#;; this town rips the bones from your back

[cursedcatboy]

“Now. In the '60s, there were only two other cars made in America that had positraction and independent rear suspension and enough power to make these marks. One was the Corvette, which could never be confused with the Buick Skylark. The other had the same body length, height, width, weight, wheel base, and wheel track as the '64 Skylark, and that was the 1963 Pontiac Tempest.” –– Marisa Tomei as Mona Lisa Vito in My Cousin Vinny.

INTRODUCING : EMERY BINX 

inspired by: DYLAN LENIVY from THE QUARRY. CHARLIE BRADBURY from SUPERNATURAL. KAYWINNET LEE "KAYLEE" FRYE from FIREFLY. CHRIS HARTLEY from UNTIL DAWN. MICHAEL MELL from BE MORE CHILL (BROADWAY). ORPHEUS from HADESTOWN. SHAWN SPENCER from PSYCH. CHARLOTTE “CHUCK” CHARLES from PUSHING DAISIES. // with hints of: dean winchester from supernatural. jack kelly from newsies. annabeth chase from the lightning thief/pjo. phineas t. kettletree, esq. “bobble” from disney fairies. audrey fulquard from little shop of horrors. barold j. bluejeans from the adventure zone: balance. as well as: — the song Take Me Home, Country Roads by John Denver. — the warmth & earthy smell of a crackling fire blazing brightly on a chilly late-August night. — sun-warmed pillows in comfy reading nooks. — the feeling of the wind blowing through your hair when you drive with the windows down on a sunny summer afternoon. — the colors robins egg blue and pastel yellow. — a light blue 1957 Ford Thunderbird. — the scent of fresh pine trees after it rains.

GENERAL

name. emery jameson binx. nicknames.  em, emmie, jame, james, jamie, binx. date of birth. december 17th.       age. twenty five.      gender. cis male. pronouns. he/him, though he doesn't mind they/them.     powers. can see surprisingly well in the dark.                 sexuality. demi/bisexual.     place of birth. hallow falls.       current residence. elias.       occupation. mechanic. song. born to run by bruce springsteen. emojis. ✌️ 💚 🔧

APPEARANCE

height. 6'2".       build. athletic.       hair colour/style. medium/dark brown. shorter on sides, longer on top. floppy.   eye colour. brown.   piercings. none. although ezrael's Almost convinced him to get a nose piercing. almost.        tattoos. small lineart of a sun on the inside of his right wrist, 8-bit pacman tattoo on the inside of his left wrist, more to come.       notable markings. freckles across his cheeks, nose, and shoulders.         glasses/contacts? glasses when needed; never contacts. he doesn't like having to touch his eyes.   faceclaim. miles robbins.       voiceclaim. n/a. there is a lilt of an accent to his voice, though.

HEALTH

physical ailments. colorblind.     allergies. n/a.       sleeping habits. not enough. he's a bit of a night owl; tends to fall asleep late and wake up early. 4-5 hrs a night maybe. like the other binxes, prone to afternoon naps. eating habits. mostly veggies, although he's not a vegetarian. salads and the like are just Easier when you're on the go.           dominant hand. right.       drugs / smoke / alcohol? no / sometimes / like ez, he's a bit of a social drinker but he knows his limits and doesn't push it (unlike ez).

PERSONALITY

tropes. the voice of reason (sometimes), mr. fix-it, trouble in numbers (with ez). positive traits. friendly, helpful, confident. negative traits. has a tendency to hyperfocus, secretive (sometimes), disorganized. likes. old cars, bruce springsteen songs, vinyl records, sunny summer afternoons, his motorcycle.   dislikes. the rain, being talked over, lemons & lemon-flavored things, laundry day, hoodies.   bad habits. being late to events/plans, is a bit of a klutz, saying “i’ve heard it both ways.” when someone corrects him on pronunciations/usages of certain words.

RELATIONSHIPS

mother. unknown. father. thackery binx.   siblings. ezrael binx. children. n/a. birth order. eldest. significant others. n/a. closest friends. tba.

TESTS

zodiac sign. sagittarius.     mbti. esfj.        temperament. somewhere between sanguine and choleric.        moral alignment. chaotic neutral.         primary vice. sloth.        primary virtue. diligence.

