat, I’m prosecuting the last guy you took down, he can do as much damage,” Liz got up, heading towards the door, “And also, Helena’s great at pointing out flaws, if she’d only tell me what they were.” She closed the door, a little harder than needed.

Mandie sighed. She wasn’t sure if Liz was right. If she had learned anything tonight, it was that Ace of Spades was different than anyone she’d taken down before. She just didn’t know if that made him more or less dangerous.

[poore-choice-of-words]

I'm going to try to post an actual story with like chapters and stuff on here.

Here's a basic description of the story I'm planning.

Moses Casborough has returned to the town he grew up in, but it's not the happiest return. He's there because his father found him, and wants to use him for some of his more shady dealings. If he doesn't comply, he risks not only his own life, but his sister's.

Amanda Piec has been Nightingale for over ten years now, and her life's changing as much as it did then. She's taking care of a young girl who’s a complete mystery, and a possibly more mysterious "hometown hero" is back in town. If worse comes to worse, she's prepared for a fight, but is she prepared to help a criminal?

So like if you actually find it interesting, reply to this so I can like tag you. Maybe like it, idk, I’ve never done something like this before. There’s romance, superheroes, and a probably more angst than I would like, but writing wise I think I can’t do angst (I probably can, but we’ll see). I’ll keep reblogging this until I post the first chapter or the prologue, idk which.

[poore-choice-of-words]

Write-O-Ween Day 5: Ephemeral

Sorry I’ve been late on these (if any of you care). I’ve been busy with life and haven’t had time to post things. They are written though, so expect more soon.

Writing from a prompt on this list each day of October

Thanks @promptaroonie for the list.

Day 1, Day 2, Day 3, Day 4

“Thanks for coming.” Mandie told Moses.

“No problem,” he told her, “besides, I like Helena.”

“It’s not--”

“And I can tolerate your nephews for one night.”

Mandie didn’t pay attention to him. “It’s just that Speedy hated that I even did this--”

“--Let alone you making him come along.”

“Exactly.”

“It’s still hard for me to think of you dating a professional d--”

There’s a kid here, Mandie reminded him.

“--Jerk,”

Helena tapped Mandie on the shoulder.

“Oh yeah, we’re here.” Mandie halted the vehicle a bit too quickly.

As they walked up to the giant house, Moses stopped them.

He turned to Helena, putting out an enclosed fist. In her hands dropped a charm bracelet.

“A little birdie told me it was someone’s birthday today.”

Out of the corner of his eye, he could see Mandie smiling her “secretly thinks that was cute” smile.

“There’s another charm next year,” he told Helena as he watched Mandie’s smile get bigger.

Helena ran up to knock on the door, but it opened before she could.

“Hey Mandie,” Catherine greeted her sister, “Good to see you again Moses.”

“Likewise.”

“I’ll take Helena to the game-room with Harold and Faraday,” Catherine took Helena’s hand, “I’ll let Mandie tell you our treat-route.”

They watched as Catherine took her up the stairs.

“Thanks again for doing this.” Mandie told him.

“Thanks for asking,” He put his arms on hers, “it’s nice to know you trust me alone with Helena.”

“You’ll be with Catherine.”

“I mean without you.”

“Oh,” She moved her arms to his neck, “I’d still like to give you something in return.”

“I couldn’t possibly--”

Her lips were on his. He barely had time to register what was happening before someone knocked on the door.

Mandie released, “I got it.”

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter 6

Whoo! It’s been awhile. But hopefully chapter seven wil come sooner than this one. Enjoy!

First, Last

...

He was late. Luckily, most people didn’t go to ice cream at one in the afternoon. Scratch that. A lot of people went to ice cream in the afternoon, unluckily. That was why there weren’t any parking spaces. He was sure his running speed to get there was better than his record in highschool, not that it was much of a record, but still.

This was the second time in as many days he’d literally bumped into Mandie.

“Hi.” he heaved a breath. “Fancy seeing.” Heave. “You here.” Heave. “Sorry I bumped in.” Heave. “To you.”

Helena was glaring at him, and was that laughter Mandie was suppressing?

“Hi.” She said, from behind a hand.

Definitely suppressing laughter.

“Hi,” He replied.

“You already said that.”

“Did I?”

Helena nodded. Moses decided to lift himself up so he was face to face with Mandie instead.

“Nonetheless, I insist upon buying both of you your Ice Cream as pardon for my transgression.” He bowed so that once again he was at eye-level with Helena.

“I accept your offer.” Mandie offered him a hand to get back up with, which he gladly took.

Helena looked skeptical.

“Think she suspects anything?” He whispered.

“Only what you just confirmed.” Mandie said.

Helena was squinting at him.

He bent down to be at eye-level her. These squats were going to help him work off that ice cream.

“I’m not gonna lie to you. I asked for you two to come here. I’m paying for your ice cream whether you like it or not. Then you can kick me out of the store.” He put his hand out for a shake.

Helena shook it, then pointed at her eyes and back at him.

“Gotcha.” He nodded for a bit before standing up. “Is this line ever going to move?”

“Lend me your arm?” Mandie asked. There was mischief in the tone that Moses ignored.

“Here you go.” He offered an elbow.

Mandie grabbed his wrist and leaned back, taking his arm, and nearly taking him, with her. He caught on quickly enough to hold his ground, otherwise he would’ve fallen on Mandie, and Helena might’ve kicked him out before they even got in the store.

They held themselves like that for a few moments, until she lifted herself up, making him stumble back. Then he noticed they were now holding hands. She was wearing gloves again, white silk, or some imitation. It was quite soft against his skin, and the gloves didn’t cover past her wrist, which he had been grasping onto while she’d been hanging.

He quickly released, realizing he’d had skin contact with her for more than a second and didn’t learn every one of her thoughts in his head for any amount of that time.

“How?” he looked at his hand. From the corner of his eye, Mandie seemed betrayed? Was that the word?

“There seems to be a couple, or a pair of siblings gumming up the line.”

“Do you always do that lean back thing?” He turned to Helena, “Does she always do that leanback thing?”

Helena shrugged.

“It’s not uncommon,” Mandie answered.

“Can you give a heads-up next time?”

“What makes you so sure we’re ever going to end up in a line together again?”

“Maybe it’s just a hope.”

Mandie half-smiled, then went into a straight face. Did she suddenly dislike him? Why had she come then? Was free ice-cream that irresistible an offer? Of course it was, it was ice cream.

“I’m getting the sense you don’t want to end up in a line together anytime soon. Would that be a warranted assumption?”

Mandie pulled her ponytail in front of her and began stroking it.

“What are you doing here, in town?”

He should have thought of an excuse before now. He was frozen for long enough that no matter what he said, she wouldn’t believe. Maybe he could use that to his advantage.

“I’m working for a secret organization to capture Nightingale, and I’m using you in an attempt to learn her secret identity.”

Mandie looked hurt, and scared, betrayed, that was the word.

“I swear that was a joke! I’m sorry. Has that actually happened before?”

“You wouldn’t be the first operative to fail at seducing Amanda Piec,” Spectrum commented in his head. He hoped it was just a memory and not the real Spectrum.

Back in the real world, the real Mandie looked at him with pity, and possibly laughter. Had he been played?

“I’ve actually been doing temp work for... a lot of places.” He was great at making excuses.

Mandie finally outright smiled. She bought it, or she didn’t care.

“Maybe I should call your company sometime. I could use some help.”

“With what?”

“I’ve always got packages that need delivering. I actually had to make a stop to send a package before we got here.”

Helena made a thumbs-down motion and a pouty face.

“What’s that supposed to mean?”

“It means she doesn’t like waiting in the car.” Mandie turned her head. “Oh look, the line’s moved.”

