#youre caught in the light and the way walker paints light.... there are layers | Explore Tumblr posts and blogs

kykyonthemoon · 3 years ago

Text

A Midsummer Night's Dream

A Childe/ Tartaglia x Lumine Fanfic

During The Summer Festival in Inazuma, Lumine encountered a kitsune-masked man. He was strange, yet so familiar. Who could he be?...

-------------------------

When Lumine and Paimon set foot in Inazuma, the weather was midsummer. In the sweltering air, the streets strewn with cherry blossoms became ever more bustling. The Summer Festival had arrived, with residents across Inazuma putting aside their daily worries to enjoy the best things summer had to offer.

Even travelers like Lumine and Paimon could not resist being invited to the festival. The lady from Kamisato house had asked Lumine and Paimon to accompany her, but something unexpected caused her to make another appointment. Determined not to miss the occasion, Lumine and Paimon agreed to take to the streets in new outfits that Ayaka had sent them.

Inazuma clothing is multi-layered and slightly harder to wear than previously worn by Lumine. In the summer, people do not wear too many layers due to the hot weather. As she put on the yukata, Lumine secretly admired its beauty: each needle line was very neat and beautiful, the outfit was pale yellow, dotted with cherry blossoms, especially it was not as hot as she had thought. There was also a hand fan made of bamboo and fabric of the same color as her yukata, which featured koi fish. Lumine remembered that Ayaka once told her about the types of fans, and this one was called “uchiwa,” and the koi pattern symbolized good luck.

“Traveler! You look beautiful!”

Lumine turned to her companion. Paimon wore the same patterned yukata as her, but it was pink and white. Her little friend looked more adorable than ever.

“I was thinking if my dress is a bit tight. If Paimon can’t eat anything tonight, I’ll be so angry at the Kamisato!”

Lumine burst into laughter.

The bustling city of Inazuma greeted them in the glorious sunset. On both sides of the road, colorful lanterns were lit. Everywhere was filled with different restaurants and stalls; flowers, prayer charms, masks, and decorations that extend all the way to Amakane Island. The most sold was, of course, food. Needless to say, Paimon loved to be here.

“Whoa! What a crowd!” Paimon remarked as they mingled with the group of walkers. “Don’t leave me behind, Traveler!”

However, it was Lumine who was left behind when Paimon was caught up in the roadside food stalls. The little companion flew up and then swooped down on literally every stall she saw, as they offered free tastings. A few minutes later, Lumine could not see Paimon anymore.

Lumine could not fly like Paimon. She had to squeeze through the stream of smiling and talking people to find her friend. Inazuma City is large, with small streets intertwined and connected to one another. After a long search, Lumine accepted the fact that she had lost Paimon.

Lumine sighed. It’s also unclear where she was on the map of Inazuma City. She wandered alone, looking at the streets and rolled her eyes to every corner to see if Paimon was somewhere around. Not paying attention to the path, she suddenly bumped into someone's back.

“Sorry… I’m sorry!” Lumine said, embarrassed.

In front of her was a white yukata patterned with light blue waves. Whoever she bumped into was much taller than her. Then, he turned around.

Lumine noticed that he was wearing a kitsune mask on his face. Although his face was unknown to her, his appearance was very familiar; tall and slim, with short, choppy orange hair, even his voice was like that person.

“Are you alright, Miss?”

Lumine was frozen for a moment.

"You're not hurt, are you? You should be careful in such a crowded place like this. I can’t bear to see a beautiful lady like you get hurt."

Lumine frowned. Even these teasing words were very similar to a person she knew.

"We've met before, haven't we?" She asked frankly. Lumine does not like to play the vague game.

The one in kitsune mask laughed out loud:

“Quite a bold young lady, aren’t you? Perhaps we’ve met, in my sweetest dreams.”

Lumine blushed. She was both embarrassed and a little angry. How dared a stranger make fun of her like that?

“If you’re not the person I know, then I’m sorry for bothering you.”

Saying so, Lumine was about to leave, but the man stopped her.

"Wait. I'm sorry I teased you. But you look a little lost, Miss. Is there anything I can do to help you?"

Lumine weighed in on it a bit. She really needed to find Paimon and get back to the inn. Yet was this stranger trustworthy?

“Are you a local?” Lumine asked.

"No. I'm an outsider, just like you. The only difference is that I've been here for a while. I have some personal business here."

If it's a private matter, it's best not to ask. Lumine thought so. She hesitated for a moment and replied:

"I'm actually looking for my friends. I’ve just lost her."

"Then you've met the right person. I know every corner around here."

Seeing that Lumine did not believe him, the man said, "Come on, don't look at me like that! I just want to help a far-away traveler. That’s all."

"All right." Lumine replied. "But if you ask for mora, I don't have much..."

The masked man looked at her for a moment and then laughed so loudly that passers-by stared at them.

"Haha! Miss, you're funny! Why do you think my kindness needs to be reciprocated?"

Lumine paused for a moment. Her days of adventure from Mondstadt to Liyue, and now Inazuma, helped her come to terms with one thing: everything has a price. In other words, you scratch my back and I’ll scratch yours.

"Well... I'm sorry I didn't think right about you..." Lumine replied.

"Then, would you accept my help?"

Lumine nodded and said nothing more, but she thought that she would definitely repay today's favor.

They walked through the crowded streets. The masked man told Lumine about Inazuma and about the culture here. It helped widening her perspectives. If she hadn't bothered to look for Paimon, she would have enjoyed the whole atmosphere.

But there's no denying that everything at the Summer Festival was so special and distracted her over and over again. She came across a mask stall by the side of the road and turned to look at the person next to her.

"Do you want to buy a mask too, Miss?" He asked.

"Not really... I'm just thinking your mask is more beautiful and elaborate than what they sell."

The masked man adjusted his mask a little. Lumine saw him laughing.

"Of course. This is something I painted myself! If you want, I'll paint a same one for you."

Lumine waved her hand. “No, there's no need…” she said, but he pulled her into a nearby stall and asked the owner about the masks which customers could paint themselves.

Lumine watched intently as he painted the mask with red, black lines, and yellow dots. Moments later, he gave it to her.

"Here. For you."

Lumine picked up the mask, examining it with amusement.

"Thank you."

"Let me put it on for you."

Lumine looked up at him sheepishly.

"I... I can wear it myself."

Seemingly unable to hear her say anything, he took the mask and put it on one side of her hair.

"T-Thank you..." Lumine said, gazing down at her feet.

The man smiled.

"Hey, I don't even know your name." Lumine said as they continued to go.

"Call me Mr. Kitsune. The kids in Inazuma call me that." He replied and waved to a group of children in the distance.

He seemed to be very loved by children. Lumine thinks that any person who is liked by children cannot be evil by nature. Suddenly she thought of someone she knew. Could it be...? But how could a Harbinger like him be here? She looked around. There's no sight of the Fatui nearby. Was it all just her imagination?

The two walked into a smaller yet not less crowded street. Immediately, Lumine’s attention was caught by a crowd playing a very interesting game. They gathered next to a large pot of water, inside there were many goldfish. Each person held a seemingly fragile racket made out of paper, and tried to get the fish into their little bucket as much as possible during a specific amount of time.

"Do you want to try it?" Mr. Kitsune asked after seeing Lumine’s interest in the game for a long time.

Lumine nodded.

Mr. Kitsune said something to the woman who appeared to be the owner there, and she handed them two rackets and two small buckets.

In excitement, Lumine sat down and Mr. Kitsune sat next to her. Picking up turned out to be much more difficult than it seemed. The racket was flat and very easy to tear, and the dodgy fish seemed to have learned to avoid players and irritate them, skillfully.

Lumine's racket was torn shortly after she thought she had picked up the first fish. She looked to the side. Mr. Kitsune gave her a new one.

"Thank you." Lumine responded and the excitement returned. There's no way she’s going to lose to these goldfish!

After a hard fight, Lumine finally got her first fish. She eagerly turned to Mr. Kitsune to show it off, but then her face went sullen immediately when she saw his bucket full of fish. What was more obnoxious was that he reseted his head on one hand and caught the fish only with the other hand. His attitude of fish-picking was very relaxed, not as strenuous as Lumine's at all.

"How did you get so many fish?" She asked.

"Oh... I don't know. Perhaps it’s my talent?"

He had just finished speaking when another fish fell into his bucket. Lumine gave up and dropped her racket into the bucket. She sat and watched him pick up the fish. From time to time, she pointed to the fish she wanted him to catch.

“This one! It has nice color.”

"You do know that we have to return the fish after the game, right?" He laughed and moved his hand to pick up the fish Lumine wanted.

After the time was up, Mr. Kitsune got the highest prize: a stuffed fox. He gave it to Lumine.

"It does look like you." Lumine looked at the fox in her hands and commented as the two left. It has a soft orange fur, a white belly and four black legs.

"Then every time you see it, you will think of me."

He replied without a hint of shame. But Lumine was blushing like a red tomato. Seemingly aware of her intention to return the fox, he said:

"In Inazuma, it is considered disrespectful to return the given gifts.”

Lumine pinched the fox's nose with a force. She thought about turning it into a sandbag for Paimon to practice her fighting skills, but then it was also too cute for that.

After coming to the end of the street, Lumine realized they had reached the gate of Inazuma. The outside of the city was as bustling as the inside, but the air was fresh and pleasant thanks to the sea. The moon was high, and Paimon was still nowhere to be seen.

Looking around for a moment, Mr. Kitsune said:

"Maybe your friend has gone to Amakane Island. It is the best place to watch the fireworks. Besides, there is also a well-known street stall selling delicious oden.”

Perhaps Paimon would not go there to see the fireworks, but for the food, yes. Lumine agreed to join Mr. Kitsune on the walk to Amakane Island to find her friend. They walked a long way across the coast. Along the way, Lumine noticed that the people of Inazuma City were also heading to the island as they were mostly hands-to-hand couples with smiles. There were butterflies inside her stomach when she thought that walking side by side with Mr. Kitsune like this made them look like a couple.

"Tell me about your friend." Mr. Kitsune suddenly spoke up. "The one whom you thought I was."

Lumine mused. "I don't know if we're friends anymore..."

"What's wrong? Did he do something bad?"

"It could be put that way." Lumine recalled the mess that the Eleventh Harbinger of Fatui – Tartaglia had made in Liyue. Worse than that, he had taken advantage of her trust, leaving her caught up in a dispute between forces like a puppet. Even though everything had been resolved, she still could not let it go easily.

"If he's a bad guy, you should beat him to death and never speak to him again."

Those words made Lumine laugh.

"I do want to beat him up. But..." She paused for a moment and then continued. "There’s also a good side of him that changes my opinions on him. I wonder what his true face is."

They walked a little further. The sound of waves was caught in her ears. Lumine saw some crabs digging the sand and hiding from people in the distance.

"Everyone has their own masks to wear, Miss." Mr. Kitsune said. "One day, I hope he'll have the courage to take his mask off in front of you."

