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dapper-ships-herself · 5 years ago

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Le Cirque des Désenchantés

Greetings one and all! I welcome you to our humble circus! Look around you at the world outside, be not fooled by the glamorous blanket they will try and throw over your heads. Out there is a cruel world of misery and despair, a place where the downtrodden find no purchase and are left under heel, it is a gem covered in grim and dust. But, must we lay down and weep over this fact? Here, in this tent, we see the world for the way it truly is, and so we add our own color! The world will not give us the luster we seek, so we shall create it for our selves! Join us on this night, where even we can create our own best of all possible worlds!

Allow me to introduce myself~ I am your ringmaster, Voltaire!

I have been told I’m a bit of an optimist, even in the face of this cruel world. I adore this circus with my entire being, having founded it and recruited each member myself. My special ability is called Candide, and it allows me to read the mind of an individual I make eye contact with.

Now, allow me to introduce some of our members~

This man is Martin, a friend of mine since childhood. He’s not actually a performer, but he is essential to us. I suppose you could call him our strategist, he manages much of our back stage and helps keep me in check, This circus wouldn’t run nearly as smoothly without him. He’s a bit of a glass half empty kind of fellow, pragmatic through and through; I’ve tried to tell him he should lighten up a bit more for as long as I’ve known him.

Jane de la Vaudere is our fortune teller. She carries with her an aura of mystique, but she is truly warm and motherly, especially caring to those of us in this circus. Her special ability is called La Sorcière d'Ecbatane, when her left eye is covered, she can see a limited glimpse of a person’s future, and when her right eye is covered she is capable of producing a myriad of fantastic magical effects, mostly harmless shows of light and such that we use in our performances, but she does have a few trickier spells up her sleeve.

Stendhal is our master magician! As talented as he is with slight of hand, he’s an extremely shy fellow. The mask he wears is not only for the sake of his costume, it’s also a sort of security blanket for him, and he rarely takes it off. His ability is called Le Rouge et le Noir, which allows him to control playing cards.

Renee Vivien is one of our performers. She loves luxury and relaxation more than pretty much anything, and adores a good celebration. Her ability is called Le Club de l'Enfer, allowing her to summon a group of tiny devil like creatures to do her bidding.

Gaston Leroux is a performer with us. Mysterious, quite, and aloof, those words work well to describe our precious Gaston. Be not deterred by his mannerisms and general lack of social skills, he dedicates himself in his entirety to this circus and truly cares. His ability is called Le fantôme de l'Opéra, from his body he can secrete an inky substance that he can manipulate at will, and is also able to to sprout eyes within this substance to look around an area remotely.

Rachilde is our beast tamer. Truly a gentle girl, she prefers to lead our animal performers through a kind touch rather than through whips as is traditional. Though she is very kind and gentle, she is not incapable of showing a, shall we say crueler side to herself; this rarely comes out though and only in the face of a threat to our family. Her ability is called Face à la Peur, letting her see her target’s greatest fear and then trap them in a mental space with an embodiment of that fear, the target is physically asleep until either she releases them or they somehow manage to defeat this fear.

Albert Camus acts as our clown. Many people are put off by his face and admittedly very creepy demeanor, but that’s all surface level, inside he is a caring, sweet man who simply wants to make people smile and wishes others could see his intentions better than they often do. His ability is called L'Étranger, which allows him to induce temporary memory loss upon a target, making them a complete stranger to them self for up to a day.

Charles Baudelaire is a dancer for us. Calm and graceful in everything he does, he is quite the fan of teasing his fellow circus members, but it all comes from a place of love truly. His ability is called Les Paradis Artificiels, he can create a special powder which he blows out of his pipe and into the air, effecting the ambiance of an area, usually used to either relax people so they let down their guard, or excite them.

Victor Hugo is our strongman. He is the true definition of a gentle giant, and you can’ help but trust him despite his imposingly large frame. He’s an expert at controlling his incredible strength and is surprisingly dexterous with his hands, he loves to whittle wood as his hobby. His ability is called Les Misérables he is able to blanket an area in apathy, making it difficult for those within to muster up the energy to fight or even move.

And last, but certainly never the least, we have

Gillian, our star acrobat. She is a master of the aerial silks and a sight to see on the trapeze, her balance upon the tightrope leaves audiences on the edge of their seats. She has a penchant for sarcasm and mischief with a sharp smile to match; beyond that, though, she is very easy to fluster with words, the only place she’s never lost her composure is in the air. She adores our circus family more than anything, seeing it as the only thing worth truly caring about for the most part. Her ability is known as l'Essence de l'Humanité, an ability that greatly increases the strength of other abilities; it works best through physical contact, but if she puts her full concentration on an ability user and so long as she keeps that concentration and they remain within her line of sight then it will also take effect.

Dear disillusioned, we hope to see you come around to enjoy our spectacular performance some day, where you can forget your troubles for one night and enjoy an enchanted world~

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So yeah, this is the french group of circus OCs for Bungou Stray Dogs I’ve been talking about for a while now!

They are a very popular performance across Europe, though most audience members have no clue about the, hm, shadier jobs they take low-key.

These authors were chosen either because they’re famous and the first ones I thought of with the prompt of “French authors”, or they are from the decadence movement of French writing, which was a movement characterized by “self-disgust, revulsion at the world, skepticism, delight in the perverse, and belief in the superiority of human creativity over logic and nature”. I thought that fit in with the theme of this being a group of people who have come together after being looked down upon, beaten by, and exposed to the darker parts of the world, they are disillusioned from seeing a perfect world. But they have also decided not to be totally jaded depressos about this, instead for the most part adopting an attitude of “yeah, lots of things suck, but we can have fun together in a little world of our own creation”, which is the circus.

The circus is an extremely tight knit family and they all love each other dearly, all believing that they have to look out for each other since no one else will.

Story wise, I think they enter in between seasons 2 and 3 and would have their own season where they are actually the antagonists. Fyodor wants to continue to poke at the agency and try another approach at retrieving the book before he gets his own hands dirty by becoming more directly involved. So, he approaches Voltaire and tells him about a special book that can make anything come true, and that this book can be used to create the “best of all possible worlds” he so desires for his circus family. Under the guise of branching out in touring, the circus heads to Yokohama, Japan.

I have a bit of a plot worked out from there, but mostly pertaining to how the arc wraps up. This post is getting long, but I’d be happy to talk about that more later~

Anyway, please love my circus children, I worked hard on them.

Picrews: o, o, o, o, o, o, o, o, o

#bungou stray dogs oc #bungou stray dogs #bsd oc #self insert #self ship community #dapper inserts: circus #dapper ocs: bsd circus #dapper ocs: voltaire #dapper ocs: martin #dapper ocs: hugo #dapper ocs: charles #dapper ocs: jane #dapper ocs: stendhal #dapper ocs: renee #dapper ocs: gaston #dapper ocs: rachilde #dapper ocs: albert

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dapper-ships-herself · 5 years ago

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👌

Hugo is tallest at roughly 7 feet

Then there's Martin at 6'0

Voltaire at 5'10

Gaston and Jane at 5'9

Charles and Albert at 5'8

Stendhal and Renee at 5'5

Rachilde at 5'4

And Gillian at 5'3

To @dapper-ships-herself

I’m still working on Haydée’s backstory but I must ask an important question…………..what are the circus members heights? Who’s the tallest? Who’s the shortest? I must know.

#dapper ocs: bsd circus #dapper ocs: hugo #dapper ocs: martin #dapper ocs: voltaire #dapper ocs: gaston #dapper ocs: jane #dapper ocs: charles #dapper ocs: renee #dapper ocs: stendhal #dapper ocs: albert #dapper ocs: rachilde #dapper inserts #dapper inserts: circus #dapper ocs

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is0gild · 5 years ago

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Ice Cream and Fire Oven Pizza - Chapter 3

Pairing: Elsa x Lea/Axel || Side Pairing: Riku x OC

Summary: Modern AU. She's an introvert ball of nerves who works at Ice Palace, a mall food court ice cream shop. He's the outgoing, sassy goofball who works at the Pizza Planet across the way. Hilarity, snark, and fluffy romcom hijinks ensue.

