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cloudbattrolls · 2 years

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Lemon To A Knife Fight

— leechfulLolita [LL] has begun trolling honeyBee [HB] —

LL: Rhyssa, its Neffie, we need you

HB: what’s up, sugar cube?

LL: Hirudo isn’t at her computer, the door’s blocked, I think they might be coming from underneath???

HB: sugar they’re worms, what were you thinkin’ would happen

LL: not our foundation getting fucking chewed through! We need backup!

HB: mm hmm. Well, it’s coming outta your pay! I was about to let my nails dry. Takes me forever to do it, I can’t see well.

LL: whatever just co

HB: well whiskey and biscuits, things must really be going pear shaped.

— honeyBee [HB] has stopped trolling leechfulLolita [LL] —

The wasp swarm clicked her tongue as the parts of her that had been watching her hands so she could paint flew back into her body. Little ones! So helpless sometimes.

They’d done well tracking down the lime Tuuya played lusus to, which still had her reeling from the wildness of it. What a pure strange thing to do! But it figured the coven could only get so far on their own.

Still, she guessed it didn’t matter much.

Either they succeeded, and she swooped in to play hero, offering Tuuya her help to get their lime back in exchange for their cooperation…or they failed, and she could still blackmail the worm, who would now be desperate to protect their pet grub.

The plan would work either way.

Her sibling would have to come home.

SEVERAL MINUTES PRIOR

Hirudo yawned, but her body was tense, waiting for some sign of their expected visitor on the camera feed. She shouldn’t be worried - Rhyssa had advised them on the best choice of weapons, and Joey and Neffie were both fully prepped on how to handle Uunive if she tried anything - though she shouldn’t be able to, the lime was currently fully restrained.

The fuchsia was tired of grubsitting, though, and it had only been a few nights. She’d joked to her girlfriend that she should be enthusiastic, given her caste, but Neffie had only snorted.

Having Uunive around reminded them how inconvenient the needs of the living were, too. She wondered how Tuuya could have possibly put up with the tedium long enough to raise a wriggler. Why they ignored Rhyssa, she'd never know. The older swarm had explained how they had steadfastly rejected her or refused to engage even when she showed interest in their hobbies.

Why? Weren’t they lonely? Trolls only lasted so long, anyway.

Movement on the cameras.

She relaxed as she examined the glowing screens properly. The troll looked nothing like Tuuya. They were plainly dressed and milling about aimlessly, maybe lost or trying to figure out if the clinic was open - it wasn’t, of course. They weren’t risking any interruptions during the operation.

Wait - where were they going now? Around the back? Hirudo clicked her tongue in annoyance. The last thing they needed was some nosy idiot sniffing around when the worm swarm could show up any minute.

So involved was the coven leader in looking at the annoying passerby that she didn’t notice the slight but distinct shifting in the soil around the clinic.

—

Neffie and Joey played lusus passing while they guarded Uunive. The rustblood grumbled as his moirail bullied him into accepting a crafting recipe, the limeblood silent on the couch.

Both snapped to attention as their leader’s voice crackled through a walkie talkie.

“There’s some idiot on the cameras. Probably just an idiot trespasser, but stay sharp. I’m going to take care of them.”

“Did Tuuya send someone to distract us?” Neffie said disparagingly, rolling her eyes. “Like we're /that/ dumb. La-ame!”

The basement floor creaked slightly. Klirro sat up quickly in her long stone coffin, the red spirals in her eyes rotating quickly instead of their usual slow coil.

“They come. All of them is coming. This is the time; the whole is with us.”

Neffie squinted. “Klirro, you know we love your nonsense, but what the hell does that - ”

The floorboards snapped and cracked open in a wide circle, and the ancient rainbowdrinker was pulled beneath the earth, coffin and all.

Neffie and Joey screeched, gaping at the mangled, broken floor, splintered wood lying everywhere at odd angles, the dust thrown up from the movement settling back down again.

Uunive stared, silent. What had just happened?

Did this have anything to do with her lusus?

TWO MINUTES PRIOR

The troll had started setting up something that the leech drinker knew could well be weaponry of some sort, but whatever it was she wanted it and them off her property. With an annoyed sigh she went outside to deal with them. If this was some lackey of Tuuya’s, they weren’t being very subtle. She was a bit disappointed. Weren’t they supposed to be old and cunning?

“Hey. If you don’t leave -“ she said, showing off her sharp sanguivore teeth “ - I’m going to make you.”

The troll - nondescript, with a plain face, gray eyes, and short straight hair - cocked their head and looked at her as if studying the sign in a shop window.

“Why do you want me to go?” Their voice was strangely flat, and they were very still for someone who’d just been threatened. There was something off about them - about their smell - but she had a million other things to worry about right now.

Odd. Usually trolls hit the bricks when they saw a towering fuchsia. “Uh, you’re in my territory? Don’t be stupid. You know what - you had your chance.”

She drew her glaive from her sylladex and ran them through with the speed and strength of her caste.

There was no blood on it. They hadn’t screamed or even moved at all. They merely looked at the weapon as if it were an amusing curiosity, then up at her as they gripped it with both hands and pulled hard.

The pole, custom made for seadweller strength - cracked, pushed out of the body into two pieces that fell on the ground with dull thuds.

She looked at them, those impassive gray eyes, finding her entire body restrained by the dry coils of white worms flooding over her limbs, her torso, her mouth and her eyes as she tried to move.

They clung tight around her dead gills, nibbling at them gently with tiny razor teeth, and she shuddered.

—

CURRENTLY

Neffie had run upstairs to Hirudo’s computer, frantically messaging Rhyssa. All the doors and windows of the clinic were covered by bone and viscera and the camera feed wires had been chewed through, leaving the screens blank.

Where was her girlfriend? Where was Tuuya? How were they - it must be them - doing all this when she hadn’t even seen them?

Why hadn’t Klirro come back?

—

Joey held a plasma gun as he bared his teeth and his pedipalps twitched, head darting this way and that as he looked out for further signs of the floor collapsing or other weird shit going down.

He hoped to hell Rhyssa would come and actually lend a hand. He hadn’t signed up for this bullshit. He’d called out for Klirro in the vain hope it would make her reappear, but of course nothing had happened.

At least the kid seemed as wigged out as he was. She kept looking at the ground too, as if expecting it to collapse even further.

There was a faint rustling, and Joey’s ears flicked, trying to figure out where it was coming from.

Multicolored silk and bones fell from the ceiling.

He looked up to see Neffie’s cocoons gone, shredded, the bodies inside reduced to skeletons that he put his free arm over his head to protect himself from as they rained down. The limeblood had fled into the bathroom and shut the door and honestly he couldn’t be fucking bothered with her right now.

It wasn’t like she had anywhere to go. They were in a fucking basement, after all.

—

Uunive, whispered a voice as she sat huddled on the cold bathroom floor, and she startled. But it didn’t sound like the coven.

No, it sounded like…like Tuuya.

“Where are you?” She asked in the same hushed tones, trying not to tip off Joey.

Everywhere. I have a way out for you. Prepare for sudden movement. Please trust me.

The limeblood swallowed. She had to trust them. She didn’t have a choice.

—

Klirro hummed as she was held in her coffin in the dark, quiet earth. It was peaceful; just like her nap had been, when she had been bound and put in her tomb. The worms shifted around her, keeping the lid shut, spiraling pleasingly as they curled and wriggled.

She could drift off again, maybe it was that timeline after all…

Klirro felt Hirudo’s suffering as it spiraled down to her. It twined with Neffie’s panic, Joey’s anger and frustration, Uunive’s worry and tiny, cautious spark of hope.

Most potent of all, the worm’s rage, fear, and love.

No, it was not the moment to sleep.

With a crunching of bones and squelching as she rearranged the troll corpse that held her, the horrorterror pushed the coffin lid off despite the worms that held it, unraveling the invertebrates into thin spirals of segments and teeth.

She moved around and up toward the surface where Hirudo was through the dirt and touched the worms holding her, undoing these smaller ones as well.

The horrorterror held the fuchsia in her bony arms as she reformed her troll shape, patting her on the back.

Then Hirudo bared her fangs and snarled, taking a plasma gun from her sylladex.

“Rhyssa’s worthless. We’ll take them down ourselves.”

—

Neffie had drawn her own gun, but where to shoot? She went back down to the basement, wanting to at least be near Joey.

She stopped dead at the sight of the bones, at the ruined silk cocoons. The maroon looked at her with grim sympathy, his own gun in his arms, trying to avoid stepping on the tattered, colorful fragments strewn all over the remaining floorboards.

“What happened?” The jade asked, her voice cracking. Her work! Her silk! All her bodies, and some of those colors had been rare! There wasn’t a spot of blood or viscera to be seen, meticulously cleaned from the bones in instants.

“They just…fell.” Her moirail said, shaking his head. “Don’t know what to tell you, Nef. I kept waiting, wonderin what’s gonna happen next. I hate this, it fuckin’ sucks worse than actually fighti - ”

The bones on the floor quivered. They rolled back and forth.

They grew spikes and tines of bone, spiderwebbing together into a writhing mass that tried to overrun the room as the rainbowdrinkers blasted at it with plasma, hissing in fury.

The floor fell apart below Uunive and she stifled a scream as she fell - but did not splatter.

Gentle white tendrils curled around her and set her down in what was, from the smell of it, a freshly dug space several feet below the DeVille Clinic.

She looked up, but the hole was already being filled in, and she was in the dark - no, not quite, the tendrils were glowing, illuminating the hollowed out earth, now with a ceiling just barely big enough to allow her to stand.

As the tendrils let her go and slid back into the earth, she saw they were segmented.

Feeling faint for a moment, the limeblood quickly brushed it off and smiled in a wobbly sort of way.

What a lusus she had.

—

Klirro, for once, closed her eyes. The spirals in them still turned, but she needed to look below. As above, so below, trolls sometimes said - looking for order. For synchronization. It was sweet.

Chaos was as much a perception as order was. Tiny facets of a vast, cut gem.

As Hirudo joined her coven mates in destroying the assault of bone trying to skewer them, the ancient drinker spiraled. Everything turned back in on itself. Every loop that could never quite close. She wasn’t ready to see this spiral of her coven find its end quite yet.

She felt the limeblood deep within the earth.

She still had to set the girl free.

She had promised.

—

Uunive couldn’t help screaming as suddenly - sickeningly - the world shifted around her and she was - she was -

Stone. Stone surrounded her, scraping at her skin. She couldn’t see, could barely breathe.

She heard the blast of weapons, cursing and yelling that went completely silent as the stone was moved aside by a pair of long, bony hands and a horribly familiar face with massive fangs and red spiral eyes looked down at her.

—

Neffie, Joey, and Hirudo could only stare. The bone web had stopped attacking, and they’d blasted a lot of it to dust with their weapons. Now Klirro strode over to her coffin, risen from the hole in the broken floor it had fallen through. She pushed aside the slab of stone with gentle care and looked down at the frazzled girl within.

“Tuuya.” Said Klirro gently. “You will undo yourself into inversion. You have tried to undo my coven. Your daughter…”

She tilted her head, looking down at the smaller being. Swathed in protective psiionic power. Like a haze of lime and gold. Gripping the lime by the shoulders, she yanked her out of the coffin for all to see.

Out of the remaining bones, worms wriggled out and rapidly formed bones and skin into a troll shape, glaring at the horrorterror, a laser pistol in each hand. The anger in their gaze was only equaled by their desperation.

Klirro returned the look with one of faint sympathy.

“So many, to hold such tightly coiled loss, eating itself up.”

She leaned down and bit the limeblood in the throat, jagged fangs sinking directly into her veins.

Tuuya unhinged their jaw and screamed.

From every construct hidden in the clinic that had watched and destroyed and wriggled, from their troll mouth and the other mouths grown on their body in distress, they screamed in an engulfing chorus as their daughter collapsed in a heap and the DeVilles fled upstairs from the terrible, piercing sound.

Klirro was last among them, giving one last look to the wailing swarm as she left.

So it had to be. So it had always been.

Tuuya put their guns away and cradled their daughter’s corpse in their arms, their precious little girl, as they sobbed clear tears over her body, the stains mingling with the lime blood running from her mangled throat.

They lamented to such heights the coven heard it long after running from the clinic. It rang in their ears, hounding their rapid steps, a choir of loss and fury that promised them a terrible second death.

