#Sedona climbing | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

nihiladditaenihilperdidi · 9 days ago

Text

Along Came a Mouse Pt. 1 || Sedona + Ariel + Echo || November, 2024

Sedona: Sedona was making his way across the bridge, hopefully for the last time that week. If he could keep Manhattan at his back, it would be a vacation, however brief. He looked at the slip of paper for the fifth time. Just a name, brief description, and address. At last, Tillary Street. It was a sharp left toward Dumbo, now. But he looked over his shoulder. The dead of night. Hardly anyone on the street, even in this city, but there was something, what he thought was a squeal...

Echo: Everything had been fine—should’ve been fine—if not for this damn cat! She had been tailing this stranger for the past couple of days. Something about him called her and she had to investigate. Observe first, act second, think later. That was the rule. But now, she'd been mistaken for a midnight snack by a dirty cat. Dodging left and right, Echo kept out of its claws, but the creature was relentless. When the chase kicked into full gear, Echo bolted, her tiny paws racing down the sidewalk along the bridge, cars roaring on her right, certain death waiting in the waters below. The only way out was—toward the unsuspecting Sedona as she bolted between his feet.

Sedona: This was New York City. If he couldn't handle seeing a rodent kicking it into second and third gear, he wouldn't have survived this long. It wasn't the mouse - ah yeah, an actual mouse! not a rat! - that kept his attention, but the cat climbing his leg. The little creature had dodged between his legs, but the cat, either too old or too blind, had made the wrong assumption. What should have been a holler of pain was a wince of annoyance. "He ain't up my ass, you dummy." Scratches, yep. Blood, yep. None of which he could see underneath his acid wash jeans. The cat was grabbed by the scruff of its neck with measured strength, just enough to pry its claws from his flesh.

Echo: Echo darted forward, slowing just enough to glance back and watch the scene unfold. Her assailant was snatched by the scruff of its neck, detached from the stranger’s leg. Her little heart pounded as she paused to catch her breath. With the cat distracted, she gave Sedona another quick look. He’d saved her, and now she owed him. Damnit. Keeping low, Echo made herself scarce, slipping into a nearby bush, her eyes never leaving the human. Where was he going?

Sedona: He assumed the mouse was long gone. Not a concern in the world as he sat the cat on its four feet. Being so rudely handled, the cat hissed, taking off across the street, narrowly missing an Uber before diving over a dumpster and out of sight. "Christ Almighty." He contorted himself just enough to pull at his pant leg, checking the damages which were already beginning to heal. No one was around to take notice of the smooth skin now hiding beneath smudges of drying blood. All that mattered was, it wasn't enough blood to bleed through. Ha!

Echo: Echo crept forward from the cover of the brush, her nose twitching as she watched the man. She’d scooted too far ahead and couldn’t quite see what he was doing. Slipping out from under the bush, she moved closer, staying in the shadows and hoping her white fur wouldn’t give her away. She stopped just short of Sedona as he rolled up his pants leg. No wounds. How? She’d seen the cat latch onto him—there had been blood! How?!

Sedona: Dead of night and white fur did not a stealthy mouse make. He hadn't even been looking for the little one when dual-colored eyes landed on her tiny form. There he stood, staring, contemplating life and this curious mouse. Rabies? Rare, but sure. Better question, could he contract rabies? No time like the present to try again. His attempt in '91 had been unsuccessful. Sedona took a knee and reached out slowly.

Echo: She had been certain she was one with the night, melting into the shadows. But the sudden weight of eyes on her said otherwise—she’d been spotted. She could already hear Niz's gentle scolding for her misstep. Hesitating, she stepped forward, eyes flicking between the man's hand and his face. Was he... trying to pet her? Taking another cautious step, she doubted he’d try to harm her. If he did, he’d be in for a surprise when he found himself facing a 5’0 woman ready to fight back. No, this was something else—mutual curiosity, maybe. Steeling herself, she inched closer, giving his fingers a tentative sniff.

Sedona: Wouldn't an animal with rabies have bitten down by now? Scratched? Screamed? He'd seen videos of humans with rabies - what a way to go. Death had become something of a fascination after 1994, still going strong. But, he wouldn't meet his maker tonight. "Aren't you cute." Maybe... he could... slowly scratch behind its ear.

Echo: Echo glanced between his hand and his face a few more times, sizing up his intentions. But the compliment was enough to sway her. She even seemed to perk up a little at the words. I am, aren’t I? Thank you. Echo didn’t look like your normal mouse, her temperament and appearance set her apart. Well-kept, perhaps even someone’s lost pet that had managed to escape. It was curious for a mouse to approach a human so willingly. As his fingers made contact behind her ear, she closed one eye in response, feeling the pull toward him intensify.

Sedona: Sedona looked from one side of the street to the other, as if expecting someone to run up and steal his mouse. If anything, he was now the crazy motherfucker people avoided, the one with the mouse circus and a baseball cap at his feet waiting for coins. It was a stupid thought. This wasn't someone's pet. This was a typical New Yorker, too comfortable with humans and expceting a hand out. Well, a hand out she would have, trying ever so gently to coax her into his palm. "My friend's got some pizza. Want some pizza?"

Echo: She took a step forward under the gentle scritch, looking up at him. Fine. She’d give in to this—just see where it went. She’d survived worse adventures, and there wasn’t much she couldn’t handle. Carefully, Echo stepped into the palm of his hand. Besides, pizza did sound good.

Sedona He blinked, pleasantly surprised by its willingness to trust what was essentually a 30-story monster. The Big Apple had a way of taming these creatures; that was the only logical conclusion. "Ya know what we're gonna do?" His hand was brought to his chest, giving the little thing a wall of security. "We're gonna get some pizza, and we're gonna scare the fucking shit outta my buddy."

Echo: She flattened herself slightly against his palm as he lifted her. She’d often curled up in the folds of her previous mistress’s cloak—maybe she could find a pocket to nestle into here. She still wasn’t sure what to make of the stranger, but the promise of food and a bit of shenanigans was hard to resist. She glanced up at him, and for the briefest moment, it almost looked like she gave a nod of agreement.

Sedona: Getting there was easy, if not a bit boring. Across a few noisy streets, noisy on account of the incessant horns between an Uber and a taxi. A battle of the ages, as it were, that was none of his damn business. On the very cusp of Dumbo, Sedona turned right, to a 7-story apartment building illuminated brightly from its roof. Straight to the intercom, pressing his thumb in quick bursts until a crackling came through the speakers. "Seeeeeed, you fucking cunt, stop!" Her host grinned. "Lemme in, lemme in, lemme in!" became his chant until the door unlocked itself. "Gotta find a place to hide you," he muttered. Shuffling to the elevator, he considered his open button down. Ariel would know something was up if he actually buttoned the damn thing.

Echo: Echo peeked over his hand, watching as they made their way through New York. She recognized the landmarks as they passed—the bodega, the smoke shop she’d skittered by a few times while trailing him. The apartment building looked familiar too, and she couldn’t help but be amused as he rang the buzzer over and over, clearly impatient to be let in. Perking up, she studied the call box, as if trying to read the names listed there. Surely, a mouse couldn’t read. She’d seen him press the buttons before, but never caught a glimpse of who was on the other side. At the crackle of a voice, her ears twitched, angling toward the speaker. Hm. Was he the keeper of the pizza? Her attention shifted back to Sedona and his clothes. If his button-down had a pocket, she could nestle in there—or she could settle in his jeans pocket, though that looked a bit less comfortable. Her head tilted as she waited to see where he’d decide to put her.

