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chille-tid-universe · 4 years

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Down One Mountain, Up Another

The following hours were spent in too-toasty respite. Heat from the Hidden Forge still roiled from the intricately carved archway, but it was less malign, more contented, than it had been before. Although the lair above had been unoccupied, the group was unwilling to return without being prepared for a potential fight, and so, they regained their strength.

While the hours passed, Pock pulled sheafs of paper from his pack and began filling out forms, detailing how a search party could locate the Hidden Forge and making sure to copy in triplicate. Meanwhile, Wun Way lightly blew prospective notes on her pan flute, beginning to compose a dramatic song to immortalize the recent fight at the Forge, and the works of wonder that melted the molten heart.

After a refreshing rest, the party gathered their packs and prepared for the long trek up the wooden staircase. Eventually, they arrived at the carved door and the vestibule beyond. Just as before, the room was chilled and abandoned, with the notable exception being the pile of automatons slain the day before.

As they approached the sliding exit to the lair, the group ceased all talking and stepped lightly. After a few whispered words, Nissa stepped forward, turning the ring on her finger and vanishing from view. A moment later, the panel before them rose a few feet, a light rumble causing each person’s heart to catch in their chest. Half a minute later, it slowly shut, and Nissa reappeared before them, face flushed, eyes wide. “Dragon,” she breathed, “Black. Big. Sleeping.”

The group had quietly pulled back from the exit and began planning their escape. Early on they dismissed the idea of fighting the dragon head-on. (Nissa was interested in seeing how much she could do to the dragon before it had a chance to fight back, but even she saw the futility in that plan.)

Ultimately, they decided to slip out of the cave-like lair as silently as possible - perhaps more silently. Pock offered to focus a silence spell over the party, but then realized that the cave mouth was much further away than the area of the spell. A minute later, the group realized they could simply place the blanket of silence over the dragon’s head. Beyond that, the group decided it would be safer to have a second layer of protection, by way of Wun Way’s invisibility spell.

And so, the group planned to break into pairs, which Wun Way would turn invisible and then cast a longstrider spell upon, and thus exit the lair while Pock’s silence spell deafened the world to the dragon. In the event that it somehow woke, at least they would still be invisible.

Nissa went first, as her ring allowed her to move invisibly without the need of another spell. Wordlessly, the two gnomes slipped back into the lair. Nissa nodded to Pock as she activated the ring, and Pock whispered a silent word, gesturing at the massive head of the dragon. The air shimmered, almost imperceptibly, and then Pock gestured to the empty air beside him. As he turned back to the sliding panel, he heard the faint pattering of Nissa’s feet as she snuck across the lair.

A minute passed, at which point Wun Way drew her open hands across Ravain and Ciri. The two faded from view, and Wun Way nodded in their direction. As the two began to creep along the frosty stone, Ciri’s cloak caught on an icy stalagmite, and, with a loud crack, the ice shattered on the floor. Each person froze, but a heartbeat later the huge form of the dragon continued to rise and fall with steady breathing, and the two quickly made their way to the entrance.

Wun Way gave an extra couple seconds to ensure Ravain and Ciri could duck out of the cave before dropping the spell, turning to focus on Melpomene and Brienne. She repeated her previous gesture, and the two invisible women stepped into the lair. As Brienne reached the cave entrance, however, her foot slipped, and she tumbled to the icy floor. A loud clang filled the cavern, reverberating along the curved walls, and once more each person was frozen in place. Still, though, the dragon slumbered.

Finally, Wun Way turned to Pock and drew the veil of invisibility over herself and the gnome. From the cave entrance, the now-visible group could hear their footsteps as the two came closer. After the longest minute of any of their lives, Wun Way and Pock reappeared before them. As one, the group turned to peer at the dim outline of the dragon within the lair. It did not rise or otherwise move.

Relieved faces turned to smile at each other, and Pock threw his arms into the air, mouth opening. Wun Way’s eyes widened as she threw a hand over his mouth, and the cheer died in his chest. When her hand was removed, Pock smiled sheepishly. Without further ado, the party removed themselves from the mountainside of Xanderos’s lair.

The group eventually made their way into the foothills of the mountain and found themselves standing outside a familiar inn. Melpomene glanced to the nearby treeline, beyond which a pair of cutpurses had recently been killed, less than gently. After hesitating for a moment, the aasimar shrugged and followed her companions through the inn’s doors, drawing her hood down over her face.

Within, the inn was less filled than it had been previously, and a low murmur of conversation covered the patrons like a comfortable coat. As the group walked up to the bar, a wake of silence spread behind them. When they reached the barkeep, a cold but professional look on his face, the inn had grown silent.

Nissa cleared her throat. The barkeep scanned the faces of the taller members of the party before Nissa said, “Down here.” When the man met her eyes, she continued. “We’d like a large room or two.”

The barkeep’s too-polite smile returned to his face. “Four gold per room.” Nissa’s eyes narrowed. It was vastly more expensive than when they had been through this area only days ago. The gnome sighed and fished a few coins from her purse, sliding them onto the bar.

When the man did not move to pick up the gold, Nissa asked, “Are you all ok?” Silence met her question. Nissa pulled another pair of gold coins and placed them on the bar. “A round for the lovely patrons.” Low murmur of comments flitted about the room, curiosity and thirst breaking through the veneer of chilly xenophobia. Nissa smiled as she reached for more coins. “Make it two rounds.”

Wun Way gestured at the quiet room as she unslung her lute. “Seems you could use a performer.” The barkeep looked as if he might rebuke her, then the bluster left him like the air from a deflated bubble, and he nodded. The half-elf brought a stool to a corner of the inn - not the corner where the cutpurse had been dealing cups previously - and began to play.

