A Good Day
this has been in my drafts for ages so voila
cw: messed up superhero agency and what happens to those who don't make it through training, minor whump (implied), crying in the backseat of a car, mostly just introductions to the characters, which are two brothers who've adopted this ex-hero-who-ran-from-training and the agency will do anything to get him back, also angst and scarring
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Today is going to be a good day.
Teddy digs a hand into the cracked leather of the armrest, picking at the plush inside. He watches the blurring sky from the car window.
He needs it to be a good day.
On the radio, a song he doesn’t know is playing. The volume is set far too high. It’s blasting a hole through his head and he reaches over to turn it off, but stops when he realizes the teenager in the backseat mouthing along with the words.
If only excitement was infectious.
All Teddy can feel is panic. Today is going to be good. It’s going to be great…going to be good….
He sinks back into the seat, pulling the plush completely out of the armrest. He rips it into smaller and smaller pieces. Finding something to direct his growing anxiety on helps, a little.
The car slows at a stoplight, and his brother checks on him. “Teddy?”
Teddy waits, drawing the moment out until the light turns green and Elias has to keep his eyes on the road again. He brushes the last of the plush off his pants. “I'm good?” It comes out all wrong, like a question.
Any confidence he had earlier leaves then and now. Teddy picks the plush up from the floor of the car and starts to tear at it again. He keeps his eyes steadily on the window, watching the buildings fly past.
Billboards.
People.
So many people.
Elias lowers the music. “You want to do this,” he repeats, confident “You’ve only been talking about it for the past three months.”
Teddy finds an unshredded piece of plush and rips it with a vicious twist of his fingers. “This was a bad idea...I’m not good enough.”
Shit.
He hadn’t meant to say that aloud.
Elias turns the radio off. Click.
Shit.
“I think you’re good enough,” he says.
Cut out the emotional sap.
But Elias goes on. “The Glenn Symphony won’t even wait until the end of the audition to hire you.”
“There’s tryouts after the audition too. Another round.” Teddy points out, vindication sharp in his mouth.
Elias lifts a hand off the wheel to wave his brother's concerns aside. “Which you’ll do amazing at. Don’t shake your head at me– Stop– you’re going to blow them away. You’ll go into one of your little trances and you’ll forget there are people even watching.”
Teddy’s fingers still. “I don’t go into a trance.” He just forgets about everything and everyone around him and it’s just the music– just the music— all around him, until he sees the notes playing under his eyelids….
“You’re going to do great.”
The banter goes on, and on, until the nervousness seeps out of Teddy’s voice. He smiles as the back-and-forth continues.
In the backseat, the kid laughs brightly, his voice charred and raspy enough to sound burned.
He talks in a slow cadence, testing the words before he says them. “I’m getting deja vu. But,” he points at Teddy and Elias, “the roles were switched.” Dark hair falls into his eyes as he leans forward between the seats.
“Yeah, I thought I would be sick at my audition.” Elias pauses for breath, then dives back into the conversation, “And Teddy, told me ‘you’re gonna be fine’. And? You were right.”
Rufus-- the teenager--jabs Teddy in the shoulder. “Your audition is going to go just as well.”
Elias turns again. “You tell him, Rufus.”
Teddy sighs. “If you guys say so.” He doesn’t sound convinced.
He doesn't feel convinced.
He doesn't want to be convinced.
“Good," says Elias, "Because we’re here.”
Teddy’s stomach drops as the car pulls into the parking spot. With the jolt of the stop, Teddy’s stomach drops even further. He freezes over his seatbelt, catching sight of the massive Art Center.
“Can we go in with you?”
Teddy wishes his brother could come. But the restrictions said only the applicant could meet the audition committee, so he shakes his head and unbuckles his seatbelt.
“I’ll see you in half an hour?”
Teddy nods. “Half an hour.” He shuts the car door behind him and stares up at the glass pillars of the entrance. The world seems to spin, for a moment. Unconsciously, he fidgets with his tie and buttons his suit jacket. Then his gaze is pulled to a billboard stationed above the building.
A girl with a halo of pink hair surveys a depiction of the city from the sky, stars swirling at her feet. Her skin bleeds into the night around her. Her eyes are alight with white flames.
Guardian Angel, they call her.
Protector of cities.
She’s a hero, a legend, a god.
Above her are the words: Savior. The heroes of tomorrow, today.
Teddy looks away, at the car, as it pulls out of the parking lot.
The Guardian’s eyes don’t leave him until he’s inside. Even then, he can feel them boring into the back of his head. They don’t leave him as he shakes hands with the audition committee. He can still feel them when he wipes his sweaty palms on his pant leg. Only when he sits down at the piano, with the black and white keys shining up at him, do the eyes of flame fade from his memory.
The half hour goes by in a blur.
