#chatzy: ariadne

[honeysmokedham]

TIMING: May 4th, 2023 at Midnight LOCATION: At a random mansion PARTIES:  Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock & Nora @honeysmokedham  SUMMARY: Ariadne and Nora broke into the same house. they celebrate with that promised picnic. CONTENT WARNINGS: None

Nora wasn’t nervous. Anxieties and nervousness were just tiny little fears that crawled their way through people's skin, biting at their insides and sending shivers down their spine. Nora didn’t have fears. The only time fear entered her was during the consumption of others. And when she��d first realized she was a terrifying monster that had nothing in common with the humans around her. She didn’t think about the exception to the rule if she could help it. Today, Nora felt something akin to worry. Was worry a type of fear? Nora didn’t think so, but right now Nora was worried she didn’t have any of the things needed for an impressive picnic and to make a good impression. Why did she even care if she made a good impression? That emotion tickling the back of her mind bothered her. Not enough to sit with her emotions and understand them. Instead, she shoved it deep inside the box of things she refused to dwell on and moved on. 

Nora’s fathers had once given her a list of three hundred and sixty-eight rules for making the perfect first impression. Nora couldn’t remember most of them, but three did stick out to her. Clean clothes, expensive food, and perfect hygiene. Nora had… none of those. The last time Nora had access to a washing machine was months ago. She’d taken a shower at that stranger's house, but with the amount of time, she spent traversing around the forest… And lastly, she had no food. That was worrying because how was she going to throw a picnic without something to pic on? That wasn’t very nic of her. The solution was easy. Breaking and entering. 

Breaking and entering seemed to be Nora’s solution to everything these days. Today she was going back to a house she’d been to twice before. Their kitchen was the size of a single-bedroom apartment, and if they had ever noticed anything missing from their stores of food, they hadn’t lifted a finger to upgrade the security system. Nora had waited until she was sure the owners of the home were in bed, before making her way in through the doggy door. It took her fifteen minutes to find a picnic basket and fill it with anything she could find from the kitchen that she thought Ariadne might like, as well as ham and honey. 

Once everything was packed, Nora placed the basket out the door for a quick getaway. She couldn’t leave just yet, there was one more thing she needed to do. Obtain clean clothing. Nora slunk down the halls of the house and into the first bedroom, she could find. Despite the dark, the moon shining in through the windows allowed enough light to see through. Which is why she could easily see someone standing over the figures asleep in bed. Nora blinked. Once. Twice. She was trying to make sense of the sight she was seeing in front of her. “Bonita Femur?” Nora asked in a whisper, it had dawned on her she recognized the person standing there. “You live here?” 

Someone who she’d never actually met wanted to hang out with her. Wanted to have a picnic, no less. Ariadne wasn’t entirely sure what to make of that. She’d never been surrounded by dozens of friends, but in the past year she’d drawn herself away, more. Wasn’t sure if she deserved friends. Was too worried about doing something wrong or hurting one of them. So to have someone who she’d only talked to once actually want to get together made her feel incredibly light and full of joy. At least as much as she could be, right now.

Except that as nice as a picnic was going to be, the picnic wasn’t going to fully satisfy her hunger. No matter how many sweets she brought along. So she had to feed. The house she’d chosen was huge - not that Ariadne strictly believed in feeding on those who had everything, but she had to admit that it made her feel a little less horrible than when she had to sneak into dorms or other places with people who seemed like the giving sort, rather than the taking sort. These people seemed like the taking sort. They also had a dog, which she’d found out a bit too late but luckily it wasn’t a very loud one, and closing it into the bathroom with an ‘I’m so sorry’ had worked well enough. She’d given it a few treats, too, trying to let that at least somewhat assuage her guilt.

Then she’d gone into the main bedroom, where both people were sleeping, thankfully (she didn’t exactly want to deal with one of them walking in on her). At least the moon was beautiful tonight. Which it usually was, and as much as Ariadne loathed what it was that made her need to be awake at night, the moon and stars were still beautiful. 

What she hadn’t counted on, however, was someone else being awake in the house. Her eyes grew wide, “I - hello?” She scrunched up her nose, hand jerking back quickly from the man’s head. “I - no. I was,” she winced, “visiting. Well, no - I - wait, do you live here?” Ariadne pressed her hands against the sides of her thighs. “It - nice to meet you in person.” She bit her lip. “Though I kind of figured the picnic would be the first time, but…”

Nora wasn’t unused to people discovering her in places she shouldn’t be. It seemed like every day someone was shooing Nora off their property. Every now and then they would even yell about youths these days while raising their old people canes. It was very unoften that Nora broke into a house and found someone she knew, at least online by photos, and wasn’t screaming at her to get out. Visiting? With a wince? And if she was visiting wouldn’t she know who lived there? A smile tugged across Nora’s face. Never before had she broken into a house someone else was breaking into. “You’re breaking in.” If Nora was prone to laughter she might have burst out laughing. 

Was it weird that Ariadne was standing over two sleeping figures? A little, but Nora wasn’t going to judge. Nora’s eyes flickered between the two sleeping forms and Ariadne. She did a quick shoulder movement to suggest they should probably move their little conversation to a different location. Before leaving, Nora peaked into the closet. It was slim pickin’s but a black shirt and a pair of black jeans found their way out of their spot and into Nora’s arms. Once safely away from the sleeping homeowners, Nora lead them to the door which held their picnic basket. Knowing that Ariadne was also breaking and entering made admitting that she was gathering supplies for their picnic easy.

“How long have you been breaking into homes?” Nora asked, setting the clothes on top of the picnic basket. She turned to face Ariadne with questioning eyes. Nora had known that people break into homes. She did it, it was in the news. People had gone to jail for it. She’d just never met anyone else who was deep in the practice like her. “What were you after?” Nora noted she didn’t have anything on her. Maybe Ariadne went for the jewelry. Pawning it for money was supposed to be lucrative. For some reason, Nora had never gone that route. "They really don't notice anything if there have been two people taking from here." Nora wondered if anyone was stealing from her fathers' mansion in L.A. Perhaps it was a rich thing to be so comfortable in your large house to never notice people taking from it. 

“I -” her voice caught in her throat. “No. Well, maybe?” She was still taken aback by the whole running-into-someone thing. Ariadne was fairly positive that something like this had never happened to her before. The only other time someone had been in a house with her in the nighttime was shortly after she became a mare, because the one who’d turned her hadn’t wanted her to flail around, entirely uncertain of what to do.

She wasn’t supposed to run into issues like this. Though, granted, Ariadne was all too well-aware of the fact that she’d already done things that weren’t supposed to happen. However, she followed the other figure, somewhat too stunned to do anything else. 

Once they were away from the bedroom, she tried to make herself relax just slightly. She wasn’t sure how much it entirely worked, but there was something about her friend (they’d said that they were friends, after all) that made her feel at least somewhat more relaxed. “I - less than a year, I guess.” Ariadne bit her lip. “I - uh - it was just to visit.” She winced at the lie. “I mean, sometimes I drink some water but I -” she squeezed her eyes shut. “How about you? Also, I promise I won’t tell anybody. The police are pretty overrated anyhow, so…”

Ariadne seemed to stumble through her explanation. Perhaps it was her first time getting caught where she shouldn't be. Nora was often caught where she shouldn't be. In school, she made a point of going where no one wanted her. Her friend had the bright sunny look of the golden children from school. The ones who were always smiling, laughing and never getting in trouble. Nora had seen the sunshine children break the rules before. Punishment never followed their indiscretions. Teachers liked to believe their sunshine children were always good, and if they did slip up, they were still good kids. They had just been lost in the wiles of youth. But here was the sunshine, Bonita Femur, breaking and entering just like the demon child herself. 

Nora’s head tilted to the side as she parsed through the information being given to her. Just visiting? Nora had already figured that was fake when she’d asked if Nora lived there. So why repeat the line? Sometimes Bonita Femur takes water? Was that truly theft?  The conversation seemed to pain Ariadne as she squeezed her eyes shut. Nora slouched against the wall watching the moonlight drift in from the window. Freed from the cloud that had hid it, it became an invisible barrier between the two of them. “Visiting.” Nora repeated the word as if it was a weight on her tongue. “You come here to drink water?” A pause before continuing, her hands digging themselves into her pockets, tapping against her leg. “I was also visiting.” The word touched her tongue again, was that what they were calling breaking and entering in the night now? Maybe it was a code that Ariadne was more comfortable with? Nora knew conversationally she was a blunt edge compared to some of the sharp tongues in the world. Perhaps, she could attempt to fence instead of bludgeon. 

“What would the police do?” Nora asked, her monotone voice unable to fully express how unimpressed she was with the armed civil forces. “Arrest us?” Nora added the us because she wasn’t sure if Ariadne realized that telling people would also place her at the crime scene. An accomplice despite being the perpetrator of a different crime. In recent years, Nora had made a habit of taking selfies while running from the police. A folder on her phone was dedicated to the past time. The pursuing cops had never posed a serious threat, mostly because moments after the selfie something horribly horrifying would show up as a distraction. While they were busy screaming their little brains out, Nora would slip off unnoticed. It was having to answer why she was breaking in that tied Nora’s tongue. Could she admit why she was stealing food without admitting why?  Nora figured it was worth a try. Fencing instead of bludgeoning, she reminded herself. 

“I was picking up the expensive stuff. For our picnic.” Nora pushed herself off the wall and leaned forward, propping open the picnic basket. It was true that the items stolen from the household would cost more than an average college student could afford. Nora, who had made it through life without a single idea of how economics worked, did not know that. All she knew was this household was guaranteed to have the good fresh ham. “Do you want to go on our picnic now?” Nora faced the window. It was a beautiful night. It was the kind of night that could be confused for day with how brightly the moon danced with the stars. “They probably have sweets. We could find something you like.”

“Uh, yeah.” She didn’t like lying. Especially not to someone like the girl in front of her, who’d been nothing but kind, if a bit preferential towards flustering her, or catching her off guard. If she hadn’t been holding various foods and clothing items, Ariadne might have thought that the girl in front of her was a mare, too. Except of course she wasn’t. Even if she apparently had a penchant for thievery, she was clearly still a far better person than Ariadne was. 

Not that stealing was good, but rich people could easily recover from that. What Ariadne did, it didn’t matter who you were, there was always the chance of dying. At that thought, all she wanted was a giant sundae, covered with as many gummy candies and as much hot fudge as possible. “It’s nice to meet you.” Which it was, even if she couldn’t quite get over the feeling of guilt that rested in her. She liked the girl in front of her. She didn’t want to do something to upset her, to make her run off. She couldn’t think of the last time she’d been drawn into a friendship so quickly. Even with Wynne, though it had been fast, had still taken some time. This friendship had started just online and she’d been so excited to meet in person.

“I don’t know. They’d try to do something, maybe.” Ariadne made a face. Except that calling the police was a bad idea, considering she was a murderer, and she didn’t want her new friend to get in trouble, so she shook her head. “But probably nothing. I don’t think there’s really any point in it anyhow, right?” She attempted to shrug, half-heartedly, though she’d always been bad at faking nonchalance, and that clearly hadn’t changed with the newly undead-ness.

“You were?” She couldn’t help but smile. “That’s amazing - you - wow.” Ariadne nodded. “I’d like that - unless you wanted to wait? I was looking forward to the picnic, and I can be pretty patient, but if you’re offering time to hang out sooner instead of later, I’d really like that.” She offered the other girl a small smile. “Let’s go find some sweets.”

“Try to do something, and fail at everything.” It was the police way. Nora would never be afraid of them. Nora started to drift away from the back door, and back towards the kitchen. “I’m Nora. I don’t really like to give my name online. It’s…” What it was was complicated. Even giving away the name Nora seemed like a stretch, but here she was trying to make a friend. Honestly, being Friend was nice. Nora could live with just being Friend. “You can keep calling me Friend if you want,” Nora added. Nora had never been anyone’s friend before. 

The first stop Nora made upon entering the rich people’s kitchen was trying some of their breakings and entering worthy water. It tasted like water. Nora stood over the sink, her face blank as she took small sips of the water. “It tastes like water.” Nora finally stated. Nora started to wonder if Ariadne was homeless, just like herself, and breaking into places for their access to water was a survival tool and not a water test. Nora felt silly for trying the water then. She shouldn’t make a big deal about other people being homeless. If Ariadne wanted to talk about being homeless, she would. Nora wasn’t going to press. She hated when people pressed her. 

Nora started rummaging through the pantry. Anything that looked remotely sweet, she would pull out and place it on the counter. “It’s a beautiful night. It would be a waste to let this serendipitous moment pass us.” Nora hoped she was using the word right. She'd heard it once on TV and while she thought she grasped the meaning of the word, it just seemed like it would be an impressive thing to say at the moment. "Beautiful weather. Good company. Expensive food. Why not." Nora looked at the selection she'd pulled from the pantry. "Does anything look good? We could take it all if you want. They might notice though." 

“Yeah. That sounds about right.” After all, she had to be grateful for their failure on some level, because otherwise she would be in jail. Or something. Still, Ariadne chose to focus back on her friend. Her friend Nora. “What if I do both? I like calling you Friend, too, but I also feel pretty special that you felt like you could tell me your name.” The other girl was nice, even if their circumstances of meeting weren’t necessarily how she might have expected to meet a new friend, and Ariadne didn’t have much in the way of friends right now, so someone so nice and easy to talk to was more than welcome.

“It’s probably uh, like, more purified or something.” Ariadne scrunched up her nose. She wished that she could tell Nora the real reason why she was here, but that wasn’t a good idea, not unless she wanted Nora to hate her. Some day, she would. Probably. Maybe. If they were going to be friends, she’d have to be open, except that if she was open, she might lose her friend. So she tried to not focus on it too much right now.

“You know big words,” Ariadne grinned. “I mean that in a good way, I don’t know if I could use a word like that just out of the blue. You’re a pretty impressive friend, Nora.” She wasn’t trying to sound too overdone - her awe of her new friend was wholly genuine. “It’s a perfect night. There’s excellent company, and yes, good food too.” She looked at the treats that Nora had put out on the countertop. “They’ve got birthday cake oreos - I don’t think we can pass those up. Uh - we could also grab the chocolate-caramel squares, and maybe the gummy cherries? Does that work for you?”

