danisfra

[danisfra]

Chapters: 16/16 Fandom: Original Work, making the most of afterlife Rating: Teen And Up Audiences Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings, Graphic Depictions Of Violence Relationships: Robert Bernardi & Vincent Bernardi, lucas Santos & Vincent Bernardi Characters: Robert Bernardi, Vincent Bernardi, Alexander Galanis, Lucas Santos Additional Tags: Guns, Magic, Blood and Injury, Background Character Death, Implied/Referenced Torture, Ghosts, Italian Mafia, VINCENT IS NOT A GOOD PERSON, lucas is too good of a person, Crimes, Fireworks, incorrect use of fireworks, Robert is tired, and they were roomates, Comedy, title may change, Family Drama, casual mentions of murder, bullying the elderly, idk anymore, Is not as bad as i make it sound, Supernatural Elements, Goes Without Saying, Crack Treated Seriously, Cover Art, Possession, Major Character Undeath, Not Beta Read, lots of swears Series: Part 1 of making the most of afterlife (the series) Summary:

It's ridiculous how many times he has to repeat this simple fact, but he'll do it again. No matter how much the mosquito insists, he's not dead!

The old man said as much, even if it was more of a threat than a reassurance.

He would know if he was dead. It doesn’t matter if his heart is not beating, if everyone ignores his existence, or if his hands keep going through things...

He's not dead; in fact, he's more alive than ever!

And he'll make sure everyone remembers that.

[danisfra]

the boys are celebrating 100 hits on ao3!

and what better way to celebrate than with some delicious greek food made by your worst enemy?

dont worry its not poisoned (or cursed).

thank you so much for 100 hits, its like a dream come true. just las t year this story was a small idea bouncing around in my head and now its 30,000 words long. and a lot more to come, keep suporting and i will make sure you get the entretaiment you deserve. thank you so much! love you all <3

artist is @maristar_drawings on insta. please follow her, shes criminally underrated.

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 9 <<<< >>>>

Vincent woke up with a start, his head felt like it was stuffed with cotton and everything around him was spinning, so he closed his eyes, willing the room to stop moving, taking a deep breath, holding it for a moment, then letting it out he deemed the world still enough to open them again. Instead of the ceiling he’d woken up to since he was 8, he was staring at a starry sky, the moon right at the center of it illuminating his surroundings in a pale white light. His brain hadn’t caught up to him yet, so his only thought was ‘weird.’

tearing his eyes from the nightly view, he took his surroundings in. Anywhere he looked, he was met with dirty old wood, it was everywhere, the walls, the door, the hole he was staring at the sky from. After painstakingly moving his head to the side, he noticed the floor was the same but also covered with the remains of what looked like mud. Narrowing his eyes at the sight, he fought with his cotton-filled head to remember how he got there. then it hit him, the chase across the forest, separating from the group, the footsteps leading to a battered shack, and that weird spell made by the old man… The old man! Vincent shot up from his place on the floor but regretted it once his nausea came back with vengeance, making him not move a muscle until it died down again. Groaning, he cursed the old man as much as he could without aggravating his head. after enough time passed, he stood on shaky legs doing his best not falling and hurting his already injured pride. Where the hell is he? He better not just have disappeared after that whole shit show. It was clear he was alone in the room, which somehow made it even creepier than before if it was even possible. He's not in the mood to play hide and seek with the old man. Looking for his greying ass is going to take all the patience he already ran out of. And that was if he was still in the house, if the old man escaped while he was unconscious and was already far away, He was not sure if he could keep his body count still in cero. Wait, he was unconscious. How did that happen? He doesn't remember getting hit or injected with something and it couldn’t have been the light. Checking his head and arms for any injuries he finds them intact. meaning the effect of the weird light show was to knock him out (and make him dizzy, but anyone would be at least a little disoriented after getting the equivalent of a lighthouse's worth of light in your face) to give a chance to the old man to escape. What a stupid plan, but something right up the old man's alley, wouldn't expect anything else from someone 20 years late for retirement. He thought, completely ignoring the fact he fell for the stupid plan. Stupid plan or not the old man still dared to mess with him, and the consequence of such is death. If the old man is not in this house, he’ll just go to his dad and make sure the old man gets a nice little gift of cinderblock shoes and a trip to the beach. With his next move already in mind, he sets out to exit the rotting shack. After just a few steps in, he pauses when hearing footsteps approaching. The heavy creaking of the boards ruled out an animal, meaning they could only belong to a human, specifically a certain restaurant owner. He perks up, looks like he won't have to wait too long for his revenge. Reaching behind him to grab his gun left him grasping at air, his gun not in the place it was supposed to be. Then a flash of his gun flying out of his grip when his wrist got cuffed crossed his mind. hurrying to find his weapon, he was unaware of the turning doorknob behind him. Vincent paused his search to cover his eyes from the light flooding the room, he turned to the beam's origin, realizing it wasn’t one but two and that they were coming from flashlights pointed at him by two mobsters.

chapter 9 <<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

[danisfra]

Reblog if its ok to spam you with boops

[danisfra]

You can spam boop me!

reblog if you let people spam boop you

[danisfra]

Reblog if your blog is boopable-safe so you can get all the (probably new) achievements. I don’t care about notes I just want boops

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 8 <<<< >>>>

The trail ends here, the footsteps stopped long ago but there was still a trail of broken branches and dirt-stained trees he could follow, and it all leads to this place. A broken piece of garbage with four walls that could barely be called a shed, much less a house. He swears that by every splinter he gets, it’ll be another shot.

