#sorry if this is a little wobbly i drew this in a moving vehicle

[collabsfullfillment]

does Sunshine know how much he’s loved? how watching him embrace his kinks has helped others embrace theirs?

[straightlikewetspaghetti]

The Voice Inside My Head

Pairings: Poppy x MC (Bea Hughes)

Warnings: angst, mature language, mental illness, self-harm, domestic violence, rejection

Word count: 1901

"Kiss me."

Bea nearly choked on hearing those words from Poppy, who had not once turned or spoken in her direction since the beginning of the film. Now illuminated by the glow of the giant projector and with a dreamy expression on her face, she could easily command her to jump into the abyss and she would do so with pleasure.

"Yes, Princess," she replied, taking her face in her hands and greedily began to kiss her lips.

Princess? How long has it been since he called you that?

Ignoring the voice in the back of her head, Poppy gave herself fully to the magic of the kiss. Her face quickly began to burn as the other girl's curious hands began a slow roaming of her body, never crossing boundaries she didn't want to. Bea had always respected her, even if calling each other names was on their daily agenda.

The windows of Bea's car began to slowly steam up as the heat between them began to turn into a pure flame of desire, and Poppy's quiet whimpers echoed through the small space of the vehicle, turning Bea on even more. The blonde made herself as comfortable as she could in her seat and slid her hands into the girl's thick hair, which was begging for it.

Bea purred approvingly as she felt Poppy gently massage her scalp as she gave herself over to the skin of her neck. With her mouth, she felt the blonde's pulse quicken, just like her own, and if it weren't for her ribcage, her heart could have easily jumped for a walk.

Harder...

Poppy's body began to grow impatient as Bea made no further move, but continued to caress every easily accessible parts of her body with care. Otherwise she would have let her do it, but the thoughts swirling in the back of her head were starting to overwhelm her.

Make her punish you. Let her do what you deserve.

The blonde tightened the hands she held in Bea's hair, only for the girl to hiss and look at her questioningly. The blood-red blushing Poppy didn't even look at her, just to the side panting heavily, though the brunette didn't really do anything to that effect.

She could feel her adoring gaze on her.

Look at her Poppy. She's so vulnerable, so susceptible to your charm and grace, she doesn't even expect what a broken person you are inside.

T-that's not true.

No? And how many times did you hurt her before you agreed to go on that date with her? How many people have you hurt to realize that somewhere in your rotten depths you can feel something warm?

"Stop it," Poppy whispered unknowingly, but Bea, absorbed in trying to show how much she adored her, didn't even hear it.

You will hurt her. You WILL destroy her.

No, no, stop...

Just like you destroyed your family.

"Stop it! Just stop!" Poppy's body shuddered, tears hiding behind her eyelids that shouldn't have been there. Bea jumped away from her like she was on fire, pure terror mixed with shock on her face. She had no idea what had happened, but Poppy herself looked like someone who didn't know what was going on either.

"Jesus Christ Pops, I'm sorry!" Bea nervously began to adjust Poppy's clothing handling her like an egg so that the blonde wouldn't take it as any attempt to continue their little game. The brunette fingers trembled as she tried to fasten the buttons of her blouse.

Can't you see it? She hasn't even done anything wrong, yet she's the one apologizing to you because YOU are emotionally unstable. She is perfect, too perfect for someone as damaged as you. It's not her who doesn't deserve you Queen Bee, it's you who doesn't deserve her.

"Would you just shut up!"

Poppy was already almost panting from the strange fury bubbling up inside her that she could no longer contain within herself. Her scream was so loud that several people in the cars next to her turned toward them and began watching with interest. The blonde didn't even pay attention, her gaze still fixed on the brunette, whose face was full of so many mixed feelings that it was hard to determine what was really in her head.

The blonde sighed, letting half of the unnecessary rage float away and began to see more soberly with her eyes. What she began to notice was not at all to her liking, the pain she saw on the other's face was far more unbearable than the voice sitting in her head.

"Bea I..."

"It doesn't matter," escaped the brunette briefly. Turning around in her seat, she turned the key in the ignition as if nothing ever happened. "I'll take you home."

Poppy dug her long nails into her hand.

She always did this when she was mad at herself. However, now she was quickly losing control. Her brow furrowed as she stared blankly at the road in front of them, and her grip tightened, her nails slowly beginning to cut through her skin. Her breathing became labored, she knew another panic attack was coming. She clenched her jaw, feeling her body begin to tremble.

When she opened her eyes again, she no longer saw the road, but that cursed corridor from which it all began. Whenever she walked along it, it somehow magically got longer, only painfully delaying what was at the end. Instinctively, she looked to the side, towards the wall on which the pictures were hanging, and again she felt as if she were that little helpless girl from many years ago.

"Mommy?" her frightened voice echoed down the hallway as she again heard the thunder coming from outside, where a powerful storm was raging. Clutching her beloved teddy bear more tightly in her hands, she hurried toward the ajar door, from which raised voices began to ring out.

Before she could get there, her dad came out of the room looking shaken. He walked slowly to his daughter and squatted down, ruffling her hair. Poppy, however, did not return the smile when she saw tears in her dad's eyes.

"Remember I will always love you my little princess," were the last words she heard from him that day, the next and many more to come, because as he rose from his knees and grabbed the handle of the front door, his silhouette dissolved into a heavy wall of rain disappearing from her life once and for all.

Shortly after he disappeared, her drunken mother darted out of the room and ran towards the front door on wobbly legs. Instead of opening it, she simply banged on it violently and began sobbing, even louder than the raging thunder. "Art you coward!" her mother screamed towards the door, hitting it with an open fist every now and then. Poppy didn't even have to get close to her to smell the stench of strong alcohol. "You fucking coward..."

"M-mommy?" she said horrified at the state her mother was in. She immediately regretted it when her mother's glowing fury gaze fell on her and she started walking towards her. Poppy hugged her teddy bear tightly, trying to draw any comfort from it, and closed her eyes.

It didn't take Ana long to reach her daughter. She grabbed her firmly by the arm and began shrugging, out of control of her emotions. "This is all your fault," her screams were more terrible than the storm outside, her breath nearly parching Poppy's nostrils, who instinctively turned away from her mother. "You destroyed this family."

You were still so young, you couldn't understand that it was never your fault.

She drew in air heavily as she felt Bea's hand slip into her own, loosening it. It felt like ages had passed, but in fact her mind had locked her into the past for only a few minutes. With a scowl, she looked towards the brunette, who thankfully had her eyes on the road the whole time, her thumb gently caressing the skin of her palm.

The rest of the journey passed in pleasant silence, if that' s the way to put it. Poppy leaned against the window, mindlessly watching the trees fly by, and Bea kept a hand on her palm whenever she could, non-invasively trying to reassure her. In no time, Poppy was sitting on the couch at Bea's house, who had left her alone with herself for a while.

The blonde looked around the room, a little uneasy as she'd been here a few times before but had never paid attention to the scenery. She usually didn't have time for that when all she was thinking about was how much she wanted the brunette's touch on her.

"-- Sinclair is out, there is no option for her to stay here tonight."

A familiar voice reached her ears. She wasn't surprised that Zoey wasn't happy about her presence. The very fact that she had let her on her property was quite a surprise to her. She rose from the couch and wandered into the room where the two girls were discussing.

"Excuse me Bea, but Chlo called, there's some sort of accident at the sorority house and I need to get back. Thanks for today."

Lying is your second nature, but doing it in good faith? Impressive...

"I never expected to live the day when I'd hear a thank you from Sinclair," Zoey muttered, and despite her hostility, a spark of respect flashed in her eyes. "However, that doesn't change the fact that you're not welcome here, and I won't hide that," the girl crossed her arms over her chest looking down on Poppy.

"Sure, fine, I understand," she didn't have the strength to argue, besides deep down she knew the girl was right about that. "I'll go now."

"I can give you a ride!" Bea jumped in front of her briskly like a Golden Retriever pup, earning only a snort from Zoey, but Poppy just shook her head with a weak smile.

Before she left she rose on her tiptoes and placed one of the softest kisses of her life on Bea's cheek. Her lips stayed there for a moment longer than they should have, but Zoey's exaggerated grunt brought her back to gray reality. She left the building without looking back.

The night was chilly, so with every gust of wind Poppy covered herself tighter with the jacket Bea had wrapped her in when she wasn't even paying attention. Walking alone along the trees, she had the feeling that something was watching her and was about to jump out of the bushes at her in any moment. She quickened her step when she heard a rustle coming from around the corner.

She almost screamed when, to her terror, an actually tall figure emerged from the darkness. she cursed herself and Chlo in her mind for every horror she had made her watch. To her surprise, however, horror turned to confusion.

"Hello my little princess."

That voice...

"D-dad?"

[fanficimagery]

Flares

Summary: Imagine keeping a secret from your friends, but when you’re in need of a favor.. that secret you’ve guarded is now out.

Words: 2.9K Warnings: Cancer. The holidays have got me thinking about my mom and I just want to give someone the happy ending my mom never got.

Curled up on the sofa, no amount of TV has been able to distract you. It's been about a month since you've started chemotherapy and as warned your hair has slowly started to fall out. You had bawled earlier that morning when you noticed it, and then tried to distract yourself by binge eating and watching rom-coms. Unfortunately it didn't work.

Sighing, you pick up your iPhone to check the time. It's just after four in the afternoon and without second guessing yourself, you scroll through your contacts until you land on one name in particular. You're not as close to him as you are to others in your friend group, but you do trust him. So after quickly composing a text, you hit send on it and hope for the best.

[Hey, Jeff. When you have a free moment, can we talk?]

Surprisingly it doesn't take long for him to reply.

[I'm actually in neighborhood. Wanna grab a bite to eat?]

[Yeah. That's fine.]

[I'll text you when I'm outside.]

With your stomach in knots, you get up and quickly make yourself decently presentable for the public. You take two edibles that had been prescribed by your doctor when the nausea and anxiety became too much, and pray that you can keep your food down when out with your friend. Jeff soon texts and you quickly pocket some money, your phone, and your keys before leaving out the front door.

Then settling into the front passenger seat of Jeff's vehicle, you flash him a tired grin. "Hey, how's your day been?"

"Boring." As Jeff pulls away from the curb, you buckle yourself in and then try to sit as still as possible. "Had to film an ad for Old Spice, but that was over and done with surprisingly fast. How was your day?"

"Honestly? It's been a shit day," you say, chuckling softly. "It's kind of why I wanted to talk to you."

"Uh oh." He glances between the road and you. "This can't be good."

"You have no idea how right you are." Sighing, you then say, "I'm not sure I want to tell you right now. It's kind of an appetite killer and I already took two edibles."

Jeff frowns. "Edibles? I didn't know you were into that."

"I'm not, but they were prescribed by my doctor."

"Doctor? What the hell is going on, Y/N?"

"I'm sorry." Wringing your hands together nervously, you then meet Jeff's stare after he's pulled off into a gas station parking lot. "I'm sick. I didn't want to tell anyone until I absolutely had to and this morning I realized I was going to have to start because I need to ask you for a favor."

"Y/N," he starts, "the only time someone is prescribed edibles is when-"

"-when someone has cancer. When the chemo becomes too much and the patient can't keep food down."

Jeff's eyes close as he deeply exhales. "Jesus." A moment of silence passes and then, "what's this favor?"

"I need you to shave my head."

"What?"

"During chemo, hair starts falling out anywhere between two to four weeks. It's been a little over five for me and I noticed it falling out this morning."

He gulps. "Are you sure?"

"Yeah." Your voice wobbles and tears fill your eyes, but you're quick to wipe them away before they fall. "I don't want to go to a stranger for this. This is really personal and I would rather the person shaving my head be someone I trust."

"Then yes. I'll do it." You smile, but you can't help the tears. "Christ, Y/N, come here." Jeff opens his arms for a hug and you unbuckle your seatbelt so you're able to hug him over the center console. "You know you're gonna have to tell everyone. And soon."

"I will. I kind of have an idea of how I want to tell them, but you'd have to agree to it."

Pulling out of the hug, Jeff grins. "Okay then. We'll talk details over dinner because I'm sure you're starting to feel really hungry."

"I am." Jeff chuckles and then starts to drive. On the road to the chosen restaurant , you finally say, "Thanks, Jeff."

"Don't even mention it. I will always be there for my friends." He flashes you that dimpled smile of his and for a moment you feel like you can breathe again.

Letting someone in on this secret of yours feels like a weight has been lifted off your chest.

"So are you gonna tell me why we're doing a special edition of Jeff's Barbershop in my living room?" David wonders.

Zane and Heath are helping Jeff setup, pushing back the furniture and laying down some plastic so hair doesn't get caught in the carpet.

"You'll know soon enough."

"Can you at least let us know whose hair you're cutting?" He then asks.

Jeff sighs. "You'll know soon enough, man." David frowns, and Heath and Zane suddenly look interested in Jeff's vague answers. "Just- no jokes. Alright? This is going to be pretty serious."

"Jesus. What the hell is going on?" Zane nervously chuckles, attempting to cut the tension. It doesn't work.

"Okay. Well who's all coming?" David asks.

"Mariah, Erin, Carly, Y/N, Natalie, Jason, Todd, and Matt. Everyone else couldn't make it, so we'll call them afterward."

"Man," Heath sighs. "I've got a bad feeling about today. If Jeff isn't cracking jokes, something must really be up."

Jeff only shrugs, refusing to say anymore on the matter.

          - X - X - X - X - X -

By the time everyone is gathered at David's and has calmed down from greeting one another, Jeff stands next to the chair in the middle of the room. He picks up the black cape from the seat and holds it in one hand, staring out at everyone. "Ready?"

Everyone then glances around the room, anxious to see who's going to stand, and you almost laugh at their surprised exclamations when you push yourself up to your feet.

"What?!" Erin shouts, smiling. "No way!" She then looks to Jeff. "I thought you didn't cut women's hair? You nearly panicked when I asked you buzz my baby hairs."

"This is a special occasion of sorts. You'll understand soon enough," he says.

Now standing next to Jeff, you stuff your hands into the pocket of your hoodie. He wraps an arm around your shoulders and you lean into him for some much needed comfort. "I know you're all probably confused," you start, "but I have something to tell you and I figured I'd tell as many of you as I can in one go because this is kind of hard to say out loud."

Mariah frowns and leans forward. "What's going on, girl?"

You take a deep breath, but it doesn't help. Tears immediately spring to your eyes, even as you try to screw your mouth and nose up to keep them at bay. The tears suddenly have everyone on edge. "I.. I have cancer." The entire group goes silent and those who'd been staring at their phones immediately drop them. "I found out a little over a month ago and have been having chemo sessions for about just as long."

"Why didn't you tell us sooner?" David wonders.

You shrug. "It was hard to process at first, but then I just got scared that you'd all treat me differently once you found out. And now that my hair is falling out and Jeff kindly accepted to do me a favor, I figured I'd tell you instead of surprising you with my bald noggin'."

Heath and David are the first out of their seats, the two young men sandwiching you in a hug. You laugh, but then your laughter turns into sobs as you cling to them. One by one, the rest of your friends stand to embrace you and whisper words of encouragement.

When they're done, you step back and wipe your eyes. "None of you guys actually have to stay for the cut, but you're more than welcome to. Jeff's gonna film as if he were back at his own place and I'm just going to talk about how I found out about the cancer."

"We're staying," Jason says. "We're gonna be here for you every step of the way."

You finally take a seat in the chair and Jeff wraps the cape around your neck. You gulp down the lump in your throat, inhaling and exhaling loudly to prepare yourself for what's about to come. The sound of the clippers turn on and you close your eyes when you feel the teeth of the clippers at the front of your hairline.

Then almost as if he's unsure, Jeff slowly drags the clippers atop your head. The moment you feel your hair being cut, you can't stop the tears that start to flow once more. This time, however, they're silent.

"So, uh, how did you find out about the cancer?" Jeff asks.

He continues to cut and it takes you a moment to find your voice. "It was stupid, really," you huff. "I was just feeling kind of worn down, but I wasn't sick. So after being utterly exhausted for no apparent reason, I went to the doctor where they drew some blood and found abnormalities in my blood."

"Didn't you lose your mom to cancer?" Natalie asks.

"I did." Shakily smiling, you take a moment to control your warring emotions. "Since my mom had it, the doctors urged me to get checked out early. I refused. And then I refused again when my dad's sister was diagnosed and my chances of having it as well were even higher."

"God," Erin sighs. "I don't think I could not know. I'd have gotten checked out as soon as possible."

"It's easy to say that if you haven't seen anyone go through it," you tell her. "But I watched my mom go through chemo several times and watched her health slowly deteriorate. I didn't want to get as sick as she did. It was horrible. So I came to the conclusion that if I didn't know, then it was okay. It'd take forever to actually show symptoms and I was fine with that."

"But the symptoms showed up early," Zane guesses.

You nod. "They did."

"What- what kind of cancer is it?" Matt asks.

"Breast. Exactly like my mom had, but nowhere as advanced as hers was."

"So that's a good thing. Right?" Todd wonders.

"I mean.." you trail off, shrugging. "My chances are better than hers were, but I'd rather not have cancer to begin with."

Everyone falls silent and the only sound for a few minutes are the buzzing clippers.

You let Jeff move your head this way as he cuts, almost missing his question. "Now that you know, do you wish you'd have gotten checked sooner?"

"Honestly? Yeah. Because if they had caught it sooner, then I wouldn't need chemo," you admit. "So my advice to everyone is, is that even though you hate doctor visits, schedule them for at least every six months. And if your family has a history of cancer, get checked as soon as possible and schedule appointments every three months to make sure nothing pops up suddenly."

"Okay. And we're.. done."

Jeff cleans you off and unlatches the cape from around your neck, but you're frozen in your seat. Your head feels a whole lot lighter and though you asked Jeff for this haircut, you don't want to see it.

"Y/N?" Carly's soft voice pulls you out of your mind.

"I'm okay." You shakily smile. "I just- it's just a lot to take in. Now I know how my mom felt when my brother cut her hair those three times."

Jeff comes around to stop before you, he grabbing your hands and gently pulling you to your feet. "Whatever you need, we're here for you." He wraps his arms around you, tucking you under his chin. "If you want to go to a wig shop, we'll go to a wig shop."

You sniffle, chuckling. "No offense to your fantastic cut, but we're definitely going to a wig shop."

"Hell yes we are, baby," Zane agrees.

The others slowly start to unwind from the serious situation you dropped into their laps, and though there are still tears in their eyes and pity in their expressions, they try to make the best of it.

Plans are made to keep you decently active, your friends wheedle more information out of you about your family's health history, and then before Jeff can leave you follow him outside.

"Hey," you call out, stalling him, the hood of your jacket pulled up and over your head. "I know how annoying some of your viewers are, so if you want I can make an intro or outro for your video to let everyone know the video was my idea and that you didn't make it for the views."

Jeff sheepishly smiles. "You watch my videos?"

"We're friends, aren't we?" You grin. "Of course I watch them. So what do you say?"

"I'd appreciate it. Thanks, Y/N."

"Mhm. And thank you. For everything."

Jeff's dimples make an appearance as he smiles, he nodding before getting in his vehicle to take his leave.

The news of your cancer took every one of the fans by surprise.

Jeff had edited his video as quickly as he could and posted it with your permission. Then as soon as his video was up, you took a couple of selfies and posted them to Instagram with a link to the video that explained everything. The love and support that had quickly followed left you in tears, and feeling quite content with yourself for your decision to no longer keep your illness a secret.

The chemotherapy eventually got the best of you and there were times when you couldn't even get out of bed. It went from your friends constantly checking on you to moving you into David's spare bedroom when they found you struggling to breathe one day from an anxiety attack. You hadn't wanted to become a burden, but everyone was in agreement that they'd feel better if you lived with one of them until treatment was over. And seeing as you lived closest to Natalie and David, it was their home you moved into.

You filmed bits for everyone's vlogs to talk about your journey with cancer and about the progress you'd made while getting treatment. But soon the treatments stopped and you had to endure yet more testing to see if the chemo was doing it's job.

Then a week later, you're getting ready to go visit the doctor for your results.

As you're sliding your feet into a pair of sneakers, David's just getting home.

"Hey, Y/N. Going out?"

"Yeah." Pulling a beanie atop your head, you fix it just right before meeting David's gaze. "Today's the big day. I find out whether or not I can stop chemo for good or have to have another round."

His eyes subtly widen. "Yeah? Can I go?"

"Sure. You mind driving? I'm a bit anxious."

"Not at all. Lets go."

The drive is mostly a relaxed one, David asking about your plans should you get good news. You told him that you'd be moving back into your own apartment and that you were going back to work as soon as possible because your job was still waiting for you.

David then proceeded to assure you that no matter what he and all your friends would be there for you to fall back on should you need it. Of course you knew that, but it was nice to hear it again.

The following wait in the waiting room is quite excruciating and David grips onto your hand as your knee bounces anxiously. Smiling sheepishly, you try to quit the knee bouncing, but it starts back up moments later.

When your name is finally called, you drag David with you into the back room. Hand in hand, you enter the doctor's main office and only have to wait another hand full of minutes. Your doctor's expression is quite unreadable and even David's knee starts to bounce anxiously, but when she beams at you, you break down.

Remission. You are in complete remission.

Your face is in your hands as you sob, David's rubbing your back, and it takes you a moment to calm down. Then when you're finally able to control yourself and glance up, even the doctor is teary-eyed. She tells you that all tests and scans came back clean, but she'd still like to see you every three months to make sure nothing suddenly pops back up. You're more than okay with that and after gathering some paperwork, and standing up to hug your doctor, you and David are soon on your way.

Outside the office building, you and David stare at one another before he opens his arms and you throw yourself at him. He's laughing, you're crying and laughing, and the two of you just hug it out far longer than a hug should last.

"So who are we telling first?" He wonders, grinning.

"Jeff. Definitely Jeff," you say. "He was the first to know I had cancer, so he should the first- well, second now- to know I'm in remission."

