flossietcoeur

[flossietcoeur]

Pause & Repeat (“Pilot”)

The sun hung low over the dusty town of Redwind, casting long shadows across the wooden buildings and the dry, cracked earth beneath. The scent of sweat, horse manure, and gunpowder filled the air, a familiar cocktail in this forgotten corner of the Wild West. But today, something felt different. There was a tension in the air that couldn’t be ignored. A feeling that someone was going to die…

Sheriff Scar rode through the town square on his white horse, his heavy boots thudding against the stirrup as he glanced around with sharp eyes. He hadn’t slept well last night. Something had rattled him. He’d heard whispers of a strange creature lurking in the hills, something twisted and unnatural, but no one could explain it.

“Sheriff,” a voice called out from behind him.

Scar turned to see a blond haired man named Martyn, approaching. Martyn’s face was pale, his hands trembling as he held a letter, the edges of the paper torn as though it had been hastily opened.

“What is it?” Scar asked, his voice warm.

Martyn handed him the letter, and Scar scanned it quickly. His heart sank.

“It’s Jimmy,” Martyn said, his voice barely above a whisper.

Jimmy had been the town’s florist, a good man with a quick smile and a steady hand. He’d worked alongside his partner, Scott, gardening, occasionally giving a hand in the fields, and keeping Redwind connected to LittleWood, a nearby forest inhabited by fairies and many other mystical creatures. But now… Jimmy was dead.

Scar did not waste any time. He turned his horse around and headed toward the garden, where the body was said to be. His mind raced. Whoever had killed Jimmy had to be close. And with Ren, the mayor, and Skizz, his iron-fisted right hand, running things from the shadows, Scar knew he could not trust anyone.

At the garden, the body of Jimmy lay in a pool of blood, his face frozen in a grimace of pain and covered in red petals. The way he was positioned, it was clear it wasn’t a simple robbery gone wrong. This was personal.

“Who found him?” Scar asked, his voice dark and low.

“A few of the town folk,” said a man in the corner, his blue hair falling down on his face is a disorderly manner. It was Scott, Jimmy’s partner. His eyes were dark, and his hands were shaking, though whether it was from rage or grief, Scar couldn’t tell.

“I’ll find out who did this,” Scar promised, gently but firmly putting his hand on the pale man’s shoulder. Scott lightly nodded and the sheriff kneeled beside the body. He ran his fingers through Jimmy’s hair, brushing it back to reveal a deep, dark wound at the back of his skull. There was something off about it, something that didn’t sit right. Whoever had done this had a message to send.

Scott’s voice broke through the silence. “I’ll bring down whoever did this. I swear to you, Sheriff, I’ll kill them.”

Scar stood, his gaze meeting Scott’s. “You’re not the only one with a reason to hunt down whoever killed Jimmy. But we can’t trust anyone in this town. Not Ren. Not Skizz. No one.”

Scott clenched his fists. “You think he’s involved? The mayor?”

Scar did not answer right away. Ren had always been a slippery man, a wheeler-dealer with too many secrets and too many deals under the table. He had a way of twisting the truth to his advantage. He was the richest man in Redwind and Littlewood, he could bribe anyone. Scar assumed that he had the whole town in his pocket. But could Ren really be behind Jimmy’s murder?

“I don’t know yet,” Scar said, his voice like gravel. “But I plan to find out.”

That night, the town gathered at Big B’ saloon, a dimly lit building that smelled of whiskey and dust. Scar had no intention of drinking or reveling in the usual town gossip. His eyes were fixed on Ren, who sat at the far end of the room with his usual crowd, Skizz by his side, his hulking presence a constant reminder of Ren’s power.

The mayor waved him over, a crooked smile spreading across his face as he motioned for Scar to join him.

“Sheriff,” Ren greeted him with a sly tone. “Good to see you, though I must admit, I heard some troubling news about Jimmy.”

“I’m sure you did,” Scar replied, his tone cold.

Ren looked at him through his tinted glasses. “You think I had something to do with it, don’t you? I know you’re dying for an excuse to arrest me.”

“I think you know a lot more than you’re letting on,” Scar said, his eyes narrowing. “But I’m not here to play games.”