Sedona: Now, the shirt pocket... was an idea. Wouldn't that little bit of weight be noticeable? Would Ariel really pay that much attention? He was probably upstairs in his bedroom working on another song. To the 7th floor they went. By the 5th floor he had made up his mind, opening his shirt square wide enough to let the little mouse fall, bracing himself for an argument should it try to hop out.

Echo: She remained relatively calm in his hand, standing upright as she watched the floors tick by, having noted her surroundings in case she needed a quick escape. Her nose twitched in the elevator, picking up a mix of scents she didn’t particularly care for. But that was New York—strong smells were everywhere, and she just had to endure it. So when he offered the safety of a shirt pocket, she accepted, though she didn’t appreciate the awkward tumble into it. Scrambling upright, her tiny paws gripped the edge of the pocket as she peeked out. Should she worry about what he meant by 'scaring the shit out of his friend'? Maybe. But where was the fun in that?

Sedona: Just a few doors down from the elevator was a door with a ring camera and a punch code. This time Sedona let himself in without so much as a knock. It wouldn't have mattered had he attempted; nothing would have been heard over the acid techno barely contained by three walls and a floor-to-ceiling window. Blue, purple, and pink lights danced in harmony from behind the television, along the lining of the kitchen island, behind the couch, and somewhere upstairs. A beeline was made to the microwave above the stove. But where to put the little mouse? Had to be timed just right. "Where's the pizza?" he called, frowning at the empty microwave. "In my big intestine." Sedona marched upstairs, greeted with the back of his host's head, staring intently at his curved computer screen, oblivious of the man standing at the foot of his stairs. The little mouse was fished from his pocket. Held out as an offering of mayhem. His whistle cut through the music. The man, sitting in boxers and a white shirt, strawberry blond curls in absolute chaos, turned, frowning - and then a scream, louder than Sedona's whistle, louder than the thrumming of his music, was up on his gaming chair. "What the fuck?! What the fuck! Kill it!"

Echo: Echo was fine until they neared the door, where the loud thrum of music became almost overwhelming. She heard it even before they stepped inside, and the noise only intensified once they were in. Overwhelmed, she dropped to the depths of the pocket, the vibrations making her ears ache. Still, they kept moving, and she gently swayed with each step. Curiosity eventually got the better of her, and she poked her nose out, and then peeked over the edge. No pizza? Instead, neon lights greeted her, giving the space the feel of a nightclub rather than an apartment. Before she could take it all in, she was suddenly scooped up and presented like a gift to a blonde stranger. Her body went rigid as her gaze locked with his, and then a scream echoed. Maybe she screamed too—it all blurred together in the panic. The threat of danger was enough to make her bolt. In a flash, she leapt out of Sed's hand, hitting the ground and scurrying across the floor. Heart racing, she sought the first hiding spot she could find, diving behind the computer desk and wedging herself flat under the lowest surface, where she hoped she wouldn’t be easily discovered.

Ariel: Well, there it went. The blurs continued as the mouse had to scurry past their host, sending the ghoul in a wild panic, leaping from his chair to his king-sized bed, sending the chair falling to the carpet with a clatter. Guilt - only the pressure of a pinprick - was swiftly overshadowed by hiccup-inducing laughter, falling to his knees and then flat on the floor as he was called every colorful name under the sun.

Echo: She darted around the crashing chair, narrowly avoiding getting her tail caught as she dove under the desk. The sounds of laughter, pounding music, and more screams filled the air. Flattened against the floor, she caught sight of her so-called host doubled over, laughing at the chaos he’d caused. Nope. She wasn’t moving—there was no way she was risking a run-in with that other person, who might crush her without a second thought. Alright, maybe trusting the stranger had been a mistake. And to matters worse, there wasn’t even the promised bribe of food!

Sedona: Sedona looked upside down at the floor, at the little white streak shivering underneath the sanctuary of the desk. Had it been worth it, bringing the little mouse all this way? Absolutely. No regrets. But still, he rolled onto his stomach, ignoring Ariel's new string of curses - something about sanitizing his entire apartment - as he held out his hand. "Come on. He won't touch you. He's chicken shit."

Echo: Echo hadn’t heard some of these expletives before and would make note of them for future use. Now part of her was tempted to harass Ariel a little more. She crawled forward, belly pressed to the floor, and peeked out from beneath the desk toward the bed where he stood. Sanitize? She was perfectly clean, thank you very much. It had rained a few days ago, and she’d groomed herself in the clearest puddle she could find. Maybe she should climb up the bed and make him scream again... But her attention shifted to the hand now coaxing her out, fingers stretched in an invitation. Mm. She’d been one overturned chair away from a quick and messy death because of him. No, she wasn’t falling for that. Staying put was safer—for now.

Sedona: "Shut the fuck up, or she ain't ever coming out!" She, he said. Just a guess. Maybe it was the size of the animal. Had it been a rat, he might have said he. He wasn't pondering that deeply over something inconsequential. Ariel was now on his knees, watching and wondering if he had broken his chair. Having lost his trail of thought, he was pretty certain he would have to scrap the progress he had made on his new song. "What's it worth to you?" Sedona asked, keeping his voice level and formal. The ghoul narrowed his eyes. That sounded like the start of a bad porno. "Cheese pizza from Michelangelo's." Ah. Sedona smiled. "Hear that, girlie?"

Echo: Echo ignored the hand stretched out to her as the two continued to squabble. But her ears perked when the mention of pizza was back on the table. Fine, she thought, I’ll bite. Figuratively, of course. Pulling herself forward from under the desk, she peeked out, her sharp gaze flitting between Sed and Ariel. If the blonde kept his squealing to a minimum, she might consider stepping back onto Sed’s hand. But forgiving him? That wasn’t happening just yet.

Ariel: "Uh-uh. Uh-uh." The further the little mouse moved, the further their host positioned himself on the bed. Screaming had been replaced with hard denial, and then the pattering of hurried steps as he fled down the stairs.

There was no inquiry as to why he had the damn thing. Shenanigans, mischief, pranks, whatever you were to call it, was nothing new to their relationship.

He enjoyed keeping Ariel on his toes. No one should ever be too comfortable.

"There's a shoebox in the closet. Put it in there."

Sedona frowned.

"You gonna stay in my pocket, babygirl?"

Echo: Echo finally crept out from beneath the desk, her small form pausing as she scanned the room. Ariel was far enough away to rule out any immediate threat of being stepped on, which made the idea of moving feel slightly safer. Casting a glance back at Sed, she hesitated before tentatively stepping into his outstretched hand.

She certainly wasn’t about to risk being shoved into a shoebox—rattling around like loose change wasn’t on her agenda. A pocket, however, sounded far more appealing. She looked up at Sed, then flicked her gaze to his pocket, as if making her choice perfectly clear.

Sedona: "You're... fuckin'... weird. Hey yo, I think this was somebody's pet. It like, knows what I'm sayin' and shit."

"Cool," came from downstairs. "They can have it back."

Sedona opened his pocket, offering the mouse the opportunity to climb in at her own pace.

Echo: Well, technically, he wasn’t wrong. Echo had once belonged to someone, but her previous owner had passed away. How long had it been now? She’d lost track. Life alone had been her norm until that strange pull—the invisible string—led her straight to Sed.

But weird? That was uncalled for.

With careful movements, she climbed into the offered pocket, settling herself into the fabric. Still, she couldn’t let the comment slide. A quick nip through his shirt served as a warning: watch it.

Sedona: A feeling which would have gone completely unnoticed, if not for the change in pressure. Pain was fascinating and ever elusive, but he knew, at least some of the time, when he was supposed to feel something.

