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deejadabbles · 4 years ago

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The House of Anubis (Atem X Reader Halloween Special)

Part One: The Manor

One //// Two //// Three (coming soon) ///

Summary: The house was large, a manor, really. Imposing, yet striking more aw with every turn of a corner. You had never thought you'd be dragged back into the family business, but your brother needed you, and so too did his latest project. It stood alone among the trees, yet, you never felt alone when inside. Hairs prickle on the back of the neck, shivers run down spines, and hands fidget with every unoccupied moment. And the thing- or rather, person, who simultaneously eases and worsens these feelings? Atem, a man who was just as mercurial as the house itself, all smirks and light comments one moment, then lingering stares and strange musings the next. So the real question remains, will you uncover the secrets both the man and the manor are harboring?(A Halloween mini-series inspired by the show 'The Haunting of Hill House' and the movie 'The Frighteners'. The Reader x Atem themes are, admittedly, light as this mostly focuses on a spooky haunted house story, but the romantic undertones are there. Gender-neutral reader.)

A. N. Just wanted to do a little something for a spooky season, I wanted to get this done before Halloween but that's probably not going to happen. So instead I'll post the first chapter now, hopefully have the next out on Halloween, and post the ending some time a week or two after. Hopefully you guys like this and if you want something scary that's already complete, please consider reading my yugioh themed CYOA 'House of Fears'

It felt like you were driving through a decrepit, long-forgotten tunnel, vines and weeds slipping through cracked concrete and lights that had died years ago neglecting to guide your path. At least, that’s what it felt like. You found yourself once again leaning forward to peer up through the windshield, trying to find any hint of sky between the heavy canopy of leaves. The forest on both sides was so thick, that you weren’t even sure what kind of woodland creatures could wander between the trunks. And how the branches had grown to make a choppy arch above the road, you had no clue. There was some sunlight at least, gracing the road with their bright rays here and there, but the enclosed effect of this road was still a bit unsettling.

You forced yourself to lean back in the driver's seat and let out a frustrated breath that was meant to calm itching nerves. Honestly, you didn’t even know why you felt a bit nervous. Maybe it was the isolation of not seeing another living thing on this tunnel-like road. Or, maybe the stresses of the past days were still settling.

It continued to haunt you a bit, the way your heart and breathing seemed to freeze the moment you heard a calm voice on the other end of the phone announce that they were a nurse at St. Florence Hospital...and that your brother had been brought in. The nerve-wracking way a thousand thoughts had raced through your head in that second-long pause in the nurse's words was haunting too: Was he in an accident? Did someone attack him? Did he cut off a finger working with that old sawzall you kept insisting he get rid of? ….was he alive?

You had even started tearing up with the frustrating thought that you were miles and miles away while your brother lay dying in some backwater hospital- when the nurse told you that he had suffered a heart attack, but had survived.

Apparently, as your brother had informed you a frantic phone call later, he was working on his latest project when, as unexpected as it sounded, he had experienced a horrible clenching around his heart. Just to pile on the horror of the situation, he had also been high atop a ladder when it happened, resulting in a broken leg and arm; one from getting caught between the ladder's steps as he fell, and the other from hitting the ground, respectively.

Thankfully, someone had been around to call an ambulance. Even still, he was lucky to be so young, because otherwise help still might not have gotten there in time.

Seriously though, a heart attack, at his age? Apparently it wasn’t unheard of, he was almost twelve years your senior, and you were already well into your 20s. Still, it was a worrying situation, especially with how severe the heart attack had been and the doctor had implored your brother to either go back to living in the house you and he sometimes shared, or have someone come out there and take care of him until he was better.

With those as his options and refusing to abandon his latest project, he had literally begged you to spend the next few months in the quiet town of Hartstown. You understood, even as you argued with him about his seemingly nonexistent self-preservation instincts. After all, he had told you all about this dream project of his, and how he had already sunk a lot of money into it, he couldn’t abandon it now. So here you were, in a town that had two restaurants but only one gas station, and driving through a forest so thick you were sure the sky could turn to nightfall without you even realizing it.

Your brother had sent you pictures about the hundred-year-old manor, gushing in texts about how he was going to make it beautiful again, then turn around and sell it to some rich yuppy who wanted a lavish country getaway. It really was a beautiful place, years of neglect not doing much to tarnish its splendor or the possibilities you could see in it. Then again, you had always appreciated old houses, you and your big brother had grown up in numerous ones.

Your parents had made their living flipping houses, especially restoring old ones to their original glory and big brother slipped into the business with ease, genuinely finding it to be his own passion. That made things easier after the accident, in a way, he had taken on their legacy with pride. You had tried too, for a while, years of helping your parents giving you most of the experience you needed, but you just didn’t take to it the way he did. He understood, and handled the family business on his own while you pursued your own wants and dreams.

Still, your history with the business made this decision much easier. The day you arrived in Hartstown, thoroughly scolded your brother for his poor health, and announced your plan, he had insisted that you didn’t have to do this, that the house could wait until he was better, and that he hadn’t dragged you out there to pull you back into the family business. You had waved off the insistence with ease; it wasn’t like you actually planned to spend all of the coming months just driving him to physical therapy and keeping his airbnb clean.

You had spent the first week here by your brother's side almost constantly. Apparently, the first week or two was the typical window of danger where other complications would make themselves known. But, now that that window was passing and you personally saw how well your brother was already doing, it was time to get to work.

You frowned down at the directions he had given you; surely you hadn't already passed the old street sign reading 'longhorn drive', right? No, you were far too attentive for that, desperate to get off this road and looking for your escape. The map app on your phone was useless, cell service being spotty at best on this road, as he had warned you.

At least when you made this turn it was only one mile until you got to this infamous manor.

Ah! There at last, you saw the oldest road sign you had ever seen, nailed to a wooden post at the corner of a turn that went into a road even more narrow than the one you were on. At least the trees seem to thin out a bit here, hopefully it would make you feel less trapped in the last leg of the drive.

It did, especially as the trees continued to get thinner and more spacious, the sun shining on the road like a guide. With that, the drive didn’t take long at all and before you knew it you were coming up on the iron gates you’d seen in your brother’s many pictures. They were open of course, the EMTs having other priorities as they rushed him out of the house, so you didn’t bother slowing down much as you made the turn. The gates were in good shape, one of the few things that wouldn’t need replacing and the wrought iron fence accompanying it wasn’t far behind in condition. The dirt driveway was narrow and weed-infested and you made a mental note to ask if some stylish cobble stone was in your brother's budget. There were more trees, tall ones that only let you catch glimpse of the house at first, but soon enough the dirt path ended, and the house crept into view on your left.

Pictures didn’t do it justice. It was a true mansion, made of stone, three stories high with turrets on the front corners, a wide oak front door, and spacious grounds on all sides. It’s style was rather unique, almost combining gothic elements such as many tall arching windows and at least two verandas and balconies, with craftsman style roofs and the first floor sitting high above the ground. It had been built in the 1920s, but apparently, the architect liked the styles of decades prior.

The faded wooden sign beside the grand front steps read: The House of Anubis.

Anubis, the Ancient Egyptian god of death and the afterlife if you remembered right. You felt silly for it, but the name made you a bit uneasy- who would basically say their house was a gate to the afterlife? The Egyptian references did make sense though, the manor was built by an archeologist and professor who made it big during that hayday of excavations and exhibitions.

Eager to get started, despite the odd name of the place, you parked the car, killed the engine, and climbed out onto the still tall and weedy grass. The steps were those old narrow kind that made one feel unsteady, and that feeling wasn’t helped by the fact that they had several splits and cracks in them, even pulling apart where the oldest fractures lay. At least the stairs themselves weren’t anything special, shouldn’t be that costly to replace.

You were tempted to walk along the veranda first, taking in the golden and white tiles and worn down furniture that had only recently been set back into place. You could picture it now: sitting on the wicker loveseat, tea or coffee in one hand and book in another, occasionally lifting your gaze from the pages to stare out at the garden or forest without a care, feeling the cool breeze cross over your face just enough to soothe but shielded enough not to be bothered.

You shook your head, chucking at your own day dream, you really should just head inside first, there’d be time to wander later.

The front door was at least closed, but again, the EMTs wouldn’t have exactly been concerned with locking it on their way out, so you didn’t even have to use the key big brother gave you. The door creaked in a loud croone when you pushed it open and before you was an entry hall unlike any you had seen before. You almost did a double-take, wondering if ‘The House of Anubis’ had transported you to a pharaoh’s tomb. The walls were a bright pale color, almost like sandstone but with a more golden tint, and portraits of Egyptian people and hieroglyphs wrapped around the room. The wallpaper wasn’t too busy or cluttered though, the depictions of people spreading out just enough so one’s eyes wouldn’t be overwhelmed when looking at them. There were two pillars beside the grand staircase and more ancient patterns were painted on them. Some chairs, tables, and even a sofa sat along the walls, again in that style befitting a king’s resting place.

How had none of this been stolen or vandalized over the years? Your brother had told you that the manor was fairly well known in town, even though no one had lived in it for over ten years. Surely bored teenagers would have come knocking, it was odd to find any furnishings at all in houses such as these, but especially not ones in such good condition.

You had to shake off that uneasy feeling again, deciding not to look a gift horse in the mouth and moving on. Though, only after you shut and locked the front door behind you, finding yourself just a bit paranoid now.

After allowing yourself a moment to study the beautiful depictions of what you knew must be a goddess on the wall, you moved on to the tall pocket doors standing open on the left. This would be the drawing or receiving room and, as you had expected, you saw that big brother had set up his base of operations here. His workbench and draft table sat in the center or the large room, tools and even some lumber scattered about. As you approached the draft table you took note that this room followed a more Victorian look instead of the Egyptian tomb style: rosy wallpaper, a beautiful fireplace framed in dark wood, and a thick but faded rug spanning most of the hardwood floor.

The floorplans for the house were laid out on the table, pinned together with a clear sheet of plastic between each floor. As usual, the plastic was there so your brother could mark and note areas that needed repairs without damaging the actual floor plans. Currently the plans for the first floor were lifted, hanging off the table and opening the second floor plans for viewing. He had checkmarks beside a few of the notes, the repairs that had needed his attention first like plumbing issues and checking for mold. It was the same for the other two floors, as you saw when you flipped the pages; big brother had been busy in the six weeks he’d owned the place.

After scanning the blueprints thoroughly enough that you felt comfortable wandering through the house, you stepped back, deciding to check on some of those repairs he’d already made. Before you left the room, though, you almost tripped on a familiar device: his old boombox. Of course, he never worked on a house without it and you couldn’t deny the comfort of having music play while you worked. He even had his massive CD case propped up beside it, but you took a chance with whatever disk was already in there and pressed play before heading out of the room.

Some 80’s pop music echoed off the old walls as you wandered into the next area, the conservatory. Again you were left in shock with how well-intact the room was, only have two panes in its all-glass wall broken and your jaw actually dropped at the plants bursting to life around you. Most were likely weeds by now, but you still appreciated the timeless beauty, which was only accompanied by some more wicker chairs, delicate tables, and two statues sitting in the far corners. One was of a goddess, Isis, if you had to take a guess, and her companion was a god, maybe Ra, both made of onyx colored stone and painted with gold and turquoise that must have once been bright and shining. You would definitely have to map out how to return the status to their original glory once more urgent repairs were made.

Unfortunately the conservatory was only a bridge to your destination, as the double glass doors on the other side of the room led to the study. This was a room made of dark woods and moody red wallpaper. Mahogany desks and leather chairs would be right at home here, if it wasn’t for the fact that some animals had found their way in and made nests. You nodded in approval at big brother’s work, almost no sign of the nests remaining besides some scratch marks on the wood floor and walls that could be sanded down and covered at a later date. The door had also been replaced, it’s shattered panes the reason why animals had found their way inside in the first place. You were just making to cross the room to the next door- when a sound clattered not an inch away!

You choked back a gasp, then scolded yourself a second later. No, not a clatter, just your ring tone.

Shaking your head, you took your phone out of your pocket and answered it. “Please don’t tell me you’ve broken something else?” you said in place of a greeting.

“Oooh you’re so funny,” mocked the familiar voice on the other end, “Just taking my hour rest so my heart doesn’t give out, thought I’d check in on you. You got to the house okay right?”

“Yup, though that one road with the thick-ass trees went on for forever. You sure there’s not a faster route here?”

“Nope. As it is those roads are mostly just used by farmers going into town, we’re lucky it’s as direct to the house as it is.” Your brother paused for a moment before saying, “So, what do you think? Pictures don’t do it justice, right?”

“Definitely, this tomb robber really knew how to build a house, some rich history enthusiast is going to love it once we’re done.”

“I still wish you would have waited 'til I could come with you, I wanted to see the look of awe and wonder on your face,” he said with a sigh that was far too dramatic for the topic.

