#car rentals gold coast airport

[tweedheadsaustralia]

Fantastic Family Entertainer

[mercedes-car-rental]

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[ocraustralia]

OCR Car Rentals: Gold Coast Airport Car Rental Services

Start your Gold Coast adventure with ease when you rent a car from OCR Car Rentals, conveniently located at Gold Coast Airport. Our wide range of vehicles includes economy, compact, and luxury cars, as well as SUVs and vans. With affordable rates and no hidden fees, we make it easy to get behind the wheel and explore the city's stunning beaches, theme parks, and attractions. Book now and enjoy a hassle-free experience with OCR Car Rentals!

[gillysgatewaytransfers1]

What is the fastest way to get from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport?

The fastest means to get from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport terminal is by taking a private auto or taxi. This choice usually takes about 1 hour and also 45 minutes, relying on website traffic conditions

There are a number of taxi and ride-sharing solutions available in Byron Bay that can take you straight to Brisbane Airport. Uber, Ola, as well as DiDi are prominent options, as well as you can download their mobile apps to book your ride. Conversely, you can employ a private car or limousine solution, which can supply even more comfort and also deluxe during your trip.

To reserve a personal car or taxi, you can examine online for offered suppliers, or request referrals from your hotel or holiday accommodations. Some companies even use airport terminal transfer services where they will choose you up from your lodging in Byron Bay as well as drop you off straight at the flight terminal.

One more option is to rent out an automobile and drive yourself to the flight terminal. There are a number of cars and truck rental firms in Byron Bay, including Avis, Hertz, and Thrifty, which provide a variety of lorry types and also rental plans. You can select to lease a cars and truck for a one-way journey, as well as drop it off at the airport when you arrive.

Driving to the airport on your own can provide more adaptability and independence throughout your trip, and also permit you to make quits in the process if you want. The trip takes you along the Pacific Highway, and also travels through breathtaking seaside communities such as Ballina and Tweed Heads. Nonetheless, it is very important to note that web traffic can be hefty during peak times, so it is recommended to prepare your journey accordingly.

In recap, the fastest means to obtain from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport terminal is by taking an exclusive automobile or taxi, which can take around 1 hr as well as 45 minutes. Other options consist of leasing a car and also driving yourself, or taking mass transit such as buses or trains, which can take longer yet provide even more economical rates. Whichever option you pick, it is important to plan in advance and permit adequate time to reach the flight terminal prior to your flight.

Best 5 methods Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport Terminal

Right here are the 5 best methods to take a trip from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport:

Private automobile or taxi

The fastest as well as most practical way to travel from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport terminal is by taking an exclusive cars and truck or taxi. This alternative typically takes around 1 hr and also 45 minutes and also supplies door-to-door solution.

Shuttle bus

There are several shuttle services readily available that can take you from Byron Bay to Brisbane Airport. These solutions normally operate a set routine as well as deal budget friendly rates. You can reserve your shuttle bus flight online or through your hotel.

Rental automobile:

Renting a cars and truck is a preferred choice for those that favor to drive themselves. There are numerous cars and truck rental companies located in Byron Bay, as well as you can rent out a vehicle for a one-way trip to the airport terminal.

Public transportation:

Public transportation choices such as buses as well as trains are readily available from Byron Bay to Brisbane. While these options may be a lot more budget friendly, they can take longer and also entail transfers along the road.

Private transfer:

Private transfer solutions offer an even more extravagant as well as tailored experience. These solutions give an exclusive car or van as well as a professional motorist to take you straight to Brisbane Airport. This alternative can be more expensive however supplies a higher level of comfort and also ease.

If you are looking to book airport transfers or private airport transfer services in Byron Bay, Brisbane, Ballina, and Gold Coast in Australia then the one name that stands from the rest of the others is Gilly's Gateway Transfers.

[royaltyentertainment]

Luxury Car Hire in Gold Coast

Are you planning a trip to the Gold Coast and looking to add some luxury and style to your travels? Look no further than Royalty Entertainment, where we offer a range of luxury and prestige cars for hire on the Gold Coast.

Whether you are in town for a special event, a business trip, or a relaxing vacation, our luxury car rental service is the perfect choice for those looking to elevate their experience. We offer a range of high-end vehicles, including Lamborghini, Ferrari, Audi, and more, to ensure that you can travel in style and comfort.

Luxury Car Hire Gold Coast

At Royalty Entertainment, we understand that our clients are looking for more than just a car rental service - they are looking for an experience. That is why we offer a range of personalized services to ensure that your luxury car hire experience is truly unforgettable.

Our team of experts will work with you to create a personalized itinerary that allows you to experience the best of the Gold Coast in style. Whether you are looking for a chauffeur-driven service or a self-drive experience, we can tailor our services to meet your needs. We can also provide additional services such as airport transfers, hotel pick-ups, and even custom itineraries to help you make the most of your time on the Gold Coast.

Prestige Car Hire Gold Coast

If you are looking for a car that exudes sophistication and elegance, then our prestige car hire service is the perfect choice. We offer a range of high-end vehicles, including Audi, BMW, and Mercedes-Benz, to ensure that you can travel in style and comfort.

At Royalty Entertainment, we pride ourselves on providing our clients with the best possible service. That is why we offer a range of personalized services to ensure that your prestige car hire experience is truly unforgettable. Whether you are looking for a short-term rental or a long-term lease, we can tailor our services to meet your needs.

Rent Lamborghini Gold Coast

If you are looking for a car that is both luxurious and exotic, then our Lamborghini rental service is the perfect choice. Lamborghini is known for its distinctive design, powerful engines, and impressive performance, making it the ultimate choice for anyone looking to make a statement.

At Royalty Entertainment, we offer a range of Lamborghini models for rent on the Gold Coast, including the Lamborghini Aventador, the Lamborghini Huracan, and the Lamborghini Gallardo. Whether you are planning a weekend getaway, a corporate event, or a special occasion, our Lamborghini rental service is designed to meet your needs and exceed your expectations.

Luxury Car Rental Gold Coast

At Royalty Entertainment, we are passionate about providing our clients with the best possible service. That is why we offer a range of luxury cars for rent on the Gold Coast, including the latest models from Audi, BMW, Mercedes-Benz, and more.

Whether you are looking to explore the city in style, impress a business partner, or celebrate a special occasion, our luxury car rental service is designed to meet your needs and exceed your expectations. With a range of personalized services, we can help you create an experience that is truly unforgettable.

In conclusion, if you are looking to add some luxury and style to your travels on the Gold Coast, look no further than Royalty Entertainment. With our range of high-end vehicles, personalized services, and attention to detail, we are committed to providing our clients with the best possible experience. So why wait? Contact us today to learn more about our luxury car rental service on the Gold Coast.

[omanvacation]

The Best Ways to Drive Fly and Sail in Oman

The breathtaking landscapes of Oman are the main attractions of this country.

And to truly appreciate the rose-gold desert dunes, trails through mountainous terrain, white-sand beaches, sleepy fishing villages, and rocky valleys with turquoise pools, the best way to explore is by car.

While Oman's public transport system of buses and ferries will take you between major cities and towns, a private trip is recommended if you want to venture deeper in search of nature experiences as hiking, scuba diving or snorkeling are likely the highlights of any trip.

As well as accessing remote areas of the country, traveling by car in Oman gives you flexibility in your travel plans. There's nothing like accidentally stumbling upon a deserted beach in a bay and spontaneously deciding to pitch your tent under a starry sky.

If you're planning a road trip through the various regions of Oman, from the desert landscapes of Al Buraimi in the northwest and coastal cities like Muscat and Sur to inland walled cities like Nizwa and Bahla and farming villages in the Hajar Mountains, it must take at least a week. Add another week to your itinerary if you can't wait to drive to the beaches, verdant wadis (valleys), and nature reserves of the Dhofar region in the south, and perhaps visit a few islands.

Here's how to get around Oman during your visit.

 Domestic flights are the best way to significantly reduce travel times between certain regions and avoid spending entire days between them. Oman Air operates flights between Muscat, Duqm, Salalah, and Khasab, and Oman-based low-cost carrier Salam Air offers connections between Muscat, Sohar, and Salalah. Tickets can be booked online.

A car is an easiest and most flexible way to see Oman

Hiring a car is undoubtedly the easiest way to travel in Oman, giving you great flexibility, the best value for money, and the ability to reach remote locations that you would not reach by other means. You also have the freedom to wild camp on public land – just bring a tent, food, and a sleeping bag.

Cars can be rented at a slightly lower rate from international chains such as Avis and Thrifty or local companies, with your international driving license. You can book your rental car in advance and collect it at the arrival airport.

A dense network of paved roads in good condition connects the main cities and regions. In Oman, vehicles drive on the right side of the road; usually, lane discipline is enforced and traffic rules are observed. While driving in Muscat isn't as nerve-wracking as it is in Dubai in the neighboring UAE, it's best to move into the next lane and let your car pass if you find yourself being chased.

Road signs are written in both English and Arabic. Speed limits are 120 km/h (75 mph) on motorways, 90 km/h (55 mph) on country roads, and 40 km/h (25 mph) in residential areas; radar and speed cameras monitor all roads. While you can navigate with Google Maps, the Waze app is more accurate. There are many petrol stations with shops and toilets along the main roads.

Between November and March, days of heavy rainfall can occur throughout the country, accompanied by thunderstorms and strong gusts of wind. These days, road conditions are not ideal for driving: in Muscat, for example, roads may flood and some areas may be flooded, resulting in traffic congestion. As the sea can be rough during these times, it is best not to camp along the coast.

When planning a road trip through Oman, keep an eye on the weather and check the official website of the Directorate General of Meteorology for warnings of flash floods, dust storms, and tropical cyclones.

If you intend to drive in desert terrain or mountainous areas such as Jebel Akhdar (where you can expect steep, unpaved roads between villages and Wadis), it is advisable to hire a 4WD vehicle capable of off-road driving. Do not stray from existing tracks.

Off-road driving requires skill, common sense, and a good presence of mind. It's a good idea to bring along a long tow rope, a traction mat, and a shovel in case your vehicle gets stuck. Make sure you always have enough water and food in your car.

In Oman, it is not uncommon to see 2WD vehicles ill-equipped for the rugged terrain of the desert mountains and dunes breaking down or being stuck in the sand. In general, Omanis are helpful; if you find yourself in such a difficult situation, someone will usually come to help you. You may not be so lucky in remote areas.

When driving out of towns, keep an eye out for wandering camels and mountain goats. Flash floods can occur in wadis soon after it rains, and it can be difficult to get out of overcrowded wadis. Check the weather forecast and warnings before setting off.

Beware of driving on sabkha, a salt flat that appears solid and therefore easy to navigate until you get stuck; this is not recommended for inexperienced drivers. Look for signs warning visitors and look no further.

Hailing a taxi in Oman

You'll find privately owned orange and white cabs in Muscat and other cities outside of malls, hotels, and tourist attractions - they're safe, well-maintained, and comfortable. They are also unmetered, so fares need to be negotiated before getting in, but they're almost always cheaper than the alternative. The relatively MVH taxis (in red and white livery) are another option.

English is spoken in Muscat and drivers will be familiar with popular landmarks and tourist sites; otherwise, show them the location on a map on your smartphone. It is also possible to hire a private taxi to travel between cities or for a full day - ask the driver for the rate and availability.

While Uber, Careem, and Lyft aren't available in Oman, local smartphone apps include Oman Taxi: Otaxi and Marhaba Oman Taxi (the latter is slightly more expensive). Both allow you to select pickup and drop-off locations on a map, connect you with the nearest driver, and provide estimated rates.

According to the culture's unspoken rules, women traveling alone are advised to sit in the back seat, directly behind the driver rather than facing the driver.

Budget travelers should consider taking the bus

MVH operates public buses in Muscat and Salalah, as well as a network of inter-city and inter-regional buses and ferries across Oman, including connections between Muscat and Nizwa, Duqm, Bahla, Sur, Buraimi, the island of Masirah, Salalah, and Khasab.