"The fuck was that for?" he asked, heading back downstairs.

In the brief moment of his absence, Ariel had lined two glasses of beer and two shots of whiskey. The familiarity between them continued upstairs and down. Sedona grabbed his shot, letting it fall into the beer and chugging in time with his host.

"Pizza's on the way. Chicken wings are mine, fuckface."

"Guess what's in my pocket."

Ariel plastered himself to the fridge doors.

Echo: Echo was not weird, but she couldn’t exactly voice that right now, could she? Retaliation, however, was fair game, and the satisfied flick of her tail matched the smugness she felt at Sed’s reaction to her nip. Ha!

She swayed gently in the pocket as they moved, her small body adjusting to the rhythm. When they paused, her curiosity got the better of her, and she sat up just enough to catch a glimpse of amber beer overhead. A droplet of condensation slipped down the glass and landed squarely on her nose.

At least she hoped it was condensation, quickly wiping it away and cleaning her face. She peered out again only when the attention in the room seemed to shift to her. Her tiny gaze locked onto Ariel.

Sedona: "Bro, keep it away from me. I'm serious. How can you just have that in your pocket?"

Sedona frowned on her behalf. "She's fine! She ain't doin' nothin'. Gimmie that pizza or she's gonna be a short-range weapon."

Ariel side-stepped deeper into his kitchen.

"Just stay over there," he grumbled, pulling out his phone.

The subject strayed from the mouse in his pocket, inquiring Sedona's visit across the water, how much money was involved and when his services were required. There was no terrifying revelation of his profession, only a passive nod and active listening. Two men carved from similar trees.

But eventually, the subject shifted again. To Ariel's true line of work. To the song that had been interrupted upstairs and the progress of his album. He would be on stage in just under an hour. Sedona's presence was a given.

Echo: Echo remained nestled in the pocket, her tiny frame shifting now and then as she peeked over the edge. Her eyes tracked Ariel’s movements with interest, occasionally flicking up to Sedona as her ears twitched at the conversation. From it she gathered what became obvious. The décor, the music, the scattered equipment—Ariel was a music entertainer.

Her attention drifted between the two men, amused by their back-and-forth. The contrast between Ariel’s apprehension and Sedona’s easy confidence was entertaining, but soon enough, the conversation lulled into more mundane topics. Echo yawned softly, curling up at the base of the pocket.

Sedona: Boring conversations for a little mouse with no stake in any subject but her own life. But, eventually, there was pizza, and with a mouthful of protests from their host she was coaxed from his pocket with an offering of the thinnest slice of plain cheese with oregano. Shouting ensued as she and her dinner were placed on the elevated kitchen bar.

Echo: The tempting aroma of cheese stirred Echo from her sleep, her nose twitching as she peeked out of the pocket. Lured by the promise of food, she hopped onto the counter, sitting carefully on her hind legs as she reached for her slice of pizza.

Delicately nibbling at the crust, she paused only to tidy herself when a smear of sauce clung to her fur. She meticulously cleaned the spot, ensuring she remained presentable. Her ears flicked back and forth, but she focused on maintaining her best manners. After all, she was a refined guest, not some scavenger.

Sedona: Talking Ariel down took some patience on Sedona's part, however humored he was, the temptation to slap his friend upside the head was nearly equal.

"See?" he said, presenting her with vague gestures, "she's a good girl. She's polite."

Ariel unglued himself from the wall by an inch.

Echo: Echo blinked and chewed on her slice, watching Ariel.

How about if she…

The pizza was momentarily forgotten as she got up to walk across the counter towards Ariel.

Ariel: "Ahh!" He was back against the sink again, all but sitting in it. "No! No! Get it!"

Echo: She looked at Sedona and then back at Ariel.

Really?

She sat down.

Sedona: "Does a wild rat-mouse act like that? C'mon, man. Quit bein' a pussy."

"It bites! They got rabies! You don't know where it's been."

Echo: Mouse. She was a mouse. Her squeaks probably wouldn’t translate to that.

Ariel: A noise that could hardly be heard over the EDM. Eventually, Ariel sidestepped the duo and retreated upstairs to change for work. Sedona planted himself on the couch, pizza and mouse in tow, offering crust to his shirt pocket which she'd been returned to.

Echo: Little paws reached up to accept the small tokens. She could be easily swayed by food, and the crumbs would serve as snacks for later.

Eventually, she would crawl out of his shirt pocket to climb onto his shoulder, making herself comfortable there. From this perch, she could see everything that was happening as they waited for Ariel.

Sedona: Sedona arched a brow, watching for a sudden movement he might have to catch for Ariel's sanity, but once again she proved herself tame.

Channel after channel was scrutinized for all of five seconds before flipped to the next. Muted, of course, with closed caption.

"So you don't feel magic? Like, nothing?"

The ghoul peeked from his loft.

"I mean, I get bad feelings?"

"That's just human shit." Nothing they could use to see if this little mouse was just a little mouse. Just a passing thought. Too sweet and intelligent for her own good.

No matter. She was coming along with them to January Embers. Walking the 11 blocks from the apartment to the sound of life and bass emanating from a gray unassuming building. January Embers cursive words of blue, red, and orange. The line was ignored, going around to the black door with the same name painted in white, guarded by two men in suits and their blue velvet rope.

Not even a pat down. The door was opened with a nod.

"You know she'll kill you if you let that thing loose."

"She'll kill you. She'll keep me in a cage."

Upon reaching the dance floor, the two men went their separate ways. Sedona made a beeline for the bar to the left of the great room. Blue and white lights danced off of every surface in time with Bulgarian trap EDM.

Echo: Adventure. That’s what this was, wasn’t it? Echo convinced herself of that as she settled into the pocket again, at least grateful she hadn’t been booted from it entirely. The ride itself wasn’t terrible; she had a decent view from the edge, her nose twitching curiously as the building came into view. The bold neon sign and the velvet rope told her everything—more music.

Still, as soon as they stepped inside, the bass hit her like a wave, each pulsating beat rattling her tiny frame. With a wince, she retreated deeper into the pocket, her ears flattening to shut out the overwhelming noise.

But it was too much. By the time they reached the bar, her patience had frayed. Her claws fidgeted at the edge of the fabric before she finally scrambled out. Whether she landed on the bartop or the floor didn’t matter—she wasn’t sticking around to find out. With a determined scurry, she darted off.

Sedona: Sedona watched the little mouse slip between the bar stools, weaving around oblivious human legs deeper into the darkness. His concern wasn't for Ariel's head. Neither was it for the vampire who would no doubt test his immortality should a mouse be caught in her nightclub.

His attention lingered on the floor for a beat, brought back by the cleared throat of the unamused bartender.

She would be squished by a security guard or make a grand escape underneath a door, whereby she would be the catalyst for a scandal. Either way, she was out of his hands, now occupied by a black and tan. Upstairs to the VIP lounge he went in search of the owner. It wasn't long before DJ Cass was announced. Trap effortlessly transitioning to witchhouse.

Echo: Dark and loud. That’s what the club felt like as Echo darted past the barstools, her small form weaving through a jungle of oblivious legs. She paused in the shadowed corner, her catching her breath as she looked around. To stay or to go—that was the question. The part of her tethered to Sedona wanted to stay, curious about him, the pull she couldn’t explain urging her forward. But reason whispered otherwise.

Curiosity won out.