She grabbed Helena’s hand and moved forward. The line kept steadily moving forward since apparently everyone had now figured out exactly what they were going to have. Moses should’ve thought about it. He was sure he didn’t want chocolate because chocolate was the worst ice cream flavor, except for maybe grape, but that wasn’t an ice cream flavor, yet.

“Why didn’t you want to hold my hand?” Mandie asked.

“What?”

“This isn’t middle school, and I thought you…”

She was right. This wasn’t middle school. If this were middle school, he’d be rushing into stuttered apologies. Instead, he waited a moment before stuttered apologies.

“It’s, uhh.”

Helena smacked his leg. He looked down at her, and she pointed at the counter, where the guy at the counter looked weary.

“Oh, sorry!”

…

They managed to get their ice cream, Helena hadn’t told Moses to scram, and Mandie asked to sit outside.

Overall things were looking okay.

“So you design for Nightingale?” He couldn’t think of a better question to start the ball rolling.

Mandie had an expression that said she was tired of that question, but ready to oblige an answer.

“I design for the entire Heroes’ Guild, but since we live in the same city, yes, Nightingale is my most common in-person customer.”

There were so many questions Moses could ask about Nightingale, but that was just the thing. He was talking to Mandie right now, not Nightingale. He needed to ask a question more about Mandie.

“Why white?”

That was still a Nightingale question, but it was also a Mandie question.

“It’s what she wore that first night.”

“First night?”

“Nightingale was Nightingale before I made the costume, and the first night she saved was in a white tank-top and a pair of jeans.”

“Seriously?”

“Still amazing, I assure you.”

“I don’t doubt it. You don’t wear white all the time without skill.”

Jeans? what made her switch to a skirt?

“Yeah, she has skill. She’s… perfect.”

Nightingale wasn’t the best conversation subject. She seemed to leave Mandie with longing. Moses stored the skirt question for later.

“Not that I doubt your skills, but why you?”

“What?”

Was she offended? Moses was screwed.

“Why of all the people in the world did Nightingale ask you to make the costume, or did you volunteer.”

“Well, most people who know me know I make my own clothes.”

Moses took a moment to look at Mandie’s outfit, a light pink dress with blue and purple flowers that looked embroidered onto the skirt.

“You made that?”

She nodded.

“Wow.”

“I make clothes for superheroes, and the dress get’s a wow.” Mandie was sarcastic, but she was also smiling.

“Yes! Most people don’t fully process big stuff, but this dress is right in front of me, and it’s beautiful by the way.”

“You don’t need to exaggerate for me.”

“I’m not, did you hand embroider the skirt or…?”

“I use a special machine, but I did design it.”

“See? I need to ask you for style tips.”

“I think you clean up well enough.”

Moses didn’t have a response. Mandie had cornered him in compliment combat.

“Thanks.”

He could feel himself blush. Maybe he wouldn’t seduce Mandie, but if he kept this up, she’d manage it on him.

…

Maybe Moses should have asked if Nightingale had any tips for superheroes just starting out. The closest he’d seen Nightingale to being tied up like this was when he was pointing a cane at her neck.

The worst part wasn’t that the chains were definitely power suppressant, which meant these thugs had a bigger budget than he initially thought. The worst part was that he probably wasn’t going to get Nightingale’s trust to help her if he couldn’t even help himself.

“Looks like someone fancies himself a superhero,” said thug number one, in what sounded like a very fake british accent.

“Looks like someone fancies himself a Beatle,” Moses retorted, getting a punch from the nearest thug for the comment.

“Maybe he just fancies one hero in particular.” They all had that probably fake accent, he knew because they all laughed in the accent too.

“You got me, I wanted to see Black Dragon, but I think I got the wrong town. Do you have a local hero associated with a particular neutral color?”

Thug number one was about to hit him again, when a familiar sultry voice interrupted.

“Now, Anders, that’ll make it much harder to get out on good behavior this time.”

Moses squinted in an attempt to find her in the rafters. Either she was behind him, or the suppressant was messing with his ability to see her.

“Who said I'm going to jail again, Katie?”

Katie? How did this minor crook know Nightingale's name.

“Nobody, because they don't have to.”

So maybe she hadn't been flirting with him as Ace of Spades, not that he thought she had. She just seemed to have a way of talking to her enemies, a way that could be interpreted a flirtatious.

“Is it my turn to comment?” Moses asked, “cause it sounded like you just got owned.”

No response, even a single laugh.

“Start struggling if you can fight.” He heard in the back of his head. The voice sounded like Mandie plus the voice in the back of his head that he never listened to. He was going to listen to it this time. 

His struggling looked more like trying to spin in mid-air than proper struggling, but hopefully the point got across to Nightingale, if she was the one he'd heard.

After a few excruciating seconds while Anders kept talking, he felt something hit his hand. He grabbed it, and felt the ridges of a key’s teeth. He felt for the lock with both his hands as Nightingale came down to the ground.

She took off the skirt to reveal an equally white pair of pants. He wasn't sure what he expected, but it wasn't that. The deployed skirt, which now looked more like a blanket, took two of the thugs out, pinning them to a wall.

He managed to get the key in the lock and turn it. He had to struggle a bit more to get out, but when he did, he punched the nearest thug, who glared at him.

Maybe that wasn't the best method. The next time he punched, he pushed at the thugs mind to knock him out.

“Don't use that on Anders, I need him awake.”

“Why?”

“Focus.”

She sounded irritable.

The next thug came running at Moses. He turned out of the way and pushed them to the wall. They looked back at him afterwards and attacked. He felt a pressure that the thug definitely felt more of since it pushed them into the wall again, this time knocking them out.

“Show off.” He said, aloud.

Nightingale glared, although the masked covered her eyes in dark lenses, which meant he couldn’t actually tell if she was glaring, but there was a feeling.

“Did I accidentally interfere in a lovers quarrel?” Anders asked.

“We’re not lovers,” Nightingale said.

“And who said we were quarreling?”

They both took a step towards Anders. Nightingale was closer, but Moses opted against closing the gap between her and himself.

“What do you want to know?” Anders grumbled, without the accent this time.

“I need some information on Ace of Spades.”

So Anders was a snitch, probably a good one, if snitches could be good.

“Word is the guy used to run with the suits.”

“As in the four suits?”

So Nightingale knew who they were. Moses was almost flattered. He wasn’t sure if he felt more or less flattered that she seemed to flinch when Anders responded.

“Yeah, then the guy disappears for half-a-year and comes back with the suit and cane.”

He was gone for six months? It hadn’t felt that long, it felt longer.

“And that’s all you got?” Nightingale asked, bringing Moses back to reality.

Anders shrugged. “The guy’s new--wait, some people are saying he’s a reincarnate of Inferno.”

“Dante Gionelli?”

“Yeah, that’s the one.”

“The guy with a house full of booby traps?” Moses asked.

“Do I need to repeat myself to you?”

Moses turned to Nightingale. “I don’t think he likes me.”

“Go figure.” She turned to Anders. “Nothing else?”

“Come back when he’s been around for more than a month and maybe I’ll have something. This guy is different.”

Nightingale seemed to stew for a moment.

“Fine.”

…

Moses had followed Nightingale to the roof. Since she hadn’t stopped him, he assumed she didn’t want him gone. At least not yet.

“I don’t really plan on leaving so--”

“What’s your code name?” She asked.

“My what?”

“Call sign, title, superhero name. What is it?”

Before thinking about it, Moses admitted, “I never thought about it until this moment.”

“Take your time.”

He didn’t take much. Truly he’d been thinking about this for awhile, and one corny name remained.

“Do you mind if I spin off of you a little, I mean, I’m starting in your town, but I don’t wanna encr--”

“Go right ahead.”

