#but whatever. at least tomorrow i finally get to burn a cd for the first time. yahoo

[arielluva]

the cd burner i ordered arrives tomorrow!!! (technically today) ooh ill finally to burn a cd!!! my parents always did it for me but now i finally can yippee

my utena cds reawakened my love for cds after like 3 years of barely using them... it feels like im returning home from the war (spotify) to my beautiful wife (physical media)

[littlemisslipbalm]

Little Border Town Pt. 3

Summary: It begins with a man and a woman, as it always seems to. One lives in France and the other lives in Italy, technically, but they’re also neighbors. Various issues arise between these two and they can’t ever seem to see eye to eye on anything. Will they ever move past their petty fighting or is the little town they live in doomed to only gossip about what Harry and Y/N are fighting about today? 

Part 3: the one with the boat and the beginning of a storm

IT’S BEEN AGESSSS I AM SO SO SORRY I LOVE YALL SO MUCH AND EVERYONE WHO HAS EVER READ THIS THANK YOU FOR BEING PATIENT

also harry is wearing this fit in this part just no tie?? i think i cant remember

college has been incredibly crazy this year already and i just dont have time to write like i did before i went back. i honestly had this mostly finished and i havent reread so i have no idea what even happens so lmk what you think, i can’t imagine that it will get a lot of notes but if it did id be very happy about that - anyways lots of love and feedback appreciated as always...pls enjoy

Word Count: 6.6k | Warnings: ?? Swearing? idek, more yearning bc slow burn

Catch up here! part 1 | 2 |

-

“Isn’t the weather not ideal for boat sailing today,” she ponders as her face looks up at the sky. She’s walking into Harry’s store again after running back to her place to grab a jacket and lock up. She placed a notecard in the door’s window that says “closed today, see you tomorrow” with a smiling face as punctuation.

Harry grins, bouncing on the balls of his feet. He had sailing boots on his feet with a smart big-collared printed shirt and marigold trousers. Instead of a belt, he had suspenders that matched the color of his pants and a pearl necklace as his final accessory other than his rings. He must have repainted his nails this morning because they were a light lavender shade that hadn’t been noticeable last night.

“It’s just fine. We’re entering fall and the sun is out today!” He gestures to the sky above them and she nods in agreement that the sun is indeed out. However she wasn’t sure if she’d categorize it as a nice day to go out on the sea still. With the sun there were also many clouds, they were mostly white and fluffy, but she was sure they could turn sinister any moment.

“Ready?” He beams.

“As I’ll ever be.”

-

On the boat, Y/N felt her stomach churning. Was she giddy or unnerved? Likely, both.

Harry was tying the boat off the dock after helping her onto the deck. It wasn’t a huge boat, not a yacht or anything, but it also wasn’t a tiny sailboat. It had an upper deck where maybe four people - at most - could comfortably be. Then a lower deck, inside a hatch in the upper deck. She couldn’t discern how much space was down there, but she was sure Harry would show her. He was talking through everything he was doing on the boat. Ad nauseum for an extremely nontechnical girl, such as herself.

Still, she sat in the spot he had directed her to next to the closed hatch and watched him move gracefully around the boat. Maneuvering the sails and different parts of the boat was a dance for Harry. Each step, each twist and knot, moved by a song unknown to her. It was beautiful. He was completely in his element, surprisingly. Again, Harry surprised her. She knew he had a boat, but whenever she thought of a jerk with a boat she didn’t think of what she was seeing with her own eyes. It was beautiful - or at least, it would be, if he’d shut his big mouth that was now making her roll her eyes as he made a pun about boats.

“So,” Harry starts finally, finishing up whatever he needed to do to get the boat off the dock and on the path he wanted. They were moving out into open water, she could see the little town, but it was growing smaller by the minute. Her stomach churned again as she looked up at the man she had just trusted to take her out onto the ocean. She grimaced slightly at the thought.

“Do you want to see the inside?” he continued.

She nods eagerly, “Finally!”

He chuckles lightly before opening up the hatch and gesturing for her to go first. She looks at him hesitantly.

“This isn’t a trap right? It’s not going to be all...murder-y down there?” Her voice is pitched higher, she’s almost completely serious.

This time Harry’s laugh comes from his belly, almost doubling over at the word ‘murder-y’. Between laughs, he tries to reassure her. “God no...oh my god.” More laughter, then a deep breath. “The only evil entity on this boat is the diavola I invited on here,” he gestures to her standing in front of him and her eyes narrow. Displeasure washing over her features.

“You’re ridiculous,” her hand swats at his sternum before she turns from him and climbs down to the underdeck area.

When she’s down, she’s surprised with her surroundings and she doesn’t notice Harry follow quickly behind her. It’s neat and stylish. Well, she’s not completely surprised, Harry was very fashionable. But the neatness dissipated all thoughts of the improbable scenario where Harry had lured her on his boat to murder her. It was what she had been freaking out over when she had at first refused to enter.

There was a small daybed at the end of the hall that doubled as a couch, a door to a bathroom, a dining area, a kitchenette, and then the random area they were standing in. It wasn’t super spacious, it was a hallway with things around it, but it was clean and it smelled nice. Everything had a place and they were neatly put in their places. After a moment, she turned at the feeling of Harry’s presence behind her.

He grinned, scanning the areas her eyes had just taken in for the first time. His green eyes were filled with admiration. “Do you like it?”

“Yeah, smells like you.” She nods matter of factly.

“Huh?” His head whips to her, sure he hadn’t heard her right.

“The whole place is very you,” she looks away from him and walks down the hall to the daybed and takes a seat, “Styles-ish.”

He follows quickly behind, shaking his head out of his own thoughts.

He mumbles a thanks, not catching the play on words she’d used with his last name. She smiles to herself, pleased. He stands in the doorway, not really wanting to sit beside her. Maybe he didn’t trust himself with being in such close proximity with her anymore. No, not after last night.

Her eyes widen slightly when he leans against the doorway and crosses his arms. The sleeves of his button-up had been rolled up when he had been working with the sails. Her lips suddenly are dry and she wets them with her tongue, eyes moving to the fabric of the blanket she’s sat on top of.

“I meant to say,” Harry breaks the silence, obviously not a fan of the quiet. A hand leaves his pose and runs through his hair, rings classically tugging at his curls. He swallows before he speaks again, “Thanks, uh, for stopping me last night. That would’ve been weird…”

He trails off and her eyes go wide again, but now they’re trained on his face. His eyes are downcast now, watching the way light plays off his rings. She tries to make out the sound in his voice, the expression he’s trying to hide with indifference. Her teeth tug her bottom lip into her mouth as she thinks, silence once again taking hold of the small, small room. The air is tense, static, unmoving, the complete opposite of the water that rushes just outside the walls of the boat.

She clears her throat and Harry locks eyes with her, “No problem...alcohol and atmosphere, clouds the head. I get it.” She did, but she also hadn’t wanted the gratitude Harry had just placed on her.  

“You booze, you lose,” he smiles, straightening up and she looks at him quizzically.

“That’s such an odd phrase.”

“No it’s not!”

“It’s a play on ‘you snooze, you lose’ right?” She leans forward, face looking smugly up at Harry’s offended face.

“Well, yeah,” Harry admits.

“I can’t believe you made that up and got it tattooed,” She states breezily and then stands. She brushes past him to look around the rest of the cabin.

Harry scoffs, not even noticing the way her fingers had brushed over his naked forearm as she passed, too focussed on his indignation. “How’d you know about the tattoo?”

“Naked neighbor? Never closing his shade? Do you seriously need a refresher course already? Seriously, boat boy, I really thought you were smarter than that,” She talks as she snoops around the different parts of the cabin. She pokes at figurines and looks at little photos and paintings. Her head looks over her shoulder and she laughs happily at Harry’s face of irritation. It was so easy to push his buttons.

“Don’t call me boat boy,” he seethes, but she knows he’s not really mad. More like he’s a child who got told no dessert before dinner. A laugh rocks through her body again and bubbles to the surface. It causes Harry to soften, this time there’s no alcohol in his system to account for the feeling he just felt. He mirrors the smile she has. That is until she reaches the kitchenette and finds a rack of CDs sitting beside the sink.

She turns from him and begins to leaf through them, most of them are artists she recognizes. But then she reaches some that are just titled “Demo” with various numbers beside the word. Her fingers nimbly pick out “Demo #1” and turn back to Harry with an inquisitive gaze. His green eyes are bigger than usual, the smile gone from his face.

“These from the boy band days?” She smiles wider as he turns a little red. She crosses closer to him, remembering the sight of a cd player in the main area where the entrance to the cabin was.

“Erm..no.” She flips around again, confused again, but then it dawns on her. “Demos for my solo work.”

“That you put on hold to take over for your Uncle.”

“Great Uncle.” He corrects.

“I know.” She waited a second, where she was about to be quick to play the CD, she now wanted to get Harry’s permission. It might be a little more personal than she had first thought. “Can we listen to this one? You’d technically be taking me up on the request to play for me sometime.”

“Yeah, they’re rough - obviously. So if you could try to not bruise my ego, at least not more than you usually do,” he grins and she looks at him with dead eyes. A smile cracks on her face quickly, still.

“I wouldn’t...this is different,” she struggles to find the right words. She would never make fun of something he cared a lot about, not now. She wasn’t that person, it was odd to think he maybe saw her like that. She shook away the thought and focused on placing the CD in its player correctly.

The first song begins to play, he’s right it is rough, it’s a demo. There’s no backing vocals or beat of any kind. Just a voice and a guitar. And it’s amazing. After the guitar intro, she lets out a breath she had been holding when she hears the voice. His voice. It’s beautiful. And she’s shocked, her eyes flash to Harry. He’s nibbling at his bottom lip, watching her hear it for the first time. His voice from all those years ago.

“Brooklyn saw me empty at the news, there’s no water inside this swimming pool.”

Her eyes light up again at the lyrics and she smiles, finding it melancholic yet slightly funny at the same time. It was interesting, the words, his voice, the meaning. Some bits of information eluded her, but she knew she enjoyed the song.

“And I’ve been praying, I never did before.”

Even as the song moved on from this one lyric, she felt it replaying in her head as she watched the singer in front of her. Years older than he had been when he had written this song. She was filled with questions and paused the CD as the guitar faded out.

“That’s it?” Harry laughs, “Just one song? It was really that horrible?”

“Oh my god, no!” She is emphatic, needing Harry to understand she’s serious. She takes a step closer to his figure. He had traveled closer to her while the song had played. They were almost chest to chest and her hand goes out to touch his forearm. “I really liked it, genuinely. I just needed a moment before the next one.”

“Bracing yourself?”

“Stop, I’m serious. It was beautiful. Your voice is wonderful, Harry.”

His eyes sparkle at the praise, finally believing she’s not taking the piss. Then his eyes dropped from her gaze, “I was a lot younger then, was 21 I think when I recorded this demo.”

“So? A voice like that doesn’t just disappear, dude.” She looks at him with a finality in her expression before dropping the hand that was firmly gripping his tattooed arm and turning back to the CD player.

Harry bites his lip as another one of his early songs plays over the shoddy speakers. His voice repeats “Meet me in the hallway” over the solo guitar. There’s no echo or bass, no count in like the final song was supposed to have. It’s just him and his guitar, before he chose to leave it all behind.

His voice is sadder here, she notices and she visibly winces at “just take the pain away” and “just let me know, I’ll be on the floor” and his repetition of “gotta get better.”

How did this man, who seemed fazed by practically nothing, have so much hurt in him to write both of these songs? Her eyes welled with water, but she blinked them back still staring at the singer before her. He was watching the CD spin in the player as his voice came through the speakers. He was lost in thought, in memory. Maybe she was lucky, these weren’t memories for her, she was only hearing his interpretation of his life. She hadn’t had to live that pain first hand. This time she doesn’t pause before the next song.

The next one seems more produced than the last two. This one starts with drums, a step up from the last two acoustic demos in respect to production. A big crash and then a wailing guitar and an accompanying voice. His voice is stronger here, more sure of himself. And then it changes again, melancholic once again and her heart strings are yanked at again.

“We’re not who we used to be, we’re just two ghosts standing in the place of you and me, trying to remember how it feels to have a heartbeat.”

The guitar continues that sad tone for a riff and then goes back to strumming beneath his voice. She shifts her eyes to him again and sighs softly, it weighs heavy on her soul that the man next to her has seemingly been through so much heartache. He looks up at “We don’t see what we used to see” and she holds his gaze, brows knit together in confusion and sadness. She pauses this time, finger reaching out without looking.

“This is depressing, please tell me they’re not all sad songs or I might as well have turned on a pet rescue commercial.”

His smile etches on his face, in a small knowing smirk and he crosses into her personal space. She’s about to step back, but he reaches out and softly bats her finger away from the pause/play button. She smiles back, shuffling to lean against the counter beside him. It was unusual for them to be on the same side of the counter, much like last night at the bar.

“There’s six songs on this demo. Three sad, three…” he trails off, looking at her expectantly. She nods. “You gotta learn to be a little less impatient, hmm?”

“Not impatient, just trying to brace myself for more sadness. I thought I had been promised a day of fun,” she grumbles.

“I wasn’t the one who suggested a demo listening party,” his brows raise and she twists her mouth to the side at his smug response.

“True,” she finally concedes with a murmur.

He presses play and a new song comes on that is more upbeat than any of the other’s that have played so far. It also seems to be a bit more produced than the first two. Her hand rests on the countertop and begins to tap, she quirks her brow at the first lyric “she’s got a family in carolina, so far away, but she says I remind her of home.”  A girl who likened Harry Styles to the South of the United States, interesting. As she listens to the lyrics, she smirks at the massive crush he must have had to write this song. The “good girl” lyrics bounce around in her mind and her mind drifts back to last night. Would it have felt good? To kiss Harry?

Then, she’s brought out of her reverie with “I met her once and wrote a song about her”. Her eyes widen and look to Harry again inquisitively as his past self muses over how good this girl felt. He wrote about a one night stand? That woman must have been magic. That was all she had to say about that.

“Really?” She asks incredulously, folding her arms over her chest. His gaze flickers at the movement, human nature. He presses pause.

“What?”

“A one night stand earned that?”

He looked at her seriously, like the answer was obvious. She laughs before continuing.

“You’re a simp.”

“I’m sorry?” He sputters at her statement immediately.

She raises her brows as a response now. Nothing else to say.

“She wasn’t a one night stand,” he defends, “She was a blind date...and it had been after a dry spell.”

She starts to laugh, about to give another snarky response, but he adds, “And I was twenty-one.” The numbers specifically enunciated.

“You’re still a simp in my book...but I liked the song. It was catchy, rock vibes in there. I don’t know about her telling you remind her of Carolina - north or south, I don’t see it.”

He eyes her warily, still not happy with her titling him that gen z term that was super popular all over the internet. He took her in and he knew she was only three years younger than him, he was pretty sure, yet she used ‘simp’ and ‘vibes’ like they were lexicon words. He didn’t hate it, it was just different than what he usually heard in the little border town. Italian not having translations for things like that, English was so interesting, internet language was so interesting.  

“I-” He starts and stops. “She said it. Was she right? That’s not my place to judge.”

“I don’t know,” Y/N pressed, words dragging out playfully, “Personally, I wouldn’t want to be a reminder of the U.S. South, but okay...simp.”

“I swear to god if you call me that one more time, I’m throwing you overboard and I won’t feel bad about it.”

Her eyes widen and then she smiles, he cracks a smile too. They huddle back around the CD player, ready for the next song. It starts with a strong guitar and drums, again well produced compared to the acoustic earlier ones.

His voice in this is far more shaky, unsure of himself again. “Let me take my medicine, take my medicine, treat you like a gentleman,” comes through the speakers. She shivers and looks at him, her fingers tapping along to the beat. The instruments are strong where his voice is soft, it doesn’t exactly fit, but she likes the lyrics still. When it gets to the pre-chorus, that’s when she knows she loves the song.

“I had a few got drunk on you and now I’m wasted, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (tasted)”

When his voice pitches high for ‘wasted’ she loses it. Her body moves with the instruments and her eyes close and her head wiggles. Harry smiles happily as she dances for the first time to one of his songs. The last word must have been shouted by his bandmates, because she doesn’t hear him say it.

Then the chorus hits and she wonders how it got even better. Her eyes shoot open and she just stares at Harry, her jaw slightly dropped.

“If you got out tonight, I’m going out tonight cause I know you’re persuasive! You got that something and I got me an appetite now I can taste it”

His past self sings of getting dizzy and his voice moans into the mic the demo was recorded on. She’s blown away. It sounds so hot, his voice gaining confidence during the pre-chorus and the chorus to have an all around rockstar sound.

The present Harry just taps his rings together as he watches her, studying her reaction with an even-tempered expression. Why isn’t he screaming like she is on the inside? When it gets to the second verse she’s bracing herself for what’s to come. This song has her pulse racing and blood flowing wildly around her body. She’s buzzing from it.

“The boys and the girls are in, I mess around with him and I’m okay with it”

The electric guitar follows the line up and she thinks she’s going to pass out on this boat right now. Flamboyant Harry. Was this what Marie had been talking about. The wild side of Harry she really had never seen, embodied in one song. She wanted more of it. Still all she got was the Harry on the demo rocking out to his song. She can hear him smiling through the recording, the sad boy from a few songs ago was now feeling euphoric. She just wanted to dance the night away with him.

Then another pre-chorus: “I’m coming down, I figured out I kinda like it, and when I sleep I’m gonna dream of how you (ride it)”

His voice goes high again for ‘like it’ this time and her question of what is to follow is quickly answered with the bandmates screaming ‘ride it’ into the mics they must have had. It’s punctuated with the drums and other instruments. A noise escapes the back of her throat and Harry looks at her both smugly and amused. She rolls her eyes in response, trying to convince Harry that she hadn’t just had images of him singing about how good someone rides him flash in her mind. Even more so with the images of someone, namely her, being the object of his dreams. Doing the things he said he’d dream of. That, that was definitely not what she was thinking about. Definitely not. Her throat was dry and she swallowed hard. Harry’s eyes never left her face. Watching every reaction, gauging it and storing the information elsewhere for the time being.

She sings along to the chorus, trying to focus on the song, it was easy to pick up, but then the damn moans. And then there’s a guitar solo that sounds like sex itself and she’s baffled that this was an unreleased demo, not a famous rock song. Harry in front of her can’t stop himself from tapping his feet at this part, a little dance forming on his body as his eyes finally leave her figure. They close as he feels the music, the memory of his friend playing the riff clear in his mind and how much he had loved it. It builds up again and then there’s a final chorus. She watches him now as he dances in the confined space. His mouth opens to sing along to the “la la la’s”

It ends and goes straight into another upbeat song. It seemed like a complimentary song to the one that had just played.

“I don’t want your sympathy, but you don’t know what you do to me, oh Anna!”

His voice sings strong again. Harry before her composed himself again, going back to his watching position. He took in her tapping and smiling to the song. He also mouths the words slightly as it plays, the lyrics clear as the day he finished writing them almost 4 years ago. One of the final ones for this demo.

“Hope you never hear this and know that it’s for you, don’t know what I’d tell you if you asked me for the truth”

She smirks at him, now, with the earnest lyrics, about to say something, but then notices the change in the guitar. It switches from the epic riff that was going to a more familiar tune, “Faith” by George Michael. She looks at him, a cheesy grin on her face as the voice begins to sing the chorus of that song. Her body begins to dance to it, like an old man doing the twist. She’s not ashamed and Harry loves it and joins her by mirroring the movements.

When the song comes to an end, they’re one large giggling mess. She falls into his arms and he holds her steady, their laughter coming out with freedom.

“Thanks for making me be patient,” She looks up at him, “it was worth it!”

He smiles, backing up slightly, “It’s like I knew what I was talking about.”

“Ok smart guy,” she teases with a silly voice. “I’m assuming whoever Anna is, isn’t actually named Anna then...?”

Harry hums and makes a twitch of his brows, but doesn’t respond. Instead he grabs her hand and she squeaks slightly, he pulls her to the ladder and prompts her to go up. She obliges silently and lands back on the top of the boat now. She looks out and sees the little town to be off in the distances now, shining blue water all around the creamy white boat.

Harry stands behind her now and shuts the hatch easily. She looks at him warily, confused by his silence. He extends his hand to her this time and she takes it. He leads her to the front of his boat. They’re moving, but so slowly you’d barely notice. There’s a loveseat of sorts right at the front and Harry sets her down in it. She smiles at him with caution, still bewildered. He leans against a part of the boat that stands in front of the seat.

“It’s beautiful, right?” He asks.

Her eyes have been looking around her, but they’ve mostly been trained on Harry. She was mesmerized by him now. His music, his boat, his clothes, his everything. She was seeing him in a new light. In a completely brand new way that had her unable to take her eyes off of him.

She nods finally when Harry looks at her expectantly. “It’s amazing,” she breathes.

His smile is the half-sided grin again. Beautiful big teeth on display with a little part of space between them. His dimple pops out and once again her eyes are on his face. She realized going on this boat with Harry might not have been such a good idea.  

He folds his arms, her eyes flicker down. Every movement he makes, she doesn’t want to miss it. Even if she also is telling her mind to shake it off, she can’t. It’s like a spell.

“Obviously Anna is a pseudonym,” he says finally, eyes watching where the boat was taking him. She nods in approval. He pauses, watching the little waves, but she knows he has more to say.

“What did you think of the rest of it?” He asks quietly, gaze never going back to her. He knew she’d teased him a little and had danced along to some. She’d looked at him with wide eyes at some lyrics, but he wanted to know what she really thought.

She can tell he’s nervous, but she doesn’t understand why. They were all very good songs, his voice was beautiful, the lyrics were interesting. She didn’t understand his lack of confidence. His first time not exhibiting his usual self-assured - self-absorbed, even - personality. She bites her lip in confusion and his brows knit together, further showing his apprehension. The wrinkles in his forehead show up more prominently and she’s reminded that Harry is 26. He’s a different person now then he was back when he recorded that demo. Maybe there was a reason he kept them on the boat. She felt unsure in her response now.

“They were all great, Harry.” His face softens immediately. “Each one was beautifully written and sung. The ones that were acoustic sounded wonderful as did the ones with your whole band. I’m honored to be someone who got to hear those masterpieces.”

She wanted to tell them they should be famous songs, but she had a feeling that might not have the effect on him that she wanted. He had chosen a little quiet life in the little border town. She didn’t think he would want to hear how his music could have made it big time.

“Thank you,” he murmurs, just about the sounds of the sea. He lets a closed mouth smile twist onto his face, but it feels like he doesn’t fully believe her. She wants to kiss his worry away, but again, she knows it’s not possible. His words from earlier rang in her head. It would make things weird. Yeah, you’re right. Ugh, why had she agreed. She didn’t agree, not at all, not anymore.

“Did you have a favorite?” He stands up straighter with his question.

She laughs slightly, “I liked the second to last one a lot. It was hot.”

“Hot how?” He steps closer, smirking.

She jumps up from her reclined seat, in indignation, “Oh come on, you know it’s hot. Now you’re just looking for me to stroke your ego! It’s obviously about sex.”

“And? You’re the one who’s saying it’s your favorite and blushing.” He arches a brow at her, arms going to his hips and looking at her teasingly.

“Well, you’re the one who was singing about sucking dick and dreaming of how someone rode you.”

“Is that what it’s about?” His voice raises as he purses his lips and raises both of his brows.

She realizes just how worked up he’s gotten her in such a short amount of time. She huffs and turns away from him with a flick of her hand. “You’re infuriating.” Is all she can say. She looks out at the waves now, ignoring Harry even though he’s less than a foot away.

He’s laughing behind her for a little. Then when she doesn’t turn around, he quiets and she’s not quite sure where he’s gone. Then his breath fans over her neck and right shoulder, where her jacket hasn’t managed to cover her. It’s warm and a little minty as the scent travels over the salty sea air. She doesn’t turn or move a muscle for that matter.

A hand reaches out to her shoulder, but still she makes no move to turn. It rests there for a minute and she simply huffs again, letting her shoulders rise and fall dramatically. A single laugh slips from Harry’s mouth.

“C’mon diavola, don’t be like that. S’all in good fun.” His voice is low in her ear, sultry even. It reminds her of his voice in that song once he got into it. His voice sounds like sex in her ear and this time when she sighs it’s not because she’s irritated with him. No, she wants him. The sigh has an undercurrent of that desire and she hopes Harry doesn’t understand that. But otherwise she stays quiet, letting him murmur into her ear with his hand on her shoulder and his chest pressed to her back now. The only witness of this exchange is the ocean before them.

His head leans closer and if she didn’t know any better it felt like he was about to press a kiss to her neck. Instead all she feels is the brush of his mustache, it tickles the shell of her ear and she can’t keep in the giggle. She twists away from the sensation and Harry is grinning at her when she faces him.

His hand still on her shoulder and his body still pressed close to hers. He’s so warm and so close and so shiny new in her eyes, even if he still manages to irritate her. Her eyes flicker up to his as their laughter quiets down. She realizes her own hands have gone to his waist to steady herself and she follows his feet as he backs them up from the edge of the boat that she had brought them too.

It’s quiet again. They’re staring at each other intently. Her eyes are swirling with emotion because she just wants to know what’s going on in the brain of the man before her. She wants to know everything about him, but she knows that’s not how he feels about her. Sure, they’re friends now, but nothing else.

Why did she have to come on this stupid boat and find his stupid amazing music? Why did he have such a stupid amazing face?

These questions and other silly things were racing around her head as she gripped his waist. He didn’t mind her quietness, he found her gaze to be a little unnerving, but he was just glad he had made her laugh. He found that he didn’t enjoy her anger at him as much anymore.

Just as he was about to start another conversation, there was a cloud that drifted over the shining sun. It was her original fear come to life. Harry’s brows furrowed as he looked up at the clouds. They were turning grey. Fast.

“Shit, shit, shit,” He began mumbling and released his hand from her shoulder. He pulled away from her hold and began moving swiftly around the boat. He needed to get them off the water, there was a storm coming.

Her eyes went wide as she noticed the approaching storm as well. Her brows furrowed with worry as she watched Harry begin working on the boat, his only words being curses to himself at first.

Then he enlists her help, asking her to hold onto a specific part of the boat for him after he threw her a life vest and made her put it on. She wore it with great dissatisfaction. He only shrugged as he continued to move nimbly around the boat, turning them around, back to the dock.  

