#AND THEN i thought what if esen's hand ended up in his mouth. like just hypothetically . | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

marnz · 3 years

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what was the starting point/inspiration for stay close to me? also I'm so curious about the Esen pov fix-it, what was the general plot?

Ahhh thank you for these great questions, because stay close to me actually arose out of me unable to figure out how to make the Esen pov fix it (a longing that's killing me) work. I find Esen so hard to write because he is such an asshole lmao, and I also find mirroring SPC's prose super difficult because our prose styles are opposites.

The Esen Fix It was basically me trying to fix the almost kiss. It starts off after the almost kiss and basically is about Esen realizing he's been a huge dick and trying to be better/less offensive so he can be with Ouyang while also trying to figure out how it's physically possible to be with Ouyang...but I was concerned it was very OOC. Esen never apologizes in the book, even when he knows he's very wrong, and the way I had Esen justify his own behavior to himself felt weak. I have almost 7k of this fic but due to my concerns about characterization I abandoned it. It's unfortunate, the dramatic irony was delicious. I would love to figure out how to finish it :( Later I started what would become stay close to me from Esen's pov but ran into the same problems.

For stay close to me's inspiration, 1) I love horses 2) I think what makes Ouyang such a complex character is not just the gender stuff but also his identity as a disabled person, and I wanted to explore his relationship with his body 3) I think the opening scene in stay close to me is the part of the novel where Ouyang would be most compelled to turn back or deviate from the path he must walk, and the perfect opportunity for Esen to realize Ouyang is actually not happy. 4) when I was rereading I was struck by Esen's dialogue...almost every time he talks to Ouyang he's hinting at having feelings for Ouyang, it's insane. I can't decide if Ouyang subconsciously knows this and is not acknowledging it because of his duty to his family or if he seriously missed Esen's blatant flirting attempts. Like the first time we meet Esen he's literally staring at Ouyang and playing with his hair. Give me a break! The text supports both theories, unfortunately.

But not all is lost, as I am cribbing my fav elements from this fix it and adding them to my ouyang pov fix it, which has turned into a monster :(

I've added a snippet of the Esen pov fix it below the read more for funsies.

That night it rained. The cold crept in through the window paper and Esen, thinking of Ouyang, ordered a fire lit, and then had to strip off some of his layers. The fire hissed and recoiled when Ouyang entered his quarters, as it always did. Ouyang had never commented on it so Esen never had either, but now Ouyang looked at the fire and then at Esen.

“I was cold,” Esen said. He was sweating.

Ouyang, who wore his usual surfeit of layers, said nothing. A servant brought airag; Esen dismissed him and all other servants, as was custom for any military briefings. Ouyang settled in and gave his report on the replacement cavalry, their integration, and how the army was utilizing the extra funds. Esen, playing absently with his jade hair beads, let Ouyang’s low, raspy voice wash over him. It all felt normal, absurdly normal. Yet everything had changed.

“My thanks, General. I’m not surprised training the replacement forces is going well despite Altan’s absence. I knew you would not fail me.”

Ouyang gave a thin smile. “Shao has chosen Zhao Man for Altan’s replacement.”

“Not Jurgaghan?” Esen asked, wrinkling his nose. His third wife would be displeased.

“As his father is not the father of the Empress, no. Shao likes Zhao Man.”

“I don’t care about Shao,” Esen said impatiently. Truthfully he didn’t like Shao, who always seemed contemptuous no matter who he spoke to. But he trusted Ouyang to have good reason for promoting Shao to Senior Commander. “Do you not like Jurgaghan?”

Ouyang’s look was sardonic. “I do not know him well.”

Yes; Ouyang had always avoided Esen’s wives for some reason. “He is a strong fighter. His archery is good; he rides well.”

“Would he be related to you if he did not?”

“Flattery will get you everywhere.”

“There is nowhere else I want to be,” Ouyang said quietly.

A tender ache spread through Esen’s chest. It felt like it was pressing up against his lungs and heart, overwhelming them. He felt, as he often did, a longing to keep Ouyang close, but now he wanted Ouyang physically close. It wasn’t enough for Ouyang to sit next to him. He wanted Ouyang in his arms. He wanted them skin to skin. Whenever he had felt such an unmannish sentiment before he had buried it or, if it were particularly strong, imagined what Chaghan would say if such a thing got back to him. But now his longing for Ouyang was so powerful that it was as unending as the steppes.

Ouyang was watching Esen’s face closely. He was very still, his hand clenched around his cup of airag. It was exactly like the night when Esen had horribly insulted him, except this time Ouyang had sought him out. Esen felt the pull of fate again, a pull that seemed determined to bring them into contact. What sort of contact, he could not say. For a moment, him being impaled by Ouyang’s sword or undone by the slow press of Ouyang’s mouth seemed to be equally possible. But Esen knew Ouyang would never hurt him.

“Ouyang,” Esen murmured. Again came the thought that Ouyang was beautiful, but it was a proud and remote beauty, a beauty that was forbidding. And so Esen dared not reach for him.

A shadow passed across Ouyang’s face. He bowed his head and let go of the cup. “My Prince?”

“Do not call me that. Please.”

Ouyang’s throat bobbed. “Why not?”

“I have asked you a thousand times not to.”

“And I have told you a thousand times that I must. Nothing has changed.”

“Everything has changed,” said Esen.

Ouyang did look up at that. He held himself with the high, wavering tension that preceded a lightning strike. It was dread. The pain of knowing how badly he had failed Ouyang over and over again made Esen speak slowly.

“I can never apologize enough for your family’s death--”

“I do not wish to speak of it.”

“Then at least let me apologize for being an unrepentant ass. Please.” There seemed no other apology he could make that was not insipid.

Here came that close gaze again. “Apology accepted,” Ouyang said at length.

Esen looked down at the table, at his abandoned cup, and chose his words carefully. “For a long time all I cared about was making my father proud.” Again, that tension. Perhaps Ouyang was right to worry; Esen did run a risk of offending him with his next statement. “I made certain sacrifices to that end. It is the job of a son to do so.”

“Yes,” Ouyang’s voice was almost soundless.

“But my father is dead.”

“Your duty to him remains.”

“Of course it does, but I don’t--” Flustered, Esen forced himself to stop and think. How like a woman he felt, unable to be forthright. “The ways I must make him proud have shifted since I became Prince of Henan. Given that, given that--everything has changed--I am not willing to continue making this sacrifice. It would be unbearable to do so.”

Ouyang hardly seemed to be breathing. When Esen finally gathered the courage to look at him, Ouyang was staring at him with such intensity that Esen felt himself flush.

“Esen,” Ouyang whispered.