Not far away, Rhyssa listened as well.

The wasp swarm’s mouth stretched wide under the bandanna over her eye sockets, long needle fangs showing in a satisfied smile.

#cloud writes #part one of the cavalcade clusterfuck #children of ozryel #etuuya vannyn #uunive semreh #klirro #rory helped me edit and with keeping the DeVilles IC!#much thanks to him

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charlettebffxiv · 3 years

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Prompt #1: Foster

“Don’t pretend you don’t know what I’m talking about.” Maxim was not very good at looking fierce, or strict, or any kind of intimidating. Elezen or not, he couldn’t cut a visage worth a shiver if he’d been draped in Wood Wailer’s armour. “I’m not! You are just making no sense, at all. In fact, I think you might even be lying.” Charlette was terrible at lying. Especially when the ‘right’ answer was practically hammering it’s very-correct fists against the back of her teeth, stuck in a fake smile as they were. “You don’t have lashes long enough to flutter, so stop trying.” Oh, that cut a little. Not that Charlette was too concerned with the quality of her lashes. But she was, a little bit, after he said that. “I still don’t know what you mean. What even is that? It looks like a linkpearl, but it’s a funny colour isn’t it?” Maxim held one of the devices in the flat of his palm, he’d fished it out of a pocket moments before confronting Charlette. The dark-purple linkpearls used by Cult that her order… former order, had long since defeated. Allegedly. She knew all this, which is why she was attempting to lie to her friend.

“C’mon Charlette! I found it in your pack, you know what it is. I’m not stupid, and you aren’t convincing. Don’t give me that Archives run-around, I’m from Willow’s Heart, just like you. I know what’s under the library, just because I was never allowed inside doesn’t mean I just forget that you were!” Maxim’s attempts at intimidation had melted, he was verbally pouting now. By the twitch of his rather delicate lips, he may just do so soon. Since he’d dropped the act, so would Charlette. “And if you know all these things, smart Master Botanist Maxim, then you also know the reason you don’t know is you aren’t allowed, to know.” awkward retorts aside, she was being truthful. “Yes, but you are!” and then came that pout. It was not going to work. “I am. Or was. Might be again, depending. But so what?” Charlette turned away, they still had work to do before this sun was done, and Maxim’s curiosity was not going to distract her away from it. These worms weren’t going to jar themselves, and neither was the soil they’d be living in. Grabbing a handful of the dark, moist dirt she lets it crumble between her fingers, falling loosely into the glass container. All to the backdrop of Maxim’s long, whinging “Pleeeeeaaaasee!” The man was remarkably persistent. “I missed out on my chance to look inside the very special hidey-hole, being second born and all, but you’re technically in a grey area, right? They’re still, uh, y’know. Looking into it?” now he’s suddenly going to take care with his words? “Nice save. Yes, technically I am in a grey area where it’s all concerned. But not when it comes to keeping the archives secrets. Especially this one!” a soiled finger points to the linkpearl, still clutched tight in Maxim’s fingers. “Aha! So you do know what it’s all about?” his triumphant tone is both obnoxious and endearing. “Someone’s proud of themself. Yes, I know. Still not going to tell you.” and he deflates, now Charlette’s the one wearing an obnoxious, hopefully endearing smirk. “Aww. You just like holding all the cards!” “I do. Very much. You’ve spent Moons telling me what to do, and pointing out my mistakes, and making sure I don’t-” Maxim cuts in, quick as can be. “Making sure you don’t blow-up us up with fertilizer or poison our grub stocks? That you don’t choke the tadpoles in the pond by clogging up the fountains? You’re welcome by the way. You can show your gratitude by telling me-” “No, damnit!” The cutter was cut, Maxim snapping his mouth closed so quickly his teeth clacked together like iron sheers. “Sorry, it’s just. I can’t, Maxim. None of us can. Current Order members, retired, instructors, keepers, the librarian or even me. Miss grey-area, waiting to see if I’m being kicked-out, put back to work, or looking at a life trapped in Willow’s Heart for ‘my own safety’. Bah.” The jar she’d been stuffing was packed far too tight. She knew because Maxim had grabbed it, and her hand, to bring a stop to her jamming soil into it. It was heavy, like a brick, and any more pressure from her she’d be turning it into clay. “It’s going to be fine, you know that. Right?” soft, reassuring. Or at least that’s what he was trying to do. But, it was not. “You have no idea how it all works Maxim. And, if I were you, knowing what I know? I’d be grateful for that fact.” cold, glass-like smoothness touches the inside of Charlette’s palm. She looks down, the darkened linkpearl. Placed there by Maxim. “I don’t, but I’ve had a long, lovely time with you because of their orders. So I know you. And I don’t see any reason for them not to be desperate to have you back out there, keeping us all safe from weird things, and weird people, and weird-weirdness that can’t be explained.'' Well, even Charlette had to admit, that was reassuring. Or, maybe just charming. Doesn’t matter. “Thanks, flattery does always make me feel much better. Probably because I-” “Deserve it?” “Let me finish my sentences!” “Tell me about the linkpearl! Please! I’ll do half your jars for you?” “No! And I’m already half done. If I don’t help you, you’ll never be finished before sundown.” “True! Tell me about it while we finish up? I’ll buy you a lemon tartlet from the bakery tomorrow?” “No. But I’ll take the tartlet.” “You’ll have to stop fostering that air of mystery, just a little bit, to earn it!” Charlette heaved out a heavy sigh. This was never going to end. “Do you know what an aether replication device is?” Maxim’s eyes went wide, he moved in close enough to bump shoulders with her, dropped his voice to a conspiratorial whisper. “No! What’s that?” and she had him. For now, at least. The linkpearl slipped into a pocket, out of sight, and hopefully out of his mind.

#ffxivwrite2021 #ffxiv roleplay #ffxiv writing

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dialovers-translations · 4 years

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Diabolik Lovers Zero vol. 6 Yuma Mukami [Track 5]

Original title: その肖像画は土へ還った

Source: Diabolik Lovers Zero Vol. 6 Yuma Mukami [CD not owned by me]

Audio: Here

Seiyuu: Tatsuhisa Suzuki

Translator’s note: I enjoyed this CD a lot and it really fuelled my love for Yuma, haha. I’m kind of scared to play his More, Blood route now, because I know he’s a little less ‘nice’ in that one so hopefully it doesn’t ruin his character for me.

This track was requested by @wishandluck! If you would like to request a translation, please contact me through IMs or drop an ask!

Track 1 ll Track 2 ll Track 3 ll Track 4 ll Track 5

Track 5: Said Painting Was Returned to the Soil

*Rustle rustle*

“Aaahn...~ Mm-mm~ Sugar-chan never fails to disappoint.”

You tell him not to snack before dinner.

“It’s fine! I have a different stomach for this. (1) Also, dinner time’s a freakin’ warzone, you know? I have to charge my energy levels now so Kou doesn’t steal my fried shrimp later.

Aaahm~ Mmm...Aah...So sweet~”

*Rustle rustle*

“Hm? This sugar cube is shaped like a flower?”

You frown, wondering if he dislikes the shape.

“That’s not it. Do you really think I could hate these? ...When I first ate sugar cubes way back, they were shaped like flowers as well. That person (Karlheinz)...gave them to me. Before that, I rarely ever got to eat any decent grub. They were so incredibly sweet...and delicious, I got hooked right away.

Back then, I could have probably grown to like fake flowers as well.”

You tilt your head to the side.

“Huh? Ahー I just remembered that museum, with the fabricated plants and my doppelganger.

Hey, don’t just keep standin’ there and take a seat.”

*Pat pat*

You sit down next to Yuma.

“Haah...He was talkin’ all high and mighty, but his feelings of not wanting to die, of wanting to keep something alive, I understand them painfully well. Whatever the reason may be. However, if they themselves does not wish to live on, it’s different, right? Then both you and the other person will just continue to suffer.”

You nod.

“I guess that doesn’t sound very convincin’ comin’ from someone who chose to become a Vampire ‘cause they didn’t wanna die.”

You shake your head.

“Heh. I see. If you’re sayin’ that, I guess I made the right choice. I don’t really know ‘bout reincarnation and all, but if they are born once more, I hope they get to enjoy their time alive.”

You agree.

“Yeah. ...Okay, enough worryin’...! I’ll give you this sugar-chan as a reward for speakin’ words of wisdom.”

*Rustle rustle*

“Come on, eat it~”

He feeds you the cubed sugar.

“Hehe~ Look at that silly expression. Make sure to savor the taste, ‘kay? ...Oh! Look at you bein’ all obedient. However, watchin’ you triggered my own appetite as well.”

Yuma moves closer.

“Instead of the others, I want the one in your mouth right now...Mm...”

*Smooch*

“Hehe~ It’s even sweeter than before.”

You get flustered.

“Can ya really blame me? I’m hungry after all. ...Hey, let me have more. Just to let ya know, no sugar nor dinner will be able to satisfy me right now. What I want is obviously over here...”

He embraces you.

“I want your blood so badly...I don’t know if it’s ‘cause I was wasting my time thinkin’ ‘bout trivial things, but I want to feel ya right now. Ya don’t mind, right?”

You nod.

“Hehe~ That’s what I like to hear. ...I’ll suck from my favorite spot. Come on, turn around. Also move your clothes out of the way a little.”

*Rustle rustle*

“The back really is the best...Although like this it would be even more tempting...~”

He pins you down.

*Thud*

“When I have you pushed down like this, it’s like I’m latchin’ onto a prey. A Vampire’s instinct, I guess? Also you like it better like this too, don’t ya?”

Yuma takes in your scent.

“Mm~ The smell of your blood is gettin’ sweeter...”

You try and deny it.

“Huh? You’re not being honest at all...Come on, just admit you like it. Mm~”

*Smooch*

“Why are you so sensitive? It might just feel too good if I bite you here now. You’re twitching just from me tracin’ my fingers across.”

Yuma runs his hands down your back.

“I know. I can’t hold back any longer either. Enough teasin’...”

He bites your back.

*Sluuuuurp*

“Haah...This is bad...I can’t stop...Yeah. Look this way.”

You turn around.

“Let’s stay like this till dinner time. I’ll give ya my fangs where you want them next.”

You seem a little hesitant.

“Why not? This is also an important moment spent between the two of us. I don’t know what the future holds. How could I know? However, I’m gonna enjoy this moment to its fullest. I’ll make ya so happy, everyone else will be jealous of you. Don’t go faintin’ on me, ‘kay?”

*Smooch*

ーー THE END ーー

Translation notes

(1) The term べつばらor ‘betsu-bara’ is often used in Japanese to refer to having a ‘different stomach’ (literally xD) for sweets.

#diabolik lovers #dialovers #yuma mukami #diabolik lovers zero #diabolik lovers translation #diabolik lovers drama cd #drama cd

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iseeskiesofblueandcloudsofwhite · 3 years

Text

Pumpkin Man

Andrew thought he got rid of the man he suspected had an affair with his wife. Little did he know that he problems only started to take root in his backyard.

Chapter One

Andrew

May 16, 2021. It will be the day I forever regret. The day I killed my Robert Norstrum. He was a co-worker of Stacy, my wife. They worked at a local home depot at a town over, she worked in the garden section while he worked in electrical. He was a short man with piercing blue eyes and dark black hair who always had something clever to say and chose the most annoying way to say it. I know that I could be rough around the edges, not as easy going as some but that didn’t mean that he needed to bother my wife. I am a good father to our child and got a degree in software engineering so I could pay for our beautiful house with a garden that Stacy loved. Our home that we made was the perfect slice of heaven

There was nothing extraordinary about Robert that I could see, but I could see that my wife thought of him differently. Initially, when she spoke about him, her eyes would light up. Eventually she caught on to my disgust for him and just mentioned him on occasion, but at that point only the slightest mention would send me in a bad mood. And then there were the lapses of time I didn’t know where she was. She said she was going out to the store or out for a walk, but all I could imagine was her talking and giggling with that man with the blue eyes. When I mentioned it to her, she said that I was paranoid. The feeling was similar to that of right before one gets a head cold. You can sense something is off, but can’t quite put your finger on it. I remember my growing anxiety that I might lose my house, my wife and my kid along with everything I worked so hard to accomplish.