Word Count: 5,841

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

Credit for super friggin’ cute and super friggin’ amazing cover art goes to the super friggin’ talented ky-jane here on tumblr!

I’d done it.

I’d gotten a job.

My very first job.

And I was already regretting it big time.

But really, could you blame me? I’d had to interact with three, count them, three people so far. Would the torture never end? No, because it had only just begun! And those were just my boss and coworkers, I hadn’t even gotten to a customer yet. I was dreading that inevitable moment as it drew ever nearer with each passing second.

Oh, and did I mention the uniform? Because, dear lord, if I’d known this is what I’d be signing up for, I probably never would have applied in the first place. For starters, I had to wear a light blue fitted, long sleeved, off shoulder blouse which, granted, wasn’t that bad. But that was only the tip of the iceberg. It was paired with a black mini skirt that stopped a couple inches short of the knees. Can you believe it? A mini skirt. I didn’t see any of my male coworkers sporting booty shorts, no, they got to be fully covered up in white button ups, blue vests, and black slacks. Talk about sexist!

But a job was a job, and I had to start somewhere.

And that somewhere just so happened to be the Ice Palace - a small ice cream shop located in the food court of a local mall known as Dusk Town Center. The walls of the little parlor were decorated in a jagged, cerulean, semi-transparent plastic, simulating the whole frozen castle vibe. The mascot was Sven the Reindeer, which was actually sort of weird to me. I mean, I get it, reindeers are up where it’s cold and snowy all the time, but weren’t they really more of a Santa thing? I just couldn’t really picture them chilling in a frosty throne room, you know what I mean? But hey, I guess it just gave the marketing team an excuse to sell cute caribou plushies, which were everywhere - dangling from the ceiling, sitting atop the cash registers, filling boxes upon boxes in the back… basically anywhere there wasn’t ice cream, there was a stuffed, huggable, googly eyed little deer.

All in all, not exactly a dream job, but pickers can’t be choosers. Especially when the picker, aka me, had flunked out of twenty-some-odd interviews before finally landing this one. Don’t get me wrong, Rayne and Riku had been great teachers. The problem had been with the pupil. No matter how hard they tried to iron out all my nervous habits and anxiety-induced rambling, a few quirks had still managed to slip through. This had led to no small number of awkward moments and don’t-call-us-we’ll-call-yous. But at last I’d managed to keep it together long enough in one interview to trick someone into hiring the trainwreck that was me.

Just my luck it had to be the frigging food court ice cream place with the stupidly short skirts.

It was my first day on the job. The guy who was training me had left me alone after setting me up with a handful of orientation videos to watch and telling me to come get him when I was done. I was seated in one dark corner of this small room that was part storage space, part break area. Before me was a tiny TV atop a VCR that could only be from the Stone Age. Seriously, I didn’t even know such relics were still in circulation anymore. The videos were just about as dated and mind-numbing as you’d expect. They included one such gem as, now that I was a valued employee of Ice Palace, I wasn’t just a part of team but a family. It also felt the need to cover the obvious, things like don’t be rude, don’t handle the product without washing your hands first, don’t kiss, grope, or otherwise manhandle coworkers or customers, don’t go getting yourself locked in a freezer… you know, things I would never, ever do in the first place, not in a million years.

Suffice it to say, I was bored out of my skull.

That said, this was way better than having to talk to an actual human being. So it probably wasn’t hard to imagine my disappointment when the credits at last rolled on the final tape. Sighing, I rose from my chair and clicked off the ancient television set before turning to face the door across the room. My fellow employee that I needed to check in with now was somewhere on the other side of it.

Where the customers were.

Waiting.

Lurking.

I shuddered.

I then took the opportunity to fidget with my skirt, tugging at the hem a bit.

Note to self: use first paycheck to invest in some tights. This whole bare legs thing just was not working for me.

Ugh, why a mini skirt of all things?! I mean, come on, it was the Ice Palace, shouldn’t we be dressing more the part? I’m thinking Inuit attire, I’m talking fur-lined boots and layers upon layers of thick, fuzzy coats covering me from head to toe. But a skirt? It just wasn’t realistic! If I were in a real castle made entirely of frost, I’d be freezing my rear off right about now!

I then adjusted the black cap with a blue bill atop my head that sported our cursive logo, complete with a teeny doodle of a palace, before tightening my ponytail that stuck out the hole in the back. I’d opted for that over my usual braid. Figured it would make it harder for me to fiddle with my hair when I got anxious.

Unfortunately, I had now run out of trivial (but one hundred percent necessary) ways to procrastinate. Guess there was no putting it off any longer. I slowly approached the door, watching it grow more ominous with every step that brought me closer to it. Halting in front of it, I reached for the knob. But then I stopped, hesitating before retracting my hand and looking back over my shoulder towards a second door on the opposite wall, a green Exit sign glowing over it.

The door to freedom.

Perhaps it wasn’t too late for me to follow my dreams and become a hermit. I could always buy a fake beard. No one would ever know the difference.

My eyes darted back and forth between the two doors, my breath becoming shallow and my heartrate quickening. Then, biting down on my lower lip, I took a step towards that Exit sign and-

“There you are!”

I froze with a wince before turning my back on that tantalizing exit, instead facing my coworker who was now leaning in through the other door. He was tall with brown eyes and his head shaved bald beneath his own cap. A thin, black goatee wrapped around the friendly grin he was shooting my way as he now fully stepped into the room to join me, looking quite dapper in his vest and neatly ironed pants.

I chuckled nervously, clasping my hands behind my back. “Er, yeah… here I am.”

Drat. So close!

“Was wondering if you’d gotten lost, figuring as how you should’ve been long done with those videos by now.”

“Nope, was just… on my way, Lucius.”

“Ah ah!” he chided, waggling a finger in my face before gesturing to his work attire. “When I’m in the uniform, it’s Frozone.”

I blinked. “...Fro...zone?”

He nodded solemnly. “Yup. Because when I’m on the clock, I’m in the zone.” That last word was emphasized with a wide sweep of his outstretched hand before he tacked on dramatically, “The Frozen Zone.”

“...I see.”

He seemed to take great pride in his work.

I wondered if I would ever be that dedicated.

...or if I ever even really wanted to be that dedicated.

“So, um… Mr Frozone… what’s next?”

He jerked a thumb over his shoulder back towards the door he’d come in through. “Figured we could get you up front now, start familiarizing you with the space and equipment.”

“R-really? So soon?” My fingers twitched, reaching for my braid before remembering it wasn’t there. Instead I settled for crossing my arms. “You think I’m ready for that?”

Answer: A big fat no.

“Well, let’s see here.” He started ticking off fingers, “You’ve watched the videos, you’ve had the grand tour, you’ve-”

“No I haven’t!” I said quickly, shaking my head. “Had the grand tour, that is.”

“No? Well alright then.” He stepped past me and further into the room, then stopped and pivoted around to face me, spreading his arms out to either side of him. “Here it is, in all its glory. Just breathe in that majesty.”

This cramped break-slash-storage room was it, apparently. Besides the TV and VCR in one corner, most of it was filled with giant, industrial-grade fridges for housing all the ice cream. Plus a couple of large metal sinks, plus the aforementioned boxes upon boxes of reindeer plushies. Squeezed into one corner was a humble couch that’d seen better days, along with a small table with a couple rickety-looking chairs. A giant bulletin board hanging from one wall completed the look, covered in workplace guidelines, announcements, and different colored flyers.

“Oh.” I pursed my lips to one side. “Very, ah… very majestic.”

“Isn’t it just?” he nodded, hands on his hips as he smiled broadly. “Welp, that’s that. Now let’s get you up to the registers to continue your training.”

I hummed thoughtfully. “Maybe I should watch the videos one more time. Just to make sure, that… uh...”