He won’t be here long, at least he hopes so, it's just turning the old man into a cheese grater and leaving, shouldn’t take too much time. and on the bright side he finally has the chance to shoot someone, at his shooting practices he’s only got to shoot those cardboard cutouts of persons with points that take the joy out of it. Guns are made for killing! Not poking holes in cardboard, it's just a waste of bullets. Well, right now there won’t be any wasting bullets, giddiness overcomes him as he nears the shack, in his excitement reaching to grab for his gun, but leaving it there after some thought, giving the old man a false sense of safety sounded more appealing. Going to open the rickety door, he notices it won’t budge. trying the handle leaves him with the same result. Not a problem, locked doors are only a suggestion to him, one asking if he should respect other people’s privacy, to which he always answers no because if he’s not getting any privacy nobody will. Looking closely at the door doesn’t give him more information about the door than what he could already see, it’s a door, it's old, and made of wood… Breakable wood… What the hell, it's not like it's his first time kicking a door open.

The door gives away making a loud thump when it hits the wall, the force breaking apart the chair on the other side and raising a cloud of sawdust from which Vincent emerges. Waving the dust away, he scrutinized the room he was in, it looked like the remains of what was previously a homey living room, with old furniture scattered around the floor, patches of light coming from holes in the ceiling, illuminating the dust flowing round the cold room, and traces of a stone chimney, but no old man. He heads further inside the shack, the floorboards creaking with every step, the eerie atmosphere within making him uncomfortable, he looks for a trace of a certain grey-headed man. He calls out for the old man, his voice echoing against the decaying walls of the shack. There was silence for a while until a small knocking sound came from further inside, following the sound Vincent did his best to locate which room exactly the noise came from, opening every room he came across, fingers itching to grab the hidden gun, but holding back. When opening one of the rooms, he paused. The room he was in was devoid of any furniture, but that’s not what made him pause it was the thousands of symbols written on the floor right in the middle of the room forming a grand circle, a hole in the ceiling the size of a dinner table illuminating the circle in its entirety, and standing right behind hidden by the shadows, is the old man. “There you are, you sure know how to run old man” Vincent happily states, slowly reaching behind him. When the silhouette didn’t talk, he approached, doing his best to lower the old man’s guard. “I like what you did with the décor, really brings a breath of fresh air to the place.” His words only got a twitch from the shadow. Doubling his efforts, he spoke “You know, hiding in this place isn’t the best idea you could have come up with, and cornering yourself in this room… heh, did you want me to find you that bad?” he finally could make up the old man once he got close enough. He looked terrible, there was mud covering part of his body, and grass stains on his clothes. he was leaning all his weight on his left leg, the right one seemingly busted. He was panting heavily, and had mud all over his hands, apparently what he used to draw the symbols with. He would have laughed if he wasn’t playing the good guy, not yet. he just needs to get a little closer. “You don’t look so good old man,” he looks down at his bad foot “You should probably get that checked out.” “Stop acting like you care” the old man spat out, clenching his fists. Vincent chuckled at him, “you’re right,” he agreed, raising his gun and pointing it in between the other’s eyes, “I don’t.”

There wasn’t much of a reaction from the old man, looking at the gun and then back at him, a serious expression plastered on his face. Vincent frowned. That’s not very interesting, the old man better get his act together soon or he might end him sooner than planned. “no longer afraid of death, old man?” he asked tilting his head,” so you finally realized how pointless it is to run, makes things easier.” “This place used to be peaceful before you came,” huh? What is the old man talking about? “People were living peacefully, no fear of getting mugged, or killed for some petty reason” Wow, he lost it, if he thinks spouting random nonsense is gonna gain him more time, he’s very mistaken. “It’s because of you vermin, that people can’t sleep well at night, it’s because of you, that the kid can’t live a normal life.” “Oh! cry me a river! How the hell is talking so much gonna fix all that?” Vincent complained, already bored. “Just shut up and die” It was fun before, but it got old (heh) fast. Better to end this before he gets sidetracked any longer. He cocked the gun, placing his finger in the trigger, and pressing it. But before the gun could fire something grabbed his wrist, strongly yanking his arm backwards. Making him lose his grip on the gun, the thing grabbing his arm was forcefully dragging him to the center of the circle, he tried to use his other hand to pull himself free, but it was relentless, and upon closer inspection, the thing dragging him appeared like a glowing blue shackle, its chains originating from one of the circles surrounding the sigils. the moment his foot touched the circle another shackle emerged from it, attaching to his other wrist, and pulling it in the other direction. Both chains dragged him downwards until he was on his knees, immobilized except for his head. No matter how hard he struggled, the chains won’t budge. But that was the least of his problems when the sigils flashed, their iridescent glow almost blinding him before the brightness lowered enough to see the old man standing before him, directing a pitying expression at him. “What are you doing?!” Vincent panicked, staring into the glowing eyes boring into him. “Something I must do for the good of everyone” he raised his hands, slowly chanting in a language he didn’t know, enveloping both in a strong current that seemed to come from nowhere. “you’re not going to kill me, right?!” Vincent was desperate, he couldn’t die here! Not now, not like this. He still has so much left to do. So many things to see! “No…” he paused, looking up at the old man. Not knowing what to think.

