#Brezziana | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

thxrnking · 4 months

Text

Sign Me Up - A Night Children AU One Shot

Tag List: @sparklingdiva678 @libralelia @punsandquips @phoenixriaartemis @sunsetpixels @anja-the-sane-sibling @caitlynnrosespn @anonymous-gremlin @aaamethyst-topazzz

Shoutout to @mightnightmooon for being my injury consultant making sure I don't accidentally kill Pat :3

Summary - When Swan Soldiers attack his apartment building, Pat Quinn doesn't have much time to get as many people out as he can. If he makes it out himself, what kind of life is waiting for him?

Pat Quinn Profile | Nell Quinn Profile | Night Children AU

Everyday there was a new story about an attack somewhere and about twenty more people gone missing. I remember when Cygnus shut its borders. The whole district was in a frenzy and some rich guy paid for increased patrols around Dancity to ‘discourage the rabble’ as they put it.

Sure, I knew about the Swan Empire but I really didn’t like thinking about it. I’m just some guy who sells books in the nice part of Pivet to pay for my crappy apartment in the bad part of Pivet. I didn’t like what was going on elsewhere but what good would I do worrying over it day in and day out?

It was my day off so I was in my apartment. A simple bedsit in the Pointe apartment block, south of Maneater Alley. It’s got a bit of a rough reputation but it’s affordable.

I don’t remember what I was doing but I know there were screams coming in through the window. Like I said, the area’s rough and screams aren’t exactly rare around here so I thought nothing of it. Nothing until there was this massive BWOOM that made the whole building shake.

The walls shook, the ground shook, pictures dropped from the wall, the mirror in my shower room fell. Hell, I even dropped to the floor from the force. Now that isn’t normal and after I scrambled to my feet, I ran for the door.

Several of my neighbours were out there too. Everyone felt it, not just me, and most of them were thinking we’d just had an earthquake. That didn’t sit right with me. I mean sure they can happen but in this part of Dancity? That’s when the shouting and screaming started again, but this time it was muffled. Like it was coming from downstairs; inside the building.

The lower floors of the Pointe are where you’ll find the larger rooms with better accessibility. Designed for the families and those with mobility restrictions. I think there might even be a few flatshares down there. Up on our floor, the fourth floor, you’ll find the single occupants. People who like their own space and a cheap place to stay without caring too much about loads of neighbours. Management told us this was so if we ever had to evacuate the whole building it would be quicker and safer for everyone. When we heard kids screaming, we figured evacuation was probably a good idea.

Obviously the main way in wasn’t an option. Whatever danger was coming for us would be coming that way. Lucky for us the fire exit is at the other end of our corridor, at the opposite end of the building. If we could be quick enough, we would probably get everyone out before they even got to us.

“Out! Everyone out!” I didn’t really bother being quiet, shouting as loud as I could.

No one needed telling twice, everyone heading straight for the door. Meanwhile I went the opposite direction, heading towards the entryway staircase. Someone needed to see how much time we had and I sure as hell wasn’t going to get someone else to risk it.

I hate our Gods-damned entryway staircase. It’s a multi-floor echo-chamber because they laid down that awful awful tile that reverberates every single sound that so much brushes over it. Walking up it on your own on a good day is bad enough, each step bouncing up and down and back and forth, coming at you from every angle and making you question your sanity. I jammed my hands against my ears as I shouldered open the door, knowing it would be so much worse.

The shouting and screams were so much louder and the reverb was Hell, I could feel it in my teeth. Even then, over it all was the steady thrum of multiple people marching as one.

Marching meant one thing; Swan Soldiers. Our building was under attack from Night Swan, her Soldiers here to take prisoners or to recruit. Neither option sounded good. So an invading force was coming up the stairs, several people were still in the corridor, and thanks to the reverb, there was no way to figure out how long we had until they got here.

As I came back into the corridor, I saw that most people had made it out the exit while some stragglers were still on their way out after having finally given up banging on the still closed doors. Fuck.

On my way to the exit, I banged on each closed door myself. I didn’t want to waste time, banging only two or three times and shouting to get out before moving on. There was no answer at any of them and I really hoped it was because they weren’t home.

Finally, I made it to the end. The Soldiers hadn’t reached us yet, everyone else was out, and I’d just finished banging on the last door. I was thinking we’d made it when it happened. Two thirds of the way down the corridor a door opened and out of the apartment stepped a woman I didn’t know. Couldn’t tell you her name even now but I had a few choice names for her at that moment I can tell you.

Her hair was dishevelled and she was in her pyjamas. She looked rough, exhausted, and pissed. She started shouting about night shifts and irregular schedules but at that point I wasn’t listening. We didn’t have time and I was sprinting right at her.

