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wildroseofarran · 4 months

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From the Wastes Into the Rain, Part I || Kelly, Rune, Quintane, & Pete || November, 2023

Rune: This trip was in dire need of reflection and meditation. Just his luck was normally a positive phrase in his regard. Having wandered too far in his sleep, somehow managing to cross doorways left and right, Felix Rune was startled awake by the sound of someone’s excruciating scream. Male, seemed like, and broken by the strain. The mage grabbed at his left ear, spinning towards the noise, only to see… nothing. Nothing beyond the sepia rain, sagging splintered trees, and broken cobblestone path being eaten by the crumbling nature of this dominion.

This was the Wasteland, and a waste of time. No one was ever truly here. An unmitigated realm of atrocities immortalized well before his existence. Before the existence of his mother, and a thousand generations before her. The realm was every Catholic’s nightmare. Every appalling torment and passive suffering man could fathom made its way here. Not to punish, not to dwell, but to teach. The Shadowlands were south of here. Battlegrounds lie beyond the rain. Wraiths were not interested in this place. They had an entire universe to themselves, and their own private Hells.

This was a beast in and of itself, and he must have walked here for a reason.

Rune lowered his hand from his ear. The small scars on the left side of his face warmed and his body stilled as the man screamed again.

He wasn’t real. This was just… a memory. That’s all this place was. If he kept his eyes forward, focused on just the one, the others could fade from his periphery. A woman in a chained box begging for food; a man crawling on his belly, dragging his dead and mangled feet by the sinew.

First come first serve. This man had screamed first. Must mean something.

“Ben je nog in leven?”

Rune: The stench of smoke hit his nostrils hard, but it was the stink of burning hair and flesh that slowed his pace. He tried again. Called out in his native tongue. Called out in Japanese. In hesitant Spanish.

“Are you still alive?”

Why couldn’t he find the carnage? There were memories here he didn’t want to see, and this one, the only one he wanted, he couldn’t.

The air had become hot and viscous. The Gauntlet. His hands rubbed vigorously together, warmed by primal static, he rubbed his palms against the brown gummy surface. The depth of color, the black at its core, reminded him of obsidian.

Harder and harder he rubbed. Like body heat against cold oil. Eventually, after what felt like an hour of diligence, a slit had been made just wide enough to squeeze through.

The sooner the better. He couldn’t have shimmied fast enough through the already tightening exit. This realm preferred its solitude, and couldn’t be bothered remaining open to the realm of its creation.

Autumn trees and cold grass. The threat of honest rain above and the scent of nearby hydrangeas. This wasn’t London. This... wasn’t London at all. Not where he had fallen asleep, anyway. Something in his gut told him he wasn’t anywhere in England.

But that could wait. Just five minutes. Covered in a sticky residue, having fallen out of – ah yes, a tree. Of course a tree. Just give him five minutes.

Kelly: Kelly Rose dug the heel of his hand into his hip and closed his eyes, cursing the coming rain for all he was worth. The bath he’d taken to ease the myriad aches in his body had helped but not enough.

Nothing was ever goddamn enough.

He limped into his kitchen for a bottle of water. It was darker now than it had been when he’d gotten into the bath. It was only afternoon, but the thick layer of storm clouds hanging over Edenton gave the appearance of late evening.

“Probably gonna rain all fucking night,” he sighed to himself, popping a couple of Vicodin. Just his luck.

He glanced out the window, vaguely wondering if it was dark enough for the light above his shed to have turned on, only to frown.

“What the f…”

He grabbed his cane and stepped out of the kitchen door and onto the back porch, staring at the man who had appeared in his yard.

“Who the hell are you and what are you doing on my property?”

Rune: Despite the steam rising from his clothes, the prone man was shivering, hand hovering over his left ear, but it was all he could manage for movement. Stepping sideways to and fro through the Gauntlet was an arduous task. Exhausting despite a century of practice.

But what he had heard was English, and having the authorities called would be a pain in his ass. He had no excuse for the primal slime covering his body, and couldn't think of anything better to do than raise a shaking finger. The index, for starters.

Kelly: Kelly’s eyes narrowed as he studied the man before him, his head at an ever so slight inquisitive tilt.

Something was…off. Besides the fact that a man in a suit was in the middle of his yard, of course. There was the steam sure, and the presence of some kind of something all over him that was visible even from his distance. But there was also a scent in the air beneath the humidity that seemed at once foreign and familiar, and with it a niggling sensation that he should know what it was.

Unfortunately for the stranger, this was the wrong man to ask for patience in a situation like this.

“Are you drunk? High? How’d you get into my yard?”

Rune: With a groan and a sigh, Rune rolled onto his back, eyes forced open despite the rain. What kind of luck had him sidestepping into even more rain?

But that voice... he tried to focus his gaze.

"I'd like to be."

The stranger's face was young, but that cane added years. He didn't mind the scar. Had some of his own. He was no Verbena.

"You wouldn't believe me."

Kelly: Both the rain and a healthy sense of survival kept Kelly firmly rooted to the porch. He’d already had one experience with being caught off guard recently and he wasn’t looking for a second one.

Just because this man looked harmless laying on the dying grass and being pelted with cold rain didn’t mean he was harmless.

“Try me,” he said, eyes still narrowed in suspicion. There wasn’t any hostility in his gaze or in his voice (for now), just a heavy and palpable caution.

Rune: "Prima," the mage took a breath, tried to sit up, and managed to lean on his elbows. "I fell through that tree, I think. I was at a friend's house in London, then I was sleepwalking, and then ik - I think I heard your voice."

Let's just leave out it was the Atrocities Realm, and I think I know why you sound like a walking pack of cigarettes.

This had to be the screaming man. The scars, the cane, the voice; he just didn't know why. And it was nearly impossible to concentrate in this cold.

Kelly: An ordinary person, having heard the explanation this stranger gave, would have gone back inside with a quickness and called the cops.

A person like Kelly, by contrast, gave the tree in his yard a long, speculative look.

The man said he’d fallen through the tree, not out of it. Now, as far as Kelly knew, the tree wasn’t a portal, and certainly not a portal to London. For someone to have entered his yard through it, a portal would’ve had to be created.

Then there was the matter of his voice…

“You think you heard my voice,” he repeated in a neutral tone. “What makes you think it was me?”

Rune: Rune was just hoping his luck would rear its head in a minute. He didn't want some persuasive spell between them, tainting this acquaintance so soon.

"I'll freeze to death before I can explain," was his throwing a baited line.

Kelly: “Don’t be dramatic. Worst you’ll get is pneumonia.”

That being said, it was annoying having to talk across the yard and through the rain, however wise it was to do so. But he wasn’t about to let this man in his house just because he supposedly heard his disembodied voice in London and decided to trespass about it.

Kelly nodded toward a bench beneath one side of the porch. The stranger could have shelter from the rain if he so wished.

Rune: Ah. There was his luck. Still, his arms were heavy, and his legs were like jelly. Too much adrenaline in thinning the Gauntlet without previous existing tears in the rift. He felt his age when hobbling to his feet, taking a moment to rest, hunched over with his hands on his knees.

You play poker to not feel this way, he thought. And people looked forward to that? Idiots!

The closer his approach, the stronger the scent of mint and pine cut through the tar-like stench left behind by the Umbra. His invitation was taken before an objection could be made, leaving behind the sticky residue without so much as a warning as he dropped his full weight on the bench.

Kelly: Man, if Kelly didn’t know any better he would assume this man really was just drunk. Going through a portal didn’t normally cause the sort of fatigue he was seeing on display here.

Normally being the operative word there. With every passing second, it became more and more apparent that exactly nothing about this was normal.

Only the substance clinging to his visitor and the scent he assumed it was emanating were of interest to Kelly. He just couldn’t shake the feeling that he should know what it was.

“You’re out of the rain. Start talking.”

Rune: Dark eyes roamed his host from toes to eyes. Lingered on his angry scar, not bothering to pretend otherwise. He was in the middle of an internal debate, about how to even explain knowing someone's voice based on their scream. He'd lived long enough to know.

What he decided to go with felt just a little too intimate.

"I know your scream."

Kelly: His host, standing with his arms crossed, was dressed comfortably in sweatpants and a long-sleeved T-shirt that covered the majority of the scars on his body. His hair was still damp from his bath and smelled of some sort of citrusy shampoo.

He would almost seem cozy and relaxed if not for cold skepticism in his eyes.

“You know my scream,” he repeated, perhaps a bit more sarcastically than he intended. “And apparently heard it all the way in London. Do you know what I’m about to say to you?”

Rune: Sarcasm or not, skepticism or not, the man was... pretty to look at. He needed some eye candy after his night.

"Know what not calling the police says about you?" The mage squinted. "You know screams have accents? You know what fire does to a voice?" That should confirm, shouldn't it?

Kelly: “I don’t scream.” It wasn’t an answer to any of the questions posed to him and positively reeked of layers and layers of defense mechanisms but intimate comments should always expect to meet a wall of resistance.

“You can’t identify someone based on a scream and even if you could, that still doesn’t explain how you ended up in my yard or why. Don’t be so quick to think I won’t call the cops.”

Rune: This wasn't a duel. Couldn't be called a battle of wits or any dispute. This was a trial, and a trial required evidence. He could have hobbled away by now. Could have forced himself back through the Gauntlet and hoped to keep his sanity, but he wanted to see how far this could go. Morbid curiosity.

"I followed your scream until I smelled smoke, extra crispy skin and hair. I followed until I hit a wall."

He scoffed and shook his head, droplets of water and muck flying every which way.

"I didn't hear you in London. I heard you in the Wasteland."

Kelly: The lightbulb finally went off in his head, prompting a very long, supremely exhausted sigh.

“You came out of the fucking Umbra. Of course you goddamn did.” Out of the Umbra and for his rotten luck, into his life.

The allusions to smoke and burning flesh would simply not be acknowledged, just like the comment about what fire did to voices. Acknowledging it would more than likely be interpreted as a willingness to answer questions or talk about it, which was most definitely not happening.

“Well, you found me. Consider your curiosity sated.”

Rune: "Hey, no fucking blasphemy."