"Well alright then. But just so you know, I'm recording their reactions."

You laugh. "Of course you are."

[mythicamagic]

It’s Just the Curse: Fruits Basket Oneshot

Summary: Hatori tends to an injured Tohru after the events of the True Form arc.

Hurt/comfort

2,000 words

AN: I don't wanna hear no - 'ahhh you must hate Kyoru!'

No. Shh. I ship Kyoru, I just needed to write this because I felt like the 2019 version of the true form arc gave Tohru far more injuries than in the 2001 or manga versions. I need some Hatori love. I do also ship Hatohru but you can choose to think of this as platonic, I left it ambiguous on purpose because this isn't really about romance, this is hurt/comfort, ya feel?

It's Just the Curse

When he receives a call from Shigure, he expects the usual idiotic musings from the novelist, leaning back in his desk chair to get comfortable and ignore them.

Instead, what comes through the line is: "It's Tohru, can you come quick?"

Hatori left the chair spinning, yanking on a jacket and grabbing his keys and case. Shigure rarely used that tone, and it wasn't the playful one from before when Tohru had gotten a fever. This wasn't a headache or a housecall. Something had happened.

Hatori slid into the driver's seat, gunning the engine and speeding out of Sohma estate. He never usually drove over the limit. Today he barely paid attention to the speedometer, all he knew was that the vehicle wasn't moving fast enough.

Finally pulling up at Shigure's house, he rushed out, snapping the sliding door open and fixing Shigure with a look.

"Where?" He demanded.

"Her room."

Nodding, Hatori paused, taking off his shoes and padding by the living room, noticing Kyo in cat form. He lay curled up on Kazuma's lap, who seemed to ignore everyone else, looking down at him with soft eyes. Dread caught in Hatori's throat, before he turned to Shigure. "Don't tell me she saw-"

"It had to be done, according to Kazuma. But everything worked out alright. Kyo got a little upset, is all."

Is all?

Hatori didn't hear anything more, hurrying up the stairs to Tohru's room. He didn't bother knocking, opening it and finding Yuki sat on the edge of her bed. Kagura lingered by the window, staring out of it with a morose expression.

Deep lilac eyes shifted, soon finding the girl.

She sat with her knees bent beneath her, long, damp hair trailing down her shoulders, clothes rumbled and dirtied. Blood caked up her arm, but worse was the marks on her shoulder and neck. Three deep looking rivets had cut through the clothing, breaking the skin. Tohru looked over at him, slightly shaking from the cold despite the towel she clung to around her arms.

"I-it's not as bad as it looks," she smiled gently. "Please don't look at me like that, Hatori."

How else was he supposed to look at her?

Glancing at Yuki, he shifted. "I'd like to examine her," he muttered.

Yuki looked at Tohru, mild guilt thinning his lips. Tohru just nodded with encouragement, and Yuki left without another word. Kagura padded over, appearing conflicted.

"Are you sure you don't want another girl here with you, Tohru?" She asked quietly.

"No, it's alright. I trust Hatori."

Kagura nodded, soon following Yuki. The door slid shut afterwards, leaving them in the gloom of her lonely room. Even the pink of her bedding and curtains didn't liven it up, appearing dulled to his eyes. Hatori took a few steps closer, turning on Tohru's bedside lamp. He then sat beside her on the bed, taking a breath. The priories of a Doctor came first, and he gestured to her t-shirt. "Tohru, I need to remove that to reach the wounds. Judging by your injury, I think it would be best to cut the material off, rather than trying to raise your arms."

She nodded, and he noticed dirt scuffing her cheek. His heart twisted at such a simple thing, before shaking himself and reaching into his bag. Taking out scissors, he gently seized the bottom of her ruined pink top, cutting a line up the middle and leaving it in two halves. Slowly, gingerly, long fingers eased the material down and off her arms.

This left Tohru in her bra and skirt, which he ignored, taking the towel and sliding it over her good shoulder to preserve some of her modesty. Tohru smiled at him, curling her fingers into it. Hatori wished he could find the same strength to smile back. He went about cleaning the wounds carefully, wiping down her arm and trying to remove the sheer amount of blood. But soon he stopped, realising something. Dark eyes shifted, catching hers.

"... I need to stitch these wounds. They're too deep to leave as they are."

Tohru's eyes dimmed a little, soon nodding once more. She didn't ask if it would hurt. He didn't ask if she was alright. Of course she wasn't. Instead, he sterilised a needle and thread, shifting until he bent close, their knees touching.

"You can lean into my shoulder, miss Honda, if you want." He uttered quietly. "Just be careful, I'd really rather avoid turning into a seahorse right now."

At that, she gave a small, wobbly giggle. Carefully, she set her forehead on the broad expanse of his left shoulder. He could feel the slight pressure of her cheek, the faint tingle of nervous breath fanning onto his neck. She was much quieter than usual.

"... It's alright," he soothed quietly, voice hushed. It didn't feel right to talk loudly in this atmosphere. The house felt so silent, as though holding its breath with her. Sliding the needle in, he began stitching, sewing the skin together. Tohru made a noise, crying out, until she muffled herself into his suit. Hatori continued working with sure, practised fingers, finishing one deep gash, before tying the sutra and having to start on the second. Her trembling didn't make matters easy, so Hatori took a moment to rest a hand on the crown of her head- not expecting her to flinch and make a whimpering noise.

"Tohru..." he slipped up, using her first name. "Your head. Were you hurt there as well?"

"Y-yes. I landed in some water quite hard, I think. It was shallow, so..."

A long exhale escaped the Doctor, hissing through blunt teeth. Hatori's head bowed. "... I'm sorry this happened to you. I never wanted-" he tripped over words, soon focusing. "Don't you understand now why I told you to leave the Sohmas? We only hurt others," he murmured lowly, like a confession. But she knew. And of course, she'd stayed, worrying all the time what she could do for them. Not what they could do for her. Now he was fixing her up, like their own personal patchwork doll to play with and ruin anew.

Gentle fingers smoothed over his cheek, and Hatori's eyes fluttered shut as she rested her palm over his bad one. "That's not true. I... was frightened. I won't lie. Kyo didn't look, speak or act like himself when he transformed. But... I knew it was him, and I had to bring him back here. If I didn't, he'd disappear... that's why..." she lifted her head slightly, and Hatori turned his cheek to look at her with his good eye. "I'd rather go through this now than lose him. I don't want to lose anyone else," she murmured, stroking dark hair away from his face. "So please don't blame yourself, Hatori. It's just...the curse, isn't it? I accepted it then. I accept it now."

When her touch drew back, Hatori trembled slightly. She was strong, miss Honda. Even with her body shaken and bleeding, she didn't waver. He couldn't understand it, only look at her as though trying to solve the riddle- the paradox she presented.

He carried on stitching, doing his damn best to make them clean, willing away any scars. He sighed once it was finished, treating it with antibacterial ointment and covering it with a bandage, leaning back.

"Thank you so much," Tohru smiled tiredly, tilting her head slightly and sending a tumble of brunette locks spilling forward.

She swallowed some painkillers soon after, and he rested an ice pack on the lump forming on her head. "Honestly, you might have to go the hospital anyway," he said quietly. "Do you have a headache? Eyesight problems?"

"Ah! No, no. Nothing like that. It just hurts a bit."

"Mn. Call me, if you feel any change."

Tohru paused. "Oh... are you... leaving already?" She asked haltingly. Her attitude abruptly shifted, taking the ice pack from him and pressing it to her head. "Aha! Of course you are, you're probably extremely busy! I'm so sorry. That was selfish of me! I didn't mean to say it like that-"

"Tohru," he lifted a finger to her lips, stopping the flow of worries. "I meant for you to call downstairs. I'll be sleeping on the couch tonight."

Tohru jolted. "Rwure?" The words came out muffled behind his finger.

Hatori blushed slightly, shifting his hand away. At least she sounded more like herself again. "Mn, really. Knowing your disposition though, you wouldn't be honest and call down complaining about any aches, so I'll check on you again in a few hours."

It was Tohru's turn to blush, glancing away. "I-I'm plenty honest, I promise!"

His lips quirked at the edges, smoothing a warm palm over her forehead and resting it there. She stilled, looking at him with curious, earthy brown eyes, not moving an inch. Hatori leaned down, resting his lips against his knuckles. He let out a long, extinguished sigh, dusty lungs constricting. "Not enough. You're never honest enough about what you're feeling, miss Honda. If it's pain, you just cover it up. I swear... you're going to give me grey hair before my time."

Tohru blinked like a lost doe, soon relaxing and stroking his arm fondly. "But you're just the same, aren't you?" She said smally.

He swallowed. "...There's nothing I can do for you, is there? Nothing I could say to make you change your mind now and forget us."

"No, I'm alright as I am now. But..." she smiled. "You really are kind, to worry so much. You could make me forget by force, but you don't."

He didn't need to be reminded. The hypnosis would be so easy. She'd never be hurt again if he just threw away her wants and acted of his own accord-

But he stayed perfectly still. She deserved more than to have the choice ripped from her fingers.

Pulling back to look at her with treacle immediacy, his eyes softened. Tohru's lips bent into a painful, honest smile, a rare glimpse of her real self. Hatori felt humbled having seen it.

He shifted away slowly, helping her ease down beneath the covers. He then hesitated, before removing his jacket and laying it over her bedding.

"I'm warm enough," came her subdued voice.

He ignored this, padding to the door and opening it, letting the stronger light from the hallway flood a corner of her room. "Mn. Remember what I said... If anything hurts-"

"I'll call down and complain," she smiled, looking small beneath the mountains of covers, dwarfed by her large bed.

He nodded, voice turning quiet and reverent: "get some rest. Doctor's orders."

Tohru watched him go, the door sliding shut soundlessly between them. Hatori lingered in the hallway, shifting to lean heavily against the opposite wall. A pale hand racked through dark bangs, breath shuddering. Ugly, painful memories resurfaced.

Him, trying to stop the blood flow. Pressing urgent, shaking hands to his blazing eye. Kana looking so frightened, so lost. He'd wanted to comfort her, to wash his blood from her hands.

Hatori paused, glancing at the bloodied cuff of his shirt. Now some of Tohru's blood was on Sohma hands. It wasn't enough that they suffered inside their own circle, apparently. They needed to do the same to outsiders. And yet... she hadn't looked like Kana. She never did. Tohru's back had been straight, eyes steady. She bore the weight of the curse like the death of her mother, folding it away in her heart.

Hatori leaned his head back, craving a cigarette.

"We're all hopeless children when compared with you, miss Honda."

[thejoeisthejoe]

Greatest Car Chase Ever

@getacluedrew is probably going to shoot me or throw something at me, but it’s almost 2am and I’m not sleepy ... I’m posting crap, may as well post our awesome amazing giant ass cross over that we wrote in college together. 

Episode: Hollywood Phantom Guest Stars: The Outsiders Original Characters: Kiba @getacluedrew and Sarah (me!)  Plot - Joe's been kidnapped and an awesome car chase follows.

This is probably going to be mary sue as hell but it was written this way on purpose. The goal is to rescue Joe. 

I promise, it’s worth it. It’s fucking hilarious. 

She woke up on the cold ground feeling her elbows burn from being dropped onto the pavement. Then she looked around and saw she was alone. "Joe?" Slowly she stood up and glanced around nervously. "Joe are you ok?" 

Silence answered her and she felt tears stinging in her eyes. "Oh god…." She began running back towards the hotel hoping she was freaking out about nothing. Sweat ran down her face as she realized the potential of something actually happening to Joe.  

This wasn't like the books, this was really happening.  

This was reality. 

The hotel came into sight and tears ran down her cheeks. She wiped them away with embarrassment as she walked towards the entrance. The bellhop opened the door for her and she tried to straighten her shirt as much as possible. Then she caught her reflection in one of the windows. She sighed and gave up trying to make her self look presentable. 

"Um, sir?  We have a problem! I need to speak to Nancy Drew or Frank Hardy as soon as possible, do you know where they could be?"

"They are in a meeting with the Lieutenant about the situation, is it urgent?"

Her green eyes widened and she gave him a frustrated look. Not wishing to make her cry he walked out from behind the desk and took her by the arm. "Now, now, everything will be alright. Come, I'll show you the room." 

"Thank you," she whispered. 

When she got closer, she realized that she'd have to tell Frank his brother was missing - or she thought that was what had happened. So far he wasn't here, but if he were here, he'd be with her reassuring her that everything was ok.  Her mask she'd been hiding behind broke at the entrance to the room. 

The desk clerk opened the door  and as 

Sarah stood in the doorway she was unable to make eye contact with Frank.

 "Nancy…," Sarah whispered.

"Sarah? Are you alright? You look like you were in a fight?" exclaimed Nancy.

 Frank was up quickly and put his arm around her shoulders, comfortingly.  "Are you hurt?"

Sarah felt another presence appear behind Frank.  She could only shake her head slowly trying not break down. "Sarah, where is Joe?" 

That did it! 

The flood gates opened and she began sobbing, "He's not here? Oh God, they got him." 

"Who?" 

"The man…the person….I don't know. I woke up on the pavement and Joe wasn't there. I was hoping he'd be here…Oh Frank, I'm so sorry!!" 

"It'll be alright, Sarah, it will be." Nancy reached out and pulled her close. "Don't worry, right Frank?" 

A slight nudge in the side made Frank jump slightly and respond with "Yeh, of course…" 

*~*

 "I think we're lost." 

"Gimme the map!" 

Kiba and the boys were driving to meet Sarah at the hotel, it was dark around 8 pm now and seven people in one red Chevy was not going well. 

Darry strained his eyes trying to focus on the road in front of him. He could see the red lights of another car, meanwhile the argument over the directions behind him ensued. 

Darry slowed the vehicle down realizing it was a squad car. He watched the car lights letting his mind drift to the conversation. Then it faded when he noticed something strange. 

"So where are we?" 

"We're here." Kiba sighed surrendering the map to her companions. Maps never were her forte. 

"Hey," Darry said, pointing still keeping his hands on the steering wheel. "There's someone in that trunk." 

The conversation ceased and Soda Pop leaned over to the dashboard of the truck to see. Sure enough, the trunk wobbled a little and someone's face came into view. "Is..is that...?" He looked, "Isn't that Joe Hardy?" 

Kiba pushed past Two Bit and Steve who were sitting on the floor boards. She leaned between the two front seats to see and her eyes widened. "Oh my God, it is! It's Joe!" 

Everyone bolted up. 

"Drive, Darry, DRIVE!" She shouted shaking his shoulder. Darry punched the accelerator and the chevy took off. 

*~*

His eyes painfully opened and he realized with discomfort that one, he was moving and two he was tied up. He was still groggy from whatever had knocked him out as he tried to figure out where exactly he was and why he was moving. 

Then his mind went back to Sarah, was she in here as well? No this place was to small for both of them to be in here.  Then a car horn and shouting was heard out side, teenagers on a drive? Wait…a drive? He was tied up in a trunk?

Terrific. 

Slowly he maneuvered to where his hands were at the end of the car. If he was right, there should be a way to get out.  His fingers grabbed the latch type thing and he pushed. Out of no where the top flipped open and the wind was rushing through his hair. He had to get out of here, alive and find Sarah. 

The bright lights of the teens car was beginning to annoy him, if only he could get their attention.  Then the car he was in bumped up and he was able to turn his head around. Behind the bright lights he saw Kiba in the head space between the two seats. 

Kiba was Sarah's friend, he was saved. 

Now he just had to find a way to get out of here with out killing himself. He leaned forwards and twisted to where he was laying long ways with his head on the wheel covering. Dizzyness was still taking him for an entire different ride of his own. 

Then he heard his father and his brother's voices in his head. 

"Just stay calm."

"There is always a way out." 

Easy for them to say, he said to himself. Ok, I can do this. Another bump came and he felt his gag loosen and the string around his ankles got caught on something at the other end of the trunk and this time Joe yanked hard with all of his might. Finally the string snapped and his legs were free. 

Next he got on his knees steadying his back up against the popped trunk hoping another bump wouldn't send him flying out of the trunk. He tried to hurry and began rubbing his wrist bands against the corner of the trunk. 

After they got weaker Joe tried to pull them apart. His third time trying the car he was in went around a steep turn and he was thrown to the opposite side flat on his face. He lay there for a few seconds feeling the throbbing of his head from the impact then he pulled one more time.  They broke and he pushed himself up slightly. He undid his gag and coughed up the dust. 

Now what? 

*~*

In the meeting room Sarah had somewhat calmed down. She was sitting beside Nancy who was holding her hands tightly in her own. Frank was pacing the tiny room as he worried about his brother. 

Finally Nancy spoke up, "Lt, you don’t understand, Joe could be seriously injured and if we don't act now he might not get the help he needs!" 

Frank was speechless as what Nancy said swarmed around in his head, she was right. He watched as tears began streaming down Sarah's face. 

"Miss Drew, we have been over this there is nothing out of the ordinary, I'm sure the boys just lost and is on his way home. Either that or it's a practical joke!" 

"Practical joke?" Nancy exclaimed fuming. Before she could offer a rebuttal the desk clerk came in. 

"Um, excuse me, Miss Drew you have a call. It sounds urgent. You can take it here." He said pointing to the phone on the desk. 

Nancy nodded towards the LT and he pressed speaker phone. "Hello?"

"Nancy?"

"Kiba!?!" 

"Nancy, we found Joe he's been kidnapped in the back of a trunk of a squad car. We.."

"We're in hot pursuit! We're in hot pursuit!" 

"Two Bit give me back my phone! ARGH! We're on a one way street in the mountains. Get the cops! We're on Route 95 west. We'll follow 'em for as long as we can but they've caught on! You'd better - ahhh! JUST GET DOWN HERE!" 

"Kiba, how does Joe look?" Sarah exclaimed jumping from her seat. 

  "He's untied but he looks slightly…"

"He looks drunk."

"Shut up, Steve." 

"I'm just saying." 

"Shut up! Anyway, yeh route 95 west! Hurry! It's getting' pretty tight around here." Nancy turned back to the speaker phone, "Alright, we're on our way!" 

*click*

"Route 95? That's the worst road out there and in the dark." 

Sarah and Nancy watched as Frank's eyes widened with fear and he ran out. They got up and ran after him. "Frank, let us come with you." 

"No."

"Why not?! You can't take care of him all by yourself!" 

"There is no way I need two more people to worry about."

"Two people to worry about? We'll see about that!" 

"Look, Nancy just take the van's keys. I'm taking the dirt bike so maybe I can catch up faster. Follow carefully."

Nancy sighed and nodded. 

*~*

Joe faintly heard the sound of a motorcycle coming their way. Great. How many other people were going to join this crazy chase? He leaned over the side of the trunk to look to his left and see a drop of pure darkness below him. 

His mind reeled as he realized he was on a one lane road, in a trunk, going up a mountain. 

*~*

 The squad car swerved dangerously around the ever tightening curves as the red Chevrolet kept close behind it. Darry jerked the wheel, rocks skidding and dust flying then punched the accelerator and bumped the car trying to make it stop. 

However with the sheer rock face on one side and the guard rails next to the 100ft drop off made this stunt almost suicidal but there was no other way. He pressed the gas again ready to ram the squad car again but the squad car veered around another tight curve just before he could. 

"Shit!" Darry muttered jerking the wheel hand over hand turning the car. The tires squealed as rubber burned, the car grazing the guard rail as they skidded around the curve. 

Kiba screamed and the boys hollered as the truck tipped then revved up again.

"I think I'm gunna be sick," Ponyboy gurgled, cupping his hand over his mouth. 

"Don't you dare throw up in this car Ponyboy Curtis, don't you dare!" Steve ordered. 

Pony burped hunching over, then opened the car door only to gaze down at a sheer drop. His eyes widened and he felt someone grab his shirt then pull him back into the car and shut the door just before they rounded another curve. 

"What the hell is the matter with you?" But before Dallas could finish the car jolted and the Chevrolet slammed the squad car again. 

*~*

Frank geared the bike to go as fast as he could get it. He had to reach his brother before something happened, especially if Joe was as bad off as they said he was. 'He looks drunk'. That probably meant Joe was just slightly conscious with a possible concussion, he had to get Joe out of here. He slowly reached up and pressed the side of his helmet. His built in radio turned on. "Nancy can you read me?" 

"We read you Frank." 

"Call back down to the hotel and ask them to have medics sent up here."

"Already done, Frank." Sarah's voice answered a little stronger than he'd expected. "Just get him out of there alive."

"I will, Sarah, he'll be fine." Then he neared the next turn and saw the red chevy. Then he said "Call Kiba." He heard a dialing sound as his helmet's phone dialed Kiba's number. 

"Yes?" 

"Kiba, there is a truck safety stop not one mile away from here, see if whoever is driving can push the car into there. Make sure not to hurt Joe. He sounds already beat up."

"Darry.. is ….driving, Frank…. we're…. fine. Of course….. I ….wouldn't."

"I never said you would," Frank replied telling Kiba exactly what she was thinking. 

"They wouldn't either. They don’t want to face Sarah's wrath."

"Oh and let your friends know, once Joe is safe-" A smile crossed Frank's lips. "They can beat the crap out of the bad guys. Just keep 'em alive."

A round of cheers were heard and Kiba laughed manically, "Don't worry Frank they've done this before! And yes that is a good thing." She answered for him knowing he was puzzling over that fact. 

Frank held back and let the car do its work. "Just hang in there, little brother. We're coming." 

*~*

The cars bumped into each other waking Joe up slightly from his pained half coherent state. Why were people running into them? 

The next two bumps weren't as horrible as the next one. The fourth ram sent Joe backwards into the car, his head cracking against it. He slumped forward unconscious.  

*~*

"What did Frank want?"

Kiba grinned, "Frank says we can beat the crud out of the kidnappers once we save Joe!" 

"Hell to the yes!" Two Bit exclaimed. 

"I could go for that!" Dallas agreed. 

"Ok, boys, lets get these suckers!" Kiba said that evil crazy glint in her eyes, a maniacal grin slithered across her face. 

