kaesera-written - Tumblr blog

kaesera-written · 6 years ago

Text

[CP] Mark of Evil

Faint music played from an old jukebox in the back corner of the bar as Draven entered the building, the soft murmur of chatter blending together into an almost pleasant hum of noise. The place was fairly empty, as usual, with only a few people scattered around the tables and counter; it was something he honestly took comfort in, and the main trait about the small dive bar which kept him returning week after week. At the end of a long work day rounding out an even longer week, it felt nice to be somewhere he actually felt safe outside of his own home.

Making his way to the counter, Draven had a small dance to his step as he caught the quiet lyrics of one of his favorite bands playing from the jukebox, and a gentle smile graced his lips. He settled onto a stool and tapped the counter lightly as the bartender waltzed over, “Get me a cold one, Bruce,” he said, “For once I’m actually feeling good; I think that's a fair enough reason to celebrate.”

The bartender chuckled as he got to getting the drink and raised a brow as he asked, “Something good happened at the store today or what?”

Draven laughed and shook his head, “Oh gods no, today was absolute shit; had this guy come in asking for some obscure band from Finland, yeah? Turned out, the album he was looking for didn't even exist, nor the band, and he was just seeing how far I'd go to find it while secretly filming me to use as content on his dumb prank channel,” he huffed but continued smiling, “Look up ‘I trick an employee into searching for a band that doesn't exist’ when you get the chance. And that was just a fraction of the shit I went through today.”

Well then,” Bruce replied, rather shocked by Draven’s upbeat demeanor. Setting down a beer, he raised a brow as he slid it over to the other man, “If your day was bad enough to get you on WeVi, what’s got you in such a good mood?”

“Absolutely nothing!” Draven replied happily and let out another laugh, “I just feel good!” he laughed a bit more, pausing to take a drink, before adding, “I can't explain it, but honestly, I don't want to. Trying to find a reason might ruin it, and I'd much rather take advantage of feeling great, than chase it off with questions.”

Bruce laughed and shrugged, “Well,” he started, “I guess that's a fair place to stand on the matter, not to mention, a winning situation regardless,” he turned to leave then, waving to Draven as he went, “Welp, I hope you continue to enjoy yourself, Draven. Let me know if you need anything else.”

“Will do,” Draven replied with a non-sarcastic finger gun and a wink before he raised his bottle for another drink.

The night went on from there, and Draven made his way from sitting at the counter to standing by the jukebox to listen to a few songs, to even trying his hand at a few rounds on a claw machine at the back. He didn't win anything, but he still felt good regardless. Eventually he settled at a table near the jukebox and just listened to the music as he nursed his third beer of the night; he had no worry of driving himself home since he didn't drive anyways.

As he sat there watching two guys who were undoubtedly drunk play a game of what could hardly be considered pool, he was immediately aware as a woman came up to his table and set a hand on one of the empty chairs.

“Hey,” she said in a friendly tone, “I noticed you’ve been alone all night and thought I'd offer you some company; mind if I join you?”

Draven smiled up as her and shook his head lightly, pushing up his glasses as he said, “Not at all; be my guest.”

“Alright,” she replied as she pulled the seat out and slid in, “but I'm not tying my napkin ‘round my neck.”

For a moment, Draven was taken off guard by the comment, and just stared at her in confusion, but then smiled and laughed, “Not bad,” he commented, “Would have been better if I had the accent though,” he chuckled.

The woman laughed and nodded, “Yeah, I get that a lot, actually; I just can't help it, every time I hear that phrase it's all I can think of.”

Draven shook his head, smiling, “No, I totally get it,” he told her, “I work in a music shop, and I'm a bit of a music enthusiast,” he explained, “I know quite a lot of song references, and make them every chance I get.”

“I see,” she smirked, leaning on the table, “So if I said something like...oh...Mama Mia-”

“Here I go again!” Draven interrupted and laughed.

She laughed too and covered her mouth as she did, “Well that was more aggressively enthusiastic than I expected, but I'm definitely not disappointed,” she smiled, “How about if I said ‘is this the real life?’”

Draven smirked and snorted, “Aw, c’mon, that one’s too easy,” he said, “It's gotta be something like...you're talking about thunderstorms and seemingly out of nowhere I just belt out, ‘thunderbolts and lightning; very, very frightening- me!’”

“Galileo,” she responded and laughed, “I guess I have a little to learn on reference making,” she smiled.

“Well if you're looking to learn, I’d be happy to give you some lessons,” Draven replied with a smirk.

“Do you offer home tutoring?” the woman asked with a smirk of her own as she shifted closer.

“Whoa!” Draven gawked a bit, “When did we move into innuendo?”

Blinking, the woman pulled back and looked at him, “Shit, sorry,” she said, “Am I being too forward?”

“N-no! No, no!” he replied quickly, “You're fine. I'm fine,” he laughed, “Just, I wasn't really expecting it is all.”

“Yeahhh,” she sighed and laughed a bit, “I tend to jump the gun a bit sometimes. I think it's nerves.”

Draven snorted and nodded, “Oh yeah, I get that entirely,” he told her, “I once proposed to a girl in high school,” he scoffed, “It was our first date.”

The woman burst into laughter at that and covered her mouth, “Oh my lord, you can't be serious!”

He laughed with her and shook his head, “I wish I was joking,” he said, “but unfortunately it's true.”

“Well I'm glad I've never jumped the gun that far,” she replied and took a breath to calm her laughing, “though I do hope she said no…”

“Oh thanks,” Draven scoffed, “That makes me feel good about being dissed and mocked for the remainder of the school year.”

Choking a bit on her own words, the woman fluttered a bit, “Ah, wait, no, I didn't- I mean- I- I worded that-”

Draven held up a hand to stop her and smirked, “I know what you meant,” he chuckled, “and I'm happy to say that yes, she did say no, and no, I don't have anyone else I might be with.”

At that, she smiled, and the two continued chatting for a good while as the two drunk men finished up their game, until finally the woman asked, “Would you like to come back to my place?”

“I'd love to,” Draven replied with a gentle smile, “Lemme just pay my tab and I'll meet you outside, yeah?”

“Sounds good,” she said, “I'll call a Jifty.”

Draven gave a nod and a thumbs up with a click of his tongue before heading to the counter.