Visitors can consult the daily timetables, routes, and fares on the network's website. Tickets are affordable – fares range from OR2 (US$5.20) to OR26 (US$67.50) – and can be purchased on board. The masala smartphone app is useful for its trip planner and interactive map.

The buses are clean, comfortable, safe, and air-conditioned. For travelers on a budget, buses offer the cheapest means of transport, both within and between cities.

Explore the coastal islands by boat

Ferry services from the mainland allow you to visit Oman's coastal islands, where you'll find dive sites rich in marine life, nature reserves, and pristine beaches. MVH operates a ferry service between Masirah Island and Shannah Port on the southeast coast and also operates a bus service from Muscat to Shannah Port. The journey to Hilf, the main town of Masirah Island, takes one hour. Cars can be transported on the ferry.

A ferry service also connects Shinas in northern Oman (accessible by bus from Muscat) to the ports of Khasab, Dibba, and Lima on the Musandam peninsula. You can view the routes, timetables, and fares and book your ferry tickets on the official website of the National Ferries Company (NFC).

Water taxis are the most convenient way to travel between the Al Mouj and Bandar Al Rowdha marinas in Muscat and Jebel Sifah Marina on the east coast.

The easiest way to reach the Daymaniyat Islands is with local operators such as SeaOman, who organize catamaran and speedboat trips to the islands, as well as scuba diving, snorkeling, and other water sports from Al Mouj Marina in Muscat and other locations along the coast. They also organize all the necessary permits to visit these islands.

If you are in a coastal city and want to explore nearby villages or islands (such as those near Al Sawadi), it is possible to hire one of the private boats from local operators and fishermen, for a day or to be dropped off and then picked up at a specific time.

Accessible transport in Oman

Most MVH buses are wheelchair accessible, with low floors and retractable ramps. The NFC ferries to Masirah Island and Musandam are also wheelchair accessible. For road travel, it is more convenient to rent an accessible vehicle with a hired driver from a private operator than from a rental company. 

In Muscat and other cities, newer and international hotels, shopping malls, tourist sites, marinas, some beaches, and retail districts are accessible. In some locations, there are designated parking spaces reserved for people with disabilities.  

Book Exciting and Entertaining Oman tour packages with Your Friends and Family. Mountain Valley Holidays Offers Amazing Travel Tour Services at Affordable Prices. read more About Oman | Trending Tours | Popular Excursions | Adventure Tours | Sea Tours | Camping Tours | MICE | Golf | Wedding Destination

[baxtonme]

Discounted Gold Coast Car Rentals Experience Rise in Business Visits that Boosts Economy Vehicle Hire at Coolangatta Airport To Ensure Cheap Holiday Flights

Gold Coast Car Rental CEO: Rise in Business Visits Boosts Economy

While there’s been a lot of media buzz about the soaring number of tourists thronging to Gold Coast in the past couple of years, it’s not just holidaying tourists behind the massive increase in visitor numbers. The number of business visitors who are making regular calls to the Australia’s Gold Coast has been taking off on a similar trajectory. And that’s great news in terms of the Gold Coast economy, according to Gold Coast Family Car Rentals CEO, Darryl Essington-Wilson.

Darryl sees nothing but benefits for the city in the current rise in overall visitor numbers, and the fact that business tourists form a growing part of them. And Darryl is someone who knows how to seize opportunities when they present themselves. When the veteran accountant and business consultant arrived in Gold Coast in 2001 and decided to settle there, he bought a house and two car rental companies on the same day.

One in 10 Visit Gold Coast on Business

Visitors to the Gold Coast totalled about 11 million last year, and their financial contribution to the local economy topped AUD5 billion. And they weren’t all tourists. Seeing this economic injection into the city and the increasing number of business visitors among them is like music to the ears of this Gold City entrepreneur. He believes the growth in the number of business visitors is a testimony to the city’s economic vibrancy which in turn points to a rise in business activity in general.

According to the 2017-2018 statistics released in March this year, close on 40% of those 11million visitors were overnighters, with an average stay of three to four nights. And nearly 400,000 of those were international and domestic visitors who did so for business reasons. A further 627 000 made day trips to the city for business reasons, bringing the total number of business visitors to over 1million, or just under 10% of the total number of visitors to Gold Coast City.

Land, Rent and Ride

For those intrastate and international visitors who fly into Gold Coast city for a few days, with tight deadlines and even tighter time constraints, convenience is a priority when it comes to arranging transport, whether they arrive for business or pleasure. Gold Coast Family Car Rentals, which prides itself on being one of the cheapest, and best value for money, car rental companies in the city, makes renting its cars as easy as possible for all those who fly in and fly out of the city with its pick up and drop off service at the Gold Coast Airport.

While Gold Coast Family Car Rentals usual focus is on tourists visiting to enjoy the area’s increasingly popular tourist attractions, those attending important meetings, conferences and expos in the city, visit clients, or fly in to keep an eye on one or more of the development projects in Gold Coast city, also stand to benefit from this service. And, who knows, some may well enjoy the opportunity to enjoy the sights and sounds of the Gold Coast in a rental car once the meetings are done for the day.

For those planning to travel in and around Gold Coast city and into the Gold Coast Hinterland in a rental car, learn more details about these restrictions, or book a guaranteed best value for money Gold Coast car rental, all it involves is booking online with Car Hire Gold Coast or Gold Coast Airport Car Rental, or call + 61 7 5508 3333. Pick up and drop off at the Gold Coast Airport can be arranged.

Syndicated by Baxton Media.

Discounted Gold Coast Car Rentals Experience Rise in Business Visits that Boosts Economy Vehicle Hire at Coolangatta Airport To Ensure Cheap Holiday Flights was originally published on Baxton

[dreamslimohire]

Car Hire For Queensland Airport | Dreams Limo Hire

We are a Springfield Lakes based car hire company who provide airport transfers for travellers. We have been in the business of providing reliable and affordable transfer services to customers. If you are looking for a car hire service in Queensland Airport, then look no further than Dreams Limo Hire. Whether it is an airport transfer or a corporate event, we have the right vehicle to suit your needs and budget. Call us today on +61 422 847 016.

[feverinfeveroutfic]

chapter one | welcome to new york

Sam made her way out of the house again, but that time with a towel slung over her shoulder; on her other shoulder was a canvas hand bag which held her brushes and her paints, as well as a few little white canvases. Those two little photographs tucked inside of her bikini top stayed in such a snug place that she almost forgot they were there by the time she had stepped out the front door back out to the hot sun. She slipped on her sunglasses once the bath of sunlight washed over her head and bare trim shoulders.

There was a pathway on the right side of the house, which led down to a little clearing; beyond that was a narrow pathway to the water's edge. She moved about the sand to keep it out of her little slip ons. It didn't seem that long ago, and everything from the past few years felt like such a flash and a blur. She could still feel them touching her and she swore that they both were going to be with her until one of them dropped dead. And yet they still slipped away from her, right through her fingers.

Sam stopped at the clearing for a second to adjust the towel on her shoulder, and to fix the lock of hair behind her ear. Too hot to do anything else. She knew there was a tree down by the waters to protect her from the sun.

Those photographs never budged from their hiding places in her bikini top. At one point, she took a look down at her chest and the pieces of yellow and blue fabric. Alex hidden away in the left, Joey in the right. That was exactly how she took them aside when it all started out. They were both on either of her arms and she managed to balance it all with her artistry and her social life.

It was a year ago when she met Joey and she was renting out an apartment in the outskirts of New York City. That was how it felt, anyways, as if it had just happened.

She had moved all the way out there from the second place she lived in following Lake Elsinore, Carson City, about three years before to live the artist life full time. A long way from home and yet she was willing to go forth with it all. Over two thousand miles and with the clothes on her back, Sam had settled into the neighborhood of New York City. It was some time later she met Alex.

And then she met Bill.

She went with Bill instead and there were moments wherein she questioned as to why she went with him instead of the two of them. She even spoke to one of her old friends before she left for the West Coast again, and Aurora asked her what had happened between her, Joey, and Alex. She replied with something that she couldn't exactly recall, but she went with him instead. He charmed her and tugged her away from them, at least that was how she saw it in hindsight.

There was a part of her that didn't want to think that, given her new home life. She was everyone's mom there in Lake Elsinore, and she was acting as Matilda and Cassie's mother. There was no way she could turn away from all of this. There was no way she could look at all of this and turn her back from it all, and head on back to New York City. For all she knew, someone had already taken her old apartment.

Aurora had begged her to return to the Big Apple, and yet she couldn't. Sam could still hear the tears in her voice. She looked down at the big rock on her right ring finger glimmered back at her like a hot ember from a fire. She couldn't return to that funky little neighborhood outside of the city.

She was stuck. She was stuck in a marriage that, deep down, did nothing for her anymore. And yet if she could bring Aurora and her fiance Emile out there for at least a visit, it would be a bit more bearable.

Aurora! She missed that whole circle of artist friends, but she missed her especially, because she was easily Sam's closest friend there in the City. Her jet black hair and her milky Japanese complexion, and the way in which she laughed that resembled to a pair of wine glasses tinkling together.

If there was any compliment she could give to her return to Lake Elsinore was painting and making art down by the surface of the waters. The noise of the city had fallen away into the silence of the mountains and the gentle white noise of the waters. And yet, she couldn't help but yearn for it all back again.

She recognized the willowy tree down by the water's edge, and she shuffled past a pair of low scraggly shrubs. Everything was so dry, even standing down there by the water; so dry that it made the crown of her head itch a bit. The hot sun beating down on the crown of her head didn't help matters, either.

She stepped over a dead tree branch and set down her hand bag on the smooth surface of the rock. She lifted her sunglasses up from her face and rested them atop the hot crown of black hair. Sam took a seat on top of the rock so the shade protected her from the hot sun.

She thought about Joey in particular, given he was the first one she met in the City. She set the canvas on her lap and rested the soles of her feet within the edge of the shade. One of the first things Joey had given her was a black and silver anklet, and she knew it was still in the jewelry box in the bedroom. She kept it tucked away in that little box and she wanted to keep it there forever. Keep it there forever, much like how that photograph of Joey had to be hidden away from the rest of the world.

Before she picked out one of the narrow brushes for herself, she reached into the right side for the photograph of Joey. It was so small, too small to do anything with, but it was better than nothing. It was better than having no way to see his round, sweet face and his black curls. The same went for the photo of Alex: she could see the gray sliver at the front of his head, the full tip of his nose, and his little Mona Lisa smile.

She had moved into that small studio apartment near the Bronx, about half a mile from the freeway. Nothing fancy, just a little two bedroom apartment with a view of the skyline from her window. Around then, she was still insisting on going by her full name of Samantha. The choice was either Los Angeles or New York, and she had been avoiding the former. Four years spent in Nevada and she vowed to never return to the Golden Empire. It simply didn't feel like an appropriate place for an up and coming artist, and it was all too familiar no less. It was that inner feeling about leaving home and traveling about the place, to see the world for herself and do whatever she pleased. The evening in which she was deciding whether or not to leave the little place in Carson City, she spotted the place in the listings and she knew it was perfect. She took the offer and she knew it was a new chapter for her.

Within a few days, she picked up everything she had and travelled that distance, alone. Even though her parents would show up within a day or so to help out with her settling into her new place, but she would go at it alone. The first plane ticket out to New York City and she found her rental car in the airport parking lot. She set one foot after the other down on the sidewalk before her.

It was a four storied little building of white stucco and with black trimming. It made her think of those old fashioned hospitals from the turn of the century. She strolled up the steps and made her way into the front lobby. There she met up with Emile St. Vitus, the landlord at the time. He was a young heavy guy with his disheveled black hair and his smooth milky skin.

“Samantha Shelley, right?” he asked her with an ever so slight Southern twang.

“That's my name,” she replied to him, and she couldn't resist the grin on her face.

“You got here pretty quickly,” he confessed to her as he rummaged through his black coat pockets. “I wasn't expectin' you for at least another few days.”