She followed the careful, clicking footsteps of a woman heading toward the restroom. Moments later, the bathroom door eased open, and out stepped a young woman. White hair framed her face, her sharp blue eyes scanning the crowd as she adjusted the silver earbuds in her ears, muffling the music. Black shorts, a cropped black tank, and a jacket thrown over her shoulders made her blend with the nightlife.

Making her way to the bar where she had last seen Sedona, she motioned to the bartender to get his attention. Water for now as she scanned the crowd.

Sedona: Beyond the black velvet curtains, across the bridge of iron and glass, to the third floor overlooking the nightclub, Sedona finally had an audience to the nightclub's namesake. Whatever name she had been born with, he didn't know. Never cared to ask. Her curiosity had been to his advantage. Several times she had offered her blood, offered to legitimize his existence with a false birth certificate. Honeyed words and trinkets. Cash money and base comforts were all he desired from here to kingdom come.

With business out of the way, Sedona returned to the second floor. A few base desires were still unaccounted for. He scoped the life below, slowly crossing the bridge back to the VIP lounges, fingers light on the rail as he scanned from the DJ both to the exit doors to the bar.

Echo: The stairs caught her eye, but regret simmered under her skin. She’d been too hasty hopping out of his pocket. Now, she could only guess where Sedona had disappeared to—up those stairs, perhaps, or across the bridge she’d glimpsed earlier. His life was... layered, she decided.

Her gaze dropped to the drink set in front of her, condensation trailing lazily down the glass.

Not water.

Her brows furrowed, tilting her head slightly as she took in the colored liquid. A glance to her side revealed the culprit: a man, too pleased with himself, lifting his drink in cheers like they were old friends.

Echo’s lips pressed into a thin line as she slid the drink back toward the bartender with a pointed push.

“Water.”

Sedona: Not until the melody skipped and tumbled over the next singer's chorus did Sedona finally move. A young couple next to him awkwardly making a go at conversation had become sandpaper in his ear. He didn't know pain, but secondhand embarrassment had to be a close second. What happened to people? Somewhere along the way, walking up and saying hello had become a horror show. At least the hasty costumed goths were pursuing an attempt. He just didn't want to be around to listen.

So it was back downstairs he went, mourning the bottom of his glass.

"Double tequila," he greeted, pushing his empty glass next to - what was that?

And... that was white hair.

He stared for a beat.

"You drinkin' that?"

Echo: It probably had pineapple in it. That’s why it looked like a neon disaster of yellow and orange. Echo wrinkled her nose, her fingers drumming softly on the bar top as she glanced at the glass again. Blue curaçao too, judging by the almost fluorescent hue. The smell was enough to confirm it.

She didn’t look at the man across the room who had locked onto her as his next destination. No need to encourage that. She would take her water to go.

But just as she slid to the edge of her seat, a familiar voice made her pause. She turned her head, eyebrows softening at the sight of Sedona.

“All yours,” she replied, eyeing the questionable concoction in front of her, “if you agree to be his date.”

Her head tilted toward the blond man inching closer with an air of determined interest.

“Looks like he’s into you."

Sedona: "What? Not into blondes?"

He had thought the cocktail to be a fuzzy navel at first glance. The strobe lights playing tricks on him. Whatever it was, the straw was discarded and its contents taken wholesale.

"Mm. Mm-mm. That's orange. Ugh man. Well that's gone. What do you actually want?"

Echo: "I don't go for financial bros."

She watched as the cocktail disappeared...so quickly.

"Not a fan of orange?"

She smiled gently and reached out to take the water that finally had been delivered.

"This is good for now."

Sedona: "Ate too many as a kid."

Was he fairing any better than the mighty duo upstairs? He smiled to himself, then to her.

"Best thing about this place. The water's free."

He would take her words with possible double meanings. She was content with her own company. The drink was no longer her problem, and a glass with two fingers of tequila was now his.

"For now," he echoed. "Maybe I'll circle and come back and ask again."

Echo: A two-finger wave was offered to the man as she watched him leave, taking a sip from her water until her view was blocked by someone sliding into the empty spot next to her.

Echo stayed at the bar, half-turning in her seat to survey the crowd, her gaze drifting up to the DJ. He looked so calm and collected now, when not long ago, he’d been screaming and standing on his bed in her other form. A smirk tugged at her lips. She could almost hear him losing his mind if he found her staring at him while he slept.

She shouldn't torment the poor man.

She hardly knew him.

But her smile faltered as the same man from earlier approached again, her expression wavering before she straightened it into something more practiced. Fine. She’d entertain him—for now, at least. She had noticed the gold watch on his wrist.

As the conversation flowed, she made a point to smile, spotting the watch to be real. A moment of laughter passed between them, and Echo placed her hand on his wrist, applying a subtle pressure with her thumb before giving it a quick flick. She leaned in to whisper that she wanted a drink, and in the distraction, she slipped the Rolex off and into her pocket.

Sedona: Ariel was in his own little world, surrounded by others in their own little worlds. His arms never stopped moving. Either part of a dance or tweaking something on his table. A woman in a glittering navy dress brought a single shot glass to his booth. Its red contents appeared black in the limited light. A word whispered in his ear, a nod, and she was gone. He raised his glass high, toasting his beloved audience before tilting his head back.

He knew what it was, as did Sedona, and every bartender in attendance. Nearly everyone on the payroll supped from the same vein.

But Sedona would never sample January's wares, much to her quiet irritation. He would not partake of any experiment. As far as he was concerned he had paid his dues.

By the stairs once more, watching Ariel lose himself in his music, his thoughts began to drift to the woman at the bar.

Echo: The man didn’t notice, too absorbed in ordering for the girl beside him. Being a few shots deep helped him miss the absence of his watch entirely. Echo leaned her cheek into the palm of her hand, her eyes lazily studying him. Finance? Maybe. Trust fund? More likely. He certainly wasn’t 6’5, but he did have blue eyes.

Not that it mattered—her interest wasn’t in him. Her attention drifted back to the crowd and then toward the stairs, searching for Sedona, but he’d long disappeared. Maybe he’d come back.

Rum and Coke became her focus, the fizzy sweetness dancing on her tongue as she sipped. She humored the man’s conversation, letting it pass as background noise while she made it halfway through her drink. But soon, she’d had enough. Politely, she began making excuses to leave, drink in hand, her interest long gone.

As she turned to go, a firm grip wrapped around her arm. She blinked, looking up at him, her small frame dwarfed by his. At just five feet tall, she had to tilt her head back to meet his gaze.

Where was she going? And where was his watch?

Sedona: His thoughts had drifted to her, and so too had his gaze. It seemed she had warmed up to the orange cocktail man. There was no need for him to circle around and try again. It had been a silly stupid idea to begin with. One to gauge her sense of humor.

He was about to look away. Return his attention to the livelier areas of the club when sudden movement in his peripheral arrested his attention.

He couldn't have chosen anyone else? Not the woman in red to his right? Not the woman with black lipstick and pink eyeshadow two chairs down? Why did the asshole choose her, and compel him to feel anything?

Soon a hand mirrored his, squeezed harshly into his muscles.

"Act like you gonna do somethin' to a woman right here right now. I dare you."

Echo: Echo’s gaze snapped to the man gripping her arm, her expression unreadable for a beat as she sized him up.

Clearly, she didn’t know what happened to his watch. She hadn’t seen him wearing a one—at least, not anymore. Still, he wasn’t buying it. When she shifted to step away, his grip tightened, and she stilled. She wasn’t looking to cause a scene.

Before she could speak, Sedona made good on his promise. She let her weight shift, pulling her arm free the moment the man's grip slackened. The man’s mouth opened, maybe to stammer out an excuse or escalate further, but Echo tilted her head, addressing him with a cool smile.