Nora eyed her friend. Ariadne. She seemed to be wrapped in a cocoon of genuine emotion. Emotions shone on her face, making her features interesting and compelling. Nora couldn’t help but compare the genuine and sincere attitude of the woman to her own cold and off-putting demonor. And she wanted to be friends. The world was wild like that, wasn’t it? “Both.” Nora agreed. “Both are good.” How could she deny someone who seemed so pure in her intentions. Nora hoped with all her might this wouldn’t come back to bite her. All her years of secrecy, torn down by a pretty face and a nice attitude. Wouldn’t that be so fucking dumb of her. Nora let the extra filter lie fly right by her, unaware that it was a lie. Nora assumed her pallet was simply not refined enough to notice the difference. 

“You know big words,” 

The praise ran through Nora. Nora looked away, a hand raking its way through Nora’s hair. It got stuck on a knott. Fuck. That was embarrassing. “Yeah. Big words are my speciality.” Nora lied. It was impressive though, right? Nora listened to Ariadne’s list of choices, tossing them out and to the side. The rest of the good stuff went back into the pantry. “Dealer’s choice. I’m not picky.” Nora had never been a fan of sweets. Perhaps that was how she ended up with her sour disposition. Tonight she would eat the sweets dictated by Ariadne. Nora closed the pantry door, making sure it latched as silently as possible. “Anything else, while we’re grocery shopping?” Nora’s eyes swept across the kitchen. Nothing stood out to her.

Nora retrieved the picnic basket she’d filled with stolen goods already, moved her new shirt to the side and filled it up with Ariadne’s picks. “I know a perfect spot around here.” Nora shutthe basket. “Ready?” Nora, impatient as ever, didn’t wait for the answer. She exited through the back door. The hike to the perfect spot was short. A five minute walk up a hill. It led to a small flower garden wrapping around a perfect circle. Nora could only assume it was planted as a picnic spot. She entered the circle, pulling out a stolen blanket and spreading it out. “What do you think?”

“Both works for me, too.” Someone so kindly and so actively offering their friendship made her feel good, albeit entirely undeserving. But she’d mope about that later. Ariadne enjoyed living in the moment incredibly well right now. Too much, but that was okay. Which only meant that the lies, however benign, felt all the worse.

“That’s incredible.” Ariadne smiled, “though even if you only know some big words, I’d still be wildly impressed by you.” That wasn’t too much to say, was it? The least she could do for her new friend was to compliment her, and to show when she was impressed. That was the kind thing to do, and, furthermore, it was what she wanted to do. “Okay, just - wanted to make sure, you know?” She followed Nora’s gaze around the kitchen. “I think we’ve gotten all we’ll need.” She wasn’t especially keen on stealing anything else, and besides, the company was far more important to her than just about anything else right now.

Before she could nod (and nod with a big smile), Nora was on her way, and Ariadne quietly followed her out. “I’d love to see it.” She continued to follow Nora up the hill, breathing in the cool night air - there was something about the smell of the nighttime that she found herself in deep appreciation of. “This is perfect.” She grinned at Nora. “Ideal picnic location, I think. Though I mean, I’m sure whatever we’d have decided on would’ve been perfect, but yeah.” She sat down, cross-legged. “Should we start with the ham?”

"I wouldn't get too eager to hear big words." Nora's monotone made the joke fall short. In truth, she wasn't sure she would be able to pull out big words again. It worried her. Maybe Bonita Femur was only friends with her because she was good at speaking. Literally, no one had said that about Nora before. She would underdeliver. Another failure for her scrapbook of failures. Nora tried not to think about it. 

Nora spread herself out on the picnic blanket, legs tossed in front of her. Before the eating could commence, Nora had to pull out her pocket friends. Nora felt around inside her pockets and pulled out a collection of two snakes and one bat. Nora wasn't sure where this bat was coming from, she was definitely a new addition to the creatures that rode around in her pockets. Nora rehung the bat to the front of her jacket. "Gotta feed them too," Nora explained, waving a casual hand at her friends. The snakes wound themselves around Nora in various positions. Between the ghosts she'd seen her whole life and the critters that crawled around with her, Nora had never needed a human friend. But it was nice. It was nice to sit across from someone who could have a conversation and wanted to speak to her. 

Ariadne suggested the ham first. A true friend already. Knowing exactly what it was Nora wanted. "I can never say no to ham." Nora dug within the basket, pulling out four different types of ham. A hunk of fully cooked ham, honey smoked ham in deli slices, Jamon Iberico (that was a special type of ham made in Spain), and Prosciutto. Nora was generally fine with eating the cheap and generic honey-smoked ham, but she made sure to grab the more expensive types for Ariadne. Just in case she wanted variety. "We have it all here," Nora said with a nod of her. A pause before diving back into the picnic basket. "And honey." 

“Oh, don’t worry, you don’t have to use big words around me.” Ariadne made a small face. “I just thought it was cool, but you just wanting to hang out, even if we didn’t talk at all, would be equally great.” That much was entirely true - the idea of just having someone to hang out with made her feel unbelievably thrilled. “Big words can be like, way overrated, anyhow.” She certainly believed that. Almost as much as she believed that Nora - Friend - would probably want to stop hanging out once she found out about everything Ariadne had done.

A snake and two bats appeared, and Ariadne wasn’t sure entirely what had happened, and for a moment she hoped that maybe they wouldn’t freak out because of her, but she saw them twisting and hissing and she bit down on her tongue. “I’m sorry.” She felt shaky, though at least for the time being, Nora didn’t seem to mind. “Sorry, sometimes animals freak out around me - I love them, I am so sorry they do, but it’s - yeah.”

“Okay, good. Ham sounds good.” Right now, just about anything did. “The deli slices look really good, but I don’t think I’ve ever had jamón ibérico - and that looks fancy, so maybe we could try that? If you wanted. Honey sounds good too.” Ariadne offered a small smile to Nora. “Is it too weird if I wrap the ham around the honey?”

Ariadne seemed so genuine in the way she spoke. Gentle tones. Soft words. A light contrast compared to the pitch-black void Nora saw herself as. A contrast as stark as their hair colors.  There was a reassurance with every word Ariadne spoke. The underline of you are enough because you want to be here. Never demanding more, be someone tolerable, be someone personable, be better than you are. It was simply a thank you for being you, no strings attached, no questions asked. It was an odd undertone. It was something Nora was going to have to think about later. She let the conversation of big words fade away. In time, she would address this and other curiosities of people. Not now. Not under the beautiful moon lit sky enjoying a tasty meal.

It was odd that Nora’s friends didn’t like Ariadne. Nora moved them behind her, out of sight of Ariadne. “That’s weird.” Nora noted. “They don’t normally care about others.” Nora started handing them food, hoping that would appease them. “Well, they are free to go whenever they want if they don’t want to be here. They just show up in my pockets.” Nora explained. From a young age creepy crawlies have come to her. It’d always been funny when her dads would come into her bedroom at night and find snakes in her bed. The fear meals it would supply…superb. A bang of guilt and longing for home twinged her at the memory. She shoved it aside. “Why do they get freaked out by you? I bet my dog would like you… Maybe. Are you easy to scare?”

Ariadne had a question for everything. A question if it was okay to do this, to try that. Nora blinked at her. “You can try anything here you like. I stole it for us.” Nora explained, wanting to put her friend at ease. She pulled the jamón ibérico out of the basket, opening the packaging and holding it out towards Ariadne. “Oh I forgot the toasted bread.” Nora realized, as she rummaged around more. “When its good, its supposed to be eaten mostly plainly. Because the taste is so good. I’m sure we don’t need to pair it with anything.” Nora had never cared about pairing her expensive foods with other foods. If the taste was good, why not eat it and enjoy all the flavor as was? 

“I’m sorry.” She looked at Nora, sadness in her eyes for a moment, because even something as small as this just proved that she shouldn’t be around someone so good. “If you’re certain, I’m sorry. I love them, I promise. I think all creatures are worth lots of love.” She’d held the “creepier” animals in elementary school when nobody else would, because Ariadne felt bad that they weren’t being shown love. She’d had a collection of pet worms and beetles in her backyard growing up - always outside, because they were happier there, and she wanted them to be happy. “That’s pretty remarkable that they always show up in your pockets. They must really like you.” She offered Nora another smile.

“I - sometimes animals, uh, have a hard time around me.” She winced. “I love them though, I’d never ever ever dream of hurting one. I’m not so easy to scare, no.” Ariadne sighed, “I can be jumpy, but stuff doesn’t really scare me. How about you? Only if you want to tell me, though, I know you like your privacy, and I don’t want to invade that.”

She didn’t know if it was the intention, but Nora put her at ease. Made her feel calmer and more relaxed. Ariadne stretched out her legs, pointing her toes as she listened to her friend (her honest-to-gosh friend!) talk. “You’re just an expert, and I guess I didn’t want to do something wrong and make you think I was disrespecting your favorite food or anything. That’s all.” She took a piece of the ham and dropped a dollop of honey into it, before rolling it up and taking a bit. “Yum. This is real good. I’m good with not pairing. I don’t see the point of weirdly fancy food combos - like, I mean, sure, if someone wanted to pay for a lot of money for a fancy dish at that fish place in town - Codfather? I’d say yes, but I’m a believer in eating things the way that you enjoy. Though I did try the ice cream around fruit roll ups trend, and that was amazing.” 

“Don’t be sorry.” Nora tilted her head, looking at the blonde in front of her. “Why be sorry over something you can’t control?” Nora stretched out her legs, pointing her toes and relaxing in the nice night breeze, a mimic of Ariadne’s own actions but in the pleasant way of two people enjoying a moment together and not the mocking of trolls on the internet lining up to see Nora fail. It was a good night to be out with a friend, eating food and enjoying friendship. “He doesn’t like most people, and the people he does like aren’t –“ Nora was going to say aren’t likeable. Because Nora wasn’t likeable. But Ariadne was surely likeable. A ray of sunshine that swept into people’s house to drink their water at night. What was wrong with that? “Normal.” Nora finished, unsure if that was something mean to say.

“I’m not scared of anything.” Nora replied. Nora tilted her head as she examined Bonita Femur. Not an easy scare? Nora’s fingers twitched as if it was a challenge. All she had to do was reach for that power buried deep inside her and voila, there would be a fear to test Ariadne’s lack of it. Would it be true? Or would it be the over exaggeration of a person who didn’t know fear? Not the way Nora knew fear. Alas, Nora was learning how to be a good human. She was already a good bugbear. Friendships were supposed to be made by not scaring people. Something she still struggled with, but she thought she should try. Next time they met, Nora promised, she would scare the living daylights out of Ariadne.

“I think the respect is in the enjoyment.” Nora admitted. “As long as you’re appreciating the meal, what more could someone ask for? Who am I to dictate how people will enjoy it best?” Nora ate some more as she returned the listening favor. Enjoying the timbre of Ariadne’s voice as she went over her food thoughts. This was pleasant. This was light and fluffy. Was this how humans felt all the time? Nothing dark and scary sitting in the corner? Just light conversation about human food they could both enjoy. “Ice cream in fruit roll ups?” Nora wasn’t the sweetest of tooth person, not like she’d found Ariadne to be. “I’ll have to try it some time.” Probably in Axis’s freezer. Nora had tried the fancy food. That was the privilege of growing up rich. It was also how she knew she didn’t care about it. A good ham was a good ham and that’s all that mattered to her. Perhaps now, good company was also starting to matter. “For the next picnic then?” 

“I don’t know, it just seemed like something I should be sorry for.” Which was a weird sort of thing to admit, but it was true – though Ariadne figured that by this point, she was supposed to be sorry for even existing, really, so the fact that she caused the sweetest of animals pain, especially animals that her friend liked, certainly felt like something one could - and should - apologize for. She longed to be able to hold the snakes and the bat - or to at least be able to feed them without stressing them out, but the likelihood of that happening seemed slim to none. She wanted to say she wasn’t normal, but admitting that was not the best course of action, even though Nora seemed extremely accepting, outing herself as a monster might still not be the best course of action. “That’s okay, I’d still like to meet him, if that would be okay with you? I used to pick up spiders and worms when I was little - they - uh, they used to like me - uh, but yeah - I’d love to meet your dog.” She offered Nora another smile.

“That’s amazing.” She nodded, “I’m anxious but — I don’t know, not real easy to scare.” There was a small part of Ariadne that wondered, if only for a moment, if Nora was like her. If Nora was also a mare – but she was probably just cool and not easily freaked out. She hoped no mares ever tried to feed on her. Maybe, the next time they hung out, she’d try to get Nora to keep safe, even if it meant they could never hang out at Nora’s place.

“Okay, good. Well, I do enjoy this very much, so please know that there’s as much respect as possible.” She grinned. “I’m going to have to eat ham more often.” Because Ariadne could, even if it didn’t satiate her appetite, she knew that she’d feel good while she ate it because it was tied to someone she cared so much about. “Yeah, it like, freezes the fruit roll up? I’m not a scientist so I don’t know why, but it makes it crunchy and chewy, which is lots of fun. If you want, you could come to my place sometime and we could eat them together? If you wanted to.” Except that Nora was now suggesting another picnic – “oh yes, or next picnic! Whatever works for you.” What she liked most was the fact that Nora wanted to hang out again, and she would’ve done anything she wanted - anything to make her happy - because they were friends, and Nora had been willing to steal to let them have a picnic, and she’d never had a friend willing to steal for her before. “That sounds pretty perfect. I - do you want my number? So we can talk about when to hang out again?” 

“Not your fault they don’t like you.” Nora countered. “If you’re not doing anything to them and they just don’t care for you, what’s there to do.” Nora felt the snakes settling in her pockets, apparently out of sight out of mind was good enough for them. The bat, on the other hand, decided to use this opportunity to fly away. Nora watched the friend disappear into the night. Nora never felt sad when a friend chose to leave her. They weren’t her pets, and she wasn’t their keeper. They chose to spend their time with her, if they decided they wanted to spend their time elsewhere then she was just grateful for the time she had. The same could be said about Babadook. For as much as Nora called him her dog, Babadook was his own keeper. Nora pulled out a phone and handed over the picture of the yeth hound. “Isn’t he cute?”