The deep pleasure of hearing Ouyang say his name made Esen temporarily shut his eyes. He knew immediately they could never go back. But words seemed particularly treacherous, so instead of speaking he held out a hand to Ouyang.

#answered #fey-dancer #she who became the sun #ouyang/esen #my fic #long post #thank you for this ask it was delightful #i am over caffeinated and stressed about deadlines (terrible combination) so i was very happy to think about SWBTS on my lunch break #i DID read a scientific paper on the health effects of castration for stay close to me and it was. grim.#i did a lot of research! both on anatomy and the yuan dynasty! this will all help me out for INTWFY.#stay close to me #sorry for any typos #edit this is so long i am SO sorry

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iamwhelmed · 6 years

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Win One, Have Two: Chapter 12

Chapter 12 is completed! And with that, we’re are just about halfway to the final chapter! Special thanks to @themoogleexorcist and @le-petit-mafia for beta reading this chapter for me! It’s so much better than it would have been had Whelmed been left to her own devices xD Thank you guys so much for the help! <3 Be aware of a little bit of blood in this chapter.

Here’s the link on AO3

She’d never liked them, hospitals. They were cold, and they were lonely-- especially at night, in the dark, lights down low over empty reception desks. Catriona bit her thumb. She’d been stalking back and forth for the better part of an hour, waiting on a clock that trembled every painfully slow minute that passed. She breathed in, took one moment, two moments, then breathed out.

“My love, the children will be fine. They were young, that woman recognized that. She would have gone easy--”

“That isn’t the point!” She whipped on him-- shoulders, hands, back-- tensing as her nails dug into the skin of her palms. She never got mad at him, rarely raised her voice an octave, but this was different. She’d made this mistake. She’d messed up, and now her children had paid for it. “We were ahead of schedule, I thought we were ready and we weren’t. Far from it!”

He was right. Their injuries were minor, just some bruises and scratches, wounds they’d get playing in a backyard filled with trees and broken branches. But that didn’t matter, not to her, not right then. Emmerich approached her, raising one hand-- not the way one would in defense of an animal; he raised his hand not to silence her, but to demonstrate understanding. She didn’t have to say anything else, didn’t have to explain. Her cold hands, still shaking, wrapped around her upper arms, and the rest of her body shivered. She wasn’t cold, but he was always so warm. His eyes were thick with emotion, heavy and focused on her-- always, always, always. “They love you, Catriona,” his raised hand fell to her shoulder, squeezed her in one palm. “They followed you with no fear, and they will follow you now.”

“Does it matter?” Her brows furrowed as she shook her head, eyes somewhere behind him, staring at nothing but the melted hallways filled with stars, his world. Her kids were somewhere down that hallway, and her mind was with them. Lost. “Does their loyalty mean anything when I am all they have? What is their love worth when I am a lie?” He squeezed her, stepped closer, and her eyes met his, but she was still so far away. “They know other spectrals exist, now. Before, I was the only option. What is to stop them from joining her?”

“The truth, Catriona, the truth that those monsters are working to enslave and destroy every spirit, and we,” he took her hands in his own, raised them to his chest. “We are the only chance this world has at setting things right.”

Cold-blooded eyes, she could see them in the back of her mind, so different from her own, so different from Emmerich’s. She knew he could see it, and she felt him involuntarily flinch. “I doubt he shares your sentiments, my love. I fear his agenda reads far differently from ours.” He said nothing, and she set her hands at his chest, leaning her head on one of his broad shoulders. He grazed her back with his hand, rubbing her tense muscles under soothing circles. “This dagger… it can free these poor spirits, but it will kill them. Is such a fate worth all of this effort? I fear we are his pawns.”

“Perhaps, but this is all we know. Death is better than the shackle of a human body.”

��I suppose,” she hummed “I just wish it wasn’t a paradox.”

The muted sound of footsteps echoed in the darkness of his world, bouncing off the dying stars and stains of color, and she prepared for her love to melt from her fingers. It used to unsettle her, how quickly he was gone, but he was always there. She closed her eyes, took one deep breath, then two.

“Miss Barrett?”

The doctor was young, going by the small crease between his eyes, no older than thirty, and he approached her with one hand outstretched. There was a carefulness to the way he carried himself, and it carried over to his eyes as he glanced her shoulders-up. She shook his hand and he pulled away slowly, deliberately pulling the board, pen, and paper closer to himself. “Yes, how are the children?”

“They’re fine. Their injuries were all minor, though I would get the little one’s ears checked with her pediatrician. There was some damage, but I doubt it’s anything permanent.”

She knew it, they both had, but she could feel Emmerich sigh in relief within her, in tune to the hand she raised to her heart. “What rooms are they in?”

“Esen and Harlow are in room A14 and A15. Aderyn was transferred to room C16 of the Pediatric Ward, which should be” he pointed behind her, finger jutting to the side “right down that hall and to your left.”

“Thank you.” She took one step in the direction of room A14, and he raised one hand to stop her, not that he could do much if she so happened to push through, but she paused out of kindness. This man had taken care of her children, no matter the minor scrapes. Her eyes strayed from the room a mere tantalizing 5 feet away, glancing the good doctor up and down.

He smiled, and it was forced. “These children were in your care, correct?”

“Yes.”

“Mind telling me what happened?”

“They’re kids; they were playing.” She bit out the words, looking from A14 to the doctor again and again. The doctor nodded and absentmindedly stuck his tongue in his cheek. Catriona, she could hear Emmerich’s warning in the back of her mind. Stay calm, my love. There is nothing to gain from his suspicion.

“Have you notified their parents?”

No. “Yes.”

The doctor hummed, “We’ll be making a call to their guardians, what did you say your relation to these children?”

She breathed in, took one moment, two moments, then breathed out. “That won’t be necessary.”

“I’m sorry?”

His eyes were suddenly wide, full of emotion that was fading-- confusion, disbelief, and she could see the faintest twinkle of horror. His mouth open and closed like a stupid gaping fish, like a fool as his mind reeled. She tilted her chin up, and despite her best efforts, despite the quiet disagreeance echoing hollowly in the back of her mind, her lips twitched, inch by red inch, into a smile. She watched as his open lips gasped, as he coughed and they began dripping red as her nails. Her head tilted, and his brokenly followed suit as she gripped his heart in one clawed hand. “That’s my line, Doctor.” With one twist she pulled away, and he fell to the ground in a heap, spilling red across the pearly white tiled floor of the second wing; she never did like hospitals, and she liked doctors even less.

