#but if you play metal hes pelting you out of the room with chalk
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@duelmarks said : ❝ Hey doc, I had a fine idea — what if my next mod ain't just any ol' thing but an in-built music player? Y'know, like those gadgets folks carry around, but right there in my chassis. Just picture it, ridin' along with them tunes playin' right from within! ❞ // attacks Ratio
⸻ whenever the cyborg comes prancing along to his refuge of sanctitude , it can only lead to the brewing of a catastrophic storm. by the whip lashed to his waist or as a result of other measures , is a scenario the doctor does not wish to examine. nor , realise the dormant inevitability.
for now , the request remains guileless enough , though hardly anything can be ruled out when it orbits the gunslinger. since — by and large — repercussions move with him in every stride , sowing disasters in his very wake. leaving the scholar to deal with the troublesome aftermath , should calamity befall unsuspecting victims.
legs cross in his sat posture , addressing the consumer amidst the process of ordering an impromptu alteration. ❝ i would not waste my imagination on your trivial proposition. ❞ latched along ebony , his fingers drum against the arm of his chair , as if in deep thought — ruminating on this harmless but unnecessary adjustment.
pitched , his chin tilts , caught by an index and thumb whereupon he rests to mull over the outcome. ❝ this isn’t an attempt to bypass the capabilities of the synesthesia beacon , is it ? ❞ of course , the mundanite knows the dilemma associated with the revolutionary advancement. that pressing complication , by no means , indicates he has any intention of restoring it.
❝ besides , i dread the arrangements you would play. ❞
#* ✦ 𝐈𝐈. ❮ asks ❯ ⸻ ❝#* ✦ 𝐕𝐈. ❮ muses ❯ ⸻ ❝ 「 veritas ratio 」#* ✦ duelmarks#* ✦ duelmarks | boothill#hi robin#boothill im sorry i gave you like the villain sitting in his chair pose#maybe give him a sample then he'll reconsider#but if you play metal hes pelting you out of the room with chalk
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Alliance
Chapter 6 – The Extraction
(Mando x f!reader)
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Summary: The auction leads you to the child but the empire’s hot on your tail. With all hope lost you make a choice.
Notes: None (feel free to interact im unemployed and bored)!!!
Tw: (very brief) mentions of drugs/sex/alcohol/addiction, swearing
Words: 3.9 k
Tagged: @crazycookiecrumbles
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You walk through the damp street, you don’t know what this dress is made of but the dirt and grime caused by the recent rain seemed to simply bounce off it. The streets were jam-packed, somehow even busier than they were the night prior and as the two of you make your way towards the auction hall Din’s visor scans the crowd, making sure nothing seems out of place. He takes care to never be more than a few inches away from you, convincing himself it's in order to maintain appearances. After all he knew you were more than capable of handling yourself, and why else would he feel the need to be so close to you.
“You lost beautiful?” A youthful looking Falleen asks as she appears out of the shadows
“No.” Din replies, making himself visible at your side when she moves into the light.
“Well I’m sure you're very beautiful under that armour Mando, but I was talking to your friend here.The names Isi and I make a living helping people around the city” Din’s about to respond again when you interject.
“Actually Isi we do seem to have gotten ourselves a bit lost, we're here for the auction.”
“I’ve heard of it,” she says, staring down at her manicure. You look up at Din motioning for him to pay her which he does begrudgingly. Taking the credits she leads you through the city, stopping outside a building covered completely in reflective mirrors.
“Best of luck” Isi, says offering you her hand
“Thank you, for your discretion” taking it you slide her a few more credits and she leans back against the wall of the building watching as the two of you enter. Two men in tailored suits open the inner doors granting you access to a small closed off foyer, also covered in the one way glass. You hand your invitation to the man on the right, parting your lips ever so slightly and gaze up at him batting your eyelids ever so slightly. In your experience a touch of flirting went a long way, especially when it came to moving through security.
He smiles and looks from you, up to the Mandalorian then back down. Turning his head to look at his partner he chuckles slightly.
“He your boyfriend, or something?”
“Bodyguard” you emphasize.
“Makes sense” he murmurs loud enough for the two of you to hear.
“What’s that supposed to mean?” the modulated voice asks obviously aggravated.
“Never mind him, he’s just sensitive about the... you know ” you mime the outline of a helmet. The guard nods and lets you pass through placing his hand on the small of your back as you do causing you to cringe internally. Nothing worse than a stranger's hand where you didn’t want it. You glare back at the Mandalorian hoping your eyes would convey a message of ‘be cool’. A task he was about to accomplish when the second guard places a firm hand on his arm.“Leave the blaster Mando, there’s no weapons allowed.”
“He has no weapons” you interject, de-escalating the scene that was about to play out caused by the tremendous amount of male energy that was currently taking up the entire room.
“You’re right sorry ma’am, enjoy your evening” he says letting go of the Mandalorians arm allowing him to pass.
“Way to keep your cool, let’s try and get through the night without creating a scene” you say, slightly annoyed by whatever the hell he thought that display was going to achieve. Your anger disappears as you turn to an enormous room filled with people dressed to the nines in the finest the galaxy had to offer. Chandeliers dripping in diamonds hung down from the high ceilings illuminating the room like a sky full of stars and casting a rose gold hue across the occupants moving about the ballroom floor which seemed to sparkle underneath the high heels.
Servers moved seamlessly throughout the crowd; they were all dressed in lavish costumes, depicting various fashions from across space and time. The trays they carry are filled with multicolor foods and gem-coloured drinks. You’d never seen anything so opulent in your entire life. You’d noticed that servers would pair off with guests and disappear returning later with a look that could only be chalked up to exceptional sex or spice, both of which resulted in a similar glazed over and dewy look. A Darthomorian in a low cut red dress approaches you offering you a drink, you smile and thank them.
“I wouldn’t if I were you.” The modulator speaks up, as you bring the drink to your lips.
“Why? I might as well enjoy the lifestyles of the rich and dangerous while I’m here” you snap, apparently you were still upset at him.
“It has love wallop in it, makes the drinker more suggestible to certain propositions usually sent over by someone who wants to.” His voice trails off.
“Ew” you say pulling a face before dumping it in a nearby plant. “Guess I’m safer going to the bar.” You swirl your new, drug free, drink around and rest your elbows down on a nearby table, hoping the auction would begin shortly.
“How did you know what was in that drink.” You ask in an attempt to help pass the time.
“They show up at these kinds of things, so does spice and other illegal substances.”
“Once again how do you know about this? You spent a lot of time around illegal substances? I didn’t think it would be your scene.” you say taking a sip of the ruby coloured drink you had ordered.
“I’ve brought a lot of dealers over the years. It also crossed my path in my...” He pauses before continuing reluctantly “ wilder days.”
“Wilder days hey? Love to hear about those sometimes. You sample the product?” you probe, he gives you an unmistakable look of disappointment “Maybe you should, might help chill you out a bit.” You joke.
“That would go against my creed and fundamental belief system. Spice is...”
“Highly addictive, ya I know , it was a joke.” You say shaking your head, why did he have to be so high and mighty all the time.
“You’ve had it?” he seems surprised by this news, you hoped it wouldn’t change his opinion of you, the two of you had been getting on pretty well of late and you’d hate to jeopardize that.
“You gonna arrest me?” you joke nervously, hoping he didn’t notice how much his response mattered to you.
“No, just… how the hell did you stop? Are you okay to even be here, it's everywhere” was it disappointment or concern you picked up in his voice, you couldn’t quite discern between the two.
“I’ll be fine just tell me if it’s in anything I’m about to put into my body. And knock me out if you see me going for it” Diverting from the conversation you lift up a piece of food and show it to the Mandalorian who lets you know it’s safe to eat.
“Holy shit this is good!” you exclaim, looking around for where the waitress had gone
“Can you feel him?.” Din asks drawing your attention back to the reason why you were here in the first place.
“Too many people, I’ve already disrupted the force once I don’t want to do it again so quickly someone might notice. We’ll have to wait for the first item and follow whoever brings it out.” Just then a woman in a slinky red dress appears with some kind of an egg on a pillow and steps up onto the stage where an Ishi Tib drones out the rules and regulations for bidding.
“Is that an Kadri’Ra egg.” you ask in amazement.
“Looks like it”
“I thought they were extinct” you say still in awe
“Guess not” he replies, his shortness had become increasingly apparent over the course of the evening.
“We’ll get the kid soon, don’t worry, he has to be here.” You reassure, looking up at him causing him to look away. As the woman passes back through the crowd the two of you turn in tandem and follow her until you reach the back of the room. You stop and place your back against the wall, craning your neck you look to see which hallway the woman had disappeared down. You turn back quickly as another woman in similar garb appears out the largest of the hallways, carrying a cape made from an ice dragon pelt. As she moves towards the stage the two of you enter where she had exited. You move through the wide hallway until you reach the end, where a large metal door prevents you from moving any further.
“Should have about 15 minutes before the next one comes out.” You say stopping a few feet from the door. “you think anyone’s in...” you're almost done your sentence when you hear footsteps approaching from behind you.
Before you can make sense of what's happening the Mandalorian has pulled you into a thin hallway off shoot by the nook of your elbow. You’re now face to face with his chest and suddenly very aware of how tall he was.
“Where’s the other half of the item, seriously were two in and I’m looking like a fool up there!” an Arkanian, who you assume must be the collector and the host of the party, exclaims. You see them do a double take to where you're currently hiding, and watch as they begin to move towards the hallway.
“Can you pick me up?” you whisper urgently,
“Yes, but…”
“do it now” he complies with your order, as he does you wrap your legs around the armour covering his hips and prop your back against the wall, draping your arms loosely over his shoulders before burying your head in the part of his neck bare from armour, hoping that the compromising position would be enough to deter the collector rom asking any question. Out of the corner of your eye you watch as the presenter takes note of the two of you. Raising their eyebrows they turn and move back to the door.
“Yes that’s it, get it out there now so the bidding can begin, gods it’s hard to find good help these days.” they exclaim turning and following behind the presenter with the newly acquired artifact. You let out a sigh of relief removing your face from his neck quickly realizing that your nose is just millimetres away from his helmet.
“You can put me down now” you whisper breathlessly, for a reason you couldn’t quite explain. You take note of the slight hesitation that precedes him dropping you. Gathering yourself you exit the hallway and reposition yourself in front of the large metal door. You can’t see a panel on it or a key slot, it must only be accessible from the inside looking up, you spot a window.
“Give me a boost” you say, and he obliges. You lift the hem of your outfit and step onto his interlocked hands which he uses to push you up enabling you to reach the ledge. Pulling yourself up you roll through the window and drop down onto the rooms floor alerting the person in charge of handing out the auction items. You knock him out and swipe his key card using it to open the door for Din.
“This way” you say, dragging the handler's body over to a nearby post and tying him to it. Standing up you turn to see hundreds of items up for auction varying from Millaflower to a juvenile varactyl.
“Do you see him?” you ask, picking up a vial of what you recognized as death stick placing it back down when you hear him respond.
“No” you think you hear his voice break. “Wait.” he says, walking up to another, smaller closed off room placing a gloved hand on the door. He draws his blaster aiming for the lock. You lower his hand hoping to prevent a beam bouncing around the room subsequently giving you away. You lift up the key card you’d swiped from the guy in the room and use it to open up the door. He moves towards the oval container floating in the middle of the room and drops down to one knee as you watch tentatively from the door. Pushing a button the oval opens up and a tiny green three fingered hand reaches up for him. You hear a slight gurgle as the second hand comes up making a grabbing motion. Din picks up what has to be the most adorable creature you’ve ever seen.
“Told you I’d get you back didn’t I” he chuckles, you can hear the smile in voice as he hands the kid the small silver ball. You approach cautiously until you're standing beside him.
“Well fair enough I get why you traded me in for him” you say offering the child your finger which he grabs happily, looking up at you.
“ You two know each other or something?” He asks, his helmet staring up at you.