The boat moved much swifter into the shore than it had on their way out. The waves were growing choppier by the minute and she would admit she was more than a little scared. Thankfully, Harry knew what he was doing and got them there quickly and safely. Once at the dock, he tied them there and then helped her off the boat. She stood on the dock uncomfortably as the rain started to come down.

“Give me your lifevest!” He gestures from the boat.

She quickly takes it off and flinches when the first bout of thunder sounds from far off. He takes it from her and throws it haphazardly down the hatch along with his own before jumping off the boat himself. He surveys the boat from the dock to make sure he hasn’t forgotten anything. Then he looks at her. She’s wrapped her arms around herself and is ducking her head, looking like she’s attempting to ward off rain but failing miserably.

She looks up at him and he offers a soft smile of reassurance.

“Take my hand!” He shouts slightly over the growing sound of rain and thunder. He wants to get them out of the rain, but he’s also apprehensive to leave his boat to the mercy of the weather. Still, that’s all he can do.

She puts her hand in his and his fingers weave with hers. Then, they’re off racing back to their street in the little border town.

-

“I should go back to my place!”

“Don’t be silly! France is much too far for you to go in this weather!”

She laughs and grips his hand tighter as he fumbles for his key. His wet hand slipping as the rain droplets soak their clothes and skin. Even though her door is a mere few feet away she allows Harry to pull her into his shop. The warmth and dryness appreciated after running a few blocks in the now torrential downpour. There weren’t storms often in the little border town, but like the old adage said ‘when it rained, it poured’ quite literally. The less she had to travel in the rain the happier she was, even if it was three measly feet.

It also occurred to her that she’d be able to sit out her first storm with someone by her side. And she would admit that didn’t sound like the worst thing in the world. She wasn’t necessarily a fan of storms and being in a new place with a storm she’d never weathered before was daunting. Harry inviting her in was a blessing. She didn’t have to be asked twice.

Once inside the little shop, their wet frames begin to form puddles beneath themselves. Harry sighs and takes off up his rickety stairs. She looks after him in confusion but stays put when he calls a quick “Wait there!”

She shakes a bit of the rain from her and shivers as she listens for Harry’s movements barely audible above the crashing of the rain water. When he returns, her breath catches in her throat, like she just choked on something, yet there’s nothing.

As he walks down the steps, far slower now, his wet hair shakes out around his head forming some ethereal halo. The light from upstairs illuminates him and the darkness outside casts an ominous darkness as he descends.

“Un ange…” She whispers after finally catching her breath.

If he hears her, it doesn’t matter. He’s already beginning to smile widely just from seeing Y/N before him.

He skips the last step and crosses to her swiftly. “Let’s get you dried a little more,” he begins to dote. A matching smile spreads on Y/N’s face out of appreciation. She still can’t manage to fend off the shivering and Harry’s smile falters. His hands leave the towel and trace her exposed skin. Her cheek feels like ice, only slightly warming under his touch.

“You need dry clothes,” he mumbles.

Her eyes widen as she looks up at him. He’s so close and so attentive and she wants to ask him to kiss her because they’ve been going back and forth all day, but he’s right she’s freezing. His eyes are so intense though she can’t even maintain eye contact. Instead her gaze flits up to the droplet beginning to swell down one of his rogue strands of hair that flopped over his forehead moments ago.

She doesn’t respond as she watches and Harry begins to worry more. Her eyes seemingly unfocused, her shivering, and her silence. He thumbs over the apple of her cheekbone and finally breaks her reverie. The droplet splashing between them without her as its audience.

“C’mon,” he tugs her hand now to bring her upstairs.

[fallen-gravity]

Fightin’ Back Chapter 3

Chapter Notes:  Final stretch, boys! This is the last chapter that takes place in season one before we get into the heavier themes of season two. Boyz Crazy this time, and probably the only emotional hurt/comfort chapter of the entire fic.

So, uh, this has actually been up on AO3 for a few days already, but it completely slipped my mind to post the tumblr link until now. My bad 😂

AO3

The car is uncomfortably quiet as Stan pulls away from Lookout Point. Dipper’s leaning against the passenger side door, staring into the mirror like if he stares at Wendy long enough she’ll notice and chase after them to apologize to him for snapping at him. Stan taps at the steering wheel rhythmically, just to get some sort of noise to break the tension in the air, and Dipper sighs. 

It’s sad, really. The kid had been so excited to split Wendy and Robbie up before they left that he tried to insist on driving the golf cart up there himself. But he had no idea where Lookout Point even was, and Stan was sure someone was finally going to notice that the golf karts were stolen from the Northwest Golf Course, so he offered to drive him there in the car instead. And even then, the kid had been so excited he was bouncing in his seat the entire drive over. Stan’s sure he would’ve neglected the seatbelt altogether if he hadn’t reached over and clicked it into place for him. He was going on and on and on about code deceptions and the supernatural and how Robbie must’ve gotten the CD at some evil black market, or maybe he really did burn the CD himself and he’s secretly a vampire demon or something, and how that reminds him that he should “try mixing some salt into his spray bottle of holy water the next time he’s out demon hunting”, but now that everything’s over and done with and Wendy bitterly insisted she’d rather walk home than be with any of them right now, Dipper’s looking more like a sick puppy limping home with his tail tucked between his legs.

“Ah, don’t think too much into it, kid” Stan says, and Dipper finally breaks free from his mirror trance to spare him a defeated look in his eyes. “The breakup’s still fresh. I bet by this time tomorrow she’ll be all over you, swooning over how you saved her from that horrible monster”. 

Dipper doesn’t respond, just raises an eyebrow at him and goes right back into staring out the window. Least they’re too far away for him to still be staring at Wendy out the rear view mirror. 

“I mean it!” Stan barks a laugh. “Never got to finish that story I was telling you earlier. So after Carla ran off with that hippie, I stuck around to see how things were going with her. I was sure there was something about him that he wasn’t telling her.” He pounds at his chest with one of his fists. “And I was right! Turns out the dude’s guitar was, uh, cursed. So one day while he was sleeping I broke into his apartment and smashed the thing to pieces. After he had nothing left to show for himself, Carla came running back to me. Even drove the guy’s van into the ravine just so he couldn’t bother us again”

There’s a hint of a smile on Dipper’s face. “I don’t think I’d sink low enough to break the law, Grunkle Stan.”  He pulls himself away from the window. “Plus I thought you said she hated you for doing that"

Stan taps at his head. “You gotta work on your listening skills, Dips. I said he hated me for doing that” 

Dipper rolls his eyes at him, the most Dipper thing he’s done since getting back in the car to head home.

“Look, my point is, you gotta learn to look at things more positively. Maybe she wants nothing to do with you now, but tomorrow? You never know”.

Dipper flinches at the idea, but this time when he sighs it sounds more like he’s trying to calm his own nerves than like he’s trying not to cry. 

Stan pulls the car up to the back of the shack and unlocks the door. He steps out, and just as he’s about to head into the house he turns heel to talk to Dipper before the kid has time to run past him up to his bedroom to mope. “How’s about we sit in the living room with a couple a’ Pitt Colas and watch a movie to forget about the whole ordeal? Your choice”

Dipper mumbles something about movie night to himself, but only responds to Stan’s offer with a shrug. “I’m not in the mood. You can go in without me. I’ll come in when I’m ready”

Yeah, okay, Stan’s not buying that for a minute. He knows by now that when Dipper starts moping, the kid isn’t gonna move for hours. It’ll be two in the morning before he decides to come in, and even later if he accidentally falls asleep.

No mention that there’s child protection laws against leaving kids in locked cars.

…and that car-eating tree monster Stan’s sure he’s read about in that first Journal. 

Screw it. 

Stan gets back in the car, but Dipper doesn’t so much as blink when Stan closes the door behind him. Stan’s willing to believe that it’s because Dipper assumed he went inside, and whoa, okay, whoever put the idea in the kid’s head that he’s not worth the time of day is gonna need to start answering questions fast.

He turns the keys to start the ignition, and Dipper nearly jumps out of his skin when his door clicks locked on him. “Grunkle Stan?” he asks, once he realizes the car is pulling away again. “Where are you taking me?”

“Y’got cotton in your ears? I told you before, kid, I’m taking you bowling”

“Right now? I thought you were just saying that to make me feel better”.

“I was!” Stan flashes a grin. “But I never specified that you had a choice in the matter, now did I?”