Max wrinkled his nose, flicking his wrist about the way one shakes a Christmas present from a grandparent who doesn’t particularly know them. The packet of text, stapled in the upper left hand corner, made the obvious wobbling paper noise as it waved to and fro. What was it, exactly? Max glanced to his side. Mister Spender was still busying himself passing out the packets to each row, arms readjusting every step he took up and down the stairs leading to each line of students; the packets were slipping from his arms, visibly too thick in a bunch for him to carry. Mister Spender passed another handful of packets to whoever was at the end of the next column, raising one leg to catch a slew of deviant papers slipping from his forearm.

Johnny was lifting his by the front page, looking positively puzzled in that special way only Johnny Jhonny could-- top teeth bare of his upper lip, eyes squinting precariously as he shook the packet around. Collin flipped through the pages with an almost uninterested skim, and when his eyes met Max’s, he shrugged and set his chin upon his palm. Max turned back to his own, taking a moment to read the front page. Training 101, of which the class syllabus was cheekily titled “Ghosts and Rules”.

Well, Mister Spender is the one who wrote this…

He flicked forward two pages. Training 101: Chapter 1

“These packets will be your guide-- and partially your study material-- from now until the end of the first semester.” Spender returned to the front of the classroom, setting the leftover packets in his desk before shutting the drawer and locking it up, stored safely away for absentee students. Or clumsy ones. Max turned to look at Johnny, who had lost interest in his packet in favor of the small flame he could set at the tips of his fingers, balancing the flame a mere inch or two away from his very paper-- very flammable-- textbook. “The good thing about this curriculum is that there is none set in place, hoo hoo! So I’ve taken it upon myself” Spender framed his face between his pointer fingers and thumbs “to work out the most time-efficient, digestible lesson-plan! Now, let’s get started with the syllabus!”

The classroom rattled with groans, some louder than others-- Max thought for sure he could hear kids in the next room over, who weren’t even in their class, groaning in empathy.

But, Max was good at nothing if not actively tuning out the world around him, so that’s exactly what he did. He probably already knew most of the material anyway, right? He snorted to himself and skipped a few more pages ahead, skimming the material over with the loose concentration of a man on Vicodin. Blah, blah spirits. Blah, blah spectrals--

Mediums. His thumb paused before he turned the next page. He ran his finger over it, eyed the yellow highlight around the text.

Look, you don’t need a tool to be powerful. Let me explain…

Something coiled in his stomach, not quite nostalgia, something worse, something that sat in him and spent its time twisting around. He dug his cheek into his fist. He could still smell the grass in his favorite sweatshirt from sliding down a huge grassy hill, hear Johnny’s maniacal laughter, feel the bruise on his chin in the shape of Suzy’s surprise phone.

But more than any of those things, he remembered rain. He remembered clouds and thunder despite the day’s clear sky.

Isaac’s smile was like a stain in his memory, combing through branches and old trees and stepping over small rivers and spirits. Among “Shut uuup Max”, there were smaller things, things that hit him with a familiarity, like a punch in the shoulder that didn’t even hurt, like shoes on hands and conversations that died too soon. Isaac was the one to explain mediums to him, something he wasn’t even sure crossed the mind of Isabel or Ed or-- heaven forbid-- their actual teacher. Isaac had explained things, tried (and failed) to tease him back, introduced him to Doorman--

"You wanna know what my problem is?" Max took a step back upon seeing Isaac's wide, wild eyes, watching his aura grow and flare each time he blinked. "My problem is you! It's been you this whole freaking time! Wanna know why? Because I was an idiot and I trusted you! I knew you for all of a week and I trusted you! Completely! Like some stupid little kid!” Isaac laughed to himself then, eyes falling from Max's to his hands- his trembling, open hands."It's my fault, okay? I screwed up. I wanted you all to care about me, and if you didn't like me, I thought maybe..."

Max grimaced. He could still see Doorman standing stock still in the unlit mansion. He could still see-- even with no eyes to read or brow to furrow or lips to curl-- he could still see the shadow looming over his tall stature. His hands were still raised, still closing the door to the other side of the barrier, and Doorman was sad.

It had taken forever, maybe a little longer, for either of them to utter so much as a word; when he did ask questions, Doorman had no answers. They both knew why and when and how but the “where”, well, the “where” was still taunting him, like a prize at the end of a stick. Isaac was with the Cousinhood, that’s what Isabel said…

“Hey!” Johnny stood up, one fist raised with a flare in his eyes and a small flame circling his knuckles. “When ‘re we gonna learn ‘bout those things that attacked us?”

The murmurs started, small and unsure, filtering through each row, from mouth to ear as kids turned to each other.

“We’ve been in this class for a few days now.”

“Haven’t really learned anything…”

“I don’t know what to tell my parents--”

“--mine tried calling the school--”

Some kid a few rows in front of Johnny stood up, not as intimidating, nowhere near as big, but he was twice as angry and just as determined. He climbed atop his desk, much to the surprise of the neighboring seats (who scattered to move their notebooks) and readied his lungs to scream: “Yeah! When are we gonna get to the important stuff?”

Spender tensed, eyebrows shooting up behind his sunglasses. “Well, you see--!”

It was all downhill from there. Other kids started clamoring for a word, standing on top of their desks, throwing their packets in the air, shouting about perceived injustices as loudly and as often as their lungs might let them.

Max bulked, watching as the kids around him, the few still seated, grew restless in their obedience. They did not stand on their packets or throw things, but they exchanged glances and cheered when they made out a point they could agree with in all the ruckus. Collin twisted around in his seat in a panic, jaw open as the classroom fell into a chaos even he wasn’t used to. Johnny had grown more vehement amidst the pandemonium and had taken to leaping up and down on the desk.

Spender swallowed hard and raised both hands. “Now, now! Children, please! Let’s all calm down! There are some things I have to teach you before you can understand what those creatures were! If you will all please sit down--!”

“Why do some of us have powers and some of us don’t?”

“Tell us who you work for! The government?”

“Why did those things talk?”

The questions grew more frantic and scattered, and Spender himself reflected that. What he could muster of his voice was stuck in his dry throat, and the late pale of his skin had somehow dulled another shade, though his cheeks had grown a fiery red. Max sighed and made the move to stand. Well, if anybody was going to be the voice of reason--

“Hey! Idiots! Maybe we should all--!”

-- and Mister Spender hasn’t told us anything about Isaac.

Max shut his mouth, eyed Spender down. He was still distraught, doing his best to calm the mass, to put of the fire that had ignited the classroom, the ember that was burning him the longer it went on. Max plopped back down into his seat and crossed his arms. The chaos of the classroom did little to settle, and every question spawned another ten heads to answer to. The classroom ruptured into a state of madness, more contained but no less civil than a riot. Spender’s voice was quickly fading in the mass of voices, and Max’s eyes followed him from beneath the shadow of his baseball cap.