“It's just me,” she assured him; she knitted her eyebrows together at his feeling around for something. “What're you looking for?”

“Your key,” he replied. “It might be in back in my apartment.” He gestured for her to follow him back into that bottom hallway. She closed the heavy wooden door behind her, and it let out a sharp squeak all the while. That front lobby was cozy and narrow, perhaps no bigger for the width of a couch for someone to bring one in for their place. To her right stood a narrow stairwell with a wooden banister and steps covered in brand new dark carpet. The whole place smelled of lemons.

“Right this way,” he said to her again.

“Where are you from, by the way?” she asked him; she brought her head closer to his ear so he could hear her.

“Me?”

“Yeah.”

“New Orleans. I've lived in New York City, down in Manhattan, since I was five years old, though.”

“I was going to tell you—I like your accent.”

“Well, thank you. I haven't been in the Big Easy for a long time, but sometimes I'll slip sump'n out like 'darlin'' or 'y'all.'” Emile stopped before the third door on the left side of the hallway, and he took out the key from his jeans pocket. He pushed the door open.

“I'll wait right here,” she told him as she hung there at the doorway. It was a bit of a task, though, because of the luggage she had been carrying around for a time, but she was willing to let him delve around the place for that key in question. She adjusted the strap of her hand bag on her shoulder. Her bags rested down by her ankles, and the one holding her clothes stood further into the hallway; the inside of her fingers were tired from carrying them around.

“If you ever need anything, I'll be right in here,” he assured her.

“Sure, sure.”

Sam watched Emile shuffle through papers on the heavy dark wood coffee table. She glanced about the front room, which looked cozy and warm even in the face of the warm evening outside with everything closely knit together about the floor. One thing that caught her attention was the black crucifix on the opposite wall right in front of her. The body and arms of Jesus was lined with a tiny bit of gold leaf, but enough for her to see it from clear across the room.

The sound of someone kicking the bag full of clothes caught her ear. She turned her head to see a slender young guy with long jet black curly hair stumbling forth. He caught himself and stood upright. He turned around to show her his raised dark eyebrows.

“Oh, god, pardon me,” he said to her in a broken voice.

“Oh, no, it's okay,” she assured him as she dragged it closer to her feet.

“I didn't see it, I swear,” he sputtered.

“It's okay, I promise,” she reassured him with a wave of her hand to him. She noticed his large liquid brown eyes, his straight pitch dark eyebrows, and his prominent nose with a gentle kink in the bridge. He was rather handsome with his slightly rounded face and his chubby little apple cheekbones. All chubby and round in the face, but his body was slim and lanky, even delicate. His hands were large, almost like paws, complete with slender trim fingers.

She looked down at his sinewy thighs, clothed in tight black jeans; she dropped her gaze down to his knees, his slender lower legs, and his feet, the latter of which were donned in black Chuck Taylors. He had on a little black leather jacket with the zipper tugged part of the way down his chest to show off his olive green shirt.

“It's okay,” she repeated to him again. “It's not like I have anything fragile inside of there.”

“I hope not,” he said in a soft voice; he had bit of a New York accent, but it was a bit more distorted in comparison to the Brooklyn one. It almost sounded like he was saying “naw” when he said “not”.

“I swear,” she insisted.

“You swear? Like... fucking hell? Like that kinda swear?”

She giggled at that, but it also made her squirm a little bit. This strange man must have noticed the nervous look on her face because he swallowed and scurried away from her. She watched him go down the corridor, all the way to the very end. He ducked inside the room there and closed the door, and all Sam could think about was what she did right then. It was awkward, for sure, but he got a laugh out of her. The way he moved stayed with her: he shuffled about the carpet and he swayed his hips from side to side with each step. Or perhaps it was just her imagination and her aloneness talking and she fixated on something that could give her some kind of great reward.

Emile emerged from the other side of the front room with something silvery in his hand.

“Samantha?”

She turned her head and he stood before her for a second to hand her the key.

“The key was hidin’ behind the remote control, if you can believe that. Anyways, I’ll talk more later, but right now, I haveta run. I’m positive you know where your place is.”

“Oh, yeah, yeah. Thank you, too.”

“Absolutely!” He brushed past her and doubled back towards the front door. Once he was outside, Sam turned her head so she could look down the hall again. That strange man hadn't surfaced out of the room there at the end.

She sighed through her nose, and picked up her things, and doubled back to the stairwell; she kept the key nestled in between her right index and middle fingers. The steps creaked underneath her, even though she wasn't very heavy. She reached the landing to catch her breath. She was on the third floor, which meant she had to take that next flight of stairs, complete with all those things weighing her down.

She fetched up another sigh and picked it all up again. She lugged it all upstairs to that second studio on the right side of the corridor there; she set her things down and let out a low whistle. Once her heartbeat calmed down, she slipped the key into the hole under the doorknob. The small click was the sweetest thing she needed to hear. She let the door swing open before her so she could pick up her things yet again; she lugged it all into the apartment, complete with her nearly stumbling on her shoelaces.

Sam caught herself and set everything down on the floor, right up against the wall. She sighed again and looked about the spacious front room; on the far side of the room was a doorway and a closet; in front of her was another doorway. She poked her head in through that one to find the tiny kitchen combined with a little nook which, she knew could be the dining room. She doubled back across the floor to check out the other room, which she knew was going to be her bedroom; right in front of her was the bathroom. The whole place had that new room smell, and she knew the place had been repainted.

“Perfect,” she muttered to herself. “Home sweet home.”

The first thing she needed was a bed, even if it was just a makeshift bed like a spare cushion, or a few spare ones. She picked up her hand bag, and doubled back to the front door, and locked the place up for the time being. Moved to a new place and had no bed to sleep on afterwards.

Sam descended the stairs, and spotted that strange dark man at the front door. He watched her walk closer to him; his brown eyes fixated on her even though she was walking at a normal pace.

“Hey,” he said to her in a low voice.

“Hi,” she greeted back to him as she held onto the strap of her purse.

“I'm still sorry about earlier,” he blurted out with a bow of his head; she glanced down at his feet, right as he cocked his left foot inward a bit.

“I assure you it's okay,” she assured him. “Really, it was just full of clothes.”

“Well, and that stupid joke I said to you, too—” He shrugged his shoulders a little bit. “—I felt like I made you uncomfortable.”

“No, no—you got a laugh out of me. I promise.”

“Yeah, yeah...” He shifted his weight at the sight of her.

“I have to get a bed,” she told him.

“D'you just move in?”

“Just moved in. On the third floor.”

“Ah, that's cool! I was just helping someone move, too. Right down the hall here.”

“That's cool,” she echoed him.

“Yeah, it's—it's really cool.” He swallowed and shifted his weight again. She dropped her gaze to his chest and his stomach.

“So, uh... you got anyone comin' to help ya?” he asked her.

“My parents are coming tomorrow, but—I don't have any place to sleep, though.”

“True, true...” He lifted his gaze past Sam's crown of dark hair to the hall behind her. “...oh, there's Frankie!” She turned around to see the tall lanky guy with long nappy black hair down past his shoulders and thick bangs to accentuate his olive shaped face. He approached the two of them with a smirk on his face and his hands clasped together.

“Hey, Joey—who's this young lady?”

“I just moved in,” she told him as her heart hammered inside of her chest. “I—I need a bed.” She ducked past the guy in front of her, Joey, and headed outside before Frank could say anything. She headed down the front steps back to the sidewalk.

Alone in the Bronx, a girl alone in the brand new big city, but she spotted a furniture shop up the street. She hoisted her hand bag again and walked at a brisk pace down the sidewalk. She reached the crosswalk, right when the light turned red so she could stop and think for a second.

Sam looked back to the apartment building, and she thought about those two guys. It was just an awkward encounter, it was nothing she could think about too much. Although Joey was kind enough towards her that she could perhaps nod it off as nothing more. She couldn't think too much about that other guy, Frank, given she only looked at him for five seconds. But then again, it had to be from the fact she was a girl from the West Coast having relocated in the Big Apple.

The light turned green and she pressed onward across the dark pavement, right across the street. Another crossing. Another round of green lights. She reached the furniture shop there and ducked into the side with the beds. If she could climb into one of them and sleep there, she would do that.

She thought about her parents, and she wondered if her mother would help her pick out everything. An artist and often times she questioned her ability to pick out things that looked good. Her wardrobe was drab with lots of black, and her hand bag was a nice shade of soft beige. She eyed a little twin bed, the surface of which rose up to her waist. She set one hand on the top and put her weight into it.

It was the first bed and yet she was already sold on it. She reached down to check the price. Perfect!

And now something to put on top of the bed. She wandered through the room in search of sheets and a blanket. The place was bigger on the inside, much to her surprise.

She turned a corner and spotted Joey and Frank checking out towels. She gasped at the sight of them. Frank turned to see her with a stunned look on his face. Joey was saying something all the while.

“So, you've got—” He stopped in his tracks and turned to follow Frank's gaze. “—hey.”

“Hi?” she greeted him, and she couldn't resist the smirk on her face.

“Didn't expect to see you here,” he confessed, and showed her a smirk in return: she noticed a little gap on the right side of his teeth.

“Um, me, neither.”

“Guess we were right behind you,” Frank told her with a nod of his head; his accent wasn't nearly as prominent as Joey's distorted one; she spotted a piece of gum tucked on one side of his teeth.

“Yeah, I guess so, too. Um—” Her mind went blank and Joey ran his fingers through the roots of his curls, right on the crown of his head. “I—needed a place for my head.”

“I do, too,” Frank added with a shrug of his shoulders.

“Do you—do you need any help?” Joey offered her.

“Well—like I said, my parents aren't going to be here 'til tomorrow, so... yeah. I could use a hand.”

“Why didn't they come with you?” Frank asked her.

“I needed to put up the money and boogie out here quick,” she explained.

“You're not from around here, are you?” he continued, and he knitted his eyebrows together.

“It's okay, I'm not, either,” Joey assured her.

“California,” she replied, and they both gaped at her.

“Wow, long way from home,” Frank remarked.

“I was born near the L.A. area, but I lived in Carson City for four years. It was just—time for me to leave and start a new chapter, though.” She turned her attention to Joey. “You're not from here, either?”

“Sorta,” he clarified. “I'm from upstate. Frankie—” He gestured towards him. “—is from here in the Bronx so—ya got any questions, ask him.”

“And—if I head out to upstate, I can refer back to you?” she asked him.

“Absolutely!”

“Oh, yeah, you do anything upstate, Joey's your man,” Frank explained. “What's your name, by the way?”

“Samantha. Sometimes I go by Sam, though.”

“Sam, and not 'Tha?” Joey cracked.

“'Hand this over to 'Tha',” Frank joined in with a smirk on his face; that coaxed a giggle out of her. And then Joey's expression turned serious.

“So seeing as you're alone, let me reiterate—do you need any help?” he offered her.

“Do you guys wanna—help me?” She was taken aback by it. “You know, I don't want to impose.”

“You're not imposin',” Frank assured her with a shake of his head and a tucking of a lock of black hair behind his ear. “We're both moving so—you and I need all the help we can get. That's why we were both shocked to find you were here by yourself.”

“Movin' sucks,” Joey added. “Especially when you're going cross country like that.”

“Yeah, Joey moved from Oswego—his hometown—to be closer to New York City last year, to this little town called Kingston.”

“It's right up the road from here,” Joey pointed out, “like about an hour north from here. It was either there or to Camillus, outside of Syracuse, and it was like—I gotta be closer, you know?”

“Oh, yeah, yeah...” Sam's voice trailed off as she wondered why he had to be closer to New York City from an even more mysterious place such as upstate New York.

“But even though it really wasn't that far, it was hard,” Joey continued, “I was beat once I got settled into my new place. Like really, I lay down to go to bed and I was asleep before my head even hit the pillow.”