“I’m going to do something much worse.”

What?

The old man finished his chanting, muttering a soft “I’m sorry” before everything got bright. And Vincent screamed the most guttural and painful scream ever imagined, loud enough to damage his vocal cords, and he still screamed, because it hurt, it fucking hurt. Light was pouring out of his eyes and mouth, his chest burning from the inside. It felt as if every bone in his body was on fire, he was in too much pain to see if his skin was melting or if it all was in his head.

He didn’t notice when he stopped screaming, or when the chains disappeared. He only was aware enough to feel his heart slowly coming to a stop, its beating getting weaker and weaker until it was no more.

And then, everything went dark.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 8 <<<< >>>>

The trail ends here, the footsteps stopped long ago but there was still a trail of broken branches and dirt-stained trees he could follow, and it all leads to this place. A broken piece of garbage with four walls that could barely be called a shed, much less a house. He swears that by every splinter he gets, it’ll be another shot.

He won’t be here long, at least he hopes so, it's just turning the old man into a cheese grater and leaving, shouldn’t take too much time. and on the bright side he finally has the chance to shoot someone, at his shooting practices he’s only got to shoot those cardboard cutouts of persons with points that take the joy out of it. Guns are made for killing! Not poking holes in cardboard, it's just a waste of bullets. Well, right now there won’t be any wasting bullets, giddiness overcomes him as he nears the shack, in his excitement reaching to grab for his gun, but leaving it there after some thought, giving the old man a false sense of safety sounded more appealing. Going to open the rickety door, he notices it won’t budge. trying the handle leaves him with the same result. Not a problem, locked doors are only a suggestion to him, one asking if he should respect other people’s privacy, to which he always answers no because if he’s not getting any privacy nobody will. Looking closely at the door doesn’t give him more information about the door than what he could already see, it’s a door, it's old, and made of wood… Breakable wood… What the hell, it's not like it's his first time kicking a door open.

The door gives away making a loud thump when it hits the wall, the force breaking apart the chair on the other side and raising a cloud of sawdust from which Vincent emerges. Waving the dust away, he scrutinized the room he was in, it looked like the remains of what was previously a homey living room, with old furniture scattered around the floor, patches of light coming from holes in the ceiling, illuminating the dust flowing round the cold room, and traces of a stone chimney, but no old man. He heads further inside the shack, the floorboards creaking with every step, the eerie atmosphere within making him uncomfortable, he looks for a trace of a certain grey-headed man. He calls out for the old man, his voice echoing against the decaying walls of the shack. There was silence for a while until a small knocking sound came from further inside, following the sound Vincent did his best to locate which room exactly the noise came from, opening every room he came across, fingers itching to grab the hidden gun, but holding back. When opening one of the rooms, he paused. The room he was in was devoid of any furniture, but that’s not what made him pause it was the thousands of symbols written on the floor right in the middle of the room forming a grand circle, a hole in the ceiling the size of a dinner table illuminating the circle in its entirety, and standing right behind hidden by the shadows, is the old man. “There you are, you sure know how to run old man” Vincent happily states, slowly reaching behind him. When the silhouette didn’t talk, he approached, doing his best to lower the old man’s guard. “I like what you did with the décor, really brings a breath of fresh air to the place.” His words only got a twitch from the shadow. Doubling his efforts, he spoke “You know, hiding in this place isn’t the best idea you could have come up with, and cornering yourself in this room… heh, did you want me to find you that bad?” he finally could make up the old man once he got close enough. He looked terrible, there was mud covering part of his body, and grass stains on his clothes. he was leaning all his weight on his left leg, the right one seemingly busted. He was panting heavily, and had mud all over his hands, apparently what he used to draw the symbols with. He would have laughed if he wasn’t playing the good guy, not yet. he just needs to get a little closer. “You don’t look so good old man,” he looks down at his bad foot “You should probably get that checked out.” “Stop acting like you care” the old man spat out, clenching his fists. Vincent chuckled at him, “you’re right,” he agreed, raising his gun and pointing it in between the other’s eyes, “I don’t.”