“You should probably leave before he decides to follow through.”

A flicker of calculation crossed the man’s face before he muttered something under his breath and turned on his heel. Out a watch, a drink, and any shred of dignity, he stalked off.

Echo watched him go, the tension in her shoulders easing as she turned back to Sedona.

“Thank you. You saved him from getting a black eye.”

Sedona: The man wouldn't make it to the end of the bar before their bartender hollered for a paid tab. No doubt with a wounded pride an argument would soon escalate. The stranger's hand was taken. Gently tugged to disappear on the dance floor. He didn't need that kind of heat, and he didn't need Platinum pointing fingers at her rescuer.

"What the hell you do to him?" A question asked in her ear to penetrate the cacophony.

Echo: Echo glanced over her shoulder, catching sight of the man being stopped by the bartender. Oh, he was really having a night, and it tickled her. Karma could be ruthless.

Letting herself be tugged onto the dance floor, she followed easily, the bass thrumming through her chest. She leaned in closer to her rescuer, looking up at him with a sly smile.

“I said thanks but no thanks.”

Then, with a slight shrug and an almost playful lilt, she added, “And... I may have stolen his watch.”

The grin she gave was equal parts mischievous and unapologetic.

“He was being a dick.”

Sedona: She wasn't snatching her hand back, wasn't turning her back on him. If they were on the dance floor, might as well pretend. His arm wrapped around her ribs, slowly raising her to her toes.

"Lemme guess. You stole his watch, then said no thanks, and he's not an idiot."

Echo: “I said no thanks first,” she countered. “He just didn’t want to listen.”

The arm around her waist brought her closer, her feet naturally lifting onto her toes in rhythm with the pull. She smirked, glancing up at him.

“Thought he was too drunk to notice,” she said, placing her hands on his shoulders. “Guess I underestimated him.”

Sedona: He conceded her point with a nod. Didn't matter if he'd been an ass or not. He wouldn't remember the man's face by tomorrow.

"Pablo can take him," he smirked. The music was of little consequence to their dance. "Maybe you, too, but you're a lil thief."

Echo: “Allegedly,” she shot back, her smile teasing as she leaned into the accusation.

“I said I may have stolen it. Doesn’t mean I’m guilty.”

Her grin, however, betrayed her innocence.

Her hand slipped into her jacket pocket, and a moment later, the weight of the watch dropped into his.

“Sell it, keep it, toss it,” she said with a shrug.

“Consider it my thanks for the rescue.”

Sedona: "Mhm. Mhm. Lil thief explainin' herself to the cops if she knocked his ass out."

The weight of his gift caused a laugh.

"Badass bitch. What the fuck's your name?"

Echo: “What are you talking about?” she tilted her head toward him.

“I was dancing with you the whole time,” a wink following her words.

“And for the record,” she added, stepping just a bit closer, “I would have knocked his ass out if you hadn’t stepped in.”

Her gaze drifted upward, catching on his face. She hadn’t noticed his dual-colored eyes before. They were striking and held her attention for a moment longer than she intended.

“Echo.”

Sedona: He knew what that look was about. She had caught his eyes. Fair was fair, she had stolen his attention with hair he was certain came from a box. Still, striking. Lure from an anglerfish no doubt.

"Echo," he echoed, scoffing at his own joke. "Sedona. Nice to meet a real life femme fatale."

Echo: “I hear it’s hot there.”

One name each, fitting for this brief introduction. As she sized him up, so far, nothing about him had set her on edge. She had been a familiar to only one other, so she had to be sure.

“Something tells me that you’re trouble yourself.”

Sedona: "Somethin' like that." His shoulder rose and fell. "You judgin' me, sticky fingers? What's trouble to trouble?"

Echo: "A lil." Her hand lifted to gently pat him on the cheek. "It's a recipe for questionable choices."

Sedona: "Only thing I'm questionin' is why we down here prom dancin'. Wanna go upstairs? Get somethin' to smoke."

Echo: She stifled a giggle, taking a step back. "Lead the way, Arizona."

Sedona: He liked the feel of his arm around her. There may be more, but the tactile pleasure was committed to memory, for now.

A step back, another. Sedona led the way upstairs to one of the few open booths remaining. A nearly complete circle of blue pincushion leather. A steel and glass table stood center. A single black button on the wall was nearly indistinguishable from the wood paneling.

Their velvet curtain was closed, the button pushed.

Echo: She allowed his arm to linger as they went up the stairs, her hands tucked into her jacket pockets. Her gaze flicked around the upper level, noting the exits just in case and the quieter atmosphere. It was a welcome change. The soft click of the button drew her attention back to Sedona, her brow arching.

“What’s that for?”

Sedona: A glance back to the button.

"Waiter. Whatever you want, s'on me." In the meantime, he felt for the pack of cigarettes in his jeans.

"For a price. Tell me about yourself."

Echo: Another rum and coke would suffice for now. Her hands remained in her pockets, looking squarely at the man.

“What price are you willing to pay?”

Sedona: "What you want?" he asked, cigarette wedged between his lips.

Echo: “To know more about you.” She reached over to steal the cigarette from his lips claiming it as hers, leaning in for it to be lit.

Sedona: "So we want the same thing. I asked first so I win." His frown didn't match his action, lighting his cigarette.

Echo: "I asked second, and two is more than one. I win." She leaned back, taking a drag of her cigarette.

Sedona: "Well then ask something. Not gonna just pull shit out my ass." He reached for his cigarette, determined to get at least one puff from it.

Echo: “Ew.”

Echo leaned back, holding the cigarette out of his reach between two fingers as she tipped her head back to release a puff of smoke.

“Age, sex, location.”

She took another drag.

“What’s your story?”

Sedona: Hmm. She would get a pass, for now. He would be leaning over for the last centimeter of that cigarette before she stamped it out. Now it was just a waiting game.

He leaned back in his seat. How old did he look? He didn't think he had aged much since 1991, but no one mistook him for 19 anymore.

"Twenty... six. Boy from Arizona. Got no story."

Echo: “Bull shit.”

She leaned in now, personal space be damned as she eyed him. She smelled of lavender and vanilla.

“You’re weird, or else I…”

Almost slipped.

“You wouldn’t have recognized my game. Spill.”

The dead ash of the cigarette was tapped off, holding out what remained to the man.

Sedona: Was this a liars recognize liars situation? Probably. He looked at her hair again, just a quick glance as he closed the gap, taking a drag from the cigarette between her fingers. She could keep it.

"Wouldn't believe me," he sighed, letting smoke escape his mouth and nostrils.

Echo: He was starting to catch on. She watched as he closed that distance, lips getting dangerously close to her fingers. Bold.

“Try me.”

Sedona: "Gimmie somethin'. I'm a man from Arizona. Now you," he smirked. "Then maybe somethin'."

Echo: “My favorite color is purple.” Two could play this. The last drag of the cigarette was taken before it was snubbed out.

“Your turn.”

Sedona: "Purple's not a state. Just sayin'."

The curtain was pulled back just enough for a man in a white button down and black vest to slip within. Another tan and black for himself. Rum and coke for Echo. A nod and he was gone.

"I don't think I got a favorite color."

Echo: "You said to give you something. I obliged."

She looked up when the server came by, smiling in appreciation.

"Twenty four, girl from Sidra'val."

Her attention was on Sed as she looked over the rim of her glass, sipping her drink.

"Mm...it's orange now."

Sedona: "What country's that in?" He scooted back far enough to stretch his feet out over the cushions. Now if only he still had his cigarette.