Dipper opens his mouth to argue, but before he can get so much as a word out, Stan speeds out of the driveway so quickly that Dipper’s head whacks against the headrest of his seat.

~~~~~~~

Friday nights are usually the busiest day of the week for the bowling alley, but when you know exactly the right kind of people and have just the right amount of bribe money in your pocket, you can waltz in and get any lane you want as fast as you want.

Dipper, despite all of this, doesn’t seem as thrilled about the idea of bowling as Stan is. 

“Aw, c’mon, kid” Stan gently nudges him with his elbow. “I’m letting you go first! Everyone knows the person who gets to bowl first is the person you need to beat. It’s a privilege, if you ask me” 

“I dunno, Grunkle Stan” he fiddles with the laces of his sneakers. “I appreciate the gesture, and all, but...I’m just not feeling up for it tonight”

Stan raises an eyebrow. “Not up for beating me at something you know you can hold over me the rest of the summer?”  He scooches closer to Dipper on the bench. “Now I know something’s really wrong. This still about Wendy?”

He winces at the mention of her name like he’d just been slapped in the face, and Stan sighs.

“Look, Dips…” he pauses, trying to figure out to work around making this sound like the most awkward conversation he’s ever had with...anyone, let alone his own nephew. “Who needs women, am I right?”  He raises the can of soda he’d bought from the snack bar in a toast, but Dipper only rubs at his arm awkwardly. 

There’s gotta be something that’ll get Dipper to understand how many times Stan’s found himself in the exact same situation. 

Well, okay, Stan knows exactly what’ll get him to understand, but if he goes around telling so much as Mabel, the kid’s dead to him.

He sighs. “Kiddo, if you repeat what I’m about to tell you, you’re dead. Not just to me, I’m talkin’ dead dead. Got it?”

That seems to be enough to catch his attention. “O-of course” he repeats, like Stan’s about to tell him the secrets to unlocking the universe. It almost makes Stan wish that his story were more interesting. 

“Truth is, that story I told you about Carla ain’t exactly how it actually went”

Dipper blinks. “I…know. You told me that earlier” 

“No, I mean…” Stan pinches the bridge of his nose. “I mean, none of it was true. Obviously nobody rocketed off into the sky on a rainbow, or anything, but...Carla and I hadn’t even been dating anymore”

“What?” Dipper’s voice squeaks, and Stan chuckles.

“Well, we had been dating, y’see? But she’d just broken up with me a few days ago when I decided to stop over to the Juke Joint to see if she’d wanted to talk about changing her mind” he raises his hands in defense. “I only went in to talk. Scout’s honor, or...whatever it is your sister says.” He shakes his head. “Anyway, I get in there, and that hippy really is playing his transcendental music up on this tiny stage they had there”.

He takes a hard swig of his soda like it was a shot glass. “But Carla was up there with him, y’see? She was singing to some...weird folksy song that I’d never heard of before. Didn’t even sound like she was singing in English.” He leans back on the bench, resting his hands at the back of his head as he turns his gaze to Dipper. “That’s how I knew I lost her for good. So instead of causing a scene like some kinda....jerk”, he catches himself, “I ran out into the parking lot and hotwired her new boyfriend’s van and hightailed it outta there”.

The gaze that Dipper gives him is sympathetic, but he’s also covering his hand over his mouth like he’s trying not to giggle. 

“See? What’d I tell ya?” Stan flashes a grin. “You don’t need girls to show you a good time” he raises his drink towards the television screen above their bowling lane, still flashing with Dipper’s name. “You can always have a great time with your Grunkle Stan! No chance of eventual heartbreak with me”

“I know, I know…” Dipper stands to play his turn, and pretends the weight of the bowling ball doesn’t tip him over as he chucks it down the lane. The ball careens off to the side at the last second, barely even scraping the surface of the pins. “But I don’t think that’s entirely what’s bothering me” His second throw knocks down all but two pins, leaving him with a seven-ten split.  The screen switches to flashing Stan’s name, and Dipper turns to him as he returns to his seat.

Now we’re getting somewhere. Stan stands, pretending to appear dismissive in case it’s something Dipper doesn’t want to admit with all eyes on him. “You tellin’ me I just told you my biggest secret for nothing?”

Dipper blushes. “N-no! That’s not what I meant”. He sighs, looking down at his hands. “I mean, Wendy’s really one of the first people to really...accept me into her friend group.” This time he’s the one waving a defensive hand in the air. “Not that I’m saying I’ve never had friends before,” he squeaks, “...but they’ve felt…forced? Since Mabel and I were in a lot of the same friend circles, it just...always felt like they liked her better than me and only let me tag along because they knew I was related to her, or something”

Wow, okay, that hits way closer to home than Stan was expecting it to. He opens his mouth to comment, but it turns out that he’s not talking.

“But in comes Wendy, and y-yeah! Maybe some of it has to do with...other things” his face is turning pink, and he’s trying to hide in his vest. “But she’s so cool to me, and it doesn’t feel at all like she’s just using me to get to Mabel. Her friends like to make babysitting jokes whenever we tag along with them, but with Wendy  it feels like she really wants us to be there” He sighs, and slumps against his seat. “What if she hates me? Or never talks to me again? Or she quits working at the Mystery Shack because she doesn’t want to be around me, or-or she does keep hanging around, but it’s just like everyone at school, and she’s only there for Mabel, but she’s too cool to cause a scene and tell me to leave, and-”

“Breathe, kid” Stan’s at his side in an instant, gripping firmly onto Dipper’s arm to help him back onto his chair before he falls to the floor. “You’re gonna give yourself a panic attack.” He loosens his grip on Dipper’s arm once the color starts returning to his face. “Tell me, you really think Wendy’s the kinda person to kick you to the curb like that?”

Dipper doesn’t respond right away, but he’s taking deep breaths, which is a good sign. “No, I guess not…” he physically turns his body towards Stan to look at him, probably to prevent another dizzying spell. “But she looked so angry at me, and she grouped me together with Robbie, and she’s probably never talking to him again, I’m just….so worried I’m gonna lose the coolest friend I’ll probably ever have”.

Stan shrugs. “Trust me, bud, you do not have to worry about that. Teenagers are just like that. Y’get angry, you need to blow off steam for a few hours, but come tomorrow you’re over it like it never happened”. Stan finally goes to take his turn, lobbing the ball down the lane like it weighs little more than a penny. It slips into the gutter, but at the last second it careens back up and knocks all the pins over. He grins, pumping his arms in the air, and turns his gaze back towards Dipper. “You should’ve seen me when I was her age! I’d break a window, I’d punch a jerk in the face, and then I’d be over it”

“Grunkle Stan, you’re still like that”

“Exactly!” he boasts. “And you don’t see me holding grudges against people who don’t deserve it, do ya? You know you meant well, Dipper, and I’m sure it won’t take long for her to realize that too.”

Dipper’s playing with the edge of his vest. “I guess so”.

“There, see?” Stan gently nudges him as he sits down beside him again. “Problem solved”. He says, but backtracks a little when he remembers what Dipper had said about his anxieties around making friends. “And if you ever need any of my advice on how to talk to girls without using any creepy mind-altering CDs, I’m your guy” he flashes Dipper a thumbs up, and it makes him smile.

“Thanks, Grunkle Stan. I’ll keep that in mind”.

[justlightlysedated]

Selcouth for Malex? 💗

29. selcouth - unfamiliar, rare, strange, and yet wonderful

“Michael Guerin, isn’t exactly an alien name,” Alex muses as he tilts his head back and lets out a plume of smoke into the air.

Michael hasn’t looked away from him since Rosa had introduced him as her temporary roommate, given that Liz had enrolled for the Alien Exchange Program.

She gets to spend one semester in Antar, and an Antarian gets to spend one semester on Earth.

The staring might’ve gotten a little unnerving, but Michael didn’t look like an alien either.

He looked human, at least on the outside, and not a bad looking human either.

No one ever looks at Alex the way that Michael is, and it makes Alex wonder if Michael is human all over.

Michael licks his lips, taking a sip of the drink that Rosa had placed in his hands before disappearing back downstairs to the party leaving Michael with Alex on the roof.

“I am Rath of Antar,” Michael says after a second looking away for the first time.

Alex purses his mouth and takes another hit of the lit joint Rosa also left behind.

“Rath, huh?” He says and sees the way that Michael shifts like he’s uncomfortable.

“I kind of like Guerin, better,” Alex says nonchalantly, and sees the way that Michael relaxes and sends him a smile and a look from beneath his curly fringe.

“Thanks, I chose it myself.”

**

Alex moved Michael’s fingers on the fret even though technically, they weren’t in the wrong position.

Michael was a fast learner. Picking up the lessons quickly, and Alex was running out of reasons to touch him, even though it didn’t seem like Michael minded when he did.

“Okay,” Alex says leaning back. “Play.”

Michael inhales deeply, and starts to play through the intro of the song that Alex had been teaching him.

His eyes fell shut, and his lips parted, and he went through the chords again, starting the melody over.

Alex watches him feeling his breath catch in his chest as Michael seems to start to glow softly from within, a soft golden glow that Alex can’t look away from.

Michael’s eyes flutter open and he catches Alex’s eyes and the glow seems to get brighter, and Alex begins to feel warm as though Michael is exuding heat as well as light.

He seems to realize what he’s doing and freaks out, giving Alex a wide eyed stare and looks away as the glow goes out like someone switched off a light.

Alex watches him speculatively as Michael goes through the chord progression again.

“Sorry,” he says startling Alex who wasn’t really expecting him to talk, since he hardly ever did.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alex says feeling a little confused. “I already knew you were an alien. Strangeness is totally expected.”

Michael looks back to him with wide eyes as though he wasn’t expecting Alex to say that.

Alex swallows hard and gives him a smile, “I think you know enough to start on the rest of the song.”

Michael nods his head slowly, and listens to Alex as he goes through the finger movements verbally, with an intent look on his face as he looks at Alex’s fingers.

Alex bites down on his lip as Michael inhales deeply and gives him a quick indescribable look before he starts to play.

He goes through the whole song once, and then starts it all over again, and it’s only when he’s halfway through the second time, that he starts to glow again.

Alex watches him intently and wonders why, and if Michael would tell him if he asked.

**

“Have you ever seen Michael glow?” Alex asks as he watches Michael look intently at a customer giving their order from his position in the furthest booth where he can see the whole diner at the same time.

Rosa makes a bored sound as she continues going through the stack of CDs she’d asked Alex to bring.

“Only when he’s sleeping in that pod of his,” she answers. “Maybe it’s like a warning to all potential predators, or it could just mean he feels secure, after all, that pod is the only place on earth where nothing can hurt him.”

Alex feels the heat flare up the back of his neck and to his cheeks, and he looks over to where Michael is staring right back at him.

He smiles and Michael bumps into one of the tables dropping and then catching the tray of milkshakes he’d been carrying with his powers, face tomato red.

Rosa snorts, and Alex looks down at the table biting his lip down on the smile that wants to take over his face.

**

After many failed experiments, Rosa finally managed to find a way to get Michael high.

He lies back on the roof of the Crashdown, looking up at the stars with wide eyes.

Alex watches him as he finishes the joint that Rosa left when she went to go make out with Maria in her bedroom.

He sets the joint aside and lets it burn itself out as he leans forward a little, reaching out and tugging on one of his curls.

Michael turns his head towards Alex slowly, blinking, drowsily as though he were moments from falling asleep.

Since he doesn’t tell him to stop, Alex settles himself on his stomach, resting his chin on one of his arms, the other arm extended, fingers sneaking their way through Michael’s curls, tugging on them and biting his lip on a giggle when they bounce back to their curly shape.

“Why don’t you like the name Rath?” Alex asks curiously, not really expecting an answer, so when Michael does start speaking, he jumps a little bit.

“Rath of Antar is the son of a general, expected to follow in his father’s footsteps. My whole life, he’s been training me to take over when he retires, but that’s not the life that I want.”

“And what do you want?” Alex asks settling his hand on top of Michael’s head.

Michael looks at him and Alex looks back, and doesn’t move when Michael turns to his stomach as well.

The move puts him firmly in Alex’s personal space, and Alex finds it difficult to think for a second.

Michael takes advantage to slide his hand to the back of Alex’s neck, fingers digging in as his gaze zeroes on Alex’s mouth and he tugs him in gently.

“Wait,” Alex breathes as their noses brush.

Michael stops moving, and darts his eyes up to look into Alex’s eyes.

Alex feels all the air catch in his lungs.

He’s never seen Michael’s eyes from this close, and even in the dim light Alex can see the swirl of green and gold and brown and dark, dark blues that make up the color of his iris. His pupils are blown wide enough that Alex knows he’s still really fucking high.

“Not now,” Alex breathes, and Michael pulls away a little.

Alex finds himself moving forward in spite of the fact that he still doesn’t think they should kiss right now.

Michael gives him a considering look.

“You’re high,” Alex points out redundantly. “And I’m high, and while normally I don’t mind making out while high-”

Michael’s face falls to a frown, and Alex bites his lip before he continues speaking.

“I don’t want our first kiss to be while high,” Alex admits.

Michael stops avoiding Alex’s gaze and stares back at him.

He just nods his head slowly. “Okay, tomorrow?”

Alex feels a zing go down his spine at the thought that tomorrow he might actually kiss Michael.

Alex licks his lips and Michael’s eyes drop to his mouth and stays there.

“Tomorrow.”

**

Alex feels the anticipation prickling across his skin like static electricity.

He feels like his skin is on too tight, and whenever Michael looks at him for a second too long, Alex feels like he might combust.

This is crazy.

Maybe he shouldn’t have set a time for this to happen.

Maybe he should’ve just told Michael to surprise him, because the clock seems to be taking forever to reach the end of Michael’s shift at the Crashdown, and if Michael looks in his direction one more time, Alex is going to say fuck it all and pull him into the bathroom.

“Ay Dios mio,” Rosa says exasperated as Alex’s knee starts rattling the table again.

“Why don’t you just go upstairs and wait for him somewhere where you aren’t driving me crazy?”

Alex looks over to where Rosa is surrounded by all of her notes for her Art History class.

“Sorry,” he says before he slides out of the booth to head up the stairs.

Alex darts a look over to see Michael openly staring at him, standing right in the middle of the room.

Alex swallows hard and just pulls his bottom lip into his mouth.

He sees Michael take one step towards him before there is the sound of a bell, “Order up.”

Alex looks away and goes upstairs.

He goes to the guest room that Michael is using and throws himself back on the bed.

He closes his eyes and bites down on his lip and tries not to think about kissing Michael Guerin, even though it’s the only thing he’s been thinking about for weeks.

He doesn’t know how long he lies there, but he feels it when Michael walks into the room.

The door closes with a low snick sound that sends a shiver down Alex’s spine.

Alex doesn’t move from the bed.

He holds his breath as Michael walks further into the room.

He feels Michael sitting down right next to him, the heat of him seeping immediately into Alex.

He can feel Michael leaning over him, but he still doesn’t open his eyes.

Not until he feels Michael’s nose nudging against his and his breath hot across his face.

His eyes flutter open, and his breath hitches at the look in Michael’s eyes.

Michael smiles when Alex opens his eyes and he leans in and presses a soft kiss to his mouth.

Alex inhales sharply and presses into the kiss, feeling sparks of electric currents running down his spine.

Michael pulls back, but not too far, eyes opening to look at Alex.

Alex lets him stare for exactly one second, before he’s sliding his hands into Michael’s hair and pulling him down for another kiss.

**

Alex had dressed up in his best clothes (still mostly wearing black, but that was a given), he’d even tried to tame his hair a little bit instead of just spiking it up and letting it do whatever it wanted.

He asked Maria to borrow her truck and had made sure that there were no xenophobic alien movies being shown.

Michael had also dressed up, wearing a nice faded red button down and jeans that weren’t ripped at the knees.

Everything was going to plan.

They’d gotten to the drive in early enough that the good spots weren’t taken, and Alex had gone to get them some snacks after Michael had pushed him into the side of the truck and kissed him within an inch of his life.

Alex had walked away with a stupid look on his face feeling like he was walking on air.

So of course, his dad is there waiting to pounce and tell him exactly what he and everyone else thinks of his little display.

Alex feels the sting of embarrassment as he walks away from him, clutching the popcorn tightly in his hands.

Michael is sitting on the tailgate with the sixer that Rosa had put into the back of the truck with a wink when Alex had picked Michael up.

The closer he gets to him and the further he gets from his dad and his venomous words meant to poison Alex’s feelings and his good mood, the more determined Alex becomes.

“Hey,” Michael says. “Did you get some twizzlers? I really love the-”

Alex drops the popcorn beside Michael, not caring that it tips over and spills.

He kisses Michael cutting his words off, deep and wet and all consuming and unlike they’ve kissed up until this point.

Its Alex making a stand to anyone who wants to watch.

This is who he is and this is who he wants and his dad can go to hell if he thinks he’s going to scare Alex into submission.

“Whoa,” Michael says as Alex pulls back.

Alex just licks his lips and sits down beside Michael.

He pulls the twizzlers out of his pocket, and throws them on Michael’s lap as the lights go out and the movie starts to play.

Michael doesn’t look away from him.

**

“Alex!” Michael calls out and Alex curses under his breath. He’d been hoping to avoid Michael until after he saw Rosa and she could help him cover up the black and purple bruise around his eye.

This was one aspect of his life that he’d been hoping to keep away from Michael.

After his display last night, Alex knew that he was going to be in trouble as soon as he got home. All things considered, a black eye and some bruises were nothing.

Alex inhales and keeps his eyes closed until he feels Michael come up behind him.

When Michael reaches for him, Alex flinches and he can feel Michael freezing behind him.

“Alex?” He asks voice soft and confused.

Alex inhales deeply and turns around.

Michael reacts exactly how Alex had expected him to.

He gasps and steps in close, eyes going furious as he looks at the bruise around his eye and his gaze darts to the black fingerprints smudged beneath his jaw.

“Who-?” He starts sounding like he’s about to take on the whole world.

Alex can feel the way he’s vibrating even though they’re not touching because it almost feels like he’s shaking the entire street, which is entirely plausible.

Alex reaches out and wraps his fingers around Michael’s wrist, “Let’s go somewhere private?”

Michael swallows hard, but stops shaking.

He nods his head and when Alex turns to lead the way to the closed UFO Emporium, he follows close behind.

Alex leads them to the gift shop which is the most secluded spot in the whole place.

He turns to Michael, but Michael keeps walking until he’s pressing Alex gently into the wall behind them.

Alex swallows hard as Michael tilts his head and studies the bruises on his neck.

“What happened?” Michael asks and Alex can hear a tremor in his voice, echoed in the way items start rattling on the shelves.

Alex takes in a deep breath and looks up at the cracked and water damaged ceiling.

“My dad,” he starts and then swallows and starts again. “My dad is trying his own form of conversion therapy.”

Michael makes a low guttural sound that sounds like a curse in another language.

“Is it because-?”

“It wouldn’t have mattered if we stayed five feet apart,” Alex says cutting him off. “This isn’t the first time.”

Michael leans back a little and just stares at Alex with his wide probing eyes.

“I’m fine,” Alex says and Michael’s eyes narrow. “In a few months I’ll be somewhere far away from Roswell and he won’t be able to touch me again.”

Michael stares some more before he’s leaning forward and his hands are glowing, a soft pulsing red.

“What-?” Alex starts to ask, but Michael touches him, fingers pressing along the bruises on his neck and Alex feels a sudden spike in heat and he gasps reaching forward to clench his fingers in the collar of Michael’s jacket as he slides his hand up to the back of Alex’s neck and closes his eyes, brow furrowed in concentration.

Alex feels waves of heat spread from Michael’s hands cupped against his neck that radiate throughout his entire body, spreading a soothing feeling of relief everywhere, like he was dipped in a hot bath to soothe aching muscles.

Michael’s hands slide down a little fingers rubbing against his hairline as the heat intensifies.

“Guerin,” Alex gasps, tipping his head back and opening his mouth on a moan as Michael presses in close and drags his hands down to slide them up the back of Alex’s shirt, so hot that it feels like he’s branding him.

Michael pushes their hips together hard into a dirty grind that sends sparklers popping in the back of Alex’s head.

He hadn’t even realized that he’d been getting hard and now it’s all that he seems to be able to think about as Michael presses his hands flat against his lower back and keeps him pressed close as he grinds harder into him, pressing his forehead to Alex’s jaw as he moans low and hot.

Alex feels overwhelmed, and hot, and desperate, and his hands slide into Michael’s hair as he tugs him up for a kiss, wet and deep and sloppy.

Alex thinks maybe, they should stop.

But then Michael slides his hand, hot and damp into Alex’s pants, wrapping his fingers around the base of Alex’s cock, and Alex is lost.

**

When Alex blinks his eyes open, Michael is staring at him, with his bottom lip caught between his teeth looking somewhere between proud and guilty.

Alex thinks that maybe he left him a hickey or something, and he finds that he’s half right when he ducks into the bathroom and looks at himself in the mirror.

There are two glowing handprints right against either side of his neck, and then silver trails tracking everywhere Michael touched him yesterday with his hot, hot hands.

The thing that stops Alex short however is the fact that there is no evidence of his father’s hands on him.

When he walks back into the room, Michael is wearing a hole on the floor, and the guilt has overtaken his face.

“I’m sorry,” he blurts out.

“You don’t have to apologize,” Alex says and bites down on his lip when Michael’s gaze snaps to him. “I already knew you were an alien, remember?”

Michael swallows hard and takes a step closer to Alex, and only then when his shoulders drop and he finally seems to be more relaxed, does Alex feel the low pulse of heat right at the back of his head, spreading lower and pooling low in his belly as Michael stares at the marks he left on him.

“It doesn’t hurt,” Alex says, well, marvels really. No one has ever left a mark on him that hadn’t hurt.

“I’m glad,” Michael says voice low and rough. “Because I really like seeing you covered in my marks.”

And then he’s launching forward and pressing Alex back against the wall as he kisses him hard and fast.

Alex feels his hands heating up against his skin and thinks that he’ll happily bear the glowing marks as long as Michael is the one leaving them behind.

[monsters-demons-and-ai-oh-my]

What We Lost and What We Have

I decided to also post the fic on Tumblr since I’m desperate for feedback, and I’m really excited for this AU and I want to know if other people are too... because I really want to know if there’s an audience for it... (also on AO3)

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May 18, 2000, the night Sam learned 3 things.

John had cheated on Mary. Kelly Kline was dead. And his younger half brother Jack was born…

Nearly 17 years later their family never really recovered. But after a panicked phone call from Jack’s uncle Castiel, their family will never be the same.

“It’s Jack, there’s something wrong with Jack…”

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Next Chapter

Complete Tumblr Chapter Archive

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Chapter 1: Exes, siblings, and drunken mistakes

-

May 18, 2000

-

Sam had just turned 16 two weeks earlier.

Up until that point, the worst thing that had happened to him was being dumped at his sophomore winter formal and having his CD player stolen out of his locker by Bela, the opportunistic klepto of a foreign exchange student from Pre-Cal the same night.

They were celebrating Dean moving into his first solo apartment the night they got the call.

Sam had gone upstairs to get a head start on his summer reading list but he could hear the rest of his family laughing and talking over the game through his cracked bedroom door.

He'd barely even heard the phone ring and his mother getting up to answer it, only taking note after he heard the volume on the television being lowered dramatically.

"What'd you say Mary?" his dad asked, the smile still in his voice.

"I said, do you know a Castiel?" Mary repeated.

"Castiel? I don't think so, maybe someone from the shop, Dean?"

Dean must have shaken his head because he never heard a response.

"Well whoever he is he sounds really upset," Mary sounded concerned.

He couldn't make out what his mother asked the man on the phone but then…

"Castiel Kline?"

There was a deathly silence, curiosity got the better of Sam, he closed his book and went down the stairs. John had gone white as a sheet.

"He says you knew his sister…" Mary turned to look at John, eyebrows raised, "and he really needs to speak to you."

John had nearly snatched the phone from Mary in his haste apologizing profusely.

Sam had stayed hidden by the stairs his entire family looking on as John walked quickly to the kitchen.

Dean looked confused, Mary looked shell shocked. Neither moved.

But Sam did he tiptoed quietly to the kitchen door staying just outside it eavesdropping on one side of John's phone conversation."

"What do you mean she…? Calm down, I can't understand what you’re saying, slow down. What happened?"

John was pacing the room, running a hand through his hair panic in his tone and posture bent like everything teetered on the voice on the other end of the line.

"How can you be sure it's… he's… Kid, I didn't even know she was... I met her once... she never told me!"

Sam heard footsteps and jumped, his mom had finally unfrozen and moved towards the kitchen. She was shaking slightly, her mouth set tightly, eyes watering, he stepped guiltily out of her way.

"John… what's going on?"

The screaming started less than a minute later. Dean eventually pulling him away back toward the living room.

And that night Sam had learned 3 things.

John had cheated on Mary.

Kelly Kline was dead.

And his younger half brother had been born…

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-

April 21, 2007

-

Another night he'd never forget.

Dean had said John had gotten in a car accident when he called him at Stanford, a stupid little fender bender.

The other driver had come around to John’s driver side window pissed off ready to give John a piece of his mind only to find him slumped over, pronounced dead by paramedics on the scene five minutes later, an apparent heart attack behind the wheel.

"I know you don't give a shit about him anymore, but at least come to his fucking funeral."

The years had not been kind to the brother's relationship, but even Sam thought that was uncalled for. He wasn't going to leave Dean alone to deal with the aftermath.

He'd been in the middle of preparing for finals but he’d still come.

Dean hadn’t been big on lawyers ever since the bozo divorce lawyer who’d drawn up John and Mary’s papers had cheated them out of 6k.

He'd missed John’s service but not the burial. Listening to some preacher go on about what a great guy his dad was would only have brought up inappropriate angry thoughts. He knew Dean would be angry he didn’t show up, he would have been angrier if he’d laughed.

So he'd sat in his car until everyone started to leave. One or two great aunts and uncles he’d never met, guys who worked at the auto shop, sundry friends and neighbors. Mary had spotted him and came over knocking softly on the window and giving her son a silent hug before leaving.

When he finally got out there were only three people left.

Jack was six-years-old and tow-head then, - like he’d seen Dean in pictures at that age - hiding on the far side of Castiel, watching them nervously as he was led away from the graveside hand in hand with his uncle.

It had been a weekday so the boy had thankfully been with Castiel at the time of John's death.

His brother was standing at the graveside when Sam approached him, hands stuffed in his pockets swaying side to side. Like he was getting ready to fill in the hole himself if the gravediggers didn’t get there soon. Because it was something he could do with his hands and emotions, taking out his grief on the dirt.

It made Sam a little wary to approach him but he barely looked up and over when Sam came up beside him.

“Hey.”

“Hey.”

They’d stood there in silence Sam mentally stumbling over a thousand things to say in his head.

"Well, dad’s... dead.”

He imagined Dean was probably silently seething.

“Maybe I should have asked dad to die at a better time so it fit into your busy schedule.”

Emotions neither one was ready to confront kept them from moving.

“Same time next year?”

Dean had said it sarcastically, and looking back Sam wished they’d had a better story but that was how their little tradition began.

Outside of major holidays or birthdays, it was one of the few times they made an active effort to see each other. Sometimes catching up, other times just visiting the site. Rain or shine, just the two of them.

Until today.

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-

April 21st, 2017

-

“It’s almost fucking summer,” Dean muttered, his breath puffing in the early evening air. He rubbed his hands together before handing Sam an even colder beer. Sam huffed and took it, and making no comment about how that would do next to nothing to help, or about how it was a trashy brand he hadn’t seen since pre-law.

“If it makes you feel better the weather channel says it’s the coldest spring in over a decade..” Sam sipped his beer and grimaced, it reminded him why he’d never been much of party-er in college.

But as Dean once put it “our family were salt of the earth people,” and he wore that fact like an aesthetic badge, like hipsters and the wannabe actors in Cali. Sam grinned a little at the thought.

Dean poured out 79 cents worth of beer for John before cracking open another bottle to drink himself.

“Happy ten years dad,” Dean smiled humorlessly. “Still managed not to burn your shop to the ground…”

He’d been waiting when Sam got there standing and looking down in the exact same way he did ten years previously. Rocking back and forth, processing, contemplating. Sam searched Dean’s back for something to say. A navy canvas covered back.

“You got a new jacket…”

“Huh?” Dean sipped his beer like he hadn’t heard him.

“I’ve always seen you wear Dad’s old leather one,” Sam insisted.

It took a ridiculously long time for him to respond, like Dean had settled on an unspoken rule that he had to wait until Sam's breath completely dissipated into the cool morning air before he could reply.

“Yeah well, maybe it’s too cold today, like you said ‘coldest spring of the decade,’ ever think of that Sammy?”

“It’s just a cool front, it’ll be in the seventies by tomorrow Dean,” Sam said flatly.

Dean fell silent again for a long moment.

“It’s been ten years… it got old, I got a new one, do you need me to psychoanalyze your henley now?”

Sam rolled his eyes in defeat letting the subject drop with another swing of dishwater beer.

If Sam remembered one thing about growing up with his brother it was that Dean was a creature of habit. Dean had never been big on school but he’d insisted on using the same backpack all throughout middle and high school, and one look at the parking lot told Sam he still drove dad’s old Impala, he’d repaired both items multiple times. Dean didn’t get rid of things because “it got old.”

“ It’s been ten years… ”

Maybe it was time for a change.

Sam swallowed in the charged silence, “ change... ” he’d been putting off talking to Dean about that.

He’d done something on impulse. He’d been roped into going out for drinks with his fellow junior partners in his firm after winning a case. Sorting out some accounting error that got at least three people fired. He hated those cases, making sure that companies weren’t liable for random bullshit that meant nothing in the long run. They’d had three like that in the same month. So... after a few drinks… he’d gotten sentimental, started thinking about his life choices, thinking about all the things he hadn’t done yet, the things he regretted.

Sam really should have asked Brady to stash his phone before they got to the bar.

But the secret he’d been keeping reared it’s deceivingly unassuming head before he had a chance to open his mouth..

The silence was broken by a distant but harsh sounding cough.