Fingers combed through his hair, only to wince with surprise. Surprise out of plain forgetfulness. Now that he had found his man, he was finally aware of his body. More than adrenaline, he felt suffocated.

"I need a shower."

Kelly: “This is my house. I can blaspheme all I want. If god has a problem, he’s got a storm already brewing. He can strike me with fucking lightning.”

Kelly uncrossed his arms and leaned on his cane, nodding toward the side of the house as he opened the door.

“Hose is over there.”

Rune: Reckonings came in many forms, he almost said. He wanted to stay in whatever graces this was, so he kept his mouth shut. Maybe for an hour longer.

Fine. Guaranteed Umbra tar-jelly would make something interesting out of his grass. He'd call this probably-not-bluff and walk back into the rain. There was already a human-shaped darkness where he had landed.

At least it was never boring. The Mirror Zone made puddles surrounded by various mushrooms. The Null Zone caused sinkholes and enough tunnels to impress a gopher. What would the Wasteland create?

Kelly: A human-shaped darkness and weird happenings with the grass wouldn’t be out of place among everything else this particular yard had endured in the time Kelly had been living here.

Anything short of the house being swallowed up by the ground could be dealt with.

He had more important things to consider right now, like whether to call Leslie.

Leslie would probably get a wet stranger in his yard a towel…

Fine.

Rune: His host would return to a grumbling half-naked mage, muttering about the cotton fabric of his suit and never being able to recover his precious clothing. Soaked from head to toe with hair over his eyes and a puddle of unfortunate grime at his feet as he soaked his suit jacket with the hose. His shoes, his only salvageable possessions, sat neatly on the porch.

Kelly: While Kelly had been getting the towel, it had occurred to him to grab a garbage bag as well. He seriously doubted there was a single item the man had been wearing that hadn’t been ruined.

The bag was offered first. “There ain’t a hose in the world that’s gonna be able to save that suit.”

Rune: Where the hell was that accent from? he wondered. He looked from the hose to his precious suit to the bag with contempt.

"Did you bring me a shirt?"

Kelly: Kelly had to fight not to roll his eyes. Was this man really about to get precious about throwing his clothes away?

“You can borrow one after you shower.”

Rune: While one fought rolling his eyes the other was fighting a smile. Hello again, Lady Luck.

"Bedankt knapperd," he winked, stuffing his wallet into his shoes and stripping then and there what remained of his clothes, hesitating on his equally precious Calvin Klein boxers.

Those could wait.

Kelly: Kelly picked a spot above the stranger’s head and kept his eyes fixed there as he held out the towel, feeling distinctly like he’d just lost somehow.

He blamed Leslie Issott.

“Dry off before you step inside so you don’t drip all over the floor.”

Rune: "Aye aye, Captain." He had no name to give, so he couldn't be blamed. He'd make his way back around to dry off, otherwise that towel was useless.

Kelly: As soon as the towel changed hands, Kelly pushed the door open with his cane and pointed toward a corridor to the left of the kitchen.

“Bathroom is the first door on the right.”

Rune: A salute later, Rune made his way inside, as casual as he pleased. Wanting to take in his surroundings and anything outwardly unwelcoming.

Kelly: To say the surroundings were sparse was putting it generously.

There wasn’t much in the way of decor and the furniture had been chosen with an eye toward practicality rather than style, but the house was clean enough to pass a military inspection.

The only personal touches—if they could even be called that—were the grab bars around the bathtub in the bathroom.

Rune: Either he was ready to leave at a moment's notice, or hadn't the energy to try. Not at all colorful like his house in Curaçao. Not that he was ever there. The house had probably collected all the dust on the island.

He made his way to the bathroom and locked the door.

Kelly: With the click of the lock, Kelly finally felt like he was able to breathe out. Just what the hell had his life become in the last half hour?

First order of business.

He went into his bedroom and selected a plain black shirt he didn’t care if he ever got back and a pair of joggers. They were too big for his visitor but they had a drawstring. He could deal.

He grabbed a chair from the kitchen, set it outside the bathroom door, and put the clothes on it.

Second order of business.

{Text to Leslie} There’s a stranger in my shower and it’s your fault

Rune: Leslie stared at his phone for an entire sixty seconds of consternation.

{Text} What did I do?

Kelly: {Text} You got inside my head and made me be nice

Rune: {Text} Ok so you made a friend?

Kelly: {Text} Not exactly

{Text} Some guy fell through a portal in the tree in my backyard I didn’t know even existed

Rune: {Text} Since when did we have portals this close?!

Kelly: {Text} I don’t fucking know! But I’ll tell you what, it wasn’t there before

Rune: {Text} Sure it was a portal? Heard a loud thunderclap kinda noise?

Kelly: {Text} Man I don’t know, he was laying in my yard when I got out of the bath and said he fell through the tree

{Text} He was covered in umbra gloop, what else would it be if not a portal

Rune: Ohhhh. Oh. Leslie stared for another sixty seconds before calling Kelly's phone.

Kelly: “I only have a few minutes,” Kelly greeted in a low voice. “I don’t know how long he’s gonna be in the shower.”

Rune: "Kelly, I love you to death but why are - you don't think he's dangerous?"

Kelly: “He isn’t armed and if he was going to do something, he would’ve done it as soon as he saw my cane.”

Rune: Leslie wanted to protest the last remark but refrained.

"You said goop? Gloop. You're familiar with it?"

Kelly: "Familiar enough to know what it is and where it comes from."

Rune: Not a vampire, given the hour. Could have been anything else. What was he supposed to say?

"Never had a porter take me anywhere and wind up with gloop."

The word had put a smile in his voice.

"Glad you're safe, but the moment you're not, you know the song, ain't no mountain high enough. Have fun I guess." Something about those parting words hit his ear wrong. He rubbed at an itch on his chest.

Kelly: "If the tree wasn't a portal then he had to have created one right? Or fucking something, people don't just pop out of the Umbra and into people's yards." Kelly cast a glance toward the bathroom. Just what kind of power did the stranger in his house have?

"Have--Les, there's a rando in my house who's probably a mage! I want him out!"

Rune: Oh, he couldn't help the snort Kelly heard. Leslie squeezed at his nose and that helped a little. That was the response he was hoping for. This was still his Kelly.

"Mhm."

Kelly: Would Leslie be able to hear his frown? "What, you think this is funny? I should've left him outside to get pneumonia."

Rune: "That's not you. Wouldn't do that to me."

Kelly: "And you have the nerve to ask me what you did. This is your fault!"

Rune: "I didn't make you be nice!"

Kelly: "Yes you did! Your voice in my head told me to get him a towel and let him shower!"

Rune: "If you really thought he was dangerous you woulda covered my mouth!"

Kelly: "He was all pathetic and wet and you would've gotten him a goddamn towel! I wasn't thinking about danger, I thought he was just drunk."

Rune: "A drunk mage from the Umbra covered in gloop?"

Kelly: "He's not drunk, that was just the most plausible explanation at the time. Tell me how to get him out."

Rune: "How would you kick me out?"

Kelly: "He's not you, I wouldn't kick you out."

Rune: Leslie scratched vigorously at his chest and rubbed the back of his head, trying to think quickly. About to ask what had been said when the bathroom door creaked open. Brown eyes looking around and landing on the chair.

Kelly: Fuck, time was up.

"Gotta go, bye," he said in a hurried whisper, hanging up the phone. Now to switch back to text.

{Text} He finished showering

{Text} Tell me what to do

Rune: {Text} What has he said?

Rune had used most of his time washing his shoes and boxers. He would be damned walking around naked in a stranger's house. That's what this man still was. Names had to be exchanged at some point, but he didn't feel compelled to rush.

Shoes lined the edge of the tub. Boxers wrung and hung over the sink.

And an arm was reaching desperately for the clothes, fingers flailing before catching the sweatpants, slipping back between the gap.

Kelly: Now it was Kelly who felt something uncomfortable itch at his chest. In the moment he'd been able to dismiss what the stranger said because saving face was vital, but that didn't mean he didn't understand the implications of what he'd been told. He did.

And he hated that someone else did too.

{Text} He said he heard my scream in the Umbra

Rune: {Text} That's a whole thing I'm not familiar with. I just know the name.

Leslie bit his lip and leaned against his kitchen counter. Debated on telling Tristan, but his merman would have no answer, either.

{Text} Not in a menacing "I want more!" kinda way?

Kelly: {Text} It was the answer he gave when I asked him why he was in my yard

A far from satisfactory answer at that.

{Text} I don't know. But he's sure it was me and was curious enough about it to end up here

Rune: {Text} If he's telling the truth, it must mean something. I wouldn't kick someone out knowing something like that about me without knowing more. Aren't you curious?

This coming from the same witch that found a former angel vessel and invited him home for eggs and tea.

Kelly: Kelly sighed. It did mean something. It meant that no matter how much time had passed or what he did or where he went, god still fucking hated him and wouldn't ever stop reminding him.

{Text} I'm pissed is what I am

{Text} A stranger has no business knowing something about me that I wouldn't voluntarily choose to share

Rune: Ever the optimist, Leslie texted back with his own perspective.

{Text} Maybe he didn't want to know either and wants answers.

The bathroom door opened fully this time. Dark brown hair with black roots towel dried to chaos. Warm skin dry and bare from the waist up. A black and brown crucifix hung around his neck.

At least now he could walk out and grab the shirt. Had this been a friend's home he would have been just fine with his nudity, but not today.

Kelly: {Text} Well then he's gonna be disappointed because I have none to give

Kelly looked up and immediately looked back down at his phone, and there his eyes would remain until he was spoken to. Why the hell hadn't the man put on the shirt at the same time as the pants?

Rune: Since he wasn't looking at his guest, he wouldn't see him make himself at home on the couch. Knees brought to his chest with a tired sigh. Like a cat allowed in a stranger's home, one might think this was his domicile.

Kelly: He waited a moment longer to see if Leslie would reply. When he didn't, Kelly slipped his phone in his pocket and went to plant himself at the entrance to his living room, arms crossed.

What the hell should he do with this intruder?

"I let you shower and gave you something to wear. You indulged your curiosity. I think you know what comes next."