“Alright, since you’re a Nightingale, heard but rarely seen, then I’ll be a Peregrine, fast and fearsome.”

Nightingale laughed.

“I’m sorry, it was just, so dramatic.”

Peregrine couldn’t help but smile at managing to make her laugh.

“If you’re going to stick around you’ll need a costume.” She switched to business.

Moses looked at his current outfit.

“A good costume.”

“Now that’s just mean.”

Nightingale smirked.

“Give me your measurements next time we talk.”

“When will that be?”

“Are you free tomorrow night?”

“I can be.”

“Good.”

She walked away, about to jump onto the next roof.

“Where are we going to meet?” Moses asked just before she leapt.

“Don’t worry, I’ll find you.”

...

Tag List:  @lynn-iswriting, @kaylewiswrites, @taz-writes, @theshadowsofthenight, @merigreenleaf, @lady-redshield-writes, @concealeddarkness13, @authorisada, @cadewrites, @elizabethwillow, @writing-in-mermish, @royalbounties

[poore-choice-of-words]

How far would your protagonist(s) be willing to go to protect their loved one(s) and/or attain their deepest desires? Would they be willing to sacrifice others? Themselves?

Thanks for the ask!

Randomly determined WIP for this ask is Nightingale and Peregrine! Which has two protagonists!

Mandie tries to think about the greater good, but no matter how much good she can do, she will always put herself in harm's way before those she cares about.

Moses' entire Arc is about this. Moses is willing to sacrifice people if it means keeping his family safe, but he knows deep down some of his family isn't good people, so he has to decide which is the better choice.

[poore-choice-of-words]

Random Nightingale and Peregrine Fact!

In a fight without powers, Mandie wins.

With powers, they're more evenly matched, since Moses prefers to keep enemies just outside a five foot radius and that's the range Mandie prefers to fight in.

Tag list: @lynn-iswriting , @kaylewiswrites , @taz-writes , @theshadowsofthenight , @merigreenleaf , @lady-redshield-writes , @concealeddarkness13 , @authorisada , @cadewrites , @elizabethwillow , @writing-in-mermish , @royalbounties

[poore-choice-of-words]

For the OC ask, about your two favorite characters at the moment : 2: Post a line of dialogue from your OC. 14: What is one of your OC’s secrets?

Thanks for the ask! I couldn't pick favorites, so I used my usual methods to pick Moses, from Nightingale and Peregrine, and Chase, from The Odd Cases of Juliet Emery.

2: Post a line of dialogue from your OC.

Moses, from N&P chapter I'm currently working on:

“Hi.” he heaved a breath. “Fancy seeing.” Heave. “You here.” Heave. “Sorry I bumped in.” Heave. “To you.”

Chase:

"... what better way of making friends than solving a murder?”

4. What is one of your OC's secrets?

Moses: He hides his knowledge. He always knows more than he lets on. He also hides that he's an impulsive idiot, but most people find that out pretty quickly.

Chase: He hides his real name, and his past, and his age. Otherwise, he's an open book.

[poore-choice-of-words]

Moses (from Nightingale and Peregrine), Courtesy of @sangled He probably wouldn't actually wear this much black, but...

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter 5

First, Last, Next

I guess this isn’t exactly an exciting chapter, but it was fun for me, and there’s a cameo from Apprentices! (That isn’t Helena!)

Enjoy!

Mandie wondered why she didn’t feel like crying. This was far from her first breakup, and definitely not the first time she'd dumped someone else, but this was the first time she didn't really have a mourning period, just a light sense of relief. Maybe her subconscious had just been readying for the inevitable.

She took a moment before opening the door to her house. It was weird thinking of it that way, only a month or two ago she lived in a single bedroom apartment, and Helena wasn't even a part of her life. Everything was new, and she was losing pieces of the old each day, which she wasn't sure was a bad thing. She finally opened the door.

“I'm home!”

Helena ran right into her.

“Oof. Has Misty been that awful?”

She felt Helena shake her head into her torso.

Misty slid into the room at the mention of her name, poofy black hair moving into her face. She was even darker than Helena, but lighter in general mood.

“Mandie, I thought you were--”

“Change of plans, anything with Speedy is cancelled.”

Helena squeezed Mandie tighter.

“Is that good or bad?”

She didn't actually need an answer. Helena's radiating joy and relief was all Mandie needed.

“Why didn't I notice how much you hated him?”

“She doesn't exactly communicate, does she?” Misty answered.

“Or maybe we just don't listen enough.”

Mandie got down to Helena’s level and pushed her away for the sake of eye-contact. “How would you feel if we just hung out tonight?”

Helena beamed.

“Does that mean…”

“You’re free to stay, Misty.”

“No, it’s fine, I had a friend thing actually, well roommate thing, and roommate’s sister, and roommate’s sister’s roommate, and roommate’s--”

“Go, enjoy your time with your peers.”

“Thank you!” Misty ran out the door, barely remembering to close it.

“Now,” Mandie looked Helena in the eyes again, “What are we going to do first?”

Helena ran to the movie case. Mandie prepared herself to reject some of her favorite films because they weren’t appropriate for eight year olds.

…

Helena didn’t want to go to sleep, and Mandie almost didn’t want to put her to bed, but if anything, the bonding session emphasized the need to get rid of Ace of Spades. Telepaths were dangerous, and if this one found out about anyone she cared for, Mandie would never forgive herself. However, she hadn’t gotten any information back from her sister about who Ace might be, so she spent the night in her workshop, forgetting to go to her room to sleep.

…

Mandie was in a forest where she didn't recognize anything. It smelled wrong. It barely had a scent at all. She couldn't turn her head, but in each corner of her eyes, she could see her nephews, Harold and Faraday, each standing still but seemingly struggling against it.

This was a dream, a nightmare, but not Mandie’s. The only way she was getting out of here was if she died or whoever was dreaming woke up.

“Harold,” a voice whispered, echoing throughout the forest.

Harold screamed until he was silent.

“Faraday,” The voice whispered.

Faraday didn’t scream, so this time Mandie could hear what sounded like the earth swallowing him.

“Mandie.”

Everything was dark, and Mandie was falling.

…

She was awake, and it was probably too early in the morning for her to actually wake up.

“Camera, could you call my sister for me?”

“Of course.”

Mandie waited for a few minutes until she heard, “I’m sorry.”

“No, it’s fine, it’s not like I have life plans your nightmares interfere with.” She lifted her head up from the desk. “What’s up?”

“Aside from the nightmares, Faraday’s adjusting well, and my city is fine, so I was able to run through the database to find psychics in your area.”

“Hit me.”

“I’ve already sent you the files, I also added the people who haven’t registered their addresses just in case, because I doubt a criminal would actually register their address with the government database designed to help law enforcement find superhuman criminals.”

She was right, and Mandie was glad to be saved the hassle.

“You are my favorite sister.”

“I’m your only sister. By the way I heard you broke up with Speedy, so congratulations.”

“Thanks. Any names on the list you think I should look out for?”

“Well one of them used to work with Diana, so you may know her.”

“Emily Casbourough-James?”

“Yes, but also, she has two people who share her maiden name on the list of those with unregistered addresses.”

“Show me.”

Mandie turned to the monitor, where a familiar face appeared, and another one people may have mentioned.

“Moses is unregistered?”

“Oh, so you know the guy, and don’t say it so condescendingly, we’ve both been unregistered for portions of our lives, it’s not mandatory, it’s just like a shortcut that shaves off a few minutes to find a perp.”

Mandie wasn’t trying to say it condescendingly. She was just surprised.

“The other one, Elizabeth, she’s been mentioned in a few circles.”

“Like your knitting group?”

“Don’t sound so condescending. That’s where I got the pattern for Harold’s baby-blanket. And yes, they’ve mentioned her. She’s Emily’s daughter, sweetheart of the town, and, theoretically, a witch.”