“Anxious?” Nora asked, she knew the word. It connected to some of her problems she had with her past life. Something she connected to the idea that people would throw her away the moment they found a better replacement. It was a word that trailed after her youthful uncertainty that she refused to put a name to. It was something she didn’t like to think about anymore. Cool girls were not anxious. “What are you anxious about? The world is big and vast, and we’re…” Nora paused as if she was trying to remember the right phrase. “Young, wild, and free.”

“Good. Ham is good.” Nora agreed, using the opportunity to eat more ham. Nora listened as Ariadne told her about the roll ups and invited her over or offered another picnic. Nora gave a shrug. It wasn’t supposed to be a shrug of indifference, it was a shrug I’m down for whatever. That was because “I’m down for whatever or wherever.” Nora answered. “Picnic, your house. I don’t have a preference. I’m just here for the company. But yeah, put your number in my phone. We’ll keep in touch.”

“I’d never do anything to them.” She looked over to Nora, and hoped her earnest expression proved that she was being as honest as possible. Thankfully, as always, that Nora was as exceptionally understanding as she was. She took Nora’s phone and grinned. “He’s adorable!” Ariadne hoped that her expression conveyed how genuine she was - because certainly, the dog wasn’t like ones she’d really seen before, but he was cute – the only thing that made her stomach feel sour was the fact that even this animal, who she’d never seen before in her life, would probably still hate her. “You’ve got the literal coolest pets. I mean, guinea pigs, dogs, whatever are great, but yours are the most creative I’ve seen.”

Ariadne nodded in response to Nora’s question. “Yeah, I worry a lot, but it’s fine! I’m not worried right now - I’m having a really wonderful time.” Another smile. “Yeah - we are young, wild, and free – or at least I suppose we’re supposed to be.” She wished she wasn’t - she’d have thought that having the inability to feel fear would decrease her anxiety, but if anything, it had just made everything a whole lot worse.

“It is.” At Nora’s response, she grinned again. “Yeah? Same. Big same, that sounds good. We could do both, even.” She hoped that Nora would hang out with her more, because Ariadne felt like this was a nice start to a friendship, and she needed more friends - and if those friends could be like Nora, then she’d be all set. “Deal. We’ll talk soon.”

[ariadnewhitlock]

Felix and Ariadne meet Fluffy! || Felix & Ariadne

TIMING: Before The Orange. LOCATION: A forest. SUMMARY: Felix and Ariadne run into a Kerashag. They react to it in the most Them way possible. TRIGGER WARNING: None.

There were times, even now, where the woods felt more like home than the apartment they’d lived in for years. It was funny, in a way; Felix hadn’t enjoyed their time living in the cabin with their father and siblings, but they were nostalgic for it all the same. It was so much easier to miss things once you’d lost them, he supposed, so much easier to long for something once it was gone. Walking through the woods now, they felt that all-too familiar ache in their chest. They half expected to run into their father, a stuttering hint of fear filling them at the thought. Or maybe they’d find one of their siblings. Or… no one at all.

Or something else.

They heard it first. The low, strange call of ‘oooom oooom’ that echoed through the trees. And then, desperate footfalls of someone running. That was just about all the warning they were given before someone collided with them in a tangle of limbs and messy blonde hair. Felix blinked from his spot in the leaves, looking up at the girl who’d collided with him. She looked… distressed, to say the least. “Are you —” They were interrupted by another, much closer cry of ‘oooom oooom.’  “ — okay?”

—

It was cold, but Ariadne supposed that wasn’t supposed to bother her. It didn’t really bother her, since she herself was freezing cold most of the time. Still, it felt wrong to go out in winter without a coat, and so she still kept one on. If nothing else, pulling it around herself was a good use of her nervous energy and need to fidget around. It was excusable, and she could pass it off as something wholly human rather than something monstrous. (She wasn’t a monster — or she tried to tell herself as much, but it was hard, and she still thought back to that stupid van).

There was a weird sound in the forest today.

And not weird in the way that animals scurrying away from her was weird, but like, weird weird. Some sort of echo, and Ariadne decided that she wasn’t too sure she was much of a fan of the echoing. Not to offend the echo, or anything, but it just wasn’t totally her vibe. Which was fine, right? Not everything had to be her vibe. She could not vibe with some things! Crash – except that her hyperfocus on whether or not it was morally acceptable to not vibe sometimes caused her to run straight into someone. “I – yeah.” Except the echo-y sound was still there. “I’m �� are you okay? I’m sorry, I didn’t – wasn’t – looking where I was going as much as I should’ve been.”

—

She seemed a little distressed, and it wasn’t hard to guess why. The sound wasn’t quite skyquake loud, but it was definitely echoing in a way that seemed to shake the trees. And that probably wasn’t good, was it? Most things that made sounds that loud weren’t really things you wanted to run into in the woods on your own, Felix thought. Especially not when accompanied by thunderous footsteps that seemed to imply the thing in question was big. There were a lot of monsters in this town, and Felix had met too many of them already. They weren’t keen on meeting more.

But they also weren’t keen on forgetting their manners. They stood, offering a hand to the girl who had fallen with them. “Oh, no! I mean, I wasn’t watching where I was going, either. It was probably my fault, mostly. I’m clumsy.” It was something Leo used to chastise them for often, and Felix was fairly certain that there was some truth behind it. They were clumsy, and that was why they did things like run into girls in the forest while surrounded by loud noises. “Um, do you want — Do you think we should go? I can’t tell which direction that sound is coming from, but I think we should go in… the opposite direction.”

—

“I’m clumsier. I do ballet, you’d think I’d be better at that sort of thing.” Ariadne made a face. “Please, don’t apologize, you really don’t have to.” It made her feel uneasy, when people apologized too much to her. Or apologized at all, really.

“Yes. We should go in the opposite direction.” Ariadne nodded. “I don’t – I can’t tell what the opposite direction is, exactly, but we should go in it, whatever it is.” Because she didn’t want to deal with whatever was happening, but she was not about to leave someone, even a stranger, because what if they got hurt? What if something happened and she could’ve helped prevent it but didn’t because she was a wimp. 

She gestured away from where they stood. “We could – try – to go there?” Hopefully, it couldn’t hurt, even if Ariadne was way off base with her judgment of how to handle tricky situations (which, in all honesty, she probably was, but she’d have plenty of time to stew in those thoughts later. Right now she needed to focus on the person she was with. Make sure they were okay.)

“What do you think?”

—

“Oh, hey, that’s really cool! Ballet, I mean. I, uh, I always thought it looked fun.” They’d begged their mother to let them do it once, but she’d worried that if they were too nimble on their feet, it might attract the wrong sort of attention. So much of Felix’s life, even in the beginning, was built up out of fear. “I’m so—” They cut themself off before they could apologize for apologizing, wincing just a little at their own awkwardness. Yikes.

At least they were on the same page about plans. Opposite direction, check. Felix shifted their inner ear enough to get a better grasp on the sound and where it was coming from, tilting their head to the side. It seemed to be coming from the direction the girl had run from and a little to the right. 

Gesturing in that direction, he nodded. “It’s coming from that way,” they announced. “So, um, this way? Would be good.” Which was the same direction she’d gestured towards so, really, Felix’s input was a little useless. “Uh, probably fast! I think we should go fast. Is fast okay with you?”

—

“It’s a lot of work, but it’s fun too, yeah.” It was something that brought a certain calm to Ariadne, though she knew that wasn’t the case for everybody. Not even everyone who’d been in her studio, and she knew she shouldn’t take the fact that she felt at ease with it all for granted.

“Yes, I think so too. Going that way, I mean. This way. Your way!” She wanted to kick herself in the shin for her awkwardness, though through some force of sheer luck and grace of whomever, Felix was chill about it. Ariande wasn’t sure that she had the words to thank them enough.

She nodded. “Fast is for sure okay with me. We should just, like, get away from this all, right?”

—

She didn’t ask how they knew where the sound was coming from, and Felix was glad for that. The panic clawing at their chest would have made it difficult to answer, and they didn’t think they needed to be wasting time right now. They had to make a break for it, and quickly. With this stranger in tow, ideally; they didn’t like the idea of leaving her on her own, even if some part of them seemed to think that was the best idea. (They didn’t know where that came from; they felt the strangest urge to run from this girl just as much as the sounds coming from the woods. It didn’t make a lot of sense to them.)

“Fast!” They agreed. “Yeah! Um, I think — On the count of three? Run as fast as you can. That way! One… two… three!” As soon as the last word was out of their mouth, they were sprinting, hoping that the young woman would keep up.

—

They seemed vaguely jumpy around her, but Ariadne figured maybe she was projecting. Which she did a lot, especially around strangers, and so maybe that was happening. She was going to just assume that, because she didn’t want to be an added issue on top of whatever the heck else was going on.

“Fast is good.” She agreed, repeating herself again. But that seemed to flow with them, and they didn’t seem like they were about to yell at her and judge her for it, so that was all good. “Uh-huh, three.” Ariadne readied herself, taking off half a second after they had. Once they stopped, a good ways away, she did too. “You don’t think something back there was hurt, do you?” It was probably not the greatest of ways to think, survival-wise, but what if the sounds had meant something was in pain?

—

A hint of guilt stabbed through them at her question. Felix hadn’t even considered that something might have been hurt, that something might need their help. They’d been so caught up in the strange, unsettling feeling churning in their gut, in the jaguar’s unexplained unease. What did it say about them that they needed to be reminded, in this moment, that they weren’t the only thing out there? 

Glancing back in the direction they’d just come from, Felix hesitated, bouncing uncertainly on their heels. “I don’t — Maybe. Maybe we should — I mean, I could go back and check. To make sure. You don’t — You don’t have to come or anything, it could just, you know, uh, just be me.” They could handle themself if it was something dangerous, couldn’t they? They handled themself against dangerous things every night at work, even if they hated themself for it in the morning.

—

“I could go back and check. I don’t want you to have to go just by yourself.” Especially because she’d suggested it. She didn’t need credit for it or anything but if something bad did happen, then maybe the other person wouldn’t end up being hurt.

“You shouldn’t have to go back by yourself.” Ariadne corrected herself. Trying to sound more firm and decisive, though she wasn’t sure how much she felt either of those feelings, but it didn’t hurt to fake it, did it? Not when it was faking something that would hopefully make someone else feel better. “Should we – I don’t want you to get hurt, but I don’t – know much about what that sound might be and so I’m afraid I have no real idea about stuff.”

Shuffling her feet, she turned around. “Or should we wait here?”

—

“It — I mean, it would be okay,” Felix insisted. Between the two of them, they thought, it probably made more sense for Felix to be the one to go back. After all, they had experience fighting; they weren’t sure the same could be said for the young woman before them now. If things got really bad, they could just shift and run, too. That was a good plan, right?

Except… she seemed almost upset at the idea of Felix going back alone. Her tone was decisive and firm, and Felix felt compelled to listen. They shifted their weight, uncertain. They didn’t want to upset their new friend by pushing too hard, but they didn’t want to leave anyone to be hurt, either. “I, um… I probably wouldn’t get hurt. I mean, not like ‘I’m invincible’ or anything, just — I’m pretty good at not getting hurt? I can, uh, move pretty fast, when I want to move fast. I wouldn’t want you to risk, uh, you know, getting hurt. But I think — I think I want to check. To make sure.”

—

“I don’t think or know if it would! I’m not trying to be rude, I believe you’re good at stuff, but I just don’t … people shouldn’t have to face bad stuff by themselves, if possible. That’s just… it.” Ariadne was positive she wasn’t making any real or significant sort of sense, but it was something, and the other person was listening to her which felt really nice and validating.

“I want to check too.” She nodded, firm as she could manage. “I mean, I might get hurt, but if there’s two of us we can look out for each other, and there’s less likelihood we’ll get hurt, like, statistically speaking. Or whatever.” Her mom talked about statistics in her classes sometimes and so it seemed like the right sort of thing to say. “We can go and look and check and then we can go, once we know it’s not hurt or anything.”

—

Felix wasn’t sure any stranger had ever held that kind of sentiment towards them before. Sure, they had friends who would insist that they shouldn’t have to go at things alone, but this? Most of their experience with strangers involved them cheering in the stands as someone beat Felix bloody, or as they hurt someone else. This was new. And… welcomed, really. “That’s… really nice of you.” They weren’t sure what else to say. No words could really encapture the warmth they were feeling at the simple sentiment. 

“We can check together,” they agreed with a small smile. “Two heads are better than one, right? And we definitely stand a better chance together. We can watch each other’s backs, and make sure nobody is hurt. Not even the, uh, screaming woods creature thing.” 

—

They were calling her nice and she wanted to vehemently shake her head and tell them that they should save that word for someone else, someone who did all their actions purely and kindly. Someone like Wynne. She wasn’t sure if she could be considered nice when she was the reason so many people had a hard time sleeping. Still, it was genuine, and it made Ariadne feel good – really good, even. “Thanks. I mean it! I try to not lie, ‘cause it’s mean to lie, and you’re really good and nice and smart.” She meant every word.

“Yeah, I agree. We can keep each other safe and yeah – ‘cause we don’t want to hurt the screaming thing. If it tries to eat one of us we might have to tell it firmly ‘no’ but hopefully we won’t even have to do that!” She turned, started walking back toward where the sound had come from. “Let’s… see what’s up?”

—

Not many people thought Felix was smart. Nice, maybe — they tried to be kind when they could, as often as they could — but not smart. It was something Leo often reminded them of with a scoff, eager to point out their many intellectual failings. They ducked their head as Ariadne insisted upon the contrary, called them smart like she believed it and insisted that she wouldn’t lie. They thought it would be rude to tell her she was wrong, so they only nodded. Maybe it was okay to let her think they were smart, even if they knew they weren’t.