Before Ren could respond, the door slammed open, and in walked a figure like no other. It was a rather short man who seemed to radiate a strange, ethereal energy, his eyes gleaming with an unsettling intensity. He was not human, Scar could tell that immediately. There was something otherworldly about him, something that made the hairs on the back of his neck stand up.

The man stepped forward, his gaze sweeping the room before locking eyes with the Sheriff. They stared at each other silently for a moment before the stranger averted his eyes and walked towards the bar.

Could he be involved with the murder? Scar wondered. The coincidence of his arrival was certainly odd.

Before Scar could move to question the newcomer, a voice called from outside. Lizzie, the guardian of the forest, stepped into the saloon, her eyes darting to each face in the room before settling on Ren.

“Ren,” she said, her voice sharp and commanding. “I need to speak with you.”

Ren’s eyes quickly shifted towards her. “Ah!” He stood up and grabbed the hat he had previously put down on the table. The mayor walked towards her, Skizz walking close behind. “The saloon isn’t a place for a fair lady like you. Let’s go talk at my place.”

With that, the two men and the lady walked out of the establishment.

Sheriff Scar sat down at the mayor’s table, his gaze following Ren and Lizzie as they left. Skizz, the mayor’s ever-present enforcer, lingered behind for a moment, casting a long, suspicious glance toward the Sheriff before following his boss out into the night.

Scar exhaled, his thoughts racing. The whole situation reeked of something bigger than a simple murder. Jimmy’s death wasn’t just personal, it was a message, and Scar had a sinking feeling that the whole town was tangled in it, whether they knew it or not. And the arrival of Lizzie was not a good news. It only meant that Littlewood was aware of the murder of one of their own. If the Sheriff could not solve the murder, this could cause conflict between the two towns and Redwind had no change against the fae of the woods.

The mysterious newcomer was still fresh in Scar’s mind. His unsettling presence felt like the calm before a storm, and the Sheriff wasn’t one to ignore such instincts. There was more to him than met the eye. But who was he? He needed to question the man before he left.

Scar stood and adjusted his coat, deciding that now was as good a time as any.

The man was sitting at an empty table in a quiet corner, his eyes locked on the crowd, as if waiting for something… or someone. Scar did not know if he was being paranoid, but the stranger’s arrival had been too coincidental. He needed answers.

“Mind if I ask what you’re doing here?” Scar called out, stepping closer.

The stranger turned slowly, his gaze locking with the Sheriff’s. His eyes were as dark and deep as the void.

“I’m just visiting.” He softly replied.

Scar narrowed his eyes, sitting down at the stranger’s table. “How may I call you?”

The man regarded him for a moment, then smiled as if conceding something. “I am Grian,” he said, his eyes gleaming with a curiosity that seemed to burn brighter than the moon above.

What an odd name. He thought.

“Sir, may I ask for yours?” Grian asked. The newcomer was strangely polite.

“I’m Scar, the sheriff of this town, at your service.” He replied with a hint of pride in his words and while putting his old dusty hat to his heart.

The sheriff could not shake the feeling that this Grian person was more than he seemed. There was something about the way he spoke, the way he held himself, like he was a man who was used to being the center of attention, or perhaps more accurately, the one who controlled the attention.

Scar leaned back slightly, letting his eyes sweep the room before focusing again on Grian. “I’m assuming you arrived in town not too long ago.” He said, his voice steady, though his instincts were sharpening by the second. "Just passing through, or…?" He did not want to come off as too confrontational, but he could not let this go.

Grian’s eyes narrowed. “Why so many questions? Do I need a reason to be here?”

Scar did not like the way the short man was avoiding the question, but he kept his tone level, careful not to give away too much of his suspicions. "No reason at all, but it just seems like you’ve arrived at an inconvenient time, that's all. A man with your... presence, you'd be hard to miss in a small town like Redwind." He paused, watching Grian's reaction carefully.

“You flatter me.” The newcomer replied with a smirk. “You seem troubled, is there something up?” He asked. The man sounded genuine but Scar still stayed alert.

“There has been a murder.”