Nissa and Brienne began to smile as they heard the opening lines to the tale of Phileus and Nicodemus, the clandestine lovers they had helped rescue and reunite what felt like a lifetime ago. One the son of nobility, the other a houndmaster without any hounds, their connection had proven stronger than kidnapping, stronger than miles of separation, stronger than the schemes of foul orcs. It was the tale of the adventure that had first crossed their paths with that of the shaman who had so nearly brought the three to doom, with their new companions beside them, but none of the three would have undone the rescue if given the chance.

There was something strange about the performance, and after a few moments they were able to place their fingers on it - they had never heard Wun Way perform in such a silent space before. Regardless, before long feet began to tap against the wooden planks, and there was the occasional slap on a leg. Halfway through the song, the patrons had begun to forget their fear and started to genuinely enjoy themselves. Slowly, a few people made their way up to the bar to claim their two free drinks. As he drew mugs of ale for his regulars, the barkeep began to look visibly relieved.

After Wun Way finished the ballad, calls of “Encore!” rang out, and after her second song, the inn seemed to return to normal. For her singing, the bard earned a pair of silver coins and a pile of copper. She made her way up to the bar amid patrons singing the new ballad they had learned and pressed the money to the polished bar. “Orlane Special,” she said, smiling at the barkeep. When he began to look at her with a blank gaze, she adjusted her request, “I’ll take your best wine.” The barkeep shook his head slightly, then brought out a dusty red bottle, an unbroken wax seal covering the top. It was a deep red, not as good as Orlane Special, but certainly better than what the rest of the bar goers were drinking that night.

Down the bar, Nissa and Pock were nursing tankards taller than their heads. Nissa’s narrowed eyes followed the loud people as the bumbled around the inn. “Do you ever get annoyed being surrounded by tall folk?”

Pock took a deep swallow and seemed to fall into deep thought for a few seconds before smiling faintly at his gnomish companion. “I don’t mind.”

The night followed without comment. The next morning, a few travelers sat eating breakfast as the group came down from their rooms. They took a table, and the barkeep came over immediately, wiping his hands on a clean rag and smiling. He offered them breakfast, and brushed away their coin, claiming the cost of the rooms had included meals.

“You might be able to help us with something else,” Brienne said as the man began to turn away. “We’re in the area searching for some hardy monsters, protected from blade and hammer. Would you happen to know where we might find something matching this description?”

The barkeep shook his head. “You’ll be looking for a local ranger, someone with knowledge of the surrounding area. You can try Ren, if you’d like. He passes through here every two ten-days.” He shrugged apologetically. “But last he was here was three nights ago. He was headed east; you might be able to catch up with him if you make good time.”

The road from the inn headed south of the Lurkwood, curving to the north of the Evermoors, and led to the mountain range of Silverymoon. It was at this mountain range that they found Ren. A mountain road led up into the foothills of Silverymoon, and at its base was the Hunting Post, a prosperous inn. It served as the central pillar for a meager shanty town, existing mainly to cater to the needs of adventurers planning to head up the mountains.

The Hunting Post was crowded with a mix of individuals, varied as the corners of the world, and after asking around they quickly found Ren, a ranger with an easy smile and flame-red hair that waved in the wind. When asked about the creatures they sought, he nodded thoughtfully. “Aye, I might know of some beasties you could have an interest in,” he began, “but not on this side of the pass. Y’d need to cross, and Bolga’s been holding back parties.” He gestured to a stolid woman arguing with a pair of dragonborns.

The ranger explained that the Post regularly sent wagons across the pass, bringing goods and adventurers to the towns beyond. However, the last three wagons had gone missing, and no groups who had been sent to investigate had returned. Now, Bolga was cautiously preventing others from crossing.

As the dragonborns departed from Bolga’s side grumbling, Brienne led the others to the woman. “Bolga?” she asked, drawing her attention and a nod. “We’d like to cross the pass, and heard you’ve been having some difficulties. Do you think it could be bandits?”

Bolga shook her head, wiping her hands on her leather apron. “Ain’t had bandits in this area for years. We get the occasional manticore, but they rarely give us any trouble. Can’t imagine they’ve waylaid three caravans, not to mention the adventuring party who offered to go investigate.” She looked pointedly at the group, letting her eyes roam over the assortment of weapons. “I imagine you have a similar proposition?”

Nods were shared, all around. “We should be able to handle your problem,” Wun Way said.

As it turned out, there were a handful of adventurers who were tired of waiting, and eager to assist in clearing the pass. Among them was Ren, the fiery ranger. They brought with them one of the last remaining wagons, loaded up with equipment, food, and news. As they all made their way up the stony path, a cry of “Wait!” came from behind.

As they turned, they saw Bolga huffing up from the Post, chainmail glinting beneath her leather apron, a wide wall shield resting across her back and a bronze mace swinging easily from her belt.

The trek was long, and the air grew colder as they made their way up the pass. After several hours, Ravain turned to the others, quietly saying, “I’m going to see if I can detect what we’re up against, give us a heads up.” The others nodded, and the ranger closed his eyes, allowing his awareness to spread out into the world around him. Like a bright beacon, he felt the presence of an elemental - and nearby. Ravain’s eyes snapped open, and the others reached for their weapons as he glanced from side to side. “Elemental. Close.” The group glanced up at the peaks surrounding them, but there was nothing to see. Realization flitted across Ravain’s face, and he addressed the walking adventurers. “Which one of you is it?”