SKILLS & STATS

languages spoken. english, latin, french, spanish.   drive? yes.   jump start a car?  yes.     change a flat tire?  yes.       ride a bicycle? yes.       swim? yes.     play an instrument? yes - guitar & drums but he doesn’t play much && doesn’t crave playing live for a crowd the way ezrael does.   play chess? yes.       braid hair? no.     tie a tie?  yes. pick a lock?  yes - ezrael actually taught him this.  sew?  yes but only very basic handsewing.

his pinterest board is still v much a wip but it can be found here !!

WANTED CONNECTIONS

;; tramps like us, baby we were born to run !! | travel buddies !

emery very much would like to see the world - travel. he doesn’t want to be stuck in elias or hallow falls for the rest of his life, not when there is So Much to see and do out there!! maybe your muse wants the same & they share their dreams with each other. maybe they plan to see the world together someday or maybe your muse & emery have already taken off together before on adventures!! 

;; family don’t end in blood. | close friends !

like ezrael, i think emery has a lot of Friends but very few close friends. these are the people he shares his dreams & fears & everything in between with. sleepovers and phone calls and dumb text messages. inside jokes. there are polaroids of them together pinned to a cork board in em’s room. 

;; a ship like that’ll be with ya til the day ya die. | tinker buddies !

emery loves tinkering with shit and fixing what’s broke. if your muse likes tinkering too maybe they can tinker together or bounce ideas off of each other. maybe your muse comes to emery to fix their things - anything from a broken watch to car troubles.

;; there are no happy endings because nothing ever ends. | exes !

he hasn’t dated Much but he has had a partner or two in the past. maybe the relationship ended amicably and they’re still friends ! maybe it didn’t for whatever reason and they very much Aren’t ! 

;; there’s gotta be some butterflies somewhere | a crush??

romance is never really at the forefront of emery’s mind but sometimes you sort of... trip and fall head-first into feelings you didn’t realize you had in the first place. that’s what happened here. can be mutual or unrequited - either way would be fun !! since emery is demi, this would have to be a muse that he’s already close/friends with !! 

&& probably others but that’s all i can think of for now !! :3 if you have other connections/plot ideas feel free to yeet them at me i am All For Them !! 

[phoenyxrisenfromashes]

1 Detention

The buzzing seeps through my dreams, producing itself from the tree I am currently swinging from. Every buzz buzz becomes more irritating as I swat at the noise, which now comes from a pesky bee flying around the tire swing ropes. The more the buzzing comes, the more bee’s that swarm. I plant my feet onto the ground, stopping my forward and backward momentum and continue the futile task of trying to ignore the noise.

The insects now come in waves, sweeping over my head like tiny bomber planes. I throw my head back in annoyance and stomp my foot like a child.

With my eye’s still closed I throw my arm in the direction of my nightstand. My fingers graze the alarm just enough to stop the repetitive annoyance. Peeking one eye open, I manage to see that it’s 8:32 in the morning, meaning school starts in less than fifteen minute and I’ll be late once again.

A year ago, that thought alone would make me jump out of bed like a jack in a box, but now? Now I can’t even find the will to drag myself off the mattress. I’ve laid in it so much this past year, there is a hole shaped me in the fetal position right in the middle.

Once I do finally manage to find the strength, I plant my feet in the plush carpet and drag myself into the bathroom across the hall. The usual sounds pulse through the air: running water, brush against teeth, no water, brush through the hair, the pop as the cap is taken of the deodorant stick. Besides, those things, the house is an eerie silent. Honestly, I’m still not used to it.

I look up and the mirror in front of me reflects a girl I do not recognize. The green eyes are not lively, the brown hair is not vibrant, skin no longer kissed by the sun. Once upon a time, I was all those things. It feels like a long time ago, though it was only a year. Flashes of the past zip through my mind, lasting only a second, but they feel like a lifetime. I force them aside, not wanting to start out my day full of heart ache.

Shuffling back into my dark room, I push up my closet door to try and find some decent clothes. I should probably get some laundry done this weekend. I throw on my favorite ripped jeans with my equally favorite tank top: it’s plain and black, like my soul. Sliding on worn out converses, snatching my messenger bag and keys, I walk downstairs. My heavy footsteps the only noise in the place.