Rune: Let's subvert those expectations a bit and pat the other side of the couch.

"We... listen to the news and complain about how the world's gone to shit."

Kelly: Let's not and say we did.

"'We' don't do anything. I get back to my life and you go back to London or wherever it is you came from and we pretend none of this happened."

Rune: "I can't just pop back to London. That's not how it works."

Kelly: "We both know that's exactly how it works."

Kelly pulled out his phone again.

{Text} Les, can I have your porter's contact info?

Rune: "Captain Cane, I was sleepwalking. I'm tired. I'm fucking drained. You're the only thing that woke me up."

{Text} I can see if he's available but he doesn't like me giving him out like that.

He'd already gotten an earful when giving his information to Bo without his permission.

Kelly: "Not my problem. I didn't wake you up because I didn't scream. Feel free to go back to sleep anywhere that isn't here."

{Text} If he needs to be bribed I will pay him whatever he wants

Rune: {Text} Is he threatening you or something?

Rune just sighed. Planted his forehead on his knees. This man wasn't getting it. He really, really didn't want to talk about this. Understandable, but the last time he'd ignored an obvious sign, people had gotten hurt. He didn't know why he was here, and he didn't enjoy it either.

But he wasn't young and willfully blind.

He had an idea.

His head popped back up.

"Name's Rune, from Amsterdam. Yes, I am a mage." He tapped his good ear. "You get me out by talking to me. No, I don't bite. Not in the mood."

Kelly: Kelly took a deep breath and tried to summon some patience from somewhere. Anywhere.

"I have nothing to say to you, Rune from Amsterdam. I don't know you, I didn't tell you to come here, and I'm not playing this game. I have to go to work soon and if I have to call the cops to get you to leave, then that's what I'm gonna do."

Rune: "What are you afraid is gonna happen if we talk?" Too strong of a question out the gate, but it was his way. He held his hands out, arms resting in his knees, as though he could catch his question.

"Look, I'm... " he sighed, "I'm... an exorcist." He never liked the title, but it hadn't rubbed off in a century. "Just... tell me you're okay."

Kelly: It was the wrong think to ask. The wall that slammed between them at Rune's question was almost palpable.

A fucking exorcist? Was this guy serious or just grasping at straws to get him to talk?

"Then let me save you some time. I'm not possessed. I'm not yakking up pea soup and my head doesn't spin 360 degrees. I don't need an exorcism."

Rune: All this bait and no catch. He had better luck with Russian roulette than he had with this man. He tried not to make this a matter of pride, but it was tempting.

He had been awoken by fire. Could have been anything. A house fire. An explosion. He looked around the room while his host bricked his wall. A photograph. A plaque of honor. A uniform. Something.

The room was impeccably neat, but anything?

Kelly: There was nothing in the room save for the cleanliness of it that gave away anything about the man who owned it. There was a couch, a coffee table, a lamp, and a rather nice television, but no personal effects. No personality reflected anywhere that was currently visible to Rune.

There wasn’t even a plant.

In fact, the only indicators that his host had a personality were his carved cane and the small hoops in his ears.

Kelly sighed. This wasn’t working. “Look, if you don’t believe me you can press that cross you’re wearing to my forehead.”

Rune: Dark eyes returned to his host. Now that was an idea. Actually, what it was, was progress. He didn't have a framed photo to go by, but he did have that cane, and more confusion than he'd started with.

But he was intrigued.

Rune got to his feet and tugged at the crucifix buried deep in his shirt. Every stranger underestimated him. He didn't look at all as one would expect from an exorcist. Everyone wanted the stereotype.

But with a cross in his hand, it might as well have been a witch's wand. A gentle warmth would wash over Kelly's body as he neared. His movements slow, wanting to avoid having the cane broken over his spine.

His right hand laid flat over his host's heart. The cross to his forehead. Host might have expected nothing, but that warmth had become a comforting blanket over his being. Tension lessening in his muscles, as though experiencing the aftermath of a massage.

Kelly: Really? Kelly hadn’t been expecting him to actually do it but if that’s what it took to convince him and get him to leave then fine.

Kelly’s eyes flashed with warning when he was touched and if possible, he stood even straighter and stiffer than he had been already.

Rune was correct in thinking that his host hadn’t been expecting anything to happen, so when something did—benign though it was—it made him flinch. Not exactly what he wanted to have happen when he was trying to convince someone he wasn’t possessed but he couldn’t help it.

Shying away from comfort was second nature. It had taken years for him to be okay with it from Leslie and this man wasn’t Leslie.

Kelly leaned away.

“See? No sizzle, no burn mark. I’m not possessed. Satisfied?”

Rune: Heading towards 162 years of age, and the only benign creatures to ever flinch were those reliving trauma. He had tried to avoid touching his skin, but holding an object so close, it was bound to happen.

The cane had been an obvious sign but seemed a little on the nose. Now that he knew, he didn't know what to think. Standing there, watching dumbfounded as the wolf retreated.

He was healthy, and not healthy at all. Their connection hadn't been long enough to feel anything beyond the conspicuous, and it was fucking irritating.

The cross was squeezed in his fist. He didn't know how to approach this any other way than his own. He was a blunt object at best. This was a strike on his confidence, despite miniscule gains.

This discovery had awakened the insatiable. He needed some time to think.

"Okay."

Still holding his necklace, he turned his back on the Garou, retreating to the bathroom for his shoes, wallet, and underwear.

Kelly: Kelly was fully aware that in their world, a touch could betray just as much as a confession, if not more.

That wasn’t why he broke it. His knowledge of the Umbra had already given away that he wasn’t a mere mortal and Rune himself had confessed to being a mage. They were on a fairly even playing field.

What difference did it make if the man knew he was a wolf?

Kelly watched Rune with a frown. Okay? Had it worked? Had he actually managed to convince this man to leave him be?

It appeared that way but he wasn’t counting his chickens just yet.

Rune: Rune made his way into the kitchen, looking around for any sort of rag or towel to dry the inside of his shoes. A fruitless endeavor, seeing as he was about to walk back into the rain. What a shame this man was going to just allow that to happen. The world outside was howling, and as tempting as it was to play pitiful, he had said okay, and he was a man of his word.

Kelly: There was a dish towel hanging by the sink and a roll of paper towels on the counter, beside which sat Kelly’s forgotten water and a half-empty prescription bottle of Vicodin.

As for the man himself? Rather than follow his guest into the kitchen, he was rooting around in the coat closet for a stupid umbrella because he could still hear Leslie’s voice in his head.

Rune: Rune lowered to read the name. Considering the day he'd had, he could have this. Did he look like a Kelly? Maybe if he smiled.

His loafers were as dry as he could manage and still he winced from the cold.

Kelly: Kelly finally came into the kitchen, looking from Rune to the pill bottle without a single word.

He offered a clear umbrella handle first.

Rune: And Kelly was looked at with fresh eyes. Kelly Rose. And this Kelly didn't even have his full name.

He took the umbrella with a small bow of his head, and made an attempt at civility, just to see, offering his hand.

Kelly: It was safe to assume that the cat was already out of the bag. Rune probably knew what he was and now he also knew his name. There wasn’t much more that a handshake could give him that he didn’t already have.

Kelly took his hand and shook it.

Rune: The same handshake Leslie gave, pressing his index finger into his pulse. The mage shuddered, biting the inside of his cheek to keep from flinching.

Kelly: Kelly pulled his hand away as quickly as he could but it was too late. He noticed Rune’s shudder and it told him that, brief though the contact had been, it hadn’t been brief enough.

Something had been felt or seen that Kelly probably didn’t want to be felt or seen.

Rune: The same familiar gesture, but the old mage witnessed more than the young Verbena could. More than Rune had intended, and he had intended to pry. He needed something. Anything. Kelly had a stranger in his yard, but it was Rune who had traveled across an ocean, away from the comforting acrid haze of cigarettes and rotting wood, two-hundred-year-old playing cards and dirty carpets. Away from the sanctuary of a centuries-old hole in the wall, for this.

That scream began to replay. The sensation of torn muscles and charred skin.

This was why he drank. Was this why they both drank? Something to drown.

"Why are you afraid of being seen?"

Kelly: This man was determined to ask impossible questions, determined to open doors he had no right to open and that had been shut for a reason.

And for what? What exactly did he think he was going to change by doing it?

“Tell me where it’s written that I have to be,” he muttered, taking the pill bottle and tossing it back in its drawer. “I don’t owe anybody a damn thing.”

Rune: "You thought you did?" was all he could think to ask, taking a deep breath from his nostrils and out his mouth. Slow, so as not to draw attention. Probably didn't matter.

Kelly: “You asked a question and I answered it. There’s nothing that says I have to be ‘seen’ and I don’t owe anyone my indulgence while they try.”

Rune: "You don't have to do anything," he echoed. "It's so easy. You don't have to look in the mirror. You don't have to look back. You don't have to think about anything. It's so easy! You can just exist. Yeah... so easy," he said to himself, shuffling towards the door feeling more like Kelly than Rune.

Kelly: Sure, Kelly thought, shaking his head. Judge the cripple for trying to make it through the fuckin’ day.

“Facile, mon cul.” He snatched his water bottle from the counter and went into his bedroom to change for work. He trusted Rune could and would see himself out.

Rune: The hours rolled by, and the mage named Rune was nowhere to be found. Leslie text back well after his departure, explaining his porter's refusal to work with any changing breed. The paragraph of apology that followed was rushed and dripping with Leslie's tone.

Rune had walked and walked, managing a mile from Kelly's doorstep before squatting down to breathe. Feeling as though he'd been holding his breath with every step, lungs burning and skin hot.

The umbrella was planted against his back, forehead to knees as he collected himself. What a strange fucking afternoon. What a broken creature. What a waste of time.

The thoughts that had followed him out the door hadn't tapped his shoulder since his youth. A broken creature, but a powerful one. Power granted by torment was especially potent. Might as well have been a sorcerer.

Rune rose to his feet and continued. Not nearly strong enough to hunt for rifts or attempt one of his own. A hotel would have to suffice.