Soon enough, he was stepping out of the bar into the cool night air. He glanced around and quickly spotted the woman, smiling as he made way over to her.

She looked up at him as he approached and smiled in return, “‘bout five minutes til’ they get here,” she told him.

“Good,” Draven replied and leaned in to kiss her, she didn't resist, but he stopped as something occurred to him. With a light laugh, he stayed close to her as he softly said, “I just realized we never exchanged names,” he chuckled as she snorted.

“Oops,” she uttered quietly, “Guess we should fix that...I’m Jenna.”

“Draven,” he told her softly, “It’s a pleasure to meet you, Jenna,” he chuckled, “I hope I’m not being too for-”

“Oh, just shut up and kiss me, you dork,” Jenna interrupted him and before he could respond, she shifted and popped up on her tiptoes as she wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in to press her lips to his.

He was frozen for a moment with shock, but quickly snapped out of it and responded to the kiss himself as he wrapped his arms around her. Soon enough they both pulled back for air, and Draven let out a light laugh, “I guess considering how tonight has gone, I’m not the one who should be apologizing for being forward,” he murmured.

Jenna chuckled in return and ducked her head to hide her face, “Sorry,” she said, “I’ve been trying to be more confident lately, but these damn nerves...I guess sometimes I just jump past confidence and go straight into assertiveness…”

Gently, Draven set his finger under her chin and lifted her gaze back up to meet his, “Nonsense,” he spoke softly, “you’re doing just fine. It’s actually really refreshing to meet a gal who doesn’t sink into the roll of being led by a man,” he smiled, “and honestly, you’re probably saving us both time because I’m terrible at getting to the punch in any situation.”

“I hope that doesn’t apply to the bedroom,” Jenna blurted then pulled back and slapped her hands over his mouth, “Oh my gods, I am so sorry! I didn’t mean for that to come out!”

Draven burst with laughter and doubled over, wrapping his arms around himself as his glasses slipped out of place, “Oh my fucking stars, Jenna!” he wheezed as he fought to pull himself back together, “How are you even real? That was fucking glorious; please, never change, good gods, you’re fucking great, the greatest even, oh my fucking gods,” he wheezed again and drew in a deep breath as he finally got a hold of himself and straightened up. Adjusting his glasses back in place, Draven was glad to see Jenna laughing as well, and wasn’t able to help the soft bursts of laughter still bubbling out of him.

Slowly, Jenna got a hold of herself as well and looked at him as she wiped a tear, “I gotta admit, Draven,” she said, “I’m really glad you’re not put off by my weirdness.”

Draven snorted and moved to pull her back into his arms, “Put off?” he questioned, “Puh-leeease,” he laughed, “I’d be a hypocrite if I was put off by a little quirky behavior. I’m the king of strange. Awkward, strange, and ridiculous run through my blood,” he let out another laugh, then a soft sigh as he gently tucked her hair behind her ear, “But in all seriousness, I honestly just don’t judge people on things like that,” he smiled, “Some bad jokes, obnoxious references, badly timed innuendo,” he shrugged, “It’s just personality, and it’s not hurting anyone.”

Jenna smiled at him and leaned into him a bit, “Well, that sure is comforting to hear,” she said, “Both for my personal self value, and for my impulsive judge of you,” she chuckled.

Draven chuckled along then looked over as a car pulled up and rolled down the window.

“Jenna?” the driver asked.

Jenna started to speak but Draven quickly said, “Yep, that’s me,” before she could, causing her to laugh and gently bump her elbow into his ribs.

“You dork,” she snorted, then gave a wave to the driver, who was looking very confused at that moment, and said, “Sorry about that.”

The driver just shrugged and settled back in their seat, “I ain’t judgin’,” they said and motioned to the back with a light cock of their head.

Still laughing lightly, Draven moved and opened the door for Jenna, sliding in after her with a smile. The driver started off as soon as they were both settled and talked just enough to confirm their destination before falling silent and focusing on the traffic. As Jenna pulled out her phone to check a few messages, Draven figured he might as well do the same, but as he finished checking all the new comments that had been posted on the video he was in─and replied to a few of the nastier ones─he noticed that Jenna was still staring at her own phone screen.

Keeping his smile, Draven gave a soft but somewhat dry laugh, “What’s so interesting?” he asked as he slid his phone away.

Jenna glanced at him, then back at her screen, then scooted closer to him to show him the page she was reading, “A new post was made on this blog I’ve been following for a while now,” she told him, “It’s sorta this new movement group or whatever, led by this guy who’s got all these amazing views on how to improve society and the world and everything really!” the excitement in her voice grew in intensity as she spoke, until she was practically gushing about the whole thing.

It was all a bit jarring for Draven, mostly because what she was saying sounded familiar, but he tried to give it─and her─the benefit of the doubt and push his irrational worries back down into the depths of his mind. Letting out another soft, dry laugh, he wrapped his arm around her and gently took her phone from her, “So what,” he started, “You’re in some internet based cult?” he laughed, but it did nothing to hide how anxious he actually was to hear her answer.

She laughed too, however and gave him another light bump to the chest with her elbow, “No,” she replied, “It’s not a cult. There’s no religion involved, it’s just a blog and some really good points and ideals.”

“Not every cult is about religion,” Draven murmured, receiving yet another bump to the ribs.

“It’s not a cult,” Jenna stated firmly, “Just read it and you’ll see,” she motioned, then, to the phone in his hands, “Trust me, you’ll probably love it!”

Draven gave a sigh and nodded as he adjusted his glasses again, “Alright, alright,” he said and shifted a bit before scrolling back up to the top of the blog post. That was all he needed, however as he saw the title of the blog she was on, and with that, all benefit drained out of him.

Really should have known it was too good to be true… Draven thought with a sigh and lowered the phone back to Jenna.

She gave him a curious look as she took her phone back, frowning lightly, “but you didn’t even read it…” she mumbled quietly.

“Don’t need to,” he sighed, shifting gently to pull away from her, “I'm already very familiar with my brother’s preaching,” he huffed.

Jenna gawked, looking from him to her phone screen and back, “Wait, but that means you’re-”

Draven stopped her as he pulled out his ID and showed it to her, “Draven Marosa,” he stated with a huff, “Figure of chaos and source of all evil, right?” he asked, looking at her only from the corner of his eyes.

