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is0gild · 4 years

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 3

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 5,841

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

I’d done it.

I’d gotten a job.

My very first job.

And I was already regretting it big time.

But really, could you blame me? I’d had to interact with three, count them, three people so far. Would the torture never end? No, because it had only just begun! And those were just my boss and coworkers, I hadn’t even gotten to a customer yet. I was dreading that inevitable moment as it drew ever nearer with each passing second.

Oh, and did I mention the uniform? Because, dear lord, if I’d known this is what I’d be signing up for, I probably never would have applied in the first place. For starters, I had to wear a light blue fitted, long sleeved, off shoulder blouse which, granted, wasn’t that bad. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. It was paired with a black mini skirt that stopped a couple inches short of the knees. Can you believe it? A mini skirt. I didn’t see any of my male coworkers sporting booty shorts, no, they got to be fully covered up in white button ups, blue vests, and black slacks. Talk about sexist!

But a job was a job, and I had to start somewhere.

And that somewhere just so happened to be the Ice Palace - a small ice cream shop located in the food court of a local mall known as Dusk Town Center. The walls of the little parlor were decorated in a jagged, cerulean, semi-transparent plastic, simulating the whole frozen castle vibe. The mascot was Sven the Reindeer, which was actually sort of weird to me. I mean, I get it, reindeers are up where it’s cold and snowy all the time, but weren’t they really more of a Santa thing? I just couldn’t really picture them chilling in a frosty throne room, you know what I mean? But hey, I guess it just gave the marketing team an excuse to sell cute caribou plushies, which were everywhere - dangling from the ceiling, sitting atop the cash registers, filling boxes upon boxes in the back… basically anywhere there wasn’t ice cream, there was a stuffed, huggable, googly eyed little deer.

All in all, not exactly a dream job, but pickers can’t be choosers. Especially when the picker, aka me, had flunked out of twenty-some-odd interviews before finally landing this one. Don’t get me wrong, Rayne and Riku had been great teachers. The problem had been with the pupil. No matter how hard they tried to iron out all my nervous habits and anxiety-induced rambling, a few quirks had still managed to slip through. This had led to no small number of awkward moments and don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-yous. But at last I’d managed to keep it together long enough in one interview to trick someone into hiring the trainwreck that was me.

Just my luck it had to be the frigging food court ice cream place with the stupidly short skirts.

It was my first day on the job. The guy who was training me had left me alone after setting me up with a handful of orientation videos to watch and telling me to come get him when I was done. I was seated in one dark corner of this small room that was part storage space, part break area. Before me was a tiny TV atop a VCR that could only be from the Stone Age. Seriously, I didn’t even know such relics were still in circulation anymore. The videos were just about as dated and mind-numbing as you’d expect. They included one such gem as, now that I was a valued employee of Ice Palace, I wasn’t just a part of team but a family. It also felt the need to cover the obvious, things like don’t be rude, don’t handle the product without washing your hands first, don’t kiss, grope, or otherwise manhandle coworkers or customers, don’t go getting yourself locked in a freezer… you know, things I would never, ever do in the first place, not in a million years.

Suffice it to say, I was bored out of my skull.

That said, this was way better than having to talk to an actual human being. So it probably wasn’t hard to imagine my disappointment when the credits at last rolled on the final tape. Sighing, I rose from my chair and clicked off the ancient television set before turning to face the door across the room. My fellow employee that I needed to check in with now was somewhere on the other side of it.

Where the customers were.

Waiting.

Lurking.

I shuddered.

I then took the opportunity to fidget with my skirt, tugging at the hem a bit.

Note to self: use first paycheck to invest in some tights. This whole bare legs thing just was not working for me.

Ugh, why a mini skirt of all things?! I mean, come on, it was the Ice Palace, shouldn’t we be dressing more the part? I’m thinking Inuit attire, I’m talking fur-lined boots and layers upon layers of thick, fuzzy coats covering me from head to toe. But a skirt? It just wasn’t realistic! If I were in a real castle made entirely of frost, I’d be freezing my rear off right about now!

I then adjusted the black cap with a blue bill atop my head that sported our cursive logo, complete with a teeny doodle of a palace, before tightening my ponytail that stuck out the hole in the back. I’d opted for that over my usual braid. Figured it would make it harder for me to fiddle with my hair when I got anxious.

Unfortunately, I had now run out of trivial (but one hundred percent necessary) ways to procrastinate. Guess there was no putting it off any longer. I slowly approached the door, watching it grow more ominous with every step that brought me closer to it. Halting in front of it, I reached for the knob. But then I stopped, hesitating before retracting my hand and looking back over my shoulder towards a second door on the opposite wall, a green Exit sign glowing over it.

The door to freedom.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late for me to follow my dreams and become a hermit. I could always buy a fake beard. No one would ever know the difference.

My eyes darted back and forth between the two doors, my breath becoming shallow and my heartrate quickening. Then, biting down on my lower lip, I took a step towards that Exit sign and-

“There you are!”

I froze with a wince before turning my back on that tantalizing exit, instead facing my coworker who was now leaning in through the other door. He was tall with brown eyes and his head shaved bald beneath his own cap. A thin, black goatee wrapped around the friendly grin he was shooting my way as he now fully stepped into the room to join me, looking quite dapper in his vest and neatly ironed pants.

I chuckled nervously, clasping my hands behind my back. “Er, yeah… here I am.”

Drat. So close!

“Was wondering if you’d gotten lost, figuring as how you should’ve been long done with those videos by now.”

“Nope, was just… on my way, Lucius.”

“Ah ah!” he chided, waggling a finger in my face before gesturing to his work attire. “When I’m in the uniform, it’s Frozone.”

I blinked. “...Fro...zone?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yup. Because when I’m on the clock, I’m in the zone.” That last word was emphasized with a wide sweep of his outstretched hand before he tacked on dramatically, “The Frozen Zone.”

“...I see.”

He seemed to take great pride in his work.

I wondered if I would ever be that dedicated.

...or if I ever even really wanted to be that dedicated.

“So, um… Mr Frozone… what’s next?”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder back towards the door he’d come in through. “Figured we could get you up front now, start familiarizing you with the space and equipment.”

“R-really? So soon?” My fingers twitched, reaching for my braid before remembering it wasn’t there. Instead I settled for crossing my arms. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Answer: A big fat no.

“Well, let’s see here.” He started ticking off fingers, “You’ve watched the videos, you’ve had the grand tour, you’ve-”

“No I haven’t!” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Had the grand tour, that is.”

“No? Well alright then.” He stepped past me and further into the room, then stopped and pivoted around to face me, spreading his arms out to either side of him. “Here it is, in all its glory. Just breathe in that majesty.”

This cramped break-slash-storage room was it, apparently. Besides the TV and VCR in one corner, most of it was filled with giant, industrial-grade fridges for housing all the ice cream. Plus a couple of large metal sinks, plus the aforementioned boxes upon boxes of reindeer plushies. Squeezed into one corner was a humble couch that’d seen better days, along with a small table with a couple rickety-looking chairs. A giant bulletin board hanging from one wall completed the look, covered in workplace guidelines, announcements, and different colored flyers.

“Oh.” I pursed my lips to one side. “Very, ah… very majestic.”

“Isn’t it just?” he nodded, hands on his hips as he smiled broadly. “Welp, that’s that. Now let’s get you up to the registers to continue your training.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I should watch the videos one more time. Just to make sure, that… uh...”

Reason… reason… dear god, please, come up with a reason, any reason!

“...that I... didn’t... miss anything?”

He laughed. “You’re thorough and detail oriented. I like that.” He planted his hands on my shoulders and steered me towards the door of doom. “Feel free to rewatch those tapes on your own time, but for now, let’s move on.”

“But-”

He gave me a gentle but firm push and I stumbled through the door and straight into my own personal hell.

Alright, fine, maybe I was being a bit over dramatic. There weren’t even any customers in line at the moment. Seemed like it was just after the lunch rush and most of the people had already eaten and cleared out. There were just a couple families left dotting the tables out there in the otherwise empty food court beyond our countertop.

Swallowing my nerves and inhaling deeply to calm myself, I glanced around my more immediate area. I was a bit curious after all, seeing as how this was my first real time on this side of the cash register. But really? There wasn’t much to it. There was a giant frozen display proudly presenting a rainbow of different flavored ice cream. Beneath it behind the counter were some small metal doors that seemed to be some more refrigerated storage space. In one corner was this fancy looking ice cream machine, with stacks on stacks of empty cups and cones beside it. There were some large menus overhead on the back wall and beneath them, a snowman crudely painted onto the door that I had just been so unceremoniously shoved through. Then of course, those plastic “ice” walls and reindeer dolls overflowing from every crook and cranny that they could conceivably be crammed into.

That about summed it up. That, plus the burly blonde guy manning one of the registers that would be my second coworker.

He turned his head, giving me a look that admittedly wasn’t quite a scowl, but wasn’t exactly warm and inviting either.

I gulped and unconsciously took a step back, immediately bumping into something. Looking over my shoulder, that something turned out to be a someone: Lu… erm, I mean, Frozone.

Hand on my shoulder once more, he guided me forward and I took a few reluctant steps closer to the other man. “Elsa, you remember Kristoff from earlier, right?”

I gave a weak nod and raised my hand in a tiny wave. “H-hi again.”

He only continued to fix me with a dull stare.

“Oh yeah, you two are going to be fast friends, I can already tell,” Frozone beamed. “Now Kristoff here is going to be taking over your training and showing you the ropes up here. There’s a new shipment in back that I should get to sorting out, but just give a holler if you need me.”

“Wait!” I snatched at his sleeve as he turned to leave through the back door. My eyes darted from him to Kristoff and back before I whispered, “Do you really have to go?”

I had actually been growing comfortable around him. He seemed nice.

This Kristoff guy on the other hand seemed, erm… how should I put this… shall we say, grumpy?

Frozone chuckled, tugging himself free of my grasp and patting me on the head. “I’m flattered, girl, but I’m a taken man. Honey is the light of my life and trust me, you do not want to get on that woman’s bad side.”

“Wha-?” I blinked a couple times. “No, that’s not what I-”

Annnnnnd there he went, calling a cheerful, “Have fun, you two!” over his shoulder as he disappeared into the back.

Sighing, I turned to face Kristoff and was greeted once more by that same deadpan expression.

Oh yeah. So much fun.

Taking a cautious step towards him, I cleared my throat and rubbed my left elbow. “So… that Frozone… really seems to take his job seriously, huh?”

“...don’t even get me started,” he said flatly.

So he speaks.

Barely.

I tried again. “What do I call you? Kristoff okay? Or just Kris? ...Kristo?” I was met with total silence. “...Oh, maybe that’s already short for something, like… Kristopher? Kristofel? Kris...toforos?” Mayday! Mayday! I was beginning to enter nervous babbling territory. Send help. “Or perhaps, oh! Do we all get theme names? Like Frozone? What would yours be? Are you the, uh… hmm, the, um… the Iceman?”

Face unchanged and dead serious, he said at last, “Oh yeah. That’s me. The Iceman. I love ice. Ice is my life. I eat, drink, and breathe nothing but ice. At night, I go to my ice house, eat my ice dinner, tuck myself into my ice bed, and cuddle with a bag of ice like it’s a teddy bear.”

“...really?”

If possible, his eyelids drooped even further. “No.”

“Oh.”

I knew that.

He heaved a soft, grumbling huff. “Kristoff is fine. Let’s go, new girl.”

He left his station behind the cash register to walk over to the display housing the frozen tubs, slapping a hand down on top of the chilly glass. “Ice cream,” he explained dryly. He then bent down to open one of the metal doors below, pulling out what appeared to be a plastic wrapped, solid bar of sugary sweetness on a stick. “More ice cream.” He tossed it back in with the rest just like it, kicking the door shut. He then picked up a rounded, steel utensil. “Ice cream scoop. You know how to use one, right?”

“Ah,” I brightened. “Yes, of course!”

“Congratz, you’re at least as competent as a four-year-old.”

Hey now, rude.

Returning the scoop to where he’d found it, Kristoff then walked over to the giant machine in the corner. As I approached it as well, I began to appreciate just how much of a monster this thing truly was with all its buttons, switches, levers, and tubes on it. It was actually kind of intimidating. What on earth could they all even possibly do?

“Combo soft serve/milkshake machine,” Kristoff continued on in his bored monotone as he planted an elbow atop the thing, leaning against it. He pointed at a big lever on the left over one tube. “Ice cream.” Next at another big lever, this one on the right over a second tube with some sort of gizmo sticking out of it. “Milkshakes.” His index finger shifted down to three large buttons running down the bottom right corner in front, first indicating the top one. “Turns it on and off.” Then the bottom button. “Flavor swapper.”

“And this one?” My fingers drifted towards the middle button.

“No touchy,” he lightly swatted my hand away. “That one makes it angry. And trust me, you won’t like it when it’s angry.”

I tipped my head to one side. “...why would there even be a button like that?”

He shrugged, intoning airily, “No one knows.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, then shook my head, my gaze returning to that monstrosity of a machine. “What about all those other levers and switches on the side?”

“Woah, slow down, newbie. You gotta learn to crawl before you can walk. For now, just stick to the basics. Ice cream. Shakes. Off and on. Flavor,” he pointed to each one in turn again as he listed them off before giving me yet another dull look. “Am I going too fast for you? Maybe you should be writing this down.”