“Well she’s in the Empowered database, so they’re not wrong, just racist.”

“They mean she used her powers to manipulate the majority of the town.”

“In satanic rituals where she seduced the devil, right?”

“By getting in their heads, and still having a presence after having left over a decade ago.”

“And what’s the best buy date on your info-locks?”

“3-7 years depending on psychic resilience.”

“Wow. Weren’t you like the best ever?”

“Madman said I had one of the strongest minds of my generation, so take it how you will.”

“I take it as--oh hi sweetie.”

“Hey mom,” Harold said, “can you help me get cereal?”

“Of course, and we can get back to working on the project.”

The phone didn’t actually catch it, but Mandie could practically hear Harold’s fistpump of excitment.

“Sorry Mandie, emergency.” Catherine hung up.

“I understand.”

She decided to leave her basement and check whether or not she was willing to wake up based on the light.

…

It was bright enough for her to stay up, with enough coffee. She would wait for Helena to wake up on her own. In the meantime she’d check her voicemails for any jobs.

The first was from someone who’s phone voice Mandie almost knew better than their face-to-face voice. “Hey Mandie, Berserker ripped his trenchcoat again, in half, just to prove a point. Could you send the spare you probably already have made.”

Mandie grabbed her notepad.

-Send Alyssa spare, make new coat

Before she could listen to the next one, Moses called. New revelations made her wary of their budding friendship. She let it ring twice before answering.

“Amanda Piec, how may I help you?”

“Hey, Mandie I just thought of the best cure for post-breakup depression.”

“What?”

“Ice-cream, how’d you like to bring Helena over to Monty’s this afternoon and I’ll pay.”

“So you’re joining us as I mourn my past relationship?”

“Yes. When you put it like that my offer to pay does make it sound like I have a strong desire to be a rebound.”

“Do you?”

“Maybe”

On the one hand, Moses could be the Ace of Spades. On the other, this was a good chance to get to know him better and figure out if he was Ace of spades.

“Helena’s probably not going to like you being there.”

“Helena doesn’t seem to like anyone, really.”

“Not easily, no, but she hasn’t had the best relationship with people, so you can’t really blame her.”

“Crappy foster families?”

“Something like that.”

“Okay, how about we meet at one-o-clock and I act surprised you’re there and insist I pay for both of you.”

If nothing else, he was charming, and Mandie was so ready to say yes. She weighed her options for a moment.

“Deal.”

...

Tag list:  @lynn-iswriting, @kaylewiswrites, @taz-writes, @theshadowsofthenight, @merigreenleaf, @lady-redshield-writes, @concealeddarkness13, @authorisada, @cadewrites, @elizabethwillow, @writing-in-mermish

[poore-choice-of-words]

Happy Saturday! Which of your OCs is the most reckless?

Happy Saturday to you too! Answering for Nightingale and Peregrine.

The most reckless between Mandie and Moses WIP pulls probably be Moses. You can tell Mandie knows what she can and can't do. You also see Moses consistently doing stupid things that end bad for him.

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter 4

First, Last, Next

The real villain, flirting, sleight of hand (mind?), flirting, memory lane, flirting. All that and more in this exciting(?) chapter of Nightingale and Peregrine!

Maybe Moses should have listened to the piece of advice “don’t try to fight the hero.” If he had, then maybe he wouldn’t be fighting a headache, or still be feeling pain in his stomach from where she punched him.

The phone rang just as he got into his apartment.

“Who is this?”

“Did you learn your lesson, Spade?”

He let out a grunt as he sat down on the chair. “Don’t swing a cane at someone shortly after you’ve learned their name?”

“Listen before you act.”

A fancier iteration of what Moses had said.

“What did you call me for, Spectrum?”

“You lost your cane.”

“I’m lucky I didn’t lose any teeth, you sent me blind against a terror.”

Spectrum took his time to respond. He was probably trying to find a way to sound cold in response to that.

“I sent you there to get me Nightingale, I assumed your instincts would serve you well in these attempts.”

Spectrum was full of BS, and if Moses didn’t have an intense desire to sleep, he would have told him so. Instead he offered a new plan.

“I’ve found someone with a connection to Nightingale.”

Spectrum laughed, at least that’s what Moses believed he was doing, but you never know.

“You wouldn’t be the first operative to fail at seducing Amanda Piec.”

“Who said anything about seduction? Besides, I’m probably the first to have a mutual friend.” He hung up. He’d probably deal with consequences for it, but right now he needed to sleep.

…

Moses dedicated Monday to resting off his headache, and Tuesday was his chance reacquaint himself to his hometown. At least it would have been, if he hadn’t run into Mandie, literally.

“Sorry! I should have--”

“No, it’s fine,” he said, “I was focusing on the buildings and not the sidewalk.”

Mandie looked a bit skeptical.

“I wanted to get reacquainted to my hometown.”

“Oh, is it going well?”

“Overall, yeah, you?”

She looked down for a second, so the answer was likely a no.

“Let’s just say I canceled my plans for the night.”

Plans for the night--oh.

“You mean with the guy who--yeah, those plans? Why?”

Mandie giggled. At least Moses’ jumbled words had a benefit.

“Let’s just say he and I had a... disagreement over Helena.”

“Does he think he loves her more?”

More looking down. Wasn’t he supposed to befriend her?

“He thinks adoption ruins a marriage, and I think we haven’t even talked about marriage.”

Moses first instinct was to ask “What the fuck?” but wasn’t sure swearing would make friends. He did notice they were right by the entrance of a coffee shop, which wasn't there when he was younger.

“What do you usually get here?” He asked.

“The Nightingale, why?”

“And which one is your recent ex?”

The man she pointed at looked tall, and of muscular build. Moses hoped his plan wouldn't lead to a fist fight. He believed in his skills, but not enough to end unscathed. His abdomen still hurt from Nightingale's singular punch.

“Stay here, please.”

Moses stepped inside the shop, surprised at the lack of pungency. He found his target and moved toward him.

“Was that your girl who just walked out?”

The man chuckled. “If you can call it walking.”

“What do you mean?” This seemed like the guy who would be occupied for a while with a singular complaint.

“Well first off…” Moses didn't listen past that, instead focusing on the wallet he'd noticed. He nodded occasionally as he slowly telekinetically moved it out of the pocket, then quickly into his own hand. The guy didn't seem to notice.

Moses waited for him to finish talking.

“It must be tough losing a pretty one like that.”

“It is.”

Moses hated this guy already.

“You know what, let me buy you coffee.”

“Who am I to refuse something free?”

The man got up and the two of them got in line.

“By the way, I never got your name.” Moses told the guy.

“Martin Mulrigger, but my friends call me Speedy.” He put his hand out for a shake.

“Moses Casborough, and I don't have a nickname.” He shook the extended hand.

“What'll it be boys?” A woman with long red hair in a braid almost identical to Nightingale's the night before asked them. Would she be so obvious?

“I'll have a Liberty Lady Electron.” Speedy said.

“And two Liberty Lady Nightingales.” Moses added.

He took out the wallet and paid with a twenty. He stuffed the change in the tip jar, as well as all the cash in the wallet except for three ones, then the wallet on top.

“Why did you do that?”

Moses shrugged. “Not my wallet.”

Speedy laughed. They grabbed their drinks and headed out where Mandie was standing. Moses handed her one of the drinks in his hands and stood next to her to watch the gears turn in Speedy’s head.

Speedy ran back inside.

“We should probably go,” Mandie said.

“Good plan.”

Mandie grabbed him at the point his sleeve began, taking him across the street into a flower shop he recognized.

“He'll never look here.” Mandie had an expression like she just got away with something bad. He wasn’t sure if they had.

