#a million years later i can finally get you your starter; my dear

[rhea-florent]

Location: The Reach, Highgarden Closed starter for @lucreziasredwyne​​

That council meeting in the dead of night still haunted her. The news that were delivered still felt surreal at times, like that void brutally carved out into their lives and the suffering the former Hand of the King surely endured couldn’t be true. Each of the members of the council mourned Mathis’ death in their own particular ways, most of them being more private during the first few days that followed. Those of the Old Way had their appropriate traditions, the prayers and rites and Rhea had given them the space to devote themselves to it. When the time was right, she made sure Lu knew she had a friend in her to go through this.

It became a bit of a habit after some days, for the Mistress of Whispers to request to have some tea and biscuits brought to Lady Redwyne’s chambers. It was a nice thing, Rhea had to admit, to have some quality time with a friend despite being grief what originated these little meetings. The Mistress of Whispers had had very few positive female presences in her life, particularly growing up, and having made friends with Lucrezia in their teenage years was a rare treasure she didn’t take for granted. The fact that such a bond was rekindled in the past year and nurtured by both the blessings and misfortunes of life made the Mistress of Whispers appreciate the Mistress of Ships all the more. “Lu?” she asked with two knocks on the door, glancing at the maid who carried the tray for her. “I have some treats and hot tea. May I come in?”

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 24: Blame It On The Juice

We finally arrive at the tavern and take a seat at a small table near the bar. Arthur is the only one to remain standing up, and he leans closer so I can hear him over the chatter.

“First round’s on me, darling. What would you like?” he asks. I ponder for a moment before answering.

“I’ve always wanted to try absinthe.” He nods, and looks over at Theo.

“Whiskey for me, half water.”

A few minutes later he returns, balancing three glasses between his hands, and proceeds to set them down on the table, careful not to spill any of them. Outside, it has begun to pour like there’s no tomorrow.

“Pernod Fils for the lady,” he says, imitating a waiter, “and whiskey for the ratbag.” Theo punches his arm, scowling, and sips his drink, making me laugh. Judging by the amount of teasing and insults between these two, they could either be good friends or truly hate each other. I know it is the former, because they seem to spend a lot of time together. They even walk their dogs at the same time every morning, and they do so willingly.

I take a small sip of the pearly green liquid, and am surprised by the sweet taste of anise and fennel in the drink.

“Yo, this is good,” I point out, satisfied. I lift my glass when I notice Arthur doing the same, and Theo begrudgingly joins in.

“To the green fairy, may she bless our dear Anaïs for the first time!” toasts the writer, holding back a laugh. I follow in with my own comedic announcement.

“To the Salon des Refusés du Salon des Refusés!” I say, jokingly, referring to Theo’s exhibition. The groundbreaking art I saw there would have been criticized even by the rejects of this time. “And to your and Vincent’s success, of course!”

“That, I can get behind,” Theo chuckles. “To you idiots.” He punctuates his covertly affectionate statement by taking a gulp of whisky, and Arthur and I follow suit. “So, hondje, you know about art. What is it like in your time?”

I am taken aback by the question. I don’t really know where to begin.

“Well... For starters, it’s incredibly different. To understand it one needs to know the history behind it, you know? Like, what happened between now and then for it to get to that point,” I explain, pausing to take another sip of absinthe. Theo leans forward on his chair, his blue eyes piercing me with interest. “I guess the main movement that started everything would be Dadaism. Do you know about World War One?” Theo shakes his head.

“One? By Jove, there are more?!” Arthur exclaims. I nod, my brows knitted together. If he lived through the first one, the Great War, I am concerned about how he might react if I continue. He seems to want to know more, so I keep talking.

“Arthur, if I remember correctly you died a few years before the second one. What was it, 1920 something?”

“1930,” he corrects me.

“Well, the Second World War started in 1939. It lasted for about six years, and it was brutal. But that’s not the point of this conversation.” I turn to Theo. “So, as you can tell by the name, the First World War was, well... massive. Pretty much all of Europe was involved and severely affected, both by the unprecedented death toll and the poverty that came after. People suffered while the rich clung to what they had, and the art world became increasingly inaccessible. You’ve seen yourself how conservative the elite can be when it comes to their precious culture.” He agrees with a nod. “So a movement emerged in response to this traditionalism, which some artists deemed unacceptable in a world where all of the rules had seemingly been broken already, and devastatingly so. I don’t know where the name came from, but Dadaism represents all the nonsense, everything that is irrational and ugly and primal. What these people were making was basically anti-art. Instead of it being aesthetically pleasing, their work strived to create a reaction in the viewer, to make them think.” I pause to drink again, and glance at Arthur. He knows what I’m talking about, he lived through it.

“And what does it look like?” Theo asks. I laugh.

“Oof, good question. It can look like anything, from sculptures made of random objects piled together to drawings and prints... More than anything, Dadaism was a concept, an ideology. It established that art should be reactionary, and not necessarily for the pleasure of the viewer. This became the basis for what in my time we call ‘conceptual art’, which is basically anything that makes a statement without it being explicit in the piece.”

“Like a riddle?” Arthur asks. He has already finished his glass of whisky.

“Something like that,” I chuckle. “But not always. One of the most outrageous ones I can remember is this man, Piero Manzoni. In the 60s... the 1960s, that is, he produced a series of cans labeled as ‘Artist’s Shit’, supposedly filled with... well, his own shit. It was meant as a critique of the art world at the time.” Theo’s eyes widen, and I hear Arthur let out a boisterous laugh. “Apparently one of his friends said that they were actually filled with plaster, but no one really knows for sure, because they’re too valuable to be opened. I think one of them was auctioned for like 300.000 euros.”

“Euros?” Theo asks after sipping his whisky, trying to recover from the surprise.

“Oh, right, that’s a new thing,” I remember. “So after that Second World War I mentioned before, a bunch of countries in Europe created a coalition, to protect the peace, and all that. And then, around the time I was born, it became a proper union and they changed the money, so we all use euros now. Well, then. Then?” I take a big sip of absinthe and savor it for a moment, frustrated with my own tangled words. “Ugh, time travel is so confusing. Anyway, one of those cans is worth, like, 100 million francs in ‘right now’ money, I think.”

Theo chokes on his drink. Arthur is just staring at me with his mouth hanging open, completely incredulous at my nonchalant statement.

“That is absolutely preposterous,” he finally says. I shrug.

“I guess that proves Manzoni’s point, doesn’t it?” I down what’s left of the absinthe and set the glass in the middle of the table. Arthur scoffs.

“No, no, she’s right.” I am surprised to hear Theo agree with me. He looks rather impressed. “Collectors will buy anything with the right name attached to it. Artist’s shit,” he laughs. “That’s brilliant.”

Maybe it’s his adorable dimples, or maybe it’s the alcohol running through my veins, but I have the sudden urge to mock him.

“Wow, who knew you had a sense of humor, knabbeltje!” I put emphasis on the word, causing him to blush, which subsequently makes me giggle. Arthur puts his fist up, laughing, and I bump it. “Ayyy, you learnt it!”

Theo gets up abruptly, and for a moment I fear I have offended him, but I relax when I see him walk towards the bar. He soon comes back with only two glasses, and leaves again to get his own. I sip my new drink, also containing the green liquor from before, and let out a little moan.

“This drink slaps,” I declare, and Arthur tilts his head in confusion.

“Slaps? Gods, Anaïs, it’s like you’re speaking an entirely different language.” I laugh and proceed to tell him about the ‘snack’ thing, how Theo called me a ‘knabbeltje’ and I took it as a compliment, so now he can’t use it on me anymore. Arthur laughs too when I finish the story. “Oh my, is that why he was blushing? Here I was thinking you two might have- Ow!”

I elbow him before he can finish the sentence, in part because I don’t need to hear it, and in part because I see Theo approaching. When he sits down, Arthur’s face lights up with an idea. I wonder what he’s plotting.

“Let’s play a game,” he says. “Bet I can deduce something about each of you. If I’m right, you drink, and if I’m wrong, I drink. Anaïs,” he turns to me. “There is something between you and Leonardo. You two have been in an awfully good mood lately.” I blush and sip my drink. “Ha! I knew it! Our sweet darling and our dear friend have been basket making in secret,” he exclaims. Judging by his face, I assume that’s an euphemism for sex.

