thedreamsaredying:

barrelsmoke:

thedreamsaredying:

The only thing that resonated in the empty house was the ringing of silence.  Lisbon had fallen asleep in Lee’s arms as he rocked slowly back and forth. A bottle was snugged between Lee’s side and the recliner; long since cold. Lisbon breathed heavy as he slept contently; oblivious to the pain that threatened to devour Lee alive. It had been one month. One month since Lee’s house of cards had come tumbling down. There was a creak in the wood floor as Lee rocked back and forth very rhythmically. How long he had been sitting in the recliner? He didn’t remember. It could have been fifteen minutes or perhaps three hours.

He still saw her all around him. He would see the flames of her hair reflected out of the corner of his eye. He even swore he saw her a few times, when he would lift his drooped, exhausted face. She would smile, and only then would Lee realize that Lisbon would not be in his arms, but instead crying out in the kitchen.

As the days wore on, the deep bags beneath his eyes would lengthen. For the first week after her death, he was in shock. Nothing could have happened to Ondra. Lee was supposed to protect her. For much of that week, Ondra’s family surrounded him. They all grieved and would ask him if he was okay. He would not – or could not – respond. He would glance at them, but nothing would register. His eyes were blank. Then came Ondra’s funeral. At that point it still did not seem real. He would ask himself continually who this was for; he could not remember. They asked him to say a few words, but every syllable seemed to hide deep in his throat. Then they lowered her into the ground. At that point, Lisbon had cried out, but Lee found his eyes dry.

The real pain started after the family had vanished and resumed their lives.

Sleep evaded him, for in those fleeting visions he would see Ondra’s broken body. The only moments of rest he would get would be when little Lisbon tugged off to sleep, and Lee felt his chin droop. Often he would awake crying out, waking Lisbon who would begin wailing at his sleep getting disturbed.

If not for Rosalia, everything in Lee’s life would have halted. He would not have moved from his bed, or gathered enough energy to ensure that he ate something. She had come over at least once a day, if not more, to make food, and ensure Lisbon was taken care of. Lee appreciated it, but had difficulty showing his appreciation. It all got lost with the rest of his emotions except immense sorrow.

There was also something that made Lee feel very guilty. While Rosalia bustled around the house, Lee felt a twinge of his beating heart that had existed for some time, even before Ondra’s death. Rosalia had been his assistant for a long time – even before he met Ondra. She had been with him through the murky deeps and the brilliant highs. Lee had been attracted to her from the very beginning, but taught himself not to think of her in that context. He remembered that Ondra had felt intimidated by her at first, before she realized that Lee was serious about being with her.

Now that Ondra was gone, though, Lee felt that old crush return and it made him deeply ashamed. This was not the place and this was definitely not the time. He would remind himself that Ondra was the only one for him, but there was a beat that told him that it didn’t necessarily have to be like that.

In Lee’s haze, he saw the brilliance of red hair before he saw her face. Ondra stood in front of him, with a smile on her face. Lisbon still remained in his lap, so it was not because of the yearling disappearing like previous appearances. No, this one was different. She had a comforting smile on her face.

‘I want you to keep moving, and I think she can help you,’ she whispered as she brushed a kiss under his eyes. ‘I know you miss me, but I can’t come back, and I want you happy.’

Lee stared at her face. It was exactly the same as the night she had left, and had never returned. She even wore the same outfit. No words were uttered from his mouth. He just stared, and did not quite understand.

‘I also want you to think about Lisbon,’ the ghostly Ondra said as her translucent hand hovered over Lisbon’s forehead. ‘So, wake up.’

At that moment, Ondra disappeared and the door creaked as it opened. Rosalia had let herself in, with her arm full of groceries.

“Rosalia?” Lee croaked. 

Stopping by Lee’s home to check in on him and Lisbon had become a routine for Rosalia, though did not mind that it was. She understood how what he was going through would be terribly hard to cope with, and on top of working with him for so long, Lee was honestly one of her closest companions. She cared deeply for both his well being and Lisbon’s, so she took it upon herself, without complaint, to do what she could for the both of them.

It did hurt her heart to see him so out of sorts, however. And while she could never blame him for feeling the way that he was, she did wish very much that there was some way she pull him back to happiness. Or even anything other than the grief that he had been stuck in. She missed his smiles, his charm, his contagious energy. Her own life felt like it was missing something without it, though she knew it was selfish to even think that. This situation was not about her, not in the slightest. Even still, she did worry that if he didn’t come out of his slump soon things may only get worse for Lee. The last thing she wanted was for Lee to get so down that he tore himself apart, and if she had any say in matters, she wasn’t going to let that happen.