“No offense Mandie, but you don’t seem like the anti-flowers type of girl.” He took a flower from behind him and tucked it behind her ear.

“I’m not offended, but,” she removed the flower, “you’re being a bit forward.”

He waited a moment before taking it back. He hadn’t realized she was wearing gloves too, and he liked looking at the lace on her hand.

“You’re still going to pay for that.”

Moses turned to see his high school’s mascot of his four years.

“Elliot Stuart?”

Elliot’s jaw dropped.

“Moses Casborough?”

“In the flesh.” He opened his arms for a hug, which Elliot gave him.

When they separated Elliot finally noticed who Moses was with.

“You know Ms. Piec?”

“She’s a friend of my mom’s.”

“And you guys came in here because…”

Moses looked at Mandie.

“Because Speedy confuses Empowered Sensitive with allergenic sensitive.” She explained.

Mandie had superhuman senses. Speedy thought she had hay fever. She hadn’t sneezed yet.

“Speedy’s a douche.” Elliot said.

“Elliot.”

“Professionally.”

Moses looked at Mandie.

“He hosts a radio show.”

“So Elliot’s not wrong.”

Mandie just glared.

“Too soon?”

“It hasn't even been an hour.”

Maybe flirting wasn’t the best plan at the moment.

Mandie’s eyes flicked outside the window for a brief second.

“He left,” she said. Moses suddenly realized how close they were when she backed away and left the shop.

Mandie was a curious case, one that definitely piqued Moses’ curiosity.

“You like her,” Elliot said in the most middle school voice possible.

“I--maybe.”

“How long have you known her?”

“I met her at Joe’s on Saturday.”

“You haven’t even known this girl for four days?”

“You know men, it doesn’t take much for us to fall.”

“You’re still paying for the flower.”

Moses sighed.

“How much?”

“How much do you have.”

“I stole a person’s wallet to buy coffee.”

“Twenty?”

“Yeah.” He reached into his back pocket and took out a twenty dollar bill. “You know me too well.”

Elliot stuffed the cash into his apron pocket. “You were the worst influence of my formative years, I should know you.”

“I wouldn’t call myself the worst.”

“Eliz was a saint compared to you, and you know it.”

“Most people who’ve met us think the mind-controller is the better twin. I wonder why that is.”

“Is that bitterness I detect in your tone?”

“Yes.”

Moses had realized his sister was manipulative early on. The issue was she was so good at it that still nobody had realized it.

…

“It takes nothing, really,” Eliz threw another ball up for Moses to stop, which he did, “it's a little seed that I plant that will make anyone ignore me, or see nothing but me.”

“Is that why Callyn tripped over a lunch table yesterday?” Moses released the energy holding the ball above Eliz’s head, dropping it on her.

“Ow.” She rubbed her forehead where the ball had landed, “if you must know, his attention was focused on you. I made sure of it.”

Moses recalled one of the rare visits of his mother's old friends. She normally didn't even let them near the house. What was the name one of them called her? Placebo: a fake pill, a fake feeling, beneficial manipulation.

“Do you want to be the kind of mother who doesn't let her children meet the people she worked with?”

“Do you like sounding like Max?” She threw the ball up again. “Besides, my children will love me too much for me to care.” Moses threw the ball on her stomach this time. “Oof.”

“And why would your situation be any different from Mom's, or are you too stupid to remember you can't read her mind, but she can read yours?”

“She peaked. I'm reaching her, and soon I'll surpass her.”

“You sound like a psychopath.”

She threw the ball at his face. He stopped it.

“Take it back!”

“As your twin brother, I'm morally obligated to tell you this sort of thing. It's in the twin brother contract.”

“Is there a twin sister contract?”

“Not for psychopaths.”

She dove at him. He couldn’t stop her, but he could shove her off and hold her in the air.

“Put me down!”

He released the energy around her, and she fell on the floor.

“I hate you.”

“You're just projecting.”

…

After an argument on the the moral fiber of his estranged sister, Moses left Elliot’s shop $20 poorer. He didn’t notice any more distractions on his way back to the apartment. Inside the apartment, however, sat a familiar blond haired gentleman.

“We didn’t finish our conversation.”

Moses turned to the door and locked it before turning back and responding, “did you wait for me to leave my apartment so you could have your dramatic not-entrance?”

“I figured it was better not to disturb your rest.”

“And you didn’t want me to know you can knock.”

Spectrum’s eyes dilated briefly, then returned to normal. The ability that didn’t affect Moses.

“I wanted your feedback on a certain idea I had.”

An idea that Moses probably couldn’t say no to.

“Shoot.”

“I want you to go after Nightingale on a third front, with Ace of Spades being the first front and pursuing Miss Piec being the second.”

“You didn’t need to spell it out for me.” Moses finally sat down. “What third front?”

“I chose you because, like Nightingale, you are a skilled psychic.”

“Telekinetic.” He didn’t have skill when it came to telepathy.

“Fine. The point is, you already bear a connection to her that would have been impossible for any of the other operatives.”

“Are you trying to say you want me to seduce Nightingale somehow?”

Spectrum smirked in a way that made Moses want to squirm. “Who said anything about seduction? I just need you to make her trust you.”

“I’m not against playing damsel-in-distress if I need to, but how do you propose I make her trust me?”

“We've studied Nightingale since before the public knew she existed.”

“Sure, I’ll say that, nothing wins a girl’s heart like sounding stalkerish.”

The dilation again. Spectrum knew it didn’t work, so it must be instinctual.

“She had a partner once. We believe this partner was one and the same as Electron’s infamous partner.”

“You think she worked with Static before Static was Static.”

“In so many words. We also believe Nightingale hasn’t had a proper partner since Static left her for Electron.”

Moses couldn’t keep himself from laughing.

“You make this sound like a soap opera.”

Spectrum ignored him and continued, “We want you to become Nightingale’s new partner, convince her you’re a hero.”

Moses was having a lot of fun poking holes in this plan.

“How am I supposed to convince her I’m a hero?”

“We’re willing to lose any amount of shipments to get rid of this thorn in our side. Besides, she’s the only reason we value this town anymore.”

“You were here before she was, though.”

“Of course, there was something before her that piqued our interest, but it’s moved locales.”

Moses wasn’t sure if Spectrum realized he’d increased his focus on Moses. It would make sense that he and his sister may be of interest, but that made him wonder how long the Coven had kept eyes on them.

“Is there anything else I have to do to play superhero?”

“Costume, name, and technique is up to you, but you will be compensated for your efforts.”

“So the answer to my question is, I have to do everything.”

“Yes.” Spectrum’s eyes dilated again.

Suddenly Moses’ door was kicked open. He turned around to spot two suits, one of whom put his hand to the door, making it repair itself in moments. Moses turned back to Spectrum.

“Did it take them that long to realize it wasn’t reinforced?”

A simple hit to the head told Moses it wasn’t the best idea to mock the intelligence of a guy who just broke his door. He woke up a few hours later, when the light of the sun hit his eyelids.

“Shit.”

He closed his eyes again.

Tag list:  @authorisada, @elizabethwillow, @ishanijasmin, @acutecupidity, @concealeddarkness13, @xanaphia, @fallover19, @taz-writes, @incandescent-creativity, @theshadowsofthenight, @lady-redshield-writes, @merigreenleaf, @gettingitwrite, @lynnafred, @kaylewiswrites, @katelynntheauthor, @forlornraven, @i-doled, @writing-in-mermish, @ejmcmoon, @rewriting-the-world

[poore-choice-of-words]

A fun little crossover...

For @incandescent-creativity‘s “Week of Birthday” (also a B-day present for me because mine was about a week ago). i fudged the timeline a little bit since this takes place before Apprentices (which takes place like 2016), but my universe is technologically ahead so it would still be possible.