Darry pressed the accelerator and rammed the car, HARD! The squad car was no match for the Chevy's greaser power. All of a sudden. 

BANG! BANG! 

"Holy Hell, they're shooting at us!" Soda exclaimed as a bullet ricocheted off the top of the car. 

Two Bit nudged Johnny aside and leaned his head out the window. "hey give us back our friend you mother-" He ducked back inside just as bullets went flying by. 

"Two can play at this game." Dally muttered. Then he pulled out his 45 and jammed the cartridge in. Leaning out the window and began shooting. 

The squad car swerved, then Soda had a brilliant idea, "Aim for the tires Dallas! Aim for the tires!" 

~*~

BANG! BANG! 

Frank's eyes widened as he realized he was getting shot at. His eyes caught sight of a dirt path leading up the mountain, probably the hiking trail. He veered off on to it and began to climb the mountain dodging trees and other things in the way. 

Finally the forest cleared and he saw a drop. He pushed his foot down on the accelerator and hoped for the best. 

*~*

"Um…Kiba.."

"Kind of busy here!"

"I didn't think Motorcycles could fly.."

"What are you talking about?" 

Silently  pointed up above them as the motorcycle grew louder. There was a loud crash on the hood of the car and then Frank rolled down their windshield and out in front of them. 

"Holy," Kiba began. 

"Shit." Johnny finished. 

"That was AWESOME!" Two Bit shouted.

"I think I'm gunna be sick," Ponyboy whispered. 

*~*

Dallas squinted one eye, "Keep her steady, Darry!" He called as Kiba gripped his brown leather jacket so he wouldn't fall out the window. Darry gritted his teeth as they wound down the road, his eyes totally focused on the car in front of them as he tried to steady the car. 

A straight away appeared just ahead, Dallas' fingers twitched on the trigger. "Not yet, not yet…" Kiba muttered to her self."

*~*

The next time Joe woke up he heard gun shots. Wait, Gunshots? He opened his eyes now curious to know why and HOW exactly these guys had gotten guns. 

Frank looked up and saw Joe was moving again.  "JOE! NEXT TURN JUMP OUT!"

Was Frank crazy? This car was going at least 50 miles per hour. There was no way he'd survive.

"JUST TRUST ME JOE!" 

 His brother had never let him down before. Joe took a deep breath and got prepared. His head was still reeling but he knew he could do this.

"Now Dallas! NOW FIRE!" Kiba shouted. 

"That ought to slow him down!" Steve said trying to stand up so he could see. 

The one aimed shot pierced the right tire. The car swerved and slowed down just enough for Joe to jump out.  

 The next turn came and Joe jumped landing in the dirt rolling far away from the road. At first was afraid he would do down the steep cliff but then he realized he was rolling the opposite way.  The last thought he had was "Frank, that hurt." 

*~*

Frank slowed down his bike and veered off into the emergency landing watching anxiously as his brother weakly jumped out and landed in a heap of limbs near the mountain side. "Joe?" The bike screeched to a stop and Frank threw his helmet off running towards his younger brother.  "Joe, answer me." 

The red chevy pulled over for a split second, "Frank, is Joe ok?" Soda asked hanging out the window. 

"He's fine, keep going! I've called the cops, they said keep going up the mountain and they'll cut you off." 

"You got it!" 

The car sped off and carefully Frank knelt down and turned his brother down over onto his back. Nothing looked to seriously injured, they'd been lucky.  Slowly Joe's face contorted in pain as he came back to reality. "Frank," He croaked. 

"Yeh, it's alright. You're safe!" 

Joe relaxed into the ground this time in a more painful state of unconsciousness. Frank busied himself with getting the bleeding to stop on Joe's arm. 

[evanpeaters]

pegleg and lobster boy → 07.19

TIME FRAME: Friday 19th, July. LOCATIONS: World on Wheels, A&E, Los Angeles. DESCRIPTION: Evan and Madelaine decide to go to a disco roller rink, fully dressed up in 80′s gear, but things don’t go to plan.

@madelame-x

Madelaine: The redhead was sad she had to miss the wedding, she really wished she could’ve made it, but she had a commitment to the show and in the end, if someone had to miss it to go to the Convention, Lili was much closer to Saoirse, she’s gladly take the bullet to have her friends go and enjoy themselves while she stuck it out through all the panels. Madelaine loved conventions, she loved getting together with fans, filming content with them and just spending some time there before she either drove back home or retreated herself to the hotel room. Tonight though, it’d be a different kind of Friday night. God even knew how, but one way or the other, she’d flirted enough to get a date with Evan Peters. She’d gone back to LA for the night, figuring she’d wake up early on Sunday and drive to San Diego, so after getting ready in her best 80’s look, she was waiting for him while she munched on some cashew nuts and watched something random on the TV

Evan: Being a free, unemployed man had it’s ups and downs. For the most part, he was incredulously bored and rewatching seasons of shows that he’d never though he’d get to revisit in his life. While on the other hand, it kept him available for when random plans like going to a roller disco with Madelaine Petsch sprung up. He had no idea where he’d plucked the idea out of, only that he knew he needed to make it interesting to warrant the two hour drive for her the next morning. They’d found the perfect one in LA where the aesthetic was heavily based on the 80’s and of course, he was going to take full advantage of that - he was missing out on the 80’s season of AHS, so he’d damn well make up for it now by wearing short-shorts, an old windbreaker jacket and sports socks pulled up. Obviously that came with getting some odd looks as he strolled through the entrance of her housing complex, but he didn’t have it in him to feel any embarrassment. Pulling out his phone, Evan dropped her a text. ‘I’m here now. You better have matched my effort with your outfit, or I’m going to be sending you right back in’.

Madelaine: With her hair all done up to make it as fluffy as possible, a short neon pink short shorts and a crop top with heart shaped sunglasses, Madelaine picked up her tiny backpack and headed downstairs. She got the weirdest looks, but as soon as she laid eyes on Evan, she was pretty sure she wasn’t gonna be the only one turning heads around “All of a sudden, I feel like I’m in a movie” Madelaine said with a laugh as she reached out to greet him with a hug. “You ready for this? I’m putting a disclaimer out there, I’m incredibly clumsy so I’m sorry if I fall on you several times”

Evan: It was easy to spot Madelaine as she emerged, standing out from the others not only due to her outfit, but the way she carried herself. Embracing her back, Evan’s eyes gave her a once over and beamed in approval. “I couldn’t have even imagined you looking any more awesome” He stated in approval, wishing he’d also gone for the headband that he had dismissed as too much. “Is that a warning or a promise? Because I reckon I’ll be just as awful. I’ve never been able to master skateboarding no matter how hard I’ve tried, so I’ll be right down on my ass with you.” Keen to get moving, the actor led the female to the parking lot and clambered into his Landrover, immediately dialing the volume down as he had been blasting some Def Leppard on his way there - a far cry from the disco music they’d soon be surrounded by. The GPS was already programmed into finding the roller rink, and soon enough they were on their way. “You wanna be DJ? Cable’s right here..”

Madelaine: High top All Stars being rocked, she’d never felt more stupid but at the same time, more confident, which really gave her a good feeling about the night. “Thanks, I tried my best with whatever vintage shops had around LA but I’m proud of my look. You don’t look too shabby yourself” She said with a big smile. Walking side by side, Madelaine turned to Evan when he spoke back, laughing a little bit “Oh, well then, let’s just extend a blanket forgiveness for whoever injures the other, sounds good?” She teased. She scaled the step into the Land Rover and sat down, buckling up. “What is that… Give me that!” She pretended to be offended when he started blasting the music. Grabbing the cable, she opened up Spotify into the “All about the 80’s” playlist, Ah-Ha’s ‘Take on Me’ coming in full blast. She started dancing on her seat and chuckling “This is more like it!”

Evan: Now they were both fully warned on how potentially bad each other were going to be at the rink, Evan felt suddenly more reassured. It would’ve been just his luck to suggest something that the other person kicked ass at, while he was left behind, wobbling around. An unapologetic smile was shot over to Madelaine as she protested to his music taste, and he would’ve inflicted more on her just for kicks if he didn’t also have a mutual appreciation for the song she had put on. Wiggling in his seat, Evan tried his best to match her enthusiasm, though driving in LA was admittedly a huge ball ache. Settling on singing along to the playlist instead, Evan only got more and more into it with each surprising new song that came on next. By the time that they were pulling up to a traffic light, 'Hungry Like The Wolf’ was on, and in the car next to them sat a very conventional looking family, the parents looking bewildered and kids bemused as Evan rolled down his window and treated them to the 80’s throwback show.

Madelaine: With her eyes deep into her phone, Madelaine tried to make up a perfect queue with all the fantastic tunes that would match up to their 80’s fantasy. Having spent much of her lifetime stuck in LA traffic, the redhead had lost that habit though ever since she started working in Vancouver for 10 months out of the year. She tried not to get impatient and roll around with the music, stealing random glances from her skating partner, his windbreaker and the genuine smile on his face as he sang along were pulling the most of her attention. Laughing when he rolled the window down, the actress leaned forward and joined the serenade to the family SUV on the other side before the light turned back to green and they had to pull away from their stopping point. The looks on the kids were slightly lost and amused, but the parents were horrified. “How scarred do you think we left those parents?” She joked at him.

Evan: An entertaining car journey partner was always appreciated, so Evan couldn’t have been more thankful for the redhead joining in on their serenade rather than simply rolling her eyes. With one eye on the traffic lights, Evan floored it as soon as they turned back to green, leaving the SUV in their perplexed wake. “I feel like we just took them on a journey back in time to a time their minds forgot because they spent half of it on an acid trip. They’ll have good sex tonight. We did them a favor”. Doing that thing again where his mind drew completely random conclusions and his mouth brought them to life, Evan saw nothing presumptuous at all with his statement, and spent the rest of the journey going back to their vehicle disco. Within another ten minutes, they were pulling into the parking lot, and the male was pleasantly surprised to find it almost full. He’d kind of assumed that roller discos were something time had forgotten, but the beauty of nostalgia and wanting to experience a time you hadn’t fully got to live in clearly kept some customers 'rolling’ in.

Madelaine: Madelaine was about to talk into the beginning of his statement, but she was surprised when he kept on going and drew a full conclusion to the end, making her chuckle and shrug her shoulders a little bit “Maybe they fell in love in an acid trip, maybe they’ll try to re-live it tonight, we may have turned their marriage back into what they felt when they got hitched… We did good, buddy” She said with a small nod and a smile, giving him a clap on the shoulder and a chuckle escaped her throat as she did. The remainder of the drive was spent humming to the music and occasionally rocking out to banging tunes, but when they made it there, Madelaine was pleasantly surprised to see that most of the people were looked out like them “Well this is a party if I’ve ever seen one… Come on, let’s go” She said with a bright smile, all but jumping out of the truck and walking inside with him. Stepping inside the place, she felt a loud booming of the music, turning to look at Evan with a bright smile.

Evan: At least he wasn’t alone in his thought process, it sounded like Madelaine got exactly where he was coming from, and Evan nodded along in agreement. The rink certainly didn’t disappoint as they stepped inside it, the vibe was infectious, and he immediately felt as if they’d made the right call. “Alriiiight.” He exclaimed, excitedly, making a beeline over to the skate rental and trading in his size 10’s. “Aren’t you glad this is the way you’ve chosen to start your weekend off?” And they hadn’t even really got started yet, but he could already tell the day was going to go smoothly.

Madelaine: She could feel her body start to swivel and her feet got a little dancey when they stepped into the place. When he beelined towards the skating place, Madelaine stepped in time behind him and looked around, captivated by the flashing lights and the amazing colors, she looked like a kid in Disney on her first time. Asking for her 6.5 skates, they got handed their pairs and went to sit down on a stool. Slipping the skates on, she couldn’t help but to let out a nervous laugh. She was gonna make such an asshole out of herself, but it was gonna be a fun night. “I absolutely am… As much as I love the con parties, this is… Certainly a better activity” She added. She could’ve gotten vlogging content for her YouTube channel, but this… This was much better.

Evan: didn’t know what it said about him that he was /this/ excited to get out onto the ‘dance floor’, both of them had smiles which threatened to make their jaw ache later, just like everybody else in the place, and the whole atmosphere was infectious. Lacing up his boots, Evan had his on quicker than Madelaine so took it upon himself to get on his knees and lace her second one up. Any time not spent seeing how disastrous they could be was time wasted. Then, he attempted to skate to the rink, the padded flooring making it more of an awkward waddle over there. “Shit, I’m not holding out a lot of hope right now if I’m this awkwardly footed on the non-slippery flooring”, he spoke over his shoulder to Madelaine, flashing her a comic expression before gliding out onto the dancefloor

Madelaine: Long nails and tight laces weren’t really two things that should happen together, nope. The moment the redhead tried to pick the laces from the skating boots to tighten them, she found herself struggling like an idiot, so when Evan knelt down to help her, she picked up her lips in a smile as a quick thank you. The faster she could get this done, the more time they’d spend roller skating… or figuring out how to stay on their feet, actually. Laughing at the way he waddled down the narrow carpet towards the rink, Madelaine tried to calm herself down. He was probably just as awkward as she was, so if anything, this would be more fun than traumatizing. “Hey, I don’t think I’m gonna be much better” She said with a laugh, mimicking his expression. The moment the wheels under her feet touched a slippery surface, she gasped and let out a quiet squeal “Oh God!” Her hands grasped at the railing. Everyone around them looked like either professionals or uncoordinated idiots like them.

Evan: Like with iceskating, it was definitely a wobbly start while you were trying to find your footing - it didn’t help that the last time he had rollerbladed had probably been +10 years ago, but he was a show off at heart, and even though he was just getting re-acquainted with the skates, the actor turned to face Madelaine, rather slowly managing to skate backwards instead. 'Born to Handjive’ from the Grease soundtrack was playing, so he worked his best 'mashed potato’ hand movements until a couple who clearly spent far too much time here sped past, twirling their way across the dancefloor, sending him into a complete wobble. “Show offs”. He mumbled, rolling his eyes over at Madelaine. “How ya doing there, red? Did you uh…is it a personal choice to be travelling at the speed of a baby sloth?”

Madelaine: She wasn’t gonna lie to herself, hell no, Madelaine was terrified. She’d been a dancer for most of her childhood years, where was all that dexterity and capability now, for fuck’s sake! The music was relaxing her, and slow but steadily, she was starting to stop moving herself by gripping the railing and pulling on it to push herself forward, and letting go of it to actually move and shuffle her legs. Laughing at Evan’s failed attempt to dance and his face contorting back to a scowl when he saw the clearly very experienced couple, she couldn’t help it but laugh “Oh my God, shut up, I hate you!” She said with a loud laugh, looking down at her feet, terrified to even move too far away from the railing “Uhm, excuse me, I don’t see you moving all that fast and far away, buddy”

Evan: Glancing around to check the coast was clear of that distracting as heck couple, Evan made his way back over to where Madelaine had managed to…pull herself? “I’m only going this slow so I can stick close to you. You know the drill, never leave a man behind”. Okay, so maybe that was a stretch from the truth. Maybe he hadn’t grown the ability to speed off and weave in and out of the others yet, but he sure as hell was picking it up with more ease than the actress. A smile that struggling not to be smug on his face, Evan held out his hand for Madelaine, hoping she would substitute the railing for his own balance. “Come on, we’re getting in the middle”.

Madelaine: This should’ve been easier, come on Madelaine, get yourself together, you’re looking like an idiot! The redhead tried to convince herself, to pull some of Cheryl’s fake confidence to herself and with a deep breath, she let go of the rails and put her hands up to her sides to balance herself “Alright, alright, I’m getting there… Leave no man behind, you’re full of crap” She said, rolling her eyes before smiling back at him. Looking at his hands, she reached out to grab them, the first impulse in her body when she could take a grip of something was to go strong for it, so she almost even leaned a little bit into her arms when she felt the support from him “To the middle? Oh God I-Oh shit” She cursed out as she started slipping around. She wasn’t falling but this certainly was faster than desirable “If you let go of my hands, I’m going to murder you”

Evan: It really was rapidly getting easier for Evan, so with every surge of newfound confidence, he wanted to push Madelaine a little further and he couldn’t help but pull her along with him the more and more he sped up. “I’m not gonna let go, I promise. Although…you might start wanting me to, soon. I mean look at this, I’m pretty much pro now” gesturing down at the very standard skating that was taking place, Evan knew full well that if anything else was required of him - if he had to turn suddenly, or even try a jump - he knew he’d go crashing down onto his ass, so this would do for now. “You’ve also progressed to fully grown sloth now, so I’m proud of you”.

Madelaine: The middle of the rink was less crowded, with all the people who wanted to go fast and move at a faster-than-glacier pace moving out to the edges, they were left almost alone in the middle of the floor and with less people around, Evan was starting to pick up a little speed and oh dear, Madelaine’s pale delicate hands were about to squeeze the life out of his broad ones. “Well then, Mr. Pro, go on and do a fun trick for everyone to baffle at your wonderful skills” She taunted him and laughed, trying to look at his feet. He was getting the hang of it, so she tried to copy him. One foot outwards, then back in, then the other one. Okay it wasn’t that hard. Rolling her eyes at the comparison, she groaned “Next time, we’re going to a ballet studio and I’m showing you how it’s done” She said with a laugh, needing to prove herself “Okay this is- I’m… This is actually- Okay” She spoke to herself as she started gaining more and more confidence, the grip on the blonde’s hands starting to loosen but definitely still there, mostly for moral support.

Evan: With less people around to crash into, Evan did feel like getting a little more experimental, though he was sure he’d come to regret it if he crashed and burned, not only infront of Madelaine, but everyone else in the rink. Plus, his white short-shorts threatened to rip if he tried anything too vigorous. “You told me not to let go of your hand yet, remember? So are you going to be doing this with me, or what?”. On his own, he probably would’ve just thrown his body down onto the floor, completed the worm and called it a day, but how hard could partner tricks be, really? “So bring some of that ballet grace here. Teach me how to pirouette, if you can. Which I reckon you can. You’re just in your own head right now because you’re worried about falling over and hurting yourself - but weren’t you like that on the first day of your ballet classes, too?”

Madelaine: When Evan proposed she’d do a trick with her, Madelaine’s big brown eyes widened and she shook her head “Oh no.. No no… No no no, don’t worry about me” She said with a laugh, licking her lips “I don’t think I could do any of that and ballet… In ballet you’re standing on your own feet, not on wheels! It’s like- For a pirouette, you just grab momentum and you have to go on pointe, lift your leg- And that’s just not gonna happen here” She said with a chuckle. “But here- lets see I… Mhm” She hesitated for a second before she pulled her hands back. Not too far, since she wanted to be right there if she needed to grab them again, but she straightened up her spine and looked up at him with a big smile, like a child coming back from school with a good grade “Look! Look I’m doing this” She almost yelled with pride, which turned a lot of heads who gave her some very weird looks, but she couldn’t care less.

Evan: In hindsight, maybe it was a good idea Evan couldn’t talk her into trying any tricks. He was just tapping into his inner motivational speaker when he didn’t know what the fuck he was talking about - pirouettes were hard enough to master on your own toes, never mind on wheels. Still, it seemed to have instilled some confidence in her as she let go of his hand and took a better stance. The looks she was getting for her outburst only made Evan want to her obnoxiously loud with her, which he did, whooping and clapping as the girl managed to skate alongside him unaided. “You’re a graceful motherfucking Dove right now. Dove Cameron, who? Here’s Dove Petsch, coming through!”

Madelaine: Back upright, strength in her core, her legs were strong but her knees were bent as she used them to push downwards and out, once each time, this was easy, no wonder Evan had picked it up so quickly. Laughing when he started cheering her on, the redhead rolled her eyes and scoffed “Oh my God, you’re such an ass” She said with a laugh, letting herself relax a little now that she’d gotten into the rhythm of things. “With normal skates, this would’ve been a lot easier, it’s this freaking shoe thing with the four wheels, it’s like stepping on a toy car and- Oh shit”. Madelaine squealed before launching herself forward after putting too much weight on one of the outside wheels and it gave out under her weight, twisting her ankle under her body and making her fall to the ground arms first. “Fuck- that hurt a lot” She said between laughs, turning herself around and laying on her back with her sore leg laying down “I told you this would happen” She couldn’t stop laughing, a hand coming over her eyes.

Evan: Evan felt like a proud father as he watched Madelaine fly the nest, her speed picking up as she put some distance between them…and then, she was crashing to the ground. “Oh…fuck” Evan let out, immediately skating to her side, a concerned look on his face as he practically skidded to his knees. Please don’t cry, please don’t cry, he inwardly begged, hoping she hadn’t hurt herself too much and would consequently hate him for bringing her there. Then, her body started rocking and Evan reached out to…cradle her? He guessed, he didn’t know, he was awful at this sort of stuff. Laughter replaced any tears, and without knowing what was going on, the actor let out a couple of nervous laughs himself. “Why are you laughing?! Oh god, is this a 'laugh so you don’t cry sorta situation right now? Are you actually hurt? Where does it hurt?”

Madelaine: She’d always been the kind of person who’d rather laugh at her own foolishness before everyone started laughing at her, and this was no different than any other case. Before Evan started laughing at her, at least he’d be laughing with her. Plus, the situation was incredibly comical, if nothing else. Watching him come towards her and cradle her, concern in his eyes as he tried to figure out why the hell was she laughing instead of bitching and moaning, Madelaine shook her head and smiled at him “I’m laughing because I just ate shit in tiny short shorts in front of everyone here, how could I not laugh” She said between laughs “I’m fine, I think I’m fine” She said, happily leaning on him for support and sitting upright “I’m okay, I’m- Oh, my ankle” She said as she pulled her leg back and her ankle twinged

Evan: Now that Madelaine was putting it into words, Evan could appreciate how ridiculous the whole scenario was, and actually let himself laugh along to it with her. Other people were skating past glancing their way, but the fact they were both laughing probably dismissed the idea of her needing help. Moving to get back to his feet, Evan stopped mid-action as the redhead winced in pain while attempting to move. “Shit.” he let out, his mind instantly jumping to conclusions that she’d broken it. “Can you stand on it at all? Here -” holding out a hand and supporting her under the elbow, Evan attempted to pull her up - a feat made a lot more difficult thanks to the rollerskates. In hindsight, maybe he should’ve taken them off first.