Sheepishly, Ren removed his cloak, and his flame-red hair flicked back and forth in the wind - only it wasn’t hair, it was actual flame. “Sorry. Fire genasi. Didn’t realize I would spook you.” Ravain mumbled what might have been an apology and looked away.

“So there aren’t any other elementals in the area, or celestials, or infernals, or dragons,” Melpomene ticked off on her fingers. “What else could it be?”

Bolga interrupted the gathered party. “The pass gets narrower up ahead. Harder to tell what’s coming.” She looked to Ravain and Nissa. “Figure you could do a bit of scouting, see what’s waiting for us?”

Ren stepped up to the group, hood back over his head. They now noticed a light steam rising from the leather. “I’d be happy to help look ahead.”

So the two rangers and the rogue crept ahead while the rest of the caravan watered and rested the donkeys. Nissa raised her hood and twisted the ring on her finger, fading from view as Ravain picked his way up the steep rocky cliffs. There were a few short pips from an ocarina behind them, and then a swallow flitted past the ranger’s head into the sky. When Ravain looked back to the path below, Ren was gone.

Half an hour later, the three returned to the waiting wagon. “Seems like there are more manticores in the area than you thought,” Ravain said to Bolga. “I heard a few mating calls, and there’s evidence of a handful of them roaming these parts. Still probably not enough to account for what’s happened here, but more than I’d expect.”

“The road is blocked up ahead,” Nissa chimed in. “At a narrowing of the path, between two cliffs. Couple of boulders, just lying in the middle of the road.”

Bolga shrugged. “It’s a mountain pass, these things happen.”

But the gnome was shaking her head in disagreement. “The boulders weren’t the same as the cliffs above them. Totally different composition. These boulders were moved there, on purpose, or not there at all.”

“Illusions?” Bolga’s eyebrows rose in surprise.

Brienne shrugged. “Could be a group of bandits found some way to lure in the manticores and get them to sabotage the wagons.”

Bolga looked uneasy. “I told you, we don’t have bandit problems here.” Her voice seemed less sure than it had earlier that day. She glanced back over the waiting adventurers and the single wagon. “Of course, I can handle myself against a group of manticores, but my business interests would be better served making sure my customers are kept safe.” She jerked her head back down the pass, then pointed ahead. “At the peak of the pass, you’ll find a flag tower. Set it to the all-clear, and I’ll know to lead them back over.” Her lips set into a grim line. “If you make it up there.”

Before long, the group, along with Ren, reached the point of which Nissa had spoken. As she said, the pathway narrowed until two couldn’t cross abreast, and the cliffs on either side rose quickly, though in a pinch one could scramble their way up the slopes. Large boulders sat, sunk into the surrounding rock of the cliffs, while a pair of boulders sat in the middle of the road, blocking the way forward. Upon closer inspection, the surface of the boulders differed, and it was possible those on the road and those in the cliffs were of different origins.

The group waited at the bend in the road before the blockage, speaking quietly. After conferring, Pock stepped forward and gestured at the boulders, attempting to dispel any magical effects on them. However, there was no change.

“Not illusions, then,” Nissa murmured. Just then, a manticore called out, sounding very near.

Brienne glanced between the two cliffs. “Well, let’s see what we can do.” She gestured the rest of the group forward, and they walked up to the blockade, with Brienne bringing up the rear. Just as they reached the boulders, a rumble echoed off the rocks, and behind them a matching boulder rose up from the ground, sealing off their exit. Rasping laughter complemented the rumbling as four large bodies peered out from behind the cliffside boulders; their rough grey hides had provided perfect cover against the stone. Atop each torso were a pair of heads, ugly and mean.

“Ettins,” Ravain growled. There was a larger rumble, and a large shape emerged from the cliffside itself, a segmented and dusty torso seemingly made up of rocks. The stone giant had silvery tattoos, more like carvings in its arms and torso, that glowed as it finished calling forth the boulders. There was a moment’s hesitation, then weapons were drawn from sheaths and battle was joined.

Most of the ettins lifted rocks from their feet and began launching them into the midst of the cornered party, but the nearest monster leapt down from its hiding spot and began swinging its fists in the air. Ciri and Nissa returned fire at the ettins while Brienne, Ravain, and Ren stood in the path of the approaching ettin. Pock turned to the giant, feeling his resolve hardening against his foe. He reached deep for the crux of his magic and spoke a powerful word. In an endless second, wills were tested, and then the stone giant blinked out of existence, banished from this plane entirely - for the time being. Pock clenched his teeth as he focused on maintaining the spell, then turned to raise his hammer against the ettins.

At this point, a trio of manticores had perched atop the cliffs, and had begun flinging their barbed tail spikes at the party. One had landed close to an ettin, however, and Wun Way concentrated, setting off a shattering blast between the two. As Ravain’s blades brought down the first ettin, Melpomene shouted at the remainders, mocking their accuracy and questioning their skills. In response, a flurry of thrown stones landed, several striking Melpomene and Pock. The gnome shook off the glancing blow, maintaining concentration on the stone giant’s absence.

Pock tossed a glowing bolt at the nearest ettin, his strike leaving a glowing imprint around the monster. Brienne leapt up the cliff face and brought Mjolnir down on the glowing ettin, knocking it to its knees while the others brought down another. With the assistance of Ren, that ettin was soon dispatched, and only one ettin remained. The manticores seemed to suspect how this was playing out, and took to the skies. Wun Way saw them off with several magical missiles which singed their feathers as they flew off.