“Open your textbooks to page 345.”

Isabel and Dimitri pulled their books apart until they hit the right page number, then promptly dropped them upon the table with disinterest. Zarei was busying herself with a marker and the whiteboard, sketching out what appeared to be the human organ system. Isabel’s lip curled downward. “Biology?”

“Spirit biology,” Zarei nipped back, “which you’ll need to know alongside human biology if you’re going to learn first aid.”

Dimitri set his chin in his upturned palm, eyes hazily glancing over the first two pages of Chapter 14. He looked like he was about to fall asleep, and that sentiment Isabel felt directly in her gut-- her bored, eye-rolling gut. “This is Advanced Training, right? What are we learning first aid for?”

“I dunno, Iz...” Dimitri smiled at her in that lazy way he always had, in a way that made her bristle involuntarily, like he’d taken a finger and ran it along her spine. He knew what he was doing, and she’d have been lying if she said it didn’t irritate her. “Doctor Z might--”

“Don’t call me that.”

“--have a point. First aid could save your life on the battlefield, y’know.”

Isabel huffed and slouched in her seat. “I don’t wrap bandages. I wrap heads!”

Zarei set lowered her marker and turned around, brows furrowed, eyes squinting. “What does that even mean.”

“I’m a fighter!” She sat up and punched the inside of her hand. “There’s no situation I can’t get out of if I just think fast and punch real hard!” That’s right. She didn’t need first aid; she’d been on the other end of a flying fist more times than she could count, from as early as seven years old no less. Sparring with an older kid, hunting down a poltergeist, facing toe-to-toe with a spirit decades older than her? It was all the same. She knew she had to be smarter, be quicker, and that was the key to winning. She wouldn’t need first aid if she knocked the other guy out first.

Zarei hummed and turned back to the board. “I see.”

Dimitri stifled a laugh with a snort into his hand. Isabel grinned to herself.

“So, what would you do in the event that somebody important to you, say… Ed?” Zarei finished the final line of the human liver before she trailed back up the the chest. “What would you do if his quick thinking meant taking a shot to the chest for you?”

Isabel frowned, fist uncurling. For a moment she remembered a library filled with books, and the white fade that it vanished into. Among the white fade there was a familiar, unsettling trace of dry blood that came hand-in-hand with a distress she equated with the picture of a blonde mess hanging limply over her grandfather's arm.

Zarei drew the red marker across bright white and light blue of the board and human outline, draw one last line before she moved onto the next organ. “Would you want to keep fighting without him?”

“No!”

She hadn't realized she'd stood up, much less slammed her hands upon the desk in front of her, but the sound echoed in the otherwise empty classroom. She blinked, taking a moment to gather herself. Dimitri wasn't smiling anymore.

Zarei turned around, revealing the completed heart for the both of them to see. She hardly seemed bothered by the noise, or the attitude. Her half lidded eyes examined Isabel, like there was something to scrutinize that hadn't already been on display. Isabel herself wondered what she might have been seeing. She raised an eyebrow with a restrained sarcasm.

“Then you'll want to know first aid.”

Isabel exhaled out of her nose, then plopped back down into her seat, propping up the book with one grudging hand.

Spender groaned and lounged back as far as his desk chair would allow of him. “Children…” he mumbled. “Children are terrifying in mobs of 200.”

“Will you ever stop being such a child?”

“I'm not being a child! I'm an underpaid, overworked guide to the future of our world and it is in my right to vent.”

Zarei grunted. “Your job is not so complex.”

“Perhaps, but it is strenuous!” He paused, grimaced, and threw his forearm over his covered eyes “...and most certainly demanding.”

“Teaching Isabel to heal and not to maime is no easy task, Richard, though you should know that as well as I.”

Spender sat up glancing purposely away as Zarei came to lean against his desk, cup of coffee to her pursed lips. She was laughing at him, and he supposed that was another facet of their relationshinship he’d have to deal with in their transition from night-job affiliates to day-job coworkers. It’d been a handful of years since they’d last interacted in anything other than passing, and though there certainly was still some semblance of a wall between the two of them, one he doubted would fall to anything other than time, he’d found himself quite enjoying her company. Even so, six classes of fifty students for both of them was overwhelming. He felt his own sanity slipping from his fingertips every other hour of a work-day, and he could tell despite her pretenses that Zarei was feeling strained by the workload same as him. “This is simply too much.” She eyed him from the side, hardly bothering to part from her coffee mug, of which he could now see The Doctor Will Be In Shortly painted in yellow cursive above what was clearly the picture of a doctor in the breakroom with her own, smaller coffee mug. “2500 students divided between twelve classes… we need another hand.”

“In case you’ve already forgotten, Richard, I am a temporary solution. As it is, the Consortium is pressed to find someone qualified enough within Mayview to fill my position. The most optimistic timetable suggests you’ll be handling classes of 200 for at least another year before they’re able to locate a third paranatural specialist.”

Spender deflated. Ah, yes. He’d forgotten. Or, more accurately, he might have hoped. She was right. Once they located a second instructor, Zarei would be relieved of this horribly cramped situation. It would be some time before another spectral would be eligible enough to take on a third of the student population, or until the train was recovered enough to widen their horizons outside of the city. Of course, there was the off chance BL would come up with an alternate strategy and this entire dilemma would sort itself out.

But he carried reasonable doubt the situation would happen to resolve in his favor, as things often did not.

He leaned forward and set his head into his folded arms. “I forgot about that.”

Zarei didn’t respond for a moment, though he heard her take another sip of her coffee. He couldn’t see her, but he felt her weight readjust against his desk as she shifted. “I suppose I could stick around awhile longer. I may as well if I’m stuck here until the train recharges.”

“You’re uneasy, I take it? It’s serious enough their safety is a concern?”

This spectral was young, fresh-faced, cheeks still chunky and full of youth, and the manner in which he shuffled in his suitsie before her was undeniably a sign of inexperience. Still, he cared enough to bring this to her, and one doesn’t barge into the head honcho’s office unless they’ve got a bone to pick. “I haven’t heard from her in days. I tried calling, I tried visiting her apartment. I even tried her favorite--” he choked “--favorite bar? She wasn’t there. A-and I know, I know that Doctor Zarei, her train isn’t-- isn’t charged enough t-to take us out of the city, right?”

BL hummed, crossing her legs in the weightless air, folding her hands in her lap and squeezing them. “I see… If she’s disappeared as you say, there are few explanations, and I’m afraid none of them are very good. Inform the rest of your sector, I’ll do my part outside the barrier.”