There wasn’t much of a reaction from the old man, looking at the gun and then back at him, a serious expression plastered on his face. Vincent frowned. That’s not very interesting, the old man better get his act together soon or he might end him sooner than planned. “no longer afraid of death, old man?” he asked tilting his head,” so you finally realized how pointless it is to run, makes things easier.” “This place used to be peaceful before you came,” huh? What is the old man talking about? “People were living peacefully, no fear of getting mugged, or killed for some petty reason” Wow, he lost it, if he thinks spouting random nonsense is gonna gain him more time, he’s very mistaken. “It’s because of you vermin, that people can’t sleep well at night, it’s because of you, that the kid can’t live a normal life.” “Oh! cry me a river! How the hell is talking so much gonna fix all that?” Vincent complained, already bored. “Just shut up and die” It was fun before, but it got old (heh) fast. Better to end this before he gets sidetracked any longer. He cocked the gun, placing his finger in the trigger, and pressing it. But before the gun could fire something grabbed his wrist, strongly yanking his arm backwards. Making him lose his grip on the gun, the thing grabbing his arm was forcefully dragging him to the center of the circle, he tried to use his other hand to pull himself free, but it was relentless, and upon closer inspection, the thing dragging him appeared like a glowing blue shackle, its chains originating from one of the circles surrounding the sigils. the moment his foot touched the circle another shackle emerged from it, attaching to his other wrist, and pulling it in the other direction. Both chains dragged him downwards until he was on his knees, immobilized except for his head. No matter how hard he struggled, the chains won’t budge. But that was the least of his problems when the sigils flashed, their iridescent glow almost blinding him before the brightness lowered enough to see the old man standing before him, directing a pitying expression at him. “What are you doing?!” Vincent panicked, staring into the glowing eyes boring into him. “Something I must do for the good of everyone” he raised his hands, slowly chanting in a language he didn’t know, enveloping both in a strong current that seemed to come from nowhere. “you’re not going to kill me, right?!” Vincent was desperate, he couldn’t die here! Not now, not like this. He still has so much left to do. So many things to see! “No…” he paused, looking up at the old man. Not knowing what to think.

“I’m going to do something much worse.”

What?

The old man finished his chanting, muttering a soft “I’m sorry” before everything got bright. And Vincent screamed the most guttural and painful scream ever imagined, loud enough to damage his vocal cords, and he still screamed, because it hurt, it fucking hurt. Light was pouring out of his eyes and mouth, his chest burning from the inside. It felt as if every bone in his body was on fire, he was in too much pain to see if his skin was melting or if it all was in his head.

He didn’t notice when he stopped screaming, or when the chains disappeared. He only was aware enough to feel his heart slowly coming to a stop, its beating getting weaker and weaker until it was no more.

And then, everything went dark.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 7 <<<< >>>>

Time for operation, ‘get rid of these idiots’ to start. Vincent yells at the top of his lungs “This is taking too long!” catching everyone’s attention, “look, this is a clearly inefficient way to look for the old man” he continues as he walks to the center of the group, making sure everyone can see him, “so, let's split up! We cover more ground and save time!” Vincent announces, looking around to check everyone’s opinion (not that he cares).

There were a few murmurs between them, and Vincent thought there would be no complaints until one guy was pushed forward (who glared back at them, before straightening), the bother cleared his throat before stating “It would be dangerous to split, what if something happens to you when we’re not looking” some in the crowd agreed, muttering approvals between each other. the teen, did his best to look like he was open to opinions, while simultaneously cursing up a storm at him in his head. It’s just, who the hell does this idiot think he is? some damsel that needs protecting? He never wanted to punch someone in the face so badly before, but he still had to convince them, and violence would not help right now (he’ll do it later). “there’s a small problem in your logic there” The future punching bag looked confused, so Vincent continued “If the old man gets away and my father finds out, ” he took the gun from the nearest person and pointed it at him, “I will just say it was all your fault, and convince him to throw all of you to the crocodiles” the punching bag shrinks down and hides behind the one who pushed him earlier like the coward that he is. “Besides, I’ll just stay right here, making sure you do your job right!” he added, lowering the gun and continuing with his nice guy act. “So, what do you say?” he looked around, seeing many faces with emotions varying from conflicted to defiant, “I said,” Vincent shot a bullet to the sky, lighting up the dark forest enough for everyone to see Vincent’s serious face “what do you say?” he repeated in a tone that promised pain if answered wrong. Which quickly got everyone on his side, huffing he nodded and ordered “Great. Go.” And they did, taking uncertain steps and looking back occasionally but still reluctantly followed orders, heading further and further into the forest until Vincent was alone surrounded only by trees and the occasional sound of nature. nobody was there to see him heading where he was sure the old man went, careful to avoid the mobsters spreading around the area, avoiding the spots where moonlight filters through the trees, and keeping to the shadows. He tucks the borrowed gun in his waistband, hiding it from view with his shirt. Keeping it as a little surprise for when he finds the old man. Not that it will take long, the man’s old! So old, that he won’t be surprised if he died of a heart attack while running away or broke his hip trying to jump a root. He hopes he’s still alive, if anything’s going to kill the old man, it's him. But first, priorities, he must track down the old man, can’t kill something you can’t find. He knows a thing or two about tracking people, he had a lesson about it. it was something, something, math, the sun, animals, garbage. And… hmm… he can’t remember. Doesn’t matter, he tuned out mostly of what the instructor said anyway. He knows tracking involves looking for clues to where they’re heading, and if what the tv said is right then there must be something like footsteps and other things he could use to find out where the old man went. That’s simple enough, though it is harder without a flashlight to see better. he can use the little light there is to not bump into things, but looking for something as hidden as footsteps is much harder without- oh, there they are. Illuminated by a small ray of light coming from a space in between the trees, there is a trail of footsteps perfectly conserved in the mud. looking long and smeared, as if the one making them was fleeing so fast, they ended up looking that way. The owner was too invested in running to notice the trail he was forming. Heh, that was too easy. it’s almost as if the old man wanted to be found, fine by him then. he follows the trail deeper into the forest, letting out a snort when he arrives at the part of the trail that appears as if the old man decided to take a mud bath in the middle of his escape, nearly doing Vincent’s job before he could even get near, but as nice as it would be to have his job done for him, he’s feeling productive.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 6 <<<< >>>>