The small town of Bradford, TN., barely over one thousand residents, is right in middle of a huge heat wave. The high for the day is 87 degrees Fahrenheit, real feel is 92 degrees. Even at nine in the morning, the sun is shining high and mighty, almost sun burning my pale skin upon first contact. The door of my black ’67 impala sear my fingertips when I open the door and shove my petite body into the stuffy heat.

Twenty minutes later, I’m playing the impossible game of trying to find a parking spot in the filled lot of Bradford High. Once I do, I slide it into park and make my way directly to the front desk, knowing what is about to go down.

“Miss Harrison, late once again I see” Mrs. Linch says, not even peeking up from her computer screen, her manicured nails clicking away on the keyboard as she searches my name.

“Yes, well you see, I need to bathe in the blood of blue-eyed virgins for two hours every morning to keep myself young and daring. You should try it sometime.” I roll my eyes as I snatch the slip from her grasp and start down the hallway to second period.

“Miss Harrison, I gave you plenty of leeway last semester, with your tragic accident and everything, but enough is enough. We are expecting the old you this time around, understood?” Ms. Lakes says as a saunter in ten minutes late, rolling my eyes as I take my seat.

“Yea, thanks for the reminder” I plop down at the lab table next to my one and only remaining friend Harper Chapman. Her dark brown hair falls into her round face as she hunches over her textbook, hazel eyes scanning the words before her.

“I heard her parents were brutally murdered when they were hiking at the beginning of the school year. Before that, she was popular, one of the top students in the whole school” I feel the gazes on me as the other teens whisper their usual gossip. By now, I’m used to most of it, but when I hear them bring up my parents, my anger boils. Nails cut into my palms as I clench my fists, tapping my foot in a rapid motion.

Instinctively, my fingers play with the locket hanging around my neck; two crescent moons come to meet at their tips, folded above the Tree of Life. The pendant rests right in the dip of my collar bone. The slight, rhythmic motion relaxes my hands and heartbeat.

“Ignore them Emery, they don’t know anything” Harper elbows my side playfully as she glances at me. I give her a slight, forced smile before we redirect our attention to the opening door. A tall and lean figure walks in, scanning the room with ice blue, piercing eyes which firmly stop on me. Jetton Malign, the new guy in school. I didn’t realize he was in this class. Black hair that he shoves back with a hand, causes his pale skin to stick out. It’s like ink against parchment paper.

My breath catches in my throat at the sight of him, all six foot two inches. He isn’t very built, he has a sly look to him, but it works. He gives me a look like it’s the first time he’s noticing me and he’s trying to figure me out but can’t. His eyes flicker down to my necklace and my fingers still tracing it. Something like understanding with a hint of anger flickers in his eyes, but it’s gone just as fast as it came.

“Please take your seat, Mr. Malign” Mrs. Lakes demands. He slightly nods his head while he saunters to the one and only empty seat behind mine. It’s like he walks in slow motion and the moment he passes by his scent fills my senses.

It’s almost heavenly, his smell; like pinewood and damp earth. My eyes flutter shut involuntarily has I inhale deeply. Once the stale smell of the classroom is all I get, I open my eyes again.

“When did he start this class?” I lean into Harpers space as I whisper to her.

“He’s been in this class since he started here like three weeks ago. Where have you been, lala land? Personally, he gives me the creeps, I’d say away from him if I were you” she whispers back before concentrating on the board. I shift awkwardly under his intense gaze, though I can’t see him, I can still feel it.

The rest of class I couldn’t concentrate to save my life. If Mr. Lakes gives us a pop quiz next class, I’ll be royally screwed. The bells rings, finally releasing us from first period. As I pack up my bag, Harper races out of the room, which isn’t like her. She always waits for me and we walk to our lockers together. She’s been acting a little weird recently, maybe it’s the time of the month for her.

I shove my way through the sea of sexually confused teenagers and raging hormones on my own, fighting my way to my locker. I hate when people stand in middle of the hallways talking to their friends, it drives me crazy.

When I finally reach it and unlock it, I throw in my bag, only taking the books I need for my next two periods. No reason to lug the thing around all day.  I huff them into my arms and slam the locker door shut. I turn around to see Jetton standing directly behind me.  

“Holy crap” I breathe out, almost dropping my books. “You can’t do that” I fix the textbooks in my arms and look up at him, literally, as he stands about four inches taller than me. He doesn’t say anything, just continues to analyze me.  

Okaaaaaaay, weird.  