There was a relief on his face, also youthful-- naivety both refreshing and heart-wrenching. He had hope she’d be able to save his partner, because she was the boss, she had to have all the answers. But she feared she had only a few for the moment, and none of them meant his partner would return, at least not in the way he was hoping.

Walking home from school had been, er, odd lately. Dimitri took to walking her home after classes let out for the day, and on Fridays they’d stop somewhere and grab a milkshake or chat up some friendly (and lonely) ghosts. Conversation with Dimitri came easy, that’s just the kinda guy he was-- cool, always knew what to say. Where a conversation dwindled with other people, Dimitri always had a second-hand story in the arsenal that was his mind; he was in the journalism club so he heard all kinds of things. That was the explanation he’d give, anyway, not that she believed him. Walking home with Dimitri kept her warm in the chilly air of early winter, but Dimitri only walked with her so far. They’d eventually, after around fifteen minutes of walking, would come to a fork in the road, one of which would lead her home to the dojo, the other that would lead to Dimitri’s house. They would wave goodbye, part ways, and she would be alone for another twenty minutes. That was twenty minutes alone for the first time since kindergarten, to be in-step with nothing but a silence that dulled the world around her, to remember that those stupid minutes used to be loud, and wild, and so full of giggles that the absence of it made her lungs squeeze for a howling laughter that wouldn’t come.

So, in part, it was a blessing that Agent Day approached her as the fork divulged in two separate roads; in other-- bigger, pressing-- part, it was uncomfortable, because there was literally nothing to talk about. Alas, there was nothing to be done. Agent Day had “something of great importance” to discuss with her grandfather, and she’d been so nice as to say “We could walk together, if you’d like?”

To which Isabel had responded with astounding neutralness, with maybe just the smallest hint of wariness and a sprinkle of perplexion.

“Is something on your mind?”

“Huh?” Isabel blinked, unsettled at how deep in thought she’d fallen. Agent Day was looking ahead, small smile on her lips same as any other time they’d had the pleasure of seeing each other. Which was, like, one other time. Honestly, Isabel had never been so inclined to rummage old memories for lessons about polite conversation, because something felt off about this woman and the defaning quiet sure wasn’t helping. Wait… quiet… she hadn’t been thinking aloud, had she? “Oh, uh, I’m just, y’know, thinking.”

“About?”

One of Isabel’s eyes squinted, hands clenching around the straps of her backpack. “Um…” Well, there wasn’t any harm in stating the very small, basic facts, right? Not like she was spilling out her whole life story to a complete stranger. Besides, she didn’t exactly have anybody else to talk about this with. Dimitri was hardly concerned, Ed was off training hard-- not that she was thinking about why he was doing that, per say-- Mister Spender was distant and not one for advice, and Max would sooner share a chewed piece of gum with Johnny Jhonny before he’d ever actually listen to her thoughts on this particular subject. Usually Eightfold was there, a safe friend who, though very tiny, had a lot of wisdom and big ideas. But Eightfold was her safety blanket, and she wasn’t there anymore. These days it felt like nobody really was, not that she’d ever voice that. “Ed said some things to me that made some sense, but I’m not sure I wanna believe him.”

“Why not?”

Isabel shrugged. “It’s personal.”

Day’s smile widened just the smallest margin. “Well don’t you trust him?”

“Of course I do!” Isabel liked to think of herself as somebody who was average on the emotional vulnerability scale, not quite a closed off stone of person (like her grandfather), but notably not a heart-on-sleeve emotional wreck. It was just something about today was trying her patience, and if one more person questioned her trust and loyalty to her friends-- so help her, she’d shave her head and make wigs out of the hair of everyone around her. She clicked her tongue and gave Agent Day a glare that she knew she couldn’t see. “That has nothing to do with it! It’d just… be better if he was wrong.”

Day turned to her then with a small frown, almost as if she’d touched a nerve. Nothing that would upset her, really, so much as cause whatever unnervingly strong empathy was radiating off her big bubbly eyes in waves. Isabel’s top lip coiled, revealing a small patch of white teeth, both a sign of disgust and a show of potential biting ability that she was sure was lost on Agent Day. “Oh no, did he turn you down?”

“W-what?”

The small frown that’d been there before turned to a look of absolute sorrow, tears welling in her eyes like pearly blue waterfalls cascading down reddening cheeks. “I’m so sorry to hear that! I know it must hurt! You poor thing, your best friend too! This must have been tearing you up inside!” Her eyes glowed a pure, heavenly white, and Isabel had the sneaking suspicion she somehow saw the rising horror in her wide, panicked eyes, because she immediately flew into hysterics. Her hands spun in defensive circles, like she was trying to block a very determined bee drawn to her face for some inexplicable reason, and her voice hit a new, frenzied pitch. “I-I’m sure this doesn’t mean he doesn’t still love you! Maybe it’s just not in the way you wanted him to! I’ve been on his side of things times a-plenty! I’m willing to wager you he’s just as torn to bits and pieces as you! Oh, I bet you it would mean the world to him if you two could stay friends!”

Isabel had never known her face to get as hot as it was right then. It was as if somebody had taken a ball of fire, the hottest, bluest part, and lit her skin aflame with it. Every inch of her face felt like it’d boiled under the sun for hours with oil or citrus all over her cheeks. Before she knew what she was even doing, she was mimicking Agent Day’s theatrics, hands waving about in quick, frantic circles. “N-n-no! No! Y-you’ve got it all wrong! That’s not--! That’s not what I’m thinking about! Ed didn’t r-reject me! Where did you even get that from? You’re crazy, lady!”

Agent Day desisited, hands falling into tiny balls at her now unguarded chest. She tilted her head and pursed her lips. “Oh, but you do like him, don’t you?”

“I-I mean--! That’s--! You’re--!” Isabel swallowed hard and braced herself to yell: “That’s not the point!”

“Am I wrong? Is there another?” Somebody kill her now. Heaven help her, she’d never felt more humiliated than she had right then, and in the entirety of her life, with a grandfather as proud as hers, there was plenty room for embarrassment, and somehow she’d surpassed every level she’d ever come to reach before. “That’s so strange! I thought for sure that night I came into town--?”

“That’s really not the point!”

“I’m sorry, dear! I don’t know where my mind was! What was it he said to you, then?”

Oh no, she was not putting any more of her emotions out on a platter for a complete stranger, not when whatever just happened would be the result. She’d been exposed enough for the day. Quite frankly, a quiet walk home to her thoughts probably would have been loads favorable compared to being the first guest on Agent Day’s Love Advice premiere. “I told you! It’s personal! A-and it has n-nothing to do with h-how I f-feel about--!” The dojo came into clear view, and for the first time in literal months, she was physically relieved to be within twenty steps (ten, if she ran, which she was definitely about to) of the front stairs. “Ugh! Let’s just drop it, okay?”