Vincent is… confused, he really thought his threat would make the old man explode, but he was not doing anything, maybe it wasn’t the kid he was worried about? Was it actually about the business? Did the old man try to fool him? Weird, he was pretty sure he was right. Right after his threat the man just looked at the floor and hasn’t moved since, he would have thought he died sitting up if he hadn’t later muttered a soft “don’t.”

Oh, good he’s still alive. He has the chance to taunt him some more, hopefully, the old man still has some spirit in him. “don’t, what?” he inquired, crouching to hear him better, “You have to be more clear old man,” he tested the defeated old man, tilting his head. “Did the cat bite your tongue? C’mon, say something” he pushed when there was no answer. “don’t you dare harm him!” the old man suddenly stood up and summoned a sandstorm that surrounded everyone. He heard various shots being fired into the cloud but a yell of “Don’t! You’ll hit the boss’ son!” stopped them.

Alex took the opportunity to escape into the forest, using the darkness to get a head start, he weaved between trees, jumping rocks and tree roots, trying his best to see in the dark (cursing himself at not remembering a spell to help him), and pushing his old body to run as fast as it can, all while paying attention to the sounds around him for signs of any danger. His foot catches on a hole in the ground, making him lose his balance, and fall to the dirt hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Alexander curses as he frees his now sprained ankle out of the burrow and uses this time to think.

If what he heard was right, the monster he was talking to, was the son of someone important. Important enough that if something happened to him it would affect the mob on a grand scale, he hates to do this, especially to someone so young but it’s a sacrifice he had to make to protect the kid and venge anyone who was harmed by the mob. He'll have to make the curse, but for it to work he must make sure the conditions are just right. The man stands up carefully on his uninjured foot, using the trees for balance, and slowly heads forward to look for a place to prepare the curse. Vincent furiously rubs the sand out of his eyes, while screaming to the bunch of idiots who think he’s bulletproof “damn it! What are you doing? Stop him!” when he managed to finally blink all the sand out of his eyes, he sees something that makes him shake with anger, he asks lowly in a dangerous tone “where is the old man?” the others were either at a loss for an answer or looking around as if the old man was just going to appear. One of them approached him, “Sir, are you ok?” he grabbed the idiot’s tie and screeched “Why would I be ok!? The old man escaped! And if you don’t find him, I’m going to make sure you die by my own hands!” using his hold on the tie to get him closer so he can make eye contact, he growled a low “understood?” the fool nodded, straitening up to get away from Vincent’s anger, he announced “everyone! Go after the owner!” before hurrying to the forest, the others following suit. Vincent stayed at the back of the group, grumbling curses at the old man, and trying to not trip on the rocks hidden in the poor lighting. swatting at annoying blood-sucking mosquitoes who dared try to bite him, who is only helping to sour his already irritated mood. He’s keeping up with the rest at a lazy pace, getting more and more annoyed at how slow they were being, could these pawns get any slower?! At this rate, they’re gonna lose the old man! And he sure as hell won’t let that bastard go unscathed, when he finds him, he’s gonna shove handfuls of sand down his throat until his stomach explodes, or maybe hell torture that precious kid of his in front of him, or maybe he’ll... His pace slows down to a stop, wait… that’s right! he was the one doing all the work out there, and he was doing just fine dealing with the old man until the idiots screwed it up with their terrible aim. This means he only needs to find the old man by himself and there’ll be no more obstacles to get in his way, but first, he has to get rid of these wastes of space. He hurries to catch up to the group, deep in thought. Stealing a glance at the gun from the guy in from of him, a plan starts forming in his head.

stopping his limping to catch his breath, he concludes he’s getting way too old for this stuff, but at least his efforts paid off, as in the distance, he can see a run-down shack, one that seems rotten to the core and falling apart in places, but it’s as good as anything he can find in the middle of nowhere.

this could be considered winning the lottery in his situation, especially now that he finally found a place to hide while he puts together the curse. Hurrying to the shack at a snail’s pace lets him examine the construction closer, he can see spots where mold is taking over the walls, and there’s a bird’s nest lying in what he assumes is the remains of a chimney.