That day Robert Nostrum showed up at my door looking for her. It was in the middle of the day and I was working from home at that time taking my lunch. Stacy took Talyor, our daughter, on a playdate, and would not be back for hours. He said that he was dropping off a mums, and a giant pumpkin plant that she had been eyeing. I remember looking at the plant and thinking that I was the only man that should be giving Stacy gifts. I led him down into the basement where I said I had electrical problems and needed another man’s eyes on it. From there it was quite simple, while he was looking at the electrical work I hit him on the back of the head with a crowbar. There was no struggle as he seemed to be in shock. He fell to the floor and as I bludgeoned his face until it was unrecognizable. From there wrapped his body in an old carpet and put it in a wheelbarrow. It was in the middle of the day and I knew that most of the neighbors were at work in upper class suburbia. I emailed work quickly citing a family emergency so I could deal with the remains. My backyard also had a thin veil of trees from one property to the other making it difficult to see adjoining properties unless one was intent on looking. I dug a deep grave in the freshly tilled soil of the garden rather fast. Where the tiller did not reach I used a pick ax to loosen the dirt, the wet spring soil easily breaking under my shovel . I dug it much deeper than anyone would ever uncover. I knew I would tell Stacy next year that the garden would have to be moved next year and make some excuse that there was better light in other places of the lawn, but changing the location of the garden now would be too much work without a better cause. After digging the grave, I simply dumped the body in with the pumpkin plant that he came with. It was almost chilling to see that after I put back the earth around the grave, that it looked no different than the garden surrounding it. I cleaned the mess in the basement. Taking his car and I drove it to a local deserted park wearing plastic gloves to make sure I left no fingerprints. By the time Stacy was home with Taylor, so I told her that I had taken a short walk around town and I would be back in a few hours. That was the last I thought Robert Northstom would bother me, my wife or my daughter but I was horribly wrong.

Chapter Two

Stacy

Stacy looked outside the french windows as the crisp fall air touched her face. It wasn’t really cold, but the air was definitely getting drier and she could feel a sense of autumn wrapping its arms around her. Stacy could hardly believe it was autumn. It seemed like just yesterday that it was the start of the season at the store and she was laying out new plants that had just sprouted. That was when Robert kept her company at the store. He was nothing more than a friend but a real close one and his absence along with the socialization that Stacy got from working made Stacy feel uneasy transitioning back home. Stacy always found the adjustment back to full time stay at home mom overwhelming, but this year it seemed to hit even more. Taylor and her family were her life but Andrew had a tendency to be distant and Taylor could be a handful. Work sometimes seemed a lot less complicated than her home life.

Stacy savored the few moments before Taylor, her five year old, woke up and started creating havoc in the house with her toys. She could hear that her husband Andrew had already started working upstairs on his computer. He didn’t say a word to her this morning, but that was the way things usually were. He wasn’t distant when they first started dating, Stacy couldn’t really put her finger on it when they stopped saying good morning to each other, but now that was just the way it was. Stacy walked into the kitchen and started making breakfast with Edgar, the cat closely at her heels. Stacy was barely done with the eggs when she heard Taylor clomping down the stairs.

“Mommy!’ Taylor cheered as she entered the kitchen. She squatted down near Edgar and gently pulled his tail. Immediately Edgar scrambled out of the kitchen.

“Taylor, don’t pull his tail. That hurts him.” Stacy said.

“I’m sorry Mommy.” Taylor muttered, sitting in her chair.

“What do you want to do today? We could go to the farm and go for a tractor ride. Does that sound fun?” Stacy asked.

“Scarecrow!" Taylor exclaimed, pointing out the windows towards the garden.

This year the garden was a bust. Every plant Stacy planted died almost immediately as if the land was intentionally salted. The death had also creeped a little in the yard right up to the house resulting in a horrible looking yard. Stacy was sure it was just a bad grub problem this year, but then, in the middle of July, a pumpkin plant started to flourish in the garden. It soon consumed the barren garden with cascading leaves and pulsating veiny stems.

Since it was the only plant growing in the garden the pumpkin plant demanded the attention of the garden. In the middle of the vegetation lay a single pumpkin. It was not a huge pumpkin, slightly bigger than one’s head.

“Ok, we can do that.” Stacy knew Andrew should probably be included in the family activity, but he never seemed interested with any of the plants this year.

He even mentioned killing the plant and starting afresh making a new garden, but Stacy and Taylor would not allow it.

Stacy and Taylor walked out into the garden. The strong early autumn sun warmed the air but the dryness was still there. Taylor pranced out in the lawn already distracted by the sunshine and the earth. Stacy went into the garage grabbing paper, a pencil, cutting utensils, an old flannel shirt, jeans and gloves. Walking back to the house Stacy grabbed paints and a paintbrush. Painting was much more safe than carving knives.

“Andrew, we are going to make a scarecrow. I was wondering if you were free to help me cut off the stalk?”

“Umm.. sure. I will be there soon” Andrew mumbled.

Stacy walked out in the yard and helped Taylor gather leaves for the scarecrow’s body. Andrew came out to the yard a few minutes later with a knife.

“Daddy!” Taylor ran to Andrew. Andrew threw the knife a safe distance away and grabbed Taylor spinning her in the air.

Stacy looked at both Andrew and Taylor with the backdrop of their house. Everything about their life was picture perfect at this moment as she joined her family in an embrace.

“We are going to make a scarecrow today?’ Andrew asked, dropping Taylor and picking up the knife again.

“Yes, Scarecrow!” Stacy cheered.

Stacy noticed Andrew's face became firmer when he looked at the garden. He picked up the knife in his hand and walked towards the pumpkin. Sitting down, Andrew sliced the stem.

Errikkk

A distant scream cried out that sounded like it came a few houses over. The knife barely made an abrasion on the stalk.

“Mommy, I’m scared.” Taylor cooed.

“It’s ok baby.” Stacy said.

Andrew readjusted the pumpkin and tried again.

Ahhhh

Another distant scream seemed to vibrate out of the ground. This time the knife made a cut an inch deep.

“Stop!” Taylor shrieked, running towards the house. Stacy looked toward Andrew.”

“Is that noise coming from the pumpkin?” Stacy questioned.

“Don’t be silly, those sounds aren’t coming from the plant. I will get it.” Andrew grumbled.

Stacy turned to get Taylor back in the house listening to the continued screaming coming from outside until she entered the house. In the house, Taylor was in the living room watching Andrew cut the pumpkin.

“It’s ok. The pumpkin plant can’t feel anything.” Stacy reassured Taylor.

They watched Andrew cut the pumpkin off it’s stalk and cut a hole for the pole. The way here was something rough about him when carving the object, the way that he even held the pumpkin like a severed head caused Stacy shivers. After doing his diligence, Andrew walked back to the house and went back to work in his upstairs study, without saying a word

“So, paint time?” Stacy suggested.

“Yes!” Taylor squealed.

Stacy and Taylor went back to the yard with the paint supplies.

“He could be a friendly pumpkin. He could be a friend to the trees and birds.” Stacy suggested.

“Yes, he will be friendly! Here Mommy I did it.” Taylor said

Stacy gazed upon her child’s artwork. Perhaps it was friendly to a five year old, but to Stacy it had a creepy edge to it. The pumpkin had a bright red grin that reached half the span of the pumpkin like a clown mouth. His nose was a lopsided yellow triangle and above that were huge blue eyes with black pupils.

“Looks great sweetie.” Stacy said, trying to hide her aversion to her daughter’s artwork. Taylor seemed oblivious to Stacy's thoughts.

“Hello, Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor chirped as Stacy hammered a post on the edge of the garden and assembled the body. When she was finished it was 3:30 in the afternoon.

“Ok Taylor, time to clean up and go in. I’m going to start dinner for Daddy now.” Stacy said.

“But I want to play with Mr. Scarecrow now. He has to have friends”. Taylor protested.

“You can be his friend tomorrow.” Stacy said handing Taylor paint supplies. Taylor sighed and started helping Stacy clean up.

That evening after dinner the family set down to watch TV. The sun was setting earlier and already at 7 o clock the inky blackness of night had set in. Having little attention for TV this week, Stacy wandered into the kitchen. Passing by her French windows, she noticed Edger the cat transfixed with the outside world.

“What is it Edger? Do you see a mouse?” Stacy said. Edger looked back at her, now seeing that he got her attention, Edger began crying to the outside.

“Stop it, there's nothing out there.” Stacy said as she put the dishes in the dishwasher.

Nevertheless, the cat began crying more and more, like Stacy had not heard before.

“What’s up with Edger?” Andrew asked.

“I don’t know.” Stacy said, grabbing a mask and shooing away the cat from the windows.

Quickly frisking the darkness with a flashlight Stacy didn’t see anything new in the lawn, but as her flashlight hit the pumpkin, for a split-second, Stacy could have sworn that the pumpkin had narrowed its eyes.

Chapter Three

Stacy

The next day, Stacy was rushing to clean the house. Taylor’s friend, Amanda, was coming over.

“Is Amanda here yet? I want to show her Mr. Scarecrow today!” Taylor announced, holding a few stuffed animals in her hand.

“Ok, but you need to get dressed in the clothes I laid out for you and brush your teeth.” Stacy said, feeling overwhelmed. Andrew went to get coffee for himself a half an hour ago and hadn't come back yet. She can’t really blame him; Amanda’s parents were not their favorite people. There was no one reason why she disliked Amanda’s parents, but they could be rude at times. Stacy just would rather prefer dealing with them and her daughter together rather than alone. Hearing a door slam, Stacy turned her attention to the street to see Amanda being dropped off by her parents at the curb. Stacy breathed a sigh of relief. At least the feelings she had toward Amanda’s parents were mutual. Amanda clamored out of the car and rang the doorbell.

“Amanda!” Taylor squealed. She still was in her pajamas.

The two jumped around the living room with a loud greeting.

“Ok Taylor, get your clothes on and you two can play outside.” Stacy said.

“Yes Mom.” Giving Stacy an exaggerated salute Taylor raced up the stairs to her bedroom.

Waiting for Taylor, Amanda went to the kitchen overlooking the backyard.

“What’s that?” Amanda asked

“That’s a scarecrow we made.” Stacy explained.

“Wow!” Amanda exclaimed, transfixed by the garden ornament.

“You can go out there and I’ll let Taylor know.” Stacy offered.

Amanda ran out to see the scarecrow, soon followed by Taylor after she got dressed. At first, Stacy watched the pair talk next to the scarecrow, but eventually they were prancing around him and playing with stuffed animals with him. Stacy noticed that the children never touched the scarecrow, and that he remained perfectly still like a statue. Stacy found it rather amusing. Of all the toys she had purchased for Taylor, a scarecrow made out of old clothes provided hours of entertainment. Andrew came back from his coffee run and helped clean the house. It was nearing the time that Amanda had to go, but Stacy still wanted to play with the kids before she left.

“Let's go play with the girls.” Stacy offered hugging Andrew.

“Sounds like fun, let’s do it.” Andrew replied, kissing her on the forehead. They walked out of the house to the lawn across the lawn where Stacy could only see the profile of the scarecrow still facing the house.

“Hey kids, do you want to jump in the leaves?” Stacy announced. More had fallen than yesterday and there was enough for a small child to jump in.

“Yeah!" Taylor and Amanda raced toward Stacy leaving their playthings near the scarecrow. They ran towards Stacy’s pile of leaves screaming with delight. Stacy looked at her watch Amanda’s mother would be here any minute.

“Girls, go get your stuffed animals, Amanda your Mom should be here any minute.” Stacy said.

“Ugg! Already? I want to stay.” Amanda protested.

“I am sure you guys can pick up where you left off next time.” Stacy said as she noticed Amanda’s mother come in the backyard, her eyes not moving off the phone that she had in her hand.

“Mommy, Mommy! I had so much fun!” Amanda cried to her mother.

“Mhmm that’s great honey. Come on, we have to go.” Amanda’s mother started giving a quick wave to Stacy’s family and then turned around.

“Mommy, I want to go inside. I don’t think that Mr. Scarecrow likes it that we are playing without him. We should probably stop”. Taylor announced.

“Nonsense, it's just a scarecrow. If you are tired, we will play more tomorrow,” Andrew said.

“Ok” Taylor said, running back to the house, very unlike a child that was tired.

“She left her animals out here." Andrew pointed out.