They continued to the front door in total silence, not companionable, but certainly mutual. Isabel opened the front door with one expressive hand, hardly stopping to hear the huge BANG that erupted through the front room. “GRANDPA!” She didn’t even bother to wave to Agent Day, not that Agent Day could actually see it… probably… before she was bolting up the staircase to her bedroom, where she slammed the door shut with so much force, it woke one of the students lounging on the living room couch to the floor with a start.

Agent Day stood at the front door, folding her hands in front of her as she glanced around the dojo. So many amazing smells-- sweat, deodorants, perfumes, foods-- it was all so very warm and comfy. It was a little bit of home away from home. She’d always wanted to visit Mayview, of that she was certain, but she wasn’t invincible to the occasional homesick feeling, and sometimes even a good bowl of chicken noodle soup can’t do home justice. Master Guerra took his time making his way to the front room, and when he appeared, it was with a scowl, one so deep it’d scare any old spectral off.

Good thing she wasn’t any old spectral. Agent Day smiled, and waved one dainty hand in greeting.

#Paranatural #Isabel Guerra #Maxwell Puckett #Dimitri Danger #Richard Spender #Mina Zarei #Agent Day #Johnny Jhonny #Collin Paranatural #Boss Leader #Catriona Barrett #Emmerich #WOHT #The Monster Trilogy #edsabel #Dimitri x Isabel #maxaac #imaax

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misslunamiste · 7 years

Text

Two Truths and a Lie

A story for Esen Zephyre, Round 03 of MYRIAD Island.

She awoke all at once, almost blinded by the pure white walls surrounding her. Her first thought was to say something, try and figure out where she was, but a hand covered her mouth.

“Please don’t argue with me, we don’t have much time.” The woman, who she barely recognized, told her, starting to remove the numerous IVs and heart monitors attached to her body.

“How long was I here?” She asked, doing her best to sit up while still cuffed to the bed she lay on.

“Too long for my liking. I’m sorry, I should have done something sooner.” The woman told her as the last monitor and cuffs were pulled off. “We have to go before-”

“Before they realize I know what’s going on? Believe me, this isn’t my first time experiencing this.” She sighed, looking back at the machine she had been attached to while she stood up. “Whatever you people are doing…you shouldn’t do it.”

“I know. I’m not here to make things worse. However, there’s something you should know…"

“You’ve been in a very good mood lately.” Sek commented to Esen one morning. It was about a week after the aerosol incident, and Esen noticed Sek purposely pulling her aside more and more.

“Is that a bad thing?” Esen asked, biting her lip.

“Well, it’s uncharacteristically positive considering we’re trapped on an island with a facility that probably wants us dead.” Sek declared.

“If they killed people, they would have left bodies.” Esen pointed out.

“Not necessarily.” Sek responded. “However, your good mood seems to be directly related to our resident illusionist.”

Esen sighed. “So what if Damia and I have been getting closer? Going though traumatizing events can bring two people closer together.”

“It would be fine if it wasn’t her.” Sek rubbed her forehead with her gloved hand. “Of all the people on this island, you decided to go and have a crush on her.”

“Wait, what? I don’t…” Esen trailed off, frowning. “Okay, maybe a bit. What’s the big deal?”

“The big deal is that she’s severely injured and killed people before. She is dangerous Esen.” Sek explained as Elian came up to both of them.

“We were all different during Project Infinity. I have to believe that people can, and will change.” Esen bit her lip. “She wouldn’t hurt me, if that’s what you’re worried about.”

Elian looked at the two of them, a worried expression on his face. “I could always…you know…”

“You’re not going to probe her memories, if that’s what you’re asking.” Esen frowned. “That’s not fair to Damia.” She stated, walking away.

“Esen!” Sek yelled, but ultimately did not follow her.

Esen didn’t know exactly where she was going, but she knew it had to be away from Sek and Elian. It wasn’t fair how they insisted on treating Damia as a criminal because of her past, considering what everyone had gone through six years before. She sat down behind the plane, easily hidden but still not too far from camp, to think.

She ran her hands through her hair, sighing. Of course, /she/ would be the one to fall in..some sort of affection in a completely unacceptable situation. Esen knew she was attracted to danger, especially from Cass, but this stepped it up. It didn’t help that her friends were insisting that this was a mistake.

“Hey.”

Esen looked up to see Damia standing by the edge of the wing. “Mind if I join?” She asked, and Esen nodded, moving over.

“You come back from scouting?” Esen asked softly.

Damia nodded. “Not too much that’s new. I mean, there’s the ominous building but we’re trying to avoid that.”

“That makes sense. Any idea what they want from us?

“No idea, but….no matter what happens, I’ll stick by you. We must be numbers one and two for a reason.” Damia assured Esen.

Esen was just about to answer when commotion was heard on the other side of the plane. She stood up, gesturing for Damia to follow to get a better look at the action.

At that moment, Esen didn’t know what to expect, whether it be full out war or people excited about food. What she didn’t expect was to see Ryker supporting none other than Alyss Okand, who looked fairly exhausted. She was dressed in another one of her all-black outfits, and carrying some sort of bag.

“That was…a new experience. I don’t know if I’d do that again.” Alyss told Ryker, who winced slightly. “It was fast, though.”

“Alyss!” Esen exclaimed, practically tackling Alyss with a hug after running to her.

“Esen!” Alyss greeted back, the smile evident in her voice. “I’d normally say I was glad to see you, but….I wouldn’t want anyone in this mess.”

“Well, I’m glad to see you.” Esen decided, pulling away and looking Alyss up and down. “You know, since you disappeared three months ago.”

Alyss hesitated. “Three….months?” She asked, groaning. “That’s another problem to deal with.”

“Just like the wound on your leg?” Esen asked, frowning.

“Uh, yeah.” Alyss winced. “Bullet grazed me. I guess I should clean it up?”

Esen nodded, wondering how she ended up as the parent in this situation. “Yeah, please. You can’t die after I just found that you’re alive.”

Alyss nodded. “Fine, I’ll clean it, but then I probably need a nap. It’s been a long three days.”

A few hours later, Esen sat beside Alyss in their airplane camp, Alyss’s leg fully patched up. The latter had gotten some sleep, but had insisted that an hour was enough. Alyss had also shifted, hiding her short pink hair and trading it for long, blonde hair.

“This is what you looked like...before?” Esen had asked when she saw.

“Pretty much.” Alyss shrugged. “I didn’t have as many scars back then, but the hair’s the same.”

The two continued their discussion, eventually turning to the topic of how Alyss got to the island.

