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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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A Road to Somewhere

Life was life, Steve thought to himself as he huffed to clear the powder off his face. There were good and bad turns to be sure, and there were also just extraordinarily rude people. That was thought with some malice looking over his shoulder for the person responsible for getting him to drop face first into the musk root powder of the merchant stall he’d been browsing. It wasn’t dangerous stuff by any means but it was stomach turningly potent. Steve could feel his stomach rolling on him already.

The man who’d bumped into him hadn’t so much as glanced after the fact. Instead he was leaning into some poor girl’s way and looking half-crazed with how wide he was smiling. He had a long red cloak attached to one shoulder piece that had once had a crest engraved. But the face of the engraving had been scratched and pitted away to be unrecognizable now. His hair was dark and short, hint of curl at the ends against his neck. Thin nose, slightly wide mouth (or the smile distorted it), and blue eyes. Not to mention the air of someone completely oblivious to the trouble they caused and never being held accountable for it.

Or perhaps Steve was so caught in the pretentious air that had to go hand in hand with a golden suit of armor.

Unsurprisingly the girl slipped away leaving the man behind with a forlorn sigh.

“You might try a little exercise in observation.” Steve heard himself grouse in a tone that Bucky and Sam so happily deemed his grumpy, old guy voice. But he was hardly old, not by the standards of any magic-kin. A paltry century under his belt was nothing but time to loose milk teeth in a fair few circles. Tall and terribly thin he didn’t cut an imposing figure in his worn robes. The edges of his sleeves beginning to go threadbare but comfortable as a second skin.

For a beat the man stared at him confused.

“She was interested from the beginning.”

The man looked in the general direction the girl had gone then back to Steve. “While I’d like to say I’m not that dense, it wasn’t about anything like that.” Though he did frown some looking off away into the crowd of the market once more.

“Yeah, right.” Steve’s tone was painfully flat while his eyes drifted back to the stalls for ingredients he needed. He still hd work to do rude people or not. “Pay more attention or you’ll get the wrong person angry around here.” Steve waved a hand around to mean any of the various spell casters or able apothecaries of less than amiable repute.

“Yeah...know that.”

It was the way the man had said it that got Steve to look up again - as if he knew first hand. It wasn’t a stretch to see the man landing himself into trouble but the kind that set his shoulders to droop and his expression to grow somber weren’t quite in line with Steve’s expectations. An jilted lover, seemed more likely.

“You might also apologize when you bump into people.” It was more a change in topic than anything else. Steve hardly expected an apology.

The low expression turned to something more bemused. “Huh?”

Resisting the impulse to roll his eyes Steve pointed at himself. “You bumped into me.” Not that he was hurt, in body or spirit, but he was a little miffed about it. His temper always had been short-fused.

“I did?” The man seemed to be uncertain one way or the other. “When?”

“Just now when you went by to harass that poor girl. Was by the stall.”

“I wasn’t harassing her.” Was the quick defense but there was a dawning moment on his face when he seemed to realize. “I hit you? I thought I just tapped against one of the bushels on display.” And the stranger was so earnestly surprised about it Steve found himself believing him.

Steve eyed him a moment. “Well?”

Cringing a bit the man shook off his confusion, and the preoccupied air about him, to look contrite. “I am sorry I didn’t realize or I’d have done it before, I swear.” He held his hands up in front of himself like that did much good against anyone who could toss fireballs on a spiteful word.

Just like that Steve found his ire cooling rapidly. He’d thrown it a little out of proportion. Men like this stranger often hadn’t seen reason to apologize for far worse things and he might have seen them in this one.

But before Steve could admit to his own fault in the situation the stranger perked up.

“You’re a wizard too?”

Caught off guard Steve nodded to the question. Even more startled when the stranger took the two wide strides up to him and classed his hands between his own. The way the man was looking down at him was so hopeful and relieved Steve wondered how that girl had gotten away unscathed.

“Please help me.”

“..help you?” Steve asked lamely. He was still a little caught on the hand-holding business which seemed very unnecessary. Though the man was wearing gloves it seemed and he wasn’t broaching every rule of ethics when meeting a strange magic-abled person.

One of the ten cardinal rule being no physical contact with an unknown magical entity upon danger of threat, dismemberment, or death. But most concisely known as - look but don’t touch. Skin-to-skin (on fur, paw, claw, ect.) was the worst of this offense so the gloves spared the man a few points but not nearly enough.