It was my turn for some eyelid droopage. “I think I got it.”

“Good. You’re ready for your first customer then. And as luck would have it,” he pointed past me, “here he comes.”

“What?!” I spun around on my heel. Some guy had just entered the food court on the opposite end from the Ice Palace, but was making a beeline straight for us.

Panic mode initiated. Hands? Clammy. Face? Blanched. Heart? Pounding. All systems a go.

“Relax, new girl.” Kristoff slapped me on the back, forcing a tiny oof out of me. “I know this dude, we all do around this place. He and his girlfriend are mallrats that’ll spend hours here, visiting all the stores and making friends with everyone. You should have no problem. Total training wheels.”

His words did nothing to ease my growing nerves and I must have been doing a terrible job of hiding it because he snorted, “You’ll be fine. Just step up to the register.” He waved a hand towards it.

I swallowed hard, then numbly walked over to it.

“Smile,” he pointed to his own grin that he now had plastered on for show, looking remarkably strange on a man I had seen zero emotion from all day. I forced my own smile and he flinched. “Ehh, maybe not so much.” I toned it down a bit. “Better. Now just say, ‘Welcome to Ice Palace, how may I take your order?’ and the rest should be a no brainer.”

Easy for you to say, buddy.

Taking a small shaky breath, I looked away from him and towards the customer once more just as he closed in on the counter. He had bright blue eyes, brown spiky hair, and a huge grin that just about literally split his face in two.

Okay, Elsa, you can do this.

“Welcome to Ice Palace, how…”

Oh fudge, I’d already forgotten the line! My mind was drawing a complete blank. The blankest of blanks.

“...uh…”

Panic, panic, panic!

“...how… you… order?”

Hi, yes, one stammering idiot at your service.

I heard the smack of Kristoff’s facepalm before he whispered under his breath, “Eh, close enough.”

Seemingly unfazed by my mental malfunction, the guy just continued to flash those pearly whites. “Hey there, could I get two bars of the Paopu Paradise ice cream please?”

“Ah… y-yes, right away!” I darted over to the frozen display case, picking up one of the scoops and reaching for the sliding glass door in back. However, I froze when I heard a throat clearing and turned to see Kristoff jerking a thumb towards the freezer space below.

...oh right, bars. He’d said he’d wanted bars of ice cream. Fumbling to put the scoop back, I bent down to open the cold door, located the stack labeled “Paopu Paradise” and snatched two off the top before straightening back up and thrusting them proudly over the counter into the customer’s face.

Another throat clear.

I glanced at Kristoff again, who mouthed the word ‘munny’ at me.

...minor detail.

“Er, yes… that’ll be, uh…” I stared down at one of the plastic-sheathed ice creams, spinning it around by the stick, as if looking for the price tag.

Kristoff groaned before tiredly commanding, “Cash register.” I hastily moved to stand in front of it once more. He pointed to one of the keys. “Push that one.” Done. “Now that one and that one.” Done and done. A munny total appeared on the register’s little black screen and he gestured for me to go on. I read off the amount and the customer, still sunny faced as ever, handed me the munny. To my credit, I only flinched slightly when the cash drawer noisily popped open, allowing the munny to be deposited.

After slamming it back shut, I looked to Kristoff again, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. “Now?”

He closed his eyes and gave me a solemn nod.

Feeling my muscles relax slightly, I turned back to the customer, offering him his two ice creams once again.

“Thanks!” he chirped, taking them both in one hand and ripping the plastic off one before immediately chomping down hard into the frozen treat, making me wince.

Jeez, this guy must have had the teeth of a viking!

After swallowing the bite, he licked his lips and eyed me curiously. “You’re new, right?”

“Gee, how did you ever guess?” Kristoff deadpanned. I merely turned my head to narrow my eyes up at him.

Ignoring the comment from the peanut gallery, the guy offered his free hand to me. “You’ll probably be seeing me around a lot, so figure I should introduce myself. I’m Sora! Nice to meetcha!”

I hesitated before taking his hand gingerly and shaking it. “...Elsa. A pleasure.”

He froze mid-lick of his ice cream bar, blinking at me. “Elsa?” Lowering his snack a little now, he cocked his head. “Hey, you just moved in with Riku and Ray, didn’t you?”

My head rocked back at that. “How did you-?”

“Stalker,” Kristoff stretched the word out in a low singsong.

Sora’s eyes widened. “Wha? No, no, I know Riku! He’s my cousin and my best bud! He’d mentioned renting out their spare room to an old gal pal of Ray’s and that you were going through a bit of a rough patch, that’s all!” That blinding grin was slowly returning. “Hey, if there’s any way I can help out too, just let me know!”

“Oh.” My brow furrowed. “Uh… thanks…”

...you complete and total stranger.

“Don’t mention it! We’re friends now!”

Ah. My mistake. We were friends.

Apparently.

“Anyway, gotta run,” he waggled the second unopened bar slightly, “Kairi’s waiting for me and she’ll murder me if I let this melt! See ya around!” He waved good-bye to us over his shoulder as he walked off, happily slurping away at his own ice cream. I found myself absently returning the wave, one corner of my lips twitching up.

That guy? Bit of an oddball. But he seemed sweet.

“Not bad, newbie,” I heard Kristoff say as he poked the bill of my Ice Palace cap down, making it cover my eyes.

“Really?” I asked, righting my hat and looking up at him. Surprise of surprises, he was actually smiling.

...okay, it wasn’t so much a smile as it was a faint tightening of the mouth. But hey, I’ll take it.

“Not great, either,” he shrugged. “Not even remotely. But it’s a start. You’ll get better at it as you go. Now let’s cover-”

“Yo, Kristoff!”

Recognizing Frozone’s voice, we turned to see him poking a head out the door to the back. “Could you give me a quick hand with moving a particularly heavy box?”

“Sure thing, be there in just a sec,” Kristoff called. Frozone (gah, it will never not be weird calling him that) nodded before disappearing once more.

My insides shriveled somewhat. “You’re leaving me by myself up here?”

He gave my arm a light, reassuring pat. “I’ll be real quick, promise. It’s dead right now, so you probably won’t even have to deal with a single customer before I get back. If you do, don’t worry, you’re a natural. Just take their order, easy-peasy. And if you need help, tell the customer to wait a moment and come get me.”

I once again was reaching for my braid. It once again was not there. “What if they don’t want to wait a moment?”

“Just tell ‘em we’re out of whatever flavor they want and say ‘Let me see if we have any more in the back.’ Got it?”

“I guess so…”

“Good! Be back before you know it.” He jogged off and out the door, but a second later, he was leaning back through it again. “Remember, you say…” he twirled a finger sideways, prompting me.

“...let me see if we have any more in the back?” I ventured in a tiny voice.

He gave me a thumbs up. “Perfect.” Then he was gone again.

I moved to stand at the counter once more, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Let me see if we have any more in the back,” I repeated, muttering it softly to myself as I eyed the food court warily.

He was right though, it was basically a ghost town out there. Everyone had already eaten for lunch and had all probably packed themselves back into the various stores by now. Plus it was a weekday. Thank goodness my first day hadn’t been on the weekend, I most certainly was not ready for the stampede of shoppers that would have come with that! As it was right now, there were only a few folks out there milling around for an afternoon snack and luckily none of them seemed to be craving ice cream. So I could maybe relax… at least for the moment.

Today… actually wasn’t going too bad so far. The job itself didn’t seem all that terrible. I was getting along with my coworkers, even that Kristoff fellow. He’d acted all tough at first, but seemed actually somewhat friendly underneath that cool exterior. I’d even helped my first customer! And with minimal mistakes, no less!

Maybe… maybe I could actually do this!

Okay sure, was I still a bit of a tangled ball of anxiety inside? Yes. Would I continue to be with each new customer? Oh, without a doubt. But with time, maybe, hopefully, it would lessen? At least somewhat?

A girl could dream anyway.

Regardless, I was doing it. The whole independence thing. Taking control of my life. I still had a long way to go, but this little ice cream job was the first small step. If I could do this, then maybe, just maybe there wasn’t much I couldn’t do. It wouldn’t be easy, and there was still a lot more for me to figure out. Like, a lot more. But I could and would. I just needed to believe in myself.

Feeling just a bit more on the chipper side now - an emotion that I hadn’t truly felt in a long time - I glanced around the food court again, really taking it all in this time, especially the other brightly colored restaurants that formed our neighbors.

There was The Big Olive, which served greek food. Currently a woman with heavy lavender eyeshadow and thick brown hair tied back into a long ponytail with curly fringe stood behind the register, idly flipping through a magazine. Then there was a chinese place called Mushu’s Kingdom with a cute little red dragon at the tail end of the logo. Next, there was Beast Burgers. I’d thought Kristoff cranky, but the big, hairy guy working there at the moment made Kristoff look like a cuddly puppy. Right beside that was a Cajun/Creole-style restaurant called Frog Legs, followed by a place called Sugar Rush, which looked like it served mostly pastries and any other sweet that wasn’t ice cream. Judging by the several large signs they had up, they seemed particularly proud of their cinnamon buns, which looked to be more frosting than bread.

Then there was a Lucky Cat Café, which was basically a coffee empire that had a shop located practically on every last street corner in the universe. I recalled that’s where Riku had purchased my mocha from the day I had officially moved in with Rayne and him. He’d probably bought it from this exact one that I was looking at right now. The mall was only a couple short blocks away from our apartment after all, which made it extra convenient that I’d managed to get the job here.

At that moment, I could see a woman with shoulder-length blue hair working the register while her coworker, a younger guy with short, messy blonde hair, blended a frothy drink nearby. They both were wearing green visors with felt feline ears sticking out the top. The blonde gave the grey cat with stripes perched atop their muffin display counter a quick pat on the head as he passed it by to reach the awaiting customer. It was only when I saw the creature’s tail twitch that I realized that was an actual living, breathing cat. Huh. A pet? Kept in the food court? How odd. It must have been very well trained. Probably just napped in that single spot all day, every day.

Last but not least, directly across the way from the Ice Palace was a Pizza Planet, its green logo sporting a giant, round pizza pie with a Saturn-like ring wrapped around it. It tied neck-and-neck with our ice cream parlour for most over the top decorations. The interior was designed to look like the inside of a UFO and was littered with toy rocket ships and little green alien squeeze-dolls everywhere. Stationed at the cash register was a girl with short raven hair, clapping and cheering her coworker on.

Said coworker was a tall, lanky guy who, like his fellow employee, was decked out in a dark grey polo with red trimmed sleeves and collar, accompanied by a pair of black fingerless gloves and khakis underneath his black, snuggly-tied full-body apron. His long, wild crimson hair trailed down past the nape of his neck and spilled out in spikes over his open-topped red visor. He was grinning cockily as he spun not one, but two massive discs of pizza dough, one on each index finger.

He tossed one up high into the air before catching it and starting it spinning on his fingertip again. Then he was using some sort of wizardry to send the dough half rolling, half flying across his shoulders as he swapped the other disc to his left hand, freeing up his right to catch the first saucer of dough just in time and keep it whirling, much to his coworker’s delight.

It was as he was giving one of the circular slabs of dough another toss up that he seemed to realize he’d gained a second audience member. His eyes shifted to meet mine and then widened as his whole body locked up. The disc still balanced on his finger spun off and toppled to the ground.

As for its airborne twin?

Splat!

Right on top of his head, covering his whole face.

A very unladylike snort escaped me, followed by a burst of long and uncontrollable laughter that I tried to smother behind my fingers. I was still laughing when he lifted the dough enough to peek one eye at me, expression unreadable as he slowly raised his other hand in a small twitch of a wave.

My giggling, along with my heart, abruptly stopped as I gasped, paled, squeaked and ducked down behind the counter.

...I’d laughed at him.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I’d laughed at him!

Heart thudding in my ears now, I stayed in a low crouch in my hiding spot, trembling hands gripping the edge of the countertop above me as my tongue dried to literal sandpaper.

Had he heard me laughing? Had he seen me laughing? What am I saying, of course he saw! That’s why he’d waved!

Oh dear lord, what did the wave mean? Was it an angry wave? An ‘I see you laughing at me, jerkface’ wave? A ‘How dare you mock me thusly’ wave? A ‘You have besmirched my honor, villain, now we must duel to the death’ wave? No, no, no, I didn’t know how to duel! What kind of duel would it even be? Pistols at dawn? I knew nothing about using a frigging pistol! Or any gun for that matter! I was dead! I was toast! I was-

Wait! No! Stop! Get a hold of yourself, woman! Gah, calm down and stop letting your imagination run wild with completely ridiculous notions!

I screwed my eyes shut, breathing in deep through my nose and holding it as I counted to ten before releasing.

It had probably just been a normal wave. A ‘Hello there, yes, I’m a dork who drops pizza dough on my head’ wave. He probably wasn’t mad, nor did he want to seek vengeance in blood. He was probably now just standing there, confused by the crazy weirdo who’d dived for cover behind her counter like she was in a war zone under enemy fire.

Alright. Time to pull myself back up. This was salvageable. Just stand and… I don’t know… wave back? Yeah, that sounded like a plan. Okay, you got this.