The final ettin looked around at its fallen friends and turned to scramble off the side of the cliff. In a second Brienne was darting after it, tossing Mjolnir as she reached for handholds. The hammer’s strike was enough to delay the ettin, and Ravain leapt upon the monster, striking it down. Their enemies vanquished, the party clustered around the empty spot where the giant had vanished. Weapons were hefted, spells were prepared, and, with a final glance around the group, Pock released the spell.

The stone giant reappeared, dazed and off-balance. As soon as it materialized, a flurry of blows struck it. Shattering spells, hammer blows, smiting strikes, a volley of bolts and arrows, and several sword slices hit the giant in the span of a breath, bringing the gargantuan to its knees. As the giant brought up its heavy arms, for defense, or to attack, Ravain slipped inside its reach and jumped, planting his swords deeply in the giant’s chest. With the sound of an avalanche, the giant fell backwards, and the boulders it had summoned sank back into the earth.

Banter and congratulations were traded back and forth as the group cleared the road of ettin corpses and rocks. Ravain reclaimed his swords, and the party made its way up to the peak of the pass. There, the flag tower stood tall, though it more resembled a rickety shack. It held sturdy, though, as Nissa climbed to the top and raised the bright red flag, signalling against the blue skies that the way was clear.

Still laughing and conversing amiably, the group began the winding trek down the other side of the mountains.

#dnd stories

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sceawere · 7 years

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crush | alfie solomons

@james-kezia-delaney requested alfie + age difference

“What did you even do?”

“Crushed a glass, don’t worry yourself”

You were picking tiny fragments of glass out of Alfie’s hand, tweezing them carefully. He kept laughing at the grimaces you pulled as you went, squinting and baring your teeth when you pulled out a tricky piece.

You and he had been dancing around each other ever since you started working for him a few months back, consisting of probably a few too many late nights drinking in the office than was proper between a boss and his employee. Nothing had ever really happened but there was a feeling there, a tension. For fucks sake, you’d giggled.

Between cleaning him up after ‘business meetings’, making sure he actually ate and slept at some point, and going round to check on his house and make sure his staff got paid while he was otherwise engaged, you felt like you were already bloody married to the man. All without even one drunken fumble on his desk. It was a fucking shame, in your opinion.

“On purpose?”

“Not entirely, no”

You flicked your eyes up under your lashes and shook your head at him.

“It’s a good job I’m here. How did you ever manage without me?”

“Been wondering that myself quite a bit lately”

Your lips pulled into a lopsided grin, reaching behind you to drop the tweezers onto the desk and reach for the bottle of fluid, bringing your cloth covered knee up to support his hand.

“Right, this is going to sting”

“Don’t go getting blood all over my floor”

“You got glass all over it!”

“Exactly, don’t add to the mess”

You rolled your eyes, peeling his fingers back a little to open up his palm. You gently tipped the bottle, dispensing a tiny amount of disinfectant. You set about carefully cleaning the scrapes on the skin, checking each tear as you went.

“You look like you know what you’re doing here”

You scoffed a laugh.

“You should hope so”

“You got training?”

“Uh, you could say that. Kind of got thrown into it”

“What, were you a nurse in the war or something?”

“No, I was too young. I tried, they wouldn’t take me. By the time they would, I was already working at the war office so”

You shrugged, your thumb tracing down his forearm to catch a stray bead of cleanser. He brought his good hand up to cover over yours, flexing his fingers around the digits and squeezing slightly.

“What d’ya mean ‘too young’?”

“I mean I was too young. Is that not self-explanatory?”

“How old were you?”

You split your gaze between his hand and his eyes and he was looking increasingly worried with ever glance.

“When the war started?”

“Yeah”

“I…don’t think I’d had my birthday yet. No, yeah, it was after so – 15”

Alfie let out a rush of air from his lungs and tried to cover it with a cough.

“You alright?”

“I’m-yeah. Could you do me a favour, love? Could you stop touching me, there’s a good girl,” he pulled his arm back, patting your knee to lower it from where you’d perched it on the edge of his chair “Thanks. I’m going to just, yeah that’s perfect, just leave that on the desk. Thank you, I’ll fix this myself”

You reached back out for the cloth and he swerved it out of the way.

“It’s…alright. I can-there’s only the bandage left and I-“

“No, no, love. That’s alright, you go back to your desk. There’s a good…girl. Fuck. Right, off, go”

He waved his hand off, avoiding your eyes. You flicked them back and forth, confused as to his sudden change in demeanour.

“Al…right then”

You stepped off the edge of the desk, standing for just a second to check he really wanted you to leave. You squinted, turning off with a confused tilt of the head.

Alfie watched as you shut the door behind you, fixing your hair and half looking back over your shoulder as you walked past the windows that framed his office.

When you disappeared off behind the barrels again, he pulled open the drawer with his good hand. Out came the bottle of whisky, uncorked with his teeth, and took a long, deep swig. The slam of the bottle on the desk sent the papers shuffling and he sighed.

“15. Fucking hell, Alfie. You were off strangling bastards and she was…playing with her fucking dolls probably”

He leaned back in the chair, looking up at the ceiling. He let a whine out as he shuffled his neck on the headrest.

“It’s happening. You’re officially a dirty old man”

A light knock came on the glass panel of the door and Ollie inched in.

“You…doing alright there, boss?”

“Oliver. I’m going to need another bottle”

He raised the bottle in the air as a demonstration, keeping his eyes up on the chipped paintwork.

“I’ll bring one. Can I ask…only I noticed the new girl was in here before and then she was acting weird and I-“

Alfie rolled his arm down, letting a finger free from the grip to point at him.