Dean glanced over his shoulder posture immediately stiffening, eyebrows raising, “What the hell…”

Sam at least had the good grace to look guilty.

Castiel looked about the same as Sam remembered him save for a few lines on his face. The same constant vaguely worried look was made more prominent by whatever he was talking to Jack about.

Jack, on the other hand, had changed a lot. He’d maybe been eleven the last time Sam had seen him. Since then his hair had considerably darkened with age from blond to sandy brown and he’d shot up half a foot. There wasn’t much of John visible in Jack’s face and if his resemblance to his uncle was anything to go by the Kline genetics were strong in him.

He looked a little washed out, blowing his nose in a tissue as they approached, a small bouquet of yellow flowers in his free hand, looking up from his conversation with his uncle to give Sam a cautious smile. Sam looked quickly away.

“I was uh… meaning to talk to you about... this…” Sam looked sheepish.

“Oh you were going to talk to me,” Dean scoffed, “Sam what are Jack and and and… saint Castiel doing here!?”

“I invited them?” Sam scratched the back of his neck awkwardly.

Dean looked lost for words mouthing silently for a moment, "Okay Sam so explain this to me."

Sam huffed now he distinctly didn't want to answer him, "Dean could you just…"

"No no no please tell me," Dean seemed to puff up with indignation and betrayal, "what exactly possessed you to think that was in any possible way a good idea? because it's beyond me!"

“Six beers that did not taste like piss ,” he didn’t say.

"Is there a problem here?" Castiel and Jack had finally reached the grave. He kept himself a little in front of the teenager, protective. It was painfully familiar, even the look of nervous confusion on Jack's face.

"No, not all," Dean snorted, "I just thought… some things were sacred."

"He's dad's kid too, he has as much right to be here as we do!" Sam raised his voice done with his brother's verbal assault.

Said kid just coughed awkwardly.

Dean didn't even glance his way, "yeah sure, any other day he can have a goddamn picnic here if he wants, but not today… he's never come to-day…"

"I’m right here you know," Jack piped up annoyed.

"Dean, you're acting like a child," Sam was beginning to get pissed off. Dean was embarrassing him in front of people with one of his stupid hissy fits.

"Yeah well, maybe I am," Dean reached down to pick up what was left of the six pack, the remaining bottles rattling ominously.

"You see I thought… I thought maybe this meant something to you, that I still somehow knew you," Dean shrugged, "but you're right Sam, we're not kids anymore…"

And with that Dean left, returning the wary look he got from Castiel with a sarcastic smile.

Sam just sighed not following, instead turning his attention to Castiel and Jack.

Any of the anxious hope Jack’s face had held when they first walked up had gone, replaced with an unreadable expression.

Castiel looked shaken.

"I'm really sorry about him, he's just…" Sam trailed off he didn't have an honest excuse.

"No it's fine," Castiel sighed looking harassed, feathers ruffled so to speak by Dean's tirade.

"Maybe we shouldn't have come," he gave Jack a significant look that rubbed Sam the wrong way. He felt like he had to defend his brother.

"He's not usually like that it's just…" Sam trailed off feeling lost. He didn't even know why he was doing this, he'd invited them on a stupid drunken whim, and he barely spoke to Dean anymore. He was basically defending two strangers from one another. He didn’t feel like explaining his brother’s temper tantrum. He should have stayed in California at least there the people made sense.

“I’m sorry you drove all this way from…” Sam pulled up a blank.

“Indiana, Midway, Indiana,” Cas huffed, crossing his arms and looking colder than it was possible to actually be wearing at least three layers.

“Right,” Sam awkwardly swung his arms at his side, examining the freshly pruned grass for weeds.

He had cases he needed to get back to, they were barely two month’s out from a major merger and the firm had yet to finish writing out the paperwork. He spared a glance toward Jack.

Jack seemed to shrink into himself still half hidden behind his uncle’s coat, coughing quietly into his sleeve.

“You okay?” Sam tried.

“Hotel AC…” the kid muttered not looking him in the eye. “We um… we got in late last night, been hanging around there all day.” His free hand was tucked into his patterned jacket pocket, the one with the flowers tensed into a shaking fist, crinkling the plastic, biting his lip, like he was trying not to cry.

Sam felt bad for him, wanted to say something reassuring, but he knew if he looked over an inch he’d see Castiel, glaring at him like he’d just stabbed the kid.

“I um… I’m supposed to meet Mary at six…” Sam said lamely.

He heard no objections, "good to see you again," he sighed before walking away.

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Dean stared down into his glass, swirling the amber middle shelf spirit; he’d tossed the cheap beer in the fridge before going out in search of something stronger.

He didn’t want to be alone and sober in that house… not tonight.

He took a long swallow from the glass then knocked it back against the bar counter, “fuck you Sam.”

“You got a ride home tonight Dean-o?” a familiar voice prodded sounding amused.

“You offering Gabe,” Dean gave the bar owner a thin smile.

Gabe chuckled topping off his glass, “just asking, I’d hate to have to sick the big guy on you for your keys…”

Dean glanced over his shoulder spotting the glum musclebound bartender. He was scrubbing at a table in harsh rapid spirals, treating sticky beer and peanut bits with all the intensity of someone cleaning up blood from a murder they committed.

“Where’d you find that anyway,” Dean snorted taking another mouthful of whiskey, “haven’t seen him around before.”

“Gadreel is just one of my many, many, siblings,” Gabe leaning back against the bar and shrugging, looking pleased with himself - though that was likely just his resting face -.

Dean squinted, besides brown hair, he didn’t see the resemblance.

“Gadreel?” Dean huffed into his glass, “ I get Gabriel, there’s tons of Gabriel’s, but where do you get a name like Gadreel?”

Gabe pretended to busy himself scrubbing out a lowball glass surreptitiously, “Our Dad was a religious nut, and his name started with G so he decided all his kids should have G names too. Actually, now that I think about it…” he paused to examine his reflection in the glass, “he may have just been an overall nutbag”

Dean opened his mouth to say something snide, then remembering he was named after his grandmother he decided to mind his own damn business and went back to his drink.

“Mom would have killed me if I didn’t get little bro the job,” Gabe paused eyeing Dean like he wanted him to ask why.

Dean let him hang for a long minute draining the rest of his glass and wiping his mouth before asking.

“Yeah, why?”

“Gadreel used to be a security guard for some big designer store downtown,” Gabe poured a drink for himself in the glass he’d just cleaned coming around the counter with the bottle to join Dean, - the bar was emptying out for the evening - .

“He let the wrong person in, the store got robbed, and he copped accessory charges for shit he didn’t do, ended up doing a stint in prison for it, it’s hard to get a job after that.”

Dean snorted, that sounded about right. The world was like that. You thought you knew how things worked one minute and then one friendly gesture later it spit in your face.

And Dean was beginning to think Sam was one of the most worldly people he knew.

“So how's that going for you, working with your brother,” Dean snorted at the concept, imagining Sam working at the shop was like imagining hiring a dog as a bailiff for one of Sam’s courtrooms, a terrible yappy one with a penchant for biting you in the ass.

“It’s fine, he’s a little stiff, ee-mmedially kills the mood if anyone tries to ya’know actually talk to him, but one look from him is all it takes to keep a hot-headed drunk in line so,” Gabe shrugged, “all things considered it’s a good trade-off.”

“Hmm…” Dean gave an unconvinced huff of a laugh.

“You ever work with family Deano?”

You could never completely tell with Gabriel, whether the man was actually trying to be a friend or just trying to get his patrons to buy more drinks. Dean hadn’t been in the mood to talk when he’d arrived but after four whiskeys the sun was burning low on his inhibitions.

“My dad…” Dean threw Gabe a bone tapping his glass in his general direction, “we uh… we worked together at his auto shop from when I was sixteen until a few years ago.”

Gabe poured him another glass, “Last call… I knew you worked at an auto shop, didn’t know it was your dad’s…”

“Yeah… he left it to me when he passed, it’s not like Sam would even know what to do with it even if he actually wanted it.”

The bar owner had the good graces not to comment on his dad’s death.

“Sibling problems Dean?” but apparently not the good sense not to ask about his brother.

“My brother’s a lawyer out in California, kid works in some big corporate firm and yet can’t breathe without letting me know how much more righteous he is, how that works I’ll never fucking know.”

Gabe snorted, “I got an older brother like that, Michael, real piece of work.”

Dean’s eyebrows rose.

“He goes by his middle name, first name is actually Gary,” Gabe quickly explained.

Very biblical name Gary...

“Yeah, well one idiot brother is enough for me,” Dean muttered darkly.

Today had been about six steps to far, Sam had never been as close as Dean was with their dad even before the divorce and after… he barely spoke to John from the time he moved out of the house until John’s eventual death.

Still Dean thought that even if John meant nothing to the man anymore that maybe this… thing they did... that it was their thing, meeting and going to pay respects at John’s grave. That they could just go there and deal with whatever shit they had about what had happened and just not be alone.

But inviting a kid, THAT kid… clearly what Dean thought and what Sam thought was very different.

He had no idea what their yearly meeting meant to Sam, if anything, and that terrified him.

Dean sat not saying another word clutching his glass so hard he was afraid it would shatter. Gabe seemed to lose interest after a while getting up and moving away to chastise his own brother.

“Hey, man go easy on the tables you’re gonna wear thru the varnish…”

Dean quietly got up, peeling a wad of cash out of his billfold and laying it on the counter, he was done talking for tonight. He headed out of the bar weaving slightly to call a cab.

The house was just as dead quiet as when he left it, he flicked on the lights, it didn’t really help anything, just threw the closed doors of his parents and Sam’s empty rooms into sharp contrast as he stumbled up to bed.

It was two in the morning when his cell rang a few hours later, bringing his throbbing head back into the land of the living, he saw Sam’s name and shut it off annoyed going straight back to sleep.

Only minutes later, the landline rang.

Dean kicked off the covers swearing under his breath before stomping downstairs to snatch up the old yellowed relic, ready to unleash a tirade at Sam.

“Do you having any fucking clue what time it is!?”

“Dean?”

It wasn’t Sam but the voice was vaguely familiar, “who’s this?”

“It’s… Cas… Castiel…” the man sounded shaken, “Samuel gave me your number.”

Dean’s still half drunk brain was at a loss, there were strange unidentifiable sounds in the background. He stayed silent in bewilderment.

“I um… I’m at the hospital... It’s Jack,” his voice cracked.

“There’s something wrong with Jack…”

[blueboxesandtrafficcones]

Second Chance at Forever - Chapter 14

Chapter 14 of this year’s entry for the @dwsecretsanta, my present to @wordsintimeandspace!  Beta’d by the always-kind @stupidsatsuma​.  Thank you!

@doctorroseprompts​ and @timepetalscollective​ as an AU fic

General warnings for: alcohol use, cursing, discussions of sexual activities and mature situations.  No explicit love scenes.

Masterlist

AO3

Summary

Once upon a time, a boy and girl met at a bar and fell in love - until he ghosted her.

Five years later Rose Tyler’s best friend Mickey is getting married, and arranges a dinner for her to meet the groomsman she’ll be walking with - unaware that the two already know each other.

John Noble’s not sure how his friend and mentee managed to connive with the Universe to bring the One Who Got Away back into his life; all he knows it carefully built and maintained walls are crashing to the ground with no warning.

At first, John’s few functioning brain cells assumed the noise was his pulse beating in his ears.  He and Rose were tangled on the couch, her hand in his pants while his were occupied at her chest. They were kissing frantically, sloppily, too focused on the pleasure they were bringing their partner to concentrate properly.

Then he heard his name.  Not just the sexy way Rose was whispering it, but his sister’s obnoxious loudmouth calling for him.

Reluctantly tearing his mouth away from hers, he propped himself up slightly and strained to listen.

“No, shh, John,” Rose pleaded, and the way she said it meant he wasn’t imagining things.

“Please tell me my sister’s not outside our door.”

She pulled him back to her by his half-undone tie, mouth latching onto his adam’s apple.  “She’ll go away.  Don’t stop.”

The choice was taken away from him by the door slamming open, and they both moaned in regret.  With no time to hide what they’d been up to, John just shifted higher to cover Rose’s bare chest as Donna stalked in.

“Oh, you have got to be shitting me,” the redhead fumed as she came around the couch and found them lying together.  “I’ve been calling for an hour!”

“Go away,” John said firmly, knowing if she had gone to the effort of showing up something was seriously wrong but wanting to hold onto denial a few moments longer.  “We’re busy.”

“You have the rest of your lives to shag,” Donna was unsympathetically blunt.  “But I need Rose, now.”

“So do I,” he muttered before her words processed.  “Wait, what?”

Rose wriggled beneath him, achieving nothing more than torturing him.  “Donna, can you give us a minute?  Maybe wait in the kitchen?”

Standing above them with her arms crossed, lit by the moonlight coming from the floor-to-ceiling windows, Donna cut an imposing figure.  “I’ll be at the window.  Don’t you dare do anything but stand up and put yourself back together.”  She spun on her heel, walking the few yards to stare out at the city.

Glancing down at Rose, he held her eye for a moment before she pinched his side.  Sighing heavily he stood, offering Rose a hand up.  It didn’t take them long to make themselves presentable, though John winced as his zipper made a loud noise in the otherwise quiet room.

Once they were ready Rose turned on the light on the end table, bathing the room in a soft glow.  “Sorry, Donna.  What’s going on?”

Donna returned to them, and the two women sat gingerly.  Not quite ready to meet his sister’s eye and needing time to get himself under control, John busied himself in the kitchen preparing tea.  He couldn’t hear much of what was being said, but didn’t need to; he knew his sister, and it would have to be an absolute crisis at work to show up at Rose’s door unannounced at midnight.

Fetching Rose’s purse from where it had dropped by the door, he fished out her phone and plugged it into the charger on the counter.  Sure enough the screen showed more than a dozen missed texts and calls from Donna. Fixing each a cuppa to taste, he brought them back to the sitting area just as Rose buried her head in her hands.

“Here, love.”  He would be lying to say he wasn’t irritated at the interruption, but made a conscious effort to clear his expression before she looked up.  Whatever was wrong wasn’t her fault, or at least not deliberately with the intention of ruining their night.  She had been plenty understanding the few times he’d been called away for a medical emergency, not least of which being his month-long trip to Haiti; now it was his turn.

A relationship, a marriage, like the one they were building would only succeed with equality.  Support went both ways, and he would be damned before he gave her any reason to hesitate about his commitment.

“What’s going on?” he asked quietly, settling one palm on Rose’s back as she sank into his side, blowing gently on her tea.

“This morning Rose presented a new spread to our- her biggest client, and the meeting went well, they loved it,” Donna sighed, watching Rose with sympathy.  “But… the meeting was with the number two guy.  Apparently when he presented it to his boss, at ten o’clock tonight no less, she flipped her shit.  We’ll lose the account if it’s not redone to new specs by eight Friday morning.  It took more than an hour to negotiate them down to that, if you can believe.  The owner wanted it Monday morning, but Harriet – the owner of our firm convinced her that was unreasonable.  If they like what we come up with by Friday, they’ll pay for both sets of designs and stay clients; if Yvonne doesn’t, she won’t pay a penny and will pull her business.”

“And she’s an important client?” John gathered.

Rose moaned.  “Millions of pounds a year.  We’ve been working on this for months, it was perfect.  Witch.”

“What can I do to help?”

His girlfriend straightened up with a pout.  “Not much, I’m afraid.  I’m going to have to work pretty much straight through to get this done in time, even with the extra help Harriet’s promised me.”

“Then you’ll do that,” he said brusquely, already formulating and discarding half a dozen plans.  “I’ll handle everything else.  Take a shower, wash your face.  I’ll have some war supplies ready for you by the time you’re done.  Go, go.”

Rose stood, taking the time to lean down and kiss him.  “We really will have to wait for after the wedding now,” she whispered, but he just shook his head, pressing his lips to hers.

“Don’t worry about that.  Do what you need to.”  As soon as she disappeared down the hall he went into crisis mode, heading for the kitchen and pulling out canvas bags, his sister trailing behind.

“So, sorry for interrupting what I walked in on,” Donna mentioned, leaning against the countertop.

“Me too,” was all he said, focusing on his plan.  Grabbing down every insulated travel mug they had, he started filling them with tea before refilling the kettle for more.  Opening the snack cabinet, he pulled out everything relatively healthy and started throwing it in a bag.  “Can you...”  Gesturing towards the whistling kettle he didn’t wait for a response, heading for the bedroom.

Locating her overnight bag in the back of her closet, he efficiently packed two changes of clothes and comfortable shoes.  A quick raid of her gym bag produced on-the-go toiletries, which got tossed in as well. Returning to the kitchen with a detour to drop the bag by the door, he took over the tea-making, tightly closing the lid of the last travel mug by the time Rose reappeared in yoga pants and a tee, one it took him a moment to realize came from his own drawer unless she’d gone to Cambridge Med School without telling him.

“Right, I’ll head in and get started, Donna, go home and get some rest.  I’ll need you first thing,” she started, before stopping to stare at the now-cluttered counter.  “What’s all this?”

“Supplies,” John shrugged, crossing his arms as he leaned back against the counter.  Donna’s gaze was burning a hole in the side of his head, making him flush, but he refused to feel ashamed of showing how much he loved Rose.

She slowly shook her head, expression softening.  “I know you said… thank you, John.”

“Anything for you.  There’s also a bag by the door.”

Padding up to him, she tugged him down for a firm kiss, momentarily sucking at his bottom lip before releasing him.  “I love you.”

“Love you too.  You’re taking a cab, yeah?”

Rose nodded.  “I’ll text you, but probably won’t be home before tomorrow night.  Er, tonight, I guess,” she corrected herself, seeing the time. “Don’t forget to feed the cat.”

“I won’t.  Now, shoo.  The sooner you go the sooner you can come back.”

With one last kiss for her and a wave to his sister, the girls were gone in a whirlwind, leaving him alone in the kitchen.

Tardis came barreling in then, jumping up onto the counter and nosing around some of the food he’d left out.  John sighed, pushing her away and starting to restore the room to normalcy.

“Guess it’s you and me now, girl.”

The next day was Saturday, and he puttered around the flat for part of the morning before deciding to unpack some of the boxes sitting around.  Most of them were books, cds, and knickknacks, and he took his time arranging them just so.  Rose had cleared some space for his things, and he killed some time reorganizing for fun.

He spent the afternoon polishing the finals for his various classes, drawing up study guides and planning the last week of lessons.  By teatime he was bored and lonely, unable to remember how he’d survived on his own for so many years.  The cat was somewhat of a comfort, having a living creature there to talk to instead of thin air.

Rose appeared around nine, taking a shower and scarfing down a salad before collapsing into bed.  Despite the early hour he went with her at her request, holding her close in the dark as she slept.  When he woke at dawn she was already gone, and he trudged through most of the day in a grumpy mood.

When five rolled around and he didn’t hear from her he texted her himself.

How’s it going?

She responded almost instantly.  Ugh.  Ok, I guess, but UGH, with an angry person emoji attached for good measure.

Dinner?

Probably takeaway in a few hours.  Too busy.  Sorry.  This time, the tiny face was pouting.

Tapping the phone against his thigh as he debated, he ran his idea past Tardis.  “What do you think, girl?”

He took the meowing for a yes.

“Ugh, that’s not going to work,” Rose groaned, throwing her pen on the table in front of her and closing her eyes in frustration.  The office was empty on a Sunday evening except for them, so they’d taken over the main conference room to make use of the large whiteboards.  She was incredibly grateful to the ragtag team Harriet had scrambled together for her, but so far all they had to show was a lot of terrible ideas and a few with potential.  The idea was out there, just waiting to be had, but they were running on fumes at this point.  “Let’s… let’s take a break for a few minutes, order some dinner.  Yeah?”

There were five of them; Rose and Donna of course, and to her surprise Harriet as well.  Her boss and mentor had roped in one of the more junior girls, a lovely if too-perky woman named Mel, and an intern named Bill, who had lots of brilliant out-of-the-box ideas that would work for any other client, but not Yvonne.

“I don’t think that’ll be necessary,” Donna commented, staring behind her.  “Look.”

Rose looked over her shoulder, gasping when she realized her eyes weren’t playing tricks on her.  Jumping from her chair, she hurried to the door and threw it open to let John and two other men in.  She didn’t know who they were, but one carried pizza boxes and the other a bag of chips and pop, so she didn’t care.

“What’re you doing here?” she asked in delight, throwing her arms around John.  He hugged her back, the bags he carried thumping against her spine but she didn’t care, too happy to see him.

“I brought reinforcements and some temporary help, hope that’s all right.”

Mindful of the glass walls of the conference room she didn’t snog the daylights out of him like she wanted to, merely squeezed tighter.  “Thank you.”

Taking one of the bags from him they walked in together to find one of the two men already regaling the women with a lively story.

“Jack,” John said in a warning tone, and the man turned with a smile.  He was handsome, tall and broad shoulders, and if she didn’t have John he would’ve been just her type.

“What?  Trying to lighten the mood!”

“That’s what the food is for.”  The other man was dressed in a three-piece suit, and said it with such a resigned, fond air that said maybe Rose wasn’t Jack’s type after all.  “You all look like you need a break, come eat.”

“Thanks, Yan.”  Donna was first to the food, the other three exchanging bewildered looks as they followed her.

“Yes, thank you…” Harriet trailed off expectantly, raising an eyebrow at Rose as she put some salad on a paper plate.

“Oh!  Of course.  Um, Harriet, this is my boyfriend John, and… I honestly have no idea.”

Donna snorted.  “Pretty boy is Jack, he’s a friend of ours, and this is Ianto.  Hopefully here to be our barista?” she smiled sweetly, fluttering her eyelashes up at Ianto and making him laugh.

“Certainly.”

Everyone filled a plate, relaxing at the conference table to eat and chat.  Settling down with John next to her, Rose grinned to see her team come alive again.  Using her left hand to eat, she laid her right on his thigh under the table, squeezing in thanks.  Glancing at her he grinned, taking her hand with his as they ate.

After an hour Jack cleared his throat, smiling as the laughter from his last story died down.  “Now, I believe we’ve taken up enough of your time and recharged your batteries.  We can go if you’d like to get back to work.”

Donna bolted upright, eyes going wide.  “Jack!”

“Donna!”

“I’m an idiot!” she gushed.  “You used to work for Yvonne Hartman, didn’t you?”

Jack and Ianto exchanged glances.  “We both did, why?”

Rose followed Donna’s train of thought.  “Oh, perfect!  We can’t confirm or deny if she’s a client of ours, but would you mind if we bounced some ideas off you that she might like?”

Jack’s eyebrow raised, but he nodded.  “Absolutely.  What’s going on?”

The week passed slowly, Rose spending the majority of her time at the office and coming home only to sleep.  John took the opportunity to greatly extend his office hours, and was pleased that most of his students stopped by at least once.

When he would finally pack up he’d call for takeaway, stopping by Rose’s office so she could take a break and they could eat together.  The team had been good for brainstorming, but Rose was handling most of the work to keep consistency.  He would fill their dinner hour with teaching anecdotes and stories from his travels, doing his best to keep Rose laughing and at ease.

Once she’d get back to work he would pull out his laptop, sometimes taking up her couch or working at Donna’s desk if she needed the room to herself.  He had plenty of his own work to keep busy with, and the hours would pass quickly until she was ready to call it a night.

When her alarm went off at five on Friday morning, he wrapped his arm around her waist to keep her against him.

“Jo-ohn, I’ve gotta go,” she whined, nonetheless happily rolling into his chest and burrowing down.

“In a minute,” he promised, “just need a morning cuddle.  And to talk to you.”

“Mhmm?”

“Can you come home after your presentation?”

Rose tensed in his arms for a minute, before sighing.  “Depends on what Yvonne decides.”

“You’ve had a long week, and you need a break,” he said firmly.  “The rehearsal’s tonight, the wedding tomorrow, and you should decompress first.  Even if it’s to come home and nap.”

“Is that your suggestion as a doctor?” she teased, pressing a kiss to his bare chest.

“Yep.”  He patted her bum before releasing her.  “Think about it, I’ll be here all day unless a crisis comes up.”

Rose rolled out of bed, stretching her arms above her head before moving towards the shower.  “I’ll text you one way or another.”

Watching her bum sway as she moved, he wished the wedding would be over soon so he could finally follow her in.

Two more days.

John looked up from the textbook he was reading, brow furrowed.  Music was coming from the hall, but before he could go see what it was, the song coalesced into We Are the Champions, and he stood grinning as Rose burst into the flat.

“-keep on fighting, til the end!”  Kicking off her heels and dropping her purse at the door, she sprinted towards him and leapt into his arms, laughing.

“I take it the presentation went well?” he rumbled, holding her tighter as she sprinkled kisses over his face.

“It went perfectly,” she gushed, wrapping her legs around his waist.  “She loved it!  She’s still a bitch for making us redo it all at the last minute, but honestly this was even better than the original and she’s going to keep us and I got a raise and I love you so much!”

John laughed, returning to the couch and settling down with her in his lap.  “That’s amazing, love.  Congratulations.”

“Mhmm.”  She kissed him leisurely.  “And I know I’ve already got next week off but Harriet’s going to give it to me without using my time, so I am all. yours.”

“You weren’t already?”

“Oh, shut up.”  Rose was smiling too hard for him to take her seriously though.  “All we need to do is get through tonight and tomorrow, then we are off to Bermuda for a week.”

John hummed.  “Sand, sun…”

“Sex,” she corrected sternly.  “Play your cards right, and I’ll let you out of bed to eat.  Maybe.”

“Sounds perfect.”

They snogged, hands roaming and clutching long enough to be breathing hard when they finally pulled away.  “What do you say we head to the hotel early?”

John smiled and pointed at the bags waiting by the door.  “Say the word, my love.”

They were able to check in when they got there, and Rose threw herself onto the bed with a laugh, pleased when she bounced.  “We’ve got four hours before we’re supposed to meet, whatever shall we do?” she teased, giving him her best ‘come hither’ look.

John joined her on the bed, stretching out next to her with an amused smile.  “You were asleep in the taxi, love,” he said gently, putting his hand on her hip.  “I think a nap’s in order.”

She pouted, sticking out her lower lip.  “Haven’t we waited long enough?”

He groaned, leaning forward to capture it between his own.  “Temptress. A little longer won’t kill us. Let’s get through the rehearsal dinner, yeah?  Then see what happens tonight.”

“Mhkay.”  Cradling the back of his head with her hand, she pulled him with her as she lay down.  “Kiss me to sleep?”

The last thing she remembered was his tongue in her mouth and hand on her bum.

They walked into the ballroom arm in arm, stopping just inside the doors as Rose gasped.  “This is beautiful!”  Nearly all the decorations were up except the flowers, which were due for delivery the following morning.

The wide aisle was marked with three sets of three-foot high pillars, waiting for vases of white roses.  Candles lined the space between the pillars; for safety reasons they were battery-operated candles, but Rose suspected the visual would be no less stunning because of that.  At the end of the aisle stood a dais with a frame, sheer white drapes drawn back and secured with ribbons.

They were still early despite being the last ones there, and her brother was the first to notice them.

“Rosie!” he shrieked from the front row, racing down the aisle to fling himself at her.  “You’re here!”

“Of course I’m here, silly, I’m in the wedding too,” she teased, swinging him up into her arms as they moved towards the rest of the group.  “You remember John.”

“Hi.”  Tony waved with a grin.

John smiled.  “How’s it going?”

“Good!  My Rosie’s here now.”  The boy nodded seriously, and Rose coughed to hide a laugh as John winked at her.

“I know exactly how you feel, mate.”

The rehearsal seemed to take forever, though Rose didn’t know if that was because of the wait for dinner or the expectation of what might happen with John when they were finally alone again.

They spent most of the practice sharing smiles, making it difficult to concentrate on anything else.  Being the lowest ranking members of the wedding party worked in their favor; they walked first, stood at the end of their respective lines, and had zero responsibilities during the ceremony itself.  A few times Rose caught glares from her mother, but she ignored them in favor of making faces at John in a bid to get him to laugh.

When the rehearsal was finally over and it was time for the dinner, they held tightly to each other as they followed the group to the hotel’s restaurant.  They were in a private room, still a rather intimate group at fourteen around a single, long table.

Once they ordered came the toasts.  As the hosts of the dinner, Rose’s father stood and said a few kind words about Mickey, and by some miracle managed to keep her mother from speaking as well.

Mickey’s toast was funny and poignant, and Rose leaned into John’s side as she blotted away tears while they raised their glasses.

“All right?” he murmured, wrapping an arm around her back and pulling her closer.

She nodded, smiling up at him.  “I’m just so damn happy for him.  He deserves the world, and I think Martha’s the answer to that.”

“Agreed.”

The dinner went quickly, jokes and personal stories flying from every corner.  Rose spoke about when she and Mickey were children, while John shared stories from trips he and Martha had taken with Doctors Overseas, highlighting her bravery and calmness under pressure.

Due to the early morning the group split not long after dessert, though by mutual agreement John and Rose headed for the hotel bar instead.  Settling together at a table near the edge of the dance floor, they ordered wine.

“To the happy couple,” John toasted, holding up his glass.

“May they have a long and happy life together,” she added, clinking their glasses before sipping.  “I still find it a little hard to believe, Mickey getting married.  I think I half expected him to be a perennial bachelor.”

“That’s what Donna’s always said about me,” he snorted, leaning closer.  “Look at us.”

“Mhmm.”  Rose slid her chair a little closer, tangling her legs with his under the table.  “Not planning on permanent bachelor-hood, then?”

“I think I found an acceptable alternative.”  His palm was warm on her knee, thumb rubbing back and forth at the inner crease of the joint and making warmth pool low in her gut that had nothing to do with the alcohol.

“Is that so?” she murmured, and they met in the middle for a chaste kiss.  When they pulled apart a band was setting up on the small stage, a singer dressed in forties garb talking to the bartender.  “Looks like there’s about to be music.”

John merely took her hand, waiting until the singer introduced herself and the first strands of music began to play to say, “May I have this dance?”

“Of course.”  Rose let him pull her to her feet, stepping into his arms just as she recognized the song, smiling.  “At last,” she sang softly in his ear as they swayed, “my love has come along.”

“My lonely days are over,” he took it up, “and life is like a song.”

Rose let herself sink deeper in his arms until they were pressed tightly together, barely moving to the music.  The song felt like the sign she hadn’t known she’d been waiting for, but nothing had ever felt more right than this moment.