My legs tensed as I prepared to stand once more. In three… two…

What’d I’d failed to consider, as I’d be learning in two frightfully short seconds, was that there was another possibility. Another string of events that could have and, in fact, were set in motion the moment I’d dropped into hiding. That instead of just staying behind his own counter, the redhead had gotten curious about my odd reaction and had decided to take it upon himself to investigate. Therefore, he’d announced to his coworker that he was taking his ten, allowing him to leave his little pizzeria and cross the food court on a course heading straight for the ice cream shop directly across the way.

I have to wonder… and I mean really, really wonder… what were the odds?

The odds that he’d stop in front of the counter right across from where I was concealed.

The odds that he’d be leaning over it to look down at me exactly as I was springing back up to stand.

The odds that his lips were positioned just perfectly for my own to come crashing into his as I looked up.

That’s right.

I’d frigging kissed him.

...Hey, universe? It’s me, Elsa. If you’re listening, now would be a really great time for me to spontaneously develop the ability to rewind time by, say, I don’t know… thirty seconds so I can make completely different life choices.

...No? Not happening?

Well fudge.

Author's note: BEHOLD! There, at long last, having traded his spinning chakrams in for spinning pizzas, is our favorite Fire Boy! Or rather… there his lips are anyway… hehehe… xD Trust me, the fun is only beginning, you're in for one rollercoaster of a ride with this story!

So here we finally get the main setting for a majority of this story - what is basically the universe of KH transformed into a mall xP So many stupid little references will abound in the chapters to come, I'm sure you'll get sick of it! And I know Frozone/Incredibles isn't in KH, but that is a travesty which I had to correct by including him in this fic! I mean, c'mon, he's perfect for working at an ice cream shop alongside Elsa! As for Kristoff, I know he's normally a big ol' softie, but don't forget he had his whole tough guy routine when he first met Anna at the beginning of the movie! And as you can see, he's already starting to warm up to Elsa. And all the food court restaurants and faces (yes, even the cat) this chapter were KH/Disney references, some might be more obvious than others tho… but if any were too vague, Elsa will get to meet a lot of them in the chapters ahead so that should clear 'em all up! Oh, and ice cream flavor names! I'm not gonna miss an opportunity to steal all those ice creams from BBS, but come on, this was Sora, so OF COURSE I had to make up something that was Paopu flavored for him! I imagine the description of the Paopu Paradise flavor on the menu is something like: "Made with real Paopu fruit straight from Destiny Islands with little star sprinkles swirled in! Legend has it if two people share this ice cream, their destinies become intertwined."

In any case, on to the more pressing question… how will our lil ball of nerves Ice Queen handle this mortifying "greeting" with her new redheaded friend that she has yet to even learn the name of? Hope you stay tuned to find out in the next chapter! Thank you so much for reading!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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sciencelings-writes · 4 years

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The Golden Birdcage

A quick fic of my ocs in my fantasy au type of thing - This one features Rose and Adisa mainly but if there is any interest at all, I’ll write in more of my ocs

***

Rose dreaded the coming day, more than she dreaded any normal day. Today she cemented her place in the monarchy of the high fae. Before she was just a princess, an heiress, a disappointment. But today she was forced to step up to start taking power over the people she was destined to rule.

She was sure that she wasn’t the only one to dread it, she’d never really been popular among her people. She wasn’t born with a power that was seen as honorable or anything. While her mother could create massive crystalline spherical shields that protect the thousands of miles of their kingdom and her father could harness the power of their sun with powerful blasts of energy that could decimate armies, Rose could only heal. Sure, healing was an important and necessary power, but for a royal sunborn fairy? It was incredibly weak for the royal line, which was known to be the most powerful of the fae. There were rumors of her not being a true heir, being adopted, or a product of infidelity, but they were false, and there was no conceivable reason that she was born the way that she was.

For years she held her head up high and ignored those who looked at her like she was less than anyone else. She could not retaliate or express how she felt about it to anyone, not even her family. But it got so tiring. The only time she could rest was after she was dismissed for the day and could be herself alone in her room without any serving fae. She would take off her corset and release the tightest parts of her elaborate braids. She would let out the pent up emotions that she had been keeping inside all day, usually by writing which would be promptly burned with a candle or she would release her frustrations by sparring with a dummy. She always felt better with a sword in her hands.

But today would be worse than any of the days before. Not only would she not be alone for a single second, but it was one of the biggest days of her life and there was a lot of pressure on her. She had spent weeks preparing herself. Writing and memorizing a speech that she would have to recite in front of thousands of very important people, rehearsing the ceremony a dozen times with her mother pointing out a flaw every time. Sometimes it was something small like a hair out of place or a break in her facial expression, or a wrinkle in her dress, and sometimes it was detrimental like when she forgot a word or she stuttered causing her mother to yell at her. A stutter meant weakness and a mistake in words meant a lack of preparation, both of which were not a good sign in a new leader. Rose had always been sick of the perfection demanded of her.

Since the moment she woke up, she had been attended to with a handful of her servants focused on different parts of her appearance. Three doing her hair, two doing her makeup, and two more working with her clothes. She didn’t love being crowded at the best of times but this was definitely not comfortable for her in the slightest. She could barely breathe, her skin was covered in golden paints and powders, and the heeled shoes she had to wear everywhere was just the tip of the iceberg. She already deeply anticipated the end of the day when it would all be over and she would be free.

What made the day more bearable was that she was friendly with her servants. She wouldn’t call them friends but they respected each other and gossiped about anything that was going on in the palace. They were some of the only people who talked to her like she was a person and not a princess under the protection of the most powerful fae in the lands. They learned not to be afraid to joke around with her and be upfront with her as they were fully aware that she had no plans to punish them for not agreeing with her at every point. She knew that not all of them were on board with her becoming the queen but they still encouraged her and let her be at least slightly open about her feelings about things like food and music. She wouldn’t dare let their conversations stray close to topics she was more passionate about where she might let something more unsavory slip.

They arrived early in the morning when the shields were still dark. They were much more excited about the day than she was. Their excited chatter echoed throughout the pale stone halls enough to wake her several minutes before they even arrived. She relished her few moments alone before she was to be swarmed with familiar faces.

The handful of assorted fae scrambled in, a man adorned in indigo who was in charge of her dress and was the best at tying up her corset all nice and tight with barely enough room to breathe, a few older women in orange and violet respectively who would weave her hair like it was a decadent tapestry to place in the throne room to be showed off to prestigious guests, a young woman and a young man tasked with turning her face from pale and freckly to a work of art.

Rose was embarrassed to say that she didn’t know their names, not because she didn’t care to know but because she was just horrible at that kind of thing and had forgotten. Now after years of service, she was too afraid to ask. She remembered that the older women had grandchildren that worked in the kitchens and at the market and that one of them used to sing as the castle bard but pairing them with names was harder for Rose to remember. She was pretty sure that one of them was named Hesta but she could never remember which one it was.

“Good morning!” One of the elder fae sing-songed, “Today is the day!”

“It sure is isn’t it…” Rose said less than enthusiastically.

“Well now, don’t be nervous!” The serving fae collectively dragged her to get to work. She did her best to follow along and work with them but with all the chaos, she had a bit of trouble. Within seconds there were brushes passing through her orange and white hair and powder already being applied to her face. She rested her hands on the poles on both of her sides in anticipation for when the corset was to start its asphyxiating process.

“I’m not nervous…” She gained a few trivial stares when she said it, “Okay, yeah, I’m a little anxious this isn’t exactly a small thing.” She sighed.

“Of course, but you’ll do fine. You’ve prepared so much, I’d frankly be surprised if you managed to breathe at an imperfect moment.” The older fairy chuckled.

“Yeah, I know…” Rose took a couple of deep breaths, it didn’t help but it made her look more in control. She gripped the posts tightly and planted her feet on the ground as the white corset started to squeeze her organs. “It won’t all be bad, I guess I’m going to have to start to get used to being stared at.” She grunted at a particularly violent pull of the threads.

“You’ll do fine princess. You’re much stronger than they say that you are. Believe me.”

***

After several painstaking hours, Rose emerged for the pre-coordination ball in the ceremonial flowy iridescent white and gold gown. Her pearlescent pale segmented wings emerged from the openings in the white drapery that trailed behind her. She wore her small gold winged crown that would be replaced with a bigger more elaborate one during the ceremony. Her hair was braided tightly in a beautiful if a little painful bun style with ribbons coming from a flowery hairpiece made of pink and gold lilies and full white roses. Her makeup was filled with warm pinks with gold details framing a golden sun painted on her forehead. Her pointed ears were adorned with gold earrings linked with chains and dangling white opals.

She had to admit, the look was impressive. She looked like a celestial sun goddess and it made her feel better from how painful it was to achieve. She fluttered through the air to the dark chamber for the hour of meditation before the first ball. She was only left alone to wait for a few seconds before a voice broke through along with the sudden sounds of muffled crowds from the nearby rooms as the door opened and closed.

“You’re slouching.” Roses mother announced from behind her.

“I don’t think it’s possible to do so your highness. This corset feels like it’s made of steel and melded to my body.” She said bluntly.

“Your posture includes your neck darling.” The red-haired queen of the sun fae walked around her daughter as if she was inspecting her for a single piece of lint.

“If I had my neck any more vertical I wouldn’t be able to see the floor.” She sighed. When her mother looked satisfied she placed herself in front of her.

“You look…” Rose waited for her mother to nitpick something, saying that she looked like a golden pig or a crane in a dress. “Like a queen.” Rose raised her eyebrows in shock. That was probably the most positive thing she had said in weeks.

“Don’t mess up your makeup!” Her mother demanded, back to her old attitude again, nothing good could last for very long apparently.

“I could sit through a hurricane and my makeup wouldn’t even smear.”

“It’s almost time. I have guests to attend to, do not be caught off-guard.” Her mother demanded, “We have practiced this a hundred times, you would have to be an idiot to get something wrong.” Rose tried not to feel hurt from the comment.

“Thanks.” She grumbled.

“Do not miss your cue!”

“How would I miss it, Someone literally yells my name.”

“I’m sure you’d find a way.” And with that, her mother traded places with a guard in golden armor.

Rose closed her eyes to start the hour of meditation. Others in her place have claimed to see visions or deceased members of the royal family or even the sun herself. For the first half-hour, she just saw the back of her eyelids. Pure darkness. She had to let her mind wander or she would fall asleep or worse, get bored. She focused on the warmth of her magic through her veins, it was the warmest at her palms, like she was holding hands with someone. The comforting warmth combated the unnatural darkness around her.

After an eternity of all-encompassing silence, she heard a voice. It was quiet but in the impossibly silent room, it was as clear as day.

“You’re being wasted here.” the voice was deep and female. Blunt, like she was stating a fact. “They can’t help you. This place is killing you.”

Rose wanted to answer out loud but she knew the voice was in her head and she was acutely aware that she wasn’t alone in the room. She didn’t expect the things she would hear in there to be so… real.

“She’s suffocating you. You were meant to be free.”

‘I want to be free.’ Rose tried to manifest the pure yearning through her thoughts to whoever was speaking to her.

“You will be freed. Are you willing to pay the price?”

‘I’m going to be free if I have to do it myself. I’m sick of not having any control over my own life! I don’t care about your price.’ Anger started to bubble in her chest, the normal heat generated from her powers was amplified by the years and years of rage that had built up.

“I like you, princess,” The voice chuckled, “I feel like you’re going to be a great ally.”

Rose heard something beyond the voice, like in the world outside of her mind. She opened her eyes and the dark room was no longer dark in the slightest. Glowing gold and pink clouds swirled around her and she emitted a golden light from her skin and eyes. The guard was huddled in the corner with his eyes wide. He looked afraid. For some reason, this gave Rose a powerful sense of euphoria.

Unfortunately, as soon as she had realized her power around her, it started to regress. The swirling clouds started to slow and her skin started to fade. Not before the door opened though. The chamber’s main door opened to the ballroom, filled with every important fae in the Dawn and Dusk kingdoms. They all saw the thick clouds exit the room as she did and even more bazaar, she was smiling. Not like the polite smile she had practiced all her life but one of true genuine delight. Even her mother was staring.

Rose walked out of the dark room and to the balcony for all to see. The room was quiet. The music had stopped playing. Not out of respect but out of shock. After a long enough moment, someone very familiar spoke. The voice front the dark chamber.

“Now that was quite the entrance, Princess.” A fairy approached from the crowd dressed in black and green wearing a white mask that featured a long beak.

“What’s the meaning of this?” Rose's mother announced as she stood up from her golden throne.

“Don’t interrupt your majesty.” The strange fae spat. “I’m sure you’ll want to hear me out.” The queen managed to control herself and she sat back down. The dark room fairy waved her hand which caused a green intricate witches circle to appear at her feet and dark black clouds to swirl around it. Gasps erupted from the room. This wasn’t a fairy at all. A witch had snuck into one of the most important fae places. The natural enemies of the fairies were the magic folk and one had managed to slip into a major fae event.

The witch’s dark thunder clouds expanded throughout the massive room and her glamour faded. Her green butterfly wings turned into huge black feathered wings. Her curly brown hair cascaded off of her shoulders from their hiding spot and a black cloak waterfalled from her shoulders. A black staff topped in a birdlike skull appeared in her hands. Rose thought that she was so incredibly beautiful in the most unorthodox way.