Lumine gazed up at the man wearing the fox mask next to her for a moment. Wasn’t he hiding his face from her too? What's that fox mask hiding that she didn’t know yet? But everyone has secrets, and Lumine is not much of a pryer.

As soon as they arrived at Amakane Island, Lumine’s nose was immediately attacked by the aroma of food emanating from street vendors. Perhaps she was really hungry after the hopeless search for Paimon, and a long walk to this place. Now Lumine just wanted to sit down and eat all the food that the people here had to offer.

Mr. Kitsune led Lumine to an oden stall. They were seated right in front of the counter and the smoke and aroma emanating from the kitchen in front of them made Lumine's stomach rumble louder than ever. There was no need to wait long, their food was served soon after. Lumine's bowl had a variety of food: fish balls, boiled eggs, fried tofu, radishes and even noodles. She happily picked up her chopsticks and grab the food, but then realized that Mr. Kitsune was still sitting and looking at his oden bowl in a rather contemplative way.

"Aren’t you going to eat?" Lumine asked.

"Ah..." Mr. Kitsune seemed confused. He picked up his bamboo chopsticks awkwardly.

That person doesn't even know how to hold a chopstick too... Lumine brushed that thought away as soon as it appeared. She should have let go of the obsession which was him for a long time. Somehow, in all the places she went and the people she met, Lumine was looking for such a familiar silhouette in the past.

"Here, let me show you." Lumine reached out her chopsticks to Mr. Kitsune and demonstrated how to hold them little by little. There were moments when their hands touched and Lumine found herself blushing more than necessary.

"You're so good!" Mr. Kitsune's remarks made Lumine's cheeks flush to the ears.

"Well... It's just a normal skill..." She replied, recalling her days at Liyue, when she had practiced holding chopsticks skillfully to pick up food before Paimon ate it all.

Lumine ate her oden and praised the chef's talent. She also kept her eyes on Mr. Kitsune. He merely lifted the mask a little to eat, and the place they sat was not bright enough for Lumine to see his face clearly.

After the oden, Lumine was once again invited by Mr. Kitsune to a tri-color dango treat. Realizing that she was being treated too much, she offered to pay for some octopus balls called takoyaki which later on she had quite a memory with it. It's a dish of spherical scones made of flour, with chopped octopus fillings and some other ingredients inside, then fried in a special pan that has a lot of semicircular concave parts. Lumine bought a square plate containing four takoyaki arranged neatly inside and she skewered one to her mouth.

“Wait!”

But It was too late for Mr. Kitsune, Lumine had put a whole round takoyaki in her mouth. She looked at him and wondered why he was leaning up as if he’s afraid her tongue was burnt. The food was cold enough to be eaten. But that's just what she thought.

When she bit into the crust and spilled the filling, Lumine knew why Mr. Kitsune had warned her. The filling was so hot that Lumine's tongue tip was on fire. She rushed a hand to her mouth, tears welling up. She tried to chew and swallow the food. Fortunately, it wasn't so hot to the point it actually burned her tongue.

Mr. Kitsune gave her a cool cup of tea. Lumine, after regaining her composure, noticed that he had been chuckled all along. She grimaced, took a sip of tea and said in a furious tone:

"You don't have to laugh at me like that."

Mr. Kitsune tried to suppress his laughter and replied, "Sorry... I've never seen anyone eating takoyaki in such a cute way."

Lumine's face was red, not knowing whether it was the food being too hot or because she was embarrassed.

Nearby, there was a place filled with tiny hexagonal wooden cards. Mr. Kitsune said Lumine could write her prayers on the card and hang it up. She took one and wrote her wish, hoping that she would soon be reunited with her twin brother. Mr. Kitsune just stood beside her, his eyes were looking away.

"You don’t have a prayer?"

"I don't need it." He replied. "My wish has already come true tonight."

Lumine wondered what his wish was, but she doubt that a mysterious man like him would let her know too much about himself.

They still could not find Paimon. Mr. Kitsune said that having gone to this place, at least they should see the fireworks. So Lumine and he climbed the moss-covered stone steps filled with weeds, through the red torii gates that had faded over the years. The whole road felt as the entrance to a wonderland with fireflies and magical forests.

There were also a few others walking up to the fireworks watching location. One of them accidentally bumped into Lumine causing her to slip. She thought she was going to fall, but Lumine was saved. She found herself in Mr. Kitsune's arm and her head on his shoulder. He stood just one step behind her. And then, Lumine caught his blue eyes.

They’re the same like someone’s…

Embarrassed, Lumine stood up. "T-Thank you..." She said, turning her face away.

Lumine was not used to walking on Inazuma wooden slippers. She blamed on them just to avoid thinking about the real cause of her confusion. Mr. Kitsune suddenly stood closer by her and said:

"Hold on to my hand, you won't fall again."

He did not look at Lumine but his hand was reaching out in front of her. Lumine hesitated but held on to it at last. They walked slowly up all the stone steps, to a cherry tree and sat down on a large rock, just in time for the very first fireworks to break out.

The night sky was lit up and there was a loud explosion. Colorful fireworks flew into the sky, then dissolved into hundreds of small rays of light. Lumine watched and admired their beauty. It was truly an ideal place to watch fireworks shoot from Inazuma City. Lumine turned to the man who brought her here.

"Though I can't find my friend, I'm happy that I’ve had a chance to enjoy the festival and watch the fireworks with you."

Mr. Kitsune seemed surprised and delighted.

"It is my honor to accompany you, Miss."

Lumine felt her cheeks burning up again. Perhaps all along the way, she had already known who the man in the kitsune mask really was.

"I hope that we'll see each other again soon."

* *

It was late at night. There was no more fireworks or laughter. Yet there was still a shadow of the person sitting under the cherry tree, even when the girl with him had already left for a while.

Next to him was a crimson mask, which seemed to exude a kind of dangerous and tempting power. But all his attention was on the harmless kitsune mask in his hand. All that happened tonight felt like a dream. Having known the Traveler had come to Inazuma, he still did not expect that she had found him herself, bumping into him among so many people on the street.

He had always wanted to see her again, ever since their farewell in Liyue. He constantly talked about her in letters to his family, as if they were very close friends; perhaps more than friends?

What could he expect, when fate always puts them on different sides of the battle? He fought for what he believes, and she always chose to help those who oppose him. But deep down in him was the desire to see her again, to see her smile at him once more. He wanted to touch her, but feared she would disappear like fireflies.

Therefore, having a walk with her, eating together and watching the fireworks next to her; everything happened tonight was a beautiful dream in the middle of the summer night. Delightful and sweet, yet came and fade away too quickly. After all, at least he knew she still remembered him.

If only she didn't. That way, she would not have to be upset when they meet again, maybe in another battle here in this land. She had hoped that they would see each other again soon, but he'd rather she not knew who was with her tonight.

Tartaglia put down the kitsune mask and picked up his Harbinger mask. He turned his gaze to the sky, praying silently that the stars would remember today for eternity. Then he put on the heavy mask and left.

-----------------------------

Au's note: It's been a while since my last Genshin fic. Hope you guys enjoy this one. I really love Japanese festivals in summer and this piece was inspired by those, and with the in-game activities/ atmosphere too of course!

My Genshin Masterlist: x

#uwu sorry for my rusty writing skills #genshin impact #fanfic #chilumi #childe x lumine #tartaglia x lumine #lumine #childe #tartaglia #genshin impact fanfic #fanfiction

54 notes · View notes

misterewrites · 4 years ago

Text

Cheers from Newton Haven ( Mirror’s Edge)

Hey everyone E here with a surprising amount original works. haha so you can blame my good friend @hains-mae for this because she enabled me. So long story short I love writing. I love creating ideas, story plots, characters all that jazz. Often there's a lot of leftovers that i put away in word document just so I have stuff to work with or ideas i can use later. Most of the time I might write something just to get it out of my system but it usually just ends up gathering dust in my computer.

I've been getting more into modern urban fantasy stories and watching the unsleeping city which is a modern dnd show (highly recommend it. first season's free on youtube over at the dimension 20 channel) and naturally I wanted to write some so here we go.

I don't know how often I'll be writing this because this accidentally became my side project whenever I need a break from the underground but who knows might turn into another big layered project.

so basic summary is there are a group of friends, associates, reluctant allies, organizations and frenemies who work together to keep the peace of the supernatural world in check and to ensure it remains secret to everyone else while living their lives as best as they can. Today's chapter includes Finnrick Drift a private investigator wizard and his best friend Casey Remington, cleric of the hearth

that's it for me. have a great week! stay safe, take care of each other. wear your mask, wash your hands, get the vaccine if you can and I'll see you soon!

and if you wanna an easier place to read and leave me some good old comments or reviews you find the chapter right here https://archiveofourown.org/works/30599756/chapters/75486005

Not gonna lie i promised I’d try to promote myself more and it’s weird. it feels so weird. haha

It was a busy Friday afternoon in Midtown. People in designer named suits and dresses bustled across the sidewalks in all directions, too caught up in last minute phone calls or sudden late night work orders to notice anything else. The buildings that scraped the bottom of the sky were clean with a fresh coat of paint and maintenance, a testimony to the wealth and power that was found here.

So naturally Casey felt as out of place as fish out of water in his purple baseball jersey and black shorts just standing outside some fancy restaurants doors with his friend.

“Finny” Casey started awkwardly, his sea green eyes darting back and forth awkwardly “Any reason we’re out here being creepy? I got a Neighborhood Watch meeting at like 6.”

Finnrick or Finny as Casey referred to him, was no better dress than he was for the environment. A long black trench coat that was more stitching than fabric, a matching frayed faded fedora sitting comfortably on his head. He wore a nice collared dark red shirt tucked in a black vest but even that felt cheap and tacky compared to the thousands of dollars worth of clothing that passed them on the street every second. At least his black dress pants were dark enough to hide the patch up jobs and naturally the only kept squeaky clean were his loafers.

Finnrick sucked on the thin white stick for a moment before speaking up “I’m debating if it’s worth the trouble. I didn’t realize you had a meeting tonight.”

“Well we always meet up on the fifth. You know talking about treaties, clean up jobs, if any undead hordes have been spotted. My birthday cake.”

“Ah shit” Finnrick rubbed the back of his neck sheepishly, his dark brown eyes apologetic “It’s your birthday? Did you want to go? I think I can handle it alone.”

Casey lifted the hat off Finnrick’s head and playfully ruffled his already messy black hair “You getting old Finny. My birthday is the tenth.”

Finnrick waved off his assault “I’m six months younger than you.”

“But” Casey gestured to the smattering of sliver streaks in Finn’s hair “You look older.”

“At least I don’t look like I’m 15. Dude you need a haircut. Everyone here thinks you’re a hippie.”

“A good looking hippie.” Casey gave a dramatic shake, his wavy dark brown hair flowing in the breeze.

The pair burst out laughing, doubling over trying to catch their breath as the business suits eyed them distastefully.

“Alright, let’s get this over with.” Finnrick made his way over, smiles and charm as they approached the doorman.

“Your cigarette sir.” The doorman spoke dully.