She frowned as she lowered her phone into her lap and looked down at the text there. It was just silence for a while then, and Draven caught the driver looking at them both in the rearview mirror, their gaze catching with his for just a moment as they gave him a wary but almost pitying look before focusing back on the road.

He focused back on Jenna and waited for her to respond. As her phone screen dimmed, ready to auto-lock, she finally came out of her statue state, tapping the screen with her thumb and scrolling up and down a moment before mumbling, “But you’re so nice…”

A glimmer of hope flickered in Draven’s chest and he shifted, reaching out to set a gentle hand on Jenna’s arm, “You’re right,” he said, “I am nice, and I have no evil intentions. Just because I value chaos and the beauty of free thinking, doesn’t mean I’m some devil figure, I-” he stopped though as he saw the way Jenna was staring at his hand on her arm, as he noticed the tension in her posture and the fear deep in her eyes. Slowly, he pulled away and shifted back to look off to the side, “I’m not a bad guy, Jenna,” he told her, “No matter what the rest of that community says, no matter what my brother leads you to believe; I’m not evil. I’m just...free thinking…”

“But isn’t that just what a figure of evil would say?” the response was hollow; cold. Her voice no longer held the carefree excitement it once did, instead gaining a layer of venomous thorns and jagged ice, “Defend yourself to gain my trust and lead me to corruption?”

It actually hurt, to hear her words, and Draven was unable to speak in response as the driver pulled up to a small apartment building. All he managed to say as they all sat there was a quiet, “Please just give me a chance…”

There wasn’t even a moment of silence as Jenna opened the door and slid out of the car, “I‘m sorry, Draven,” she said, “but I really don’t think I should. It’s too great of a risk, and there’s no telling what damage has already been done. Regardless, I wish you the best, and I hope someday you manage to see the truth.”

With that, she shut the door and headed off into the building, leaving Draven defeated in his seat.

The driver watched him for a moment, then sighed and shifted gear to pull away from the curb, “Where ya headin’ buddy?” they asked.

“Maple Drive,” he responded somberly, “Twenty-six twenty-eight…”

“Gotcha,” the driver replied, “You just relax and I’ll get you there.”

“Thank you,” Draven replied.

“Don’t mention it; we all deserve one act of kindness, regardless of who we are; that’s the teaching I follow.”

A dry laugh escaped Draven and he managed an empty smile, “It’s a good one. If only more people supported it.”

─

Characters:

Draven

#kaesera #character prose #mark of evil #draven marosa #short story

0 notes

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

[WP] Gnarled Tree Park

Attention: The following read contain several heavy topics including environmental destruction, fading friendship, repressed love, and character death, please be warned

This week I went for another first liner and whoo-boy, this one really got away from me. I got pretty emotional while writing this so please do be warned, and I hope you all enjoy it.

Most vivid amongst the memories of his hometown was that of Gnarled Tree Park. Once a beautiful garden set around the base of a large, gnarled tree with bark as white as bone, had been left to ruin some time in his childhood, seen better used as a dump for a neighboring workshop. As he grew into his pre-teen years, the park had quickly become littered with old equipment, scraps of wood and metal, and all sorts of other junk including broken T.V.s and radios, and even an abandoned car.

Rhyan remembered his older sister participating in a protest against the company, fighting to demand they clean up the park and return it to its former glory, but courts ruled in favor of the wealthy, and lawyers were able to stake the claim that due to the fact that the park rested on the same lot of the workshop, the owners had right to do with the scrap of land as they saw fit. After that the fence was put in place, the city deeming the area dangerous private property. For some time, people forgot about Gnarled Tree Park, the land being dismissed as just another scrapyard in a small town being consumed by industrialization.

Come time he entered high school, Rhyan had, too, forgotten the beauty the park had once held. The bright colors of the flowers his sister had shown to him, pointing out by name and listing all they were good for─white was usually a lot in his young mind. Rhyan forgot about the bees he’d watch bumble through the air from bush to flower patch to tree and back around. He forgot about the fountain, buried deep somewhere in the heap that had infested the park. Rhyan forgot it all, until he met Casey.

Casey remembered everything, and Casey was even younger than him. Casey knew what Gnarled Tree Park had meant to those who had fought for it. Casey knew the value that every plant had, and Casey knew exactly to what extent not just that workshop, but all the growing companies were harming the planet. Casey was an environmentalist, but unlike other go-green fanatics Rhyan had met in his life, Casey wasn’t a snob about it. Casey didn’t snap at people for littering or forgetting to recycle. Casey didn’t preach on and on about the benefits of switching to energy efficient power supplies or recycling water, or whatever other “eco-friendly” hacks were out there to shove in someone’s face. Casey just cared. And Rhyan learned that was all that was really needed.

Though he never would have looked at Casey twice had he not been stuck with them for a science project, Rhyan found himself growing very close to Casey, and there were times he was sure that Casey had grown fond of him as well. As their high school career came to a close, Rhyan knew that eventually he’d have to say goodbye to his fond friend. Casey was going off to study abroad and help those in third world countries, while he would be working toward his dream career not too far from their hometown. Casey promised to write, and Rhyan promised the same, but deep in his heart he felt they were both making promises they would never keep.

To Rhyan’s surprise, however, Casey stayed true to their word, and for the first few years of his college career, Rhyan happily looked forward to each and every monthly postcard he received. He always made an effort to write back, but there were many times that work piled up to the point he just couldn’t find the time to write. Casey’s letters never dwindled though, but as Rhyan finished college, he found less and less time to even read Casey’s postcards, and most eventually found their way to a box with all the others, Rhyan making constant mental notes to read the letters in his free time.

But he never did.

Nearly two years had passed before Rhyan realized he was no longer receiving postcards from his friend, and Rhyan came to the conclusion that Casey had simply given up on him, and he really couldn’t even blame Casey.

He couldn’t remember the last time he’d written to his friend, the last time he’d even made any sort of contact with anyone through “snail mail”. Casey was the last person he knew who actually preferred it.

Really, Rhyan was surprised that Casey had kept up so long at all.

Within a month, Rhyan had already forgotten what was missing in his life, until he received an email for his high school reunion.

He hadn’t realized it had been so long already, but that it had, and he felt memories of his high school years returning. He thought perhaps Casey would be there as well, and the two of them could finally reconnect. He thought maybe he should pull out their old letters and finally read them.