Stacy followed his gaze across the yard, to notice that the scarecrow’s head was turned, and his blue eyes were staring at them. She also noticed that the wide grin on his face started to run downwards, creating the appearance of cheeks making him more human-like.

“Was it turned in this direction the whole time?” Stacy asked.

“I don’t know. I wasn't paying attention. Amanda’s mother could have moved it.’ Andrew replied.

Stacy walked into the garden to get Taylor’s stuffed animals, but she could not shake the feeling of another being’s presence. She thought about it, then straightened the pumpkin’s head back facing the house. Leaving the pumpkin man in the yard, Stacy ran back into the house without making a second glance.

Back in the house, Stacy washed her hands and started making dinner as Taylor played with her Legos.

“So Taylor, how was playing with Amanda?" Stacy asked.

“We mostly talked and played with Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor said uninterested in the conversation.

“What did he say to you?” Stacy questioned.

“Well, he said that he likes the eyes that I gave him but he still can’t see well. He said that Daddy is a bad man and he wants to take things from Daddy the way he took things from him. I didn’t understand it. I told him that Daddy was nice and that Daddy can share because sharing is good. Then we played but I think he got mad when we started playing with Daddy. That’s ok, I will play with him tomorrow.” Taylor said still focused on her Legos.

Stacy furrowed her brow.

“Well, I want you to play with Daddy as much as you can.” Stacy said. After she was done in the kitchen, Stacy balanced though the Legos to talk to Andrew.

“That was very strange stuff.” Stacy said.

“Children have a very active imagination, but if you want to take it down you can.” Andrew suggested. He was reading a book upstairs by himself, just as interested in talking to Stacy as Taylor was.

“But she's attached to it, I can’t just destroy it.” Stacy said.

“I don’t know, destroy it, leave it up. Doesn’t matter to me.” Andrew said not looking away from his book.

Feeling frustrated, Stacy left the room. It had always been like this- Andrew was reliable when it came to having fun with Taylor, but uninterested when it came to actual parenting.

Back downstairs, Taylor was still playing with her Legos, and Edger started his odd behavior of crying at the French doors. Stacy scooped up the cat and put him in the basement, too emotionally drained to deal with him. She told herself she would give the scarecrow three more days and then tell Andrew to get rid of it.

Chapter Four

Andrew

I have had nightmares of Robert Nordstrom ever since I killed him. Sometimes he is there in the corner of my mind, just staring at me with glittering blue eyes like his scarecrow stands in our yard. In my dreams when I try to destroy him he seems to take something of mine, like an eye or a limb. After killing him the dream would continue but I would live out my life suffering as an amputee or blind. These dreams led me to roam the house at night. I wanted to destroy that scarecrow, but I knew that it would take it’s revenge, if not on me than on my family. So I will just watch it for now. My hope is that he will rot into the soft earth he came out of, and I would never have to deal with Robert Nordstrom or his ghost again.

Chapter Five

Stacy

The next day the ground was encrusted in a light frost. Unable to sleep well, Stacy slept in the living room downstairs. The morning sun woke her up and Stacy looked out at the lawn. The first thing that drew her eye was Mr. Scarecrow, although there was nothing more different with him this morning that she could see from this distance other than the fact that one of his gloves came off. Suddenly she heard movement from upstairs and the sound of little feet.

“Baby, what are you doing this early?” Stacy asked.

“I had nightmares. You were not in your room.” Taylor replied, clutching one of her stuffed animals near her face.

Stacy scooped up Taylor and put her on her hip.

“It’s ok. I could not sleep either. What do you want to do today?”

“I want to talk to Mr. Scarecrow.” Taylor said pointing at the backyard.

“Let's do something else today. How about a hayride?” Stacy suggested.

“No, I want to talk to him”. Taylor protested.

“Err, ok, but only for a few minutes and then we are going to go to the hayride.” Stacy said, walking out the back yard as Taylor skipped next to her.

When they reached Mr. Scarecrow, it was obvious things had changed. His round pumpkin face had rotted away to reveal a more human-like skull making his eyes more sunken in. When Stacy put Mr. Scarecrow’s glove back on the stake she noticed that the wood on the stake decayed in the shape of a wrist. Taylor started to whimper and hide behind Stacy.

“Mr. Scarecrow is more angry today. He wants to hurt Daddy.” Taylor whispered to Stacy.

Stacy didn’t want to bother Andrew anymore during the day with the scarecrow.

“Let's go to the farm and take a hayride, then when we get back I will have Daddy talk to Mr. Scarecrow, Ok?” Stacy said.

She grabbed Taylor’s hand and guided her towards the driveway, frequently checking her back.

When they got home, it was almost sunset. Stacy quickly busied herself with dinner. As soon as the sun went down, Edgar started crying at the French windows.

“Edger, stop it.” Stacy muttered, grabbing the flashlight and pulling back the curtain. The night was bright and she could see the gleam of the scarecrow's head against the moon.

“Mommy, what's going on?” Taylor whined.

“Nothing babe. It’s just Edger. It’s time to go to bed.” Stacy scooped up Taylor and led her towards her room. Up on the second story, Stacy got Taylor ready for bed, opening the windows to let in the perfect autumn sleeping weather.

Thump Thump Thump

“Mommy, what's that? Is that Mr. Scarecrow outside?” Stacy looked out the window. It was hard to make anything out, but in the place of the pumpkin man there was only a stick left where he once stood.

‘Yes he is out there somewhere. Here go to bed now.” Stacy tucked Taylor in.

“Mommie”. Taylor whined.

“Taylor, nothing is going to get you here. Now go to bed,” Stacy ordered, giving her daughter a kiss on the cheek.

“Everything will be alright.” Stacy said, closing the door behind her. The house was well lit as Stacy walked down stairs. Grabbing a flashlight Stacy walked outside on the back porch and showed it to the dark lawn. Frisking the flashlight over the lawn Stacy now saw clearly the face of Robert Norstrum in the garden.

“Bob?” Stacy screeched, dropping the flashlight in the house. The light scattered and fell onto the floor breaking the bulb. Stacy raced back in the house and fumbled for a new flashlight in her cabinet, frequently keeping her eye on the yard behind her. Grabbing the flashlight in her hand Stacy undid the lock on the french windows and stepping out into the night, not noticing her husband watching her from the kitchen.

Chapter Six

Andrew

I heard her yell his name and run out into the dark. At this point there was no doubt that the pumpkin contorted to the shape of a man’s face though decay and now resembled a man with blue eyes, whether that man was Robert I had my doubts. Nevertheless, the scarecrow was bothering everyone in this house, so I had to do something. I did not intend on hurting Stacy as I walked slowly behind her, crowbar in my hand to destroy the creation that was on my property. It was only when I stopped a few yards away when I saw her reach out the thing and touch the pumpkin man’s rotten flesh. My mind raced as I realized that by removing Robert from the picture, it did not replace me in her heart. My wife was the precious thing that Robert took. As this occurred to me a numbness came upon me as I ran toward the scarecrow to destroy it. I must have tripped on a massive root in the yard while I was running toward her because the crowbar landed squalry on top of her head. She yelped in pain or surprise as she fell toward the scarecrow. The light was low, but I could see that she lay motionless around a thick spray of dark red liquid. There was no running from what I had done. Even if she were to be still alive, I would have to try to explain to people what happened - the police or the hospital or something. She was too far away from the house to claim that she fell from our bedrooms. Suddenly I saw vines emerging from the pumpkin wrapping around her body. I hurled the crowbar again and again at the pumpkin destroying it’s rotten grotesque face. I missed a few times creating a soggy pile of brains and pumpkin at my feet. When the task was complete I buried her in the garden and tilled in the pumpkin plant as much as I could. The next day I tilled the garden and called 911 to report a missing person. It wasn’t until Taylor woke up to discover that her mother had disappeared in the night that the thought of raising her alone came to me.

After a few years had gone by it was clear that Robert took more than my wife that day. Like my dreams, I now walk around mentally suffering and disfigured. My lawn is filled with pumpkin sprouts that I constantly hack with a fear that a pumpkin will appear again. On May 16, 2021 I thought Robert Northstorm was out of my life, but now he haunts me every day.

#writing #horror #short story #short fiction #horror writing #goosebumps #creative writing

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itsclydebitches · 4 years

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Title: Mightier Than the Sword (Chapter Four)

Fandom: Witcher

Summary: A month after the events of “Rare Species,” Geralt slinks his way into an inn and is faced with the question of how an emotionless man apologies. (TV!canon with some details drawn from the books and Wild Hunt.)

Pairing: Slow burn Geralt and Jaskier

Word Count (This Chapter): 2,486

Where to read it: Below or on AO3

“See?” Jaskier said. “This is why I must... revise our adventures, so to speak. No one would ever believe me if I told them the truth.”

He was gesturing to the two men kneeling in a patch of wet leaves, both heads bent to expose their necks, a common act of submission in these parts of Temeria. The elder of the two snuck out a hand to wrap around the wrist of his companion.

“Please don’t hurt us, Master Witcher,” he said, no longer boasting the confident tone of a man who thought himself king of the wood. “Me and my son were just lookin’ for some supper. That’s it. I swear it to you. We didn’t mean to interrupt you an’ your... ah...”

Jaskier leaned close, his shirt just a hair’s breadth from Geralt’s armor. “Ohhh yes, please finish that sentence. What do you think I am? I’m not his ‘friend’ as I fear we’ve already butted heads like rams over that one. Not his ‘bard’ either as I’m far more than just some tawdry performer. Your ‘companion,’ perhaps? Eh, makes me sound like some sort of escort.”

With a sigh Geralt sheathed his sword, watching the men visibly relax. Rather funny that they thought this made him less dangerous. “He’s my curse.”

“Oh! Curse? Thanks. Thanks ever so much for that. I’ll just toss ‘He’s my curse’ next to ‘Filling-less pie.’ In fact, I should start a list. The many insults of Geralt of Rivia. Provide enough of them and I might just get a song out of it. Go on then. Anything else to add? My quill awaits.”

Geralt didn’t consider himself particularly skilled at reading people. Not unless he sought the signs of murder and betrayal. Yet in that moment he would have bet Roach that Jaskier was... teasing him. Just something about the hands on his hips and the hint of a smile. He knew now that Jaskier went quiet when he was hurt, as Geralt had witnessed just moments before. This performance didn’t compare to the tiny ‘How?’ he’d spoken, head dipped down towards his knees.

So Geralt attempted... something. Another apology maybe.

“I’m done for now,” he said, trying for the tone that he sometimes heard long-suffering wives using to discuss their husbands. Some of it must have gotten through because Jaskier rolled his eyes heavenward, ‘for now’ muttered on the tip of his tongue.

Meanwhile, the man had gathered courage enough to lift his head. “I’m sorry,” he whispered. “You... won’t be attackin’ me an’ my boy?”

No, of course they wouldn’t. Over the remains of yesterday’s breakfast Jaskier, never one to give up an opportunity for storytelling, explained that they’d initially feared them. His dear witcher only drew his sword as a precaution, not a warning, and there had never been a reason to kneel like that, so sorry about your trousers. Funny though it was. Now then, what brings you two this far out for a bit of dinner?

“Game’s scarce nowadays,” Yoven said, tearing into the meat of a small bird. He’d likewise introduced his son, Lin, a quiet boy more interested in his boots than the conversation. He ate his own fill when it was handed to him though and kept one shoulder pressed to his father’s at all times. “Need to keep headin’ deeper. Every fortnight it seems. Don’t know what we’re gonna do when the snows hit.”

Geralt felt the same. He’d wanted something substantial for the two of them, especially with winter on the horizon, but he’d had to settle for those warblers and the occasional grub. Jaskier had expressed his displeasure—quite vocally—at Geralt eating whatever he came across in the soil, but what was taste to a witcher? It was an easy source of protein they couldn’t afford to pass up, not now that the nights were growing longer and the air crisper with each passing breath. Soon all but the monsters would be in hibernation and Geralt didn’t think Jaskier could stomach a Nekker heart if he wasn’t willing to eat a measly worm.