“Dude, they’re having you do an hour of physical therapy for each injury you managed to collect. I am not sitting around doing nothing for three hours three times a week.”

Honestly, it still shocked you how much they were putting on your brother’s recovery, when your uncle had had his heart attack, they only made him attend hour-long sessions of physical therapy. Maybe they expected more out of a younger specimen.

“Besides, with the chair they gave you it’d be really hard to get you into the house, at least until I can set up a temp ramp,” you pressed on, thinking of the large, clunky, motorized thing he was having to get by in, hopefully when his arm healed up he could switch to an easier wheelchair or maybe even crutches.

“Yeah yeah, call me an inconvenience, I see how you are,” he mocked, “So what are you doing now?”

“Oh, you know, just checking out the rooms.”

“….You’re looking over my work to see if I screwed up, aren’t you?” he accused, a disbelieving incredulity coloring his tone.

“No! I’m just seeing what’s been done, that’s all!” you answered, voice higher than you wanted it to be.

“Yeah right,” he mocked back and promptly blew a raspberry into the phone like a proper, mature adult. Someone in the distance on his end called out and he pulled away from the receiver to answer, then, “Alright, kiddo, I got to go, more breathing treatments and a test to run. Call you when I’m done.”

After a goodbye from your end, you hung up the phone, slipped it back into your pocket, and finally finished your short walk to the other side of the study. You turned the crystal-like knob of the old door opening into the library, the next room of the house most likely to impress you. Impress it did, with its two stories of built-in bookshelves, rail-guided ladder, cozy fireplace, and spiral staircase leading up to the second floor.

Unfortunately, what drew your attention more than the grandeur of the space, was the fact that there was blood on the hardwood floor.

Oh, this must have been where he had his heart attack. The tall metal ladder that had fallen near the dried smear of blood supported the theory. With a breath to calm yourself, you approached the spot, trying to assure yourself that the stain was smaller than it first looked. Besides, your brother was fine. Banged up and grumpy from lack of work, but fine, the blood meant nothing now.

With a sigh you started turning the work ladder back upright, noting the scuff marks on the floor where it must have been when he fell. After matching the legs with the marks, you looked up, trying to figure out what he had been working on. This was the only stretch of wall besides the fireplace where there weren’t any bookshelves. Instead a tall window stood there, allowing sunlight to peek in, shining directly on the fireplace, both to aid anyone cozied up in the room to read, but also to prevent sun damage from getting to the bookshelves. It took a minute to spot, but in one of the middle panes, there was a hole and spider-web cracks in the glass, he must have been trying to patch the hole with a temporary cover.

You made a note to get on that yourself after you cleaned up the blood, and began turning away, but something else caught your eye.

You squinted, peering up at the flowery wallpaper beside the window. There, just a hand-span from the broken window pane...were those tears in the wall-

“Hello.”

You let out a yell that bordered on a scream, clutching your heart as you spun around at the deep voice.

A man, a young man, stood leaning against the fireplace, taking in your startled terror with a raised brow. When had he..?!

“Where did you come from?” you demanded between still thundering heartbeats. “Who are you?”

Something flickered in the stranger’s violet eyes, “Apologies, I did not mean to scare you.” He shrugged off of the fireplace, tucking his hands into the pockets of his dark pants. “My name is Atem, and you are?”

Now that your heart was finally starting to settle, you straightened a bit before giving him your name. “How did you get in here?” was the next question on your lips, the words still a bit snippy.

He paused a moment, eyes narrowing just a bit, as if your verbal approach greatly intrigued him. “The front door was open. Again, I apologize, I suppose I got too used to coming in of my own accord while your brother has been here.”

“You know my brother?”

He closed his eyes with his short nod, “Yes. In Fact, I’ve been worried about him. When I saw your car I was hoping you would tell me...is he alright?” The stranger- Atem, flicked his gaze to the bloodstain, something darkening in his eyes. “I was the one who called for help, but I haven’t heard any news of his health. I was worried.”

You didn’t answer, not right away. You thought about just pressing on with your questions but, the look in Atem’s eyes, the way his brows pulled down low, really did say that he was being truthful about his worry. Besides, wasn’t it nearly impossible to get word from the hospital unless you were related to the patient? Made sense that he hadn’t heard any news.

“He’s a bit beaten up, but alive. He’s actually doing pretty well considering how bad his injuries were,” you answered eventually, and were satisfied when Atem’s expression visibly softened at the news, relieved. “He said he was lucky that a friend started making the habit of dropping by the house to keep him company, I guess you’re that friend,” you hesitated again, somehow finding it impossible to let go of that last thread of suspicion you felt around this man. Still, you managed an honest, “Thank you. You saved his life, doctors said that even being as young as he is, he still might not have made it if they got here any later.”

Something shifted in Atem’s eyes again, something dark casting over them and he only held your gaze a moment before his eyes drifted up to the top of the ladder where you had been staring. “I only wish I could have gotten here before it happened.”

An odd statement, you thought, your brother would have had the heart attack regardless of someone being there. Well, maybe Atem just meant he wished he’d been here to see the signs of the attack before it caused the dummy to fall off that damn ladder.

Atem blinked then, as if remembering himself. He straightened and looked back at you with a small, polite smile. “I’m glad he’s alright though. Are you here to take over the manor’s renovations? Or, are you taking him home to recuperate? He tells me that you and he share a home when he’s not working on his latest project.”

You gave a dramatic sigh, “We do, it was the house our parents left for us, but he hardly ever stays there. And unfortunately I couldn’t convince him to recover there so, your first assumption is correct. Between keeping an eye on him, I’ll be taking over all of this-” you waved your hands to encompass the room and the house beyond, “-until he gets better.”

You noted how the friendly smile slowly slipped from Atem’s lips as you answered, and now he was almost frowning even as he nodded. “He has an almost admirable dedication to this house. At least he isn’t insisting on working himself just yet.”

“He has a dedication to every house he works on,” you said, almost absentminded and when Atem’s brow lifted in yet another silent question, you shook your head to clear your thoughts. “He’s just like that with every place he buys. Our parents taught us to see the hidden beauty in all houses, and how restoring them was a kind of...I don’t know, a kindness?- That’s not the right word. They used to say houses could love a resident just as much as the resident can love a house, and how, if it’s fallen apart or been abandoned, it withers like a plant without sunlight. Renovating it- restoring it, is like breathing life back into it, so it can properly love its next resident.”

The moment the small lament was out you found yourself flushing, especially at the way the corner of Atem’s lips quirked up and his eyes softened a bit.

You cleared your throat, “Sorry, just...I haven’t worked on a house with him in a long time. Brings back memories.”

“I understand,” Atem said, the other corner of his mouth lifting to another light smile. “You both get the same look in your eyes when you talk about homes like this. It’s quite lovely.”

The heat in your face flared up even more, and you cleared your throat again before turning, looking at the library at large. “Anyway I uh- better continue my tour of the house,” you took a step towards the door opposite the one you’d entered, then, “you can walk with me, if you want.”

The offer surprised you a bit, despite having said it. Much like the oddness of Atem’s sudden appearance, the mix of feelings you felt around him was a bit baffling. You still felt a slight uneasiness, one you hadn’t been able to shake completely since he first startled you. Despite that, however, you didn’t feel particularly endangered by him. Quite the opposite, to create an odd, almost giddy cocktail of emotions, the unease mixed with a slight need to keep the man in your presence, get to know him, work out the curious nature he seemed to exude.

“I would like that,” Atem replied simply, and took a few steps to join your side.

Together you two walked to the second of the three doors in the library, and this opened into a hallway of sorts. If you remembered the floor plans right, the door on your left was a closet, and a bathroom was on the other side of the wall on your right.

“So, you said you saw my car outside Odd, what with all the trees surrounding the house, do you live nearby?” you asked, not bothering to hide your feelings airing on the side of suspicion. Hey, just because your wariness was overshadowed by your curiosity didn’t mean you were pushing everything aside altogether.

He didn’t seem to mind, in fact, he smirked at you as you two turned the corner on your right. “I often take walks in the woods and I saw your car through the trees. Several houses were built in the woods near the manor, so staff who worked here would have the option to live closer to the house and not have to travel from town.”

That made sense, despite the gothic appearance the manor was built in a time when having servants was falling out of style and becoming less commonplace, even among the wealthy. The professor who built the house might have had a cook and housekeeper, maybe even a butler, but not anything so fancy as to need live-in help. You could see the modest little houses in your mind now, but somehow, the idea of Atem cloistered up in one didn’t seem to fit quite right.

“So those houses aren’t part of the estate?” you asked as you two entered a longer, more narrow hallway; an open doorway on the left, and the hall stretching onward to your right.

“Not anymore. The second man to inherit the house, professor Arthur Hawkins, sold them. I think he did not want the hassle of upkeeping the rental properties.”

Choosing the doorway on your left, you entered the kitchen, a big, open room with white tile walls and gray floors. “You seem to know quite a bit about the house and its history,” you couldn’t help but look over at him, again making your suspicion and interest apparent.

“I guess you could say I’m a bit of a local historian. I’ve lived here a long time.”

Again, his choice in words struck you. I mean, the man looked no more than a year or two older than you, if that. Maybe he was just one of those old souls who liked to put on the air of being mature and more experienced than they were.

Deciding not to comment on it, you took some time to survey the kitchen. It was an impressive thing, plenty of countertops and an old oven fit for making extravagant christmas dinners. According to your brother's notes there was a bad leak in here that he had taken care of first and foremost, and the evidence of that was in the hole in the wall, exposing a new length of pipe and recently axed wood. That would probably be the first thing you patched up, something more simple to jump back into the family game.

“So, tell me more about the family history of the place. I know it was built by an archeologist in the 20’s, but that’s about it,” you asked as you turned around, heading for the swinging door that led into the dining room.

“Well, there isn’t much to tell. The house was built by Professor Alexander Hawkins, a man who made his wealth plundering the sands of Egypt.” The bitterness in his tone made you pause, but he continued on, “He built it with the intentions of keeping his family happy while he was away on digs, but, unfortunately, he and his wife died only twenty or so years later. Their son, Arthur, followed in his footsteps in some ways, taking an interest in Ancient Egypt.”

“Not surprising, considering he grew up in a house like this,” you added, noting the replica busts of a queen and pharaoh sitting on the mantel that looked better suited for a Cairo exhibit than a dining room.

Atem gave a nod, “Fortunately he was a bit more virtuous than his father, and made his living through more honest means. He too passed, and left the manor to his granddaughter, Rebbeca.”

Rebbeca, the woman who had sold the place to your brother. It was a story you had heard often; family home slowly losing its grandeur through the generations, until it finally passed to someone who just didn’t make enough money to afford a place so extravagant. Still, the fact that the house was still in such good condition continued to surprise you, especially given how much stuff was still here. Almost always the house was stripped of anything that was worth a dime before it was sold. Yet the granddaughter hadn’t even bothered to take the lovely dining table that sported carvings of eagles, hounds, cats, and other animals revered by the ancient Egyptians.

It was a small dining room, given the rest of the house, just big enough to fit the usual family of four and maybe a few guests. Beyond it, passed another set of pocket doors, was a lounge. Some more replicas of pharaonic treasures sat on tables and mantels, but the thing that caught your eye most were the once lavish settees and chairs, as well as the paintings hanging on the walls. They weren’t in the typical ancient Egyptian art style, rather the softer, more vibrant kind seen in the victorian era. All were depicting scenes of life that might have happened in those ancient cities forgotten in the sand; a diverse market bustling with eager shoppers looking at pottery and the work of weavers, a barge on the Nile river with women dancing on the deck and a couple kissing as they tipped their toes into the water, a pharaoh’s throne room filled with beautiful women and bowing courtiers all in awe by the king’s commanding presence atop his throne.

Not even these, the granddaughter had not even taken these? Odd, very odd.

“I thought these would catch your eye, they seem to catch everyone’s eyes.”

You jumped a bit at the sudden closeness of the voice, realizing Atem was leaning in almost near enough to brush your arm. How had you not sensed him coming closer?

He was looking over the painting of the Pharaoh’s court as he continued, “They are not particularly accurate, the colors and style of the clothes, the lightness of their skin, even the architecture is off. Still, I suppose they’re interesting to gaze at.”

“An Egyptologist yourself, are you?” you teased, even nudging him in the shoulder.

His smirk was back again, “I suppose you could say that.”

You couldn’t get too distracted, you didn’t have a lot of time left before you had to grab big brother from his therapy sessions. You would leave the inspection of the tower rooms for another day, and instead headed through the other set of pocket doors back into the entry hall.

“I should be going,” Atem began before you could make your way towards the grand staircase. “Thank you for easing my worry, I’m glad your brother is alright. It was a pleasure to meet you and... if you will allow me, I’d like to visit from time to time while you work, as I did with him.”