"What was it yesterday?"

Echo: What country could it be in? Hm.

"Russia? Maybe Canada." How do you explain that you came from a different plane? She'd figure it out eventually.

"No, I meant that's your favorite color now."

Sedona: "Russia, maybe Canada," he echoed. "You know, why not Sweden? or Mongolia?" he laughed.

"Mine? We decidin' each other's colors? Fine. You're... blue."

Echo: “Oh, I do like Sweden, that might be fun to be from there.”

She set her drink down with a faint clink.

“Do I look like I’m from there?” She dragged a hand through her hair, pulling it over one shoulder as if to examine the white strands.

“Teal,” she said thoughtfully. “I could work with that. It’s got more personality than just blue.”

Sedona: He considered her choice pushed upon him. "Blood orange," he shrugged. "I guess I like it." After all, it was on his overshirt. Why not? He just didn't think about it.

"So why you get to be from some made up place and I gotta be from Arizona?"

Echo: She tilted her head gently, considering this compromise. She was fine with this.

“Alright, teal and orange it is.” She stuck her hand out as if to shake on this.

Her playful demeanor shifted slightly when he pressed further, and she sat up straighter, brushing a loose strand of hair from her face.

“It’s complicated, I’ll tell you more, but you’d call me a liar.” Not yet, but soon maybe.

"What about you? What brings Arizona all the way to New York?”

Sedona: She offered her hand, and he offered his finger, going out of his way to shake up and down and side to side.

"On the run from some mafioso, stole government secrets, or like, escaped some handsy prince?" Yes, he was ignoring her question until he had more of his.

Echo: She leaned back against the cushion, the leather cool against her arms, and let her smile linger for a beat before answering.

“No, nothing quite that exciting,” she said, her voice softening just a touch. “My…” She hesitated. What should she call her?

“Adoptive mom passed. It’s been... a lot to figure out without her. So, I packed up and decided a fresh start couldn’t hurt. New York seemed as good a place as any.”

Her eyes flicked back to his, the shadow of vulnerability quickly masked by a smirk. “So, you gonna keep dodging my question, or do I have to guess what brought you here?”

Sedona: Sedona offered a noncommittal noise as he sipped his drink. "There's my answer," he sighed. "New York was somethin' to do. LA sucked. People sucked. Vibe sucked. Wanted someplace... where I could disappear."

His hand came out, only to fall on his raised knee. "Good enough?"

Echo: “Disappear? What are you runnin’ from, Arizona boy?”

The straw was fiddled with as she slowly stirred her drink, watching lazily as the ice cubes danced with each other.

Sedona: "My family." His gaze remained fixed on her expression, watching to see what was going to be too much.

Echo: She had noticed the scars, and now wondered. Her attention focused on the drink, still.

“What did they do?”

Sedona: A beat of relative silence. The music beyond the curtain had picked up. Something akin to drum and bass.

He wouldn't look anywhere else. She was all that existed.

"Worshipped me."

Echo: The music thrummed in the background. For a moment, she stayed still, her fingers brushing idly along the rim of her drink. His words hung in the air and her heart skipped a beat.

Finally, she lifted her gaze, blue meeting his mismatched stare.

“Why?”

Sedona: "You'd call me a liar," he mirrored, his smile mostly for show, hardly wrinkling the skin around his eyes. And just like that, his smile was gone.

"You're that kinda weird, aren't you? The kind we're not supposed to talk about in public, kinda weird."

Echo: “I wouldn’t…”

But that smile was gone and the air seemed to change. Her sneaker dug into the ground, hands on either side of her incase she needed to push off and abandon the booth.

“We’re all weird…aren’t we?”

Her nails dug against the leather.

Sedona: "I won't tell, if you won't." Her posture was noted. Her drink abandoned on the table. He scoffed.

"What you think I'm gonna do, fuckin' bite?"

Echo: “I don’t know what type of weird you are. So yes…”

Self-preservation had been ingrained in her.

Sedona: "I don't know what kinda weird you are, either. Guess that makes us even, don't it?"

Echo: She watched him carefully, curiosity winning out.

“Why did your family worship you?”

The answer had to lie here.

Sedona: She'd asked twice. If she thought he was full of shit, she would have left by now. Or not. She had her own bullshit going on. Maybe this was still a game to her. Then, what harm was there in truth if it was meaningless.

"Because they wanted someone to lead the discarded after rapture."

Echo: Her gaze returned back to the drink, her fingers drumming against the blue leather. Finally, she reached for the glass, her posture relaxing. Whatever had gone through her head was enough to convince her to stay.

“You’d make a shit leader.”

Sedona: Was she about to get up? He wouldn't blame her if she did. Even a pathological liar could only take so much shit from other people. Her name could be Sarah from Oklahoma for all he knew.

But instead she sipped, and lingered, leaving him momentarily dumbstruck, then pleasantly surprised.

His smile reached his eyes this time.

"Yeah. Yeah, I would. But I can quote the Bible like a motherfucker. Should have me on some holy gameshow."

Echo: She looked over at the man, resting her cheek in the palm of her hand. Her gaze softened when that smile returned to his face, and she felt a sense of relief in her chest.

"Somehow I think you would still lose. You'd offend the host and get kicked off the show."

Her smile had returned.

"I would still watch it."

Sedona: He couldn't recall the last time he'd conversed with what he called weirdos. Someone not a ghoul or a vampire. There was a mage he saw here and there, but he was the odd exception. The one the vampires tolerated, much like himself. What was she, he wondered. He found himself reluctant to ask. The mystery added something.

"It's my potty mouth." He was grinning, like he was proud of it. "What you grow up, Catholic? Buddhist?"

Echo: "Mhm, but don't you dare fucking change." A finger was pointed at him before the cup was lifted to take another mouthful with some ice cubes to chew on.

"Mm-mm," she shook her head at each guess.

"Mom was more of a naturalist. Druid if you will. The gods had disappointed her enough."

Sedona: "I've heard of them. Like, Scottish or somethin'? Tree huggin' old guys with beards. Women with hair down to their feet."

It only just struck him, her eagerness, her insistence he stay as is. He didn't know what to make of that. Only that it felt good.

Echo: "Ah, is that what you think of me if I say I am the same?" Her hair wasn't that long, but it was rapidly approaching her waist.

"I choose to not put my faith in any one being. How about you, Mr. Bible?"

Sedona: A little noise left his throat, swallowed up by the ambiance. He'd fish for his cigarettes again, tossing the empty pack on the table.

"Complicated. Like a bad ex."

Echo: Her hand covered her mouth, hiding a smile. Instead, her attention shifted to the empty box that was tossed on the table.

"Want to head out and get some more?"

Sedona: "You're not gonna have a gang of bearded guys in cloaks jump me around the buildin'?"

Echo: "Only if you try anything weird."

What little remained of her drink disappeared, and her hand, palm up, was extended out in invitation to take.

"Come on."

Sedona: Sedona looked from her hand to her face. She kept him on his toes. That he could say with certainty.

He took the offer with a playful slap, like a high five, and swung their arms.

Echo: She curled her fingers around his hand, pulling him out of the booth. She wouldn't let go until they were outside, suddenly greeted by the sharp temperature drop.

The jacket was zipped up, and her hands stuffed in her pockets. She hadn't thought this all the way through. Oh well.

"Walgreens?"

Sedona: Her jacket was... acceptable. It was everything else that gave him pause. And there he was, mid-December without a coat, gloves, or even a useless baseball cap.

"You're gonna freeze to death."