Grian looked surprised. “Oh- I see. I swear I have nothing to do with that murder. I just arrived.” He seemed a little nervous. Grian was definitely hiding something but judging by his reaction to the news, the sheriff was starting to believe that it did not directly involve the murder.

Satisfied for the moment, the sheriff stood up. “I believe you. Just stay out of trouble while you’re here.” He saluted him with his hat and said, “Welcome to Redwind”, before leaving the saloon.

As Scar made his way out, he could not shake the feeling that there was more to Grian than he was letting on. The strange man's reaction to the news of Jimmy's death, his nervousness despite his confident demeanor, it all felt... off. But for now, the sheriff had no proof, and there were more pressing matters to address.

The night air was dry and cool as Scar stepped outside, his boots kicking up dust with each step. He glanced up at the stars, the vast sky above giving no answers, only silence. The town of Redwind felt suffocating in its stillness, as if it was holding its breath, waiting for the next tragedy to unfold. And with the tension between Redwind and Littlewood building, Scar knew that time was running out. He could not afford to let anything slip through the cracks. But for now, he needed well deserved rest. The sheriff stretched his arms and yawned before making his way toward his little house. He lived right over the sheriff’s office with only a bedroom, a living room and a tiny bathroom.

Scar removed his hat and sat on the bed. He took off his leather boots and sighed. Hopefully, with a good night sleep, things would appear clearer.

[flossietcoeur]

This is currently the only story I’m proud of. I wrote it for a final project in my writing class. It’s a Genshin au story featuring original characters of mine but you can understand it without any knowledge of the game. I added a few doodles of the characters for the heck of it.

Tw: Torture, mention of blood, domestic abuse

The Song Burning in the Embers

The Inazuma Beach was calm and the sun was about to be swallowed by the red-tinted sea. The waves crashed gently on the golden sand and the last rays of sunlight made the rocks shine. A man stood straight as a woodpecker, his platinum hair waving in the wind. His emerald eyes were lost in the landscape, observing some distant memories. His hard face was covered in freckles and a lock of purple hair covered his nose. It was also hard to miss the countless scars covering that face tanned from long days under the sun. His name was William, but the people of Inazuma called him Kotachi. He was a wanderer wearing samurai armor and a funny hat. Nobody knew where he came from. No one knew the rage that inhabited him.

Kotachi took off his navy blue hat and placed it on a rock. Then, he removed his gold-decorated kitsune mask and his round glasses with orange-tinted lenses. Next, he untied the knot on his obi belt and carefully removed his black and blue kimono, revealing thick bandages covering his torso and stomach. Finally, he took off his blue tights and black sandals, keeping only his short hakama pants on.

The mysterious man began to leisurely walk towards the sea, first dipping his worn and dirty feet into the cold water. Then his legs, and then his waist and soon his torso, until there was water on his chin. He took a deep breath and dove. Kotachi closed his eyes and let himself be lulled by the current. Doing this reminded him of his childhood. He lived in a town almost submerged by the ocean. Despite living alone and being extremely poor, he was happy there. He could go wherever he wanted and if he was hungry, he could fish.

One day like any other, while it was raining on the normally bustling city now transformed into a ghost town by the rain, little William found himself in front of a majestic faded stone building with enormous blue windows projecting strange turquoise reflections on the cobblestone street. This building was called the House of the Hearth.

As the boy stood there, mesmerized by the beauty of the architecture of the house, the door suddenly creaked open. A gust of wind blew through the entrance, sending raindrops splashing against the walls. In the doorway stood a beautiful woman, her face was as pale as the moon, looking down at him.

“Come in, my boy.” The woman's voice commanded respect, but there was a hint of warmth that strangely reassured William. Slowly, he moved forward, his footsteps echoing in the walls of the entrance. The corridors were enormous and the windows impressive. There were chiseled columns that extended up to the ceiling at least 20 meters high. As William walked deeper into the building, he couldn't help but feel like he was being watched. He was not wrong, because little children's eyes were observing him in the shadows of the furniture. Indeed, the House of the Hearth was an orphanage. The woman suggested he stay at the Hearth and William agreed. He immediately felt at home there. Although, there is something that the general public is not aware of. This building was not just a shelter for orphans, but also a recruitment place for the Fatui. The Fatui were the arms and eyes of the Tsar of Sneiznaya, diplomats, spies and soldiers. The House of the Hearth focused primarily on the spy branch of the Fatui, training children in various subjects. Those who stood out were recruited. William had come to be noted for certain skills he possessed but, unfortunately, he was unable to fight. So the Tsar himself decided to teach him.