“Please?” The man tried again some of that sad desperation reaching to his face again. It was plain that he was very much pleading. Might have dropped to his knees if Steve demanded it, not that he would.

But one of the cardinal rules of being magically abled involved not agreeing to anything until you knew the finer details. Breach of contract could be painful to work out and Steve had seen a few of those messes.

Steve pulled his hands free and took a step back to get himself some distance. Desperate was never a good look on a customer. His mother had been in the healing arts and Steve had seen the face of lunacy from denial and desperation before. He’d learned to be wary of anyone too willing to pay any price for a solution or too inclined to believe magic could remedy anything. He’d seen less of it himself but Steve had taken on far less prestigious work than his mother had. His jobs were small and generally simple. He took on things others didn’t want to due and didn’t flinch away from hard work.

“Look you need to understand how this trade works if you need help that badly...”

“Tony.” The stranger, or Tony it turned out, provided as Steve’s pause. It was a common name after the birth of the crowned prince, a tiding of good luck or some such.

“You need to be realistic and stop harassing anyone who happens to practice magic around here. You’ll get yourself barred from any service that way and land yourself in a worse position. You should try one of the reputable potion houses or the upper-crust apothecaries toward the trading ports. You’ll have better luck there than even here in the slums of the capital.” It was all factual. Steve knew the rates of serious cases in areas like theirs.

Tony’s expression fell slowly once more. His hands hanging at his sides and his brow creased. “I’ve tried that already. The good ones and they can’t help me.”

That meant one of two things - Tony was asking for something that was impossible or asking for something they could not do for him. There were rules and regulations in place for a multitude of reasons, but there were tenets of magic that could not be disobeyed without nature demanding her own recourse.

“No one here is going to be able to help you.” The chance a slim Steve was wrong about this. One had better chances of opening a unicorn farm, something that had never panned out for anyone in history.

Somehow that didn’t seem to deter Tony. Instead where he’d looked crestfallen before he seemed to have regained his good humor. There was an inkling of a smile, though it was still tinged with sadness. “I was told I could find what I needed here.”

Or option three - Tony was stark raving mad.

“Who told you that?” Steve asked with all the humoring in his tone to someone talking to a child or someone extraordinarily dull-witted.

The tone seemed to offer offense because Tony’s wan smile became a far more pronounced frown. He drew up to his full height, making Steve only just then aware he’d been leaning toward him before, to regain some of his dignity. “I trust them. They wouldn’t have sent me here if they didn’t believe what they told me. He’s not a bad guy even if he doesn’t have a fun bone in his body.”

Why he’d asked Steve wasn’t sure, his mind was made up already.

“Good luck with that.” And he was on his way to go, away from this madness before he became any more involved than he already was.

#unsentwrites #stevetony #superhusbands #fantasy magic au #a road to somewhere au #ravenisthegem #you are to blame for this one

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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When you start writing a fantasy magic SteveTony no one asked for because someone reblogged random au ideas @ravenisthegem

#for real it happened in my head #so bless you all you get drunk writing

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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My therapist and I decided that from now on, when I’m thinking something negative about myself, I’m going to imagine that Donald Trump is saying it, because it’s really easy for me to just tell him to fuck off.

Example:

Trump: “Your thighs are fat.” Me: “Fuck you and your fucking wall.”

I think we’re onto something here.

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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Four Horsemen of the Apocalypse

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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me, the motherfucker with over 50 abandoned works in progress: i have another idea

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

Conversation

me: *knows I have anxiety and depression*

me: *knows that mental illnesses make me feel isolated and paranoid*

me: *knows that my mind is actively playing trick on me*

friend: *doesn't answer immediately*

me: okay that's it they hate me it's not mental illness this time they really hate me they can't stand me

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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To Defy II

The dark passage was claustrophobically narrow compared to the open view of the lands Eggsy had on the bridge. Only the light from behind offering any means to see ahead. Galahad moved on steadily unbothered by the darkness that seemed to engulf them all. It unsettled something, just barely, within Eggsy who hadn’t felt much of anything in days since Harry’s death. A wrongness that weighed his stomach down and shivered over his skin. But there was no turning back, os Eggsy only clutched at the weight in his lap to ground himself. Even in death somehow Harry was able to act as a pillar of guidance to him. It was enough to remind him why he had come to such a place.