“Right, yeah, definitely! But, um — I mean, if it tries to eat you, I — I’d be okay with doing more than telling it no.” Felix was gentle, but they had spent most of their formative years living in the woods. They knew it was necessary to hurt animals sometimes when it was to ensure your own safety, and they were definitely okay doing it to ensure Ariadne’s safety. It just wasn’t their first instinct. That was all. “But, yeah! Let’s see what’s up!”

—

“Okay, that’s fine, but I still don’t want you to get hurt. But I also don’t want either of us to get eaten.” Ariadne wasn’t sure if she’d even taste good, given the whole dead thing and all, but that wasn’t something she wanted to focus on and wasn’t something she was going to voice to Felix, either. Because that would probably only freak them out. Which she absolutely in no way wanted.

She followed them back to where they’d both stood before. “Hello?” She called out. “Are you very hurt?” She wasn’t sure what else to ask, and hoped that Felix would be better at this than she would be, because Ariadne knew very well that she wasn’t even half of an expert on any of this.

—

“I won’t get hurt!” They were pretty confident in their ability to win a fight, even if fighting wasn’t a thing they enjoyed. Wildcat was a formidable opponent in the ring, one of the Grit Pit’s best fighters. And while Felix might have hated that aspect of their life, they could recognize that it was a thing they were good at. They could use it to their advantage when they had to, could fight for people who might not be able to fight for themselves. (Maybe that was a bad assumption to make about Ariadne, but… she didn’t exactly seem eager to stand up for herself here.) 

Slowly, the pair made their way back to where they’d stood before. Ariadne called out, but the strange creature they’d heard earlier didn’t seem to be where they’d left it. The echo of the girl’s voice was the only response she received to her question, and Felix shifted their weight. They could shift more than that, they thought, could try to sniff or listen, but… “Maybe it ran away? Which means it must not have been hurt, right?”

—

“Okay! If you’re sure!” They sounded sure, and she wanted to make sure that they were sure. But they weren’t the sort of person who would lie, and so it was all good. It was just her nerves talking, undoubtedly. She might have been a literal nightmare, but she was fairly certain she’d still suck at actual hand-to-hand combat.

Felix was super duper logical. “That makes sense. If it didn’t call back, it probably ran away.” Or it was hurt and dead. Which was not a road she wanted to go down. “So then it’s probably okay.” It would have to be, she nodded to herself. “Should we maybe go get ice cream or something and then come back for one more check?”

—

The uncertain panic still thrummed in their chest, but they were quick to push it — and the jaguar — down away from the surface. They offered Ariadne a firm smile and a nod. Yes, they were sure. They were never very sure of anything, but they were sure they didn’t want Ariadne to be hurt. That was one thing they could easily understand to be true.

And they were similarly sure that whatever had been chasing her before was gone now. It was a good thing, they thought. Felix was plenty capable of fighting, but they didn’t really want to. It was always a nice day when it wasn’t a necessary thing… nicer still when they could get ice cream instead. Offering Ariadne another smile, they nodded. “Ice cream sounds great.” And another check after… just to be sure.

[ariadnewhitlock]

TIMING: Afternoon/evening of August 30th PARTIES: Emilio (@mortemoppetere), Ariadne (@ariadnewhitlock), and a brief appearance by Wynne (@ohwynne) at the end. SUMMARY: Emilio goes to see what's up with the mare trapped in Rhett's van. Turns out he knows her! They both have a lot of feelings. Ariadne is safe... ish. Emilio has lots of feelings and also finds out that Wynne and Ariadne are dating. CONTENT: Child death (mentions), suicidal ideation (implied at some points)

Rhett had a goddamn mare in his van. 

This was going to happen. Emilio knew that. This was always going to happen. Rhett had been like this for as long as Emilio knew him. Harsh, brutal. Cruel. He’d never thought the last word would apply to his brother, never thought they’d get to a place where they’d be on opposite sides of anything, because Rhett was a constant. A rock, a foundation, the only person who’d ever really seen Emilio as worthwhile for the longest time. 

And yet, here they were. He was sneaking around the area outside his brother’s bunker. He was looking for that damned van. He was betraying something, even if he was doing what he thought was right. A betrayal was a betrayal. 

But this was still something he had to do.

The van came into view, and Emilio shuffled over to it. The door was locked; he made quick work of it. He was more accustomed to picking the locks on doors, but popping the old van’s lock wasn’t very difficult, either. He opened the door, clicked the button to unlock them all, then circled around to the back. Bracing himself, he swung the doors open and —

Jesus. 

It was the kid. The one from the mine, the one who’d once told him she’d politely ask not to be killed if someone tried it. At least if it had been someone brutal, he could have… excused it, somehow. Put them out of their misery, told Rhett some excuse. But this? This was something else. He wasn’t going to kill the kid, and he wasn’t going to leave her here. 

(Was a discovery that couldn’t be hidden better or worse than one that was impossible to ever discover? He was about to find out.)

“All right,” he said quietly. “All right, kid. Let’s get you out of here. Come on.”

—

She didn’t know how long it’d been. The one thing Ariadne did know, though, was that she actually was probably going to die in this van. Or die again, or whatever it’d be called. 

Being a monster, maybe she deserved it, but she had people she cared about – people she loved – and she didn’t want to just die here. Not for one man’s silly sort of science experiment. The idea that she was an experiment for him made her curl back up into the ball that she’d stayed in throughout most of the time she’d been in the van.

She’d chewed her nails down to the quick, and she wasn’t sure if she’d ever been this hungry. Ariadne didn’t like it, and the focusing on what different sweets would feel like only did so much to satiate her. Which was to say, at this point, not much.

She jumped when the doors swung open, scooting very quickly toward the side of the van, lip trembling, hands balled into fists.

Except it wasn’t Him – it was – Emilio? Right? The one who she’d run into in the mines. Ariadne didn’t know what he was doing here, but she felt shaky. “Please – I – please, I’ve been good, I promise.” The words came out far more uneven than she would’ve liked, a jumble of sounds, both said in one breath and taken forever to stretch out. “I – please.” She shook her head, her whole body.

“Please just leave me here, I’ve been good, I don’t want to – I don’t want to change the experiment now.” Ariadne burst into tears. “It’s fine, it’s – how – how do you know Him?”

—

God, she looked terrified. Emilio felt sick at the sight of her, sicker still at the knowledge that it was Rhett who’d put her here. It was so easy, sometimes, to make excuses for the people you loved. Rhett did awful shit, but he was Emilio’s brother, so Emilio tried to explain it away. He’d lost someone once, and it made him hard. He’d made himself a family in Mexico and had it torn away in a heartbeat, and it made him angry. He’d buried Juliana and Flora, found Emilio half dead and trying his hardest to take the ‘half’ qualifier away, and it filled him with grief. Emilio could take those facts, could bind them together into something that made the only family he had left in the goddamn world into something redeemable because he didn’t want to be alone. He could excuse a lot of the shit Rhett did by closing his eyes to it.

But he couldn’t excuse this.

A goddamn kid, locked in the back of his brother’s van for something she couldn’t control. Terrified and starving because someone had killed her once and she hadn’t died the right way. What made Emilio any different, he wondered? His heart might beat, but he’d died in Mexico just as surely as this kid had died in her bed. Was it love that kept Rhett from locking him up in a van? Or was that beating heart the only qualifier? If he didn’t have that, he wondered, would the love be enough for Rhett to still save him?

He didn’t want to think about it. He was afraid of what the answer might be.

Moving forward, Emilio brushed away the salt Rhett must have been using to keep the kid in place. He faltered when she spoke, when it became clear that she thought he was here to help Rhett instead of her. His stomach clenched, nausea tugging at his gut. How many people would assume the same? How many people would take the things Rhett had done and put them on Emilio’s head? Was all the good he’d tried to do undone because he loved someone who did things like this? 

“I’m not changing the… experiment.” The word tasted like acid in his throat. Was Rhett doing this because of him, because he’d told him he didn’t know how long it took to starve a mare? Maybe this was his fault. Would it have been better if Rhett had just cut the kid’s head off? Emilio wouldn’t have been able to save her, but she wouldn’t have suffered like this, either. Suffering was worse, sometimes. He often looked back at Mexico and everything that had happened since and thought about how much he would have preferred a quick death. 

“I’m not changing it,” he said again. “I’m ending it. I’m getting you out of here. Okay? And I’m going to make sure he doesn’t come after you again.” He didn’t know how. Rhett had always been a hard man to convince, and this particular action would wipe away any doubt he had that something in Emilio had changed. That he was broken now, something different than the kid Rhett first met in Mexico twenty years ago. Maybe that wasn’t a bad thing. Maybe if Rhett had a new target for that anger and grief and hardness, people like Ariadne would fall off his radar as Emilio fell to the center of it. Let Rhett spend all his energy on ‘fixing’ Emilio, and he’d have less to break people like this. That was better.

The last of the salt was gone now, and he took a hesitant step back. “Come on out,” he said softly, in a tone he’d lost years ago. It was one he’d used with Flora, with Jaime. “Come on out, and I’ll call someone to come get you. Okay? To take you home. I’m not going to hurt you, kid, I promise.”

—

She wanted to scream, but even though she technically didn’t need anything other than nightmares to survive, her voice felt dry. Ariadne supposed, though, that not having been able to do anything for so long was probably affecting her voice or something. She didn’t know how any of that worked, and so her half hearted scream was even weaker than normal. Not that she’d ever been good at screaming, but then again, she’d never had to be good. Up until last year, she’d been so exceptionally lucky about everything that she hadn’t ever figured there would be a need to.

Which was believing too much in the good of the world, but that was still something that Ariadne felt, despite everything. Despite having literally been killed, despite being a monster herself… she still believed that. Which was, perhaps, why she got stuck in the back of some guy’s van. Him. She still wasn’t sure of His name, wasn’t sure if that was because He hadn’t told her or if she’d forgotten amidst everything else, but maybe that didn’t matter. It wasn’t like the police would pay attention to it, anyhow.

But she wasn’t supposed to let people just walk all over her. She wasn’t supposed to be weak, and so she attempted another scream, more fortified this time. 

Her lips felt chapped, impossibly so. The man who was here now had saved her, and let her help. Assuming the worst in people wasn’t something Ariadne was used to, nor comfortable with. Except he knew she was here, and he couldn’t have known that without knowing Him. Except she did remember that he’d once said something about being able to sense her, or something?

“You’re not?” She dug her nails into her calves, “but it’s – he – the tally marks.” 

Cass would be so mad at her for leaving. Wynne was probably worried. Unless what He said had been true, and she’d been here long enough to make it so that Wynne had moved on. Ariadne was fairly positive she hadn’t been here that long, but still. Her mind had the keen ability to jump to the worst possible scenario, though never blaming the other person.

“You’re getting me out of here?” 

She needed to stop asking so many questions.

Except, “how’ll you make sure he doesn’t? He’s strong and I don’t think he takes very well to my kicking and screaming and crying. I think he thought it was funny.” She looked down at her shoes, still not moving from her spot.

The tone of voice that came with the man’s next words was something that somehow immediately relaxed Ariadne. Reminded her strongly of how her dad had encouraged her to jump off the deep end of the pool, once - twice. How her mom had spoken to her when she didn’t want to start school without Chance. How Chance’s parents had spoken to the both of them, trying to convince them that cauliflower was good. (Ariadne still firmly believed that it wasn’t).

“I - okay. I – not my parents.” She didn’t know why she said that, but that would involve too many questions. “I need a new phone. I need – I need a lot.” Ariadne finally stood up, legs shaking. “He’s gonna come out and check soon, probably. I - what if - I think I know who you can call. I think I know their number.”

—

She screamed, and it was a hoarse and pathetic thing, but Emilio flinched like it was a banshee all the same. Like it was deafening, like it pierced through his eardrums and left blood streaming down the side of his head. It might as well have. That scream, that terrified little sound that wasn’t really much more than a squeak, it was worse than anything he’d heard in a long time. He thought of the vampire he’d fought with Zane, the one who’d known what happened in Mexico and weaponized it. I heard she died screaming. Had her screams sounded like that, in the end? Like a tiny squeak of a thing, the half-sob of a child who didn’t want to die?

Tally marks, she said, and he felt nauseous all over again. Rhett had treated it like a game, hadn’t he? Like an experiment, like a little test. It was awful, it was heartless, it was unforgivable, and still, there was a part of Emilio that wanted to defend him. Still, there was part of him that wanted to argue, wanted to insist that she’d misunderstood, somehow. As if his brother hadn’t had this kid locked in a fucking van for who knew how long, as if he wouldn’t have killed her had Emilio not come. 

There was nothing worse than love, he thought. Without it, he would have gotten the kid out of the van and taken a match to the whole goddamn thing, would have filled the bunker he knew was nearby with dirt and cement and made it uninhabitable. It was love that made his chest ache now, love that made his stomach churn. Rhett had done terrible things here. He had tortured someone who wasn’t much more than a teenager, and he’d enjoyed it. He’d left her alone and terrified, and he’d probably thought it was funny. He was a dangerous person, maybe a bad one.

And Emilio loved him anyway. Even now, even still. 

So what did that say about him? What did it mean when someone you loved was capable of something like this? When the first person who’d ever shown you any kind of affection — the only person who’d shown you affection for years of your life — treated kids like they were science projects? If Rhett was a bad man, what was Emilio? Did his brother’s irredeemable qualities paint a black mark on him, too? Could you be damned just for loving someone? 

And how much did the reason for that love weigh here? If he told Ariadne that the same man who’d locked her in that van had once held Emilio’s daughter and rocked her to sleep so that Emilio could get a few hours of shut-eye himself, it wouldn’t change what Rhett had done. If he recalled the way his brother dug the graves that he himself had been too broken to think of, that Rhett was the only reason Emilio’s wife and daughter were laid to rest in the dirt instead of left to rot in a living room floor, it wouldn’t change the days Ariadne had spent locked in a van. You could love someone, Emilio thought, but love didn’t make them good. Love didn’t make a hero out of a villain. The only thing love ever gave you was excuses.