“Must be a force thing” you say, smiling down at the little critter.
“We have to go” you say, closing the egg hoping it would buy enough time to make a swift exit. With the child wrapped neatly under his arm the two of you move swiftly through the back alleys in darkness.
“Well that went better than I…” almost as if on cue, your speech is interrupted by the sound of blasters ricocheting off the ship's metal exterior. He hands you the child and rushes up to the cockpit to prepare for take-off.
“Brace yourself” he shouts down and you grab onto the overhanging bars with one hand and secure the child with your other, pressing your thigh against a beam in an attempt to stabilize yourself. As the ship lifts off the ground you hear the sounds of even more blaster bullets hitting its side.
“Din!” you yell up from below
“I’m working on it!” he shouts back down. A few moments later he manages to get the ship out of the reach of the blasters, punching it as he exits the stratosphere. A distinct beeping sound rings throughout the ship indicating there was a problem that needed fixing sooner rather than later. You ungrip your hands from the bars and check on the child who seems completely unaware of the situation. Using your free hand you pull yourself up to the cockpit where a disgruntled Mandalorian was cursing under his breath. You place the child down in the back seat buckling him in before taking your own.
“How far can we make it without stopping.” You ask after a long enough time had elapsed for the Mandalorian to calm down
“Far enough to be safe, I hope.” Turning to the side you see the kid sleepily closing its eyes.
“Could you put him to bed? I have to deal with this.” He says gesturing to the entire dashboard which was currently lit up like a tree on life day.
“Of course” you say, you were completely taken with the child, and more than happy to spend time with it.
“Alright where does he keep your bed then.” You say opening up a few compartments until you find the sleeping quarters. Opening the doors Anya’s head looks over to you evidently having slept through the whole ordeal comfortably on the bed. It was decent sized compared to most ship beds but still small especially for someone of Dins stature. Above it was a small hammock like contraption which you assumed was where the child, who was now more awake than asleep, slept.
“You need to rest.” You say softly, but he keeps staring up at you and grabbing at your hair. “C’mon you going to get me in trouble, with the guy upstairs” you smile down at him as he coos slightly. “Well I know one thing that used to help me sleep when I was about your size” You start to sing softly to the creature stroking one of its long ears as you do until it's fallen asleep. Unbeknownst to you the Mandalorian had heard you singing and followed the sound downstairs watching you and the child from afar.
“Mesh’la” he says louder than intended, causing you to turn around.
“He’s just asleep now,” you whisper, handing him to the Mandalorian so he can put him up top. You watch as he tucks the kid in gently squeezing one of its feet before turning back to quietly return to the cockpit.
“Did you say something down there?” you ask, sitting back in the co-pilot seat.
“No,well, yes I was just wondering what the sound was. I’d never heard something like it before.”
“What a lullaby. Didn’t have many of those growing up at the convent?” you ask, always slightly surprised by any personal information the Mandalorian revealed to you.
“No, at least none I can remember. What are they used for?”
“You’ve heard songs before though.”
“Yes, I heard some on Vryssa.”
“ Well Vryssa is home to many a folk song, helps people forget where they are. A lullaby is a song, often sung to a child to help them sleep.” You explain.
“What were you singing about.” He asks
“Ones was about a hanging that happened in Vryssa, told the story of two lovers planning to meet there”
“Doesn’t seem suitable for a child”
“No but I assume he doesn't speak English and lullaby is more about the melody than the words, the second was one passed down from my grandmother about the meadows of her home planet.”
“Where was she from your grandmother?” he asks.
“She never told me a name, only descriptions.”
“Maybe you’ll get to see it one day.”
“Ya maybe, if you and this kid don’t get me killed first.” you laugh, only partially kidding.
“Grogu.”
“Bless you?”
“The kids name, it’s Grogu.” he chuckled softly glancing over at you, still thinking about the way you had looked with him in your arms, singing softly.
After a while the beeping increases to a point where landing was no longer a task that could be put off. You step out onto a stone covered surface stretching out your legs and breathing in the remarkably fresh air.
“Think we lost them” you state, bending down and placing a palm on the smooth, cool moss covered stones. You stand back up and turn around watching as the Mandalorian exits the ship with a tool kit in hand and Anya and Grogu in pursuit. The kid follows Din over to where the damage is opting to stare up at him as he works, seemingly not wanting to be apart from him ever again.
“It's just one of the stabilizers, an easy fix we should be good to go soon!” He shouts over to you
“Anything I can do to help?” You offer
“No, It's a one person job. Thank you” With that you head off curious in exploration of the planet. It's old, empty, you wonder if anyone had ever been here before you. It wasn’t very livable, no trees, no food, no water, a truly desolate place. Yet it possessed a charm unique to planets of old, untouched by the reach of the empire, the republic and everything in between. You peer back over your shoulder, Anya’s sat protectively near the child who's still watching the Mandalorian rattle around the ship. You turn your head back as he closes up, not wanting to get caught staring. He picks up Grogu and re-enters the ship with Anya following close behind. You're about to join them when you feel something approaching. You begin to walk further from the ship and closer towards the presence you were feeling, stopping in your tracks when you see a triangular ship approaching. It's large, too big to be from any crime lord.
“It’s imperial” you hear a voice yell from afar as the Mandalorian makes his way towards you.
“Well never outrun them” you whisper, your brain running through the possible scenarios.
“We have to go”
``We'll never outrun them” you say louder and firmer this time, it didn't take an android to figure out what your probability of success was.
“We don’t have time to argue about this” he grabs your arm, but you pull it free turning to face him.
“Go” The words leave your mouth before you can process what you're saying. He doesn’t move. You can hear the ship approaching inching closer.
“Take them and leave, you have to protect them, keep them safe.” he was right you didn't have time to argue about this.
“Not without you.” he says refusing to move.
“Go!” you say shoving him “Now!”
“I'm not leaving you here”
“Yes you are, the kid he’s all that matters right now, go before he’s taken again. Now!”
“Just come with us” he pleads
“We won’t make it. You know we won't. This isn’t a negotiation. Go I’ll give you as much time as I can.” You see him finally accept the fact that this was in the only way.
“Here, take this” he says, giving you his blaster before turning and starting back towards the ship. He stops turning around one last time.
“(y/n) I…”
“I know” you say, using the force to throw him back towards the ship before turning to face the imperial ship which has landed a hundred yards in front of you.
Dialing up the ship Din takes note of the imperial model hoping he’d be able to find it again. As the troopers march out he sees you look back at him nodding your head as if to say you’ll be fine.You clear your mind breathing in the cool air. Closing your eyes you kneel on the ground placing one hand on the stone and the other on the blaster at your side. You can hear the ship taking off behind you as the troopers take aim firing at them from below, but the shots rebound off the force field that you’ve created.
You hold your ground as the troopers move in towards you determined to protect those inside the ship. Din watches as the blaster shots rebound back into the crowd of troopers. With one last look he jumps the ship into hyperspeed. He moves it into auto pilot and throws his head back in frustration as he hears Grogu cry out. “I know. Well get her back, but we're going to need some help” He says, picking up the kid holding him on his lap as he punches in the coordinates of a familiar planet. You drop the force field and begin firing when you hear the ship jump into hyperspace taking out as many troopers as you can before the blaster runs out. In one last ditch effort you throw it at a stormtrooper knocking it out. Slowly raise your hands in the air. They take aim. You prepare yourself.
“Wait! Don’t shoot” a tall man, dressed in all black says as the crowd of troopers part in his wake.
“We may not need the child after all.”
#the mandalorian#din djarin x reader#din dijarin x reader#din djarin x you#din djarin x y/n#reader insert#mando x reader#mando x you#mando x y/n#star wars#not canon#alliance#chapter 6
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Da Vinci Code
Word Count: 5,900
Warnings: Mild cursing (btw reader is black b/c SOMEONE had to to do it to em)
I wanna be bold and tag my favorite accounts here so: @writing-prompt-s @madamslayyy @saitamastamaticsoup @canumoveurseatup-no @twilightpocfans @cassandraclare @momolady @imaginepoc @hoe-imaginess
Summer, or as the new generation of civilization deemed it “cuffing season” or “act out season”. Something about warmer weather and not being at an educational facility for eight hours straight for a good three months seemed to always bring out the risque in people. As expected kids and teens would be roaming around the cul-de-sac, some playing basketball in their parent's driveway and others participating in double-dutch competitions on chalk illustrated sidewalks. And as the adolescents played Wallace D. Nolwazi would be miles away from home at the NASA space station in California, soaking up the sun and meticulously building her resume. At least, that what she expected.
The rumbling of the wagon behind her was no match for the choir of raindrops that began to pelt onto the concrete, what had started as a mild drizzle shortly became a full-blown thunderstorm that Wallace’s poncho was no match for.
Buzz. Buzz. Buzz.
Correction: A full-blown thunderstorm with a flood watch in effect warning.
Earlier in the year, Wallace had applied to NASA’s Bright Minds of Today™ Summer Camp were ten lucky applicants were flown out to Pasadena, California for a seven-week exclusive boot camp on the inner workings of NASA. Completed with free room and board, transportation, and a weekly allowance. The ad for the summer camp had been almost too good to be true until Wallace decided to call its coordinators. With confirmation that the program was legit, she meticulously began to work on the programs required an essay on what were the benefits and dangers of new technology rising today. She even emailed her teachers and counselor four weeks in advance for recommendations which contrasted from her usual last-minute nature. To say that she was pumped would have been an understatement after she got a call while attempting to rewire an old computer hard drive that she has been accepted into the program after an over the phone interview.
She was going on a long vacation away from her doting and nosey family, At least, that’s what she hoped until her hope was plucked out her hands like a mean babysitter to a baby’s lollipop.
A sudden loud crack of thunder startled Wallace enough to have her already misshapen glasses drop to the ground into a rushing stream caused by the lack of grass in the area. Pausing, she fished out the glasses and continued on her way back home.
Without her knowledge, Wallace’s mother had planned for her aunt Leila to stay over the summer while she attended an important retreat for the medical board at Bayhealth Hospital. To say that Wallace didn���t expect this to happen would be an understatement, her mother or Maureen as she usually addressed her was notorious for pulling last-minute dips on her plans. But this was the one plan in a while that she specifically discussed with her mother beforehand on the prospect of potentially getting admitted to the program. But, her mother brushed it off with little regret saying that there would be a “next time”.
‘Next time’. Heh.
The phrase next time played on in her head as she entered the already opened garage thoroughly soaked from the ongoing storm. The wagon Wallace had been pulling was long forgotten next to a pile of some scrap metal and a blow torch. Making her way from the garage to the basement took less than twenty steps, it took even shorter to get into the shower considering Wallace had begun to undress once she had left the garage. The rain had made her skin crawl and feel as if there were imaginary ants running along her skin. The cold water and rhythmic beating of the showerhead help her predicament.
Wallace always kept a set of spare clothes in the basement for when she needed them, she seemed to always be in the basement and garage so it was only fitting. Being careful to only drip onto the carpet she took a look into the mirror, honey eyes immediately locked onto her faux locs that were beginning to unravel. To any other person they would have looked freshly done, but Wallace was meticulous over her hair and decided against trying to fix it herself. Knowing well that her hands were a menace to her our hair, vividly remembering the accident of ‘06 at Cardinal Junior High. Her eyes narrowed at the memory as she quickly got dressed in dry clothes and put her hair up.
Compelled to not waste any more time Wallace stepped to a large steel table and sat on the cool wooden stool pulling forward a dull wooden box. Reaching in she delicately pulled out a worn looking pocket watch that admittedly weighed quite a bit in her hand. Its previously blindly gold exterior was tarnished to gray-blue corrosion that had compromised some the gears inside. Taking a moment to gaze at the antique item, the arms weren’t moving and were stuck at 11:22, putting down the watch Wallace moved the ring light above her into place and turned it on. Without looking up her hand reached across the table to pull a magnifying scope right above the watch.