“We have not!” I smack his arm. Although that doesn’t mean I wouldn’t like to. “Okay, my turn. Theo!” I choose loudly, pointing my finger at the art dealer. “You act so tough because you’re protective of Vincent and want to be taken seriously so nobody messes with him.”

Theo drinks before clearing his throat, and then turns to his friend.

“The reason you’re being so annoying lately is because you’re jealous of Leonardo,” he states. Arthur simply leans back on his chair with a smirk.

“Drink,” he commands. Theo obliges. “You have already scoured this bar for my next potential conquest, and you disapprove of all the options.” Theo drinks again.

“Is that what you do when you’re not pestering Sebastian for more coffee?” I laugh. Then a thought occurs to me. “How do they not find out about...? You know,” I ask, tapping my canine with a fingernail. I can’t risk saying it out loud in a place so crowded.

“They simply look like love bites, dear,” Arthur winks. “And they are, in a sense.”

“Huh.” I tilt my head, trying to imagine what that would be like, but I fail and move on to the game. “You sleep around so much to try to forget your guilt.”

Finally, he drinks. I don’t know what he feels guilty about, but I could recognize that emotion on anyone. However, I don’t ask any further. I do not want to pry.

He changes the topic by pulling a deck of cards from his pocket. I guess he does not like losing at his own game.

[harringrovehouse]

AU where Steve’s Mother is from a small town in the Northern most part of Alaska and they’re just a little too much into Christmas.

Steve takes Billy ‘home’ the second year they’re together, because now Steve’s sure Billy’s the one, the person he’s going to spend the rest of his life with and Steve wants his extended family to get to know Billy. So he takes Billy with them to Derevnyasanty, Alaska to the village his grandparents own. It’s rustic, and red and everything is covered with wreaths and holly, and all the residents are much shorter than the standard American. Steve talks Billy’s ear off about his four Aunts and their nine daughters.

“Dancers! All nine of them! It’s nuts man, let me tell you how many times I had to watch their routines growing up!!” Billy watches Steve ramble with a dopey smile on his face. “I have to warn you that my Nana, Mary, she’ll probably try to force feed you milk and cookies the second you get inside the house, we can work those off later, and my Aunt Noel will need our help checking her many, many lists! She’s got one for every member of the family, sorry. I hope Auntie Christy isn’t gonna ask you to dress up as Santa with me, they think it’s funny cause I’m the only boy. Every year I get this huge red coat and this massive black boots but we go to the local children’s clinic and I get to play ‘Santa’ for the day so it isn’t too bad. Aunt Carol is in charge of the deer, she makes sure they’re all penned up for the night and by the time we get there she will just be starting to round them up, can’t wait to see you rope a deer.”

“Just after my body, and at Christmas none the less.” Billy winked and Steve snorted, leaning into the wheel as he laughed.

“My Aunt Tinsel is the youngest, so her kids are pretty young too. They always need help repairing gifts and she’s also in charge of wrapping for the older kids so she’ll definitely need our help at some point.” Steve tossed Bilyl an apologetic look as he turned the car down brick road.

“Tinsel?”

“Yeah. Like the decorations. My family is pretty into Christmas, all my Aunts are born in the summer but they all have Christmasy names. It’s weird but kinda cool.” Steve shrugged. “Even my mom’s name is Christmas themed. She’s Eve, and my Aunt Christy is Christmas. They’re twins.” Billy opened his mouth to ask why on Earth anyone would name their babies Christmas Eve when Steve turned the car again and they came to a stop in front a huge white gold gate. It stood open, a clear invitation that anyone was welcome. Billy stared in awe at the gate, marveling at the beautiful red ribbon that wrapped around the bars, making the whole gate look like a million dollar candy cane. “They never close the gate, I don’t even think the pinpad works anymore.” Steve smiled as he continued up the drive.

Billy marveled as the large main house came into view. It was a huge stone and log cabin, it’s many windows adorn with lights and bushy wreaths. Tiny candles sat on each sill, a bussle of holly under them. Steve beamed at him and Billy stared back, this was a damn winter wet dream.

“Come on, we’ll grab the bags later!” Steve smiled wider and Billy wondered when his cheeks became so red.

“Wear your scarf babe! You’re cheeks are so rosy.” Billy followed Steve out of the car, tightening his scarf as he made his way towards the red front door. A huge pine cone wreath hung between the stain glass panels set in the door. The heavy smell of baking hung around the house, and warmed Billy’s insides. Behind them Steve’s mother and father climbed out of their own car, Eve Harrington smiling ear to ear as she rushed forward, throwing the door open for them.

“Mama! Papa!” She called out. “Tinny! Carol! Christy! Noel!” The sound of dozens of voices chattering away stoped and then an explosion of noise happened, and what seemed to be hundreds of people decended upon them. Billy let out a small yelp as a wave of hands pulled Steve and Eve into the house, leaving him and Jack Harrington standing on the porch.

“Don’t relax just yet.” Jack sent Billy a dark look. “They’ll realize we’re here any second.” And sure enough, a woman slightly older than Eve turned to look at them. Her huge amber eyes widening as she detatched herself from the huge group and made her way to them. She beamed at Billy, and gave Jack a curt look.

“And this must be Billy! Our little Stevie new turtle dove!” Billy nodded, he’s never heard anyone refer to someone’s boyfriend as their ‘turtle dove’. “Hi Jack Frost, blow into to any foreign ports lately?” Billy tired not to snort at the look Jack Harrington gave his sister in law. “Come in! Mama is just finising dinner, once that’s done we’ll put the deer away and then we can eat.” So this must be Aunt Carol, the deer hearder.

Billy followed Aunt Carol into the house, eyes wide as he took in the many, many pictures on the walls. Images of a young Steve sitting a top a man dressed as Santa’s knee, pictures of young Eve and her sister playing with some deer, a huge red wood sleigh filled with boxes and boxes of gifts sitting outside a hospital surrounded by the family and a few of the patients. They looked like such a happy family, it made Billy feel like an imposter.

“Aren’t they lovely!” A warm voice whispered in his ear, and Billy jumped. Behind him stood a plump woman, her grey hair tucked under a limp red cheifs hat. Nana. “We take one every year! The one from last year us above the mantle, come on.” She lead Billy through a maze of halls and into a massive living room. A fire roared in the harth, and a massive 10 foot tall Christmas tree sat in the corner. Presents of every color sat under and in it’s heavy branches. Steve and his mother sat surrounded by people in the middle of the room. Their eyes sparkled, and their skin glowed. Everyone in the room looked like something out of a water color Christmas card. Billy’s mouth fell open, as he watched the scene. “It’s so wonderful to have everyone here for Christmas.” Nana said as she tucked her hands into her apron. “Come help me bring out the coco Billy, then I’ll have them all introduce themselves to you properly.” Billy nodded, following Nana into the kitchen. Where a little over a dozen people were working.

They were short people, and Billy felt bad for staring at them until he saw their ears. Pointed ears, that stuck out under their hair and hats. Elfs? One of them smiled, and handed Billy a tray before returning to her large pot. No, people wearing costumes, right! Nana began loading cup after cup onto the tray, smiling as she dropped different colored marshmallows into each of the cups.

“And a blue one for Billy, you’re favorite color.” Billy wrinkled his nose in embarrassment, Steve didn’t need to tell his family everything about Billy! “Come on now dear.” She lead him back into the living room and guilded him to an ornate coffee table and helped him set the tray down. “Okay, now the fun begins!” And then she starter calling out names. The youngest to the oldest. It started with a small girl, Joy, no older than two, who pushed herself up onto shaky legs and waddled over to her grandma. Billy handed her a small sippy cup filled with warm milk and a sinlge pink marshmellow. Five more girls followed little Joy, Faith, Hope, Ella, Fae, Nicole, before Billy was handed his cup, and then Steve, who got a cup shaped like a Santa. His family giggled and Steve blushed, sipping his coco happily nonetheless. Next the last three girls were called, Mary, May and Dove, then their mothers, Tinsel, Noel, Eve, Christmas and Carol. Finally Nana took her cup, blowing softly at the steam. Six cups remained on the tray, Billy glanced down at them wondering for the first time were the husbands and fathers of these girls were. “They’re in the den downstairs dear, watching the game of all things!” Nana laughed. “Papa is in his work shop right now, I was actually wondering if you and Stevie would take him his coco and remind him that dinner is almost ready. He’s so busy at the moment, but his family still needs him.” Nana lifted the only lidded cup and set it in Billy’s free hand.