“That’s fine by me,” the agreement came easily to you, without a second thought. Despite his odd demeanor, you found Atem to be quite an easy person to get along with, his company should help keep this house from feeling too large and lonely.

At your reply, Atem’s expression shifted yet again, something close to interest or maybe even slight delight played in his eyes as they searched your face. “In that case, I will see you soon.”

His gaze lingered for another few heartbeats, long enough that you found yourself flushing again. You nodded your quick agreement before turning towards the stairs. A moment later you heard a soft click near the front door, but you actually paused when you didn’t hear a second. Looking over your shoulder, you found that the door was still slightly ajar. Little jerk, you’d have to remember to scold him for not closing the door properly the next time you saw him.

You only got halfway through your tour of the second floor before your phone when off, a reminder to start heading back to the clinic to pick up your brother. The clinic wasn’t in the little town closest to the house, rather a bigger town over half an hour away, but still close enough to justify you working while he was at his session. He was all eager to see you, despite how drained he looked from the exhaustion of physical therapy, and the moment he was packed into your car he was asking your options on the house.

You told him honestly how impressed you were with it, also voicing how odd it was that the place hadn’t been vandalized or stolen from given all the things left there.

“Yeah, took me awhile to get over that too,” he said from the passenger seat, fiddling with his phone in an effort to get directions to the pizza place he promised you dinner from. “I think the locals don’t give the house enough mystery to make teens interested in visiting it. Besides, there're several houses near the property, so maybe most assumed they couldn’t get away with breaking in- oh turn right at the next light.”

You did as instructed, then, “Speaking of that, who was the guy who called the ambulance for you that night?” You couldn’t help asking, you just needed to add a bit more credibility to your new friend before you relaxed around him more.

Your brother’s eyes went a bit wide, “Shit, I forgot all about Atem! I was going to ask you to find his place and tell him I’m alive. Dude’s probably been traumatized, finding me bleeding and heaving on the floor, I feel like such an ass now.”

“Well don’t worry,” you said, feeling satisfied now that you confirmed Atem’s claims, “he dropped by the house while I was there and I told him you were okay.” You found yourself biting your tongue on the words, considered for a moment, then spoke them anyway. “Something was a bit odd though, he just waltzed right into the house like he owned the place. I was looking over the library and he was just standing there, no knocking, no nothing.”

Out of the corner of your eye you saw your brother scratching the back of his head, “Yeah, he kind of does that. I get the feeling he’s sort of appointed himself as the unofficial caretaker of the house, he showed up the first day I started working on it, guess I just got used to the way he just walks in, figured if he intended to steal from the place he would have done it already.” His protective mode must have been activated after he thought for a moment, because he was suddenly dropping that easy demeanor and looking you over with his brows drawn together, “He didn’t make you uncomfortable or anything, did he? I can have a talk with him if he did.”

Again you found yourself biting your tongue, thinking for a beat before answering. “No, not really, just startled me a bit. Not used to strangers just walking in, you know?”

He nodded, easing back in his seat again, “Yeah, I get you. Atem’s a good guy though, never gets underfoot when you're working, but great to talk to. He’s a bit weird, but cool.”

“Right…”

The conversation trailed off into silence, and for some reason, even after you pulled into the pizza joint and sat staring at a parmesan shaker after you ordered, your mind kept drifting back to the strange man at the manor one way or another.

A.N. So, what do you guys think about our mysterious Atem? How about the odd house itself? Any ideas on what's going on that or how this haunted adventure might heat up? Let me know your thoughts in the comments <3

#atem x reader #yami x reader #yugioh #Yu-Gi-Oh #yu-gi-oh reader insert #ygo #Atem #yami yugi #series: the house of anubis

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ghost-at-the-masquerade · 4 years ago

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Friends in Low Places

Part 2: Tourist Trap

Rating: PG

Count: 2666

Summary: A few days after the events of Tremors, the trio stops for a bite and tour of a roadside attraction. Or: Juliette makes an excellent choice, and Zeke makes a bad one.

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“Afraid she’s never gonna be the same after a shock to her suspension like that.” Zeke sighed, patting the side of the truck as he came around. Juliette and Roscoe sat on the tailgate, boxes and bags of their belongings pressed against their backs.

“Is it real bad?” Juliette said through a mouthful of cheese-steak, brows creased.

“Well, it’s not good, but we’ll get by.” He shrugged and leaned past her to grab his own sandwich.

Juliette swung her feet, marveling at the sweeping height of the pines around them. The smell of ceders heavy in the air. They were parked in a gravel lot with nothing but half-rotted blocks of wood to mark the spaces. Back around the bend, toward where they came in, was the little food stand where they had grabbed their lunch; a weather-stained building with just two windows to order from and three friendly, stocky folk tending it. In the other direction was their next destination.

A building made of logs almost black in color, with a steep roof and its name up in gaudy, blood-orange lettering; Twinkle Cove’s House of Terrors. ‘Terrors’ had a dripping effect that had clearly been added later. It might have been a home once, but the windows and doors had since been replaced with dark frosted glass. The inside of the door was plastered with fliers for other local businesses.

Once they were done eating, Zeke led the group to join just one other small party in the lobby, ditching their trash in the can outside. A gust from the AC swept over them at the threshold, making way for the faint smell of dust and taxidermy. Lights over each display cast heavy shadows to hide the seams on the tackier fakes. Floor vents rattled in the corners.

Zeke removed his sunglasses and let them hang from his shirt collar, grinning all the while. Usually he tried not to make comments about Juliette’s stops, not wanting to influence her choices, but he loved this hokey shit and could make no secret of it.

The counter to their left was manned by a spindly fellow who reminded Zeke of a harvestman; those tiny, long-legged spiders. Dressed in a clean black suit and cloak, gloves and bowtie a rich sanguine, topped off with too-big silver cufflinks and a swirl in his hair. He acknowledged them with a nod and a flash of pearly-whites.

The three of them split across the room. Juliette went for the counter, its glass case holding an array of trinkets. Gems inset in gargoyle claws, decently realistic rats, wands and supposedly cursed objects.

Zeke himself made a round of the room, looking over the displays that you got for free. A passable piece of taxidermy claiming to be a were-badger, crafted, as far as he could tell, from a honey badger and a red fox. A tuft of brown hair that almost looked burnt, kept behind glass; the plaque described it as a trophy from an encounter with the local woodland witch. Several unsettling mannequins he couldn’t get a good look at, since they were occupying the small family also in the lobby.

Roscoe went to peep down the hallway to the right, which was cornered off with a single strip of velvet rope. When they went to lay a hand on it, the man at the counter tutted and called out in what was surely his stage voice, “Folks if you would just gather here, I’d be glad to sign you up for our grand tour!”

Juliette side-stepped over in front of the register to be first in line, a cheeky smile on her face. The man returned her a smile that crinkled his eyes. Zeke joined her shortly, and it took no time at all the register both parties.

Thus the lot of them gathered in front of the rope divide, the man in charge standing before them with his shoulders braced and hands twisted together. It was hard to tell if the posture was part of the bit, or genuine nerves.

“Hello, hello, I’m your host and owner of all these terrible delights, Terry!” He stumbled over his script with an appreciative laugh when a couple of them cheered. Moving the rope aside, he gathered himself and continued, “Stay close behind me and don’t touch anything you aren’t willing to… get attached to.”

With that and a menacing laugh the tour began. Through the first narrow hallway, with concerningly real cobwebs in its crooks and crannies, past an alcove leading to a bathroom and an office, they took a left-hand turn into a room even darker than the lobby.

As their host briefly explained; “Certain items can be damaged over time in bright lights. No flash photography, of course.”

There were the staples of places like this; traces of Bigfoot and hair of the moth-man, hooves of unicorns even. More interesting was a purple checked hood, dropped by the flatwoods monster - the holes in front lightly singed from the intense light of the creature’s eyes. Surprisingly life-like stone statues of woodland critters, victims of a basilisk. The basilisk itself, even, or a depiction of it.

“Even the corpse is dangerous!” Terry proclaimed, a finger held sternly in the air, “Not suitable for display.”

To his credit, Terry seemed genuinely enthused about each and every piece. But his clear favorite, in the final room, was most impressive of all.

This room was smaller than the others they had passed through, holding only one display. Hidden behind a heavy satin curtain, deep red and lightly dusty. Terry crossed the room with a twirl of his cape, his hands almost seemed to tremble as he reached for the thick braided cord that would pull back the curtain.

“Parents, please hold on to your children.” The party of strangers obliged for the hell of it. Juliette made a point of scooting away from both Zeke and Roscoe.

Terry yanked the cord and revealed a dark, hairy, humanoid figure. Vaguely canine in the face, with great black horns that scraped the ceiling. Hands that weren’t quite hands, but not quite paws either, with jagged, broken claws. Roscoe leaned closer, mouth open slightly. The thing’s fur was as black and fluid as ink, eyes shimmering unnaturally bright for the dimness of the room. Surely, it had to be a sort of projection, but search as the eye might, they could not find the subtle tells.

“The grand prize that no doubt drew you to this place, the lesser demon slain by our very own local monster hunter, Paul Anderson!” Terry shook like an excitable dog.

The younger of the two children there reached out. When their fingertips brushed its bent knee, a single second shattered into a thousand. The beast’s head snapped down, teeth barred in a growl. It staggered forward, knocking over the rope divide. The children shrieked and all seven of the guests scrambled backwards.

Zeke’s hand snapped to his side automatically, instinctively going for his revolver. Thankfully, it was still in the car, so the situation would escalate no further. Terry was absolutely howling with laughter.

He crowed after the little family, who were already back in the previous room, “All in good fun, all in good fun, that’s the one that keeps them coming back!”

Roscoe clutched their heart, despite being blank-faced as ever, aside the raised eyebrows. Juliette tugged at her braid.

Zeke spat out the scare and laughed. “Aw, okay, you got us. That’s pretty damn good. What’s that, animatronic-?”

Terry didn’t even let him finish, moving out of the room, “I’m afraid that’s all there is to see for now! But we always have more attractions coming, if you’d come see us again in the fall…!” His spiel continuing as they returned to the lobby.

With a little distance, everyone was in good spirits about it, though the younger child was a bit huffy in denying that they’d been scared. The family argued briefly over whether to buy anything before ultimately leaving empty-handed. Juliette gently bullied Roscoe into buying her one of the cursed spoons from the display case. Roscoe cast a meaningful glance back at Zeke before taking her outside.

Business concluded, the register rung - an old fashioned thing - and Terry came around the register again. He cast a wary, sideways look at Zeke as he went to set the rope barrier back in place. “Something I can help you with?”

Zeke sidled up next to him with a few casual, swinging steps, put on a sloppy, side-ways kind of smile and a bit of concern on his brow. He clicked his tongue and looked around the lobby as he spoke, “Awfully bold of you to be flauntin’ it like that these days. Pretty neat setup you got going on, though. How’s the monster-hunter involved?”

When he actually turned to look at him, Terry was frozen stiff, breathing in quick, shallow breaths. Zeke held up his hands, any humor dropping from his expression.

“Whoa, whoa, hey, I’m not-” the rest of his words were forced out in a gasp as Zeke threw himself aside. He turned back to find a comically large axe splitting the floor where he had just been standing. His gaze shot up to Terry’s face, wide-eyed, unreadable.

“I didn’t mean it like that!” He held out a hand even as he crawled backwards toward the hall. Terry shook his head rapidly, fists clenched in his cape.

“That’s what they all say!” Shadows shot up to swallow the light from outside, crept up the walls like thousands of spiders to dim the overhead lights. Terry jerked his arm out dramatically, “That’s what all of them said!”

The weight of those words came into focus quickly; the three grotesque mannequins, their horrified faces looking as though they’d been covered in clay, came to flank Terry. Their bases scratched the floorboards, following as he moved into the hall after Zeke.

Zeke did all he could do; scramble to his feet and try to put distance between them. The options for where he could get it were severely limited; continue on down the hall, into the bathroom, or the office. Zeke didn’t fancy being cornered that quickly. He backed away, still holding up a single pacifying hand. The walls cracked and splintered on either side of him, oozing viscous void from their wounds. Lightbulbs screamed, formless things flitted through the edges of his vision.

“Listen, I’m not here to start anything,” Steady words that simply bounced off his pursuer as they made it into the main display room, “It’s not like that, I’m not with those bastards.”

“I won’t be lied to. I won’t be taken that easy.” Terry spat. The jackalope in the case to his left sprung to life, flailing and trying to bite through the glass, dead eyes flashing. Zeke’s eyes flitted around the room for his next move.

The room dimmed further and suddenly silver flashed in Terry’s hand. A simple, smooth blade. Something clicked together in Zeke’s head, but there wasn’t even time for it to form as a whole thought before Terry threw.