“Relax relax,” The witch bellowed. “I’ve come bearing a gift for the princess. Better than any gift the fae could hope to offer her.” She disappeared in black smoke and appeared right next to Rose. But she wasn’t afraid in the slightest. Both the king and the queen stood abruptly at this action.

“I have a purpose for you. The lost Fae Princess needs to be found, and who better to find her than her sister! The caged bird will be trapped no longer.” The witch grinned. “Oh, and if you refuse-” she pointed her staff at the king and queen and they were covered in smoke. Once the smoke lifted it looked like nothing had changed but by the look on the monarch’s faces, something certainly had. “Your kingdom will remain unguarded and unprotected by the most powerful among you.” Surely enough, when Rose looked out the glass windows, the crystalline shielding around the palace was gone, without the shields, there was no night and day. Only the eternal light of the sun blazing onto the lands. “I’m sure my kind would be enthused to know of your newfound vulnerability.”

Rose stayed silent. She wasn’t afraid of the witch, she had been taught that the magic folk were wicked and scheming. But though the appearance of this witch was sinister and destructive, she was giving Rose exactly what she wanted under the guise of it being to lift a curse. She wasn’t just giving Rose a way out, but also a purpose, a quest, an adventure, a sister? Rose had only heard rumors of a lost princess but she thought they were just that, rumors. Like she was not her father's daughter despite having his white hair woven through the red she had inherited from her mother.

“You won’t even be alone on your journey. For a price, I will give you an object that summons me whenever you need me. I am nothing if not giving.”

“What kind of price?” Rose raised her eyebrow, speaking for the first time since the witch appeared.

“A small price for my help. All I ask for is a kiss.” The witch smirked, as if she didn’t expect Rose to take up the offer. The crowd had gasped, a kiss from a witch was said to be cursed. It was like signing a contract with the devil. But Rose didn’t need the promise of help from the woman, she would’ve kissed her anyway for freeing her.

“Deal.” The witch looked a little surprised but she laughed as all the onlookers looked horrified. Rose however was not remorseful in the slightest. The sooner she could leave her mother's presence, the better. Rose knew the corrupt nature of the fae more than anyone and she was sure that they wouldn’t even miss her.

“Wonderful. Now, you can’t go on a quest looking like that!” The witch spoke directly to her instead of projecting to fill the whole room. She gently lifted Rose’s chin with a dark claw-like finger and their lips met.

Around her, the decadent white gown started to get covered in smoke and changing dramatically. Rose felt the corset loosen and the skirt tighten and wrap around her legs to form pants. The smoke rose to her hair where the tight braids fell around her shoulders and unwove into freshly curled locks. She felt weight on her back of her small assortment of weapons that were forged by the fire giants for sunborn royalty. A sword with a golden hilt adorned with a triple set of feathered wings, a matching bow and a quiver full of arrows and a golden dagger to finish the set. Her heels were replaced with practical laced up boots that were a hundred times more comfortable. Even her makeup was affected. The layers and layers of powders and paints lifting in an instant leaving only the flaked remains of the sun imagery on her forehead and her golden lips.

Throughout her transformation, her lips were still firmly planted on the witches. She probably lingered for too long as the kiss made her heart flutter and she tried her best to preserve the feeling.

They parted, and the witch held out a dark metal object. A razor sharp knife with the imagery of a white bird skull carved to it’s hilt.

“Point it to the sky and say my name and I will come to you.” The witch assured.

“What is your name?” Rose took the knife and examined it before looking upwards at the witch.

“Adisa. Adisa Crow.”

#This is basically a first draft of a few scenes in my original series that im working on #at least the fantasy one #Rosalia Scarlett Dawn #Adisa Crow #Doctor Plague #my ocs #my writing #original writing #original content #original character #original characters #oc #ocs

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lastweekseyeliner · 5 years

Text

Best of Inhuman Izuku

its ya gal sunny back at it again with the fic recs

the fics on this list are some personal favorites. some are horror, some are fluff, all are about izuku being something more than human. do note that he won’t be literally inhuman in all of these.

list under the cut.

Izuku is (Afraid)

Rated M, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Words:40998|Chapters:14|Complete

This is the first in a series of fics that start out quite vague and then move into the heavy action. Thoroughly enjoyable thriller.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11497428/chapters/25793157

To Not Be Bound

Rated T, todobakudeku

Words:11756|Chapters:4|Complete

A fantasy AU in a world where the gods walk among men.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13988556/chapters/32208753

Eldritch

Rated T, no pairings as of yet

Izuku's body contains the void.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13982853/chapters/32194113

And In His Eyes, a Galaxy

Rated M, Inko/Hisashi

Words: 88721|Chapters: 21|ongoing

Izuku's quirk allows him to act as a forge, and his passion turns to support work. A light and enjoyable read with interesting concepts.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12313668/chapters/27993882

The Dark Below

Rated M, Warnings for Graphic Depictions of Violence, creator chose not to use other archive warnings

Words:392453|Chapters: 48/75

Izuku's quirk allows him to return from death, but that's really just the tip of the iceberg. The tiny, tiny, miniscule tip of the iceberg. This fic really goes off the rocket into completely original worldbuilding. It's worth reading for the imagery alone, although it does get a bit repetitive by the time you get to the newer chapters. Includes bonus moral reasoning, information warfare, and political manuveuring.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14572500/chapters/33674223

Daymare

Rated M, Warning for Graphic Depiction of Violence

Words:262157|Chapters:56|Ongoing

Probably everyone knows this one by now, but basically Izuku can turn into a horrific monster. The problem is he can't control said monster. I just think monsters are neat.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/11277075/chapters/25222215

DNA That Binds

Rated M, Warning for Graphic Depictions of Violence

Words:38192|Chapters:12|Ongoing

Inko has hidden her quirk from the world for a long time, and now that she's found a child with a similar one, she'll hide him too. An absolutely fascinating quirk and dive into its possible applications.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/17512769/chapters/41254289

I'm Friends with the Monster in my Closet

Rated M, bakudeku, Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings

Words:46477|Chapters:13|Ongoing

Katsuki grows up with a strange friend who only gets stranger. Slow horror, psychological thriller. Can be extremely graphic.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/12707958/chapters/28980039

Leviathan

Rated M, Graphic Depictions of Violence

Words:128756|Chapters:17|Ongoing

Another classic that everyone knows. After a lethal incident in his childhood, Izuku struggles to hide his monstrous quirk at UA. Excellent OCs.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13216827/chapters/30232824

olly olly oxenfree

Rated M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, tododeku

Words:21616|Chapters:5|Abandoned

This fic plaigiarized an original comic by an artist on tumblr that I could probably find with some time, but won't bother with for now. After the first couple hundred words it becomes original, although the concept is still the same. Izuku's quirk means that nobody can look at him. Detective Tsukauchi gives him a home.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16016906/chapters/37377164

oyasumi midoriya

Rated T, Graphic Depictions of Violence, Major Character Death

Words:64367|Chapters:52|Ongoing

The author claims inspiration from Serial Experiments Lain, and those who've watched it will immediately understand what that means. It's a confusing ride, but absolutely fascinating. Mind the warnings on this one.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/16237514/chapters/37958840

Persephone

Rated T, bakudeku

Words:70788|Chapters:7|Complete

Katsuki grows up knowing there's a boy next door he never sees. Izuku's quirk is plant-based. Extremely fluffy. Floss with care.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15159776/chapters/35156666

What I Am

Rated M, Graphic Depictions of Violence, kirideku

Words:40660|Chapters:3|Likely Abandoned

Izuku might not have any human friends, but he has plenty of shadows. Interesting characterization and compelling descriptions.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/14401665/chapters/33258333

when dead do walk, seek water's run

Rated T, bakudeku, todomomo

Words:8086|Chapters:6|Likely Abandoned

Okay, I'm hitting a niche with this one, but it's an Abhorsen AU and I love it so, so much. I would kill for more. I would raise the victim from the dead and then kill them again for more.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/15373695/chapters/35675283

OKAY AND THE FINALE.... THE SINGLE BEST PIECE OF HORROR IN THE BNHA FANDOM........

Never-living, Never-dead

Rated T

Words:7248|Chapters:1|Complete

This is best read blind.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/13938750

feel free to message me with fics you’d like to see included or reviewed more in-depth!

#bnha #mha #boku no hero academia #my hero academia #blurb

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soldierwatch · 6 years

Note

ツ : An OC you created that you are proud of?

ஃ ➡ mun questions. // @lordamulu

oh no here we go !!amulu you asked the WORST ( best ) question.

this is a long post.

SO it’s not so much as a single MUSE, as a cyberpunk dystopian CITY filled w/ OCs i shamelessly adore—but of course, there is one trash boy i love above all others.

lemme tell you about dox & his home—

i’ve worldbuilt this place called the UNDERCITY.

it’s, as the name suggests, the SHIT-END of a city—a futuristic city ( in the middle of a desert ) that’s built INTO the ground - one-hundred levels, split into three parts : the UPPER-LEVELS :

it’s where the RICH & FAMOUS live—levels 100 through 87, each level receiving SUNLIGHT & FRESH AIR ;

the MIDDLE-LEVELS ( med-lev for short ) :

86 through 53 ; the level you live on dictates your SOCIAL-STATUS.

& then finally, the Lower-levels ; the Undercity :

levels 52-21 ( the remaining levels down to zero uninhabitable, UNCOMPLETED in construction, as it’s too close to the radioactive isotopes of the earth ). citizens can travel between the Upper & Middle levels freely, but the Undercity is completely BLOCKED OFF—there’s a massive barrier in place locking the people in there ; it USED to be an open area, but the Administrators of the city soon found the denizens of the UC - referred to as Slumrats ( originally an insult, but the people adopted it as their official epithet ) - were too DANGEROUS to be allowed freedom.

SEE, there’s this man down there named 5liip.

he’s the leader of the #1 gang down in the Undercity, {Black Bracket}. though the UC is chaotic as all-hell, deemed UNCONTROLLABLE, this man is essentially the KING.

( there are HUNDREDS of gangs running amok down there, with the top four being {BB}, followed by 7R0U8L3, then poisyn, & finally Carnival, all specializing in different consumer content to get ahead & earn their status. )

5liip is a MANIPULATIVE sonuvabitch, & DAMN he does it WELL—he corralled the UNCONTROLLABLE slumrats of the UC and kick-started an UPRISING that cost him his wife. the undercity had originally been levels 40-21, but with 5liip’s lead they STOLE twelve whole levels.

( his second-in-command is named Lobster, & I love him. he originally went by ‘Mobster’ until he dyed his hair red & everyone in the gang started calling him ‘Lobster.’ he speaks entirely in Leet, & I will explain everything in these parentheses : )

i’ve Of Course created gang leaders & their SiCs, but I’ve gone further and developed dialects for a language spoken - LEET. there’s three forms of it in the city : SPEAKING it, SIGNING it, & WRITING it. to SPEAK it is to essentially list your numbers to their corresponding numbers, ‘H-three-Y four-M-U-L-U’ ; signing it is just applying sign language instead of SPEAKING ; & writing, is, 0F C0UR53, JU57 7H3 7YP3D F0RM.

i’ve developed SLANG for Leet & it’s three forms ( 17 is both an INSULT & a CURSE, synonymous to both shit or bitch depending on context ), there are even MORE curses & insults peppered in common language ( grimesucker, gutterhead—i’ve created DRINKS & DRUGS, & most importantly the TECH known as ONLINE DRIVES.

At birth everyone receives an incision in their left arm into which is planted their own unique Online Drive. It’s a thin plate accompanied with a USB, a card, and a code. The USB can be entered into most home systems for accessing the Online Store - which is just the hub of things you can purchase with your drive ( movies, clothes, music ), you can play games, enter chat-rooms ( you can even purchase cell-like devices, enter your OD code, and it basically works as a cellphone )—it’s basically the internet. The card is how you pay for things OUTSIDE the Online Store - just physical shopping n’ such, like a debit card - all your Counts ( the city’s currency ) are stored on your Online Drive account. —the code is just your unique number - sort of like your SSN, but used frequently and all over the place if you’re unable to use your USB / card.

bUT SO— when the chip is implanted it sends out a surge of nano-bots that travel throughout the body to reach specific destinations and make homes.

The ‘infection’ of nanobots and the signals they send out affect the entire body - it’s how, when you purchase Hue Alterations on the Online Store, the changes IMMEDIATELY install. For example, dying your hair. With just a SWIPE across a holo-screen you could change your hair color from red to blue. Those nanobots get into every aspect of your genetic make-up and affect it how you want. …But body modifications are EXPENSIVE, especially inflated if you take the Online Drive route instead of making these changes yourself - hair dye, tattoos, certain physical procedures.

NOW LET ME CONTINUE & ADD,

There are THOUSANDS of people in the city that have powers, which is not a lot compared to how many people live there OVERALL— people aren’t BORN with the magic, just the POTENTIAL to GAIN it— it all depends on their genetic make-up, and how the Online Drives merge with them.

It’s RARE, but the signals the nanobots send out have reported cases of TRIGGERING certain genes, applying unique magical abilities that the Resident can take advantage of, assuming the activated power is something that can be CONTROLLED.