But he could only last so long, lying on the top covers, hands on his stomach, staring at a popcorn ceiling. At least he had somewhere to return. A pub would do just fine.

Kelly: Kelly couldn’t even find it in him to be annoyed at Leslie’s porter. Not now that there wasn’t a need for him anymore.

He reassured Leslie that everything was fine and that he didn’t have anything to apologize for. He told him that the stranger had left on his own but made sure to leave out what had transpired.

That was for Kelly to overthink as he donned his black button-down and dark jeans and made himself presentable.

Why are you afraid of being seen? Why the hell did it matter? And what did Rune from Amsterdam care anyway? It wasn’t like he could actually do anything. Talking about the past never changed or fixed anything, all it did was tear open wounds and let people indulge their curiosity about things that weren’t any of their business. He didn’t need some nosy pretty boy mage coming in and poking at him just because—

Kelly paused with one arm in his jacket. Pretty boy mage? Where the hell had that come from?

He shook his head and finished putting on his jacket. “Don’t go there, Rose,” he told himself, grabbing his keys.

Strictly speaking he still had some time before his shift, but he was hungry, and he remembered Bobby saying something about making clam chowder for the dinner special today.

He’d go in, have himself a good meal, and he wasn’t going to think about Rune or the look on his face when he’d pressed his cross to Kelly’s forehead one second fucking longer.

Rune: His name was becoming a mantra. Kelly Rose. Kelly Rose the werewolf. The werewolf with burns he could not heal. With a scream so sharp he was never the same.

He almost blasphemed, sighing through his nose as he entered Pete's Pub. Not at all like a dive in London, but it had its charms. Very... American. The music especially.

Still dressed in Calvin Klein loafers and Kelly's rags, his shoulders wide and confident, Rune took a seat at the bar.

If only he could have a cigarette. He'd sell a year of his life for a proper Elysium.

His new umbrella was hung from the bar, leaning forward on his elbows, only to plant his forehead on the cold wooden surface.

Pete: This time of year and this time of day, Pete’s pub was filled with mostly locals having dinner and a post-work drink. With the storm still raging outside, the fire roaring in the hearth, and the mix of blues-rock and conversation, the atmosphere was positively cozy.

And with Kelly Rose the werewolf tucked away in the pub’s kitchen having his dinner and talking to Bobby, it was Pete who approached this new forlorn-looking patron.

“You all right there?” he asked.

Rune: "Jet lag," sighed his customer.

Shit, how much money did he have left? He sat up and smiled, reaching carefully between his legs, opening his wallet and losing his hand beneath a portal the exact width of the leather. Blindly he felt around his dresser in Willemstad. He needed to remedy this before having to resort to gold coins.

The texture felt right. He pulled from the dresser, through the portal and - fuck. Why did he still have yen?!

A slew of Dutch curses left his lips as he lined his money on the table. Yen, euros, pesos - why pesos? When was he in Mexico? - zloty - thank you, Lord! Thank you for one last Benjamin Franklin.

"What'll this get me?"

Pete: Pete looked on in amusement as currency after currency appeared on the bar, much to his customer’s apparent dismay. He couldn’t place the language he was speaking but the sound of swearing was universal.

“You weren’t kidding about that jet lag,” he chuckled. “Looks like you’ve done a full lap around the planet.”

He smiled at the hundred-dollar bill. “In here? Just about everything. Pick your poison. If you’re hungry, I’ve got a menu you can look at. Special today is homemade clam chowder.”

Rune: The bartender's amusement was contagious, and for a moment he felt just a margin improved. Money was stacked alphabetically and stuffed back in his wallet - the actual wallet this time.

"Don't think my stomach can handle milk."

Rune perked. "You have genever?"

Pete: At least he looks a little less depressed, Pete thought. It was the gift of the small town bartender to put people at ease and he was very good at it.

“You’re in luck.” He turned to the shelves of bottles behind him and took the one he needed after a quick scan.

“Want it straight or you in the mood for a cocktail?”

Rune: "Just nectar in a glass. Stop me when we've reached Benjamin."

He was hungry, but right now he was also poor, and this wasn't the kind of pub with gambling, from the looks of it.

"Where can someone play poker around here?"

Pete: “You got it,” said Pete, pouring a healthy measure into a glass and placing it in front of his customer.

He gave him a curious look at that question. Not something he got asked every day.

“For pleasure or profit? If it’s the former, I can point you in the right direction. If it’s the latter, you’ll have better luck with pool.”

Rune: Rune stared for a moment, taking a little longer than usual to translate back to Dutch before raising his chin in understanding.

"Not snooker?"

Pete: “Not here, but there’s a place the next town over if pool’s not your thing. But…” Pete thought for a moment. “My bartender can probably give you better answers than I can.”

Rune: Next town over without a car. So pool it would be.

"Okay," he said into his glass.

Kelly/Pete: Pete looked toward the door that led to the back and smiled. “There he is. Hey, Kell, any places in town to play snooker?”

Kelly shook his head as he made his way over, distracted by the apron he was in the process of tying. “Nope, just pool and just at the Brig right now. Charlie’s table is still being re-felted and it’ll be another…few…weeks…”

As he finally looked up and saw who was sitting across from his boss, he could swear he heard god laughing at him.

“You cannot be fuckin’ serious…”

Rune: Rune was staring as well, lips still on his glass and unsure whether or not to be confused or pleased. What was it? Former or latter? Was this destiny his captain loved to go on about, or was this luck?

He would just ignore that last comment, looking at what he assumed was the owner, given his comment.

"Where's - you have a brig?"

Pete: “Uh…” Pete looked between the two of them, more than a little surprised at Kelly’s reaction to who Pete thought was some random tourist.

“No, um, The Brig is another bar here in Edenton. They have pool tables. Do ya’ll know each other?”

Rune: Well, Kelly's reaction had let it slip, might as well have fun before he finished his drink.

"One wild summer. Married in Vegas. Divorced the next day." He leaned his head toward Kelly, eyes playful. "He's a wild one."

But his smile was quick to fade. The Benjamin was placed on the table and slid across.

"Where's this Brig?" he said to just one, not even casting a glance.

Kelly/Pete: “Is that right,” Pete chuckled. Something weird was going on here. He couldn’t remember seeing Kelly like this with anyone in all the years he’d known him.

The wolf didn’t look hostile or anything, but he had the face of a man begging for the earth to swallow him whole.

“I’ll let Kelly tell you where it is while I get your change.” He took the money and disappeared over to the register before his bartender could protest. A perfectly reasonable thing to do but just for a second there he’d felt a June-like urge to meddle.

Telling himself to be professional, Kelly took a deep breath.

“Gimme your phone.”

Rune: "You've seen me half-naked," he said into his drink. "I don't have it." He could reach through his wallet or create a spontaneous portal, but the truth of the matter was he'd be feeling around blindly and with the potential of his London host finding a floating arm in the middle of the day. That wasn't going to happen.

Kelly: As if mocking him, a flash of that very image came unbidden into his mind before it was viciously chased away.

“Right.”

Kelly reached into his apron pocket for a pen and his notepad and began drawing Rune a map. He told himself it was just to get him out of here faster, but he was also going to the trouble of adding some landmarks and other useful places in town just in case.

In case of what? He refused to think about it.

“You’ll hear it before you see it,” said Kelly, ripping the page off the pad and offering it. Because the sleeves of his button-up were rolled up, more of the scarring on his hand and arm were visible, no longer hidden beneath the T-shirt he’d worn earlier.

At his chest, the couple of buttons he’d left undone revealed more of the same.

Rune: He must have been comfortable at this job, Rune thought, having finally looked up from his empty glass. It wasn't like him to avoid a glance, or even sound the retreat, but he knew staring would only summon his curiosity. He wanted to touch those scars. Abstract art they were.

And he wasn't ashamed of that thought.

"Lot of gambling?" he asked, taking the map between his index and middle finger, keeping his touch strictly to paper.

Kelly/Pete: “It’s very present, let’s just say that.” Most people went for the dancing but there were a good few who lived at the pool tables. “Just don’t piss off the bouncers and you’ll be fine. And if you know what’s good for you stay away from the preppy asshole and his friends, you’ll spot them right away.”

“They have a second home in one of the holding cells in the sheriff’s station,” Pete said as he returned, handing Rune his change. “They play dirty and when it doesn’t work they like to wait for people outside to gang up on them.”

Rune: "Preppy people? Sweaters over shoulders preppy?"

And why was Kelly telling him any of this? Made more sense coming from the other man. Seemed well-intentioned enough.

And looking at the map, he had quite a bit more walking to do. And once more curious why the extra details.

"How many miles?"

Kelly/Pete: “Couple miles.” Hell if Kelly knew why he was bothering to tell Rune all this. Wasn’t like a mage couldn’t take care of themselves. Maybe he was feeling a little guilty.

Or maybe he was just getting soft.

Pete nodded. “Yep. Polos, sweaters, boat shoes. The type that look like their life is just one long brunch.”

Rune: "That's half the men in Amsterdam," he smirked.

It was something to do. He was ready to turn what he had left into profit. It would suffice until he had the strength to riffle through all of his caches.

"Thanks for the drink. Time to walk."

Pete: “Walk?” Pete repeated, turning to look out the windows. The storm that had begun earlier that afternoon showed no signs of letting up. “In this? You don’t have a car?”

Rune: "I just dropped out of the sky." He shrugged. "Seen worse."

Kelly/Pete: Kelly threw Rune a pointed look as he pulled a beer for a customer who’d just approached the bar, as if telling him to mind his comments.

They were in public, after all.

“You’ll get sick if you go walking in this mess. I can give you a ride. It’ll be a lot quicker.”

Rune: Rune just tilted his head in return. The wilder the story the less he was taken seriously. Fine in most aspects of his life. Saved him a lot of trouble.

Unless a certain wolf gave him away with that grave look, he was in the clear.

What did he care, anyway? The question was becoming as much of a mantra as his name.

"You're a prince if you do."

Kelly/Pete: Pete shook his head. “Hardly. Just don’t want you to have to deal with a cold on top of the jet lag. Hold the fort for me?” he added to Kelly as he took off his apron.

“You got it.”