Steve disentangled himself from his manu aunts and cousins and made his way over to Billy. “Let me guess, we’re on workshop duty?” Nana laughed softly.

“Well someone needs to stay here and make sure the ham doesn’t burn!” Steve pressed a soft kiss to her cheek before taking the cup from Billy and motioning for him to follow.

“My Granddad’s workshop is in the back yard. He builds toy prototypes for a company based in Anchorage.”

“He makes toys?” Billy asked, carefully avoiding a second smaller tree in the hall that lead to the backdoor. A pile of boots lay next to the door, coats of every color and size lay on the bench next to the huge pile, Steve picked through them before eventually finding his and Billy’s.

“Yeah. Toys of every kind! Some stay here in the US, others go overseas to like Japan and stuff.” Billy shrugged his coat on, taking the cup back from Steve who shrugged his coat on while Billy waited by the back door. “You’d be surprised how in demand toys are.” Steve lead him out of the backdoor and down a stone path, to a second even larger cabin. Smoke billowed from the many chimneys and music could be heard from just behind the doors and windows. Steve didn’t even bother knocking, just pushed his way inside. Billy followed at a slower pace, every bit of Steve family home was amazing. This workshop was filled with toys, old toys, new toys, pictures of toys that dated to the victorian era if Billy was correct.

His mind whirled. Steve’s family was in the toy making business, had been for apprently hundreds of years, they employed short people with ears so pointy they could probably pop balloons, they were obsessed with Christmas, had a freaking deer in their yard. This had to be a joke, Billy turned to smile at Steve who seemed utterly clueless that Billy’s mind seemed to be playing tricks on him. There was no way, Steve’s familt wasn’t, they couldn’t be.

“Oh! There he is!” Steve said pointing up the winding stairs to a figure. A figure all in red, with heavy boots on and a fuzzy hat.

Billy watched, mouth open as the man turned around to face them. His cheeks red, and his smile huge. His belly shook as he laughed, a latge booming ‘Stevie!’ echoed around them followed by what could only be described as a ‘hohoho’. Billy felt Steve take the cup of coco from him, which was good because Billy was sure he was about to faint as he watched his boyfriend cross in front of the many workers to embrace Santa Claus.

[thorns-and-rosewings]

Wild Things

A gift fic for @ninjacat1515 I hope you enjoy it! ^_^

When Eliza first stepped off the boat and onto Raoul Silva’s private island she could tell almost immediately that something was wrong and it wasn’t just because the goons that had escorted her here wouldn’t come off the ship… in fact, no sooner had she set foot on dry land did the men retreat farther back onto the boat and none of them even bothered to unmoor it. They just tore part of the dock off in their haste to leave as fast as humanly possible.

“Okkaay.” The shifter muttered under her breath as she took note of her surroundings and how everything just seemed eerily quiet. In spite of having known Silva for some time she’d never been to his island before. It wasn’t exactly what she’d expected… truth be told everything just seemed far to quiet and there was a strange and pungent odor in the air that smelled distinctly like… fish?

“Ah, you must be Eliza.” The voice of a woman who had just stepped out from the shadows of a nearby building said politely, although her abrupt appearance did make Eliza jump a bit. Unfortunately, she could not help but be on edge, as he had been at the receiving end of Silvas teeth before. Hell, she’d been chomped by the whole frickin’ family before. Old habits truly did die hard, and being on guard around members of the Salazar family may be something she would never truly lose.

Now the woman before her Eliza knew to be, for lack of better words, Silvas evil secretary. The ‘evil’ part having been literally on her resume when he had acquired her services a little over a year ago. Appearance wise, as she wore an attractive light grey what could only be accurately described as the universal ‘Secretary’s Uniform’ and she was even carrying around a clipboard… although oddly enough she wore what appeared to be running shoes rather than traditional heels. Her eyes could only be described as being a very pale lavender and their unusual color was only accentuated by the pair of glasses she had. Finally her hair which was about shoulder length was of an unusual color, just like her eyes. It was not quite white and not quite light blue, so the nearest word to properly describe it would be the color of ice… although while most of it was properly brushed out and neatly tied back into a low hanging ponytail it looked as though the entire left side of her hair had some kind of gel product in it causing the hair to look distorted and messy. “My name is Dana and we’re so glad you could come on such short notice. Mr. Silva is waiting to speak with you, if you’ll just follow me please.”

“Um… yeah.” Eliza muttered as she hesitantly followed the taller woman. While she could tell the woman wasn’t a vampire, she also was quite sure she wasn’t human either. And whatever she was Eliza had a feeling it wasn’t a particularly cuddly critter. “Silva mentioned something about a problem you guys are having here. But he never got specific beyond the urgency for me to pack my bag and get out here as fast as possible… so what gives?”

“Well…” Dana momentarily trailed off as the sounds of something crashing were heard echoing from somewhere farther inland. But the brief pause allowed Eliza to take notice of a multitude of tears in Danas clothes that exposed a multitude of shallow but nonetheless painful looking cuts. Definitely not the kind of wounds vampires tended to make, and Silva was very against injuring his employees so they were not likely to have come from him… still Dana regained herself and continued moving, although now at a far faster pace. “I’m afraid it’s a very difficult situation to explain.”

“Try me.”

“Mr. Silva will tell you all about it.” She stated firmly effectively ending the conversation for the remainder of their walk. It wasn’t to long before they came to what appeared to be the ruins of what was once an enormous statue and sure enough there was Silva…

Silva may have been smiling his trademark happy yet evil smile but his appearance was… off… to say the least. For starters his pricey suit was a wreck, completely ripped up and completely missing its left sleeve and the biggest red flag was that all the hair on the left side of his head was styled straight upwards with the same gel that was messily smeared in Danas hair as well. It was not a good look, made even more unnerving by how the look in Silva’s eyes practically screamed he was about ready to completely lose it. “Ah welcome dear sweet Eliza!” He said, his voice careful to hide how his obvious agitation behind his usual seemingly happy demeanor.  “Thank you so much for coming here in such a hurry.”

“What’s going on Silva?” Eliza asked flatly.

“Straight to the point as ever? Fine, fine. Walk with me and I will explain everything.” Silva said calmly gesturing with his hand for Eliza to follow him. Immediately Dana was her bosses side and Eliza internally groaned as she realized that she was probably going to have an entire tour of the island before he got to the point. “The story begins a few months ago, surely you’re aware of the most recent problem the world seems to be having. You know, how dinosaurs seem to be popping up everywhere and causing all kinds of mayhem? Of course you know... Why just a few short days ago you had to scare off one of the three-horned beasties that had wandered onto your beloved sanctuary.”

“How did you… you know what nevermind. I don’t think I want to know how you know this stuff.” The shifter growled lowly. Inwardly remembering her complete shock of seeing an actual Triceratops calmly walking through the grounds of her sanctuary. It had been a majestic scene, until the creature took notice of all the people watching it and got spooked and ultimately charged at the gathering of shifters. Resulting in a great deal of property damage and Eliza needing to take the form of Beast in order to drive it away… Although her words did little more than make Silva burst out in a fit of mock laughter.

“Satellites my dear! Nothings easier than commandeering a satellite to just check in on the people I care about the most.” The flashy vampire pointed out although his words didn’t make the fact that he had been spying on her via hacking a satellite any less disturbing.

“You have entirely too much free time and too many toys.”

“Regardless.” He said waving off the young woman’s obvious annoyance. “Well you’re sure to find out sooner or later. But the truth is that the animals were rescued from their now molten crater of a home, only to be sold off to anyone who could afford them. Be it arms dealers, pharmaceutical companies or big-game hunters.” Silva paused, noting how Eliza had stopped walking and was now staring at him with a look filled with nothing short of abject horror. “Not exactly a happy story I’m afraid, but it’s important that you know the origins of my current dilemma.”

“Silva, tell me you didn’t have anything to do with all mayhem that’s going on now.” The shifter demanded.