Reason… reason… dear god, please, come up with a reason, any reason!

“...that I... didn’t... miss anything?”

He laughed. “You’re thorough and detail oriented. I like that.” He planted his hands on my shoulders and steered me towards the door of doom. “Feel free to rewatch those tapes on your own time, but for now, let’s move on.”

“But-”

He gave me a gentle but firm push and I stumbled through the door and straight into my own personal hell.

Alright, fine, maybe I was being a bit over dramatic. There weren’t even any customers in line at the moment. Seemed like it was just after the lunch rush and most of the people had already eaten and cleared out. There were just a couple families left dotting the tables out there in the otherwise empty food court beyond our countertop.

Swallowing my nerves and inhaling deeply to calm myself, I glanced around my more immediate area. I was a bit curious after all, seeing as how this was my first real time on this side of the cash register. But really? There wasn’t much to it. There was a giant frozen display proudly presenting a rainbow of different flavored ice cream. Beneath it behind the counter were some small metal doors that seemed to be some more refrigerated storage space. In one corner was this fancy looking ice cream machine, with stacks on stacks of empty cups and cones beside it. There were some large menus overhead on the back wall and beneath them, a snowman crudely painted onto the door that I had just been so unceremoniously shoved through. Then of course, those plastic “ice” walls and reindeer dolls overflowing from every crook and cranny that they could conceivably be crammed into.

That about summed it up. That, plus the burly blonde guy manning one of the registers that would be my second coworker.

He turned his head, giving me a look that admittedly wasn’t quite a scowl, but wasn’t exactly warm and inviting either.

I gulped and unconsciously took a step back, immediately bumping into something. Looking over my shoulder, that something turned out to be a someone: Lu… erm, I mean, Frozone.

Hand on my shoulder once more, he guided me forward and I took a few reluctant steps closer to the other man. “Elsa, you remember Kristoff from earlier, right?”

I gave a weak nod and raised my hand in a tiny wave. “H-hi again.”

He only continued to fix me with a dull stare.

“Oh yeah, you two are going to be fast friends, I can already tell,” Frozone beamed. “Now Kristoff here is going to be taking over your training and showing you the ropes up here. There’s a new shipment in back that I should get to sorting out, but just give a holler if you need me.”

“Wait!” I snatched at his sleeve as he turned to leave through the back door. My eyes darted from him to Kristoff and back before I whispered, “Do you really have to go?”

I had actually been growing comfortable around him. He seemed nice.

This Kristoff guy on the other hand seemed, erm… how should I put this… shall we say, grumpy?

Frozone chuckled, tugging himself free of my grasp and patting me on the head. “I’m flattered, girl, but I’m a taken man. Honey is the light of my life and trust me, you do not want to get on that woman’s bad side.”

“Wha-?” I blinked a couple times. “No, that’s not what I-”

Annnnnnd there he went, calling a cheerful, “Have fun, you two!” over his shoulder as he disappeared into the back.

Sighing, I turned to face Kristoff and was greeted once more by that same deadpan expression.

Oh yeah. So much fun.

Taking a cautious step towards him, I cleared my throat and rubbed my left elbow. “So… that Frozone… really seems to take his job seriously, huh?”

“...don’t even get me started,” he said flatly.

So he speaks.

Barely.

I tried again. “What do I call you? Kristoff okay? Or just Kris? ...Kristo?” I was met with total silence. “...Oh, maybe that’s already short for something, like… Kristopher? Kristofel? Kris...toforos?” Mayday! Mayday! I was beginning to enter nervous babbling territory. Send help. “Or perhaps, oh! Do we all get theme names? Like Frozone? What would yours be? Are you the, uh… hmm, the, um… the Iceman?”

Face unchanged and dead serious, he said at last, “Oh yeah. That’s me. The Iceman. I love ice. Ice is my life. I eat, drink, and breathe nothing but ice. At night, I go to my ice house, eat my ice dinner, tuck myself into my ice bed, and cuddle with a bag of ice like it’s a teddy bear.”

“...really?”

If possible, his eyelids drooped even further. “No.”

“Oh.”

I knew that.

He heaved a soft, grumbling huff. “Kristoff is fine. Let’s go, new girl.”

He left his station behind the cash register to walk over to the display housing the frozen tubs, slapping a hand down on top of the chilly glass. “Ice cream,” he explained dryly. He then bent down to open one of the metal doors below, pulling out what appeared to be a plastic wrapped, solid bar of sugary sweetness on a stick. “More ice cream.” He tossed it back in with the rest just like it, kicking the door shut. He then picked up a rounded, steel utensil. “Ice cream scoop. You know how to use one, right?”

“Ah,” I brightened. “Yes, of course!”

“Congratz, you’re at least as competent as a four-year-old.”

Hey now, rude.

Returning the scoop to where he’d found it, Kristoff then walked over to the giant machine in the corner. As I approached it as well, I began to appreciate just how much of a monster this thing truly was with all its buttons, switches, levers, and tubes on it. It was actually kind of intimidating. What on earth could they all even possibly do?

“Combo soft serve/milkshake machine,” Kristoff continued on in his bored monotone as he planted an elbow atop the thing, leaning against it. He pointed at a big lever on the left over one tube. “Ice cream.” Next at another big lever, this one on the right over a second tube with some sort of gizmo sticking out of it. “Milkshakes.” His index finger shifted down to three large buttons running down the bottom right corner in front, first indicating the top one. “Turns it on and off.” Then the bottom button. “Flavor swapper.”

“And this one?” My fingers drifted towards the middle button.

“No touchy,” he lightly swatted my hand away. “That one makes it angry. And trust me, you won’t like it when it’s angry.”

I tipped my head to one side. “...why would there even be a button like that?”

He shrugged, intoning airily, “No one knows.”

I quirked an eyebrow at him, then shook my head, my gaze returning to that monstrosity of a machine. “What about all those other levers and switches on the side?”

“Woah, slow down, newbie. You gotta learn to crawl before you can walk. For now, just stick to the basics. Ice cream. Shakes. Off and on. Flavor,” he pointed to each one in turn again as he listed them off before giving me yet another dull look. “Am I going too fast for you? Maybe you should be writing this down.”

It was my turn for some eyelid droopage. “I think I got it.”

“Good. You’re ready for your first customer then. And as luck would have it,” he pointed past me, “here he comes.”

“What?!” I spun around on my heel. Some guy had just entered the food court on the opposite end from the Ice Palace, but was making a beeline straight for us.

Panic mode initiated. Hands? Clammy. Face? Blanched. Heart? Pounding. All systems a go.

“Relax, new girl.” Kristoff slapped me on the back, forcing a tiny oof out of me. “I know this dude, we all do around this place. He and his girlfriend are mallrats that’ll spend hours here, visiting all the stores and making friends with everyone. You should have no problem. Total training wheels.”

His words did nothing to ease my growing nerves and I must have been doing a terrible job of hiding it because he snorted, “You’ll be fine. Just step up to the register.” He waved a hand towards it.

I swallowed hard, then numbly walked over to it.

“Smile,” he pointed to his own grin that he now had plastered on for show, looking remarkably strange on a man I had seen zero emotion from all day. I forced my own smile and he flinched. “Ehh, maybe not so much.” I toned it down a bit. “Better. Now just say, ‘Welcome to Ice Palace, how may I take your order?’ and the rest should be a no brainer.”

Easy for you to say, buddy.

Taking a small shaky breath, I looked away from him and towards the customer once more just as he closed in on the counter. He had bright blue eyes, brown spiky hair, and a huge grin that just about literally split his face in two.

Okay, Elsa, you can do this.

“Welcome to Ice Palace, how…”

Oh fudge, I’d already forgotten the line! My mind was drawing a complete blank. The blankest of blanks.

“...uh…”

Panic, panic, panic!

“...how… you… order?”

Hi, yes, one stammering idiot at your service.