Opening the watch, she set the magnifying scope to a lens best suited to look at its gears. Some were missing and burned out, pursing her lips in curiosity Wallace stepped off her chair and went digging through her wagon. Only picking objects she deemed acceptable and helping her fix the watch. Wallace deconstructed other clocks and gears from different machines from the junkyard that she raided and shaped them down to size with her father's power saw and other tools in the garage. Stuck in her own little world, she hadn’t noticed the moon made an appearance hours ago.
It was around midnight when Wallace’s mother, Maureen came home. The day at the hospital was a rough one indeed, an abundance of trauma patients came in and out of hospital doors and her brain was just about fried by the end of the day. Pocketing her keys, she opened the front door telephone wire and shut the door behind her while putting her purse down.
“Wallace,” she called, thinking nothing of her daughter's absence. She walked herself up the stairs to her room, but not before passing Wallace's was she picked open and called her name again, “Wallace!” Letting herself in she looked around meticulously, where was her daughter? She went to the window to see if anyone was outside but her nerves were rest assured when she saw a light coming from the garage out in the back.
“Wallace!”
Without looking up she quipped back, “What.”
“Don’t what me. It’s ‘yes mom’,” Wallace’s mother crossed her arms as her eyes narrowed at her daughter hunched over form in the garage.
“Yes, Maureen.”
Sighing and rolled her eyes, “I’ve been calling you all around the house for-”
Wallace not being one for aimless chatter, “What did you need.” There was a brief silence that seemed to stretch on.
Maureen licked her bottom lip and took a calming breath, “Wallace I am your mother-”
Mentally rolling her eyes at the revelations, she continued tinkering with the watch in her hand.
“-And as your mother I deserve, better yet you owe me your respect-”
Laughable.
“-Secondly, did you eat dinner? The pasta and chicken I left in the fridge for you is still there.”
Wallace’s figure relaxed a bit, “I had dinner at the Hinode’s. Mrs. Hinode said ‘hi’’.”
“You sure,” Maureen walked closer to Wallace and glanced over at the table unsurprised to see she was doing God knows what with that watch, “And why are you still playing around with that old thing? I know it was grandpa Leroy’s, but that thing’s been busted for a while now.”
Wallace didn’t know why her mother always told her this, like a broken record, every time she came into the garage to find her fixing the old watch. It was a waste of breath in Wallace’s mind since it yielded the same results. She subconsciously clutched the watch tighter in her hand. Grandpa Leroy was her father’s father, he was her father when Maureen’s boyfriend went awol at the altar. Leroy stepped in and helped raise Wallace like his own, he even used to stay with her mother for months at a time. He was the one who got Wallace into technology and fixing things when he first saw her attempting to fix a VCR that had accidentally fallen off a table while playing soccer in the house. It was a good thing that her grandfather used to be an electrician in his working days.
He was the glue that held everything together, up until his untimely death two years ago on a cruise ship sailing around Scandinavia and Europe. The specifics were never explained, but the doctors told her mother that he died of natural causes in his sleep. Since then the usually happily tolerable relationship between Maureen and Wallace had taken a sharp turn. It was beginning to feel like tying a shoe, but instead of looping the strings they were being pulled in opposite directions. Maureen began to shut down by taking more hours at the hospital. Leaving Wallace at home most days for hours on end.
Wallace had a different way of dealing with things than her mother, she became a recluse. Keeping herself in her room or library reading all her grandfather's favorite books. It was Charges: A Retrospect into the Quantum World by M.H. Lyernoff that started her fixation on her grandfather's watch. It was where she found the watch, behind the fake back on one of the shelves in the library behind M.H. Lyernoff’s book. It seemed like any old pocket watch hidden away until Wallace noticed the engraving on the curve of the watch. It was rubbed off but still legible: It’s only as real you make it. Something that grandpa Leroy always used to tell her when she let others make her feel inferior, and the something that got her into the garage some nine months ago into fixing the watch and later restoring it.
She put a comforting hand on Wallace’s shoulder, “It can’t even tell time properly with how it was designed.”
And Maureen was correct, the clock had hands, however not the standard number system. The clock had roman numerals, but it also had a second system under. It was compass-like with engraved circles and dots, but everything was written in a language that vaguely looked like English. Wallace couldn’t figure out what type of manufacturer would make clocks this confusing, or why her grandfather would ever have it in his possession, all she knew was that the compass contraption was supposed to move most likely in synchronicity with the clock above.
Wallace craned her neck around to meet her mother's eyes, "Is that all?" Quite frankly she was beginning to get a little bit antsy in her mom's close proximity to her. There was always something about being in her presence for a set amount of time that unnerved her.
Another stood there from your seconds contemplating what was wrong with Wallace, she was usually irritable yes. But nothing to level like she is at the moment. Choosing to talk about this another day her mother left the scene to go get ready for bed.
Wallace's figure visibly relaxed as she heard from others retreating but steps.
‘Finally’, she thought. ‘I can have some peace and quiet to actually work on this thing.’
And that's how the rest of the week went. Wallace would at times take impromptu trip to the junkyard come back home to her garage and work on her grandfather's pocket watch. Then her mom will come looking for her ask her usual suspect questions of whether she ate or not and drank water then would be on her merry way.
That was until Tuesday evening when a bright pink Chevrolet rolled up in front of the house with bags threatening to fall out the back seats, all driven by a woman with large boho sunglasses and a tightly braided bun. Wallace stared at her from her seat on the couch in the living room with her nearly finished bowl of cereal. Her mother had left three hours before her aunt’s arrival, she knew that she’d be staying for the majority of the summer, but it looked like aunt Leila packed enough for two summers.
When Leila stepped out of her car right into a ray of light Wallace didn’t know what was more blinding: the way her aunt’s skin glowed or the diamond rings that casted a disco reflection. Wallace let Leila in and automatically she shoved her mini handbag into Wallace’s arms.
“Hello, Wally! How’s my favorite niece?” She gave Wallace a toothy grin and walked herself into the kitchen, without waiting for a reply she added, “Be a doll and help get my bags from out the car will you? Thanks.”
Wallace grimaced. Out of all the people, it had to be her. Begrudgingly she went back outside and lugged her aunt’s luggage into the house making sure to drag it someway into the entrance. Wallace entered the kitchen to find her aunt was making herself quite “at home” by treating herself to a slice of cheesecake with a side of strawberry ice cream.
Mid bite her aunt muffled, “Did yuh geh uem?”
Wallace nodded, “I’ll be in the garage if you need me,” and made a b-line for the garage in back but her aunt was quicker.
“Hold on there, Wally.”
She paused halfway out the door.
“Where does your mom keep her Rosé?”
“Bottom draw to your left,” and with that she was gone.
For the past week Wallace had been making staggering advancements in getting the old watch to work. Once she troubleshooted some issues with the gears, re-oiled it, and gave it a new shine it was almost working at full capacity. The only problem was getting the button on top the watch to press down to be able to open the glass screen. She had been fussing over it for hours, not wanting to use too much applied force and end up breaking the piece.
The sun was just beginning to set over the horizon when the watch in question she had been fingering nearly fell, in quick action Wallace caught her grandfather’s watch in an awkward angle where her thumb pushed the button around that elicited a ‘click’. Astoundingly looking at how easy Wallace’s predicament was solved she pressed the top of the watch hoping to open the screen protector. But that never happened, nothing happened for the first few seconds until everything in Wallace’s vicinity began to occur in slow motion. The kid who was going at a moderate speed down the cul-de-sac was now at a turtle's pace.
Wallace’s honey eyes widened. She felt as if her body was vibrating and her brain rattling. Not physically of course, but internally or metaphysically. The world around her began to flow first slowly then all at once, it became a blue of bright colors. Purples, reds, pinks, greens, and yellows swirled around her as if she were in a cocoon of ribbons. She tightly closed her eyes, looking at all of it made her knees buckle and heart race, ‘What the hell?’
At last the spinning sensation stopped and she opened her eyes, however she swiftly closed them again due to the powerful rays of the sun. Raising her hand for some protection against it she took a view of her surroundings.
‘What.. the fuck?’
She was confused, as would be any teenager who was at one second in her garage then in another in a field crowded with tall grass and vibrant flowers. In the distance she heard a clanking noise. Turning around, Wallace noticed a herd of cattle freely grazing and near that was a farm. And a farm always meant people. Giving the field one last tired look Wallace began her trek towards the farm, but not before pulling out her phone to check the date and time. It seemed like it was still Tuesday and about 4:53 in the evening, she unlocked her phone to see if she could get any signal, but the page was taking a while to load.
Looking over at the barn as she got closer Wallace noticed how old school and run down it looked, in a few years it would be down for sure.
“Hello?” Wallace shouted.
“Helloooooo…”
She creaked open the barn door slightly to see nothing but stacks of hay and the putrid scent of manure to greet her nostrils. Scrunching up her nose she let herself in and took a look around. It was out of place for Wallace to see a farm, but no tractor or electric plow of some sort. There wasn’t even a grain silo or a water mill.
‘Maybe I’m in the Amish country… But that wouldn’t explain how I left my garage without physically moving…’
Wallace was halfway through the farm until her ears picked up a shuffling noise, abruptly stopping she turned her head towards the disturbance.
She cautiously called out again, “Hello? I heard that you know…” She pushed her glasses up her sweaty nose, “Anyone there?”
CLANK. CLANK. SHUFFLE.
Her head turned sharply to the side, there it was again… Looking down she saw a decent sized rock picking it up Wallace aimed it at the large stack of hay near of the walls. The rock went straight through the hay, but out came a small scream and a loud thud. A tall figure emerged from the hay speaking in a rapid language that Wallace was in no way mentally ready to process.
‘What’s the universal sign for stop?’ Wallace shushed the figure, which was male with shoulder length curly hair and broad shoulders. She held out her hands in a ‘no harm’ manner to try and calm whoever it was down.
On the other end of the stick, the man was breathing heavily with a sweat soaked shirt covered in dirt and paint.
“N- non volevo sp- spaventarti. Cosa stai facendo qui, eh?” They boy stuttered out. He was staring at his feet then slowly looked up, and his face went pale. “Chi diavolo sei?” His eyes gauged at her like he had never seen a gir- no a lady such as the one stand before him. He took in her clothing, she was wearing trousers which was anything unlike her ever saw. And they were tight. They made a splash of color recover onto his cheeks. Her hair was long and curly, but they look like impossibly thick strings of pasta coiling down her face. But her skin, that was the most starting things about her. He had seen paintings of angels rendered with pale as snow skin and golden hair colored hair, but the lady before him pushed that all out of the water. She stool clad in sepia skin that glistened with sweat from the walk she had to take from the field. The boy was at a lost for words, here stood an imitation of an angel that embodied the brown sepia tones of the earth all around her and was a reflection of gold itself while in the light.
Wallace stepped a bit closer, she sported a dirty look on her face. The man in front of her stared as if he had never seen a person with brown skin before. Let it be known though she may have scared him she wouldn’t mind knocking out his teeth with her foot it need be. Setting those thoughts aside she came to a conclusion:
“Hello, can you understand me?” If she heard what she thought she thought was Italian, then it’d solve one mystery.
“Sì.” Bingo, Italian just as she thought, though it was more… archaic than she remembered.
“Where am I?”
“M-Milan Italia, on the countryside... Who are you lady?”
‘Italy, huh? Not possible’, but she dismissed it nonetheless. “My name is Wallace, Wallace Nohlwazi. And who are you?” ‘At least I know that Italian soap opera shows on Netflix are doing their job.’
The boy let out an anxiously laugh and relaxed a bit, “My name is-”
He was cut off as a steel rod suddenly propelled out the stack of hay, promptly knocking it down. In the moment you don’t know what moved faster, the stranger that tackled you out the way or the steel rod that embedded itself deeply into the way behind you.