“That is tired,” she agreed with him; and she folded her arms across her chest, “you know, come to think of it—one time, my dad was helping a friend of his move to a new house—not very far, either, like to the other side of town—and he was so tired by the end of it, he actually fell asleep standing up.”

“Oh, well, I got nuttin' on him then,” Joey teased her, and that brought a little smile out of her.

“Anyways, I found a little bed for myself—over there—” She pointed to the other side of the room. “—by the beds. A little twin. Now I just have to find sheets and blankets and a pillow—you know, all that crap.”

“Hey, me, too!” Frank's face lit up. “You wanna do that together?”

“Sure, why not? I'm not very good at picking out things like that, though.”

“I'm not, either,” he assured her. “But—let's see where it goes, though.”

Indeed, Frank and Joey led Sam into the upholstery section of the shop to help her out, and also for her to help the two of them out. She lingered behind them as she searched about the shelves for anything that caught her attention: she slipped past the two of them so as to reach the end of the aisle with the bedding and the bed sheets. She gathered herself when she spotted a set of blue satin and a comforter that looked as though it was made of velvet. She tucked it underneath her arm and then searched about the shelves for a pillow.

Frank and Joey's conversation behind her caught her ear but she was more focused on finding a soft pillow, a soft place for her head.

Frank burst out laughing at something, but Sam ran her hand over the surface of a plush bright pink pillow. Like petting a cat.

“Oh, girly!” Frank remarked; she turned her head to find him walking towards her. “That's so girlish, it's badass.”

“It's soft, too. Think I'll take this one...”

She scooped the pillow off of the rack and tucked it underneath her free arm. Both her arms quivered with soreness from carrying such heavy bags down the block to her new place, but she was more than willing to carry her new bedding back to the front.

“Hey, Sam I am—” Joey called after her. She turned to see him holding up a set of black sheets next to his head. “—what do you think about this?”

She ambled over to him to check them out for herself.

“Black Egyptian cotton,” Frank added.

“Ooh, lovely,” she remarked. She noticed a pair of furled throw blankets tucked under his arms, one under each arm. “What you got here?”

“A couple of blankets that, I'm not too sure how to pair them with these black sheets,” he explained. He held up the brown plaid one under his right arm, followed by a black and white one from under his left arm.

“The one in your left hand,” she quipped within a second.

“You like this one better?”

“Yeah, it looks like it fits the sheets better,” she remarked.

“Alright! This was easier than I thought.” Frank set the other blanket back onto the shelf.

Sam didn't hesitate to return to the front of the shop. She told the young clerk she had picked out the twin on the other side of the room and she wrote down the number on a pad of paper in front of her.

“She also needs it tonight,” Frank joined in.

“Okay! What's your address?” the clerk asked her.

“I'm right down the street,” Sam replied, “that apartment building after the stoplight.”

“Blackwood Villas,” Frank clarified.

“Apartment thirty two,” Sam added.

“Okay... I'll get a couple of guys down there in a bit,” she assured her with a final scribble on the paper.

Once they had paid for their new bedding, Frank and Sam stepped back outside. Joey followed suit with a towel tossed over his shoulders.

“I needed a new towel,” he explained.

“Frankie couldn't get towels, but you sure could, though,” Sam cracked.

“Exactly! That's what he and I were talking about earlier.”

The three of them walked together back to the crosswalk and then to the apartment building; Sam continued to linger behind the them, but she still stayed close with them given she was the newcomer. Frank ascended the steps first and held the front door for both her and Joey.

“Well, thank you to you both,” she said with a tremble to her voice.

“And thank you,” Joey told her as he adjusted the towel over his shoulders like he had been sweating out the whole day.

“By the way—if you want or need anything, I'm right down the hall here,” Frank told her.

“I'm sure I'm going to need you,” she pointed out. “'Cause—you know. Moving sucks.”

“Movin' sucks,” Joey echoed with a shrug of the shoulders.

“What're you gonna do?” she asked him.

“I think I'm gonna go get sump'n to eat,” he told her. “I'll see you tomorrow, Frankie.” He turned to her with a nonchalant look on his face. “And you have a good night, too.”

“You, too, Joey,” Sam replied, and that was when the two guys from the furniture shop arrived with her new bed. “I'll be sleeping comfy tonight!”

"Oh, and by the way, welcome to New York," Frank declared. "Enjoy your stay!"

"I think I will," she assured him.

[tweedheadsaustralia]

You’ll love IT!

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[fragilevixenfic]

She Walks at Night

Title: She Walks at Night

Rating: M

Category: RST, canon-divergent/AUish, a little bit of UST (leading to that RST), humor/Mini-casefile/Some smutty goodness

Summary: (Post Agua Mala) Mulder’s knack for getting himself and Scully into sticky situations leads them to the heart of NOLA at the tail end of Hurricane season after barely surviving a Floridian storm—to investigate a rumor of a notable Voodoo Queen and missing girls trying to bring her back.

“Voodoo girl, but she knows she has a curse on her, a curse she cannot win. For if someone gets too close to her, the pins stick further in.” –Tim Burton

“The moon has awoken, with the sleep of the sun, the light has been broken; the spell has begun.” -Midgard Morningstar

Note: Hurricane Mitch really didn’t flash toward the coast of Louisiana until it was a tropical depression, near the 4th of November. I’ve moved the date up and made it just a touch more intense than it actually was.

Bouzen = Bitch

@starbuck09256, I truly hope that you are ok with the stretch on your prompt. I wanted you to really adore this without going too far outside of your constructs or, worse, grossing you out.

AO3 Link: https://archiveofourown.org/collections/Spooky_2019/works/21118628

Tagging @monikafilefan @suitablyaggrieved @peacenik0 @rationalcashew @gaycrouton @xfilesfanficexchange @today-in-fic @piecesofscully @poolsidescientist @kyouryokusenshi for the fic lovers 

   The world is full of

Monsters with friendly faces

And angels with scars.

-Heather Brewer

 Thursday, October 29, 1998, 7:15 PM

St. Louis Cemetery No. 1

French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

                 It had been drizzling all night within the stained, cracked walls of a legacy that had stood the test of time in the French Quarter. The high tombs and altars curved, saturated, and marked by generations of memories down to the nearest doused candlestick. The wind howled through the trees and whipped the rain against marble, the thick tapping nearly drowning out the soft, scattered taps of footsteps as they weaved through the gravel and dirt. Three palm guarded candles under darkened hoods lit the faces of their individual holders—their features highlighted by red lips, white, black, and deep red dot and line pattern around the eyes and down their cheeks. They were spiritually awake, open…ready.

               “Did you bring it?” The tallest, in the center, with a thick, Haitian Creole accent kept her eyes forward, wincing as the wind nearly dragged her protective wear off of her head.

              To her left, the shortest, less inclined to listen and weaker of the two, nodded in spite of the lack of light around them, her voice bursting through like nails on a chalkboard. “You concentrate on not falling on your face, I’ll worry about the incantation, Madeleine.”

               “Bouzen,” Madeleine wanted to knock her over as the Creole slang slipped off her tongue, while they passed a line of high ossuaries with various angels and oddly shaped gargoyles.

               “I’ll do this without you both if you don’t stay quiet,” Their third, the quietest, with an equally thick Creole accent snapped her fingers and nearly blew out both of their candles, her deep, mahogany and green eyes burning as she stood in front of them. “We got work to do.”

               The hostile night sky was brewing another storm as a flash of lightning streaked across the rolling black clouds, momentarily illuminating the expanse of the multi-century old cemetery in a blanket of hot, blue and white light before returning to the dim. With All Hallows’ Eve just days away; the energy was already rising and the pathway was already well worn with white petals to that had been offered to their lady. It wasn’t simply to remember a fallen hero or heroine but to seek the favor of a Queen. Not just any Queen but the Voodoo Queen that lay beneath the stone and marble, with the etchings and typeface on the exterior wall of her sepulcher. Most would assume the gravesite was being defaced and degraded but every mark was left by those that came before—to ask for good fortune, be granted a wish, or favors of their lady.

               As they always say, however, every request comes with a sacrifice.

               “Marie Laveau, Voodoo Queen, Mother to two daughters of the same name, in this, your resting place, we bring you offerings of light,” Madeleine enunciated carefully as the three knelt at her marker, at her plain yet remarkable altar, guiding their candles against the side of the stone away from the pelting rain as the wind seemed to change in their favor.

               “Our priestess, we bring you wound tobacco, three gold coins, and the mark of Papa Legba wrapped in silk and lace to conjure your strength,” The second, Ayanna, gathered a small satchel, arranging it carefully in front of their candles, creating a little circular offering platform for their items.

               Finally, the third, Kya, pulled a needle from a cushion, jabbing her own finger as she stared at the plaque with the inscription about Marie’s legacy, her voice strong as she revealed her hair and face to the air. “I offer a sacrifice, mother of conjurers, daughter of spirits, to summon your form—to walk among us once more.”

               Each pinprick was marked with an X on the wall, in blood, to seal their gift to her, asking for only her presence, even in death. As if finalizing the request, the thunderclap reverberated above them and shook the hallowed ground beneath their feet. They knelt and tilted their candles with synchronized movements, spilling the black, melted wax across the stone in a singular circle while chanting ‘it is done’ to properly seal their unique, unusual even, plea to the revered Marie Laveau. It might’ve appeared as an oddity but this was a commonality as they stood and brought hands to the sky, drenching fingers in the falling rain as another streak of lightning danced across the sky.

               It illuminated the top of the fence—and the visage of shadows that couldn’t possibly have existed.

               “How do you know if it worked?” Kya held the front of her cloak shut, concealing the pretty dress beneath it as the rain took aim, soaking her braids.

               Madeleine turned toward her, sneering at her as though she could bear witness to the expression, but all Kya could see were the dots subtly moving as her face contorted. “The Voodoo Queen will make her presence known.”

               They didn’t wait to find out if their imperfect conjuring had made an impact as the wind bellowed through the willows, dragging the branches across angels with their heads bent in eternal devotion while they moved toward the front gate. Their diminishing silhouettes, in the gloomy maze of the dead, groped their way toward an exit; absent of steady light as the skies opened in another downpour. The wind ripped through the consecrated grounds and the rain battered the formerly white stone, embellishing each Mary’s tears until they were real. The lines of purple and pure, electric snow angled across the clouds, mimicking a Voodoo ritual dance, illuminating the tomb of Marie Laveau once more.

               As the light faded and the thunder rolled, the soft, halo lined contour of a woman in white manifested against the backdrop of the candles still burning at her feet. She stood, motionless; her hair wrapped high, eyes piercing in the gloom, hands folded carefully in front of her with a charm hanging freely between her palms. As quickly as she appeared, she vanished with the dampening of the thunderous booms overhead…leaving the three candles extinguished, their smoke hovering in the air in a circular motion toward the skies.

   Friday, October 30th 1998, 5:30 PM

New Orleans International Airport, Rental Parking

New Orleans, Louisiana

                 “I know you want to say it, Scully, and I think, if you want me to keep this Lumina on the road, you’d better choose your words wisely,” Mulder was already soaked from the walk to the car from the rental counter and the umbrella was inside out in the backseat, tossed haphazardly after catching a gust of wind from the wrong angle.

               Scully, hair already dampened from the precipitation, watched the wipers stutter and drag across the windshield, the squeak just loud enough to be evident as they did next to nothing to get rid of the collecting droplets. “I was only going to ask where we’re staying and if you know where we’re going?”

               “I don’t even need to turn my head to know you’re full of it,” Mulder was already miffed that he accidentally took the wrong road as he took the entrance onto interstate ten and merged, narrowly avoiding a big rig who didn’t want to give him space. “We’re staying down at one of the few places with a vacancy in the French Quarter that I could find with such short notice…that wasn’t crawling with college students looking to do kegs stands.”

               “What? Didn’t feel like living it up in the middle of an incoming hurricane?” Scully tilted her head toward him as the blackened skies swirled, pouring down around the cars and trucks on the highway while the headwinds gathered and rocked against the driver’s side. “We left one storm for another storm and Hurricane Mitch has already been doing damage all over Central America…why are we here, Mulder?”