It was a problem he hadn’t thought about when Jaskier had first joined him, not when the weather was kind and the chance of him staying past the next town nothing but a well-hidden fantasy. Now, with Fall nearing its end and this unspoken agreement between them, questions of a practical nature had begun to surface. How would he feed them? Would Jaskier survive the cold? Geralt tried to remember everything he’d learned about human physiology and how it compared to a witcher’s. How long could Jaskier go without fresh water? Surely not the two weeks Geralt could manage. Some night when food was once again scarce and he was weary from battle, would he remember that risom berries were fatal to everyone else, or would Geralt mistakenly offer him a handful of poison? How long could a human travel before exhaustion took hold? If he were injured what salves were safe to use? Would Jaskier even tell him these things, or would he insist it was all fine up until he collapsed? It hadn’t been terribly long since that day at the swamp, but with each passing moment Geralt grew more and more consumed by the same realization: humans were not meant to walk the Path.

Yet here Jaskier sat, creating a mirror to Lin and Yoven. The only difference was the absence of touch and Geralt suddenly had the strong urge to press their shoulders together, completing the picture.

If he were humble, Geralt would lead them to the next prosperous settlement and ask Jaskier to sing. Drum up some of the coin he could clearly earn and share it with him, securing their survival.

If he was smart he’d lead them both to Kaer Morhen for the winter, where food and protection were plenty and he needn’t fear a sudden shift in their host’s hospitality. However, the thought of bringing Jaskier to a witcher’s fortress...

If he were both, Geralt would simply leave the bard behind.

All these thoughts passed through him in a moment, following the tail of Jaskier’s expression as he watched Yoven devour cold, congealing meat. A mere second to assess the situation as he would a battle. Then the conversation continued.

Yoven explained that they were from another small town just three miles from here, one of Temeria’s many. Indistinguishable unless you considered that they specialized in building and exporting wagons as opposed to fish, herbs, nets, weapons, boots--whatever else one might need to continue with a war. Or life. It amounted to much the same. Does your town have a name? Jaskier asked. Not unless you count the profanity with which most referred to it. Are you and your witcher heading somewhere in particular? Not really. Wherever we’re needed, and Jaskier ended his comment with a little laugh. As if the concept of anyone needing him was a joke in and of itself.

Geralt, meanwhile, was watching the boy.

“You’ve something to say,” he announced, startling all three. Indeed, it was an easy enough conclusion, even without Lin’s guilty look. Geralt may not have had Jaskier’s talent for small talk, but he could always tell when someone held something back. His livelihood depended on it.

“Well? You can speak freely. We don’t bite,” and Geralt bared his teeth, ignoring the glare Jaskier shot at him.

“We really don’t,” he insisted.

It was Yoven who opened his mouth though. He must have been at least fifty years old, judging by the white in his beard. A substantial age for a human and, like the confident tone they’d first heard at his approach, Yoven was clearly used to commanding respect among his peers. He was halfway through insisting that no, his boy just had that air about him, when Lin finally looked up from his boots with,

“They can help.”

Three words in a mouse’s voice, but ones Geralt knew well. He leaned forward. Help meant trouble. Trouble meant coin. And coin meant he could give Jaskier something other than the soft bones of a bird to eat.

Yoven scowled. “There’s nothin’ to help with.”

“There is! Talden said—”

“Talden? ‘Don’t know how that mug got broke’ Talden? ‘I swear them chickens just ran off’ Talden? That Talden? You’d believe your own arse grew outta your nose if Talden told you so.”

“Lovely image,” Jaskier murmured.

Hmm. Perhaps a fool’s errand then. Or a case of a child crying werewolf. It wouldn’t be the first time some mischievous youngster had been scoffed at when they reported a sighting, only for folk to find them torn to pieces the next morn’, their lying punished too harshly. Only sure way to know was to get details, so Geralt eased himself off the log and knelt before Lin. No more attempts to frighten. Rather, he pulled in his shoulders to appear smaller than he was, kept his hands where Lin could see them, and allowed white hair to partially curtain his face, hiding a bit of the sallow skin and inhuman eyes. It wasn’t much, but Geralt had learned over the decades that even the smallest bit might help. Lives had been lost and saved on far less.

It was one of the reasons why he didn’t believe in destiny. Or, if she were real, why she must also be cruel. Only someone with ice in their heart would wager so much on whether another thought him decent to look upon.

Or simply thought of him at all.

“Talden,” Geralt said, trying to smooth out the rough edge in his voice. He didn’t succeed. “This a friend of yours?”

Lin nodded.

“He saw something? Something that scared him?”

“Heard it,” Lin said, snaking out a hand to grab hold of his father’s shirt. The older man allowed it with a sigh, gesturing for him to go on. It was only then that Geralt realized the child was far younger than he’d first assumed. Almost too young to be out in these woods. Especially if something stalked them.

Lin took a swallow of the water Jaskier offered before going on. “He heard somethin', Master Witcher. Just a few nights back. See, Laren’s our neighbor. Talden’s neighbor too. We all live close, so we all heard when she came screamin’ in the morn about her sister. She was gone. Vanished during the night. Old Roger said she’d run off with a boy from the town over, but Laren says there was no boy. No runnin’ off then either. And Talden told me he heard things a few hours before dawn. Monster things,” and he went back to chugging the water, whispering that last bit.

Geralt tilted his head. “Did Talden say what kind of ‘monster things’? What sounds precisely?”

“No, Master Witcher sir. I didn’t wanna know. Plugged my ears and kicked his shin for scarin’ me.”

Jaskier snorted. "A well landed blow.”

“It’s as I said.” Yoven picked up the thread. “I didn’ want my boy botherin’ you with this because there’s no ‘this’ to be bothered with. Laren and Sage moved here not a year ago. Real secretive girls. Kept to themselves and expected the rest of us to do the same. Old Roger—one of the elders, y’see. I’m set to take his place in a few years—tried to welcome them, but found both to be a prickly pair. Always goin’ off on their own. Not sayin’ where they went or when they’d return. I wouldn’t be surprised if Sage did have a little tryst going, sneakin’ away if her sis didn’t approve. They’re both young enough for such foolishness. But then comes Talden makin’ wild claims about hearin’ monsters during the night, only after the lass was revealed to be missing, mind. He was after attention, Master Witcher. Nothin’ more.”

But Lin shook his head. “Talden wouldn’t lie.” He withered under his father’s look. “He wouldn’t lie about that. He knows how monsters scare me. I, um... apologized after. For kickin’ him.”

Geralt stood. “And Talden didn’t change his story after your apology?”

“Nuh uh.”

“Anyone look for the woman? Tracks? Speak to the folk in the town over? Surely they’d notice if one of their young men had gone missing around the same time.”

Yoven sucked the last of the marrow from his bird and shrugged. “We’re carpenters, not trackers. If we were I might have better luck findin’ meat for us both. As for the town,” Yoven stuck out a finger and proceeded to swing it in an arc. “Which one? We’ve got any number of small towns in these parts, some more earning of the name than others. But it would take days to travel and talk to ‘em all. No one does that for a woman not wantin’ to be found.”

Geralt cursed.

All of little help then. Which was he to believe, the logic of flighty women and trickster boys, or the witcher's experience that told him sometimes folk really did disappear from their beds? For any other witcher the answer was easy. One look at Yoven's clothes and Lin’s greedy bites told the story of poverty. Even if Geralt returned victorious with a beast’s head in his hands, the chances of receiving any substantial reward were slim. Perhaps enough for one meal, maybe two, but was that worth the trouble it would take to receive them?

Of course, there were benefits to being an abnormal witcher. He needn’t decide things on his own, for one.

“Well?” Geralt said. Jaskier blinked stupidly up at him.

“Huh?”

“Should we look into it?”

“...You’re asking me?”

Yes. He was. Geralt felt the burn on his hand and the bruises in his chest. Day-old words flit across his mind like birds. “I just want your opinion.”

The smile was instantaneous. Blinding too. Jaskier went so far as to slap his knee, bursting into joyous laughter when Geralt rolled his eyes. He had his fun for a moment, then grew somber. A single nod and Geralt was already moving to collect his things.

“Yes. We should at least look into it. I’d never forgive myself if we left some poor maiden in peril. Plus, think of what a story it will make! A tale of intrigue and mystery, clandestine meetings and sibling love. That’s grown quite popular, you know.”

“Then pack up your things, Bard. It will be night soon.”

“Poet, Geralt. Poet.” But Jaskier dutifully bent to collect his papers, pressing each carefully between the pages of his notebook or rolling them up with string. Geralt made sure that none had escaped his notice, then took up Roach’s reins. She stamped a few times, impatient to be off.

Yoven was staring, mouth agape so that the rot on his back teeth showed. “You’re coming?”

“We’re coming,” Geralt confirmed and started off, now three sets of footsteps following behind him.

He only listened for the one.

#witcher #the witcher #twn #gerlion #geralt #jaskier #geralt x jaskier #witcherfic

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labyrinth-runner · 4 years

Text

Here We Are Now

TGT Chapter 5

Read the rest here

Not My Gif

A week had passed since they had been reunited. Estelle had spent the week dodging her father's questions about her potential suitors. Now, she was at Annalise's house to discuss their respective weeks.

"You snuck out of the house?" Annalise asked with a laugh. "Oh, Elle, that's rich!"

Estelle blushed slightly. "Well, I couldn't just leave him standing out there. That would be rude."

"Oh, of course. We wouldn't want to show poor manners to a man who shows up at your house well past the appropriate times to call on someone," Annalise smirked as she took a sip of tea. "Where did you go at that hour? I suppose all the respectable places would be closed by then."

"We went to Grub Street," Estelle murmured, pouring herself a cup of tea. The roses in Anna's garden were suddenly more interesting than the conversation at hand.

"Oh, Elle, you didn't!" Annalise gasped. "That's where all the people of ill renown and poor students live! That's hardly a place for you. How did Christian even know about it?"

"A friend from school lives there. You might actually like him," Estelle replied. "We actually had a lot of fun. I met some very intriguing people and we had deeper discussions than what normally is deemed appropriate in society."

"That actually does sound like a good time," Annalise smiled. "Perhaps the next time you sneak out, you'll have to stop by and fetch me... On second thought, I prefer my beauty rest. However, if this man that you think I'd enjoy ever happens to be around, you'll have to introduce me."

Estelle smiled, "Alright, Anna. If we're ever in the same place as Mr. Cavanaugh, I'll make sure to introduce you."

"But, only if I look alluring. If I'm having a poor complexion or hair day, please save me from the embarrassment. I only wish to put my best foot forward," Annalise said pointedly.

Estelle shook her head. "Of course, Anna. Wouldn't want a man to possibly fall for you at your worst. Then we'd know he'd really like you at your best."

"You know that's not what I meant," Annalise admonished. "I just... would rather not look like a garden gnome if I'm to meet a man who might become special to me. First impressions are important."

Estelle had to laugh. "Are they?"

Annalise tilted her head. "You know, you've never told me how you and Christian met."

Estelle blushed. "There's not much to tell. We were neighbors."

"Yes, but I've been to the country estate when you owned it. I know how far it is to the next house," Annalise shot back. "You're blushing. There is a story there, isn't there? Oh, Elle, don't leave your best friend in the dark! Come on, now, out with it."

Estelle sighed. "Anna, has anyone ever told you that you're a bit commandeering when it comes to conversations?"

"My mother always says that I'm a little too pushy for my own good, but I think that just makes me endearing," Annalise smirked.

Estelle rolled her eyes. "Well, since you asked. It's... an interesting story. Definitely not a great first impression..."

She was running. She hated her tutor, especially when they wanted to discuss philosophy when all she wanted to do was play. It was difficult to look out at the breeze blowing on the meadows and think that she'd have to spend her day stuck inside discussing men who have been dead for centuries when all she wanted was to smell the flowers and roll down hills until her dress was so soiled that her mother would yell. Estelle was only ten, and had an air of freedom and adventure about her that only young children had. That was why she'd snuck out. She'd asked to be excused to use the restroom and had climbed out the window, using the lattice on the side as a ladder to reach the ground. After peering around to make sure that no one would see her in order to tattle to her parents, she took off towards the far end of the estate. The grass was up to her chest as she walked through, and she could barely see her feet as she crested the hill. That was precisely how she had missed the fallen log in her path which sent her tripping end over head and rolling down the hill. She let out a cry of surprise as she spun down the grassy expanse until she saw a blur of color in her vision up ahead. What was that?

"Hey! Stop!" a voice called out, but it was too late. She had barrel rolled into something hard and less forgiving than grass, knocking the wind out of her.