Zeke’s arm shot up in defense, but to no avail. A glass display teetered as he staggered back against the wall. Pain coursed through his ribs - far less than it seemed like there should be. Ragged breaths drew through his teeth as he saw but couldn’t feel the blood pooling up under his fingers. Something that sounded like stomping was lost at the edge of his perception, overtaken by static.

Everything in the room distorted and flickered, twisted and turned sickeningly, lights searing bright before settling back into normalcy. And then it was gone; the knife was gone, both flesh and fabric mended. He palpated the spot just to be sure.

His gaze shot back up to where Terry stood shaking, eyes glistening. The mannequins were gone. And over Terry’s shoulder, he could see Roscoe, an indecipherable mess of guilt and pain and concern on their face, their hands laid on his shoulders.

“I’m sorry - I don’t like to do it so quickly.”

“He stabbed me!” Zeke objected to the apology, hand still on the spot where the knife had been.

They couldn’t really disagree, so they just grimaced and tilted their head.

Zeke pushed himself upright. “Can we please just talk now?!”

“Are you going to take me in, then?” Terry’s voice was small. Frightened. He swallowed and said more insistently, “All I can do is scare people, I’m no good to you. Just parlor tricks.”

Zeke did his best to steady his voice, “No, I tried to tell you, it’s not like that.”

But with his only defense disabled, the fear split him anyway. “Then what?! What do you want?!”

Something like guilt made Zeke’s temper flare, “I just - wanted you to know you got fucking caught! That somebody who knows something about conduits is going to see through you if you keep this up!” Zeke turned on his heel, away from the palpable tension in the room.

Terry did nothing to cut it; he stayed stock still, looking at the ground until he finally slipped to his knees. Roscoe backed away a step.

Zeke put a hand over his mouth and sighed through his nose, trying to ignore the tiny adrenaline tremors still coursing through his arms. He turned back with a suspicious squint.

“If it’s all just tricks of light then how did it hurt?”

Terry looked over to the jackalope display, conspicuously fingering the hole where his cuff-link had been, “I mean, objects can be disguised…”

Zeke’s face felt hot. Had he really reacted so dramatically to something so small? Fear had a power all its own.

“The hunter - you asked about the hunter, Anderson,” Terry twisted his hands together, “He- he caught me. And said… said I could use him as part of the story…”

The subtext settled neatly beneath the silence, like dust beneath a sheet.

“You wanted to talk, that’s where I am. He hasn’t imposed much and it’s been good for business. So what do I do?”

Many questions compounded into one. None that Zeke had the answers to.

“What do I do?” He repeated, shoulders drawn in.

Zeke opened his mouth, but all that came out at first was another sigh. “I don’t know. I don’t know. I can’t-” He walked past them into the hall on autopilot. He needed out of this suffocating place.

Roscoe picked up for him, knelt down next to Terry and produced from their vest a light purple business card. “The best we can offer is somewhere to run, if it comes to that.”

Terry took the card like it might come alive and snap at him.

Zeke heard the two continue to talk, softer now, but didn’t tune in to what else was said. Then Roscoe’s hand was on his back, leading him outside.

The light of day was blinding after the all-consuming dark Terry imposed, every bit of metal or particularly bright rock boring into him. Zeke breathed deep the smell of ceder and hot stone as he put his sunglasses back on.

“Coulda gone better.”

Roscoe laughed and put their hands on their knees. “It was not one of your better showings… I’m glad you’re in one piece.”

“Two pieces, but yeah.”

They laughed again as they straightened up, letting their arms hang loose. “But are you okay?”

“Okay as I’m gonna be. Feel kinda stupid.”

“Normal, then.”

Zeke punched their arm, smirking anyway, “Asshole…”

Across the lot, Juliette was hanging out the window, arms crossed on the edge.

Zeke looked to Roscoe, but from the corner of his eye, he could see movement in the lobby. Inside, Terry quickly looked away, the card still in both hands, face drawn. Zeke sighed. “Put it in the Rolodex… I think we’ll be back.”

#Infamous #Infamous 2 #Zeke Dunbar #that's a dumb trans joke toward the end. because I'm trans and dumb

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nikibogwater · 4 years ago

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Home Away From Home--a Tales of Arcadia fanfiction

"She was trying to make the best of it--after all, it wasn’t like Douxie had much else to choose from when he brought her here. But a creature of sunlight and nature could only stand the dank, grey-lit quarters for so long before she began to wilt. "

Nari is struggling to adapt to New York City, but her family is there to remind her where home truly lies.

The companion to The City Never Sleeps. Very, very, VERY extra special thanks to @poetryinmotion-author for both beta reading and talking me through two encounters with writer’s block. This story would not exist without her.

Read on AO3

Or under the cut:

A rundown studio apartment in New York City with drafty windows, moth-eaten carpet, and no air-conditioning was probably the last place one would expect to find an ancient woodland sorceress. Yet this was in fact the very place that Nari of the Eternal Forest had to call her home for the time being. She was trying to make the best of it--after all, it wasn’t like Douxie had much else to choose from when he brought her here. But a creature of sunlight and nature could only stand the dank, grey-lit quarters for so long before she began to wilt.

Douxie had done everything he could to make it bearable for her, bless him. He bought her a score of houseplants to brighten up the place, subscribed to a gardening magazine, even gave her the only available bedframe so she wouldn’t have to sleep on the floor (which smelled strongly of cigarette smoke and made her sneeze every time she walked in). Winter was just around the corner, and they were lucky to have a roof over their heads at all. At least she had the balcony, where she could easily soak up the sun’s rays for a few hours in the afternoon. And the plants were good company, their spirits always shining with gratitude whenever she tended to them. Archie stayed with her most days as well, and they whiled away the hours together as they waited for Douxie to return each night. Really, it wasn’t that bad, she told herself.

But she was miserable all the same.

She missed the spacious halls of Camelot castle, the feeling of grass beneath her bare feet, the smell of a forest glade drenched in morning dew. She missed the freedom of roaming wherever she pleased without burdening another with the task of watching over her. She missed having long discussions with Merlin about magic, missed the way he would pat the top of her head gently and call her “my dear” whenever he was in a particularly good mood. She missed the sounds of birdsong in the early morning, missed the days when magic could be felt flowing freely in the wind, missed everything about her life before the Order ruined it and forced her to go into hiding in this dusty mousehole on the top floor of an ugly and dilapidated old building.

Today was especially bad. It had been cloudy all day, but a dry sort of cloudy, without the promise of refreshing rain. She felt sick and tired, but didn’t want to sate herself on cheap human fare. Archie had been out all night before hunting rats and checking the stasis traps Douxie had set nearby, and though he’d made a heroic effort to stay awake and keep her company, he was now sound asleep on Douxie’s mattress. Her plants were sad today too. Some of them were getting too big for their stands, and she could sense their longing to grow more freely, but she couldn’t bring herself to ask Douxie for bigger pots. So she simply sat on the floor beneath one of the drafty windows, in the only patch of dull grey light that was managing to seep into the room, watching the dust motes drift hazily around her. It would be dark soon, but not the pleasant kind of dark, with stars shining above and moonlight stretching across the landscape. The heavy, hazy dark of a city whose lights never dimmed, that never bothered to peer into the beyond and search the stars for their magic.

She could sense Douxie was happy today, even without having him nearby. His soul was flickering brightly, thrumming with quiet excitement. He had managed to find a better paying job at a bookstore nearby, and was able to come home most evenings now. Yet another reason she couldn’t tell him she felt like she was suffocating here. She didn’t want to ruin the first good thing that had happened to him since he’d gotten stuck with her. She could feel him approaching the apartment now, sense him on the other side of the door, before she heard the jingling of his keys as he undid the magic seals on the door.

“Good evening, comrades!” He burst into the apartment with all the bravado of a knight fresh from slaying a dragon. Archie groaned and put a paw over his ears. “I come bearing gifts!” He held up a large paper sack in one hand and replaced the seals with the other. Nari plastered a smile on her face and joined him in the kitchen area, where he set his burden down on the grease-stained counter. Archie followed behind her begrudgingly and jumped up on the wizard’s shoulder.

“A new succulent for the fair forest goddess,” Douxie said brightly, pulling a tiny potted plant out of the bag and presenting it to Nari with a flourish. “A can of tuna for our resident reptilian feline.”

“It had better be white,” Archie put in as Douxie placed it on the counter.

“And of course, dinner for the master wizard,” he finished, removing a microwavable lasagna and tossing the bag to the side.

“What’s got you all excited?” Archie asked, jumping from Douxie’s shoulder to the counter in order to inspect the can of tuna.

“The assistant manager at the bookstore is being sacked for swiping quid from the cash register and there’s a very good chance I’m going to be taking his place. Which means I’ll be able to drop the part-time gig at the cafe and have Saturdays off.” He ripped open the box in his hand and pulled out the slightly damp-looking lasagna.

“Every week?” Nari asked, perking up. “For the whole day?”

“Every week,” Douxie replied, flashing her a grin. “Well, apart from any special circumstances that may arise.” He shoved the tray of lasagna into the microwave and scanned the box for heating instructions. “I can finally take you to Central Park. You’ll love it there, Nari. They say it’s like the forests back home in Camelot. We might even find a Kelpie or two living in the Pond.”

“Don’t be absurd, Douxie. Kelpies only live in Europe,” Archie said, pawing impatiently at the tuna can. Douxie merely shrugged as he punched the time into the microwave. Nari smiled and looked down at the plant she held in her hands. She doubted any park could compare to the forests of Camelot, but it might be nice to feel real grass beneath her feet again...

...Or perhaps it would only make things worse. A taste of what she was longing for, just enough to reawaken her drooping soul, only for it to be locked back in this birdcage of an apartment.

Douxie opened the can of tuna for Archie and left him to enjoy it on the counter, while the wizard dropped onto the tatty sofa nearby to wait for his food to finish heating. Nari joined him, still cradling the succulent, clinging to the sensation of Douxie’s aura pulsing and swirling next to her. Archie had an aura of his own, being a wizard’s Familiar, but comforting as it was, it wasn’t the same as the latent power of a true magic-wielder. So she treasured the moments Douxie was nearby, when she could feel a piece of the home she so desperately missed. He leaned back with a satisfied sigh and stared up at the ceiling, leg bouncing impatiently, as his eyes darted from one crack in the plaster to another.

“...We need a TV,” he said suddenly. “There’s nothing to do here. How do you two even stay occupied all day?”

“Talk to the plants,” Nari answered.

“Enjoy the peace and quiet,” Archie put in around a mouthful of tuna.

“Discuss magic.”

“Recount embarrassing anecdotes about you.”

“You what?” Douxie picked his head up off the back of the couch and shot Archie a judgemental look. The Familiar looked up from his tuna long enough to respond with a smug grin, while Nari smothered a giggle with her hand. The microwave beeped before Douxie had a chance to say any more about it, but the wizard did flick Archie’s tuna can out from under his chin as he passed the counter.

The smell of cheap microwavable pasta burst into the room as Douxie opened the microwave, and Nari had to swallow a gag. It was truly amazing, the kinds of garbage humans could eat without qualms. Douxie even looked eager as he pulled a fork out of a drawer and dug into the tray without bothering to get a plate. He gave a satisfied hum as he chewed and flopped back down on the sofa, balancing the floppy tray on the palm of his hand. Nari shifted further down the couch and tried to focus on her new plant friend instead of the rubbery cheese Douxie was winding around his fork.

“Nari, did you eat t’day?” he asked through stuffed cheeks. “There wasn’t any sun this afternoon.”

“I was not hungry,” she replied, not looking up from her succulent. She could feel Douxie stop and stare at her. “I’m fine.” She flashed him what she hoped was her most convincing smile. “Just didn’t have an appetite today.”

“You should still eat,” Douxie insisted. “Lasagna?” He offered the tray. “There’s enough for two.”

“No thank you.” She gently pushed his hand back. “I will eat something later.” Douxie continued to scrutinize her for an uncomfortably long moment, hazel eyes fixed determinedly on her face. She was tempted to shapeshift into a flower and fall between the couch cushions. But he would definitely know something was wrong if she started hiding from him. So she went back to gently stroking the leaves of her new friend and ignored him. Finally, he sighed and leaned back, digging into the lasagna once more.

“What’re you going to call that one?” he asked, gesturing to the succulent with his fork and dripping cheese onto the sofa.

“It looks like a Beauregarde to me,” Nari answered, relieved that he was letting the previous subject drop. “But I will not know for sure for a few days yet. You have to really know a plant before you can name it.”

“Whatever you say,” Douxie chuckled, stuffing another bite into his mouth. Silence fell between the three of them as he practically inhaled the rest of his dinner. He dropped the empty tray on the floor at his feet and sank back into the couch with a satisfied groan. “I’d forgotten what it was like to eat dinner before eleven pm.” Archie had emptied his tuna can by now and was lazing contentedly on the counter, washing his face. Douxie stared at the ceiling again for a few minutes, before sitting up again and summoning his guitar. Nari perked up and set the succulent aside, scooting closer to him on the sofa. He strummed a few experimental chords, and Nari could feel his magic rolling and turning with the sound.