               “A file came across my desk this morning with a newspaper clipping and a missing person’s report on a teenager from the French Quarter. Her parents are questioning the circumstances surrounding her disappearance, pushing for an investigation of an underground trafficking situation…but her connections in the community are a little more…odd,” Mulder hovered over the word ‘odd’ as he approached their exit, veering toward the right lane to merge.

               Scully had a look on her face as he explained the situation, her eyes rolling and lips parting as the air escaped in a puff that conveyed every bit of her mood. Mulder knew that expression all too well and felt the deep, slow blink that preceded her piercing stare through the side of his face as he swallowed hard, refusing to look. This is what he had meant about choosing words wisely—but he should’ve aimed the comment at himself rather than at his enigmatic partner in the passenger seat, who was close to informing him how ridiculous he was. Sometimes, one does not need to hear the words you’re a moron before getting to check into the motel and that was exactly where Mulder’s thoughts were residing as he came to a red light with his blinker on.

               “Define odd and try not to glitter it up with words you think I can’t understand because they are heavily rooted in something extraterrestrial,” Scully raised her eyebrows and nearly coaxed a nervous laugh from him, the old world hidden beneath palm trees and yellowing greenery.

               “Do you remember our brief stint at the INS processing compound in North Carolina?” Mulder was circling the reality of what resided in the newspaper clipping, in the information regarding the teenaged Haitian.

               “Haitian Voodoo?” Scully smirked and leaned her head back against the seat, reveling in his discomfort as she heard him grunt before fidgeting in the driver’s seat. “Did Skinner laugh at all when you brought this proposal to him or was he just that glad to get us out of his hair for another few days?”

               “I should’ve lied and said it was the Chupacabra, you’d be flicking me a lot less shit,” Mulder knew she was delighted and part of him was relieved that she wasn’t mad, which was shades different than the trip to Florida. “At least with the Chupacabra, I’d have a body for you to slice and dice.”

               “Aren’t you thoughtful?” Scully wasn’t upset with the locale this time as she marveled at the attention to detail on the historical buildings on the final few streets toward the hotel, her attention on the balconies as they dripped with water and barely sheltered the structures from the weather patterns. “You wouldn’t have been able to lie for long…not here…wrong state for that mythology.”

               Scully had only witnessed the spectacle of New Orleans through the scope of history, through books that her parents would never have approved of, and word of mouth via trips that others had taken over the years. As they drove, it was more than a little apparent that this was an entirely different situation from third party information as the sounds and sights were already saturated even in this weather. She wasn’t fully prepared to witness the elaborately painted faces, elaborate dresses, and costuming before the consumption of alcohol had really begun. It was hedonistic, it was traditional, it was mildly erotic and plastered just feet from their faces…a notion that had her rethinking the buttoned-up look she had put on this morning. It couldn’t have looked that bad, though, she had already caught Mulder staring twice since final call in DC.

               Not that she minded it—it was the instant need for him to look away that left a bitter sting she felt in her bones.

               “The young girl, named Kya, had been associating with a couple of girls who were dabbling in Haitian Voodoo for the last year or so to an end that they had been borrowing books on conjuring spells from local, known Voodoo associates,” Mulder leaned forward a little bit, squinting through the windshield at the street signs to navigate where they were, reticent to really delve into it before unloading the trunk. “Her friends aren’t talking.”

               “Refusing or are they afraid?” Scully was actually curious as she found herself fondly reminiscing about the ghostly little boy that had suckered Mulder into buying a charm from him. “You have me morbidly curious.”

               Her words were like foreplay as a chill went up his neck while he hesitated to divert his field of vision toward her for a moment, thoroughly intrigued at her level of interest in the unknown for a change. “Both…kept rising their protection emblems from around their necks that had been doused in soot. I don’t know the implications of such a maneuver but it can’t be good.”

               “Did anyone bother to ask where the ash came from?” Scully had been keeping her knowledge of the occult and Voodoo traditions close to the vest but flexed her intellect as Mulder pulled into a spot near a row of two-story buildings at the corner of Burgundy and St. Peter Streets. “Inn on St. Peter…Mulder, there’s no way this was approved by the Bureau to stay at.”

               “It was when I lied and said the only other place available was a hostel with a half roof and no windows in the middle of hurricane season,” Mulder flashed his teeth with a smile and turned off the ignition, the broken umbrella in his peripheral less than pleasing as he opted to skip even reaching for it. “I don’t think anyone bothered to ask about the type of ash on a bronzed pendant.”

               Scully joined Mulder on the sidewalk, the melancholic and oddly rhythmic melodies of a funeral procession blending with the celebration songs from both directions without concern for the weather’s plans. The daylight had barely begun to fade as they dragged a couple of suitcases into the Spanish influenced building constructed in the 1800s, the brick painted a deep burgundy, dripping rainwater across the textured tiles. Scully stayed near the doors as Mulder went to the check-in desk, her growing fascination with the surroundings only intensifying as she watched the funeral parade through the muddied glass of the only window that hadn’t been shuttered. It was haunting and poetic as men and women in a myriad of colors, black lace shrouding faces, danced along muddied sidewalks and alleys with their brass instruments and drums, scattering white petals in their wake.

               “Don’t be mad…” Mulder startled her out of the trance with a palm to the small of her back, his warm fingers radiating through her damp jacket.

               “What did you do this time?” Scully wanted to be surprised as she wiped the excess of water droplets off of her forearms, angling her head to judge him just a little better.

               “I, apparently, wasn’t listening all that well when I made the reservation,” Mulder was watching her use that unnerving smirk as he searched for the right words to explain his massive oversight. “The woman that I spoke with insisted that she told me it was for one room with two beds and I remember it as two rooms with a bed each.”

               “So, you get to explain that to Skinner when he asks for the printout on the second room, then?” Scully’s voice elevated as she reached for her luggage at her side then raised her eyebrows toward the hallway and stairs. “Lead the way.”

   9:45 PM

Between St. Louis Cemetery No. 1 and No. 2

French Quarter, New Orleans, LA

                 A puff of smoke and a flash of almost turquoise and orange flames danced in front of Mulder and Scully as they meandered through the amassed crowds that had already begun to block sections of the street, with or without permission. They felt underdressed or overdressed as casual clothes looked out of place in the sea of elaborate, well-thought-out attire to pay homage to the dead. The celebration, a cross between a masquerade and a Día de los Muertos festival, had the theme of death, resurrection, and Voodoo at its center, marked by the makeshift tents with markings that represented each sect. They had been tipped off to the location of their two witnesses and had been seeking out their wares for just over thirty minutes, all the while being approached by every creature with an offering.

               “You look like you are in need of a reading…and a charm,” A woman with her long, dark locks wrapped carefully atop her head in tight, desperately meticulous braids and satin strands with elaborate beadwork intermixed stepped directly in front of Scully, disregarding her personal space. “Come.”

               “Wait, what?” Scully was taken aback as the woman, clad in a deep purple and red French Pompadour dress already had her by the arm, tugging her toward the shadows of a small, hut style tent with a single side drawn open. “Ma’am…wait.”

                “It is tradition,” Her unassuming yet demanding, deeply Creole voice caught Scully off guard and before she could protest further, a generous yank of her wrist had her separated from Mulder before he could fully realize. “Now…you sit.”

               “This seems like something that is more my partner’s speed, maybe you should have him do this instead?” Scully made eye contact with him through the sliver of light at the doorway, the flashes of fire dancers illuminating him as he shrugged his shoulders and became engulfed in the crowd.

               “I don’t think you want your strictly platonic to know you don’t want to be strictly platonic,” The words slipped from the raven-haired Voodoo soothsayer like she knew Scully’s entire story in only a few glances, the power of which had her gasping for air.

               Scully spun around, disbelief in her voice as she hovered by the door, the wind dancing against the back of her neck as she narrowed her eyes at the trickster before her. “What did you just say?”

               “You’re a lot of things, Dana Katherine Scully, but naïve and stupid, you are not,” Each syllable was a torture device and yet, Scully didn’t want to look away as a perfect stranger proceeded to call her by her full name with no sense of irony. “Now sit.”

               “Now, how exactly would you know my full name?” Scully sank into the wicker, the cushion saving her backside from the bite as she fidgeted her fingers underneath of the tablecloth. “Do you have a name or do you prefer to just be nameless?”

               “I’m very good at what I do,” She reached across the small, rounded table, gesturing for Scully’s palm as she elevated her own in the middle, on a velvet doily with the burned ashes of an incense stick. “I am Ayida…given name was good enough for what chose me.”

               Scully reluctantly elevated her hand across the table, her palm facing up as Ayida winked at her and marked lines of perfumed, purple-tinted incense across her palm. “I could guess you’re a palm reader but something tells me you’re about to tell me that I’m wrong…”

               “The lines on our hands tell a story but they only tap the surface of a person’s story. Your name, divulged from your eyes, while your adoration of your partner out there…well, that came from your pulse point,” Ayida dabbled a little dot along the center of Scully’s middle finger and inhaled a deep breath, exhaling away her Cheshire cat grin. “You hide from your heart, Agent Scully…”

               Scully didn’t like personal information unfurled in this fashion as she uncomfortably chewed on the inside of her cheek and squinted at the lines on her hand. “You’re just making guesses. Anyone could make that leap.”

               Ayida took the comment as a challenge, blatantly calling out her craft as a candle flickered in the corner, the flame deepening in color, matching the hue of red in her dress for a moment as she burrowed her stare into Scully’s soul. “You’re here chasing a shadow when the one you should be looking for is your own. You’ve battled sickness with light at your side—but you keep turning away from crossing its path. You’re afraid that you’re not good enough.”                

               It was enough to rattle Scully, even if it sounded vague and indirect, as she swallowed hard and looked over her shoulder, praying silently that Mulder couldn’t hear any of this. It wasn’t that she wanted to hide from him or keep a part of herself locked away but that she didn’t want to be exposed with no hope of the hammer to fall in her favor. She could hear him in the distance in awkward conversation with a group of people amidst the music and mixture of chants, drumbeats, and melodies that she’d never heard before. Ayida wasn’t menacing, by any stretch, but there was a part of her hardened, damaged heart that was crying out to know more, to see exactly what she was seeing in spite of the repercussions.

               Morbid curiosity had always been a vice.

               “That isn’t the only thing that terrifies you,” Ayida finally dug deep enough that Scully’s actual worry manifested in a barely audible yelp as the candles flickered in unison, burning blue in a series of flickers she snapped her fingers in the air. “Someone very close to you, long ago, gave you a crystal once upon a time, didn’t she?”

               Scully ripped her hand free, eyes wide as she held the puff of air in her lungs, jolting backward while the tears formed along her waterline. “Wait, just a damn minute. That’s…that’s…”

               “Too close for comfort? Your sister believed in so much more than the spiritual,” Ayida was calm, almost too calm, as she gestured for Scully to move back to the table as she opened a small satchel of silver charms and a single length of matching chain. “That crystal represents healing, strength, and compassion in Voodoo rituals. I saw you from afar, wounds no longer healing, and knew you no longer keep visible to forget her memory.”

               “This is too much,” Scully managed to keep the lines of incense perfectly intact on her hand in spite of wringing her fingers to the point that they were hurting as she deepened the focus on her palm. “This is all too much.”

               Ayida held a section of her skirt away from the edge of the chair and carefully crossed her legs, returning the fabric to the floor as she was shocked to find Scully extending her hand across the doily, her free hand wiping errant tears. “Is there something that you want to know or are you simply challenging me to push further into your open wound? I am not into that kind of Voodoo…as much as you might disagree.”

               Scully had a picture in her mind that had been brewing for years, one that had taken shape from purely self-doubt to one of regret as she nodded slowly, her voice softer than intended. “The decision I made…to do…this with my life.”