Every ability is UNIQUE, no repeated case having yet been recorded.

—as can be read in an excerpt stolen from my blog,you can see there are people with POWERS in the city - that brings us to DOX.

dawson cox, though ( you may have picked up on this ) NO ONE in the Undercity goes by their REAL name ; when you live in a TRASH-HEAP where ANYTHING can be stolen from you, your TRUE IDENTITY is the ONE THING you get to keep for yourself ( & sharing it with someone is a MONUMENTAL show of TRUST ).

SO DAWSON COX goes by the alias ‘Dox,’ & he was granted HEALING powers through his Online Drive—something for which he HATED in the beginning, viewing such ability as something ‘effeminate’ ( as a child, he’d wished he’d gotten something cooler like FIRE MANIPULATION, as Lobster has )—BECAUSE of his healing abilities he was picked off the street as a slumbrat ( obviously, what they call the children of the Undercity ) & taken in to live with a Mechmender known as Kejja ( a GOOD THING, really, since it’s extremely RARE for parents to keep their children, & most slumbrats don’t have homes—not that there are harsh weather conditions to worry about, considering the Undercity is basically a massive PRISON ).

Kejja had abused Dox’s abilities, abused Dox, until finally one day Dox just killed the dud & took over his engineering shop, turning it into a small little CLINIC where he traded MIRACLES for FAVORS ( or Counts, being the city’s currency ).

Dox mostly shelters the slumbrats, letting them cycle in & out of his home when they need it, knowing the streets can be DANGEROUS & kids can be STUPID.

in return, the slumbrats bring him back INFORMATION, given the kids of the city make REALLY GOOD spies—& down there, INFORMATION is valuable above ALL ELSE.

dox is SASSY & MEAN but goddamn he’s a FIGHTER ; stubborn & rude,but loyal as HELL to people who prove themselves WORTHY.i love my trash son.

uh.

i just blanked.

i don’t know what else to say from here—

LOOK, just—

this is the tip of the iceberg. all the information about this character & the city & all the OTHER characters can be read on the blog, GRIMESUCKER —

i have a lot of love for this place. thank you for asking this question. ♥

#amulu i didn't know how to NOT ramble. ;;#there's literally So Much Time & Effort & Love i've poured into this city. ;;#if you have the patience to read it all i will love you endlessly. ;;#more-so than i already do. ;;#lordamulu #ஃ ➡ ᵍᵉᵗ ᵗʰᵉˢᵉ ʲᵒᵏᵉʳˢ ᵒᶠᶠ ᵐʸ ᵖᵒᶤᶰᵗ ( answers )

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whatif-animagineblog · 6 years

Photo

Summary: Casey Forman lives a fairly normal life in Gotham. Making her way the best she knows. That’s when she get’s an offer from a certain green suited genius gives her an offer and she slips further down into the Gotham Underground then she ever imagined she could go.

Warnings: The normal foul language you have come to know

Pairing: It’s a slow burn I’m sure you can figure it out.

A/N: This is a change of pace for me. I know I’m known for Star Trek on here but this is my original fandom that I still love dearly. This is the first part of a series I’m starting, staring my OC Casey Foreman. I hope you enjoy.

Words: 1029

Gotham was rough. Everyone knew that. It didn’t matter if you lived in Metropolis or all the was in National City, everyone knew Gotham was one of the worst places to live. Yet people stayed because it was home. At least that’s how Casey Foreman felt, she grew up in the Narrows of Gotham City, she knew how to play the game. So he had no problem taking her place in a little club called Cobalt. Ask no questions, get no answers joint. Mostly, the richer end of the crowd, kids avoiding their parents, adults avoiding their spouses, and just folks getting away. Though it was not uncommon to see some criminal elements, mostly some mid-level thugs that worked for the Falcone’s or Penguin or maybe even Dent’s crowd. But sometimes even those of the super-villainous variety would waltz in. None made a regular appearance, until recently when an Edward Nygma has been there almost every Friday night for the past few months. It’s hard to miss, dumbass walking around in that obnoxious green suit, just begging for attention.

Casey made sure to avoid him whenever she worked, he was far too smart. She needed gullible fools for her side business she cultivated in the club. Either stealing credit card numbers and fencing them or simply scamming drunk assholes who were a sucker for tears. He could ruin her.

She would pull the used bottles from the trash, fill them with water. She would carry across the room and trip. Then waterworks. All about how she needs to support her baby and that the price of the liquor will be taken out of her paycheck, and if her boss finds out she’ll be fired. Oh, it did the trick, with the cards and the broken bottles she was raking in about an extra 600 a week, maybe every other week.

And tonight was not any different. Casey moved effortlessly through the club, then she tripped, making sure the bottle broke. “No! Oh no!”

Some of the men stood up and looked from the broken glass to her. “Hey, hey, it’s okay,” one of them started as Casey burst into tears.

“No, it’s not! M-My boss, he’s going to get so mad! He’s gonna take it out of my paycheck. He might fire me! I-I can’t lose this job! I have a little baby at home! I-I,” Casey started blubbering intelligible nonsense.

“Hey,” the first man said looking over to his buddies. “We’ll help cover it.” He dug out his wallet fishing out a few bills, the other men did the same grumbling some.

“Thank you! Thank you so much,” She gushed as she took the bills. As she turned she ran into a solid body. “Oh, I’m so sorry,” as she looked up she met eyes with the Riddler. He was there in a black button down, a purple tie and a green vest with matching green pants. Casey froze, her tears instantly drying and her blood running cold. He just smirked and opened his wallet, never breaking eye contact and pulled out a few bills.

“You should be more careful,” His cool voice spoke before handing over the money, winking and walking off.

“Shit,” She looked down at her hands and those few bills were hundreds. “Shit.”

At the end of her shift, Casey left through the back door, as she walked she heard footsteps. She whirled around and pulled out her pug-nose gun and aimed. The figure stopped and raised his hands, a cane dangling off the crook of his elbow. “Now, now, is that any way to thank someone who tipped you as well as I did.”

Casey dropped her gun to the side, “Son of a bitch. What do you want?”

The Riddler stepped closer coming into the light in his full suit, bowler hat, the whole thing. “Honestly, Casey, did you not know?”

“And you know my name,” she groaned as he stepped even closer so both of them were in the light. “So, Riddler, you have been watching me.”

“Please, call me Edward. And yes, a few months ago I came over to Cobalt, Oz and I were in a bit of a squabble, so the Iceberg Lounge, my usual spot was a no go. I was not impressed. Then I saw you,” He leaned in over his cane, more into her space. Emphasising the good foot of height he had over the small woman. “ It’s hard to hide things from me, my dear. But that little con of yours, brilliant.”

Casey sighed and folded her arms, there was no sense defending herself. “I guess I should take that as a compliment.”

“Of the highest regard. It’s hard to impress me.”

“Did you come here just to stroke my ego or?”

He laughed, “Right to the chase, aren’t we? I’m here to make you an offer. Work for me as an informant.”

“An Informant?”

“So, that means sticking my neck out on the line to get you information?”

“Not exactly, because of your skills, I’ll plant you were I need you. Perhaps as Mayor Hill’s new secretary? I don’t exactly have that many women on the payroll and you seem perfect.”

“And the pay?”

“Well you are getting paid by the mayor, and I’ll give you a bit of a stipend say...1000 every two weeks and for everything you bring me will be an extra amount depending on how good it is.”

Casey watched him for a minute, searching his face. Finally locking her blue eyes with his green. “What about protection if things go pear-shaped?”

“If you do as well as I think you will you won’t need it.”

With that Casey stuck her hand out to him, “Okay. Deal.”

He took her hand firmly shaking it a few times “Deal,” he chirped. Before pulling her close, his mouth next to her ear, “I also know who your fence is for the credit cards. Don’t disappoint me.” With that he pulled away and carried on down the alley, whistling. Casey looked down at her hand and found a slip of paper that read: Dock 9, Warehouse B, 6:30 am.

“Shit.”

TAGS: Join the tag team for this!

#edward nygma #The Riddler #Edward Nygma/OC #Edward Nygma / OC #The Riddler/OC #The Riddler / OC #Edward NygmaxOC #Edward Nygma x OC #The RiddlerxOC #The Riddler x OC #OC #WhatIf? - Imagines #whatif-animagineblog

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beautifulramblingbrains · 7 years

Text

Woke

Pairing: Eric/OC Fandom: Divergent / Insurgent Rating: M - Frequent bad language and sensitive subjects.

In the middle of corruption, our Leader deviates through a twisted world - and mind. Can he save himself? Does he want to be saved? He isn’t playing a heroes game. But something might just grow on him.

A/N: It’s been a while since I posted something. Apologies. Have this mammoth chapter as my offering.

Tags: @2toastersbang @singingpeople @pathybo @equalstrashflavoredtrash @clublulu333 @jojuarez26 @tigpooh67 @murmelinchen @vitaevandal @lilu46 @mom2reesie @frecklefaceb (If I have forgotten anyone please message me.)

Waking up is one of the things I dread the most.

Everything is more painful, and the mind tends to linger in the land of regret; regret about every possible god damn thing. If I let it wander too long, there would be only dust between my hand and the gun in the holster beside my bed. I could reach down, put it into my mouth - so the last thing I taste is my own misery - and pull the trigger. But I don’t. I never do.

The air lingers with the mixed smell of smoke and alcohol. Even in my bedroom, while I find it hard to rub the sleep from my face, pushing deep into my eyes, the heaviness of expectations weighs like lead on my shoulders. I’d passed out with my uniform still intact, a normal routine that could be classed as almost a habit by now.

Questioning at what point did my life take such a turn is pointless and I ignore it - a dry mouth and a foggy head tend to do that.

I’m not alone in my bed. Being slightly aware of the silhouette under the covers, I see my flies laying low. Though, I’m not too bothered. I’d be surprised if I even got it up as a bottle of whiskey currently curdles my stomach.

I step over the devastation - a bottle, a shirt, which is not mine, papers with a list of names. Heading for the door, I peer out to the living area. It’s as I expected, both couches occupied. My mate, Jimmy, is down on the floor with a jacket under his head for a pillow. It looks harmless; they all look harmless, and I wonder how men like this change for the sake of advantage and points.

We don’t have to do what we do, but we do it anyway. And there is no chance of backing out. Frank made sure of that. I’m hitting twenty-seven, but to youngsters like this, a promise of good times, no struggle, and women are irresistible.

And that’s what all of this is, right? A good time? - That’s life. That’s how it should be.

Wrong.

It’s wrong when your priorities change for the sake of a faux brotherhood. When the only way out is at the hands of Frank. When the motto isn’t faction before blood, but us before them.

In my haze I make it to the bathroom and rub a speck of dried blood from my cheek in the bathroom mirror, feeling like I could retch at any minute. It’s not my blood. I didn’t shoot them. But I may as well have, as, like the others, I took a step back and let Frank deal the final blows with a hungry, crazed look on his face until the man’s head was nothing but pulp and his wife’s screams blew my eardrums.

“Sick motherfucker,” Jimmy, our newest and youngest member, had whispered to me. He was white as a sheet, jaw swinging, praying to some God that he doesn’t get sent straight to Hell for all the bad things he's done.

All I could think in that moment was that this was all over antibiotics and few measly points that weren’t coughed up in time. But the man’s name was on the list, and if their name is on the list, then they’re already dead.

And while I’m being honest with myself, if they’re on the list - if Frank doesn’t do it - I will. That, admittedly, is becoming hard. Especially as I try to face myself in the mirror.

Shrugging off my jacket and stripping off the musty shirt that smells like yesterday’s mistakes, I’m interrupted. “Yo, Eric.” It’s Heath and I barely acknowledge him, turning on the tap and putting my head under the water. He looks like death himself, and if I was in a better state of mind I would almost believe he had come to collect me. “You got anything to eat?” The water feels glorious and I rinse my mouth out.

“Go to your own damn place and eat,” I grumble, flipping him off.

He shrugs off from the doorframe. “Fuck you, man.”

“You’re not my type.” The water drips down onto my chest, the coldness reminding me that I’m still alive for one more wretched day. I catch a glimpse of a result from my own stupidity - a pink jagged line and rub my shoulder, the everlasting result from a break in my collarbone that leaves me with a persistent ache and a bad temper.

I open the mirror, for inside is an array of shelves and my painkillers; the beginning of my lifetime agreement to abide by the rules - and to the list.

Every morning is a briefing that requires me, Frank, Max and a few others who invest their time in training and running Dauntless. And every morning it’s the same loathsome shambles as it was the day before. I enter the room and every head turns to see me. Somehow, I’ve managed to fake normality, a shower fixing most of my woes, the smell no longer stuck to me.

“Well, if it ain’t the boy.” Frank’s sitting with a specific smile planted on his face, slack back in a chair on my left facing towards everyone else. He manages to pull off the burden of our lives without a single trace of evidence from the night before. It’s almost inhuman. With his jet black hair slicked back, his long trademark trench coat still on, I could beat him off his chair. “And he looks mighty beautiful, don’t he guys?” He laughs a laugh I sometimes hear in my dreams.

Max is never impressed with him, and he’s not afraid to show it; his jaw tense, boring holes into him from across the room. “Let’s just get this done, shall we? I don’t want to have to explain to a class that their Leaders were testing each other for points on flattery before breakfast.”

