risingada

[risingada]

That stopped her, as she blinked in confusion. "Magic?" Perhaps that was her naive side. After all, her mum was basically a mermaid, her dad could grow claws from his fingers. She was a bit of both. Yet magic, that word still made her pause. "You have any idea who they were?"

“I never said you were,” said Fenrik calmly. “I’m just trying to figure this out with you, alright?” He gave her a look as if to try and reassure her that he was on her side. “I believe you. There’s obviously something we’re missing so I want to see what we’re missing.” 

Fenrik paused, a moment of silence as he looked away to think. “You know what we should do? Figure out who those men actually were,” he murmured. “That’s probably where we should start. Who they are. What they are. Why they were here. Might also clue us in if they might have magic they’re using to create illusions or what.”

[risingada]

"I'm not crazy, Fenrik," she bit back, she couldn't help herself. She knew she wasn't crazy, as crazy as she felt. "Someone's following me. Ever since -- ever since those men were here. It's -- I don't know how, because I saw you kill him," her voice broke slightly, lowering on the last part even though there was no one else. "But he's there. I know it's him."

“Really? I think the other problem is better. There’s an obvious solution. One that I can actually help with, anyway. A ghost? I’ve got no fucking clue. I’m not a ghostbuster.” He looked like he was thinking for a moment.

“So, are they always in a crowd? Do you ever see them when you’re by yourself? While you were on your way here?” Fenrik even went to a nearby window, looking outside as if he might be able to see this person or see what Dawn was referring to. “Is it sporadic or are you always in a certain place or with certain people when you see them?” He paused. "And you're sure this isn't someone pulling some sick Halloween prank?"

[risingada]

She let out a breath, putting her bag down on the bench and slipping into one of the stools there. "No, not all the time. It's just -- it's like, I've been followed before, you know. When a fan is too eager, or whatever," maybe she was downplaying the part of a crazy fan, when someone thinks you owe them because you're their favourite player.

"It feels like that. I can tell they're there, but they're keeping hidden the best they can. Staying back, behind other people. It's just -- it looks exactly like him." She gave a small shrug. "I don't know. I've never really believed in ghosts, but it's nicer to think that than thinking someone who attacked us is now following me."

Fenrik looked at her, as if examining her. It wasn’t that he didn’t believe her, though it was hard to consolidate what he knew to be true, with what she was experiencing. He also wasn’t trying to be dismissive, and more trying to figure out what he could do. Fenrik’s manner of resolving most things was simply to get rid of the problem. Supernatural and ghosts, though, were a little bit different. 

“That’s okay,” he said. His voice was lower, not quite as harsh as he normally was. “I’m just trying to figure out what to do here. I’m not exactly knowledgeable about ghosts or that kind of magic.” He paused. “How often? Is it all the time or is it just when you’re out and about? When you’re alone? With people?”

[risingada]

"I don't know." It had been an instinct. When she couldn't ignore the man anymore, when she couldn't pretend seeing him was just a coincidence. The only solution she could think of was going to the compound and finding Fenrik.

She didn't know what she wanted. Taking care of the problem -- that wasn't her. But he'd been there that day. Taken care of it then. "I'm just --" her voice cracked. Things became more real when you voiced them. "I'm scared."

Fenrik gave her a look. “I don't fucking know. Do I look like a fucking ghostbuster to you?" He ran a hand over his face. "Well, what the fuck am I supposed to do?” he said, able to hear the exasperation in her voice. “I mean, you’re telling me for a reason, I assume. Are you asking for my help? For me to see if I can take care of the problem?”

[risingada]

Dawn felt frustrated, obvious in the exasperated way she answer, "I don't know Fenrik. If he's dead then how is he following me." She was scared. Of course she was. She felt like she always looking over her shoulder.

“Pretty fucking sure,” said Fenrik with a nod. “Suppose if we were dealing with vampires, then might’ve been a different story, but I’m also pretty fucking positive they weren’t vampires.” He tilted his head. “You said someone bumped into him? So, we’re not talking about an actual ghost?”

[risingada]

"No. He's not -- it's not like some boogie man at the end of my bed. It's like -- I'll be out, and I see him. And then when I look again he's still there. I even saw someone bump into him once. I don't --" Dawn let out a frustrated sigh. She had to ask the question she really didn't want to, feeling sick just thinking of the words. "Are you sure he's dead?"

Fenrik would have to take her word for it, because he obviously wouldn’t know about the experience. He knew the culture existed, but he couldn’t say more than that. He didn’t say anything more about that. Instead, he observed her, as if trying to see what she saw through her description. 

He picked up his own mug. “When does it happen?” he asked. “I mean, do you see this man now?” He looked around as if he might suddenly be able to see the man, too. “Or is it only sometimes? Right before bed? When it’s dark out? When you’re stressed?” 

[risingada]

"I don't know," she curled her hands around the mug and drew it towards her, more for comfort than anything. She wouldn't be drinking it. "Fans are different. Even the -- more eager ones. You can see the excitement. Or they're like, nervous." She'd been famous long enough that could speak so matter of factly about it.