“Douxie, has it occurred to you that perhaps using your staff for band practice could lead to magical accidents?” Archie said from his place on the counter.

“It’s fine,” Douxie replied distractedly, still focused on his instrument. “I’ll be careful. Besides, I broke my last non-magic axe on a Gumm-Gumm and I can’t afford to replace it yet.” The guitar gave an electric whine as his fingers danced on the strings, drawing a raucous melody from it that sparked like lightning within his aura. Nari could sense his ease and familiarity, the energy with which he played, but she also sensed a touch of melancholy. He’d played in a band back in Arcadia, hadn’t he? That was one of the many things he left behind when he fled with her. He plunged into a series of particularly high chords that made Archie wince and cover his ears and felt like a barrage of icicles striking her ears.

“I am still not sure if I like this ‘rock music,’” Nari admitted, once he relaxed back into lower, less screechy chords, his aura unwinding from the tight knot it had twisted into and swirling contentedly around him.

“It’ll grow on you,” Douxie assured her. “Even Archie’s acquired a taste for it.” Gradually, the music lost some of its electricity, and began to flow like water as he coaxed an ancient melody from the strings.

Suddenly, Douxie’s magic wasn’t just around her; it was inside her. She took in a sharp breath as the familiar tune he was playing opened a door in her mind and flooded her head with memories. She knew this song. She’d heard it back in the days of Camelot. She could see the city now, clearer than in her dreams, see the mother gently swaying her child as she hummed, feel the thatch beneath her bare feet where she was crouched on a rooftop, watching, observing, waiting--

“Douxie!” Archie barked suddenly, and just like that, the image shattered as the music stopped and Douxie looked up at his Familiar with confusion. Archie wasn’t looking at him, however, but was staring fixedly at Nari, who could finally breathe again. “I think you should stop,” he said to the wizard.

“...No,” Nari pleaded. “Don’t stop...” Her mind told her to stop, to retreat from these memories, but she was like a creature slowly freezing to death desperately grasping at searing flames in order to feel something besides the cold. She looked up to see Douxie giving her a sideways look of concern. “I am fine. Please keep playing.”

Douxie shifted uncertainly, but readied his fingers on the strings once more. Nari clenched her hands as the song began again. The wizard’s magic rushed out in tandem with the music and slammed into her mind, scraping and digging until all of her most cherished, painful memories were exposed. She could see the wooded glens and meadows blanketed with wildflowers, feel the raw, untempered magic drifting on the wind around her, feel the sense of home, of belonging pounding on the inside of her skull. As though from the end of a long tunnel, she heard Douxie’s soft, untrained voice quietly singing the lyrics in the ancient tongue, and hearing it again felt like wonderful burning knives digging into her heart.

Burning. Camelot was burning. She could see it now, see the blood spilt around Killahead Bridge, feel the heat of Bellroc’s merciless flames, hear Skreal’s cold cackle mingling with the screams of their victims, feel the dirt and ash beneath her fingernails as she mowed down legions of Arthur’s knights as though they were nothing more than an army of ants beneath her heel. It was too much. Tears were burning beneath her lashes, and she could feel her chest heaving, but there was too much smoke, she couldn’t breathe, she couldn’t--

“--ri! Nari!” A firm hand on her shoulder jolted her out of her vision, and she heard a tremendous crash and the sound of leaves shuddering, as though a great wind were passing over them. She sucked in a gulp of air, feeling the chill of tear tracks on her face as she opened her eyes. The apartment was in complete disarray, as though someone had come through and ransacked it. Several dishes were lying in pieces in the cupboard, and Douxie’s mattress had been tossed clear across the room. She could feel the spirits of her beloved plants trembling in their pots, and the weight of slowly dissipating magic in the air. “Nari? Nari, what’s wrong?” Douxie was clutching her shoulder frantically, his staff lying forgotten on the floor. “Archie, what happened to her?”

“This is exactly why I told you not to use your staff for common music-making!” Archie berated him, coming out from behind the counter where he had taken cover. He had shifted into his dragon-form, which meant he must have been startled pretty badly. “Your magic and your music are intertwined. While you are using your staff, there is no separating them, and there is no predicting how they will affect your environment or the people around you.” Douxie snatched his hand from her shoulder as though he’d been burned.

“Y-you mean I...?” he stuttered, a look of horror dawning across his face. Archie ignored him and leapt up onto the sofa, placing a gentle paw on Nari’s leg.

“Nari, my dear, are you alright?” She heaved a gasping sob and frantically shook her head, hugging herself and trembling as though she had just stepped out of a freezer.

“What h-happened?” she whispered.

“You’ve had a magical outburst,” Archie soothed. “Douxie’s magic broke open one of your emotional pools and you lost control for a moment. But you’re safe now, and no one was injured.”

“I’m sorry, I’m s-sorry!” she wept. “I’m so sorry!”

“H-hey...Hey, Nari, it’s alright. No harm done,” Douxie murmured, hesitantly reaching for her shoulder again. She shook her head again and sobbed.

“B-Bellroc always used to l-lash out like that a-and I hated it, they always killed so many a-and destroyed so much just because they were angry, and I n-never wanted to be like--”

“Nari, this was nothing like that,” Archie said firmly. “You were reacting to an unexpected magical stimulus, that’s all. You were not lashing out in anger or fear.”

“B-but I feel so...” She stopped short, swallowing the words that were rising in her throat, suddenly acutely aware of Douxie’s shrunken and paled aura. He was already feeling guilty for his part in this incident. She couldn’t tell him why his music had shaken her the way it did, that it wasn’t only a reaction to his magic, that the problem went far deeper than that.

“...You feel what, Nari?” Archie encouraged softly. She looked down into his steady golden gaze with tear-blurred eyes, and felt the words smash through the barrier and come tumbling out of her mouth.

“I feel so sad!” she burst out. “I hate it here, I feel like I am suffocating every minute of the day! I want to go home, back to the forest, I want to feel real grass again, I want--” She choked and couldn’t finish the sentence. She could feel Douxie’s aura twist sharply, as though she had struck him, and it sent a new wave of tears cascading down her cheeks.

“Nari...” he breathed. “I...” She didn’t let him finish. She could feel his aura pulling away from her, feel him closing off because of his guilt, and like a starving animal whose only food was about to be taken away, she lunged at him, wrapping her arms around him tightly and burying her face in his shirt, refusing to lose the one of the few pieces of home she still had. He stiffened, but she only clung to him tighter, muffling a wail in his jacket. A moment later, she felt his arms tentatively settle around her, his left hand coming up to cup the back of her head. “...Alright, easy,” he whispered. “Easy, Nari, that’s it...I’ve got you.” She sniveled furiously against his chest, wishing she was a more delicate crier. “Um....Archie, put the kettle on, will you?” he spoke over the top of her head. His hand moved from her head to her shoulder, where his thumb rubbed a few gentle circles. “That’s all you need, a good hot cuppa.” Nari choked out a half-laugh, half-sob.

“I’m sorry,” she whimpered. “I’m sorry I am not happy here. I know you are doing your best.” She felt him shrug.

“Frankly, I’d be a bit concerned if you were happy in this dustbin. I know this isn’t the best place for you, and I’m sorry we’re stuck here. But this isn’t permanent, I promise. Soon as I have enough stashed away, we’ll get a nice little place in the suburbs somewhere, with a garden. I can’t...I can’t bring back Camelot for you.” She felt his aura dim slightly, and heard the unsaid I wish I could. “But I will make things better for us. I promise.”

“Kettle’s on,” Archie said as he strode back over to them, returning to his cat form. “Douxie’s right, Nari.” He hopped up on the sofa beside her, and she felt him nuzzle against her elbow. “This isn’t permanent. You’ll be out in the sun again soon.” Nari gave a long, drawn out sniffle and nodded. “I think perhaps in the meantime it would be best if you practiced out on the balcony, Douxie,” Archie continued. “At least until you can acquire an instrument that won’t channel your magic.”

“No,” Nari said suddenly, pulling back. “I wasn’t ready the first time but...I want to hear that song again. It...When I heard it, I could see home, really see it. And it hurt but...” She paused, looking between Archie and Douxie. “...but it also helped. I do not feel the sorrow pressing down so heavily now.”

“...Are you sure?” Douxie asked. She nodded, scrubbing away the last of her tears from her cheek. “Well...I can never say no to a free audience.” He picked up his staff from the floor, and it shifted back into his guitar. “I’m not as sensitive as you are, so keep your hand on me so I can feel your aura,” he said. “If I feel your magic starting to overflow, I can stop.” Nari nodded and placed her hand on his shoulder. Archie climbed into her lap and settled there with a purr. Douxie sent her one more questioning glance, and she responded with an encouraging smile.

The chords were gentler this time, and Douxie’s magic moved slowly, almost timidly, around him. His eyes darted rapidly between the strings and Nari’s face, watching for any sign of distress. But she leaned against him and closed her eyes, letting the images of home dance behind her lids as his airy and somewhat wobbly voice hesitantly joined guitar’s. The fields, the lakes, the city, drifted in and out of her mind like friends passing by, and though she felt the ache of homesickness, it wasn’t sharp or burning like the first time. It felt...bittersweet.

Then, a new image joined the old; a boy, far older than he looked, in dark clothing, with a black cat on his shoulder, both smiling down at her as they started their new life together.

Camelot may have been her home once, but now it was gone. Yet she wasn’t lost. She had a new home right here in her arms. And as the kettle on the stove began to whistle and Douxie reached the end of the song, she felt certain that this home was far better than the last.

#tales of arcadia #toa #wizards: tales of arcadia #wizards: toa #fanfiction #douxie is an excellent big brother #archie is a therapy cat #and nari is a plant mom #found family feels

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mackinmacki · 5 years ago

Text

In My Neck of the Woods

Rating: K+

Word Count: 4886

Summary: Ruby thinks it's a good idea to take Weiss camping with herself, Yang, and Blake. She was mistaken.

Pairing: White Rose

Notes: This is day one of White Rose Week. First prompt: First.

Link: (FFN) | (AO3)

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"Aren't you excited?" Ruby bounced up and down in her seat, grinning from ear to ear. She was clearly excited. Weiss, who was sitting still with her arms crossed, didn't seem to be sharing her enthusiasm. "C'mon Weiss, it's your first time camping! You could at least be a little bit excited." Weiss sighed, slowly unfolding her arms. She loved Ruby to death, but sometimes she could really oversell the situation. This was a prime example.

"I've told you already that I've been camping before. My family took me several times when I was younger." Admittedly, it had been nearly a decade since she'd last gone camping, but that didn't mean she'd never gone. Saying she was a complete novice was certainly overreaching. Just because it had been awhile since her last venture into the woods didn't mean she needed to be as hyperactive about it as Ruby was. It wasn't even that fun for her back then, honestly. She had only agreed to go because it made Ruby happy. Ugh, she could hear Yang making a 'whipping' sound in her mind right now.

"Weiss, that was glamping, not camping." Blake spoke up from behind the wheel, a hand on Yang's knee as she drove the four of them to the campgrounds. "Your family took you to the woods, yes, but you were in a fully-stocked portable home with air conditioning and beds. That's like saying living in a house next to the woods is camping. You've never actually experienced the wilderness in your entire life." Between Ruby's high-pitched excitement and Weiss's stubborn attitude, she was already starting to get a headache. She'd known what she was getting into when she'd agreed to do this, though. There was no one to blame but herself.

"That's not a real word, Blake. Besides, that is camping! What else would you call sleeping out in the woods, staring at the stars through the visor in the ceiling? Don't be ridiculous." She paused when she heard Yang laughing, turning her indignant attention to the passenger seat. "And just what is so funny?" Now Ruby was laughing, and she couldn't figure out which of the two sisters she should be glaring at. How could they sit there and make fun of her camping experiences? She hadn't expected them to be so elitist.

"You can't be serious, Weiss. That's not camping!" Yang could barely get the words out because she was laughing so hard. Weiss puffed out her cheeks, which made Ruby poke them with a giggle. "Real camping involves staying in a tent with a sleeping bag, not a comfy bed. You sit around a fire and roast marshmallows, telling ghost stories and watching the stars from above the treetops. Sounds nothing like what your family did, right?" Hearing Yang's words made Weiss's face fall. Her eyes slowly widened as she stared at her in increasing horror.

"What... That's camping?" She gaped at Yang, then turned towards Ruby so fast her neck cracked. "Tell me she's lying." Ruby just shook her head, smiling sheepishly. "Are you serious?! We're going to be spending the weekend in a tiny tent like homeless people?!" Yang busted out laughing again while Blake glared at her through the rearview mirror. "Why didn't you tell me this was what you meant, Ruby?!"