Finnrick pulled out the now finished lollipop “Don’t smoke but done anyway.”

The doorman gestured to the nearby trashcan but Finnrick opt to tuck it away in coat pocket. Disgusted but professional, the doorman gave strained smile as he allowed them entry into the building.

Casey nudged Finnrick curiously “Wizards? Warlocks? God not druids.”

“Probably. This is guy doesn’t have an ounce of magic in him but I wouldn’t doubt he’s got some casters on the payroll. Try not to leave anything behind.”

“I’m a freaking walking carpet here!”

“That” Finnrick grinned playfully “Is why you need haircut.”

Casey gave a fake snarl “Shut up and call the elevator.”

Finnrick whistled, amused by the near silence of the opening doors “Such fance. Barely a sound.”

“So what’s the plan?”

Finnrick scratched the little bush of hair he had on his chin thoughtfully “Ask some questions. Probably get no answers. Be threatened more than likely.

Casey cracked the tension in his neck “Think it’s gonna get ugly?”

“Depends on how many witnesses.”

The two made their way to the seventh floor, the elevator smoothly slowing to a stop before the doors opened with a ding. Two burly men in suits were waiting, flanked on either side as they gestured to an empty restaurant dining room.

“The boss will like to speak to you.”

Finnrick and Casey shared a look.

“Sure!” Finnrick beamed cheerfully, patting both the brutes arms as he passed “I was hoping to talk to him anyway.”

The men growled in annoyance but did nothing as Casey and Finnrick made their way to the center talk, unsurprised to find two glasses of wine waiting for them.

“After you” Finnrick joked, pulling out Casey’s chair for him.

Casey gave a mocking smile “Such a gentleman.”

“Only one I bet” Finnrick whispered before taking his seat.

Casey could hear the low hissing of whatever spells were on their chairs being dispelled.

Yep there was going to be trouble.

Casey eyed the room carefully in search for options: The room itself was pretty dark, dark reddish walls with dim lights to set the mood. Most of the tables had been left alone for whatever event this room was scheduled for later with the chairs stacked in the corner. A few feet to their left was the bar, unmanned but well stocked and a window to the outside nearby.

“Well, well, well!” A voice called out from some shadowy part of the room “Who do I have the pleasure of meeting this fine Friday afternoon?”

Finnrick rose to his feet, politely motioning to himself and Casey “My name is Fredrick and this is my friend Charles.”

The man’s hazel eyes shone with suspicion “No last names?”

“Of course” Finnrick grin “But there’s no need for friends, right? We are friends Robert?”

Robert paused, a barely contained rage shimmering just under the surface. His slicked back graying hair and tailored perfect dark blue suit were signs of a precise, irrational control. This was a man that was never told what to do and considered himself above everyone and anyone.

“Of course.” He answered a moment too late. He was not happy. “Of course. What are polite manners among friends?”

“Thanks Bobby!” Finnrick gave a friendly wink before retaking his seat.

Robert fumed but followed Finnrick’s example as a trio of secret service wannabes took their spots across the room: Inhumanly beautiful men with dark suits and shades. Something was off about them but Casey couldn’t put his finger on it.

“What do I owe the pleasure Freddy?” Robert sneered, hoping to see how Finnrick a taste of his own medicine.

“Well Bobby.” Finnrick went on, purposely ignoring the older man’s jab “As you know you have been stealing countless money from your employees.”

Robert chuckled darkly “I am afraid wherever you have been getting this claim is very misinformed. I am a simple, honest businessman.”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Of course. Of course. That’s how you can say that with a straight face. Honest businessman of mundane practices.”

Casey felt his hair on his arm stand on end as the atmosphere in the room tensed. The brutes growled unhappily, the trio of bodyguards shifted uneasily and Robert’s eyes shone with understanding.

“I see.” He spoke simply “You’re from the other side.”

“Naturally.” Finnrick confirmed “No need to peer around the bush, is there?”

“No need at all. It is refreshing for such transparency. You don’t get that often in the world of business.”

“I doubt you give much either Mister Walker.”

“Enough games. What are you doing here? Some kind of union rep for magical freaks? Blackmailing me?”

Finnrick sat up with pride “Private investigator. Building a case against you actually.”

Robert carefully studied both men before him, trying to piece together their plan, their angle.

“Either.” He spoke after a few moments “You have all you need or more than likely you have nothing and you are simply here to smoke me out, hoping I will give you something to use against me.”

Casey felt Finnrick’s hand move underneath the table and a rush of chilly air brushed his leg.

Casey gave a quick nod to let Finn know he understood.

Finnrick cleared his throat “You’re aware of the works of Tolkien Mister Walker?”

Robert was caught off guard “What?”

“Elves.” Finnrick answered with a calming voice “Elves are the most famous of his characters that aren’t humans of course but there’s more: Elves, dwarves...”

“Hob…” Robert began but Finnrick cut him off.

“That’s a legal matter but yes. Wonderfully fantastic creatures.”

Robert narrowed his eyes “And?”

Finnrick leaned in close, smile mocking and cold “I hate when people take advantage of them.”

Robert was a cold, calculating heartless man who was used to being the smartest one in the room. The one who rigged the playing field in his favor, held every ace in his hand and led his prey exactly where he wanted them to be. He played with people before he destroyed their hope. He was the apex predator in the world of business.

It was satisfying to see that swagger and pride drain out of his face.

The businessman went for the button hidden underneath his side of the table, no doubt the switch to trigger the holding spells on Casey and Finnrick’s chairs. Of course Finnrick had dispelled them first chance he got and since the only other caster in the room was Casey, no one else noticed.

Robert’s face was the second most beautiful thing Casey had ever seen (first being Jaime but there was no need to tell her that). The panic, the fear, the utter confusion. Just poetic justice at its finest.

Finnrick shot to his feet with a surprising speed given his unremarkable build. He muttered the words of power, a magical incantation as his hand made the proper gestures to complete the spell.

The shades squad went for their weapons but Finnrick had gotten the drop on all of them. He pulled his hand back, a burning flame sitting peacefully in his palm. He pitched the flame forward, lobbing directly at the closet goon. The inhumanly beautiful man rose his arms to defend himself in time. The flame, mostly pressurized air, splashed over him harmlessly as the force of the attack shoved him back into the wall.

Casey followed Finn’s example. He stood as well (not as quick as his friend), a soft gentle light glowing from his hands. He glanced at the two remaining shades and aimed directly for them. A bolt of pure light burst forth from his palms. One goon got a chest full of holy energy and skidded backwards but the other was ready. He leapt to the side and narrowly avoided the attack as he slid out of sight.

The brutes charged towards the pair, murder in their eyes. Finnrick barely spared them a look as he snapped his finger. The two flames sigils he had imprinted om them when he grabbed their arms ignited, twin fires eating at their sleeves and sending them into a panic.

“What’s the plan?” Casey shouted, sending more holy bolts towards the shades.

“Up and over the counter.” Finnrick answered, tossing another fireball.

Casey quickly made his way closer, prepping to leap over the bar when Finnrick crashed into him, a strange whistling sound piercing his ears one moment then silent the next.

“Over buddy over!” Finnrick repeated, grabbing Casey by the collar and heaving him ontop of the counter. Casey flailed for a moment before glancing backwards. Finnrick was right behind him, hand outstretched as a blue translucent field of protective magic hung before the two while the shades opened fire with crossbows, the jet black bolts barely visible in the dimness of the room. They bounced harmlessly off the barrier but Casey could see the cracks starting to form.

Casey hopped over the bar gracelessly, struggling for a moment before clearing the jump. Finnrick tucked himself backwards, allowing himself to roll over the counter top and land on the other side with a thud.

“Remember when elves were honorable?” Casey huffed, quickly scanning the various bottles.

Finnrick scoffed “They were never honorable. They just acted better than everyone.”

“Remember when we were kids?”

“Vaguely. Pass the absinthe. I want to really make this hurt.”

“Blue bottle? These are all in German and Russian.”

“Green liquid. Come on Case I taught you better.”

“Right. I miss when the cartoons used to tell us the mafia was honorable.”

“Criminals these days.” Finnrick shook his head disappointingly “Just don’t make them like they used to. It’s all corporate shit.”

Casey began picking other bottles at random, wrapping them tightly with the tape he brought “It’s disillusioning I tell you. How right is he?”

Finnrick smashed a pane of glass. He took the jagged edge and slowly inched it over the counter, catching sight of the trio of shades for a moment before a crossbow bolt shattered the glass.

He flexed his hand, trying to relax his muscles. They were elves alright. They might be dressed in suits and ears hidden by some sort of glamour illusion magic but old habits died hard. Elves habits never died given their long lives. The trio had fallen into a close knit triangle formation: one fires, one reloads with the last taking aim.

“He had this whole operation locked tight. No one was talking. Either bribed them or made an example of them. Broken bones or horns. I had enough evidence to implicate him but bringing him to trial in the mundy court was going to be pointless.”

Casey moved the bottles back and forth to ensure they wouldn’t come loose midair “So what are we doing here?”

“Given his limited knowledge and the numerous magical violations I counted in this building alone, I figured he’s not registered with the Council.”

Casey’s eyes lit up in understanding “Gotcha. How long we got?”

Finnrick shook his hand back and forth “I’d say 10 minutes knowing the Council. Magic in an unregistered area requires a subtler approach for them. “

Casey snorted “Fake beards and stilts for the gnomes you mean? Robert will be gone by then.”

Finnrick’s face scrunched in concentration “He’s still here. Cowering under the table. He’s not used to dangerous wizards up in his face. Let’s scare him put huh?”

Casey spared his friend a glance “Big shot?”

Finnrick nodded in agreement “Aim high Case.”

And with a synchronicity only achieved through years of friendship, the two stood up at once. Casey threw the makeshift bomb high into the air as Finnrick formed the magical shield once more. Arrow after arrow bounced harmlessly off its surface as the bottles sailed through the air. Finnrick focused directly in the center of the payload. The shield dropped but the elves had broken formation and were all reloading at once. Finnrick pinched his thumb and finger together, murmuring under his breath. A small spark of flame fluttered wildly on his finger. He flicked it as quickly as he could towards the bottles. The spark spun and twisted as it floated towards the payload. The spark expanded, growing in size, and intensity, rapidly without warning. The air warmed as the spark exploded, smashing the bottles and engulfing the alcohol within. Flaming liquid, glass and hot air shot out in every direction. The elves were blasted off their feet and crashed against the far wall with sickening series of crunches. The floor above now had a massive hole in it and the brutes sprawled across the floor. Robert himself was thrown onto the ground, ash and soot covering his face as he struggled to breath.

He tried to call for someone but his ears were ringing and everyone was down for the count. He tried to search for the trouble makers but the smoke that filled the room was too thick.

The elevator dinged open once more and three pale suits came scuttling out. They clung to the walls on all fours, unnatural and repulsive. Their blood red eyes shone in the dimly light room, their fangs barred and ready for blood.

“Vampires!” Casey rubbed his eyes tiredly “This fucker has vampires. Loose by the way.”