Seeing me barrelling at her seemed to scare her out of her rant. The building shaking and her neighbours shouting and screaming as they ran for their lives didn’t ruffle her, but a strange young man running at her as fast as he could? Apparently that’s terrifying.

I screeched to a halt on the other side of her and just started physically herding her towards the exit. She tried and failed to argue with me because I just kept pushing her. Whether or not she liked it I was going to get her out that door. When I finally got her to the exit, I pushed her out, told her to run and slammed the door behind her.

This wasn’t the plan. I’d fully intended to be on the other side of that door when I closed it for the last time but I’d realised something while getting that woman out. The original plan wasn’t going to work.

We were running with seconds on our side here, not minutes. The Swan Soldiers would get up here, find our floor empty, and take all of 0.2 seconds to realise where we went. They’d immediately follow us, chase us down and all we would have done would be give them a little extra cardio. Ultimately, it would only delay the inevitable.

If anyone was going to have any hope of getting to true safety, someone needed to stay behind. To keep their focus on the floor for just a minute or two so the others could find somewhere safe. So that was my plan; distract them.

When they finally got to me I was nowhere near the exit, waiting for them halfway down the corridor. I’d seen Swan Soldiers on TV before but this was my first time in person. It was haunting, like looking at a picture of someone who died 20 years ago. Unnatural. Hollow.

As they marched in, I raised my hands in surrender. I figured they’d march straight up to me and take me into custody, after all I was an easy target. Probably their easiest take-down all night, but they kept their distance, merely stepping to the side and watching me with their formless faces.

They were waiting. For her.

I’d heard about the Night Children, everybody had. Still I didn’t want to believe it. All those powerful dancers, defeated by the Night Swan and now fighting by her side. It was unthinkable. Especially Brezziana.

I’ve known Brezz for years. I first saw her during a flash mob she did in Luz Solar Mall years ago. She was energetic, encouraging, exuding warmth and kindness that just made you want to join in. So I did. I made sure someone introduced us and I was right there with her at her next five flash mobs.

I wouldn’t say we were friends. I don’t have her number, couldn’t tell you where she lives, but we would always talk whenever we ran into each other. She’d ask about my family, I’d check in about her friends. We were close enough.

From between the Soldiers, Brezziana strode forward coming to a stop in front of them. What had been bright calming blue, and energetic orange was intertwined with toxic vine-like black feathers tracing up and down her body. Her hair puffs were gone, her purple curly hair half-pulled back and drawn into a messy singular bun. The pink heart, her signature motif, was broken in two.

Her eyes were aflame, burning with glee on top of a wide, emotionless smile that held no warmth. The Soldiers all looked to her, watching and waiting. She was their leader.

“Hello Pat. Mind if we come in?”

She remembered me. Her voice was ice cold, dripping with malice and my hands dropped as I stepped back. My heart sank, my chest felt hollow, and my whole body was numb.

It was true. The truth of the Night Children was stood right in front of me, ready to take me in or take me down. I knew I couldn’t let her, but I had no plan, I had no way out, and I had maybe five seconds before she came for me with no hope of outrunning her or her Soldiers.

My mind raced as I stepped back, desperately trying to think of something, anything. I glanced to the side peeking into a nearby apartment and saw something that gave me an idea. Not smart, not great, but if I did this right it’d leave me better off than I was three minutes before.

“Go ahead,” I said, mostly to distract her. The only thing I had on my side was the element of surprise and if it had any hope of working I needed them not to realise I was going to try something, “I was thinking of moving out anyway.”

Pausing only to give them a two-finger salute, I dashed into the apartment slamming the door shut behind me. Seconds was all I had but it was all I needed as I ran to the window, unbolted it, tore it open, and-

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

“Wait!” Blake interrupts from the doorway.

The room is tiny, more of a converted storage closet. With the increasing raids occurring across Dancity in recent months, the Resistance outpost has had to make space for the countless people who barely made it out somehow. There’s just enough space in here for the cot Pat’s laid on, and the small stool on which Liv is sitting.

“You were toe-to-toe with one of the Night Children, essentially at her mercy, and the best idea you could come up with was to jump out of a fourth storey window?!”

“No. My idea was to jump to the second storey roof of the building next door, then keep running. I didn’t count on breaking my leg.” Pat chuckles gesturing to his left leg that was tightly bound to a splint. It had been in a cast up until last week, but the medic had confined Pat to remain on bedrest a little while longer, just to make sure the bone was fully healed.

Liv gently smiles at him, “Thank the gods we found you before the Soldiers did.”

“Shame you’re pretty much useless.” Blake mutters, not quite under their breath. They’re leant back against the doorframe, arms crossed and scowling. A common occurrence when they came to visit Pat.