“Of course I’m not responsible for things ending up as crazy as they are now! However…” He trailed off, clearly looking for the right words in order to continue his story. “You see… In recent times I’ve had some unpleasant dealings with a Russian arms dealer. Nasty fellow, got on my nerves relatively quickly and even had the audacity to sell me a cache of weapons that were nothing but duds! So, when I heard that he was attending this little event in order to acquire some dangerous carnivores to be his own personal attack dogs I just had to be a thorn in his side and purchase whatever creature he really wanted the most. So, I sent Dana to the auction on my behalf.”

“And that is when the trouble began.” Dana acknowledged, just as Eliza suddenly noticed that the evil secretary had gone quite pale and looked like she was ready to become physically sick. But she suppressed it masterfully and continued on… “Our target became very interested in a prototype creature called an Indoraptor. You remember the stories about the Indominus Rex? Well this creature is a smaller derivative of that beast. And naturally, we outbid him…”

“However the preview model was not the one that we received.” Silva groaned apparently too distracted to have taken notice of his secretaries’ moment of sickness. “That one got lose or something… But right when I thought I blew $29 million. A beast was delivered to my lovely home.”

“So let me get this straight… You bought a breed of dinosaur that is pretty much a living weapon and I’m going to just take a shot in the dark here; it’s running loose all over this island and trying to kill everyone and everything?” She stared at the vampire, honestly not entirely sure what to think of his entire story. But the one thing was becoming painfully clear… When any kind of revenge or payback was involved, in spite of his vast intellect… Silva was a complete moron driven only by his anger and no common sense.

Sensing the young woman’s ire the blond man sighed and rubbed his temples. “Yes and no.” He muttered. “I received an Indoraptor all right, but I can definitely see why they did not show this one as the preview model! If they had it would’ve made the geneticist a laughing stock!”

“What-”

“He’s cuddly.” The vampire said flatly. “2000 pounds of raw muscle, teeth and claws and the damn thing is freaking cuddly. Mind you when we first received it, it was showing all the signs of an abused animal. Even had terrific scarring on its hide, like someone beat it with chains and then let the wounds get infected and the animal then scratched them raw. It was actually quite sad… But we fed him, gave it a large room to stalk around in, mostly while we were trying to figure what the heck to actually do with him, because I will admit I didn’t exactly plan this out as well as I should have.” He paused as a small smile creeped onto his features. “Until one day one of the feeders left the latch on the door open and he got out… we prepared for the worst, only low and behold. The big beastie was like a giant cat. All he wanted was pets and hugs. It was hilarious! But I was able to have this creature stalking around my home while I’m speaking with my business clientele and they are completely terrified him. Usually begging me not to sick it on them. Thus, negotiations almost always went my way…”

“Or at least that’s how things were until recently.” Dana muttered. “All of a sudden his personality has completely flipped. I watched him drag away one of our employees the other day. As you have noticed the majority of our staff got on a boat and is remaining offshore until things calm down, cant say I blame them… considering we have a multitude of personnel who are still missing and we can only assume that they are either in hiding or dead. I’m guessing dead because or so called pet, went for both Raoul and myself.”

“Thing about abused animals,” Eliza said calmly, carefully noting how Dana had accidentally referred to Silva by his first name. “some can be overly affectionate out of fear, and when they aren’t afraid anymore… you better watch out.”

“Thanks a lot Dr. Dolittle.” Dana injected flatly. “Point is, Indigo is now out of control and needs to be dealt with.”

“Indigo?”

“Its name, apparently they were identified by colors in place of names.” Silva said as more visible cracks in his demeanor and he smiled in a semi insane way. “Now this is where you come in, dear Eliza. I need you to go in there and take care of this problem for me. I would be beyond grateful for your assistance!”

“All right, this is the part where I tell you to go screw yourself. You’re the idiot went and bought an animal you can’t control! Besides, just what would you have me do about it anyway?!”

“We are aware that you can turn into a Tyrannosaurus Rex.” Dana injected. “Our hope was that you could… deal with our little problem before things get even more out of control than they already are.”

Now it all made sense and truth be told Eliza wasn’t having any of it. They expected her to come all this way only to get into a vicious and bloody fight? Well they had another thing coming for them! “Oh no, I am not getting all ripped up because you-”

“If you do this for me, I’ll completely pay for all the damages the dinosaur rampage inflicted on your sanctuary.” Silva broke down and literally pleaded. “I am begging you! He’s driving me absolutely crazy!!!” Now Eliza had seen many things over the course of her life that most people would never believe. But the sight of Raoul Silva, perhaps the greatest hacker in the world, clearly on the razors edge of sanity was definitely one of the most unnerving… Dare she say it, she felt… bad for him… In spite of everything that happened between them, she still felt bad for him.

God damn it…

(20 Minutes Later)

 Eliza cautiously made her way through the winding labyrinth of buildings and wreckage that covered the majority of Silva’s Island. Armed with only her natural born instincts as a shifter and a walkie-talkie to communicate with Dana and Silva when the deed was done. She had been told that the Indoraptor had been seen predominantly around the building that housed Silva’s computer mainframe and network systems. So that was the place she was beginning her hunt.

Upon reaching the building she cautiously open the door and peered inside only to be greeted with the sight of what had undoubtedly driven Silva insane… well more insane… a mountain of destroyed computer equipment.

Eliza whistled in an impressed way as a few sparks of electricity erupted out of some exposed wires. “No wonder Silva is losing his mind. I always imagined nothing would make him want to cry more than the sound of his precious computers breaking.” Just inside and got nearer the wreckage, only to become fully aware of the strange sound that sounded bizarrely like a voice… granted it was very low and laced with static, almost as though it was generated by one of the destroyed computers that littered the ground.

“Sssssiilvva?” The voice came through the static again. Only it seemed to be even more garbled, yet still the single word it was saying was discernable. Eliza stopped feeling her heart fall into her stomach as a massive form moved out of the shadows of the room.

It was big, not T Rex big… but still pretty darn big. Its hide was as black as ebony although was very noticeably riddled with scars that looked just as Silva had described, like someone had taken a bike chain and whipped it. It had very large pale blue eyes and perhaps its most noticeable feature, a thick indigo colored stripe running down the entire length of its body. In its mouth was what Eliza could only speculate to be the wreckage of what was once a pricey laptop.

The creature walked forward and with a surprising amount of precision put the destroyed laptop on oddly arranged pile of mangled computer equipment, even taking an extra moment or so to make sure that the piece was placed in just a certain way. Clearly whatever it was doing was deliberate and thought out. What Eliza never got the chance to finish marveling at the creature’s apparent intelligence as it turned its attention completely onto her and after a moment there came a low staticy word of “Meat.” And it suddenly charged at her. The vision of this animal lunging at her brought about an immediate involuntary reaction and suddenly Beast towered above the monstrous hybrid and with one swat of her tail she sent the Indoraptor flying and crashing into its carefully arranged pile of junk.

Beast roared angrily at the Indoraptor and just as she was getting ready to charge a garbled mess of static erupted from where the creature had landed. Static that once again sounded suspiciously like words and so panicked that it made even Beast pause. Was there someone else in here with them?

“No hurt! No hurt Indigo!” The voice said again only now Beast realized that this voice was actually calming from the Indoraptor! It was pretty safe to say that no one had ever seen a T-Rex drop its jaw in total shock… Well, there’s a first time for everything because that’s exactly what happened.

The hybrids head cautiously poked out from where it had landed and it looked up at Beast nervously. “Big. Really big.” Came the static laced words again. After a moment its head disappeared and suddenly the creature popped out of the rubble with a very large fish in its jaws. It cautiously approached the Rex before putting the fish on the ground and nudging it closer to what could potentially be its aggressor. “Eat fishy not Indigo?”

Beast stared, in both the human and animal portions of her mind this entire situation had gone in a completely bizarre direction. Unfortunately for the Eliza portion of her mind beast came to her senses a bit quicker and actually decided to eat the offered raw and somewhat rancid fish. The taste was pretty bad and the human gag reflex managed to force her out of her transformation and she fell to the floor coughing, trying to spit out some of the disgusting taste that still lingered on her tongue. Unfortunately, her rapid reduction in size led the creature to get closer… A lot closer… actually by the time Eliza looked up this thing was now mere inches from her face, looking at her and sniffing curiously.