“Right?” Finnrick shook his head “There are just so many regulations being violated right now.”

The vampires did not care. They dropped to the floor, gliding effortlessly midst the smoke and flame.

Casey took a step closer to the encroaching undead. He outstretched one hand towards them while the other clasped his necklace tightly. The vampires tilted their head quizzically at the symbol that adored the chain: It was a house of all things, a simple shape of rectangles and triangles no different than what a child would draw.

The vampires chuckled, their eyes bright with hunger.

Of course in their bloodlust they had forgotten something important: It was not the symbol but the faith behind it that was their bane.

Casey held the symbol as high as he could. The vampire shrunk away from him as his eyes blazed with holy energy, the symbol of home glowing with a harsh light. The vampires barred their fangs as a symphony of noises overwhelmed their senses: the soft hum of an air conditioner, footsteps thundering about, the chill of winter, the heat of summer, the overlapping sounds of cars and buses as the roar of crowds boomed in their ears. The city, the hearth of so many people, filled this room for a moment.

The vampires drew back, white smoking curling off their charring flaky skins. They ducked back into the elevator, hiding in whatever corner they could manage until the doors shut with a satisfying ding.

“Come on” Finnrick gestured to the window “I don’t want to be written up for unauthorized magic in an unregistered area.”

Casey and Finnrick scampered to the window. Casey’s face turned a sickly green when he realized how high up they were.

“Ugh I don’t feel good.” his stomach churned queasily.

Finnrick broke the window with his elbow, the fresh smoggy air of the city bringing some color back into Casey’s cheeks “I know buddy but it’s only eight floors up.”

“I hate you so much right now.”

“Okay cool jump now!”

Robert regained enough sense to see the troublemakers leap out the window without hesitation. He struggled to his feet when flickers of something began to form. Before he knew what was going on, the previously empty room was now filled with various creatures: Elves, dwarves, a gnome on silts had appeared out of thin air. They weren’t dress in any ancient medieval garb but rather dark blue jackets, jeans and combat boots with the initials M.R.R.D stitched on their clothing. They were no different than any one on the street aside their more unique physical features.

“M.R.R.D!” the gnome cried out, brandishing a strange clockwork pistol “Everyone freeze! We sensed a magical disturbance and a violation of the Arcane Veil!”

Robert rose to his full height “I am Robert Walker and I…”

The gnome opened fire and Robert could feel exhaustion overtake him. Sleepiness began to ebb at his resolve and before he could mutter another word, he closed his eyes. A dreamless sleep until he woke up in a council prison cell a few hours later.

-----

Casey didn’t scream as he fell through the air. He was too busy trying to keep his lunch in his stomach.

Finnrick waited a moment to make sure everything was in place and with a wave of his hand, the two began to fall much slower. They landed on their feet as if they had taken a step off the sidewalk instead of several stories up.

Casey began hyperventilating, trying his best to get his stomach settled. Finnrick began fanning his face when a man walked up to him.

Casey and Finnrick said nothing, waiting for the Arcana Veil to fill in any blanks they were missing. They could’ve told this man anything but they found from experience that it was just easier to roll with whatever the magical blanket that separated the mundane world from the magical decided.

The man peered at them, his gaze unsure and confused.

“Hey, you guys okay?” he asked helpfully.

Casey and Finnrick remained silent.

His eyes glazed over for a moment, a strange shimmering sheen within his pupils telling the duo that the veil was in effect.

“You guys are oddly dressed for window washers.” the man chuckled.

Finnrick glanced back to find a ghostly image of an electrically operated scaffold behind them, water buckets and squeegees included.

They shared a look.

“Would you believe it’s national window washer day?” Casey filled in.

Finnrick added “Yeah, they let us wear whatever want today. It’s only one day out of the year anyway and most of the time we work by ourselves so no harm done.”

the man nodded like that was the most reasonable thing he had ever heard “Right sorry. I’ll just be on my way.”

Finnick and Casey ducked out of the alleyway behind him, heads low and nonchalant as the human M.R.R.D members began to shut down the restaurant from the outside.

“Well that sucked.”

“Just a little. Here let’s go some dinner on me.”

“Damn straight on you Finny. Brutes, elves, vampires?”

“Oh my.”

“Now I’m ordering extra bread for that.”

#Original Work #original story #my work #Mirrors edge story

43 notes · View notes

spookyspaghettisundae · 5 years ago

Text

The Lifeblood of the Town

Snowflakes drifted down from a gray twilit sky. Winds carrying a biting cold swept over the looming treetops of the pine trees surrounding this place, causing the canopy to gently sway and crackle and whisper. It had been snowing for days, so the soft white mass caked the parking lot and a drab concrete structure on this artificial clearing.

The only tracks leading here were Rhiannon’s own footprints, drudging through the thick layer of snow that had piled up since her arrival in her old hometown, Evergreen. As she approached this desolate building, the snow crunched underfoot and it was so cold outside that she could not feel her toes in her boots anymore.

No matter how gently the snow fell, it fell without pause. Happy to find shelter in the tunnel-like entrance to the reservoir, she kicked the tips of her boots against the cement ground to knock snow off of them.

She hugged herself and huddled deeper into her black scarf and black down jacket, shivering the very moment she stopped walking. It was not the cold that caused Rhiannon to shiver, but what she saw. Occult symbols written in white chalk upon the darkened concrete wall.

She recognized them.

Before she could appreciate the strangeness inherent in this array of archaic signs, the growl of a car’s engine carried up the hill and across the empty parking lot. Rhiannon stepped deeper into the shadows here, pressing herself up against the wall and hoping to remain unseen by whomever it was who neared.

One of the sheriff department’s vehicles rolled around the curve and onto the parking lot with a painful slowness. The chains on its wheels propelled it forth with steady progress and the snow parted in front of it until the car came to a stop.

Rhiannon squinted and then recognized the man getting out of the vehicle to be Josh. He put on a cap with fuzzy earflaps and slammed the door shut behind him, then rubbed his hands together, blowing warm air into the hollow between them and repeating the rubbing with more vigor. Meanwhile, his gaze trailed after Rhiannon’s tracks, leading right up to the reservoir’s entrance.

She swore underneath her breath and stepped out of the shadows, still hugging herself and waiting for him to approach. Approaching, he raised a reddened hand in greeting and cracked a nervous smile, more courtesy than genuine as it did not quite reach his eyes.

Once he was within earshot, she asked him, “Can I help you?”

He continued without approaching and the smile faded from his face. He winced and looked Rhiannon up and down.

He cleared his throat and then asked, “Ryan Walker? Is that really you?”

“Fuck you,” she said in response to him deadnaming her.

Josh stopped in his tracks and his face fell, taken aback by the sharply-worded reply. She sighed in frustration, regretting her knee-jerk reaction because she had, after all, just insulted the deputy. When she had arrived in town the day before, the sheriff already implied that he was just looking for any reason to arrest her.

“Hey, uh, I’m sorry. Sheriff said something about—somethin’, you know—and uh, I wasn’t sure,” Josh stammered. “Uh, shit. I’m really sorry, I don’t know how—y'know—this whole LGBT stuff.”

They had last seen each other over twenty years ago and he retained none of the arrogance and confidence that he used to have as one of the jocks; none of that contempt that he and the other White Wolves players and cheerleaders used to ooze when they looked down on her and her small clique of friends from back then. Rhiannon could feel her own eyes go wide with surprise at seeing him like this.

She decided to let him off the hook because his sputtering of words and what she felt were sincere attempts at apologizing.

“I’m Rhiannon now.”

Josh swallowed and asked, “So, Rhiannon Walker?”

“Yeah.”

“Again, I’m sorry,” Josh repeated with the word trailing off.

“Never mind.”

They stood there for another moment, eyes locked in the awkward silence. Josh stood out in the middle of the snowfall and it began to cover his cap and shoulders in white powder.

“Uh, okay, so. I think you should leave,” he said, rubbing the back of his neck.

“Excuse me?”

“Yeah, uh, the reservoir has been off-limits to the public ever since that incident a couple o’ years back. I can drive you back down to the hotel, or wherever you need to go.”

He flashed another smile, with more genuine light about it this time.

“I don’t think so.”

And there went the smile again.

Rhiannon took a deep breath. She decided she was going to level with him here. Either he was in on things and she would get into real trouble now, or he was just the kind of unexpected ally that she needed.

“Listen, Josh? Surely you’ve noticed that there’s something wrong about this town, right?”

“Uh,” he began, swallowing whatever he had wanted to say. He hooked his thumbs into his pockets. “What do you mean?”

“Complaints about a naked man wearing a severed horse’s head chasing people out of Lakeview Hotel, rumors of people disappearing from the hospital for brief periods of time without memory of whatever happened, sightings of UFO-like lights up here over the reservoir, and people disguised as the homeless dancing with shopping carts on parking lots by night?”

The blood drained from his face. Either he knew something more, or hearing her bluntly summarize these strange things struck a chord with him.

“Okay. Sure. I mean, every town’s gotta have weird stuff—weird stories like that, right? What about it?”

Rhiannon hugged herself tighter as the cold was seeping into her bones and her fingers tingled with numbness, despite having escaped the wind by stepping into the reservoir’s entrance.

“I’m investigating because I have reason to believe that someone who lives in town is going to commit a murder soon. And I’m going to stop that from happening,” Rhiannon said with a fiery confidence.

“What?”

“You heard me.”

“How—why do believe to know about this upcoming murder? Who?”

She bit her lip and said, “You wouldn’t believe me if I told you.”

He shook his head, his brow furrowed. His almost endearing nervousness had vanished from his voice when he said, “Not good enough. Humor me.”

Now Rhiannon was getting nervous. She decided to give him a more rationalized rendition of Alethea’s theory.

“My friends and I got a letter from Harry—or rather, someone posing as him. It said that someone was gonna die in the shower room at the high school reunion party.”

Josh’s eyes narrowed and pierced into her own, and she found it impossible to read his expression now.

Rhiannon reached out to her side and tapped a black-painted fingernail against the white chalk markings on the wall.

“These are occult symbols,” she said.

Breaking eye contact and squinting to discern what she was pointing out, he finally stepped closer, exiting the incessant snowfall outside the reservoir’s entrance and sidling up beside her within the tunnel-like area. Producing a small flashlight from one of his zippered jacket pockets, he clicked it on and shone it upon the wall.

The cone of light swept back and forth, and Rhiannon closely followed his face to see if he might be pretending to be oblivious about everything. Still impossible to determine.

“What on earth is—what do they mean?”

Rhiannon had not had much time to decipher them herself before he arrived and her curiosity was enkindled once more. She snatched the flashlight from Josh’s hand and they exchanged an awkward stare that lingered for far too long.

Then she used the flashlight’s glow to read the symbols in sequence.

He scratched at the line of one of the symbols and muttered, “Pretty new, like they were drawn not too long ago.”

“Sleep and obey,” Rhiannon said.

“Huh?”

“That’s what they mean, in a nutshell. Ijjisar, Moratar, Kherevar. Old Mesopotamian necromancy, used in ancient rituals. That is, if I’m remembering these correctly.”