I heard the smack of Kristoff’s facepalm before he whispered under his breath, “Eh, close enough.”

Seemingly unfazed by my mental malfunction, the guy just continued to flash those pearly whites. “Hey there, could I get two bars of the Paopu Paradise ice cream please?”

“Ah… y-yes, right away!” I darted over to the frozen display case, picking up one of the scoops and reaching for the sliding glass door in back. However, I froze when I heard a throat clearing and turned to see Kristoff jerking a thumb towards the freezer space below.

...oh right, bars. He’d said he’d wanted bars of ice cream. Fumbling to put the scoop back, I bent down to open the cold door, located the stack labeled “Paopu Paradise” and snatched two off the top before straightening back up and thrusting them proudly over the counter into the customer’s face.

Another throat clear.

I glanced at Kristoff again, who mouthed the word ‘munny’ at me.

...minor detail.

“Er, yes… that’ll be, uh…” I stared down at one of the plastic-sheathed ice creams, spinning it around by the stick, as if looking for the price tag.

Kristoff groaned before tiredly commanding, “Cash register.” I hastily moved to stand in front of it once more. He pointed to one of the keys. “Push that one.” Done. “Now that one and that one.” Done and done. A munny total appeared on the register’s little black screen and he gestured for me to go on. I read off the amount and the customer, still sunny faced as ever, handed me the munny. To my credit, I only flinched slightly when the cash drawer noisily popped open, allowing the munny to be deposited.

After slamming it back shut, I looked to Kristoff again, worrying my bottom lip between my teeth. “Now?”

He closed his eyes and gave me a solemn nod.

Feeling my muscles relax slightly, I turned back to the customer, offering him his two ice creams once again.

“Thanks!” he chirped, taking them both in one hand and ripping the plastic off one before immediately chomping down hard into the frozen treat, making me wince.

Jeez, this guy must have had the teeth of a viking!

After swallowing the bite, he licked his lips and eyed me curiously. “You’re new, right?”

“Gee, how did you ever guess?” Kristoff deadpanned. I merely turned my head to narrow my eyes up at him.

Ignoring the comment from the peanut gallery, the guy offered his free hand to me. “You’ll probably be seeing me around a lot, so figure I should introduce myself. I’m Sora! Nice to meetcha!”

I hesitated before taking his hand gingerly and shaking it. “...Elsa. A pleasure.”

He froze mid-lick of his ice cream bar, blinking at me. “Elsa?” Lowering his snack a little now, he cocked his head. “Hey, you just moved in with Riku and Ray, didn’t you?”

My head rocked back at that. “How did you-?”

“Stalker,” Kristoff stretched the word out in a low singsong.

Sora’s eyes widened. “Wha? No, no, I know Riku! He’s my cousin and my best bud! He’d mentioned renting out their spare room to an old gal pal of Ray’s and that you were going through a bit of a rough patch, that’s all!” That blinding grin was slowly returning. “Hey, if there’s any way I can help out too, just let me know!”

“Oh.” My brow furrowed. “Uh… thanks…”

...you complete and total stranger.

“Don’t mention it! We’re friends now!”

Ah. My mistake. We were friends.

Apparently.

“Anyway, gotta run,” he waggled the second unopened bar slightly, “Kairi’s waiting for me and she’ll murder me if I let this melt! See ya around!” He waved good-bye to us over his shoulder as he walked off, happily slurping away at his own ice cream. I found myself absently returning the wave, one corner of my lips twitching up.

That guy? Bit of an oddball. But he seemed sweet.

“Not bad, newbie,” I heard Kristoff say as he poked the bill of my Ice Palace cap down, making it cover my eyes.

“Really?” I asked, righting my hat and looking up at him. Surprise of surprises, he was actually smiling.

...okay, it wasn’t so much a smile as it was a faint tightening of the mouth. But hey, I’ll take it.

“Not great, either,” he shrugged. “Not even remotely. But it’s a start. You’ll get better at it as you go. Now let’s cover-”

“Yo, Kristoff!”

Recognizing Frozone’s voice, we turned to see him poking a head out the door to the back. “Could you give me a quick hand with moving a particularly heavy box?”

“Sure thing, be there in just a sec,” Kristoff called. Frozone (gah, it will never not be weird calling him that) nodded before disappearing once more.

My insides shriveled somewhat. “You’re leaving me by myself up here?”

He gave my arm a light, reassuring pat. “I’ll be real quick, promise. It’s dead right now, so you probably won’t even have to deal with a single customer before I get back. If you do, don’t worry, you’re a natural. Just take their order, easy-peasy. And if you need help, tell the customer to wait a moment and come get me.”

I once again was reaching for my braid. It once again was not there. “What if they don’t want to wait a moment?”

“Just tell ‘em we’re out of whatever flavor they want and say ‘Let me see if we have any more in the back.’ Got it?”

“I guess so…”

“Good! Be back before you know it.” He jogged off and out the door, but a second later, he was leaning back through it again. “Remember, you say…” he twirled a finger sideways, prompting me.

“...let me see if we have any more in the back?” I ventured in a tiny voice.

He gave me a thumbs up. “Perfect.” Then he was gone again.

I moved to stand at the counter once more, inhaling and exhaling slowly. “Let me see if we have any more in the back,” I repeated, muttering it softly to myself as I eyed the food court warily.

He was right though, it was basically a ghost town out there. Everyone had already eaten for lunch and had all probably packed themselves back into the various stores by now. Plus it was a weekday. Thank goodness my first day hadn’t been on the weekend, I most certainly was not ready for the stampede of shoppers that would have come with that! As it was right now, there were only a few folks out there milling around for an afternoon snack and luckily none of them seemed to be craving ice cream. So I could maybe relax… at least for the moment.

Today… actually wasn’t going too bad so far. The job itself didn’t seem all that terrible. I was getting along with my coworkers, even that Kristoff fellow. He’d acted all tough at first, but seemed actually somewhat friendly underneath that cool exterior. I’d even helped my first customer! And with minimal mistakes, no less!

Maybe… maybe I could actually do this!

Okay sure, was I still a bit of a tangled ball of anxiety inside? Yes. Would I continue to be with each new customer? Oh, without a doubt. But with time, maybe, hopefully, it would lessen? At least somewhat?

A girl could dream anyway.

Regardless, I was doing it. The whole independence thing. Taking control of my life. I still had a long way to go, but this little ice cream job was the first small step. If I could do this, then maybe, just maybe there wasn’t much I couldn’t do. It wouldn’t be easy, and there was still a lot more for me to figure out. Like, a lot more. But I could and would. I just needed to believe in myself.

Feeling just a bit more on the chipper side now - an emotion that I hadn’t truly felt in a long time - I glanced around the food court again, really taking it all in this time, especially the other brightly colored restaurants that formed our neighbors.

There was The Big Olive, which served greek food. Currently a woman with heavy lavender eyeshadow and thick brown hair tied back into a long ponytail with curly fringe stood behind the register, idly flipping through a magazine. Then there was a chinese place called Mushu’s Kingdom with a cute little red dragon at the tail end of the logo. Next, there was Beast Burgers. I’d thought Kristoff cranky, but the big, hairy guy working there at the moment made Kristoff look like a cuddly puppy. Right beside that was a Cajun/Creole-style restaurant called Frog Legs, followed by a place called Sugar Rush, which looked like it served mostly pastries and any other sweet that wasn’t ice cream. Judging by the several large signs they had up, they seemed particularly proud of their cinnamon buns, which looked to be more frosting than bread.

Then there was a Lucky Cat Café, which was basically a coffee empire that had a shop located practically on every last street corner in the universe. I recalled that’s where Riku had purchased my mocha from the day I had officially moved in with Rayne and him. He’d probably bought it from this exact one that I was looking at right now. The mall was only a couple short blocks away from our apartment after all, which made it extra convenient that I’d managed to get the job here.