"This guy he -- I don't know. Had none of that. And he looked exactly the same." There was no need to say that the dead mans face would be etched into her memory forever.

Fenrik listened. Sure, there was magic on the island, but even magic had its rules that it followed. There were definitely rules and logical explanations for just about everything, and it was those rules and logic he firmly believed in. 

“So, you think you’re seeing a ghost?” asked Fenrik, just to confirm he was understanding what she was saying. “You sure it’s not some sort of stalker? Crazy fan?” He brought over two mugs of coffee and sat down, placing one in front of Dawn. She could choose to drink it or not, didn't matter to him.

[risingada]

"Great. That's -- great." It wasn't unsurprising, despite the fact they lived somewhere with werewolves and mermaids and vampires, but it sure made it harder to get Fenrik on board with the fact that she thought she was being haunted by the man he killed in front of her. But how else could she put it? "I don't know. I -- I keep getting this feeling I'm being watched. And I keep seeing this one man. Like I'm being followed or something. But he -- well, he looks exactly like that one -- the one who attacked me here. Kind of feel like I'm going a bit crazy." She couldn't bring herself to mention the mans death. She was sure Fenrik knew who she was talking about.

Fenrik looked at her, and snorted slightly. “Do I look like I believe in spirits that linger on earth for no reason as if this fucking cesspool of a shit place gave people a reason to hang around? No,” he said. “I don’t. If you believe in ghosts, you should probably keep that to myself,” he told her. “Why do you ask?” He put on a pot of coffee now, the smell of coffee brewing suddenly permeating the space, taking over the linger smell of oil.

[risingada]

Dawn didn't bother to hide the roll of her eyes at Fenrik's response, long having learned exactly what the man was like. Which is why the blunt response that may have once upset her rolled off her back. She knew it wasn't her at all - it was just Fenrik. Which was also why she didn't beat around the bush when she asked, "Do you believe in ghosts?"

Fenrik had mostly kept busy over the summer months by working on the cars that came through his garage. It had been an uneventful few months. Besides, before he could do anything with his ultimate goal when it came to avenging his family, he thought it might not be a bad idea to lie low until he could come up with a plan of action and for now, that meant just doing his work. 

“Of course I’m here,” said Fenrik, standing at the sink in the kitchenette area of the Compound and rinsing his hands of some grime and oil. “Where else would I be?” After all, Fenrik didn’t exactly have an electric social life. 

[risingada]

When: 30th October Where: The Compound Who: @fenriksblade

It had started early in the summer, when Dawn was throwing herself into her training as a distraction from what had happened with the men at the compound - from those dead eyes that had stared into her. Of course, work was never an appropriate distraction, she knew that more than most. But it was when she started to see those very familiar eyes, the dead ones that had since been haunting her, she felt like she was going crazy. She ignored it, she had to. But as the warm months went on and she tried to live out her life she couldn't help the unnerving feeling she was being watched. And that man --

As she entered the kitchen of The Compound, she let out a sigh of relief. "Oh good. You're here."

[risingada]

"Emre annoyed me at the start too. Mean, we were teenagers and he lived around the corner from my grandparents. Stereotypical teen romcom type of stuff." Dawn let out a small laugh. She understood exactly where Orlaith was coming from. "Trust me, I barely left my bed for a year afterwards," a fact that would've been true whether she was recovering from her injuries or not. "If I didn't have my work, my family -- friends. I had so much good to focus on, but even then it was so hard. But yeah. I'm -- I'm in a good place now. And I'm grateful that I got to have him at all, even if it wasn't forever like we thought." Her soft smile was genuine, as she toyed with her rings.

"Well a dress is a given. Every bride needs their dress. Have you found one yet?"

"I just couldn't imagine losing him, I think it would kill me too, which is funny 'cause at one point I couldn't stand him." One loss too many for Orlaith; if something happened to Tristan, she'd have lost every piece of her family. What else would she be able to do but give in? No wonder she'd got so upset when it came to the bike. She laughed too, though gently. "I suppose that's a good measure of how you're doing with your grief. Sounds like you didn't rush yourself, which some people can do."

Orlaith took another drink before she shook her head. "I'm going to stretch to a dress at least. Nothing too extravagant, but I'd be lying if I said I didn't want to put on a white dress on my wedding day. But otherwise— City Hall with some drinks and tacos afterwards. Most of the budget is going on a hotel for the night afterwards. I just couldn't really imagine getting married and then just going home. Felt a bit mundane, relatively speaking." That wasn't to say home felt mundane usually, she liked the life she had built had with Tristan in their apartment, but she wanted something that felt special and not every day after getting married.

[risingada]

Dawn offered a small smile. "It's okay. I don't mind talking about it." Fingers shifted around her wine glass. "He was the love of my life, y'know. We met when we were fourteen, I thought he was my forever. It didn't end up that way, but I -- I'm at a good place with it. Mean -- I was finally able to sleep with someone new for the first time in years a couple months ago." She let out a small laugh. Healing was a funny thing.