Madelaine: Keeping her foot off the ground, which was heavier even with the skate, the redhead tried not to wince too hard when she stood up and allowed her weight to rest on Evan “I.. Shit- I don’t think I can” She said with a small chuckle. Looking down at their feet, Madelaine looked up at him and narrowed her eyes a little bit “Two people and three legs on skates… Why do I have a feeling this is not gonna be a good idea”

Evan: Full time carer mode activated when Madelaine admitted she couldn’t put any pressure on her ankle, and he was definitely in agreement to it not being a good idea for him to attempt to skate along, dragging a one-legged female in his wake. “Yeah, you’re right, one second”. With one arm still around Madelaine, Evan fumbled with his laces until they were loose enough for him to pull his skates off, one by one, wobbling haphazardly the entire time. Once they were off, he ditched them in the middle of the rink and padded back to the entrance in his socks, rolling Madelaine along with him. In a way, their predicament had now come in handy so she wouldn’t have to hop along or get him to carry her - which wouldn’t be the case once they’d left the establishment, but the thought of giving her a piggy back around didn’t bother him in the slightest. Once they had left the dancefloor, Evan sat Madelaine down onto the nearest bench and got back to his knees, his eyes holding her own gaze as he spoke. “Alright so, I’m not gonna lie, this is probably gonna hurt…” trailing off, the actor attempted to get her skate off as gently as possible, which would’ve been a lot easier if they weren’t high-tops.

Madelaine: With one arm wrapped around Evan’s shoulders and the other one holding onto his bicep, Madelaine tried her best to keep her balance and roll her way from the middle of the rink to the small exit door, following him and trying her best to hop and scoot herself onto where they once sat to put these death traps on. “Yeah I- Oh ouch ouch ow ow ow!” She whimpered as Evan started to unlace the shoes and pull them off. She hated being the whiny girl, she was always so strong and fended for herself, so this was less than desirable. As he was managed to slip the injured feet’s skate off, the redhead bent down to try and take the other one off “I told you this was gonna end badly, I’m so sorry” She said, biting her lip and shaking her head as she kicked the other one off and sighed.

Evan: hated hearing Madelaine in pain, especially knowing he was the one that was sort of inflicting it on her by trying to get the boot off, but he couldn’t give up half way, and with the last little wiggle, he’d managed to free her foot. The sounds she was making definitely wasn’t promising, and normally he wouldn’t resort straight to this, but he knew she was a busy girl who couldn’t just let wait to let recovery happen without actually knowing what they were dealing with. “Don’t be sorry at all, if anyone should be sorry, it should be me. This was my idea, and you’re probably gonna hate me even more for suggesting this, but…I think we need to get you to the hospital. I can carry you out to my car? I know this isn’t exactly how you planned to spend your con weekend, and I feel so fucking bad”.

Madelaine: “Hey, no, don’t say that!” Madelaine said with a smile, shaking her head a little bit “I wanted to come here, and let’s face it, in the twenty minutes we spent in there I had the time of my life… Before my clumsy self kicked in” The redhead said, a shrug picking up her shoulders with a small smile to make him feel better. The rink people brought them their shoes over, seeing that Madelaine was struggling a little bit and Evan was helping, and she thanked them with a kind smile. “Really?” The girl asked her companion “Do you think it’s like… Hospital bad?” She asked, looking down at her feet. It was certainly swollen, but at least it wasn’t broken or anything, right? Hearing him offer to carry her to his car, Mads furrowed her brow “I haven’t had a good piggy back in ages… Turn around” She said, picking her Converse up by the high top and waiting until he turned around and lowered himself enough for her to jump on his back.

Evan: Evan’s concerned expression melted into a smile as Madelaine reassured him. He too had been enjoying himself thoroughly until the inevitable happened and one of them bit the dust. “Hey, if it wasn’t going to be you, it would’ve been me, so either way one of us was going to end up carried out of here, and I think you would’ve struggled a little more carrying my ass out. Also, it’s better to be safe than sorry, right? I’d rather them do x-rays on it now than to find out your ballet days are behind you in a few months when the bone fuses back together in some gnarly, unaligned way”. Scooping up his own shoes, Evan got into position for her to be able to hop on with ease, and made his way out of the building. “See ya later, 80th century. It’s been emotional”. He declared as they re-entered the parking lot, spinning back around so he could place her onto the passenger seat. “Alright, I know a hospital pretty close to here, and I’ll drive you to San Diego in the morning so don’t even…worry about that”.

Madelaine: He always had to make it odd, first with the couple who got married on an acid trip, now with her bones fusing into an anthropomorphic mess of a leg, and Madelaine couldn’t help it but laugh. Even if she was in slight pain and was getting carried out of a skating rink on the back of someone she’d only met today, she was smiling, and that meant a lot to her. “Well, I can’t have that! How’s the show gonna explain that? Oh, Cheryl got into a bad cheerleading accident and had to have her ankle and foot replaced by a stump, we’ve swapped her storyline, now she’s half pirate” She said with an eloquent voice, as if she were pitching the idea to show runners. Sliding herself onto the seat and buckling up, the concern in Evan’s voice made her heart melt “Hey, don’t worry about that… You’re doing more than enough now. I mean, sitting in a waiting room in those short shorts? They’re gonna wanna take -you- in for tests”

Evan: “I mean…a storyline like that would /definitely/ make me want to watch the show. You said she was a closeted bitch at first, so she’s changed slightly already, why not go the full stretch and have her be a pirate in the next season?” Sliding back into the seat that he was unaware he’d be sitting back in so soon, Evan buckled himself in and began the drive to the nearest hospital, chuckling softly at the thought of them sat side by side in the accident and emergency department dressed how they were. If anything, hopefully it would give the staff on shift a smile. “So what’s the story we’re going with? Are we gonna pretend you hurt it doing something a lot more badass than struggling to roller skate, or are we just going to hope and pray that they’ve had this kind of scenario before?”

Madelaine: “Of course the peg leg girl would attract the lobster claw boy” Madelaine said with an eyeroll and a laugh, her whole body semi-turned to face him as he drove her. He really didn’t have to, so she appreciated that he was taking the time to do this for her. Making sure she had everything she needed in her backpack, the redhead allowed herself to flump back down on the seat “I mean, with Riverdale you never know, maybe the next villain will be a crazy pirate and Cheryl will be his side kick” She joked. “Mhm…” His question took her a little off guard “I think they must’ve seen this before. Maybe not the disco rink, but the outfits? Definitely. Remember all the acid marriages, they need to re-live their golden years, and I’m sure there’s gotta be more than one fella who goes wild for these short shorts” She said, shimmying her butt on the seat for a second before groaning, she’d moved her ankle a bit and it stung again.

Evan: “Peg leg girl and lobster claw boy, now that sounds like a duo that I could…ship?” He stated, attempting to use the terminology that he’d seen fans use so many times. From the sounds of it, with their wacky plotlines, maybe Riverdale wasn’t so different from AHS afterall, only a lot less serious and a lot more camp. “I honestly think you should suggest that - a crazy pirate sounds like the perfect addition to your show.” Attempting to keep the conversation flowing to take Madelaine’s mind off the pain, Evan cast a glance over at the female as she shimmied and instantly regretted it. “Alright, you…stop being all bubbly until further notice, if you can. That’s doctors orders” He demanded, resuming more small talk until they’d reached the hospital, where he parked the car and got back into position for her to climb on his back again. Maybe it was a little extra, but it was a hell of a lot faster just to carry her than to make her hop alongside him, with a lot less movement on her part as well. Reaching the front desk of the accident department, the clerk saw to them pretty sharpishly once she realised Madelaine was on his back. “So uh, we have a case of terrible roller-skater here with possibly sprained or broken ankle…”

Madelaine: With a made up frown on her face, Madelaine tried to stay put on her ass while Evan drove them to the emergency room. Looking down at her feet, she couldn’t help it but laugh a little bit, throwing her head back to the head rest and closing her eyes for a split second, taking in a deep breath and letting it out with a grumpy sigh “I have to wear heels tomorrow for interviews!” She whined into the air before chuckling quietly. It could’ve been a lot worse. The pain, as annoying as it was, was completely bearable and she could put up with it until the end of the weekend. Watching him pull into the parking spaces, the redhead re-assumed her shimmying technique until the end of the seat and went up on her companion’s back, resting her head on his shoulders. The emergency area wasn’t too crowded, mostly people who were clearly not feeling well, but no actual emergencies they could be stopping. “Oh hi” She said with a bright smile, waving her hand to the nurse on the other side of the counter. “Oh, put her down on that chair, we’ll take care of it” The nurse said, pointing at a wheelchair with a male nurse holding it. Dismounting Evan’s back, Madelaine hopped onto the chair, handing her backpack and shoes over to the blonde boy “I’m sure I won’t be long. Just some X-Rays before I see the doctor, right?” She asked, looking back at the nurse. “Yeah, you can wait here, your girlfriend will be right back” He said as he started wheeling her away.

Evan: It was just Evan’s luck that he’d managed to hang out with some female company, and once again, they were whisked away by some hunky dude. Only this time, they weren’t dating, and afore mentioned hunky dude was simply her nurse. That was better than what he was used to. As they rolled away, Evan only just registered what the staff member had said, so had to raise his voice a little for his response to be heard. “Bold of you to assume I could land someone that hot!” he called out jokingly, sticking his hand into the bowl of candy that sat upon the desk, noticing the clerk giving him a judgemental look as he unwrapped the sweet and popped it into his mouth. “What’s up?” He spoke with no response. “...You come here often?”

Madelaine: It must’ve taken around half an hour to fourty five minutes before all the X-Rays were taken, but Madelaine really wasn’t rushed at all. Many nurses came over to ask her about the show, and she was happy to see the fans ranged from all ages and professions. If someone as serious as a doctor could watch something as camp-y as Riverdale, they were doing a good job. By the end of it, she was getting rolled back to Evan in the waiting room with a smile on her face and a bandage on her leg. “Hey, you” She said with a big smile “So, no big heels while standing up, you can wear them for interviews and photo ops, but try and get down to flats as soon as possible, and ice whenever you can, alright? The pain should be gone in 3 to 5 days, it’s just a hard twist, not even a sprain. You’ve got a very good friend here who made sure you didn’t step on it” The Doctor said while looking at Evan and then the girl “Thank you so much, Doctor- Oh wait, can I have your pen?” She said, looking down and then at Evan “Pass me my backpack?” She asked, quickly pulling out her wallet. Taking out one business card, she scribbled her signature and the names of the two daughters he’d mentioned were big fans of the show before handing it and the pen back “Make sure to have them come over to San Diego any time of the weekend if they want, I’ll walk outside to give them a hug… Or maybe this guy can give me a piggyback ride” She teased, looking at Evan and giving him a wink.

Evan: Drumming his fingers absentmindedly against the arms of the chair he was sat on, Evan didn’t even notice the looks the clerk kept giving him, his presence clearly irritating her. He was used to that. Blame it on his ADD, he barely even noticed anymore when he was being a little shit. Finally, there was movement out of the corner of his eye, and his 80’s clad friend was being wheeled back towards him. Getting up with a grin, Evan flashed her a thumbs up at the bandage. “Nice. I’m liking the SDCC accessory of choice”, he teased, knowing full well that a girl as fashion forward as Madelaine wouldn’t wear it and do her best to pretend nothing was wrong with her ankle tomorrow. He watched on as she refused to let herself leave without giving a little something back to the doctor who had taken care of her, and he had to smile, most people would’ve been in too much of a hurry to cater to their own needs to think about others. “Well, I don’t know about /that/, I’ve gotta be in Italy tomorrow…but tell you what, you need to rest, I figure we can’t do anything that requires you standing up anymore, so I’ll drive you to San Diego. Today, in your car. That way I don’t have to leave you straight away, and we can talk a little more? Or…carry on serenading random car loads of people?”

Madelaine: Rolling her eyes at Evan’s comment, Madelaine couldn’t help it but smile. He knew full and well that she wouldn’t wear the bandage, but she’d try to do the best with her ice packs and resting the leg, but Cheryl wasn’t gonna go down to her flats, and neither was she, so it’d just have to fix itself with time. Watching the whole medical staff wave goodbye and leave them, Madelaine reached up with her hands as if to ask Evan for a hand to hold and get up. She could hop towards the car, he’d carried her enough and as much as she joked about, he’d done more than she’d expected. “Yeah, I think I’m out of commission… I’m sorry I had to cut our night at the rink short, you looked like a natural” She said with a small smile “You wanna drive two hours to San Diego?” She asked, eyebrow cocked up. “I mean, yeah of course, I don’t have much to do tonight, but do you really wanna do that?” She wanted to invite him over to her house and they could talk there, he didn’t have to do all that for her.

Evan: Taking Madelaine’s hand, Evan helped her to her feet and propped an arm over his shoulder, both of them a little more lenient with how much movement she made now they knew it wasn’t broken. That had to be relieving for her, she had a heck of a lot to do that weekend and he would’ve felt endlessly guilty if she couldn’t dive into it as much as she wanted. Although, if he were honest with himself, he’d get a little kick out of seeing all of the professional shots of the Riverdale crew looking glamorous, with a wink to their few hours spent in LA together in the form of a bandage on her ankle. “It’s totally cool, if we had stayed any longer I probably would’ve grown /too/ good at it, and people would’ve been marvelling, it would’ve been embarrassing, you know?” Hopping back into his own car, Evan waited for them to settle on a destination before he bothered putting the key in the ignition. “I mean, it makes sense, you can’t really drive with a jacked up ankle, I don’t know how else your car would get to San Diego, and I can easily get a train or bus back, it’s chill. I’m making the decision for you”.

Madelaine: Hopping back towards the car, Madelaine gripped onto Evan’s waist tightly as she tried to steady herself and balance everything she had going on while they made it back. Getting on the truck was hard now that she wasn’t getting positioned from his back, but once she managed to get in there, she happily buckled in and let her foot rest on her healthy leg “You probably would’ve ended up getting like, scouted for a national 80’s roller derby team, and what would’ve been of your acting career? Someone with that much rollering skills can’t drop out of such a thing, you had to represent your country! Really, it’s for the best, I did you a favor in the end” She added with a small shrug, trying to keep a straight face for as long as she could before she cracked. Hearing him say that he’d happily drive her and taken a bus back to LA had the redhead shaking her head “What? No way, no, I refuse. We can go home, and open a bottle of wine and talk until the sun comes out if you want, but I’m not gonna let you do that. I’m… Very thankful, but I’ve got castmates who are driving from here, my stylist and make up team, an Uber, there’s plenty of ways I can get there. And you’ve got a flight to catch in the morning.”

Evan: Evan wasn’t sure what he expected Madelaine to be like, but honestly…this wasn’t it. He’d probably thought she’d take herself more seriously, so was pleasantly surprised to find out she can be just as goofy as himself - her next joke proved it. Shaking off the laugh that consumed them both for a moment, the male got the car started and buckled himself in. “Alright, if you’re sure. The option’s always there. But I like the sound of your idea, too....Your place or mine?”

[cullywullycurlywurly]

Fire at the Heart of the World Chapter 1

Also available on AO3 here!

Summary: Caitlin moved to the city of Redcliffe to pursue her dreams; new job, new home, new life. The gorgeous watch commander of the local fire service that lives across the hall is just an added bonus. But as their relationship grows, old secrets and new troubles threaten to burn them both. Modern Thedas AU. Firefighter!Cullen with a heavy load of baggage, and a Trevelyan desperate to find out the truth.

The first time they met, it was the very definition of ‘bumping into each other’.

Caitlin had always imagined the sun would pour from the sky on the day she moved to her first home, that rainbows would shine above the very building and the birds would sing her an entrance chorus. That’s what TV made it look like, anyway.

So far, she’d managed to get herself soaked through to her pants in the rain, smashed both a photo frame and soap dish, and stubbed her toe at least twice. To make matters even worse, the elevator was out ofa order and the boxes seemed to be getting heavier and heavier.

So much for the rainbows and birds.

This was supposed to be her fresh start. A new job, with the largest newspaper in Thedas, as a journalist for the Redcliffe Daily. That had always been her dream - move to a big city, get a fast paced job and carve herself out an oh so metropolitan life. Thanks to her closest friend, Josephine, she’d been headhunted for a position with Ferelden News Inc, and when the most gorgeous apartment had appeared on the market, with perhaps the prettiest city view she had ever seen, Caitlin had jumped at the chance. A whole new country, a brand new home in the bustling city of Redcliffe… she should’ve been excited. Josephine most certainly had.

'Oh, how good it will be to have you close by once more! Think of the fun we will have!'

In all fairness, the excitement was still present but moving large boxes to the sixth floor was quickly tiring her out, and Caitlin could feel the grumblings of hunger and the dull ache of a headache coming on. She had been battling with an especially large box of pots and pans that had been far heavier than she had anticipated when her luck finally gave out at the bottom of the stairwell. They wobbled, and they tipped, and Caitlin was preparing for a black eye when the quick thinking of a pair of strong arms had saved both her and their owner’s head from the certain doom of a steel lid to the face. Caitlin stared at the miraculously contained box, pans teetering close to the edge, before shamefully bursting in apologies, cheeks burning with embarrassment.

“Oh, I’m so sorry. I’m such a clumsy oaf! I’m sorry, I didn’t realise you were there, I-”

“It’s alright, honestly. Let me give you a hand with that. It’s a bugger when the lift is out.” The tall, broad shoulders and blonde head of curls that appeared from behind the box took her by surprise, but not nearly as much as the bright, golden eyes that followed, framed by long darker lashes and accompanied by a lopsided grin that seemed to light the room.

Maker above, he was gorgeous.

“Oh…” Caitlin stared at him, before her senses seemed to quickly return. “Well, only if you’re sure.” He took the box wordlessly as confirmation that he was indeed sure. They stood, staring at one another, before Caitlin became aware that the reason they were doing so was that only she knew of the items’ intended destination. “Oh...right. Yes. I’m upstairs, I’m just moving in.”

“So the boxes overloaded with saucepans would suggest.”

“It’s my last box, I’ll have you know.” The stranger’s smile stretched into a grin, confirming his gentle mockery of her situation, and Caitlin huffed as they climbed the final sets of stairs before stopping on the sixth floor, fumbling for the keys in her pocket. Her newfound friend stared at her, blinking in surprise, before gesturing towards her apartment door.

“You’re the new tenant of 6A then?”

The key turned in the lock, Caitlin pushing the door open before cocking her head to one side, nodding. “Yes. I’m Caitlin.”

“Well, yes, I suppose that’d be right. Sorry... I should introduce myself.” Her valiant saviour chuckled and placed the large box on the ground, before offering a hand, an awkward but kind smile on his face. “I’m Cullen. I... live across the hall with my flatmate, Rylen, in 6B. He’s out right now but I’ll be sure to let him know you’ve moved in.”

“Right…Well, it’s a pleasure to meet you, Cullen.” That was stating the obvious. Friendly, polite and easy on the eyes - maybe the rainbows and birds hadn’t materialised, but she’d take him instead. Keep it cool, Trevelyan.

“Likewise. Are you from around here?” At her inquisitive look, the man shrugged, quickly continuing. “It’s just, your accent...you sound like you are from the Free Marches.”

His earlier confidence has somewhat dissipated, and the shy curiosity made her chuckle. “You’ve got a good ear. I’m from Ostwick, in the north of the Marches.”

“I see… I lived in Kirkwall, for a time. Before I moved back home here, to Ferelden...” Cullen’s hand found the back of his neck, awkward and unsure, before he cleared his throat, glancing towards the open door. “I should let you get moved in. I’m sure you’ve got lots to do and you don’t need me distracting you. If you need anything, please just knock, we’d be happy to help.”

“Don’t say that, you’ll never get rid of my hopeless self...and thank you, y’know, for the help.” Caitlin waved a hand at the piled box at her feet. “Saving my saucepans and all that.”

“Anytime.” Cullen chuckled, before crossing the hall and unlocking the apartment door and, with a quick glance back, disappeared inside. Almost immediately, Caitlin groaned into her scarf, cursing her very existence as her forehead met the doorframe.

Saving my saucepans. Andraste’s ass Caitlin, where did you pull that one from? He must think you are a complete idiot. What kind of person tries to drop an entire box of steel pans on their neighbour, and then comes out with something like that? He’ll avoid you like the plague now. Welcome to Redcliffe, you idiot.

After the near disaster that was her welcoming to Redcliffe, Caitlin found she settled in fairly quickly. The apartment soon became home to her, little touches of her own quickly making it comfortable and cosy. Her mother seemed to have stocked her with enough candles to last until the next age, and there was nothing Caitlin found more relaxing than curling up on the large sofa with several lit, a book in hand, looking out over the darkened city as night fell.

She had no further incidents with her neighbours - indeed, her interactions had been (disappointingly) limited. They passed from time to time on the stairs, or in the laundry room; brief, polite and friendly as always. From what she could tell, both Cullen and his flatmate worked long shifts - well, judging by the amount of parcels she received on Rylen’s behalf, anyway. She hadn’t had the chance to ask just what they did.

Her workplace had proven to be everything she had imagined, and then some. The glittering building of the Redcliffe Daily welcomed her in each morning, and in amongst the coffee runs, meetings and conferences, Caitlin found her place. Her editor already had her working on several projects she had expressed an interest in, and she was thankful for it. Strict and precise, prompt and punctual, Cassandra Pentaghast ran a tight ship - but Caitlin couldn’t help but feel beneath it, she was not as cold as she would like to have the world believe. She was a stern woman, with short dark hair and a piercing gaze, but fair, honest and kind when she needed to be. Caitlin had settled in at the office with ease, and found her colleagues warm and approachable (save for Solas, the political editor who kept himself very much to himself). Josephine, by the luck of the draw, was in the same office, only a few desks down, and the two women often spent coffee break together, discussing their latest stories and planning movie nights with a bottle of wine.