The piece he’s memorized for this audition is his personal favorite. As he plays, all else drains away. He’s not on a stage anymore, he’s back in the apartment, and there’s no one watching him.
He feels good.
The nervousness vanishes.
Stage lights are blinding but the music drowns it out. He’s doing well, he knows it. The piano is deeper than his own and he is able to bring out sounds he could never replicate again.
He smiles, leaning over the piano, acutely aware of the tension in his hands as he holds a long chord, and playing the melody faster.
Just a little faster than the four four time required.
It feels so good.
Teddy finishes and stands. The committee promises that the callbacks will be within the week, and a few smile.
He smiles back, fidgeting with his tie. The music is gone, replaced with uncomfortable small talk. Teddy nods, and says thank you so many times, he thinks he’ll be unable to say anything else the rest of the day. He’s saved by a text from Elias and it takes all of his self control to not run from the building.
Teddy doesn’t look at the billboard, in fact, he does his best to forget it's there. He gets in the car, keeping his back to it.
Elias pulls down his sunglasses. “The piano man survived!”
Rufus leans forward, shoving the last bit of an ice cream sandwich into his mouth. “How’d you do?” At least that's what it sounds like. Teddy can’t exactly tell– Rufus’s mouth is completely full.
Teddy laughs. He can’t help it. It’s over, and he’s out of the auditorium, and as Elias drives forward, the billboard is gone.
Teddy pulls off his tie completely and lets it fall to the floor. “I survived, yeah. I think it went well.” He’s distracted by the assortment of wrappers on the floor. “Did you guys get me any ice cream?”
Rufus hands him a bar.
The taste of chocolate and vanilla pushes away the last remnants of the burning eyes.
He leans back in his seat, sunlight playing across the bridge of his nose.
Some of the vanilla trickles over his hand, sticky.
Even stickier when he licks it off.
It’s melting all over his hand when he hears the sirens.
Loud and shrill enough to cut through metal. The sun is still bright, but the temperature drops all the same.
Police cars have surrounded a house set by the road. Their lights flash red and blue and red again, bright enough to blind the whole street. Someone is dragged out of the house, the door hanging slightly off its hinges.
It’s kicked and the door falls off completely, slamming into the porch.
Someone is shouting– cursing. Cursing Savior. It’s loud enough to be heard over the sirens.
Elias’s hands clench over the wheel and in the backseat, Rufus turns to stone, silence creeping up and strangling all three of them.
“Get in the backseat with Rufus.” Now. Before they see him.
Teddy says nothing and crawls over as quickly as possible. He moves to sit on the side closest to the window, shielding Rufus with his own profile.
Elias speeds up.
Rufus is trembling as Teddy wraps his arms around him, pulling him close. Dark braids shield his eyes but he’s whispering something over and over again.
Rufus, who had been laughing and joking not a moment before, presses shaking hands together. He buries his face into Teddy’s shirt, and Teddy brushes back his hair, holding him tight. The word Rufus whispers is a plea.
All it takes is a moment for the day to fall apart.
One moment.
“Please please please please–”
They’ve driven past the house, but Rufus continues to tremble. And beg.
The begging is worse than anything.
Vanilla and chocolate drip over the leather seats.
Savior. The heroes of tomorrow, today.
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So I’ve had this story idea in my head for a while, it’s changed a lot lately but there’s a new version kinda that I think will stick—unnecessary precursor to this post.
I posted abt it yesterday with a question that someone answered so I deleted the post, also irrelevant. But I mentioned that there’s main characters—Prince, Thief, and Soldier (Some have names so far but for the sake of organization rn they don’t in this post). And also Servant. It’s a fantasy world, so there’s powers. Anyways, I know it’s overused, fire powers and royalty, but sue me.
So the royal family has fire powers. While I was fleshing this idea out a bit, I was thinking back to my prompt from a while back about branded handprints.
Can you see where this is going?
Anyways all of the royal servants are branded with the king’s handprint. It’s supposed to be a symbol of “honor”, but really it’s just a sign of authority, in case any of them decide to try to flee or run away it’s a quick way to return them to where they belong.
So Servant is assigned specifically to Prince, and their relationship is about what you expect. Prince is second in line for the throne after his brother, so he’s bitter and power hungry and poor Servant is just trying his best but it’s never enough.
Traditionally, it’s only the king’s handprint, but Prince doesn’t think that’s enough. So he brands Servant with his own. Multiple times.
This happened a few years before the story would begin, and Prince has grown a bit in maturity. He’s no where near “good”, but he’s no longer as impulsively cruel—so he tries to mend the relationship a bit. He’s also fairly bored and lonely, and Servant is always around, and it’s a little awkward trying to make amends with someone who is scared to walk too loudly around you.
Idk I wanted to share because I love finally giving a vague context to the prompt and also like this story is buzzing around my brain but I can’t write it so I wanted to share it with someone
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