"I thought you knew what I meant!" Ruby had known that Weiss's camping experience wasn't exactly typical, but that was why she'd been saying it was Weiss's first time camping. Her first real camping trip. She'd had no idea that Weiss didn't know that was atypical. It'd just seemed obvious. Everyone knew what camping was, right? Apparently not, as it turned out. "It's okay, though. It'll be fun! A weekend in the woods with your best friends!" She spread her arms as wide as she could in the car, smiling brightly. "What do you think about that?"

"I think I'm going to die." Weiss groaned and laid her head back against the seat. She should've known something was wrong when Ruby was packing sleeping bags for them. It should've raised some sort of an alarm, but she'd stopped questioning her partner's eccentricities awhile ago. That would turn out to be costly this time. She closed her eyes and tried to astral project herself somewhere with an actual roof. A weekend in the woods with all sorts of insects ready to take bites out of her skin, woodland creatures wanting to do more than that, and worse of all: Blake and Yang, who'd proven that they couldn't keep their hands off each other for more than five minutes. This was going to be hell.

When they got to the campsite, Blake parked the car and everyone started getting to work. Ruby and Yang pulled out the tents and started to nail them down to the ground. Blake got their supply of food and drinks out of the trunk and started hauling it over near where they were going to start a fire that night. As for Weiss, she hovered around Ruby and asked a variety of paranoid, ridiculous questions.

"What are we supposed to do if we get attacked by a bear? Did you bring enough bug spray for the entire weekend? What about sunscreen? Are there snakes in these woods? There's no Wi-Fi and I can't check which snakes are venomous. Where are we supposed to use the restroom? You don't expect me to go in the woods like some kind of a barbarian, do you?" Ruby exhaled deeply, hammering in a pike with a look of increased annoyance. Across from her, Yang was shaking so hard from keeping her laughter in, the tent kept threatening to come down when she held it. She loved her partner, though. She really, really did. That didn't make her any easier to deal with when she was like this, though. 'This' being so very... Weiss-like.

"There are no bears. We have enough bug spray. We have sunscreen too. There are no snakes either, so you don't have to check how poisonous they are-" "Venomous," Weiss quickly chipped in. Ruby chose to ignore that. "And no, I don't expect you to pee in the forest. There's an outhouse near here that we can use." For once, she didn't put any excitement into her answers. Normally she was happy to answer any questions Weiss had, but being bombarded by all those questions at once, along with her generally sour attitude for most of the ride there, had worn down Ruby's normally chipper mood. She figured that had answered everything properly, but she was incorrect.

"What did you say?" Ruby just turned and stared at her, unsure of what she'd said that Weiss was referring too. She'd answered what felt like a dozen questions without pause. "An outhouse? You expect me to go to the bathroom in an outhouse?" She was visibly shaking in distress. Weiss hated public restrooms. They were usually not taken care of well, and the thought of walking into one with coarse graffiti and shredded paper towels everywhere made her gag. An outhouse was even worse, though. It was the most public of public restrooms. Absolutely disgusting. She might as well use the woods for all the good it would do her!

"Sorry, I forgot to pack a toilet for us to use."

"The joke is not appreciated." Weiss huffed and stormed over to Blake, who had hoped that if she'd been quiet enough, she'd be able to avoid Hurricane Schnee. Nobody was safe from that unnatural disaster, though. "Blake, give me the keys. I'm driving home right now. This is ridiculous." Blake sighed and dropped down onto a large log that was next to their fire pit. She'd tried to tell Ruby that bringing Weiss outdoors was a bad idea. She'd even floated the idea of bringing Winter instead, since she was like a bigger Weiss. That kind of counted. Ruby was adamant that Weiss come with them, though, even after being warned that something like this would happen. She just had to go and fall in love with the ice queen, didn't she?

"Fine, fine." She put her hands in her pockets, feeling the keys in there. However, when her hands came out, they were empty. She knew this was probably going to bite her in the butt eventually, but the opportunity was too good to pass up. "Uh, they're not here."

"What?" Weiss stepped closer, hands on her hips as she glared at Blake. "This is no time for games, Blake. Give me the keys now."

"I don't have them, Weiss!" She did her best to sell the lie, looking a bit freaked out as she made a scene out of patting down her pants. "I must've dropped them somewhere." That did it. The annoyance on Weiss's face was quickly replaced by panic at the realization that their only way home was now lost somewhere. She whirled around and ran to the car, tugging on the handle of the front door. It was locked, though, and wouldn't give way to her. Not that she could do anything if it had. She didn't know how to hotwire a car.

"Get over here and help me!" She yelled at all three of them, dropping down to her knees in desperation to see if the keys had fallen beneath the car. Then she started crawling through the grass, trying to find a hint of silver or black that would reveal them to her. When she looked up, nobody had moved from their positions, which only frustrated her further. "Why are you just sitting there?! We're going to be stranded here forever! Girls!" Finally, after finishing setting up their first tent, Ruby stood up and headed over to her distressed snowflake.

"Please don't rile her up, Blake. I'm the one who has to calm her down," Ruby muttered as she passed by Blake, heading over to the car. She went down on her knees and started massaging Weiss's shoulders, whispering calming words in her ear. Eventually she was able to get Weiss back on her feet and over to the tent, an arm over her shoulder to keep her close. As they passed by Blake, Weiss stuck her tongue out at her. So Ruby told her the truth, then. Well, it was fun while it lasted.

Ruby was actually able to corral Weiss into helping her set up the other tent, though she grumbled about it the entire time. It sort of made Ruby regret asking her to help, and that was compounded when she looked up and saw Blake and Yang making out by the fire pit. She really needed to remember to have those two separated whenever they were setting things up. Seeing Blake's tongue down her sister's throat wasn't her idea of a fun camping adventure.

When everything was finally set up, the four of them ventured into the woods for a nice, relaxing hike. They were going to appreciate nature, then bring back some firewood to light up that night. It was as relaxing a walk as possible when one of the participants was Weiss. She was as jittery as a caffeine addict, jumping backwards at any sudden movement. Whether it was something rustling in the bushes or an insect that had flown near her, Weiss clearly wasn't doing much appreciating of her surroundings. When she wasn't yelping like someone was attacking her, she spent a good deal of time complaining about anything and everything.

"I wish we had something to gag her with..." Blake muttered to Yang, getting close to ripping off her own ears. Weiss acted like they were keeping her there against her will. It wasn't their fault she had a warped view of what camping was.

"We could use my underwear-" Yang started, only to get cut off by Blake's 'It's time to stop' look. "Okay, okay, we can use your underwear." Blake just sighed. Sometimes...

Ruby, meanwhile, wasn't feeling so frustrated anymore. In fact, she felt a little guilty. She could tell that Weiss was struggling, and this was the only way she knew how to react to the situation. Instead of trying to force her to enjoy it like she did, or become extra chipper to try and drown out her pessimism, she just took Weiss's hand and held it tightly. She pulled Weiss close to her and walked in lockstep with her, falling a couple paces behind Blake and Yang so she could have Weiss to herself for a bit. Sort of.

"Hey, it's okay, Weiss. Nothing's going to happen to us out here." She made circles on the back of Weiss's hand with a finger, smiling reassuringly at her. "Dad took Yang and I camping plenty of times, and nothing bad ever happened to us. Besides, if there is any wildlife out here, I'll protect you from it." She giggled as Weiss rolled her eyes.

"I doubt you can do anything to protect me from bears, Ruby." Though she was still nervous about walking around in the forest like this, she felt a bit calmer with Ruby's warmth next to her. For whatever reason, Ruby had the ability to calm her down when nothing else could. It was one of the reasons she'd began to trust her when she refused to extend that courtesy to others. They weren't like Ruby: they couldn't even hope to get close. She was just special like that. "Are you sure we're not going to get lost in here?"

"Yup! Blake's got a compass and everything. She can point us back to camp." Blake gave a wave over her shoulder, acknowledging that she'd heard her name. That put Weiss further at ease, though she hadn't forgiven Blake yet for pulling that key prank on her. However, there wasn't too much to get mad about for the rest of their time in the forest. They were able to collect a good amount of firewood: mostly with Yang ripping branches off of trees with her bare hands. There was enough wood for everyone to carry a handful back, which Weiss made sure to grumble about. It was 'work for the help' and all that.

They set the wood down by the pit and relaxed for awhile while the sun was still up. Yang had brought a deck of cards, and the four of them sat in a tent to play poker. There wasn't any betting made: it was just for fun and to pass the time. Yang did suggest betting something, but the other three unanimously rejected playing strip poker. Things were pretty calm for the next couple of hours, all in all. There wasn't anything for even Weiss to complain about, which was a relief for all parties involved.

When the sun started to go down, Yang loaded the fire pit up with wood and put some lighter fluid on it. Then she struck a match and tossed it in, quickly getting a good flame going. "Alright girls, let's get this cookout started!" She went for the cooler and grabbed out a packet of hot dogs, opening the packaging while Blake grabbed four skewers. Then she put a hot dog on each skewer and handed them around so everyone could cook their own. While everyone else took theirs without complaint, Weiss stared at hers as if she'd been handed an alien device.

"You want me to put this in the fire?" Weiss stared at it some more, then turned her attention to the fire. It crackled and burned at degrees completely unsafe for human skin. A small ember popped out and landed near her feet, making her squeal and fall backwards off the log. Yang proceeded to laugh her ass off while Ruby hurried over to help her back up. Of course, she was laughing too, so the gallant gesture wasn't as appreciated. Weiss 'hmpf'ed and folded her arms. "I'll just eat it cold, then."

"I'm pretty sure you'll get salmonella or something." Ruby gently grabbed the skewer and pushed it away from Weiss's face. "Just put it in the fire for as long as I do, and take it out when I do. It'll be cooked to perfection." She gave Weiss a thumbs up, but only got a sour frown in return. Seeing her eyes glance towards the fire, she put two and two together. She leaned in and whispered, "The fire's not gonna hurt you, Weiss. You'll be okay."

"Hmpf." She didn't answer Ruby, but she did hold out her skewer and glanced over towards her partner. "Well?" Smiling, Ruby plopped down next to her and stuck her hot dog in the fire, with Weiss following suit. Both Blake and Yang sat down on the opposite log and did the same, and the four of them just waited for their food to be cooked. The entire time, Weiss had her eyes on Ruby, her hand twitching every time Ruby moved. Finally, she pulled out her hot dog, and Weiss yanked hers out right after her.

On the other side, Yang handed her skewer over to Blake so she could grab everyone drinks while the food cooled down. She and Blake had a beer, while Ruby had a soda and Weiss had water. Originally she'd asked for wine, but Yang claimed that it wasn't very 'camping friendly', whatever that meant. She would just stick with water, then. With their drinks, they also got buns for their hot dogs once they were cool enough to grab.

"Ooh, the sun's finally gone down!" Yang exclaimed happily, chomping down on the remainder of her hot dog. Well, her second hot dog, but who was counting? The four of them had been eating and chatting amicably as the sun set on them, but now the dark had finally spread into the woods. "It's time for ghost stories!" She clapped her hands together, excitedly looking around the campfire. Ruby was the only one who appeared to be excited. Blake usually didn't tip her hand when it came to her emotions, and Weiss just looked thoroughly uninterested. That just meant she needed to come up with something super scary to freak her out.

"Did you know this forest is actually haunted?" She grinned as she looked around the campfire, the fire casting her face in an eerie orange glow. "I chose this place exactly for that reason. They say that a group of guys drove by this campground in the winter time. It was cold, and the forest was blanketed in snow. Their car ran into a snowbank, but it would've been easy to push it out. They were more than capable." She halted her story, changing out her grin for a more somber, serious expression. "However, they didn't. Something compelled them to abandon their car and venture into the cold, unforgiving forest."

"They wandered in the woods for so long that two of them ended up falling to the ground from exhaustion and perished where they fell. The other three luckily found a cabin to stay in, and if we went deeper into the woods, we could even find it ourselves. This was only delaying the inevitable, though." Blake was already curled up next to Yang, taking in the spooky story pensively. Ruby actually appeared frightened by the story, leaning forward with her hands on her knees and taking in every word. Weiss found it hard to believe that anyone would actually be scared by something like this, but Ruby had helped her with her own forest troubles...

"They stayed in that cabin for months, but no matter how long they waited, nobody was coming to help. All the snow made it too difficult to get through the forest." Weiss reached over and took Ruby's hand, squeezing it tightly. Ruby looked over at her in surprise, then smiled and leaned against her side. It embarrassed Weiss somewhat, but she would allow it for tonight. "Eventually, one of them died on the lone bed, wrapped up in enough blankets that it was like he had turned into a cocoon."