I step around him and walk down the hall towards my next class, shaking off the guys strangeness. I turn around and see Jetton following me through the crowd, he’s fast. I push myself into the girl’s restroom and into a stall, locking it behind me. The insomnia I’ve developed has left me paranoid and anxious. I sit on the toilet, books in lap and try to steady my breathing. I hear the door open and knock on my stall following. 

“Occupied” I say and the footsteps retreat. I close my eyes against the growing pain behind them, which has become almost constant this past year. After doing a few of my breathing exercises and counting to ten three times, I open the stall and walk to the sink, splashing some cold water on my face. I look at myself in the mirror, my skin which use to be golden has become pale with the lack of sun, my eyes use to shine like the ocean in the sun. Now they are dull, outlined by the bags under them.  

A dark figure behind me catches my gaze in the mirror. The blurry figure comes into view to reveal the new kid Jetton. Out of surprise I go to yell, but before I get the chance, he has a hand covering my mouth. What the heck?

I bite down on his fingers, feeling the skin break and blood come out. He takes a deep inhale and pulls his hand away, looking furious. 

I try running to the door, but he gets there first, locking the handle. Oh god I’m going to die, he’s going to murder me. 

I slowly back up until the tile wall hits my back, cooling the beads of sweat that trail down my spine. I try my best to flatten myself against it while he saunters over to me, his gaze darkening. He places his left hand next to my head as he studies his right, which is dripping with his blood. His gaze returns to mine slowly as he licks it off his fingers, his gaze intensifying.

“What do you want” I manage to stutter out. He tilts his head to the side, like he doesn’t quite understand my question. 

“Your name. What’s your name?” His voice is soft but deep. 

“What’s it to you?” I say, finding a little bit of courage, I stand taller. He raises an eyebrow and backs up, holding his hand out. 

“I’m Jetton, you can call me Jett though” He gives me a wink and a smirk. I stare at him dumbfounded, is this guy serious? He drops his hand and backs up more, seeing my face turn from frightened to angry. 

“Seriously? First you scare the crap out of me at my locker, then you follow me in the bathroom, the lady’s room might I add, next you look like you’re going to kill me then act like nothing happened? What is wrong with you?” Before I can think about what I’m doing my fist is flying towards his perfect face. My knuckles never make contact though, instead he’s behind me, holding my belt loop to stop my momentum and me from face planting.  

“What the…” I swat his hand away and straighten myself.  

“How are you doing that?” I ask, arms folded.  

“Doing what?” He gives me an innocent look. 

“You’re fast, faster than normal” I realize how crazy I’m sounding but I don’t care. 

“I’m just naturally fast” He winks at me and walks out the door, but I don’t by it.

The final bell rings after 3rd period, letting everyone know its lunch time. Once I force myself in the cafeteria, I pass all the different types of cliques and make my way to my new usual spot: the very back of the cafeteria, almost hidden in shadows. Harper already waits at the tables with her bagged lunch. I plop down across from her and groan out loud, laying my throbbing head down.

“Em! Don’t do that! These tables are so gross” she forces my head up, so I resort to resting my chin in my palms. “Stop being so glum, it’s Friday, meaning party tomorrow!” her eyes gleams with excitement and delight when she bites into her first half of her sandwich.

Ah crap. I completely forgot about that stupid pre-grad party in the woods. A tradition for barely a decade that she’s forcing me to be apart of with her. “I’m not sure about that Harper, I mean I gotta study for finals and…” I start before she gives me her famous puppy eyes that she knows I can’t resist. I groan some more before I finally agree. “Fine, but I refuse to enjoy myself” I say.

“Aren’t you going to eat?” she gives me a worried look, knowing full well that I won’t. I forget to eat a lot and I never feel hungry. Whenever I do get the stomach pains reminding me to do so, I end up throwing up every single time. So, I shake my head, “I don’t have money and I don’t have anything at the house, so” I shrug. She frowns at me, shoving her other half of chicken salad sandwich towards me.

I force some bites down past the nausea before a commotion in the lunchroom distracts me. We direct our attention to the growing crowd of teenagers circling around two guys, one of them being my ex, Nick. And the other being no other than new guy Jetton. Even though Nick is the school’s jock and star quarterback, Jett still has two inches on him. His brown hair is cropped down and he flexes his biceps, trying to size up to Jett’s relaxed frame. He shoves him in the chest, forcing Jett back into the crowd and they go wild.