“I’m getting you out of here,” he said again. “And he’s — I’ll make sure. I’ll make sure he doesn’t come after you again. Okay? I’m going to… I don’t know. I don’t know what I’m going to do. But I’m going to make sure you’re safe.” Maybe he’d give Rhett an ultimatum: that if he wanted to kill the kid, he’d have to take Emilio out first. And maybe he’d pretend that he was still confident what Rhett’s response would be to that. “Don’t worry. Okay? I’ll take care of it.”

Not my parents. Christ, she sounded young. How old was she? Nora’s age, Wynne’s? Younger than Emilio had ever felt, older than Flora would ever be. She had parents who were worried about her, and other people, too. 

He took out his phone, tossing it to her. “Use mine,” he said. “Call someone to pick you up, have them take you to get a new one later, when you’re better.” And he wouldn’t go with her when she left, because why would she want him to? She’d feel safer without him around, he knew. Even if she didn’t know his relationship with the man who’d hurt her, she must have been able to figure out that they knew one another. The van was so out of the way, hidden; no one could have found it without knowing it was there.

Besides… Emilio needed to wait for Rhett to get back. He needed to make sure this wouldn’t happen again.

“You can take my phone with you if you want to, or you can leave it here. Okay? Whatever you need, kid.”

—

She’d made him flinch and a wave of guilt swept through Ariadne’s body. Even in all her frustration, unfamiliar tiredness, and unrelenting panic, she still felt guilty, too. All of the emotions felt like too much, but she did her best to push through them. To try to let her focus wander elsewhere, like she’d been doing ever since she’d ended up in this stupid old van. To anything else – it often wound up back at Wynne, but it had also been other friends, and also Chance. A lot of that. 

Ariadne had convinced herself that he would have contacted her parents, because even if they weren’t talking as much as they used to, and even if they weren’t quite as close as they used to be, they still cared about each other, and Chance would’ve known that she wasn’t the sort to just up and disappear for even one day without warning. Even when she went to stay at Wynne’s, she’d let him know. 

She’d also run through dance sequences in her mind – she had neither the energy nor the motivation to actually dance, and thinking about it was good enough. Or, at least, she’d convinced herself of such. 

The whole deluding herself thing was something she’d become remarkably good at, all things considered. 

Ariadne supposed that, on some level, even convincing herself that she was any version of alive was its own sort of delusion, wasn’t it?

Even if, legally, somehow she was. Because being a literal dead girl and enrolling in college would have been difficult, to say the very least. She’d been too confused when she woke up. Came back to life. Whatever it was. Un-died while still being dead? Point was, He had said that she was supposed to think about what she’d done to get herself into this place, and she’d done a lot of that.

She was nothing if not obedient, even to gray-long-haired creeps who very obviously didn’t understand the scientific method.

“I don’t know –” her breath (which, she supposed, she technically didn’t need, and yet now, and yet always, it felt so necessary) caught in her throat that she had to cough to expel it.

“ – I don’t know if I am safe. Can be. I don’t –” her voice broke off, fragmented, unsure. Scared, still.

“You’re not supposed to worry about me, remember? Not supposed to have to help me.” She fiddled with her necklace. God, she thought, how was she ever going to explain not aging to her grandmother? It seemed as though everything Ariadne had panicked about was bubbling to the surface now. Which had to be the literal worst timing in the world, but she wasn’t so sure she had lots of karma points for good timing anymore. 

Thankfully, she did catch the phone that he threw at her. “No. I mean – you can –” he could what? Go with her? She wasn’t sure if she wanted that at all, but she also knew that she certainly didn’t feel safe going alone. “I can – yeah. I’ll call my partner. Except they can’t drive – or don’t – legally not allowed – could you bring me to their place, if I needed you to?” She tapped her fingers against the back of the phone, the click click click oddly satisfying and calming.

“But I – I’m not taking your phone. That’s stealing.” She shuffled slightly closer to where he was. “I don’t steal.”

—

Terror clung to every inch of her, and Emilio had no idea how to combat it. Usually, in situations like this, he could at least do something. A weapon wasn’t much good for comforting a traumatized kid, but it could at least take out whatever monster had birthed their fear. He’d killed ghouls for Nora, even if Nora hadn’t been afraid of them. He’d fought vampires for Wynne, even if he hadn’t fought them quickly enough to save Wynne from a scar on their throat. But what could he do for Ariadne now? How did you fight the monster when you loved it? How did you slay the dragon when the dragon was the only family you had left?

He watched her squirm, watched her panic, and he wondered if Rhett had felt any of the nausea curling in his gut now when he’d locked her away in that van. Had he doubted, for a moment, what he was doing? Had he thought about her family, about her cousin she said was ‘cooler’ than she was or her parents who were still alive because she was a kid? He knew the answer, and it wasn’t a comfort. Rhett wouldn’t have thought of any of that, because Rhett wouldn’t have seen the kid. He only would have seen a monster. Even when she’d cried. Even when she’d been afraid.

She didn’t feel safe, and how could he combat that? How could he make it easier for her to exist in this terrifying world when he was one of the things she ought to be afraid of? 

“I know,” he said quietly, because at least that was the truth. “I know you don’t feel safe. I know. But I’m going to make sure you are, whether you feel it or not. Okay? I’m going to do everything I can.” Except he wasn’t. Because if he was doing everything he could do, he’d slay the monster. He’d make sure the thing that hurt her wouldn’t get a chance to hurt her again. But Emilio couldn’t make that promise when the thing that hurt her was Rhett. Emilio couldn’t save her when the thing she needed saving from had peeled him off the forest floor and carried him to a stolen van with his family’s grave dirt still caked beneath its fingernails. 

He could make an empty promise, but he couldn’t keep it. He thought she might suspect as much. He didn’t know how to explain it away. Love was a hard thing to put to words, harder when you were trying to explain it to someone who’d been hurt by a person you loved. Emilio didn’t think he’d ever know how to do it fully.

He swallowed, remembering their conversation from before. “Maybe,” he said, “but I like doing things I’m not supposed to do. So I’m worrying anyway. I’m helping anyway. Don’t think you can stop me, kid. I’m a stubborn viejo.” 

She caught the phone, which was good. There was still some coordination there. She’d need it if she was going to get home… and get something to eat. He tried not to think about what she’d have to do when she left here, tried not to think about how little he knew she wanted to do it. She’d seemed disgusted by what she needed to do to survive when they’d spoken before, seemed to hate it. Now, thanks to Rhett, she’d have to feed quickly if she wanted to survive. Control would be a hard thing to come by after days of not eating at all, he suspected. But he couldn’t help her with that part. All he could do was what he was doing.

Shaking his head, he glanced back to the van. “I can’t go with you,” he said quietly. “I have to stay here and wait for him, so I can make sure you’re safe.” He’d talk to Rhett. He’d talk to him. He tried to convince himself that it would work, that his brother would somehow see his way of thinking and not hate him for it. It was a useless pipe dream, but what else did he have? “Your partner can take my car. It’s okay if they can’t drive legally. I can’t, either. They can take my car, and they can get you somewhere safe. But I have to stay here.” 

He let her come in closer, didn’t move as she got near. If she wanted to stand close to him, of all people, she could. He wouldn’t move in one direction or another; it was her decision. Something ought to be. “It’s not stealing. It’s borrowing. You can give it back to me when you get a new one, or when you finish with it. I’m letting you borrow it. Okay? Not stealing if I give it to you.”

—

“Okay.” She wasn’t sure how much she even wanted to talk. Not to Emilio specifically, but just in general. Like something was just broken. Even if Ariadne knew that sounded overly dramatic. 

Except that she wasn’t sure if she’d ever felt this tired other than the other time she’d died. Which wasn’t the sort of thing you were supposed to have others of. You weren’t supposed to be able to die more than once. Not unless you were a monster, or some sort of freakish defiance of nature. Except that Teagan didn’t think so, and Inge and Leila thought she was incredible. Cass liked her for what she was. So there were some people, at least, who thought of her as just Ariadne, still. Which meant a lot, even as she sat here, in the back of someone’s van who’d thought it would be fun to experiment with how long it took her to die.

Again.

“I still don’t know much of any Spanish, but okay.” Ariadne lay down on the floor of the van, again. “I’m just offering you an out.” One that she was glad he didn’t take, but still. The offer had to be there. She would’ve felt even more evil and wrong if it weren’t – and of course he didn’t take it, because even if her anxiety told her (and still did) that maybe he was there to help the other man whose name she still didn’t know, he was good and kind and she owed him at least some respect around that.

She had to feed, she was reminded of again, painfully so. Except this wasn’t just a case of her putting it off a bit longer than she would’ve liked. Now it was a matter of living unlife or death, again. She didn’t want that again. She wanted to call Wynne and kiss them and apologize for disappearing on them. Ariadne also knew that with how honest they’d been with her, she’d owe them an explanation of what had happened here, and why it had happened. 

Hopefully they’d still want to be with her after that. Or even be near her, be her friend. 

Ariadne knew that she couldn’t focus on that right now though, and so she looked down at the phone. “Okay. Or - okay.” Wait for Him. Emilio had to wait for Him. She let out another shaky breath, doing her best to not burst into tears again. “Okay.” She nodded again, unlocking the phone and texting Wynne – she wasn’t sure if she could handle being on the phone right now. Just a:

I’m okay. I need you to come pick me up. My friend Emilio says you can take his car if you need to.

With a pin of her location. 

“They should be here soon, I hope.” She stood up, finally, for a moment, still shaking, and stepped out of the van, only to drop to the floor almost instantly and curl her arms back around her legs.

—

She was still afraid. It was a tangible thing, something that radiated off of her like body heat, like a fever. She was still afraid, and she probably always would be now. He thought of the conversations he’d had with her before, about how she’d lamented that if someone were going to kill her, she’d just ask them not to. What life had she lived that she’d genuinely believed a polite request would be enough to prevent someone from killing her? Emilio found himself longing for a world in which she was right about that, for a world where his daughter could have carried the same belief and let it raise her into someone twenty years older instead of someone who died before she had the chance to even live. 

And there was mourning in that longing, too. Mourning for the little girl in Mexico who would never grow older, mourning for the kid in the back of the van who’d lost something of herself even if she was still here, mourning for the brother he’d loved and trusted and respected even when he shouldn’t have. Rhett would never forgive him for letting the kid go, and Emilio would never forgive Rhett for trapping her in the first place. What would they be, after this? What would be left for them?

He pushed the thought aside, because it didn’t matter. How he felt, how Rhett felt, it wasn’t important. What mattered right now, in this moment, was the kid. Getting her out of here before Rhett got back, making sure she wouldn’t be in danger because of him again. Emilio had no idea how to do that, but he knew he was going to. He’d do whatever it took. He couldn’t save that little girl in Mexico, couldn’t save the part of the kid who would be left in the van, but he could try to keep it from happening again. He wanted to do that.

(He tried not to think of Andy in that cabin. He tried not to think about the last time he’d tried to protect a kid by talking a hunter out of doing what hunters did. He tried not to think of dirt under his fingernails and a grave no one would ever find, but it was hard to think of anything else. That wouldn’t be Rhett. He’d die before he let that happen.)

“It doesn’t matter,” he mumbled, trying to pry his accent from the words, trying to exist in the language she understood best even if it was one that still felt foreign to him. “And I’m not — I don’t need an out. I don’t want one. I’m here. I’m helping. Okay? I’m doing that.” I owe you that, he wanted to add, but that would be a confession, wouldn’t it? That would be admitting to something he figured a part of her already knew, telling her that the only reason he’d known to rescue her was because the man who’d hurt her trusted him enough to tell him where to find her. And it was selfish and it was shitty and it was the worst goddamn thing about him, but he didn’t want to do that. He didn’t want to confess to that.

He watched her stammer through a response, couldn’t bring himself to think of anything else to say. She used his phone, she sent a message, she stumbled. He moved forward, carefully putting a hand on her shoulder as she sat on the ground. “Try not to move around too much,” he told her quietly. He ached with it, ached with her. All he could think about was Flora and Jaime and how the only thing Emilio had ever been good for, when it came to kids, was failing them.

They sat for a few minutes, Emilio on high alert just in case Rhett showed up again. But when the familiar sound of his own car’s engine reached him, he relaxed a little. “Sounds like they’re here,” he said quietly. “I’m going to help you to the car. All right? I’m going to help you to the car, and then I’m going to wait here. And you’ll go with your friend, and you’ll be safe.” He’d make sure. He would.

—

She had been gone for four days. There had been four days without messages, without Ariadne pressed next to them in bed, without her at breakfast or her coming to meet them for a picnic in the park, as they had agreed to. Wynne had been sick with worry, showing up at Whitlock Wares with wide, panicked eyes and not finding her there either. Only her parents, who seemed to be equally worried — which only made them worried more.

Awkward first meeting with their girlfriend’s parents aside, it had been four days of a dead trail, no answers and ice cold panic. Their mind jumped from vampiric cults to werewolves (it hadn’t been a full moon, had it) to their own family to monsters they weren’t even sure existed. Things were only just starting to settle, it seemed — their heartbeats growing stronger and steadier, their fear becoming easier to grasp.

And here they were again, caught in sleepless nights. It felt selfish, to even admit that this was making them feel worse — but it was. Wynne had gotten used to having Ariadne’s constant presence near them. If it was not physically, she was there to text during work or the moments where the world seemed to cave in. She was always an arm’s length away, and though there was plenty of time they spent apart (as there was so much to do, and not all of it could be done together), the fact that she was always close enough to call was a comfort they were attached to. More than that, Ariadne was safe. She not only felt safe, but she was supposed to be safe.

But she was gone. Four days of silence. Until their phone buzzed with a message of Emilio that carried her name. 

Wynne was quick. They could be quick if they needed to be, and this situation called for it. Shoes on. No jacket needed. Take the knife, though. Get out the door. Lock it. Avoid Jeff. Slip into Emilio’s place (never locked). Don’t pet Perro. Get the key from the fridge, that’s where he left it when he was drunk. Don’t pet Perro, Wynne, you have somewhere to be! Get out. To the car. Try not to panic. Unlock, get in, put key into the ignition and remember all Sully and the others taught them. Drive.

