#since im gonna be gone the latter half of the week i gotta do my weekly contribution earlier
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orcelito · 3 years ago
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Ok I finished scene 3, I'm now at 22.2k words.
I only have 2 more little scenes planned. They should Hopefully not take too long to write. If all goes well, I'll finish writing tonight
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paper-stars-and-fireflies · 5 years ago
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Asking for a friend
The second story in the Grimm Omens series! As before, both main characters are OCs: Magnolia is mine, and Omen belongs to the wonderful @splanoot​. Thanks for reading!       “I’m tellin’ ya, you gotta go straight for the heart on those, don’t waste your time with the rest!” Maggie waved her arms, gesturing at some imaginary prey as she argued. Omen and Husk nodded back, Husk holding his bottom lip between his lip to keep himself from laughing. Magnolia was a friendly drunk, if a bit loud, and it’d be a long time since she’d let her walls down like this. For his part, Omen had the visor on his helmet cracked a little wider, his trademark jacket folded over the stool between them. Scars criss-crossed his forearms where the sleeves were pushed up to bunch at his elbows. He kept the gloves on, hands resting carefully around his glass. He shook his head, a silent laugh shaking the stress off his shoulders. It was a good night. 
     “You can’t get to the heart on those until you take care of the rest.” Omen pointed out, tilting his glass at her. Maggie smirked back, finishing her glass and setting it down with a loud clack. She leaned across the open seat between them, almost invading his space - as close as she ever got to him.      “That’s what you think, mister. Hunters like me, we get all up close and personal. Besides,” She drew her words out, jabbing him playfully in the chest before leaning back to her own chair. “Don’t underestimate me just because I stick to blades.” She toyed with her snack, some mystery basket of finger food Niffty had dropped off earlier. Her other hand patted at the sheath on her left hip, one of the few she bothered with when she wasn’t on a hunt. She nodded toward his own holster. “Do you ever draw the wrong one? What’s special about it, the gun itself or the bullets or is it both?” Husk shook his head, refilling drinks, watching the two mercenaries argue back and forth in a language only they seemed to speak. Hell, if he didn’t know any better, he might think they’d known each other longer than a couple months. More than once he’d wondered if Omen had earned another fangirl.        A thump to his left and the sound of hands hitting his bar drew his attention, along with both his regulars. Angel Dust lay face down on the counter, one set of arms wrapped around his head while another pair of hands clutched at the edge of the bar. Magnolia threw an arm over his hunched shoulders, cooing excitedly.      “Angie! It’s been so long!” She said, her cheek pressed against his shoulder. “To what do I owe the pleasure?” Angel just groaned, sitting back just enough to rub at his eyes. Husk got busy making him a virgin drink - he was still on restriction according to Charlie.      “I don’t get it, Maggs.” He moaned, finally dropping his hands to his lap. She moved back, letting him sit up. The others ignored him, unamused with his antics. Maggie egged him on, moving to rub his back.      “What’s wrong sweet pea?” She asked, pushing him her mysterious bar food. He eyed it before, disgusted, shoving it back. He accepted his drink, also scowling at it when he realized it was nothing but juice and soda.      “Men, Maggs! Men are wrong. Well, one man.” He finally spat out, gesturing wildly. Maggie nodded sympathetically, sipping on her drink. Omen turned away some, subtly clicking his visor back down. Magnolia might flourish in social situations, but it was always somewhat awkward terrain for Omen, even with those he was closer with. He didn’t have any ill-will towards Angel, either, it was just… not his area of expertise. It was, however, Magnolia’s. Or least, it had been.       “Oh honey,” she drawled, arms around him still, “Tell me about him and I’ll tell you how to break that motherfucker’s heart.” She bared her teeth in a smile that belied her true nature. Angel flinched back, no matter how many times he’d seen it. She dropped it quickly, biting her lip. Angel quirked a smile of his own that quickly faltered.       “I don’t wanna break it, doll. I want to keep it.” He whined. He dropped his hands to the bar again, taking a slow sip of his drink for an excuse not to talk.      “Oh. Ohhhh. Oh nooo.” Magnolia wailed theatrically, dragging her hands down her face and wiping at imaginary tears. “My baby Angel has all done grown up and found a man he wanna love.” Angel blushed, crossing both sets of arms and turning away from her. She chased him, giggling and smiling sincerely for once.       “Look, I came down here for your help, but clearly I shouldn’ta crashed ya date. I’ll be going now.” He complained, standing up and pushing her off. Maggie lurched after him, latching on to his hand.       “Don’t gooo, babe, I was just havin’ some fun. I’ll help you, I’ll help you. Look, I’m happy for you, that’s great news!” She said, pulling him back to sit beside her. He complied, one eyebrow raised. She nodded, kicking her feet in little circles, doing her best not to wiggle off the stool. Her best friend, in love! He reminded her of her brother half the time, she could only imagine the kind of man that’d caught his eye.      “So tell me about him!” She prompted, when he didn’t start to speak. Angel eyed Husker and Omen. The latter turned away, suddenly fixated by watching the ice bobbing slowly in his glass, while the former shifted bottles around behind the counter, taking stock perhaps. Magnolia sat facing him, both hands perched on her knees, waiting. She shot a glare at Husker when she picked up on Angel’s agitation.       “Do we need to head upstairs?” Maggie asked, sliding her empty cup back across the bar. “Or maybe you need a few songs to calm down? Step outside?” She gestured to her mouth, miming smoking, then snapped, letting a spark dance across her fingernails.       “No way. He’s grounded, Magnolia. Hand ‘em over if you’re not gonna behave.” Husker jumped in, as much as he didn’t feel like it. If Charlie caught Angel misbehaving on his shift, he’d never hear the end of it. Magnolia huffed, reaching for her pocket, but Angel cut her off.       “I, no, doll. It’s fine, I just.” He paused, took a deep breath, held it. Letting it out in a short, he picked through his mind, trying to describe the target of his frustrated affections without giving it away completely. He still had a reputation after all.       “Look, you ever, I dunno, you meet a dude you’re into, like, really into, but it don’t make no sense?” He looked down at his hands, all four meshed together and fidgeting in a heap. Maggie laid both her hands over them, helping him still.      “I can’t stop thinkin’ about ‘im. I’ve been flirting like crazy, but it’s like he don’t even notice! Me! Am I slippin’ or somethin, Maggs?” He shrugged, aware of how his reputation worked against him here. “I can’t get his attention, does whatever he wants. One of those tall, dark, handsome types momma warns you about, ya know? I don’t know what to do.” Magnolia clicked her tongue, nodding along.        “I think types like us fall for types like that because our usual tricks don’t work. I need more to work with though. What have you tried? Or what are you after? What’s the issue exactly?” She asked carefully. Angel slumped a bit, still picking through his brain.      “I tried out all kindsa personas and lines and nothin’ phases him. I can’t read him! Not at all! He don’t get rattled, no matter how filthy my mouth gets or what I wear or do. I offered to suck his dick flat out, and what does he say? ‘No!’, to me!” Angel dragged his hands down his face, grumbling. Husker and Omen had turned away completely, taking up the farthest corner of the bar to give them as much privacy as they could with the open floorplan. Angel lowered his voice, leaning closer to his friend.       “Those eyes, and that smile. Maggs, I didn’t even know I was into suits!” Angel complained, taking a drag from his drink before sticking his tongue out. “Too sweet, Husk.” Angel called out louder, trying to cover his whispering, maybe, or dismiss the tension he’d created. Husk nodded as if he cared, refilling Omen’s drink without looking. Maggie held her chin, thumb tracing her lips, fingertips pressed into her cheek, studying Angel. Finally, she spoke, though it was barely a whisper.       “Angie…. Are you… In love with..Al-?” Immediately Angel lunged at her, almost tackling her out of the chair, trying to cut off the demon’s name. She grabbed his wrists on reflex, springing to her feet and throwing him into a headlock. He coughed, reaching for her side with a free hand.       “Easy tiger, save it for the bedroom.” he wheezed, and she dropped him, hands flying to her face in horror. She helped him back to his seat, apologizing profusely.       “It was just instinct, I’m so sorry! I - I didn’t mean to!” she repeated, hands clasped in front of her. “Oh, Angie, I’m so sorry, I didn’t think it was gonna be - Okay, okay.” She held out her left hand, green sparks fizzling along the back of her hand. She blinked and the same sparks lit in her eyes, hellfire come to witness.       “I swear to keep your feelings a secret, until my extermination or the deal undone. Sound like a deal?” She tried to smile reassuringly, offering her hand to him. He shook, sighing. Green wrapped around her hand, gone in a blink. Both of them settled back in their seats, silence hanging awkwardly over them. It wasn’t the first time Maggie had made a deal with Angel, but she hated using them on her friends. Still, it was to protect them.       “The deal’ll keep it safe, and he doesn’t send shadows after me when I’m not out on a contract. Your secret’s safe. I, um, bet I can help you out! You’re lucky I’ve been working for him for a while, though, or you’d be shit out of luck.” She continued on, trying to cheer Angel up, but Omen didn’t hear her anymore. He gestured to Husk, bowing his head slightly. Husk moved in close, disguising it by changing his drink for another.       “She’s one of Alastor’s?” Omen asked under his breath, eyes trained on Maggie behind his visor.       “Has been for a good few months now. Since a couple weeks before you met her, anyways. That boy she’s tryin’ to kill, he’s the real deal. She struck a deal with Alastor to even the playing field.”       “Why.” Omen couldn’t keep his voice as flat as he’d have liked, but it wouldn’t have mattered. Husk could see through him.       “She needed help. You saw how tore up she got. They probably have some kinda kinship or whatever, or same rulebook.”      “Husker. What are you talking about.” Omen barked at him, anxiety spiking. Just when he thought everything was going to be peaceful for once.      “She’s a crossroads demon, Omen, same as him. You saw the light show. Made a deal with the bastard.” Husk turned away, knowing he couldn’t say anymore. Omen lowered his head, nails digging into the countertop where he clenched his fists. He stood up abruptly, patting at his pockets. “Gonna go out for a minute,” he said, but only Husk was listening. Magnolia was too wrapped up in swapping stories and details about difficult love interests with Angel and moaning about the ones they’d missed out on for one reason or another.       “Do you have any, not tryin’ to be rude here, doll, but any actual, helpful advice? Something for this, ah, particular case?” Angel asked, eyeing the door shutting behind Omen. He had a theory of his own.      “Hmmm. Well….” Magnolia hesitated, glancing at the empty barstool behind her. “Those types of men are...very hard to work with sometimes, you know? Your normal tricks aren’t gonna work. Can’t come on strong, can’t come on too weak, or leave it all to them. Hmm.” She paused, running a hand through her hair. There was a flush in her cheeks that definitely wasn’t the alcohol.       “Those types, you gotta be blunt and honest, but not so forward. Just kinda, friendly? But a litttttle bit more. You kinda gotta give them room to come out of their shell to you, not the other way around. Take it real, real slow. Make them as comfortable as you can, meetin’ them on their turf. Every now and then, it’s alright to give them a little push or nudge, let them know you’re into them or you want something, but you really gotta leave it up to them in the end. That...that make any sense?” She looked at the empty stool again, then the door, trying to find Omen’s silhouette behind the dark glass.       “Uh-huh. Real helpful, doll. So! How long you been datin’ the big bad biker?” Angel shifted gears, leaning into her space. She sputtered, leaning away, face red.       “We’re not dating at all! Just friends! We’re just both...regulars here! Right, Husk?” She looked to him with pleading eyes, but he just smiled, not bailing her out.       “Uhh-huh. And you just so happened to be into a ‘tall, dark, handsome’ hunter guy that don’t let nobody close, and it’s not your drinkin’ buddy who just so happens to match up perfectly to everything you’ve hinted at for weeks? I ain’t buying it, doll.”       “Angel! There’s nothing - I’m not!” She grabbed her drink to hide her embarrassment with a sip but was disappointed to find it was empty. Angel just laughed at her, grabbing at her basket of snacks.       “You’re a crossroad demon! Just make a deal with him!” He managed through his laughter. She pouted, carefully tucking her hands away.       “I don’t wanna go that route. Not with him.” She whispered, face turned down.      “You’re breakin’ my heart, Maggs. I thought I was special!” He whined, arm thrown over his face. She huffed at him, staring at her hands. He softened, dropping his hand on her shoulder.      “Tell you what, doll. You take your shot, and, after a little bit, I’ll take mine. How’szat for a deal?” He asked, offering a hand. She took it hesitantly, shaking just once. Another wash of green light snaked around her palm and she sighed, overdramatic as ever with them.      “Alright,” she said finally. “Sounds like a deal. But -” She stole a glance at the door, and the figure beyond it. “Not tonight.”   
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