Rosalia approached the front door and grasped the handle, finding it unlocked, so she let herself in. Lee was likely expecting her, anyway, and she liked to be as quiet as possible on her visits in the event of a napping Lisbon. With everything else going on, the poor boy didn’t need to be grouchy from being woken up on top of it all.

She heard Lee call out her name and she turned her head in the direction of the sound, offering him a smile, for whatever it was worth. She always tried to be cheerful when she arrived, hoping that it would maybe put some sort of positive energy into the air. “Hi.” She greeted. “Have you eaten? I brought things for supper.” She lifted up the arm her grocery bag was looped onto for emphasis as she made her way toward the kitchen to unload.

There was still a nag in Lee as he dropped his eyes down to look at little Lisbon. He was stirring as he awoke from his nap. Was that really Ondra? Was she a ghost, protecting him? What did she mean by what she said? She could not have possibly been serious. He loved Ondra with all his heart; why would he go for another woman? Even if it was Rosalia. Lee pulled Lisbon up and hugged him. Lisbon opened his eyes and stared perplexed at his father.

How could he possibly know that this is what Ondra would want? His mind probably created the apparition to cope with the grief, and he would still be betraying her wishes.

One thing she had said, though, had stuck. It was time to wake up. He couldn’t spend his life wallowing, but rather needed to get up, and live.

Lisbon had begun to whine and struggle within Lee’s arms. He had not quite begun speaking, but he was close to walking. Ondra would never see him walk his first step, or hear his first word. It made Lee’s heart drop a little. This was something that they were supposed to share.

Lee placed Lisbon on the ground. Lisbon sat for a minute, babbling at Lee, before crawling to the kitchen and towards Rosalia.

Standing up, Lee felt his body ache. His muscles throbbed from disuse, and his joints popped from the movement. His body felt impossibly tired. There was no way that one person could feel the exhaustion in their bones the way that Lee felt them. Regardless of the pain and tiredness, Lee walked into the kitchen, right behind Lisbon.

Crawling over towards Rosalia, Lisbon had now sat down and held up his arms toward the woman. He babbled and whined, hoping to get her attention; the same way he had for Ondra. Lee watched, as he propped himself up with the doorframe.

“No, I haven’t eaten,” he finally responded to her question. “I fed Lisbon a bottle, but he probably needs some real food. I think I can do that.”

He was going to pick up Lisbon, but instead paused. “Rosalia,” he said and straightened. “I-…,” he gulped down the saliva in his mouth, and paused. “Thank you,” he said. “For everything you have done the past month.” He smiled, though not as broadly as he had in the past. “I’m tired, but I think I’m finally ready to function again.” 

Rosalia set to work, which in tonight’s case was as simple as unloading the groceries and setting the oven. The quiet that had filled the house recently had just become another part of her routine, and while she always hoped that it would suddenly change, and she always did try to get more out of Lee once she sat down with him to eat, but there was a part of her that had grown used to doing her cooking quietly.

“Well, hello there, handsome.” She greeted with a grin as she crouched down beside Lisbon, as he approached. She had intended to pick him up, as well, but she caught sight of Lee standing in the doorway and that quickly stole all of her attention. For a few split seconds she almost didn’t believe it, but then he started speaking, and she managed to convince herself that it was real.

He finished speaking and she stood back up, still grinning. “Lee, that’s great.” She stepped closer to him and pulled him into a tight hug. “I’m so proud of you.” She said, meaning it completely. She’d been so worried about loosing who he was forever, and this was exactly what she needed to hear to believe that that wasn’t going to happen.

“I’ll still be here for you, of course.” She continued, still clinging onto him. She knew that would still likely take time for him to recover completely, but she was willing help in any way she could no matter what, and at least now things were starting to look up. “Always.”

thedreamsaredying:

The only thing that resonated in the empty house was the ringing of silence.  Lisbon had fallen asleep in Lee’s arms as he rocked slowly back and forth. A bottle was snugged between Lee’s side and the recliner; long since cold. Lisbon breathed heavy as he slept contently; oblivious to the pain that threatened to devour Lee alive. It had been one month. One month since Lee’s house of cards had come tumbling down. There was a creak in the wood floor as Lee rocked back and forth very rhythmically. How long he had been sitting in the recliner? He didn’t remember. It could have been fifteen minutes or perhaps three hours.