She loved this man with all her heart, trusted him without hesitation.  He’d long since proved himself to her, shown the true depth of character she’d seen hints of the first time they were together.  Her doubts were gone, having evaporated months ago, and any last stubborn spots were wiped clean by how he’d handled the previous week.  Never pressuring her in any way, never suggesting she do anything other than what she needed with the exception of getting more sleep, he took care of her, being there when she needed him and waiting patiently in the wings if she didn’t.

This was it; this was their moment.

At last.

As the final strains of the song faded out, she went up on tiptoe to whisper in his ear.  “John?”

“Yes love?”

“Take me to bed.”

[hamonsurveysoverdrive]

Worthy

1 - When you wake up, do you get up straight away or do you lie around in bed for a while? Depends on if I have something to do or not. 2 - Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? I think it was Kelsi? Yes. 3 - How many times a week do you go out for food or drink? Like, once or twice. 4 - Do you prefer getting takeaway or actually sitting in a restaurant and eating your meal there? Takeaway. 5 - Where’s your favourite place to get takeaway coffee (or whatever your drink of choice is)? If I get coffee out and about, it's usually Starbucks. Otherwise, I make it at home. 6 - Do you tend to keep your phone on silent, vibrate or loud? Vibrate. 7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them annoyed you? What happened? Idk. 8 - When was the last time you went into a bookshop? Maybe a month ago. 9 - What was the last thing you ordered off Amazon? A baseball hat for my dad. 10 - When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? This morning, it's my dog. 11 - What jewelry do you have on at the moment? Just my nose ring and a small silver necklace. 12 - Do you have any products in your hair right now? What are they? No. 13 - Have you ever used a VPN to access foreign content online? Nope. 14 - Who was the last artist you listened to? Is this someone you’re a fan of? I have no idea. 15 - What was the last thing you had to drink? Monster. 16 - When was the last time you cooked something for the first time? Did it work out the way it was supposed to? I made some mustard maple pork chops the other day. The flavor was good, but the meat wasn't cooked how it was originally supposed to be because Drew grabbed the wrong sized pork chops, so I wasn't able to sear them in a pan first. 17 - Black cats are considered to be bad luck - is this a superstition that you’ve ever believed in? No. 18 - Would you ever eat blue cheese or do you find the idea of eating mould to be pretty repulsive? I've tried it, I'm not really a fan. 19 - Do you visit the dentist every six months like you should? No. 20 - How old were you when you first used the internet? Was it dial-up or did you have access to proper broadband? Like, 9 years old and it was definitely dial up. 21 - Are you old enough to remember using floppy discs? Yes. 22 - When was the last time you purchased an actual DVD or CD? I bought some DVDs for the kids for Christmas. 23 - Do you shave? Which body parts and how often? I shave my legs, private area, and armpits. Depends on my mood. 24 - What’s your favourite season, and what are some of your favourite things about that season? Summer. There's more stuff to do, longer days, pools are open, and 4th of July is my favorite holiday. 25 - When was the last time you burned yourself? Dunno. 26 - Have you ever been the victim of a theft or robbery? What was stolen? Did the police ever catch the person who did it? Someone stole my kids' Xbox out of the back of my car once, and I never contacted the police. 27 - What was the last TV show you discovered that you really liked? What was it that got you to watch it in the first place? Schitt's Creek. Everyone talking about how amazing it is. 28 - Have you seen any of the live-action Disney remakes? Which one is your favourite? What about your least favourite? Yes. My favorite is The Jungle Book, my least favorite is probably Cinderella. There's just 10 million Cinderella movies, and it didn't stand up to any of the other live action Cinderellas honestly. Including the Hilary Duff one lol 29 - Do you have any exciting plans for tomorrow? If not, how are you planning to spend your day? No, but my kids are finally going back to school lol. 30 - Would you ever keep a working dog as a pet? Do you think it’s fair to keep dogs like huskies in flats when it’s so different to their natural environments? What is a working dog??

[eldritchsurveys]

1114.

1 - When you wake up, do you get up straight away or do you lie around in bed for a while? >> I usually wake up at around 6.30 and the latest I’ll Officially(tm) get up is around 9. It depends on how caught up I get in reading and looking at TikToks.

2 - Who was the last person you video-called with? Have you done this more often since COVID hit? >> I don’t video-chat. Intro to Judaism is restarting in the new year and it’s going to be on Zoom, of course, and at first I was just like “yeah, sign me up!” because I missed going to classes but I immediately regretted it because I hate video-chatting so much. I still don’t know what to do. :/

3 - How many times a week do you go out for food or drink? >> Well, zero, now.

4 - Do you prefer getting takeaway or actually sitting in a restaurant and eating your meal there? >> I like eating on-site sometimes because it adds variety and visual interest to my (normally home-centric) life. But I also like eating takeaway sometimes, because it’s nice to eat in my own comfortable environment. It just depends on how I feel. ...And, you know, what the public health status is.

5 - Where’s your favourite place to get takeaway coffee (or whatever your drink of choice is)? >> There’s a little cafe in Bridge Street Market that is now my favourite place to get hot beverages. Everything I’ve had there has been excellent.

6 - Do you tend to keep your phone on silent, vibrate or loud? >> Vibrate. DND at night.

7 - If you have pets, when was the last time one of them annoyed you? What happened? >> Sparrow’s pet lowkey annoys me all the time, just because I don’t find a lot of cat behaviours as charming as most people do. It’s something I’ve learned to live with.

8 - When was the last time you went into a bookshop? >> Early December, to get Braiding Sweetgrass.

9 - What was the last thing you ordered off Amazon? >> I don’t remember the last time I ordered something off Amazon. I’d like to keep it that way for as long as I can.

10 - When was the last time you took a dog out for a walk? Is this your own dog or did you borrow someone else’s? >> ---

11 - What jewellery do you have on at the moment? >> Just the jewelry in my piercings, as usual. I forgot to put my bracelets on :x

12 - Do you have any products in your hair right now? What are they? >> No.

13 - Have you ever used a VPN to access foreign content online? >> No.

14 - Who was the last artist you listened to? Is this someone you’re a fan of? >> I don’t remember, but it was definitely someone I’m a fan of because it would have been from my Spotify playlist.

15 - What was the last thing you had to drink? >> Water.

16 - When was the last time you cooked something for the first time? Did it work out the way it was supposed to? >> I don’t remember.

17 - Black cats are considered to be bad luck - is this a superstition that you’ve ever believed in? >> No. I literally live with a black cat, lol.

18 - Would you ever eat blue cheese or do you find the idea of eating mould to be pretty repulsive? >> I’ve eaten blue cheese before and I’m not repulsed by it. I don’t normally eat it just because I don’t care for the flavour.

19 - Do you visit the dentist every six months like you should? >> I don’t know if I’m ever going to do that. Maybe once a year. Maybe. But I can’t see myself going to the dentist that often, I hate it there too much.

20 - How old were you when you first used the internet? Was it dial-up or did you have access to proper broadband? >> I was in single-digit ages, I think. 10 at the oldest. It was off an AOL disc.

21 - Are you old enough to remember using floppy discs? >> Yes.

22 - When was the last time you purchased an actual DVD or CD? >> I don’t remember.

23 - Do you shave? Which body parts and how often? >> I trim some body hair, and I buzz my head. Every other month or so for the body stuff, every couple of weeks for my head.

24 - What’s your favourite season, and what are some of your favourite things about that season? >> Spring. I just love watching the earth come to life again, that’s really the bottom line. It’s very rejuvenating. Also, nothing beats that first day I can open all the windows to let in some mild, sunny air.

25 - When was the last time you burned yourself? >> I don’t remember.

26 - Have you ever been the victim of a theft or robbery? What was stolen? Did the police ever catch the person who did it? >> I was mugged for a really shitty iPod Touch once. The irony of being mugged by people who probably had actual money and homes while I was literally walking back to the city shelter at the time was not lost on me. (And no, I did not report this to the police. Or anyone, except to mention it in casual settings like this one. What the fuck for?)

27 - What was the last TV show you discovered that you really liked? What was it that got you to watch it in the first place? >> Fruits Basket. I mean, I’ve known about its existence for a long time, I just finally decided to check it out.

28 - Have you seen any of the live-action Disney remakes? Which one is your favourite? What about your least favourite? >> No.

29 - Do you have any exciting plans for tomorrow? If not, how are you planning to spend your day? >> No. Sparrow is off all week so I’m mostly hoping I don’t lose my mind too much, is all.

30 - Would you ever keep a working dog as a pet? Do you think it’s fair to keep dogs like huskies in flats when it’s so different to their natural environments? >> Probably not. I want to be conscientious of things like that if I ever do get a dog. (I don’t know if it’s fair or not, I don’t know enough about huskies to say. I would like to do research about that sort of thing before making a commitment, in which case I’d then find out if it was fair or not.)

[rbonthedaily]

TWITCHING WITH TWIGHT

What's your problem? I think I know. You see it in the mirror every morning: temptation and doubt hip to hip inside your head. You know it's not supposed to be like this. But you drank the Kool-Aid and dressed yourself up in someone else's life. 

You're haunted because you remember having something more. With each drag of the razor you ask yourself why you piss your blood into another man's cup. Working at the job he offered, your future is between his thumb and forefinger. And the necessary accessories, the proclamations of success you thought gave you stability provide your boss security. Your debt encourages acquiescence, the heavy mortgage makes you polite.

Aren't you sick of being tempted by an alternative lifestyle, but bound by chains of your own choosing? Of the gnawing doubt that the college graduate, path of least resistance is the right way for you - for ever? Each weekend you prepare for the two weeks each summer when you wake up each day and really ride, or climb; the only imperative being to go to bed tired. When booming thermals shoot you full of juice and your Vario shrieks 7m/sec, you wonder if the lines will pop. The risk pares away life's trivia. Up there, sucking down the thin cumulus, the earth looks small, the boss even smaller, and you wish it could go on forever. But a wish is all it will ever be. 

Because the ground is hard. Monday morning is harsh. You wear the hangover of your weekend rush under a strict and proper suit and tie. You listen to NPR because it's inoffensive, PFC: Politically Fucking Correct. Where's the counter-cultural righteousness that had you flirting with Bad Religion and the vintage Pistols tape over the weekend? On Monday you eat frozen food and live the homogenized city experience. But Sunday you thought about cutting your hair very short. You wanted a little more volume and wondered how out of place you looked in the Sub Pop Music Store. Flipping through the import section, you didn't recognize any of the bands.

KMFDM?

It stands for Kill Mother Fucking Depeche Mode. Didn't you know? How could you not?

Tuesday you look at the face in the mirror again. It stares back, accusing. How can you get by on that one weekly dose? How can you be satisfied by the artifice of these experiences? Why should your words mean anything? They aren't learned by heart and written in blood. If you cannot grasp the consciousness-altering experience that real mastery of these disciplines proposes, of what value is your participation? The truth is pointless when it is shallow. Do you have the courage to live with the integrity that stabs deep? 

Use the mirror to cut to the heart of things and uncover your true self. Use the razor to cut away what you don't need. The life you want to live has no recipe. Following the recipe got you here in the first place:

Mix one high school diploma with an undergrad degree and a college sweetheart. With a whisk (or a whip) blend two cars, a poorly built house in a cul de sac, and fifty hours a week working for a board that doesn't give a shit about you. Reproduce once. Then again. Place all ingredients in a rut, or a grave. One is a bit longer than the other. Bake thoroughly until the resulting life is set. Rigid. With no way out. Serve and enjoy.

"You see your face reflected there in a sweating brow, you hate what you see, but what can be done when there's no way out, no way out?" The Chameleons, "Intrigue in Tangiers"

But there is a way out. Live the lifestyle instead of paying lip service to the lifestyle. Live with commitment. With emotional content. Live whatever life you choose honestly. Give up this renaissance man, dilettante bullshit of doing a lot of different things (and none of them very well by real standards). Get to the guts of one thing; accept, without reservation or rationalization, the responsibility of making a choice. When you live honestly, you can not separate your mind from your body, or your thoughts from your actions.

"If you really want to hurt them and their children not yet born tell them the truth always". Henry Rollins, from the book See a Grown Man Cry 

Tell the truth. First, to yourself. Say it until it hurts. Learn the reality of your own selfishness. Quit living for other people at the expense of your own self, you're not really alive. You live in the land of denial - and they say the view is pretty as long as you remain asleep. 

Well it's time to WAKE THE FUCK UP! 

So do it. Wake up. When you drink the coffee tomorrow, take it black and notice it. Feel the caffeine surge through you. Don't take it for granted. Use it for something. Burn the Grisham books. Sell the bad CDs. Mariah Carey, Dave Mathews and N Sync aren't part of the soundtrack where you're going. 

Cut your hair. Don't worry about the gray. If you're good at what you do, no one cares what you look like. Go to the weight room. Learn the difference between actually working out and what you've been doing. Live for the Iron and the fresh air. Punish your body to perfect your soul. Kick the habit of being nice to everyone you meet. Do they deserve it? Say "no" more often. 

Quit posturing at the weekly parties. Your high pulse rate, your 5.12s and quick time on the Slickrock Trail don't mean shit to anybody else. These numbers are the measuring sticks of your own progress; show, don't tell. Don't react to the itch with a scratch. Instead, learn it. Honor the necessity of both the itch and the scratch. 

But a haircut and a new soundtrack do not a modern man make. As long as you have a safety net you act without commitment. You'll go back to your old habits once you meet a little resistance. You need the samurai's desperateness and his insanity. 

Burn the bridge. Nuke the foundation. Back yourself up against a wall. Have an opinion one way or the other, get off the fence and rip it up. Cut yourself off so there is no going back. Once you're committed the truth will come out. 

You ask about security? What you need is uncertainty. What you need is confusion; something that forces you to reinvent yourself, a whip to drive you harder. 

"I never try anything - I just do it. Want to try me?" White Zombie, sample from "Thunder Kiss"

In Dune, Frank Herbert called it "the attitude of the knife," cut off what's incomplete and say "now it has finished, for it has ended there." 

So finish it, and walk away, forward. Only acts undertaken with commitment have meaning. Only your best effort matters. Life is a Meritocracy, with death as the auditor. Inconsistency, incompetence and lies are all cut short by that final word. Death will change you if you can't change yourself. "If I can change one, then I can change two. If I can change two, then I can change four. If I can change four, then I can change eight. If I can change eight, then I can change." One Minute Silence, "If I Can Change"

[dejametemostrar-blog]

These Chords Saved My Cheeks

(BlackBoxGuild e.g.)

    By CJ Stokes

     I’ve cried over three topics in my life: sports, death, and due to one or two special women crying; but all tears stopped due to music. 

     I lie; I’ve also cried during an a** whooping from my mother.  Music did not stop those tears but it did allow me to feel tranquil before her wrath.

     My first encounter with music’s power: Allegedly, I had done something wrong yet again in school.  See, my mother had prepared me all too well for elementary school.  From birth she wanted me to be advanced. 

     She even gave me a non-cultural, (possibly white-washed), name like Christopher Jared so my job application wouldn’t be skipped by hiring managers. 

     She placed me in a rather advanced private school in Charleston, SC which, I admit, placed much of my academic skills above most of the average South Carolina, (one of the worst education systems in the states), classroom competition.  As a result, the only child would grow bored and cause a little ruckus for the wise mouth elementary teachers he encountered. 

     Mind you, these classrooms were by far some of the comfiest I’ve ever come across.  Filled with carpet, (perfect sleep texture), and some dialogue that I’ve heard all before.  They even had the wooden desk with the cubby opening.

    I had everyone in there.  All the class clowns and even the girl whose race I couldn’t determine but her tone was sun kissed yet her hair stayed bronze.  She was beyond a crush.  I was considering marriage.

     I analyzed the wispy, white and gray hair of this middle-aged lady for the last time before I decided to entertain myself amongst a full classroom.  Additionally, who the hell wants to listen to English at 2:30 when they just left a football sized field with swing sets and no clouds?  The sun was beginning to crawl down and so would my eyes if I didn’t do something to entertain myself.  To add fuel to the fire my compadres thought I was extra humorous this day.  Whatever I did in the chair, from pretending/not pretending to sleep or fake singing songs, seemed to start a giggle trend and you know you laugh ten times as hard when you’re not supposed to be laughing.  The things that make second graders laugh.  I was full of adrenaline.  With all this motivation to spread laughter, you guessed it, I decided to cartwheel my way over to the pencil sharpener. 

     Before I could even complete 180 degrees of my wheel, I heard the sounds of pure joy.  Although some were laughing so hard that they were coughing, I knew this vibrant reaction was too loud to ignore. 

     My crush was laughing so hard that she had to cover her mouth and catch her breath, but my teacher was so displeased that she nearly gripped and ripped me out of my wheel.  Of course, I was a little tike at the time but this usually gingerly old woman couldn’t have been any taller than me and I felt a lot of muscle.  I felt like an ant under a hot magnifying glass as she stared me down through her glasses.

    Of course, I was placed in the principal’s office.  My friends giggles and the ���oooouuu’s” of I’m in trouble faded like a passing car siren as she hauled me down the hallway.  Plus, this wasn’t my first encounter with the principal; we were well acquainted by now.  My mind was already elsewhere.

    Once they finally let me out of that office, I peddled my way home faster than ever. Faster than when that pit bull chased me off of his premises and faster than when I thought this stocky old man was staring at me.  I knew my mother would be home early today and she was bringing hell with her.  I felt and heard nothing but wind not even the spin of my bike chain.  I couldn’t even admire my tree lined route home like I usually do.

    I locked myself inside my aqua painted room all the way in the back of the house, even though no one was home yet.  I opened the blinds since the sun gave me some joy and hope that I wiggle my way out this a** whooping but I knew the inevitable was coming.  I had a widescreen flat screen Polaroid on top of my wooden dresser but I was too anxious to focus on any TV.

    On the opposite side of that dresser and my bed I had a series of three shelves hammered in by my mother and on that second shelf lay a radio also bought by mother. For some reason, I believed some reason would help me think of how to respond to the 100 questions my mother would ask me of why I decided to Cirque de Soleil my way to the pencil sharpener.

    At that time, some reggae was the most therapeutic genre I could think of and given the fact that my father had been burning CD’s of all the classics that I should listen to, I stumbled across some Bob Marley.  Three Little Birds was the first track and I didn’t leave that intro song for the next 2 hours and some change until she got home.

    There wasn’t a bird in sight but I could imagine three of them just through Bob’s voice and these wailer guitars.  

    I was pacing in my room before that song came on and after the third replay I was able to at least lie on my back on the carpet.  As I stated before, Bob didn’t save me from an a** whooping but it’s the first time that I felt like everyone would really be alright afterwards.  

    My second encounter with music’s power is far more brief.  My sun kissed crush didn’t last long.  I ended up repeating something I heard in Lil Wayne’s Lollipop to her and that was the first and last time I repeated that.  She told one of the teachers and it all went downhill from there.  I didn’t know what I was really saying.

    I believe that was my next a** whooping as well.  

    So, I found a new crush; about two years later another tan one, golden, chubby cheeks but with light brown eyes and curly light brown hair. Drew, and she had huge eyes that couldn’t even hide behind the glasses.

    This crush was different though.  I wasn’t just attracted to her.  I could talk to her for hours.  We walked each other home everyday.  I even used to practice riding this stupid skateboard every weekend just to impress her. I still remember the name of the little pug she had, “D.O.G.”, (pronounced deo-gee).  Though I thought I found my wife in second grade this was surely her, I’d just take my time with her.

    Our neighborhood was just two big cul-de-sacs, one inside of the other, and her house was just one cut through a neighbor’s yard away.

    She found me so funny.  Her laugh would make me laugh and she knew all of the music that I knew and more, which was the seal on the deal for me.

    Finally, the day came that I could no longer hold in my true feelings for this young lady and fresh out of my last class I decided to pop the question on our traditional walk home.  However, I was a little more mature this time around so no thoughts of marriage would be included even though they were in my head.  I left my bike on purpose and pulled out my new white polo shirt to match my Nike Air Force 1’s.  

    It was a little cloudier today so I should have known something was off.  There was even a contrast in how we were dressed.  Her jeans were dark grey.  I had on khaki’s and her shirt was black.  I should have predicted a response just as lifeless.  

    I waited that whole walk to ask; partly due to our friends deciding to walk with us yet again and partly waiting for our convo about this celebrity drama to end.  

    “Alright, CJ, I’ll see you tomorrow”.  No invitation, I should have caught the hint there.  It kind of seemed like she was tired from school too but I couldn’t resist any longer.  I had to know.  

    “Hey Drew, I gotta ask you a question”.  She turned around before heading up the step with the same look her dog usually has.  Eyebrows raised with the confusion.  The clouds masked the Carolina heat that day but my palms might as well have been dipped in a pool and thank God I didn’t have on a dark colored shirt.  

    A slightly shaky “Do you like me?” sputtered out and of course I had to clarify. “As a friend?” she puzzled.  “No, like, like-like.”  She chuckled in the most nervous, flattered, and disappointing way. “I don’t think so C.J., I like you so much as a friend and I don’t want to ruin that.”

    Is it sad to say that I was so poisoned with puppy love that I kind of believed her? This is the dreaded curse that Pops warned me about.  Of course, I played it off cool as a cucumber as she asked if that’s okay?  I chuckled too, you know to try and relax the tension and said “Nah, of course.  It’s cool. I’ll see you tomorrow.”

    I took the nice steady walk home to my mother whose presence was more comforting than ever. Though I will admit, I walked a little quickly from Drew’s house just in case she was watching and waiting for me to leave from the window.  

    I kicked my Nike’s off one foot at a time so hard that I almost scuffed my toe box against our hard wood floor.  My kicks were worthless now.  My mother was in her home office and I laid flat on my stomach on the floor next to her with my arms folded under my neck.  She couldn’t get what happened out of me for hours though she knew what the subject was during my smirk after her “Some girl, ain’t it?” question.  

   “It’ll be alright, buddy”.   “What’s her name, I’ll fight you know?”  She knew it would make me laugh but I knew I didn’t feel like laughing right now so I went just corner piece of sheet rock away into my room where I laid on the floor with the door shut once again.  

   I don’t know if it was my music teacher’s love for this song that made me play it or all those hours I spent playing Madden while hearing this song in the game’s playlist but This Love by Maroon 5 stayed on repeat and although it didn’t make everything alright it provided some comfort as well as the blueprint for all rejections moving forward.  

    I didn’t know what to do.  I wanted to cry and then I wanted to laugh because I wanted to cry because I swore my heart’s defense was impenetrable.  To this day, my mother swears I was crying in that room but I wasn’t thanks to Adam Levine.  I’m sure she got a kick out of it though.

[burndownthehousetonight]

((This ain’t a full RP like most of these, but more an RP that’s inevitable going to be longer that I’m just cutting up in the name of keeping things concise, so keep an eye out for more additions @tinyredartist and I make!))

Where had these guys taken Aria, anyways? It wasn't a BAD restaurant, it didn't look like, but it seemed like such an oddly... bland choice. It didn't look like they were a bad place, just not really the ritz, either. A perfectly middle of the road restaurant in her own city. It was a surprise, just not really the best surprise she'd ever gotten.

Don't go flagging down that benz Don't kiss that garnet cartier

It seemed like that night, they had some kind of live singer there. It was no wonder that it was these two that had some kind of surprise for Aria. The only accompaniment was guitar and keyboard, so their missing keyboard player must have been playing here that night. And it clearly wasn't a vanity gift just for his sake, either...

Those red flags are dyed with blood from guys who didn't get away

...because that singing voice was clearly Manic.

As bland and quiet as it was, this place might as well have been the Ritz for the hedgehog. She rarely ate out because she didn’t have time, so this was already a treat. And the fact that the boys had remembered her birthday gave her a warm and fuzzy feeling on the inside. In fact, she even forgot. Her ears perked at the keyboard, the trio having walked in during a lyrical break, so she didn’t hear the singer at first.

But she recognized his sound.

She stood on tiptoes, trying to see over a partition if that was Manic. When she heard the green hedgehog’s singing, she squealed quietly. “I didn’t know Manic was playing a show in town! You guys this is the best!!” She had been texting back and forth with the green hedgehog for a while, but he never seemed to be in town on her days off.

They were lead to a table, front and center, but not too close to the amps. The perfect spot to watch. Manic sat on a small stage, clearly not designed with musicians in mind but set up well nonetheless. Detour, the group's keyboardist, nudged Manic slightly when he saw Aria enter. Manic was sitting down guitar in hand, performing some more down-tempo songs for a more down-tempo crowd. Manic looked up at the nudge, and smiled at Aria without breaking up the set. Surprisingly, he was playing unplugged for once. I've already died for you, no, no one's got a clue Pick me up at Shana's Tavern and we'll shift to overdrive You can find our stolen kisses hidden underneath my "grave" They can pry it from our corpses when we burn alive One of the songs off of the album he was selling at Dasvidania, but adjusted for the smaller instrument set. Mellow with a slight reggae vibe, it had a nice rhythm to it. It seemed she'd just arrived a short while after the show started, so she got to hear him cycle through all kind of style experiments and lyrical stories. Aria smiled back, clearly content with the surprise and the music choice. The relaxed music fit the vibe of the venue, the music choices simpler than what a full set would be, yet fitting.

She brought out her sketchbook and did a few rough sketches of Manic and Detour. Art made her happy and the lights were set up perfectly to get good detail from her seat. The sketches were influences by the music and when a particular favorite would come up, she would stop drawing to devote all her attention to listening. "Tell me all about your violent history 'Bout your scars and all your little fights" Original songs and covers were stitched throughout the set so the general moods would flow well together. No angsty songs leading directly into peppy songs, although Manic would have loved to do something like that just to watch the audience reactions. The final song of the set was a cover of a fairly popular soul song at the moment, even though it barely got much pop radio play. A solid choice. Take me to the marble gardens Gonna have to beg your pardon But I can't wait another night" Once the songs were over (far too soon for Manic's tastes) he disappeared into the back of the building with Detour and their instruments. Barely a minute later, they popped up behind the three sitting at Aria's table. "Heeeey, dude, happy birthday!" Manic said, giving her a friendly slap on the back. "Sorry I didn't say anything, but these guys said not to talk." He gave an exaggerated pout at the bat specifically. The two exchanged equally sassy glares for a moment, before laughing off the joking tension as usual. The audience clapped and cheered for the two as they walked off stage after their set. The tip jar Detour had put up filled quickly and was taken by a waiter to the backroom as well, added into the money from the gig itself.

Manic would be greeted with a hug, Aria's tail wagging. “Thank you thank you thank you! This was an awesome surprise!”

Dante, Detour and Drench would all receive hugs and a thanks from the small hedgie. She felt so loved and wanted. It was nice. "Wait, wait, this was a surprise?" Manic clearly didn't know. Drench just gave a toothy smile in response to that comment, blushing and getting embarrassed from the sudden hug. "You're welcome," Detour said, amused from seeing his crocodile bandmate looking uncharacteristically bashful. "But Manic pulled all the strings on this, he should get the credit." "Pulled the-? I just got the first open gig here I could get, I didn't know till cheetah bungy here told me offstage!" Manic pushed his quills back. "Ah, crap, I didn't get you a gift!" "You'll be fine," Danté assured him while receiving another hug from Aria. "She clearly doesn't care that much." Manic still felt a little guilty, but was temporarily distracted by a small warp activating near the entrance of the restaurant. This would have been terrifying to him most days, but from what Aria said, this was a completely normal thing for Scourge to do. As melodramatic and frivolous as it was. Aria was distracted by the band members, thanking the trio and Manic multiple times. She was blushy and happy, perfectly content. The waitress brought them bread and the band sat down with the birthday girl, leaving the two open chairs.

Scourge looked around for them from his portal, spotting Manic and waving. He made his way over, smiling. “Hey Manic. Haven’t seen you in a while… Oh hey guys. And hello birthday girl!!” Scourge briefly acknowledged the band before picking up Aria from behind in a bear hug. She whined and squealed, almost dropping her bread

“Scourge!!! I almost dropped my food!” She pouted, clearly still pleased with the affection. The band members either greeted Scourge with a nod or a wave of some kind. "Hey, mate," Manic greeted. He was going time to get used to how sociable Scourge was. His presence didn't even seem to give off too much of an edge, but today wasn't Scourge's birthday. Aria was the girl of the day, not that she had much competition at this table. And he had to come up with something personal, or at least that he thought of! Manic didn't touch the bread, still thinking as the five spoke between themselves. What did he have on hand? All his normal CDs and musical gubbins in his car, but nothing that interesting. A song...? Nah, he couldn't even write custom lyrics worth singing, and he wasn't giving a half-finished middle-school tier poem as a gift. But he didn't have anything else in his van! His van... "Uh, guys, how good's the food here, anyways?" Danté wiggled his fingers and shrugged. "It's kind of okay?" "Alright, cause I've got an idea." He pointed at Aria when she wasn't speaking. "You got any plans after this? We could just like, have the three of us pile in my van and drive for an hour, see where we end up. They could all come along too, if they ain't busy. Come on, a bland meal ain't exciting!" Scourge joined in on the bands conversation, mostly teasing the group and Aria. Around these people he wasn’t a criminal. Around these people he was a friend. An older brother figure. It was relaxing.

Aria herself was thriving in the attention. The boys knew she needed the night off, seeing as she hadn’t had a day off in two weeks. The hedgie turned to look at Manic as he spoke, and tilted her head to think. “I don’t think I’m busy… But yeah that sounds awesome!! Let’s do it!”