The issue with their driving had never been their ability to drive — Wynne knew how to handle a car, they just didn’t know how to do so in a tightly populated, urban setting with rules and regulations. They were lucky it was nighttime then, and that traffic was slow — because they were speeding, forgetting about blinkers and speed limits and – at some point – even forgetting how to stop the wipers from wiping the windows aggressively. They at least managed to turn the radio off.

“Your destination is on your right,” the robot lady voice informed them and they hit the brakes, staring wide-eyed at none other than Emilio through the side of the car. Their gaze dropped and they saw Ariadne, who looked alive and okay, but like she hadn’t slept or eaten in quite some time. The window wipers were still going, as if they were running a marathon. Wynne opened their mouth, then realized the window was closed and just burst out of the car, realizing way too late that they’d forgotten their seatbelt. No matter. It meant they were faster to crouch in front of Ariadne now.

“Hey, hey, I’m here, we can go —” they said, placing their hands on Ariadne’s shoulders, pulling her slowly towards them before looking over at Emilio for anything. Explanation, instruction, reassurance: Wynne would take it all. “I’m here, okay, we can – whatever this is, we can go.” 

—

She still wanted to say that he didn’t have to help her. Even now, amidst all her relief, there was still a feeling of guilt. If she weren’t a monster, then he wouldn’t have had to do this. She’d never gotten into trouble even remotely close to this back when she was alive. Ariadne still had to wonder how he’d found her. She didn’t know if maybe his ability to sense dead people was like, super long-reaching and meant that he knew where she was always. She didn’t know how else he would’ve found her. 

Or didn’t want to think about how he would have known. If maybe her anxiety-riddled questioning about if he’d come to help with the experiment held some sort of truth to it. If maybe, somehow, he’d just up and decided to back out at the last moment. Except that he’d offered to help, so that was probably her being unfairly cruel. Being a monster.

Just like He’d said she was.

Ariadne focused back on Emilio, offering a shrug. It was the most she could do, right now.

“Moving’s not easy, yeah.” She pressed her fingers against her temples, trying to make things stop spinning. Hoping for quite literally any other feeling besides panic, anxiety, or dread. Which wasn’t entirely likely or possible, but holding on to some sort of hope, no matter how false it was, had to be good, didn’t it?

Wynne was coming, too. She’d missed them more than she thought possible. 

Missed lying near them at night, missed sending them cute photos or just texts whenever she thought of them (which was a lot. Nearly constantly, as a matter of fact).

Ariadne stayed seated on the ground, still terrified that He’d come out to do one of his checks (she thought they’d been unpredictable, but then again, she hadn’t had any sort of sense for how to tell time, so maybe they’d been exact. Given His grins whenever she freaked out though, she figured they’d been random. It was easier to freak her out that way.)

The sound of a car came and Ariadne looked up, looked up as Wynne came out of the car and made their way towards her, how they were in front of her, suddenly, blessedly, and pulling her close to them and she buried her face in their shoulder, another sob wracking her whole entire body. “I’m so sorry. I missed you so much.” She whimpered again, pulling away to look up at them for a moment, longing to kiss them. “I’m sorry I - I’m getting your shirt all messy. I’m sorry I – I couldn’t text you, and I –” she broke off again, burying her face once again into their shirt, breathing in their comforting smell, the fact that they were here. 

Because they were here, she finally felt some sort of safety. Like things might be okay now – which wasn’t fair to Emilio, but she supposed that was what love was, sort of? Finding your home, having them be the person who could ground you the most and make you feel the safest. Or maybe it was the way Wynne’s hands felt in her hair, how comforting their breathing was, even though Ariadne was fairly certain they were unsteady and unsure about the whole situation. 

Still staying close to them, she finally looked up at Emilio too. “I – thank you, for letting me text them. I – yeah.”

—

His stomach was in knots. It had been ever since Rhett messaged him. Actually, no. That wasn’t — It had been for longer than that, hadn’t it? Since the day he ran into Rhett in that vampire’s apartment, since the moment he’d realized his brother hadn’t changed and he had. Emilio had been waiting for the other shoe to drop for months now, hadn’t he? He’d known since the day his brother walked back into his life that something like this was inevitable. He’d been doing what he could — making sure Rhett and Ren were never anywhere near his apartment at the same time, keeping Rhett away from Teagan’s lake — but it was never going to be a long-term solution. There was no long term solution. At least, not one he could accept.

(He thought of the ranger again, of Andy’s knife sliding between his ribs. The ranger’s face shifted in his memory, turned into Rhett instead of a stranger. The hand holding the knife became Emilio’s instead of Andy’s. He thought he might be sick.)

The kid was talking beside him, but it was hard to hear her. It was hard to hear anything over the sound of blood rushing in his ears. The car was here, and that was good. That meant she’d get away clean, meant she’d be gone before Rhett came back, meant he could… do something. Fix this, somehow. It was good.

But then the car door opened and Wynne stepped out, and nothing felt very good anymore.

The kid was approaching them, was sobbing into their shoulder, was kissing them. Emilio was somewhere else. An empty white space somewhere, a barn basement, a living room floor. The world was closing in tightly around him, squeezing him in a vice grip. He could swear he felt his ribs give way, could swear he felt them shatter and slice up his lungs, could swear he tasted blood in his mouth. Rhett hurt a kid. Rhett hurt a kid Wynne cared about. Rhett was a monster, and Emilio loved him.

So what did that say about him?

The kid was talking again, and Wynne was looking at him, and Emilio didn’t know where he was but he knew it wasn’t here. He nodded tightly, but it was hard to move around that vice grip. It was hard to do much of anything at all. 

He looked to Wynne, pleading with them silently. Don’t ask me about it. Please. Don’t ask me. “Take her away from here,” he said quietly. “Don’t take her to your place. Not yet.” He wasn’t sure how things would go with Rhett, but if there was any chance of his brother showing up at his apartment after this, the kid couldn’t be across the hall. “Take her somewhere safe. You can take my car, she can keep my phone. I’ll reach out. I’ll make sure this doesn’t happen again. Just take her somewhere safe.”

—

She was in their arms and maybe that was all that mattered, now. That Wynne could hold Ariadne, and soon pick her up, guide her to the car and drive away — maybe that was the only thing that mattered for now. Even if questions raced through their mind, like why Emilio was here, why there was a van, why Ariadne couldn’t stop crying and what had transpired over the past few days. They were dizzying, but the way Ariadne buried her face in their shirt, sobbing against them was oddly grounding.

It made it clear what had to be done. Wynne had been good at that once, knowing what needed to be done and doing it, with a clear head. Keeping that head high, despite the horrors unfolding in front of them. For Ariadne, they would try to do that too now — keep their head high, keep their crying to a minimum and go.

But they cried. Ariadne was crying against them and it was hard not to fall into the same rhythm, breaths leaving their throat too fast, almost stumbling over each other in their haste. “Don’t, no you don’t have to apologize,” they said, looking at that tear-stained face and wishing they could wipe it all away, whatever had happened these past days. “Don’t worry about my shirt. Or the texts. Okay?” 

What did their shirt matter? What did it matter that Ariadne hadn’t texted? Wynne hadn’t texted her once, too, and maybe because of that they had known. That this wasn’t a case of their girlfriend ignoring them, or needing some time apart — that there was something wrong. That something bad had happened to this, too.

Bad things kept happening. People kept being hurt. But why would someone hurt Ariadne? What could have possibly led to whatever this had been? Wynne didn’t understand it and part of them was afraid of knowing, of unveiling another dangerous and ugly part of the world that they’d have to try and live with.

They could barely live with the world as it was, and now the world had hurt Ariadne. Perhaps that was the most unforgivable thing so far.

Emilio looked at them in a way they hadn’t quite seen before, but it seemed clear they shouldn’t ask too many questions. “Okay. Got it. Hey, Aria? We — are you good to go to your place? Do you want to go to your parents?” Wynne tried to look at the other, rubbing some tears from her cheeks as they fought a hiccup. Then they looked back at Emilio. “No, no, please take your phone, so I can reach you, she can – she can use mine. I have her parents numbers and everything.” 

He’d make sure it wouldn’t happen again and they believed him. They didn’t have anything else left to do in the moment. Later, maybe, they’d realize that there were limits to how much Emilio could stop, that all these bad things happened even if people like him were trying to stop them, but for now they believed him. Wynne nodded. “We’ll go. But you be safe. Okay?”

—

Nothing was okay, but somehow things felt more okay now that Wynne was here. Which wasn’t fair to Emilio, but Ariadne couldn’t help her pattern of thoughts right now. Besides, she figured that when your closest person was around, things were supposed to feel better than with just anybody else. Even if she still wanted to just melt into the ground, to have everything be brought to a screeching halt.

Not her life – that much she very much wanted. Had wanted before this, and even if she’d been sad, miserable, and hopeless for however long she’d been in the van, Ariadne wanted to live. Even if He’d suggested it’d be better off if she gave up. She had people she cared about – people she loved. If nothing else, she had to make sure Chance didn’t keep getting himself into trouble, because she would not have been surprised if he’d wound up in some sort of situation in the past however-long she’d been in here.

“Okay,” she said, words choppy and broken, “but I’m - still - I’m still sorry.” Shortly before everything, the two of them had talked about the practical impossibility of the two of them always being close to one another, but now she wanted that more than anything. She was supposed to be the monster, and yet nothing felt safer than when she was with Wynne. They were here, they’d come when she’d needed them (because they were good, always), and they smelled exactly the same.

Like home.

She only halfway paid attention to what Emilio was saying, her body trying to get her heart to race from the sheer panic of wondering if He’d come back. If that man with the gray beard and cruel eyes and unkind laugh would come out to check, to tally-mark her for the day. Ariadne clung to Wynne as much as she was able, only focusing back on them when she heard their voice again. “I - yeah. We can go to my place. I’ll – yeah. That should be fine.” She’d deal with Chance’s comments if he was there. Though even though she knew the two of them didn’t tend to see eye to eye anymore, he’d still worry for her. “I just want to go to my place, and shower, and crawl in bed. Can - you - will you stay? At my place. Please. Not – not here.”

She let them pull her up, still wrapping her arms around them, as if worried that if she didn’t this would all be some sort of cruel and awful image that she’d conjured up. That she was still stuck in the van. But she could feel Wynne’s breath on her neck and could feel their cheek when she kissed them. So it was real, and she was safe. Or safe-ish, heavy emphasis on the ish. Ariadne didn’t know how long it would take until she was safe, or what she’d do about the fact that she still really needed to feed, but she’d figure that out. Somehow.

“Will you message when you’re home?” She looked back over to Emilio. “Please? I – I don’t want Him to hurt you.” That would be a whole other thing she couldn’t live with.

—

Wynne was looking at him, and Emilio couldn’t meet their eye. He looked down at his feet, at the ground that kept shifting from the forest’s dirt to the floor of that barn basement to the bloody carpet of a living room a country away. The kids were talking — to him, to each other, he didn’t know. He didn’t think it made much of a difference. None of them seemed to have much capacity for conversation anymore; not Ariadne with her trembling, not Wynne with their worried confusion, not Emilio with his fractured mind. Not a single one of them could talk right now, he suspected.

He was aware enough to catch on that they were going to Ariadne’s place instead of Wynne’s, the relief in hearing it a palpable thing. They didn’t ask him why he’d insisted they stay away from the apartment in Worm Row, but he knew the question would come later. He knew a lot of questions would come later, knew that there were things he needed to answer and actions he needed to answer for. 

(Could you explain love, he wondered? When Wynne or Ariadne or both inevitably asked him about it, could he put words to the ache in his chest that bore his brother’s name? This man is a monster, he could say. This man hurt you. This man would have killed you. This man made me who I am. How could he tell the story without damning himself? How could he hate what someone had done while still loving them with all he had?)

He wondered if he ought to give them privacy, if he ought to try to force his legs to take him a few steps away. He was hardly eavesdropping; the ringing in his ears was still loud enough to drown out their quiet conversation. Did it count as ‘giving them a minute’ if, instead of walking out of earshot, he dissociated past the point of hearing them? The question was funny and harrowing at the same time. It seemed a common theme in Emilio’s life, these days. 

Ariadne was looking at him again, and it took him a moment to realize she’d spoken. The words seemed to hang for a moment before finding their way to his ear, and he felt sick all over again. She didn’t want Rhett to hurt him. She didn’t want Rhett to hurt him. She had to know that Emilio knew something, that he hadn’t happened upon her here by random chance, and she was still… concerned. About him. As if he deserved that, as if he ever had.

“You don’t have to worry about that,” he said quietly. “I’ll be fine.” And it was worse, he thought, that he knew it was true. He knew Rhett wouldn’t hurt him the same way he knew the grass was green, the same way he knew the sun rose in the morning. It was a given, the kind of thing you understood the moment you were old enough to understand anything at all. Rhett wouldn’t hurt him, would never hurt him.

But he’d hurt just about anyone else.

Looking back to the van, Emilio felt overcome with emotions he didn’t understand, feelings he couldn’t put a name to. He tore his gaze away from the bad paint job and the open doors, tried not to think about how many times he’d slept in the same floor that had become a kid’s prison for the last few days, tried not to remember Rhett carrying him to the front seat and strapping him in after the massacre, the way he’d bled on the fabric and rested his head against the window. Her hell had been his sanctuary. Her jailor had been his savior. It was not the kind of thing a person could ever forgive.

He forced himself to look back at the kids, nodding his head. “I’ll get in touch with you when I’m done here. Okay? You go, and I’ll tell you when it’s over.” 

I’m going to keep you safe, he promised silently. He hoped that, this time, for once, it was a promise he’d be able to keep.

[ariadnewhitlock]

The Very First Night || Sofie & Ariadne

PARTIES: Sofie @sofiedupont & Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock LOCATION: UMWR campus TIMING: Mid-April, evening CONTENT WARNINGS: N/A SUMMARY: Sofie needs help finding the library. Ariadne is happy to play tour guide. Conversations in the dark lead to discoveries.