This place was on the blacklist. However, Faraday’s mother still wanted to see this Dr. Agau in action. The boys were here because she wanted them to see if any of Dr. Agau’s experiments could escape, with a little help.

Faraday didn’t like the doctor. She gave off similar vibes to Spectrum, a chess master who didn’t think they had a proper opponent. He’d probably find her pretty if his time around an empath hadn’t made him wary of immediate impressions. Trust actions, trust people, don’t trust impressions. That said, he found Agau someone entertaining to watch as she tried to convince one of the most influential people in the world to back her, and failed.

Faraday stopped watching her when Harold lightly smacked his arm.

“Put your sunglasses on,” Harold ordered, quiet enough that Agau couldn’t hear them.

“Okay.”

For the briefest of moments Faraday was blind. He reached for his mother’s hand, and she squeezed his while keeping hold. He didn’t know if she made the glasses. but she knew what was going on, or maybe she was just willing to hold his hand no matter the occasion.

After the images appeared and his eyes adjusted to form them into one picture, he saw a girl.

She was perfect. Not in a way that made Faraday want to fall in love with her, but in the way his grandmother looked in some of her earlier films. She was blond with blue eyes, like him. If she had curlier hair, they could look like twins, or at least siblings. Her demeanor seemed proper, but there seemed to be a secret wildness about her, just hidden beneath the surface.

He let go of his mother’s hand and moved closer to Harold.

“Is she the only one?”

“The only one that’s awake.”

“What can she do?”

Their mother’s sources had said that Agau was making superhumans. Presumably the info of what they could do was somewhere in Agau Laboratories’ servers.

“I am not risking her finding out what I’m doing. We’ll ask Camera to help us when we get home.”

“Fine.”

Dr. Agau seemed to have several arguments ready to convince their mother as they continued their tour through the facilities. Conversely, his mother was able to ask enough variations of “why?” to not seem like a 9 year old boy

Faraday didn’t like the place. It reminded him of The Coven a little too much. White walls, floor, and ceiling, combined with just too bright lights and superhuman reinforcement he could feel made for flashbacks to flipping knives in the air and crushing armors with a whim.

He grabbed his mother’s hand again, this time for comfort. Agau looked at this happening, not with disgust, not with happiness, but with a cold curiosity that shook Faraday and made him squeeze a little tighter.

...

Faraday forgot they had taken a driver to the lab. Usually, one of his parent’s drove, but his mother had said something about expectations. The driver also happened to be Uncle Moses so he could determine external weak points.

“Where to next, Ma’am?”

Code: “When can we talk?”

“Just take us back home.”

Code: “We’ll talk when we can check for bugs.”

His mother really didn’t trust this Agau woman.

...

After they checked for bugs, and found one on Harold’s wheelchair, they all set down for a meeting.

“Anyone want to tell me any information I wouldn’t have learned while I was distracting the good doctor?” His mother asked.

“She probably doesn’t think anyone has a comparable IQ to her,” Uncle Moses said.

“I think she does, but she doesn’t recognize a moral code when she sees one, and that interferes with her calculations,” she countered.

“She has a girl.”

They both turned to Faraday, who pointed at Harold.

“I was going to ask if I could use Camera’s help to get more information.”

“Heck yes, that girl is probably going through hell!” Their AI said from the walls of the house.

Uncle Moses leaned back on the seat.

“Looks like this is a jailbreak.”

...

Tag list:  @authorisada, @elizabethwillow, @ishanijasmin, @acutecupidity, @concealeddarkness13, @xanaphia, @fallover19, @taz-writes, @incandescent-creativity, @theshadowsofthenight, @lady-redshield-writes, @merigreenleaf, @gettingitwrite, @lynnafred, @kaylewiswrites, @katelynntheauthor, @forlornraven, @i-doled, @writing-in-mermish, @ejmcmoon, @rewriting-the-world

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter Three

For those of you new to this series, here’s The Beginning

Previous, Next

...

Mandie was fully aware that Emily hid a lot. She was old friends with Diana, it was impossible not to have secrets. The fact that Moses was Emily’s son didn’t actually surprise her, he had his mother’s skill for speaking without saying anything. He was terrible at facial expressions though, especially his disappointment when he couldn’t take home food.

Her observations on her new acquaintance led to her walking into Helena’s door, presumably loud enough for a normal person to hear. She opened it to see Helena looking at her with a face she had seen to many times.

The face said, “for a sensitive, you sure are unaware of your surroundings.”

She was glad for Helena being non-verbal, it saved her the time of an instinctive lecture.

Mandie sat on the floor to face Helena.

“Did you like Emily’s son?”

She shrugged.

“Do you still dislike Emily?”

Shrug again.

“If you can't give me a straight answer then I guess it's time for bed.”

Helena gave her a critical look.

“Your bed, my work.”

Crossed arms and a pout.

“You’re eight, you have to be at least ten to be a superhero.”

Helena huffed, but moved from the floor to her bed, pulled the sheet up, waved goodnight, and flopped down, somehow managing not to hit the wall behind her. She may not like it, but Helena was good at doing what she was told--Mandie shivered at the thought of what somebody else would do with that knowledge.

She sat on the bed next to Helena, pushing the hair off the girl’s face. She was peaceful, and almost looked sweet. Mandie been around her enough to know she wasn’t sweet. Loyal to a fault, a stockpile of energy, a powerhouse, all could fit for Helena, but she wasn’t sweet. Another descriptor could be asleep.

Mandie stepped out, closing the door as quietly as possible. She listened for a beat to make sure Helena hadn’t just gotten good at pretending to sleep. Wait, what about brushing her teeth?

She opened the door again and got close enough to smell Helena’s breath. Yep, it smelled like the watermelon toothpaste she’d let Helena pick out. Mandie had to remind herself that this was part of a normal childhood, and Helena deserved that, even if it gave Mandie a headache.

...

After a few moments of reassuring herself Helena was fine, Mandie was finally in the basement, her beloved place of work.

Mandie took a second to look at the equipment, all hightech, none typical for a seamstress. She grabbed the belt off of the workbench. Taking a deep breath, she placed it on her waist and pressed the two buttons on the sides.

More white threads than any human could or should count began coming out. She focused on the threads, weaving them together into the durable cloth that made the costume.

“Dense at the chest, light on the arms, skirt and pants medium.”

She took a second to smile at her handiwork, especially at the yellow threads that made it look like the outfit had seams tonight.

She grabbed her cellphone and punched in the number she needed.

“Misty here!”

“Are you--”

“On my way!”

“Wait!”

No response, but Misty hadn’t hung up.

“She’s asleep right now, don’t wake her up.”

“Got it!” Misty hung up.

With the baby-sitter out of the way, Mandie grabbed her mask. Nightingale was ready for a fight.

Except for the part where the only shoes she could find were her heels. Her proper boots were somewhere in the house, but she had to go soon.

...

Ace of Spades was predictable. He had chosen the less likely counterclockwise pattern of warehouse movement, but predictable. The part where he still wasn’t there, though annoying, didn’t make him any less predictable.

Nightingale closed her eyes to read the room. They all had the same question on their minds as she did : “Where’s the boss?”

“Sorry to tell you this boys,” his voice bounced around the room, Nightingale wasn’t sure where it came from, “but you’re all bait.” An energy went through the room, giving her a headache and turning all the goons unconscious, which kept her from realizing a hand was pushing her on the back.

She was able to land without hurting herself, but just barely. She stood and looked up to see there was someone where she had just been.

“You really enjoy turning the tables, don’t you?”

“I like to make the beginning and the end match.” Ace of Spades jumped down and began walking towards her, cane swinging in hand.

When he got close enough, the cane swung for her head. She ducked, feeling an energy just above her. She pushed her own energy through her arm and hit him in the stomach, sending him back.