"The other two set out on foot, but it wouldn't be long before one of them died. They found his bones just outside the cabin, along with an extra pair of shoes. The two who had died in the forest, and the dead guy in the cabin? They eventually found all their bones when the Spring thawed out the snow. The fifth guy, though? They never found him. No body, no bones, no nothing. He walked out of that cabin and disappeared, never to be seen again... except some campers still say they can hear his voice on the wind on some long, lonely nights. They even say they can hear his footsteps coming closer to their tents. Closer, closer... Until it vanishes into the dark. He still haunts these woods today, and he's not the only one..." She stopped talking, tilting her head as if listening for something. "Can you hear that? I think I hear something."

"No, I can't hear anything." Weiss bit down on her lip as Ruby clung onto her arm, squeezing the life out of it. "C'mon Ruby, let go! There's nothing out there!" She looked over at Yang with disapproval, then realized something was missing. Or rather, someone was missing. "Wait, where's Blake?" Yang just grinned at her, but said nothing more. "What the hell? Yang, where the hell is Blake-"

"Boo." A voice came from right next to her ear, making her scream and jump off of the log. She flew up and tripped over her own feet, screaming again as she fell backwards into the grass. Ruby, who had just been in the process of relinquishing Weiss's arm, squealed as she fell face-first into the grass. Groaning, Weiss jolted up, only to find that the 'ghostly presence' was none other than Blake. Yang, who had held back her laughter the entire time Blake had 'disappeared', couldn't contain herself anymore. She fell off the log and rolled around on the grass, laughing so hard that she could barely breathe.

"Oh man, you should've seen your face! I thought you were gonna jump right outta your skin!" She howled with laughter while a mortified Weiss glared poison-tipped daggers at her. Her words were garbled a bit with how hard she was laughing, but the intent was clear. "I think I'm gonna die! Oh man, I can't breathe! Blaaake, that was beautiful! Help me!" She laughed and laughed while Blake trotted over to save her girlfriend from a laughter-based paralysis. Weiss considered pushing her into the fire, but she wasn't sure she could get away with that one.

"That was a good one, Yang! You really got us!" Ruby pushed herself up from the grass, laughing as well. Weiss turned and gaped at her, unable to believe that she was laughing after that little stunt those two pulled. That didn't seem to matter to her, though. Her eyes shined with determination to one up Yang's ghost story with one of her own. That was... one way to look at it. When she was focused on something, you could either walk next to her or get out of the way. She decided her best course of action was to sit back down next to her and pretend that she hadn't been scared out of her wits.

Ruby sat there for five minutes trying to come up with the perfect ghost story while Weiss held her hand and wished she could use her phone with the other. Someone needed to get wi-fi out in the forest. This was the current year, after all. Eventually Ruby came up with a story that wasn't half bad. At least, Weiss thought so. She sat there impassive throughout, however, refusing to be spooked again. Blake then told her own, but Weiss refused to budge. She even kept her eyes on all three of them, in case they tried to get up and pull a fast one over her.

"Alright Weiss, it's your turn!" Ruby patted her knee and smiled brightly, excited for whatever story Weiss was going to come up with. If she was expecting something great, however, then she was going to end up disappointed. Coming up with scary stories wasn't Weiss's forte. She wasn't really big on horror in general, honestly. Especially not with a heavy reliance on jump scares, Blake.

"Once, there was a couple who were very mean to an innocent girl. The innocent girl then left them in the woods to be eaten by bears. The end."

"That wasn't very scary." Ruby pouted, poking Weiss's arm. "And it wasn't long either!"

"It was honestly more like a fairytale," Blake chimed in. "With the 'Once' start and all."

"Scary Story Time is canceled."

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After things had all wound down, Yang doused the fire and the four of them retired to their tents for the night. Blake and Yang were in one, while Ruby and Weiss were in the other. Weiss had considered bringing earplugs so she could sleep through any shenanigans those two were certainly going to get up to. However, impairing her hearing when there could be wildlife crawling through the forest to maul her alive made her want to have all her sensory faculties intact. She just had to hope that if a bear happened to find them, it would be attracted to the noise those two were making and she could make her escape.

Both her and Ruby had their own sleeping bags, but that wasn't acceptable to Ruby. She suggested they put them together and unzip them from opposite sides, so that it'd be like they had one big sleeping bag. Weiss acquiesced, because it was Ruby and she hadn't yet figured out how to follow through on 'no' most of the time when it came to her. She could say no all the live-long day, but when Ruby gave her those puppy-dog eyes, she'd crumble like a house of cards. She had a power over her that no one else could dare dream of.

"This was a nice day. Good food, good stories, good company." She rolled over to kiss Weiss's cheek, smiling at the blush she knew would be there, though it was too dark to see for sure. "I know you thought camping was something else, but I'm glad you stuck it out with us. Even though you did try to take the keys and drive off without us." She laughed and wrapped her arms around Weiss, pulling herself as close as she could beneath the dual sleeping bags.

"I would've come back for you. Once the trip was over." Weiss rolled her eyes, but she didn't try to push Ruby away. She'd gotten too used to her body warmth. Whenever she had to sleep alone, she could feel that something was missing. Now she found it unacceptable if she had to fall asleep without Ruby by her side. Not that she had admitted that in as many words. "It wasn't that bad, though. I mean, besides the bugs, and the scary stories, and having to be outside all the time."

"So the only thing bad about camping is camping, huh?"

"Yes, exactly." That sounded like Weiss, alright. Ruby giggled, continuing to snuggle up with Weiss. She could feel Weiss moving in her arms, which turned out to be so she could hold her as well. That made her smile brightly, happily squeezing her partner. Weiss's skin was always so cool to the touch, which was nice when they were out in the humidity of a spring forest. It was like having a bit of air conditioning she could always take with her. Feeling very content at the moment, she searched out Weiss's lips in the dark, pressing her own against them.

Weiss was more than happy to reciprocate that kiss. She held onto Ruby and closed her eyes, even if there wasn't much she could see with them open anyway. Maybe staying out in the wilderness wasn't where she thrived, but in that moment, it didn't matter. Because to her, wherever Ruby was was where she belonged. That was completely cheesy and undoubtedly cliche, which is why she wouldn't say it out loud. Well, that and it embarrassed her to even think of it. That didn't make it any less true, though. Maybe she'd put it in her vows if and when they got married. That'd be nice.

"I love you, Ruby." She could at least say that. It wasn't hard for her to express those particular feelings anymore. They weren't sleeping in a comfortable bed together, but they were together, and that was what mattered. Maybe not to her back when she would inevitably wake up with it all out of wack, but to her heart it would.

"I love you too! See, I knew this trip would be good, and now you can say you've gone camping for real for the first time!" She nestled her head against Weiss's chest and sighed contently. "The next two days are going to be just as good. I can feel it!" Oh yeah, they were going to be camping all weekend. Well, in that case...

"Pardon me, Ruby. I'm going to go get the keys from Blake."

#White Rose Week #RWBY #White Rose #weiss schnee #ruby rose #Bumbleby #yang xiao long #blake belladonna #my writing

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lease-or-rent-to-own-home · 4 years ago

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45 Sioux Ln. Lake Worth, FL 33462 | Located in the heart of Lantana on the cusp of Boynton Beach, Florida... This 3 bedroom, 2 bathroom house has many beautiful benefits! Not only is it an investment as a fixer upper, the contract to lease-to-own or rent-to-own to me is flexible to make this investment worth your time. Unfortunately, due to the current state of the world regarding the global pandemic, I can't get it financed in my name. Originally, there was a contract between my mother, Sheila and the landlords. The house belonged to the original owner, Pamela Roach who has since passed in early Fall of 2019. The home was well taken care of but was neglected for 3 months until I moved in November 2019. The house was left to Pamela's daughter, Erica Jolly who didn't have the means to renovate or remodel the house up to standards. The bank wouldn't give her a loan and she wasn't allowed to sell nor rent out the house until the roof had been properly replaced and met city standards. The down payment on this house (an original contract between Sheila and Erica) was the roof replacement. The house runs on gas, has updated electric throughout the house, a newer AC, a newer fridge, and incredible appliances including a gas stove. The property is approximately a 1/2 acre including a large screened-in patio enclosing countertops with a running sink, a state-of-the-art (barely used) grill with a burner and professional smoker, and a whole outdoor dining room along with lounge areas. The backyard has a fire pit, a large chicken coup or hen house with double duchess doors, a plant house or orchid house, a wood shop, and a large shed. There's absolutely NOTHING behind the property besides a nature preserve, which is just woodlands and with tall fences on both sides, there's optimum privacy for tanning or doing whatever you'd like to do! The house is ALL TILE (no carpet). There's also a large walk-in closet and laundry room inside! The private master bedroom and private bathroom inside has its own private entrance from the gated backyard. There’s plenty of storage space plus plenty of parking since the front all-brick driveway fits 4 cars total on a cul-de-sac with great neighbors with beautiful yards/houses too. This Seminole Manor neighborhood (great property investment old Indian/Seminole preservation that became army or military housing) is safe, the value is here on many levels. Your large RV, trailer, boat, etc. or anything could also easily fit on the property so save yourself in storage elsewhere by parking whatever of any size in the FULLY FENCED IN BACKYARD with 2 easy access points through the large gate on one side and a small entrance gate on the other side of the house. There is so much potential within and outside of the house! We could make a great deal with you especially if you're willing to help me out charging interest to make it worth your investment as a rent-to-own or lease-to-own deal! I plan on remodeling the whole property with my professional contractor father, John. If you're interested in seeing his beautiful portfolio of renovations, let us know. Please contact Sheila if you're interested: (561) 503-8851. - Angela O. (561) 503-8851

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woodlandparkroofing-blog · 4 years ago

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escape-from-reality-reads · 5 years ago

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Advisor to Boss

Prompt #4: I know you didn’t ask for this

Original Characters

Rating:PG 13

Warnings: some swearing, mentions of torture, gangs, fighting, mentions of death, self doubt, self blame, mentions of suicide (majority of this is in the second blip tbh)

Kara had learned over the years that if she got attached to people they’d get hurt. People could say that the idea was ridiculous; that people got hurt no matter what and it wasn’t her fault when it was the people she cared about, but she knew better.

Her Mom and Sister were killed because of what she was.

Her cousin was killed because she wasn’t fast enough; her uncle following in grief.

The hundreds of kids she saw walk through the doors of the people who took her life from her only to be dead within a month because she couldn’t stop them.

It was all on her. Doesn’t matter what her comrades say.

She thought helping out the Ruby Viper members would be quick; just get in, take down the boss, get one of them to lead, and leave.

Not the case, they appointed her the boss about four months ago.

Everything as flowing smoothly, the other gangs in the area agreed with her basic ideas easily enough, and the people around the area didn’t have an issue with her once they saw what her game was. Kara was tired of running, and she decided that Woodland New Jersey was as good of place to stand her ground as any.

But there were times that her old thought processes were brought to the surface, quiet times in the night when her demons fought up with her and filled her head with worst case scenarios. Normally she could deal with it and block most of the thoughts out. She trained the people under her command after all, she knew they could hold their own.

But there were times where her faith in her training would stumble, times like tonight when she would leave the confines of her recently acquired apartment and sit on the roof of her Jeep outside the barn one of her members families owned.

Her companion, a black wolf by the name of Arrow, had left her side a while ago to give her space. A common occurrence between the two as Arrow knew what was cycling through the humans brain, and that in times like this it was better to let Kara sift through her thoughts alone for a while till she was needed.

Looking into the humans brain Arrow knew that there was going to be some human intervention needed. Normally Arrow would be able to pull the girl out of her funk, but Kara was too far gone to listen to her companion.

Molding into the shadows Arrow made her way to Kara’s right hands home, phasing through the window of his bedroom and becoming corporeal again. Walking over to the boys bed she grabbed the blanket covering him with her teeth and pulled them off, earning a groan from the boy.

—

Todd wasn’t a deep sleeper by any means, it was a trait that had saved the people in the gang many times as he would wake up when they messaged asking for backup.

Which also meant that pulling his blanket off of him was not needed to wake him.

Looking around to find who he needed to yell at for the rude awakening his eyes landed on a black mass with almost glowing green eyes. Todd took the wolf in; she wasn’t anxious nor seeming to be in much of a rush, and all she did was look at him before padding over to the door and sitting next to the frame.

Arrow was an odd creature, almost as if she was just his boss on four legs. They had the same temperament and had the same mannerisms when it came to certain things, so anyone who knew Kara could decipher what her companion was trying to do or say at any time.

Taking the hint Todd got out of bed and replaced his sweats with some jeans and shoes, disregarding a shirt in favor of saving time, and followed Arrow down the steps and out the door to his car.

“Same place as always?”

Arrow answered his question with a small bark before she faded back into the shadows.

It wasn’t the first time that the wolf has come to him for assistance with her partner, and it probably wouldn’t be the last, so it didn’t take long after parking his car and walking a small ways before he found the girl in question sitting on the Jeep hood.

Making sure to make noise as to not startle her (Which would end in a knife being thrown in his direction) he made his way to the vehicle, jumping up onto the hood beside her.