He thought maybe he could finally apologize for breaking his promise from so long ago.

That is what he thought.

But as the date came around, Rhyan still hadn’t found the time to read the letters. He’d pulled the out, and there they sat on the counter in their special little box he’d put them in years ago. But he’d yet to sit down and actually open the box.

Still, Rhyan hoped to see his old friend. He hoped to rekindle what they once had and bring back those old feelings. He just hoped to hear Casey laugh again.

At the reunion, Rhyan searched. And he socialized. And he search. He ate food and drank punch. And he search. Rhyan danced off the light buzz he got from the spiked punch. And he searched.

Finally he asked around. Few had clue of who he was speaking of, and others said they hadn’t heard from Casey since senior year. Rhyan quickly found he was one of the only ones Casey had stayed in contact with.

Rhyan was growing ready to give up, when finally he found someone who could tell him where Casey was.

At Gnarled Tree Park.

Why Casey would be at Gnarled Tree Park of all places at that time, Rhyan wasn’t entirely sure, but he was determined, and quickly said his goodbyes and headed out. He chose not to drive. Not just because he was sure he was unfit to do so with the alcohol in his system, but also because a restless nagging was rising up at the back of his mind. He didn’t think he could confine himself in his tiny car for long.

Rhyan walked briskly down the road toward Gnarled Tree Park, thinking back to the news article his mother had sent him a few years prior, about the workshop closing and the park being cleaned up. Surely that was why Casey was at the park. Casey always loved Gnarled Tree Park.

Rhyan picked up into a jog and tried to remember what Casey had talked about in some of the last post cards he’d read. Always just stuff about life and work, and asking about his own. And sometimes talking about the times they’d snuck into the lot to visit the old, gnarled tree, still living strong. Perhaps that was why Casey was at Gnarled Tree Park. Casey knew he’d eventually find his way there as well, and was waiting there for him. Surely that was it.

Rhyan broke into a run, his mind fighting to picture the more recent notes he hadn’t read. Casey always sent postcards, a new one for every message received, some from the same area, some from places completely new, but always unique and always equipped with stapled on extensions and pictures. But something was different towards the end, something that Rhyan had never put any thought into at the time. What was it?

Rhyan sprinted across the empty street, frantically shaping the contents of the box back home in his mind. Some of the notes on top were longer rectangles. Envelopes. Why would Casey send a letter and not a postcard?

Finally Rhyan could see the park up ahead, the old tree silhouetted against the dark sky as a downward wind brought the scents of flowers and water from the fountains. Low lanterns lit only the walkways, casting the park into near darkness on the abandoned street of the dying city, letting moon-blooming flowers grow to their fullest without the disturbance of artificial lights, and allowing lightning bugs to be made out in the shadows around the foliage.

A name popped into Rhyan’s mind as he game to the sidewalk just outside the low, wrought iron gate surrounding the park. A name that had been in the return address of the last few letters he’d received.

Rhyan walked slowly through the park, looking over all the blooming flowers and all the donated art that lined the paths as he made his way to the tree in the center.

Hope Garden Hospital.

A simple stone was placed before tree, rising above the flowers surround a single patch of dirt colored stones all signed by others. Rhyan stared at the seen for what could have been a lifetime, finding difficulty in reading what was written on the stone, but he forced himself to do it. He’d put off reading Casey’s letters for so long. He’d neglected writing back to Casey for even longer. This was the least he could do.

In loving memory of Casey Hope, who fought even when the rest of us had long given up. Gnarled Tree Park and the rest of our beloved city thank you, and will always remember the smiles you brought to us.

In his age, Rhyan has forgotten many things in his life, but the most vivid amongst the memories of his hometown was that of Gnarled Tree Park.

#kaesera #weekly prompt #gnarled tree park #short story #sad #emotional

1 note · View note

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

[CP] DDaHT Pt.3

Sitting on the edge of a fountain in the middle of a shopping center, the boys snacked on their frozen treats, quiet and content and making faces at all the people who looked at them with judging eyes. At least Frasier made faces. Niles was more just hiding behind his ice cream cone...trying to at least.

Sighing, Frasier leaned a bit towards his brother, supporting his weight on his arm as he brought one leg up on the edge of the fountain, “Man, I needed this,” he hummed, “Things were getting much too stifling at school today. I felt like my brain was screaming.” Niles looked at him, frowning a bit in concern, “Did something happen?” he asked. “Nah,” Frasier replied, “but that’s the problem. Nothing ever happens. It’s always the same boring shit all the bloody time. I just want some excitement, you know,” he sighed, “Mum and dad won’t be too happy with me, but I don’t rightly care at the moment.” “Mum and dad are never happy with you,” Niles commented. “Hey now,” Frasier turned on him, but smiled, “Watch it, or I’ll even you up and give you a knock on the other side too.” “Oh stars,” Niles blurted around a mouthful of ice cream, lifting his hand to keep it from falling out, “Is it noticeable?!” Frasier laughed and nodded, “Oh hell yeah,” he snorted, “I gave you a serious bruise. That’s gonna last a while.” “Mum and dad are going to absolutely smother me when they see it. And they definitely won’t be any less upset with you…” “Eh, just say Barney did it,” the older brother frowned, “It was his fault anyways.” For a while, Niles was silent, just staring at his treat with a gentle frown, then he shifted to lean forward and tilted the cone a bit to let it drip on the sidewalk. Frasier watched him, dark gaze lazily studying the design his younger brother made. His gaze soon shifted though to focus back on the boy as he spoke. “Frasier...you weren't...y-you wouldn't really...k-kill him...w-would you?” Niles asked quietly. Frasier watched him for a while, staying silent, then gave a soft scoff and looked away, “Nah,” he said, “That punk wouldn't be even remotely worth going to prison for. Don’t worry, Nilely, your boyfriend is safe.” Niles choked a bit and started to stammer but couldn't get anything out. Frasier just laughed, cackling almost, and looked back at him, “Fuck, Niles,” he chuckled, “Breathe, I was just joking. The younger brother gave a sound that was a mix of a nervous laugh and a sigh of relief, “Right,” he said softly, “Of course.” “You really are too tense, you know that, Nilely?” Frasier snorted, “You need to let loose a bit, learn to joke and mess around.” “Sorry…” he mumbled. His brother sighed, “No, don’t apologize. You didn't do anything wrong, I’m just-” a sudden sound of a cell phone pinging cut him off and he frowned a bit, before shifting and moving to stand up so he could pull out his phone. He sat back down as he looked at the message he’d received and his frown only deepened. “Bollocks,” he muttered and sighed, “I gotta go meet someone, will you be able to make it home alright on your own?” he asked, “I’ll give you money for a cab.” Niles frowned, but nodded, “Y-yeah,” he said, “I-I should be alright...wh-when will you be home though?” Frasier scrunched his face a bit in thought as his put his phone away and pulled out his wallet, “Probably not until after dinner, honestly. You should tell mum and dad not to wait for me,” he added and held out a few notes, “That oughta cover the fee plus tip,” he hummed and slipped his wallet back into his pocket. Niles nodded and took the money offered to him as he stood, “Alright,” he said, then smiled a bit and added, “See you later, Frasiergator.” The older brother smiled and chuckled a bit, jutting his chin toward the younger male as he responded, “Not for a while, Croconile.” He moved in to offer the boy a hug, then turned and ran off into the crowd of shoppers, soon becoming lost from sight.