He stood up and started shortening the gap she’d made between them. She moved back.

“To be honest,” he said, “I didn’t expect the heels.”

“figured I’d give you as fair a fight as I could.” She ran towards him to kick him in the chest. The singular advantage of heels was that they could cause some serious hurt.

Pain. She was on the ground and he was unhurt. She got up just as he pointed the cane at her neck, same energy pulsing through it as before. She backed up as he moved forward, until she hit a wall.

The cane seemed important to him. She reached for it with her mind, but it was slippery somehow. Then it was sideways on her neck, pressed close.

“I was told once if you ever find yourself in a fair fight, you've done something wrong,” Ace of Spades told her, “so, Nightingale, what have you done wrong?”

He was an idiot. Her hands were free, and then they were pulling the cane away from her neck. He pushed back. She added a bit of extra force.

“Aaaaahhh!”

It was painful enough to make her scream, and that was when the only points of contact were her hands.

When he let go, and the pain stopped, she opened her eyes.

Ace of Spades was unconscious on the ground. She bent down and pressed her fingers to his temple to get a surface reading on him. Not unconscious, catatonic. She racked her brain for the procedure her teacher had taught her.

…

“The only time a Psychic is harmless is in a state of catatonia.”

“Maybe I shouldn’t be here then,” Kitty said, filing down her claws.

Mandie rolled her eyes. Kitty looked the mean girl, but played the jokester.

“Catatonia has nothing to do with Kitty’s name sake,” their teacher replied, “can anyone tell me what it is?”

Mandie pushed the words “I can” into his mind.

“Mr. Peters, what is it?”

She still lost.

Carter smirked, “When someone is in an immobile stupor.”

“Ms. Piec, your answer?”

Either Carter got it wrong, or the teacher was in a mood to damage someone’s ego, or both. Mandie was taking her chance no matter what.

“The definition for a psychic catatonia is when the mind, although able to maintain basic bodily functions, stops.”

“Exactly!”

“Like what happened to the boy Mandie kissed at homecoming?” Carter asked.

“I--he--”

“How did you get him out of it professor?” Kitty asked.

“Well in the shows you shock the heart to bring it back to life. Since the mind isn’t dead with catatonia, you can shock it back to life, so to speak.”

…

“Fear and pain work best,” Nightingale muttered. Luckily, she’d just had a moment full of pain and terror that she could pull up for this very purpose.

She took a deep breath before pressing her fingers to his temple again, bringing her forehead close to his. Focusing on the pain she’d just felt, she closed her eyes, and projected that memory. For a brief moment she saw three people and felt a bit happier, but it faded when Ace of Spades gasped for air, breaking the connection.

Nightingale moved herself back up, grabbing the cane as she went.

“I’m keeping this.” She walked out through the doors of the warehouse, checked to see if he was watching, and disappeared, grateful stealth mode hadn’t been damaged by the fight.

…

If Mandie had thought, she would’ve put a bug somewhere on Ace of Spades. As it stood she was sitting in her basement with bandaged palms, waiting for Catherine to message her back.

“Where did you get this?”

Or call her. That couldn’t be good news. She made mental note to make sure she had warning on calls, even if she had to accept them.

“Fighting the most recent menace to my town.”

“Is that why I got feedback from you?”

Mandie occasionally forgot about the psychic link between she and her sister since the distance of their homes meant they only felt anything from it during intense emotional situations.

“That was either from the pain, or from the part where I had to push him out of catatonia.”

“What pain?”

“Are you watching me?”

“Of course.”

Mandie showed her bandaged hands to the camera.

“Eek, was it the cane?”

“Yeah.”

“Did you use your powers too?”

“Too?”

Mandie’s screen showed a patent she’d seen before.

“It’s dad’s design Mandie, our tech.”

“Your gloves.”

“Except designed for telekinesis instead of electric shocks.”

“This is great news.”

Catherine took a moment to respond with, “Our tech is being stolen and this is great news?”

“It means this guy is a telekinetic, which is a parameter you can search for on the database.”

“I love you Mandie, but you are way too much of an optimist.”

“Are you still running that program?”

Silence. Maybe that was too mean.

“I have to go to sleep, but I’ll look through the database for you tomorrow.” Catherine hung up

...

Tag list:  @authorisada, @elizabethwillow, @ishanijasmin, @acutecupidity, @concealeddarkness13, @xanaphia, @fallover19, @taz-writes, @incandescent-creativity, @theshadowsofthenight, @lady-redshield-writes, @merigreenleaf, @gettingitwrite, @lynnafred, @kaylewiswrites, @katelynntheauthor, @forlornraven, @i-doled, @writing-in-mermish, @ejmcmoon, @rewriting-the-world

[poore-choice-of-words]

WIP Blind Date Info

Title of your WIP: Nightingale and Peregrine

Genre: Sci-fi/Fantasy, Superheroes, Romance

Trigger Warnings: Telepathy/Psychics

Stage of writing process: I have 5 Chapters up on tumblr, and keep meaning to put them up on Wattpad

Synopsis: Amanda “Mandie” Piec has been Nightingale for over ten years, but it doesn’t get any easier. Whenever she takes someone down, there’s a new enemy ready to fight, and now she has a kid to take care of. Moses Casborough wants to get away from his old life, but instead is coming back to his older one. He’s supposed to keep his family safe by putting his home town in danger, but he still likes it there.

Character information [OPTIONAL]: Mandie is a Telepath/Telekinetic with superhuman senses (Codename: Nightingale), Moses is just a Telepath/Telekinetic (Codename(s): Ace of Spades, Peregrine)

Links: First Chapter

WIP tag: WIP: Nightingale & Peregrine, OC: Amanda Piec, OC: Moses Casborough

Other WIP Information [OPTIONAL]: This is just here for you to add any extra information or comments about your WIP that you might want to!

Constructive criticism: Nah, I really just want to know how you like it. (If there is a certain sensitivity issue I’m being insensitive to, please tell me so I can do better.)

[poore-choice-of-words]

Nightingale & Peregrine Chapter two

tag list: @authorisada, @elizabethwillow, @ishanijasmin, @acutecupidity, @concealeddarkness13, @xanaphia, @fallover19, @willowandsnow, @sayaratyriea If you’d like to be added or removed from the tag list please tell me.

Beginning, Description, Next

Moses stood at the door.

“Great first day, next time do something instead of talk and stop a bullet clearly not meant to kill.”

After that pep-talk he opened the door to his apartment, revealing a woman sitting on his sofa.

“Since when are you a telepath?”

“Hi Mom,” he closed the door behind him, “how are you?”

“I'm doing fine,” she said, her southern drawl suddenly emphasized, “You aren't.”

“Can I offer you something?” He walked towards the kitchen, “I just got here--in town--so all I have is water.”

“Actually, I'm inviting you to dinner.” His mother looked at him, smirking.

He sighed. “I can't say no to this invitation, can I?”

“No.”

“When should we leave?”

She looked at the clock before saying, “tomorrow.”

“Then why are you,” realization dawned, “You're not leaving until I tell you about the telepath thing, are you?”

“I'm worried about you.”

“How did you even know?” He sat down on the couch, ready for a story.

“You’re not wearing a t-shirt.”

“That’s how you figured me out?” His mother still smirked “I got past that phase after graduating high school, you know.”

“Yes and then you moved to wearing muscle tanks on national television.”

“What on earth do you mean?”

“Did you and your sister really think masks and dye-jobs would keep me from recognizing your voices?”

He took a moment to breath. What he was going to say needed more preparation than he had, like a week’s worth of preparation.

“I’ll tell you, but I’m not ready yet.”

She nodded, the glint of a memory in her eye. Moses was thankful she was a powerful enough telepath to keep him from accidentally reading her.