“Supposed to be a meteor shower tonight. Should’ve thought about coming here myself.”

Kara glanced at her second in command before looking to the sky. “That so?”

“Hope so, just looked it up about five minutes ago as a way to break tension”

Kara barked a laugh, placing her head in a hand before turning to Todd. “Well I hope you’re right, otherwise this will be something I hold over you for a bit.”

Todd smirked, leaning back onto the windshield and placing his hands behind his head as they lapsed into silence again.

“Arrow send you?”

“Who else would? She’s the only other thing that knows you come here.”

As the words left Todd’s mouth streaks started forming in the sky causing both of them to look up.

“Well fuck, I was hoping to have something on you tonight.”

Todd laughed, pulling himself up off the glass. “Sorry to disappoint boss.”

The two of them sat there for a while before Todd spoke up again.

“None of us would be alive if it wasn’t for you you know. We would’ve been dead by now.”

“It’s been four weeks.”

“Seven since you showed up, and that’s seven more then any of us thought we’d have.”

Kara stayed silent so Todd kept going, moving so that he was facing Kara a bit more.

“None of us can even begin to imagine what you’ve been through. Even seeing the scars and hearing you tell us about it we just can’t. None of us would’ve survived like you did let alone lead a group of people afterwards.”

As he talked Kara curled into herself a bit more.

“I know you didn’t ask for this. For any of this. You tried to get us on our feet without you as the head but we wouldn’t let you, and it was selfish on our end. The way you trained us, even in the beginning when you barely knew our names, we could tell that you cared about what happened to us. We knew that when push come to shove you’d do everything in your power to get us all out alive, and that was something the none of us had seen in a gang leader. We could tell that you didn’t see us as pawns but as people.”

“You were pups that had a rabid wolf as your leader. If I didn’t help you would’ve been dead. I couldn’t watch that happen idly.” Kara said quietly, staring straight ahead into the woods.

“That right there is why the others wanted you as our leader Kara. Your mentality about how a group should act is 100 times better that anything Jojo tried to shove down our throats. You’re a better leader than he ever was or would be, and we are going to do everything in our power to get you to realize that.”

Kara hopped off the hood of the vehicle, tension in her shoulder and she spun around to face Todd. “That’s what is going to get you killed.”

Todd jumped off after her. “No, that’s what’s going to help us survive alongside you. You are our boss Kara Storm, and we’re going to make sure that stays the case for a while.”

“And when Votex comes, and they will come what will happen to you then. What will happen to your families then?”

“We’ll protect them. Just like you’ve taught us since day one.”

“That will more than likely get you killed.”

“Even so if one of us can take down even one of them it’s one less you have to worry about. Like it or not you’re stuck with the group of us boss, and we aren’t going away so easily. You talk about Votex like you’ll have to fight them alone, but you won’t. This is too big of a battle to be fought by one person and her companion. No matter what we’ll be by your side can’t you see that?”

Kara’s silent for a minute after Todd is done with his little speech. He waits with baited breath, hoping he got through to his boss as he’s out of ideas. Most of the shit he had said was a garbled mess that barely had any cognitive thought to it, so if his point came across was a toss up. He was finally able to breath when Kara’s frown turned into a devious look that would make the devil uneasy.

“If that’s the case I’m just gonna have to make sure you pups can hold your own.”

Todd smirked. ”You got it Boss.”

“Training’s gonna be a lot harder from her on out.”

“Seeing as where everyone stands when it comes to returning the favor you’ve done for us, I can assure you we can’t wait to start.”

#fictober19 #oc #original character #Kara Storm #Todd White #Ruby Vipers #Arrow the Wolf #Elemental Irony

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alltradesentco · 1 year ago

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londonconstructionservices77 · 4 days ago

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paullicino · 6 years ago

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The Tower

The first time I saw the tower was from the highway. I don’t judge distances so well, but it must’ve been less than a mile away.

We were speeding off to some hellish department store or other, the sort that stock everything without any of it being any good, because Catherine wanted to bring popcorn to the party we were crashing.

The highway offers views of very little between concrete overpasses and pro-life billboards, because it cuts into the hills like an asphalt ravine. There isn’t exactly scenery along that route, either. It’s all condos or woodland still petrified by the winter.

The party was bad. Catherine and I dug ourselves into one corner of an apartment that we could tell hadn’t been properly cleaned for over a year and I sneezed over and over. It was the sort of place where you find the table has just been cleared, but there’s layers of dust or grime under the furniture, behind the television or around the toilet. Catherine really wanted to go because she had a serious crush on the woman who lived there, or did until she ran her finger across a shelf and showed me what it had collected.

The second time I saw the tower, I asked about it. We weren’t taking the same route, but we were headed about the same way, off to collect some secondhand furniture I’d offered to help load. Catherine said it was an old lookout tower, something for visitors to scale, but I couldn’t imagine what it would look over. It barely topped the trees around it and would only offer views of somnambulant suburbia. It was only as we were driving back the other way that I realised we’d probably been along a few of these roads many times over. I asked why we’d not seen it more but Catherine shrugged and said that her eyes were always on the road anyway. I tried looking past her during what I thought was the right part of the journey, but a thick fog was settling and the most I got to see was an ad telling me how large a foetus was after six weeks.

I wasn’t from around there, but being on the road is good for someone who writes travelogues. “Find curious nuggets of local history while you’re out there,” my agent had said. His voice crackled on the phone like he was broadcasting through an old time radio.

I asked Dani about it. She’s lived in that town all her life and knowing everything about the area is a point of pride for her. She said it might well have been part of the old state park or fairground or something. She said the place had been a huge deal when she was young, that Goldwater had visited it at some point, but that it closed sometime in the early eighties. A bunch of similar things had opened out of town and they were all bigger and better. Then, a gang of kids had broken in and burned the whole place down a few years later, leaving only the tower standing.

I said that the tower didn’t look fire damaged to me, but I suppose it must have been lucky. Dani mentioned that there’d been one of those classic, entirely wooden roller coasters close by and that there’s absolutely no trace of it now.

I couldn’t imagine anything catching light in that place. I’d watched winter crawl on like an alabaster purgatory, to eventually be replaced by an eternally dribbling, gurgling thaw. The overwhelming sense that you get from this place is of dampness.

It was Tom who confirmed for me where the tower stood, on a slight rise on the edge of where the interstate meets the new route into town. It’s dead land nowhere near anything any more, unless you count a water treatment facility as interesting. It would also explain why it’s only visible from certain approaches, thanks to several dips in the highway and the height of the shivering trees.

I loved the roof of the thing. It was the kind of mottled green that copper turns when you drench it in time. When we were finally passing by once more, I tried to point this out, but Catherine was keeping her eyes simultaneously on a tailgater and a truck that wouldn’t stay in its lane. I took a picture, knowing I only had about a fortnight left in town, but it came out blurry and streaked, all greys merged together.

Then I got caught up in this damn public reading thing and my life become some real stupid bullshit. The faculty couldn’t work out first what time of day my reading was, even what days of the week I should be there. Then some crow-voiced man from the accounting department told me they weren’t sure if the university could pay foreigners or pay into foreign bank accounts. All of this after they booked me as one of the festival headliners.

The literary festival was also where I met Gary. I have a particular prejudice against anyone called Gary, on account of their being called Gary, and this man further justified that. He began the final day’s party (which he constantly referred to as a soiree) with a homophobic opener, then started disparaging travel writers, before arguing with a bunch of us on very petty points of style. He was desperate for me to write a blurb or a quotation for his next book and he would not leave me alone.

He was also local, and when he spoke on how deindustrialisation had radically altered the town, I thought to use all the energy he was hurling at me to find out something about the tower.

He erupted, babbling about some gothic or neo-gothic thing, something probably built before the First World War, and how terrific it was, before I could properly explain what I’d seen and where. He told me I was referring to the old water tower and then insisted that there was a Victorian folly on the spot that I described. Yes, it was a wonderful civic curio, he said, maybe his favourite, but it was dilapidated and all but cut off from any kind of public access now.

I wasn’t convinced and this produced more offence than I expected. He began a flustered effort to find photos to show me, but it was fruitless. At the same time, I tried to find anything that would show what I was talking about, but made no progress either, even when I was able to get some old photos of the state park. His persistence combined with my rapidly-waning patience spoiled what was supposed to be an enjoyable end to the festival and by the close of the evening I was convinced that Gary and I truly hated each other. Still, as the taxis lined up outside, I saw him framed in the faculty doorway, saluting me with a highball in one hand.

“I’ll call you for that blurb, yeah?”

I was working in a neighbourhood café when I saw it again. It was my last day in town and the first clear day in a month, the kind of day where you can see for miles. I’d looked up from my proofs and there it was, as tiny and meek and distinct as a baby’s toenail. Its green top crested the trees and its off-white body, narrow and cylindrical, made it a faux fairytale thing teleported from a foreign, fantasy land.

I worked for a while longer before taking a walk. I went a few blocks in the direction of the tower, but the incline of the street and a few hulking warehouse conversions meant I lost all sight of it very quickly. I tried a couple of parallel streets, but they didn’t offer quite the right perspective. Then, Gary called.

“I read your essay on Anchorage,” he said. “It’s great, except I’m not sure your gold rush dates are right. Actually, a gold rush might not be the right description of it.”

He sounded as didactic as his critiques of Woolfe. “I’m looking at the tower right now,” I lied. “It’s green and white.”

“I’m not sure what that is,” he said. “Maybe it’s the top of the false facade on that Mexican restaurant? I wanted to talk about that blurb.”

“It’s definitely by the water treatment plant.”

“The tower is stone, square and grey,” Gary said. “It wasn’t part of the fair. They incorporated it into the grounds as they built around it, later. Did you know that a bunch of kids tried to burn it down? Why would you try to burn down a stone tower?”

I pinched the bridge of my nose. It was cold, the sky had clouded and drizzle was beginning to fall.

“I don’t know what that is,” said Tom, when he met me for a beer later. “Gary is talking about some sort of crumbling Victorian thing, sure, which is or was part of some rich dude’s estate. But I don’t know any green tower.”

“White.”

“The state park fair thing is brown. A sort of sandy brown and half wood, half stucco. I don’t know what it is that you’ve seen, but yeah, that guy is full of crap. Did you ask Dani about it? Hey, we can drive round there now if you want, but you won’t see anything in the dark. Unless you want me to park on the highway and then have us climb the fence into the sewage place.”

“It’s okay, I’m flying out tonight.”

“I broke into a power substation once. That was fun.”

“What happened?”

“I got arrested.”

Catherine gave me a ride to the airport and a surprise story to go with it. She said she had been dating the untidy apartment woman “against my gut’s better judgement.” Rene, her name was, and she designed magazines. Catherine had started dating her and then she’d almost immediately stopped dating her. It beat any gossip I had.

“That woman’s insecurities are a rudder that steer her away from facing anything. I could see her piloting us both into the rocks of ruin because she was so damn scared, right off the bat.”

I said that someone else’s insecurities are a reef that tears out your keel before you even get to the obvious rocks anyway, before telling her that she should hurry up and finish her damn novel so that Gary and I could call up and pester her for blurbs. Then, Gary called again to ask for his blurb and Catherine damn near died from trying to laugh silently while keeping the car on the road.

“I’ve found your tower,” he said, in that rolling cadence that rarely gave any room for reply. “And once I get a bit closer, I’m going to send you a photo. Then will you send me a blurb?”

“Where are you?”

“I went through an old pedestrian underpass. You wouldn’t know it. So, will you?”

“I’m getting on a plane, Gary,” I said. Shortly after, I got on a plane.

I landed and crawled into a taxi and the book tour that everyone else was excited about started.

I slept in a motel that smelled like sour milk, missed my alarm and Catherine woke me with a call at ten the next day.

“Gary’s dead,” she said.

She told me he’d been found at the water treatment place, face-down in the middle of open ground. His phone was in one hand, half-smashed, and the first responders on the scene said it looked like he’d fallen from a great height. She said that everyone at the faculty was very sad. I sat on the end of my bed and failed to invent a good excuse to avoid the day’s signing.

I got a text from Gary a few days later, probably as someone switched his phone back on to examine it. It was a picture message that my phone said was corrupted. The officer who called to clear up some details told me not to worry about it. He asked me lots of things I didn’t know about Gary’s agent. He said there was no tower in the area, but he knew a steeple nearby that had long outlasted its church.

I’ve been driven around to readings and signings the last few days. The weather has thickened and they say it’s unseasonably cold. I’m waiting for everything to hurry up.

I saw the tower from the road again today. I’m two states south.

This work was funded entirely by my supporters on Patreon. If you enjoyed it, please consider supporting me there and helping me create even more things like this. My Patreon also features a wealth of additional exclusive writing, diary entries and travelogues!

#fiction #writing #Patreon

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