The boys in the band unfortunately declined. “Not that we wouldn’t love to celebrate with you, but we have a flight out east for my sisters wedding tomorrow.” Dante explained, getting up and throwing a tip for the waitress on the table.

“See you all when we get back?” The cheetah asked, as Aria gave them all hugs again. "Yeah, gimme a call when you wanna jam again!" He gave Dante and Detour their usual fist bumps, and Dante his usual high five. It was a bit disappointing to only be traveling with the three people, but it was three people who cared about one another. They didn't waste too long getting to Manic's van. It wasn't the cleanest, but it was just some litter. Nothing compared to the kinds of messes Aria had doubtless needed to clean before. Aria took front passenger seat, of course, with Manic taking the wheel and Scourge sitting behind Aria. "Alright, let's get this mess on the road! Manic revved the engine, and whatever old garage rock CD he was listening to came right back on as the van sped and trundled away from the restaurant. "Alright, so what kind of adventure are y'all in the mood for?" Manic asked, turning to Aria more directly. "You wanna roam around the city and see what comes up, or you just wanna get away from here?" Aria lacked her usual hesitation to get into a car and climbed in happily, turning up the music a bit. The beat of this song was good, as Aria's foot tapped to the music. The car drove off and Aria barely thought about her answer. "Out of the city,” she decided, settling in for the long drive ahead. Turning to Manic, she smiled.

“Thanks for this Manic. It means a lot… This is the nicest birthday I’ve had in a long time.” Her smile was a little sad, but it was covered up quickly.

Scourge agreed and leaned back in his seat inspecting the vans contents. The state of the interior was clean of course but Scourge had a sneaking suspicion that Manic had spent many nights here. He decided not to ask. It was Aria's birthday and he didn’t want to ruin it. "Hey, no problem, you should celebrate!" He was getting into the groove as well while the three turned onto some highway interchange. He wouldn't drive all the way out here without getting good driving music, after all. Dated and explicitly 90s, but still good music. Judging by the ways Manic tapped his feet and fingers to the beat, he must have listened to these songs many times. Manic wasted no time getting into the left lane and speeding up, just barely gracing under the speed limit. There were signs indicating towns that were nearby, and some that seemed much further away. He had no idea what any of these places were, and he wasn't going to find out for many of them. Still, if there was a sign indicating a city that was an hour away, there must have been something there to see. He silently made his choice. "Buckle up, I think we've got a looong ride going." Manic stopped himself short of actually singing along to some of the music. He didn't wanna annoy them, this was Aria's day out! But instead of Aria, his attention kept drifting to Scourge, who seemed to be checking out the back of the van. All that was back there now was his guitar and some miscellaneous garbage. A travel pillow, some old jacket, what looked like spare drumsticks, and some loose litter. It looked like he was thinking something... but kept his trap shut. If he had any questions, he could just ask them. And if he had any sass, he could drive himself back. Aria herself was getting into the groove, happily bouncing a little in her seat. She wasn’t as on beat as Manic was, but then again with all the driving Manic must have done, he knew the songs better. The red hedgie glanced at passing signs, super excited. Her tail wagged and she relaxed in the passengers seat. She barely recognized city names, perking up suddenly as they drove past a richly forested area. "Oh I know which way we’re going! I used to live there!”

She was pointing to a wide expanse of undeveloped land, not a house in sight. Judging by the sign they passed, the land was protected. There’s no way she could have lived there… Could she?

Scourges attention was on Manic, a little concerned. When he happened to catch the others eyes he raised an eyebrow as if to ask if he was okay. Before he could get a visual answer, his attention was drawn to Aria, and he leaned over to peek out the window.

“Oh yeah. Guess you did.” Manic just stared. This wasn't a home, this was... what, a park? A preservation area? Whatever it was was guarded, and Manic was curious about just what laid within. He almost wanted to stop and break in, but those guards either meant they were trying to keep people out, or they were trying to keep something in. And committing a felony and getting hurt wasn't generally a good birthday present. Manic slowed down a bit as they drove past, leaning over to stare out at the empty land. "Are you sure this is the right place? Maybe-" Aria seemed certain, though. He could watch thoughts billow, but couldn't tell what a single one was. There weren't any houses here now... maybe it was demolished? It was hard to believe some natural event could take out that much land. "Woah, dude..." He didn't say much, and didn't say it fluently. He tried to keep her happy by avoiding the obvious questions, and instead going to that same happy smarm. "So do you already know what's down this way, or is it still gonna be a surprise?" Manic focused on Aria for a short while. Scourge had definitely caught him peeking, so he kept turning away and saying nothing. Maybe if he acted natural, Scourge would think it was just a casual glance, nothing more. And he didn't want to stir up any drama on a trip for someone else. "Nah, I have no idea what’s down this way. Because of the rapids I wasn’t allowed to come anywhere near here. We should be coming up on the river soon,” she mused. Sighing dreamily at the forest. “I remember my siblings teaching me to climb trees over here so we could watch the cars.”

“The same siblings that pushed you out of said tree?” Scourge asked, amused.

“Well yeah but I got them all back.. Eventually. If we get back early enough, can we go for a walk?” Aria asked, turning around to ask the two for permission. If Manic wanted in, this was the only way. "Dude, it's your birthday!" Manic reassured here. "We can stop right now and walk around, do whatever you want!" They would need to drive a bit further before they could get on roads that lead to anywhere they could park. Maybe a short drive wasn't exactly a road trip, but they could always drive into the night and see what the city nightlife had to offer. Besides, Manic was curious about what was behind these gates. Telling Manic he couldn't go somewhere was a surefire way to make sure he ended up breaking in anyways. The place they found to finally park was just a patch of dirt with a few tire marks. They were the only people parked there, and by just how few treads there were, it didn't seem like many other people visited, either. He stole a few more looks at Scourge through his peripheral vision, making sure he wasn't up to anything. Thankfully not. He couldn't help but not trust him completely yet. "So, how're we getting in here?" "Really? Thanks so much manic!! Don’t worry about getting in, we just have to walk to the gates.” She got out of the car and Scourge did as well, waiting for Manic to join them. When he did, the trio walked over to the guards. Rather than speak, she rolled up her sleeve to reveal a barcode tattooed on the inside of her forearm. The guards scanned it and let her in with the boys.

Before she pulled her sleeve back down, Manic would see how scarred and red the tattoo was. Like it had been done by someone who was not a professional. Or like Aria had struggled during it.

The forest itself was beautiful, lush and green. Untouched by development.

How did she live here? This was wrong. Manic didn't know what this forest was, but it felt wrong. She needed identification tattooed into her skin to enter. It was heavily gaurded, it was a home, it was many things. Whatever this place really was, though, it definitely wasn't a simple lush forest. Either some thing bad was here or something bad happened here, he just knew it. "I've never seen this place before," Manic said, stating the obvious. He kept staring upwards at the tree canopy. It really was incredible, but Manic just knew he had to be on guard from... from what, exactly? Aria certainly wasn't nervous, so he should be fine with just a stroll. Especially if she calls this place her home. So they just kept walking through the rows of trees and local wildflowers. Manic fell behind, just so he could pull Scourge aside. "You get the feeling this place is... off?" The wind that blew through the trees carried smells of flowers and fruits. Like an orchard was nearby. Aria followed the smell.

Scourge looked at the other, a little sad. "Its not …off.. Just scarred. There was a… A very bad thing that happened here a long time ago… And this is the result of it all. Careful where you tread when we get to the trees that have posters on them.”

Scourge's statement was cryptic at best, and Manic couldn’t have understood until they reached an orchard of trees that were native to the area. It was breathtakingly beautiful, yet that off feeling in Manics gut was even more pronounced.

The portraits of all different people. The trees one of a kind. It felt like a sad place. A holy place….

A graveyard. Manic didn't even bother to step forward when they reached the orchard. He was terrified he'd stumbled on something that he shouldn't have. He couldn't take his eyes off of the posters. They were drawn with simple lines and shading, but were astonishingly lifelike. He could make out all the small bumps and curves of their faces, even from a distance. He didn't even want to keep going into these woods, it felt as though he was disgracing... someone. Disgracing someone by intruding into a history he wasn't a part of. But Aria was already walking forward, clearly not with any of the same complaints Manic had. What happened here, and why did Manic feel like this environment was choking him? Was it just his nerves acting up again? He tried to pull back Scourge, visibly shaken by his surroundings. "I feel like I shouldn't be here, dude." He confessed, letting his eyes dart to the side to look at the posters and ground. "Is she gonna be alright here?" Aria patted some trees gently as she navigated roots that stuck up from the ground. She shared quite a few cultural signifiers with the portraits. The portraits all had paper of varying age up until a certain point. Then all the paper was the same kind, the same age. Rips on the bottom of one portrait could be seen on the top of another one. The ages of the people were getting younger too. People killed in their prime, not of old age.

What had killed so many people? And why was Aria so at home here?

Scourge saw the nervousness in Manic's tone and whistled to Aria. "We forgot something in the car. Go on head we’ll catch up!” He called, and Aria walked deeper into the forest.

He turned back to Manic and placed his hand on his shoulder. “Deep breaths okay? Aria will be fine. If you don’t want to go in you don’t have to. It's overwhelming the first couple of times… ”

Another wind though the trees. Cherry blossoms and lavender smells wafting through the air. The scent was calming and soothing. In, out. He focused on calming down for once, but once a bit of anxiety crept through, he wasn't going to calm down completely. He appreciated that Scourge was trying to help him stay calm, but the fact that a Scourge was this understanding was screwing with Manic even more. Who the hell WAS he? Who the hell was Aria? Where the hell had they stumbled into? He stood up after a moment, having let some of his anxious nerves pass by. "Alright... I'm cool. Are you sure it's alright for me to- Well, she let us in, I guess." He faced the path leading up to the cemetary again. If it wasn't so grim, it would have been a lovely place to visit. But a place that clearly must have held many emotions for her on her birthday? Moreover, her not even being bothere by something so haunting and personal? Manic didn't have even one part of the story, and he wasn't sure if he wanted it. There were many, many thoughts going through Manic's head. But if he wanted answers to most of his questions, he was going to need to ask Aria herself. Scourge could only answer a few of Manic's questions. "Who are you?" It came out of nowhere as they started moving into the forest again. "I mean, I've never met a Scourge like you before. So... who are you?" Scourge was taken aback by Manic's outburst, his sudden spring back from an anxious state.

"Who am I? Well that depends on who’s asking. To Aria I’m a good friend. To my people, I am a king who tries hard for a job he wasn’t trained for. To my enemies, I’m a force to be reckoned with. To myself, I’m a mix of all of those and more…. The reason you haven’t met anyone like me, is because of the way this place sits in the vast expansion of the multiverse. Most Scourges are opposites of Sonics. The evil used to balance out the good. In our case. I’m the good used to balance out the evil. So don’t expect me to follow the patterns you’re used to, because I don’t think I could… As for this place, I understand how you feel about it and I wouldn’t worry. Aria is desensitized in a way, sometimes I catch her forgetting not everyone had the tough life she did. She came out of this tragedy a fighter and she will still be one for as long as she can.”

He started walking down the path. “Don’t be afraid of this place. Their deaths may have been sad, but from what Aria told me, the trees as gravestones are sort of meant to make this area better to be in.”

Aria's head popped around the edge of a tree further down the path. “Everything okay, Manic?” It was a lot to take in at once, and a lot to hear. He had so many more questions he wanted to ask Scourge, but he hadn't asked Aria any of the questions he had about her or this place, either. He couldn't focus without feeling like he was leaving something out. So he stopped focusing on asking questions, and decided to start going with the flow. "Yeah, turns out I had the thing with me all along!" Manic shouted back, putting on a small smile. Just big enough to seem natural to Aria, given how he'd reacted before. "Yeah, we're catching up!" He did exactly as Scourge had asked before, tip-toeing through the grounds carefully. He did his best to match Aria's own footsteps through the dirt. He didn't want to step on anything that wasn't supposed to be stepped on. His attention kept shifting back towards Scourge as he walked, but there was too much to focus on for him to keep staring at one person. The serenity of the area was somehow more uncomfortable than a disturbing, gnarled forest may have been. It was like the whole forest was lying about it's intentions. Aria lead them through a clearing. In the center was a cherry blossom tree wrapped up and intertwined with an oak tree that grew crooked. Surrounding those two was a small semicircle of six other trees. Unevenly spaced, they looked like there was room for two more. The portraits on these trees were different. They looked like a family. A group of siblings and their parents. The parents portraits were the only two he would see facing each other, the look shared between them was one of love and devotion.

Scourge guided Manic away quickly. The other would be overwhelmed by the sight. They kept walking until the posters disappeared and they came upon water. A lake, crystal clear and perfect.

"Ah. Much better! This is my favorite place to go for a walk! Sorry that it's not as exciting as the city” Aria apologized, taking off her heels and walking along the beach. What was being hidden from him? His gaze was averted when they came up on another patch of trees, although he couldn't see any details. Maybe it was another gravesite? Maybe those portraits were meant to be comforting, but they only made each gravestone more personal. Manic might have tried to steal peeks, but He couldn't see anything that seemed too unique about this site from a distance. This couldn't have been TOO bad, right? Still, Scourge's sentiment was nice. "Go wherever you want, dude..." Manic said, still somewhere between awestruck and confused. The lake was so bizarrely... perfect. That's what this forest was, it seemed perfect. The water was so clear, he could see deep into the bottom of the pool at the lowest reaching sands. There weren't waves or large ripples, only light movements from the light breeze. It was gorgeous, in spite of everything. But the sight of the bed going deeper and deeper under the clear water was somehow terrifying. That lavender breeze came back, pushing the water slightly in a different direction. He took a deep breath, trying to keep calm. "It's a gorgeous place," Manic said to no one in particular. Scourge didn't know how manic would react. His first time here, he freaked at the sight of those trees. Scourge didn’t want Manic freaking out about it. Not here.

"Thank you,” Aria smiled at Manic's compliment. Then splashed at Scourge a little bit.

“HEY! ” Scourge whined.

He was let go, and Scourge sat to take his shoes off, joining Aria to walk along the beach. Neither was paying attention to Manic, so if he was really curious, he could go back and check to see what Scourge was hiding. But the spot they were on right now was perfectly beautiful. The sky was just starring to turn purple as the sun set, and the lake reflected it all. Manic needed to know. What was this place all about? Clearly, the intertwined trees and rows of portraits in the small grove were more meaningful, or even important. He was used to taking plenty of things he shouldn't have, and used the first opportunity to steal a chance to run. He ducked into the small area, once more careful to step on the bare ground and nowhere else. At first, he didn't quite seem to understand anything about this patch. It didn't just look like trees were cut or burnt down, it looked as though they weren't ever planted in the first place. Once more, the artistry of the portraits struck him. The refined but loving glare between the couple was subtle, it was intense, it was a complicated set of emotions that carried perfectly through the paper, and all of their presumed children carried some kind of elegant or regal air to them. A proud family. Family? The more he looked, the more it dawned on him just who these pictures were. Was this child someone he... no, she wasn't anyone Manic could have known, but she looked vaguely familiar for some reason. All of them did, in fact. And the more he looked to find an answer, the more he focused on the pencil work. Not that he was an art snob, but he knew this pencil work as Aria's. Had she really been drawing these kinds of portraits for years upon years, cataloging the faces of deceased friends and neighbors for years? He just leaned over, examining the features on a portrait of one of their sons to try and find an answer. Aria had noticed that Manic had left, and walked away from the splash fight to follow him, peeking around a tree.

She was surprised to see him inspecting the work she had done and redone for years. Every other portrait was fine, only done once. Her family had been redone more than three times at least. Even on the portraits, everyone’s looked like they had been redrawn or changed at one point or another.

The emotion here was strong, and the lavender breeze blew again. The first tree on the right was surrounded by a bed of lavenders. That’s where the smell came from. This tree was of a women who could have been Aria, but not quite. An older sister.

“Manic? Everything okay?” Aria stepped out from behind the tree as if she hadn’t been watching. Manic kept staring forward at the portraits. There was no doubt in his mind that these were relatives of Aria. The sound of her walking into a small area like this startled him. He would have hated walking somewhere like this, but Aria had taken this entire trip so blithely. How was she not even a little sad? Manic turned around, not moving his head at first. "Your drawings are incredible," he said. Yeah, Aria's face was too similar to many of these hanging around him for it to be a coincidence. He still wasn't sure what to make of the empty spaces where trees seemed to be missing entirely. As though they had never been planted in the first place. All he could do was smile and carry on. He couldn't smile convincingly. His eyes belied his sadness, his worry. He didn't know what to say about this that wouldn't likely make everything worse. He walked towards Aria while still trying to force a smile out. "I'm really sorry, if I knew what was here, I wouldn't've driven us..." He held his forehead in his hand, taking a deep breath and trying to relax. "I don't think I should've come in, dude." It seemed as though he thought he somehow insulted, or even offended Aria just by being in what was clearly a personal place. “Sorry I didn’t mean to startle you…” She paused as Manic complemented her work, the portraits she had spend hours on to get just right with only a single photo and her blurry memories to go on. “Oh, thanks… That means a lot. I’m still not happy with them. I can’t get the eyes right.”

Her smile dropped as she inspected his face. He was trying to keep it together and under control. She drew closer, concerned for Manic. “No, I’m sorry Manic… I shouldn’t have brought you. I keep forgetting that people aren’t as desensitized to this as I am… We can go if you want, go to the city and see if we can’t find something better to do?” Aria seemed worried about Manic now, and wrapped her arms around herself.

“Guess I ruined the fun tonight, didn’t I? I’m sorry…” "Ah, Aria..." Manic held his arms out and walked forward at the apology. "Dude, you don't need to apologize, Scourge warned me. I mean, Scourge tried to stop me from looking too hard, you didn't do anything. I'm just being a butthead." He said with that joking tone. Manic sighed, and peaked behind himself once more. "I dunno, I guess if you want to see this place again..." He turned around and put on another smile. "It's your birthday, dude. If this place makes you happy, then yeah, you should come here! Celebrate however you want, I'm just trying to make sure you're having a good time. I'll be fine." He didn't know what else to say, so he just offered her a comforting pat on the back. "Come on, don't you have a splash fight to win or something?" “Actually I think we should head to the city and see what the nightlife has to offer. Come on, let’s go find Scourge.”

She lead the other back to the lake, where fireflies were just starting to emerge. Several had landed on Scourge and he was admiring the view of the lake. Aria slowed to match Manic's pace. “I owe you drinks and an explanation, but not tonight.”

Scourge got up and waded back over to them, looking at them both and raising a brow, asking if they were both okay in a nonverbal manner. Aria merely nodded.

“Wanna head back to the highway and go to the city?” Aria asked.

Scourge shrugged. “Whatever the birthday girl and driver say.” "Hell, I wanna head down there, too! Come on, let's go make some mistakes!" Manic put on some excitement to help lighten their moods just a bit. He waved his hand towards Scourge as he waded out of the water, motioning for him to follow the two. Aria lead the way of course, leaving Manic to keep glancing back at all of the strange things they passed. He took one more look over the various portraits in the family graveyard. How could she have been unhappy with those eyes? He took one more look at the many, many hanging pictures in what must have been the community graveyard. Who were these people, their names, their stories? He supposed he might never know. He took one more look at the guards as they exited the gates. Why on earth did she have that tattooed into her arm? Why not a simple ID card? Manic kept his mouth closed and stopped himself from saying any more. Aria was doing better, and he wasn't ruining the mood. When he got into the drivers seat, he reached under his chair and pulled out a book of CDs. There was a surprisingly random mix of genres throughout it - Manic's driving music, clearly. "Come on, it's your birthday, what're you in the mood for?" The car was already pulling out of the spot, restarting the long drive towards whatever that city was. "Trust me, they're all worth a listen." Scourge pulled on his shoes and they all passed through the orchard again. Scourge unable to stop Manic from looking this time. Another lavender wind. Soothing. Gently ruffling the papers and making them wave in the wind. Almost as if they were saying goodbye.

The fireflies danced around them, natures flashlight so they didn’t trip in the dark. They got to the gate and Aria held it open for the boys. One of the guards, the younger one probably, cleared his throat.

“Uh, Miss Aria? The scanner said it was your birthday soon… So happy birthday.” He stuttered a little, nervous. Aria responded with a sweet smile and a pat on his cheek. “Thank you hon. See you next week.”

In the car, she flipped through the CDs. Unable to care about artists or genres, she looked for pretty CD art or anything by Manic himself. “Got any of your stuff in here?” She asked, stopping on a page to inspect art. "This binder's like, all my usual listening music." He looked over with a slightly judging grin. "Don't you think that'd be really pretentious?" He held a stare with her for a moment. "Anyways, yeah, they're all in the first few pages." The three were already speeding down the highway towards whatever this city had to offer. The CD reader took it's time reading through the CD, before starting to churn out some vaguely familiar songs. Don't go flagging down that benz Don't kiss that garnet cartier The version of the song with full instrumentation was very heavy on the piano. In fact, it seemed like the vast majority of the instruments had been cut out entirely, or reduced down into a modified piano backing track for his earlier show. He wasn't getting into it as much, but hell, he'd listened to this song tons of times before. He kept thinking about everything he'd seen, feeling the time virtually slip away through the incandescent streetlight glow and smooth synth grooves. "Knew it.” She giggle as she put in one of his CDs. She bounced around in her seat and hummed along. “I have to say. As much as I like the live version, I like this version better. Piano alone doesn’t get the vibe across.”

The drive ended quite a while later on a bright, bustling city of neon lights and flashing signs. Aria was awestruck by the sights. Scourge was quiet. He’d been here before years ago so he knew the general layout. But hey, if the two in the front wanted adventure he would let them adventure.

“Its beautiful! Look at all these lights!! And all of these people!! I don’t know where to focus on first? Where do you wanna go Manic?” "Oooh crap, this is awesome!" He almost wanted to drive on the highway circling the city just to see how ridiculous the city lights could get, but he was too impatient, and immediately started looking for the nearest exit. "It's like, the tackiest garbage, I LOVE tacky garbage! I've got no idea, let's just see what there is!" As they turned down the ramp, they started to realize just what kind of a city this was. There were casinos and resorts dotting the city, surrounded by all kinds of flashy hotels, grand restaurants, all decorated in groteque, almost baroque over-the-top ornamentation. It was a delightful, thrilling kind of tacky. An off brand Vegas, essentially. But Manic was expecting a normal city with tons of interesting stores and sights, not something this exciting! He was just as taken back by how energized it all seemed. They could stop for a real meal. They could explore the casinos or resorts. They could check out the show venues or even just walk around and see what the most ridiculous thing they could find would be. Manic couldn't decide, and given Aria's reaction to it all, she certainly liked the sights, too. "How about we just park at random, wander at random and see what kinda nonsense we can run into, hm?" Aria drew off of Manics excitement and started wagging her tail super fast. Bouncing around. Super excited. Scourge chuckled at Aria's wiggled of excitement, knowing how much she would love this place.

"That sounds awesome! But can we go get food? I’m starving!” Aria suggested, looking for a restaurant in the bright lights. Scourge leaned forward to suggest a restaurant he’d seen on TV a few days before.

“It's Italian food. So we're looking for an Italian flag or a sign that looks like Italy. They have this lasagna that’s supposed to be heavenly. I know that’s your favorite, kiddo.”

Aria squeaked happily and looked out the window for the restaurant. Oh, it certainly had an Italian flag. In the prevailing local style of throwing everything all together at once as much as possible, they soon came across a restaurant whose exterior was aggresively italian. From down the street, they could already see the massive green, white and red stripes up the building. That was to say nothing of the massive statue of the Leaning Tower protruding from the exterior, or the giant central window mimicking the Milan cathedral. For some reason, they put this exterior on a building with what was clearly strangely elegant and comfortable decorations. A normal day in whatever the hell this place was called. "I'm like, ten percent sure we've found it." Manic said, pulling around to look for some parking space. It seemed that the night life in this place was stunningly busy, but they still managed to find a parking space that wasn't ten miles from their destination. It was out of the way of the casinos, after all. The CD abruptly cut off in the middle of yet another song that had been drilled into Manic's memory, and the three hopped out of the car.  "You go on ahead, I'm just gonna check something quickly." He waiter for Aria to disappear behind the corner, before leaning against the car and letting out a long sigh. "Alright, that happened, it's over. Don't let it get to you." He pinched his forehead for a moment, and then stood up tall. "You'll be fine, Manic. "Only ten?” Aria snorted a little, staring at the classy building that had been redecorated, and made just as tacky as the rest of the city. Her stomach made a bit of a growling noise. Aria put her heels back on in the car, then hopped out of the van. When Manic told her to go on ahead, she did so. A little concerned albeit, but if Manic needed something he would ask. She walked into the restaurant, asking for a table for three. She was seated in a booth by the front window so she could see when the boys were coming.

Scourge wasn’t as eager to eat and placed a hand on Manic's shoulder. “Hey, you alright man? You need to sit down or something?”

He understood what the other was feeling. Overwhelmed. Confused. If Manic wanted to say something, Scourge was the best person to say it to.

Well. In theory. "You said you didn't really handle Aria's home that well the first time you visited, right?" He let out a chuckle. "I guess I'm just not over that stuff." Just from the way Manic stared at the ground, it was clear he didn't know if he wanted to say something or not. But Scourge was patient. "Hey... I don't want this to make things awkward, right?" He said more quietly this time around. "I've just known a bunch of Scourges before. Most of them were just assholes, but some of them were really- just the worst people. More than some Finitevuses. And some were just-" He paused again, trying to think of a way to say it that wouldn't have been too terrible. "Some of the best guys I've ever known. Scourges are all... there are a lot of emotions there, you know? All of the emotions, actually." He more joked out of instinct than a need to be humored. "I'm just not used to it yet, dude. If I ever do anything stupid, just..." He chuckled again. "I don't care, punch me or something." For 'just checking something,' he was spending a lot of time outside. "Come on, I ain't leaving Ari hanging." "Yeah. Dealing with that place is hard. And Aria showing you was definitely a sign of trust. If you need a few minutes to process without me here I can go.” He motioned in the direction Aria walked off in, then stopped.

“Manic. This is the second or third time you’ve told me this. And this is the second or third time that I’m telling you, its fine. I’m not gonna hit you. You’ve been nothing but kind and I know that if you do say something mean spirited, that you’ll recognize and apologize. So please stop. It’s not needed.”

Scourge looked back towards the restaurant that Aria had gone into.

“$5 says she’s already eating the bread." It did mean a lot to him that Aria trusted him enough to show him somewhere that personal to him. And it did mean a lot that Scourge was putting so much trust into Manic. There was a swell of emotions, and many, many thanks in order. He needed to think hard to find the best way to say thank you. "Five bucks says she's not eating the next basket." And then he stopped searching. Yeah, Scourge already made himself clear, Manic knew he was going to be fine. Maybe it hadn't sunk in entirely that, but he knew that logically. As long as he forced himself to have a good time, the fact would sink in eventually. It didn't come through to him in words, just in loose thoughts, but he knew exactly what he was doing. He started back towards the building. Most of his strong emotions were simply replace by other strong emotions. Relief, primarily. But for now, he had a day to enjoy. And judging by what he saw through the window, Scourge was about to have five more dollars to enjoy. Aria was a bit of a stress eater. When Manic and Scourge stayed behind she felt this ugly feeling in her gut. A little bit of a bubbly, burning sensation that announced the start of what she knew as anxiety. The bread she had been given served dual purpose as a distraction and to calm her biology. She had learned years ago that ones flight or fight response could be overridden with food. Ingesting food tricks the body into thinking one is safe and calms anxiety.

The feeling slowly went away as she caught sight of the boys walking towards the restaurant. When they came in, she wouldn’t notice the exchange of money under the table or Scourge's smirk as he pocketed the five.

"The bread good?” He teased her, grabbing a piece from the basket. She merely stuck her tongue out at him.

“Everything okay Manic?” Manic smiled at her. "Yeah, I'm doing fine." Not entirely a lie. Given the outside of the building, the inside was unfittingly comfortable. Good design, good atmosphere, it seemed like the outside was just some attempt at making it a tourist trap. They meshed terribly together, but they weren't here to judge the design. They were here to choose what to eat, and the menu made that a serious task. Every of the extensive menu items was given a flowery description and some kind of a professional photo that made them look absolutely divine. It was more than enough to keep Manic's mind off of his still settling emotions. "The hell is this menu, War and Peace or something?" He kept flipping back and forth, looking through the excessive number of pages. "Ah man... I think I'm definitely going with these little ravioli boys, but dang, this was a good choice." Maybe he was going to be somewhat uncomfortable, but he definitely wasn't going to be miserable here, especially with friends to put up with his stupid jokes. The menu made everything look appetizing. Aria had picked the lasagna already, and Scourge was settling on the three cheese Alfredo.