Echo: Now, outside of the club, it was much quieter, which meant she didn't need her loops. The silver earbuds were taken out and pocketed as she glanced up at the voiced concern. He was in the same boat as far as she could tell.

"Then you better run fast," was the only warning he got before she took off down the sidewalk toward the pharmacy.

Sedona: Already his bare arms had begun to gooseflesh. Not that he noticed, laughing as she took off. He was quick to follow. Long legs easily catch up, slowing just enough to match her speed.

The sliding doors forced them to pause, opening with a squeal of metal against metal.

"Hello, welcome," someone called from between the aisles.

The back of Echo's hand was brushed with rough fingers.

Echo: Her pace slowed as they reached the store, her steps lighter now as she led the way in. Down the aisle they went, breezing past the rows of cigarettes and candy to explore the store.

When Sed’s fingers brushed the back of her hand, she glanced over her shoulder and smiled at him. Without hesitation, she took his hand in hers and tugged him along, pulling him deeper into the shop.

Stopping in front of a rack of cheap tourist trinkets, Echo grabbed a black, bedazzled beanie with “Brooklyn” splashed across the front in bold, glittering letters. She yanked it on with a laugh.

“This,” she declared, turning to look up at him, “is exactly what I need. You think they have matching sweatpants?”

Sedona: His smile was now a permanent fixture, her fingers squeezed in his as she led them up and down the aisles. He didn't care. Caring meant wanting to be somewhere else, and without plans, his world revolved around this moment, this woman, and that was just fine.

"S'good," he laughed. "Maybe?" There was a rotating rack of hoodies and sweaters. He gave it a turn. Sweatpants, not bedazzled, but Brooklyn printed in large gold letters.

"Close enough?"

Echo: She groaned at the sight of the sweatpants, the bold gold lettering glinting offensively under the store’s fluorescent lights.

“I have to, don’t I?”

She was next to him, holding them up to her waist.

“Fine,” she sighed, draping them over her arm.

With a quick pivot, she was off down the aisle, disappearing around the corner, only to be found standing in front of a wall of brightly colored candy.

“Alright, what’s your poison? Sweet? Sour? Chocolate?”

Sedona: "You done said it." Annnnd off she went again. The kind of energy he appreciated. He wondered how old she was - really was. If she was a weirdo like him, then her appearance was no indication of truth.

Around the corner he went.

"Gum, suckers, and gum. Gum in suckers."

Echo: Added to Sedona’s hands were a box of Buncha Crunch, a small bag of blow pops and a pack of gum. The small hoard of candy was assessed before a bag of sour gummy worms was added to the growing pile. Perfect. Now to get the thing they actually came here for.

“Anything else?”

Sedona: Well, the Buncha Crunch was clearly for her. Nostalgia. He realized he'd seen it the first time in a movie theater by himself. The more she added the larger his smile became.

"We're missin' Pop Rocks and Ring Pop." If they were being indulgent, then they really needed to be indulgent.

Echo: She tilted her head up at him, a grin spreading across her face at the additions.

“Bet.”

She swept the shelf, snatching up all three Pop Rocks flavors, two Ring Pops, and, because overindulgence was now the theme, one box of Reese’s Pieces for good measure.

“Aaaand….done.”

She was laughing again as she eyed the mountain of candy they had.

“This isn’t what we came here for,” she mock scolded as she shifted behind him, placing her hands firmly on his back and started marching him toward the register.

“We’re leaving, before you add anything else.”

Sedona: "They don't make candy cigarettes anymore, or we'd be set." Was he giving his age away? Did she even know what was a thing?

"Aww, but mom!" he laughed. Not much muscle was required to move him forward, dumping their treasures on the counter, to the displeasure of their cashier.

"I got shit at home. We good."

Echo: He would get a look as she stood at his side, the cashier ringing up the items.

"What do you have at home?"

Was that where they were going next?

Sedona: "Smokes n'shit." It hit him when it hit her. Hearing the word 'home' from her lips was a thump to his forehead.

"Unless you wanna go back to Embers?"

Echo: The slip made her grin, a shake of her head following as the total was announced.

She started digging for her wallet as she waved off the suggestion of the club—it was way too loud there. Instead, she presented her card to the cashier.

“We could walk to the park?”

Going to his place felt a little too soon, at least in this form.

Sedona: "You wanna go to the park?" His smile returned. He understood. He didn't know why he'd jumped the gun if not for the pile of candy being pushed into a plastic bag. But, one thing had to be addressed first.

"Gotta change into them sweatpants. Or you'll like, die," he laughed. "I don't want that on my conscience."

Echo: "Got a better idea?" she asked, though her gaze drifted down to her bare legs, realizing the flaw in her own plan. Touché.

"Wait!"

The cashier sighed, visibly exasperated as Echo snatched her card back and darted down the tourist aisle. A minute or two later, she returned triumphantly, clutching a hoodie as atrocious as her sweatpants—but this time, in his size.

"Okay," she declared, flashing the cashier a bright, unapologetic smile. With confidence she plucked his wallet from his back pocket and handed over bills instead to pay.

One bag of candy, a hoodie, and sweatpants later, they were free.

Sedona: "Ey yo, where's the beanie? Changed your mind?" he called. The cashier could frown till kingdom come, it made no difference.

But the feeling of lightness from his back pocket, that made a difference.

"Shoulda kept my damn chain," he muttered, snatching back his bifold. The drinks at the club were one thing; the infinite tab would never close. It was another for her to assume her clothes were part of the same deal. The principle of the thing. He'd keep that in his pocket, for now, better than his wallet. It was over and done with.

"Gonna go change?" He asked, hovering by the door.

Echo: She returned to the counter, still wearing the beanie she’d nearly walked out with. Good catch.

“Ah! Guess it’s meant to be,” she laughed, slipping it off and handing it to the cashier. She shot a quick glance at Sedona. They were definitely going to get murdered.

“I’ll pay you back,” she added, though she wasn’t sure how convincing she sounded.

With their haul paid for, she requested a separate transaction for the beanie and two packs of the same cigarettes he’d been smoking at the club. The beanie went right back onto her head as soon as she paid.

Digging through the bag, she fished out the sweatpants and made a beeline for the bathroom. A few minutes later, she emerged, arms spread wide as she gave a little spin.

“Well? What do you think?"

Sedona: He had stayed. He couldn't believe he had stayed. Had anyone else made a grab for his wallet they wouldn't have a functional hand to wipe their ass with. Anyone else would have been left to the sneering cashier's company.

But she didn't mean anything by it... right? Just a bit of chaos. That's what she was.

He was getting soft. There could be no other explanation as her return put a smile back on his face. He made a show of looking at her, biting his lip as he scrutinized.

"Yeah. You look like a cheerleader."

Echo: He was still there, and that alone brought a wave of relief. Had she thought about disappearing? Sure—she had every reason to, having gathered enough information to slip away. But something about his company pulled her back despite her instincts.

Her face lit up seeing him there, smiling at her and even leaning into the bit. She decided then and there that she liked him.

"Well you can match!" she declared, pulling the hoodie from the bag and pressing it firmly against his chest. The bag of candy was taken and rifled through, Echo already stepping outside. A blow pop was taken out and held towards him.

Sedona: The hoodie was draped over his forearm as he set to work buttoning his over shirt. The only acceptable instance, not to be seen by a soul as he slipped the hoodie on. There was the damn word, Brooklyn bold and proud in three places between them. They couldn't look more tourist.

"Grape? Yeahhhh." The Blow Pop was accepted with cheers. "Pop Rocks grape, too?" More and more nostalgia, craving a grape soda to wash it down.