"I-is the world done spinning?" she asked dizzily as she tried to straighten herself out. There was something squishy under her knee.

"Don't you know better than to roll down hills?" a voice replied.

Estelle peeked up at the owners... owner? It looked like there were two of them, but as her vision started to sort itself out, they morphed into one slightly annoyed boy's face.

"I didn't roll down the hill," Estelle said adamantly.

"No, I suppose you just happened to appear on top of me and my picnic then?" the voice shot back.

"No, I mean... I didn't intend to roll down the hill," Estelle corrected. "I tripped on a log."

"Oh," the boy replied. "Well, in that case I can't really blame you for smushing my sandwich."

"Sandwich?" she asked in confusion.

"Under your knee," the boy stated, helping her up so that she wasn't laying against his chest and between his legs anymore. As she pulled back to kneel on her heels, she noticed the jam sandwich under her knee, staining her dress.

"Oh, mother is going to kill me," she muttered as she lifted her knee to remove the squished sandwich.

"It was an accident. Surely she'll take that into account," the boy replied, offering her a cloth to wipe off the extra bits of jam on her dress.

"Well, she'll already be quite cross that I skipped my lessons. This will just be adding insult to injury," Estelle sighed.

"You skipped your lessons?" the boy asked in awe. "It seems we have a delinquent on our hands."

"I am not a delinquent! I just... wanted to be outside. It's such a nice day out. I didn't want to spend it cooped up inside studying philosophy."

"That is understandable. Philosophy is so much nicer outside," he smiled.

"What do you mean?" Estelle asked, tilting her head.

"Well, you can see bits of philosophy more clearly in nature. In nature there's a certain truth to things. Or at least, that's what my tutor says. I mostly see beauty, but I suppose there's a truth in that as well," the man replied.

"I think I'd prefer to take lessons with your tutor," Estelle grinned.

"What's your name? Perhaps I can convince my father to send a letter to your parents so that you may use my tutor," the boy offered.

"Estelle Devereux," she replied, holding her hand out to him.

"I'm Christian Thompson," he said with a curt nod, taking her hand. Instead of shaking it, he kissed the back of her hand. She looked away with a blush. This boy certainly was silly.

"Thompson," she murmured, "I think your father is a friend of mine. Your estate is Rouge Meadows, correct? I believe that we are neighbors."

"As close to neighbors as one can get in the country," Christian smiled. "It's nice to meet you. I've been wondering about the house that was built next door for a while now."

"I hope we can be more than just neighbors. With no one else around for miles, I hope we can become friends," Estelle smiled.

"I'd like that," Christian beamed.

Annalise laughed as Estelle finished her story. "I can't believe you landed in his sandwich!"

Estelle blushed, "Gravity has no care for where you land. Besides, according to Sir Isaac Newton, if Christian hadn't been there, it could have been a lot longer before I stopped rolling. However, that's beside the point. Not every first impression has to be good in order for the relationship to be."

Annalise nodded, "I suppose you're right." She looked out over her garden and sighed. "I'm looking forward to seeing new plants and displays this week at the Great Spring Show. I feel as though it's about time to change things up around here."

Estelle brightened. "Oh, I love the Great Spring Show. I heard they have at least five marquees this year at the Temple Gardens. There's been a lot of talk of this one called 'The Lover's Arch.' I'm excited to see it. Since it's open to almost anyone, perhaps I can see if Christian will invite Mr. Cavanaugh so that you can meet."

"That would be lovely," Annalise smiled, "However, if he cannot attend, it isn't the end of the world. Mr. Phillips will be there, and my mother seems to think he could be a suitable match for me. I just wish the man weren't so boring. He came to call on me a few days ago and he wouldn't stop discussing the grandfather clock in our drawing room, and you know how it is when you discuss time. It always passes by more slowly the more you mention it. I swear, Elle, it was the longest hour of my life."

Estelle chuckled. "If I may borrow one of your servants, I'll send a note to Christian."

Annalise nodded, ringing the bell for a maid to come forward. "Elizabeth, if you could fetch a paper, pen, and an envelope for Ms. Devereux, I would truly appreciate it."

"Yes, Miss," Elizabeth replied before going to fetch those items. When she returned she placed them on the table for Estelle. Estelle quickly penned a note and sealed it up, handing it back to her.

"If you could make sure this reaches it's destination, Elizabeth, that would be lovely. Thank you," Estelle smiled.

"Of course, Miss," Elizabeth nodded in deference.

Estelle turned back to her friend, "Well, Anna. This has been lovely. I should probably get going, but I'll see you at the Great Spring Show tomorrow."

"I'm excited for the fireworks at the end of the event."

Estelle smiled as she stood and smoothed out her skirts. "They're said to be spectacular this year. "

"Have a safe trip home," Annalise smiled as Estelle made her way back through the garden gate to her waiting carriage.

Estelle made her way home and enjoyed a quiet evening at home for the first time in days. It was almost odd to not have spent some part of the day with Christian, but she had to get used to it. After all, even if they were to get married someday, there could be times when they didn't see each other. She would have to learn to make do. That didn't change the fact that she was so very bored as she worked on her sewing pattern.

"Sister, that's the fifth time you've sighed in the past ten minutes," Mary grumbled. "If you're going to be like this, then just go to bed. The sooner you sleep, the sooner tomorrow can come."

"I suppose you're right," she sighed. "Maybe I'll go up to my room to write a bit before going to bed."

"I don't care what you do as long as you stop sighing in my ear. It is loud, obnoxious, and annoying," Mary snapped.

Estelle chuckled. "Alright, alright. I'm leaving."

She put her sewing pattern down and went up to retire for the evening. After getting dressed for bed, she sat down at her desk to write. Originally, she had planned on writing in her journal, but instead she found herself writing poems. The words poured out from her soul, and she realized upon rereading them, that they all were about Christian.

"Oh, I truly have it bad," she sighed at herself. A part of her grimaced upon hearing her sigh. Mary was right. It was irksome. With a shake of her head, she gave up and went to bed. Falling asleep in eager anticipation for the next morning.

When she awoke the next morning, she breezed through the hours before Christian came to fetch her for the Great Spring Show. She was excited. The Great Spring Show had always been one of her mother's favorite events of the season due to the colorful flower displays. She practically ran out the door when he arrived.

He had to chuckle at her enthusiasm. "Are you excited for the Garden Show?"

She smiled. "Yes, I am, Mr. Thompson. A whole bunch of flowers... I can almost smell them."

He smiled as he offered her his arm, taking in her green dress with a floral pattern on it. "I see you are dressed for the occasion."

She shrugged. "When in Rome."

"Well, Darling, you might be the loveliest flower there today," he grinned.

Estelle blushed, "Speaking of other attendees... will Mr. Cavanaugh be there? Annalise was hoping to meet him."

"I sent him the invitation. Whether or not he chooses to appear is up to him. William is a bit of a free spirit," Christian grinned.

"I figured as much," Estelle smiled, "Well, let's get going. Flowers wait for no one."

The two of them quickly made their way to the Temple Gardens, taking in the colorful explosion on the various marquees.

"I don't think I've ever seen so many flowers in one place," Estelle murmured in awe. The displays were spectacular. There was one that was in the shape of an Elephant, crowned with roses. It was titled the Maharaja. There were steps built into the side so that one could walk up to sit in the caravan of sunflowers on its back. They walked along, admiring the various displays until they came across Annalise waiting by a woman selling roses. Coincidentally, they saw Mr. Cavanaugh waiting across the way.

"William!" Christian called out, waving him over. The four met up near a bench off to the side of the foot traffic.

"Christian," William smiled, clapping him on the back. He then respectfully bowed to Estelle. "Ms. Devereux, a pleasure as always."

"Mr. Cavanaugh, I'd like you to meet my friend, Annalise Renton," Estelle said, gesturing to Anna. "Anna, this is Mr. William Cavanaugh."

William's eyes widened slightly as he met Annalise's eyes. He gallantly stepped forward to take her hand and kiss it. "Ms. Renton, I'm thoroughly enchanted by your presence."

Annalise blushed, "Mr. Cavanaugh, I've heard quite a bit about you."

William blushed, "All good things, I pray."

"Only the best," Annalise smiled.

With some reluctance, he let go of her hand. Christian and Estelle shared a smile and a look.

"Well, since Mr. Thompson is escorting me around, I think it would only make sense for you to escort Ms. Renton, don't you, Mr. Cavanaugh?"

William swallowed, and nodded. "O-of course. I would be delighted." He offered Annalise his arm. "Ms. Renton, may I have the honor?"

"You may," Annalise replied coyly, slipping her arm into his. The couples broke off to explore more, but Estelle kept an eye on her friends.

"They're getting along quite nicely," Estelle murmured to Christian.

"Even if they are in two different leagues," Christian replied sadly.

Estelle felt a slight pang of guilt. "Do you think I shouldn't have introduced them?"

"I don't know, Darling. Part of me feels as though we've set them up for failure, but they are also adults and can make their own decisions. If I'm being honest, William does have some background in society. He just turned his back on it for the Bohemian lifestyle. His sister is currently in charge of the estate, but I'm sure if he ever wanted to come back, he'd be welcomed with open arms," he explained.

Estelle nodded. That made her feel a little better.

They stopped in front of a maze. It was made out of hedges and potted trees.

"Step up and test the strength of your love!" a barker said beside it.

"How do you suppose we do that?" Christian asked, taking the bait.

"You see, lad. You and your lovely lady here will each enter the maze from two different sides. You'll each be given a map, but the directions are for your partner's path. It's up to you to make it to the center of the maze together, because you need two hands to open the gate under the lover's arch which leads to the stairs to get out of the maze," the barker replied as he pointed at the stairs. They were decorated with a rainbow made of flowers, going over the entire maze, leading from what was presumably the center to the a path outside the maze which led back to the event.

"What do you say, Ms. Devereux, shall we test our relationship?" Christian asked in amusement.

"I think it will be fun," she smiled.

Christian paid the man for their maps and then they lined up at their respective starting lines. When the barker nodded at them, they entered the maze.

"Alright, Ellie, it looks like you need to take a right at the fork up ahead," Christian called out.

"And you had better take the middle path," Estelle replied.

Together, they worked their way through the maze of green. The further along they got, the darker the sky became as the day whittled away. When they broke into the opposite sides of the center clearing, it was like an explosion of color between the sunset above and the flowers around. There were red roses, pink peonies, yellow sunflowers, and many more flowers that Estelle didn't even recognize. She slowly turned in a circle, taking it all in before facing the heart shaped arch covered in flowers. There was a door with instructions as to how to open it.

"This is beautiful," she murmured.

"It is," Christian replied, coming up behind her. He gently wrapped his arms around her waist as they spent a moment together in silence, just admiring the view.

"I suppose we should figure out the gate," she replied, looking up at the sky. "It's getting late. They should be starting the end of event fireworks soon."

"In a moment," he replied. "I was wondering if we could talk about something important."

Estelle turned in his arms to face him. "Of course."

"Well, I think this maze proved the strength of our bond rather nicely," he smirked.

"We did manage to get through it together," she smiled back.

"And that's just it. We did it together, just like old times. You make all of this not feel like I'm just playing a part. My father and I have been having some difficulties at home due to how I present myself and the fact that I probably talk too much. I love the fact that with you, I can just be myself, even if for a moment. Part of me... wants to make that moment last forever," he murmured, gently reaching out to cup her cheek. He stroked his thumb across her soft skin. The darkness was quickly setting in around them as the sun finally disappeared below the horizon. All around, little fireflies came to life from within the flowers.

"That's the problem with moments," she replied, "Their own nature means that they can't last forever."

"I suppose I'll just have to create so many moments that it feels as if they never end," he smiled, pulling her into him.

She broke out in a grin as he hugged her close, spinning her around a bit. When he set her back down, she felt that familiar magnetic pull into him. Her eyes closed as his hands settled on her face to bring her in for a kiss. She melted into him as flickers of light lit up the sky as fireworks boomed themselves into noisy existence before twinkling out into the vast expanse of the night sky. It was funny, really, seeing the physical manifestations of the way kissing him made her feel. As the fireworks started to speed up, crackling in a crescendo above them to signify the finale, they pulled apart, looking up at the sky to watch. Well, Estelle watched. Christian was too busy watching how the lights illuminated Estelle's face, highlighting her features in a way that he wish he could put into words. A silence settled in after the last firework fizzled out of existence with less fanfare than had accompanied its creation. Estelle's eyes settled back down from the sky to find Christian's blue gaze intent on her face.