Today’s assignment was less of her usual investigative work and more plain old journalism. A building fire at one of the homes on Amaranthine Street. Simple local stories that would be the fodder for the morning print. She was to go down and see if there was a story to be had, something to fill the pages. It seemed simple enough, but the city was still somewhat of a maze to her, and by the time Caitlin had found the correct street, the fire had been doused, and the crowd had mostly dispersed. She noted one police vehicle, it’s officers seemingly interviewing somebody, and instead ducked around the side of one of the large fire engines, hoping for luck. As it happened, luck was on her side - a suited firefighter stood at the side of it, humming as he tucked equipment back into the side compartments, and Caitlin cleared her throat as she approached.

“Excuse me. I wonder if I could have a word.” She needn’t have been so polite. As soon as the man turned to her, she could have laughed - familiar sharp features, sparkling blues eyes and a wild mop of dark hair gave him away instantly. “Well, well, Rylen. So this is where you are when I am signing for all of your parcels.”

Rylen cracked into a grin, leaning an elbow against the vehicle. Far cockier than his well-mannered room mate, but equally as charming in his own way. She would never have admitted it, but she’d developed a soft spot for Rylen in the short time she had known him. “Caitlin Trevelyan. What are you doing here? I didn’t know you were press.”

“I didn’t know you were a fireman.”

“Guess it’s a learning experience for both of us, huh? Well, if you’re here for some high-drama scoop, I’m afraid you’re all out of luck.” He dangled what she could barely recognise as a chicken from his gloved hand, charred to near cinders, and laughed as she drew back, repulsed. “Someone was feeling a little peckish and put dinner in. Then promptly fell asleep on the sofa.”

Caitlin pulled a face, brow creasing. “Oh. That’s...unfortunate.”

“Well, it was for a chicken. And the owner’s kitchen too.”

“Rylen!” A figure approached them, glancing back at the house over his shoulder as he walked, and Caitlin felt her stomach spin - of course it was him. Where there was smoke, there was fire. How apt. “I’m going to start writing the incident report, get Delrin to-” The man stopped, bright, golden eyes widening in surprise, her presence catching him by surprise. His usually neat curls were splayed beneath the helmet, soot dusting the front ones, and ash almost as powder on his cheeks. The bulky uniform and heavy equipment made him seem so much taller than usual, but it could be nobody else.

“Hello, Cullen.”

“Caitlin.”

He blinked once more in surprise, and her words seemed to twist in her mouth, before managing to stumble over an explanation. “I’m here with work, my editor sent me down. They were looking for a late story to add to our print run...” She saw him eye the ‘press’ pass around her neck, before Rylen butted in, chicken swinging from his hand.

“I’ve told her there’s not much to see, no... fowl play after all.”

“You’ve been waiting to use that one, haven’t you?” Cullen’s exasperated tone was betrayed by the glimmer of humour in his eyes, before he looked back to Caitlin. “The homeowners are with the police, if you want to talk to them. You could always run a story on remembering not to fall asleep with your Sunday roast cooking…Might save us a little time in the future, and maybe someone’s kitchen.”

The tug of a smirk at the edges of his lips made her laugh, the small glimpse behind his careful facade of serious professionalism, and she drummed her fingers on her notepad. “Is that an official statement for me?”

His smirk widened with a chuckle, shaking his head, before a shout of ‘Commander!’ came from the building, Cullen turning to answer. Caitlin peered at him, raising a curious eyebrow, before looking to Rylen, who grinned with a pointed finger.

“Now you know why he’s a hardass. Don’t let him fool you, he’s only in charge for the fancy hat though. The yellow clashes with his angelic curls, the white suits him much better.”

Caitlin suppressed a giggle, before tapping a finger to the front of Rylen’s helmet. “And yet, they only painted half of yours white? For shame.”

“Ah, my lady. I could only aspire to such a majestic helmet.”

“Don’t egg him on.” Cullen had turned back to them, immediately looking as though he regretted it as Rylen cackled in glee.

“Egg . Hilarious. You’re funny after all!”

Cullen rolled his eyes, before another shouted reply came for him from the building, and he gave her an apologetic smile with a sigh. “Sorry, I’ll have to catch you later. Good luck with your story... Rylen, get rid of that thing before I see you again.” He prodded at the chicken in the man’s hand, before he was gone, trudging back into the mix of smoke and debris around the building.

“As you can see, being second in command gets all the fun jobs,” Rylen whined, before sighing, his grin reappearing, offering her a wave as he headed back towards the house. “I’ll see you later on, Trevelyan. Good luck on your story!”

There may not have been a story for the paper, but this latest revelation would be the subject of a significantly long text to her best friend later, Caitlin was sure of it. Firefighters. That explained the long shifts...and the muscles. The very thought brought a blush to her cheeks, and instantly she chastised herself - she was not some blushing schoolgirl. But as Cullen paused in his discussion with another firefighter long enough to catch her eye, and for the faintest hint of a smile to rise on his face, she was sure that’s what she must have looked like.

Maker above.

‘You should just ask for his number, you know. Let’s have a movie night and discuss it.’

Josephine was always full of bold ideas.

Caitlin practically glared down at her phone, tossing it aside and instead focusing on gathering her laundry from the dryer and shepherding it into the basket. Oh yes, just waltz up to the door and beg the man she barely knew parted with his phone number because what? Because she’d seen him in a firefighter’s uniform and was another typical drooling idiot? That’s what he’d think, anyway. It had been nearly two weeks since the last time they had met. How on earth would one even open that conversation? Maker, she barely knew the man.

With the last of her socks carefully contained, Caitlin traipsed back up the stairs to her apartment, her friend’s text weighing on her mind. A movie night. So Josie could chastise her for being unable to hold a normal conversation, or appear anything other than some kind of creepy stalker? A delightful idea, she huffed as she took up residence on the sofa to sort her clothes.

While unpacking her laundry from the basket, however, Caitlin realised she had acquired stowaways; a large t-shirt emblazoned a figure dressed in uniform and ‘Red Watch: We Put Out’ underneath, and a boldly coloured pair of boxer shorts, patterned with the faces of cartoon dogs. She stared at them for a moment, confused, before a sinking feeling came over her. Well, they certainly weren’t hers - but she had a fairly good idea of their owner’s location, from the name written on the label at the back, and the sneaky suspicion had Josephine been here, this would be called ‘an opportunity’.

There was no choice but to face up to the situation, and as she crossed the corridor and knocked at the door, Caitlin wondered just what she was going to say. Hi there. I found your underwear with my underwear. Maker, no , she couldn’t say that. I didn’t steal them, I swear. That was even worse.

She had been expecting Rylen, and the swagger than seemed to announce his arrival, to open the door. He was certainly pleasant enough, if lovably cocky - the kind of character who could insult you in one breath, and have you doe-eyed the next. They’d met now and then, usually when Rylen appeared following a late night and was complaining loudly about having to climb the stairs thanks to their lazy ass-manager and his cheap-ass refusal to fix the elevator.

Instead, she was greeted with a bleary eyed Cullen; dressed in dark cotton sweatpants and a baggy t-shirt, still half asleep, golden curls unruly and wild with a smattering of blonde stubble. He seemed surprised to find her at the other side of the door, blinking in the morning sunlight, before straightening up, brushing errant curls from his face.

“Oh, uh...good morning.”

“Sorry, I didn’t mean to wake you.” He did look as though she had pulled him from his very bed, despite it being past ten o’clock.

“No, no, it’s alright…” He paused, glancing backwards into the apartment, before offering her an apologetic smile. “Sorry. Slow morning here. It was a late night.”

Caitlin peered over his shoulder to where Rylen snored, sprawled across the sofa with the remains of a kebab in a take-out box on the floor, and a headband made of glowsticks sat neatly upon the shock of dark tangles that was his bed-head. “Oh, I heard. Something about ‘Waka Waka Wednesdays and their buy-one-get-one-free shots?”

Cullen visibly cringed before sighing. “I’m sorry if he woke you, he tends to be a tad forgetful. We’ve had a rough week, the boys were out blowing off steam and it appears he had plenty to… well, it doesn’t matter. I’ll chew him out for you when he awakens. My apologies. I hope he didn’t keep you awake too long.”

“I can handle it.” Caitlin paused, glancing over him, before her lips raised in a grin. “You look like you had a good night too.”

Cullen folded his arms, leaning against the doorframe with a raised eyebrow. “Well, if you can call midnight paperwork and leftover chow mein a ‘good night’, I suppose I did.”

That stopped her smugness in its tracks, and her grin dropped. “You weren’t out with him?”

“No, I…” He offered her a near apologetic smile, a hand finding the back of his blonde curls in an awkward gesture. “I don’t really drink, and I was working, I had some stuff to catch up on… As a watch commander, I’ve got a lot of paperwork. I find it easier to work at night. It’s quieter, I guess.”

A watch commander. She couldn’t confess to being an expert on their national fire service, but from what she knew, he was young for the role, and the responsibilities that came with it. Maybe that explained the all too serious look his face usually wore. “I guess that explains the fancy hat the other day.”

That brought a laugh out of him. “Yes. A fancy hat and lots of paperwork.”

“Sounds delightful... I guess it also explains this t-shirt that I found mixed in my laundry. I was coming to ask if you had any clues as to its owner.” Caitlin gave an amused chuckle, holding up the large t-shirt, and the blonde immediately cringed once more, cheeks flooding with colour, shuffling in place.

“Maker’s breath, that... that’s Rylen’s. I’m sorry, I’ll give it to him...”

“Oh...are these his too?” The brightly coloured boxer shorts dangled from one dainty finger, grin spreading. “Only, they also have your name on them.”

The silence as he snatched the offending items was deafening, his cheeks burning scarlet. “...In my defence, the shirt is a momento from a station night out… and the boxers were a christmas present.” The mumbled reply was broken only by a shy grin, tugging at the corners of his mouth, a glimmer of the same boyish humour she’d seen before. It suited him. “Are you hiding any more of my clothing?”

“No fear, you’re free for now.” Caitlin faltered as their eyes met, before waving a hand towards her side of the hall. “You know, if you ever want company, I’m not much for going out either. I...well, just knock, yeah? I make a mean roast dinner, if you’re ever keen.”

Cullen was clearly unprepared for the offer, the colour on his cheeks burned on, but a very genuine smile rose on his face despite the laughter. “That’s... very kind of you to offer. I’ll keep that in mind. Thank you.”

“And I promise not to burn it.”

“I’ll remain thankful for that.” He paused, Caitlin turning to leave before Culle almost tripped over his next question, quickly drawing her attention back. “Did you get your story, the other day?”

“Not exactly…” Caitlin turned back to him, putting a hand on her hip. “The editor decided we should look into doing a joint safety campaign instead. Hadn’t you heard?” “Really? No, nothing.” His eyes lit up, voice instantly lifting; Caitlin hadn’t quite expecting that. “Well, that’s… something to look forward to. Will you be working on it?”

His rather keen enthusiasm was enough to give her butterflies; her mind wanted her to believe that he was simply the biggest nerd and was actually interested more in the project itself. “I should think so. Is that alright?”

“Of course, I would love to- I mean, that is…” His reply crashed to a halt, and the blush on his cheeks had returned, brighter than ever. He took a breath, swallowing, before offering her the same shy little grin. “At least I know you can do your job, right?”

“I should hope so.” Caitlin gave him a smile. “I guess I’ll see you around then.”

“That you will...and thank you again for...returning these.” They both laughed, Cullen shaking his head, and as the door closed, Caitlin once again could have screamed into the void. If you’re ever keen. For the love of the Maker, how desperate could she sound?

Interrupting her mental berating, a colossal groan of what she assumed was Rylen being awoken came from behind the door, the gruff voice floating into the corridor.

“Who was that at this time of the morning?”

“Caitlin. You woke her last night with your antics.” Cullen sounded far more annoyed with him than she had been expecting - maybe she hadn’t been quite as awkward as predicted.

“Caaaaaitlin.” The tease in Rylen’s voice was unmistakable. “Are you defending her? How cute. Maker, better get a hose on those cheeks of yours, Rutherford, before it spreads to a four alarm fire.”

“Shut up, you ass. All I said was your drunken self woke her up and that’s not on.”

“Hey, all I’m saying is that you clearly like her, she’s a pretty girl, and she was definitely eyeing you up the other day. You should speak to her more. Plus, everyone loves a man in uniform, you could offer to strip fo- hey, no throwing things at the hungover, take a little pity!”

The curse, followed by the laughter from inside, broke the spell and Caitlin wanted to laugh along - Cullen? Blushing over her? Surely it had just been the boxer shorts? Trust Rylen to notice a second glance. She wanted to protest it had hardly been eyeing up , more...appreciating. An appreciative glance towards him after he had given her some kind of hint for her story. Yes. That was it. Of course.

Realising she was, in fact, now eavesdropping , Caitlin crossed the corridor quickly, waiting until she was safely back inside her own apartment before pulling out her phone, opening Josephine’s earlier message and reading it back over. Damn that woman. She hesitated, before quickly typing a response.

‘Okay. 7pm, mine. Bring wine.’

[imjustthemechanic]

The Stone Knight

Part 1/? - Two Statues Part 2/? - A Curious Interview Part 3/? - John Doe Part 4/? - Escape Attempt Part 5/? - Making the News Part 6/? - Fallout Part 7/? - More Impossible Part 8/? - The Shield Thieves Part 9/? - Reality Sinks In Part 10/? - Preparing a Quest Part 11/? - The Marvelous History of Sir Stephen Part 12/? - Uninvited Guests Part 13/? - So That’s What It Does Part 14/? - The What and the Where Part 15/? - Gearing Up Part 16/? - Just Passing Through Part 17/? - Dinner with Druids Part 18/? - Kracness Henge Part 19/? - A Task Interrupted Part 20/? - The Red Death Part 21/? - Aphelion Part 22/? - The Stone Giants

Blood, death, and potential ecological catastrophe.

The shaking grew more violent, and Nat began to feel a little sick as she remembered the collapse of the hospital.  Was this going to be the same thing, on an infinitely greater scale?  Was the whole island going to fall apart underneath them?  That would be a disaster on multiple levels, because the other end of Flotta was the oil refinery.  If that fell into the sea it would spread crude for miles.

           The stone Pierce had landed on cracked vertically into multiple pieces, then horizontally into more.  A second stone began to break up as well, then a third – and then the pieces of each re-arranged themselves into humanoid figures, which ripped their legs out of the deep pits the stones had been buried in, and began walking towards the group.

           In a moment of disbelieving panic, Natasha shot at them.  The bullets pinged off the stone and the figures kept coming.

           “I thought you said magic can’t create life!” Sam shouted, dragging Sir Stephen to his feet.

           “These do not live!”  Sir Stephen stepped away from him, wobbly on his feet and walking as if in some pain, but able to support his own weight.  He raised his shield and picked up his sword.  “They are like your machines, doing only as directed to do.”

           The rest of the circle stones were crumbling. The Red Death had left them behind, Natasha realized, because he figured these golems or whatever they were would kill them all easily.  He was probably right.

           One of the HYDRA guys had been left behind, still lying where he’d fallen when Natasha had shot him in the leg.  He was yelling and waving, trying to get up so he could call for the helicopters to come back. The golems had no eyes or ears, so how he came to their notice it was impossible to say, but he did.  He tried to crawl away as they approached him, but he wasn’t nearly fast enough.  A golem picked him up by his injured leg, causing him to howl in pain, and slammed him into the ground again.  Sir Stephen could walk away from a blow like that, but no random skinhead could.  He bounced once, and lay still.

           “Run!” Nat decided.  “Get back to the boat!”

           “What about the refinery?” asked Sharon.  Her first thought, too, must have been for the ecosystem.

           “They’re on their own!” Nat said.  She threw her gun aside and grabbed her purse – it still had those two ivory pendants in it that she thought might be important – then rolled out of the way as a golem tried to step on her.  The others were already on their way through the hole in the fence, but Rushman paused to look back at her.

           “Natalie!” he shouted.  “Hurry!”

           “I’m coming,” she insisted, but then the golem’s enormous leg came down between her and the hole.  It took a swing at her with an over-long, gibbon-like arm, and she ducked under it, then grabbed it and climbed the moving stone to leap off it over the fence and hit the ground running on the other side.

           “Go!” she ordered the others.  “Go!”

           Flotta was not a large island.  It was only about half a kilometre from the henge on the headland to the old dock where the Sea Dog’s boat was, but that was a very long way indeed when there were giant animate slabs of stone chasing after them.  Most of the group was in good shape for running, but Rushman was both the oldest and a bit overweight.  He quickly fell behind, and Sir Stephen slowed down and darted in between Rushman and the golems, raising his shield to protect them both. Nat knew she should keep running, but she couldn’t help stopping to watch.  Surely, both of them were going to be crushed to a pulp.

           A golem brought down a handless arm, and to Nat’s amazement, rather than killing both men the stone actually cracked where it hit the shield.  For a moment she really couldn’t believe her eyes – what the hell was that shield made of, because it had to be something far more solid than mere leather and wood! A moment later, she came to her senses and realized it didn’t matter.  The only thing she needed to take from what she’d seen was that Sir Stephen could hold his own, and the rest of them had to get to the boat.

           When she reached the ruins, Nat made a right turn to head down to the dock, and nearly ran right into Sam, who’d come to a sudden halt right in front of her.  Sharon stopped, too, and all three of them took in the sight ahead of them.

           The Sea Dog’s boat had been set adrift.  It was now several hundred metres out and bobbing aimlessly.  The winds that had been cleared up by the Red Death’s spell were now rising again, carrying it further and further from shore and making the sea so rough that swimming was not an option.

           That left only one other place to go.

           “Refinery?” asked Sam.

           “Refinery!” Nat agreed.  Though whether that would do them any good, she really didn’t know. The only idea she could come up with was that it was just possible that, for whatever reason, the people there might have some dynamite.  Explosives seemed like the only thing that might be able to destroy a magically-animated rock.

           They scurried back up the slope.  Sir Stephen, carrying Rushman on his back again, saw them coming.  “What is it?” he asked.

           “Boat’s gone!  We’re going to the refinery!” said Nat.  It seemed like a stupider idea the more times she said it.

           “You cannot mean to lead the beasts to more men and women!” Sir Stephen protested.

           “Do you have a better idea?” Sam demanded.

           It was at least another kilometer to the refinery and the golems had long legs.  Natasha could run a marathon, but not at the speed needed to keep ahead of these things.  The others were tiring, too – but the golems weren’t made of muscle and bone.  There was no way they’d keep ahead much longer.

           Then in the gathering dark, a trail of wind-borne dust appeared leaving the refinery and approaching them.  The source proved to be a jeep, with two people in it – probably employees, coming out to investigate what all the gunfire and helicopters had been about.  As it drew nearer, the man sitting on the passenger’s side opened his door and leaned out, staring at the stone giants striding across the landscape in obvious disbelief.

           “Hey!”  Sam began waving his arms.  “Hey! Help us!”

           The driver, who like her passenger was dressed in a navy jumpsuit with the Roxxon logo embroidered on the pocket, pulled to a stop a dozen metres ahead of them.  Nat ran and climbed in the back, not even bothering to greet their rescuers. Sam and Sharon were right behind her, neither even bothering to enter the vehicle but simply climbing up and clinging to the outside of it.  The ground was shaking with every tremendous step the golems took.  Where were Sir Stephen and Rushman?

           They had fallen further behind than Nat had thought, and the golems had caught up with them.  Rushman was on the ground now, hiding behind Sir Stephen, who was trying to deflect blows from two different golems.  A third was thumping up to join them.  Sir Stephen might have the strength of ten and some kind of accelerated magical healing, but there was no way he’d be able to keep this up for long.

           “Go get them!” Nat ordered the driver.

           “Are you insane?” the passenger asked her.  “They’re toast!”

           “Go get them!” Nat repeated, reaching forward to shake the woman’s shoulder.

           “I’m getting them!  I’m getting them!”  The driver put the jeep in gear, and roared up the slope.  A golem stepped into their way, and when the driver didn’t react fast enough, Nat reached over her shoulder to grab the wheel and swerve out of the way.  The passenger hollered and hid his face in his hands.

           “Rushman!”  Sir Steve!” Nat shouted as they approached.

           Rushman reached out to her.  Nat opened the back door and grabbed his arm as they went by, pulling him into the vehicle with her.  Sir Stephen continued to focus on fighting the golems, but he did look back to see if Rushman were okay, and at just that moment, a golem swung one arm and knocked him off his feet.  He was sent tumbling across the ground, right into the path of the jeep.  The driver screamed and tried to turn, but there was a double thump as she ran over him.

           “Oh, my god!” the woman exclaimed.  “Oh, my god, I hit him!  I hit him!  I’m so sorry!”  She hit the brake, and the jeep skidded to a stop.

           “Leave him!” the passenger said.  “Leave him, he’s dead!”

           “No, he’s not!” said Nat and Sam at the same time. They climbed out and ran back for Sir Stephen – he was lying still on the ground with his legs crushed, the right one twisted so badly that the foot was facing in the wrong direction.  They grabbed his arms and dragged him back to the jeep.  On the way his eyes flickered open and looked at them a moment before closing again.  Nat wondered how he could possibly be conscious and not be screaming in pain.

           The driver got out of the jeep and came stumbling to help them.  “We have a hospital!  We have a hospital!  We have doctors!” she said over and over.

           “Good.  Get him in.” Nat handed Sir Stephen’s left arm over to the woman, and ran to get in the driver’s seat.  A hospital probably wouldn’t do them much good.  Sir Stephen didn’t need one, and there was nothing to stop the golems from following them there.