As outpost leaders, it was a vital duty of both theirs and Liv’s to check in with those in their custody. Check on their care and make sure they’re safe. Still, Blake wished that Pat wasn’t on the list. There’s nothing wrong with him, though he is annoyingly upbeat, but the dumbass tends to talk. A lot.

“So you’ve said,” Pat snarks back, “many times. Yet I still managed to get those people to relative safety. So maybe I’m not completely useless.”

“Enough.” Liv stands, purposefully placing herself between them. There's a firm glare in her eye as she looks between the two, daring either of them to challenge her interruption.

“I’m just saying-” Pat tries but Liv silences him with a finger in his face as she pins her glare on him.

“You’re supposed to be resting, not picking fights. And Blake,” she turns on her partner, pinning him with the glare now, “Pat is here to recover not be recruited. So back off of him.”

Blake doesn’t meet her eye, his slipping off to the side as they wait for her to stop. She’s right of course, but it’s been a long while since things have Flowed in their favour. Resistance numbers are dropping everywhere. Members are constantly getting captured or scared away. If they’re going to have any chance of surviving in this war, never mind standing a chance at winning, something needs to change and soon.

Liv doesn’t stop staring and Blake gives up.

“Whatever,” they mutter, turning to head out the door. Liv gives a satisfied smile, turning to wave at Pat before she moves to follow after Blake.

“I know you lost your intel guy!” Pat blurts.

So this wasn’t how he’d intended to bring it up. He’d hoped he could ease into it but they were already leaving and he panicked. It works though, both Liv and Blake turning to stare at him in confusion.

“How the hell do you know that?” Blake demands, confusion quickly giving way to anger.

“Well, your secret meetings are maybe not quite as private as you think they are.” Pat can’t help but chuckle nervously.

Blake scowls and waves for Liv to follow them, making a mental note to increase the security around their meetings. Annoyed, Pat pushes himself up on the cot. Sitting up is impossible with his leg as it is but he still tries, holding himself up with his arms behind him as he yells after them.

“I want to help!” He can’t keep the anger from his voice at being so easily dismissed.

Weeks he’s been stuck here, completely alone apart from the occasional visit from Blake and Liv, and whoever brings him food each day. Healing may be important but the isolation has been driving Pat out of his mind. Forced to wait and see when he knows the war is still going on out there; that it’s getting worse.

“I know I’m less than useless in a fight, thanks for the constant reminders!” he calls after Blake bitterly, “But I’m fast, I can think on my feet, and I’ll blend in better than a couple of Eternians!”

He’d thought telling them about the day they found him, how he helped people, how he survived, his semi-connection to one of the freaking Night Children, would convince them he could be an asset but Blake’s already out of sight. They could be halfway down the corridor by now.

Blake refuses to listen. They don’t have time to listen to a Gloveless dumbass with no sense of self-preservation begging to join a fight he has no place in. It’s out of habit that he glances to the side expecting to see Liv walking beside him, only to realise she’s not there.

Blake stops, turning back to see Liv frozen in the doorway, a familiar look in her eye. They cautiously approach her.

“Tell me you’re not considering putting an inexperienced, unGloved citizen into the fight?”

Liv glances to them, her eyes sparkling as they often do when she’s figuring out a solution, “Not into the fight.”

“Liv,” Blake grits through his teeth, but Liv cuts him off.

“We need someone on intel.”

They do. The last three people had gone missing in action, presumed captured. No one honestly knows but it's not hard to make an educated guess. It’s almost impossible to find anyone dumb enough to be willing to take the risk but without intelligence on the Swan Army coming in, they were basically fighting blind.

Blake looks to the cot. Pat’s brow is furrowed in determination as he glares fiercely at them in the doorway.

“He won’t last two minutes if it comes to a fight.” Their voice is barely above a mutter, not wanting Pat to hear.

“Maybe we don’t need a fighter.” Liv quietly offers, “Maybe we need someone who can survive.”

Whatever else happened that day, Pat had survived. He’s reckless, impulsive, untrained, and unGloved but he knew when to run from a fight. He is fast, he can think on his feet, and especially without a Glove, he would draw a lot less attention than most.

Moments drag on until finally Blake gives a sigh of resignation.

“Fine,” he agrees reluctantly, “but only after the medic clears you.”

Pat’s lips draw wide in a bright smile as he fist-pumps in his excitement.

“You won’t regret this.”

Rolling their eyes, and shaking their head Blake turns to leave again.

“I already do.”

#Just Dance #Just Dance 2023 #Just Dance 2024 #Just Dance OC #; my oc #Brezziana #Night Brezziana #Blake and Liv #Night Children AU #Blake's pronouns are he/they #I've put a lot of effort into this so any comments and/or feedback would be greatly appreciated

15 notes · View notes