"They'll be looking for us," she replied.

"We should go find them," he agreed.

Together, they opened the gate and crossed the rainbow bridge back to the event. They found their friends deep in discussion on a bench.

"There you two are," Annalise grinned. "We were beginning to think that you had left us behind."

"And leave without saying goodbye? Perish the thought," Estelle teased.

Annalise's eyes narrowed on Estelle and Christian, taking in how they were standing with each other. Something had changed. That much she knew.

"Well, Ms. Renton, I've had a lovely evening with you," William announced.

"Perhaps we could share a carriage?" Annalise proposed.

"That will be a trip for the two of you," Christian replied. "I'll be walking Ms. Devereux home. It isn't far and it's a lovely night."

Annalise nodded. "Alright, well, take care, you two." Then, she turned to Mr. Cavanaugh. "Shall we?"

"We shall," he smiled as he led her away.

Christian and Estelle chuckled as they watched them leave.

As Estelle and Christian made their way back to her home, they walked in silence for a moment.

"Thank you," Christian finally said.

"For what?" she asked in confusion.

"Always supporting me. With everything going on with at home, having your support has meant a lot," he murmured.

Estelle tipped up and kissed his cheek. "I'll always be here for you. Besides, the sooner that society sees that the Bohemians value some of the same things as they do, the better. For instance, that flower show would be a Bohemian's dream. All that beauty in one place? Truly magnificent."

He gave her a slight smile. "I guess you're right."

They came to a stop in front of her house. "Well, here we are now. This has been a perfect night," she sighed in content.

"It really has," he grinned.

"Will I see you soon?" she asked.

"I hope so," he replied, "Well, good night, Ms. Devereux."

He bowed slightly to her before turning to leave, but she took hold of his arm to stop him.

"Christian, wait."

"What is it?" he asked in concern.

"Well... I couldn't let you leave without letting you know that I want to create as many moments with you as you'll allow," she said softly.

He broke out in a wide grin, "And now that you have?"

"Now I can say good night," she smiled, gently letting her hand drop from his arm.

"Good night, Ellie."

"Good night, Christian."

Estelle made her way back into her house, leaning her back against the door as she heard it click closed behind her. Oh, what a night.

#The Greatest Thing #Christian x OC #Ch 5 #Here We Are Now

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weeping-petals · 4 years

Text

Loser of the Game

A New Game - Part 2

Word Count - 4,330

Steven is captured by a strange gem who he has no hint or knowledge of. With a loose handle on his gem powers, he is at the total mercy of this villain.

The shades jammed over his face helped somewhat when the light blazed, though long after spots still swarmed through his vision. It didn’t help that he was being hauled with the erratic movements of the character that dragged him out of Garnet’s grip. He was without his hamburger backpack, and without the other gems, totally unprepared to be kidnapped. They would come for him. He hoped they could find him.

With some time his vision began to clear, though he almost wished it hadn’t. The person, or gem he supposed was accurate, kept up in the high branches of the trees. She raced the length of branches and leapt off, or swung arm and foot. One arm kept coiled tightly around his shoulders and waist, and tucked beside her chest – like a football or something – still, the strong vertigo gave Steven the impression that any moment he would plummet like a sack. All around branches and leafy clumps swept by, sometimes the ground zoomed within mere inches. This was worse than any ride at Funland, at least he could go on those a couple dozens times and get desensitized to the g-forces. He felt very near dying. The gem cackled, rambling about a thing or other that he didn’t quite understand.

“Oh boy! Gee, that—” A whirlwind of laughter burst from her, as she flipped between another set of branches. She landed among a cluster of limbs and bounced, legs coiled, “—I haven’t had that much fun in, oh, how long? Decades! The look on their faces.” More laughter.

The shades went spiraling from Steven’s face, lost somewhere far below. He crushed his eyes shut, only comforted by the strange hold looped about his body. At least his arms were free, and this allowed him to hold on as tight as he could to the coils. In some agonizing long time, the reckless slinging came to a halt. He dared not open his eyes, but could tell by the sensation of blood rushing to his head, that he was upside down. How high up would they be now? Please, don’t drop him! She hurt the others. Did she plan to hurt him?

“Lemme get a good look at you. Wowwie, how you’ve grown!” The strange gem snickered. “You’re a proper handful now. And a star of your very own. Look’t that, must’ve gottan Greg’s hair!” She continued turning him over, laughing. “Have you poofed yet? Or is this a glowup?”

“E-excuse me,” Steven stammered. He dared creep an eye open. “Do I... know you?” The expression the gem gave him, was not what he wanted. He shut his eye again. They were falling—

“AHHH!”

Their plummet braked gradually, and the odd gem flipped over. She landed on her feet, still holding Steven aloft, examining, tilting him side-to-side. “You don’t remember me?”

“Um, should I?”

“Should you?” she echoed back. Her eyes narrowed, the lines on her cheeks arching. “Should you!”

That was probably not the best response. Steven tried to get a better grip of the twists wound over his chest, but the loops were unwinding. “Don’t drop me! Don’t drop me!”

“I’m not gonna drop you. Think I’m like the others, careless and aloof.” She scoffed. “Did they, uh, mention anything about me?”

“Er, no. Why wou—” His better sense of self-preservation ended that trail of thought. “Are you a… Crystal Gem?” She tossed her head back and laughed.

“Don’t lump me with the grit.” She set Steven down on the branch. Abruptly, he dropped to his tummy and wrapped his arms over the tree limb. The gem crouched, leaning close. “You really don’t remember, do you? Your best friend?”

“I just told you! I’m sorry! I have no idea who you are! I’ve never ever heard about you, until…” How long had he been kidnapped? “Just now!”

“Not even a snide comment, vague annoyance? No ambiguous so-so, about dear, pitiful, discarded Spinel?” She clasped her hands in front of her chest.

“Spinel?” That was what Garnet said. Shouted, actually. “Is that your name?” The gem deflated, melting over the branch. “Sorry.”

“No honorable mentions or a wee cameo? Gee, that’s depressing. Hah.” From where her body hung over the tree branch, she peered up into Steven’s face. He locked his eyes tight and tried to shuffle away. “Pfff, I shouldn’t be surprised. Yee… left an impression, I did. Not the best, I guess. One little….” The voice faded out, and the invading presence dissipated.

Steven chanced a glance. The Spinel moved off and was seated a few feet from him. The dark markings under her eyes resembled warpaint, and the ratty pigtails drooped down her back. He had absolutely no recollection of where or when she might’ve appeared in his life, but she insisted. And she knew his friends, and they really knew her. Knew enough to clash and fight it out, try and get him out of there ASAP.

Steven cast his eyes over the branch side, and immediately regretted. THEY WERE SO HIGH UP! Not only were they in a giant tree, it was a giant tree growing out from the side of a cliff. Below them was nothing but fog and birds. BIRDS FLYING BELOW THEM.

He smothered the scream in his throat and whined. “Hey! hello!” he groaned.

“Hmm?”

“Are you… do you plan to hurt me?” His shoulders and knees ached from how hard he was locked to that tree.

“N..oooo.” A sly grin split her face as she turned to him. “What gave you that idea?”

“You kidnapped me!” And the inquiry about if he poofed or not. Steven internally screamed. “Can we please go to the ground. Nice and gentle, like a feather. Please!”

“You afraid of heights, or sumthin’?”

“No!” Steven felt like he might just slip through the solid tree. Or slip off the side, the trees surface was slick and glossy. “I’m just uncomfortable about being a million feet in the air above jagged rocks!”

“We’re not that high up. And if anything, we’re above water. Or more trees.”

“This is high up!” he yelped. “And I bruise easily.” He tried glaring at her, but Spinel didn’t look near ready to do anything other than be pleased by his fear.

“I’ll take you to the ground, on the condition you answer a few questions.”

“Okay,” Steven hissed. “But can we do that once I’m on solid, stable ground? Wait!” Spinel rose, but dallied to approach. “Take me to actual ground. I don’t wanna be stuck in a bottomless chasm.”

“Aw, no fun,” she sniggered. She strolled over casual as could be and gripped his shoulders. “Leggo. I’m not prying you loose, ya lil grub.”

It took a few seconds and some mental coaxing, but Steven allowed his joints to unclamp. A little. The gem’s arms snaked around his body and she hefted him up; Steven did NOT like the sensation of open air around his feet, and the recollection there was absolutely nothing but open abyss. He poured every ounce of self-control into not thrashing, and settled for grabbing the gem by the shoulder-pad thing.

“I’m not gunna drop you,” muttered Spinel. She began a janky ascent, bouncing branch to branch, headed to the precipice high above. She did tug Steven close to her side, and he in turn wrapped arms and legs around her neck and torso. Tight like a koala.

“I don’t have very good control of my gem powers,” he blurted.

“So you have gem powers?”

“I don’t know! Don’t fall.”

Spinel unlatched an arm, and used it like a grappling line. “You need to learn some trust.”

“You kidnapped me!” He buried his face into her neck. Quite abruptly, they dropped. He howled, even after Spinel regained control. “What was that?!”

“Slipped.”

“Don’t do that!” They were going to die.

What felt like days gone by, Spinel stopped moving. Steven refused to open his eyes expecting a trick or something worse. The arm came undone from his chest, prompting him to reinforce his grip. “Check it out. Solid ground. Or would you prefer I remove you by force, and if I do, I’ll hang you in the highest tree.”

That got Steven to look. The forest floor, as promised. He sprang off Spinel and landed, undertaking a tense stance fully prepared to run. Though no doubt if he fled at his best speed, she’d catch up. He looked around, hoping for some familiarity to their surroundings. With any luck, the others wouldn’t be far away, or he could make a break and catch up with them in short time.

Everything looked foreign, and the thicket was dense. The final coup de grâce was it getting dark.

“Why are you in my forest?” The question brought him back. Steven didn’t have great vigor, and the gem looked like a sprinter. A rubber band, even.

“You’re forest? Doesn’t it—”

“I’ll ask the questions!” she snapped, stamping a foot. “Why are you here? Did they come for me? Are they here, to take me away? Put me someplace? Bubble me!”

Steven took a step back. “N-no. Uh, something about a temple, and a warp pad breaking? I kind of forgot?” He tried smiling and looking innocent, but the gem glowered, expression ominous. Today would be the day he would die. Farewell, Cookie Cats.

“Fine,” she exhaled. And began walking away. When Steven remained rooted (pun intended), she looked back. “What? You wanna stay here? Or, would you rather I carry you? Through the trees? It was such fun the first time, ya think?” Steven hurried forward, in no great hurry despite the threat. The shadows among the trees began to thicken, but some of the crystals dotting the soil and tree trunks shimmered with an inner light. “This is going to take forever,” she grumbled.

“Um, can I ask a question?”

“Ya just did.”

“Okay. Can I ask one more question, after this one?”

“I can’t promise I’ll answer, but shoot. What’s on your mind?”

Steven climbed over a shattered chunk of chalcedony and hurried, already huffing with the effort. The gem had long strides, and any obstacles she need only step over. “Where are we going?”

“The temple. That’s where you and the others were going, wasn’t it? I have a hunch they’ll head there, first.”

“Oh. Really?”

She looked over her shoulder. “You don’t have much of a choice, d’ya?”

Well, he lived a good life. It wasn’t long, but, mostly good. “Can I ask… more questions? And maybe get answers.” Spinel shrugged. She did stop at the top of a steep incline and waited for him to catch up. Steven struggled, with his rasping breath and the stiffness in his joints. Likely from holding to the tree so tightly.

“How do you know, the others? Aren’t you a Crystal Gem?” The gem choked and laughed. It was abrupt and startled him, but the thick guffaws bled off and the gem was looking at him. A smile repelled by her dark eyes graced her face.

“What makes you think I’mma Crystal Gem?” She reached behind her back and touched the area where her shoulder blades would be. “No star.”

“You knew about the stars,” Steven tentatively added. He didn’t want to get abandoned out here. Or, hung from a high tree branch.