“Small now.” The barely audible voice said with a tone of interest. “Who you?”

Eliza didn’t answer, quite frankly she was spending more time trying to wrap her brain around the fact that this creature was somehow talking.

“Who you?” It asked again. This time words making the shifter come to her senses and answer before it decided to lose its patience with her and try to eat her again.

“Eliza.” He said hastily and then decided what the hell and gave something a shot and pointed to herself. “Friend of Silva.”

“You pack?” It asked tilting his head to the side a little before seeming to answer its own question and the damn thing nodded and suddenly pressed its head into her chest and rubbed emitting a deep purring sound in a friendly manner. “Pack good.”

“Yeahhhh.” She trailed off, just as she took notice of something around the animals’ neck that looked like some kind of collar. And suddenly it dawned on her and Eliza inwardly swore left right and sideways.

“Leave it to Raoul Silva to find a real world working version of the ‘Talking Collars’ from the movie ‘Up’ and put it on his fricking raptor!” She inwardly hissed. Although she also took note that it looked a bit damaged and while the raptor was rubbing up against her she carefully pushed the damage components back into place. Hopefully fixing the static problem but she wouldn’t know until it tried to talk again. Remembering her task, she suddenly pushed the big beasties head away from her and stood up.

“Your… Indigo right?”

“Me indigo. You Eliza.” It chirped happily. The static now gone from its voice and allowing it to be properly identified as a male and a full emotional range to be distinctly notable its tones. “You help Indigo now?” He asked as his tail wagged slightly in a playful manner.

“You want me to… help you?” Eliza echoed not entirely clear what the animal, Indigo, actually wanted. “Help you with what?”

Indigo suddenly hopped up and began running around the piles of wrecked equipment and began to reorganize them. At the same time also revealing that among all of the sharp pieces were numerous pillows and blankets, even clothing all arranged into a ring. And right in the center was a pile of rotting stinking ocean dwelling fish. There was even a dead Mola Mola propped up in one corner! He suddenly returned and began to much more forcefully push his head against Eliza, directing her out the door and into the central courtyard. “Help Indigo find meat! Meat from not-pack humans!”

“Whoa, whoa, whoa!” Eliza said as she maneuvered herself away from the hybrid beast. “You can’t eat humans! Bad! Bad Indigo!”

“Indigo not eating humans!” The creature defended, actually taking a step backward like Eliza had cracked a whip on him. “Red bite humans, they made Red sad with zaps. Red always cry until he died… Green ate human, Green got shot dead. Violet bit doctor human, doctor human made Violet dumb with cuts to her head. Violet die. Gold…” Indigo trailed off right around the time that Eliza started to feel sick when she realized that Indigo was in fact talking about other Indoraptors he must have been created with. Animals that had no doubt suffered badly if this story was any indication. “Gold was psychopath. Gold ate humans, but gold was big. Gold was frightening. Gold never got in same trouble as others. Indigo once tasted human meat, but taste bad… Indigo like fish, not meat. Fishy better.”

“If you’re not eating them what did you mean when you said that you want to find… meat.” She pressed. Now officially starting to think that that Silva and Dana had mistaken this animals recently developed strange habits as signs of aggression. And the damaged collar had no doubt inhibited their ability to understand whatever he had been trying to say. All in all, he seemed like a pretty tame creature, if not a goofy one. Fuck… he was adorable in a menacing-predator-that-is-scared-of-a-butterfly sort of way.

“Indigo trade.” He replied simply. “Indigo trade meat for fish.”

“Riiiight…” Eliza looked at him skeptically. “So, you throw them in the ocean?”

“Yes! Throw meat in water, catch fish in return. Fair trade.” All right, that pretty much explained the whole situation. Indigo wasn’t killing off Silva’s goons, he was throwing in the ocean as some sort of weird ritual he believed would help him catch fish. Like he believed something was actually giving him fish in exchange for people. So chances were fairly high that all the men who had disappeared were actually alive and all right, just probably well-hidden on another portion of the island away from the raptor.

“You don’t want to hurt Silva do you? Or Dana?”

“Never, Silva pack! Dana pack! Baby will be pack!” The raptor screeched, literally screeched with some earsplitting roar mixed in with the artificial voice of the collar.

Eliza blinked once in slight confusion. “What baby?” But then she stopped as a realization dawned on her.

…Oh…

(A few minutes later)

Silva and Dana cautiously entered what had once upon a time been the computer room. Only a few steps inside they were greeted with the sight of Eliza scratching Indigo’s belly and the big raptor laying there and enjoying it. It was not the site they had expected to see when the young woman had radioed them and informed them that she had dealt with the situation. Upon noticing the vampire and his secretaries arrival a cheeky grin spread across Eliza’s face.

“So you to finally got here. I’m sure he found something to do in order to keep yourselves entertained while I handled everything?” She really tried, but was still unable to hide all of the smugness in her voice.

“What’s going on?” Silva demanded as he cast his eyes over the now apparently docile Indigo. “How in the world did you fix this?”

Eliza snickered a bit. “Turns out he wasn’t getting aggressive at all. He was getting protective.” She then gestured over to the ring of broken equipment with the pile of fish in the center. “Do you know what that is Silva?” Judging by his look of growing agitation, no doubt directed completely at her not getting straight to the point… no, no he did not. “It’s a nest… He was making you guys a nest.”

“What in the world fo- Gah!!” Dana started, only to find herself being grabbed by Indigo and dragged over to the nest. As the big hybrid did so, a pair of large feathery wings unfurled from her back and her hands became very sharp claws… revealing her true form to be a harpy… but before she got a chance to use her claws she was dumped in the middle of the nest. And then a fish was dropped in her lap… She just sat there for a moment completely dumbstruck and unable to grasp just what the hell was going on.

“It would seem Mr. Silva, that you have fallen victim to an age-old temptation… and thus you’ve knocked up your secretary… classy… Oh and congratulations, I’ll be sure to send you a fruit basket.” Eliza could no longer contain herself and burst out laughing as the look of sheer bewilderment slowly spread across Silva’s face. Not to mention that Dana looked every bit as dumbfounded as her employer and apparently, secret lover.

In spite of the mirth everyone really should have been paying a bit more attention to what was going on around them. Especially when Indigo’s head perked up and his attention became locked on a lone figure that had just entered the room. It was one of Silva’s missing thugs and judging by his disheveled appearance he had been hiding for some time. Probably only coming out when he thought that his employer’s pet was no longer out of control. He had been quietly approaching Silva from the behind, no doubt right about to ask what was going on… When all of a sudden Indigo snarled and rushed forward, which of course resulted in this man screaming and running away. Naturally he didn’t get very far and Indigo grabbed him with his mouth, not in a way that would have severely injured him but in a more than effective way to drag this man wherever he wanted.

The laughter was almost immediately cut short and was promptly replaced with all three of them chasing after the hybrid creature, screaming for him to stop and put the man down. Even with the vampires incredible speed he wasn’t able to keep up with his pet. Indigo raced all the way down to the water’s edge on the north side of the island and in a single surprisingly swift movement he flung the man far out into the ocean.

“Indigo you beast! What are you doing?!” Silva demanded as he raised his hand and gave the raptor very hard swipe with his claws. It was not a particularly hard strike, as much as it was supposed to get the creature’s attention. Of course it worked, maybe a little too well, as the motion made Indigo cower and whine. No doubt due to past traumatic memories.

“It’s all right Silva! He’s not actually hurting anybody!” Eliza stated trying to diffuse the situation. “He just thinks throwing people in the water makes it easier to catch fish for some reason.” Before Silva could reply, there was a splashing sound from the water and when everyone looked… The man was gone. Indigo’s head perked up and he looked expectantly towards the water.

“Trade.” He said calmly. “Trade with friend. Meat for fish.”

A rather cold, unpleasant feeling settled in the trio’s stomachs at that moment. With Dana being the only one actually finding the ability to say what was on everyone else’s mind and she quietly asked. “Who is your friend?” And right on cue, no less than several hundred massive and varying fish were abruptly thrown out of the water and smacked with a great deal of force into all the parties watching, with the only exception being Indigo. Who had been smart enough to stand off to the side… A massive form surfaced from beneath the water and a large reptilian eye looked upon the group. After a moment the Mosasaur submerged… but not before it smacked its flipper in the air several times in a distinctive waving motion. To which the Indoraptor merely chirped happily back in its direction and waved as well…

In spite of now smelling like 15 kinds of different fish, Eliza still managed to watched this scene and laugh weakly. Very much aware of the angry glares she was getting from the vampire and the harpy.