           “What the hell is going on?” the passenger whimpered, as they propped Sir Stephen in the back seat.

           “Archaeology,” said Nat, and hit the gas.

           The golems were large and long-legged, but they moved slowly, each step groaning with the effort of swinging tonnes of stone. The jeep outran them easily, and bumped across the rough landscape back to the road, which made for smoother going as they headed towards the giant tanks and smokestacks of the refinery.

           Workers were out and about, some of them doing a few tasks in the last bit of waning daylight, but a lot of them just gathered on the ring road that surrounded the facility, squinting into the east as they tried to figure out what was going on in that direction.  They moved aside to let the jeep through.

           “There’s the infirmary!” the woman who’d been driving pointed.  “Right there!  I’ll get somebody!”  She didn’t even wait until Nat had come to a full stop – she opened the door and hopped out to run inside.

           The passenger was panting as if he thought they were safe now, which made Natasha wonder where he’d gotten that idea.  He sat up and pulled his sleeve down over his hand to wipe his forehead.

           “What do you mean, archaeology?” he asked Nat.

           “Oh, you know,” said Nat.  “Ancient curses, saving the world, shooting Nazis… archaeology!” She opened the door and went to look in the back and check on Sir Stephen.

           He didn’t look good.  He was lying on his back, his head in Rushman’s lap with the older man holding his hand.  The biking trousers he’d been wearing were soaked right through with blood, and his face was a grimace of pain – as was Rushman’s own.

           “I couldn’t go any further,” Rushman said, voice and eyes both pleading.  “I had to catch my breath.  I should have started jogging or something, years ago… I just couldn’t run anymore and he said he would carry me, but those things caught up…”

           “He’s fine,” Natasha said.

           “He’s not fine!  Look at him!” Rushman protested.  “At my first job ever, back when I was nineteen, I saw a guy get run over by a logging truck.  His legs looked like that… and he died of shock an hour later!”

           “He’s fine,” Nat repeated.  “Trust me, it’s magic.”  She hated saying that.  “He’s recovered from worse.”

           “She speaks truth, I have,” said Sir Stephen, his voice thin with pain.  “By this time tomorrow I will be fighting fit again.  The Lady of the Lake was choosy with her gifts, but not un-generous.”

           The driver returned, bringing along two medics who gingerly loaded Sir Stephen onto a stretcher.  Sam went with them as they wheeled him inside, trying as he went to explain that the patient had miraculous healing abilities and would not need surgery. That left Natasha, Sharon, and Rushman outside with the still-distressed passenger, who was hugging himself, running his hands up and down his upper arms.

           “I think I’m in shock,” he was saying.  “I think I need one of those blankets.”

           “Never mind that, we can’t stay here,” said Nat. The golems had attacked the injured HYDRA guy, that meant they didn’t distinguish between friend and foe.  “Who’s in charge?  Because we need to get everybody off this island as quickly as possible.” Rock golems couldn’t possibly swim, but could they walk across the bottom of the sea?  How deep was the Pentland Firth?

           Somewhere on the outer edges of the refinery complex, an alarm began to clang.

[pftones3482]

Platonic VLD Month: Day 1

Today’s prompt: Garrison Days. Cross-posted to my AO3

He/him for Pidge in the beginning, she/her for most of the fic. Under a read-more for length. 

Day Two 

“Okay no, I’m serious this time, you’re getting off of your stupid computer and coming with me and Hunk,” Lance ordered, snapping the top of Pidge’s laptop down and crossing his arms over his chest. An easy smirk rested on his face, confident that the cadet wouldn’t disobey him, but Pidge just scowled and flicked his screen back up.

“I don’t have time, Lance,” he snapped, his fingers tippity-tapping across the keyboard. “I have to write this stupid paper for Emmet before he fails me for talking.”

“Well maybe if you didn’t sass him in class-”

“He’s an asshole, he deserves it! Now could you leave?”

Lance all but wilted, his hands falling to stuff into his pockets and his toes scuffing the ground. “Okay. Sorry about that. Um…good luck on your paper, then.”

Pidge shot him a glance as he turned to the door and hesitated, fingers pausing in midair and eyes scanning Lance’s back. He was slumped, dejected, and Pidge gnawed on his lip for a long moment before speaking. “What’s the outing this weekend?”

Lance spun around, face brightening, and he shuffled from foot to foot. “Ice skating and pizza! C’mon, man, when was the last time you had pizza?”

A small smile quivered at the edge of Pidge’s lips. “I can’t skate,” he admitted, foot jiggling against his leg at a blinding pace.

Lance chuckled and leaned over, pushing down Pidge’s laptop once again and moving it from his lap. He proceeded to grab Pidge by the wrists, ignoring his yelps of protest, and tugged him off the bed. “Me neither,” he laughed, bending to chuck Pidge’s shoes at him. “Doesn’t mean we won’t have fun though. Plus, Hunk is a beast on ice skates. That man is like a figure skater I swear to God. He can lift me any-”

“Okay, okay,” Pidge managed, giggling softly as he hopped around the room to put his shoes on. “I get it. Hunk is the most graceful human on skates ever. I would actually love to see that.”

Lance whooped, grabbed Pidge up by the waist and hoisted him over his shoulder, and, stopping only long enough to grab the younger one’s keys and jacket, sprinted out of the room with a laughing, protesting Pidge dangling over his back. He ignored the stares from the other students, taking the corners a little slower to avoid killing Pidge on the walls, and practically threw him into Hunk’s car, climbing in the back after him. “Floor it before this dick decides to escape!” Lance ordered.

Hunk lifted a solitary eyebrow. “Seatbelts?”

Groans filled the car and Lance clicked Pidge’s seatbelt into place before he could protest, clambering into the front seat in an awkward tangle of limbs and several smacked body parts, buckling his belt the moment he was somewhat right side up and pointing triumphantly at the street. “Onwards!”

Pidge shot Hunk a sympathetic grin in the rearview mirror and Hunk just chuckled, putting the car in reverse and pulling from his spot. Lance pulled up directions to the rink on his phone and then promptly cranked the radio up on the Spanish station, singing along to a tangle of lyrics that, had Pidge not taken seven years of Spanish and actually learned something, would have been incomprehensible.

She leaned back against her seat and smiled to herself, crossing her arms over her chest and gazing out the window at the train tracks they were speeding by. Well, speeding was a strong word; Hunk was a careful driver, never went more than a mile or two above the speed limit. Still, it was faster than she had gone in a non-simulated vehicle in a long time.

She fingered her civilian clothing, glancing up and watching with amusement as Lance tried to walk Hunk through the chorus of Bailando, failing miserably, and then glanced down at her shoes.

Hunk and Lance were great people. Some of the best at the school she had met, to be perfectly honest. She had known them for almost four months now, and the thought had started crossing her mind to let them in on her little secret. Aside from Lance’s flirting and Hunk’s perpetual fear of getting caught breaking the rules, she liked everything about them. They were trustworthy; Lance had taken the hit for her more than once when she flubbed up in front of Iverson, Hunk never questioned her cranky days, just left her Tylenol or a cookie outside of her single.

She appreciated them beyond belief, and would have no hesitations of telling them, if only she knew that they could one hundred percent keep it from everyone else. That was her only qualm. Hunk sucked at keeping secrets, and Lance…well, Lance probably wouldn’t tell at all, but she couldn’t tell one and not the other. That wasn’t fair to her team.

“Yooooo, earth to Pidge! Come iiiinnnnn, Pidgeot!”

She swatted at Lance as he poked her shoulder, his smile bright but his eyes clouded with just a bit of concern. That was another thing; he treated her like a sibling, always seemed to know when she felt off, even if she didn’t outright look upset. “You went to like, Mars there for a while. Thinking about how much I’m going to kick your ass at skating?”

Pidge scoffed, rolling her eyes. “The only ass you’ll be kicking is your own, when you fall repeatedly. You said yourself that you sucked.”

Lance gasped in mock horror, putting a hand to his chest and staring at Hunk, aghast. “Hunk. Can you believe he would accuse me like this?”

A smirk flickered at the edge of Hunk’s lips. “I actually totally can. You suck at skating, buddy.”

“That’s it. Let me out. I’m going. I am tucking and rolling out of this car onto the highway.”

Hunk calmly locked the doors and kept driving, his thumb remaining on the door locks as Lance fruitlessly attempted to unlock his side. “Huuuunnnnkkkk,” he whined. “Let me perish!”

“Not today.”

Pidge chuckled, turning them out as Lance started pleading with Hunk to let him tuck out of the car like in an action movie. She turned back to the window, watching as the desert turned into trees and city skylines, and she ran her stubby nails over the grooves in her seatbelt thoughtfully.

She had only been skating one time, with Matt and her father for Matt’s birthday. She bit her lip and swallowed, fingers tightening on the belt and gaze firmly remaining on the growing number of trees. Matt was a great skater, had played hockey growing up and retained the skills. Her dad wasn’t half bad either. Her mother, because of a bum knee, couldn’t skate with them, but had sat on the sidelines with hot cocoa in thermoses and bandages, laughing each time Pidge fell on her butt and had to be helped up.

The day had ended when she had landed hard enough to set free a loose tooth that had been wobbling in her mouth for a week and had scarred a couple of children. Apparently they weren’t fans of bloody ice.

Pidge smiled to herself and leaned against the window, tuning back in as Lance whooped and turned up whatever song was now on the radio, something much faster than the last one that she genuinely couldn’t understand without the lyrics in front of her.

At some point she must have dozed off, because when she came to, Lance was leaning over the seats again and had a hand on her shoulder, smile soft and eyes gentle, an eyebrow cocked. “Sleepy?” he chuckled.

Pidge hummed and shook him off, stretching and unbuckling her belt. “We here?” she mumbled, voice breaking with sleep.

Lance nodded, tilting his head to the large brown building next to him. “Yeah. Hunk’s grabbing his skates from the trunk. We gotta check in inside.”

He hesitated, eyes scanning her thoughtfully, and his lips pursed. “You good to go?”

She knew what he was really asking, and nodded, shoving open the door. “Totally. Let’s go.”

Lance’s eyes brightened and he bounced out of the car while Pidge walked around to the trunk, taking her gloves from where she had tossed them on their last group outing. Hunk had his skates slung over one shoulder and a jacket dangled from his arm. He twirled the keys patiently, hitting the fob as Pidge shut the trunk, and then nudged her as they walked inside. “Wish I could have fallen asleep,” he snorted. “Lance’s singing is awful.”

Lance shrieked ahead of them in protest and Pidge and Hunk doubled in laughter, catching up to the offended looking teenager and shoving him playfully. They entered the rink a giggling trio, checked in with the professors in charge of the outing, and Hunk tied his skates while Pidge and Lance grabbed rentals from the counter.

“I’m gonna fucking die,” Lance muttered as he tightened the straps. “Holy shit, I’m going to fucking die.”

Pidge snickered and glanced at Hunk as he tightened her straps for her, seeing as she hadn’t worn skates since she was seven years old. “He good over there?”

A crooked grin slid across Hunk’s face. “He broke his nose last time we came here. In front of a pretty girl.”

“She was totally interested!” Lance snapped.

“She has a girlfriend now, Lance.”

Lance stuck his tongue out at Hunk, cheeks a little pink, though from cold or embarrassment, Pidge wasn’t sure. “Um, yeah, but she’s bi, Hunk! So she was totally interested!”

“Yeah, until you ruined your face.”

“I will personally hide your tinkering toys, Hunk.”

“You wouldn’t.”

“Try me.”

Pidge snorted and pushed herself to her feet, wobbling for a moment before gaining steady ground on the matted floor. “Well while you two have your intense staring contest, I’ll be on the ice falling like a newb.”

She set off cheerfully, ankles trembling at the awkward movement of walking in skates, and pretty soon Lance and Hunk, both a solid foot and a half taller than her, were striding past, grabbing her by the elbows and hoisting her into the air and onto the ice. She shrieked, ears burning at how girlish it had sounded, and slid without any kind of direction into the vague center of the rink. “Hunk!” she yelped. “Lance, you ass!”

Hunk laughed, swinging gracefully around her, and drew her back into a normal standing position by her hands. “See, you’re totally fine. Chill.”

“Hunk, was that a pun?” Lance gasped, gliding by. While clearly less steady than Hunk, he wasn’t nearly as bad as he had claimed, able to make a turn and stop with only a slight wobble. “I am so proud of you, my friend.”

Hunk smacked his shoulder with a fingerless-gloved hand, a twinkle in his eyes. “Not a chance, Sanchez. Fight me.”

“You know I would,” Lance said with a click of his tongue. “But Pidgeotto here needs training.”

“From you?” Pidge asked, her knees quivering a little and fingers tightening against Hunk’s. “No way. You’d let me drop in a heartbeat.”

“I am offended, I am revolted, I dedicate my whole li-”

Hunk shoved him and sent Lance spiraling away with a laugh, leaving him to flail about and struggle not to hit skating students. Lance flipped him off, swiveled around a couple a little too fast, and wound up on his back with both middle fingers in the air. Hunk and Pidge chuckled and turned to each other, Hunk skating backwards with annoying ease while pulling Pidge along. “It’s like…walking…but not.”

“Gee, thanks Hunk.”

Hunk huffed. “Okay, like….walk, but like you’re doing the moonwalk really wide? I don’t know, man, Lance doesn’t give a shit about formal lessons, he just goes for it and falls a lot!”

Lance skated by, snatching Hunk’s hat from his head with a triumphant, “You bet Mama Jenna’s oatmeal cookies I do!”

Hunk wrinkled his nose and took a hand from Pidge to flatten his hat hair before shaking his head. “That’s the last time he gets Mama’s cookies,” he grumbled, grabbing back onto Pidge.

Pidge chuckled and shifted her feet experimentally, getting a feel for the ice under her. “You could go after him, you know. If I fall, I fall.”

Hunk shot her a wary look but, at Pidge’s insistence, he shot off like a Garrison rocket, chasing Lance with a holler. The other skaters knew better than to get in his way, scattering as he dove through them. Pidge snickered and spread her arms out for balance, making her way tentatively to the wall a good ten feet away. She clung to it with all she had and twisted on the ice, watching her friends duck and weave.

Hunk was a graceful as Lance had said, never faltering, moving around people without hesitation if they were too slow or too new at skating to catch his friend. Lance, on the other hand, made up for his grace in pure speed and cunning, using the people to his advantage, not using sharp turns or fancy maneuvers that would get him caught. It was the complete opposite from their training simulations and for a moment, Pidge was floored.

These dorks.

She shook her head, recognizing that she was now a part of their weird and tiny family, and something pleasant spread in her chest at the thought of it. Watching as Hunk finally grabbed Lance by the back of his jacket and snatched the hat from his head, Pidge felt a kind of peace settle around her.

As unsteady as she felt, both on the skates and at the Garrison, as much as she hated hiding herself from them and wanted to tell them who she really was, why she was really there, she was content. Something about gaining two brothers while searching for her original was heartwarming.

Not that she’d ever tell them that, of course. Besides, odds were that after the end of this year, she’d never see them again.

Something about that didn’t sit well in her stomach, so she pushed off the wall and stumbled over to where Hunk was now sitting on Lance and refusing to let him up. “Hey idiots,” she chided, fumbling and catching herself on Hunk’s shoulder before she could totally fall. “Do you mind not being so gay in the middle of the ice rink where everyone is trying to skate?”

“Hunk started it!”

“You STOLE my HAT!”

“I hate both of you.” Lance shot her a grin, hair now sopping wet and clinging to the ice under him, and tossed out a middle finger. “Nah, you totally love us, man. Admit it.”

Pidge gave him a wry smile and a finger of her own. “Not a chance.”

[muinaru-novel-blog]

Chapter Thirteen - The Baker’s Occupant

Erik walked beside Tocks, which waddled along on its two weasel hind-legs as they moved through halls. The walls of the halls were magnificently decorated; they were painted with a grand scene of birds and insects flustering through thickets, brambles, and lush trees. The ceiling two was finished with a master fresco of deep-grey clouds lined with trims of gold and silver, as if they were struck by the light of a setting sun.

Eventually, Tocks brought Erik to the exit, which was sealed by two very large wooden doors. Stood in front of the doors were two beings, with a Groke-esque appearance, guarding the exit. The beings held a rifle each and stood straight, with their head held high. As Tocks approached them, they immediately opened the doors, allowing in a stream of light to illuminate the entrance hall.

Now out in the bright sunlight, they continued down a pathway, passing under a sandy-coloured stone archway, which was etched with carvings of again birds and insects living amongst thick foliage.

Erik asked, as they proceeded onto a cobblestone courtyard, “What is with all the birds and flowers. They’re everywhere.”

Tocks explained very quickly, “The Causorian ancestors believed birds and insects are very important to the health of the forests. They continue on the designs out of tradition.”

They moved towards a vehicle waiting just outside of the courtyard’s gates. The driver by the car looked, like the guards at the door, Groke-esque, only a stouter and not as muscular as Groke or the guards.

The driver opened the door and quickly Tocks jumped inside, shuffling to the far side of the car. It waved Erik inside and called in hast, “Come on, come on. Don’t you want to go home?”

Erik nodded. He climbed inside and apprehensively fastened the seatbelt. As soon as Erik’s seatbelt clicked, the driver slammed the door shut and marched to the front of the car. The vehicle wobbled as the driver jumped inside, shake Eric from side to side. The driver started the engine and a gentle jitter shivered through the seats.

Once the car set off, Tocks turned to Erik and explained, “Erik, Tocks needs you to keep a secret.” It clasped Erik’s forearm and asked, “Tocks needs you to omit our previous meeting in the forest from your memory; inform no one about it.”

Erik nodded but his brow skewed with confusion.

Tocks shook its head and observed, “Tocks can see you are confused and possibly mistrustful.” It looked intensely at Erik’s eyes and continued, “As you can see, Tocks does not look like a typical machine. Tocks was designed to spy on enemies. Who would suspect a weasel, would you?”

Erik nodded, “I guess not.”

Tocks continued, “Anyway, Tocks has been collecting information on the shades; sensitive information, of which you are not permitted to hear and neither are many other beings.”

Erik shrugged, “Okay.”

“But Tocks wants you to know that Tocks is very gratefully for your help on that day and Tocks is also happy you have brought Kingdom’s book back, however, Tocks thinks it is best you return home.” Tocks abruptly stopped and turned away from Erik, focusing out of the window.

Erik began to feel warm and started fidgeting awkwardly with the window winder. Tocks looked at Erik with confusion. Erik noticed Tocks bemusement and remarked, “Warm isn’t it.”

Tocks nodded, “The temperature in this car is optimal for earthlings, I suspect you are anxious,” and again Tocks abruptly turned away, focusing out of the window.

Finally, the vehicle stopped sharply in front of a wide harbour. Erik gazed down the jetty of which the car had stop in front or. He followed the planks of tightly knitted wood of the jetty, which ran far out over the lake. Erik’s gazed stopped as they struck an imposing ship, which shadowed over the jetty. It was very same ship that had rescued Erik from the prison, however the balloon was at this moment deflated and crew were energetically packing it away.

Tocks snipped, “Out you get and follow Tocks.” As they walked towards the ship, Tocks explained, “The being Tocks is looking for is Herax. He’s the one who saved you, if you do not know. Tocks is sure he will be quick to return you home.” As Erik followed, his gaze was repeatedly drawn out to the swelling of grey clouds that brewed on the horizon behind the dam.

The wind was strong, dragging tall ripples across the lake and sweeping a stiff breeze over the jetty, pushing Tocks and Erik closer to the edge. Tocks stressed, “Be careful not to fall in the water. Keep low, it will reduce the impact of the wind.”

Eventually, Erik and Tocks entered the shadow of the ship, which sheltered them from the heavy cross winds. Tocks looked up to the deck of ship towards Tyru, who stood at the stern, directing the crew. It whistled loudly and drew Tyru’s attention. Tyru smiled and shook his head with disdain. Tocks shouted, “WHERE’S HERAX?”

Tyru pointed across the ship and shouted to Herax, “HERAX, THE LITTLE RAT THING WANTS YOU?”

Herax stepped a foot onto the banister of his ship and grinned down at Tocks. He waved over Tocks’ attention and called, “WHAT CAN I DO YOU FOR, TINKERTOY?”

Tocks respectfully requested, “I WAS HOPING, IF IT WOULDN’T BE TOO MUCH TROUBLE, THAT YOU WOULD RETURN ERIK ─ THIS DEAR BOY,” Tocks pointed to Erik, “TO KINGOM’S MANOR, SO HE CAN RETURN TO HIS WORLD?”

Herax frowned. He walked to the rope ladder, quickly descended, and strode up to Tocks. He looked down upon the weasel with repugnance, holding the handle of his blade, which was attached to his waist, and, with a tone of irritation, he refused, “I will not take him.”

Tocks stiffened its shoulders, pointed at Herax and snapped, “Look here─”

Herax quickly interrupted, “A typhoon is coming in from the North-West, no ship will be sailing until tomorrow.”

Tocks dropped its paw and uttered solemnly, “Oh.”

Herax smirked and quickly corrected his gaze over to Erik. He enquired, “Why are you returning the boy, I think he should first be looked over by Lirish.” He walked over to Erik and knelt to the boy’s eye level and explained, “It’s very interesting that the mindless shades should have kept you alive.” He turned and looked at Tocks and added, “Almost as if they’re not entirely mindless.”

Tocks shook its head and snipped, “The boy is not an experiment neither a prisoner here. He has the right to go home.”

Herax chuckled, “Home can wait. What’s there to go home for anyway?” He shook the boys shoulder and groaned, “Nothing, am I right, just school and bossy parents.”

“Actually,” Erik murmured, “I should good back to see my mum.”

“Your mum?” Herax scoffed, “Don’t you see her every day?”

Erik elaborated, “She’s … very unwell. She has cancer.”

Herax face dropped and he turned at looked at Tocks, which simple shrugged. Herax reverted his gaze to the boy and apologised, “Oh … sorry … if I had known, I’d …” Herax swallowed and continued, “Well … I wish it changed matters, but I still can’t take you to Kingdom’s manor. The ship is already being packed away, ready for the typhoon.”