               “Your line of heart, your line of life, and your line of head have points of intersection but the Girdle of Venus is light, yet fanned, you hide your sensitivity in spite of it being an ally. You hide that quality from everyone,” Ayida dragged the answer out as she dipped a feather into a container of palm oil then pulled it across the center of Scully’s palm. “Loneliness is consuming and you are in the dark with the key at the door.”

               “Hey…Scully…” Mulder was wide-eyed as he pushed through the canvas opening and nearly scared Scully right out of her skin, his ears catching half of Ayida’s last words as he went off a little half-cocked. “Am I…Interrupting?”

               Scully shook her head and saw that Ayida had cleared her hand of the marks, leaving only the residue of pleasantly scented palm oil along the bottom of her hand up to the tips of her fingers. “No, I think that about covers it?”

               Scully knew that she wasn’t obligated to pay but she slid at least twenty dollars across, covering it with the edge of the doily and stood, embarrassment written on her face as Ayida blocked her from leaving. Confusion would’ve been an easier emotion to experience for Mulder as he watched Scully blink twice as she was stuck in the crosshairs of the palm reader that had kept her from their investigation for well over twenty minutes. Mulder cleared his throat and was met with a soul-piercing fixated look from Ayida that had him swearing her eye color changed as though she were silently delivering a warning. He knew not to move—it was the kind of glare that mothers give when they are pushing that last nerve.

               “I do have one more thing,” Ayida gathered the chain and put it up and over the top of Scully’s head, letting the charms attached rattle against each other as they fell against her chest, “Wear these, for protection, for the answers you were seeking about the life you chose…and about the loneliness, if you hope to discover where you are meant to go, to do…if they come off, they must be hung near where you sleep…to remind you.”

               Scully was petrified over the notion of Ayida saying that out loud in front of Mulder, but she agreed with a quiet nod and sipped the charms underneath of the material of her shirt without fully looking at them. She didn’t necessarily want to linger too long over them knowing that she had seen them before—and knew exactly what they represented. Ayida watched, like a raven hiding in the trees, as Scully moved closer to Mulder’s arm, casually seeking refuge in his familiarity without it being painfully obvious to anyone but, perhaps, the clairvoyant in the corner. Mulder furrowed his brow and assisted her with the heavy canvas, letting her back onto the sidewalk where the chilly rainfall met the heat in Scully’s cheeks and only made them more apparent as she put distance between herself and that tent.

               “Scully?” Mulder barely touched the curve of her shoulder and felt her push into his palm as she tilted her head to meet his gaze.

               Scully pressed her lips together and glanced around at the growing sea of faces clad in various paints and glitters, some with elastic held masks, purposely shrouding their identities from one another, her eyes slowly wandering back to Mulder. “I’m okay, I’m okay…did you find the witnesses?”

               Mulder knew, beneath her shroud of grit and placating strength, that she was breaking but he held back and wiped the moisture from her face, not needing to know if they were tears or rain before pulling her hood onto the top of her head. “I did a little better than that…I found someone who knows where they went last night and is willing to get us there.”

               “Are we taking a walk in the dark, Mulder?” Scully was still shell shocked as the weighty presence against her skin, hidden by her shirt, as Mulder’s eyes were doing their best to slip under her skin, into her life force.

               “I promise there won’t be any broken bones…or accidents leading to either of our demises,” Mulder gestured toward an alleyway, a smile forming on his lips beneath wet, tousled hair while he tore his eyes away from hers to lead her toward their next destination.

               Scully followed Mulder in the direction of a split in the crowd, where the unlit corridor of the alley hinted at secrets, lies, and more questions than answers as Mulder’s guide waited, dressed in blue, umbrella above her head. As they came to the edge of the crowd, the rolling thunder emanated from the sky, shaking the foundations of the historical French Quarter. The vibrations didn’t phase the atmosphere of praising the ultimate passing of time and the afterlife as the flames danced through the zigzags of bodies in motion. The flames dotted into an arc and married with the jagged lines across the sky as the blues mixed with the reds, casting light over the crowd.

               It was then, at the center of the crowd, that the woman in white took shape, shrouded by a haze of blue smoke, smile perched on her lips, eyes glowing red as she shook her necklace full of charms around her neck. She kept her stare in the direction of Mulder and Scully before undulating like a walking serpent into the blackness.

   10:30 PM

St. Louis Cemetery No. 1

French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

                 “Daliah, how big is this cemetery?” Mulder was fascinated by the sprawl of the above-ground burials in spite of the decline in conditions, some parts worse than others as lack of upkeep was an ongoing problem.

               “A full city block, it isn’t even our largest of the historical sites,” Daliah had Voodoo protection charms around her neck, along with a few that Scully didn’t recognize, but lacked the face paint of a priestess of any sect, her accent native to Louisiana, leaning toward the French aspect as she carried both dialects in her twang. “We don’t have much further to go—the tombs are hard to navigate at night, even with a versed traveler.”

               “Thank you for doing this, even under the circumstances,” Scully kept her pocket light aimed at the ground as she matched pace just behind Daliah, the sounds of faint, distant murmurs just enough to keep her from feeling completely at ease.

               “Naïve little Voodoo girls come out to Marie Laveau’s resting place and expect to become equal to the High Priestess in one incantation,” Daliah ranted as they turned a corner, passing the angels bowed in devotion, and the offering of Mary, her voice shaking as the chill brushed past her lips. “Nothing good comes from playing with the dark arts when you are not ready to dabble.”

               “So it’s common?” Mulder nearly biffed it as he took a step over a white brick that had tumbled into the pathway, tripping across it and into his partner, who managed to hear him grunt prior to him vaulting forward. “Sorry, Scully…”

               “You’ve got two left feet, Mulder,” Scully had held onto him at the bend of his elbow and his ribs, instinctively, and for longer than necessary as he re-established his balance.

               “Common is a relative word,” Daliah turned her head to glance at the commotion and the display of affection that hadn’t meant to be caught as she cleared her throat. “A lot of novices, non-believers, believers, and highly skilled Voodoo priests and priestesses come to her for an ask—a wish. It’s not usually something massive, because, the bigger the payoff…the higher the price.”

               “An expensive quid pro quo,” Scully stopped in her tracks as the sound of branches snapping apart had the hairs standing on the back of her neck, the chills down her spine. “What was that?”

               “Try not to let the noises in here lure you in and unravel fear, Agent Scully,” Daliah kept her eyes forward, unbothered by the sounds that were mimicking footsteps from behind them, a concept that would have rattled anyone else. “There’s too much history within the gates to not have a few, lingering spirits that want to take advantage of the scent of fear.”

               “No one is going to be able to smell fear above the odor of garlic and spicy sausage on my breath and all over my clothes from dinner…woof,” Mulder cracked the joke, much to Scully’s chagrin, and pressed a hand to his chest as the stonework of Marie Laveau’s marked up vault came into view in the spot of Daliah’s flashlight. “Is that it?”

               “The very same,” Daliah crept closer, muttering a subtle blessing under her breath as she rubbed her protection emblem that rested in the center of her neckwear. “These candles were big before they expired, a circle of poured wax, and those large, centered X’s? Blood.”

               “I would assume that isn’t a good sign,” Scully knelt next to Daliah as she pulled a small satchel from her pocket, the contents of which were heavy in her hand. “What is that?”

              “Protection…” Daliah poured a swirling line of salt between them and the altar, keeping her hands away from the improperly conducted divination spell. “These girls didn’t know what they were doing and I fear that they’ve done something stupid without even realizing the gravity of it. I’m not going to pay the price for their improperly sealed conjure.”

              Daliah’s focus was fixed on the altar, the smeared and splattered droplets of red along the sides of each candle, wrapped delicately at the base with smudged, soaked hair around two of the three. Her eyes opened and the gasp left her lips like a wisp of a whistle as she considered not uttering a word of it to Mulder or Scully. It was not a good sign—and one looked significantly less bright with crimson than the other. They were already paying a price for their request. A soul…cannot rise without a considerable sacrifice.

              “That doesn’t exactly give me the warm-n-fuzzies about the chances of anyone finding the missing girl alive, Daliah,” Mulder could hear, and see, out of the corner of his eye, apparitions of silhouettes moving from grave to grave, ducking behind the high walls of the burial sites, a phenomenon that he believed in, but never truly experienced until now. “You’re right about this place…plays tricks on your vision.”

              “You’ll be lucky to find any of them when this case is said and done, Agent Mulder,” Daliah stood and turned away from Marie Laveau’s grave, tossing the last of the salt in the air as the precipitation began to come down a little harder to meet the power of the wind from the south. “Bodies and all…”

              “I know that the locale is perfect for a little cryptic delivery on the clues, but I don’t plan on being in a cemetery all night listening to riddles,” Scully felt her boots squishing in the developing mud beneath her feet as she shifted her weight and held onto her hood while the wind howled through the trees like a distant siren.

              Daliah didn’t want to be here anymore as she pushed past them, gripping the handle of the umbrella as she turned her flashlight toward them. “This was blood for blood. Two of the three candles are wrapped with hair. Once the third has the same ornamentation…Laveau will be intended to walk amongst the living until sunup on the 1st. They didn’t know that their sacrifice would be each other for a night of glory for the Voodoo Queen.”

               “They cannot just vanish into thin air,” Scully was elevating her voice as the lightning returned like a cipher in the air, barely making her move as she glanced to her left. “That doesn’t happen.”

              Scully moved the spot of her flashlight toward the side of Marie Laveau’s reliquary and caught a glimpse of the unreal in the form of hollowed wraiths of two young Haitian girls with vacant spaces where eyes should be. As quickly as the wights presented themselves, they were gone, leaving Scully to flick the light back and forth in hopes of finding them again. It made her stomach roll and the worst of it was that Mulder hadn’t been paying attention to her motions to realize that anything had happened. As she inhaled and exhaled slow, Daliah was looking at her with her eyebrows raised, fingers wrapped around the center of her necklace again.

              “You don’t know Voodoo, Agent Scully,” Daliah had power in her voice to warn them as she desperately gripped the umbrella to keep it from pulling free of her fingers, shaking her head defiantly. “Neither of you do…and if you stay here any longer? They’ll know who to come for before they finish it.”

   11:30 PM

Inn on St. Peter

French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

                 “Scully, you’re going to wear a hole in the floor if you don’t stop pacing—these rooms are old,” Mulder looked up from a reclined position in his tee-shirt and sweatpants, his toes wiggling freely while he flipped channels in their dimly lit room on the second floor.

               Scully’s dark blue, satin pajamas were swaying with every step and did little to hide what resided beneath them as they clung to each of the right spots without her even noticing. Mulder definitely did as he watched the angle of her backside until she buried it against her bed and let out a frustrated groan in the process. Scully was preoccupied and wasn’t the least bit concerned over the likelihood of Mulder staring at her in her pajamas…at least until she turned her head to see his head already angled in her direction. There was nothing more obvious of being caught than a sudden jerking motion of one’s head to look as though innocence were actually a possibility.

               With Mulder? It usually wasn’t.

               “You aren’t the least bit concerned about the chances of not finding your missing girl?” Scully yanked a pillow onto her lap and hugged it to her chest, the charms rattling against each other as she adjusted the fluff to her chin. “Especially after the speech that your little tour guide, Daliah, delivered out there next to Marie Laveau’s crypt?”

               “Two…” Mulder noticed her eyebrows going up as he came up to a seated position, tossing the remote down by his knees as he leaned against the head of the bed and felt her signature, irritated stare against his skin. “While you were showering…the local PD informed me that Ayanna, the second of the three girls, never came home tonight.”

               “You can’t be this calm about an investigation that unfolded in a matter of hours,” Scully could hear the wind whipping against the shutters behind her and the spray of rain that it brought, the air in the room thick with moisture. “I’ve never seen you this calm over an unknown escalation…it’s disconcerting.”

               Mulder had the remote in his hand again, his nose wrinkling as he kept his eyes looking straight on and exhaled slowly, loudly. “I’m not calm. I’m thinking and I have a lot whirling around about what happened out there—but you’re jumpy, moreso than ever. Do you…think you want to talk about it?”