"The outside and the inside do not match,” Scourge mused, saying what Manic was thinking. The inside was made to feel like home because that’s what was being served. Food that made people feel at home.

Aria shrugged a little. “I dunno. I kinda like it.” She had her sketch book out and was drawing the city from their window view. Settled into comfortable silence. Manic couldn't see the invisible shapes and guides Aria already had laid out in her head. To his eyes, she somehow had the shapes of the city already down on paper somehow, and was carefully tracing over every line with detail. He didn't want to stare, but he couldn't help for just a minute. Watching what looked like vague squares and nondescript lines take on new forms in a moment was more than fascinating. If her earlier portraits didn't already say how good of an artist she was, this certainly gave it away. But he realized she might not have enjoyed having her art watched from a distance, so he turned back towards Scourge, giving Aria a clear view of the street behind him. "Hey, I love that kind of nonsense out there, but I don't want to eat my food on a chair-shaped mishmash of Italian stereotypes. I'm glad the stupid stuff's staying out there." It wasn't a great conversation starter, but it was quiet enough that it shouldn't have distracted Aria from her work. Besides, Scourge was cool, and he wasn't going to get comfortable if he didn't bite the bullet and talk to him. Aria didn’t mind someone watching her draw, her mind engrossed in the action of the art and the street itself. The people were drawn in a different way than Manic would be used to seeing, instead of details they were quick gestural figures.

Scourge nodded. "Yeah. The stereotypes are kinda offensive. But this place is run by Italian people so I guess that’s why it's not in here at all. Anyways, the food here is supposed to be worth being blinded by the signs for.” "Hey, the tacky stuff's the memorable part, at least. Now you get your horrible 90s and 80s tacky stuff, THAT'S the good stuff." Manic and Scourge would shoot back and forth with these comments, discussing tacky design and the various kinds of nonsense of the area as they placed their orders and continued emptying basket after basket of bread with Aria's willing help. But he was starting to get calmer as the night went on. Was it the good company or just the light drinking? Maybe a little of both. Either way, Manic was feeling better. And as time passed and their orders were started, Manic started watching Aria draw more and more. He didn't know much about art, but he knew this was good art. The figures were oddly simplified in a good way. He thought that maybe she specialized in landscapes, but her portraiture was clearly great, and the light sketches he could see through the paper of himself and Detour performing showed she had a good grasp on bodies, too. "How long have you been drawing?" Manic felt like he had to ask. She seemed to have a great grasp on many different areas. Even if he wasn't watching her drawing process live, he would have still appreciated it. Scourge laughed at one of Manics jokes, sipping at his wine. The other male was fun to be around. Still a little stressed maybe, but fun. The night was a good one this far. And the company was lovely.

Aria's ears perked and she looked up at Manic. Then her nose scrunched up as she thought. "Well I don’t know. I’ve been drawing since I was a baby. We used to have one designated person who would draw all of those portraits on the trees. Like a job. My grandfather was best friends with the man who did them, and when my parents would leave me and my siblings with our grandfather, he would leave me with him and I would sit on his lap and watch as a little baby. When I got older I would hand him art supplies and he would teach me basics. He taught me basic sketching, painting, everything really. Then I didn’t do much because I was out on the streets and didn’t have a place or money to keep supplies. When I got older and got a steady income the first thing I treated myself to was art supplies. And I haven’t stopped since.” Manic listened intently, darting his eyes down to watch her continue drawing from time to time. The implications of the story were quite depressing, but she presented it all so romantically. The same way she treated her little home. It felt as though she was using the terror to build fond memories. An odd, odd concept. "Hey, me and drumming?" He spoke as she finished her story. "It's the exact same kinda love story." Even with only a vague idea of Aria's history, he knew that if he was in some kind of similar situation, he wouldn't have been able to continue drawing, or drumming, or whatever his hobby would have been. But here she was, enjoying her time spent with her art. It was pleasant, even if he couldn't help but feel just a little jealous. Of her reclamation of her emotions, her raw talent- Okay, he was very jealous. But he was used to it by now. And at least this particular jealousy came with a nice night out with friends and a good meal. She smiled at the thought of tiny Manic smashing away on a tiny drum kit. It made her smile. "So who taught you how to drum then? I imagine you as that kid who would steal pots and pans and pretend to play on them.”

Scourge stayed quiet. He didn’t have an interest like the other two did. Didn’t have the support system. Aria was not the only sad story at the table, but he kept quiet.

They could compare battle scars another day. Their food was ready. "Who taught me how to drum? I taught me how to drum," Manic said with just a bit too much pride. "Trust me, I just had drum sticks with me all the time. Pots and pans? Drums. Buckets? Drums. That smashed up old car outside no one ever towed or took back or anything? You'd better believe that crap was ten kinds of drums." He looked down at the table, with another large grin. "I was the worst kind of kid." Scourge didn't seem to be talking much on the topic. Maybe he just had some kind of weird hobby he didn't like talking about. Manic was about to pry into an open wound... And then immediately forgot everything. "Oooooh dang nuggets!" Manic was immediately distracted by the arrival of their food. The menu photos didn't do them justice. Fresh, warm and clearly plated with plenty of care. Every piece of food was clearly prepared with a lot of love and care, and cooked with just as much. This wasn't the kind of food that reminded people of home, this was the food that reminded them of old childhood memories where everything was fun and exciting, and every little detail of life was perfect and beautiful in it's own way. As though someone had reached into those memories and pulled them out. It was almost a shame to start eating and ruin the plating. Almost. Aria put her sketchbook away and perked up, trying not to drool at the sight of dinner. A perfectly plated, hearty lasagna. Scourge's Alfredo was just as tasty looking, rich and creamy with mushrooms on top.

"Bon appetite!” The girl said and started cutting up the lasagna. Scourge snapped a picture of Aria eating and the two had a small play fight over the phone and deleting the image. He held it put of her reach and mused.

“Hey Manic who should we send this photo to?” He teased her. In moments like these, he forgot his loneliness. "Hmmm?" Manic had gotten lost in the dish. Every part of the cheese, sauce and sweet pasta exterior meshed together perfectly. Each texture complimented the last perfectly, overtones and subtle spicing playing off of one another perfectly. It was perfectly cooked, perfectly prepared, a simple experience. Manic hardly realized just how much of it he had eaten already. He would have continued eating like this, if there wasn't an opportunity to mess with someone. "What, you sending that to a food blogger now or summat?" Manic asked, looked up at Scourge with his usual sass. "Don't you send that to me, I don't wanna look at this kind of awesome food when I'm cooking dollar store raviolis in an empty soup can!" Although he kind of did want the photo. He knew he was going to remember a day like this for a while, but a few mementos were always nice. Even if he did have to see them while cooking in a soup can. "Scourrrrgggeee!” Aria whined, having been disturbed from her pasta induced food coma by the green hedgehogs. She pouted, crossed her arms and glared holes into Scourge's head. The older male only laughed.

Manic would feel a whoosh of air next to his leg, and Scourge dropped his phone to grab at his shin, trying not to curse in the family friendly restaurant. Aria stuck her tongue out and grabbed his phone off the floor, happily deleting the picture and returning to her lasagna quietly. Looking up at Manic.

“Why do you cook in an empty soup can? Do you not have a pot?” She seemed concerned as she ate her pasta and hid Scourge's phone in her shirt so the other wouldn’t grab it and take any other pictures.

Scourge stopped as well. “Well then you’re definitely coming over for dinner at the castle next time you’re in town.” "Really, dude? That'd be ace." Manic was more than fine with the idea, as long as he didn't need to be too formal for a royal visit. "Nah, I can but cooking stuff, but like, I cook so little it ain't worth it. Besides, it's like, a really big soup can. It's more like a really big bowl. I think-" He stopped himself. "I think it might just be a paint can." Manic didn't speak too much. He definitely wanted to keep eating his heavenly meal, and he didn't want to gnash it all with his mouth open after knowing people for barely a month. Month and a half? Probably, but he wasn't there yet. "Oh my god, this place is incredible." He regularly took sips of wine, probably just a bit more than the driver should have. "Ah man, that's good. I wouldn't expect this from how this whole place... you know, looks, but damn, this was a good choice." He was grinning ear to ear, silently happy Aria's sketchbook had been pushed far away from the table. He didn't have to worry about ruining her sketches in a delicious manner. Sketches! That was it, he hadn't gotten to ask his question. "Oh yeah, I forgot to ask, dude!" He turned back to face Scourge mid bite. "Yeah, I mean, I'm a music bloke, she's a drawing type, are we all artsy types here? You got anything of the sort?" He gleamed at him as he ate, impatient and excited for an answer. Aria was appalled when she found that he was cooking in a paint can. "Manic that’s super dangerous!! The toxic chemicals in the paint could kill you! Until you get a better pot you can just take one from my place.”

They all savored their food, Scourge unusually silent during his meal. That usually meet he liked it a lot. “I agree. This place was just as good as they said. Definitely going to come here again. Next time though, Imma go easier on the bread…” Still he finished his dinner and used some bread to clean his dish of the extra sauce.

Aria tensed as Manic asked about Scourge's hobbies, wondering if that would prompt a bad reaction from her friend. Scourge stiffened as well, but tried to hide it behind a relaxed façade. “No. I don’t usually have time for hobbies.”

Short. To the point. Manic probably hit a sore spot. He should drip the topic and move on to something else. Oops. "Alright, fair enough. Gotta do what you've gotta do," Manic added. He could see some of the tenseness, but wasn't about to push him too far. Scourge was gonna be patient with him, Manic had to be patient with him. So he just played along and acted as though he hadn't seen some of those sudden nerves. He thought he might as well finally address that point Aria brought up and shove that aside. "And yeah, I'll get something that isn't a paint can, but I ain't taking some kinda pots from you, I ain't a charity case over here! I can afford this kinda meal, I ain't broke!" Well, usually not, but that was beyond the point. He wished he could keep eating, but any more and he was likely to hurl. "Speaking of, where's our waiter? We've got a whole city worth of weird nonsense to discover!" Payment might have been a little more than Manic would have liked, but he could definitely afford it. Hell, that show went spectacularly, he knew tonight was gonna be on him. "I don't wanna mooove," he moaned as he stood up, forcing himself to not fall asleep in an explosion of italian stereotypes. The short walk back outside hit them all in the face with exactly how ridiculous the streets looked again. To their left, a mass of performance halls for magicians, musician, all covered in a small island nation's worth of light bulbs. In front of them, streets leading to flashy shows with clothes, jewelry, all kinds of luxury goods. And to their right, the mass of glass and neon lights that loosely formed into some kind of post-modernist casino. "So," Manic mused, "what kinda nonsense are we getting up to?" He wasn't just curious to sees what Aria wanted to do, he also wanted a moment to step away from her and wonder just what was going on with Scourge. There was a squabble for payment between the two green males, the green king offering to cut the bill. He relented, by making both of them promise that the rest of the nights purchases were on him. Aria agreed quietly, and only because she knew her measly pay couldn’t cover anything the city had to offer.

"It's not charity. You’ll give it back when you have the money and time”, she insisted, walking out of the restaurant. Staring in awe at the glittering lights again. Just admiring. Scourge joined her, leaning against the building and taking all the glamour in. Manic had hit a bit of a sore spot. He needed to readjust his personality.

Aria's ears perked as she looked towards the casino, tilting her head. “How about we hit the casino first, rake in some cash, then go to the shops, then the music hall? Sound good?”

Scourge nodded and glanced down at the takeout container that aria had. That also upset him, as did her talks about money. Aria had, in the past, eaten in portions like this to prolong food when they were younger and she was short on cash. He had a feeling she wasn’t being honest with him…

“Manic. Can you unlock the van so Aria can put her leftovers away and I can grab something I dropped in there?” He borrowed one of Manic's excuses. Aria noticed and stated quiet. Chances are scourge was going to be talking money and didn’t want to embarrass her in front of Manic with how little she actually had. "Yeah, dude, take your time." Manic pulled his car key out of his pocket and chucked it over to the two of them. "I've gotta call someone up, anyways." He watched them go towards the van for a moment, before taking a break and walking in the other direction. Just a few steps, just far enough to lean against the side of the building without leaning on the window. How long were they going to be searching for whatever Scourge dropped? Hopefully long enough so he could finish talking to him. He went straight to speed dial, and waited as the phone rang again and again... "Yo, Sonic." Manic said, quieter than usual. "Yeah, we just headed out for dinner, we're doing good. ... Dude, I'm not a kid anymore, I'm- No, I can take care of myself. You're lucky I'm putting up with this, don't press your luck." There was a wait as he listened to Sonic speak. "Yeah, they're both fine! They're good people, Sonic, you can cut it! You've already told me- Yes, nerves in spines and that garbage, but- No, YOU listen, you aren't alone with that! You don't know what-" He sighed excessively loudly, making sure every bit of air was plainly audible. "Alright, you can choke. Piss off." He didn't just stop at ending the call, but turned off his phone completely, leaning against the building and breathing deeply to keep himself calm. Aria and scourge walked to the van, aria placing her leftovers inside. Scourge grabbed the door, blocking her path. "Talk to me. You’re not eating. Why?”

She pushed her hair out of her face, unamused with her friend. “Too much bread.”

“Don’t lie to me. I’ve seen you portion like this before. When you were homeless and broke. You aren’t getting paid, are you?” He challenged again, knowing Aria couldn’t resist correcting a mistake in his story. She did not correct him, merely glared.

“You’ve been working your ass off. Why aren’t you getting paid? Is the bat harassing you again? Do I need to file a complaint?” Scourge was getting angry and Aria pushed him back, walking around the car to go back to Manic. Scourge stopped her with a hand on her wrist.

“If I find out you’re hiding something because you didn’t want to worry me, you are gonna be in so much trouble.”

Aria was furious, drawing herself up to her full, still short, height. “You are NOT the boss of me,” she declared, and stormed off back to Manic. Manic had since bottled up his emotions, mucking around with some random game on his phone when he finally saw Aria returning from the car. He definitely had enough time to talk, so he wasn't going to ask what made them wait. All he knew was that Aria was definitely making some kind of pout from a distance. "Hey toffee, why the grumpy face?" He said, giving her a confusing sentence and a joking ruffle of her hair to try and get a smile out of her. "Are you sad you aren't gonna get five more baskets of bread?" In usual Manic fashion, sticking his tongue out as he toyed with Aria while Scourge trailed behind. "Come on, let's go see how ridiculous this place gets!" Manic was happy to let Aria take the lead on the short walk over to the casino area. Of course, there were a lot of emotions being pushed aside for the time being. Aria's money, Manic's conversation, and Scourge's mess of burdens, but they all pushed through their real feelings for no real good reason. Some better than others. "Not a fan of casinos?" Manic said, turning to Scourge while Aria charged ahead. "Yeah, they're kinda skeevy, ain't they?"

Aria's pout disappeared when she got close enough to Manic, giggling and purring as he messed up her hair. "Yeah just upset that I couldn’t finish that meal, it was so good! But I wouldn’t say toffee, maybe more red licorice,” she joked back, inspecting the red hue of her hair.

Aria jogged up ahead to inspect the entrance. The lights were blinding but beautiful. She felt like a little kid in a candy store. She also stuck relatively close to the boys. Just as protection.

Scourge shrugged at Manic's question. “I don’t gamble. Only been inside one once and that was years ago for a diplomatic meeting when I was far too young to gamble.”

Aria fell into step with them and nodded. “Yeah, I don’t know much about anything like this… Never had the opportunities.” "Alright, so y'all already know that you're gonna be at disadvantages, right?" Manic said. "House always wins, and all that crap. All you've gotta know is, don't push your luck. Quit when you're ahead. Like, you guys hit fifty bucks or something, that's it, don't go any further. We're just here to have fun, y'know?" It was pretty much all common sense, but Manic had to learn these things thought a complete lack of common sense, so he felt like he had to tell them, just to be safe. There was no mistaking that this was a casino lobby. The over-the-top marble and glass, the bright lights and classy patterns used in tacky, delightful ways, it was all there. Not to mention the blasts of sound from the various casino halls and a ridiculous resort area. Bells and chimes and all kinds of exciting sounds to make it sound like everyone was making money in some capacity. It was an instantly thrilling atmosphere, promising that someday, this could all be yours with just a few lucky pulls of a lever and a few hands of cards. Manic had been to plenty of casinos, but usually not to gamble. It was an atmosphere he'd come to love, in spite of all of the underlying tragedy that was doubtlessly present. "I was just gonna hit up some slots and maybe stop at the bar a bit. You guys wanna come along, or you wanna find your own adventures?" "I think I’ll stick with you. I feel like an open target.” Aria said, staying close to Manic. She stared in awe at the glamour of the marble and gold, in awe of the beautiful architecture. The card tables they passed on their way to the slots were full of people and Arias eyes lit up. She had found the perfect drawing place. Thankfully the open bar tables were in perfect view of the card games.

“Actually.. Imma stay here. It's a great view!” She sat at a table by herself and started drawing. Rough sketches and such, to be used as inspiration for a painting. In her element. They left her as she ordered a water from a passing waitress and made small talk.

Scourge merely came along with Manic, watching the green one sit at a machine and leaning on the chair slightly. “So how do you play? Coin in slot and pull the lever?” "Yep, it ain't exactly a nuclear reactor over here." Manic shrugged, reaching into his wallet. "You kinda gotta choose lines to change your bet and all that, but that's pretty much what it comes down to." It looked like he had a lot of small bills ready. Actually, a LOT of small bills. He didn't stop at an ATM... not that Scourge knew of. Maybe he went when him and Aria were at the car. The machine quickly processed the bill, lighting up the vast number of lights decorating the machine even brighter than their neighboring companions. With a few presses of a button on the bottom of the machine, rows lit up between the slots. Manic happily wrapped his fingers around the head of the lever, giving it a swift pull and sending the wheels spinning. The various technicolor pictures soon stopped in a row, leading to what appeared to be some kind of a win, even if it was just enough to break even with the cost of a spin. "Ah, come on, don't give me that crap, machine!" Manic said in jest, giving it another spin. "So I'm guessing she's always looking for things to draw?" He asked as the wheels stopped again, appearing to break even again. Manic pressed the button to light up more of the rows and columns. "Trust me, I tried for a bit... there's a reason I don't any more." He said with a stupid grin. "Man, that kind of talent's... anyone can appreciate that." Scourge had seen the tip jar at the gig Manic had played, and didn’t question the small bills. He watched the spinning lights with hidden enthusiasm. "It does seem rather simple. I can see why people come here… Did you know that casinos are designed with no clocks and no windows to trick you into staying longer? Always thought it was fascinating…”

He raised a brow at the second win but said nothing, lest he break a streak. At Manic's question, he turned to look at Aria. Odd, she was still talking to the waitress. Laughing. She had actually put her pencil down.

“Weird… You’re right, she’s always one to draw what she can.. She sees the world through an artists vision. Occasionally that’s a bad thing, she’s a little naive. But she’s never not looked at the world like that. I think it’s a coping habit… But she doesn’t usually talk to people while she’s working unless she likes them…”

The waitress left and came back with a purse and a jacket on, sitting at the table and looking as Aria drew. The hedgie's view had switched from the tables to the girl beside her.

“…or they’re flirting with her and she just thinks they're being friendly.” Manic really wasn't winning much, but he wasn't losing much, either. Maybe he was hoping for a little thrill, but with one friend taking a break to sketch and another just watching how slow machines worked, it didn't really have the same kind of thrill. It was one thing to be with someone reveling int he same kind of excitement, but alone? It didn't carry too much of a thrill. He wouldn't let it, either. He had enough issues without bringing gambling into it. "I guess it does make sense. She's always drawn, she's always had an interest in drawing. It just makes sense you're going to look at things in an artsy way, like when the making gives you a bell at the WRONG TIME." He feigned annoyance, it was just some stupid fun. "Seriously, though, I get it. When everything's gone to crap, sometimes you've just gotta polish a turd and call it pretty enough. Besides, she's pretty clearly-" Manic pretended to stumble in his seat and push the lever, instead of just stopping his sentence. It have him time to think of a better retort than his obvious response. "She's clearly kind of working in a crappy place, you know? Gotta take what you can." The wheels stopped again, blinging and making all kinds of flash sounds at a small win. "You- That was kind of a stupid cover, wasn't it?" They both knew what he was originally going to talk about. "Yeah, that's... I dunno what all that meant, but I know she's seen a ton. You kind of have to take what you can, you know? People deal with trauma in all kinds of bad ways, but she's taking it... really well, I guess." He looked away from the machine, things having gotten heavier than he expected. "I'm almost jealous of how... healthily she seems to be taking it all." "That was an awful cover. But you’re right, on both counts. She’s had a lot to deal with in the past, and she’s stuck in a shitty place now… And what’s she’s doing isn’t healthy. She’s bottling it up as best she can because she doesn’t like people knowing her business. Her anxiety is bad. So are her nightmares. She refuses to take help or see a therapist. All in all, she holds up well from a distance, which is the line you crossed about three hours ago. Once you start looking closer you start to see all the toll her trauma has taken. And let’s just say that the events you think you know were far worse than you can imagine… I for sure can’t, and I know the whole story.”

He watched Aria check her phone and excuse herself from the pretty girl to take a call. From someone who she was speaking to in a language that Manic wouldn’t recognize. The conversation grew heated, and Aria held the phone away from her ear as if she was being yelled at.

Scourge growled. Deep, throaty, and protective. Stopping once he realized he was doing it. “Sorry. Just.. That’s her brother, the only sibling left alive. He’s a bastard. Wanted nothing to do with her from the age of zero to about 18. When he didn’t have to legally support her anymore. If he wasn’t half a world away I’d beat him senseless.” Hearing this much about Aria all at once wasn't what Manic expected, and it certainly what he wanted to hear. But he listened. He listened to each word intently, playing less attention to the machine he was playing and barely pulling half as much. He knew things were going to get real if they kept talking about her, he didn't expect them to get half as real as they did. But he listened anyways, wondering what he could say to stop there from being some kind of an uncomfortable silence. Although he didn't want to share his own stories, so he said nothing. The call from Aria's brother wasn't what he expected, but it gave him a chance. "I mean, I don't know what that'd be like, but trust me - I know shitty brothers." He let out a laugh, and help up one hand as he spoke making simple gestures. "Now my sister? She's a snob, but the GOOD kinda snob. She's the kind of snob that donates to charity and gives thoughtful cards and good hugs. She's ace. But him?" Manic let out a laugh more for effect than any kind of humor. "He didn't like this one guy I used to date, and now he acts like the gatekeeper to my genitals or summat. Anyone sneezes near me, he needs their name and occupation and favorite shade of brown." He exhaled. "Which kinda sucks, because he's actually really talented? Yeah, like, he's a really good athlete and- well, just a great athlete, I guess." He stopped short of actually saying 'agent.' "But like, REALLY great. Shame he ain't half as talented with shutting his mouth." Manic gave Scourge one more sassy glance. "You think I could get a recording of that growl?" Manic joked. "I need a ringtone for him." Scourge laughed a bit nodding. "Sure thing. Hell, I’ll even go out of my way to freak him out of you want. I enjoy messing with people and being petty when they deserve it… But your sister sounds nice at least, and it sounds like she’d be the type to not care about who you were with so long as you were happy. But my advice is to not bring your brother around here. Alternates of the Blue Blur aren’t usually welcomed in this zone.”

He watched the wheels spinning, eyes flicking up to look at Aria every so often. When she hung up, he made a move to go check on her, but stopped.

“I’ll ask her if she’s okay later. She’s kind of mad at me right now anyways… Besides, I think the short stack finally got the hint.” He gestured to Aria's table, drawing Manic's attention to the now very blushy hedgehog and the very flirty squirrel she was talking to. He had to stop with his little games to turn around and watch her try and figure out a way to squirm out of the situation. "Ooooh my wow, I wanna get a picture of this, but she'd probably steal my phone, too." He couldn't help but keep peaking over his shoulders while still continuing to pull the lever, waiting for a chance. "Oh my god, ain't that the worst? I remember when I was- Aaah, you get the story already, I've been there." He glared at Scourge. "Besides, it's always fun to see just how flirty you can get before someone realizes it." "And trust me, no one can keep Sonic in line, messing with him'd be bad news." Manic said, just a bit surprised he knew his brother's name. "He hates Scourges. He sees you helping me, he's gonna try and fuck you up. And he don't give up easy." He looked back to the machine, some frustration getting through his acting. "Hm... Usually, I just jump out when I've got some kinda profit..." He'd won about fifty dollars at this point, more than he'd honestly expected. "Cause once you've started winning, you wanna stop. But I guess if tonight's all about making dumb choices..." He quickly rammed some of the buttons, until the bet was up to all fifty dollars. He leaned away from Scourge, motioning towards the lever. "Wanna give it a pull?" Aria seemed to be flushed but enjoying herself, laughing and giggling at the others jokes. Something was written in her sketchbook and she received a kiss on the cheek before the other left. Aria just watched her go, flustered and a little shocked. She eventually returned to drawing

"I was never that kind of a guy. My wif- … My version of Fiona wore the flirty pants in our relationship. I was so smitten it didn’t matter though. Either way, I think that may have been Aria's first serious flirt.”

Did he almost say wife? They got MARRIED? Suddenly Scourge's story got a lot more complicated than expected. His ears dropped a little. “Your brother will be putting himself in danger if he comes here. Everything is backwards from what you know."

He shook his head no when Manic offered the pull. "Nah, its your money” Manic wasn't surprised to hear that Fiona was his wife. Even through the many layers of terrible people Scourges were, they almost always had a Fiona by their side. And he wasn't surprised to hear the word 'was.' All the remaining Scourges had gone through horrible breakups somehow and sometimes one of them disappearing entirely. He wasn't even too surprised to hear that Aria had hit on Scourge, Manic certainly couldn't judge. What surprised him was just how hesitant he was about it. But heavy questions got heavy answers, and tonight was supposed to be fun and happy, even if conversation after conversation brought troubling questions for Manic. "You sure?" Manic said, moving back towards the machine. "Alright, if you say so." He didn't actually pull the lever, instead changing his bet to something lighter before making a few final spins. "You've been kind of edgy all night, dude." Manic said. "You doing good? You wanna talk about something that's, like... not deeply personal and terrifying?" He didn't use his normal over-the-top sassy grin, but the smirk was still there. "Unfortunately not. Seems like most of the conversations tonight have been deeply personal. Either way, at least the food and company are good. Speaking of company..”

Aria walked over to the boys, having collected her things. Still a blushing mess and hiding her face behind her hair.

“Heya munchkin. How's it going?” He feigned innocence, as if the boys hadn’t been watching her little romantic interaction.

“That was, I think, the first time I have ever flirted with someone. How do you two do it without getting all red?? Did I do something wrong?” She covered her face, which was almost as red as her hair. Scourge merely chuckled and patted her head.

“If ya made her laugh and you got her number, you did just fine. And looking like a tomato is part of the process. You get all your stuff off the table?”

Aria nodded quietly, still very embarrassed. Watching the wheels on the machine turn. The lights lit up and bells rung from a win on Manic's machine and she jumped a little, not expecting it. "Okay, alright, I think I've pushed my luck faaar enough!" Manic said, looking away from the machine victorious. "Like, I wasn't expecting to even get this far, let's get this baby cashed before I get even greedier." He pounded a button on the console, printing a small ticket from the top. Manic usually stopped at winning less, or if he was on a definite losing streak. But Scourge's company had made him want to draw it out a bit more. Eighty bucks wasn't too much, but given he was playing small bills machines, he was more than lucky to have his victory. "So what, are you just gonna leave us hanging?" Manic said, prying his nose into yet another life he shouldn't have been privy to. "So what's her name? What's she like?" He leaned over on the console, his elbow pressed against the buttons making the machine command him to put in payment first. "We ain't gonna tell anyone, I'm just being a snoop." Satisfied with his smarmy little nothing, he stood up. "Let's go and get this cashed. And while we're going over there... How'd your sketch turn out?" Aria blushed heavily, squeaking as they walked over to the place to cash up Manic's winning ticket. She tugged on her ears nervously.

"Terra. She’s really nice and super kind… She doesn’t work here normally, she’s covering for a friend.” She blushed heavily and squeaked more. Looked like she’s gonna be blushy all night.

“The sketch turned out okay. I’m gonna make a painting out of it.” She insisted, watching Manic get paid for his ticket. “Where now?”