“It’s always a pleasure with you.” Frank gyrates in his chair, motioning for him to continue with a long exaggerated sweep of his hand. I take a seat next to him and rub my shoulder. I’m not in the mood for fighting words, not yet.

��We have a few days left on the batch of initiates we’ve had for the last six weeks. We keep the pressure on regardless of what we already know about who’s passing and who ain’t.” Max gets up and walks over to a whiteboard that has names on that I don’t even recognize. But it’s all the same shit. We’ve done this a million times. I’ve done this since I became a Leader and Frank way before me. “These names are who is passing, split into groups into what section will be given to them after the ceremony…” Max’s voice drones on as Frank hits my leg.

“Make sure this afternoon is clear,” he speaks in a whisper. My eyes would be the only give away that I’m listening while Frank sniffs and leans on his legs, hunched over. “I got a list. And there are a few initial warnings for our little scandalous debtors.”

I look to Max again only briefly, kind of jealous that he isn’t involved in anything we do. “Who’s to go?”

Frank’s eyes are as dark as his hair, his teeth blindingly white when he chuckles. “You, me, Jimmy, Heath, Leroy-”

I sigh in exasperation, Leroy is my least favorite person. We don’t read the same lines from the same page, and he licks Frank’s ass, ready to attack anyone that doesn’t take the same viewpoint as them. The thing is, I see different to Frank all the time, and I’m not afraid to say so. What annoys me most though, is that Leroy will be whispering treacherous things afterward - some of which Frank laughs off with me like it’s all fun and games. But I don’t like people who talk shit like a little bitch while my backs turned. He’s not in my click, and it’s safe to say I don’t trust him as far as I could throw him.

“Leroy can stay in the car.” I bite back to stop myself from further insulting him, or wasting my air.

“Come on, man.” Frank taps my leg. I don’t like being touched in the mornings, my frown almost painful. “He’s just learning the ways of our brotherhood. Look, he’s been good to me so far. I trust him.”

“I don’t.”

“Who do you trust? That’s a pretty hard fucking question,” he scoffs, but it’s heavy.

Crossing my arms over my chest, I lean back. “If he stays out of my way, we aren’t going to have a problem. But he makes it perfectly clear he likes to step on my toes.”

I was just about to reminisce about the last person who did such a thing but Frank beats me to it. “Shit. Just don’t go all fucking terminator on him like the last one. That was messy to clean up.”

“You’re one to talk,” I smirk over my shoulder, just as Frank fakes his arm as robotic and grabs his throat, pretending to throttle himself, the letters spelling HATE across his fingers prominently showing on that hand.

He laughs too loudly, reaching into his pocket and pulls out a cigarette, lighting it carelessly. It’s only after he’s done it that he looks up to the others in the room staring at him, a burning of hatred flashing across Max’s face. “Can you not smoke in the boardroom?” Max asks into the silence.

Frank takes a long drag and lets the smoke billow out in curls before he replies, “We do this every damn morning. Everyone knows what they are doing.” Max doesn’t let it go by continuing to glare, and I keep myself expressionless. There’s a tip of the iceberg between these two and what lies beneath isn’t going to be pretty once it melts. “Excuse me.” Frank drops the cigarette on the floor and stubs it out with his boot. “I thought this was a room full of Leaders, not the granny knitting patrol discussing who’s going to pick up the next grandpa. Why don’t you cut us a little slack and let us just get on for the day?”

Max has puffed up to twice the size and I know some murderous thoughts wander through his mind. I’d be a fool to think Frank doesn’t see it too. “Maybe you should be standing up here instead?”

“Jeez, I’m flattered. And I’d like that. But unfortunately, you are still alive.” Frank smiles. “But you know, since we’re all rather tired, I’m just going to be the first and exit this shit show. You call me if you need me now.” Frank stands up and dusts his pants off. “Eric?”

For the sake of Max being my trainer, I hesitate. But I know I’ve got things to do. “I’ll watch my emails,” I say, standing up and following Frank out the door. Beyond it, our small group waits, and Frank makes a display of greeting each of them enthusiastically. I nod to Leroy without a word, and Jimmy comes to stand beside me.

“That man in there is a dead man!” Frank announces. He walks ahead, turning every now and then, trench coat flapping behind him. “I’ll see to it.”

“Thanks for letting me crash at your place,” Jimmy says to me over Frank still swearing revenge.

“You crashed on the floor, don’t thank me for nothing.” The boy’s still new to it all and I can’t blame him for remembering something his mother taught him. “Jim, you stick with me later.”

“Sure.”

There’s nothing to him, he’s not built like us. I don’t know why Frank has allowed him into the circle and I’m highly suspicious. I should trust this group, I should. But I’m smart, and it’s only a matter of time until someone clashes with the other or one wants out. I have a feeling Jimmy is going to be asking to leave as quickly as he came. And I think Frank knows it too.

Leroy turns back and looks at Jimmy, and I don’t like it. He’s unafraid to meet my eye, and just by staring straight back at him, I let him know that I’m watching him.

My class is ready. They are trained. They fight orderly. No one gives up until they give in. The women are as good as the men, and I don’t have to do as much work as I did before. Most of the time I linger back, pacing, and judge for the sake of fights that only break out in anger - which most of them don’t anymore, they are beyond that. This is my individual class that has got me on the relatively good side of Max beyond the irritation that Frank gives him. I’m still respectful because he was my trainer, but I outgrew him years ago.

And between those multiple discrepancies, it keeps anyone off my back and free to do pretty much as I please. I drew a fine line under my class management years ago, using different techniques for punishment rather than the infamously rumored ‘dangle over the chasm’. I was young, the same time that I fell into Frank’s group after my injury had healed, which I earned trying to fight drunk at the bar.

But reality is still hard. Years of self-inflicted abuse fuck with my mind. I could be watching my initiates train and my brain would freeze frame in jumpy pictures and disassociate as I stood there. It was like a train, pummeling from in the distance. I could sense it coming - for a long time before it arrives.

It gives me a bad case of the shakes. And it reaches far into lunchtime where it peaks. I take a seat on one of the many tables, clenching and unclenching my fists, anxious of the crowds pouring in, the voices too loud, my knee jack-hammering under the table. I pop a painkiller dry like my life depended on it.

Sex, money, drugs, loyalty - it’s all passed around like the common cold. There is nothing nobody holds dear that they aren’t willing to give to get what they want.

Sometimes I wish a comet will just fall from the sky and burn us all into oblivion. We deserve it. Or maybe, I alone do. But I’m not hesitant on taking everyone with me.

I walk out to find Frank perched on a wall in the Pit, random people surrounding him, trying to get a nose in. Heath is closest to me when I step into the circle and nudges me. “You okay, man?”

“Dandy.” Maybe I’m not pulling it off as well as I think I am.

“Eric!” Frank calls and motions for others to get closer. From here in, he speaks quietly. “The deal is, ladies and gentlemen, that we are leaving at Five. We have about seven house calls for a premier warning. After that, we know the deal. We take two cars. Abnegation and Candor is our sweepstake tonight. Place your bets.”

“Abnegation,” I say immediately. Candor does nothing for my patience. “Jimmy’s with me.”

“Interesting,” Frank hums. “Well, I’m with Eric, Leroy’s with me. That leaves you, Heath, to gather the rest and go to Candor. Can I rely on you?”

“Totally,” Heath says in awe. “I got this.” He gets patted on the back and looks like Christmas has come early.

“Keep your head cool.”

Through it all, I see Leroy staring at me out the corner of my eye. And with my mood slowly dissipating, I turn to him. “What the fuck’s your problem?”

“I’m wondering if you’ve got a stiff one for the young’un.” He smiles and shows a set of teeth, the front two chipped.

“I got a stiff fist for your face-” I grumble. But before I either of us can get at each other, Frank jumps up and steps between us.

“Boys, boys, this is our fucking brotherhood, that we, yes we, have brought up to speed.” He grabs my shoulder and squeezes hard. “We will go down like a pile of shit on a slope if we start going off at each other.” I can barely hear him, my fists curled at my sides, counting to ten as Leroy continues to smile. “You like the lives you got, right? You don’t want that to change?” The others agree and answer but I only glance at Frank, his eyes passing judgment on me quickly. “Right?” he asks again.

Everything screams for me to defy, but I’m also a terribly good liar, and certainly don’t want the advantage of my painkillers taken away. “Right.” I hardly sound convincing, imaging myself snapping back his hand so fast that it splits the bone. I comfort myself with my father’s voice from years ago: never hate your enemies, it affects your judgment, then his smile as he ruffed up my hair and added, but make sure you have a good time riling them. When my lips rise to form a smirk, Leroy’s expression falters, but it satisfies Frank.

“Good. I’ll meet you outside at five, no later.” The group shifts to move off but Frank holds me back. “Eric, can we talk for a minute?”

“I’ve voiced my opinion and that asshole. You know what I think.”

He waits until we are alone, putting an arm on my shoulder and guides us back towards where he was sitting previously. “This animosity has to stop, for the sake of the group. They get a sniff there is a divide, it spells trouble. People start taking sides.”

We stare at each other for a moment. “Is there sides?” I ask. “Sorry, if I’m a little defensive that I hardly know the guy and yet he keeps talking at me, over me, and not to me. And the others see it too. Who’s place did they crash at last night? Mine!”

“Leroy has a good relationship with Erudite. He pulled through for us. He got the stock in and the cover we need so we don’t get our asses handed to us by Max.”

“It’s just all a little convenient.” Like me, Leroy deflected from Erudite. He’s been in Dauntless for three years but only recently went to Frank in the last few months to see if there was an opening. The checks I’ve run say he has no relations and no dependents in Dauntless, so it can’t be for the benefits.

“Jesus, Eric!” Frank throws his arm up in the air. “There’s always a fucking problem.”

“Because I think before I act,” I point out, saying the words slowly. “Last night was unacceptable.”

Frank grins, then says, “Don’t tell me you’ve gone soft.” My shoulder begins to throb and I roll it out, turning my head towards a bunch of overly loud teens. He licks his lips and moves closer. “You are the only one who gives it to me straight, no sugar-coating. Don’t tell me I’m losing that boy?”

“You wanna tell me the plans you have for Max? Or is that between just you and Leroy now?”

Frank laughs lightly. It turns into a hum and he looks up far to the glass ceiling above us. “Who am I trying to fool? I merely wanted it to be a surprise.” Not answering, he continues, “There is a shift in hierarchy. Max and his group of goons are losing it. Every interaction comes from Jeanine first, through us.” He pulls out his cigarettes and offers me one, which I take gladly. “We have more info on each faction by our visitations. We know what’s going down way before Max, and hell, the factionless have put in a plea for our medicinal meanderings.” He cups a hand and lights his cigarette, lighting mine on the same stroke.

“Taking on the factionless is a wasted thought. They have no loyalty to anything.”

“What if, we can make them have a loyalty, through us. That the last word on whether points or favors that don’t get paid are still reinforced with no intervention from… whatever the fuck is the policing they abide by because they sure as hell don’t give two damns about Dauntless.”

I sigh heavily, flexing the quake in my hand and state the obvious, “You’ve already broached it.”

“Mrs. Queen Bee likes the idea. It gives a strategic advantage. And better yet, in the future, there may be no rebellion or snotty little mix-ups Dauntless have to get involved in and waste our fucking time over. But it’s to be all hush-hush. Factions won’t like it.” He takes a long drag. “I wanted time to think it through and of course, I wanted to ease the idea onto you.” Frank chuckles. “But it seems you know me all too well.”

“And yet, you don’t want to hear what I say about Leroy?”

Holding the cigarette between his teeth, he lifts his shirt. “Why we didn’t crash at yours last night,” he explains, a bandage over a wound which I assume was from a knife. Ash drops down onto his leg and he dusts it off. “You walked in on my cameo after I got dug out by the man. Leroy was there. You weren’t. I got sloppy.” Shaking my head, I don’t know what to think. But Frank seems to be on an epiphany and can't see beyond his nose. “This gets bigger, I want you and Leroy tight. We front this thing.”

“We are already fronting this.”

“Your pain, it still there?” Frank asks out of the blue. He’d seen me earlier no doubt. By not answering it speaks the truth. “We make this bigger and better. We make it official. We take Max off the high-horse and from chewing our asses, our medical bills are cleared and we get to run this piss poor fucking rubble. Hard work pays off.”

“We are dealers and debt collectors.”

“And Mary was a virgin and birthed a baby. We all lie.” He stands up, rubbing his forehead quickly. “Think about it. I’ll give you some time, a few days. You’re still with me, man, aren’t you? You’re my number two. You’ve been there for me.”

He knows he can’t make this all work without my influence. The Eric Coulter, the once epitome of Dauntless, a leader the moment I passed my initiation, the face people will accept easier if Max suddenly disappeared. Flicking my cigarette, I meet him straight in the eye. “I’m told first.”

Who am I kidding? Power is why I joined Dauntless. If I lose that sense, I’m going to lose myself.

Frank’s giddy with laughter, growling as he claps my shoulder. “I fucking knew it. You fucking had me there. You fucking little…” he trails off, nodding his head for me to follow him.