“Did you know she were barely twenty summat when you hired her?

“I-yes? Not exactly, but I thought she was about that. Is it a problem?”

“Why would it be a problem?”

“I-it…wouldn’t?”

Alfie scowled, bringing his arm back in and sitting up in one movement. He turned his head towards Ollie.

“Why would you think there was a problem?”

“It seemed like you thought there was a problem there”

“No…no…why would there be? I mean, she’s an adult now and she can-“he waved his free hand up towards the window, forgetting it was injured. He turned his palm back around to see where the first swells of blood were working their way back to the surface.

“Fuck, boss. Do you need that seeing to?”

“No, it’s fine. There’s no problem”

He brought his hand back down to lay upturned against the desk.

“I won’t need the bottle after all, its fine. You can go back to work”

“You sure?”

He hummed a response, rolling his tongue around his teeth while he considered. He sat for a long time in the quiet office, considering.

“No, there’s no problem. Not a problem there. You’re…talking to yourself though. So that might be a sign of something you fucking…”

He slammed back into the chair again. He brought his good hand up to rub at his eyes.

“Fuck. This is a problem”

You didn’t directly deal with Alfie for a few days after that. It always seemed to be Ollie who he needed, even for things you usually covered. He’d become an intermediary and with the tight, almost sympathetic smiles he was giving you every time you briefed him on something to pass over, he seemed to have acknowledge the strange change himself.

After a few more times, you were sick of acting like it was business as usual and tip-toeing around. Frustration was becoming an increasingly predominant emotion since you took this job.

“Ollie!”

You cornered him in the corridor, shuffling him back against the stack of barrels.

“What’s happening here?”

“What is happening?”

“What do you mean?”

“With me and Alfie?”

“Why would I know anything about that?”

“Because you’re the only person he’s talked to in over a week”

“He talked to the boys on the floor yesterday”

“He barked at them. Aggressively, and with fervour. He might have actually barked at one point”

Ollie sighed, eyes flicking up and down the walkway as if you were about to stuff half a brick into his jacket and each burrow away into opposite ends of the night.

“This is exactly what I mean”

“What?”

“You acting like this, its confirmation that something is happening that I’ve been left out on! He’s been avoiding me for longer than he ever has. He won’t even look in my direction!

A week ago we were lying on his office floor, half pissed on whisky, while he told me about his goddamn mother and now he won’t look at me?! What the fuck happened?!”

Ollie sighed again, stuttering about for a few moments until you slapped the side of his head.

“Snap out of it and get to it, boy”

“Don’t call me ‘boy’ - I’m older than you”

“You’re barely…,”a realisation suddenly came to you and Ollie looked over your face confused as you dropped back against the wall “shit fuck shit. That’s it! He got weird when I told him-shit. Well, shit.”

“When you told him…?”

“That I was 15 when the war started”

“He asked me if I knew your age when you left. He seemed put out”

You nodded, pulling your cheek at one side in a grimace.

“Yeah, I think maybe Alfie has a bit of a complex”

“I think at this point he actually has a collection. Thinking of buying him some kind of display case actually, might do a whip round for his birthday”

You smiled at him, glad for the break.

“At least I know how to address this now. Thanks, Ol”

You clapped his shoulder, walking back into the main room.

“I think I…did absolutely nothing actually but…nice to be appreciated”

You blew through the door to the office, working your way to his side before dropping the stack of carefully labelled folders onto the desk in front of him. The papers let out a thwack as they slapped against the surface, a rush of displaced air fluttering the edges of the newspaper he’d been studying. Alfie turned his head and followed the sway of your dress up to look at you, looking startled.

“Uh…”

“I need signatures on these orders- here, here, and...also here”

You looped crosses next to the right lines, Alfie following with his eyes. You threw the pen lazily across the desk and it clattered its way over to rest.

“Then the order forms for next month need your eye on them before I ship them out”

Thwack.

“The leases on two of your buildings are due up soon so I rang your lawyer and had them sort it. You have a meeting to finalise things this afternoon. I pushed the Thompson meeting because quite frankly, fuck that guy”

Thwack.

“Here are the amended contracts back – no significant quarrels”

Thwack.

“Output reports for the week”.

“Sweet-I mean Miss-“

Thwack.

“Your guy sent the report on the Italians activities. It’s riveting and by that I mean dense and mostly incomprehensible to me”

Thwack.

“Payroll for the house staff”

Thwack.

“Are you-“

“Payroll for the informants and police buy-offs”

Thwack.

“Actually I-“

“Autopsy report-that one was unexpected”

Thwack.

“Yes, that’s-“

“More…things to do with dead people”

Thwack.

“Oh, and there’s this as well”

You turned towards him. He was sat with his elbow on the table, fist over his mouth, eyebrows raised. He looked like a puppy who’d been told off for yapping as you handed him the final paper.

“What is it?”

“It’s a note handwritten by yours truly asking if you’re a baby”

He stalled slightly from where he’d been lifting his glasses, looking up at you.

“Sorry, did you say-“

“I asked,” you bent at the waist, hands wrapping around the armrest of his chair. You made sure you had full eye contact before continuing “if you were a baby. A tiny little whiny baby. There was some other colourful imagery in the first draft but I dumped it. I found being succinct was actually more effective that any florid dramatics I could scrounge from my otherwise wasted literature courses”

“Ah”

“Yes”

He pursed his lips, his eyes flaring then squinting. He leant back in the chair almost imperceptibly, the small settling noise the wood made one of the only indicators.

“That’s an interesting choice you made there”

“Uh-huh, I thought that as well”

“Very interesting”

“How turned on are you right now?”