He still saw her all around him. He would see the flames of her hair reflected out of the corner of his eye. He even swore he saw her a few times, when he would lift his drooped, exhausted face. She would smile, and only then would Lee realize that Lisbon would not be in his arms, but instead crying out in the kitchen.

As the days wore on, the deep bags beneath his eyes would lengthen. For the first week after her death, he was in shock. Nothing could have happened to Ondra. Lee was supposed to protect her. For much of that week, Ondra’s family surrounded him. They all grieved and would ask him if he was okay. He would not – or could not – respond. He would glance at them, but nothing would register. His eyes were blank. Then came Ondra’s funeral. At that point it still did not seem real. He would ask himself continually who this was for; he could not remember. They asked him to say a few words, but every syllable seemed to hide deep in his throat. Then they lowered her into the ground. At that point, Lisbon had cried out, but Lee found his eyes dry.

The real pain started after the family had vanished and resumed their lives.

Sleep evaded him, for in those fleeting visions he would see Ondra’s broken body. The only moments of rest he would get would be when little Lisbon tugged off to sleep, and Lee felt his chin droop. Often he would awake crying out, waking Lisbon who would begin wailing at his sleep getting disturbed.

If not for Rosalia, everything in Lee’s life would have halted. He would not have moved from his bed, or gathered enough energy to ensure that he ate something. She had come over at least once a day, if not more, to make food, and ensure Lisbon was taken care of. Lee appreciated it, but had difficulty showing his appreciation. It all got lost with the rest of his emotions except immense sorrow.

There was also something that made Lee feel very guilty. While Rosalia bustled around the house, Lee felt a twinge of his beating heart that had existed for some time, even before Ondra’s death. Rosalia had been his assistant for a long time – even before he met Ondra. She had been with him through the murky deeps and the brilliant highs. Lee had been attracted to her from the very beginning, but taught himself not to think of her in that context. He remembered that Ondra had felt intimidated by her at first, before she realized that Lee was serious about being with her.

Now that Ondra was gone, though, Lee felt that old crush return and it made him deeply ashamed. This was not the place and this was definitely not the time. He would remind himself that Ondra was the only one for him, but there was a beat that told him that it didn’t necessarily have to be like that.

In Lee’s haze, he saw the brilliance of red hair before he saw her face. Ondra stood in front of him, with a smile on her face. Lisbon still remained in his lap, so it was not because of the yearling disappearing like previous appearances. No, this one was different. She had a comforting smile on her face.

‘I want you to keep moving, and I think she can help you,’ she whispered as she brushed a kiss under his eyes. ‘I know you miss me, but I can’t come back, and I want you happy.’

Lee stared at her face. It was exactly the same as the night she had left, and had never returned. She even wore the same outfit. No words were uttered from his mouth. He just stared, and did not quite understand.

‘I also want you to think about Lisbon,’ the ghostly Ondra said as her translucent hand hovered over Lisbon’s forehead. ‘So, wake up.’

At that moment, Ondra disappeared and the door creaked as it opened. Rosalia had let herself in, with her arm full of groceries.

“Rosalia?” Lee croaked. 

Stopping by Lee’s home to check in on him and Lisbon had become a routine for Rosalia, though did not mind that it was. She understood how what he was going through would be terribly hard to cope with, and on top of working with him for so long, Lee was honestly one of her closest companions. She cared deeply for both his well being and Lisbon’s, so she took it upon herself, without complaint, to do what she could for the both of them.

It did hurt her heart to see him so out of sorts, however. And while she could never blame him for feeling the way that he was, she did wish very much that there was some way she pull him back to happiness. Or even anything other than the grief that he had been stuck in. She missed his smiles, his charm, his contagious energy. Her own life felt like it was missing something without it, though she knew it was selfish to even think that. This situation was not about her, not in the slightest. Even still, she did worry that if he didn’t come out of his slump soon things may only get worse for Lee. The last thing she wanted was for Lee to get so down that he tore himself apart, and if she had any say in matters, she wasn’t going to let that happen.

Rosalia approached the front door and grasped the handle, finding it unlocked, so she let herself in. Lee was likely expecting her, anyway, and she liked to be as quiet as possible on her visits in the event of a napping Lisbon. With everything else going on, the poor boy didn’t need to be grouchy from being woken up on top of it all.