At that moment, I could see a woman with shoulder-length blue hair working the register while her coworker, a younger guy with short, messy blonde hair, blended a frothy drink nearby. They both were wearing green visors with felt feline ears sticking out the top. The blonde gave the grey cat with stripes perched atop their muffin display counter a quick pat on the head as he passed it by to reach the awaiting customer. It was only when I saw the creature’s tail twitch that I realized that was an actual living, breathing cat. Huh. A pet? Kept in the food court? How odd. It must have been very well trained. Probably just napped in that single spot all day, every day.

Last but not least, directly across the way from the Ice Palace was a Pizza Planet, its green logo sporting a giant, round pizza pie with a Saturn-like ring wrapped around it. It tied neck-and-neck with our ice cream parlour for most over the top decorations. The interior was designed to look like the inside of a UFO and was littered with toy rocket ships and little green alien squeeze-dolls everywhere. Stationed at the cash register was a girl with short raven hair, clapping and cheering her coworker on.

Said coworker was a tall, lanky guy who, like his fellow employee, was decked out in a dark grey polo with red trimmed sleeves and collar, accompanied by a pair of black fingerless gloves and khakis underneath his black, snuggly-tied full-body apron. His long, wild crimson hair trailed down past the nape of his neck and spilled out in spikes over his open-topped red visor. He was grinning cockily as he spun not one, but two massive discs of pizza dough, one on each index finger.

He tossed one up high into the air before catching it and starting it spinning on his fingertip again. Then he was using some sort of wizardry to send the dough half rolling, half flying across his shoulders as he swapped the other disc to his left hand, freeing up his right to catch the first saucer of dough just in time and keep it whirling, much to his coworker’s delight.

It was as he was giving one of the circular slabs of dough another toss up that he seemed to realize he’d gained a second audience member. His eyes shifted to meet mine and then widened as his whole body locked up. The disc still balanced on his finger spun off and toppled to the ground.

As for its airborne twin?

Splat!

Right on top of his head, covering his whole face.

A very unladylike snort escaped me, followed by a burst of long and uncontrollable laughter that I tried to smother behind my fingers. I was still laughing when he lifted the dough enough to peek one eye at me, expression unreadable as he slowly raised his other hand in a small twitch of a wave.

My giggling, along with my heart, abruptly stopped as I gasped, paled, squeaked and ducked down behind the counter.

...I’d laughed at him.

Oh my god, I can’t believe I’d laughed at him!

Heart thudding in my ears now, I stayed in a low crouch in my hiding spot, trembling hands gripping the edge of the countertop above me as my tongue dried to literal sandpaper.

Had he heard me laughing? Had he seen me laughing? What am I saying, of course he saw! That’s why he’d waved!

Oh dear lord, what did the wave mean? Was it an angry wave? An ‘I see you laughing at me, jerkface’ wave? A ‘How dare you mock me thusly’ wave? A ‘You have besmirched my honor, villain, now we must duel to the death’ wave? No, no, no, I didn’t know how to duel! What kind of duel would it even be? Pistols at dawn? I knew nothing about using a frigging pistol! Or any gun for that matter! I was dead! I was toast! I was-

Wait! No! Stop! Get a hold of yourself, woman! Gah, calm down and stop letting your imagination run wild with completely ridiculous notions!

I screwed my eyes shut, breathing in deep through my nose and holding it as I counted to ten before releasing.

It had probably just been a normal wave. A ‘Hello there, yes, I’m a dork who drops pizza dough on my head’ wave. He probably wasn’t mad, nor did he want to seek vengeance in blood. He was probably now just standing there, confused by the crazy weirdo who’d dived for cover behind her counter like she was in a war zone under enemy fire.

Alright. Time to pull myself back up. This was salvageable. Just stand and… I don’t know… wave back? Yeah, that sounded like a plan. Okay, you got this.

My legs tensed as I prepared to stand once more. In three… two…

What’d I’d failed to consider, as I’d be learning in two frightfully short seconds, was that there was another possibility. Another string of events that could have and, in fact, were set in motion the moment I’d dropped into hiding. That instead of just staying behind his own counter, the redhead had gotten curious about my odd reaction and had decided to take it upon himself to investigate. Therefore, he’d announced to his coworker that he was taking his ten, allowing him to leave his little pizzeria and cross the food court on a course heading straight for the ice cream shop directly across the way.

I have to wonder… and I mean really, really wonder… what were the odds?

The odds that he’d stop in front of the counter right across from where I was concealed.

The odds that he’d be leaning over it to look down at me exactly as I was springing back up to stand.

The odds that his lips were positioned just perfectly for my own to come crashing into his as I looked up.

That’s right.

I’d frigging kissed him.

...Hey, universe? It’s me, Elsa. If you’re listening, now would be a really great time for me to spontaneously develop the ability to rewind time by, say, I don’t know… thirty seconds so I can make completely different life choices.

...No? Not happening?

Well fudge.

Author's note: BEHOLD! There, at long last, having traded his spinning chakrams in for spinning pizzas, is our favorite Fire Boy! Or rather… there his lips are anyway… hehehe… xD Trust me, the fun is only beginning, you're in for one rollercoaster of a ride with this story!

So here we finally get the main setting for a majority of this story - what is basically the universe of KH transformed into a mall xP So many stupid little references will abound in the chapters to come, I'm sure you'll get sick of it! And I know Frozone/Incredibles isn't in KH, but that is a travesty which I had to correct by including him in this fic! I mean, c'mon, he's perfect for working at an ice cream shop alongside Elsa! As for Kristoff, I know he's normally a big ol' softie, but don't forget he had his whole tough guy routine when he first met Anna at the beginning of the movie! And as you can see, he's already starting to warm up to Elsa. And all the food court restaurants and faces (yes, even the cat) this chapter were KH/Disney references, some might be more obvious than others tho… but if any were too vague, Elsa will get to meet a lot of them in the chapters ahead so that should clear 'em all up! Oh, and ice cream flavor names! I'm not gonna miss an opportunity to steal all those ice creams from BBS, but come on, this was Sora, so OF COURSE I had to make up something that was Paopu flavored for him! I imagine the description of the Paopu Paradise flavor on the menu is something like: "Made with real Paopu fruit straight from Destiny Islands with little star sprinkles swirled in! Legend has it if two people share this ice cream, their destinies become intertwined."

In any case, on to the more pressing question… how will our lil ball of nerves Ice Queen handle this mortifying "greeting" with her new redheaded friend that she has yet to even learn the name of? Hope you stay tuned to find out in the next chapter! Thank you so much for reading!

FIRST CHAPTER || PREVIOUS CHAPTER || NEXT CHAPTER

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sweetbitterbitten · 5 years ago

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thank you everyone who wished me a happy birthday! though i have drafts on the back burner (half of them longhand written already, i’m just a lazy bum about typing them up) my autumn lassies are in the mood for small to middling length replies, if any would be up to interaction from these dapper dames:

irene adler; con artist, good time gal

au modern jane eyre; monster hunter who is followed around by her dead best friend from boarding school

thomasin phillips; modern witch, child of satan, queen bee of the popular clique of her prestigious and pedigreed school. don’t be fooled by her size, she is sheer terror.

melancholia aka miss lonely hearts; american gods oc, literally the goddess of loneliness. owner of the heartbreak hotel and bar. she wallows in others sadness, rips open old wounds so the poison can pour out, and release reached. sometimes she stays longer than she’s wanted, sometimes she’s the security blanket people can’t let go of. she can be both cruel and kind, jaded and oddly optimistic. she’s both the hurt and the healing.

#ooc ;; {confessions from the coffeehouse}#rp interactions

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tilltheendwilliwrite · 8 years ago

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Soft Names, Soft Touches

Chapter Ten

Previous Chapter

Pairing: Bucky x OC | Word Count: 4.9K+

Warnings: Angst. Russian that may or may not be correct.

Sitting at the bar, Franki played with the rim of her glass. The martini she was drinking wasn’t going down well, not with the nerves that filled her belly. He’d be back today, tonight, and she wondered what Bucky would think of her costume. It was by far the most risqué thing she’d ever worn, and Natasha had squealed for joy upon completion.