Before I know what I’m doing, I’m shoving through the crowd and standing between them, back towards Jetton. “what the hell are you doing Nick?” the mob silences, intrigued by the ex-popular girl confronting her ex-boyfriend. He doesn’t look me in the eyes but continues to glare at Jetton.

“Em, move out of the way” nick says firmly but in a soft voice. The guy I know, the kind and sweet man I thought would be my high school sweetheart, was not the one I see right now before me.

“Back off Nick” I say, folding my arms over my chest, signaling that I’m not moving or backing down. It’s a stance that he knows well, considering we dated for two and a half years. He looks down on me, green eyes almost engulfed by his pupils.

“He sat in my spot, I asked him to move and he ignored me” he growls. “Seriously? You’re going to fight over a stupid table? You know if you get in trouble, you’ll lose your scholarship. He’s new, how would he know you’ve marked the spot like a dog. I’ll say it one more time Nick, back off” I reply more firmly. We stare at each other for a minute, both silently demanding the other. He turns away abruptly and storms out of the building, his jock posy following, and the gathering disperses. I let out my breath and slump forward, rubbing my aching temples and turn around.

“I’m sorry about him, he’s usually not like this” I look up at him and he smiles down on me.

“No need to apologize, it’s not your fault” he answers.

“It kind of is though, he’s been like that since we broke up” I fidget with my hands, feeling a tad awkward now. He shoves his fists in the pockets of his black jeans and shifts on his feet.

“how come you guys broke up?” he looks at me curiously and I advert my gaze.

“I had my reasons that I’m not keen on sharing with someone I just met” I say softly, thinking back to that time and my chest tightens. I clear my throat to force the pain to go away. “Anyways, I should get back to my friend” I motion to Harper, who is practically standing on the table in anticipation. He doesn’t look at her, nor does he answer me. I give an awkward wave and powerwalk back to the table, hiding my face.

“Is miss Emery coming back out of her shell or misery and depression?” Harper stares at my wide eyed. I haven’t done something like that since junior year, when I was the definition of ‘Queen Bee’, but in the nice way. It was how I met Harper, back in freshman year when she the new girl halfway through the year. She got picked on by Amanda, who was what a teen movie would consider my rival. I stuck up for Harper and put Amanda and her henchmen in her place in front of the whole school.

I became popular after that, known as the girl who stuck up for people who didn’t have the courage to do it themselves. I used to help people see the beauty in themselves and gain the confidence to show and flaunt it, to stand up against bitches like Amanda and their minions. That’s also how I met Nick and fell for his kindness and compassion towards others, even though he was classified as a jock.

That isn’t me anymore, I stay to myself most of the time. Not even confiding in Harper, who knows every secret and personal aspect of my life. I just don’t want her to worry about me anymore than she already does. So, I don’t say anything, just continue to munch on the sandwich.

Thirty minutes later we are sitting in our fourth period: Latin iii. It’s the second and final class Harper and I share, along with Amanda, Nick, and Jetton. You could say the atmosphere was a more than thick today. It’s usually always bad, but today was extra.

Nick stares at me with sad and gloomy eyes from across the room just like everyday since we broke up, then his gaze shifts to Jetton at the back class and they turn to anger. Amanda shoots golden colored daggers my way, like always, and Harper shoots her own back. I turn away when Jett stares at me. I swear the tension is enough to suffocate an elephant.

The class drags by, but the bell finally rings, and I basically run out and away from the testosterone imbalance. I wave goodbye to Harper, telling her I’ll text her after detention and carry on with my day. The rest of the day goes by at the speed of a blind grandma walking across the highway. Aka, slow as hell.

It’s finally time for detention and as I enter the library, I see Nic sitting in middle of the study area. He looks up as I walk in and his eyes sparkle before falling once again. I eternally scream as I take a seat in the back corner, away from him. It doesn’t work too well as he gets up and walks over to me.

“Hey Em…” he trails off and stands there awkwardly.

“What do you want Nick?” I as without looking up, pulling my textbooks out of my bag.

“Well, I guess someone told the principal about the mix up in the cafeteria and he gave me a week o detention instead of kicking me off the team. If it had gone any further, I’m sure that wouldn’t have been an option. So, thanks, ya know, for stepping in” he says shyly.