Tocks walked between Herax and Erik. It looked at Herax and stated, “In that case, I’m going to take the boy to a temporary containment room, where he will be kept safe and out of sight until the storm passes.”

Herax objected, “Nonsense.” He gripped Erik’s shoulder, “Erik, would you like to be kept in isolation?”

Erik shrugged, “It doesn’t sound great.”

Herax chuckled, “Doesn’t sound great, haha, of course it doesn’t. I tell you what, I’ll take you to Lirish anyway. Don’t worry, she’s not some mad scientist, she’ll just ask you some questions. After that, you can play with the many cool gadgets there. Also, I know a young girl about your age who might want to meet your acquaintance.”

Erik wondered, “Zelesa?”

Herax smiled confusedly, “You know her?”

“I was just talking to her, before Tocks had her taken away.”

Herax looked at Tocks and frowned, “Well … that isn’t very accommodating, is it Tocks?”

Tocks scowled, “Sorry, but I must object. The girl is a menace. I do not approve of this. The boy’s presence should not be advertised around town. I cannot allow this.”

Herax shrugged, “I’m sure you don’t want to allow it.” He picked up Tocks by the fur at the back of its neck and lifted it up off the ground. Herax smiled and asked, “But what is it that you can do about it?”

Tocks warned, “I will have the guards arrest you.”

“For what? The boy is going willingly with me and he is a free being, isn’t he?”

Tocks folded its arms and, as it dangled in Herax’s hand, it huffed, “Fine, but as soon as the typhoon has passed he must report back to the harbour, so he can be returned home where he belongs.”

Herax nodded with a cheeky smile, “Of course.” And gently placed Tocks down onto the ground. Tocks waddled of quickly down to the end of the jetty, leaving Erik behind with Herax.

Herax grabbed the Erik’s shoulder, knelt down and asked with grin, “How are you doing? Feeling stronger?” Erik observed the face he had seen from the prison, only now it was cleaner and much kinder in the light of the evening sun. He nodded in response to the question and Herax further asked, “Have you eaten since you’ve been up?”

Erik shook his head and explained, “Only a piece of fruit.”

With a chuckle, Herax lifted the boy’s arm and remarked, “Look at those scrawny arms, you need some meat.” He looked up at the ship and called to Tyru, “TYRU, I’M TAKING THE BOY TO SEE LIRISH. YOU FINISH UP.” Tyru nodded and wave his hand with concurrence.

As they walked down the jetty, Herax griped, “Something about that weasel makes me uneasy.” He looked down at Erick and smiled, “I guess it’s something that you should be troubled with.” He patted Ericks back and announced, “Let’s get you something to eat.”

At the end of the jetty they stopped at an open carriage attached to two horses. It was safeguarded by one of Herax’s younger crew, who had a black bandaged wrapped tightly around his hand and two of his fingers. He was doze in the back, wrapped up in a blanket.

Herax shook his head and grinned, “That would be Duelf asleep.” He didn’t bother to wake the crew member up and simply jumped up on to the carriage, grabbing the reins. Erik followed, sitting next to Herax, and immediately Herax stuck the reins, calling, “Hi-yah.”

The horses jolted into gear and cart jittered along the bumpy dirt road, towards town situated just over the hill. Despite the rough journey, Duelf remained asleep. Herax smirked, “That’s our chef. He’s useless at everything else, but he sure can cook.”

As they reached closer to the town, Herax explained with a wide grin, “Lirish is your typical genius,” and elaborated after a momentary pause, “she’s odd.” He looked at Erik and further added, “But she’s very sweet,” which he reiterated within a murmur, “very sweet.”

 The dirt road within the town was bordered by wooden walkways on either side, of which the buildings loomed over. The structures were mostly made of wood, but the few larger buildings were made from bricks and mortar.

“Whoa!” Herax called and the horses slowed to a halt outside of a bakery. The place was called, Jones’ Bakery, as indicated by the well-craft calligraphy held within a wood sign, which swung just above the door.

The bakery was only small and occupied a slender space between two much larger buildings that stretch four storeys high. The upper floor appeared to be used as accommodation, evident by the resident’s linen and garments drying over the balcony.

The horses drank from the trough outside as Herax tied the reins a wooden beam. He explained, just as they ascended the small steps to the front entrance of the bakery, “This place has great pies. They’re made here fresh.”

Herax pushed open the shop door, pinging a small bell, which pinged once more as the door closed. The high-pitched sound summoned the presence of a stout man, wearing an apron covered in flour. He looked old, much older than Herax, but he moved very fluidly. He stepped up to his counter with a warm smile, cleaning his hands with a towel.

Herax introduced the man as he walked to the counter, “This is Terrance, an old family friend. Terrance, this is Erik, the boy I told you about.”

Terrance pinched the speckles up from his chest, which were suspended by a delicate chain, and examined the boy. He scoffed and assessed, “He needs a good meal, how old is he?”

Erik answered quickly, “Fourteen and three months.”

Herax muttered, “Really, thought you were younger. No matter.” He grabbed the boy’s shoulder, moved him up to the pies, and assisted, “Choose one of the pies, they’re very good.”

The pies behind the glass were sized to be a hearty meal for one. They were priced with high numbers with a currency symbol alien to Erik. The cheapest pie was 100 whatever’s and the most expensive was 400 thing-a-me-dos. Erik assessed the descriptions: Tiorup filled pie with tupis; Yumil & Tuilo; Til & Tul; Tuilo mixed with Moko & Lop. The list went on in this incomprehensible manner.

Erik softly admitted, “I have no idea what they are.”

Herax chuckled, “Right, of course. Well … urm …” He looked at Erik and assessed, “give the boy a Crium & Yilo, earthling’s will probably like that. The meat tastes like earthling pork.”

Terrence affirmed the order and proceeded to package a pie. He delicately placed the pie into a wrap, which had an opening at the top, designed to push the pie up through for eating on the go.

Herax passed Terrence the payment and, as he did so, he asked, “Is Lirish upstairs.”

Terrence grinned and quipped, “I don’t know if she’s seen day light all week.” He clarified, “Yes upstairs alright, doing her god knows what experiments.”

Herax smiled and expressed, “Good, I’m bringing this boy to her, see if she can explain why the shades would keep the boy.” He thanked the baker and stepped back out of the door, guiding Erik out with him.

The pair made their way around the back of the building, passing through a door, which lead to a set of narrow steps, which lead up to a solid door. Herax knocked heavily on the door with a whimsical tune and a woman inside called, “Who is it?”

Herax replied, “Hey Lirish, it’s Herax, I’ve brought that boy with me. I thought you might want to meet him.”

There was no reply from Lirish and pair stood in silence, but Herax didn’t seem bothered, he waited patiently. Suddenly, there was a series of clangs and clunks of locks being released, and finally, the door swung upon.

There stood Lirish; a short, curvy woman. She appeared to be from the same beings of which Herax belonged to, based upon the distinguishing larger ears and nose. Her hair was braided neatly around her ears and a bandanna was warped around the top of her head, where pair of speckles sat. One ear was pierced several times with small rings and on her neck, and tattooed on her neck was a swirly abstract pattern.

Lirish requested, “Well, come on in then.”

Inside, it was a mess of machinery clutter. The place was filled with old machines parts and broken machinery. Some of it was stored on shelves, others hung from the ceiling, but a great deal was just stack around the room.

Some of the machines were as big as Groke, others smaller than Tocks. A few were covered in fur, like tocks, however the fur was often torn, exposing the mechanical chassis underneath, also, they generally missing a great portion of their limbs and often a head. Most of the clutter was just indistinguishable piles of metal.

Lirish waved, “Come, come.”

The pair followed her into a room filled with glass vials. The vials were filled with peculiar liquids, many of which radiated with a vibrant colour. A few contained a solid shard of metal or a mysterious organic matter. Most gruesomely was a store of jars, each containing an animal limb or an indistinguishable blob of organic cells, possibly an organ.

In the centre of the room were three cups sat around the kettle, which was just beginning to boil. Close by was a sizable tin box, which was decorated with the imprinted imagery of an array of assorted biscuits, which, hopefully, the real thing was stored within.

Lirish dropped some tea leaves into an infuser, which was shaped like a little bucket, and she sat it snuggly into a little teapot. She enquired kindly, “Do you both want tea.”

Herax clapped his hands and announced, “That sounds nice,” and quickly, he took a seat by the table. Erik followed suit. He placed his pie on the table and moved his seat up close.

The kettle boiled shortly after they sat down and Lirish proceeded to fill the pot, pouring the water through the tea leaves. Whilst the tea brewed, Herax asked, “So, what did you learn from the book.”

Disconcertedly, Lirish frowned. She shook her head and replied, “The book is gibberish; just rows of nonsensical mesh of squiggles.” She retrieved the book from a nearby work bench, which was stacked with papers. She placed the book on the table and explained, “I’ve had the librarian look at it and she’s never see such a language.”

Erik interrupted, “You’ve never seen English? But you’re speaking it.”

Lirish scoffed, “Of course I’ve seen English. I know we speak it. Ever since the arrival of Mr Kingdom, English has been the standard cross-cultural language. But his book is not in English.”

Erik crossed his brow, “But it is.”

Lirish sighed, “If it was, would I have said it was gibberish?”

Herax picked up the book and flicked the pages. He grunted and smiled, “I’m not the best reader but that’s not English.” He showed the book to Erik, who looked at the pair with confusion. He raised hand and opened his mouth but said nothing and slowly lowered his hand.

“Well, what? Clearly you noticed something.” Lirish impatiently asked.

Erik explained with his lip curled up, “It’s English.”

Lirish snatched the book and examined it closely. Her eyes narrowed. She gazed at the Erik, who sat timidly in his chair, with his arms held close to his body. Lirish suddenly smiled and walked around the table. She held the book in front of Erik and asked, “What does this line say?”

Erik read slowly, “The crystallisation is often unstable but a compound of sodium-flouriphil mixed with acids of a Trelip fruit, will keep the crystallisation from liquidising.”

Lirish visibly jumped for joy and cried, “Amazing, absolutely amazing. I cannot believe it. I believe Mr Kingdom has made a book that can only be read by eyes of an earthling.” She looked at Herax and announced, “I believe we have quite possibly found the reason the boy was kept alive.”

However, Herax quickly reminded Lirish, “The shades are mindless, they can’t read the book, let alone have the intelligence to know they need an earthling to read it. Someone has to be controlling them.”

Lirish shrugged and quickly snapped her attention to the book, asking Erik, “Please, transcript the book for me, word for word. I wish to read it all.”

Herax informed, “The boy is only here for the one night.”

“But … but,” Lirish manically stuttered, “it’ll take me weeks, if not months, maybe even years to simulate a looking glass capable of mimicking the qualities of human eye. I honestly have never done such a thing, as such, I have no idea if it’s even possible.”

Eric sighed and enquired, “I could transcript some of it? Something important, maybe?”

Lirish puckered and twisted her lips to one side. She hummed inquisitively for a few seconds until finally concurring, “Yes, yes.” She opened the book and asked, “Please, read the index and I will tell when to stop.”

Erik did as she had asked and Lirish nodded along whilst Erik read through the index. She hummed occasionally with interest and at times she tusked, rolling her eyes, until Erik dictated the heading, “The Mining of Muinaru.”

Lirsh jolted up and exclaimed, “THAT ONE!”

[j-writes-and-suffers]

NaNoWriMo Day Two

Philip woke up to a hand on his shoulder. He yawned and rubbed his eyes, sitting up straighter in his armchair. “Huh? What’s up?”

“I’m afraid I have to kick you out, now. It’s midnight, the library is closing.” A familiar lanky figure was standing over Philip, his eyes in shadow, but his smile visible. All the lights except the one nearest them had been turned off, giving the library an eerie haunted-castle vibe.

“Crap. Sorry. I didn’t mean to keep you.” Philip scrambled to his feet, cursing under his breath. He couldn’t believe he’d fallen asleep so early; he’d bring a second coffee with him next time. Gathering his things, he realized his phone was almost dead, and he’d only finished half his lesson plans. He felt like a lazy idiot, and to make it worse, Lucien had witnessed all his incompetence. Slinging his bag over his shoulder, he hurried to the door.

Lucien chuckled. “Don’t stress yourself out. I’m not in any rush to leave.” He walked past Philip to hold the door for the younger man. “Have a good night.”

“You, too.” Philip nodded as he strolled down the front steps, “See you tomorrow.” He stopped dead in his tracks. Shit. He hadn’t meant to say that, it was just his default reply to classmates and professors.

“Is that a promise?” Still standing at the door, Lucien raised an eyebrow, backlit and grinning mischievously.

Philip bit his lip, his face flushing as he tried to gauge whether Lucien was joking. “Um… sure?”

“Wonderful. I’ll see you then.” Lucien closed the door behind him, locking it with a creaky old key.

“Yeah. Uh-huh. See you.” Philip bolted off into the night before he could say anything else stupid. By the time he got back to his apartment, it was nearly one in the morning, and he was fucking exhausted. His phone had died on the walk home, so he stuck it on the charger, changing into pajamas in the meantime.

Despite how tired he was, Philip found himself struggling to sleep. There were too many thoughts clattering around in his head. Tomorrow was the first day of Welcome Week - a period of five days prior to the start of school with introductory celebrations, campus tours, and nightly food and games.

Tuesday morning was a pep rally, followed by the induction of all the new students and teachers. In the afternoon, there were games and raffles where school merchandise like shirts, pencils, and mugs could be won. On Wednesday, the clubs, fraternities, sororities, and other organizations put out booths around the school, with recruiters trying to pull in freshman and transfers. Thursday, all the different departments held events, including a documentary marathon by the History Department, go-kart racing in the Engineering Department, and the English Department's poetry slam, which Philip was going to help host. Friday was the students versus professors dodgeball game - an infamously fun but chaotic yearly tradition. Finally, Saturday, there was a school spirit parade through the town, followed by a huge picnic in the courtyard and a bonfire in the evening, Philip wondered if he would see Lucien at any of the Spirit events. He also started to worry whether he would actually have time to return to the library tomorrow. He was helping run games in the afternoon, and wouldn't be free until at least eight or nine. He did still need to finish his lesson plans though, so he decided that even if he was tired and running a little late, he would indeed be back as promised.

He was also wondering if Lucien really wanted him to come back. Was he just messing with Philip, teasing the newcomer for shits and giggles? Or did he actually have an interest in his new colleague, and genuinely want to get to know him. He had seemed pretty sincere when they spoke, and something about his warm, vibrant eyes and subtle coy smile drew Philip in, making him more compelled to trust the older man.

What could Lucien possibly see in him? Philip wondered. He wasn't very intelligent, or worldly, or even funny. He was barely more than a student himself, just an awkward 20-something struggling to acclimate to adult responsibilities. Maybe he could impress Lucien during the week; he was planning to perform a couple of his own poems on Thursday, and he was actually pretty decent at dodgeball. Once he proved that he actually had some talents, maybe Lucien would think of him as an equal, instead of the silly kid he appeared to be now.

Having finally gathered a charge, Philip’s phone lit up as it turned itself back on. He grabbed it to check for messages - nothing new, save for an automated reminder from his cell provider. Even though the digital clock in the top right of the screen read 3:17, Philip couldn’t bring himself to try to sleep. When he closed his eyes, bright green irises hovered in his mind, simultaneously making him excited and self-conscious.

Pulling up Facebook on his phone again, he scrolled through the cute animal pictures and political memes his friends had posted all evening. He found himself laughing at most of the posts, and started to wonder whether he really was any more mature than the rest of his social circle. When he found himself guffawing at a three-second clip of a screaming frog, Philip realized he definitely wasn’t. Maybe that was okay, though. Maybe he had judged his friends too harshly earlier. Being ‘professional’ and ‘adult’ was soul-suckingly boring; there was nothing wrong with keeping a youthful sense of humour.

It was nearly five in the morning by the time Philip finally nodded off, and he groaned in dismay when his seven-thirty alarm started blaring. He should probably have gotten up earlier, to be honest; the pep rally started at nine, and he still needed to shower, eat, and walk to campus. He had thought that two and a half miles would be plenty close enough to live, but as it turns out, that’s still a pretty decent distance without a car. To be fair, Philip technically had a car. There was a vehicle registered to him, and it was parked outside the apartment. He owned the keys, and even remembered where he had left them. However, the car was older than Philip and ran about as well as an arthritic old man. It guzzled gas like no tomorrow, and didn’t even start half the time. Going anywhere less than five miles away just wasn’t worth firing it up.

By the time he had clean hair, pants on, and food in his stomach, it was already eight fifteen. Philip glanced at his phone in desperation, hoping maybe if he stared at the clock hard enough, it would rewind a ways. The clock, of course, did no such thing, simply moving on to eight sixteen as if to tell him, “Nice try, moron. Now run, or you’re gonna be late.” Philip sighed, grabbing his bag and hurrying out the front door.

The clock read 8:57 by the time he reached campus, and it was actually about five past nine when Philip finally got into the gym. Luckily, the band was blaring and the students were cheering, so it wasn’t too hard for one small guy to sneak in unnoticed. He found space to sit near the top of the bleachers, and perched on the edge of the bench. The height was a little daunting, especially since the bleachers were old and none too sturdy, but he tried to focus on the celebration below. Running a hand nervously through his hair, Philip hummed his way through the school song, realizing in the process that he didn’t know the lyrics to save his life. He probably should’ve learned them before showing up, but it was a little late for that now. However, most of the students did know the song, and their belting voices drowned out his incompetence.

When the song was over, the cheerleaders came out to do a routine, and Philip found himself struggling to focus. His mind was on Lucien again, and the height of the bleachers was really starting to bother him. Every time he looked down, his head started to spin, and about halfway through the rally, he gave up, climbing to his feet and shuffling back down the stairs. His hand cinched tightly to the railing the whole way, as he didn’t trust his wobbling legs to keep him upright. Once he was outside and on level ground, Philip managed to calm down a bit, sinking down on a bench outside the gymnasium. He checked his phone to see what time it was. 9:45. The induction ceremony wasn’t till eleven, so he had a bit to relax and compose himself.

He pulled out his phone, grabbing headphones from his bag. Listening to music always helped him relax, and his favourite band had recently put out a new album. He leaned back against the brick exterior of the gym, breathing in the cool morning air. Today was a good day. Today was an important day. He was going to be inducted, officially made part of the Elk Grove family. He was going to be a Stag, and today he’d get his honorary antlers. As silly as the mascot implementation seemed, Elk Grove had a strong school spirit, and the Stag Family was a big part of it. They may not be a big school, but they were a tight-knit one, and fiercely loyal to boot. Being a Stag wasn’t something you grew out of upon retirement or graduation, it was a title for life.

Music in his ears and a quiet breeze rustling his hair, Philip zoned out, the serenity of a tranquil fall morning sucking all the anxiety right out of him. The induction ceremony had initially seemed intimidating - the whole school watching while you made your rite of passage, going from an outsider to one of them - but now, he couldn’t wait. He had always been a bit of an outsider as a kid; small, scatterbrained, and goofy, he didn’t fit in with the athletes, the nerds, or the popular kids. This was finally a place where he could belong and be welcomed with open arms.

[cbraxs]

Warped [Time Warp Trio Fanfiction] - Chapter 1

A layer of fresh white snow covered the sidewalks and buildings of a Progressive Era New York City. Horse drawn carriages and vintage cars trampled the snow in the road into brown slush. Pedestrians dashed between vehicles. Children ran free in the streets as they tossed balls back and forth.

The pale winter sun had little effect on the world below. Women in furs and elaborate hats, and men in long coats and top hats traversed the sidewalk, their breath visible in the frigid air.

Amidst the hustle and bustle, no one noticed the swirling green vortex open up on the porch of an apartment complex and spit out three boys: Joe, Sam, and Fred. The vortex closed and the trio landed with a thud on top of each other.

Joe groaned and rubbed a kink out of his shoulder. "Everyone okay?"

"Besides my broken neck?" Fred asked and surveyed their surroundings. "Where the heck are we, the fifties?"

Besides Joe, Sam sat up. He cleaned a smudge on his glasses and put them back on. "Ford Model T cars, old timey clothes, horses in the road. It looks like the nineteen-hundreds." Sam gasped. "We must be a hundred years in the past!"

Joe shot Sam a look. "Way to go, Sam."

"Me? I'm not the one who had my best friend hanging from the rafters!"

"Easy, guys," Fred said. "Let's just find The Book and—"

"Wait." Joe frowned and looked around. "Where's—"

The door of the apartment flew open. A blonde woman wielded a cane overhead and about to beat them to death.

Killed before they were even born. What else was new?

Before the three of them were nearly assaulted by a cane-wielding psycho, it was a normal day in their seventh-period History class. Ms. Kitsch allowed them to work on their homework worksheets in class while she read a book with a dragon on it.

Joe, Sam, and Fred sat together the farthest from the door and the closest to the windows. Four desks were pushed together, the spare desk across from Joe.

Most of the class either chatted, texted, or napped. Sam dutifully worked on his homework. while Fred bobbed his head to the music on his phone. Joe shuffled his deck of magic cards and nudged Fred next to him.

"Pick a card," Joe said.

Fred pulled out an earbud and rolled his eyes. "Again? Come on, Joe..."

"I got it this time. Honest."

Fred relented and drew a card.

"Now write your name on it."

"Uh..." Fred patted himself down. He nudged Sam. "Hey, you got a pen?"

Sam sighed. "You know, one of these days you should really bring your own materials to school."

Fred put his arm around Sam and jostled him. "Why would I do that when we have you around, Sam?"

Sam handed him a pen. Fred wrote down his name and handed the card back to Joe.

Joe grinned and shuffled the deck again. "Alright, now—"

"Joseph!"

Joe jumped and scattered his cards across the desk. His classmates snickered at him.