She heard Lee call out her name and she turned her head in the direction of the sound, offering him a smile, for whatever it was worth. She always tried to be cheerful when she arrived, hoping that it would maybe put some sort of positive energy into the air. “Hi.” She greeted. “Have you eaten? I brought things for supper.” She lifted up the arm her grocery bag was looped onto for emphasis as she made her way toward the kitchen to unload.

grayscalegangsters: "Make me," Saphron whispered into Ethan's ear.

The girl was good. He’d realized this quite some time ago, which only solidified the truth to it. It was impressive, honestly, how no matter how many times they’ve done this dance before he could still get the same thrill from it.

His hands were on her instantly, and almost just as quickly she was being moved to the bed, right where she belonged. “There.” He said with a smirk as he followed, climbing on top of her. “Now,” He continued, reaching to gently entwine her hair around his fingers. “I’m going to make you do much, much more.”

thedreamsaredying: "I want to be yours," said Ezra to Kellan.

It’s interesting how sometimes something should, considering all evidence, be expected, and yet still manages to take you by surprise. Maybe it was the way it had been worded. ‘Yours’. His. Kellan couldn’t help but feel a weight to the word. It seemed so definite. Powerful. But then, given how the two of them have been going so far that was only fitting, wasn’t it? The two of them had an undeniable intensity, and Kellan wouldn’t have it any other way.

“You are.” He replied simply, yet somehow he knew that Ezra would sense how much it meant him. “Just as I am yours.”

leaningtogether: "That isn't mine." --Henry to Illias

Illias was still standing there pointing inside his big brother’s bedroom, even though his attention had shifted and he was now staring up at said big brother. “Oh.” Was all he said before quiet surrounded them, as if the entire world was waiting for an explanation. It wasn’t unlikely that Henry was even still trying to come up with one, but it wasn’t necessary.

Illias lowered his hand, finally, and then gave his brother a nod. “I imagine things will be much easier for you two now that she has legs more often.”

leaningtogether: "Make me." --Darcy to Majesta

At first, all Maj could find the energy for was turning her head to look at her friend, flicking some hair out of her face in the process. Banter was far from from unusual in their household, but it was way too hot for Darcy’s sass, today.

"Fine. I’ll do it myself." Majesta replied simply, stepping around Darcy to grab the hose that was laying on the ground behind her. Regardless of the weather, it just wasn’t in Majesta’s nature to let anyone get off easy, however. So as soon as she was upright again she pressed her thumb partially over the nozzle as she brought it up to spray her friend, laughing all the while.

Put one of the following in my inbox for my Muse’s reaction.

  • “Don’t go.”
  • “Just go.”
  • “Just let me die.”
  • “You’re pregnant and it’s mine.”
  • “Make me.”
  • “Kiss me you idiot.”
  • “I didn’t do it.”
  • “It was me.”
  • “That isn’t mine.”
  • “That’s mine!”
  • “Marry me?”
  • “Truth hurts, don’t it?”
  • “Be mine.”
  • “I want to be yours.”
  • “You owe me.”
  • “I owe you.”
  • "Just relax."

thedreamsaredying:

barrelsmoke:

thedreamsaredying:

barrelsmoke:

thedreamsaredying:

In reality, Ezra would not have known what to do if Kellan had rejected him right then and there. Get on with his life, he supposed; Better to get everything out early than to let it drag on and be potentially damaging later. Kellan had not rejected him, though. He had reciprocated Ezra’s declaration. For the first time that day, Ezra felt his heart pick up a few beats. He betrayed none of this pleasure on his face, but rather kept it calm and emotionless. Instead, he continued to stare and admire Kellan.

“Fantasy stories are very interesting,” Ezra said. “I appreciate the tropes and archetypes that litter the pages. They seem to be especially prominent in those fantastical elements.” Ezra paused at this point, deciding how much to disclose to this boy. The boy had decided to go along with him – not that Ezra planned to hurt him – but Ezra did not know who this boy was, and did not feel like he could fully trust him yet with the darker parts of his personality. “I also really like vampires,” he decided to add, which was true. He always felt more drawn to vampires in literature than any other mythological creature; especially Anne Rice’s vampires. “I’ve never been a big fan of witches, however.”

Ezra tapped his book with his finger. “I am a literature professor,” he told the boy. “My specialty is in Russian and existentialist literature, which often goes together - authors like Chekov and Dostoevsky. I love just the blatant rejection of religion and how everything regarding good and evil is on a continuum. There is no black and white. Both types of literature are also not afraid to indulge the darker side of humans. They are not afraid to show what others are afraid to show: The darkness within everyone’s soul. This particular book is just some recent novel that I’ve had my eye on, that will probably live on my nightstand for a few weeks before I get to it.”