“Well… that’s definitely not good.”

[etching-bones-moved]

Wattpad // Fictionpress // 22:39 tag

Episode two: III

The time came for Carthy to organise another kill.

She met Vincent Everett, at his request, in a penthouse apartment overlooking the river. He'd promised a lavish meal for them to talk over, a fine selection of drinks, and an opportune disruption to the building's security cameras. Sceptical at his refusal to say who he wanted dead, but not one to turn her nose up at free food, Carthy had accepted. She'd even dressed up.  

Climbing up the building’s stairwells, irritated endlessly by how her blue sheath dress kept rising up her thighs, Carthy was beginning to regret that decision. These heels were murder to her poor feet, and her jewellery would not stop clinking.  

Vincent met her at the door, eyes lit and cheeks already flushed. He was middle aged, slightly paunchy but otherwise well kept. His gaze was distinctly appraising.  

"Beautiful, as well as talented." he said by way of greeting, inclining his head and smiling, "Won't you come in?"  

Snake, Carthy surmised, noting the fluidity with which he took her coat and led her into his dining room, the ease with which he covered his ogling with a layer of charm. What sent you running to me?  

Her guess was debt, simply because he didn't look like someone who could resist indulgence. Everything he wore looked incredibly expensive, from the silk of his half-buttoned shirt to the chunky gold of his watch. His apartment- one of many, he'd said- was gorgeous. Utterly beautiful. Some walls were brown brick, others were papered with cream threaded through with subtle metallic detailing. All were dotted with art, aside from those with huge windows, through which you could see the city stretched out beneath them like a bumpy spread of tiny stars.  

Clicking softly over the gleaming wooden floor, following Vincent to his dining room, Carthy found herself exceedingly jealous.

“I’m not usually in the habit of entertaining such esteemed guests,” Vincent said, filling her crystal glass to the brim. Red wine, vividly gorgeous in colour, “Please do let me know if there’s something that could be improved, to be better to your liking.”

“This is sufficient.” Carthy replied, eyeing the starters he brought over. They looked and smelled divine. Were they a deliberate distraction?

She took up her wine, sipped it, and gave him a lilting smile. He relaxed to it. Clinking their glasses together in precise, watchful motions, the pair began to eat.  

“You have a reputation for discretion.” Vincent began some minutes later, wiping the corners of his mouth with a fine, monogrammed handkerchief, “I am hoping you can extend this service to me, I come to you with an exceedingly… how shall we say… delicate matter.”

Carthy raised her brows, prompting.

“I should, by all accounts, be a rich man.”

“Oh really?” Carthy asked, no indication of her satisfaction on her face, “Am I to take it something is preventing this?”

“Someone.” Vincent corrected, smiling pleasantly but through gritted teeth. He took the next moment to stand, and ferry the main course to the table. Surprised, Carthy noted the set of his jaw and realised that already his composure had slipped further than he would have liked. Vincent apparently could not tolerate appearing anything but polished.

Control freak, Carthy thought to herself, seeking to impress and intimidate, always. He is not enjoying having to outsource this.  

“Someone,” Vincent continued, “Is in the way of me and my fortune. I married a very rich woman, who’s keeping me on a- tighter than expected leash.”

This is what you call a tight leash?

“Her name?” she asked, swirling her wine round her glass. She’d decided to wear earrings, but now found they weighed far too much. Combined with the atmospherically dim lighting and orchestral music, Carthy’s head was beginning to throb.

“Luisa,” he said, smoothing down his sleeves and straightening his cufflinks, “If you agree to take the job, I’ll provide you with more information.”

Luisa, stinking rich, anywhere in the 20- 60 age range, recently wedded to Vincent Everett in likely a garishly public ceremony. Carthy could find her full name, tax records and favourite holiday resort with that information alone, but there was no point in letting Vincent know as much. Slighted contractors became terribly awkward.

“So, dear Luisa isn’t as amendable as you’d hoped she’d be, and now you want her dead?”

Vincent shook her head.

“No,” he said slowly, “My wife is already dying. Brain tumour, inoperable. Highly tragic of course.”

You knew that before you married her, Carthy took from his words and light tone. You’re a gold-digger, through and through.

“Do you get any of the money, when she dies?” Carthy asked, filling her voice with a detached curiosity. It wouldn’t do to let any of her judgement show.

“I thought I would have all of it.” said Vincent, refilling both of their glasses, “But recently I discovered she’s left me but a pittance. The majority of it is going to her daughter.”

Ah.

“And I suppose your bet is, if your wife suddenly no longer has a daughter, the money will instead go to you?”

“That is correct. She has no other relatives to leave it to, no favoured charitable endeavours. I am the next best option.”

“Are you quite certain you wish to act on that chance?” Carthy asked him. Vincent pursed his lips.

“My step-daughter is set to inherit just under £50 million that would otherwise be mine.” was all he said, chin lifted in an expression of dark indignation, “Of course I wish to act on it.”

£50 million. Carthy near saw stars.

“And if it isn’t left to you?”

“Then there are legal routes I can follow, once my wife is dead. It will all be easier with the daughter gone.”

Carthy sat, and mulled this over. While she did so, the pair of them moved onto dessert. Thus far, her odds of killing this unfortunate heiress did not seem high.

“I want it staged as an accident, preferably within the month.” Vincent continued in confident, rolling tones, “I don’t care where it happens, or how, just so long it doesn’t at all lead back to me. You can make it gruesome, if that takes your fancy. I wouldn’t know how the mind of a contract killer works.”

Briefly Carthy considered laughing at him, then dismissed the idea.  

“Tell me more about the daughter.” she said, keeping her control, savouring her next mouthful of strawberries and cream. Vincent’s face flickered, a fine layer of distaste settling over his features.

“She’s a brat.” he said smoothly, “Spoiled, immature. She neglected to come to her mother’s and my wedding day, which dearly grieved us both. She misses no opportunity to spite me.”

“How so?”

“She refuses to live under the same roof as me. She refuses to defer to my will.”  

“Does she have any unpleasant business ventures? Drugs, money laundering, organised crime? Exploitative companies?”

Vincent shook his head.

“I’m quite certain she’s never done anything entrepreneurial in her life. Quite an unsuitable heir to a business empire, one would think.”

“Has she raised her hand to you? Vandalised your property, or that of her mother?” Carthy asked, changing tack.

“Of course not. Do you imagine I’d allow myself to be beaten so by a girl?” Vincent seemed to find this highly amusing, and Carthy had to sternly remind herself not to make a scene. Stabbing his hand to the table with a fork just wouldn’t do.

“Has she actively pressed to have you written out of her mother’s will?”

“No, but she hasn’t supported my claim to be written into it for a substantial amount. Nor did she agree to give the money onto me separately after Luisa’s death.”

“Does she know her mother is dying?”

“No, I don’t think so. Luisa hid it from her. Why do you care?”

Hid, past tense? Is the daughter estranged? Does the mother hide it because of distance, or love, or both? The daughter is inheriting, they can’t dislike each other very much…

“Where is the daughter now?” Carthy asked, and Vincent’s jaw set once more, so minutely she wouldn’t have noticed if it hadn’t happened before. Not used to not being answered, are you?

“She’s elsewhere.” he said, dismissively. As he shifted, the candlelight winked off the glass face of his golden watch, “Studying. She was always home-schooled before.”

Young, then. Probably never done anything ‘normal’ before in her life, probably getting a thrill from it, probably been looking forward to it for years. No wonder her mother hasn’t told her.

Carthy found herself feeling… sorry, for the girl, which made everything utterly useless. The target was undeserving, the contractor unlikable but hardly enough so to bother killing. The only thing she Carthy to gain here was the rest of her cheesecake, which she now gobbled down with unreserved haste.

“So you’ll take the job?”

“No.” she told him, downing her drink before standing, “My apologies, Mr Everett, and my thanks for a wonderful meal, but I do not believe I can help you.”

For a second he only stared, expression peculiarly dull. Strains of music rose up in the silence between them.