She’d done it for Bucky, but now that she was here, it seemed to attract way too much attention of the male variety, and she’d escaped to the VIP section that Tony had reserved for the Avengers to congregate when the regular crowd grew taxing.

Only Stark would have what basically allotted to a nightclub on the uppermost level of one of his buildings. It was rented out occasionally for functions and events but usually sat empty, just waiting for another one of Tony’s wild parties to get underway. She didn’t mind it most of the time. The windows overlooked the city, and she could easily escape outside or back to their section of the tower if the people got overwhelming. She was Reaper after all. It wasn’t exactly difficult to disappear.

But tonight Franki had drawn a host of unwanted attention and no matter how cold she’d been in her rejection the men just kept coming on to her. Stupid outfit. What had she been thinking?

Running her finger around the rim of her glass, she sighed. She’d been thinking about Bucky and the way he would look at her. How his eyes would darken, and a smirk would twitch his lips. How he would pace towards her with that sultry murder strut of his, something Nat had once referred to as panty dropping that her sestra had then had to explain. Franki could now say with certainty that, yes, it most definitely was. She was growing heated just thinking about him stalking towards her with that powerful stride and focused gaze.

“Hey.” Steve sank down beside her and smirked a little grin at her outfit. “I guess I can see why you’re hiding.”

“Steve!” Franki nearly launched herself at him, throwing her arms around his neck and squeezing tight. “You’re back!”

Stunned, he gave her a short hug and nodded slowly. “Yeah, just.” When she sat back, he grinned brightly. “Well, that was a surprise.”

It was for her as well, and she blinked a couple of times before a smile twitched her lips. “Perhaps you should go away more often?”

“Hey! That ain’t very nice.” But he couldn’t help but grin. He gave her a sharper once over and could see the hollowness beneath her makeup, the startling clarity of her collarbone, and the circles that darkened her eyes. She looked, for those who wouldn’t know better, like she’d been sick. But he wasn’t about to say so, not when she appeared so excited. “Dance?” he asked instead, nodding towards the floor that had a few couples out on it. The music was decently slow, and he really wanted to see Bucky’s face when his friend got a load of her.

He held out his hand, and Franki hesitated to touch it. Her reaction to seeing him after so long had been all instinct and had bypassed her inner demons because she knew if he were here Bucky wouldn’t be far behind. But she had touched him once, without fear, without her skin crawling, without even flinching, and she reached for his hand slowly. Once they touched, she shivered, but the panicky sensation never came, and she smiled while tightening her grip. He was Steve, Cap, the leader of her team and bleyy rystra’, a name that truly fit him tonight. “You’re looking quite dashing, Sir Rogers.”

His fingers closed around hers, and he laughed as he tugged her to her feet, unable not to notice how terribly cold she was. “Was this your idea or Nat’s?” He was decked out like a knight from the round table complete with a sword hanging from his hip and a shield slung across his back.

“Joint effort,” she smiled, following him to the dance floor where he spun her, causing her costume to swing wildly around before it settled and she took his other hand.

He didn’t try to put his hands on her waist or back, not wanting to push his luck, and drew her into to a gentle sway that kept her back to the doors. “So, what’s been happening here since we left?” Shadows flickered in her eyes, but before he could comment, she was talking about time spent with Tony and all she’d learned in the lab.

“You turning into a tech geek on us, Franki?” he teased.

The blue-eyed blond smirked at her and made her chuckle softly. “I’ll leave that to Tony.”

“That’s good,” Steve glanced past her to where Tony was surrounded by a flock of women. “You pick his outfit, too?”

She snorted and shook her head. “He is channelling his inner rock star. Apparently, all that takes is a Metallica t-shirt and a glass of scotch.”

“Sounds like Stark,” he snickered. “What about Sam?” He’d yet to see what the Falcon was coming as. By the grin that split her face, he knew it would be worth the wait.

“Let’s just say… it was a no-brainer.” She smiled softly, shrugging one shoulder.

A small disturbance caused him to glance towards the doors, and he smirked when he murmured, “What about Buck? You pick his costume?”

“Natasha did. I was not allowed a say,” Franki pouted.

He chuckled softly, drawing his eyes off his best friend stalking slowly through the crowd. They parted before him, and Steve could see why. He looked dangerous, debonair, and classier than he’d ever seen Buck look. “Looks like she did a pretty good job,” he murmured and spun her around.

Franki locked in on him quickly and gasped. He looked amazing. “Bucky…” she whispered.

Steve released her hands but not before he noted how they warmed almost instantly. Everything about her lit up, and she appeared to glow. Happiness just radiated from her. Looking to Bucky, his friend having paused in his stride to stare in shocked wonder, he could see nearly the same thing happen to Buck. The sallow skin and hollow, despairing eyes simply disappeared when he looked at her. What the hell was going on? Dr. Cho couldn’t arrive soon enough in his estimation.

Bucky swallowed hard around the lump that had appeared in his throat. He’d zeroed in on her the moment the doors from the elevator had opened. How could he not? It was like he was drawn to her from across the room and when enough bodies had cleared to see her dancing with Steve, he’d smirked a small grin because she was wearing a red hooded cape that fell to the floor. Then, Cap turned her around, and he’d felt his libido storm into life. Lord… have… mercy.

A white peasant blouse hugged her upper arms leaving her shoulders and neck bare. A black corset over a deep red dress showcased her tiny waist and lifted her breasts to swell in gentle mounds. The dress flared at her hips over what appeared to be inches of crinoline that fluffed it out into a full skirt that barely fell to mid-thigh. High white stockings with black bows ended a few inches below the bottom of her dress, caressed her toned legs, and flowed into black Mary-Jane’s. He had a flash of memory, his mother in her Sunday best with shoes precisely like that.

Shaking his head, Bucky looked back up to her face and started forwards again. Her beautiful hair was curled tighter than usual, heavy ringlets pinned up and around her face, falling in long waves over her shoulder and down past her cape. Someone had pinned the hood to her hair for there was no way it was that gravity-defying. It was a crushed velvet that shimmered and moved with her, caressed her bare arms, and swung at her ankles, but it was her face he focused on. Her eyes were enormous, darkened with liner and heavy shadow, a bright blush coloured her cheeks, and her lush red lips had been glossed, so they glistened in the shifting lights of the dance floor.

His hands were reaching for her when they came together, one lightly touching her mass of curls, the other going around her waist. “Are you rationed, doll?” he murmured.

Tracing her hands down his chest, a slow smile filling her face, Franki shook her head. “You still have not explained that saying.”

Chuckling, he leaned closer and whispered in her ear, “Are you taken, baby?” Her shiver went unseen, but he could feel it through his hand.

“Da,” she breathed against his cheek. “By my Winter Solider.” The rumbled growl that rolled in his chest set her swaying into him.

Lifting his head, he looked down on sultry silver eyes. “Moya zvezdochka, I missed you.”

Reaching up, she stroked his stubbly cheek. “I missed you too, snegopad. So much.” The sun had returned to her life, and she basked in its glow.

The sweet and pure and wholesome he’d left behind returned with the gentle touch of her hand. “You look…” he had no words to describe how fucking hot she was. “This shouldn’t be legal. You make one sexy red riding hood. I get why Nat left this now.” Digging inside his jacket, he pulled out the half mask that looked like a wolf’s silhouette, narrow eyes and short pointed muzzle that would cover his nose, and the pointed ears that arched up over his forehead. “Guess this makes me your wolf.”

She chuckled softly, looking him over. He wore an exceptionally nice suit, classic cut in a style he would have been familiar with as it had a very forties air. Black with a red tie and pocket square over a white shirt, he matched her well. Taking the mask from his fingers, she slipped it over his eyes and reached to tie the ribbon at the back of his head. “Is there ever a story where Red ends up with the wolf?”

“Don’t know,” he murmured, eyes closing as her hands drifted over his face adjusting the mask. “Perhaps tonight we’ll find out.”