“So, you were in the MYRIAD building?” Esen asked, frowning.

Alyss nodded. “Yeah, I was. The scientest - Artemis - helped me out.”

“Artemis was there? Verdani?”

“Yeah, she was. If it wasn’t for her, I’d still be there, and completely unaware.” Alyss frowned, looking down.

“So, you were in some sort of coma, then? That’s why you didn’t know what was going on or that you lost three months?” Esen pressed

Alyss hesitated, obviously not wanting to continue. “Uh, yeah, let’s go with that.”

“But you knew you were kidnapped.” Esen stated.

“I thought I had been killed honestly.” Alyss sighed. “I was heading to visit you, and out of the blue I heard your voice, crying out for help. I wasn’t going to let you be in danger. But then…” She trailed off, looking towards the exit, where Damia stood. “You little bitch.” She snarled, her tone changing as she grabbed the nearest object to her, a broken seatbelt buckle, and threw it at Damia’s head.

“Alyss?” Esen stopped the buckle from hitting Damia. “What are you doing?”

“What am I doing?” Alyss asked, getting more angry with each word. “I’m paying back the bitch who kidnapped me, probably kidnapped you all too, and gave me this stupid tattoo!” She snapped, revealing a similar number tattoo on her wrist.

The tattoo? 001.

“I don’t know what you’re talking about.” Damia pleaded, as she backed away from Alyss.

“I think you do, Miss Jacquin.” Alyss pressed forward, fueled mostly by anger.

A crowd started to form, watching the two. “After all, your parents are the ones that got us into this mess with their cute little project. MYRIAD is a project run by Jacquin Industries, and practically masterminded by their daughter, who tricked you all into thinking she was on the same boat.”

“Damia…this isn’t true, is it?” Esen asked, feeling her heart break a little.

“She can’t lie to all of us.” Sek yelled from the back of the crowd. More shouts of similar caliber followed.

“I was only doing my job.” Damia explained. “Not that any of you would understand.”

Then, she was slammed against a tree. It took Esen a moment to process that Ryker had run to her to pin her down before she escaped.

“How dare you rip us from our lives, destroying them all again?” He snapped, but Damia only smirked.

“I didn’t destroy them.” She stated, extending her arms slightly as her illusions filled the area and Esen’s vision went black.

“Esen, you listening to me?”

Esen blinked several times, trying to place where she was. A small room, with only a small hospital bed in the middle. Someone to her right was talking to her. She turned and was surprised at who she saw.

Cass.

“Yeah, sorry, I zoned out.” Esen smiled softly at Cass.

“Anyways, I said that they’re going to try again with the serum. They think it might work this time.” Cass explained, and Esen frowned.

“Are you sure it’s safe?” Esen asked, concerned.

“You worry too much, I’ll be fine.” Cass assured Esen, giving her a quick kiss on the cheek. “After this, there will be nothing stopping us from giving them the slip and going on more adventures together.”

“I’d like nothing more than that.” Esen grinned, giving Cass a hug. “Good luck, babe.”

In a weird time skip, Esen found the hours waiting for Cass skip by in mere seconds. She was sitting on the bed when the door opened and Cass walked back in.

Only it wasn’t really Cass.

“Cass!” Esen exclaimed, happy to see her. “How did it go?”

Cass didn’t respond, only looked at Esen in confusion.

“Cass?” Esen asked again, getting off the bed and walking towards her girlfriend.

That’s when it all went wrong. Cass lunged at Esen, trying to grab her throat. Esen did her best with her now powers to prevent Cass from grabbing her, but that didn’t help the situation.

“Cass, please!” Esen cried out. “Don’t hurt me!” She hadn’t been more scared in her life, more unfamiliar with what was happening. People started to enter the room, but Esen was more focused on the Cass in front of her.

Then a loud bang resounded. A shot had been fired.

Cass stopped moving and collapsed, a pool of blood appearing on the floor.

Esen, now splattered with blood, screamed, and the illusion broke as her control on her powers slipped.

In real life she screamed as wind pushed out from around her, pushing Damia away from her as well as the trees around her. Esen collapsed, almost certain that a crater had been formed, centered on where she stood.

Then, it hit her - she wasn’t at the camp. Damia must have taken her to the forest. Scanning the forest now, Esen didn’t see the other girl, hoping she left for her own good.

There was nothing left for Esen to do but walk back to camp, where the other survivors looked a bit shaken up. No words where exchanged with Alyss when she gave her another hug, except one quiet declaration.

“We need to get off this island."

#MYRIAD Island #Esen Zephyre #Sek Thoth #alyss okand

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misslunamiste · 7 years

Text

Six Years

A story for Esen Zephyre, essentially Round 00 of MYRIAD Island.

ONE

Esen stared at the door in front of her and raised her hand, intending to knock, but she hesitated. She felt something in her stomach, a twinge of nervousness or anticipation, something she hadn’t felt in a while.

“You’re hesitating,” Alyss observed, and Esen turned to face her. The black hoodie Alyss wore to cover her hair felt a bit out of place considering that she could change her appearance, but she had insisted that using her powers would have made things more confusing.

“I know,” Esen said quietly, swallowing. “What if they don’t live here anymore, or gave up, or-?"

“They’re your parents, Esen. I’m sure that they never would have given up on you, especially with the descriptions you gave me.” Alyss assured her. “And if they’re not here, we’ll find them. I have experience in tracking people down."

“It’s been three years, I…I don’t know what to say to them, what to do…” Esen ran her hands through her hair. “How do I explain this?”

Alyss swallowed, putting a hand on Esen’s shoulder. “The explaining…we’ll get to that. Pinn and Ajax will be happier that you’re alive. You said earlier that you wanted to see them again and you were afraid that you wouldn’t be able to. Take that chance now, Esen. Do what I never could.” She told her, and Esen got the feeling that there was a lot that Alyss wasn’t saying.

Regardless, Esen nodded and turned around, knocking on the door before she could change her mind. “They’re probably going to think I’m bringing you home as a date.” She said offhandedly to distract herself.

Alyss smirked. “I’m a pretty good catch."

The door opened.

Ajax began to ask a question, then stopped.

He called to Pinn.

Esen could feel herself crying, but she was happy.

“I’m home."

TWO

“I think you might be a bad influence.” Esen observed after Sek told her about her latest heist. She was sitting in her room with her tablet in front of her, notebooks from school scattered around her.

“Oh, you’re just getting that now?” Sek smirked, putting the stack of money on a side table in her enormous room in what Esen assumed was an enormous mansion. “Old habits die hard, and with this new ability, the possibilities are limitless."