“Okay, but what does any of that mean?”

Rhiannon shook her head and sighed in frustration, “Wish I remembered. Didn’t think to bring my fucking library of occult books when I decided to come back to this shitty town.”

Josh took the flashlight back out of her hand and she let him. He clicked it off again.

With rising fervor, Rhiannon said, “I think there’s a weird cult in this town. I think there always has been, and I think the letter about the murder is serious. I also think that there might be clues to the cult, or the murder, or something up here. So you should either arrest me now or do your fucking job and help me get to the bottom of this.”

She grabbed the flashlight back from his hand and switched it back on, shining down the tunnel, where a deep suffocating darkness swallowed the light.

Josh emitted a stifled groan. “You’re a civilian, for fuck’s sake.” In the absence of any response from her and Rhiannon just glaring at him, he groaned without restraint. “I see there ain’t gonna be any way of talkin’ you outta this.” He licked his lips and added, “Wait here.”

Waddling back through the snow, he went over to his car and—much to Rhiannon’s surprise—retrieved a shotgun from the passenger seat. He then switched on a flashlight mounted onto the firearm and returned to join her in the reservoir’s entrance.

“So, why this place?”

Rhiannon pondered his question for a moment and went ahead, walking deeper into the bowels of this concrete building. The rapping of her boot’s heels reverberated with a headache-inducing loudness. Josh sped up his pace until he caught up and walked by her side, shining the light on his shotgun down the corridor.

“Do you believe in the supernatural?” she asked.

“Can’t say I really—nah.”

She shone her flashlight into his face and caused him to wince and blink, then he shot her a dirty look.

“Lemme give you a crash course in ritual magick and symbolic tension,” she said. “Whether you believe in it having any real effect or not, a common principle underlying all magick is that specific associations give it its power.”

Without the constant cold breeze outside, it almost felt warmer in this corridor, gently sloping down beneath their feet. A strange smell in the air made Rhiannon’s nostrils flare. It reminded her of stale sweat, like the locker rooms in Evergreen High.

“Sorry, I think you lost me there.”

The echoes of water dripping mingled with the sounds of them walking through the corridor.

“Well, to use some cliché examples, think of things like—I don’t know—a virgin’s blood. It represents purity and youth, so occultists would try using it in rituals or potions meant to cleanse or rejuvenate. Or, take ravens. They’re carrion birds and associated with death, so it wasn’t uncommon for some mystics to rattle around some raven bones and throw them like dice to read the emerging patterns—to make sense of what ghosts were trying to tell them.”

“Oh. Okay, I think I get what you mean.”

They reached the end of the tunnel as it opened up into the yawning darkness of a larger hall, wide enough that the light from their flashlights barely reached the opposite end. A padlocked fence stopped them from progressing, but beyond that was a metal ladder descending onto a concrete walkway that circled around a pool of water in the hall’s center.

Another tunnel at the end of the hall beckoned her in this darkness. It called out to her, luring her in with promises of answers—and warning her of terrible danger that crept in its depths.

Josh fumbled with a key ring and unlocked the fence so they could step closer to the ladder.

Rhiannon asked without expecting an answer, “So what’s this reservoir in terms of symbolic tension?”

“The lifeblood of the town,” Josh said before she could answer her own question. Better than what she had had in mind.

She shot him another glance without shining the light at him, surprised and impressed by how quickly he had caught on.

“That’s why symbols translating to ‘sleep’ and 'obey’ should be all the more concerning,” she said. “Because it really gives off a vibe of—”

“Poisoning the well.”

Their gazes met for a few moments, a twinkle of recognition in them. Rhiannon began to worry again if he had not in fact been playing dumb up until now. If anybody was secretly part of some cult controlling the town, who better than one of its lawmen to cover things up?

“Yeah.”

The water sloshed at the end of the hall. Both Rhiannon and Josh jerked their lights around and trained them on the source of the sound. The surface rippled with motion; something had moved there.

“Hello? Deputy Joshua Halloway, here. I’m gonna need you to identify yourself.”

Rhiannon’s heart pounded so hard against the inside of her rib cage that she wondered if Josh could hear it. They stared in anticipation of an answer, but deep down she knew that there would be no reply.

A cold sweat broke out underneath her jacket and the hairs on the back of her neck stood up, and even deeper down she knew exactly that there was nobody there.

She had to know. She had to get to the bottom of all of this for her friends. And for Harry. She owed it to her best friend—her dead friend.

She bit onto the flashlight and started climbing down the ladder.

Josh hissed, “Hey, where do you—what do you think—are you nuts?”

Rhiannon continued down until she took first careful steps onto the narrow walkway around the pool. The ripples had subsided and the water’s surface had calmed again.

Josh swore out loud and followed her down the ladder. “Hold up. I don’t know how I’m gonna explain any of this if anything happens to you down here.”

Rhiannon’s mind kept circling back and forth between the worry of what might be lurking in these watery tunnels and whether or not Josh might be part of the cult—that she was far removed from any help should he be ready to use that gun on her. She began to regret not taking the switchblade Danielle had offered her when they had met today.

Arriving at the bottom of the ladder, Josh called out into the oppressive darkness again, “Hello?”

Rhiannon thought she heard a distant scratching sound, so faint that she struggled to believe it had been real. But the glance that she and Josh exchanged told her that it was not just her imagination.

“You should stay behind me,” he whispered to her.

Part of her wanted to object out of habit, but she conceded, feeling somewhat relieved at the offer. Josh was a full head taller and armed, appeared to still be in as good shape as he used to be in his youth, and having him walk in front of her not only meant that he could fend off whoever might be lurking down here, but also suggested he wasn’t going to shoot her in the back.

Taking care not to fall into the pool, he used caution to side-step around Rhiannon while facing her. The walkway was so narrow that he brushed past her, causing her to feel his breath against her forehead and the fabric of their jackets to rustle.

Feeling a bit ashamed, heat shot into her cheeks but he had already gone ahead of her and luckily could not witness her turn red in the face.

Advancing steps ahead, he peered over his shoulder and nodded to her, “I’ve seen a map of the tunnels here. Please stay close—this place turns into a fucking maze in no time.”

Rhiannon affirmed that with a subtle sound from behind lips tightly pressed together, and snapped out of her brief daze. She sped up until she was within arm’s reach of Josh again.

They ended up both shining their lights onto an arrow, drawn onto the wall with white chalk. It pointed down a side-tunnel that branched off to their left.

“You think that's—”

“Yeah,” she interrupted him. “Just—just a feeling.”

Josh continued on, nudging with his foot a metal grate that crossed over the water, connecting the walkways on both sides. Once he seemed satisfied, he walked across it and Rhiannon followed.

Without turning around, he asked, “How do you know so much about occult stuff?”

She decided against freaking him out. Dumping the whole truth-bomb on him just seemed counterproductive at this point.

“I studied a lot of books on the matter in my free time.”

“And what do you do for a living, if I may ask?”

“You may not.”

He stopped and she almost bumped into him. Josh looked back at her, his face contorted with confusion. She grinned from ear to ear.

“Kidding,” she said and dropped the grin, immediately tired at the thought that followed, and she added, “I work two retail jobs.”

“Oh,” Josh said, the disappointment in his voice dragging his tone down. “You were so good in school, I thought—”

“Nah, but the rest of the Losers Club turned out way better than me.”

Her emphasis on that moniker, “Losers Club,” forced a shadow to pass over his face. He broke eye contact to stare into the water between the walkways.

“Hey, for what it’s worth, I’m sorry we used to be such shitheads to you back in high school.”

Rhiannon cringed a bit at some unpleasant memories welling up and batted them down the second they arose.

“Let’s not dwell on it.”

They continued on in silence, though unnerving sounds echoed through the tunnels, drowning in the atmosphere of water trickling and flowing and dripping everywhere. A scratch here, a snapping sound there; it became hard to focus on any single source of noise.

Josh chuckled, “Probably just rodents or cats or whatnot down here. Nothing to be afraid of.”

He had said it all with such a flatness that it exuded no confidence whatsoever.

“Who said I’m afraid?”

She had meant to say that jokingly, but blurted it out with a sharpness that either came across as offended or on edge.

“I think I’m mostly speakin’ to myself. This place is givin’ me the creeps,” he admitted.

Rhiannon said with some song in her voice, “Nothing bad ever happened in dark tunnels filled with water.” She hoped that taking things with humor would dispel the tendrils of dread wrapping themselves around her lungs, clamping down and shortening each breath she took.

“Yeah, you’d think there’d be more horror movies about this, huh?”

After both their nervous chuckles died down, the eerie ambient of the water tunnels engulfed them once more, underlined by the echoing strikes of their feet against the concrete ledges. They continued on, discovering more arrows drawn with white chalk. And following them.

Like lab rats.

“So, you said you saw a map of this place—”

“Been years, though. We were supposed to go looking for a lost kid down here, but it turned out to be a prank. Brat had been home all along, just when I had started studying the map.”

“How big is this place?” Rhiannon asked, emphasizing it with a degree of disbelief, as she felt lost despite the arrows they had been following.

“Huge. Ridiculously huge. Spans the entire town.”

“What?”

“Yeah, like a network parallel to the sewer system.”

“Shouldn’t it just be, like, pipelines?”

“You’d think so, but this place was built really early on when the town was founded. Eighteen-hundred-something. Iron shortage made them get creative back then. Only reason it’s the way it is now is because they insisted on maintaining the tunnels and renovating them with concrete.”

“How do you know all this?”

“Book on the town’s history, in the local library.”

“Look who’s the bookworm now,” Rhiannon quipped.

“There’s not a lot to—”

The sentence died in Josh’s mouth and both of them froze. Something sloshed through the water. The echoes of splashing and gurgling came from everywhere, bouncing off the walls. Both of their flashlights frantically flitted about, trying to spot anything ahead of them.

When they shone their lights behind them, Rhiannon gasped. Both shaking cones transfixed on something black, hairy, and wet, sticking a few inches out of the stream of water. She could not tell what she was looking at.

Only that a set of pitch-black eyes stared back at them. Water bubbled in front of it, as if the thing was exhaling underwater.

It drifted closer, and Rhiannon backed up, bumping into Josh. He pushed past her and aimed his gun at the thing in the water.

“What the fuck?” he exclaimed.

The water exploded and something huge leapt from it at them. Rhiannon’s ears rang and her mind only retroactively registered the deafening shot Josh had fired, the disgusting wet sound it had caused on impact, and the horrific growl that this creature emitted.

Josh yelled—first in anger, then howling in pain. His foot slipped into the water and with a splash, he crashed into the cold wet. The thing followed and they began thrashing in the water, splashing and spraying Rhiannon.

An awful stench permeated the air, reeking of garbage left out on a sunny day or the smell of vomit that Rhiannon came to associate with an eating disorder she hoped to have put behind her.

Terror paralyzed her. She wanted to help Josh, but pictured being ripped apart the moment she sank into the water. She wanted to run away, but could not abandon him.