“Thanks. I’ll bring my car around. Gimme two shakes.” And with that, their buffer disappeared through the door behind the bar.

Rune: Rune was willing to let the silence stretch. Fingers traveled up his shirt - Kelly's shirt - feeling for his necklace, his crucifix just below his chest.

He didn't have to look directly at him to watch from his peripheral.

Kelly: In watching Kelly—and the people he interacted with by extension—it would become obvious very quickly which patrons were locals and which were tourists. The locals called Kelly by his name, asked for their regular orders knowing they were remembered, but otherwise didn’t really treat the bartender any particularly noteworthy way.

The tourists stared. They looked at Kelly’s facial scar instead of his eyes when they spoke to him and when they weren’t speaking to him, they stared at the scars on his arm, neck, and chest. It wasn’t uncommon for him to have to repeat things because they simply weren’t listening.

It got old real fast but fortunately for him, there weren’t too many tourists tonight. Some good came from the rain after all, even if it had also dumped a mage in his yard that he could feel looking at him.

Rune: One of the men staring Kelly down was being watched in return. Two fingers tapped at his cross as his lips thinned tight.

He could say something. Do something. He wanted to, and it hadn't crossed his mind to question reason.

He could stare. All he pleased. He wasn't staring in horror. He was admiring. It was his right.

A corner of Kelly's map was torn. His pen swiftly borrowed to sketch a little symbol.

Rune made his way over to the stranger, leaning over, he made a show of bowing.

"Sorry. Sorry. You look familiar. Do you know Marco?" Putting on his best Japanese accent, he played the role of confused tourist, and slipped the piece of paper into the stranger's pocket. The accent, the question, the bowing, all distractions, and no one, save Kelly, the wiser.

"So sorry, so sorry." Dumbass.

Kelly/Pete: Kelly’s brow furrowed ever so slightly as Rune put on his little song and dance with the tourist and slipped him something. Where had that accent come from? And why?

He watched from the corner of his eye just like Rune had done with him as the guy confusedly brushed the mage off and said he didn’t know any Marco, then moved away from the bar entirely in favor of a table.

Kelly was almost smiling to himself when Pete came through the front door and waved Rune over.

Rune: No more avoiding his gaze. Kelly was looked in the eyes, given a wink. "Good luck."

His map was gently folded. It was useless now but pocketed regardless. Just like admiring Kelly's scars, it was his, and his right.

And back into the rain, leaving his umbrella behind.

Peter's ride was given a whistle of approval before slipping in.

Kelly/Pete: The wink only made Kelly more curious about what Rune has done. So much so that for a second he even forgot to look annoyed at him.

But then Rune was going out the door and Kelly was distracted by a patron and the moment was gone.

“You like?” Pete said, beaming with pride as he gripped the steering wheel of his car. “It’s my pride and joy.”

Rune: "It's really nice!" His smile lingered, awkward, and then, "What is it?"

He hadn't bothered with a seat belt, but knew better than to raise his knee and rest his foot on the seat.

Pete: “Cadillac,” Pete chuckled as they got on their way, immediately glad he’d offered this man a ride. Rain was really coming down.

“So how long you been in town? Enjoying your stay so far?”

Rune: "Cadillac." The word just didn't fit his accent. Sat heavy on the base of his tongue.

Rune fought a smile. "Just a day. Had my clothes stolen."

Pete: "Stolen? Damn." Pete was silent for a moment, head tilting curiously after a beat or two. "That why you're wearing Kelly's clothes?"

Rune: "Hmm." He held the shirt again, to what was hidden underneath.

Kelly was about to have some entertainment. Not seven years of bad luck, but one horrific evening was going to unfold before him.

"You memorized his wardrobe?"

Pete: "You smell like him." Which, when he'd initially noticed, Pete had taken to mean that the two of them knew each other on a very personal level. He'd never seen Kelly with anyone but that didn't mean the man was a monk.

Rune: "I pity your nose."

Might as well see. He offered his hand, eyes on the road.

"Rune."

Pete: He laughed and reached over to shake Rune's hand. "Pete. That's just what happens when you spend a long time in proximity to someone."

Rune: Rune hummed again. Like with Kelly, his finger pressed into the driver's pulse. Natural age. Healthy. Not... Garou. A bear! That was a first.

He shouldn't say anything. Self-preservation demanded silence, but he wasn't concerned.

"A bear and a wolf walk into a bar..." he shook his head. "Are there no vampires in this place?"

Pete: If Rune had picked literally any other two animals, Pete would've thought nothing of it. He would've laughed it off and chalked it up to small talk. But it was just too specific a comment, especially once the vampires were brought into the fold.

Still, his smile remained easy and casual. He trusted that if this man was close to Kelly Rose--close enough to let him borrow his clothes--and meant any harm, then Kelly never would've let Pete give him a ride, much less be alone with him.

"Oh, Edenton's practically a storybook," he chuckled. "Everyone lives in harmony."

Rune: "Storybooks I read usually end with hunters." Some people just loved to tack that title to his collar, but it just wouldn't stick. He didn't care what Kelly was, or Pete, or the vampire down the street. He had only one rule: don't be an unhinged psychopath.

"You don't want to purge them?"

Pete: He shook his head. "Nothing like that, no. Everyone who lives here understands that it's best not to cause any trouble and keep to themselves. Edenton and its surroundings are an Elysium, you might say." For everyone and everything that lived within its borders.

Rune: Ah. He knew that word very well.

"Everything but the humans," he said, leaning against the car door and his forehead to the chilly window.

"No judgment," he sighed, suddenly feeling tired.

Pete: "It extends to them, too," Pete said thoughtfully, thinking of his youth and how very normal and safe he had felt growing up here. He knew now that back then there had already been vampires in his hometown but he'd been an adult before he realized it. Maybe it was inexperience or naivete, but he thought that was a sign that the Elysium was functioning as it should.

"Granted, people are gonna be people. Take the wannabe Heathers at the Brig for instance."

Rune: "You know this?" It was curious for a changing breed to know as much as this one. To sit cozy with a vampire and not feel compelled to rip the body in two.

"Heathers?"

Pete: Pete nodded. "I do."

Even though they were speaking relatively openly, just coming out and saying 'oh, I thought I was human for most of my life and a vampire and a Druid taught me the ways of the supernatural world' was a bit much to be sharing with someone he didn't know.

"The movie. Ever seen it?"

Rune: Rune had his doubts, but only because in all his years, it was difficult to fathom every recipient of a vampire's bite to be consenting. Then again he had no room to judge, given his proclivity for gambling. There were mortals walking around with shaved years because of him, and he felt no shred of remorse.

"I don't watch TV. Not interesting after Technicolor."

Pete: Technicolor? Just how old was the man sitting next to him?

“There’s a lot of great stuff that’s come out since then. Might be worth giving it a shot one day if you’re bored.”

Rune: He placed his hand on his chest. "Not to sound like an old man, but there are better things to do. Games, music, books, fucking."

Pete: Pete laughed. “You don’t sound like an old man. There’s no single thing that’s gonna be for everyone. As long as you’re enjoying yourself, who cares.”

Rune: "You're a hippie, aren't you?"

Pete: He laughed again and shook his head. “Not really, I just calmed down like we all do as we go through life.”

Rune: "Says the bear."

Rune bit his lip and sat up. There was a question on his tongue, but it could make or break his plans.

He decided to make a play with casual.

"How long's Kelly been here?"

Pete: “Hey, being a bear is a very peaceful existence.” At least it had been for him, minus the first couple months.

“Uh…around about three years now, I think. Give or take six months. Why do you ask?”

Rune: Just a noncommittal sound and a shrug. Better to stay vague in this instance. His chin in hand, he looked back out the window again.

"Are you taking the scenic route?" This ride felt so long. He'd blame the rain, or maybe this Pete was up to something.

Pete: “This whole town is one big scenic route.”

There was no stalling or anything underhanded afoot. Pete’s speed was in deference to the rain but even so, it was only another moment or two before the bass pumping out of the Brig would start to be felt and the building came into view.

“We’re here. This is The Brig.”

Rune: The map was referred to, making a mental note of where Kelly's house was and the distance to Wayside Inn. He could make a night of this place and ignore the rain, if he was determined.

"I owe you, Pete," he smiled, getting out of the car before he could refuse.

Pete: “Don’t worry about it,” Pete called after him. “Just watch out for the Heathers!”

The rain might have been slowing things down over at Pete’s pub, but it was the opposite at The Brig. The bar was as packed as usual with locals and tourists alike, drinking and dancing and shooting pool under the watchful eye of the bouncers.

Rune/Q: This wasn't the worst fashion Rune had ever endured, but he certainly missed his comfortable suit when he walked through the door. A few lingering faces were expected. This was a small town and his face was nothing familiar. The hair, the shoes, the sweats, he looked nothing short of homeless.

He hardly noticed the curly-haired bartender staring him down, looking at the bouncer behind him with a raised eager brow.

"He's pretty," Q mouthed, smiling across the room at his best friend.

Tane: The town may have been small and Rune's outfit may have been unusual, but this was an environment accustomed to the unusual and whatever attention he garnered would soon shift in favor of something else. No one ever looked twice at a place like The Brig.

At least, not the patrons. The employees were a different story.

Tane smiled back at Q and followed the newcomer with his gaze, giving his bartender a nod of agreement. He was pretty. Tane just hoped he wouldn't be one of the ones to cause trouble tonight.

The group at the pool tables was already forcing him away from Q and the bar just so he could keep an eye on them.

Rune/Q: Q flipped a bottle of vodka and set about making a dirty martini for a local. He could and would stare as he pleased, but only after orders. The job came first.

Rune argued with wants vs needs, standing at the end of the bar, watching a game of pool happening between a biker and what looked like a living breathing fisherman stereotype. He couldn't come off too eager, begging for a waged match.

So he forced himself to sit at the bar, counting what was left of his money. He needed a drink in his hand, at the very least.

Kelly/Tane: Tane didn't like the look of that biker one bit but so far all there had been nothing that required interference. Trouble was more likely to come from the Abercrombie crew at the next table if they kept knocking drinks back at the same pace they had been for the past half hour.