Once he reaches the door, he finds it unlocked only needing a small push to open all the way. taking in the interior, the first thing he notices is the many holes in the ceiling, giving the interior a clear view of the full moon, something that he can cross off the list of things to prepare. After closing the door and using a nearby plank to lock it, he gets to work.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 6 <<<< >>>>

Vincent is… confused, he really thought his threat would make the old man explode, but he was not doing anything, maybe it wasn’t the kid he was worried about? Was it actually about the business? Did the old man try to fool him? Weird, he was pretty sure he was right. Right after his threat the man just looked at the floor and hasn’t moved since, he would have thought he died sitting up if he hadn’t later muttered a soft “don’t.”

Oh, good he’s still alive. He has the chance to taunt him some more, hopefully, the old man still has some spirit in him. “don’t, what?” he inquired, crouching to hear him better, “You have to be more clear old man,” he tested the defeated old man, tilting his head. “Did the cat bite your tongue? C’mon, say something” he pushed when there was no answer. “don’t you dare harm him!” the old man suddenly stood up and summoned a sandstorm that surrounded everyone. He heard various shots being fired into the cloud but a yell of “Don’t! You’ll hit the boss’ son!” stopped them.

Alex took the opportunity to escape into the forest, using the darkness to get a head start, he weaved between trees, jumping rocks and tree roots, trying his best to see in the dark (cursing himself at not remembering a spell to help him), and pushing his old body to run as fast as it can, all while paying attention to the sounds around him for signs of any danger. His foot catches on a hole in the ground, making him lose his balance, and fall to the dirt hard enough to knock the air out of his lungs. Taking a moment to catch his breath, Alexander curses as he frees his now sprained ankle out of the burrow and uses this time to think.

If what he heard was right, the monster he was talking to, was the son of someone important. Important enough that if something happened to him it would affect the mob on a grand scale, he hates to do this, especially to someone so young but it’s a sacrifice he had to make to protect the kid and venge anyone who was harmed by the mob. He'll have to make the curse, but for it to work he must make sure the conditions are just right. The man stands up carefully on his uninjured foot, using the trees for balance, and slowly heads forward to look for a place to prepare the curse. Vincent furiously rubs the sand out of his eyes, while screaming to the bunch of idiots who think he’s bulletproof “damn it! What are you doing? Stop him!” when he managed to finally blink all the sand out of his eyes, he sees something that makes him shake with anger, he asks lowly in a dangerous tone “where is the old man?” the others were either at a loss for an answer or looking around as if the old man was just going to appear. One of them approached him, “Sir, are you ok?” he grabbed the idiot’s tie and screeched “Why would I be ok!? The old man escaped! And if you don’t find him, I’m going to make sure you die by my own hands!” using his hold on the tie to get him closer so he can make eye contact, he growled a low “understood?” the fool nodded, straitening up to get away from Vincent’s anger, he announced “everyone! Go after the owner!” before hurrying to the forest, the others following suit. Vincent stayed at the back of the group, grumbling curses at the old man, and trying to not trip on the rocks hidden in the poor lighting. swatting at annoying blood-sucking mosquitoes who dared try to bite him, who is only helping to sour his already irritated mood. He’s keeping up with the rest at a lazy pace, getting more and more annoyed at how slow they were being, could these pawns get any slower?! At this rate, they’re gonna lose the old man! And he sure as hell won’t let that bastard go unscathed, when he finds him, he’s gonna shove handfuls of sand down his throat until his stomach explodes, or maybe hell torture that precious kid of his in front of him, or maybe he’ll... His pace slows down to a stop, wait… that’s right! he was the one doing all the work out there, and he was doing just fine dealing with the old man until the idiots screwed it up with their terrible aim. This means he only needs to find the old man by himself and there’ll be no more obstacles to get in his way, but first, he has to get rid of these wastes of space. He hurries to catch up to the group, deep in thought. Stealing a glance at the gun from the guy in from of him, a plan starts forming in his head.

stopping his limping to catch his breath, he concludes he’s getting way too old for this stuff, but at least his efforts paid off, as in the distance, he can see a run-down shack, one that seems rotten to the core and falling apart in places, but it’s as good as anything he can find in the middle of nowhere.

this could be considered winning the lottery in his situation, especially now that he finally found a place to hide while he puts together the curse. Hurrying to the shack at a snail’s pace lets him examine the construction closer, he can see spots where mold is taking over the walls, and there’s a bird’s nest lying in what he assumes is the remains of a chimney.

Once he reaches the door, he finds it unlocked only needing a small push to open all the way. taking in the interior, the first thing he notices is the many holes in the ceiling, giving the interior a clear view of the full moon, something that he can cross off the list of things to prepare. After closing the door and using a nearby plank to lock it, he gets to work.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

Danny is currently a whopping six years old, and doesn't have access to all his powers. Luckily it'll only last two weeks, and then not only will he be his actual age again, but his powers should filter back too. Unluckily he's having a hell of a time dodging well-meaning adults that keep trying to "help" him by stripping him of his autonomy. Unluckier, his bitchass got cursed into this in Gotham of all places.

It really doesn't help that he's got a child's brain, a child's dexterity, and a child's emotional control.

His only saving grace is that he can, for short increments, use Invisibility and intangibility.