Ms. Kitsch stood at the front of the class next to a girl he did recognize. His teacher shook her head. "Joseph, please put your cards away until after school."

He nodded. His cheeks warmed. "Sorry, ma'am."

She cleared her throat. "As I was saying, we have a new student in the class. Want to introduce yourself?"

The girl wrung her hands together. Her eyes fluttered from person to person. "I'm Izzy Shabazz."

For a second, Joe swore her eyes studied him, but as soon as he noticed it, her eyes were averted elsewhere.

"Anything you want to share about yourself, Isabella?"

"Isadora," she corrected. "Um, I like art. Painting, sculpting. History's cool, too."

Ms. Kitsch eyes lit up. "We're learning about the Renaissance this month. Do you have any interesting art history facts you'd care to share?"

The girl—Isadora— scrunched up her face in thought. "In the sixteenth and seventeenth centuries, a lot of artists used Mummy Brown for their paintings, which was made of actual, real live mummies."

Ms. Kitsch face fell. "Oh! Um..."

"Pre-Raphaelite artist, Edward Burne-Jones, buried his tube of paint in his garden after he found out."

Kayla Hines, an attractive girl with long strawberry blonde hair, shot her hand up. "Is paint, like, still made of mummies? Cause I used to finger paint."

Isadora shrugged. "Let's hope not."

Ms. Kitsch shifted, a little disturbed by the new student. She clapped her hands. "Right! Anyway, class, please make Isadora feel welcomed. Isadora, here's your worksheet, due Monday. Take a seat in the empty chair back there, next to Samuel. Samuel, please raise your hand."

Sam cringed at his formal name but raised his hand.

Isadora sat down in the empty seat. Two curly pigtails dangled from the sides of her head as she rummaged through her backpack for a pencil.

Fred cleared his throat. "Hey, how's it going?"

An awkward beat. Izzy looked up, her brows knitted together confused. "Me?"

"Uh, duh, you."

"Fred!" Sam hissed. "Don't be rude."

Joe scooped up his cards. "Don't take it personally. Fred was raised in the jungle."

Fred held his hands up and feigned offense. His smirk gave him away. "What? I'm just trying to greet her. 'Make her feel welcomed' and all that." He turned his attention back to her.

Isadora twisted her earrings. "I'm... fine. Thank you."

"As you know, I'm Fred. That's Sam, and he's Joe." Fred motioned as he listed off their names. Sam nodded. Joe waved when his name was mentioned.

She smiled. "Nice to meet you guys."

She and Sam turned their attention to their homework. Joe collected his cards and tried to resume his trick. Joe noticed Isadora watched them from the corner of his eye.

Joe pulled out the Ace of Spades. "Was this your card?"

Fred snorted. "No."

"How about... the Seven of Diamonds?"

"Nuh uh."

Joe sighed. He knew he messed up when he spilled the cards, but he wanted to give it a go anyway.

"Is this it?" Isadora said. Joe flinched. She held up the King of Clubs. Fred the Freak was scribbled across the top.

Fred snapped his fingers. "That's the one."

Joe stared at the card as she handed it to him. "How did you get that?"

"It was under your seat."

Sam, who had apparently been listening to them the entire time, chuckled under his breath.

"Can you try with me?" Isadora asked. She spun her earrings. Joe noticed that they were little hourglasses.

Joe grinned. For some reason, no one (besides his uncle Joe) ever wanted to see his tricks. "Sure."

They went through the same motions as before, minus Joe spilling the cards. He pulled out the Joker card. "Is this it?"

Isadora shook her head. "Not quite."

"Then what about..." He reached behind her ear and pulled out the Queen of Hearts, with Izzy scrawled underneath. "This?"

Fred whistled, impressed.

"Finally," Sam muttered under his breath.

There was a twinkle in Isadora's eyes. "Are you a magician?"

"No," Fred and Sam said in unison.

Joe glared at them. "Yes, I am."

"That's so cool," she said. "So is my Dad."

She paused, her face contorted in sadness. It vanished as soon as it came, so Joe dismissed it.

"Who's your dad?" Sam asked.

"The Sensational Shabazz."

Joe's chin dropped. "No way. He's your dad?"

Fred coughed, sneaking in an audible, "Dork."

Isadora nodded, but her face turned dark. She frowned, her green eyes searched for something in Joe's face. "Don't you—"

Whatever she was going to say was drowned out by the school bell. On cue, everyone jumped up and swarmed to the door as Ms. Kitsch wished everyone a good weekend.

Joe stuffed his cards back into his back pocket. "What's your next class?" He asked her.

"Art."

"I have math." He hefted his backpack to his shoulder. "But if you're interested, I'm auditioning for the talent show. A magic act. You could probably already tell that."

She nodded and stuffed her worksheet into her bag.

Joe cleared his throat. "You can come watch if you want. It's in the auditorium."

She said she would, but she seemed distracted. The trio left the class and left Isadora behind, her brow furrowed in thought.

Joe thought he'd found his big ticket item. The teachers limited each act to be four minutes, so he figured he'd focus on one thing, something big. The Metamorphosis.

The Metamorphosis was one of Joe's favorite tricks. The magician would bind themselves in chains and be locked away in a box by their lovely assistant. The assistant would then stand on top of the box and shield them from the audience with a curtain. When the curtain dropped, the magician and the assistant would switch places.

The problem? Joe wasn't a hundred percent sure how the trick was done.

And he didn't have a big enough box.

And the only chains he had were ones kids used to play Cops and Robbers.

And Fred was far from lovely.

Joe had to make due with a metal laundry hamper and Anna's old pink bed sheets. He was grateful his friends were even willing to help. Fred slapped the handcuffs on him, while Sam stood on the catwalk, moving the spotlights around.

Joe crawled into the hamper. Fred couldn't stand on top without it caving in, so Fred stood in front, held up the sheets, and dropped them. When the sheets crumbled to the floor, Fred dashed behind hamper as Joe struggled to get out. The hamper wobbled and fell to one side. Joe shrieked.

He tripped getting up, the cuffs still on one hand, and waved his arms in a flourish. "TA—"

In a moment, Joe surveyed his audience. The teacher in charge slept, his head tilted back. Drool dribbled down his chin as he snored like a chainsaw. Two students were making out in the back row, shielded by the shadows. The janitor listened to his Walkman and pushed a sweeper vacuums down the isle.

He dropped his arms. "Da."

Enthusiastic clapping made him jump. Isadora sat in the middle of the first row. He stared at her, surprised that she came.

She forced a smile. "Well, that was—"

A light plummeted from the rafters and it exploded on impact.

"Sorry!" Sam called from the catwalk. "I was—AH!"

Metal ground together. Cables snapped and Sam fell. He hung upside down, fifteen feet from the floor. The cables wrapped around him were the only thing kept him from becoming a Sam pancake on the stage.

"Help!" He cried, waving his arms around.

"Quit flailing, Sam!" Fred stood up from behind the laundry hamper. He pointed a thumb at Sam. "I got him."

He disappeared behind the stage. Fred struggling to untangle Sam became white noise in the background.

Joe sighed and sat on the edge of the stage. "Were you gonna to say that I'm a pathetic joke who's a disgrace to the industry and should give up on magic?"

Isadora jumped up. "N-no! I was just— I meant—"

"Relax." He raised his hands in defense. "I'm just kidding."

"Oh. Right. Of course you were."

She looked down, her cheeks flushed with embarrassment. Joe wondered why she'd reacted so flusteredly like no one ever joked with her.

Isadora spun her earrings. It must've been a nervous tick. "So, you're a Houdini fan?"

"What gave it away?" Joe asked.

"The Metamorphosis was one of his signature tricks. My parents used to perform it at shows. I think you do need some practice with it, though."

"I need help. I'd love to get some pointers from my uncle, but he's, um, out of town a lot."

Joe wasn't about to tell her his Uncle Joe was a time traveling magician. That kind of thing tended to make you look crazy.

Isadora walked towards the stage. "That stinks. My dad's out of town, too."

"For a show?"

She nodded but frowned. She didn't look sure.

Joe opened his mouth to speak when Fred yelled above them, "Heads up!"

Their eyes shot up. Sam, now free from his restraints, fell towards the stage.

"Sam!" Joe cried.

Isadora grabbed the closest thing— Joe's backpack— and whipped it underneath Sam. He landed on the bag with a thump and rolled over. He groaned.

In an instant, the three of them were at his side. Joe helped him to his feet. "Sorry, Sam. Are you okay?"

"Just peachy," he said. He rubbed the arm he landed on and turned to Isadora. "Thanks for the quick thinking."

"You're welcome," she said. "I'm sorry I hurled your backpack, Joe. I hope nothing's broken."

Sam picked up the bag. "Jeez, Joe. What do you have in here—"

The Book slipped out of the bag and hit the floor. The pages fluttered open. The familiar green mist curled from The Book and surrounded the four of them.

"—bricks?" Sam squeaked.

Isadora waved her hand to disperse the mist. "What the heck is—"

In an instant, the four of them warped in a flash of green light.

The trio scrambled up as the woman swung the cane, missing Sam by a hair.

"Hey!" Sam yelped. "Watch where you're swinging that thing."

The woman hefted the cane over her head. "I'm tired of you good-for-nothing bums thinking you can sleep on my porch whenever you want."

She swung again. They dodged. Joe stepped in front of his friends.

"We're not bums, ma'am," he said. "We're actually—"

"Say 'magicians'," Fred muttered, "and I'll beat you myself."

The woman fumed. Her glare could melt the snow on the porch. She was six feet tall with blonde hair up in a bun. She wore an old fashioned blouse, high waist skirt, and a bowtie.

She lowered her cane. Joe's heart skipped a beat. A glowing hourglass filled with green sand sat on top of the silver cane.

How had he not noticed that before?

His eyes shot up to the apartment address. A familiar number "twenty-six" was printed on the windowpane. This was his home, a hundred years in the past, and this bloodthirsty nut must have been an ancestor of his.

Joe pointed at the number above. "Guys! Check it out."

Fred and Sam gasped.

"What are you boys jawing about?" the woman asked, the edge still in her voice.

Before they could answer, a boy step hopped forward from behind her, tugging on a dress shoe. His sweater vest was untucked, his tie was askew.

The boy smiled wide. "Bout time you three show up!"

The boys looked at each other.

"Us?" Fred asked.

"Of course, you knuckle head." The boy tied his tie. "I've been waiting for you guys. Mother, these are some of my buddies from work. Swell guys. We're heading to the show together."

The boy's mom squinted her eyes at the trio. The three of them smiled and tried to look swell.

"My apologies," she said through gritted teeth. She turned to the boy, and her eyes softened. "Eugene, be safe. I'll expect you home by eight tonight."

Eugene kissed her on the cheek and grabbed a coat from the coat hanger. "I'll tell you all about when I'm back. Come on boys, let's walk and talk."

Eugene motioned for the three of them to follow and bounded down the steps, a spring in his step. The boys looked at each other.

"Should we follow him?" Joe asked.

A muffled rustle. The woman peeked behind the blinds and glared at them.

Sam yelped and bolted down the steps after Eugene. "I vote yes."

Joe and Fred followed suit.

Eugene weaved through the crowd as if this was a regular routine of his. The trio caught up to him as he attached a rounded collar to his shirt.

"Thanks for the save back there, man," Joe said.

"You're quite welcome," Eugene said, "if you'll excuse my mother."

Fred tugged on his hat to keep it from blowing away. "Nice lady. In a murderous sort of way."

"Her bark is worse than her bite," Eugene assured them. "Besides, she's a little on edge since a certain, um, family heirloom vanished."

"This family heirloom wouldn't happen to be a blue book, would it?" Joe asked.

Eugene halted. "With silver squiggles?"

"That's the one."

"How do you know that? Are you another time traveler?"

Joe looked at Sam and Fred. A silent conversation happened between them in a second. Joe decided to come clean and told Eugene the truth. Eugene stared at him and listened in stunned silence before he accepted Joe's story. He surprised Joe with a bear hug and picked him up. Pedestrians gave them odd looks as Sam and Fred snickered.

"This is outstanding!" Eugene laughed and let Joe down. "I never met a future relative before. That explains what happened to The Book. Ours must have warped out you three warped in."

"And our Book is missing, too," Joe said.

"Which is just perfect," Sam mumbled.

"Hey, it's not exactly like this trip was planned. I didn't even know The Book was in my bag."

It was true. Joe remembered locking The Book in the box after a run in with a belligerent Bolshevik in pre-Soviet Russia (long story. Don't ask). Did he put it in his bag before school this morning? No, he didn't see why he would do that. Was Anna playing a practical joke? Joe doubted it. Anna could be annoying, but she was responsible with The Book.

He shook his head. It didn't matter now. They were already here, so all they could do now was to find The Book. Besides, it wasn't the only thing they were missing.

"Have you seen a girl around here, Eugene?" Joe asked. "She has pigtails, a bluish greenish shirt."

"Pants," Fred added. "That might help narrow it down."

Eugene shook his head. "Doesn't ring a bell. But maybe she's at the Hippodrome?"

Fred frowned, confused. "That office building where my cousin Tyler is a janitor?"

"Why would she be there?" Joe asked.

"Maybe she's looking for a job?"

Joe rolled his eyes.

"Actually," Sam said, "the Hippodrome used to be the biggest theater in New York. It had circuses, operas. Houdini even had a show where he made an elephant completely disappear."

Eugene smiled. "That's precisely where we're going!"

Joe choked. "W-we-we're going to see Houdini?"

"That's right."

"And he's going to make a whole elephant disappear?"

"Well, half an elephant wouldn't make much of a show now, would it?"

Stars formed in Joe's eyes. "Let's go. Right now."

Joe started again. Fred snagged him by the hood of his jacket. "Dude, did you forget about the whole girl that we made disappear?"

He folded his arms. "No! Of course not. But there is a chance she's there."

Sam and Fred looked at each other like they didn't buy it.

Joe wasn't trying to cover his tracks. Of course, he was excited for the chance to see Houdini's show, but he did believe Isadora was there or at least was heading there. She was clearly a fan of Houdini, and, once she figured out what was happening, would probably take up the chance to see Houdini live, too. That is if she wasn't in any trouble.

Joe's gut twisted at the thought that his Book put an innocent girl he barely knew in danger. He remembered how lost and terrified he was when he first warped. He hated to think she might be going through the same thing.

"Besides," Joe said, "maybe Isadora has The Book?"

Izzy fell face first in the middle road and ate a mouthful of dirty snow. She sat up and spat out snow.

"Bleh," she groaned. Her head pounded. "What the—"

An old fashioned car dodged her by an inch. The driver laid on the horn as he passed.

"—heck!" She jumped.

Men and woman in vintage clothes scrutinized her as cars and horse-drawn carriages avoided her. The drivers shouted and gave her rude gestures.

She shivered. "Oh, God. Is this purgatory?"

A carriage drawn by two horses approached Izzy, but instead of moving around her, it forged straight ahead. Izzy barely noticed. She rubbed her eyes and stared at her surroundings, too stunned move.

At the last second, the man guiding the horses pulled at the reigns and the horses stopped.

"Imprudent simp!" The man yelled.

Izzy frowned. "I'm not a chimp."

The man on the carriage wore a black and blue Venetian mask, along with a black cape and suit. A ring with a blue stone shone on his middle finger.

Master Mysterio was painted on the side of the royal blue carriage along with a caricature of the driver.

Izzy nodded approvingly at the artwork. "Nice paint job."

The man, presumably Master Mysterio, narrowed his eyes. "Jaywalking in the middle of the road. Interrupting the flow of traffic. Are you a fool?"

"A fool?"

A crowd formed around to watch them. They pointed at Izzy and murmured, who shivered and hugged herself. She wished she had the foresight to bring a jacket.

"Are you aware that jaywalking is a crime?" Master Mysterio went on. "You should be arrested."

She quirked an eyebrow. "Arrested?"

Out of the corner of Izzy's eye, she noticed someone step out of a car and head towards the two of them. The man, who wore a bow tie long coat suit, was around her father's age with graying hair parted in the middle.

Some of the people in the crowd oohed and ahhed as he approached. Master Mysterio glowered down at him.

"No need to cause a scene, Lauren," the new man said.

Izzy's jaw went slack. "Y-y-you're Hou—"

"Houdini, my friend," Mysterio said in a way that made Izzy doubt he considered him a friend. "You're defending this delinquent?"

Harry Houdini— THE Harry Houdini— shook his head and motioned to Izzy. "Can't you tell that she's an immigrant by her eccentric outfit?"

She looked down at her outfit. She wore a teal tank top over a white t-shirt and pink pants. She wondered if the colors were too bright.

Izzy said, "Me, uh, ahoy-hoy! Wow! You're a—what?"

Oh, Isadora, she thought. Your eloquence is unparalleled.

"She can't even speak proper English yet," Houdini said. "The poor girl simply isn't privy to our laws yet."

"Ignorance of the law is not an excuse." Mysterio snapped his fingers and pointed into the crowd." Officer! Arrest this-this goon, post haste."

A chubby officer stepped forward, baton in hand. For a moment, Izzy worried that the cop would beat her. She could defend herself a little. She'd been learning Tae Kwon Do for about three months now on her father's insistence, but he also told her to always respect authorities.

But instead, he replaced the baton with rusty handcuffs.

Izzy squeaked and backed up. "I-I'm only fifteen! Don't I get three strikes or a stern talking to? A pink slip?"

Her pleas were ignored as the officer cuffed her. "Sorry, little lady. I got a quota to fill."

The masked man smirked. Houdini shook his head and trekked back to his car. The crowd dispersed, upset that the show was over.

Izzy was loaded into the back of patrol car. She was greeted by twins cuffed together and a plump elderly woman.

"Uh..." Izzy shrugged her shoulders in lieu of waving. "Hello?"

The woman snorted and flipped around a butterfly knife. For some reason, she wasn't handcuffed. The twins sized her up, looked at each other, and chuckled.

The vehicle started. Izzy tripped but managed to steady herself.

She backed up to the door and gave it a good kick. Locked. She spread her palms as best she could against the chill metal. Thin enough to slip past.

"Hey, baby," one of the guys said. "You ain't gonna get out. Why don't you come sit over here?"

"No thank you, sir." She wiggled her arms. The sharp edges of the handcuffs dug into her skin. They were thick and heavy, but breaking out would be child's play.

Her father often warned her about using any magic in public. People would freak out or ask too many questions, but the thought of going to jail made her stomach churn. Besides, she didn't think that the officers at the police station would help her, let alone believe her when she told them she wasn't from this time period, or pocket dimension, or whatever.

Wherever she was, those guys would have to know. Izzy remembered seeing the three of them after they were sucked into that glowing green portal. They had to be here, too, but where exactly?

She bit her lip as she tried to recall their names. She could kick herself, she was always so bad at names. She never had to remember any before today. After a moment, the names Sam and Fred came to her. She hadn't forgotten Joe's name.

The morning after her dad left, Izzy read and reread and rereread the letter he left her. Partially because she was dyslexic, and partially because she couldn't believe what was going on.

Her father told her to find the magician name Joe and she had. He was supposed to protect her while her father was away, but Joe seemed unaware of what was happening. Had her dad forgotten to inform Joe? He could be pretty forgetful.

She needed answers, about where she was and about her father. For that, she needed to find Joe, Sam, and Fred. Izzy hoped that they were in a better situation than she was.

But first things first, she needed to get out of the cop car.

"Well." She looked at her new friends. "You guys are gonna see something weird."

Lauren Anderson grinned as he headed to the Hippodrome. He considered the encounter with the "great" Harry Houdini a minor victory. For years, he'd struggled to outdo the man to no avail. While not in magic, Lauren had finally accumulated a win against him. Sending some silly girl on her way to jail was merely collateral damage.

He handed over the reigns of his buggy to the negro valet and grabbed his heavy jacket from his side seat. Something block shaped slid from the seat and hit the ground.

Lauren furrowed his brow. "What in God's name..."

A blue book decorated with silver ribbons and strange symbols stared up at him. He recognized it as that book his dimwitted assistant, Eugene Ellis, always had his nose in. Lauren figured that Eugene left it there when he made him wash the carriage yesterday.

Eugene was quite secretive of the contents of the book and would snap it shut whenever he noticed someone around. Curious, Lauren scooped it up and headed inside.

Lauren fought his way through the crowd. To his chagrin, the crowd was large, full of the rich, poor, and in between. Houdini never failed to drum up an audience.

He looked at the Lapis Lazuli ring on his middle finger. He considered making it rain on this little parade, but decided against it.

Once inside, Lauren picked a seat front and centered and flipped open the book. Blocks of text next to realistic pictures of Egyptian pyramids, medieval villages, Chinese landmarks, and other interesting historical bits flashed by as he turned the page. Eugene's father was a historian, and his ill-tempered yet fetching mother was a teacher, so it didn't surprise him that Eugene would also be interested in history.

He landed on a picture of the Hippodrome with a crowd lined up to the doors. He scoffed but decided to read the text.

January 7th, 1918, the paragraph read. Lauren Anderson sat in seat fourteen, row A, in the Hippodrome, reading The Book—

Lauren dropped The Book. It landed with a thump that was dull to his ears. He clenched his chest to keep his heart from galloping out of his ribcage. He counted backwards from ten in his head until his heart slow down.

He ignored the strange looks he got as his shaky hands picked The Book back up. He turned back to the page.

Lauren dropped The Book and nearly had a conniption. People looked at him funny. He didn't notice.

An image of himself reading The Book appeared underneath the text. In the image, he looked as though he was on the verge of vomiting. The image was clearer and more realistic than any picture taken with a camera.

He snapped The Book shut and tried to control his breathing. Was this some kind of past/present future telling device? What was that little brat Eugene doing with a book like this? How did he get a book like this?

Lauren twisted the ring on his finger. In all fairness, Eugene wasn't the only one with a magical item. However, his little rain machine wasn't quite as impressive.

A grin spread across Lauren's face as formulated a plan to use this to his advantage. Returning The Book hadn't crossed his mind.