The boy was deceptively heavy on top of you, but didn’t take to notice, “My name is Leonardo, Leonardo da Vinci.” Your eyes widened… then you began to laugh leaving a confused yet concerned face on the boy dubbed the Leonardo da Vinci.
“You have to be joking… da Vinci? Pfft.” You continued your laughter, “Is your name really Leonardo da Vinci? The painter?”
Leonardo gave you a careful sideways smile, “... Yes miss…”
The laughing wasn’t completely out of your system until you noticed the hunk of metal that behind the hay, Leonardo noticed your eyes zeroing in on something behind him. Once he noticed what it was he began panicking and speaking in rapid Italian. There were scraps of metal melded into a large watch connected to gold coins and what looked like to be a handmade wire lifted up into the sky, the gadget wouldn’t be as astounding if it weren’t for the fact that it was vibrating creating a noticeable ‘hum’ that was yet present.
“Oh dear, you shouldn't have seen that... did del Verrocchio send you?” The tall man squabbled on.
The ping of your phone alerted you, ignoring the Italian painter going mad, you reached into you back pocket and unlocked the screen. There, in bold lettering stood a wifi connection that should not be possible in the 1400’s.
CONNECT: IϽNIΛ ��ᗡ
Taking a moment to tune out the yelling da Vinci, you came to the only possible line appropriate for the situation at hand.
“Absolutely not.”
“-he usually sends one of his men to check up on m-”
Wallace refused to believe that she had somehow got transported into the mid-1400s in Italy, and had met the Leonardo DaVinci. The future, or rather past famous artist and inventor. The whole ordeal seem preposterous to Wallace, at least that's what she wanted to believe. It was a single question of how she got there… grandfather Leroy. Wallace quickly dug into her inner jacket pocket and pulled out the pocket watch. She stared at it critically oh, how could this thing send her miles away from her home and hundreds of years before her time on Earth? But most of all how did her grandfather get his hands on this?
“-just so I’ll abandon my ideas… my greatess works-”
Wallace's mind began to buzz with many theories and accusations of how her grandfather got this watch and how it could possibly work. But, for those hypotheticals it would mean a lifetime of advanced mathematics and science, not to mention quantum mechanics. The bending of time calculated with the speed and bending of light and all acting upon the Earth’s laws of physics? It would have taken over a hundred lifetimes to figure that out even with the most brilliant of minds. At least Wallace thought so.
Suppressing her anxiety and fear, Wallace willed her mind to be still and focused. If it was the watch that got hurt here, then maybe it could take her back. With the shaky hand she pressed her thumb down on the button of the watch and waited... and waited some more... and a couple of more seconds until she realized that nothing, absolutely nothing would happen. Had the watch broken again? Internally this was not sitting well with Wallace's gut.
"-and the Church, Christ almighty…"
"Hey… he-HEY!" She tried to get the attention of Leonardo as he was in a moment of an existential crisis. 'Man, does he talk a lot.' She had to find topic that would catch the young inventors attention, that's a pretty neat electrical resonant transformer circuit you've made…" She saw his form stiffen, "Tell me Leonardo, how long did it take you to invent this circuit that produces high-voltage, low-current, high frequency alternating-current electricity? The Church must be furious…"
Leonardo turn back to face Wallace, for a second his face was serious and calculating her choosing his next words carefully, "You know of science? So I am understanding that you are not one of del Verrocchio men, er women." He visibly relaxed at the conclusion, "And yes it is a circuit that produces alternating-current electricity. It took years to make… But what would you know of any of this?"
Leonardo' s question hung in the air and Wallace wasn't sure if he was asking because he was just curious, or if she was just a girl or even possibly both. Wallace Wade the pros and cons of her next actions. She also replayed every time travel movie that she had ever seen: Back to the Future, Hot Tub Time Machine, Men in Black, and Meet the Robinsons. Granted Meet the Robinsons didn't have the main character travels back into the past, but into the future, however, it was still one of Wallace's favorite films next to Mulan in the Disney category. Wallace telling Leonardo small increments of the future well in the past could have a large effect on the future and her would be present. But, if she wanted to get her whole watch situation figured out and fixed and on her way home as soon as possible. She hoped her judgment on his character was good enough.
"Do you have a private place to talk?"
It turns out that the young da Vinci lived and a farmhouse a little ways away from the barn. According to Leonardo he was doing an understudy, or an apprenticeship under Andrea del Verrocchio who was a Florentine painter. The farmhouse on the countryside was a modest size, yet dull and decoration and color. However it was stuck to the brim with finish portraits, sculptures and other types of art. When Leonardo and Wallace arrived at the house, Wallace found it odd that Leonardo's teacher was present. Leonardo explained that Verrocchio would take impromptu trips into the city to talk to our clients and leave him to his own devices, expecting him to paint and do nothing more. Accepting his answer, they both took seats in the living room on some slightly torn cushioned chairs; Wallace began her story. She told him of the watch, it's configurations, her origins etc, but she was careful not to mention how he would soon become famous in the future.
She talked for hours going into detail into each and every action and explanation she could think of how she got here. Wallace hope that she wasn't losing Leonardo, but by the looks of his face he was hanging on to her every word. Leonardo's face looks spaced out the still focused, his body subconsciously lean towards Wallace's over the table as he had his head leading on his hand for support. By the end of the story she was desperately out of breath.
“And that’s how I got here,” she panted and pushed her locs off her face, “Diagnosis?”
He scanned her with his eyes more a moment, “You are not crazy, at least I am fairy sure of it… You mentioned this watch, may I see it?”
She stared him down, if she wanted to get back to her time. She reached into her pocket and pulled it out, Leonardo gently took it from her hands and examined it. Expertly moving his fingers around each curve and edge of the timepiece he pressed the top button of the watch before Wallace could warn him. As before, nothing happened, time didn’t slow down and the physical world didn’t dissipate.
Humming to himself, he pried open the watch to show the compass like map on the second interface of the pocket watch. ‘Latin,’ he thought ot himself thankful he had been forced to learn the language as a child. The more that he stared at the compass the more it began to make sense. He suddenly got up from his chair that startled Wallace.
“Follow me,” he mumbled going through the maze that was called a house. Soon they both stood upon a large door made of oak, pulling out a key from one of his pockets Leonardo unlocked the door, and held it open for Wallace motioning for her to enter.
“Thanks,” Leonardo nodded. Stepping in Wallace marveled at the chaos that was the mystery room. It was filled with misplaced papers written in Italian and some Latin with designs on it, she noticed one in particular as the flying machine. If anything Wallace realized how history down played Leonardo da Vinci, to her his mind seemed like a real time working machine from the future trapped in the body of the past. Wallace gravitated to Leonardo who was standing in from of a large atlas map, she tried to piece together what she saw to no avail.
He concluded, “It’s a constellation map.” And then quickly moved on to another wall full equation scratched out and rewritten in ink, eyes quickly going over every possible formula.
Wallace moved closer to the Italian, “Ok, and what about it?”
“Your Nonno, I mean grandfather had this as a placement for time. The way that you position the circle and ledger help pinpoint where on Earth you want to be and at what time of day,” he patiently explained inhaling her scent of vanilla and fresh cotton, “And the clock is for what year you wish to be sent you whether past or present.”
Wallace was slowly connecting the dots, “So, the reason why it didn’t work when you pressed the button was because it was already set to a time and place I’m at?”
He nodded, “If you know your direct coordinates I can set it back to your home in America.”
Without missing a beat, “39° 57' 9.2988'' N and 75° 9' 54.7992'' W.” It was the IP address ingrained in her memory if she ever needed. Leonardo took the number and manually set the compass into its coordinates and it was done, he handed her back the clock.
“That is all, you are welcome to go back home.”
Wallace idly looked at the watch in her hands, then back at Leonardo. In a flash she was giving him a spine breaking hug as thanks, “I am so happy I got stuck in the mid-1400’s with one of the brightest minds.” Leonardo’s body was stiff upon receiving the hug, but slowly relaxed and gave her an awkward pat on the back.
“No problem Wallace, you were not meant to be here anyway.”
She broke the hug, “I guess you’re right,” there was a ghost smile on her face, “I guess I’ll see you later?”
He chuckled, he’d be long gone by then but he’s miss his short term acquaintance.
“I guess you will.”
And with a literal flash she was gone from his eyes. Leonardo sat back in his chair with a huff, he needed a drink. A pretty girl who just materialized out his vision, and an insanely logical story all within one day was too much for his mind. He moved himself upstairs to his dainty room full of paint and a bottle of liquor on his painting table. He sat himself down a and took a swig trying to calm his nerves, if that was a warning from God Himself to stop messing with the universe via his inventions then he was surely listening in. Taking the pencil that was settled atop his desk he began drawing random figures among the page.
The day he had, and the person he met were both highly… remarkable, but worrisome at most. For now he knew that science was by no means a myth, but a working subject matter that could bend the will of time and space. Also meaning that his theories on time travel had to be revamped. Putting the bottle down from his lips he pulled down a design for a similar watch that Wallace had, however it was bigger in stature and made to look like a sundial. There were too many synchronicities to his liking, he glanced down back at his hand.
There stood among the small sketches of ravens, hummingbirds, and trees a mini shoulder length portrait of Wallace. ‘The imitation angel,’ he thought to himself. Leonardo leaned back into his chair and blankly stared up at his cracked ceiling, a plethora of thoughts roamed his mind, but he couldn’t help think about crossing paths with Wallace again. Her knowledge and what she could teach him on his bulky electric conductor, deep down he knew that meeting her wasn’t a coincidence. He didn't believe in coincidences. But also also didn’t believe in seeing her again, his eyes glanced at the canisters of paint that littered his other desk, physically that is.
Wallace’s feet met solid ground, then her knees buckled beneath her. Not willing to take any chances, she dug for her phone to see the times as 7:32 in the evening just about the time she had left. She sighed in contentment, she was finally home, but something deep within her told her it was far from over. Whatever this was.
She stared at the pocket watch in her hand. ‘This thing is dangerous and by no means a toy… I don’t know how grandpa Leroy got his hands on it or why he didn’t break it earlier. It would be best for me to destroy it.’ Wallace weighed her options, the watch could bend time and potentially cause some type of world ending danger. Her thoughts were briefly interrupted by her aunt’s loud talking.
“Girl, she got me up her in the suburbs watching her child… I know, I know she a whole doctor she coulda hired a nanny. Best thing is I get to live lavish for the summer while my man traveli-Sis, I told you he gon visit me whenever his lil’ business trip done with, I’m sure my sister won’t mind the extra body.”
Wallace’s body visually shivered, ‘Leila’ she thought in disgust. She turned to the open garage door and admired the soft wind flowing in and the cotton candy and mango colored skies above her. She wasn’t scheduled for anything big this summer, her plans for NASA were in the trash, quite literally. She closed her eyes and took in a deep breathe, ‘I should really destroy this thing,’ she clenched the watch in her hand, ‘But, then again… it is “act out season” for a reason…’ Opening her eyes she stared down at the watch.
She looked at her horizon one more time and watched as the clouds moved impossible slow out of frame and dissipate into strikingly bold colors that put Wallace mind into a frenzy. And soon enough Wallace disappeared from her place in the garage, going with only one thing in mind.
‘Maybe Leonardo might need a muse.’