“I can offer you £500,000.” he finally got out, voice struggling to remain even. Carthy’s entire being clenched, because £500,000… she could move far away from here, to a different country even with that kind of money. She could invest in a new profession, something decent and legal. She could reinvent herself, entirely.

The offer was tantalising. Bewitching.

“You are in debt.” she said instead, a fact she didn’t know to be true until he visibly flinched, “You cannot afford to pay me £500,000.”

“I can pay you afterwards.” he said, blood vessel fluttering at his throat. Elevated heartrate, stress response. Carthy suddenly had the impression that this had happened before.

She shook her head.

“That won’t do.” she said firmly, “I will not perform such a service before being paid. And besides, Mr Everett, I find your manner to be quite contradictory to mine. I do not believe it wise that we work together.”  

“You’re making a mistake.” he said, still like something waiting to pounce, sheen above his upper lip like somebody terrified.  

He was all posturing, little content, and obviously inexperienced. Carthy did not imagine he’d be able to convince anyone proficient to take up his offer, especially if they cottoned on to the debt he was in. With no money and no strong-arm, Vincent couldn’t become dangerous. Carthy would not worry about him further.

“I wish you luck on your business endeavours.” she told him, with as much graciousness as she could muster, “But they are not for me. Goodbye.”

“Wait.” Vincent expelled, rising in a clumsy clatter, but it was far too late to change Carthy’s mind. Leaving his exclamations behind her, she strode away, retrieved her coat, and stepped through Vincent’s front door with a decisive click.  

[iminclinedtowriting]

FYI my date is a boy

summary: “First off, Mum, seeing as Sarah is my ex-girlfriend, similarity to her isn’t exactly a selling point. Second of all, I am seeing someone, so I’ll have to turn down the awkward blind wedding date.” aka Shit. I just told my mom I'm in a relationship and I haven't even told her I'm bisexual. Now what? words: 3000 genre: fluff, established relationship, coming out time: may 2011ish series: My Youth Is Yours part: 2 [[ao3]]

This semester is definitely going to be the death of me. All that is left is this 5,000 word paper. Just one dumb term paper is the only thing standing between me and the sweet freedom of being done with my first year of uni.

I’m lounging on Phil’s bed, surrounded by textbooks and half-heartedly trying to write a few paragraphs. Phil’s apartment was empty when I got here this afternoon, so I’m monopolizing the entire bed as fruitless, petty revenge for Phil not being here to distract me. I’m not quite sure where Phil is at the moment, but I hope he has the foresight to stop at the grocery store on his way home. The refrigerator currently contains ketchup, stale bread, and a questionable tub of yogurt – not exactly dinner ingredients.

Not that I’ve been paying too much attention to work anyway, but I’m completely distracted from ‘writing’ when my phone rings from the depths of the covers. When I manage to dig my phone out of the blankets, I answer without looking. I assume it’s Phil, hopefully calling about dinner (no one else really calls me, tbh).

“Hello?”

“Hello sweetheart, how are you today?”

How wrong I was. I love my mother. Dearly. But if I’d noticed the caller id, I probably would have let it go to voicemail. I’d hate to further distract myself from tumblr writing.

“Hi, mum. I’m doing well. I’ve been working on my term paper all day.” Sort of, whatever.

“I’m so proud of how hard you’re working, Daniel.” I grimace, and I’m not sure if it’s because she used my full name or because she’s seriously misguided in her pride.

A few seconds of silence pass before Mum continues. “Your cousin Cassidy is getting married – your invitation came in the post with ours today.”

“Oh, that’s nice. I’ve always liked Adam.”

“The wedding is June 15th. You’re done with your semester before then, right?

“Yeah, the semester is over June 4th. I can make it. Will you RSVP for me?”

“No problem, dear. I’m so glad you can come. If you haven’t already made plans, I was thinking you could come home a bit early and we can do something for your birthday.”

Ugh. As much as I love Cassidy and want to be there for her wedding, I was hoping to spend my birthday with Phil this year. We haven’t made actual plans yet, but he’s been hinting at a restaurant he wants to take me to.

“Er… yeah, maybe. I’m not sure if I’m doing anything on my birthday, I’ll have to let you know.” I say noncommittally.

“Well, if it makes any difference, Cassidy said you could bring a date. If you’re seeing someone, you could bring them home with you for your birthday as well… Although, if you’re not seeing anyone, my friend Jodie has a daughter that is starting at Manchester in the fall I think you’d get on with well. She reminds me a lot of Sarah.”

“First off, Mum, seeing as Sarah is my ex-girlfriend, similarity to her isn’t exactly a selling point. Second of all, I am seeing someone, so I’ll have to turn down the awkward blind wedding date.”

I immediately blanch as I realize I just confessed to being decidedly not single.

My mum, however, did not miss the confession. “That’s great, honey. I’m glad to hear that! How long have you been dating? Does she study law too? Do you think you’ll bring her to the wedding?”

Shit shit shit. Fuck this is not how I thought this conversation was going to go.

I hesitate for a moment, trying to think of the best way to end this conversation as quickly and with as little information as possible. When I finally respond, I chose my words carefully and actively avoid using any pronouns.

“Calm down, Mum. We’ve been dating for several months.” Technically 20 months qualifies as ‘several months’… “I’m not sure about the wedding or my birthday yet. I’m not sure if it’s the best idea. We’ll have to talk it over.”

“Several months!? I can’t believe you’ve kept this a secret for that long, Daniel. I hope you decided to bring her – I’m sure everyone would love to meet her, especially since you’ve been dating for a while now.”

“Yeah, uh… Like I said, we’ll see, Mum. I’ve got to go, I’m in the middle of my term paper and I need to finish this section before I lose my train of thought,” I invent wildly, desperate to end the call.

“Oh sorry dear, I didn’t mean to interrupt your studying. Don’t think you are off the hook though, I expect more details about this later.”

“Okay, sure Mum, bye.” I smash the end call button before my mother has a chance to respond. With a sigh of frustration, I flop onto my back and glare at the ceiling, considering my options.

Pretend to break up with my ‘girlfriend’ in the next month so I can avoid bringing ‘her’ to the wedding.

Not exactly foolproof. Mum will still ask a million questions about our relationship (and it’s timely demise) that I’ll either have to evade or lie about. Not to mention, I’ll still have to switch all of the pronouns.

Find a girl willing to pretend to be my girlfriend for the weekend.

Also has its complications. For starters, I definitely do not have any female friends close enough to ask that kind of favor of. Not to mention, we’d have to make up a complete back-story and risk getting caught in a web of lies. And what if I had to kiss her or something? I don’t want to kiss anyone that isn’t Phil.

Come out.

Terrifying.

The more I think about it, though, the more option three is the only option that makes sense. Me and Phil are only getting more serious – I’m planning to move in with him when the semester is over for god’s sake – and the truth is going to have to come out sooner or later. If I go along with this girlfriend ruse now, I’ll end up having to confess that I lied or lie more later on to cover up this lie.

Resolutely, I shove my law books aside (no way I am going to be able to concentrate on it now, let’s be real) and move to the living room. As I fiddle with my phone, I consider texting Phil to ask when he’s coming home but I figure I’ll just wait. Before I call my mum back, I need to talk to Phil. I have no idea how to do this.

I’m not sure how long I’ve been sitting on the sofa, staring at the wall with thoughts rushing around my head when I finally hear the click of the door being unlocked. Phil barely has the deadbolt turned before I’m standing in front of the door. Somewhere in the back of my mind, I gratefully notice that he is holding several Tesco bags, but my appetite has completely vanished.

“Thank god you’re home, we need to talk.”

Phil’s eyes widen and he looks alarmed. “Why? What’s wrong? Are you okay?”

“Honestly? I’m kind of panicking.”

“Okay, take a seat and let me put the milk away. Then we can talk.”

I shuffle over to his table, immediately burying my head in my hands. The chair next to me screeches as Phil pulls it out and sits down. Out of the periphery of my vision, I can see Phil reach for my hand.

“What’s wrong?”

I groan into my arms and take a deep breath before I sit up. “My mum called today. Apparently my cousin Cassidy is getting married next month and she invited me to the wedding.”