Dropping her hands back to his shoulders, Franki couldn’t help but smile a seductive little grin. “Tam moy volk.” Was a wolf meant to look so dapper? His eyes opened on glacier blue that seemed to look right into her soul.

There’s my wolf… Her words made him grin. Leaning down again, he placed his mouth against her ear and whispered, “YA zhelayu, chtoby poglotit' vas.”

I wish to devour you… She moaned softly, a sultry groan, for his words lit her on fire, right up until the moment when her stomach growled. “Oh!” Franki gasped, blushing in embarrassment.

He pulled back to smirk down at her and noticed for the first time how much paler she appeared, how her collarbone protruded from her way more than he remembered. He’d thought the narrowness of her waist was just the corset she was tied into but now… “You hungry, baby?”

“Starving.” She was suddenly ravenous. “Tony hired Marco as his caterer tonight,” Franki said as Bucky led her away towards the buffet.

Standing on the stairs to the VIP section Nat, Tony and Steve exchanged concerned looks.

“You all saw that right?” Natasha murmured. “I wasn’t just seeing things. They both changed, physically changed, when he touched her, right?”

Steve nodded slowly, “She went from ice cold to warm as soon as she caught sight of him.”

“Dr. Cho will be here in a few hours. Hopefully, she’ll be able to figure out what the hell is going on with them.” It worried Tony. If it were something detrimental to them both, it would destroy both Bucky and Franki. “They looked at each other and everyone else just… ceased to exist in their world.”

“She loves him,” Natasha sighed. “God, Steve…” Shaking her head, the woman dressed as a pirate turned towards the bar. “You didn’t see her after you left.” Both men turned questioning eyes her way, and she bit her lip. Telling almost felt like betraying her sestra’s confidence, but… “I found her on the floor in Bucky’s room after you left. She was a mess. Kept muttering in Russian about the cruel joke fate had played. That she’d finally been allowed out of the dark and into the light only to have it torn away. I don’t think she even knew I was there for the longest time.”

“Jeez! She was there!” The facts finally lined up, and he understood now why Bucky had been so quick to hustle him out of his room before they left. “No wonder he looked like he wanted to kill someone.” Although, that look hadn’t really left his face the whole time they were gone. “He was damn near feral at times during the mission. It was like living with a man who was…” He struggled to find the right analogy.

“Mad with grief?” Natasha supplied.

“Angry with it. Like he was just pissed at the world and everyone in it.” Steve sighed.

“Nah man,” Sam smirked, sauntering up to the group that all looked way too serious for a party. “Poor dude was pissed cause you cockblocked him. That was a man about to get some action, and you interrupted.”

“Dammit, Sam!” Steve groused rolling his eyes. “Mixed company!”

“At ease, soldier. We both know I’ve said worse.” Natasha chuckled. It was always a pleasure to exasperate Captain America.

“And I’ve heard you say worse.” Tony pointed at Steve.

“What? When?” Steve barked, outraged.

“When Thor poured most of that bottle of Asgardian liquor down you and Bucky’s throats!” Sam chortled, laughing when Cap went white. “Only time I’ve ever seen you drunk. Priceless!”

Snickering, Nat grinned at Sam before linking her arm through his. “Well, player, I think you and I should dance. Until Helen gets here and figures out what’s what with the lovebirds, I am going to enjoy this shindig, and I suggest you two do, as well.”

Using the head of his gaudy white, bejewelled cane to tip his overly large purple hat, Sam smirked, “Later, fools!” and led Natasha away murmuring, “Might I say, you make a fine looking wench?”

“Not if you want to keep all those pearly white teeth, pimp daddy.” She smiled sweetly at him.

“Yes, ma’am.” Sam nodded.

Steve watched them both walk away. Natasha’s costume he understood for it was some kind of sexy pirate, but Sam’s had him confused. The sparkly cane, zebra print pants, long purple coat, big purple hat, open front white shirt with all the gold jewelry just looked plain… weird. But Sam seemed to be enjoying himself. Perhaps he’d inquire of Franki later what Falcon was meant to be. She at least wouldn’t tease him about things he still didn’t quite get. She often struggled with random things as well. Like going dutch!

“Well, Tony,” Steve turned to the man left with him. “Anyone here I should know about?”

Clapping his hand on Cap’s shoulder, Tony motioned with his drink. “Let’s schmooze, Sir Capscicle.”

Franki was sitting at one of the pub tables with Wanda, watching Bucky laugh at something Steve had said when the man dressed as Zorro – a persona she was not familiar with – approached her for the third time.

“Look, sweetheart, I think you and I could have a good time. Won’t you give me a chance? They’re playing our song.”

His presence made her skin crawl, and she glared at him, her eyes icy. “If you think third time will be the charm, you are doomed to disappointment.” Glancing at Wanda, she smirked and asked, “What is saying Clint always uses? Ah, yes. You are fishing without bait. The answer is still no.” When he reached for her arm, she was quick to spill her drink on him. “Oops.”

“Bitch,” Zorro hissed, stomping away.

Rolling her eyes, she smirked a little grin at Wanda, the Scarlet Witch, looking every inch the traditional witch that evening – though she was less spooky and sexier. Her philosophy had been hey, if you’ve got it, flaunt it which had made Franki laugh. “I’m going to grab another drink, you want?”

Wanda shook her head and smiled at Vision when he wandered over. “This one owes me a dance!” she said instead and dragged the male away by the wrist. Vision had not bothered to dress up. His view on things being, he wore a costume every day, so tonight he was going to go as he was.

Scott was around somewhere, Professor Pym’s daughter, on his arm, and they had come as police officer and prisoner, something that was terribly funny to them both but Franki had not been let in on the joke. Rhodey had made it, too, his legs getting stronger every day, and with all the tech he was kitted out in he was dressed as some character from some movie she had yet to see. She couldn’t even remember the name only that it started with E. Ely… Elis… Elysi…? She’d ask him another day. Clint had made it with his wife, dressed as cowboys, and Franki thought they looked adorable together. The only ones missing were Thor and Jane, Darcy, Bruce, Maria and Fury.

Getting up from the table, she declined another offer to dance and escaped the hands that reached for her as she headed for the restricted section, tugging her heavy cloak around her shoulders. Sitting with Wanda usually deterred people from getting too close. Her powers were ones that many people still feared, which, quite honestly was the stupidest thing Franki had ever heard. Wanda was so damn sweet. Franki was more likely to kill someone with the tab from their pop can than Wanda was to harm someone with her powers.

“Hey, kid!”

She smiled at Tony. “Stark.”

“You going to give me that dance you owe me?” He was only a little drunk, more like pleasantly buzzed, and she had a debt to pay off.

Chuckling, she took his offered hand. “You sure you can dance? You seem to be wobbling a bit, Iron Man.”

“Bah!” He flicked his hand wildly. “I’d need to drink much more before I couldn’t dance on my own dance floor.” To prove his point, he spun her out, spun her back, and dipped her, making Franki laugh.

Across the room, Bucky watched her fondly. “I can’t believe how well she’s doing. She danced with you and now look at her with Tony.”

Steve also grinned, sipping on his beer. “She hugged me, man. Just jumped up and did it. It was nice.”

“Hands off, pal,” Bucky smirked his way. “I saw her first.”

“Well, technically,” Steve teased.

“Yeah, yeah. Stuff it, punk.” Bucky bumped shoulders with him. Sobering, he murmured, “Sorry, about the last few weeks. I don’t know….” He sighed before shrugging and taking a long pull of his beer.

“S’ok. You do know Tony called in Dr. Cho? Wasn’t just you that was messed up these last weeks.” Steve motioned to Franki with the bottle. “She’s lost weight.”

“I noticed.” And she wasn’t any bigger than a housefly, to begin with. She didn’t have the weight to lose. “She ate like one of us tonight. Plowed through three plates of pasta like she inhaled it.” Bucky chuckled. “I don’t know what’s going on here, Steve, but I don’t like seeing what this did to her.”