“You’re welcome” I say in a flat tone.

“Seriously Emery, you had no reason to do it, it’s not like,” he clears his throat against the hurt I see in his eyes, “it’s not like we’re dating anymore” he finishes.

“I didn’t do it for you. You freaked out on Jetton for no reason” I reply in a harsher tone that intended. He takes a deep breath against his rising anger. He’s been super moody lately, and I’m starting to doubt its only because of the breakup. Before he gets the chance to answer, Jetton walks in nonchalantly, immediately seeing us and sauntering over. He slaps nick on the back, jolting him forward some. He’s slim but strong apparently.

“Sorry ‘bout earlier, didn’t mean to offend you in anyway” he says while squeezing his shoulder. I look back and forth between them, waiting for Nick’s outburst. Instead, he shoves his hand off and walks away. Jett stares after him, a victorious smirk on his lips.

“I know your still new and trying to make friends, or enemies, but you shouldn’t push him like that. He hasn’t been himself this year” I say when he looks at me playfully.

“Is that because he’s still brooding over you dumping him?” he turns the chair around and sits with his arms drooped over the back in one swift motion. I open my mouth to ask how he knows but he cuts me off. “People talk, it wasn’t hard to find out you were the ‘power couple’ of the place.” He uses air quotes and I blush.

“Then I guess you also figured out why” I say, and he nods his head. We fall into awkward silence before he perks up, like he wants to say something but the principal walks in at the same moment, He demands everyone to be quiet for the next two hours. In those couple of hours in silence, Jett continues to sit across from me, occasionally passing me notes or showing me random doodles on his notebooks.

His notes contain little pieces of information about him or famous quotes or even cheesy jokes that almost make me laugh. I find his favorite color is a deep purple, his favorite food is anything not vegan, and his middle name is Wyatt. No brothers, sisters, parents, or known relatives. Alone, just like me.

Jetton insists on walking me to my car when we are released at 6:30, saying that I don’t know what could be lurking. I roll my eyes but allow him.

“So, I heard there’s this wild party tomorrow night out in the woods” he says.

“You sure find out a lot of things pretty fast. But yea, unfortunately there is” I sigh.

“You don’t party?” he asks.

“Not really my thing”

“So, you’re not going then?” he asks, sounding disappointed.

“No, I am. My best friend is forcing me. Says it will break my ‘depression shell’ I’ve apparently built around myself” I snort out. “Are you going?” I find myself hopeful that he will say yes. I feel comfortable around him and he’s the first, besides Harper, to make me feel like my life is still normal. Treating me like a person instead of walking on glass around me. He seems to push away my anxiety and I’ve realized I don’t have a splitting headache like I would normally this time of day.

He looks down at me, eyes sparkling with delight and a mischievous grin. “booze and drugs in middle of a dark and dreary woods with no adults? Sounds like my kind of scene” he says, making me laugh. We reach my old beat up ’67 impala, my dads prized possession.

“I guess I’ll see you tomorrow then” he says when I open my door, backing away slowly. “I guess so” I close the door behind me, finally feeling some excitement for tomorrow night.

[essieignis-blog]

Tale through Time, Part One

I fell through a black space, void of color and sound. I drifted along endless black waves that carried me through time and space, never ending. My body hovered in a vacuum less void for what felt like eternity before it dumped me onto wet leaves and long, scratchy grass. The forest is full of life, birds, mice, deer, and other creatures whose home is so wet.

The sky is dark with rain clouds and the musty smell of a fresh woodland shower still hangs in the air. Aside from the fact that my memory is blank of the past few years, I have no way of knowing how long I have been lying on the ground. My clothes are soaked with rain and my bones are so cold they are rattling. I need to move, I need to walk, find shelter, and rest.

The next few hours are all a cold wet blur, I released my mind of shock and accepted the primal instinct of survival to get me through. Before I find enough wood to start a fire, I need to hunt for an unoccupied cave for protection. My shirt is thin and ripped, my jeans are intact but wet, my shoes are still on my feet and I have both of them, that is something to be thankful for. Yet I have no wallet, no keys, and no phone. Shelter, I need shelter, then I can worry about finding a town and getting help, right now the forest has just a few hours before dark I won’t be able to find any town in the dark.