A noise halfway between a hum and a squeak came from his throat and you couldn’t help the smirk that made its way to your face. Your tongue poked out to wet your lip before you bit down on it and Alfie brought his eyes down to watch the movement.

“That would be…very unprofessional of me, to say the least”

You shrugged.

“I wouldn’t mind”

“Well, as your employer…and your elder” he grimaced a little at that and you pushed air through your nose, sucking your cheeks in a little “I think I should take the higher moral ground there and not entertain such an action”

He cleared his throat, dropping his glasses back to his chest and placing the note on the desk before him. He tapped the ink with the point of his finger.

“This is…an interesting word choice”

“You flaked because I’m younger than you?!”

“I did nothing of the sort”

“You were all over me before you found out-“

“I did nothing of the sort, I think you’ll find”

“You were flirting. You were. Don’t pull that face! You-“you stood, pointing your finger at him “were flirting. You were all up for it – until you found out my age. And it’s stupid!”

“It’s not stupid. It’s not”

“I’m a fucking adult, I can fuck who I want. So, that’s not the problem. You’re an adult, and you want to fuck me. So, that’s not the problem. Be honest. You want to fuck me and then make me breakfast, because your mother’s recipe for those spicy egg things sounded incredible. And then take me to a goddamn art gallery and tell me I’m pretty. Admit it! You want those things”

“Those are…incredibly specific”

“I’ve had time to think about this…between you flirting and ignoring me!”

“Will you please lower your voice?”

“No! Admit it!”

“Admit what? You’ve accused me of a lot of things today”

“Ok first, you like me”

“Agreed”

“And-yeah…you do?”

“Yes. In the fuck-and-make-you-breakfast kind of way, just to clarify”

“Right, yes, thanks. I did want to check on that last part”

He nodded, bringing his hand up to scratch at his ear and you mirrored the action to tuck your hair back. Your energy had suddenly left you and now you just felt a bit awkward.

“But you won’t anything about it?”

“I don’t think its best, no”

“Why?”

He sighed, shuffling the papers about on the desk.

“Sweetheart”

“Don’t bullshit me with…just be honest with me, please”

“I’m a decade older than you. I’m a…not a good man. You’re young and sweet and you deserve the chance to find someone better. You have time to find someone better. Don’t just go with me because I’m exciting and it’s all exciting and you don’t have the time behind you to know what the decision you’re making is even about”

“I want you!”

“You don’t even know what you’re talking about-“

“What, because I’m young?! You were my age when you went off to fight a war but I’m too stupid to pick who I want to possibly try and date? How does that make any sense?”

“You’re not stupid, you’re not. That’s categorically and clearly untrue. And those are different things”

“They are because I’m not going to die because we kiss, Alfie. That’s fucking stupid”

“No but being with me means you might and you know that. You know that. You just slapped a fucking autopsy on my desk and you’re pratting about like this” he slammed his hand down over the papers “if you don’t want me to treat you like a fucking schoolgirl with a crush, don’t act like one!”

You stepped back, rolling your jaw. You looked away, blinking. You had nothing to say.

“You can give the forms to Ollie when you’re done”

You swung around to leave and you heard the creak of his chair as he stood.

“Sweetheart, I didn’t-“

“I actually would like if you didn’t speak to me at the moment, Mr Solomons. I would actually prefer…”

You stayed where you were, halfway through the doorway. You leant your shoulder against the door, draping your fingers over the handle.

“You can give the forms to Ollie, he’ll get them to me”

You walked out, pulling the door shut behind you. You grabbed your bag and coat on the way passed and walked straight out the building.

The papers were stacked neatly at your station the next day, with an envelope on top. You noted the looping letters – Alfie’s hand – before checking the contents. You brow scrunched as you read over the lines, dropping the envelope to the table absentmindedly.

“If it’s not right, I can do another one. Not really used to this sort of thing. Most people leave the employ of this place, it’s because they’ve gone to the fucking ground, not an interview”

You looked up at his voice, watching him lumber towards you.

“Is your back ok?”

“I slept on the sofa, it’s taking a while to get going this morning”

“I’ve told you – get a proper bed put in upstairs and then you can-“

“I know, I know. You gonna use it?”

“The…bed?”

He smiled, leaning back against the edge of your desk. His hands gripped at the wood on either side of him.

“The letter of recommendation”

“No. No. Why would I?”

He brought his hands up to cross over his chest, his thumbs tucked out.

“You’d be well within your rights to tell me to sod off after yesterday”

“I like working here”

“I honestly don’t understand why”

You smiled nervously, folding the letter back and laying it over the envelope.

“Sometimes David brings me biscuits from his sister and they’re really good. If this was actually a bakery, I’d suggest you hire her but…”

He was smiling still when you looked up to him, his eyes crinkled at the side.

“I didn’t mean what I said yesterday. No, actually that’s a lie. But I do apologise for my tone”

“I understood what you meant. It wasn’t entirely without merit”

“I don’t think you’re immature or stupid or anything like that, I wouldn’t dare suggest. But I stand by it. You’re a good girl-a good woman, forgive me. And I do think you deserve better. I couldn’t live with myself if I felt I was even in the least bit taking advantage”

“I deserve what I want, too. Don’t you think?”

“I do”

“And if that’s you? If I’ve made a considered and honest decision? If I’ve weighed up my choices and thought about the consequences. If I prove that to you – would you consider it?”