Echo: A snort escaped her, quickly followed by giggles, as Sed tugged on the hoodie. She gave him a nod of approval.

“Mm, I think we’re reppin’ pretty well,” she said, smirking.

“Oh, hold on…” She rummaged through the bag, pulling out a black package with a triumphant grin before handing it to him.

“Grape. But you’re sharing.”

As they started toward the park, she opened her package of sour gummy worms, biting down on one and tugging it free with her teeth.

“So why didn’t you leave? Just now?”

Sedona: "You wanted me to leave?" He stared at the road ahead, the stick of his sucker bobbing from the side of his mouth. "Lemme guess. You think people are gonna leave because some asshole somewhere was an asshole, so now you, what, beat em to it?"

Sedona leaned in, looked over his shoulder, and whispered, "You're weird." But she did have a great laugh. Maybe that was part in reason why he stayed.

Echo: “Nah, you’re starting to grow on me.”

She looked up at him. A whole foot taller, but that didn’t faze her. Reaching up, she brushed her fingers against his cheek.

“So are you,” she added and she liked that about him.

Another gummy worm met its end between her teeth, her chewing slow and content.

“So, what’s your weird?” she asked, tilting her head slightly. She’d seen glimpses, enough to pique her curiosity, but not enough to piece it all together. Maybe he was some kind of mage with rapid healing magic—she hadn’t quite pinned it down yet.

Sedona: The touch was so gentle and so random. For a moment, all he could do was blink. And then it was over. The warmth of her hand absent and selfishly missed. He crunched down on the Blow Pop, determined for the gum. His oral fixation suddenly wasn't cutting it.

"Nothin' special," he shrugged, eyes forward again. "No fangs, no fur, no magic."

Echo: “No fun.”

She smirked, glancing away for a moment. But still, what he said didn’t sound right.

That night—the one where she’d been chased—flashed in her mind.

“Mm-mm,” she said, snapping her gaze back to him. “You don’t get worshipped for being ‘not special.’”

The math wasn’t mathing.

Her eyes narrowed slightly. “Are you human?”

Sedona: His smile was forced through his teeth, munching away on hard sugar as he weeded out the gum from between the pieces.

"You don't get answers just 'cause you ask shit. You ain't gettin' somethin' for nothin'."

Echo: Touché, tall man. She’d play along.

“Alright, what do you want?”

They stepped into the park, Echo’s gaze drifting as she scanned the grounds for something.

"I'll answer honestly." She held out her pinky to him.

Sedona: Right. He had no way of knowing, but he took her little finger anyway.

"What makes you an expert in what is and ain't special?"

He wasn't about to sit his ass on the frozen ground. There was a wooden picnic table underneath a tree. That was his destination.

Echo: Her finger curled around his, a small nod sealing the deal.

As they walked toward the table, her hand slipped back into her pocket.

“Because I’m weird, like you said.”

She chewed her lip, hesitating for just a moment before committing.

"I can do magic."

Sedona: Sedona looked back at her, but didn't say a word. He wouldn't until seated, pulling his new hood over his head to block an unwelcome breeze.

"I know that kinda weird," he finally said. "Sorta. Know people that know people. Meet em once kinda know."

Echo: She couldn’t get a read on him, or his thoughts and that itch— that need to know ate at her. She followed after him but didn’t sit right away, watching him instead.

“Well, now you know another one.”

Echo's gaze shifted, landing on what she’d been looking for beside the table. She crouched, plucking a wilted wildflower with care. The faintest hum of intent passed through her as the petals slowly unfurled, orange and vibrant against the bleakness of the weather. She moved to sit next to him, slowly twirling the flower between her fingers.

“I’m a familiar.”

Sedona: There was a lot to take in at once. Her reluctance to sit. The plucking of a dying flower. Magic. The very subject pending between them laid bare. Now she was sitting next to him, not across.

She wanted him to see these things. She wanted his nearness. She held his hand. She wanted to know why he didn't leave.

All of the pieces were there, like a puzzle, but the image wasn't yet clear.

Familiar, she said. He scrambled to connect the word with meaning.

"Like a cat on a broomstick?"

Echo: Carefully she treaded forward, blue eyes searching his face. What was he thinking? What was he feeling? That invisible thread between them pulled at her, urging her fingers to reach for his hood and gently tug it back so she could see him fully. But she held back, her attention shifting instead to the flower twirling between her fingers.

“Yeah, but not all familiars are cats,” she said, her voice softer. “They can take any shape.”

A dark brow arched as a small smile ghosted across her lips, her gaze lingering on the vibrant petals.

Would he piece it together?

Sedona: Not quite, though not from a lack of trying. He stared at the flower for a beat, tearing his gaze away to fish through their bag of goodies for something else. Something for his hands to do. From the bottom of the bag he retrieved a Ring Pop and offered it.

"So... What kinda shape are-"

It took asking for the final piece to land on the board. The ring fell from his hand, caught before it touched the table.

"Where'd my mouse go? You? You my mouse?"

Echo: The twirling slowed, her focus shifting as the glint of the Ring Pop caught her eye.

Sure.

She shrugged, accepting the candy with a casual nod, but before she could answer, his words trailed off, and that last piece fell into place. The look on his face made her snort, hand coming up to cover her mouth.

“I like being chased, but not when that means I’m going to become something’s dinner. So thank you for saving me.”

The crinkle of the wrapper filled the pause as she unwrapped the candy, sliding it onto her finger, admiring it.

“I told you I’m weird.”

Sedona: His mother always told him common sense would get him farther than books alone. Practical judgment had saved his existence on more than one occasion, he was sure of it.

So, if he were to follow the same string of logic that had led him to this moment, what else would he discover?

"I'm not a witch." Perhaps that was obvious to her, but needed to be stated to gauge her response.

Echo: “I know.”

Her tone was light, unfazed and she found it as peculiar as he did. Instead, she stared the candy ring on her finger before giving it a thoughtful lick, her gaze finally drifting back to him.

“But… something about you brought me here.”

Her brow furrowed slightly, not in frustration but in concentration, as if trying to put words to a feeling. “It’s like… there’s this thread. I don’t know how or why, but it’s tied to you.”

Sedona: Sedona looked down at his chest, as though he might see this phantom thread. Of course he wouldn't. What he was, was remarkable, but what he was, he'd learned years ago, was severely limited by comparison.

"So, what you want?"

Echo: She shifted in her seat to face him fully, her expression softer now, curious but sincere.

“Do you want to see me again?”

Sedona: He felt at the lining of his hair. Scratched behind his ear. This felt like a trick. He looked around the park for a tell and found none. Did things like this happen? He dared to ask, despite his entire life. Logic reared its head again; if an angel or devil could stick their nose in his business and deem him fit to die a thousand times, why not a little mouse fall in his lap?

"Well, yeah. You're cool."

Echo: Echo watched him, moving to close the gap between them. Her hands reached for his, her fingers cold to the touch.

“Then its settled. You are mine as I am yours. Master and familiar.”

As the words left her lips, a subtle hum of energy flickered between their hands—a soft, almost imperceptible pulse of magic that rippled outward, like the faint vibrations of a plucked string. The connection was instantaneous, intangible yet there, settling into place like it had always belonged.

“Whatever you feel, I’ll feel. It’s a tether—like an extension of you. I’m here to help you, guide you... in every way I can. And I promise to always protect you.”

#sedonagenn #echo #arielcassidy #whisperedfromthevoid #along came a mouse #along came a mouse pt 1

2 notes · View notes