The tree’s of the forest seem to be leading me in a specific direction if that direction is home, I have no idea. The plants all look the same, the animal’s all sound the same, and the rain has started to pummel against my frozen skin. I wandered around the forest looking for shelter, food, and dry wood, until I walked right onto a dirt and gravel road. Still surrounded by trees and animals, I felt a little closer to civilization then when I was walking aimlessly through the woods. Even though I have no idea which direction to embark on now.

I stand in the misting rain waiting for the universe to show me a sign. If I walk to the right I could walk out of wherever I am, if I choose the left, I could be walking straight into some ones private property, and vice versa. The honest truth is that I have no idea what path to choose. As if the earth itself wanted me to decide even faster, I can now hear the soft galloping of hooves from my right side. I have no intention of being willingly caught by the people who own this property, but what choice do I have? No phone, and no food. With my mind made up I stood on the road and waited for the rider of the horse to approach.

I can hear the hooves pounding the earth as it runs, I can hear the men yelling. Suddenly, as if my mind split in two, I realized several things, I must be North Dakota, I haven’t heard a car, or semi on the highway in hours, and it is the only thing I can remember before my memory went blank, aside from needing to find help. I realized that one horse suddenly sounds like six, and each horse is occupied by a rider. My instincts battled with my own stubbornness. I want to stay and meet these riders, even if it is to settle the score with myself. Logic blossomed then, or the intense feeling that something is wrong became too great to fight. Whatever the reason I found myself scurrying back in the tree line and crouching behind a large, sturdy fallen tree right before the beasts round the corner.

Six riders clad in black cloaks with weapons drawn appeared like black lightning from the corner. Horses pushed to the max of their strength as the riders yell back and forth to each other, I can hear bits and pieces of the conversation but nothing substantial enough to understand their need for speed. Before I could identify the chaos on my own, the source of the disturbance burst from the wooded corner like a crimson wave of justice. Nine red cloaked riders rode after the black lightning at top speed. These men were not talking simply focused on the task of the chase. One man leads the others, his black and red cloak flying in the wind like a symbol of right and wrong, good and bad, peace and justice. His black horse stood strong and unyielding, even beneath the urges of his master the horse appeared in little hurry to catch up to the ragged black riders. With their tired horses wheezing from poor care and misuse.

I detached myself from my hiding place and resolved to sit on the log instead of hide behind it. The last few riders passed by me with no more than a glance. I assume I look rather rough and out of place, with my long black locks tousled this way and that, my ripped shirt, my face and arms smeared with mud and other tasteless crumbles from the earth. What am I to do now? I just watched a movie scene in person. If all goes well soon the crew will pop out and start yelling at me about being in their shot, then I can get a phone and call, who exactly? My memory is still hazy but I know I have a home, someone to call, somewhere to go other than a movie set. I must remember someone’s number, there has to be someone waiting for my call.

I start to fight with my shock and panic again while I wait for a crew member to scold me on ruining their perfect take. The rain is starting up again, harder than before and I am afraid that no crew member is going to come waltzing out to help me. The birds and other beasts of the forest are silent now waiting for the thunderstorm on the horizon to shake the trees. Huddled in their warm dry homes away from chasing bandits and covered from the freezing downpour. I peeled myself off of the log and walked back down to the road.

Hot tears formed in the corners of my eyes and I began to weep. What for I could not say. I’m lost. Surrounded by unfamiliar woods with no idea who, or where I was before today. My instincts long forsaken me, I give in to my dread and kneel in the road until my eyes ran dry, at least from my own tears. As if echoing my sadness the storm has picked up, roaring in the sky above me and making the ground shake. I stood, wiped my eyes of tears, and turned left toward the black and red riders.

Finding my way along the road is much easier than trudging through leaves and trees. The storm hasn’t let up one iota and I am beginning to think that the riders may have rode too far for me to reach, yet I keep walking hoping someone will show themselves soon. A tree branch broke close enough for me to hear, I turned in time to see a fuming man dressed in black fly out of the trees and toward me. I retreated to the other side of the road dodging the wild man’s attacks. I spotted a fallen branch a few paces to my left, angling as best I can in this condition I try to get closer to the branch without taking a slice from the crazed sword. He swings his blade wide, wide enough for my small frame to snuggle close to him, tree branch forgotten I move in. My right heel goes down hard on his foot as I reach up and hold the joint of his elbow, taking away his free movement I use my other hand to grab his shoulder and bring my knee to his chest. He buckles giving me the last chance I will need to end this little skirmish.