“You don’t need to prove yourself to me, love”

“Obviously I do”

“No. It’s not about proving we’re worth each other, that’s bullshit”

“Then what-“

He pushed forward and your breath caught as his palm came to hold your jaw. You looked up to him as his eyes considered you. Neither of you said anything but you felt like you were continuing the conversation regardless. You took a deep breath, raising your brow, and swaying slightly in place.

“I’m not getting any younger”

He laughed at that, his thumb tracing over the tint in your cheek.

“You’re going to be the fucking death of me, aren’t you, woman?”

“How do you want to go? I’ll make a note”

“One date. One. We’ll go from there”

“Yeah?”

“Yes. One. Don’t get excited”

“Oh no, I’m sure that’ll be an emotion that definitely won’t be expressed”

“Better not be”

“I’ll be sure to be exceedingly dour”

“If you could, I would prefer it”

Your face broke out in a smile and he cleared his throat.

“Stop doing that”

“Smiling?”

“Looking fucking happy like that. I don’t like what it does to your eyes”

“My eyes?”

“Hmmm”

“What do they look like?”

“Nice”

“They look nice?”

“They do”

“I’m very sorry”

“Yeah, you better be. Fucking liberty”

He back-stepped, knocking against the desk and you threw your hands up to cover the laugh that broke from you. He groaned and swore under his breath.

“You alright there, old man?”

His finger flew up to point at you.

“You ever call me that again and-“

“You’ll do what?”

“Absolutely nothing, probably, because by your tone I’d only be reinforcing some sick little perversion of yours”

“Oh! How dare you!”

He grumbled as he turned to leave and you bounced in place on your toes.

“You’re going to fall in love with me, Alfie Solomons! I just know it. In fact, I’m fucking betting on it!”

“Make sure you check whether he’s one of mine before you put your money down, love. I’m not having you clear me out twice”

@collecting-stories

@james-k-delaney

@thebakerstreetdragon

@ateliefloresdaprimavera

@weirdnewbie

@bloode-money

@photograiphy-00

@yourenotmytype

#peaky blinders #peaky blinders fic #peaky blinders imagine #alfie solomons #|writing

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robbingjohnny · 7 years

Text

3 RED BIRD IN THE CITY

Robin and Johnny were pretty glum one day for it had seemed the snow would never melt. It had gotten colder. It was the last day of March and the streets were solid ice. The gutters were packed high with dirty black snow and the skies were gray. This is when he saw the red bird.

It was a parrot of sorts. It must have escaped from a birdcage and slipped out a window into the frigid river wind. Robin and Johnny saw it together while crossing the street.

It flew awkwardly, darting from roof to roof, unsure of its place amongst the metallic towers.

“That’s a fucking omen,” said Robin.

“I don’t know, you think so?”

“If you want it to, it can mean something.”

Johnny decided to follow the refugee tropical bird.

He followed as it flew from roof to roof. It led him close to the river. He saw the girl in the green dress that had been watching him from his soapbox earlier standing by the Hudson. She was beautiful. Her eyes were like marbles in the sun. She smiled and he smiled and he kept walking.

She was behind him like a shadow as he moved down the sidewalk. He felt that he loved her, but that was foolish. He looked back at her. Her faded light green dress blew in the wind, she must have been freezing. He stopped to wait to cross a street and she stood next to him. She whispered something to him that sounded French,

“Ils pensent que la liberté est une putain.”

“I’m sorry, I don’t speak French”

“Nice ass!” yelled someone on the street grinning at her.

“Sexy bitch!” screamed another voice from the opposite corner.

The girl in the faded green dress only stared into the sun. Johnny yelled at the voices to shut up but they had disappeared.

“I’m so sorry, what’s your name?” he said, turning to the girl, but she had disappeared too.

Days passed and he felt lonesome. He began to text his old girl friend from the hills and drink whiskey more. One morning he was taking the 6 train to SoHo, drinking his morning whiskey, looking at a text message from his girl friend when suddenly he looked up and there she was, She was wearing the green dress smiling at him. “What have you been doing lately? I haven’t seen you around?” It was a funny thing to say, it just came out. She smiled and with broken English said, “I’ve been swimming with the ghosts, looking for new waves.”

Then the train stopped and she got off.

That night there was a package in the mail from the hills, in it was an old tattered book. Robin said it was from his cousin who lived high in the hills and mountains. The book had mystifying powers on the brain and soul if you ate the pages. They took a little sliver out of a page and put the paper underneath their tongues.

“Where should we go?” asked Robin

“To the water to find a wave, to swim with the ghosts!”

So they headed to the mighty River, the long estuary arm that flowed both ways, salt water tides pushing up and glacial fresh water pushing down. They crossed the George Washington Bridge and stared out at the glittering island city from the palisade cliffs. They trekked down to the waters edge, he could see the whole city in the reflection of the river, a wavering electric shimmer in the currents. The cliffs above were jagged and purple. He closed his eyes and felt the poison of the pages wrap over his brain.

“Ils pensent que la liberté est une putain.”

“What you doing lately? I haven’t seen you around”

“Swim”

He opened his eyes and leapt into the flowing mirror of the city, the towers shattered, and the water was warm, it swallowed his body, underneath it was murky and dark.

“I found you!”

“Don’t look back,” she said, and he didn’t, he swam to her and they embraced, the whole world seemed to spin. A great wave roared over him and he felt his mouth fill up with water. She was gone. He could hear Robin yelling his name, he tried to swim towards him but the current was too strong. The waves pushed him south around the edge of the island and into the salt water of the East River. He was washed ashore, somewhere in the island chain city, far away from the palisade cliffs.

He climbed up onto the shore. There was a thin girl with green hair smoking a cigarette.

“Where am I?”