Eggsy closed his eyes against the darkness as they went further and the little light filtering behind them vanished. Everything he had known was behind him now. The world, the people, and the life he had known were in the past. Now all Eggsy truly had was Harry in this strange, new place.

He’d hesitated the night before when he’d stolen away. Looking at the sleeping face of his mother and Daisy when he’d bid them goodbye. Wondering if he shouldn’t have been tethered to his life rather than a dead man. He’d hesitated before taking away the enchanted sword resting across the burial shawl at the moment as well. Knowing he’d be taking something Kingsman had guarded for a great many years from their hold. It was an action tantamount to betrayal to the organization that was so riddled with cracks it might be its undoing. Eggsy had felt guilt in his selfishness but it had not been enough to stop him. Even now thinking how Roxy or Merlin would take his theft; how his mother might have to accept the loss of her son and the last link she truly had to his father in the world.

But a life ahead of him without Harry had been too suffocating a possibility. Each moment he’d thought he’d grounded himself into accepting moving forward Eggsy would falter. Harry had created in him a weakness Eggsy had never had before his appearance into his life. it was a weakness Eggsy hated but longer for in equal parts. A weakness that made him desperate.

The darkness around them brightened slowly. Eggsy saw brightness behind his closed eyelids and opened his eyes to greet it.

While the light reached down the narrow corridor to them it was there, a brilliant point in the distance. Keeping up their pace Eggsy could make out color once more slowly. Could see the way the stone around him was indeed worn smooth from time. Even the slight bob of a stray weed as they disturbed the air in their some procession.

It looked something like an antechamber they Galahad stepped out into. But even the antechamber made the passage they had come through look minuscule by comparison. At the center was a filled pool, that Eggsy might have assumed was a well were it not filled to the brim with water. It was perhaps a cistern instead, there was an opening up above in that went too high for him to make out entirely. But the water was still and dark.

Everything was made of the same stone that all looked just as worn as the passage. Within there were less weeds or small flowered flora to be found, but by openings that let in the sunlight Eggsy could make out the dark contrast of them against the brightness.

Leading out from the antechamber was what looked like the heart of the castle. Fitted to the image Eggsy had been granted in his slow trot across the bridge. Eggsy had felt insignificant many instances in his life and they all amounted to how he felt in this place. Like little more than a grain of sand as Galahad went further into the open space of the main body of the castle. Straight ahead were a set of steps that left up to an alter, all likewise stone. Tall, narrow high arched windows and then a great opening facing toward the mountains that Eggsy had barely been able to make out before. The space was so bright after the tunnel it made Eggsy squint against the light until his eyes had a moment to adjust. Galahad pawed a bit more with his steps.

Trying to avoid looking directly into the bright light ahead Eggsy found himself turning his head. When he did he caught the statues of creatures he’d never imagined lined the walls on each side. They were blocky and angular in appearance making them somewhat crude but they were over twice the size of Eggsy himself in height easily. Like the doors that had led to the small passage they looked impossible to move. Even in the brilliance of the room they were harsh somehow.

But onwards Eggsy encourage Galahad to go.

Shy of the steps leading up to the alter Eggsy stopped the stallion. Galahad offered no protest and halted. Carefully Eggsy shoved the sword back into the pack. Then he adjusted his hold of Harry bound in his shawl and slid them both off the saddle. His feet landed apart for a wide stance that smarted at his knees some but kept him from toppling over.

Better adjusted to the light Eggsy carried Harry up the steps. There was more detail to the whole room than his initial sight had led him to believe. Some of the stone was carved in a manner that Eggsy was unfamiliar with. But it mattered little to him.

He almost hesitated to put Harry down. Even if the weight of him was beginning to make his arms protest.

Carefully Eggsy laid Harry out to lie flat before he tugged at the ties atop the burial shawl wrapped around him. They came unwound with the right pull and twist and the fabric parted. The flap of it was strangely loud and reverberated against the stone walls and floor.

Lying in the sun, looking too pale and cold to the touch, was Harry. Still the gray at his temple and his face swept clean of emotion. The light did strange things thought and Eggsy thought if Harry had been paler by nature he’d have only appeared to be sleeping. He glowed in the sunlight, or shone perhaps. A strange, silent figure that seemed to suit the alter on which he now laid. Eggsy looked down at him and laid a hand over Harry’s arm. He knew how cold he was now but he couldn’t help the urge to seek him out still.