He looked at Kellan, and couldn’t help but crack a smile. He had told the boy a little more than he intended, but he looked like he could take it. If this was going to go anywhere, Kellan would eventually learn these things about Ezra. Yet, he did not want to scare him away. 

There was something else that intrigued Ezra as he studied Kellan. There seemed to be an underlying darkness that did not flinch away from the sight of carnage. There seemed to be something about him that told Ezra that when he eventually did tell him that he was actually a hitman for the Dusk, Kellan would be impressed and not appalled. That was still a long time away. Really, Ezra did not know why he was even humoring these thoughts. He kept having to remind himself that he was getting ahead of himself. 

Reaching down, Ezra lifted his latte and took another drink, trying not to dominate the conversation. 

The more he spoke, the more Kellan began to wonder if Ezra really was out of his league. He was so intelligent and professional, and then there was himself. A kid who never had a stable home, let alone had much proper schooling. Kellan wasn’t exactly sure what it was that Ezra saw in himself, but instead of letting that get him down, he decided to take it and run with it. This grotesque city had cheated Kellan out of enough, already, he wasn’t about to let it take this away, too. Not without a fight, at least.

“That all sounds really interesting.” He replied, honestly. The things that Ezra were saying about the books read brought out a genuine fascination in Kellan, and not just about the books, but about Ezra, as well. Up until now the person he’d ever felt could ever really understand him was Gwen, even the other members of the Dusk that he knew of he couldn’t seem to really connect with. He couldn’t help but be excited about the idea of Ezra being another person he could trust. He was devoted to Gwen through and through, but this new potential relationship had a different set of possibilities. He knew he shouldn’t be letting himself think so far ahead, though. They had only just met. He was probably being ridiculous. “Maybe you could suggest some for me to read, sometime. I haven’t found anything new and exciting in a while, so maybe it’s time I branch out.”

He hadn’t realized he’d been fidgeting with his cup until he stopped speaking, at which point he abruptly made himself still again. “You’re a professor?” He continued. “I couldn’t handle it. I don’t think I could stand to be around so many people for so many hours. It would drive me crazy. Does it, ever?”

A shrug elevated Ezra’s shoulder at Kellan’s question. “It pays the bills,” he said. Which was only part of the truth; being a devil and hit-man for the dusk paid most of the bills. Teaching was just a front and an outlet. “It does drive me a bit crazy,” Ezra admitted. “I am not particularly a people person so getting up in front of a classroom and teaching and having to interact with co-workers gets a little old. My schedule currently is not too terrible, though. I am only teaching three courses, or about nine credits. The rest of my time I’m supposed to be completing research.” Ezra gave a wry smile. “There’s not too much innovative research that can be done talking about a particular genre. So, instead, I’m working on writing a book discussing human nature and how it connects to literature. It is an area in which I am particularly familiar. It’s the topic I chose for my PhD Thesis.” Ezra reached down and took a drink of his latte. “Plus, if you get a PhD in literature, academia or publishing are really the only paths you can go on, so my choices were slim.”

Tilting his head, Ezra examined Kellan. He noted his worn, but nice, clothes. He looked like someone who did not have a lot of money, and did what he could to get by. In an attempt to avoid an awkward turn to the conversation, Ezra decided not to ask what the boy did for a living. It was honestly not important, because if he and Ezra ended up as a thing, Kellan wouldn’t need to work anyway.

As Ezra looked at Kellan, he became aware of where he knew the boy from. He tried not to show his surprise at the realization on his face. The boy was Gwen’s pet; or that is what the other’s called him. Ah. Yes. Ezra knew. He had seen him a few times. How he had not immediately jumped to that conclusion was a little odd. He felt like he knew him more from another life… how preposterous.

The realization settled Ezra’s nerves, though. He no longer feared for when he had to tell the boy about his role in the Dusk. Part of him was surprised that Kellan had not known him already.

“So,” Ezra said, as he lowered his voice. He really could not afford for other’s to overhear this. “Are you a part of the Dusk?” he asked. He could not think of an easy way to ask the question, without bringing it to the surface. Ezra was confident that this was the boy, though, but he did not want to be wrong.