Early spring brings in the pour, Leaving drops for early ‘mor. Naked feet along the ground, tip-toe out without a sound. Over grass we quickly race, Stifled laughs through our chase. Hush and shush we take hide, Nestle in side by side. A song rings out and draws us in, Perhaps tomorrow we will win. Sip honey tea below the tree. Watch the world, just you and me.

[ ← Part 2 ] ─ • ─ [ Beginning ] ─ • ─ [ End (you’re here!) ]

#kaesera #short story #character prose #dew drops and honey tea #niles tanner #frasier tanner

0 notes

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

[CP] DDaHT Pt.2

At lunch, Niles sat alone under a tree near the edge of the yard, picking at the crust of his sandwich and tossing it out into the grass for the birds. He sighed as he fell back against the trunk of the tree and closed his eyes with a light frown. He thought back to class, his frown deepening at the words of his classmates repeating in his ears. He hadn't finished his reading, even when Mrs.Cormik returned and invited him to try again. He’d refused, unable to bring himself to even look at anyone at that point.

He thought about his poem, about how horribly it had been misinterpreted, and, with his frown increasing, he opened his eyes and glared a bit up at the leaves of the tree, brows knitting together in a frustrated anger. Shifting, he sat back up and moved to grab his school bag, pulling out his notebook and turning to put it on his lap as he flipped through the pages. When he got to the poem, he stopped, and scowled, setting a hand over the writing. His fingers brushed lightly over the words, hovering just above the page so as not to smudge the graphite, but then, with a sneer, he slapped his hand down and curled his fingers, successfully tearing the page out and crumpling it up in the same action. Passing the crumpled paper from one hand to the other, he crumpled it further, rendering it no more than a small, smudged ball, which he promptly threw out into the grass. Tossing his notebook aside, he pulled his knees up to his chest and wrapped his arms around his legs to hug them close as he buried his face. He wasn't left for long though, as something hitting his shoulder and bouncing off caused him to jump, and he raised his head to be met with a group of other students in front of him. He froze, a cold chill running through him as he locked eyes with the leader of the group. “I-I-I don’t...I...I-I don’t want any t-trouble, Barney,” he stammered. “Little late for that, D-duh-d-dorky,” the boy grouched, crossing his arms, “I got in a lot of trouble because of you. Principal Beck called my mom, and you know what she said?” he scowled, “I’m grounded,” he spat, not even waiting for Niles to attempt an answer, “No TV, no games, and no going out with friends. It’s fucking shit. It’s not my fault you’re such a blubbering freak!” Niles shrunk in on himself as the boy went off on him, “I-I-I-I’m-m-I-I-I’m-I’m-I-um-I’m-m-m-I’m s-s-s-sorry?” he responded quietly, “I-I-I-I don’t- I-I don’t- I don’t- d-don’t r-really kn-know what- wh-what you wa-w-w-want me to do…” “I want to get my punishment’s worth,” Barney scoffed, “If I’m going to be grounded, I at least want the satisfaction of smashing your face in. It’s what you deserve after writing that dirty little poem and setting me up.” “But I didn't-” Niles started, words blurting out of him before he cut himself off, “Th-th-the p-p-p-poem wasn't...i-it wasn't...i-it’s n-not dirty,” he spoke with weak defensiveness, “I-it was...i-it’s about m-my brother and myself…” Barney stared at him, then gave a disgusted look, “Dear gods, that is absolutely repulsive,” he choked, “You have fantasies about your brother? For fuck’s sake, Niles, I-” “I-it’s not an e-erotic p-poem!” Niles burst, “I-i-it’s about the games...th-the games we used to play together,” he shrunk down and lowered his head again, “Th-there’s nothing d-dirty about it…” The boy snorted at Niles’ reaction, smirking a bit, “Look at you, you can’t even defend your poem. How would you ever defend yourself? You’d better fucking put up a fight, else this is just going to be pathetic.” With that, he nodded to his friends, gesturing to the boy on the ground, “Get him to his feet,” he told them, “Make sure he doesn't run.” Niles’ eyes widened widen as his head shot up to see the two others with Barney moving toward him, and he started to scramble to his feet to get away. In a moment though, the others had grabbed an arm each and lifted him up to his feet, pulling him over toward the other boy. They held him in place as he wriggled and kicked, fighting to get away. Barney watched him a moment, scowling, “For bloody fuck’s sake, Niles,” he huffed after a moment, “Plant your prissy little feet and fight like a man, would you?”