Galahad let out a sharp whine and a series of stomps startling Eggsy from his morose train of thought.

When he turned to look Eggsy immediately saw the cause of the horse’s sudden fright. Impossibly from the very cracks of the stone rose dark, shadowy thin limbed wraiths. They only had singular points of brightness that were where a man’s eyes should have been. They shivered and wavered in place, not looking so solid as anything mortal might. They filled Eggsy with a strange kind of fear that even his grief could not fully suppress.

Rather than remain still Eggsy rushed down the stone steps to Galahad, taking them a few at a time. He caught the horses’s bridle to stop him from fleeing or rearing up. But rather than out of compassion to have done as much for the steed he went for the saddle bag and pulled the sword he had stolen free. Taking a few steps away from Galahad should the horse rear or kick Eggsy unbound the hilt from the scabbard. With a sure tug after that Eggsy threw the scabbard aside and looked ar the now half dozen and more creatures shakily coming his way.

Fear still a cold, sick feeling in his throat and stomach Eggsy watched them not sure what earthly thing they could be. But his grief, his outrage, and his desperation rose to a boiling point. With a hoarse wordless shout Eggsy swung the blade clean through one of the shadow beasts. It dissipated immediately into nothing.

The rest of the creatures came to a halt and didn’t approach further.

Eggsy held his ground, surprised at how strangely out of breath he felt. Tension shaking under his skin and taking deep lungfuls of air as he stood, sword clutched too tightly in one hand to his side. He had been ready to beat away the group of them but they came no closer and part of Eggsy wished they would. He still had so much anger buried in his over Harry’s death and King’s death had not quenched it. He felt no more man than these creatures looked. Nothing like the knight he had been in training to become, but a beast.

Galahad beside him kept steady but his breathing was distressed.

“You come better prepared than the last.”

The voice from above nearly startled Eggsy into dropping the blade. His fingers tightened until it bit into his hand painfully. The voice had been booming in the quiet, from where the ceiling looked to be. The words making no sense to him.

Turning his eyes upwards to the ceiling Eggsy found a dark recess that reminded him of the pool in the antechamber. It was darker than even the corridor had seemed leading to the castle. A darkness that was more than the absence of light, but somehow almost seemed animated.

“You’re the god they talk about in this place?” Eggsy heard himself ask.

The shadowy figures stood still as they were able, flickering as they did like a candle’s flame did. But when the voice spoke again they dissipated like smoke but with no trace.

“I have been called many things. What do you come here for mortal?”

Alone once more Eggsy looked over to the alter. “There’s a way to bring the dead back to life here, isn’t there?”

There was a long pause, long enough that Eggsy worried before they spoke again.

“Ground mortals don’t tread. Your kind do not deal with the ways of the dead.” There was a hint of something besides the distance Eggsy had heard in the voice before. Something darker, perhaps anger or disdain. “There will be a price.”

His eyes didn’t leave the still form on the alter.

“That’s fine.”

There was another pause, this one longer than the last. But no shadow creatures appeared. The burial shawl only fluttered in a breeze that came through the great many windows by the alter.

“Very well.” The voice said, almost gently. “You must destroy the idols to fulfill your request. Don’t waste time trying to dismantle them with your bare hands they are not ordinary stone. If you wish to revive that man you must find within this land the colossi they represent. Kill the colossi and they shall live again.”

Eggsy didn’t quite know where to begin. many questions came to mind but the words were so formless in his head. His heart was beating hard in his chest and he could only stare at Harry. This had been a fool’s errand one he hadn’t thought would even be possible. This was more of a chance than he had ever anticipated.

Eggsy climbed the steps to the alter. He took Harry’s hand in his own.

“How can I find them?”

“Raise the sword to the light and it will point the way.” Again the voice, feminine but not at some instances, seemed to gentle beyond the sternness that seemed common to it.

Eggsy nodded, swallowing around a sudden tightness in his throat. He laid Harry’s hand back down gently as if he could have hurt him otherwise.

“Thank you.” Eggsy heard himself whisper as he pried himself away to take up the saddle on Galahad’s back once more. He stopped long enough to collect the scabbard to sheathe the blade. From there Eggsy tied it to his belt this time instead of the saddle.