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OOC: DASH GAMES Tagged by: @evils-champion @nobedsidemanners Tagging: @theoceanslibrarian @silverblxd @featheatre (if you guys want)
I. WRITER AESTHETICS.
JOHN KEATS:
the lavender in sunsets . flowers in the rain . sunlight slipping through clouds . lazy summer afternoons . the heavy scent of musk . flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books . fireflies on a cool summer night . being wrapped in fresh bed-sheets.the ache of wanting what you can never have . dripping sunlight like gold . loving someone so exquisite . soft lips and soft whispers . fingers through hair . names of lovers carved in trees. broken glass . the insistence of being perpetually dreamy
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.
mahogany wood . crisp winter skies with cold bright stars . the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog . empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room . pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness . cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of blood, dirt alcohol . a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered . a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day . the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment . your favorite sweater . parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing . the contrast of blood against snow . a purple split lip oozing blood. black eyes fading to blue to pale skin . the butterflies of falling in love for the first time . the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries . the romanticization of self-destruction
FRANZ KAFKA.
the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future . decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there . the way not even light can escape a black hole . the rich smell of old books . delicate veins in the wrist . ghosts filling lungs . shattered bones . raindrops on the tongue . rusting metal .nostalgia that aches . the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head
H.P. LOVECRAFT.
the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave . pouring rain and mud . a child’s fear of the dark . thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean . the silence of three a.m. . danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house . the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain . explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night . ouija boards and urban legends
JACK KEROUAC.
the brisk pine air of being on a mountain . travels without a destination . those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory . screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive . coffee shops late at night . car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark . naps spent in the sun . novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins . the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders . ignoring flaws and loving life . wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain . impossible ideals . a quiet sunrise . walks alone . when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe. dazzling people . open lands stretching out into infinity . falling in love with being alive
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog . hollow bones . a preserved heart held in hands . twinkling stars above an old graveyard . the way everything turns to dust . silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom . self-inflicted flames . perfection depicted as a rotting corpse . death as bricks in the heart . lips barely brushing against each other . glassy glazed eyes . biting into a lemon . heart-shaped bruises . rotting flowers on a grave. dried blood and spilled liquor . the hush of dusk when it begins raining . the intimacy of a secret
II. FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION
Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.
SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.
THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.
THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones. kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.
BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves.treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.
THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.
LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.
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OOC: DASH GAMES Tagged by: @grapesandgold Tagging: Anyone who wants to.
I. WRITER AESTHETICS.
JOHN KEATS:
the lavender in sunsets . flowers in the rain . sunlight slipping through clouds . lazy summer afternoons . the heavy scent of musk .flickering candlelight reflecting off the gold titles of books . fireflies on a cool summer night . being wrapped in fresh bed-sheets. the ache of wanting what you can never have . dripping sunlight like gold . loving someone so exquisite . soft lips and soft whispers . fingers through hair . names of lovers carved in trees. broken glass . the insistence of being perpetually dreamy
F. SCOTT FITZGERALD.
mahogany wood . crisp winter skies with cold bright stars . the solitude of an early autumn morning wrapped in fog . empty bottles on stacks and stacks of books haphazardly placed in a messy room . pale bruised arms reaching out into the darkness . cigarette smoke just barely hiding the scent of blood, dirt alcohol . a wall of books all poetry and old and weathered . a bad thunderstorm occurring at the end of a beautiful day . the way tragedy strikes in your heart but ends up stopping your breathing for a moment . your favorite sweater . parties spilling into four a.m. with the stars above spinning and dancing . the contrast of blood against snow . a purple split lip oozing blood. black eyes fading to blue to pale skin . the butterflies of falling in love for the first time . the statues falling apart over time in cemeteries . the romanticization of self-destruction
FRANZ KAFKA.
the weight of dread that sits heavily in your stomach when thinking about the future . decrepit houses cloaked in mystery from children telling stories of people who died there . the way not even light can escape a black hole . the rich smell of old books . delicate veins in the wrist .ghosts filling lungs . shattered bones . raindrops on the tongue . rusting metal .nostalgia that aches . the way hope feels like a plastic bag over your head
H.P. LOVECRAFT.
the anxiety felt when staring into an unknown cave . pouring rain and mud . a child’s fear of the dark . thinking so many questions about your existence as you stare at the vast expanse of never ending ocean . the silence of three a.m. . danse macabre by camille saint-saens playing on a record in an empty house . the possibility of aliens and the weird feeling it gives you that you can’t explain . explainable phenomena, strange lights in the sky in the dead of night . ouija boards and urban legends
JACK KEROUAC.
the brisk pine air of being on a mountain . travels without a destination . those nights where you’re missing three hours of memory .screaming to a lifeless desert about how you’re so alive . coffee shops late at night . car rides at night spent speeding and laughing in the dark . naps spent in the sun . novels highlighted and underlined with notes and epiphanies in the margins . the way uncertainty sits on the shoulders . ignoring flaws and loving life . wind through hair, depression as fog in the brain . impossible ideals . a quiet sunrise . walks alone . when you think about trying to discover all the secrets to the universe. dazzling people . open lands stretching out into infinity .falling in love with being alive
EDGAR ALLAN POE.
the ocean’s horizon inseparable from fog . hollow bones . a preserved heart held in hands . twinkling stars above an old graveyard . the way everything turns to dust . silent black birds with eyes full of wisdom . self-inflicted flames . perfection depicted as a rotting corpse . death as bricks in the heart . lips barely brushing against each other . glassy glazed eyes . biting into a lemon . heart-shaped bruises . rotting flowers on a grave. dried blood and spilled liquor . the hush of dusk when it begins raining . the intimacy of a secret
II. FAIRY TALE AESTHETICS: BROTHERS GRIMM VERSION
Rules: Bold what applies to your muse and repost. do not reblog.
SNOW WHITE. jade trinket boxes. taste of iron. fingertips on a mirror. yellow and green with envy. long handled hunting knives. sewing by the window. combs laced with pearls and poison. an apple white one side and red the other. white doves. frosted glass.
THE MAIDEN WITHOUT HANDS. a blunt axe. a ring of chalk. tear-stained cheeks. sweet pears. hands tied behind back. shallow rivers. aching feet, walking for days. flowing gown. liquid silver. wax seals. blinding lights.
THE THREE LITTLE GNOMES IN THE FOREST. lukewarm bath water. sapphire butterflies. tiny milk snakes. baskets of strawberries. fat toads. sparkling snow. fur cloaks. raw gemstones.kettles made of copper. red wine. a tiny cottage in the middle of nowhere.
BLUE BEARD. a tiny key made of gold. pools of blood. stains that won’t rub away. galloping hooves.treasures from far away lands. dragging by the hair. dark and damp cellars. marble walls. shivering with fear. screaming at the top of your lungs.
THE SIX SWANS. sitting side-saddle. daughter of a witch. nettles. white feathers. refusing to smile. needles and threads. a castle in the forest. sound of beating wings. birthmarks. climbing trees. balls of yarn. silver crowns.
LITTLE RED CAP. wildflowers. rich-tasting cake. wicker baskets. the path rarely trod. sharp teeth. curtains drawn. a dying fireplace. grey pelts. red velvet. handmade quilts. sunlight peeking through branches. opening corks with a satisfying pop. looking someone directly in the eye.
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The Lost Island ~ Chapter Two
And as I suspected, it wasn't. I was stuck in between Catherine who was dressed and Crystal, who was scrambling to find her pink shoes that matched her dress. Catherine and I were seated on my bed, Catherine reading a book she had found on my bedroom floor while I was playing with an old Yoyo, let me tell you, I wasn’t very good.
“I knew there was a reason I never used that thing” I grumbled to myself.
“It’s all about practice Delly, my Mom can yoyo really well” Crystal stated as she found her shoes.
When Crystal was finally ready, I ran down stairs to be greeted by a rampaging Alex who knocked me down.
“Addy!” Alex both yelled and signed “You've been gone for ages! I haven't seen you in like forever!” She said dramatically
“I know! Crys trapped me in her fluffy pink dungeon! It was torture Al! Torture!” I said crying out, dropping to my knees for effect.
Alex fake gasped “Crys! How could you?! Come on Addy! I'll save you!” Alex pulled me into the living room. Where Logan and Keira were deciding on a movie to watch.
“Alex! Come on! We're going to watch a movie!” Lily told Alex
“What about the magic show?” I asked
“Oh! Uriah’s got the chicken pox so we have to wait until he's over them to do it” Lily said
“Alright then”
So now we were watching Toy Story. Crystal’s mum, Elena, was going to be here any moment.
Thump! Thump! Thump!
Right on que! I went to go open the door and I was surprised by what I saw.
Not only was Elena there, but Catherine’s mother Dalilah was right next to her. Though she preferred to be called Ms. Towle.
“M-Ms. Towle! I didn't expect to see you” I said.
I turned sideways, gently pulling a frozen Catherine out of the way. She mostly went to my house to escape from her mother, not that she didn't love her, but because she was so overbearing.
“Hello Adriana” She greeted in the finger language so that Catherine could understand us, but also out loud, so that Alex may hear us as she appeared on my other side. Ms. Towle dragged in seven extremely large suitcases and four smaller ones. My head finally clicked around what was happening.
“Mother?! What are these for?” Catherine asked, for the leader and smartest of the group, she did have her moments.
“You, Catherine and Alexandria are going to go to that boarding school. I-” Alex interrupted her mother.
“I thought I was too young?”
“They have a special program for younger children, I have registered you both already” Her mother replied irritably.
“What about our- Er- Disabilities?” Catherine questioned, her fingers shaking slightly.
“They are perfectly fine with taking you both in, they are going to help with it. So, as I was saying before. I have arranged with Adriana's mother, that you two will be staying here for the remaining how ever-many days until you leave for your school. You will be coming back here for both Christmas and spring breaks. I will be in contact girls.”
And with that, Ms. Towle kissed both Catherine and Alex's heads and left out the other door, giving Bets and I slight nods.
I looked over at Alex to see that she was elated. But when I looked to Catherine, she was pooling with emotions. Joy, Happiness, Sadness, Anger. Like she didn't even know how to feel.
“Well girls! Let's get going!” Elena said cheerfully. The apple never falls far from the tree. This was going to be a long night.
THUNK!
I threw myself on my bed. I had been correct. It had not been a rough night, just tiring. Fun none the less.
“You know one of these days you're going to do that and break your bed, it’s only wood after all” Catherine pointed out to me, not even looking up from her book. Nerd.
“Nah! It's just metal painted really well to look like wood” I knocked my fist against the base of my bed, causing several clanking noises. “See?” I said to her
Catherine merely rolled her eyes.
“Dell?” Crystal asked in an extremely sweet voice. Uh Oh...
“Yes?” I said cautiously
“Can you draw me an otter?” She said using the same tone.
“Why?” I asked
“Because you draw best out of us. And I NEED one”
I sighed, but nodded anyway, making Crystal squeal with joy.
So, a grabbed my large art bag and opened it to grab out my stuff, I had a lot of art supplies. Art was one of my major hobbies, I had everything from water-color pencils to oil pastels.
Soon enough Catherine and Crystal were on the bean bags watching a movie.
A loud thump knocked me out of my concentrated drawing. I looked over my sketchpad, to see Catherine on the floor, asleep.
“Can he be pink?” Crystal asked from where she was playing (Or as I like to call it “Babying”) with Lee.
“I didn't know otters could be pink” I stated.
“Well this one can.”
I watched as Crystal babied Lee and I rolled my eyes.
“You guys baby her too much.” I mused.
“You tell me every time, but she loves it” Bets said airily
“What?” I asked incredulously.
“She loves us all very much and loves it when we “Baby” Her” Bets told me
I chose to ignore this, with Crystal, you never know what's going to come out of the girl.
“And- Done!” I said, finishing the shading and coloring on the pink otter.
“I knew you could do it! I hereby make you my official artist!” Crystal exclaimed happily.
“Oh, I thank thee, thy highness. Mine humblest thanks and gratitude!” I said.
Crystal and I looked at each other for a moment then burst out laughing. Yeah, my friends and I were weird, but they were my weirdos and I was theirs. Catherine groaned, sat up, threw a pillow at us, and laid back down again.
After this, Crystal and I continued to pelt each other, and Catherine, with pillows until we collapsed, with the movie playing in the background.
CRASH
I jolted up from my sleeping stated, the sound had been muffled by two floors, but me being the light sleeper I am, I woke up. I cautiously slid off the bean bag chair that I had fallen asleep on. Grabbing my slippers and putting them on, while I walked upstairs.