“Brooklyn! The capital of millennial fun!”

4 BODEGA VEGAN

His phone was dead and he was beginning to feel as if every decision he had ever made in his life was a mistake. The sky was thin and gray and a gapping hole seemed to be opening up, a light drizzle came down his face.

He ended up in Bushwick. He had a group of friends that lived in a loft in the neighborhood. He wandered past street art and noodle factories to where he thought their apartment was. Everything looked the same, hundreds of warehouses turned into lofts, stumbling kids in black pea coats walked the streets. His friends lived in an old shoe factory that now was a high-end apartment.

He hit the buzzer for his friend. The large factory loft was in the middle of a mostly Latino and black street, kids were jump roping outside. The new condos were modern and tall; their shadows loomed over the old neighborhood. The door swung open, it was Johnny’s friend Chaz.

“Hey man! What are you doing round here, come on up!”

Chaz was rich as fuck. All of his roommates were there and they were all doing lots of blow.

It was six o’clock, Johnny texted Robin on Chaz’s phone to let him know he was alive. He sent back a thumb up emogi. Chaz began passing around a bottle of whiskey. Johnny reluctantly sipped the brown liquid, still very much feeling the effect of the little sliver of paper. The roommates began passing around their cellular phone screens and watching a video. It was a video of a group of police offers killing a man.

“Well, I don’t know,” said one of Chaz’s friend.

“Oh well you know, it’s America” said Chaz

“I don’t agree with it”

“Nor do I, the things, but you know, you can’t just fucking, you know, you get shot”

“Yeah, well damn, I don’t agree with the things”

“Yeah neither do I”

“No, I think that I don’t know”

“There are bad things and good things.”

There was now another vide of a police officer shooting someone in the back, live streaming on the flat screen TV in the room. They all studied the video and nodded over their cocaine. Finally someone spoke up.

“Turn that off dude! No one wants to see that, we’re trying to get high! Yo Johnny, here’s ten bucks, go down to the bodega and get us some steak and cheeses, get yourself one too. Normally I’m a vegan but I’m fucking drunk right now.”

“All right” Johnny said, wanting an excuse to leave the room.

Outside two kids were play fighting on the corner, swatting at each other with their fists.

Johnny realized he was still holding a bottle of whiskey. He glanced at it then took a pull. The entire street was vibrating.

He saw the kid with the hot palms walking down street wearing a hoodie. Johnny waved at him.

“Yo, man!”

The hot palm kid smiled. A cop walked up behind Johnny, somehow he didn’t notice or care he was holding the whiskey bottle. The hot palm kid froze but before he could run the cop grabbed him and took the kids hands and bent them behind his back and put his wrists in cuffs. He pushed the kid into a police car and slammed the door.

Johnny went into the bodega and got the sandwiches. Blue and red lights flashed into the bodega from the police car.

He made it back to the apartment and everyone was looking at pictures of a girl on their phones. She had infinity tattoos on her thighs and was posing in front of street murals. Johnny handed out the sandwiches and they quietly began to devour them. He glanced at their I Phone screens. They were looking at the girl in the green dress. He could tell by her eyes.

He left the apartment without saying bye; outside the sun was rising over the East River.

When he got home he had a missed call and a voice mail from home. It was the soft voice of his mother. His grandfather had died last night. He had to go home.

5 GRANDFATHER’S JACKET

Back home, in the hills, Johnny sat in the kitchen of his grand parents. His grandmother sat next to him. Outside it was raining.

“Now, I sleep alone” she said to him

“I know, I know grandma”

“What are you doing up there boy? Just drinking the Ale, dancing around like a drunken fool?”

“No, not just that Grandma-“

“All of his things, they are still here, untouched, it’s as if he’s still here.” She wandered out of the kitchen and Johnny was left alone, staring at the yellow linoleum. A box of cigars sat on the stove, bottles of soda in the fridge going flat. Johnny closed his eyes and enjoyed the silence of the room, yet he could feel the fresh ghost. The spirit of the old man hovered thick in the warm kitchen. It was a different ghost than the one he had felt in New York. The ghost of the old roommate was the ghost of a dream, the ghost of a persona, left on the apartment floor like coffee stained literature. The ghost he felt in the kitchen was different. Near the front door there was a photograph of the old man. Next to the photograph was an American flag folded in a triangle. The old man’s face was stoic and noble.

Johnny walked down the dim hallway, past photographs on the wood paneled walls, and into his grandmother’s bedroom. She was lying on the sheets staring at the ceiling. He stroked her hair and she faded into sleep. He looked at a closet door that was cracked open. Inside there was a jacket on a wire hanger. He took the jacket out and brushed the dust off the collar. He slid it on his body. He felt the ghost of the old man, cold and blue on his bones. He’d take this jacket back to the city.

6 HIGHBRIDGE PARK

Back in the city he felt he understood the ghosts, how to use them, wear them, hear them, he and Robin had started to write songs and sing them on the rooftops.

Mother’s day came and they decided to hike up town to Highbridge Park, where the oldest bridge in the whole city was. There they wrote a song for Johnny’s grandmother. They sung it at the sky:

Who am I in your heart?

Who am I in your brain?

Am I some drunken fool, or am I dancing in the rain-

On the pavement, on the pavement the day he died

Always trying to bring something back alive

Afterwards they went to a party and sang the song and danced. Johnny wore the jacket. They danced like fools. The dancing went on for six nights straight. By the end of it they were exhausted. They slept for an even longer amount of time, hibernating in thick blankets. When they woke up the snow was melting. Spring happened for a day and then it was summer.

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