I stare off down the street to a lone lamppost in the Abnegation street, one hand gripping the wheel, the other resting on my leg. The car is smoky from Frank puffing in the back, Leroy next to him, and Jimmy barely taking up the passenger seat next to me. It’s the hit of the evening and it’s still early. There is always one that can never chalk up in time

I’m busy chewing my lip when I hear Leroy roll his window down and throw something out. “The kid does this one,” he says gruffly like acid is burning his throat.

“Interesting choice. What do you say, Jim?” Frank taps the back of his chair.

My eyes briefly flick towards Jimmy as he turns, holding the seat belt. “What? You want me to-”

“It’s the house directly in front of the lamppost, you can’t miss it,” Leroy insists. Jimmy looks to me but I turn away. “You’re not pussying out on us now, are you?”

“No. I just didn’t think I’d be going in alone.”

“You’re not,” I say, glancing in the rearview mirror. “We’ll be behind you.”

“Well, I don’t know about you, but a stiff drink is calling me. So, whenever you two decide…” Frank trails off, opening his door. “Lead the way, Jimmy, there’s a good boy.”

Jimmy hasn’t lead a hit yet. This will be his first. I know, and they know, that he’s the worst physically and mentally of our group, let alone being the newest and only viewing the late-night meet and greets from a distance.

“The house... by the lamppost?” Jimmy asks unsurely, pushing a hand through his hair and his breath curdling in the air quicker than the rest of us.

“Yeah,” Leroy says, leaning on the car and flicking his hand when we all look to him. “Some Mr. Gordon. Late payment. Ignored the premier warning. He pays now with points or with his life. You know the drill.” He pulls out a drink in a small flask and downs some before Frank snatches it off him.

Jimmy is panicking internally, his face paling considerably even in the patchy moonlight. “Just get it done,” I hiss, grabbing his gun from his holster and shoving it into his trembling hands. “Confirm who he is, before you pull the trigger.”

Jimmy nods slowly, then takes a quick stride towards the house, a wheeze of laughter sounding off behind from Frank. Instead, those two stand by the car with their flask, still chuckling, and I take it upon myself to follow to at least make sure he gets it right. I’m not a fan of sitting out here for the rest of the night.

My eyes automatically close in exasperation when Jim holds the gun up the moment the front door opens and somebody screams. “You’ve had your premier warning!” Jimmy’s uncertain voice is anything but authoritative. He moves inside the door and I follow quickly behind, closing it. “You have to pay!”

There’s an old man on his knees, hands held up in mercy, a younger girl clutching to him, all in their fucking pajamas.

“We-we don’t have anything to pay!” he begs, erratically glancing between us.

There’s movement on the stairs; an older woman that has Jim throwing his gun around like he’s lost the plot. “Keep it steady,” I demand from behind him, but I don’t think he can hear me.

“You can’t pay, you die. Now’s your chance!” he shouts like a lunatic.

“We don’t-” I’m not prepared for the gunshot that rings in my ears. It takes me by surprise, but it’s no surprise to see that Jim didn’t hit where he intended to. There’s screaming and sobbing from everywhere and we’ve no doubt woken the whole neighborhood. Blood spills out of the man's hand from where he tried to defend himself. In slow motion, I see Jim take aim again, firing a second shot but this time somewhere in the old man’s stomach, sending him backward and into the arms of the young girl.

“Jim!” I knock his gun away, disarming him. He’s managed to fuck it up, just like we all knew he would. I steel my face to make my point, and ask calmly, “Is he Mr. Gordon?”

The old woman rushes down the stairs, arms flailing, “No! He’s not! They live across the street! What have you done!?” Between the chanting pieces of abuse and blame, I find Jimmy over my shoulder. “Why did you shoot him?!” the old woman demands, filling his silence perfectly, and asking the question I want to.

Jimmy’s shaking his head, backing off as the man begins gasping, tensing up while breathing his last, the wound gushing as he bleeds out. “Congratulations, you just killed an innocent man,” my voice is steady, regardless of the mayhem around us.

“It was a mistake!”

I unclip my gun, shoot three shots without a pause, and holster it. “Make sure it’s only them in the house.” My eyes are still locked on the three bodies now slumped in front of me. Jimmy peels up the steps and I crouch down next to the young girl, rubbing a hand over my face slowly. She could only be sixteen at most.

That train, it’s coming. That rhythmic beat flooding every one of my senses.

“No one,” Jimmy breathlessly replies as he stumbles back down. I stand up, Jimmy following me out the front door. “Eric?” he says my name maybe in an attempt to stop me or talk to me. But I don’t respond.

Frank and Leroy watch us approach, stopping whatever conversation they were just having. My chest hits Leroy’s as we come face to face. “House directly outside the lamppost, huh? That’s what you said.”

He puts his hand on top of the car door to steady himself and I turn away as if my anger had got the better of me. “My bad. Abnegation doesn't exactly have house numbers on them now, do th-” I boot the door and it bounces off him, jarring his hand, and Frank grabs me, pulling me away.

“I’ll see to it that he gets this written up as a factionless incident,” he holds both my shoulders steady. “You listening?”

“I’m not working with him again.”

“It was a mistake,” he tells me.

“Funny, because that was what Jimmy was saying when he shot an innocent man by accident.” I shove him away but he comes right back, holding me steadfast, gritting his teeth together.

“And when did you start to care for the innocent? Huh? Bullshit, Eric. Bullshit!”

“Do you know what, get the fuck off me…” Pushing him away, Frank shakes his head. “Get in the car.” Jimmy’s still gawping at us and as I pass I slap him upside the head - hard. “Get in the car, idiot.”

Leroy is still gripping his wrist and Frank gestures for him to get in without a word; just a shrug - a knowing shrug.

That train has hit the station; that anger that I can never seem to control, the one Frank likes to mock, rears its ugly head. Frank sparks up a cigarette and I turn on them, “Mr. Gordon has paid his debt,” I say affirmatively.

“Bullshit,” Frank calls.

“He’s paid his debt, every morning waking up to a family wiped out over his own doing. His debt is paid. Jimmy doesn’t make a hit again.” The car revs loudly as it starts, my foot on the pedal to skid us back around towards Dauntless.

“Easy there, boy,” Frank says, watching through the back window until we are straight again. “Someone might say you’re trying to get one of us killed.”

“Out of this car, I could pick quite easily.”

Jimmy has been looking into his lap the entire time, only moving to grab the side of his seat as the car takes a corner sharply. “Eric, I’m sorry, man.”

“Don’t talk to me.”

“I mean it, I’m sor-” He’s cut off as I lash out sloppily, hitting him wherever, his hands guarding his face.

“Fucking sorry, huh? You’re sorry?” Finally, I land a hit to his face and split his lip. He’s like a whimpering child and I can’t even bear to look at him. In my mind's eye I see myself turning the wheel too sharply and rolling this bitch; maybe wrap us around a tree or an old building, or if we’re lucky, hit head-on and go up in flames. They always say fire is the best way to vanquish evil.

Dauntless open up the gates without question in the parking lot, and when the engine dies, Jimmy and Leroy almost jump out. But Frank leans up from behind, grips my shoulder in one hand, and holds a small paperlike square on the tip of his finger in the other. “I don’t want that,” I say. The high I was feeling earlier is gone, leaving nothing but a heaviness.

“You don’t want it, but I think you need it.” He keeps the little dissolvable, sweet paper presented to me. “Go live the Dream for the night. Feel nothing.”

The letter D imprinted on the paper is tempting me. It could almost be a D for Dauntless. In my contemplation, the inside lights die in the vehicle and it’s the darkness that grips a hold, forcing me to choose. I take it from him, hearing him exit the car, and put the paper in my mouth, feeling it dissolve instantly.

I wake up in a sweat, sitting bolt upright in my bed, fully clothed, and alone. I’m not sure of the night; to what extent or where it had ended or who with. But I remember Max. I remember the disappointed look he gave me; lowering his head and brows furrowed - flashes of different surroundings

“You said you’d check your emails,” his voice is echoing while I rub my face in the morbid morning, trying to put the pieces together. I know I was in the Pit. Heath was there. Frank with some girl in the corner. “Have you taken something?”

“No,” I say into my bedroom, but hear it faintly in the back of my mind.

“I think it’s time you went home.”

“I am home,” I say, but Max shakes his head.

“Check your emails.”

As the dream fizzles out, my shoulder brings me back to the now, and I rush up for the bathroom. I open my door a crack and I’m surprised to see Jimmy on the couch this time and no one else. We must have put that shit behind us.

My phone beeps in my pocket and I pull it out to scroll through the messages. Random missed calls, multiple emails, a lone message Frank had sent branding me a dickhead. The latest one is from Max, saying I should get to his office now.

I’m still studying the message, trying to figure out why he’d need me so urgently. “Jimmy! Get up and get out!” My voice is off, dry like I spent all night shouting.

Just an ordinary night, then.

Max’s office is not what anyone would imagine from a Leader of Dauntless. Hell, I don’t even visit my own - if at all, for days on end. It’s bright apart from a section of a neighboring building being the view from the window. His desk is clean, files organized precisely, and the most amusing thing - classical music on a low volume. My skin is still buzzing from a freezing shower, and I roam inside, my hands are pocketed, using the back of my boot to let the door close slowly behind me. He smiles, for what it’s worth, and then motions me to the bucket seat in front of his desk. “Coffee?” he asks. From this display of polystyrene cups and a brewed pot of coffee, I know he’s been waiting for me

I express a grand smile for him only, casually dropping into the seat. “What’s all this about?”

“Did you check your emails, or were you too busy having fun yesterday?” We stare at each other for a minute while I try to process what he knows. “Apparently there was a factionless robbery-gone-wrong last night. You know much about it?”

“First time I’ve heard,” I successfully feint sincerity.

Again with his condescending grin, leaning forward to pour out two coffees. “I’ll update you when I have all the facts.”

“Thanks,” I say, taking my coffee, checking it before I sip it.

“I’m not one to lace a coffee, Eric, you know me.”

“Shall we just cut to the chase? Morning meeting starts in half an hour.”

Max leans back and drums the desk. “I’ve got a proposition for you.”

Rolling my eyes, I down a fair amount, letting it burn my tongue. “I’m not interested.”

“Why? You got too much to do?” The silence after says everything and nothing at all. Eventually, his face softens to one I can recall from when I was a teenager. “What the fuck you doing? Where did all that spruce that you had get up and leave - at what point? Is it the job, Dauntless, a relationship I don’t know about? Did you get fooled by a girl-”

“I didn’t come here for a psych analysis. I thought you may have needed me for something a little bit more important, you know. And besides that, it’s none of your goddamn business.”

“Despite the fact that I’m head of command, this involves you, whether you like it or not. Where your interest lies - for the good of the factions, is being called continuously into question. It’s a headache I am beginning to get tired of. Did I make the wrong choice to put you forward all those years ago to watch you go off and spit it back in my face? What would your dad say-”

I crush the empty cup feeling like he’s just dug the knife in and twisted. “Don’t you fucking talk about my dad.”

“Why? People never want to talk when there is guilt involved... You feel guilty? Is that what plays on your mind?”

No words escape me apart from a scoff. My will to retaliate against the old heartfelt, cold grip of family ties lays placid. Yes, if that is the answer he is looking for, guilt is one of the things I feel. He had expectations of me for staying on in Erudite, taking over his life-long work of faction cohabitation, to see the in-depth point of view many miss as to why the factions work, why everyone needs a place, and to spend my life writing about it like he did. But I didn’t do that. I told him Erudite wasn’t for me, and though he was disappointed, he sat down and explained the good I could do with such a steady head and a constant drive to firmly get my point across. To make it work, even if it was in Dauntless.

And on that cold December fifth, while waiting at the station to meet me - a train I never took because I was too busy with my head up my ass - Coulter senior was struck with a sudden heart attack there and then, and died alone, cold, perhaps suddenly, but who is to say? The fact is, he is dead, and maybe he wouldn’t be if I’d taken just a little time out and went to meet him.

“He was a good friend of mine,” Max breaks the trance I’ve been sat in for I don’t know how long. My posture is terrible, I look downtrodden, but the moment he wheels himself closer to the desk and sits upright, I mirror him, holding my head high. “The world works in mysterious ways. It’s not your fault, you couldn’t have known.”

I could have sent a message, I could have called, there is a lot of things I could have done.

“And in some ways, you are exactly like him. That stubbornness. You want to know how I met him?” Max asks. I don’t know how they knew each other, I’ve just known Max most of my life, and more so when he became my trainer. “He was trying to get a personal account from the factionless. Surrounded by them as we pulled up. Must have ruffled some feathers. He’d gone in alone with an audio recorder and a notepad and pen. I asked him what the hell he was doing and what he thought he was going to do if they turned on him. Do you know what he said?”

“Kill them with words?” His voice is the one I hear when I say it.

Max only nods, gripping his hands together on the desk. “Look, I called you here because Amity have an inspection they were hoping for me to participate in. I can’t be there, and I can’t send just anybody to represent Dauntless. If you read any of your father’s work, he talks about reliable, known faces and presence consistency. His books are my guide.”

“You want me to go to Amity to write up a report?”

“It has to be precise. State the sources you use. Your conclusion. Amity is off the beaten track and not much is ever provided informatically or timely, that’s why it’s important. ...You look like you could do with the country air anyway.”