“If it’s a man you want to fight, kid, then why don’t you fight me?” a new voice suddenly sounded from the fence and everyone looked over with wide eyes to see an older male leaning on the top rail with one arm folded lazily over the other, making him look casual and even natural, as though he were meant to be there. “F-frasier,” Niles squeaked, falling somewhat limp in the arms of the kids still holding him as he shrunk back, “Wh-wh-what are y-y-you-y-you- wh-what are- sh-s-shouldn't you be at sc-school?” “Let’s just say it was early release,” the young man replied, dark eyes boring into the two students holding the boy. They released him in a moment and started to back off. Barney’s scowl deepened as he watched Niles take off running back to the tree and gather up his things, and his gaze shifted to Frasier as he said, “So what, that’s it? You’re just going to stare at us and expect us to run off?” Frasier raised his brows in interested amusement and focused on the boy, “You do know who I am, don’t you?” he questioned. “Frasier Tanner, his older brother, yeah, everyone knows you,” Barney replied, “But just because you have a reputation doesn't mean I’m afraid of you.” “Oh really?” Frasier mused, smiling, “Well, that’s good to know,” he chuckled, “I’m glad there’s someone still willing to fight me.” “I’m not looking to fight you,” Barney scowled, “My problem isn't with you, now, it’s with him,” he thrust his hand toward Niles with a huff, “He’s the one I want to fight, and I’d like to do it before the end of lunch if you don’t mind. I won’t have time after school to-” “If I don’t mind?” Frasier scoffed, “Buddy. You’re asking to beat the shit out of my brother, not take him out on a date. I think you might be a little dim in the head if you actually believe I’ll be ‘suaded into allowing that. Now you might not have a problem with me, but I sure as hell have a problem with you. But I’m in a good mood today, so I’ll give you another chance to turn tail now and leave my brother alone. Consider yourself fucking blessed, you bloody bastard.” Barney rolled his eyes at the man and looked to his friends, “Come on guys, this guy is obviously just talk. Just grab Dorky and let’s go. He wouldn't dare come after us.” Frasier laughed then, standing up, “Oh, little boy, you really are daft, aren't you?” he sighed, “Though I suppose you’re right on some level,” he paused, setting a hand on the fence, “I wouldn't dare,” he grinned, “I just would.”

With that, he launched himself over the fence and rushed at the group. The boy’s friends both screeched as the man came at them, and stumbled as they quickly turned and ran. Barney stood his ground, however, staring down the larger male, and ducked to avoid the guy’s first hit. However, he misjudged his steps, and ended up tripping over one of Frasier’s feet. Frasier snickered as he grabbed the smaller male, yanking him back away from Niles and throwing him to the ground, “Come on now,” he encouraged excitedly, “Get up and fight like a man!” Barney pushed up to his feet, slowly, and wavered a bit where he stood as he looked up at Frasier. He sneered, then adjusted his stance and threw a punch at the man, closing his eyes as he did. Frasier smirked, and quickly grabbed the boy’s wrist, causing the boy’s eyes to flash open with a startled shock. The older male laughed at Barney’s reaction, giving a sharp tug to the boy’s arm to pull him in, “Oh come on now, kid, don’t tell me that tough little punk was just routine! Fight me!” “Frasier, please,” Niles spoke up from behind the man, “J-just let him go. I-...I-I think he learned his lesson…” “Don’t you dare fucking stand up for me, Dorky!” Barney snapped at the other boy, “I don’t need you to save me. I can handle this just fine on my own.” “Yeah, Croconile,” Frasier put in, “He’s got this. Let the punk fight. I've been itching to kick someone’s ass lately.” “Good luck,” Barney huffed, before twisting out of Frasier’s hold and jumping back. Frasier moved after him, cackling, and the two soon broke into a full fledged fight.

Niles watched as punch after punch and kick after kick were thrown, biting his lip and clutching his items close. At one point, Frasier threw Barney to the ground again, and Niles watch in horror as the man ruthlessly rammed his foot into the boy’s chest over and over. Barney had given up, curling into a tight ball on the ground to try and escape as much damage as he could. Between bursts of kicks, Frasier stooped to strike his fist into the boy’s face, laughing all the while. Finally, Niles inched forward and reached out to set a hand on his brother’s shoulder, “F-Frasier,” he started, slowly reaching out, “I-I th-think that’s e-eno-no-nough. J-ju-just-” He was violently cut off though as his hand fell on the older male’s shoulder and the man suddenly spun around and threw a sharp fist right at the smaller boy’s jaw. Niles cried out in pain and stumbled back a few steps before falling to the ground. Tears burned in his eyes and he choked back a sob as a violent tremor ran through his body. Frasier immediately snapped out of his blind state and let out a curse, “Oh shit, Niles! Fucking… What have I told you about staying out of my way!” he seethed lightly and hurried to his brother’s side, “Fuck…” he hissed, “You know I can’t control myself when I get into a rage.” “I-I-I- y-y-yes,” Niles stammered, nodding fiercely, “I-I-I know...I-I know. I’m...I-I’m sorry. I’m sorry Frasier. I’m-I-I-I-I’m-I’m s-sorry. I-I won’t- I-I w- I-I-I w-wont d-do it again. P-p-promise.” For a few moments, Frasier watched his brother, frowning, then he sighed and shook his head, “Alright, alright, that’s enough of that,” he said, setting a hand on Niles’ back, “Come on now, no need for any Croconile tears. You’re tougher than that, right?” he smiled. Niles sniffled and lifted a hand to wipe at his eyes, “Y-yeah...yeah…” he mumbled sniffling again, “Yeah...I-I’m tough...I’m… I’m okay,” he sighed, “I’m okay. You...y-you didn't hurt me, Frasier, I’m fine.” “Good,” the man smiled, then shifted to stand up and held out a hand to offer his brother help in getting up, “Come on,” he said, “Why don’t we ditch this place and go get some ice cream. You deserve some after having to go through all this shit.” “But what about the rest of school?” Niles asked with a frown as he looked up at his brother, “I still have two classes left…” he mumbled as he reached to take the man’s hand.