Wouldn't be the first time, Tane thought to himself, recalling the last time he'd had to haul them out. They hadn't gone quietly then and they wouldn't now, he was sure of it.

Those same boys were on Kelly's mind as he stared at the umbrella that had been hanging on the bar, though it wasn't them so much as someone who was now in proximity to them.

All that bellyaching about not wanting to freeze to death and the damn mage had forgotten the umbrella. If he got pneumonia he'd have no one to blame but himself.

So why the hell did Kelly keep thinking about taking it to him?

Rune: He was shit out of luck for a glass of Holland's best. The cheapest strongest drink would have to do. Smelled like rubbing alcohol and didn't taste much better, but it was something to have on hand as he approached the tall round table between the two groups. One of the Heathers, as they were not-so-affectionately called, seemed to have taken notice of his clash of fashion.

For now he would watch, sizing up east and west for the most favorable option. Eventually holding out fifty dollars, taunting who was ready to lose their money and their jacket to a tourist.

Kelly/Tane: Well, well, well. It looked like their pretty newcomer was going to join the crowd at the pool tables, which meant that Tane got to have a nice long look at him. It made a good consolation prize since he couldn’t be within flirting range of Q.

Whether there was going to be trouble was yet to be been, but the second money started being waved around, the potential for it went way up. Those Abercrombie boys were never ones to back down from a challenge and it was clear even at this distance that they’d already written off the pretty boy as an easy mark.

Moving it out of sight hadn’t helped.

Even though he couldn’t see it anymore, Kelly was still thinking about the stupid umbrella and about whether or not he should do anything with the stupid umbrella and about that damn mage by extension and it was all starting to annoy the daylights out of him.

When the annoyance reached a fever pitch, he pulled out his phone and sent a message to his dealer asking him to meet. He needed a top up.

Rune/Q: Q couldn't help but look. It was his way, his drive, and he enjoyed watching Tane work up his appetite. Their understanding of each other had spanned years. No conversation needed to be had; no hint of jealousy.

Nothing but luck. Rune agreed to a game with the Heathers, checking the table for roll-off before a lag shot against his opponent.

Card games were more his speed, but the Noble Game of Billiards had been a part of his life since childhood. Underneath a table was where he would often find his father after days of neglect.

Pocketing half the balls on his first break might have silenced the Heathers, but disallowing his opponent even one turn at a stripe was perhaps a bit too petty. He had been warned, and taking his money, thought it best to turn his attention to the laughing biker and his fisherman friend.

Kelly/Pete/Tane: Tane exhaled a laugh and shook his head, silently glad for the pretty boy. Although if looks could kill, those Abercrombie boys would be nailing his ass to the wall.

The biker and his buddy would probably be better sports and maybe more enjoyable company, but Tane doubted the others were going to take their defeat and walk away.

Oh well. That’s what he was for. He’d keep his eye on them and hope for the best.

It was half an hour before Tony got back to Kelly and it would be another hour on top of that before he’d be able to meet him.

And that was assuming Tony wasn’t late which he always fucking was. At least this time Kelly wasn’t desperate.

Near the appointed hour, Kelly took off his apron. “Got an errand to run. Shouldn’t be more than an hour.”

Pete nodded and gave him the go ahead. “Drive safe, it’s still pouring.”

“Yep.”

Kelly grabbed his jacket and the umbrella and headed out the back.

Rune: The Heathers had been about pocketing their money. The biker and fisherman were going to be much more enjoyable company, given their good-natured humor. Rather than fifty, Rune slammed down a quarter and earned another laugh.

Of course, he wouldn't call himself an exorcist. As far as anyone here was concerned, he was a professional gambler. The biker, Eagle, and his best friend Jerry didn't give two shits, and their conversation was much more stimulating.

Didn't stop the hard looks from the next table over, but it wasn't their money anymore, now was it?

Kelly: He was just going to meet his dealer. No other reason, no ulterior motive. He was halfway through his Vicodin and needed a refill, that was all.

That was what Kelly told himself the whole drive to the Brig. He was running an errand, not rushing off to give some mage he didn’t even know an umbrella, because that would be an insane thing to do and he was not an insane person. He was just being practical.

And a champion of denial like him could tell himself he believed that and almost manage to do it.

He didn’t look for Rune as he entered the Brig, instead making a beeline for the quietest side of the bar and immediately flagging down Q.

“Club soda when you get the chance.”

Rune/Q: Rune had every intention of allowing himself to lose a game or two. Though he hadn't walked in with a cue in hand, he doubted an Elysium as Peter had described harbored no other mage. There were some things you just didn't do around other mages. Gambling was one of them.

So far, he hadn't found an opening. Skill was to blame. Eight-ball was just a little too easy once the law of reflection was understood.

That was, until Rune heard a familiar voice, looking up as he took his shot, not even bothering to call out the pocket. Eagle threw his head back and cackled as the cue ball fell into a corner pocket.

"'Bout goddamn time!"

"Don't blaspheme," Rune sighed.

Q slid Kelly his drink. On the rocks without even asking. There was another interesting specimen. Reminded him of Tane. Apparently, he smiled to himself, he had a type.

"Thought you were at work tonight," Q greeted, looking back over at the opposite pool table.

Kelly: No one could appreciate a small town bartender like another small town bartender. There was a strange comfort in having someone just know what you wanted without having to ask.

Kelly gave Q a grateful nod and took a sip. “I am. That’s why I’m not ordering bourbon. Just came in to catch up with our mutual friend.” Who, as expected, was late.

There were too many competing scents in here to be able to distinguish any single one, so he’d have to rely on casual scans of the crowd unless he got lucky and was able to pick out a voice above the music.

Not that he wanted to, of course.

Rune/Q: At least... he thought he had heard - the man was working. Two miles away or whatever at some other pub. Between the crowd back and forth from the dance floor and the patrons sitting at the bar... must have been his bum ear playing tricks on him.

Q leaned forward on his forearms. He knew exactly how much time he had for a quick little chat.

"Thought you just got some." But his smile was devilish. "Want some pain relief, can give you that in the bathroom. Have you all better in five minutes."

Kelly: Q’s smile was met with a gently amused look. The suggestion wasn’t entirely unappealing.

“Unless a quickie in the bathroom is gonna stop the rain, I still need that refill. The cold doesn’t like me.” And it was only going to get worse as the autumn wore on and turned into winter.

Had he left? Where the hell—there. At the pool tables.

Kelly sighed into his glass.

Rune/Q: "Babe, you need, like, Utah or Arizona or some shit." He gave a quick pat to his cheek and turned back to clean a few glasses.

Skin-to-skin touch affected more than one this evening. That simple touch was enough to warm Q's skin, causing a sigh of his own. The look he gave Tane was one he had received before. Many times. His bartender was aching for stimulation.

Rune hadn't taken notice of the fact that he was being watched. Not only by Kelly, but the blond behind the trio. Jerry had, sitting at the table with his beer, waiting patiently for his turn against whomever won.

"What chu want, son?"

Rune looked up at Jerry and behind at - he didn't catch his name.

"You. Let's go again."

Rune looked around the bar, assessing the square footage before sighing. A lot of that going around tonight.

"With my arm behind my back? Let you go first? What about with my eyes closed?"

Kelly/Tane: In this whole town there were only a few people Kelly was okay being touched by, and Q was one of them.

“Mormons and the desert are depressing as fuck. I’d rather be in pain and perpetually waiting for Tony to learn how to read a clock.”

Tane had only looked away from the pool tables for a second to wink at Q and somehow in that split second, trouble had managed to brew from at least one party.

“Don’t take the bait,” he said under his breath as, unnoticed by him, Kelly Rose’s attention zeroed in on the same scene.

Rune: Rune wouldn't say he was at the end of his patience, but when his thoughts began to filter in his father's language, he knew he was reaching his limit. He reached for his drink on Jerry's table, only to be stopped by a pool cue. The sharp thwack cause several to jump.

"I want my money back. Let's go, goddammit."

What was it with Americans and this word?

"Don't fucking blaspheme."

Just two fingers, a quick, harsh flick to the tourist's scalp.

"Do somethin'."

Kelly/Tane: Oh hell.

Before Kelly could debate with himself about interfering, Tane was already doing it. The man could cross distances and cut through crowds with remarkable speed, especially when he was prepared.

And, since Kelly had seen him watching the tables, he knew he had been.

Tane grabbed the blond kid’s arm and shook his head. He was bigger and stronger and one flick was all the kid was going to be able to do.

“What did I tell you the last time about fucking around and finding out?” He pulled the kid away from the pretty boy. “You gonna cool it or you gonna get the hell out of my bar?”

Rune: "Don't fuckin' touch me!" Phones were coming out, as expected, and Rune put another foot of distance between himself and the ordeal.

"He's cool, man," said the only Heather without his phone at the ready.

"Hey, he can't touch me!"

Tane: “Get your pal under control or I’m tossing him out,” he said to the calmer of the Abercrombie boys, releasing the kid for now. Glenn had long ago given him permission to ban troublemakers at his own discretion and tonight could very well be the night to break that particular camel’s back.

But whether it was or not, he wasn’t going far. Maybe the silent threat of his presence would be enough deterrent.

Rune: Of course he wanted to stay. He had a bone to pick with the skinny Asian prick. He faked a toothy grin and threw a peace sign at his target. The last man to be given a peace sign, it didn't end well.

"Still want my money."

"Oh, shut up, kid," Eagle frowned.

Kelly/Tane: Tane didn’t like that taunting bullshit one bit but unless the kid tried to pull something else, there was nothing he could do. His hands were tied.

The singular silver lining was that the pretty boy knew how to show some restraint.

Kelly felt every bit as annoyed as Tane as he watched things settle at the pool tables. Hadn’t he told that damn mage not to go near the Heathers? Hell had he been thinking?

Before his mood really got a chance to simmer, Tony finally showed up.

“Do I need to buy you a watch?” Kelly muttered, shaking his head. “I told you I was working, I need to go back soon.”

“Stop riding my dick, I’m here aren’t I?”