He sputtered and clung to the walkway for a split second before something pulled him under, then he bobbed back up. His forehead had turned dark—with blood? He gasped and shouted something incomprehensible. Then she winced at the click-clack of the shotgun being pumped, and covered her ears before the next loud bang erupted in the tunnels.

This time, the creature howled, gurgled, and submerged again. Rhiannon’s light danced all over the place, trying to make out what she was seeing. Coming to her senses, she found the clarity to bite down on the light again and grab onto Josh’s arm with both her hands, helping him clamber back out of the water and onto the walkway.

That thing—did it have a beak? More than four limbs? Was it really covered in hair, or in feathers? She stared more at the cold darkness where she had last seen it disappear than she did at Josh, curling her fingers into his jacket.

“Are you okay?” she asked him, without even giving him a look.

He brushed her off and swiveled with the gun pointing it back and forth and looking for any motion in the water.

From the corner of her eye, she now noticed that his jacket was torn—shredded—and dark red liquid slowly pulsed its way out of it. A crimson sheen coated the left side of his face. Whatever pain he must have been in, the adrenaline pumping through his veins had to be masking it.

The water bubbled, this time several steps away. Something slimy and hairy and pitch-black rose from it again, like a panther rearing back to pounce.

“Run,” Josh said. Then he repeated it as a shout, booming with authority.

Survival instinct kicked in, pumping that adrenaline and driving her to dash and jog and stumble and run away. She gripped a corner, scraping her palm on the rough cement, turning down into another tunnel, the metal grate underneath her boots clanking as she crossed to another walkway, always following the white chalk-mark arrows until she passed multiple branches without any further markings.

With the drum of her heartbeat blotting out most minor noises and her will to live stamping out every other thought, Rhiannon failed to realize how long she had been escaping without ever looking back to see what had happened to Josh. Which she did now, stopping to catch her breath and look behind her.

Just in time for another loud gunshot to echo through the tunnels, prompting her to continue running.

The darkness continued to swallow the light wherever she shone it ahead, never revealing any end to these endless corridors. That is, until she recognized the zigzag of steps; a set of stairs that led upwards. Waves of relief washed over her as she discovered an end to this tunnel. An escape.

The walkways on both sides just ended here, connecting and giving a few paces of space before the stairs began.

She jogged up the steps, heart still pounding and her lungs aching for oxygen.

Every sense of relief died instantly and the despair of helplessness made her body tremble as she stepped deeper into this room. It was empty and without windows or exits.

A dead end.

The whole place reeked of mold. As she scanned it with her flashlight, she found it was not completely empty. An odd assortment of metal objects were arranged in a perfect circle on the floor in this room’s center. An old lighter, mirror, pocket watch, knife, nails, screws, and other items caked in dust and in varying stages of rust and decay.

In their midst stood a pile of dust. Or ashes. As Rhiannon took a cautious step towards this circle, she knew in her gut that it was the product of some occult ritual. It all rang a bell—a really distant bell, like she had seen it before—but a bell not loud enough for her to recognize its meaning.

Next to the circle was a tiny crumpled up box. She nudged it with the tip of her boot and it flipped over, allowing her to read some letters despite the dust and grime obscuring them. Her mind filled in the masked letters and it spelled: Valium Diazepam.

Still breathing heavily from running all this way, the pile of dust dispersed once she had reached the edge of the circle, scattering in all directions like a tiny black cloud trying to flee. The urge to sneeze tickled her nose but she suppressed it, dreading the thought of that thing—that creature—hearing her here.

Water sloshed.

Rhiannon froze.

Water sloshed again, coming from behind her. From the tunnel she had just come from.

But closer, now.

With haste, she grabbed the rusty knife off the ground and switched off her flashlight, inching back towards the wall next to the entrance to this dead end room.

She waited there, expecting more sounds to reveal the creature approaching, though nothing came. She held her breath, causing her lungs to rebel and her nostrils to flare even more desperately for air than they had during her run.

Her eyes never adjusted to the blanket of shadows that enveloped her. Because there was no light whatsoever. She could only see the spots she would see when closing her eyes. It dawned on her that she had never found herself in such a pure darkness.

Water sloshed and something big and heavy emerged from it. Dripping, slapping, scraping, and thumping. And that foul stench of vomit was back, wafting up those stairs.

The thing waited. If it needed to breathe, it made no such sound. Instead, water continued to drip from its massive body. Rhiannon’s mind struggled to see it as something hairy or feathered. Something standing on hind legs or on all fours.

It growled.

With wet sounds like bags of meat slapping down onto the concrete steps, it began climbing the stairs. On all fours. Or six limbs?

Rhiannon’s lungs screamed and she felt like her chest was about to explode.

The thing moved right next to her and stopped, blocking her only way out. Water continued to drip and she fought the urge to throw up. However awful it had smelled before, up close was even worse. She could taste the bile coming up and hoped it could not hear a peep as her body convulsed with the motions that heralded retching.

“Rhiannon?” shouted Josh from the tunnels. The pitch made him sound terrified and desperate—and hurt.

Beside her, something scraped against the ground, like claws. Long, sharp claws. The thing turned and left, going back down the stairs with ferocious and unexpected speed, scratching and growling and then splashing back into the water inside the tunnel.

Finally, she allowed herself to breathe again, though the fear strangled it, making each intake short and flat and rendering her lightheaded.

She waited, still trying her best to control her breath, listening out for anything. Anything at all. But other than the sounds of water dripping and flowing down the tunnel, she heard neither sign of the creature nor of Josh.

Rhiannon decided to hold onto the knife for now, and blindly groped her way along the wall, too afraid to switch her light back on. She stuffed Josh’s flashlight into her pocket and used her empty hand to find her way by sense of touch, in fear of the knife’s blade scraping against the walls and attracting the creature to her location.

She descended the stairs and returned to the tunnel, continuing on without seeing where she was going.

She reminded herself to keep going right until she found her way back out. The solution to any maze. At a snail’s pace, she went on like this for minutes that felt like hours. Every second felt like an eternity, every moment dilated by her imagination of the creature’s sudden return.

Every now and then, she stopped and listened. Every drip of water made her body stiffen with fear, expecting a flurry of them to follow as a sign of the creature climbing back out of the water to attack her.

But nothing came.

“Rhiannon?” Josh whispered from the darkness.

Her fingers trembled until they connected with his and he gripped her hand. Icy cold, colder than her own. Cold like death. She gripped it harder and was never happier to hold anybody’s hand than now.

“Thank God you’re alright,” he said in an exasperated sigh. “I think I know where we are. The hospital’s gotta be above us here somewhere, and—a ladder.”

He tugged—a gentle tug. They snuck through the tunnels without light.

The space between their hands was wet and it took minutes for Rhiannon to realize that it was not the residue of cold water on Josh’s skin, but something warmer. And sticky.

His grip weakened.

—Submitted by Wratts

6 notes · View notes

lalainajanes · 6 years ago

Note

“listen, you’re a big bad vampire with huge pointy teeth, you’re scary, I know. I’m totally shaking in my pants. and i get im not supposed to be trespassing over your nest grounds, but all i need is one measly tooth for a spell and ill be right on my way, alright? yes—yes i know you can kill me, so can a cat if it truly wanted to, but im here on business so can we act like adults”

From this list I reblogged ages ago (and also sent to my by @lynyrdwrites and an Anon!).

Felled By You

Caroline’s about two feet down in the grave, filthy, withaching shoulders and raw palms, when she hears the first rustling in the trees.She stops digging, holds her breath. Strains her ears. Reaches behind her back,slowly, and tugs out the gun she’s got tucked away in her waistband.

She doesn’t drop the shovel. On the off chance that it’s awerewolf who’s wandered far from their territory she’ll have better luck usingblunt force rather than a wooden bullet.

Killing a vampire would upset the uneasy peace that thesupernatural species that call New Orleans home have lived under for the lastfew months. Caroline doesn’t relish doing it but, with her best friend’s lifeon the line, she’d come armed. She’d gone alone, to the cemetery where vampiresbury their dead. She’d planned on committing a grave robbing. Only a moronwouldn’t have prepared for trouble.

On the drive over she’d methodically catalogued all thingsthat could go wrong. Now, with a gun in one hand, her other ready to swing theshovel, she goes down the list. Best case scenario, it’s just an animal huntingup a late dinner. Even if it’s a human she can deal with the interruptionfairly easily. She just doesn’t relish having to.

Bonnie’s getting sicker, the poison she’d ingested weakeningher heart by the hour. Caroline can’t afford the minutes it would take to subduea late night power walker or some drunk who’d wandered away from a bonfire. Shecould manage it easily. It’s one ofher specialties, spells to remove memories or impart her will. It’s a trickybranch of magic, requiring concentration and delicacy, and Caroline can’t riskweakening herself.

Most of her coven is gathered with Bonnie, pooling theirenergy to sustain hers. Caroline and a handful of others had left to gather theingredients to save her. When Caroline gets back she will insist on performingthe ritual herself. She doesn’t anticipate much opposition. Few in her covenare a match for her power.

Caroline wants tobelieve the threat to Bonnie came from outside the coven. But, until she can becertain, she’s not about to let her friend’s life rest in anyone’s hands buther own. Witches with regular access to Bonnie, those that came and went freelyfrom her home, shared food and drinks regularly, are the most likely suspects.

When Bonnie’s recovered, capable of seeking retribution,it’ll be time to hunt for snakes.

A sharp crack sounds, a stick breaking under the weight of afoot.

So much for optimism.

Caroline drops the shovel and spins, using two hands tosteady the gun, her finger resting on the trigger. She’s a damn good shot,thanks to her mother, is confident she can manage to get the heart even if avampire uses maximum speed.

Except, when she sees who the vampire is, she hesitates. Sherecognizes Klaus instantly, despite the darkness. She’d gotten to know hisface, the slash of his cheekbones and the strength of his jawline, in astrobe-lighted club that her coven elders would be appalled to know she went toregularly. They’d never really spoken, just exchanged the a few necessaryshouted words – a need for a drink or the bathroom or to call it a night.

She’d known how he tasted, what his skin felt like when itwas damp with sweat. She’d felt the rumble of a moan caught in his throatagainst her lips, bitten his shoulder when he’d slipped his hand under herskirt and coaxed her to orgasm with gifted fingertips.

What she hadn’t known was his name. Or his species. Hadn’toffered any information about herself. The club had been an escape, a time whenshe didn’t have to be William Forbes’ only daughter, where no one expectedanything of her.

Had been.

She’s been avoiding the place since she’d found out the guyshe’d been regularly groping on the dance floor was the hybrid who’d declaredhimself King of New Orleans.

Relaxing her guard at the sight of him, the little rush ofpleasure she feels, is instinct, a terribleone, but by the time Caroline’s brain catches up Klaus is right in front ofher, his hand locked around her wrist.

She’s so pissed at herself, at her stupid body that’scertain he’s not going to hurt her.

His grip on her is firm but not punishing. He smiles, justas fond as he’d been before he’d known her identity, and squeezes gently, “Minddropping the weapon? I think we need to have a chat.”