I grab his sword hand with both of mine and yanked hard on the sword, it slid like butter from his grasp. He lunges, recovering enough for a panic attack, I swing my right hand up intending to block, instead slapping him across the face with the back of my hand hard enough to send him flying backward. Red shadows dance along the corners of my eyes, encouraging me to pursue my prey, to end this silly duel. I sprang into the air landing on the man's chest with my knees, the sword held high above my head, I slash.

Time seems to slow, the rain pauses it’s endless shower long enough to carry the blood curdling sound of metal hitting metal to my ears. The man in black below me, eyes wide with fear and wonder I see nothing else, only the slow recession of red rage. My sword is parried with ease, sliding on it’s steel shaft with enough force to knock the blade from my hand and fly gracefully through the air, landing hilt up in the ground.

“By order of Camelot you will release this man from your knees.”

A deep husky, yet somehow musical voice spoke through the thunderous rain. I looked up into the indigo colored eyes of a man with authority and power. That much is easily discerned, other men surround me and the rider in black. With a sharp sword point at my throat I yield to these mysterious riders, standing up from my battle and facing the blue eyed blond haired beauty in front of me. Towering above me at six feet I stand at my full five feet nine inches, daring him to force his authority on me.

Men moved around us to collect the rider and the sword was lowered from my throat. Feeling a bit safer I rolled my shoulders back and relaxed a little. The rider in black and red watched me with curious eyes.

“What is your name?” He asked sounding honestly curious about what kind of name I have. That would make two of us. My mind raced to find the answer, not for this man but for me. What is my name? Suddenly, as if the tides of the air pushed in on my stomach forcing me to utter a single word I say, “Emery.” Not knowing if that is my true name I do not falter, especially with my voice sounding so weak, this causes the man to lower his sword even further.

“Why are you here?” Another good question, why am I here? Better yet how did I get here? This time the air will not help me, and the universe has left me to my own devices. All I can do is stare blankly at the tall blond viking man with indigo eyes and pray he sees me as an ally.

“What are we going to do with her my Lord?” A man asked behind the tall one, disrupting the tingling silence between the two of us. “Bind her hands, we are taking her back to Camelot.” Obviously I am not viewed as an ally. My hands properly tied, I was helped up onto a horse that a large man with shoulder length wavy hair rode. His face looks as if the Gods themselves carved it out and kissed it with their lips of magic cursing him with wild viking beauty. He smiled at me while I was being launched onto his saddle, “My name is Lancelot, I hope I don’t ride too rough for the lady.” He said in my ear, hot breath warming the skin on my neck and rousing goose flesh all over my body.

“On me.” The blond haired beauty said after all the men are mounted, two of them with extra weight, they formed a tight formation around the man. When he roused his lazy black stallion to a gallop the men followed his example. Soon we were back on the road heading toward the direction of who knows what. The last thing I see that I recognize is the log I so foolishly crawled out from behind of. If only I had waited to see if the riders returned I could have followed them to a city, or town, instead of getting caught up in this intense LARP-ing match. Instead I let my emotions get the better of me and I victimized myself instead of preparing myself for a long walk. I vow to keep calm and learn until I can get myself home, wherever that may be.

Within a few miles of constant gallop my body started to shake uncontrollably. With the excitement of the fight, and the sudden view of two ancient viking Gods revealing themselves to me, I didn’t have time to realize how cold I am. My fingers are visibly blue, I can’t feel my toes in my shoes or the ropes around my wrists. My hair feels like icicles on my skin and the plastered locks on my back only help the cold dig deeper into my flesh. A flash of red swooped across my tired eyes view, Lancelot’s cloak settled over my chest and arms. I heard a snap at my neck and before I cared where his hands were lying I felt him slide them under the cloak and settle on the reigns. His forearms resting on my frozen thighs. The warmth of his cloak reminded me of a Winter fire, his smell still lingering like cedar chips and earth on his cloak. I lean into him not caring how I smell just needing to be warm. His chest is hard against my back and warm through his chain mail. Little heat escaped his armor at first but slowly I start to feel my back warm and my body relax. I laid my head on his shoulder and closed my eyes. The last thing I remember before letting sleep take me away is bright green trees reaching toward the cloudy sky.

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