“I don’t like seeing what it did to you both,” Steve murmured, placing his hand on Bucky’s shoulder. “You’re not just my best friend, Buck. You’re family. Until we figure this out, I’m here for you. Both of you.”

“Thanks, man.” He grinned and bumped beers with Sir Rogers.

Tony smirked down at the petite woman in his arms. “You’re man’s having a bromance moment with Cap.”

Chuckling, Franki glanced over her shoulder. It wasn’t like it was an uncommon sight. They gravitated towards each other, always had. “Jealous?” she teased, turning back to Tony. He rolled his eyes and huffed at her, making her giggle harder.

“I��d rather romance an avocado,” he quipped. He planned to say more only his watched beeped at him, and Friday’s voice came through clearly.

“Sorry to interrupt, boss, but the hard drive Franki has been working on has finally been decrypted. I thought she’d like to know.”

“Thanks, Friday,” Franki murmured, stepping back.

“Hey! What about my dance?” Tony pouted.

Laughing she shook her head. “I’ll be back in like, twenty minutes. I’ve been fighting with this thing so long I just want to see what was so damn important. Tell Bucky, won’t you?” Turning on her stacked heel, she weaved her way through the throng of people, avoiding as many as she could, and snuck outside to skirt the party. Her palm print got her in the exterior door, and she darted down the hallway back into the central tower where she caught another elevator and headed for the computer lab.

“Friday? What you got for me?” she called out as she flipped the lights on and strode forwards to see the data.

“There are hundreds of files on here, Franki. Most are things we already knew, but… there’s this.”

Files marked Experimental Program W popped up, and Franki threw them up in the air so she could lay them out. Flicking open the main file, she felt her heart stutter when the first three were labelled China, Weapons Program, and Experimental’s.

“Friday,” she whispered, voice hoarse, “Open all files.” They expanded into life around her and Franki brought her hand to her suddenly pounding heart.

“Oh, my god…” she whispered, reading through what had been the purpose of her program, what Hydra had been trying to accomplish. “Find file marked Weapon F.” It opened to show pictures of her throughout her life, video of her training, doctors talking about her suspected mutation. There was a video of her battling the other one like Bucky, and she gasped for it was as horrible as she remembered. It was all there, her whole life, in glaring black and white.

“Open,” she cleared her throat when it broke, “Open file Subject Seven.”

Tears poured down her face, and her hand went to her mouth to hold back the gut-wrenching sob. “Oh, no…”

She read half the file, all the damning words before it became too much and turned away from the images in horror. “I have to go. I can’t be here. I have to go.” Stumbling forwards, Franki ran from the room and headed for her suite.

“Do you require assistance, Franki? Your heart rate and hormonal levels are fluctuating wildly.”

“No Friday,” she choked out, slamming into her rooms. She practically tore the costume from her body, pins flying from her hair when she yanked the cape from her back. She didn’t feel the hair that ripped free, nor did she see it fall to the ground in delicate chestnut curls. She didn’t notice the blood that dripped down the locks as she twisted them up behind her and stepped into her bodysuit, the one garment that offered her some protection from the intense crawling of her skin and the manic depression that was crowding her mind. She didn’t feel her nails tear as she yanked up the zipper, or notice the bloody handprint she left on the wall when she grabbed her beautiful red coat and ran out the door.

She slammed her hand down on the elevator button and practically leapt inside only to realize she wasn’t alone. “What are you doing here? This elevator is for private use.” The man dressed as Zorro leered at her, and she knew an instant of intense nausea when the doors closed and locked them in together.

“Having a rough night?” He sneered, stepping closer. “Maybe you shouldn’t have been such a bitch.”

He snatched her by the wrist, and her heart pounded. “You are going to want to let me go, right now,” she warned him quietly. Everything about him felt foul.

“Stupid whore! Too good to dance with anyone that wasn’t a superhero. Well, where’s your hero now? Huh, bitch?” He forced her into the wall and pinned her there with his body before slamming his mouth down and biting her lips.

She went bone chillingly numb when she tasted the copper of her blood in her mouth. Everything slowed to a crawl. The feeling of something foul, evil, washed over her skin and made it recoil. Then, the force inside her was unleashed, and she plowed her fist into his temple. It drove him straight into the wall of buttons, lighting a bunch of them up, and halting the elevator. Its doors slid open again on the tenth floor. The man lay groaning in the doorway, and she crouched beside him. Pressing her know gloved hand to his mouth she watched his eyes go wide. “I am my own hero. Be thankful I am in a forgiving mood. They do not call me Reaper for nothing,” she hissed before striding away.

The door for the stairwell was right in front of her, and she hit it at a full run. She needed out, needed away, needed time to wrap her head around all she’d just read.

Back at the party, Tony was growing concerned and tapped his watch. “Friday? Is Francessca on her way back yet?”

“Franki is in the process of leaving Stark Tower. She seems upset.”

“What? Why?” he barked, heading for the doors at a run, bypassing the elevators. “Where is she?”

“Tenth floor near the east elevator, heading for the stairs.”

“Tony?” Bucky called out, having followed the man when he’d raced from the room.

“Franki’s running! I don’t know why!” Tony was only thankful she was in the stairwell nearest the party. Slamming through the door on the seventy-fifth floor he leaned over the railing. “Francessca!”

Bucky stared down the deep hole to the face of the woman he loved more than anything nearly seventy floors below. “Franki! Stop!”

Staring up at them, Franki gasped out a sob and jumped the railing. She grabbed the guardrail at the fifth-floor mark to slow her descent and again at the second, before dropping to the ground and racing for the emergency exit. “I’m sorry,” she whispered, knowing he wouldn’t hear her.

There was no hesitation when Bucky thrust himself over the railing. He fell a good thirty floors before snagging the railing with his vibranium arm. It hurt, god it hurt, but he only let go to drop a second time, and a third, before he landed hard, rolled to his feet and raced for the door that was screaming in alarm at being opened. Slamming through, he looked all over for the fleeing red coat… but she was gone.

The door behind him had closed but opened easily when he put his metal hand through it and ripped it from its hinges. “Stark!” he roared from the bottom of the stairwell.

“Get your ass back up here, sunshine, so we can figure this out!” Smacking a hand to his watch, Tony growled out, “Party’s over! Pack it up!” Security would see everyone was escorted out. “Inform the team they’re needed in the control room. Now!” Stalking towards the door as Bucky arrived on his floor, he snarled, “And put someone on the door for the East stairwell. Repairs are going to need to be made!”

“What the hell just happened?” Bucky growled. “Why is she running!?” Why was she running from him?

“I don’t know! Friday!?” Tony snapped.

“It appears the information on the hard drive was rather distressing to her. She left after reading it. Boss, a partygoer, assaulted her in the Avengers private elevator. Should I have security pick him up?”

“Yes!” Tony and Bucky yelled together and stalked into the control room. They’d deal with that later.

“Show me,” Tony commanded and file after file popped into life. Waving his hand, he threw them up so they could spread out and inhaled sharply. “Jesus… it’s her. They’re all about Francessca.”

“What?” Bucky stiffened, reaching out to grab a video file. It just happened to be the one of her fighting the other winter soldier. He sank into a chair and watched silently as the man tried to destroy her. When it was finished, he threw it violently away. “What the fuck is this!?”

Stark plucked out another folder and sank back against the workstation as he read it through. “Barnes…” he murmured. “I know why she ran…”

“Who ran?” Natasha asked, striding in the door, only to freeze in her tracks. “Oh… no… is that…” The rest of the team piled in behind her and spread out, looking at the screens with growing horror.

“Barnes,” Tony said again. Icy blue eyes lifted and he could see the anguish. “They weren’t building more weapons. They weren’t training her to be another soldier like you. They created her… for you.” He turned the file and gave it a shove that sent it floating into Bucky’s lap just as Dr. Cho walked through the door.

Next Chapter

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