He had his leg over Galahad and was settling into the saddle when the voice piped up again.

“Good luck, mortal.”

Rather than reply Eggsy merely nodded and urged Galahad along. There was a set of steps that led past the alter and outside to more stairs that led downwards to the vast open plains Eggsy had seen from above on the bridge. Eggsy did look to the alter as they went past offering silent promises to return, to succeed before he emerged into the open sunlight.

#unsentwrites #shadow of the colossus au #hartwin

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unsentpromises-blog · 8 years

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To Defy

Galahad shifted nervously on his first few steps down the length of the ancient, long unused stonework bridge that led into the forbidden lands. Eggsy only had to give the stallion a little urging to set a steady pace. Small weeds easily bending beneath the weight of the the horse and its baggage. A steady clop of hooves the only sound above the sound of wind moving through the large open arches of the bridge.

But the bridge afforded a look at the forbidden landscape. Distant dark mountains loomed to the west, with a deep, thin chasm leading up to them it appeared. Great stretches of open, untouched fields lay directly below the bridge itself that went on further than most towns did back home. Some of the grassy land seemed to give way to sand or rock as the terrain changed and Eggsy thought there might have been a shine from a body of water far, far off. Truthfully he could only mostly see fields even from the impressive height of hundreds of meters above the plains themselves.

So much land and not a single creature upon it. It should be strange if the land had been long untouched by humans. No deer grazing or even the smallest of song birds flitting through the sky. There was no sound beyond Galahad’s hooves beside the drone of the wind when it picked up. The solitude of it reminded Eggsy of the weight across his lap, enough that he eyes strayed down to the tied burial shawl. He spread his fingers over the embroider shawl and felt the heavy weight of it against even his worn hands.

Guilt nagged at Eggsy’s consciousness. Merlin had gone to so much trouble to try and make Harry’s burial as respectable as the old knight would have wished. But Eggsy was young and too grief stricken to have accepted the death of his mentor so well. So he had stolen away with Harry’s faithful steed, Galahad, and the body long gone cold to one last hope.

His mother would no doubt be beside herself to have him gone with no explanation. Even Roxy and Merlin only had a letter to explain his actions.

But Harry’s body hadn’t been his only theft. One more artifact had been required for the gateway that lay at the end of the bridge leading into the looming castle. It was aged and one edge looked ready to fall inwards but still standing. All the stones were wind worn and looked like they should be smooth to the touch between the weeds or moss that managed to seed itself between them.

Despite that Eggsy could feel the odd sensation in the air of this place. An undercurrent in the wind that made his hair raise on end. Long ago people had fled or been cast out by the last shred of the gods that still supposedly lingered on mortal soil. A terrible creature was supposed to be trapped within the castle itself, nurturing an old hatred for humanity. Many, many years ago humans had entrapped a weakened demon god they had called Gazelle - a name still capable of putting fright into the unjustly cruel.

A scabbard attached to Galahad’s saddle gave him the same buzzing he felt in just the very air of this land - magic. The last hope Eggsy had.

In the land forbidden to humans there supposedly lived a demon god who could return life to the dead.

The doors were not made of wood but stone and they would have been too heavy for any mortal to budge. Not even an army could have heaved them open. Eggsy felt impossibly small looking up at them but the feel of thread beneath his fingers wouldn’t let him be frightened off. Looking the intricate pattern of the shawl over once more Eggsy took a breath meant to fortify himself before he began to unfasten the ties holding the scabbard to the saddle. Barely in hand the doors before them gave an ominous groan before they began to swing inwards. The weight of the shaking the stone of the bridge and making deafening noise. Galahad startled but calmed when Eggsy drew in the reins and pressed closer to him, shush and whispering reassurances he did not believe.

Demon gods were not to be trifled with and Eggsy had no expectations he would leave these lands alive. But if he failed then he might still be able to achieve what he hoped to - a reunion.

When the doors came to a stop everything was still once more. The quiet nearly deafening in comparison to the scraping and screech of the doors when they had opened. The path ahead of dark but still Eggsy gave Galahad a few more pats to calm him before nudging his sides to urge him forward.

Into the darkness of the castle they went, one hand clutching at Galahad’s reins while the other clung at the weight of Harry across his lap, without looking back.

#unsentwrites #shadow of the colossus au #hartwin

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