It was at that moment that his life became a real nightmare. He was moved to Sneiznaya where it was bone-chilling cold, to a building even more majestic and imposing than the orphanage. In this cold stone palace he met Koldun, the Tsar of Sneiznaya. He was a strict, violent man and even colder than the climate. He trained the boy days and nights until he was exhausted. William's only comfort was a friend named Jason. Jason had been adopted by Koldun and was also training in swordsmanship. They were very good friends, sharing everything together. They played in the snow when they had free time and stayed late to watch the colorful lights dance in the dark sky. Jason said that it was where his parents were, dancing among the stars.

Obviously, even this bit of pleasure could not last. When the two boys began to master fencing, the Tsar made them compete against each other and unfortunately for William, Jason was much better than him. Every time he lost, Koldun punished him severely. He hit him, tackled him, cut him... If he dared to complain, Koldun became even more violent. Then the man left him in his cold and dark room. Alone, he cried all the tears in his body. Every day he got another scar. And Jason… he knew it. He knew what was happening, but he did not do anything. He watched him being dragged through the darkness of the corridors, without flinching. William began to hate him. He hated him from the bottom of his heart. He wanted to hurt him. He wanted him to suffer as much as he did. He wanted him to die. Then, one day, Jason disappeared. No one could find a trace of the now grown boy. So, William set out on a quest to find him and take revenge. He traveled from Sneiznaya to Mondstadt, which was about two weeks of walking through snow and mountains. The only thing keeping him from giving up was the image of Jason lying in his blood. To fall asleep, William repeated his name over and over again: Jason Lonitsera, Jason Lonitsera, Jason Lonitsera, Jason...

Finally, after a long journey, William found himself face to face with Jason, on the large stone bridge leading to the town of Mondstadt. Finally, he could carry out his revenge! He removed his sword from its sheath and announced himself loud and clear. He expected Jason to lunge at him. Instead, the man stood frozen, staring at him with his blue eyes. This only made William more frustrated. He attacked Jason with all the force of a mad man, blinded by rage, like a storm, repeating to himself “die, die, die!” Despite the frantic and even almost desperate movements of a man whose only reason for living was revenge, his adversary remained icy calm. He blocked every shot with the precision of a professional. He was obviously much more talented and strong than William, yet he made no attempt to attack. He remained on the defensive, instead trying to disarm his former friend. William's blue blade ended up falling to the ground, but that did not discourage the man. He raised his fist high and crushed it with all his might against Jason's right cheek. Then he started again in the stomach, and then in the ribs, until the man fell. What followed was a rain of blows coming from everywhere. He did not look like he wanted to stop, but Jason did not move an inch. Enraged, William screamed “DIE, YOU MONSTER! DIE FOR WHAT YOU DID TO ME! I'M GOING TO KILL YOU!” He tried to provoke a reaction in Jason, but his opponent remained impassive. After a moment, William grabbed the collar of Jason's white tunic and spat, "Why are you standing still like that? Defend yourself!”

Jason looked at William straight in the eyes and said, “You’re my friend.” Suddenly, something gave way in the enraged man. As if suddenly he woke up from a dream. Overwhelmed by a mix of rage and confusion, he stopped attacking his opponent. The sudden kindness in the icy blue eyes of his opponent was making him seethe. It was like pouring poison into the injury. Where was all that kindness when he needed it the most? But William was so shook by words that he did not expect coming from his arch enemy that he did not know how to react. “I'm sorry.” Jason continued. “I never wanted to hurt you. I'm sorry I was too afraid of Koldun to save you.”