“Er, alright. I’m not sure I’m understanding the problem here…”

“There are several things. One really big problem and a whole buttload of smaller problems.” Phil looks at me expectantly. “One: the wedding is June 15th and my mum wants me to come home for my birthday. Two: I was told I could bring a date to both my birthday and the wedding. Three: my lovely mum offered to set me up on a blind date with her friend’s daughter.”

Phil chuckles. “Alright. None of those seem life changing. If you have to go home for your birthday, we can celebrate early, that’s fine. Also, I’d rather you didn’t take your mum up on the blind date, seeing as I like having you as my boyfriend and all.”

“None of those were the big problem, Phil.”

“So what is it then?”

I finally look up enough to meet Phil’s eyes. “I told my mum I’d have to turn down the blind date since I’m seeing someone. Now she’s hoping I’ll bring that person home with me. And she’s assuming that person is a girl.”

Phil looks about like a deer in headlights. “Oh.”

“Yeah. Oh.”

“What are you thinking of doing?”

“I’ve thought about this a lot in the past—” I glance at the clock “—three hours. There’s only one logical option. I need to come out sooner or later, so it might as well be now, I guess.”

“I don’t want you to feel pressured. If you aren’t ready or don’t want to, we can figure something out.”

I close my eyes and collect my thoughts, taking a deep breath. When I open my eyes, I resolutely meet Phil’s gaze. “I’m sure. I knew the time would come and it’s come,” I say with an air of finality.

“I’m proud of you, Bear.”

“Thanks. I have no idea how I’m going to do this though. I mean, how does someone just call up their mum and be like ‘hey, thanks for telling me I could bring a date, but fyi it’s a boy and I’m bisexual’…?”

“Probably with a bit more tact than that. Maybe skype would be a better option. Or you could wait until you go home.”

“No, I don’t want to wait until I go home. If I wait until I go home then I can’t bring you as a date. Or worse, bringing you as my date will actually be how I come out. Oh my god, I didn’t even ask, do you even want to go to this? The wedding? I’m sure I can get out of the birthday thing if I try, but I have to go to the wedding. I’d love it if you’d come, but I get that meeting my whole family all at once is really intimidating and I wouldn’t blame—”

“Dan. Shut up.” Phil interrupts me and I stop rambling.

“Sorry.” I turn my gaze downward and toy with the hem of my shirt. Phil grabs my face between his hands, forcing me to look up at him.

“Of course I want to go with you. Both to the wedding and for your birthday.”

“But I know you had plans in mind for here.”

“Nothing that can’t happen a day or two early. This way you get two birthdays!” Phil looks so excited that I almost forget about the task looming over my head. Almost.

“Okay. So that’s settled. Now I just need to actually tell my mum and hopefully she doesn’t revoke the date invitation.”

“It’s going to be fine, Dan. I know it’s nerve-wracking, but I think your family is going to take it much better than you’re giving them credit for. When do you want to talk to her?”

“Now?” I try to sound confident, but instead, it comes out like a weak question. Phil raises his eyebrow. “I want to do it before I lose my nerve.”

Without saying anything, Phil disappears into his room. When he returns, he is carrying my laptop and a bag of Maltesers. “Here.” He shoves the laptop into my hands. “Text your mum now. Tell her you need to skype.”

I nod numbly and do as he says. My mum replies almost instantly.

I’ll be on in 5 minutes. Is everything okay?

I don’t respond. She’ll find out soon enough.

Phil rises and kisses my forehead. “I’ll let you have privacy with your mum.”

“NO!” I shout before I can control myself. I quickly add, “I really, really don’t think I can do this alone. Can’t you just like… sit at the table out of shot or something?”

“Of course. But if you decide you want me to leave, just say so, okay?” He settles back down into his chair and angles the laptop so that only I will be on camera.

I nod quietly in assent without taking my eyes off of the screen. In three minutes there will be a green dot next to my mum’s name. There’s no turning back now.

I snap out of my daze when the skype call comes through but I’m too petrified to move to answer it. Phil notices and reaches over and hits the accept button for me. Instead of pulling his hand back though, he grabs my hand and holds it under the table. The hidden gesture gives me the courage to speak.

“Hi, mum. Thanks for dropping whatever you were doing.”

“It’s no problem, honey. What’s going on?”

“Well, I was thinking about what you said earlier. If the offer still stands, I would like to bring a date.” I choose my words with care, making sure not to use pronouns before I actually intend to.

“Daniel! That’s great news. Of course the offer still stands. I’m so excited that—”

“Mum. Hold on. Let me say what I need to say before you decide if my date is still invited.”

That shuts her up. Phil squeezes my hand under the table and sends me a reassuring look when I glance over. On screen, my mum watches me expectantly.

“My date, um, wouldn’t be a girl.”

In the next five seconds, my mum’s face goes through a series of emotions. First she seems confused, then surprised, then anxious, but finally settles on calm.

“The offer still stands. I would love to meet your boyfriend.” I notice that she seems barely fazed by the word. “And I’m sure the rest of the family would too. So long as he makes you happy and isn’t a serial killer, I think everyone will be just fine.”

As she talks, I can literally feel the weight melting off my shoulders. I was so nervous about the hundreds of ways that this could have gone poorly that I never actually considered she would be so nonchalant about it.

“Thanks, mum.” I can feel tears prickling my eyes. Phil is positively beaming beside me. “Your support means so much.”

“I love you, Dan, no matter who you love.” She looks pensive for a moment. “It’s Phil, isn’t it?”

Her question catches me off guard and I can feel heat my cheeks instantly flush with heat. I nod sheepishly.

“How long?” She asks curiously.

“Um, like September.” She opens her mouth to say something, but I cut her off. “Of 2009.”

“YOU’VE BEEN DATING PHIL FOR THAT LONG AND DIDN’T TELL US?!” She shouts, but she doesn’t sound angry, just shocked.

“I told you I didn’t buy that ‘friends’ crap!” Adrian shouts from the next room.

“LANGUAGE, ADRIAN!” Phil guffaws at the exchange beside me. “Is that Phil I hear in the background?”

“Yeah, Phil’s here.” I jerk my head slightly and Phil shuffles into the shot.

“Hi Mrs. Howell!” Phil waves cheerfully with the hand that isn’t still attached to mine.

“Hello, Phil. I look forward to getting to properly meet you in person soon. So you boys have really been dating for…” Her face scrunches up as she tries to do the calculations.

“Nearly two years?” I fill in for her. “Yeah.”

Her expression turns slightly disappointed and when she speaks, she sounds sadder. “Why did you tell us sooner?”

I knew this would come up. It’s something I’ve thought a lot about since Phil and I started talking.

“Well, at first, I didn’t want to mention it because it was so new. And then when I went to visit him the first time, I was afraid that if I told you what we actually were, you wouldn’t let me get on a train to go halfway across the country to meet my boyfriend. Then I was planning to come to Manchester for uni and I didn’t want you to think I was moving to Manchester just to be with my boyfriend. And, well, since then, I guess I was just nervous and didn’t know how to talk about it or how you would react.”

I could see tears forming in my mum’s eyes. “Sweetheart, I’m so sorry that we’ve made you feel like you couldn’t confide in us. I can’t imagine what it must have felt like hiding this for so long. Please, don’t feel like you need to hide things from us in the future.”

“Thanks, mum.”

The conversation shifted to planning me and Phil’s trip. It takes a bit of negotiation, but we finally settle on us arriving the evening before my birthday and leaving two days after Cassidy’s wedding. I can’t tell who is more excited: my mum or Phil.

When the call finally disconnects, I fly into Phil’s arm. He wraps his arms around me tightly. “It went well. It went really well, Phil.” I’m smiling so wide that my cheeks hurt and Phil pokes my dimple, which is more of a crater than a dimple at the moment.

“It did, Bear. I’m happy for you.” He leans in and kisses my lips softly. He slowly presses long, sloppy kisses along my jaw and the mood shifts into something more heated. When his lips return to mine, the kiss is more urgent. I move my legs to straddle his lap, pulling my shirt off in the process.

Phil works his way back up my jaw and lightly pulls my earlobe into his mouth. “I’d say let’s move this to the bed, but I noticed that someone left the entire law library on my bed.” His voice is husky and his deep chuckle vibrates along my neck, which melts me into an almost incoherent state of bliss.

“Couch?”

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