The library seemed as good a place as any for Sofie to look for some books. And she figured the local university would have the greatest selection of old books for her to select from. It was late enough that she didn’t have to worry about the sun, but not so late that there was no one around. The campus was still relatively active, and Sofie managed to blend right in to the students. One of the perks of getting turned so early in life was that she still looked as though she could be a graduate student. The only issue, she realized as she walked briskly across the college campus, was that she didn’t have the slightest idea as to where the library was. 

Sofie had a new objective: to find the first person who looked like they would actually know where the library was. She spotted a student (at least, she assumed they were a student) and made a beeline for them. “Pardon me,” She called, her shoes clicking against the sidewalk as she jogged to catch up. “I’m sorry, pardon me- do you happen to know where the library is? I’m completely lost.”

Even at night, the campus wasn’t entirely quiet, and Ariadne appreciated the fact that it didn’t look weird when she stayed out late studying. Given everything, more time to study and review homework was certainly not a bad thing.

She had an essay to finish for one of her art courses, and doing work late at home didn’t always really work. Chance was there, and even if the worst that would happen would be him remarking on how wild it was that she was up late, Ariadne felt the need to get out, and this was a way she could be out and not cause anyone else harm. “I -” she turned toward the sound of shoes against the sidewalk. “It’s okay, hi. Yes, I do - I was actually headed there myself, if you’d like to walk with me? The campus can be big and confusing, so I don’t blame you.” She offered a small smile.

“Oh, that would be wonderful.” Sofie couldn’t help but wonder if she’d been born in a different time, if this would have been her life. Classes and papers and parties. Football games and exam seasons. When she was these people’s age the most she could hope for was a job in a good household or some advantageous marriage where she wouldn’t have to work as hard. And children, she supposed. The only part of the choice she made that she regretted, even if just a little bit. 

“I feel like I’d get lost here no matter how much time a spent on campus,” Her footsteps fell in sync with the young woman beside her. “What do you study here?” Sofie asked, wondering if she could guess before she heard the answer. English? Mathematics? Quantum physics? Did this campus even have a quantum physics department?

“Of course!” Ariadne chirped, “I mean, I’m not a tour guide, so this is just my own advice, but I do know where a few things on campus are.” She paused, “or more than a few, I guess. Perks of having lived in town my whole life.” She looked over at the woman, “sorry, I wasn’t trying to brag.”

Ariadne offered a shrug, “it is a big campus. But you get used to it. I think, at least? I don’t want to speak for everyone.” She looked over to the other woman, “oh. Dance and art history. I - I just like those. I’m not sure what exactly I’ll do for a job, once I graduate.” At least not anymore. “Do you study here? Can I ask you what you study?”

She was a sweet little thing, Sofie thought as they walked along. Chirping like a little bird. Her smile was probably a bit too nostalgic for getting told about her not-a-tour-guide tour guide’s connection to the town, but Sofie couldn’t help but wonder if this was how she had been to Seraphine. Although this girl didn’t strike Sofie as the social climbing sort. “You’re fine, ma colombe, no need to apologize.” The words felt both strange and correct in her mouth. They said children turned into their parents over time. Perhaps vampires turned into their sires. 

“Someone with taste!” Her eyes glittered with amusement. “There’s an art gallery in town, no? You could work there, perhaps. Or go off into the world and work for a big fancy museum in New York or London. It’s a big world to explore.” Sofie grinned. “Ah, I’m not a student here. Just someone with a bunch of old books looking to see if the library here would be willing to make a trade. Some of my dusty old tomes for some of theirs.”

“Parlez-vous français?” Do you speak French? Ariadne looked over to the other woman. “I - sorry.” She winced. “Working on the apology thing. I’ll try to not do it as much.” Maybe she could hold off on the excessive apologizing for at least the rest of the night. She doubted that it would go exactly as planned, but it didn’t hurt to hope, right?

“Yes, I think so.” As they made their way toward the library she continued, “I could - maybe - I’ll have to see if they’re hiring, and depending on the sort of art they have, if I’d be of use to them. But thank you.” Ariadne fiddled with the strap of her bag. “That’s true - the world is so big, and I mean, curating a museum in a big city? Wow.” Her eyes grew wide at the thought, “oh - well, that is very nice of you. I’m sure the library will be very grateful. Can I ask what sorts of books you have?”

A delighted smile broke out across Sofie’s face. “Oui!” Oh this was excellent! “Et toi?” And you? The corner of her mouth slanted down into something between a frown and a smile. “No need to worry, you’re just fine.” She put as much warmth into the sentence as she could. The poor thing sounded like she could use a kind word. 

“I’ve not been in yet, but I believe the artist deals with themes of horror.” She explained as they walked along. Sofie patted a heavy looking tote bag she had slung over her shoulder. “Of course. Old ones. Mostly fiction, and in a few different languages. Dickens, Austen, Brontë… a few works of poets and enlightenment thinkers. They’re well loved, but I’ve run out of space”

“Oui,” she nodded, “la famille de ma mère est française.” My mother’s family is French. Ariadne offered another cautious smile to the other woman. “Thank you, that’s very kind of you, especially since we’ve only just met.”

Her eyes grew briefly wide. Themes of horror. “Oh wow, that’s - well, sometimes I get skittish, easily,” despite literally being a monster, “so I don’t know if they’d want me around, but it means a lot that you already are suggesting things to me.” Ariadne nodded, “that is incredible. Can I ask if you have a favorite book?”

“Ah,” she nodded. “Not a fan of the things that go bump in the night.” Ironic that she was walking side by side with a vampire, then. “Noted. I can’t say that I blame you. I enjoy the beginnings of the genre, but horror today? I will pass on the Hollywood budget slasher flicks, thank you very much. I’ll take Mary Shelley over ‘Midwest Chainsaw Whatever Three’ any day.” Sofie shooed the thought away.

She hummed in thought at the question. “Oh, I have many.” Sofie contemplated the question, her brow scrunching up in concentration. “While I adore a good happy ending- Jane Austen’s Emma for a happy ending choice, mind you. But while I love it when everything ends happily, I do love a bit of drama. I highly recommend Anna Karenina  for that. And then if I’d prefer a play, Shakespeare’s Twelfth Night. What are yours?

Only because I am one, Ariadne bit her lip, “I mean, bats are cute? But I - uh - I guess I’m just a bit jumpy at times is all.” Even though she was the cause of plenty of people’s jumpiness, given the whole being a literal nightmare and everything. “Yes, the slashers today can be really over-done. I think what I like least is the pain that it causes other people, probably.”

She looked over to the other woman. “Oh, those are all classics.” Which, duh. Not all ones she’d read, save for Twelfth Night in English class in high school. “I love The Little Prince. Little Women?” She shrugged, “I did love Twelfth Night when I read it. Also the Summer Dream one? Sorry, I forget what it’s called.” Ariadne sighed. “We’re nearly to the library.” And it was growing darker, which mean that she had to at least somewhat attempt to avoid looking at the other woman, given the whole red-eye thing.

“Oh I loved Little Women.” Sofie began happily chattering as they went along. “I remember reading it when-“ she caught herself. “Well, for the first time, and thinking Amy was a vastly misunderstood character. Did you have a favorite of the sisters?” She nodded when the girl brought up another of the Bard’s works. “Another classic A Midsummer Night’s Dream.” She certainly wouldn’t be bringing up how long ago she’d first seen that particular work. 

She looked over to the young woman in the dark and paused in her discussion. Sofie had caught a glimpse of her eyes for a moment, and how they glowed red in the darkness. Whatever the girl was, she wasn’t human. “There was a particular quote I liked from the ending of that one,” she said, letting her own eyes shift from their usual dark brown to the deep red that marked her a vampire. “Give me your hands, if we be friends, and Robin shall restore amends”. 

“Amy or Beth was always my favorite. It’s a lovely story, even if it is super sad at times.” Ariadne nodded, “yes, that’s the one. I just love the mischief and magic in it, I think. The idea of coming into another world, I don’t know, it felt like an advanced princess movie to me.” She winced, briefly. “That’s not me being disrespectful, I promise, just how I guess I saw it, the first time I read it.”

Ariadne couldn’t help but look back over to the woman - just time to see her eyes shift. She wasn’t the mare that Ariadne had created, she was fairly certain, though a part of her felt filled to the brim with doubt regarding that. “I can’t quote things as well as you can, but - wow. Have you done acting?” She looked at her, head turned just to the side - not entirely sure if she should bring up the whole eye similarity or not. “You seem to know so much about books - that’s - I’m very impressed.” She offered her a shy, somewhat sheepish smile.

She let out a delighted laugh. “An advanced princess movie,” Sofie echoed, contemplating it for a moment. “I rather like that, I think. I might have to use it the next time I’m waxing philosophical over Shakespeare’s comedies.”

Ah, there it was. That look of recognition. The knowledge that Sofie was not merely another human. Sometimes that expression struck panic into the vampire’s heart. Other times, like this one, a pleased grin spread across her face. She kept her eyes red, so it couldn’t be excused as a trick of the light. “Acting? No, no.  I’ve just read it about a hundred times since I got a copy of it in the seventeen-eighties.” No point in hiding just how old she was now. “I didn’t have the wonders of the internet up until recently, so reading was a preferred pass time. “And what about you, ma colombe, are you much of a reader?” It wasn’t the question she was really asking. She really wanted to know just how many years this girl had had to read. 

“You do?” Ariadne’s smile grew, “I’m glad you don’t find it stupid or ridiculous or something like that.” She felt more relaxed, even if only for a moment, that someone who clearly seemed to know so much, thought any idea of hers was even halfway decent.

The seventeen-eighties? Ariadne stared at the other woman, simultaneously alarmed and impressed, though she really (really) hoped that it only came off as a state of awe to the other woman. She offered another tentative smile. “Well, I think you’d be a good actor - just like, you seem to know things and you’re super pretty, so I think that means you’d be all set.” At the next question, she paused. “I like reading - but I like listening to stories more - reading during school was sometimes hard, but now that I’m in college and can sometimes choose what I get to read, I like it a lot more.”

“I do,” The young woman needed some confirmation to bolster herself, or at least Sofie thought she did. Otherwise she’d apologize again, and Sofie had not lived for three centuries to see clever and capable women apologize for taking up space, or for thinking in a unique way. “New ways of thinking and explaining things are one of the reasons civilization has continued on and we haven’t devolved completely back to the paleolithic era.”

Sofie grinned. A flatterer. Oh, she liked this one. She was going to have to keep her around. “I’ll have to give it a try one of these days,” She chuckled. “That is one of the best damned inventions. Those books you can play on devices and just listen. Completely genius.” She wasn’t completely technologically inept, though she probably would remind the girl of  her grandmother with how analog Sofie was. “What is your name? I feel as though you’re going to be seeing more of me, and it would be nice to have a name to put to a face. I’m Sofie.” 

“Well, I’m glad you feel that way, because I really don’t think everyone does.” It was doing wonders for setting Ariadne’s mind at ease. “But that’s a good point. Guess you can’t really have progress without thinking in new ways.” 

Ariadne nodded enthusiastically, “I also like it, because as much as I like learning and I like books, sometimes the actual physical reading of them is tough for me. So I’m really happy to be able to just listen to them, and you can even sometimes change the speed that they play, which is sort of extra-bonus-neat.” They were nearing the library now. “Oh - you want to see more of me?” Ariadne couldn’t keep the smile from covering her lips. “I’m Ariadne. I’d love to see you more. You seem really smart. And nice. And all sorts of other good things.” She nodded up at the library as they approached. “I’m also from town, so like, if you ever need to know where stuff is, I sometimes know that.”

There was something delightful about someone being enthusiastic, even about the smallest of things. Sofie preferred people like Ariadne- those who could find the genius in the tiny details. If you could find the beauty in the little things, Sofie found you could find beauty in anything. It was like watching a younger version of herself. “Of course- I don’t have a great many friends in town. And I take it,” she let her eyes flicker red again for a moment. “You’re a fairly young woman. I may not have all the answers for you, but I may have some.” She winked at the girl and her eyes faded back to their normal brown. 

“It’s been a pleasure talking with you Ariadne,” Sofie slipped a hand into her pocket and fished out a card, pleased she’d finally taken the time to invest in a business card. “You can reach me any time.”

[ariadnewhitlock]

Don't Go to Bars Alone || Owen & Ariadne

TIMING: Very recent, but before the Goo. LOCATION: The Wormhole PARTIES: Owen @apaininyourneck and Ariadne @ariadnewhitlock SUMMARY:  Ariadne tries to go to a bar (The Wormhole), and meets Owen. :/ This is not a slayer she can charm so easily. They talk, and Owen is Owen. CONTENT WARNING: Implication of a creepy coworker of Owen's but nothing happens. Also mentions of alcohol and smoking.

Ariadne had only gone to a bar to prove something. It was the one that Matty had mentioned, ages ago, and even if she didn’t have the combat boots or leather jacket to really fit in, she felt a desperate need to prove (both to herself and to Chance) that she could go out and do wild things, that she wasn’t some scared little mouse. Her dark-wash jean jacket and some non-pastel-colored dress would have to do the job. Plus, if she was going somewhere completely unlike her, she had to dress like she fit in. She wondered if Celene or Inge would be proud of her embracing a darker side of herself. She certainly felt more mare-like. She hoped they’d be proud. If they were, and if Chance was, then that’d make three whole people who she adored and who she looked up to happy.

Which made her happy. Maybe she’d bring Chance back a snack from the bar. If bars did that. Ariadne wasn’t sure, but she figured that was what this all was for.