“Hmm. Clever. Good catch.” She nodded. “Pretty remarkable the others remembered me at all. Or, maybe they tried to forget me, and couldn’t do that right. I don’t know which is worse.” Her shoulders sagged. “Tried to erase me, did they? Heh-heh. I hoped they would’ve… kept the better parts of me. There were good times. I remember the good times.” She shook her head.

“Um, so, you were a Crystal Gem?” That brought some hope to Steven. He might be safe around her, and perhaps wasn’t in immediate danger. That left only the question, why the fighting? The anger.

“A while back. C’mon. I’m pretty sure Garnet will go with the scenario where I leave you at the temple. Unless… something goes wrong.”

“What could go wrong?” Steven had to haul himself over a log. Sure, it might’ve been easier to go around, it wasn’t a long log. But he wanted to go over, like she did.

“Not too sure. Anything, I guess. I’ve lived here for a while. I mean, pfft, I don’t keep track. How old are you?”

“Thir…teen.” He stopped when she did.

Spinel was gazing off, at clusters of crystals jutting from the roots breaching the soil. “Thirteen. Thiiiirteeen? You sure you’re not, five or somethin’?”

“Nope. Pretty sure. Thirteen birthdays. Thirteen birthday cakes. Thir— er, are you okay?”

“Nothing! It’s nothing!” She cackled, holding her side. “What’s a decade to me? Nothin’, that’s what. I’ve stood around waiting longer. No biggie. Hurry those legs!” She swiped a tear from her eye and resumed, down an incline. Steven was eager to catch up. A downward slope, at last!

“She won’t… hurt him. She can’t!” Pearl insisted. She leaned on a tree, eyes downcast and shoulders shaking.

Garnet struggled and sought, but couldn’t focus on browsing through the scenarios and keeping the team together. Even Amethyst for the most part was quiet, and her light jests came dry, void of mirth. To top it all off, the sun was descending beyond the distant mountains. The hamburger backpack she carried, as it should be, sat nestled against her back.

A purplish owl descended from the canopy, as it careened for the floor, the shape flashed and suddenly Amethyst was coming in for a landing.

“Jerk jock hawk!” she screamed, skyward.

“No luck?” Pearl presumed. She gripped Amethyst by the shoulder’s and looked her in the face. “Anything? Please tell me you saw something!”

“Naw. Got halfway to the temple, and nada.”

“Is it wise to try and head her off at the temple?” Pearl directed to Garnet. “She’ll reason that’s the first place we would look. That’s what she does!”

“Precisely.” Garnet stepped by the others, encouraging them to continue. “He’s bait. The temple is the trap.” She dithered, while squeezing through a tight knit of bent trunks. “We will stay vigilant and cautious. Though she can’t preset traps, she seems firmly established in this area.”

“Like she stands a chance against all of us?” Amethyst tucked her hands behind her head and followed. Garnet gave her a stoic stare.

“Last I checked, we were caught by surprise. Let’s not have that repeated.”

“Still, she ran away,” Amethyst insisted. “That’s what she does.”

“We don’t want her to run away, again!” Pearl harped. “Why now? Why suddenly reappear? I was certain the warp…” she trailed off. It was too awful to think, too awful to speculate. One time, Spinel was their friend. But when Rose… they all took it hard, but Spinel was impossible. Inconsolable. They needed to find the two and fast. Rose had warned her, made her promise to keep Spinel away from Steven at all costs.

“Even if it means bubbling her,” Rose spoke, calm and refined. “Someday, we can try releasing her. But she’s too wild and unpredictable. And if I’m honest, I’m frightened of what she could do. She’s not the Spinel I used to adore.”

What she could do was take outdated gem tech, risk blowing them all up, Steven included, and drag the child off into the forest where, who knows what lurked.

Pearl hastened after the others, the three charging through the undergrowth pursuing the general direction of the destination. She dreaded what danger Steven could be in, and what his chances for survival would be. Time was running against them, escaping like it always did.

“Are all gems stretchy? I’ve seen Garnet stretch, but not like you. You’re like, a melty twizzler.” Steven yawned.

“I’m unique.” Spinel set Steven down on the other side of a massive cluster of crystal, and recalled her arm. The shimmering light of her gem gave distinction to their surroundings, while turning everything a crimson-rose hue. It made Spinel’s face eerie, but Steven liked seeing where his feet were going better. Still, he stumbled periodically on uneven lumps that looked like harmless shadows.

Throughout the trek, he came up with a variety of questions to quench his curiosity. Most revolved around why he never saw or heard of her, which topics the Spinel danced around effortlessly. Time and again, Steven edged towards her history with the other Crystal Gems. But same as her reason for being in the forest, she skittered aside. A few inquiries about herself the would humor, such as the flashes she utilized to blind the gems – and himself. She was much the same as the other gems, but that was the most of the information she would offer.

“Why won’t you tell me why you and the others were fighting?”

“That’s confidential. And I told you, we have our… differences.”

“That’s no reason,” Steven countered. He had his hands jammed in his pockets and his arms pressed to his sides. There was a coat in his backpack. Alas. “There has to be a reason.”

“Nah-uh. They don’t like me, and that’s the facts.” She looked very creepy when she cast a grin back, eyes wily and swirly. How did she do that? More importantly, why? “That’s all there is. Leave it alone.”

Dissatisfied but unwilling to pursue the topic further, Steven did as asked, “How much further to the temple?” Simultaneously, losing his footing and stumbling over a shallow pit. “Ow.” He stopped momentarily to knock a few stones out of his flipflops.

“Another two miles, I think.” Spinel came to a halt and cast her gaze to the canopy. “We would’ve been there forever ago if we’d taken the treetops. Heh. Old game.”

“WHAT? We we’ve been walking for years.”

“Don’t be so dramatic, you pitiful lil grub, it’s only been five.” She paused. “Years.”

“Are you really taking me to the temple, or are we going in circles? Be honest!” Steven was bruised, sore, and hungry. He wanted a snack more than finding the temple, or reuniting with the Crystal Gems. And if he looked deep in himself, he knew he was scared too. But he didn’t want to acknowledge that. To believe he was frightened, would mean he was in real danger.

“We’re going to the temple,” the gem rasped. “If I really wanted, I could just leave you here and go on by myself. Why should I bother leading you astray? You do it so slowly, anyway.”

Steven inched back, entertaining the idea that he might’ve been better off on his own. “If you left me, I might just be able to find my way to the temple all on my own. I am a pretty capable person.”

Spinel blinked slowly, looking bored. “No. You couldn’t. You’re hopeless on your own. More so, when you got your other friends with you,” she sneered, none too kindly. “Four minds, and nothing between them.”

“Oh yeah!” He barked. “I got you now, which means we’re both hopeless!” He jarred, realizing – by the shot expression the gem wore – that was an insult. He clasped his hands over his mouth and retreated a step, losing his footing all at once and tumbled to his butt.

Spinel broke down with laughter. “Whew! You got me there. No argument!” The chuckles faded as she observed Steven, gawking at her like he was ready for the grave. “You look a tad trail weary, pardner.” Steven scooted backwards when she approached. She held out her hand. “C’mon. You’re eager to get back with… them.”

Hesitant, Steven took the offered hand. He gave a yelp when Spinel hefted him off the ground completely and plopped him onto her back. He wrapped his arms around her neck, fully expecting her to shoot skyward like before.

“No heights! No heights!”

“Relax,” she sighed, exasperation apparent. “We’ll stay grounded. Or do you wanna walk. I’m just tired of all this waiting on you.”

Steven loosened his hold by a margin and watched the grassy soil fly by. She was moving fast, and his legs – he couldn’t imagine taking one more step. “Okay. If you stay out of the tree, then that’s fine,” he mumbled. “Um, do you think the others will already be there?”

Spinel laughed. “Not likely. This place is… pretty not safe. Er, I’ve been here a while, so I would know that.”

Steven frowned. He didn’t like the sound of that lie. “Did… you set boobytraps?”

“Ooh, I wish. Honest to stars, I did not expect company.” She cackled, while skidding down a grassy slope. “I have bigger things in the works, and I don’t need the setbacks. I admit, prying you out of Garnet’s gauntlets was not my brightest scheme, but how else was I going to get to see you.” Spinel grumbled something under her breath, which he didn’t catch.

“You did this… ‘coz you wanted to see me?”

“Doi. They went on the immediate evacuate of lil Stev-o, right? And fighting! Always solving problems with the fighting!” Spinel was back to hiking uphill, weaving around trees and splintered chalcedony.

“You did attack them… first,” he was hesitant, to say. But he needed to say it.

Spinel stopped atop a fallen log and laughed. “I merely announced my presence. With flair!”

“Okay.” In the distance, through the towering tree tops, Steven spied something glittering under the night sky. A sort of building or structure, but it looked embedded with tree limbs. They must really be headed for the temple. That was a relief.

“Gem powers,” she suddenly announced. Spinel cast off, pouncing between spikes of crystal and petrified timber. “You have them, then?”

“Uh… not very well.”

“A shield? Like your mom?”

Steven was shook. This person, gem, he never met before, knew about his mother. And her shield. Not even Lars knew. “Yeah?”

“Perfect,” grinned Spinel.

“You knew my mom? Really?” He leaned his head a little more over Spinel’s shoulder, trying to see her face. She leaned away, like, stretched her neck. It was weird, but he’d seen Amethyst do weirder antics with her shapeshifting, and he was once a cat abomination thing.

“Yup-yup. I was her bestest friend, after all. Very…” Spinel stalled, as she crept through a hallowed tree log. It was a blanket of black, aside from the haze of pink encircling the two, “close. For many years. We go, I guess… went, far back. Eh, that’s enough about Rose.”

“But I wanna hear more about my mom. You knew her! Tell me more! C’mon, you kidnapped me and everything, I deserve to know more. Lot’s more.”

“That’s a story for another day.” Spinel curved her arm over her shoulder and patted his head. “And I’m still irritated… about stuff. How ‘bout you? What did the others tell you, about great, flawless, Rose?”

Steven cast his eyes down, hurt with a side of bitterness. The Crystal Gems gave him the same treatment, in regards to topics about his mom. Here and there, a little story, a piece of the puzzle he lacked in his life.

“They don’t like to talk much about her, either,” he admitted. “Not my dad, though, he’s told me more. And, I don’t think he knew her as long.” He exhaled. He understood that they hurt, but he couldn’t help it. He wanted to know, he wanted to understand.

“They’re still sad.” he continued, softly. “But there’s so much I want to know. The people that knew her best, the longest, don’t want to share her with me.” He braced himself for another of those sneering jabs he was becoming accustomed to, but Spinel retained silence. Her pace had slowed, too. They exited the dark hollow and moved up and steep incline.

“Kiddo,” she uttered, at last. “Y’know, it wasn’t— you’re not— Oh! Would ya snag a view of that.” She inclined her head forward. “The temple. Piece of old gem junk. Be awed dazzled.”

Steven was very nearly floored. The trees nearest to the structure, splint vertically and the mineral layers up the outer fortitude of the castle. Though clearly in a state of disrepair, or incomplete, the vague cylinder assembly was apparent. The forest was twisting inward, spiraling and jagged, to construct the layers of the temple, while some layers splint backwards. Steven was awed dazzled.

“Are they here?” he demanded. “Can we go inside?” He tried climbing onto Spinel’s shoulders, but lost his footing. She didn’t let him fall.

“Quiet, and listen,” she whispered, while holding a finger to her grin. “I’ll sneak in, stealthy like. And if we find your friends – and we will find them first, that’s a promise – I’ll let you go back to them. No holds, no bars. You can reunite, be all happy and sappy, and get the dickens out of my forest. Capiche?”

“What does that mean?”

“It means, ‘get out of my forest, or I’ll chuck ya into the nearest star.’ Fair trade?”

Steven dangled by his arms. She let go of him so he could slip off her back, but he wasn’t ready to walk yet. His arms were getting tired though. “You promise? You’re not trying to trick me, are you? You’ll let us leave?”

“I said so. Promise.” Spinel made a motion across her gem. “Cross my heart and hope to, eh, shatter.” She adjusted Steven on her back and began a methodical and cautious approach down the clear path, towards the towering edifice.

Steven was uncertain if he could trust her unconditionally, but he had faith in his friends. They arrived at the temple, at least she was true to her word in some area. And if she did try anything, he could always impede her by… covering her eyes or pulling her pigtails. He could do something. He was more capable than what she gave him credit for.

Even if his legs were tired.

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