What I saw when I walked into the living room, made me drop to the floor, unable to contain my laughter.
Lily had her lower abdomen and legs tangled in her blankets on the couch, while her upper half was on the floor. While Alex on the other hand, had caused the crash because she literally did fall to the floor. With her blanket covering her.
Once I composed myself, I lifted Lily’s heavy body, fully onto the couch, before turning to Alex and doing the same. I almost fell over because I lifted her up too fast.
After that incident, I went upstairs to check on Lysander, Uriah and Maya.
Uriah had gone into my mother and fathers room, like he did every night, Lysander was sprawled out, all over his bed like normal.
Maya was sitting awake, on her bed, chewing on a plastic teething ring.
“Addy!” She cried out happily as I stood in the doorway.
“Looks like someone’s up early” I said to her, smiling as I did so.
“Duck!” She said. Holding out her favorite rubber duck
“That's right! Duck! And what does the duck say?” I asked
“Quack!” Maya imitated.
“Good job” I praised as I picked her up and carried her down stairs.
I peeled her a banana (Yuck), and peeled myself an orange. I sat myself down on the couch and watched as Maya played with her dolls.
Fifteen minutes later. Maya and Twilight were having an all-out battle. And me being me, I decided it would be a good idea to leave them alone while I went to take a shower. Boy, was I ever wrong.
“OK Maya, I'm going to go shower. Be good, don't destroy anything, make sure that Twilight doesn't tear up the couches, don't go outside and eat anything off the ground, don't go bug your brothers, leave Lily and Alex alone, no playing in Mobius’ and Iggy's litter box, no climbing the curtains, no taking the videos and books off the shelves, no tearing book pages and no messing in the kitchen” I said to Maya who only looked at me “Yes I know that you can't understand me, just bear with me”
Yes, Maya had done all that stuff and much, much more. So, I wandered up the stairs to the bathroom and turned on the hot water and had a quick shower, not really wanting to leave Maya alone for too long.
Oh, I knew that that was a bad idea. I walked down stairs completely dressed for the day and it was quiet, too quiet.
I walked into the kitchen, where I heard giggling and barking. Bracing myself for the worst, I opened the door and my eyes widened to the size of saucers at what I saw.
Maya was standing on the counter, throwing dog treats and cat nip for both of our cats, Twilight and Lee.
I watched as she threw a hand full, looked over at me, hid the dog treat she had in her hand, behind her back and look at me with her “I'm innocent” look that works on everyone, including myself.
“Promise me you'll only use your powers for good” I told her as I approached.
“Quack!” Maya exclaimed as she threw the last bit of cat nip and dog chews for the dogs and cats.
I carried Maya downstairs to where Catherine and Crystal were sleeping. I put Maya next to Crystal’s ears and told her what to do. I then ran to grab a large bucket of ice water to throw on Catherine.
“One... Two... Three!” I counted and I threw the water onto Catherine, while at the same time Maya stuck her wet fingers into Crystal ears.
They both screamed away and I grabbed Maya and we ran.
Maya and I were outside, watching the birds in the sky, drawing with chalk on the sidewalk and playing with Twilight.
“Dell!” Catherine called.
I was still a little unsure if Catherine and Crystal wanted to get revenge on me, so I cautiously yet casually walked into the house, where Catherine was dressed and waiting.
“Your mum needs us to go to the store,” Catherine told me
“But I don't want to!” I whined
“Well you have to,” Crystal said
“Is this your form of revenge?” I asked
They looked at each other for a moment. “Yup” They said.
I sighed, went to grab my bag and my mother handed me the list and money, then we left. On the way, I handed Catherine the money and the list.
“You guys do realize that going to the school is going to change things forever” I stated bluntly, bringing up the topic that we were all avoiding.
“I think that's the point Delly,” Crystal pointed out to me
“Is one of them, telling you that?” Catherine asked me
“No. But do you ever get those feelings that something really important is going to happen? That's what I've been feeling for the past four days,” I told them
“I agree. I just wonder what's going to happen,” Catherine asked
Half way to the store, I started to see some very weird people, and if you take that offensively then that's your choice. But these people were down right strange. It was verging on summer weather and some of these people were wearing winter jackets and boots! I swore one of them even had gills!
“Am I the only one seeing this?” I asked
“You mean the strange people, with wooden limbs and lava rock hands?” Crystal asked
“I see them. But it's rude to stare guys!” Catherine scolded as we approached the super market.
We walked in and we were instantly greeted with a wave of coolness that was the store. I sighed in relief and looked to Catherine.
“We need Apples, Oranges, milk, Sugar, Coffee-.”
“Blech!” I exclaimed
“-Chocolate chips, eggs, baking powder and cinnamon,” Catherine said ignoring my comment
“And Ice cream!” I stated
“Yeah!” Crystal agreed
“No! No, ice Cream” But Catherine was interrupted by Crystal and I both running off.
This was how trips to the shop usually went, Catherine would tell us what we needed, Crystal and I would decide on an extra treat, then run off before Catherine could tell us off. Poor Catherine.
“Strawberry, Mint, Raspberry, Chocolate, Vanilla, Orange, bubblegum and cookies and cream,” I said as I picked them out.
“Ice cream time, Ice cream time! Time to eat ice cream!” Crystal sang.
We walked back up to the cash register, where Catherine was setting out the things from the list.
“Cookies and cream?” She asked, not even bothering to scold us for running away.
“Yep! We've got enough for an ice cream war,” I stated.
“What's an ice cream war?” Catherine asked, her eyebrows furrowing in confusion. The cashier was giving us weird looks for only speaking in sign language.
“It's when each of us get one tub, because these things are huge, and we separate into teams. Then we have a battle, where we throw ice cream at each other, last person standing wins,” I explained briefly.
“Why haven't we thought us this before?” Crystal asked incredulously.
“I know,” Catherine agreed.
We may be fifteen-years-old, but we can still be as childish as seven-year-old. It's not our fault.
We grabbed our bags and walked out the door. Once again, I noticed the strange people. The one with gills had gone, but was replaced with on with a robotic eye. OK... Are we going into a robot war, and why wasn't I told?
“Am I the only on seeing this?”
“If you mean the weird people again then no, I see them too,”” Catherine reassured me.
“What are they?” I asked
“Dell! That's rude! They're a “who” Not a “what,”” Catherine scolded
“Alright then, who are they,” I corrected irritably
“I don't know. But I think it's strange that we've been seeing them now-.”
“And every time we've seen them before we don't remember them and we see them most when we're-“ Crystal continued.
“Together.” I finished.
“Well. I don't know about you guys, but I don't want to be caught in some sort of X-Men, mutant war. It's not giving me a good feeling,” I told them, shuddering.
“I don't think we're looking at this the right way Delly. Don't get me wrong, I don't want to get caught in an “X-Men mutant war”. But I'm sure that there's got to be more to this,” Crystal stated
“What do you mean?” Catherine asked
“Well, think about us. What if they’re here looking for people like us?” Crystal pointed out
“Like us?” I asked
“Out of all the people in the world, there has to be more people like us. It's just common logic,” Crystal continued
“I guess. But why would they be looking for us?” Catherine inquired
“Maybe there not looking for us, but protecting us. There are bad people in the world too”
This made sense to both myself and Catherine. If the world could just be full of good people, where would they learn from if the world was full of people with no mistakes? Some people may wish for the world to have peace and be perfect, but if it was perfect how would we learn to do anything?
“Makes sense,” Catherine spoke
“It does. Since when did you get so wise Bets?” I asked
“I guess I'm just trying to keep an open mind about things,” Crystal shrugged
We walked through the doors and I called out to the kids.
“Ice Cream!”
“Ice cream!”
“Stampede!” I cried out and we ducked for cover. Even Catherine, who couldn't hear us, ducked knowing from experience.
I held up three fingers counting down and when I reached zero we jumped out and ambushed the kids. Pelting them with ice cream. The kids screamed as the frozen treat hit them.
I tossed Alex a tub and we ran outside to where my mother and father had set up the sprinklers and the pool. Ice cream was being flung everywhere, I ducked behind a tree, climbed up it and started tossing ice cream at people from the branches. Catherine had hidden behind a stone wall that separated the top part of the yard from the bottom part. Crystal and Lysander were using the pool as cover, though when the ice cream hit the water it splashed up and got them wet.
Catherine ducked out from where she was hiding and hit Crystal from where her head was just barely poking out from where she had been hiding. I quickly jumped from my tree and threw a giant glob of ice cream at Catherine, which hit her in the back of the head and sent her tumbling face first into the pool. Only for me to be tackled in by Lily and Lysander. Then for Alex, Crystal and Uriah to jump in after because everyone else was doing it. We stayed in the pool, swimming around, for a good fifteen minutes before Catherine, Crystal and I got out to get change out of our soaking shorts and t-shirts that were now so wet that they were sticking to our skin. So, it was a race to see who could get to one of the two bathrooms to shower first.
As Catherine and Crystal ran upstairs, pushing each other for the larger bathroom, I went to the basement for another shower. I grabbed warm, dry clothes from my dresser before jumping into a cold shower, and I was in and out within Five minutes.
*
It was four hours later, Catherine, Crystal and I had done nothing but sit in the sun chatting. I was sure that Crystal had fallen asleep. Catherine was sitting there talking to me as we discussed the strange people. I know, it's a continuing topic, but it's an important one. I feel like there is something more to it.
“Alphs, I feel like there’s something we’re missing,” I said
“I know what you mean. Think about it, how often do you see these weird people?”
I tried to think for a moment, I knew that we had seen them briefly as we walked by today, I remembered seeing them the other day on the way to school when I saw one of them standing in the middle of the road. I tried harder to think of other times where I had seen them, I wondered if I had ever had a conversation with them, maybe I had once asked them for directions? Maybe Crystal had asked them if they had any baby animals.
But no matter how hard I tried I couldn’t think of any times I had spoken to the unusual people. Not one.
“I mean, I don’t really know. I have seen them around, by school, out front of the store, maybe out by the park. But I can’t remember ever having a conversation with them” I told her
Catherine shook her head “I think- I’m not sure, but I think I’ve talked to them once. When I was younger. It’s blurry, like there’s a fog over the memory. I remember walking down the street, everything seems bigger so I must be younger, I remember seeing one of them, she has a monocle, but her other eye is black, like completely black. For some reason, I found this cool and I wanted to go talk to her. I think we had a conversation, a small one, but then she took out this device, almost like a remote and then. . . I don’t know, that’s all I can remember. It almost hurts to think about it” Catherine explained.
Listening to her talk, hanging on her ever word, I wondered how long they had been watching us for. If they were even watching us at all.
“Do you think they’ve been here since we were kids?”
“Well technically we still are kids. But I get what you mean. It is a possibility. I don’t remember that far back. I don’t think I’ve ever had a proper conversation with one, other than that one time. I’m not too sure that that one time even happened”
“Alphs, how often do you see them? Like more so when all three of us are together?” I asked
Catherine looked at me with her eyebrows furrowed and thought for a moment “I think so. I mean, I remember seeing them more often when we are together. Do you think the voices know?” she questioned
I shook my head “I think that they know something. Arrow kept talking about “The Big Guy” and Cal spoke almost like she was afraid of whoever this big guy is”
“So, if they've been here since we were kids-,” Catherine started
“And have some sort of tech that can erase memories-,” I continued
“And they show up more often when we’re together-,” Catherine pointed out
“And they are possibly somehow connected with the voices in our heads-”
“That have something to do with an even bigger scheme of things, but they won't tell us because-”
“Of the so called “Big Guy” That's controlling them and telling them what to do-”
“Or what to say. So, there's only a limited number of things that they can tell us-”
“So, we have to figure out how to get these people to talk to us-”
“And figure out why they're here and what they're doing with our memories,” Catherine finished
“Well” I same dragging out the word. “We're screwed” I stated
“Definitely,” Catherine agreed.