Esen nodded. “Speaking of limitless, have your powers…grown?” She asked cautiously.

Sek froze, hesitating. She hadn’t been expecting that. “It’s hard to tell, with the whole dying and memory wipe thing, but I think I can use my powers on people."

Esen frowned. “Or you haven’t been sleeping.”

Sek shrugged. “Or that. Dying gives you a whole load of problems, along with the psychological torture the government put you through. At least I got compensation.” She then frowned. “Why do you ask?"

“It makes sense that our powers would grow stronger, I’m just not sure if they have yet.” Esen answered, clearly unsure. “It’s what I think about between psych classes."

“I can’t believe you’re becoming a shrink."

THREE

“I didn’t know your friend was rich, Esen,” Pinn observed as the family walked up the elaborate stairs to the house in front of them.

“I didn’t know either, and he didn’t remember before that…” Esen frowned.

“This is the right address, right?"

“You checked twice, sweetie,” Ajax assured her, smiling, “and Alyss did check to see if this was the right address. What is she up to, anyways?"

Esen shrugged. “Visiting friends, I think? Or she’s doing something dangerous as a vigilante. She’s never super clear when she calls.”

Pinn nodded. “At least she cares enough to check up on you.”

“That is true,” Esen agreed, smiling. She reached over and rang the doorbell. As soon as the door opened, she couldn’t help but grin. “Liam!” She exclaimed.

He grinned, leaning forward and giving Esen a hug. “Actually, it’s Elian now, but the enthusiasm is appreciated.”

“Wait, is that…"

“My real name, yes.” Elian smiled. “Elian Maxwell-Dara is a bit more real than ‘Liam Smith’.”

Esen frowned as her family entered, a butler offering to take their coats. “You hyphenated? After everything that happened?”

Elian shrugged. “Regardless of what he did, he was my father, Esen. I…I’m still debating whether he knew I was his son or not, we never found his body so it’s not like we could have asked or found out.”

“He did have a small soft spot for you, if it helps.” Esen suggested.

“I think it was microscopic if it was there.” Elian scoffed, then took a moment to inhale. “Enough talking, let’s go eat."

FOUR

“I think we should break up."

The words were out of Esen’s mouth before she could process what she was doing. The next words were apologizing on her behalf, saying the same phrases she’d used before.

“It’s not you, it’s me."

“There’s a lot going on in my life right now."

“I think being friends would just be easier."

For the most part, that was true. Being in a relationship was harder than Esen remembered, things were never as easy and she found herself constantly worrying about her significant other. It didn’t help that Esen was getting older and horribly out of practice

None of her friends really had any advice for her, which left Esen confused. When she was dating Cass, she found things to be easier, and found herself more carefree. They were breaking and entering, for god’s sake. Now, Esen couldn’t get a coffee without being nervous.

Hours later, she stared down at the tub of ice cream that she was eating from with sadness. Breakups were never easy, especially when you knew that they were coming from the moment you started a relationship. The only thing that Esen could hope was that something interesting would happen to take her mind off her commitment issues.

FIVE

Alyss grinned. “You’ve been practicing,” she observed as she threw another punch at Esen’s face.

Esen blocked the punch, then took a step back, obviously winded. “I have, but I need a break,” she gasped out, “and water.”

Alyss nodded, grabbing a water bottle and tossing it to Esen, then taking one for herself. After taking a long sip, she finally spoke. “Yeah, get hydrated kid. I gave you a hell of a workout.”

“It would be easier if I worked out during Project Infinity.” Esen shrugged. “I wasn’t sent out on missions because of what they did, so I figured I didn’t need the stuff."

“Self defense is important, especially now.” Alyss advised. “Especially after-"

“After what?” Esen asked, concerned. “What happened?"

“Just vigilante stuff, but nothing that could be traced back to me.” Alyss sighed.

“Hopefully. If they trace it to me, they could trace it to you, and after what happened, you…you shouldn’t have to go through something like that again.”

“Alyss, nothing’s going to happen to me.” Esen assured her. “It’s been five years, and even if something does happen, I’ll be ready. I’m more worried that you’re going to get yourself killed."

“Don’t be. I’ve got experience."

“And the mentality of an eighteen-year old."

“Your point is?"

Esen sighed. “Less risks, please? I’m twenty five, I don’t need a heart attack."

Alyss rolled her eyes, smiling. “Okay, mom.” She teased. “Let’s get back to work."

SIX

“I’ll be home in a bit, just going to find a piece in the music library.” Esen told Pinn on her way across campus.

“Honey, we have music here, and there’s plenty digital.” Pinn told her, his frown coming across in his voice as they talked on the phone.

“I know, but I like the smell of all the old papers and I could find something new!” Esen smiled. “I’ll be quick, okay?"

“I know you will.” Pinn sighed. "Call me if you need any advice, okay?"

“Of course I will, Dad. I love you."

“Love you too, Grey."

“Hey!” Esen objected, and she could clearly hear Pinn’s laughter from the other end. “I thought we agreed not to do that."

“It’s too cute not to use, Esen. Your father agrees with me.” Pinn told her, and she could hear shouts of agreement from Ajax as well. “I’ll let you go, call me if you need anything."

“Talk to you later then.” Esen nodded, then they said their goodbyes and hung up. She smiled, enjoying the clear night sky, and the serene campus around her.

Things were starting to look up for her. She’d completed her music major and was finishing up her work for psychology before going to medical school. She had made friends and taught plenty of kids how to play the piano. She even had a date lined up - a guy she’d met a few years back. Life was getting back to a new normal.

Just as she was thinking this, she felt a sharp sting in her neck and instinctively pulled out what had caused it.

A tranquilizer dart.

Esen pulled out her phone and called Pinn, feeling the effects start to take hold.

“Esen, honey, what do you-“ Pinn asked, before Esen cut him off.

“Dad I’ve been hit with a tranq I’m gonna pass out I can’t make it in time.” Esen rambled, feeling her movements get slower but fighting the effects best she could. Out of the corner of her eye she could see a figure shrouded in darkness.

“Where are you, is there anyone else there that can call for help?” Pinn asked hurriedly, and could be heard running out of the house with Ajax in tow.

“I’m at school I love you I’m scared.” Esen tried to make a coherent sentence, then tripped forward, her phone slipping out of her hand. She pulled herself over to it, feeling sleepier and sleepier.

“-hang on Esen, we love you and -” was the last thing Esen heard before the darkness overtook her.

The figure walked forward, shutting off the phone call before smashing the phone under their boot. They looked over at Esen, sighing.

“Two down, thirty more to go.”

#MYRIAD Island #Project Infinity #Esen Zephyre #Alyss Okand #Sek Thoth #Elian Dara

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