The man felt tears forming in the corner of his eyes. Feeling overwhelmed by conflicting feelings and refusing to show weakness in front of Jason, he finally let go and left without a word. Before William disappeared, Jason stood up and said quietly, as if he had read his thoughts, “Don't feel bad for what you did, I hate myself too for abandoning you.”

It was after this event that the white haired man decided to travel to Inazuma to begin a new life, or perhaps it was to escape from all his problems. He wanted to forget his rage, to forgive Jason and move on, but even in that moment when he found himself immersed in the water of Inazuma's oceans, he continued to dream of the death of the man in the white tunic. Finally, he opened his eyes and rose to the surface. Returning to the beach, he noticed another man there, practicing with his long scarlet spear. As he got closer, he saw a young nekomata - half man, half two-tailed cat - with black hair and piercing vermilion eyes. He thought he recognized Lieutenant Mira Florent and bowed.

“Lieutenant Mira Florent.” He said politely.

“Kotachi.” Replied the lieutenant, bowing in turn.

“I'm surprised you remember my name.”

“It is my duty to remember all the names of the people I must protect.”

William's eyes focused on Mira Florent's spear. It appeared to be more of a ransor than a spear and must have come from Mondstadt. It was painted blood red and appeared well maintained.

“Are you interested in it?” Lieutenant Mira asked.

“Oh, I'm just curious. Is it a good weapon?”

“What do you think about testing it?”

“What do you mean?”

“I was just training and I see that you also have a weapon.” The nekomata gestured with his head towards William's katana.

“Oh, I see…”

It had been a while since he last used his weapon, so he agreed to the practice duel.

The two adversaries bowed and took a defensive position. Mira Florent attacked first, heading straight towards Kotachi. William barely had time to avoid it when the nekomata jumped into the air, the tip of its ranseur shooting towards its opponent. The platinum-haired man blocked the blade and pushed it to the left. It went straight into the sand, two steps away from him. The lieutenant dislodged his weapon and tried another blow, the red blade forming a semi-circle in the air. William avoided him by jumping back and preparing to attack, he jumped on a rock and threw himself at the lieutenant, making a deep movement from right to left with his katana. Mira Florent blocked the attack with the staff of his weapon and pushed the blue blade forward, causing Kotachi to stumble and fall to the ground with his sword. Once again, he had lost. He hated losing. The man growled and grabbed his sword to throw it angrily towards the cliff. It went a little further into the beach.

“Do not be frustrated.” Mira Florent tried to reassure him. “You have undeniable talent for fencing but you do not seem to be trained in using a katana. Where are you from? The Konda Village?”

Kotachi sighed.

“No matter where I come from, I always remain less talented than you.”

The lieutenant sighed in turn.

“You are truly defeatist. Without seeming too... judgmental, it seems to me that you lack concentration in your attacks and judging by your reaction to losing, I believe that if you are so... if you lost, it is because of your anger. It is not a good guide for a man who wishes to perfect his talents. A good samurai keeps a cool head during a fight.”

“How do you do it then? Because I don't understand anything about it.” William replied, a little annoyed.

“Why are you angry?”

“Because I have no fighting skills.”

“Why does this frustrate you?”

“Is it really important?” Kotachi said dryly.

Florent sighed and the wanderer felt bad. He sat down on a flat rock and apologized. The nekomata also sat down and removed his copper mask that covered his lower face, revealing a large scar on his right cheek.

“All my life, I have had to fight to survive. I even lost a friend. He died just for wishing to be free. He died so that I could make this wish a reality. You should know that I was adopted by the Mira clan. Well, despite the kindness of my father, Master Mira Tankosha, a stranger is not welcome on the Inazuma Islands. I then had to fight to find a place in this world. Sometimes I look at the stars and think that this world is not worth saving. There is so much hate around me that it is hard not to hate it back. Mira Florent pointed to the sky. Then I look at the White Tiger constellation and remember that I made a promise to my friend. No matter what happens to me, I must continue to fight for what is right, so that no other boy has to die for wishing one day to be free.”

William was silent for a moment.

“How do you manage to live with this pain?”

“I simply live.”

William was confused.

“What do you mean?”

“There is no miracle enchantment to heal the wounds of the heart. You just have to keep living one day at a time.

One day at a time…