The adults in question that keep trying to help him? Batman, Red Hood, and Nightwing. But they're all trying to do it differently, and he doesn't like any of their methods.

Batman wants to get him to Gotham Child Protection and Permanency, and keeps swearing that he can make sure Danny goes to "good" people.

Red Hood wants him to join a gang of child pickpockets he "trusts", i.e. become the lackey to an ex-crime lord that shoved like, a million heads in a duffle bag.

Nightwing wants to take him to Metropolis, so that the Metropolis Child Protective Services can sweep him under the rug.

Danny disagrees with all of these suggestions. The only Bats that don't seem to inclined to give him any orders are Signal, Robin, and Red Robin, and even then they still treat him like he's an idiot.

But even if Danny does lose it to a few tantrums, even if he breaks down into uncontrollable sobs a couple of times, he manages to keep everything close to the vest. He's never even told them his name, and it's been one whole week.

Well, until now.

Because he got saved from being shoved off of a bridge, and he's clinging to Batman as the man slowly puts him on the ground, and he's hyperventilating, and Batman's asking for his name, and by the time Danny realizes he shouldn't answer that his mouth has already started answering.

Instead of cutting himself off, like he should, his brain scrambles and he lies.

"I'm...Jason. My name is Jason."

With that, he turns invisible and runs.

[danisfra]

oh uh. scuse me. just a lil snail crossing your dash

[danisfra]

This is the magic lucky word count. Reblog for creativity juice. It might even work, who knows.

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 5 <<<< >>>>

He got caught up with the kid longer than he was expecting, but he was still on time to reach his home at a decent hour.

He’ll take the route by the forest to cut time since it’s more hidden, just in case any stray thugs are looking for cash.

It’s easier to hear the sounds of nature by these parts, so he’ll settle, the few light posts on the other side illuminate the path enough to see where he’s going, though with the many wild creatures living in the forest, he doesn’t know if being so close is safe. however, it’s hard to imagine which is more dangerous, a wild animal or a crook who makes people’s lives difficult for a living.

He’s about halfway to his home now, he should call the kid to check up on him once he gets there, just to have some peace of mind (for the both of them).

“Hey! Old man” Alex stops under a streetlight, turning round to find the owner of the voice, spotting a lone teenager, he would have mistaken him for his employee if not for the difference in height, the tone of his voice, and the way he carried himself different like he was overflowing with confidence, something his employee is seriously lacking, his last clue appearing when the teenager got close enough for the light to illuminate him, making it easier to make him out better.

Blue eyes, caramel shoulder-length hair, skin so pale looking that he looked like he’d never seen the sun before, wearing a green, short-sleeved shirt, on top of a grey shirt.

He doesn’t recognize the teenager. The boy looks about the same age as the kid, and assuming by his looks, he doesn’t go out often, so why is he out so late?

“Kid, you should go home, it's dangerous out here” he looked around, missing the twitch on the teens eye. Clearing his throat the younger one stated “That will be difficult old man, I’m looking for someone” When speaking he pulled out a paper from his pocket, and read it out loud “A man named, alexander Galanis, the owner of Kaho paynto.”

“It’s καλό φαγητό, and you’re talking to him” he corrected, frowning down at the kid, who in turn beamed.

“Really? That’s great!” he didn’t get the chance to process what that meant, before he was on the floor, covering the forming bruise on his cheek caused by the punch, and looking up at the kid.

Cracking his knuckles, Vincent grinned before announcing “You’re late on your payments, old man.” He made a hand signal, and the next thing he knew, he was surrounded “You know what that means.”

He should have seen it coming, but it’s still hard to believe that the mob would stoop so low as to hire kids.

This is going too far. “Kid, you don’t have to do this- “a scream interrupted him “I'm not! A kid…” Vincent calms down enough to continue “I’m 18, So an adult. and you, old man, should be careful with what you say.”

“But enough chit-chat, pay what you own old man, and nobody gets hurt” he warned, and extended a hand, waving it up and down in a silent order to ‘pay up’.

“Pay you? How can I do that if you keep taking all my money?” when arguing, he tried to stand up, but seeing the others put their hands on their guns, he decided otherwise. “I’ve got nothing, I’m broke.”

“Ah well that’s too bad old man,” his unbothered expression threatening to break, “hate to do this but,” (he’s lying, this is his favorite part) “we’ll have to take your stuff as payment.”

There it is! the face of someone who knows they’re about to lose everything, this is so much fun! He can’t wait to see what else he can do with a few words. “Which includes that waste of a restaurant you got there.”

The mention of the restaurant seemed to alarm the owner even more. looks like he struck a nerve, “Don’t! Please! Do whatever you want to me but leave my place alone!” he seemed desperate, let’s see what he does when he does…

“I’m off to the old man’s business, you three make sure he’s not a bother anymore” he ordered, pointing at three guards. Vincent then turned to the direction of the restaurant. But he didn’t go far as a grip on his ankle stopped him from going any further, followed by the sound of various clicks, looking back he saw the old man refusing to let go of his leg even with the multiple firearms being aimed at him.

“You leave the kid alone!” he raged, tightening the grip he had on Vincent's ankle.