The car ride had been a mostly silent one, with his mother only telling him when to turn.

“We’re in a neighborhood.” He told her.

“I didn’t tell you we were going to a restaurant,” she looked up, “Turn left.”

“This isn’t our neighborhood,” he glanced at the houses all clearly beyond the family budget, “this is the neighborhood where kids like me would only go to spend time with rich suckers who thought we liked them.”

“I didn’t say we’d be the only ones there.”

“If this is--”

“This one.” His mother said.

The house wasn’t very distinct, save the bird carving on the door. There was no way Moses’ mother recognized it by appearance alone.

“How often have you been here?”

“Let’s get inside before we’re late.” She left the car, heading towards the door.

“We’re late?”

After a second of talking himself out of driving away, he got out and walked up to the door. His mother had already entered. Looking at it closer, he noticed the detail on the bird, even the feathers on the head were noticeable.

He pressed the doorbell. Silence. Footsteps. He heard a few words as the door opened.

“I’m guessing that’s--” he made eye contact with a familiar redhead, “the son.”

“I’m sorry, is the girl with red hair in yellow and white calling me the sun?” He faked indignance.

“Joe’s pharmacy?” was all she asked.

“Yeah, Mandie, right?”

“That’s me, and you’re Moses, right?”

“Are you going to let him in or what?” his mother asked from he was guessing the dining room.

“Oh, of course, sorry.” She stepped back to let him through the door.

“There’s no need to apologize.” He stepped past her, not sure if it would be more awkward as he came in to look at her or the house, which was definitely built for an upper class family. Better to look at the house and not make a scene with her husband if he was possessive. “This place looks like a big name department store commercial.”

“Or a reality tv show.” Mandie added.

He almost started laughing. Almost.

“How’s the kid?”

“She’s drugged up.”

At that a little girl in a pink sweatshirt came down, she couldn’t have been older than ten. She was rubbing her eyes, clearly tired. In short, she practically defined adorable.

“Speak of the devil.” Mandie motioned to the girl who came to stand in front of her, “this is Helena.”

They looked nothing alike. Mandie’s hair was red with some amount of volume, while the little girl had unbelievably straight brunette hair; Mandie’s somewhat sharpened features contrasted the girls cherub-soft cheeks; and the girl was glaring at him while Mandie at least looked happy he was there.

“I guess she takes after her father.” He noted.

“No! Or, I guess, maybe--I mean,” Mandie sighed, “I’m fostering her.”

“Ohhh.” he nodded a bit. She had mentioned having a date with some guy, so she probably wasn’t married (how had he forgotten that?).

The dinner itself went on uneventfully, except for several cries of how amazing Mandie’s cooking was. Helena eventually went up to her room, and Moses’ mother decided to disappear in the bathroom for longer than she needed to, leaving him with the girl he just realized had his mom’s approval.

Mandie was the one to start the conversation.

“So you’re Emily’s son.”

“And I have no clue what your relationship with her is.” Moses said.

“Oh, so I guess I’m not the only one she doesn’t let know things until last minute.”

This was last minute for her too.

“She doesn’t like getting attached,” he said

“I know the type.”

“Still didn’t tell me why she doesn’t hate you.”

She tensed up a little and released, “I have a couch,” she said, changing the subject, “wanna sit there?”

“Sure,” he got out of his chair and presented his hand to her, “lead the way.” Then he realized what physical contact had done to him recently, and though he would love to know Mandie’s thoughts on him, he did not want to know all her thoughts. Wait, he was telekinetic. He couldn’t imitate the actual feeling of a hand though--that would be nuts.

Meanwhile Mandie had walked past him, grabbing his shirt sleeve on the other arm. She led him through an undecorated room into what looked like a family room.

“I see you like using space,” Moses said.

“I’ve only been here maybe a month, not my fault my apartment furniture couldn’t spread out.”

Apartment. Month. She had only recently moved to this part of town.

“Do you like making faces like everything I say is an unexpected plot twist to your life?” Mandie asked, “Or do you know literally nothing about me?” She sat down patting the seat next to her.

“Sophie flooded you with complements and mentioned you're in the wrong line of work--or volunteering I guess,” he sat down, “other than that I’ve learned nothing.”

“So we’re on the same page with each other.”

“I think Sophie left before I could get any compliments.”

She laughed, “You think Sophie stopped after that first meeting?”

“It’s been a day.”

“She already thinks we’re better than the romance novels she reads the chickens.”

“She still has chickens?”

“I’m pretty sure she never got new ones.”

“She borrows a friend's rooster every now and then.”

“Oohh.”

He smiled, “I guess you're not the only one causing revelations tonight.”

She nodded a second, “got any more?”

Several. He was here to get control of the city. If he wanted, he could probably read her mind (maybe even if he didn't want to). He was seriously worried Mandie's relationship with his mother was one that meant he couldn't risk seeing her again. The list went on. He couldn't tell her the list.

“Everything I've heard gets me a bit more curious about the date you mentioned yesterday.”

Flirting was the best way to dodge questions.

She paused.

“Are you--”

“Sorry I took so long,” Moses’ mother sat next to him, “By the way Mandie, you need to decorate your house more, it’s almost like you dedicate half your budget to your basement.”

Moses thought he saw Mandie’s eyes go wide for less than a second, but he may have been wrong.

“Anywho,” His mother said, “we have to go, it is past my bedtime.”

“Oh,” Mandie turned toward the kitchen, “I guess it’s later than I thought. Do you want to bring any food home? Either of you?”

Moses glanced at his mother, and his mother’s face said no.

“I think we’re both fine,” his mother said, pulling him by his arm.

“Bye, I guess.” He waved at Mandie as he was pulled through the rooms. He stopped once they left the house.

“I leave you for five minutes and you’re head over heels.” She said as they got in the car.

“I am not head over heels.” He focused on the process to start the car. Lock the doors. Insert key. Turn key. Move into drive. Turn only--

“You're borrowing Max's old method for when he didn’t want me to know what he was thinking.”

“That's because it worked.”

“It's also because you don't want me to know I'm right.”

“You're not right.” Shit! He forgot to focus on driving.

“You’re a mob boss now!?” his mother looked at him, betrayed. That’s not the info he expected her to find.

Mob boss--it was good to know the aesthetic worked.

“More like a placeholder because a secret group wants to keep their foot in the door here.”

“This isn’t good Moses.”

If this had been twelve years ago, that statement would have mattered, but things had changed.

“I know that.”

“You’re going to get caught.”

That would be preferable to his present work situation.

“Love the maternal support, mom.”

“Nightingale captures every temp boss they throw at this city.”

Nightingale, cute name, but why Nightingale?

“So that’s the lady in white’s name.”

“Lady in white?” Apparently teasing him was still high on his mother’s priority list.

“It’s what she was, I didn’t see much of her, and aren’t nightingales brown or something?”

“I just didn’t realize that she actually wears that outfit in a fight. Turn.”

“What do you mean ‘actually wears that outfit in a fight.’”

If his mother had seen the outfit, had she met Nightingale? Did she know her?

“I mean I've only seen her in public appearances with her team or whatever it is. Turn again.”

Okay, she didn’t know Nightingale.

“Team? Who the hell is this chic?”

“Nightingale.”

Moses took a second to glare at his mother.

“You know exactly what I meant.”

“I don’t who she is, the only one who might is the image of innocence herself.”

“Helena?” The girl was definitely innocent looking, but she was eight, how could she know Nightingale?

His mother smacked him upside the head.

“No--I thought I taught you better than that--I mean Mandie.”

“I guess I can see that,” Mandie was sweet, definitely, but image of innocence? “Why would she know?”

“She made Nightingale's costume.”

“What!?”