Kellan had sat, listening with the same attentiveness he’d had since he’d mat Ezra, meanwhile trying to form his own responses. He was beginning to wonder if maybe this hadn’t been the right direction to go with their small talk. All of the talk of school and work didn’t exactly give Kellan a lot to pull from in regards to own personal experience, and he wasn’t sure he was quite ready to fess up about why that was. His life story was the kind that could easily become a mood killer.

The conversation suddenly took a different turn, however, and took Kellan by surprise. Instinctively, his eyebrows narrowed, but he corrected himself quickly. He was going to have to tread lightly, here. His gut was telling him certain things, that he could trust Ezra, that they were on the same side, but he wasn’t foolish enough to let that be his only reasoning for outing himself. He could only imagine how stupid that would seem, blowing his cover and landing himself and anyone associated with him into trouble all because he had some crush on someone he had only just met that day.

Though, as he continued to examine Ezra, he did wonder if that was truly the case. He was certain this was the first time they’d spoken, but there did seem to be something familiar about Ezra. He originally thought that was perhaps just another side effect of his attraction to the man, but now he was considering the other option. The more he pondered it, the more sense it all started to make. Regardless, he had to be careful, and he knew it. “That’s an interesting question to bring up out of the blue.” He replied, lowering his voice as well. He even moved forward, placing his arms on the table between them and leaning in closer to Ezra. “Are you part of the dusk?”

When Kellan had finished his rebuttal, Ezra could not help but smile. He liked Kellan’s response. It was very pragmatic, and most of all it showed that he would not readily give up Dusk intelligence. It made Ezra feel better about the decision to reveal himself to this boy.

Looking over at the counter, Ezra spotted the Barista, and also the coffee shop owner, busily cleaning off surfaces. Ezra knew that she would not reveal any of their information as she was a member of the dusk herself. Looking around the rest of the coffee shop, Ezra only spotted a scattered body; all with headphones stuffed into their ears as they feverently typed at their computers.

While Ezra still did not feel completely comfortable with telling Kellan about his role, he also felt that he needed to tell him if this was going to go anywhere. Not only that, but this was the perfect time to tell.

“You work with Gwen, right?” Ezra asked, despite knowing the answer. “I guess you could say that I work for whoever needs the most assistance,” Ezra said quietly. He smiled. “Or, I guess you could say that others work for me when I ask.”

Reaching down, Ezra took a drink of his latte. Over his cup, he inspected Kellan’s face. He did not anticipate that Gwen would take on someone that would later turn out to be a traitor. She had no tolerance for that kind of behavior. Out of all of the demons or devils, Gwen and Kayan were the ones that demanded the greatest amount of loyalty. “Yes,” Ezra said. “I have seen you with Gwen a few times actually. I also work for the dusk; Being a professor is not my only job.” A dark smile spread across Ezra’s face. “I’m a devil, you see, so I make my way around.”

It turned to be more of a reveal than Kellan was expecting. Devil’s were top tier, the ones in charge. Even Gwen wasn’t quite on that level. By the minutes Ezra was becoming more and more intimidating, and more and more fascinating, However this didn’t quite threaten him on the same level as everything else had, in fact this just pulled Kellan in even more. If Ezra was a devil, as he said, and Kellan felt he could trust that, it made Kellan’s admiration for the man even more justifiable. They truly did have something in common, and if this did turn out to be anything resembling a relationship, that removed a number of potential complications.

“I do work mainly for Gwen.” He confessed. Ezra had laid everything out, and Kellan had noted that he examined the place before doing so. If Ezra believed it was safe enough to speak here, then Kellan would just have to go along with it. “She sort of took me in. I guess you could say she’s been my mentor, in a way.” Their bond was honestly a bit deeper than that, and it wasn’t exactly a secret. He knew what the other members of the Dusk said about his unrelenting loyalty to her, but that was a story for a different day, he decided. Though, he couldn’t help but ponder briefly how it would go if Gwen found out about what was happening now, and what could continue to happen in the future. Perhaps he just might get to find out.

“I’m kind of new.” He continued. “I know I’m not as old as some of the other members, or quite as skilled. But I know I’ll be useful. I’ve been learning from her.” He wasn’t exactly sure why he was defending himself like this. Maybe it had something to do with the thought that this was now his chance to prove that he might have something to offer in return. “Pretty quickly, I think.” He then smirked at Ezra, regaining some of this confidence. Getting this out in the open seemed to be a good idea, after.