"I'm just saying, nothing else matters when you know it's right. Make a ring out of a rubber band, wear sweat pants to a court house if that's what works for the two of you. Because the two of you are all it's about."

"Oh." It was an underwhelming reaction perhaps, but for a moment it was all Orlaith had. Something seemed to constrict in her chest. After all, hadn't that been what had led to Tristan's spur of the moment proposal? An argument about what it would do to her if she lost him and her wanting him to care about that? She wondered if she would be standing here having this conversation at all with Dawn if they hadn't had that fight. If they'd have spent the last week organising a wedding at all. Suddenly she didn't want to be in this stupid bar with colleagues from work, she wanted to be home. But that was stupid; Tristan was fine and would be whether she was there or not. She swallowed the feeling down with another sip of beer.

"I'm sorry," she added in the end, the beer sitting uncomfortably in her stomach now, feeling like acid. No one got married thinking it wouldn't last and loss was always hard, but something felt more unfair about a young widow. She let out a wry laugh, small. "You'd think I'd be better at this, being a nurse," - she dealt with death all the time, - "but I don't really know what to say after I've stood here talking about my own wedding."

[risingada]

Dawn nodded, sympathetic. If she wasn't so focused on soccer, maybe that would be her, bouncing around from thing to thing. She'd been lost after the accident, not knowing what her future would look like. She'd lost the love of her life, and with legs that didn't work, had she lost her dreams too?

"Well, at least make sure you're having fun whilst you try, yeah?" she reached for the record he'd so longingly been looking at, adding it to her pile. "C'mon, I'll get you this."

[risingada]

Ayça Ayşin Turan as Sahra in Sen Inandir (2023)

 dirs. Evren Karabiyik Günaydin & Murat Saraçoglu

[risingada]

Dawn nodded, sympathetic. If she wasn't so focused on soccer, maybe that would be her, bouncing around from thing to thing. She'd been lost after the accident, not knowing what her future would look like. She'd lost the love of her life, and with legs that didn't work, had she lost her dreams too?

"Well, at least make sure you're having fun whilst you try, yeah?" she reached for the record he'd so longingly been looking at, adding it to her pile. "C'mon, I'll get you this."

"It's kind of funny. Sometimes i wonder what life would be like if I'd just gone and become a teacher or something like that." She let out a small laugh. "Kind of ironic, given my job is something so many people had as a dream when they were kids." It wasn't lost on her how lucky she was. That she was able to turn her childhood dream into her reality.

"That's totally fair. Asking old ladies what kind of bread they want isn't for everyone. What was like -- your childhood dream?"

[risingada]

“Yeah?” asked Oumar. “What’s that like?” He couldn’t imagine knowing what you wanted for so long. Oumar probably had the issue of having too many varied interests, moving from hyperfixation to hyperfixation, never really developing a talent in one specific area. Not to mention, most of his interests lay in pop culture, and he had no idea how to make a career of that. 

“Honestly? I don’t feel like a customer service industry is my strength?” said Oumar. “But I appreciate the offer. Your energy is really inspiring for me.”

[risingada]

“That’s it, really. Having a person who you choose, whether it’s easy or hard, they’re there for you, and you for them.” Dawn felt for Orlaith. She had her family, and when they got together, she gained Emre’s family. It was with his mum that she was able to cling to and grieve after the accident. Both missing the same shaped hole. “I am.” Dawn nodded, before correcting herself. “Was. He passed away. It’ll have been five years in January.” Dawn didn’t mind that Orlaith had asked, nor did she mind telling her. Her mind was already in the topic, so it didn’t feel like she had been sprung with it. “When we got engaged, we were so young. We’d been together for like five years, but we were still teenagers. He would jokingly ask me to marry him like, all the time. Make rings out of grass, or use a cheeto. I asked him once how I’d know if he was being serious, and he said he’d use one of those rings off of a coke can. I didn’t think he was being serious, then a few months later, there we were in our favourite spot with the ring off a coke can. Didn’t get a proper one for months after that, but it never really mattered. I was just — so happy.”

Dawn smiled a nostalgic, sad sort of smile, taking a sip of her wine before letting out a laugh. “Sorry. Over share. I’m just saying, none of the other stuff matters, except the two of you.”

"I think I'm more excited about after," Orlaith said, after taking a contemplative sip of her beer, "the being married." And that was true, though of course she looked forward to the day, having her moment in a white dress - nothing too over the top, given the size of the wedding - and the hotel with Tristan and of course the food. "I don't really have any family, but when we're married..." Her words trailed off as she shrugged, thinking it went without saying what she meant; when they were married she'd have the security of a family again, and not one that existed because it had to, but one that existed out of choice. Her mother and father might not want her, but Tristan did. He had chosen her.

Orlaith watched as Dawn fiddled with her necklace, noticing for the first time the rings. It was strange to not wear them, she thought, but then she remembered Dawn was a sportsperson. Maybe it was easier to keep them somewhere safe rather than taking them on and off all the time. Her chin nodded in the direction of the necklace. "You're married?"