Frasier dismissed his words with a wave of his free hand, “So you’ll miss them,” he scoffed, “You’re present every other day. One day of absence won’t kill you, and I’ll do your make up work if it bothers you so much. This is ice cream we’re talking about, Niles. Ice cream over listening to your teachers drone on about things you’ll never actually use. Come on, you’re supposed to be the smart one between us, and this is really a no brainer.” Niles frowned, but just nodded a bit and said, “Yeah...I guess you’re right…” “That’s the spirit, Croconile,” the man grinned, “Now grab your things and let’s go.” “What about Barney?” Niles asked, nodding to the boy curled in the grass. “Who?” Frasier blinked, before looking down at the kid. A sharp laugh escaped him and he slapped his hands on his thighs as he bent forward a bit from the intensity of his laughter, “His name is Barney!?” he burst, “Your name is Barney?!” tears of laughter clung to the corner of his eyes and he wheezed as he straightened back up, “Oh fuck...oh man,” he breathed, “I...I can’t fucking breathe!” “Frasier…” Niles frowned, “Be nice. Please? You already beat him up…” Frasier wheezed, fighting to contain himself, and nodded a bit as he focused on just breathing, “Yeah, alright, fine,” he snickered, “You’re right. His pride’s been hurt enough. I doubt he’ll be giving you anymore trouble,” he hummed and then turned his attention down to the boy in question, “You won’t be giving him trouble now, will you, Barney?” Barney shook his head weakly, “N-no sir,” he replied, voice quiet and shaky, “I p-promise…” “Good,” Frasier said with a nod, “If you break that promise, I’ll probably kill you, so just keep that in mind, hm? Now then,” he looked at Niles, “I’m sure Barney will be fine. Tough as he makes himself out to be, he should be able to drag himself to the nurse, and if not,” he shrugged, “well, someone is sure to come looking for him,” he smirked and shot a glance down to the boy before returning his gaze to Niles, “Now come on, Croconile, get your shit and let’s go!”

In a rush, Niles gathered up all the items he’d dropped when Frasier hit him, and stuffed everything in his bag before running over to meet his brother at the fence. Frasier gently took his bag and helped him over the fence, then hopped back over himself and ruffled the smaller male’s hair, laughing as they turned to head down the street.

[ ← Part 1 ] ─ • ─ [ Beginning ] ─ • ─ [ Part 3 → (coming soon) ]

#kaesera #short story #character prose #dew drops and honey tea #niles tanner #frasier tanner

0 notes

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

[CP] DDaHT Pt.1

“The sun sinks low but once a day, Orange, red, and violet in a grand display. Rain falls down but just from gray; Wispy clouds just want to play. The world holds beauty- Just look and see; A stunning work for you and me. The world holds beauty- It is the key; A magnificent place of lives lived free.”

A few soft claps filled the room as the poem came to an end and the girl who recited the work took a small bow to signify the end of her poem; some clapped honestly, while others merely seemed to act by obligation under the expectant eye of their teacher. The teacher smiled at the young girl and gave a respectful nod, “Thank you, Amelia,” she hummed, “That was very well read, and well written too. You did a marvelous job. Please have a seat back at your desk.” “Yes, Mrs. Cormik, thank you,” Amelia responded to the woman, giving a polite nod to emphasis her thanks before skipping on back to her desk. “Alright then, class,” Mrs. Cormik started, “Would anyone like to volunteer to go next?” she waited but as she was met with nothing but shuffling kids avoiding eye contact, she sighed, shook her head, and then let her gaze fall on a student at random. “Niles,” she started, causing the named boy to jump in his seat, “Perhaps you would like to come up and read? You always write such beautiful pieces.” The boy, Niles, sunk down in his seat, raising his notebook to hide behind it, and shook his head. Other students snickered and whispered, all looking to the front to watch the boy with venomous amusement in their eyes. Some made mocking faces toward the boy, silently calling him out on his timidness and twisting it to cruel jokes. The teacher frowned a bit at the other children, expression hard and warning, before setting a gentle gaze back on Niles, “Come on now,” she said, “There’s nothing to fear. I know you can do it if you try, and trying is really all that matters. Just give it a try, Niles, it’s all I can really ask of you, and I’m sure you’ll be just fine.” Hesitantly, Niles lowered his notebook a bit, peeking over the top of it to the teacher. Looking into her reassuring and supportive gaze a few moments, he closed his eyes and took a soft breath, before giving a small nod and slowly slipping out of his desk. For a few moments, he just stood there, staring toward the blackboard with a hint of fear. The whispers and stifled laughter continued behind him, growing stronger even, and as he stepped forward to make way for the front of the classroom, one kid near the back suddenly spoke out, “Goo-g-g-g-goo-g- Break a leg up there, D-d-d-d-d-dorky Pig,” gaining an immediate roar of laughter from the rest of the class. “Barney Truman!” Mrs. Cormik scolded harshly, rising up from her desk and staring the boy down with a stern, cold gaze, “I will have none of that in my classroom! Do you hear me? At this school, we treat others with the same respect we want them to give to us. We do not mock fellow students with hurtful jokes and names. One more peep like that and I will send you to Principal Beck’s office. Do you understand?” The boy pressed back a snort, smirking a bit and rolling his eyes, “Yes, Mrs. Cormik, I understand,” he replied, “I’m sorry for the interruption.” “You watch that tone, young, man,” the teacher warned, to which the boy was unable to stop his small snort. She gave him a warning snap of her fingers, then turned her gaze to the boy still standing awkwardly between his desk and the blackboard. Her features softened and she sighed a bit, “Come on, Niles,” she said sweetly, “Just ignore them. You’ll do fine. I know you will.” Again, Niles nodded, reaching up to push his glasses back in place on his nose, before dragging his feet forward and heading for the front of the class. He faced the board for a bit when he finally got there, clutching his notebook and looking down at it with a nervous fear burning in his eyes. Finally though, he turned around and faced the class, keeping his gaze locked on the words of his page as he cleared his throat, “Um…” he started, shifting and shuffling his feet anxiously, “I-I call this poem D-d-d-d-d-dew D-drops a-a-a-and H-h-h...H-h-h...H-hon-honey Tea…” he paused, biting his lip a little as he took a deep breath, then started again, “E-early spring b-b-b-brings in the p-pour...L-l-leaving d-drops for e-early ‘m-mo-m-mor. N-naked feet...a-along the ground, t-tip-toe out...uh...w-without a sound…” he swallowed, peeking up only a moment before looking down and raising his notebook up higher to hide, “O-over grass we quickly race...s-...s-s-s-stifled laughs thhhh-th-through our chase. H-hush and sh-shush we t-take hide, n-nestle i-...i-i...in-in-i-in s-side by side-” “Holy shit, Niles wrote an erotic poem!” Barney blurt out in a hard laugh from the back of the room, “A kinky one at that too,” he snorted, “No wonder he’s so nervous about reading it aloud.” The rest of the class broke out in laughter as well, and the boy at the front of the class shrunk down where he stood, pressing his notebook against his face to hide the tint of red quickly flooding over his face. “Barney Truman!” Mrs. Cormik snapped, throwing much of the class back into silence. It was known well amongst the students of Mrs. Cormik that she rarely ever truly got angry. She was a remarkably patient woman, willing to give anyone multiple chances to right any wrongs they might have made, and she was extremely supportive as well, working to help guide those to the right choice where needed. She rarely ever lost her temper with even the most sour of company, but when she did finally reach her breaking point, one could be sure they were in for a heap of trouble. Swiftly, the woman made way to the back of the class, pulling the boy to his feet and guiding him out of the class. With the teacher gone, students turned to each other and began talking amongst themselves, chittering and chattering about the boy who had been pulled out and making jokes about the boy still standing at the front. Soon enough, Niles moved, shuffling back to his desk and sinking low in his seat.