“So, until the time of such screwing happens, what do you want to do?” Catherine asked after a few moments
“Let us go and see what Alex and Lily are doing, they're being too quiet for their own good” I stated and we went quietly inside to check on the silent children.
And it turned out that I was right. Lily and Alex were not up in Lily's room where they had been staying, but no they couldn't be where they were supposed to be, they were down in my room.
When we found them, they were filling our pillow cases with whipped cream and hiding stink bombs under beds.
“And what do you think you are doing?” I asked using both forms of words.
“Uh- We were just uh- You see we- We got to go,” they said running out of the basement.
“Looks like we're going on a stink bomb hunt and are getting new pillow cases,” I stated to Catherine who only chuckled.
Over the next twenty minutes, we found five stink bombs underneath of our beds, in our dressers and some even in our suitcases. We had emptied our pillow cases of the whipped cream and were putting new ones on. But we left Crystals’ alone. Who doesn't like surprises?
“Bets isn't going to be happy,” Catherine said to me
“Nope”
“And you don't care?”
“Nope”
“What do you plan on telling her when she finds out?”
“It goes like this and I repeat.” I cleared my throat “Alphs did it!” I cried out
“Thanks! Throw me under the bus will you”
“What would you expect from me?” I asked
“Nothing further from that.”
“Well you can't blame me!” I exclaimed
“Yes, we know. You were dropped on your head as an infant” Catherine teased me, with a small smile on her face.
“Hey! I was not dropped on my head, I feel off the swing set!”
“Alright. You fell off a swing set. My point is that you are weird.”
“Weird doesn't even begin to describe it. I have my own category of weird.”
Catherine rolled her eyes at my silliness “But, thinking back to the beginning of the conversation, how do you think Bets will react?” I asked eagerly.
“Oh, there's probably going to be a lot of screaming, yelling, cursing the otters. She may even swear for the first time!” Catherine said.
“That'll be the day Dell. You know we’ve made quite a few memories here in our home town,” Catherine said after a moment.
“I think the best time was Bets trying to climb the tree and her falling off, then cursing the were-rabbits that had put a curse on her. That was when she made her platform,” I recalled.
“Ah yes! That was also the day I fixed my first sprained ankle and the reason the first aid kit is still there.”
“We'll have to go there in the next few day to take all of our stuff out as well,” I said sadly.
“Don't be sad Dell. I read that the school is surrounded by forest. If we wanted we could make a bigger one there that we could live in instead of the school.”
“Think we'd anger the headmistress by doing that,” I pointed out.
“Well she doesn't need to know. But think of all the space we would have if we made it there. We'd have our own homes, kitchens, living spaces, bedrooms. And we won't have to room with anybody we don't know,” Catherine pointed out.
“With our luck, we'll be roomed with our enemies or something”
“How do you get your dorms anyway?” Catherine asked.
“I have no clue. Apparently, they have” I shuddered “Uniforms I think it's like a “Let's judge this kid by the way that he/she dresses and acts and place him/her with the other kids.””
“Well then. Do you think we'll be separated?”
“I don't think you and I will be. You're just a bit quieter than me, being deaf and all, but I think that either we'll all be together or Bets will go to some place different.”
“I wonder if they even have a place that Bets would qualify to go to.”
“There have to be at least another fifty kids that are like her. We can at least hope I guess.”
“We'll definitely be together though. I have this feeling though.”
“What do you mean?”
“I think we're going to find our Gamma there.”
“Yeah. Our last member. Could you imagine that?!” Alphs asked.
I guess I should explain.
What we mean by our ‘Gamma’ is the last member of our group. They, the Gamma, would be the person whose advice was respected, and they can maintain order during chaos.
It’s kind of silly, referring to ourselves as a pack rather than a group, but the three of us agree that a pack is closer than just a group, a pack is family and they take care of each other. I guess in the beginning we all agreed that we should have nicknames the represent our ‘Ranks’ in the pack, Catherine got the highest one because, even though she wasn’t exactly bold, both Crystal and I knew that she was brave and that she would fit best in the highest leader position.
Crystal got the second highest rank because Catherine thought that she would make the best ‘Second in Command’ even though she may not look or act like it, Crystal is very smart.
And I got a semi-lower rank because I don’t do well as a leader, despite what the others may tell you, I chose to be the one who is the voice for the rest of the pack, and, if necessary, I would lead the others if I needed to.
“I hope it’s a boy. I don’t think I could survive another girl. Especially if they're anything like Bets. She's a handful at the best of times.”
“I have to agree. So, is that the last of them?” Catherine asked referring to the stink bombs and whipped cream pillow cases.
“Yeah I think so. It's hard to believe that after six years of knowing each other and practically living with each other, that we must leave now. It's just so hard to believe you know?” I asked.
“I know. It's just strange to think that after all this time, we'll be going to some new place. New people. New Ways of life. New everything It's just not right,” Catherine stated.
“I agree.” Zell and Arrow chorused.
“Alright. So, do I have your guys' attention?” I asked.
“Yep” They said.
“Good. Do those people have anything to do with the school?” I asked.
“Yup,” Arrow said.
“Are they like me?” I tried.
“Not Bein' exactly like yer-self, but ther' close enough,” Zell stated
“Alright will you stop beating around the bush and tell me!” I snapped
“It's important that you know that we can't tell you everything,” Tori told me
“But we can tell you some things,” Cal Informed me.
“Like the fact that they are in fact protecting you,” Arrow stated.
“And that they be under strict orders not to be goin' near ya' or yer friends,” Zell said.
“So, if I went to talk to them, I'll get more out of them.”
“Most likely,” Zell and Arrow said
“But we could get in trouble!” Cal reminded us.
“Yeah! She isn't supposed to know these things! If master found out we told her-,” Tori started.
“Ye be worryin' too much Tor. We didn' tell Ads anythin' she shoudn' know,” Zell stated.
“Yeah, she figured it out herself,” Arrow pointed out.
“I'm just smart like that,” I smirked.
“I’m not getting into this,” Cal said.
It was six fifty-four in the evening. How would I know that? You can always count on Tori to know the time. Like to the millisecond. Catherine and I were hiding, waiting for Crystal to come down to bed.
“When is she coming?” I whined to Catherine who was about three meters away from me. She’d been keeping an eye out for Crystal for the past ten minutes.
“Now! So, shush!” She hushed me and I stuck my tongue out at her.
As soon as she did this I heard footsteps coming downstairs, I instantly quieted down like I was instructed to. I saw from where I was hiding, I saw Crystal coming down the stairs. She went to her bed and threw herself down. Releasing the whipped cream that had filled her pillow case and covered her face. She squealed as the foam touched her face. She stumbled over to the cupboard where the stink bombs were hidden. As the light hit them they were set off and they blew up in Crystal’s face. Catherine and I covered our faces as the literal green cloud of stench came over to us. Bets coughed through the stink and stumbled onto her bed and fell into more whipped cream pillows.
Catherine and I were stuck in silent fits of laughter. Laughing was the only time you could hear Catherine. But we were trying to be as silent as humanely possible. Which in this scenario was not easy.
Though no matter how much we laughed, it was drowned out by Crystal screaming.
Due to this, Catherine and I began to laugh and unfortunately, we were not very quiet about it.
“Ah Ha!” Crystal shouted as her whipped cream covered face came into our view.
Catherine and I scrambled to get out of the way of Crystal who was trying to make us give her a hug.
“OH, Come on! You know you want to!” She called out as we ran upstairs and hid up the jungle gym/slide house thingy. We were panting from both running and laughing. Crystal looked through the window of Lily and Alex's room and scowled at us. We could see from out place in the tree that both Alex and Lily were laughing that their prank worked on at least one of us.
“They seem happy that their prank worked on someone,” Catherine told me.
I nodded, trying to catch my breath, while looking around to make sure that Crystal wasn’t approaching us before I slid down the slide, which I was much too big for, Catherine following me closely. I turned to Catherine with a grin.
“Whelp! It's almost dinner time and I'm craving Soup and Garlic bread”
“Warning! It's going to be an amusing dinner,” Arrow warned.
Thank The Epic Arrow for that warning because he was right.
About five minutes into the nice peaceful dinner I started to think that he was lying.
But Then My dad started cracking Star Wars toilet jokes that included but were not limited to “Luke Pull up Your Shorts” in a Ben Kenobi voice.
I was extremely disturbed.
It was currently nine forty-three in the morning. The next day if anyone is confused and I had pulled an all-nighter.
Reason being? I spent the entire time listening to music on my radio while sorting through all my stuff. I didn't realize that I had so much stuff until I had collected it all from around the house. Out of the toy bins, my stuffed animals, my aquarium, my novels, my action figures that I had collected, my old laptop, my old clothes, my art supplies, jewelry, my old kids camera, any old notebooks or paper related things that I had.
Considering that I was leaving in two days I figured that I would go through my stuff figure out what was going to charity, what I would give to the Kids and what I would take with me. I didn't intend for it to take all night. I only had intended for it to take an hour. But an hour turned into the entire night when I looked at my bed and floor stacked high with all my stuff on it.
I was sitting on my bed and I was almost passing out from exhaustion Catherine was in the half awake, half asleep state. While Crystal was completely snoring.
I had seven boxes that were going to charity.
Twelve that were going to the kids, each kid getting different things.
My two suitcases that were going with me were completely stuffed. I had three carry-ons as well. It was going to be a heavy load.
All of Catherine’s stuff fit into six suit cases and one carry-on.
All of Crystal’s stuff didn't even fit into my two and three plus Catherine's six and one. She had so much stuff that her mother was shipping half of it to the school itself! I don't know how one person could have as much stuff as Crystal did.
I knew one thing. This trip was going to take it out of me. The same was going to Catherine, Crystal and Alex.
That evening Catherine, Crystal and I set out to go find one of those people that Zell, Cal, Arrow and Tori told me about. Honestly, I didn’t think that we’d find anyone, but that might have been my sleep deprived brain.
“I don't think that we'll find just one of them. From what I've seen they travel in groups of four of three. On occasions, I'll see them in pairs of two but never one,” Catherine said.
“Maybe we'll get lucky!” Crystal chirped. Yeah . . . I highly doubt that.
It seemed to me that Catherine was having the same thoughts.
“Hey look! There's two there! Come one!” Crystal shouted as she ran.
“Bets! No-” Catherine didn't even finish her signing before Crystal was half way to them.
“Don't you find it a bit curious that we're out here for not even five minutes and there's already two of them there like they're waiting for us?” Catherine asked.
“Or the fact that they look extremely familiar?” I added.
But out thoughts were useless to the fact that Crystal had already cornered them.
“Excuse me? We have some questions if you wouldn't mind,” Crystal was saying as we approached.
“Um . . . Sure,” One said.
“You've been here since we were little, and show up most when we're together,” Crystal started.
“Not to mention that you have some sort of ability to take our memory of you” Catherine continued by signing, but they seemed to understand, this made me a bit more suspicious and cautious.
“But let's forget that for now and start with introductions. My name is Adriana, that is Catherine, and that Is Crystal. So, what do you have to say for yourselves?” I asked.
“Carter, Conner.” They introduced themselves. Carter had skin made of lava rocks, Conner seemed to be completely made of glass.
“So back to our questions. You have technology that can erase or block memories?” I asked.
“You - you aren't supposed to know all this,” Conner stuttered.
“Well for fun and giggles, let’s say we do. Is it true?” I asked.
“Yes,” Carter admitted.
“So, you have been taking them?” Crystal said.
“Yes”
“And you’re here protecting us?” Catherine stated.
“Yes.” Came the same answer.
“But you're not allowed to show yourselves?” Crystal said.
Nods.
“And now you'll be in a lot of trouble for speaking with us”
“Yes but-”
“And you can't take our memories again. It won't work anymore” Catherine reasoned.
Without even a second glance at us Carter lifted his hand, revealing a strange metal object that fit in his palm, connected with long, spiked cords that looked to be implanted into his fingers. Catherine was right, it did look slightly like a television remote, but it was smaller.