She sighs, does as he asks. “It’s plain ‘ol oak. Wouldn’t doanything to you anyway.”

“I assure you, digging a bullet out of one’s flesh isunpleasant no matter what it’s made of.”

Caroline wants to ask when he’d been shot, has a few darkthoughts for the probably long dead perpetrators. Has to remind herself, again,that he’s not an ally. Not hers, in any way. She forces a smile, thin and fake,“Aw, poor baby. Somehow I’m not at all surprised people want to shoot you.”

The noise he makes seems like genuine amusement and he’sstill touching her, his thumb stroking over her forearm. “Now, now, Caroline.I’ve gathered plenty of stories about you and not a single one paints you as aliar. Let’s not pretend you’ve never enjoyed my company.”

“Maybe because you didn’t talk.”

He’s still annoyingly unoffended. His free hand lifts to herface, a fingertip touching her forehead. “You’ve got a bit of dirt here.”

Caroline snorts, rubs at her forehead with the sleeve on thearm that’s not currently in his grasp. “I’m betting it’s more than a bit andnot confined to one area of my face.”

He steps back, finally dropping her hand. Caroline refusesto be disappointed that he’s no longer touching her. He bends to pick up herdropped shovel, spears the tip of it into the earth with annoyingly littleeffort. He leans on it, the picture of idleness, glancing around curiously,“True. Grave digging is an awfully messy endeavour. Difficult to do solo aswell.”

“Wow. That’s really unsubtle fishing.” She crosses her armsto gain a little distance. At least until she’s totally committed to ignoringthe pull of him.

“It’s not fishing. Merely a statement of fact.” He pusheshis sleeves up and Caroline averts her eyes. More of his skin on display canonly up his appeal. “Did you want a hand?”

“Why would you help me? I’m trespassing. Shouldn’t you betrying to rip out my heart?”

“You can’t think I want you dead.”

In her gut, she doesn’t. He’s had plenty of opportunity tohurt her.

Caroline wishes she wasn’t standing in a shallow gravebecause being this close to him is making her skin itch. She’d like to blame iton the layer of grime she’s sporting but it’s not an uncomfortable feeling. It’santicipatory. Needful, egged on by the memories of their bodies movingtogether.

Totally inappropriate given just who he is.

She’s got a mission, an important one; she can’t afford tobe distracted.

Caroline decides to be direct. “I need a tooth. One thatbelonged to a vampire.”

He nods, does not appear at all surprised. “For your friendthat’s been poisoned.”

He shouldn’t know that.

“You…” she’s shaking with rage, accusations and insultstangling on her tongue. Her magic gathers, lashes out, not entirely in hercontrol. Klaus grunts when it hits him, his face contorting in pain. He shouldbe screaming, on his knees, trying to tear apart his own skull to stop thepain.

He’s old and strong but a small part of her is hesitant to hurthim, and that gives him a small window to move. He manages to stagger forward,into her. Caroline trips over the loose dirt behind and her concentration isbroken. They both begin to go down, Klaus manages to grip her closer. A twistof his hips had them landing on their sides, his arm under her head and hisbody taking most of the impact.

He recovers first, is smart enough to get her under him,pinning her hands before she can attempt, however futilely, to claw his prettyblue eyes out. Caroline’s viciously pleased when he speaks, sounding just atouch out of breath, “It’s not what you think.”

“Oh?” Caroline bites out, trying to use her feet to gainsome leverage, “You have no idea what I think.”

“I didn’t poison your friend.”

“Like you’d admit that.”

He tangles their legs together, pinning her easily. His eyesremain human still, no hint of fangs visible. “I’m not here to stop you fromsaving her.”

That stills her. The weight of him eases as she stopsstruggling to glare up at Klaus suspiciously, “Then how could you possibly knowBonnie’s sick if you didn’t do it?”

“I have an eyes and ears in every coven in this city,sweetheart.”

Well, that’s believable. Alarming but Caroline adds it toher list of things to worry about later. “Why would you tell me that?”

“Because I’d like you to trust me.”

She’s too shocked to search for the lie, can’t manage tohide her reaction. Sputters a bit, when she replies, “You’re a vampire. The original hybrid. I’m a witch.”

His lips twist and if he even thinks about needling her forstating the blindingly obvious she’s going to toss another aneurysm at him.

He takes his time in answering, rolling them to the sideonce more. He lets her wrists free but one of his hands comes to rest on herhip. He crowds closer, his forehead resting against hers like he’s imparting asecret. “I knew exactly who you were the night we met. I assumed you knew who Iwas.”

“What?” she exclaims, “why would I have…” Caroline’s handlifts, fingers fluttering in a vague gesture that doesn’t even begin toencompass how intimate their bodies have been.

“Your father might have been notoriously anti vampire but plentyof witches are not. Some of the more… mercantile spirited mingle for financialgain. Others make personalconnections.”

It’s ridiculous but a flash of jealousy burns. “I reallydidn’t need to know that you’ve spent a thousand years boning every witch whobatted their eyes in your direction.”

This time he does laugh, and they’re pressed close enoughthat Caroline can feel his body shake with it. “It’s gratifying to know you’venot managed to convince yourself to hate me, love.”

“You’re lucky I need to conserve my magic,” Carolinegrumbles. And also that she doesn’t wanthis brain to leak out of his eardrums but he doesn’t need to know that.

“Your friend Bonnie, for instance, has been keeping companywith my brother for months.”

She bites back another shrill noise of surprise, shoving athis chest. Caroline knows about Bonnie’s vampire boyfriend (boyfriends, technically) but she hadn’twheedled out the truth of their identities. Plus, she’d only found out recentlyand has been sworn to secrecy. “I’m going to need you to stop talking.” She needsa second or two to process.

Klaus doesn’t try to stop her when she draws away. He getsto his feet, offers her his hand. “Shall I dig?”

She allows him to help her up, eyeing him warily. She flexesher stinging palms. “If you don’t mind. I should have brought gloves.”

He grabs her hands, expression growing stormy as he turnsher palms up. They’re red, blistered, and he makes a noise that conveys hisdispleasure as inspects them. “You should have mentioned you were hurt,” hesays, his tone lecturing.

“It’s nothing.” She tries a joke, “Just my fragile mortalbody protesting manual labor.”

His glance up is entirely unamused. “We’ll have to bandagethese as soon as we’re done here.”

She doesn’t get a chance to protest, to remind him thatshe’s on a time crunch, because he turns and whistles sharply. Three bodiesmaterialize out of the trees and Caroline freezes as she assesses the threat. “They’rewith me,” Klaus murmurs, and she notices that each man, vampire or maybe hybrid,carries a shovel.

“They’ve been here this whole time?”

“Waiting for my signal.”

So, even when she’d attacked him with her power, they hadn’tmoved against her. “Why are you helping me?” Caroline blurts.

He leans in, his lips just brushing her ear, speaks quietlyenough that she’s probably the only one who can hear him, “I do believe I’vealready answered that question.”

He moves away before she can question him, swiftly enoughthat when her hands reach for them they close on nothing. He notices though,glancing back at her with a pleased little smirk as he strips off his jacket. Caroline’shands fall, clenching into fists at her sides.

She half expects the smug jerk to strip his shirt off too.Is a little disappointed when he doesn’t.

Klaus directs the vampires he’d brought with a few flicks ofhis hand, grabs her discarded shovel and digs in. She takes a few big stepsback as dirt starts to fly, “I have to take the tooth myself.” It’s a conditionof the ritual.

Klaus pauses, glancing up at her, “I trust you broughtpliers?”

“Duh.” She fishes them out of her pocket, holding them up asproof.

He nods approvingly, “Good. We’ll be just a few minutes.”

Klaus returns to his task. She considers looking away, knowsshe probably shouldn’t be ogling him. Not when she’s still not sure if she cantrust his motivations.

He wants her to trust him, but why?

Caroline grabs the bag she’d discarded earlier, pulls abottle of water from it. She drinks as she watches them, impressed at the rapiddeepening of the hole she’d labored over. They slow once they hit bone,discarding the shovels and using their hands. Caroline figures she’s up againwhen the three vampires climb out and head back the way they’d come.

Klaus beckons her over, a skull in his hand. “They’ll coverit up again when we leave.”

“Your help is well trained.”

“They’re hybrids. Brand new.”

Her brows lift in surprise, “You agreed not to make any morehybrids.”

“Actually, what I agreed, was that I would not turn an unwilling werewolf.”

Caroline hadn’t been directly involved in those negotiationsbut she’s not surprised Klaus Mikaelson had crafted himself a loophole. “And howexactly did you find willing werewolves?”

“Rather easily, actually.” She expects him to elaborate buthe doesn’t, holding the skull out. She squints down at it, “Does your spellspecify what type of tooth you need?”

“I don’t think so. I have someone working on a more precisetranslation so I thought I’d grab a few just to be safe.”

“Best get to work then.”

The skull is steady in his hands, his grip solid when sheyanks, providing enough resistance for her to work the more stubborn teeth out.He’s mostly quiet, lets her move his hands as needed. Caroline pockets theteeth carefully, reminds herself that she’s doing this for Bonnie whenever ascrape of a crunch of bone leaves her cringing. When she’s satisfied she’s gotwhat she needs (plus a few extras because she strongly believes in planning forcontingencies) she puts the pliers away. “Okay, I think I’m good. Hopefullyeveryone else was successful.”

“Should you need any more assistance I’d be happy to help.”

“Yeah, I’m still kind of puzzled about why.”

His eyes sharpen, impatient and a tinge angry for the firsttime. “I had business in that club the first night. Business that I ended upneglecting. And I’d never have returned if not for you. You cannot be entirely unawareof your own appeal.”

He says it snidely, making it a dig instead of a compliment.Caroline bristles, “Don’t pretend like it’s ridiculous that I might questionyour motives.”

“Hence,” he shoots back, “why I understand that earning yourtrust will take time.” He’s holding himself rigidly, not attempting to hide hisfrustration. It seems like an admission that’s difficult for him to make.

“I… don’t object to that.” Her coven certainly would. Atleast, given Bon’s taste in vampires, she’ll have a friend in her corner.

Klaus relaxes incrementally but his next offer is stillstiff, “Perhaps we should exchange phone numbers.

She finds herself laughing in disbelief, “Oh, now he offers me his phone number.”

Klaus’ head tips to the side in confusion, “You didn’t seemparticularly interested in moving our acquaintance outside of the club. Iassumed it was due to our conflicting allegiances.”

“I had no idea you were well, you, until that meeting a fewweeks ago.”

“Yes,” he says dryly, “I gathered as much when you turned asickly shade of pale and refused to so much as turn your head in my direction.The point was driven home when you didn’t show up the following Saturday or on anyof the following nights.”

He’s been incredibly helpful, and honest, so Carolinefigures she can part with the truth, “I have roommates and you leave $100 billsas tips so I figured you didn’t. I’d have gone home with you pretty much anynight, including the first, if you’d asked.”

He’s obviously pleased with her confession, the skull fallsfrom his hand as he inches closer. Slowly this time, giving her the opportunityto retreat.