[ Part 2 → (coming soon) ] ─ • ─ [ Beginning (you’re here!) ]

#kaesera #short story #character prose #dew drops and honey tea #niles tanner #frasier tanner

0 notes

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

New Category

Hey everyone, I feel really bad for not posting for so long, so I've decided to add a new category of works to the blog, titled Character Prose, which are essentially short stories varying from a few paragraphs to full chapters revolving around various characters I use for roleplay. These characters typically don’t have their own stories, as their story develops through the roleplay, so I use these proses as a means of defining the character and developing them further outside of roleplay. If you have any questions about any of the characters featured in a given prose, please don’t be afraid to ask, I’ll gladly tell you all about the character and their basic story (spoiler free).

My first Character Prose I’m going to share is called Dew Drops and Honey Tea and is about my boy, Niles and his abusive older brother when they were teens. It runs on the longer side of my proses, so I've divided it into three parts which will be released daily. I hope you enjoy it!

0 notes

kaesera-written · 7 years ago

Text

[WP] When All Else Fails

Hey everyone, I’m back! Sorry for the long silence. I was dealing with a lot of stress at home and just couldn't find my muse anymore. I’m in a much better place now and am finally settling in and getting back into the swing of things, and so I bring you a new weekly prompt! This time, I’m confident that I will actually keep up the schedule.

This week’s prompt was a “first line” prompt provided by a generator on Writing Exercises, which I found really inspiring. The story includes aspects of war and death, but nothing too heavy or serious. Enjoy!

His hiding place had been discovered. What on earth was he going to do now? Aharon let out a soft curse as he sunk back into the overgrowth of grass, flowers, and bushes, and watched as the Queensmen tore open the hatch to his shelter and dove down into its depths. A few remained above, surveying the surrounding area with hard, stoic expressions, their weapons all at the ready, and their dark, soulless eyes all on the shadows.

I’ll be caught for sure at this rate… Aharon thought with a hiss, looking for anything he could use as a distraction to at least buy him time to make a run for it. Not a rock, not a bottle, not even a broken branch anywhere within his reach. He looked back at the Queensmen standing around the entrance to his shelter, his home, and froze as he heard a voice from inside order one of the ones still topside to search the area.

Another silent curse as he pushed his fingers through his hair, feeling himself begin to tremble. This was it. This was the end. He’d made it so far, yet had so much further to go, and this was it. This was where his journey ended. He peeked out through the untamed foliage and watched as a couple of the Queensmen moved about, poking their weapons into bushes and shining their lights into the surrounding trees and collapsed buildings. There had to be a way out. He couldn’t just let them find him. He knew for sure that if they did, they wouldn’t kill him. Not right away, at least. He was one of the special ones. He’d made himself present to the public. Made the news. He was high class among the wanted, and they would want to make an example of him. Discourage anyone else from following his path.

The grass rustled. The Queensmen were getting closer. Think, Aharon, now think. There has to be a way to keep this going. There has to be a way to- his thoughts stopped as he remembered what he’d been told. “The most important thing is that others see the truth, and feel the fire light inside them to push this war on to completion.”

Aharon swallowed, his breath shaking as he knew what he had to do. His feet felt glued to the spot, and his heart felt like it had long since floated away and disappeared into the starless sky, searching for the lights that had been lost so long ago. As a light swept over him, Aharon felt the world sink away, and with the shout of a Queensman, he rose up, and looked toward the two with fierce eyes. The Queensmen yelled for him to come out into the open and get down on the ground, directing their weapons at him, but he knew they wouldn't shoot kill. Their orders were to detain, not eliminate. Maybe they’d paralyze him, but they wouldn't kill him.

Raising his hands up, Aharon watched as the other Queensmen emerged from the hatch, all joining their squadron and training their weapons at him. He was weaponless. Nothing on him. And he showed that easily. But they still addressed him with aggression, demanding him to come out into the open. And so he obliged, stepping out of the overgrowth and into the clearing, stopping just a few lengths from them, before slowly lowering down to his knees and setting his hands behind his head. The expressions of the Queensmen were mixtures of smug satisfaction and confusion, but most shook off the latter and watched as their general moved forward.

“Not sure whether to see you as smart or just a fool,” the man said.

Aharon had to bite back the urge to say the same about him and just shrugged, “I know when I need to consider my odds and make a new move,” he said, “Running gets you nowhere, and without a weapon or back up, fighting is foolish.”

“So surrender was your only option,” the Queensman spoke bluntly.

“Not surrender,” Aharon replied, smiling a bit, and as the general was thrown back a moment trying to understand what he meant, Aharon quickly stood up and rushed the man, grabbing at his weapon. The Queensman quickly regained himself, Aharon and he were sent into a chaotic wrestle over the gun, until finally, with one good tug and a kick to the man’s shin, Aharon was able to pull the weapon free of the general’s hold and fell back against a metal tank. It hurt, but he smiled and laughed a bit as he looked up at the symbol painted on the side of the tank. This is it.

The general yelled for the rest of the squad to hold their fire, then glared at Aharon, “Even if you shoot, you’re no match,” he said, “It’s the six of us against the one of you and the only one of us you can even shoot is me.”

“Oh, I know about the safety feature on these pieces of shit,” Aharon replied, “but I’m not looking to shoot you,” he let out a soft, shaky laugh, “If you make it out of here, send her highness my love, eh? And tell her, the war has barely just begun.”

With that, Aharon jammed the weapon’s nose against the tank behind him and pulled the trigger. The general yelled for his men to run, and they took no hesitance as a shattering blast shook the propane tank and quickly consumed the clearing in a shock wave of flames.

#kaesera #short story #weekly prompt #writing prompt #death #war #first line

0 notes