“No!” The others shouted. “Don't let him. It'll cause severe brain damage,” they told me.
Something clicked in my mind. Once I knew the danger, my mind took over. I lifted my hand and my eyes turned a deep golden that clouded over my vision as my fingertips turned that same color. Carter and Conner's eyes soon turned the same and Carter lowered his hand.
I didn't realize the effort that small little gesture took until I felt like I was in a dream, unable to feel my body and my vision clouded.
Catherine’s point of view.
I watched as Adriana fell and Crystal caught her, though Crystal struggled to hold Adriana up. Suddenly I didn't feel so safe around these people, but I pushed those thoughts away. I turned to them, faster than ever.
“Did you ever think, with those tiny little brains of yours, that stealing memories could cause brain damage!? You’re completely irresponsible!” I shouted. Suddenly something shot out of my chest, something like a shock wave that sent them flying. Crystal stared in shock as I panted. What did I just do? I looked down at myself, looking for something that could have caused the shock-wave thing, but I couldn’t see anything, which made me more confused.
We had to half carry-half drag Adriana l home. She didn't weigh much, but she was taller than us so it was a bit awkward. I was glad that Adriana’s family and Alex had gone out for Lily and Alex's choir practice. We walked through the door and had to throw Adriana on the couch. The breeze that was coming through the windows was not warm and I realized that Adriana was shivering.
I ran to the closet with spare blankets and grabbed a fleece one and threw it on Adriana.
“How did you do that Alphs?” Crystal asked me with a look of wonder on her face.
“I don't know. I just acted on instinct. I think that Dell did too.”
“What can I do?” Crystal wondered.
“I don't know try,” I urged.
Crystal screwed up her face slightly, something she did often and I burst out laughing. I didn't understand what I was laughing at, or what was so funny, I was just laughing. Crystal looked at me, slightly offended.
“What's so funny?” She asked.
“I really don't know” I said once I had calmed down. Crystal pouted slightly and that alone sent me into another rib breaking fit of laughter.
“What!” Crystal asked offended.
“I- Don't- Know!” My fingers faltered to get the words out properly.
“Meanie,” Crystal said.
Once I had calmed down I looked curiously at Crystal.
“OK what now,” Crystal asked, irritated.
“I don't understand why I was laughing. Nothing funny happened. But I was laughing like Dell had just taken a pie to the face,” I told her.
“I don't get it either!” Crystal pouted.
I heard Adriana groan and I looked to see her trying to sit up. Crystal ran and grabbed her a glass of water while I sat down in front of her, helping her sit up.
“Well that sure was f-,” Adriana started,
“Delly!” Crystal warned.
“Fun! I was going to say fun!”
“You alright?” I asked.
“Yeah. What the hell happened?” she asked.
“We don't know” I said.
“Well. When in doubt, jump about! Pizza party!” Adriana exclaimed and the fun was back.
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The dirt squelches under your determined steps. You are waterlogged, wet to the bone, and the rain shows no signs of letting up any time soon. A normal person would be inside right now, warm in their home or taking shelter in a shop in town until the storm passes, especially one of this magnitude that seemingly came from nowhere, but “normal” isn’t really in your playbook. You try not to feel personally attacked by nature’s impromptu deluge. The National Weather Service was scrambling to make sense of it, but the weather alert that had popped up on your phone nearly an hour ago now, said that the storm clouds had settled over your neck of the woods literally and specifically, the heart of the town curiously safe from the sepia toned curtain falling in front of the sun.
You’re not exactly Filled with Foreboding, you know what that feels like, but you’re on edge. You’d been overly cautious all day which had increasingly pissed off the movers through the day. You’re positive they were talking shit about you being a micro-managing asshole on the hour drive back to the other side of town, and in a way, it’s totally justified because nothing had come of the uncomfortable hollow feeling in the bottom of your stomach.
It’s your first day in your new house and you haven’t believed in coincidence since you were 13 years old, but weather doesn’t typically work like this. Weather can be tracked and studied, patterns giving people time to plan their lives around nature. This, whatever this is, has a distinctly unnatural feel to it. Like someone conjured storm clouds over your new house to send a message.
Everything had made it inside before the clouds rolled in and you’d waved the movers off before the rain dumped out of them. You’d hoped for a blessing, but this is slightly more aggressive than anything you’ve seen in the past. You’d been expecting an animal blessing. Sort of like the whole bird poo thing that people decided was good luck but was really just shit. (Storks are the only flying creature that deal in luck and you haven’t seen any around these parts.) Rain though, rain means frogs and you’d take a frog over a bird anytime. If the rain brings frogs, then you absolutely know that you chose the right place to practice.
You’d walked through the house after the movers left, getting a feel for it, noting the space and imagining everything in it’s proper place. You wound up in the attic. There are a lot of reasons, good and bad, that you decided to buy this house, but a big one was this attic. It’s big and open; the whole length and width of the two floors below without walls and doors bisecting the house’s energy. A massive window facing the backyard and following along the edges and angles of where the pointed roof meets the floor makes you think that the architect added this with the light of the sun and moon in mind. You’d walked over and fiddled with one of the latches, making sure that it won’t come open with the force of the storm, a faint buzz from the bottom left corner let you know that you don’t have to worry about any damage to the house from outside forces, which is certainly a handy bit of craft.
As if to emphasize that point, a jolt of lightning illuminated the backyard followed closely by a cracking boom of thunder that shook the house. And despite knowing that you were safe inside, your heart picked up speed as a streak light cut through the sky, hitting the fence that borders your property. You wondered if anyone else on the outskirts of town is getting hit like you are or if you’re just special. The wood of the fence didn’t catch on fire, rather it crackled to blackness and splintered apart, but that’s not what caught your eye.
An exaggerated bump developed under the branches of the live oak sometime between the last time you’d looked out into the yard some 30 minutes before and that moment. Your fingertips tingled like all the blood ran out of them. A sourness spread through your gut and you know you shouldn’t have, but you headed down the steps pooling your energy, hot and vibrating, into your hands. You opened the door and immediately feel the pull of the wind and the rain, the smell of wet dirt filling your nose as you step away from the fortress that is your house.
There’s a voice in your head telling you to go back inside and another railing over the ruination of your shoes, but louder than all that, was the need to investigate. Playing detective has gotten you in trouble before. “Special circumstances,” you explain to no one, teeth rattling around your skull and sputtering to keep water out of your mouth. The temperature had dropped dramatically since the afternoon and you find yourself wishing that heat were one of your talents.
It’s gotten so dark that you don’t notice the miniature hill that’s taken up residence isn’t covered in grass. Like someone had dumped a load of new dirt now turned into a black pile of mud. Or, you think, pacing the length of the protrusion, like someone buried something roughly the dimensions of a human. “Fuck.”
The wind picks up and changes the angle of the rain so that it’s pelting you from the side. A bright slash of lightning cracks somewhere above you and the pile…it’s writhing. Slowly, torturously, as if it were alive and in pain. Setting your hands on it, you push out of yourself and down into the dirt, feeling for life. You find it, but it’s small and steady, not thrumming with the kind of massive energy it would take to move like this. You help it find its way to the surface anyway and snort when a rather large frog fixes it’s eyes on you.
“Thought one of you might show up,” you say, and it croaks in response. The pile is still. One of your eyebrows travels up your forehead and point a skeptical look at your new friend. It shrugs, an interesting thing for a frog to do to say the least and launches itself of its perch squelching down into the grass, bunches it’s muscles up again and hops through the air. You don’t think anyone has referred to a frog as majestic before, but the word begs to be used as it glides through the rain, only stopping at your back door to turn its whole body and look at you expectantly.
“Okay, definitely not your garden variety luck frog then.” Thunder booms overhead, reminding you of its presence. You cast one look back at the stationary pile, uneasy with leaving it as is. The frog bellows impatiently. Hesitating, looking from the annoyed amphibian to the pile of dirt, you sigh and head toward the house.
You hold open the door for your first guest, its heavy, wet body slapping against the kitchen tile leaving a trail of mushy chunks of mud.
“Make yourself at home,” you call out to its back as it heads up the back stairs, “I’ll just clean this, I guess.” Trying very hard not to be too sulky about the mess and the fact that cleaning and housework in general are things that must be done manually.
You grab the box that has cleaning supplies in it and fish out paper towels. The sharp, quick noise of the towel tearing along the perforated edge is immensely satisfying. As is the crinkle of the plastic shopping bag you’re using as an on-the-go trash bag to throw the used towels in. You love noise. Not the noise of a city, metal grinding together and people yelling at each other to be heard, but personal noise. Being able to make sound without someone to tell you to shut up, walking with a heavy tread, not having to monitor the weight of your steps or worry about pissing someone off because you got too excited and spoke too loudly while they were trying to sleep or read or focus, and you feel so guilty for just being. And vice versa. It’s up to you how quiet or how loud your home will be because it’s your home and you decide what to fill it up with.
You follow the mud trail the frog left to the attic, wiping with less enthusiasm than you started with. Its sitting in the center of the floor. You’d say the exact center which is a strange choice. Though, it’s probably a good for you to know. You call for a piece of chalk and draw a circle around the frog.
“Thank you,” you say, and the chalk goes back to whichever box it came from. “Thank you, as well, Frog.” It nods once regally and hops out of the center easily.
“I grant you roam of the house, but I’m for bed,” you say grandly, but Frog stares at you even as you leave the room making you feel ridiculous.
It’s barely 9 o’clock when you collapse onto the blow-up mattress in your room, the storm has dissipated to a drizzle. Your thoughts float between Frog and the mysterious unit of dirt currently occupying your backyard. It’s been an eventful evening even for you. You thought (read: feared) that by deciding to move out to the country, away from the choked and dying air of the city and some of it’s residents, that life would get markedly more boring. Yes, you would have control of your space and only you would dictate how you live but being lonely doesn’t suit you. It’s part of why you let Frog in, aside from the risk of being given bad luck by an ultimate luck dealer if you didn’t, just knowing that Frog is wandering around the rest of the house, full of boxes and the buzzing undercurrent of energy, is a great comfort.
You must have picked a good place if a luck frog is staying with you on your first night is the last thought you have before slipping into sleep…
…
You sit straight up in bed, woken by a crash on the floor below. You grab your phone and blind yourself with the screen’s brightness to check the time. Three in the morning on the dot. Your stomach twists.
Your fingers tingle, electric pricks of power readying for use.
Barely marking the steps, you fly down the stairs, opting for speed instead of stealth, to confront the perpetrator of the crash.
And there, naked, though covered in clumps of dirt and various bits of nature, a man. He looks as panicked as you feel.
He takes a step forward and your hands come up in front of you on instinct, but you’re too late. You feel sluggish, power draining and consciousness slipping. You crumple to your knees, hardly feeling the harsh impact, only being able to tell it was rough by the scrunched concern on the intruder’s face, which is now very close to yours. His mud slicked arms wrap around you for support. A tear falls out of the corner of your eye. He reaches to wipe it only to realize how dirty he is and yank his hand back.
“Sorry! I’m so sorry! You’ll be fine!” His voice is deep. It rattles in his chest, you feel the vibrations against your arm. It’s oddly comforting, considering this stranger just drained the energy right out of you.
Your eyelids are getting heavier, harder to hold open. His muscles tense under and around you and when you open your eyes again, you understand why. He’s carrying you. A steady rising motion as he carries you directly back to your room. How does he know where your room is? A faint croak comes from directly in front of the both of you.
“Traitor,” you faintly croak back, and he stiffens around you, picking up speed.
He could have dropped you straight from his arms to the mattress, but he lays you down with utmost care. The moment his arms aren’t around you, the cold creeps in alongside the fear and you try to roll away from your perceived attacker.
“I’m so sorry, but you have to rest now.” He puts a hand on your shoulder, warmth spreads through your body. Your muscles relax, and you drift.
The last thing you see is Frog with its full attention on tall, dark, and muddy, before you sink into sleep.
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