“I could probably be especially useful if I had… someone else teaching me, too. Don’t you think?”

leaningtogether:

barrelsmoke:

leaningtogether:

barrelsmoke:

She hums to herself as she’s getting ready, nearly all finished now. She pulls her socks nearly up to her knees, then come the shoes, tying the laces tight. Once that’s done, she pushes herself off of her bed and goes over to her mirror, watching herself as she ties her hair into the perfect pigtails. Then it’s just a quick adjustment of her skirt and she’s all set, smiling at her reflection. She makes the hottest little school girl. But then, that was always the case, wasn’t it?

She turns her head, looking over to her window, nibbling on the inside of her lip as she does. In a matter of seconds she turns and takes off, bouncing over the mound of a pug sleeping in her bedroom doorway. “I’ll be back in a bit, Darce!” She calls as she bounds down the stairs, not bothering to wait for a reply before she’s out of the house entirely.

It doesn’t take long for her to end up standing on the doorstep to her neighbor’s home. She pauses briefly, almost giving herself time to think about what she’s doing, but not quite enough. That’s not really her style, anyway. Life’s more fun when you’re spontaneous, she always thought.

She knocks on the door, then shifts her weight from one foot to the other. “Trick or treat~!” She calls, grinning to herself while she waits.

Halloween was not Henry’s first choice for an evening of fun and excitement.  In fact it was probably one of the lowest dates -in particular- on his list.  For one thing Jane and Illias took the entire thing so seriously that he had had to instate a rule years ago that prohibited them from going into the forest (and eventually from leaving the house altogether) because of the number of times the police had been called on account of ‘blood curdling screams that turned out to be nothing.’  Some things he could get away with allowing on behalf of the world they lived in on most days, but making the people of Silhouette think they were likely being chopped to bits on the most frightening night of the year was not one of them.

So, here he was.  Standing in his bedroom in front of the mirror trying to figure out if he was as convincing a monster as his little sister insisted he was.  Mostly he thought he just looked like a fluffy purple teddy bear with an extra eye painted on to the middle of his forehead.  Everything on his body itched, and briefly he found it in him to wonder just exactly where the material he was wearing had come from (Jane had apparently discovered it in her favorite fabric store on the way home from work), but rather than dwell on it he just sighed and scratched at the side of his leg as he chose to move on.  

There was a low humming noise coming from the hallway outside of his room, and he peered out from the doorway with a craned neck while rummaging in one of his top drawers for his blue bow-tie.  Sitting in a darkened corner at the end of the hall was a rather large blob of what looked sort of like a sheet spattered with glow in the dark paint.  Which, was exactly what it was.  It was Jane that was humming, trying her best to be menacing and actually winding up only a little more strange than typical people might normally have found her.

“What is that terrifying sound?” He asked, finding the tie with his hands and stepping out into the hallway, widening his eyes and peering into the blackness, “Is that a ghost?  What have you done with my sister, Ghost?”

For a moment Jane sat perfectly still, and he could practically hear her mind working beneath the makeshift costume.  Funny, he thought, that she had spent so much time on his costume so that he could go out, but when it came to her own she had just ripped some holes in her own bed covers and draped them over herself.

“I ate her!” She replied, rather triumphantly.

Feigning shock with a hand over his heart, Henry took two steps backward, and that was when the doorbell rang.  His head swiveled instinctively to look down the stairs and towards the front door.  Brows knitted together he took a couple of sideways steps downward and attempted to duck without drawing attention to himself.  No one ever knocked on their door unless it was someone he knew, and everyone he knew was already going to the party.  

“Don’t answer it,” Jane said calmly, still tucked into her corner, “It’s not a stranger.”

“No,” Henry wasn’t looking at his sister but he continued talking to her as he moved down into the entryway of the house, “No, Jane, you don’t answer the door for strangers.”  

Finally he decided that it wasn’t as if the person on the other side of the door was likely to combust as soon as he looked at them, so he reached out and pulled it open despite what he thought was probably his better judgement.  He immediately wished that he hadn’t, though.  Not because of who it was, or because they were there, but because he found himself lacking any sense of direction as to what to do next.

It was Majesta.  Of course it was Majesta, it was always Majesta when he least expected it and least needed a sudden shock to his system, it always had been.  His eyes simultaneously attempted to take in the sight of her and block it out and after a moment he realized that his body had simply settled on losing all feeling and allowing his jaw to fall open.  After what seemed like an eternity he finally found it in him to swallow and blink and make direct eye-contact.  

‘Please keep eye contact.’

“Hello,” he stuttered, knuckles growing whiter by the second as they gripped the doorknob.