               Scully had been dreading the inevitable as she felt herself reaching for the charms against her chest, almost willing the fortitude to process her own thoughts as she diverted her eyes to the floor. “That woman, the Voodoo palm reader, knew things that she shouldn’t have been able to know and I wasn’t really expecting it. I know that I shouldn’t even put a second of my time into extrapolating anything from any of it but…The experience made time stop. I haven’t been able to shake the feeling I had when I walked out of the tent.”

               “I don’t think there’s anything wrong with being affected by something so outside of your normal,” Mulder knew how tough it was to open up about being adversely influenced by an experience, especially when it concerned anything out of her comfort zone. “I was surprised that you stayed in there as long as you did—and I’m a little shocked she didn’t go straight for me.”

               “I think that’s why she went after me,” Scully thumbed the chain and made eye-contact with Mulder, searching his face for an affirmation to delve deeper. “She saw my fear written on my face and knew I’d be resistant to what she’d divulge. I don’t know how to feel about it except for exposed.”

               The lights flickered and the shutters shook against the windows, popping one of the mechanisms free that caused the door to the balcony to swing wildly with the gusts. Mulder scrambled for the shutter at the door, pulling it in until it snapped back into place and the lock flipped tight, the vibration of the wind rattling against his hand until he could close the door behind it. He had been exposed to the wind and ricochet of the downpour for only a moment, but it was enough to spray his face and soak the front of his shirt. Mulder turned around just as Scully had gotten to her feet, the pillow still in her hand as the room went completely dark, filling it with silence.

               “Power’s out,” Mulder broke the quiet with a quip and had Scully letting out an awkward, necessary laugh while he groped across the floor, toward her. “You think they equip these rooms with candles?”

               Scully turned on her flashlight and aimed at the nightstand, pulling the drawer open to find a stack of emergency candles to her surprise. “Ask and you shall receive…looks like someone had issues with the power here once before?”

               Mulder had them lit and arranged along the two nightstands, illuminating enough of the room to keep from tripping over everything, or each other. It was eerily quiet aside from the rumblings of the storm surge outside, enough so that they could hear the other guests shouting at each other for matches and candles. Everything unexpected had happened and left both of them retreating to the confines of their beds while the distant thunder started nearing their proximity. Scully was the first to get under the covers while Mulder was still meandering through the pile of crap on his bed including a bag of sunflower seeds he had been devouring. He pushed them onto the stool sitting at the end of the bed and slid between the sheets, the chill mixing with his body heat to the point that he had goosebumps almost immediately.

               “How long do you think they’ll be up yelling for candles?” Mulder was staring at the ceiling while Scully’s back was to him, widely gaped at the windows, tension through her.

               “I don’t know but if I hear gunshots, I’m not moving…” Scully looked over her shoulder at him, his cadaver-esque positioning making her wonder if he was just as uncomfortable as she was. “Mulder?”

               “Hmmm?” Mulder turned his head toward her, the subdued, delicately dancing light of the cast against her face as she rolled over completely.

               “You can say no if it’s just, out of the question,” Scully lifted her head and leaned against her palm, the charms falling away from her skin with a clang while she swallowed her pride, her fear. “Can I sleep with you?”

               “Get those things off your neck and bring another pillow, mine are flat,” Mulder was secretly losing his mind over the prospect of being inches from Scully, with no more than the thinnest, softest material keeping her skin away from a caress, but he kept his cool. “None of that, sticking your cold feet on my legs, either…I kick.”

               Scully carefully dangled the charms from the lampshade, looping the chain around the top until it swung carefully from the bottom, tossing the pillow onto Mulder’s face as she slid into the bed. “I’m cold from the neck down so watch yourself.”

               “Jesus, fucking, Christ,” Mulder let out a laugh as Scully’s fingers and toes simultaneously touched the side of his arm and halfway down his leg, sending a chill through the material of his sweats in the process as he pushed the pillow under her head instead. “You weren’t lying about being fucking cold…scoot that way, you’re just plain mean trying to steal my body heat!”

               “Come back, you’re warmer than I expected,” Scully tugged at the bottom of his shirt and found bare, surprisingly hot skin along his abdomen, while he tried to maneuver away from her, half flailing his right arm until he was almost to the edge of the bed. “You’re going to fall off the bed and all I’m going to do is laugh…now stop, you’re making it colder.”

               Mulder rolled onto his side and gave the blankets a yank to his shoulder, enveloping them both as he found himself rubbing her arm over the top of the satin pajamas, fixating on the charms as they swayed above the lit candles. He hadn’t had a chance to really look at them since Ayida had put them on her but he was seeing them clearly now, glowing in the light of the emergency candles below. Mulder squinted—protection, love, and incite lust—that last one had him inhaling a breath as though it had been revoked from him, weakly contemplating the reasoning for them. Voodoo was more than superstition; it was a way of life for so many and Scully was already following the instructions of a woman who had, admittedly, frightened her.

               “Scully…why did that palmist mention something to you specifically about choices and loneliness?” Mulder had his chin close to her forehead, his hands pulling her closer to give her as much of his heat as she needed, comfortably cradling one arm underneath of her upper body. “Do you have regrets or are you questioning life?”

               Scully thought back to the prophetic words from Ayida about guarding her emotions from the man that she was now intertwining limbs with, close enough to feel his heart beating against her own. She replayed the actuality of just how badly it hurt to be this close to him with no real hope still burning in her eyes. She had been running from her heart, from the possibilities that taking a chance might possess, even as they presented themselves with clear opportunity. It was never that simple—at least it never seemed that simple. Even as she felt the warmth of his hands against her back, her arms, her shoulders, something felt complicated and tentative from within her soul that she never placed until now. She never felt like she was quite enough for more.

               “I don’t know if me saying it out loud will really change things,” Scully marked circles with her index along his shoulder-blade through the material of his shirt, looking up at him as though something might flicker back. “Even if I did…would it matter?”

               “Anything you say to me, matters,” Mulder’s voice unexpectedly dropped an octave, teetering somewhere between affection and desire, capturing Scully’s attention as she angled her head back to really look at him.

               “Ayida, the palm reader, managed to expose something about me that I was not ready to face,” Scully couldn’t fully concentrate with Mulder’s leg wrapped around her own but she held on, breathed through it, and looked into his pools of green and brown with flecks of deep gold in the center, his lashes fanning with every blink. “I don’t regret the life I chose…but the things I keep doing are the makings of an awfully lonely life. I’ve shut you out of so much and kept you away because I didn’t think you’d want to hear it, or be there—"

               Mulder cut her off with an unparalleled gesture, masterfully capturing surprise and elation with the unexpected, the necessary, the singular unfolding of years of holding back. It was as though Mulder had been tacitly conceptualizing this moment for years as the hand once residing against her arm slipped to the curve of her jaw where it met cheek, stroking that place as his mouth came alive. Scully held on, lips parting to let him in and hands feverishly groping along the back of his neck, awakening the part of her guarded heart that had been crying out his name for far too long. It went beyond a twinge as the swaying of the flames mimicked their every move, reaching in the dark as Mulder rolled and encouraged her thighs around his own, wheedling a breathy moan that reverberated against his tongue.

               “Mulderrrr…” Scully couldn’t help it as her head tilted back and left his lips along the curve of her neck, lavishing her with kisses while a not-so-subtle erection pressed against her inner thighs.

               “I can stop if it’s too much,” Mulder could hear it in her voice as the sound of his name went ragged from her lips, the resonation of which had his head swimming as he met her waiting gaze.

               “No, don’t stop,” Scully shook her head and dragged her fingers down his back until they found skin, tugging at his shirt while she fumbled with her words, agonizing over the way she must’ve sounded. “I have wanted this for so long.”

               “It wouldn’t have taken walking in on a palm reader for me to want to know if you ever wanted the same things that I did, Scully,” Mulder put his weight against the flex of his arm and elbow, dotting his lips along her collarbone while painstakingly unbuttoning each pearl finished dot from the bottom up, his eyes trained on hers. “The day you walked into the basement office…I wondered how you would feel, how you would sound in so much more than conversation, and how your mouth might taste. I couldn’t keep it out of my head on the flight to Oregon, then you went and dropped that robe in front of me? I tried not to think about it but what would you have said?”

               “Oh, God,” Scully bit down on her lip, the muted glow against his bedroom eyes as he found that top button and nearly disconnected it from the threads as well as the loop, his thumbs just barely between the gap in the material. “Say it…please, say it…”

               “I want you,” Mulder gradually exposed porcelain skin to the air and dragged his fingers along the space between her breasts until he could see the gooseflesh appear across every inch of unveiled Scully. “Jesus…Christ…you’re fucking beautiful.”

               Scully would’ve inspired a full prayer from Mulder as the meticulous, pale form beneath him was more than he expected, more than he could’ve hoped for. She licked her lips instinctively and guided his tee-shirt up and over his head, taking the time to admire every mark across his chest as she discarded it on the floor. Mulder brought her to his mouth, his arm guiding her torso up to guide the satin sleeves off and away from her, tossing it into the general direction of his shirt. Mulder allowed her back to find the pillows all over again as his hands grazed across delicately raised and hardened flesh, earning a low, stuttered moan from Scully as she arched against his hands, the shockwave of electricity flowing straight to her core. Scully dug her fingers into Mulder’s shoulders and met a look drenched in pure, raw sexuality as he lowered his lips anent her breasts.

               “Yes, yes, yes, keep going,” Scully enjoyed the gradual building of every one of her senses but wanted to urge him on, as she felt his index fingers barely pulling at the waistband of her bottoms, thrilling her with the agony of taking his time.

               Mulder guided her out of her bottoms, leaving her in a pair panties that seemed to match the texture of her pajamas, much to his surprise. “Eager, Scully? I would’ve thought that I’d be the one to express that…given the confession I just made.”

               “Eager doesn’t go far enough,” Scully’s voice shook as she guided his hand to the space between them, pressing against the thin, diaphanous material of her panties until he could feel the heat and wetness seeping through. “That happened the second you slipped your tongue in my mouth…I can’t wait any longer.”

               Mulder wanted to tease her a little more but his own, growing problem was pushing against her, throbbing against the spot just below his hand as he dragged his thumb across the silky material until Scully was undulating up to him. Scully had been concerned with being seen as fragile or breakable but as Mulder’s thumb strummed her like an instrument, she nearly sailed over the edge. Mulder dragged his fingers only once more, this time to free her of the confines of her panties, leaving her naked beneath him. Scully had her lip between her teeth as she gazed up at him, giving him the lightest of tugs to bring him back to her lips, back to the place that had started it all. There was a secret yearning to take his time but the woman already halfway to spilling over had his thoughts jumbled, knowing that they’d already taken their time to get to this point.

               They had both supposed it was years of foreplay, in the oddest way deemed possible.

               “Fuck,” Mulder’s mouth popped free as he felt his erection slip free, only to realize that it was Scully that had brought that action into motion as her perfect, graceful fingers gripped him just enough to make his eyes roll back. “Scullyyy…holy shit!”

               Mulder inhaled sharp and connected that gaze with hers, as the distant thunder finally arrived and rolled overhead. He lingered for only a moment, caressing her thigh as her free hand glided along his midback, memorizing the details of his body in the same fashion that he had already been doing with hers. They fit together, like perfect puzzle pieces, and Mulder was careful with his first thrust as the mattress sighed beneath them and the lightning flooded through the gaps in the shutters. Rhythm slowed and hastened as their passion set the bed ablaze while the candles continued to flicker in the dark, wind whistling through the cracks in the windows and doors. They didn’t care if anyone could hear them as the moans became frantic, stuttered, and mixed with the thudding of the headboard against the wall. It was long overdue as their heartbeats met and synchronized.

              He couldn’t have been more in love and she had finally given him all of her heart—as the storm raged on outside.