She at least knew that she wasn’t supposed to knock at the doors of bars. So Ariadne just entered, and was a bit surprised when she wasn’t even carded. Maybe she looked or seemed older than she thought. Which was fascinating, considering even though she was twenty-one, she was also technically still nineteen, in many ways. The thought gave her an unusual boost of confidence and she went up to the bar and ordered something she’d heard Chance mention before. Taking a sip, she glanced around the bar, before one of the men behind the bar was talking to her again. In a way that she did not so much enjoy. Not a total creep, but there was something about him that was unsettling, though Ariadne didn’t know if that was just the alcohol talking. He’d hit on someone else earlier, and it wasn’t in a sweet sort of way. So, emboldened some combination of alcohol and outfit, she followed him out back, fingers tapping against her thigh. “Hey.” She flashed him a smile, somehow grateful for the choice of red lipstick (which she’d bought after Alex had told her to listen to Taylor Swift, because apparently Taylor Swift sometimes wore that). “You - you know you’re supposed to uh, treat people with respect. I - I’m not sure if I -” she continued, tripping over her words. “You’re supposed to be nice.” 

The man scoffed at her, though not before giving her a once over. Which made Ariadne feel all sorts of icky. So she took a few steps forward. She was supposed to practice her skills and abilities, right? That was the only way she’d ever get better? So she offered him a small smile, internally apologizing in her head to Wynne, who was the usual recipient of those smiles. Though, with them, it was never forced. Ariadne shook her head, forcing herself to focus, before she brought her hand up to his forehead and watched him collapse in a heap. 

Being too busy at work was never fun but still, it was preferable to working shifts with Dave. The guy was a smarmy dick, harsh words coming from Owen who could usually pride himself on being both of those things, but his colleague for tonight was just… pathetic. His attempts at flirting had all the grace of a slap to the face and it was a wonder that he hadn’t managed to scare every single female out of the bar by this point. So when the man proudly announced that he was going for a smoke break, Owen was relieved for a moment of reprieve. Had he mentioned that the guy never fucking stopped talking?

Even so, when the five minute break turned into ten and there was still no sign of return, Owen rolled his eyes. The mention of a smoke had gotten him antsy for one as well and ten minutes was overkill to finish off a cigarette. Stupid fucker was probably out there mourning the lack of activity on some dating app. With a sigh that was closer to a grumble than anything else, Owen slapped the bartop and pointed at one of his regulars. “Anyone fucks anything up in the next five minutes, it’s your ass. Keep ‘em in line.” With that, he moved for the back door, ready to tear Dave a new one. 

“Dry your eyes and get inside, fucker. Break time is-” He paused. The distinct crawl of his skin hit Owen at the same time he saw Dave’s useless body crumpled on the floor, where he looked to be… snoring? Stepping outside slowly, he let the door close behind him and spotted who had to be the cause of the tingling down his back. Not a vampire, but something. “Everything alright out here?” he asked slowly, words tinted with suspicion as he took in the girl. She barely looked old enough to be in here, not that their bouncers really cared enough to card anyone. 

Everything alright out here? Ariadne looked up at the man who’d just exited the bar. Well, this certainly wasn’t at all in her plan for the night. “I - uh, yeah!” She chirped, twirling a strand of hair around her finger, wishing she had bubble-gum to pop for the added effect of seeming normal. Normal, and even a bit clueless. Which normally she wouldn’t relish in, but a collapsed sleeping guy next to her meant that all bets of everything else were off.

“He’s - he fell asleep.” Which wasn’t a lie, exactly. “Or like, fell over, I don’t know. He followed me out here, I just wanted a break for - um - something. Smoking!” Which made her involuntarily gag, but she couldn’t take that back now. “Do - why are you out here?” Which was not the best sort of thing to just ask someone, especially someone who very clearly worked or at least fit in at the bar. “I - does that door lock behind you?” Ariadne sighed. “I - I’ll go now, uh, I should go, yeah.”

Owen had met his fair share of liars, some of them decent, others very talented. This young girl was neither, falling over her words in a painful display of innocence. A less suspicious man might have let her go since she didn’t exactly give off vibes of fear and death but Owen knew what she was. Well, sort of. “Yeah, he does follow young girls outside sometimes” he replied with a glance at the snoring man, leaning against the now closed doors, arms crossing. 

“Nah, no need to rush,” he cut in as she started her attempt to run away, pulling out the pack of smokes from his pocket. “I came out here to do the same thing as you. And don’t worry if you forgot yours, I can lend you one.” Obviously not a smoker, her fingers too clean and her nose too scrunched up at merely the thought. Might be fun to see how far she would take the lie, though. “And don’t worry about the door, we can walk in together once we’re finished here.” Whatever that might entail. 

Lighting up one cigarette, Owen passed it to the young girl before lighting another for himself, smoke swirling around her as he watched intently. “So which is it? He fell asleep or he fell over?”

“That’s not very nice to do!” Ariadne nearly squeaked. “The following girls outside thing.” She wanted to shrink into herself, but now was not the time for that. Not if she wanted to hold her own against anyone who worked in that bar. She was, however, going to mention to Matty that maybe this bar wasn’t so much her vibe. No offense, of course, but she just didn’t love it.

And he had cigarettes on him. Great. Ariadne could think of just about every PSA she’d gotten at school, but she was dead anyhow, so would it do her a great deal of harm? If it got the man to ignore her, to realize that she was just clueless and innocent (however much of a lie that might’ve been), she’d deal. “Yeah, I did realize I forgot, and then I thought I’d look so stupid if I went back in, and then back out so I’d love one, yeah.” And about a whole bag of gummy worms when she got home, to get whatever taste would come all out of her mouth. “Good, yeah, we can walk in. Unless – wait, you’re not gonna hit on me, are you?”

She took the cigarette and held it to her lips, the smell making her fight against wrinkling her nose. “He fell asleep and, uh, then he fell over. Like, boom,” Ariadne half dropped her posture, before looking back over to the man. “I dunno what happened. Sorry, I mean, why.” She coughed, involuntarily. “Thanks for the smoke.” Another cough. “I bet he’ll wake up soon, though.”

Owen shrugged in agreement. “Yeah, he’s a fucking dick.” This whole scenario probably would have gone down a lot different if the young girl in front of him wasn’t, Owen had gathered, a mare. No one would ever accuse the slayer of being a pure hearted saint but stalking down very uninterested girls back into an alley definitely crossed his very blurred line of right and wrong. If Dave had been out here harassing someone instead of snoring on the ground, Owen probably would have fucked him up himself. But since the mare had taken care of that herself…

Her sudden worry was understandable, given that she’d just been followed out here, and very ironic considering that was the last thing she needed to be focused on right now. “Please. I like my women to be of at least drinking age, preferably a bit more.” Watching her fumble with the cigarette was amusing in and of itself, face fighting against the instinct to recoil from the smell. The fumbled lie would have been cute, if it hadn’t been delivered by a mare caught red handed. “Hmm. Guess he was just really tired.”

A pause as the girl coughed, body rejecting the cigarette she obviously had no experience smoking, before Owen took a single step towards her. “So, how long you been a mare, then?”

“He does seem to be rather impolite, yes.” She tugged at her hair, trying to find something – anything, really – to do with her hands because of whatever nervousness being here had inspired. 

“Good for you, I guess?” Ariadne scrunched up her face. “Also you’re not my type, either. I prefer people with – well, who don’t – who have kinder smiles.” That was the most she could manage right now, as far as retorts went. It wasn’t good, even she could tell that, but she certainly didn’t have anything more eloquent or, realistically, better in any sort of way whatsoever. 

“Yes. Really tired. There’s stuff that can make you just collapse, I think.”

Ariadne felt tense, itchy all over. She really was the worst at lying, wasn’t she?

She’d figured she could find some sort of excuse to leave, because she didn’t need or want to go back into the bar, but then the strange tall man asked her something that made her stop cold in her tracks (if she had been in a more humorous mood, she would’ve found the fact that someone like her who was cold all the time couldn’t stop anything but cold). “What? I – how – just over a year.” Ariadne settled her gaze on him. “If I was one, which I’m not saying I am, so…”

This small talk, fueled by panic on one side and curiosity on the other, was humorous but getting a bit old. Owen didn’t have the slightest interest in knowing the young girl’s type, whether it was kind smiles or goddamn tentacles. 

The most interesting question of all garnered what had to be the only honest answer Owen had received this evening. Of course the girl backtracked, but it was done with the same level of expertise as the night’s previous lies, that was to say, zero. The how was interesting to hear - had she never encountered a slayer before? A decent feat if she really had been around like this for more than a year. 

With a sigh, Owen took yet another step to close the distance between them, whipping out a knife from his jacket in a fluid motion. Good thing he’d grabbed it before the smoke break. “I don’t like being lied to,” he said sweetly, knife held down by his side, for now. “So why don’t you tell me what really happened to the snoring shitstain over there and then I can get back to work?”

Ariadne tensed up as Owen took another step toward her. She didn’t like the way he looked at her, or the way his voice sounded. That was a mean sort of thing to think, but she thought it nonetheless. 

Her eyes shot straight to the knife as he pulled it out of his jacket. A curse and a blessing that she had perfect eyesight at nighttime, though Ariadne liked to figure that even if she hadn’t, the knife would’ve still been pretty much entirely visible. 

“I - he fell asleep, okay?” She snapped, more than she would’ve liked. “He – I —” the man knew what she was, and even though Ariadne had never been all too good at guessing games, she had to figure that this also meant that he might’ve at least had a hunch about what she could do. “Fine. I made him fall asleep because I was uncomfortable.” She shrugged, still halfway folding into herself. “I didn’t hurt him, and I’d really really like to leave now.”

Large eyes focused on the knife, obviously, and as so many times before, it was a foolproof way to get anyone talking. Some people required a bit more persuasion and Owen was never hesitant to provide that but the young girl didn’t seem very experienced with all of this. Hadn’t built up a fixed attitude towards slayers. At first lies poured out, words tinted with anger that the slayer honestly hadn’t expected given how this whole conversation had gone so far. Finally though, the glint of a knife worked its magic. 

“Mm, you didn’t hurt him, true,” Owen mused, the distance between them shrinking further. Playing with the knife in his hand, not brandishing it at the mare quite yet, he finally stared her down fully. “But you have hurt people before, I bet. With your freaky little nightmare powers?” There wasn’t really a purpose to this and the girl didn’t really look dangerous but Owen knew that appearances could be deceiving. What kind of a slayer would he be if he didn’t fully assess the danger before deciding whether or not the mare could go on her merry way?

She wasn’t going to cry. Even if this tall grumpy man knew just what she was, and that she had hurt someone. “I – no. I – I don’t hurt people. I don’t like to hurt people. Ever. It’s – I swear.” Ariadne very much doubted that she was proving anything to this man, but now that she was going, she found it exceptionally difficult to put a pause. 

He made her feel tiny. Both of her parents were on the taller side, and she’d gotten that from them, but Ariadne had always figured that she didn’t hold her height nearly as successfully as they did. Though there were a whole heck of a lot of things that she didn’t do as well as they did.

“I won’t tell anybody at all that you brought a knife to work, I just – will be going.” She took a step to the side, toward the street. “Why would you say I hurt somebody? I know – my powers are bad, but I don’t think that’s something a knife can fix.” Ariadne’s eyes narrowed. “So like, stop? Okay??”

It was never really as fun dealing with these kinds, the ones whose necks constricted in an attempt not to cry, who pretended to be strong while lying through their teeth about their nature. Owen much preferred the monsters who bit back, screamed and shouted and fought for their vile way of living. At least right up until the end when they begged for mercy instead. “Ever?” he pushed sarcastically, cocking his head. “You’d be dead if you didn’t feed and I think I already told you I don’t like being lied to.”

Her step towards the street was mirrored by Owen, easily blocking the young girl’s way out. They weren’t finished. “I don’t know, kinda hard to give people nightmares that might kill them when you’ve met the business end of a knife,” he mused, holding the knife higher to drive the point across, dim lights glinting off the blade. “If it’s my job to get rid off things like you, why should I stop?”

“I’m – I don’t – I have to feed yes but I try to do it so that I hurt people the least possible.” Ariadne sighed, “people’ve told me that it doesn’t really hurt. That it’s just a part of what already naturally happens so… like… I might as well.” It sounded like a lie to her, too, as much as she didn’t want it to. As much as she wanted to believe Inge or Leila and tell herself that she wasn’t some sort of freakish abomination. “I’m not trying to lie.”

He wasn’t the sort of person she would’ve been friends with in high school. Even though she was pretty sure they wouldn’t have even been there at the same time because he looked older, and not in a nice big brother way. The thoughts, of course, made Ariadne feel horrible, and so she frowned at him. “That’s a - uh - weird thing to get paid for, and you should stop because I said please.” She took what must have been only a millisecond of distraction to dart around him, in an attempt to get away.

She was meek, frightened and hiding behind excuses that honestly, Owen believed. This wasn’t your regular undead playing coy, feigning innocence but rather, a young girl who actually didn’t want to hurt anyone. Shame she was what she was, then. Not that it was his problem and he didn’t exactly take pity on her for it, but he did take her word that she wasn’t trying to lie. 

The sudden movement was unexpected since she had so far been working with panicked talking and ‘freezing’, so flight wasn’t something he had prepared for. Of course, his only response to anything sudden was, and always had been, fight. As the much smaller form tried to slip around him, Owen’s blade struck, not aiming to kill at the moment but definitely to incapacitate. It slipped into the girl’s side with ease before retracting, now coated in something shiny. It took a second for him to recall why the fuck before a distant bit of knowledge popped up, about the energy or whatever mares had instead of blood. “Gross,” he muttered, much preferring actual blood or the clean and simple dust vampires at least had the decency to turn into. 

She tensed up when the knife entered her side, looking over at the man with wide eyes, ones that she hoped said, why would you do this? 

He called it gross and even if she found the glitter somewhat beautiful, sometimes, Ariadne couldn’t help but agree with him. She was something gross, and her hand found the cut on her side quickly, hoping that it wouldn’t have done too much to damage her, but unsure, considering she hadn’t actually ever been stabbed before. “Why did you –?” She backed away from him. “That was very mean.”

Which was a given, at least to her, though Ariadne wasn’t sure if it was just as obvious to her companion. “You could’ve just left me alone. I was just leaving.” She didn’t like how much she whined. “Your friend is fine. I didn’t feed from him.” Ariadne took another few steps away for good measure, before squeezing her eyes shut, picturing her bedroom, and projecting away.

Inge would be proud, she was certain.