“Is that your sweet way of telling me I look like shit?” I ask, a smirk tugging at my lips because it is no lie. My class coming up to the finals do not directly need me to watch over them anymore, they will all pass. And Frank always talked about broaching Amity. But with their herbs and home remedies, the interest and distance have always been a bother.

“Well, I didn’t wanna say, but some vitamin D could do you some good…” He begins laughing loudly with its signature rasp. “Your pale ass is looking whiter than a white man’s bare butt cheek.”

“Get the fuck out of here,” I say as I stand up, feeling incredibly lighter than I did before, but worse in my sense of confliction with loyalty. Turning to Max, remembering mine and Frank’s previous conversation the moment I meet his eye, for a split second, my mouth almost begins moving before I can think it through, wanting to mention something; a warning of some type. But then that disloyalty is on me because I know and without a prompt, I wouldn’t have mentioned a word.

In fact, it’s the first proper thought I’ve had over it. And it couldn’t have come at a worse time after just speaking with him so personally. He’s right, it is guilt.

“Oh, hold on,” Max says, reaching down to a drawer and pulling a book out that looks well-read and dropped a couple of times. “Why don’t you take this and read it? It was your dad’s first ever copy of it. I know it well. You should have it.”

It’s hard-backed and in a navy blue cover, Michael Coulter printed on the bind. I pick it up and feel the weight of it in my hand. “By the way, the young kid, Jimmy, I’ll be taking him with me.”

“No problem,” Max says while picking up the phone on his desk and putting it to his ear. “You have an hour before your departure. Two days to get a summary together. Don’t worry about the granny meeting this morning.”

“This doesn’t mean I’ll be picking up every Amity-Adventure-Pack from here on out. I’m not being alone in this.” He’s smiling at me but is too busy talking down the phone to reply. Once I’m out in the hall and close his door, I breathe in a lungful of air. I better find Jimmy and pack some shit.

I find out later that I’m not driving, nor is Max allowing a truck to rest at Amity for the length that I’m there. Maybe he’s afraid I’ll hightail it as soon as I feel like it. I sure do now more than I did before

Jimmy is next to me keeping quiet, a reluctance to go that seeps off him. But I try to focus on the task at hand while gripping the handle of my holdall with all my possessions. We know we hit Amity when the road widens, turns to dirt, and there isn’t the usual rubble of the buildings. Whatever was left in this part of Chicago had been torn down and reused by these folks. On some of the houses out from the center of Amity - holding cows in pens and I can practically smell the shit in the air without a window being open - I can see parts that have been reused on the structures, parts that don’t blend in and stick out.

“Why did the chicken cross the road?” Jimmy mumbles, staring ahead of us as we come hurdling in our truck straight for some brave cock strutting in front of us.

“To get hit by a Dauntless truck,” I humor him, just on time for the thump under the wheel. Not driving and being a passenger makes me nauseous, but I can’t bring myself to open the window, opting to run a hand down my face while it’s still clean.

It’s about eleven at the latest, and for our arrival, a lot of the Amity people have gathered along with a small squadron that lives out here and swaps over every two weeks. Though, there has been no hostility or problems like there has been around the other factions and their presence seems useless. Amity like to keep to themselves. Johanna is the representative of this faction by the people’s vote, but her voice is not the only voice that has to be heard on any decision, but it may as well be.

Everything is too bright, too joyous, the sun shining warmly, not like the grey feeling Dauntless seems to cast. There are carts and horses, women carrying firewood in baskets, and children running down the tracks. I feel Jimmy’s stare on me. “I’ve never been to Amity before,” he says but not sourly, it’s like he’s enjoying the view.

“Trust me, in a few hours you’re going to be wanting to leave.” Throwing the cab door open I drop down, straight into a fucking puddle. Lifting my foot to view the damage, Jimmy almost bumps into me. I grab his arm and pull him back from wandering forwards. “Get the bags.” He huffs and turns, shouldering mine and his.

“There was a storm last night,” a voice says, an old man with greying hair and a beard, his clothes loose and flapping in the slight breeze with a smile on his face. His eyes are dark while he watches the truck unload, the former squadron packing their stuff on board. It’s always two birds with one stone with Max. “Johanna’s dealing with some laws of the land but will be with us shortly. I’ll take you to where you are staying in the meantime.” He steps forward and holds out a hand. “It’s a pleasure, Mr. Coulter. Amity welcomes you.”

I grip his hand firmly and shake it with Jimmy as my witness over my shoulder. “We’ll only be under your feet for two days. Today being one of them.”

“I hope your stay is as pleasant as possible,” he says, motioning a hand for us to follow. “Only good weather is predicted from here on out. Seems you brought the sunshine with you.”

I make a face at Jimmy who smirks and follow him. We stopped the truck just down the track from the classic dome glass building that represents Amity. The long wooden structure of the stables and offices merged together on my left, further in the distance. Between the trees, the path is winding and offset to what I assume is living quarters. The old man stops by the nearest cabins that are opposite each other, covered by trees, ones that I can’t help but look up to as the leaves sway high above us.

“Keeps it cool in the summer,” the man explains. “And covers us in the winter.”

“Practical,” I hear myself say quietly.

“How rude, I’m Joe. You’ll find me around. If you need anything.”

The cabins have their own dark wooden porch, basic infrastructure, and I dread what is inside. “Keys?”

Joe laughs. “What on Earth for? They are both open.”

Staring after him when he begins to walk away, I look to Jimmy who hands me my holdall. Without a word, I step up to one of the cabins, the wood creaking underfoot, bowing and distorting, and I wonder how old it is - or whether I’m about to fall through. It’s a simple hooked doorhandle and it opens up to a studio type room; small sink and counters for the kitchen below the window, a bed on the right made-up. The lamp is on beside it.

I stand in this compact space, loathing the seconds being in it. But what I can appreciate is the silence. There is nothing. But it’s a lighter nothing to what I feel in Dauntless. I take a seat on the edge of the bed and put my elbows on my knees, peering down to my bag. Tugging on the zip, the first thing I see is my father's book inside, the navy cover and his name in print staring up at me.

I pick it up and open it, viewing the contents. There is a section at the end of the book about Amity, which I flick to.

The Amity way of life. Broken down easily by stepping one foot onto the overturned soil. It is not power or hierarchy that they value, nor tend to have any interest in said subject. It is just living.

Biting my lip and leaning back, I’m not in the mood to read further. I check my phone instead, seeing a missed call from Frank a few hours ago after I messaged him that I wouldn’t be around for a few days. The moment I see it is the moment the signal goes. Could have expected as much. No signal, I type, sending it, hoping he will get it when the reception comes back.

Johanna has a section of her office on the first floor over the barn with a long wooden table - a poor effort to the boardrooms at Dauntless, but at least nobody smokes here. It’s warm and stuffy, smelling like pine with a fire lit on the furthest side of the room. Johanna’s wrapping up a conversation she’d brought to the meeting, conveniently set over lunchtime.

While Jimmy tugs at the collar of his uniform, plates of food offerings are set in front of us. I ignore them, scowling at Johanna’s ignorance to leave us lingering for so long. She catches me watching and waves off the woman hanging over her shoulder.

“I apologize, Eric. It’s been a rather…” she side-eyes the woman. “Torturous morning.” At least she has a sense of humor. “Max was too busy to attend, I see. When you see him tell him I said hello.”

“It’s an inspection, but that doesn’t mean we are expecting any other additional treatment. Normal everyday life can continue as is, otherwise, the assessment is misinterpreted. I’ll write up a report and be out of your way by tomorrow afternoon.” Licking my thumb, I flick through some notes in front of me. “It does mean I need access to everything.”

“Nothing is locked so your access is already granted.” She smiles at me when I frown upwards, her bangles on stubby arms hitting the table in front of her.

“About that-” I begin, but I’m interrupted by a bowl of fucking strawberries being placed beside me. “That’s already an issue. It’s hardly safe. Trust in your people can only go so far.”

Joe is here, placed to her side, and he sighs to himself.

“It’s been this way for many years. I will not change it now.”

“Either way, it’s going in the report,” I shrug. “I’ll need access to stock, law, initiate quotas… the works. But I already suggest a reassessment on security. It would be good to prepare.”

Jimmy’s eating next to me, Johanna even divulging herself. I begin to get the feeling I’m in the canteen and not in a provisional meeting. “What’s ours is yours, I have every faith in Dauntless,” she says.

I’m offered cold meats on a tray and wave them off. I’m losing my patience. “Is there anything you’d like to say now before I begin?”

“Oh, yes…” Johanna licks her fingers. “We had a group of factionless come by. We fed and watered them and sent them on their way. It didn’t go down in one of the files, so…”

I’m offered something to drink, this time turning to show my displeasure but stop when I see henna tattoos along the woman’s arms serving me. “Why?” I ask, my question sounding off as I watch her round to Jimmy.

“They were a very poor looking group. There was no threat. And it was hardly a good use of the Dauntless soldiers time chasing after them,” Johanna says. I’m caught watching the woman because she looks up at me from serving Jim. Not one to look away first, I wait until she does.

Kicking my legs out under the desk, I try my best to realign my thoughts and bite my tongue. “Did it not occur to you that this could have been a potential risk?”

“It occurs to me that Dauntless despise the factionless and don’t like time wasters.” Johanna smiles so sweetly, I think she’s beginning to mock me and I narrow my eyes for good measure, words burning in my throat. “But I can get a report for you if you need it.”

“I don’t like being misinformed.”

“You also don’t like strawberries.” The bowl is taken from beside me by the same woman I spied before, a smile on her lips.

“Eric, we wouldn’t mislead you knowingly or on purpose. It’s not how Amity works…” Johanna drones on while I watch the woman with the long red skirt down to her ankles, a midriff from a small white top, shoulder-length hair hanging limp. I’m hardly being subtle and neither is she because her hazel eyes find mine again. Jimmy taps me and I realize that Johanna is staring blankly at me.

“Don’t let it happen again.” I sit up and sip my water. “It makes it difficult when it shouldn’t have to be.” I’m not making sense. I don’t even know if that is what she was expecting me to say. “We done here?” Jimmy gestures sarcastically to all the food left on his plate while I see the girl slip out the back, and I stand up, patting his shoulder. “You finish your food.”

“Mr. Coulter,” Johanna half-stands on my exit, a confused glance around the room on maybe why I’m hurrying so quickly.

The door brings me to a flight of stairs, and peering over the banister I just catch a glimpse of red. The stairs lead down to the ground floor, a waiter’s exit and entrance with a path leading to the dome. But she hasn’t gone that way, instead, I find her refilling a jug of water on the adjacent wall of a makeshift counter and sink with food that hasn’t been served yet. The bowl of strawberries is beside her and I stroll up quietly and pluck one out.

“It’s rude to assume.”

She tenses up, but other than that she continues. “A man showing no interest in food has more troubles enough to fill his plate.”

“That’s still assuming,” I say, mirth in my voice by how she won’t show her face to me. I may be in Amity, but a guy still needs something to do here, and by the looks of her...

Shutting off the tap, she turns, holding the jug. “Good day, Mr. Coulter.”

Maybe I was wrong? I keep her cornered so she can’t get past without spilling her bounty. “It’s Eric. But you know who I am, don’t you?”

“Yes. Were you assuming I didn’t?” She smiles back at me and I scoff, dropping my chin and pocketing my hands, suddenly feeling like I have never spoken to a girl before as my confidence dwindles. In reality, I’ve never had to try very hard, and they have certainly never been so deflecting. It annoys me that I have misread the signals, forgetting I was in Amity and not in the Pit’s playground. I’ve been in Dauntless too long. “Can I help you with something? Are you lost perhaps?”

“No,” I breathe and step aside for her to pass. Maybe I am troubled? Too troubled to even hold an enticing conversation. What could I even bring to the table for someone to be interested in me other than my name or title? It angers me that I can’t express myself beyond the dark cloud hanging over my head. I now even look like a fool, watching her skirt sway when she reaches the stairs. I drop my eyes, squeezing my shoulder that begins throbbing and then eat the strawberry. But she stops before the partition of wall and I don’t feign my surprise.

“It’s Fleur.” She passes judgment on me in an instant through a long look. She is the definition of the word reluctant. “My name... is Fleur.”

“Meaning flower?”

Her smile is weaker this time and she averts her eyes elsewhere. I wonder if she regrets telling me. The first ebbings of paranoia begin to dot my skin at the back of my neck. “Something like that,” she mumbles.

“La vie est une fleur dont l’amour est le miel.” I begin to wonder if she can hear the shake in my voice that claims my hands.

“I…” she sighs quickly to herself and tilts her head, shifting from one foot to the other. “I don’t speak French.”

“No, of course not... It’s a dead language,” I shrug it off. She forces her lips to form a pathetic attempt at a sheepish grin that spells ‘fuck off’ politely and then disappears up the steps. It is the last time I’ll try my hand. She may as well have shot me.

The aftershock sure feels like she had, and as I turn, leaning on the counter, I pull out my painkillers. Swallowing them dry, it takes a few minutes for the fog to clear in my head. Eventually, I pick myself up, straightening my spine, and head out for the first evaluation at the dome, alone.

#woke #eric divergent fanfiction #fanfiction #eric coulter #jai courtney #divergent #insurgent #chapter 1 #beautifulramblingbrains

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