And thus began the usual song and dance. They’d play their part, just two friends catching up over a drink while under the table, their exchange was made. There’d be no negotiating from Kelly over the amount he was given this time since this was really just an excuse, which Tony was grateful for.

Kelly was barely listening to his hushed lecture about having to be cautious. Most of his attention was at the pool tables. That preppy bastard was cooking something up, no doubt about it.

Rune: There was a part of Rune that wished the voice he had heard was real. But then again, he wondered why, and why he had followed that voice through the Umbra to begin with. First come first serve was usually the policy, but why? One incident some hundred years ago he could barely remember. Traditions made from nothing more than a single unique experience.

Rune looked at the money he had earned. He wanted to call this a night, but he wasn't yet finished. The stupid American succeeded in sucking the energy out of his eyes.

Rune turned back to the Heathers. What was one more game?

The only one with sense stepped forward, tried to smile.

"Look, man, he didn't mean nothin' by it."

Rune placed a quarter on their table. Another quarter, and another. Then every dollar in his possession.

"Match it. Let's go."

Kelly/Tane: “Goddammit,” Kelly hissed under his breath as Rune placed his money on the table. Hadn’t he told him to steer clear? Why hadn’t he fucking listened?

“What’s that?”

He turned back to Tony and shook his head. “Nothing, don’t worry about it. We square?”

The dealer nodded. “Yep. Pleasure doing business.”

“Great, thanks. Quin.” Kelly flagged Q down again and paid for his drink before he made his way closer to the pool tables, keeping a low profile.

Tane didn’t notice Kelly’s approach. He had the sheriff’s station’s number pulled up on his phone, finger on the metaphorical trigger in case this pool game ended the way he feared it would.

Rune/Q: Q didn't think he'd ever be accustomed to hearing that name. Back home he was Quintin. With his brother and the rest of the world, he was Q. That hybrid in-between had turned his legs to jelly the first time Kelly had ever said it. A warm feeling lingered in the pit of his stomach with its utterance ever since.

One of those clients he would miss when no longer required.

Rune pointed to the rack. By now he was bitter, petty, and tired. He would have the insufferable jackass choose his cue for him. Of course, the blond would choose the lightest stick. Out of his own spite, he insisted Rune break again, believing wholeheartedly lightning couldn't strike the same place twice.

Rune rubbed one of his many rings. A gold ring with an onyx center as he stared a hole into the green felt.

The mage chalked the tip of his cue, lowered, and lined his shot. The sharp snap of cue stick to cue ball succeeded by the pocket of every last stipe and solid. The cue ball slowly rolled back to position, and there Rune stood, staring the blond down as he leaned against the table.

"Your turn?"

Q kept busy, wiping down the length of the counter and watching for Tane's reaction, scoffing.

"Guy's about to get his ass whooped."

Kelly/Tane: Knowing something was caused by magic didn’t take away any of the wonder of seeing it, but Kelly couldn’t even feel it over the profound sense of foreboding.

If Rune knew what was good for him, he’d grab that money fast and get out. The lead Heather wasn’t going to take another humiliation well but he wasn’t going to get the chance to do more than yell if Kelly had anything to say about it.

He could do a lot more damage with his cane than some preppy blowhard could do with a pool cue.

Tane was in a similar boat as Kelly, looking absolutely floored as he pressed the call button on his phone and looked from the pretty boy to Q with an incredulous shake of his head.

Who the hell was this guy?

Rune: The look on everyone's faces was quite similar. Shock, confused, impressed, and furious. All save the blond. His cue stick was placed on the table. Hands up. He just laughed. Everyone was waiting for something and he knew they were. He was seeing red, but managed to fathom a plan in his drunk haze. There was no way this smuggle little asshole had taken his money twice.

"Kay." He finished his drink, raised his hands again, and headed for the door.

Rune remained perfectly still as he watched and waited. That wasn't the outcome he'd expected, and he hated being wrong.

His money was gathered and stuffed in his oversized sweats. At least now he could afford some decent clothes. Maybe a meal. His arms were feeling rather weak.

"Eagle, Jerry, been a pleasure."

Rune turned towards the door and stopped in his tracks.

Oh.

Kelly/Tane: No way that little punk had miraculously found some common sense and was actually walking away. Tane didn’t believe it for one fucking second.

He followed him to the door at a distance, ignoring the looks from the crowd as he spoke to the sheriff. It was better to be safe than sorry, especially when dealing with people that didn’t deserve the benefit of the doubt.

Yeah. Oh.

Kelly didn’t pause. He simply kept walking toward Rune and as soon as he reached him, he would place his hand on Rune’s shoulder with surprising gentleness with the intent to lead the mage toward the door.

Rune: Had it been Kelly's voice all along, or a vague whisper between minds? He stood there, staring, until finally moved by that massive scarred paw.

One question at a time.

"What are you doing here?"

Kelly: Good. Rune wasn’t resisting Kelly’s efforts to get them both out of the bar. That made things a lot easier.

People were quickly losing interest now the show was over, but a few curious souls still threw some looks their way as they made their exit. Like Tane, Kelly ignored them.

“Running an errand.” He nudged the door open with his shoulder and made for his truck.

Rune/Q: Q was certainly watching. The last he had expected was for Kelly to know some random foreign tourist. Evident in the look given to Tane. They could be confused together. He certainly was.

A figure stood in the shadows, leaning against the wall of The Brig with a cigarette between his lips. Of course the blond hadn't left, but he'd expected to catch this man alone. At the very least with one of those fat old fucks.

He knew Kelly Rose. He had enough sense to know he'd be fingered for his retaliation.

The broken-off tree branch he'd been holding was dropped.

Rune was oblivious to the sound, but something had dawned on him in almost the same instant.

"Where the fuck are we going?"

Kelly/Tane: Tane shrugged and shook his head. ‘What the fuck?’ he mouthed.

Kelly wasn’t.

Despite the rain, he managed to catch the soft thud of the branch hitting the ground and turned toward it, immediately spotting the human shape in the darkness.

The blond Heather was well-hidden from most, but not from Kelly. He pinned him there with a look of warning, eyes seeming to glint in the low light for just a moment before he turned away to unlock his truck.

He ignored Rune’s question until they were both inside the truck and the engine was rumbling to life.

“One thing,” he muttered. “I asked you to do one thing and you just couldn’t help it.”

Rune: The figure froze against the wall, pressing his back against the brick as his mind tried to make sense of what he had just witnessed. Delirium came into play long enough for Kelly to throw his truck into drive and put their backs to the bar.

So long as Rune remained in Edenton, this wasn't over. But it was over tonight.

"Tell me where it's written that I have to obey." Knees were brought to chest. "You have nothing to say to me, remember?"

Over a day of fasting, only alcohol in his system was taking its toll. His head lulled back against the seat, refusing to look in Kelly's direction.

"Got my money. Geld maakt mij gelukkig," he snorted.

Kelly: Kelly’s jaw twitched as Rune threw his words back in his face. He knew this had been a mistake. He should’ve ignored the stupid umbrella and left well enough alone. If the damn mage had forgotten it and got sick as a result, that was his problem. He was an adult.

Why the hell did Kelly even care?

“Where are you staying?” He would drive Rune there and wash his hands of this situation once and for all.

Rune: His eyes were closed. He tried to keep his hands at his knees, but they were simply too weak. Seeing Kelly this soon hadn't been his plan. There was no plan. He didn't know what he would have done differently. Might have made an effort to eat. Prevent this pathetic trembling.

"Water," he said, managing to maintain his smile.

"I was fine."

Kelly: That gave him zero helpful information. They were in a goddamn fishing village; everything was near the water.

But rather than play twenty questions, Kelly was just going to take them back to Pete’s. He needed to get back to work anyway.

“Fine, my ass. Your blood sugar’s in hell.”

Rune: "More genever helps." He motioned to the world outside of the truck, but forgot what he was going to say. Something about a wayside. Kelly was a nice distraction.

"My what?"

Kelly: “Your blood sugar. You’re shaking.” Bobby could make him something for dinner if he didn’t want clam chowder. Bobby was good like that.

Rune: "Don't let it go to your head." Another snort. His smile was quick to fade, staring out the window again.

"Wayside," he sighed.

Kelly: Ah, an actual answer. Well, it was too late. Kelly wasn’t turning around so Rune would just have to deal. Eating at Pete’s was cheaper anyway.

“Why would I do that? You’re the one who didn’t eat until your body started to complain.”

Rune: "I had no fucking money, Kelly."

Kelly: “Bullshit. Managed to pay for two drinks just fine.”

Rune: "Had a reason to drink."

Kelly: With no room to comment on that, Kelly chose to keep his mouth shut. It was for the best. Absolutely nothing he was saying was making any damn sense to him and he was starting to get sick of himself because of it.

The rest of the drive back to the pub would be made in silence. If Rune wanted to fuck off once they got there, Kelly wouldn’t stop him. If Rune chose to follow him inside, Kelly would lead him in through the back and to the kitchen.

Rune: The silence was uncomfortable. Downright unbearable and he couldn't think of anything worthwhile to say that wouldn't be met with another denial, another flinch. The same flinch that hadn't left his thoughts since leaving Kelly's house.

The mage sighed, felt for his wallet and sighed again. He should eat. He was here... for some reason. Why didn't Kelly take him to the inn? Why had he taken him at all, and why had he just complied without complaint?

Questions left at the door as he followed quietly into the kitchen.

Kelly/Bobby: “Oh hey,” Bobby greeted as Kelly stepped into the kitchen. He was at the counter putting potatoes through his fry cutter. “Where’d you go?”

“Errand,” said Kelly, gesturing behind him. “This is Rune.”

“Oh!” Bobby’s brow furrowed in confusion for a moment before giving Rune a smile and a nod. “Good to meet you, man.”

“He hasn’t eaten. Mind if he eats in here with you?”

The cook shook his head. “It’s cool. What’ll you have, Rune?”

Kelly excused himself.

Rune: Rune managed a smile, and as with Kelly and Peter, offered his hand to figure out what exactly he was talking to.

Sometimes he wished he hadn't memorized this rote.

"I'm a stray off the streets." In this case, the truth was adjacent. A glance was given to the wolf before dropping his gaze entirely.

"Potato sounds good."