   Saturday, October 31st 1998, 5:30 AM

Inn on St. Peter

French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

                 They had only slept for a few hours, through the heart of the storm, and woke to the sound of the phone ringing on the nightstand between the beds. It would’ve been easier to ignore it as Mulder felt the warm, barely stirring Scully still cuddled against his chest, her arm draped up to his neck but the lull in sound only meant that the person on the other end was simply calling back after no response. Mulder groaned and smirked at the half-awake, disheveled Scully as she tilted her chin up at him, mouthing “what the fuck” as the jarring sound echoed in their room. They’d both had enough of it as Mulder rolled halfway out of the blankets to get it, glancing at the mess of nightclothes on the floor in the process.

               “Mulder?” He couldn’t shake the sound of agonizing sleeplessness from his voice as he looked over at Scully with the sheets across the center of her back. “Well, that happens when you call at 5:30…Okay, you’re going to have to repeat that for me, Sergeant…two of the three girls are confirmed missing, the third hasn’t been seen since late last night?”

               “What?” Scully kept her voice low as she sat up, wrapping the sheets around her in the process, her hair a wreck as she ran her fingers through it.

               “It’s Halloween…you’re going to have strange shit all over the place,” Mulder paused, his face turning white as he rubbed the sleep from his eyes, frustrated that he couldn’t enjoy the memory of last night for a little longer. “Okay…We’ll investigate from our end…you get people out there looking for possible bodies, as much as I don’t want to go there, these families deserve to know what happened to their daughters…Bye.”

               Mulder placed the phone back on the receiver, his eyes on Scully as she reached for his hand. “What’s going on?”      

               “You know how Daliah mentioned last night that the three girls made a blood deal when they went to Marie Laveau’s burial site?” Mulder reached for a pair of boxer-briefs from the pile of clothes, the frustration climbing in his voice. “Officers went out there this morning after someone reported hearing screams coming from the cemetery—when they arrived, they found a jar.”

               “Mulder?” Scully didn’t like where this was going as he turned, his face less than pleased with the situation.

               “The jar was filled with embalming fluid,” Mulder’s tone was somber, sober even, as he rubbed his eyes again, index lingering along the bridge of his nose. “…and six eyeballs.”

    Saturday, October 31st 1998, 8:30 PM

St. Louis Cemetery No. 1

French Quarter, New Orleans, Louisiana

                 The task force had been working busily through the day, in spite of the weather destroying nearly all particulates and evidence that could’ve been used to find who could’ve orchestrated this morbid experiment. Mulder and Scully had been overworked throughout the day, interviewing every person that saw Ayanna, Kya, and Madeleine since before their experiment in the cemetery. It was another dead end—stories full of holes, people that had sworn they’d seen each of them, at the same time of the day, in opposite places, which had given the agents little hope in finding the three teens alive. The investigation, in all of its yellow, Do Not Cross tape, had only confirmed one thing; that the eyes they had found matched their young, missing Voodoo conjurers.

               “Mulder, this is a literal dead end,” Scully could see him squinting into the dark as the sounds of celebrations began to interrupt their work, the drumbeats and chanting had begun to flood along the outside walls. “We’re not going to find anything here…not in this weather, not in the dark, not with this going on in the background.”

               “We found parts of them, like breadcrumbs in the most macabre way possible,” Mulder moved closer to her, into her personal bubble, his hand on the small of her back as though he were protecting her from the wind. “They were out here and someone is doing this…”

               The reverberating chants were barely discernible above the thuds of drums and wailing of trumpets as the flashing red and blue lights of local PD seemed to add to the hovering from mystics. The shadows were now blending with the fog, the air thick with moisture as the lingering storm continued to bring the wind, rain, and an intermittent thunder. Lightning blitzed across the sky and had the Agents looking up instead of down, taken aback at how intense the colors were as they skidded across the sky, leaving behind a fraction of a second long halo before the thunder cracked all the way to the ground. Neither of them would have ever noticed the woman, with her hair wrapped tightly, eyes glowing red, floating in the background in the midst of the flashing lights, her silhouette barely visible as her smile appeared and faded before she disappeared into the shadows.

              An officer shouting “we got something!” from the corner had Mulder and Scully jogging to meet them, to discover what could only be described as another piece of the morbid puzzle. Mulder’s stomach spun and Scully heaved a heavy sigh as their confirmations of dread had been met—finalized by the spilling of too much blood. Mulder didn’t want to admit that he knew what it was, even as he stood, in disbelief, of the carnage that someone had inflicted on three, unlucky teenaged girls. It was too much for them to contemplate alone—it was exactly as Daliah had foretold.

               “What in the fuck?” Mulder looked at the tangled mess spilled along the dulled white surface of the walkways, just feet from Marie Laveau’s tomb.

               “Entrails,” Scully winced and felt the blast of cold air to the back of her neck as instructed officers clad in protective gear before turning her head away from the grisly scene. “I need someone to make sure that we identify if it belongs to one…or all of them. Start searching the surrounding area for the bodies.”

               It must have been poetic justice, by design, that Mulder had missed this moment for a second time, as Scully witnessed the misty apparitions of the three teenagers just behind two angels in prayer. She blinked and the clear as day manifestation was gone, leaving her to simply grip the chain around her neck, reminding her of the gift she had been given and what it meant. Mulder squeezed her hand, pulling her focus, and nodded symbolically at her, as though her expression said what had happened, without saying anything at all.

[sitiaisyahwrites]

Point Danger & Movie World

Getting off of the plane when we landed at Gold Coast Airport was a very visceral experience. There was just something about the air that even your body could feel that you were in a whole different place Gone was the hot and humid tropical weather that was the norm in South East Asian countries, and in its place was the searing hot and relatively dry weather that was commonly associated with Australia. When we arrived, the sun was scorching hot, the temperature around 27 degrees Celsius.

After landing, we were picked up by our local Australian hosts and were given the keys to our rental cars. The first place we headed to was Point Danger in Coolangatta, a scenic lookout point on a large hill overlooking the sea for a quick picnic slash early dinner. The view from the top of the hill was breathtaking, with its large expense of rolling hills covered in paradise-green grass facing the alpine-blue sea with its walloping waves crashing onto the sands of Duranbah Beach.

The winds on Point Danger were cool and pleasant yet strong, to the point where we needed to hold down our hijabs to stop them from continuously flying in the wind. The temperature was much colder up on the Point and despite the sun shining directly overhead, my family still had to bundle up in jackets to stave off the chill.

Standing proud on the top Point Danger stood the Point Danger lighthouse with it’s tall, modernistic white walls, also doubling as the Captain Cook Memorial. The lighthouse is used to indicate the border between the states of New South Wales and Queensland, that has two different time zones. Dozens of tourist line up to stand between the line indicating the borders and taking pictures in the almost sci-fi-like area where you get to literally travel between the future and the past with a simple small step and to be in two places at once at the same time.

The next day, we all journeyed to Warner Bros. Movie World, one of the many theme parks that can be found in the Gold Coast area, though this specific park was located in Oxenford region. The theme park featured some of Warner Bros. most popular movie properties such as DC Comics themed park rides and rollercoasters, Charlie and the Chocolate Factory themed candy shop and Harry Potter themed merchandise stores.

We arrived relatively early, intending to beat the crowds but the lines of people queuing and waiting for the park to open were already insanely long. When we finally stepped through the gates of the theme park, we were struck in awe at how large the park really was, as it stretched as far as the eye could see with the tall and scary-looking theme park rides with varying themes and structures drawing the most attention.

We first headed towards the Main Street area that was shaded by expansive white domed roofs that was closest to the entrance of the park. The street was surrounded by various movie-themed restaurants, cartoon-themed buildings and concession stands, several popular chain stores such as Ben & Jerry’s and the most impressive of them all was the theatre with its bright neon signs and lightbulbs, reminiscent to what a movie theatre would look like back in the 1960s.

We visited a lot of the park’s attractions, taking turns to go on exhilarating roller coasters and other rides – though it had to be noted that most of the attractions seemed to be DC Comics themed. Certain examples of the rides include One of the most notable rides include the Arkham Asylum roller coaster, designed to look like a shabby, vandalized mental asylum as it was portrayed in the comics. The ride was also quite frightening, as the tracks were designed to look very lopsided and poorly constructed to fit the theme of the ride, which instilled even more fear into the riders.

Movie World also has a lot of photo spots with statues of popular characters and aesthetic photo spaces sprinkled all over the park for those interested in getting Instagram-worthy pics to post on social media later. Though, you have to pay at certain popular photo spots such as in front of a statue of Batman in front of the Batmobile, the average costs being 10 AUD for a phone picture and 30 AUD for professional prints by a nearby photographer.

One of the theme park’s biggest highlights was the big parade held at Main Street during the afternoon. Park employees dressed as characters from different Warner Bros. properties flooded the Main Street in floats and on foot, interacting with the children and taking multiple pictures with the park goers. Fan favourite characters such as Batman and Justice League as well as the Joker and Harley Quinn had dozens queueing to take pictures with them, though we avoided the ones that required is to pay because 30 AUD is far too expensive for just a simple photograph, especially for a Malaysian tourist.

Because of the lack of affordable halal food options at the park, we decided to pack our own lunch cooked of noodles and fried chicken that we cooked at the homestay we were staying in University Village. There are prayer rooms provided in the park that make it easier for Muslim travellers to perform their prayer. We also decided to treat ourselves with a scoop of Rocky Road’s ice cream from the Ben & Jerry’s ice cream shop that was also previously halal certified as well.

[baxtonme]

Discounted Car Hire Rental at Gold Coast Airport Coolangatta ensures Cheap Holiday Flights

Gold Coast Car Rental CEO: Rise in Business Visitors Boosts Economy

While there’s been a lot of media buzz about the soaring number of tourists thronging to the Gold Coast in the past couple of years, it’s not just holidaying tourists behind the massive increase in visitor numbers. The number of business visitors who are making regular calls to the Australis’s Sunshine Coast has been taking off on a similar trajectory, and that’s great news for the Gold Coast economy, and especially for service providers such as Gold Coast Family Car Rentals, according to CEO Darryl Essington-Wilson.

Darryl, who founded his car rental in 2001 after many years in the city’s business sector as an accounting executive and business consultant, sees nothing but benefits for the city in the current rise in visitor numbers, and the fact that business tourists form a big part of them.

One in 10 Visit Gold Coast on Business

Visitors to the Gold Coast totalled about 11 million last year, and their financial contribution to the local economy topped AUD5 billion. Seeing this economic injection into the city he has served and called his home for so long, is like music to the ears of this veteran Gold City entrepreneur. He believes the growth in the number of business visitors indicates that the city’s business sector is clearly vibrant, which in turn points to a rise in business in general, but particularly for those like car rentals which are  involved in the service sector.

According to the 2017-2018 statistics released in March this year, close on 40% of those 11million visitors overnighted in the city, and nearly 400,000 of those were international and domestic visitors who did so for business reasons. And a further 627 000  made day trips to the city for business reasons, bringing the total number of business visitors to over 1million or just under 10% of the total number of visitors to Gold Coast City.

Land, Rent and Ride

Darryl, who hasn’t forgotten his past career as a business consultant, is very quick to point out that the potential for growth in this business boom does not come for nothing. He said it is up to business owners in sectors servicing and supplying these visiting businessmen, and the businesses and developments they come to visit or create, to see the potential benefits the current boom could hold for them, should they take the steps and make any necessary changes.

Gold Coast Family Car Rental has a free pickup and drop service at Gold Coast Airport specially targeted at making car rental easier for those who fly-in and fly-out to attend important meetings, conferences and expos in the city, as well as those who visit clients, or keep an eye on one or more of the development projects in Gold Coast city during this business boom.

For those intrastate and international visitors who fly in with tight deadlines and even tighter time constraints, convenience is a priority when it comes to arranging transport.  Gold Coast Family Car Rentals can be booked online with Gold Coast Airport Car Rental, or by calling + 61 7 5508 3333.

Discounted Car Hire Rental at Gold Coast Airport Coolangatta ensures Cheap Holiday Flights was originally published on Baxton