Caroline doesn’t move.

There’s heat in his eyes, promises that she knows he candeliver on, and this time when her heart stutters and her skin prickles inanticipation of his touch she doesn’t try to tell herself its wrong.

Is it? Probably. But, since he’s not demanded anything ofher, she’s decided not to care.

“Any night?” he asks, lower than before. His hands skim overher hips, his palm slipping under her shirt to trace the curve of her spine. It’sa blatant invitation and Caroline shivers, wishes that they were a little lessfilthy, that she didn’t have a pressing matter to attend to.

“Any night but tonight,” she amends.

He’s disappointed, she can tell. His head dips, lipsdragging down her throat. “Tomorrow,” he replies, firm. His teeth scrape herskin, the sting quickly soothed by the heat of his mouth. When he pulls awayshe’s breathing hard. “Dinner, first. Then dancing.”

“Pick me up at six,” Caroline agrees.

She kind of doubts they’ll get to the dancing.

#klaroline #klaroline drabbles #thetourguidebarbie #i've been focusing on rl stuff #because being an adult blows sometimes #and an original writing thing #but decided to destress with a little kc fic #and this prompt was the first to appeal

104 notes · View notes

sidereal-fantasies · 6 years ago

Text

[Circus!AU] Park Seonghwa: float

Pairing: Seonghwa + Reader

Category: (fairly short and very messy) One-shot written at 3 in the morning, Circus AU

Warning(s): one curse word, that’s it

Genre: Slight Fluff, Some Angst

A/N: Y’all remember that one live stage? Yeah, so, a girl still hasn’t recovered since and needed to vent about that attack on her poor heart, aha. Also, this felt longer and more confusing than it should be. Whoops.

Song Rec(s): Taro - alt-J

—

Come all, to Eden’s House of Wonders. Where mysteries seek the light of answers and answers hide in shadows of desires. Tip toes dance along a barely there wire. Hands break steel rods like paper. Come all, witness a show like no other. But beware, faces are like masks as names are like labels...

—

Dancing along to death from up above, on a thin rope, her feet carried her like it was second nature. Mesmerized by the gracefulness she possessed, he could only stare from below.

Seonghwa was a mere performer who entertained the masses through tumbling done on a German wheel. From vaulting off the wheel to simpler tricks like defying gravity for a few seconds before spinning back around, he couldn’t help, but to feel like he was stuck on the ground at times. Circle to circle, trick to trick, he wanted a new view. He wanted a new perspective of the audience. He wanted a new, exhilarating act. But most importantly...

He wanted to be with her.

Long since Eden’s circus show started, Seonghwa had gradually fallen in love with [Name]. From her work ethic and personality to the way she carries herself and her appearance, the list of tiny admirations soon grew to endless ramblings to other members that would lend a listening ear. Granted, the eldest performer there would suffer some light teasing every now and then, it was still evident to everyone that he was smitten.

Well, almost everyone.

It was another average morning. The tent was pulled up, equipment was laid out and tested for safety, and performers piled in to practice their routine. Seonghwa rolled his steel rings to one end, slowly running his hands over the smooth, familiar, cold metal as his eyes drifted to above. And there she was again, testing the thin wire with a delicate foot before placing more of her weight on it. Seonghwa settled his rings before fully placing his attention on the tightrope walker.

Once sure of herself, she slid her other foot in front of the first one and stretched her arms out to balance herself. One breath in, one breath out. She took another step forward, then another, and another, and another. Slowly, but surely, she made her way to middle of the rope with ease; as if it was second nature to her. A small smile graced her lips as she continued her way—

“Shit!”

With one misstep, she tumbled down into the safety net below. The rough ropes lightly scratched at her skin as the net caught her after a few bounces. She laid there for a few moments, staring up at the rope above her, contemplating where it went wrong. Suddenly, blonde hair came into her view.

“Are you alright, [Name]?”

“Ah... I just fell, that’s all, Seonghwa” [Name] replies with a defeated sigh. She sat up and accepted Seonghwa’s helping hand as she slipped off the net. His fingers lingered for a second before retracting to his side, a slightly bashful smile flashing upon his lips as he rubbed the back of his neck.

“You did well. I mean, I know the fall wasn’t planned, but you still make it look so effortless up there,” he complimented. A small chuckle left her while small crinkles at the corners of her eyes had only sent Seonghwa’s heart into a faster pace.

“Thank you. Don’t forget that you’re amazing as well!” [Name] reassured the blonde male. Another embarrassed smile exposed Seonghwa’s humbleness as he shook his head and held his hands up in response.

“You know, I was thinking of something,” Seonghwa trailed off. [Name] arched an eyebrow. “And?” She motioned for him to continue.

“We both do some form of acrobatics. But, I want to try something new like aerial silk,” Seonghwa responded. “And I was wondering if you want to be my partner.”

[Name] always felt some fondness towards the fellow acrobats artist. She admired his dedication towards his act and felt a sudden curious spur every now and then when she would watch Seonghwa maneuver through openings while spinning.

“That would be lovely. Let’s talk to Hongjoong about it,” [Name] replied with a small giggle.

And just like that, a new act was added to the list of never-ending talents.

~•*•~

Months were spent preparing the two performers for the new act with Hongjoong supervising and judging the chemistry.

Seonghwa caught on quickly and as weeks passed by, his skills only skyrocketed. The ribbons that caused his legs to ache and groan with every stretch were now comforting security as he spun through the air and around his partner. The unimaginable heights that once sent his heart racing with anxiety soon turned that worry into adrenaline and exhilaration.

During those practice sessions, Seonghwa and [Name] developed a closer bond. Light touches, shared laughter, and beaming expressions, Seonghwa felt a little bolder than before. Blush still speckled his cheeks every now and then, especially in regards to the final pose and other moves that required the two to be intimate. Nevertheless, he couldn’t be anymore happier now that he had this chance to build up to that one moment he had been planning for so long.

On just the day before the opening show, Seonghwa and [Name] wrapped up their practice and began doing last minute checks on costumes and equipment for tomorrow. Rummaging through bottomless trunks and chests, [Name] suddenly pulled out one costume in particular with a small gasp.

“Seonghwa! What about this one?” She inquired as she held the shimmering red material against her skin. The red costume was a loose, off-shoulder crop top connected by a light mesh to a very flowy high-skirt. Seonghwa turned around at the sound of his name and immediately felt the familiar warmth cover his cheeks. “Beautiful...” he murmured under his breath.

“I couldn’t hear you. What did you say?” [Name] responded.

“Oh! It looks really nice. I’ll definitely try to find something that matches that,” Seonghwa commented, internally cursing himself for his sudden timidness.

[Name] played with the ends of the material for a moment before she glanced back up at the tall male. “Say, Seonghwa, have you... ever felt really strong feelings for someone?”

Seonghwa paused for a moment and casted his gaze down to the items stuffed in the trunk. His eyes landed on a very dusty and slightly broken mask painted with intricate diamonds and dots that formed a frown and a tear. His thoughts dangerously inched closer to that bold line of admitting his own feelings.

“Are we talking about that indescribable skip of the heart? That desire to just be closer to that one person? Or that feeling when all your thoughts are suddenly occupied by that person alone?” He questioned. [Name] furrowed her eyebrows as she allowed the words to sink in for a moment.

“That’s... exactly how it feels and more,” [Name] admitted. The female scanned Seonghwa’s face for any discernible detail that would give away just what he was exactly thinking. She knew Seonghwa was a rather caring individual, but always wondered if there was just another layer beneath that persona. “You sound like this had happened before.”

Seonghwa chuckled nervously as he approached that dangerous borderline. “You can say that,” he confirmed. All he had to do was step over and take the dive; all he had to do was confess what his heart desired. However, doubt pooled in and pulled him back. “And more? I’m sorry if I sound like I’m prying from you.” He fumbled around a little bit before he pulled the mask he was staring at out and began to trace the details with the tips of his fingers.

It was [Name]’s turn to feel rather shy and embarrassed. Soft cheeks dusted with a pink hue as her throat constricted from almost revealing too much about her interest in a certain person. “It’s perfectly fine. It’s just, well, I’m afraid of the possible future if I choose to confess. In fact, I’m terrified that I won’t be able to recover if I were to find out that I was the only one interested. You know what I mean?”

Seonghwa placed the mask back in the chest and closed it with a soft click. He turned towards [Name] and offered another gentle smile. Perfectly understandable, he thought for it perfectly described his current crisis.

“In my honest opinion, it’s all about your comfort level. Take your time and wait until it feels right. At the same time, don’t wait too long,” Seonghwa advised.

[Name] nodded her head in response. Suddenly, Seonghwa felt a pair of arms around his waist and peered down to see [Name]. He swore that his heart had jumped out of his chest the moment she made contact with him. Seonghwa soon returned the embrace, squeezing her tightly before taking a step back.

“I need to check in with Hongjoong once more about timing. Thank you again for asking me to do this with you. And thank you for the advice,” [Name] said as she turned in the opposite direction.

Seonghwa simply watched the girl quickly catching up to Hongjoong. His usual endearing smile still plastered on as he could faintly hear her glorious laughter. Yet, even that pure sound could not stop the sudden ache he felt in his chest.

The day of the show arrived.

The beginning of their performance left them a nervous wreck. However, as the routine continued, the familiar comfort of the cool air and tight ribbons calmed their hearts. From spirals to false falls, they were soon one of the same unit. The ribbons would flawlessly trail after their movements, sometimes intertwining and detangling after just the ghost touches that happened in their routine. Fingertips would meet for a split second before the two would swing away. These teasing moments had only provoked the audience as they cheered the duo on.

Finally, as they approached each other one last time, they pulled the ribbons out to resemble curtains as they spun around. The ribbons soon obscured the two, leaving only their silhouettes to flutter around the imagination of the eager audience. Closer and closer, one of his hands finally met her waist while one of her’s rested upon his left shoulder. Down they went, spiraling towards the ground before the ribbons tugged tight, leaving them in their final pose as the ribbons settled to reveal them.

Realization struck Seonghwa in that moment.

As the roses came flying in while the duo remained suspended just inches above the ground, he realized all his efforts were in vain. Though her eyes held that lovely glint he fell for the first time he caught a glimpse, it wasn’t ever meant for him. He could follow her gaze to the exact person she had her eyes set on instead and oh, how it pained him so much in that moment alone. His kindness was only taken for politeness as he gently led her to place her feet on the ground and help her stand up. His hands, planted on the small of her back, fell helplessly and hopelessly.

He had to keep the mask on with all eyes on the two; an unfortunate smile as the fool took his place in the center.

No matter how many times he flew through the air, no matter how many times he defied gravity, he was a pierrot. Bound by the tragic one-sided love that will never be returned, his true face would forever be hidden behind the false beliefs he once held. He was simply the partner. The one that wasn’t supposed to let her fall. He was a performer. Those feelings were meant to stay separate from work, no matter how close and intimate they had gotten over the course of time.

He was the clown that wore the mask over his heart.

30 notes · View notes