Kid? …

Oh! So that’s what this is!

he wasn’t worried about the restaurant; the old man was protecting someone! Aww, how noble of him risking his life for some child.

Noble indeed, but also very pathetic, though it got him new ammunition against the old man, so there’s that.

Removing the grip on his foot with a strong yank, he reassured “Hey old man, don’t worry” he said it in such an earnest tone that the restaurant owner, looked up at the teen's face, searching for a trace of remorse.

But only saw a terrible grin stretched across his face, “I'll make sure to take care of him, myself.”

that is not a kid…

that’s a monster!

He needs to keep that thing away from the kid at all costs,

even if he must use himself as bait.

<<<< >>>>

[danisfra]

making the most of afterlife

chapter 5 <<<< >>>>

He got caught up with the kid longer than he was expecting, but he was still on time to reach his home at a decent hour.

He’ll take the route by the forest to cut time since it’s more hidden, just in case any stray thugs are looking for cash.

It’s easier to hear the sounds of nature by these parts, so he’ll settle, the few light posts on the other side illuminate the path enough to see where he’s going, though with the many wild creatures living in the forest, he doesn’t know if being so close is safe. however, it’s hard to imagine which is more dangerous, a wild animal or a crook who makes people’s lives difficult for a living.

He’s about halfway to his home now, he should call the kid to check up on him once he gets there, just to have some peace of mind (for the both of them).

“Hey! Old man” Alex stops under a streetlight, turning round to find the owner of the voice, spotting a lone teenager, he would have mistaken him for his employee if not for the difference in height, the tone of his voice, and the way he carried himself different like he was overflowing with confidence, something his employee is seriously lacking, his last clue appearing when the teenager got close enough for the light to illuminate him, making it easier to make him out better.

Blue eyes, caramel shoulder-length hair, skin so pale looking that he looked like he’d never seen the sun before, wearing a green, short-sleeved shirt, on top of a grey shirt.

He doesn’t recognize the teenager. The boy looks about the same age as the kid, and assuming by his looks, he doesn’t go out often, so why is he out so late?

“Kid, you should go home, it's dangerous out here” he looked around, missing the twitch on the teens eye. Clearing his throat the younger one stated “That will be difficult old man, I’m looking for someone” When speaking he pulled out a paper from his pocket, and read it out loud “A man named, alexander Galanis, the owner of Kaho paynto.”

“It’s καλό φαγητό, and you’re talking to him” he corrected, frowning down at the kid, who in turn beamed.

“Really? That’s great!” he didn’t get the chance to process what that meant, before he was on the floor, covering the forming bruise on his cheek caused by the punch, and looking up at the kid.

Cracking his knuckles, Vincent grinned before announcing “You’re late on your payments, old man.” He made a hand signal, and the next thing he knew, he was surrounded “You know what that means.”

He should have seen it coming, but it’s still hard to believe that the mob would stoop so low as to hire kids.

This is going too far. “Kid, you don’t have to do this- “a scream interrupted him “I'm not! A kid…” Vincent calms down enough to continue “I’m 18, So an adult. and you, old man, should be careful with what you say.”

“But enough chit-chat, pay what you own old man, and nobody gets hurt” he warned, and extended a hand, waving it up and down in a silent order to ‘pay up’.

“Pay you? How can I do that if you keep taking all my money?” when arguing, he tried to stand up, but seeing the others put their hands on their guns, he decided otherwise. “I’ve got nothing, I’m broke.”

“Ah well that’s too bad old man,” his unbothered expression threatening to break, “hate to do this but,” (he’s lying, this is his favorite part) “we’ll have to take your stuff as payment.”

There it is! the face of someone who knows they’re about to lose everything, this is so much fun! He can’t wait to see what else he can do with a few words. “Which includes that waste of a restaurant you got there.”

The mention of the restaurant seemed to alarm the owner even more. looks like he struck a nerve, “Don’t! Please! Do whatever you want to me but leave my place alone!” he seemed desperate, let’s see what he does when he does…

“I’m off to the old man’s business, you three make sure he’s not a bother anymore” he ordered, pointing at three guards. Vincent then turned to the direction of the restaurant. But he didn’t go far as a grip on his ankle stopped him from going any further, followed by the sound of various clicks, looking back he saw the old man refusing to let go of his leg even with the multiple firearms being aimed at him.

“You leave the kid alone!” he raged, tightening the grip he had on Vincent's ankle.

Kid? …

Oh! So that’s what this is!

he wasn’t worried about the restaurant; the old man was protecting someone! Aww, how noble of him risking his life for some child.

Noble indeed, but also very pathetic, though it got him new ammunition against the old man, so there’s that.

Removing the grip on his foot with a strong yank, he reassured “Hey old man, don’t worry” he said it in such an earnest tone that the restaurant owner, looked up at the teen's face, searching for a trace of remorse.

But only saw a terrible grin stretched across his face, “I'll make sure to take care of him, myself.”

that is not a kid…

that’s a monster!

He needs to keep that thing away from the kid at all costs,

even if he must use himself as bait.

<<<< >>>>