When the door finally opened, Majesta found herself being caught off guard, as well. She knew who she was expecting, of course, but she had not been expecting for him to be in costume at all, and especially not standing there looking like that. She looked him over, with her bottom lip winding up caught between her teeth as she tried to bite down a laugh. It wasn’t that he looked ridiculous, as a matter of fact, if she was being honest, she actually found his get-up endearing. Cute, even.

She regained herself, placing her hands on her hips as she looked up at him. “You’re supposed to pick, and either give me a treat or endure my trick. Unless this is my treat.” She glanced him over once again, giving extra pause to the extra eye on his forehead. She very nearly reached up to touch it, but stopped herself so as not to go messing it up. “I could accept that. Just look at you!” She motioned towards him, using both of her hands for added emphasis.

“You don’t normally go all out for Halloween, do you?” She then asked, cocking her head to the side. Halloween had always been her personal favorite holiday, so she supposed it was possible that maybe she had just always been too busy having her own fun to notice what her neighbor was up to that time of the year, but she doubted it. Especially if this was any indication of the types of costumes he would wear. “I don’t know what made you change your mind, but I like it.”

Henry could tell immediately that she was trying very hard not to laugh at him, and despite himself he felt the color draining from his face, making that silly third eye look even more prominent on his already pale skin.  ‘She thinks I look ridiculous,’ he thought, blinking once or twice and fumbling around inside of his head looking for something to say to explain himself.  When he finally thought he had hold of some words, however, she began talking to him.

Majesta said so much so quickly that it was difficult for him to keep up with her, but in the end it was only what she said last that mattered anyway.  She liked his costume.  She liked his costume.

‘She likes my costume?’

If he was pale before he was beet red now, and he fought off the thought that she would think him some sort of strange human-chameleon hybrid as he once again tried to force some actual words out of his mouth.  It had never been difficult to reprimand her in class or talk to her about how he knew she could do better on her papers, so why was it so hard to face her now that she was standing on his doorstep just striking up a normal (and comparatively tame) conversation?  Perhaps it had something to do with the pigtails and the sneaking suspicion that she had pulled her skirt up a little too high on purpose.

“I was just going- uhm…out,” he managed, nodding a little to reassure himself more than her.  Of course, as soon as the words were out of his mouth he recognized his mistake.  Majesta and Darcy were notorious party hoppers, especially when they weren’t tied to anything that Kent was doing.  Except Kent would be there -probably with Cadence- and now the girls would likely want to go too.  

‘I’m never going to survive tonight.’

Shifting uncomfortably from foot to foot he reached up to scratch at the itch forming at the back of his neck.

"You look…"

'What?  Incredible?  Really, really good?'

"Nice.  What were you two -uhm- what were you doing tonight?”

It sounded like more of an invitation than he had wanted it to, but there it was.  Why did everything have to be so complicated?

Majesta was not quite oblivious enough let the red tint creeping onto Henry’s face escape her attention, and she could feel her smile shifting. It wasn’t any less genuine, in fact you could almost argue for the opposite. It went from a big, intentional grin to something softer, that she wasn’t quite sure she was in control of. For a few split seconds it was almost like she really was back in high school. She almost remembered how it used to feel as she would approach his desk after class, or as she flashed him her best smile while walking past him in the hallways. As quick as the thoughts came, however, she forced them away. She was ridiculous then, and even thinking about all that was just as ridiculous, now. She was only even here because…

Right. She didn’t have a reason.

Her ears perked up at his next words, instantly distracting her from her thoughts. It made sense that Henry got himself all dressed up because he was going out somewhere, yet still the idea was very fascinating, maybe even a little exciting. He kept speaking, with his compliment squished directly in the middle, not leaving her with the option to casually respond directly to it, and she realized that was probably intentional. She knew herself well enough to know that she would have reacted with all the cute little tricks that were so natural to her, and he was interested in none of that. He was being polite, throwing it out there in the first place. She was being a bother, and she knew it. That’s why she was here. Bothering him was a game. It was fun.

“We were just gonna go see what we could find.” She said, crossing her arms over herself with an added shrug. “Halloween weekend in Silhouette City, shouldn’t be too hard to find something to do, right? Although…” Her toothy grin returned, her voice jumping up a pitch. “It sounds like you know more than we do.” She unfolded her right arm with the intention to simply point at him accusingly, yet found herself jabbing him playfully instead. “So, tell me, where are we going?”

© OCTOMOOSEY