Bobby: Unlike with Kelly and Pete, Rune would find nothing out of the ordinary. Bobby was an ordinary human, in both good health and good spirits.

“Well then you’re in luck! About to fry these up. What you want with them? Got some fish I can fry up for you, got clam chowder, got some leftover clams I can make into a po boy. What are you craving?”

Rune: Rune could have hugged the man had he been more familiar. Nothing against Kelly, but against him completely. A sweet oblivious human was rare in his circles, and to be treasured. Perhaps he was in the wrong for his manner of thinking; little different from a human petting an adorable animal in a pet store.

He wiped at his mouth at the mention of milk. God, please no.

"Salt, pepper, vinegar. How much?"

Bobby: “Ah, worry about that later. Just the fries though, you sure?” Bobby asked as he walked over to the sink and gave his hands a quick wash.

“Not to brag or anything but my po boy making talents are coveted by more than one in this town. Got people trying to steal me away from this place every day.” He nodded toward one of the stools at the counter. “Take a load off.”

Rune: "I'm," he scoffed, shook his head, "so hungry I'm not hungry." That had to make sense to someone who wasn't tortured for the knowledge, surely.

Kelly was right. He needed to eat. Had he gone back to the inn, he would have raided the mini fridge and passed out on the edge of the bed. This was arguably better. Arguably.

Bobby: Bobby nodded sagely. “Dude, I’ve been there. Feels like your stomach is digesting itself. Sucks. But I tell you what. I’m gonna make you these fries and start prep on this sandwich. Guarantee it’ll sound more appealing once your system gets going.”

Rune: "I can take it with me." If he remembered. That is, if he didn't sleepwalk away from his leftovers. Fuck... that might very well be the case.

Rune leaned against the counter, looking around the room as though his solution was somewhere in here. A sigh.

A sense of dread washed over him. Stomach and throat tight and hot. That wasn't the alcohol. An attempt was made to clear his throat.

"Talk to me." Shit. "Um... about this town. Where am I?" he tried to laugh the question off.

Bobby: “Perfect.” He dropped the potatoes in the fryer for their first round, chuckling at Rune’s question.

It wasn’t his first time hearing it by a long shot. Hell, he’d asked it himself more than once.

“You are in Edenton, North Carolina, my friend. It’s not much, just a fishing town, but we’ve got good food and nice beaches.”

Rune: "I saw some... Wayside." Seemed the prettiest place in town, but he was biased for anything nautical-themed.

He looked up, watching the door where Kelly had disappeared. Wondered if he could hear them.

"How long has he been here?"

Kelly/Bobby: “Oh, you staying at the Wayside? Good choice. It’s a real nice place, restaurant’s good too.”

Bobby looked up from the fryer. “Hm? Who?”

Pete’s wasn’t as packed as the Brig, but it was busy enough to keep Kelly occupied and as was his custom, he tuned out everything but the patrons in front of him.

Rune: He had that going for him and had no idea.

"The," knappe mannen beest, "big... fellow. Kelly."

Rune stared at the many bits of linen and paper in his wallet, pulling out the newest crisp twenty, looking to Bobby for confirmation.

Bobby: “Oh, gotcha. Kelly’s been working here about…three years-ish? Somewhere around there.”

Bobby shook his head at the money. “That’s way too much. Wait.” He gave Rune a curious look. “I thought you knew Kelly.”

Rune: So, Peter and Bobby had a consistent timeline. Helped hearing from more than one. Asking the same question again only served as an opening to ask something else.

"Word gets around fast," he scoffed.

Bobby: He shook his head. “It does in a town this size but that’s not why I mention it. Kelly isn’t really what you’d call the social type. He doesn’t have a lot of friends.”

Rune: "That answers if he's always this cheerful."

Rune stared off into space for a moment. The twenty was placed on the counter despite Bobby's protest. He was paying for information. Cheaply.

"Goes hand-in-hand."

Bobby: Bobby chuckled. Rune hadn’t really answered his question but it was fair to assume there was some connection between him and Kelly. Otherwise Kelly wouldn’t have brought him here.

“Pretty much, yeah. He’s prickly but don’t let that fool you. He’s a good guy.”

Rune: He had him hose down in the rain. Brought him into his house. Took care of his clothes. Allowed him a shower. Indulged his persistence. Followed him from one bar to another just to bring him back.

Saying it like that, saying it all together, he was... nice.

Still a prick.

He was staring off into space again.

"Tin man has a heart. Just needs some oil."

But to change the subject, "Smells good."

Bobby: “Believe it or not, what you’re seeing is the Tin Man already oiled. He used to be even pricklier. Downright surly even.”

Bobby beamed with pride as he seasoned the fries and poured them into a basket for Rune. “Damn right it does. Best in town. Eat up.”

Rune: English wasn't his first language. Not even his third, but a few seconds of buffering and Rune smiled, nodding his gratitude for something to eat. The fries could have been absolute trash and he would have moaned.

But what luck, they were perfect.

"What fixed the Tin Man?"

Bobby: “Same thing that fixes everything. Time.” With fries done, Bobby started preparing the clams for Rune’s sandwich.

“Wouldn’t really say he’s fixed though. People aren’t leaky pipes, no one ever gets fixed. He’s just less prickly and speaks in complete sentences now.”

Rune: "I thought therapy and sex fixed everything."

This man, this mortal, he was special, wasn't he? He was... wholesome. Must be the small town mentality.

"Mm."

Bobby: Bobby snorted. “Yeah, those help, too. Doubt someone like Kelly would ever go to therapy though. Doesn’t seem like his thing.”

Rune: "Someone with the same experiences will always be better." But that was just his opinion.

Bobby: “Probably true for a lot of people.” But Kelly? Who could tell, honestly. Man was an enigma and about as forthcoming as a clam.

“Anything you don’t like on your sandwich?”

Rune: "Milk," he snorted. Another glance at the door. This was probably a lost cause. He should head back to the inn and fall asleep with his head over the tub. Maybe a bottle of something strong. He'd certainly earned it.

Bobby: “No milk, copy that,” Bobby chuckled. “I won’t put milk on this. How you feel about mayo and mustard?”

He gave Rune a curious look. Why’d he keep looking at the door? Was he waiting for Kelly to come back?

“Missing someone?”

Rune: "Hmm?" Annoyingly perceptive. Wait, no. He was just thinking. He wasn't missing anything. Or anyone.

"Just mayo." He pointed to a nearby lemon. "And that. You don't have Joppiesaus?"

Bobby: “Dude, I gotta be real, I have no idea what that is.”

But mayo? That he could work with, as well as some lemon juice on the clams as soon as he got them out of the fryer and started to put the sandwich together.

Rune: Bobby was just given an exasperated sigh. Not his fault, but didn't make the cultural differences any less frustrating when it hadn't been his idea.

"Thanks."

Rune crossed the room to the back door to assess the rain.

Kelly/Bobby: The rain had yet to let up, just as Kelly had feared. Calling Tony had been an excuse but he was starting to feel very glad he had as the painkillers he’d taken earlier began wearing off.

When he went to go grab a couple more, he noticed the umbrella still with the rest of his things and realized he hadn’t given it back to Rune like he’d intended. Was the mage even still here? Had to be. No way Bobby was letting him leave without a meal.

Sighing, Kelly entered the kitchen just as the cook was wrapping a sandwich.

“Oh hey,” Bobby greeted.

Rune: Sonofabitch, why had he left the umbrella? Because he thought the rain wouldn't last this long. Just... that. It wasn't his. Maybe hoping Kelly would do exactly what he did.

That was saying too much. That was thinking too much.

But why, of all of the voices in the Wasteland, had he first heard the sound of someone still alive.

Rune was off in his own little world, staring out the door when Kelly returned.

Kelly/Bobby: “Hey,” said Kelly, watching Rune’s back for a moment before crossing to the counter and placing the umbrella on one of the stools without a word.

“There any Gatorade in the fridge?”

Bobby nodded. “Yep and to answer your next question, I did get blue ones. Want a sandwich?”

“Maybe on my break.”

Rune: It was the sound of the umbrella that stole Rune's attention, standing straighter with a soft flinch, looking from the umbrella to its owner.

"What's blue supposed to taste like?"

Kelly/Bobby: Bobby just smiled and shook his head. “They didn’t even bother coming up with a flavor to put on the label. It’s just called ‘cool blue’.”

Whatever it was, it appealed to Kelly. He grabbed a couple of pills from his pocket and downed them.

Rune: "This is where I insert an "Oh, America" joke."

Bobby: “And you’d be right,” Bobby laughed. “We love our artificially colored and flavored beverages. They hit the spot.”

Rune: Rune was staring at Kelly, at where he'd placed his pills, and back to the rain.

"Thanks for the sandwich."

Kelly/Bobby: Kelly, meanwhile, was focusing very intently on the drink in his hand. He didn’t want to catch Rune’s eye lest either he or the umbrella be questioned.

And although the pills had come from Kelly’s pocket, neither he nor Bobby seemed to think very much of it. Casually taking pills in the kitchen seemed rather a common occurrence.

Bobby nodded. “You’re welcome, man. Guarantee you’ll be back for more after trying it.”

Rune: "We'll see."

He looked at the umbrella and back to its owner. Took his wrapped sandwich and tucked under his arm.

The umbrella was taken with some reluctance, unwilling to open indoors. For the last time, he looked at Kelly, wanted to say something... but couldn't imagine anything profound with an audience.

"Goodnight."

Kelly: Only when Rune made to leave did Kelly finally look at him again. The lack of privacy prevented them from speaking openly but would they even if they could?

He didn’t know what to say or if he should say anything at all. A part of him almost resented thinking about that to begin with. He’d done enough, hadn’t he? Rune wasn’t being tossed out with nothing and besides, he could take care of himself.

So why did Kelly feel oddly responsible for him? Just because Rune happened to appear in his yard? That didn’t mean anything.

It didn’t, Kelly repeated in his head as he nodded.

“Goodnight,” he said quietly.

#From the Wastes Into the Rain #nihiladditaenihilperdidi #rune #kellygeorgerose #petegraham #qtraxler #tanelukela

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