Scourge motioned to the exit. “Why don’t we go see the shops then? Maybe you can buy something for your girlfriend?” He teased Aria, ruffling her hair. "Come on, if you're gonna have an ambiguous girlfriend, you need to be ambiguously generous! You said you wanted to go there after, right?" Manic said. He was almost sad to leave the dread-tinged casino atmosphere, but he was used to the crappy downtown casinos that were simple organized crime fronts. Aria did not know she was being flirted with. It was probably best to get her out of there. "Hold on a sec," Manic said as he let the two take the lead on the short walk. He turned his phone back on. Three missed calls from Sonic and a few robocalls. Pretty much what he expected. "Voila! More nonsense!" Manic announced, but he reveled in nonsense. Many of the stores were large but mostly empty designer labels, supposed to give off the illusion of glamour the city promised. Of course, there were many other overpriced stores hoping to cash in on rich tourists and the occasional lucky gambler. Strangely many nice stores. Jewelry shops, art galleries, even a rare books store. There were much mroe affordable stores further away, but it was no coincidence all of the high-end shops were close to the casino. "Dang," Manic said, looking at his grand prize of about eighty bucks. "I could buy, like, half of a shoe here." Aria's blush only worsened from that comment. Once they got the full effect of the shopping district, Aria's eyes lit up, so many of her favorite things in one place! Books, art, and even a live band! She was just so excited she barely noticed Manic step away.

Scourge did and raised and eyebrow at the cell. Since Aria was distracted he turned to Manic quietly. "Being harassed by the cockblock king?” He joked. Turning back to look at Aria, he realized she had walked away.

“Shit… Where did she go?” He looked around from the smaller red headed female, catching her walking into a book store. “Guess she's decided where she wants to go. You coming or do you need a minute?”

Aria meanwhile, had walked in and was talking to the owner about rare books, specifically old, handwritten ones in dead languages. "Eh, he's not being pissy anymore." Manic shoved his phone back into his pocket. "Yeah, I'm coming." It wasn't a large store, but it made good use of the space it had. A nice healthy number of shelves, some nearer the back locked being glass screens. It was all warm woods and elegant whites in the standard modern geometric design of the area meant to invoke luxury. It was clear that everything in this store was meant to be handled gently, and with Manic's penchant for ruining things in these kinds of places, he wasn't about to go touching anything. He still gave in to his curiosity by taking his time glancing over the names of the various books. Embossed and engraved in elegant scripts on many types of binding material. Manic didn't bother looking at the price tags, he knew he couldn't afford most of these things. Not that he was much of a reader, anyways. It was more Aria's interest in dead languages and handwritten books that kept most of Manic's attention, as he listened from a distance. "Well my dear, we usually don’t get such enthusiastic readers here, especially not ones who know exactly what they want. The section you want is over here. ”

The old man used his cane to gesture to a section and he walked them over to it. Aria scanned them quickly, pulling one or two and reading them. She finally found one, a small red book weathered with age. She started reading it, smiling fondly.

“How much is this one?” She asked, checking for a price. Ears dropping. Far too expensive. “Never mind. Can’t afford the luxury”. She sighed and put it back. She went to another shelf and Scourge took the book down, checking the price. Relatively inexpensive, less than $50. He raised a brow and showed it to Manic too before looking at the direction she had left in. Scourge turned to the owner. “Mind if I get this?”

The owner cashed up the purchase using an antique machine and Scourge paid with bills. He then pulled Aria off to the side, where Manic could hear and see through the book on the shelf.

“Here. This is your birthday present. But this is a present with baggage. You gotta let me help you out a little bit more.” Scourge held out the book and Aria lit up until he explained his claims.

“Scourge no. I can handle myself. I’m just… Tight on cash.” She took the book anyways. Hugging it close to her chest.

Scourge voice got a little lower, a little more protective. “Bullshit. You’ve been tight on cash before. But you’ve always had food. Now you’re squirreling things away, just like you did when you were on the street. Are you even making rent?!”

“Yes!… ” she declared, and after a look Manic couldn't catch, her ears dropped and she cuddled her book again. “… For this month.” Squirreling food away? He hadn't assumed it was anything more than taking some leftovers, was this normal? Clearly not, judging by what Scourge was saying. He hadn't realized just how poor she was. Living in a crappy apartment, working a crappy job? That had been Manic for years, even with himself buying little luxuries to keep himself happy with stolen money. But he was happy, and healthy. This was clearly neither. And then he hatched a plan. A plan neither of them would be happy with if they knew the details, but a plan nonetheless. He wasn't going to see Aria this poor, and he'd make sure they didn't know he was interloping. With a press of a button on his key, a tiny red LED started flashing. Manic walked up and spoke as if he hadn't heard a thing, holding up the key for show. "Uh, guys, the van's panic alarm's going off. I'mma be right back, just making sure everything's alright." He didn't even give them a chance to agree to come along. He rushed outside, running towards where they parked... and turned off the alarm with his key. How long would seem natural, like he actually went to the car? And would Scourge call him out after all of his excuses? For now, it didn't matter. He started a casual walk past nothing, pretending to take in the sights as his hands danced in and out of pedestrian's pockets. Not the whole wallet, of course, just taking the cash and slipping it back. He didn't even think about it, the muscle memory of thievery burned into his limbs. Aria looked to Manic as he walked in on their private conversation, surprised at the flashing lights on the key ring. "Okay, be careful. There’s probably plenty of car thieves around here.”

When he left they returned to their quiet squabble over money. Aria eventually leaving the store with the green hedgehog in tow and the rage of the argument being continued outside.

“Scourge I’m not a little girl on the street. I have things that I can sell to make up the difference!” She turned on her heel to face him, fuming.

“Like what, your body? Cause I know you won’t sell your books or anything else you own!” He challenged, then immediately regretted it. Dodging Aria's sudden punch and grabbing her by the wrist to stop her from throwing any more. He was clearly unamused.

Aria tore her wrist away and stormed off in the direction of the van, going to catch up with Manic. Scourge waited a bit, then followed. The couldn't see Manic yet, but they knew where he was going. It shouldn't have been a long walk, but tense nerves made it almost unbearable. Soon enough, they ended up back at the van... ...and Manic wasn't there. Neither was any kind of car thief, or damage, or anything. Down the streets leading up towards the casino, they could just barely make out Manic's ridiculous fringe and his casual strut walking down towards the shopping area, and turning on his feet the moment he reached the corner. Why was he going back? Whatever the reason was, the car alarm was clearly some kind of lie. And just from Scourge's vantage point, he could start to notice that Manic was running into the coats and purses of a lot of the people he was passing by. Was he safe? Yeah, he should have been safe right up ahead. He ducked into some coffee shop, sitting down far in the corner and pulling out the wads of loose bills he had, sorting them out quickly and anxiously. He didn't have time to waste, they were bound to get suspicious any moment now. Aria looked around. Anxiety getting the best of her. “Where did he go?” She asked, scanning the crowd, nervously.

Scourge inspected the van for marks but found nothing. “The van is safe. Calm down, I’m sure we can find him..” He scanned the crowds and spotted the other. “I think he’s a little too tipsy. He’s running into everyone.”

Aria had hopped up on a box in the alleyway, now about Scourge's height and able to see Manic. “No, he’s walking normally… Maybe our fight put him in a bad mood? Come on let’s follow him.” Scourge helped her down from the box and the two walked off towards the coffee shop.

They saw a few people check around for something on the ground, or pat their pockets. Several wondering where their money had gotten off to. Aria gripped her book and purse tighter. “Thieves in this area by the looks of it.”

They reached the coffee shop but Manic had already left, and Scourge scanned the crowd again. There wasn't much surprised that Manic was going towards the book store again. Scourge couldn't see beyond the corner of the shopping district, but he was only gone for a few minutes and he said he would be right back, he didn't have any reason to go or think they would be anywhere else. What did surprise was the sound of some car alarm going off again. Was Manic pulling this crap again for whatever reason? Scourge and Manic collided with one another on the street corner, fumbling back and stopping short of falling over. "Scourge!" Manic shouted, almost frightened to see him. Especially coming from the direction of the coffee shop, what else had he seen? There was a tinge of genuine fear to Manic's voice. This fear was soon shoved aside for simple anxiety. "Dude, were you just over there?" Manic said, pointing towards the lot. The key clutched in his hand was blinking again. "My alarm's going off again." He could see some level of distrust in Scourge's eyes. He must have pieced together that the first was a fake. "Look, for real, this time! I dunno what you're angry about, but it's gotta wait." Aria helped the boys up, then took off running towards the car when Manic explained himself. She had more of an idea of what Manic had been doing, but wasn’t gonna say anything.

Scourge tried to calm Manic down and took off, a little confused but full on ready for a fight. He couldn’t use his super speed in the city, she he just had to settle with faster than an average person.

Aria had gotten to the lot first and got defensive, looking around for what caused the alarm. Her class were out and her quills were standing straight, more prickly. Scourge approached from the opposite side. They both saw him at the same time. Some brand new, very expensive shoes that left a clean shoe print on Manic's tires after a firm kick. An old letterman jacket he wore for appearances rather than any kind of alma matter. And most importantly, a head of carefully sharpened, aerodynamic blue quills. "I knew it," Sonic said, stepping back towards Aria as he saw Scourge walk around from the side of the van. Manic was right behind him, half-expecting to see Sonic here. "Aria doesn't exist, you've just been dating again." "Shut the fuck up, Sonic!" Manic yelled. "We ain't dating, and Aria's right behind you. Can't I have, like, FRIENDS?! I'm not a slut over here, can't I just have a night without you trying to protect me from shit-all?!" Sonic grabbed Manic's arm, and stared him right in the eye. "I know what you're like, I'm your brother, and I know-" "No you DON'T!" Manic reached his hand around Sonic's head, giving a harsh tug on his sensitive quills. He pushed him to the ground, continuing to pull back on them as though he was trying to remove them. "You don't know ANYTHING about me, or anything about not being an ass! Is that good?! Is that 'going easy' on you?!" Sonic was desperately trying to scratch back at Manic and get him to loosen his grip - with M anic standing on his legs, he couldn't use his normal speed to his advantage. The screams he made told them this wasn't just having their hair tugged, this was some kind of deep, visceral pain. Scourge wasn't surprised to see the Sonic alternate that Manic called his brother here. He had a feeling he would show up eventually. If Manic hadn’t stepped between him and Sonic, Scourge would have hit him by now. When the two started to fight, Scourge almost stepped in until he realized Manic was on top.

Aria meanwhile, had lost her bravado when she saw it was a Sonic alternate, instead backing away slowly. She was terrified. But when Sonic grabbed Manic and claimed that he knew the musician, she got angry. Projecting her feelings for her own brother onto the similar situation in front of her.

So when Sonic managed to get out from under Manic and out of arms reach, he wouldn’t have expected Aria's sudden tackle from behind. She knocked the other face first into the ground and pinned him down with her knees, pulling roughly on his quills and ‘accidentally’ smashing his face into the pavement once or twice.

“This is what happens when you mess with my friends, in my zone!” She exclaimed, tugging a little harder.

Scourge was checking on Manic, worried about the other green hedgehog. “You alright?” "Yeah, I'll be fine." Manic said, shaking his hand to try and let off some of the sting from touching Sonic's quills. They were tiny pricks in his hand, but still large enough to be annoying. He grabbed Scourge's arm as he stood up again, turning around to watch Aria beating down on Sonic. Every hard tug at his quills lead to him screaming out again and calling uncle, begging to be released. A small crowd had started to form on the edge of the parking lot. "Alright, let go of him, we're good." Manic knelt down and pulled Sonic up to his feet, now visibly bruised and hurt. He was still angry, but clearly not in any position to fight again. "What the hell are you thinking, this is an anti Mobius! Don't you know not to come to these places, ain't I supposed to be the simple one here?" "Yeah, you're being real smart, bro." He spat out, seemingly realizing some amount of defeat. "You're not any safer in these places, don't you know not to hang out with Scourges?" "It's just a friend! It's Ari's birthday, we're just hanging out with her friends, what are you trying to stop?" "I'm stopping you from dating ANOTHER Scourge, kid!" Manic didn't say something immediately. Actually, he took a subtle step forward, something he knew meant Manic was trying to hide some kind of anxiety. Did this Scourge not know that yet? The small crowd cheered as Aria beat him senseless, the hatred for Sonics rampant through the people of this world. She got off, satisfied with her actions as she rubbed the sting out of her hands.

The crowd dispersed as the fight ended and Manic picked his brother up. Aria's growl was low and quiet in the background. “Actually Blue balls, in this town, you’re the bad guy. So watch your tongue.”

At the sudden revaluation of Manic's dating history, Scourge didn’t bat an eye, merely stepped up between the two and grabbed Sonic by the front of his jacket, lifting him off the ground. Scourge was taller, stronger and older than this version of Sonic, and held a more dangerous attitude.

“Listen up buddy. You’d better start treating your brother with a little more respect, lest you get me angry. Now I’m going to put you down, and you’re gonna apologize and ease off being such a fucking voyeur on Manic's life, or Imma give you back to the little red head, and we’re gonna see how badly getting those sensitive little quills cut hurts you, okay?”

Arias claws came out and she inspected them, making sure they were sharp. “Hell, if we film and sell it, we could make a fortune,” she mused. The look she gave Manic, one that Sonic couldn’t see, indicated that this was all for show. There were many feelings going through Manic's mind the moment Scourge picked Sonic up off the ground. Dread that he was going to get his face broken in. Terror that Scourge would flip at the news. Impatience as he waited for whatever threat he would deal out. And some form of strange relief as Aria got her claws out again. Sonic was dropped to the ground, visibly confused at pretty much everything the two had said. At its core, Sonic was still getting beaten up by a Scourge Manic was hanging with, and he knew that this would reign heavier in his mind than Scourge actually being good. Every action had told him that much, yet some shred of stubbornness in his mind would still keep it from sinking in. Manic just glared back at Sonic, his body language saying that he would never her the end of this. It was a deafeningly silent wait. "Jet." Manic said when he realized Sonic wasn't going to get out an apology, pointing his thumb behind him towards the street. "Bro, hear me out-" Another shove back at Sonic. They stood around for a moment and stared, before Sonic realized Manic didn't even want an apology, revved up to his usual speed, and hobbled down some back roads out of the city. Manic took a deep breath, running his hands through his large fringe as he calmed himself down. He was feeling just as many mixed emotions as his brother. "Thanks," Manic said genuinely, finally allowing anxiety to enter his voice. "What... have they done here, anyways?" The second the blue blur was out of the way, Aria walked over to Manic, checking him over with motherly concern. “You’re not hurt are you?” She asked, checking his hands and face.

Scourge looked like he was ready to sucker punch something, but calmed back down into the relaxed person he was before the night had taken its sharp turn. Manic's question was met with a tense Aria and a silent Scourge.

“I wouldn’t worry about it, Manic. It's a long story. I think I should get you and Aria home. You’ve both had far too much excitement tonight.”

“I agree. I think I can make us a big enough warp to get us and the van home,” Aria insisted. Manic was on board with all of the concern and attention for a while, and was even fine with the tense reactions to his question. If Scourges were the good guys here, were Sonics their equivalent of the real Scourges? It was an odd logic that made surprising sense to him. And then Aria mentioned warping. "You can make-?! Uh, Ari, but I'm still not completely fine this all this warping stuff. It ain't- There are crimes you just don't mess with, you know." He crossed his arms, looking down at the ground. "I dunno... Is in-zone warping not the same kind of crime? Zone jail ain't nothing I want to mess with." But hell, Scourge evidently warped all over the place, and he was supposed to be the good guy in this place. "Eh- Eh, I guess it's fine." He stepped towards the van, leaning against the side and sighing heavily.. "I'm sorry, guys. I just wanted to show you guys a fun night." Aria nodded to Manic's questions. “Don’t worry. Scourge and I have in-zone warping clearance. But I do mine differently.”

Scourge put his hand on his friend's shoulder “Well I for one had fun… Until the end that is.. Uh.. Maybe you two should stay at my place tonight just in case Sonic tries something?”

“Good plan. Now, get in the car boys.” Aria insisted, standing behind the van.

"Let’s go home." Manic climbed into the car again, sitting in the front seat again. Maybe he wanted to object about Sonic. Sonic got angry at Manic, he didn't like to physically fight them. He knew when to run from battles. He was figuring out that this wasn't the zone for him. There were many, many things that Manic could have said to object to needing to be safe from Sonic. Yet he didn't dwell on any of it specifically. "Sonic ain't gonna hunt us out, we're gonna be fine. Unless you mean-" No, he already brought up this zone's Sonic, and that was another of many sore wounds. "Eh, forget it. I didn't want a heavy night, but I guess that's what we're stuck with." He turned towards Scourge and smiled, like he was finding some scrap of enjoyment in all the nonsense that was going on. But things were starting to get better with Scourge. He knew the worst of it, they were getting more comfortable around one another, they were hopefully going to be alright. But when Manic looked out the window at Aria, he had to move away. He'd seen warp rings being used before, and he never dealt with that nonsense. Seeing a warp being summoned without that kind of assistance was completely different. And seeing one of this size was... terrifying. It felt like this should have been impossible. His eyes were wide, his mouth virtually to the ground. “There’s alcohol at my place, I intend to drink some of it. You’re both free to join me.” Scourge commented, stretching out.

Aria backed up, estimating size of the van. Backing up, she turned with her back to the van and pulled out her claws. She started scratching at nothing until the air just… Ripped apart. Through the rip Manic could see the swirling colors of a portal.

She started pulling at the edges until it was wide enough to fit the van. She hopped through and then came back, motioning for Manic to drive through.

She had the other end of the portal drop them off on the driveway of the castle. The perfect parking spot. Manic was more than cautious about heading through a warp, not quite knowing what to expect. Some strange hyperspace? A mess of swirling colors and sparked as they traversed a long distance? In fact, it wasn't anything that grand. The moment he passed through the portal, he was simply... there. Outside the castle, no drama, no sparkles or flashy lights, no nothing. It didn't feel right at all, because it simply wasn't. It was a rip in reality, by the looks of it, it wasn't going to feel right no matter what it was. He was grateful that the parking spot was right where he exited the portal, he wanted to get out of the car immediately and get used to the idea of what just happened. While he stepped out of the drivers seat, he shook his head and put on a smile. "Was that it? Like, where are all the bad special effects and laser light shows?" He stared up at the castle. Again, these weren't the imposing anti Mobius castles he'd seen before, this was just a castle. Rather normal (at least, as normal as a castle could be) with no tinge of bad intentions or dread. He'd maybe encountered a good Scourge once or twice before, but he never got chummy with them. "So where's the booze, mate?" “Sadly my dear Manic, I’m not a warp ring. The fancy bits that are added into those things aren’t something I can do. Do I look like a rave?” She joked, grabbing her stuff from the car.

“The booze is inside Manic, let’s go.” Scourge insisted and they walked up to the large building. Scourge unlocked the door and they entered the green hedgehog's home.

The entryway was classy, marble floors and old stone walls. They were lead to a living area, a room with an open bar, a pool table, a TV and a small selection of books.

“Make yourselves at home,” he insisted, and Aria kicked off her shoes and faceplanted into the soft couch, purring quietly. Once again, a pleasant, lovely room. The alcohol certainly helped with Manic's opinion in that regard, even if he would have like it without the open bar. Manic was just happy that he was starting to trust this Scourge. He was pleasant to be around, a good friend, with a bit of a heart for adventure. Clearly damaged in some way, but coming out of it with some amount of decency. Just like his old Scourge... Manic crammed that aside and walked up to the bar, happy to see some selection of drinks that weren't probably twelve dollars an ounce. He wasn't the kind of expert bartender Aria was by a long shot, but he knew how to make a few good drinks when he wasn't drinking cheap, over sweetened alcohol from the bottle. A little orange juice, a little vodka, a few little touches, a simple harvey wallbanger. Nothing grand, but good enough. Aria seemed like she was planted into the couch quite comfortably, her purse discarded mindlessly. He wasn't going to have a chance just yet. "Hey, you guys want anything while I'm over here?" On the bookshelf, easily viewed from the bar, was a picture of a much younger Scourge. In this photo he was still blue, his old leather jacket that he had just taken off was brand new, and there was a Fiona alternate in his arms. It was a heartwarming photo. Scourge looked so happy. In another photo next to it, a younger Aria covered with paint as she worked on a large scale canvas, oblivious to the camera. Happy memories, at least 10 years old.

Scourge was laying in the armchair next to the couch, loosening the bandages wrapped around his chest a little. He had his eyes closed and his feet up on the ottoman, relaxed. “I’ll just take whatever you’re making. Bring the sugar vodka for aria, I think she needs it.”

Aria just gave a thumbs up from her place on the couch. There was still an open loveseat next to Scourge or another armchair next to Aria for Manic to choose. "Yoooou got it," Manic said back. His glances kept turning towards those photos. It was nice to finally see some more generally happy sides to these two after such a dour night. It would have been nice to see Fiona here being all schmoopy with Scourge, or to see Aria getting really passionate about painting once again. But any kind of happiness was fine, even just three friends sitting around drinking and being exhausted. It wasn't a hard drink to make a second of. A few ingredients crammed together and shaken up, not rocket science. And by the looks of its position on the shelves of bottles, sugar vodka was drunk regularly in this place. Not that Manic was going to judge. The trashier and more intensely sweet or flavored, the more Manic would usually like it. Where to sit? Well, Aria looked like she was virtually conked out for the night, and Scourge was likely to have some questions or concerns for Manic after everything that happened. He might as well go for the more awkward conversation and get it out of the way, he thought. So he left Aria her bottle of sugar water and gave Scourge his golden-orange drink. Manic slunked down into the armchair, FINALLY getting a chance to relax. "You guys wanna watch anything, or just hang out and get drunk?" There were more photos around the room, mostly of Ari, Acourge and their friends. Odd, only one of Fiona or really anyone who seemed to be romantically involved with Scourge.

Aria picked up the bottle and rolled over, undoing the top and drinking right from the source. She swallowed and set it down, waiting for the fuzziness of intoxication to set in. She wrapped herself up in a blanket and leaned on the armrest.

“Thanks.” Scourge sipped at his drink and clicked a button on a remote that lit up the fireplace. Both hedgies shook their heads, fine with just alcohol and the flames.

“You feeling okay?” He asked Manic, concerned. Manic started to drink the moment Scourge started to speak, and drew out his sip just a bit longer than usual. Not just to think of an answer, but to get some more alcohol in his system. A lot had already happened, and he didn't want to keep feeling tense. "Nah, just- Just still kinda tense, you know?" He leaned back in his seat and let the flames warm him up as he relaxed. "But the worst of it's over. Sonic's gonna head back home and vent to his guy friends, we ain't in any danger." He exhaled heavily. The alcohol was starting to mix with the fire and keep him comfortably warm. "I guess we've both got a ton of questions," Manic said, looking down. "Any answers you need now... or do you wanna let it pass?" He took another sip, not entirely sure which response he'd prefer. “No questions come to mind. At least, no questions that are any of my business…. Did you wanna ask me something… Or talk about anything?” Scourge continued to sip st his drink.

Aria scooted over to their side of the couch with her vodka. She drank some and listened into the conversation. She didn’t say anything though, just watched them talk. Her purse was left unattended. If Manic needed to grab Aria's purse he could do it now.

“Is this only questions relevant to tonight or just in general because I wanna knew how doorknobs were invented." Manic let out a weak chuckle at Aria's joke, smiling for a few moments before fizzling back down to his serious expression. Not the serious of some kind of government agent tasked with protecting their leader, but serious in a more self-reflective kind of way. All those Scourges he'd so much as heard about, let along the ones he'd known hadn't prepared him for someone like this. And being slightly delirious from how late it was and slightly tipsy, Manic wasn't able to focus on anything other than his thoughts when nothing was going on. He didn't even care about her purse anymore. He'd just have to be careful with what he asked. What didn't seem to open a wound? What could he ask that he could likely get a straight answer out of? "Uh, when you went to threaten Sonic, you only moved in after he talked about my old boyfriends." He started rubbing his hands together. "Did Aria... already tell you about that?" He paused, before finding some speck of humor to ease himself at least a little. "Or did I get drunk and text you, and I just don't remember it?" “No, nobody told me anything. But I know that older brothers like that need to be put in their place, that bringing up past relationships can hurt. You’d been hurt by a Scourge in some way and that you clearly were uncomfortable when he brought it up. So I stepped in to give you some breathing room.”

Aria downed a little more alcohol and listened to the story. Snuggling up tightly in her blankets. “N’ I hit him cause he was being a dick… Nobody messes wit’ ma’ friends…” She slurred a little. She had just downed half a bottle of vodka after all.

Scourge patted her head “Yes yes. I’m very proud of you for standing up to a Sonic. Go drink your alcohol.”

“Okiiiii.” Manic just smiled at the drunken Aria. "See, that's how I was planning on spending tonight anyways." He made a silly face and raised his glass as though he was giving a toast, and gave another drink. When he put it down he was smiling genuinely. There wasn't the same heaviness that there was just moments before. "Honestly, I was kinda worried you'd flip," he said with a smile. "Maybe I just need to stop listening to everything he says about Scourges?" He knew he still had to... for the most part. But This clearly wasn't another Scourge in the garbage pile, he was just Scourge. The same thought he would give to any halfway-acceptable Scourge he would meet. "Honestly, though? As much as I rag on them... you're completely wrong." He looked down at the ground, and smiled a glowing, reminiscent smile. "Yeah, he was a Scourge, but he didn't hurt me. He was a butthead, yeah, but that's just how every normal Scourge is." He fidgeted with his hand, toying with a tiny plastic ring. "This thing here was just something he gave me when we were trying to piss off Sonic. Man, we had so many dumb schemes! He got it. He was... the best lover I could ever hope for." Aria met his toast with a swing of her own. Scourge sipped at his drink. Someone had to put Aria to bed after she passed out. Scourge smiled softly at the look in Manic's eyes, remembering when he had the same one. Aria was a lot less graceful and merely slurred her words

“Awwwww. Someone’s in love~” she teased, giggling. Scourge merely watched her passing through the stages of being drunk.

“If she starts speaking another language, we cut her off,” he whispered to Manic, playfully, returning to the more peaceful topic.

“This guy sounds like a riot. And she’s right, you care about him a lot. Its… Refreshing to see someone speak so highly of one of my alternates.” He patted Manic on the shoulder and took another drink. "Then trust me," Manic started, "you should be reeeeal glad you handled my brother. I got some crap with Scourges, but he's got ALL the crap with Scourges." He just smiled and brushed his hair back, realizing he was a bit more drunk than he thought he was. He'd forgotten about the wine he drank earlier, evidently. "I dunno, you know there are all kinds of horror stories about 'em. Just back in my home city, there are all these stories of this one purple Scourge who just- Just the worst, in every way. I try not to be too closed minded about it." He smiled and looked down, not worried about the ones who, to his knowledge, were just urban legends. "But friends trust friends, no matter what. You'd be surprised who you can meet through the right people... and the right drunken hedgehegs." Aria was still flopping about like a fish out of water who had just had a night out and was now relaxing at a friend's castle and getting drunk. Manic leaned over. "So how drunk we gotta get her before she cusses us out in ten different languages?" “Oh yeah, any that are purple are batshit insane. The beryl went to their heads. Incredibly powerful, incredibly dangerous. We’ve got similar legends. Except ours are of a sonic without pupils and glowing in black flame. That ain’t real though”

He chuckled at Manic's question and looked over at Aria. “As far as I know she only speaks two. And one of them is a dead language so I couldn’t tell you if she’s cursing… However if she wants to start snuggling up to you, then she’s full on blackout drunk.”

Aria mewled and looked over at her friend. “Are you talking shit about me?” She asked, trying to focus on Scourge. "Nah, dude, we're just shit talking you. Totally different," Manic assured. He normally would have walked over and wondered exactly how strong that sugary vodka was, but given that she drank about half the bottle, maybe it wasn't as strong as he suspected. Or she was just a heavy weight. Either way, he just needed to stay sober enough for a little longer. Not totally sober, though, since he was still drinking his half-empty drink. even as convenient as it would have been, Aria was still half awake and fully drunk, if he was going to hope for an honest answer from her about anything, it was going to be right now. So he swirled his drink in his hand for a moment, and thought. "Hey, Ari!" Manic asked, putting on a happy tone to try and lighten the question a bit. "Didn't you tell me you were strapped for cash a while back?" He lied. "Why'd you come along to a casino, anyways?" “Mkkay~” She slurred as Manic explained himself, scooting over on the couch. Scourge laughed, face getting just a little flushed from the alcohol. Aria laughed too, but for no reason.

When manic asked his question, Scourge's laughter stopped. He looked between the two, a little offended. “She told you? I had to figure it out on my own”

She crawled over the arm on the couch to reach across Scourge, booping Manic on the nose. “Silly hedgie… I ain’t broke.. My boss just isn’t paying me cause I won’t do what she wants,” she slurred some more, laying limp across the arm of the couch and Scourge's lap. The green hedgehog didn’t seem too uncomfortable with the sudden movements.

“B'sides my favorite green herghergs are here,” she purred, content. "Well then, start doing what she wants, dude!" Manic teased, hiding his genuine advice as some smarmy nothing. "We don't wanna see our favorite red horgharg going broke!" He ruffled Aria's hair again. Evidently, Scourge was at least used to Aria's brand of drunken shenanigans. Manic looked up at Scourge while Aria was distracted, mouthing 'I'll explain when she's asleep' and putting on a more serious face for that moment. "You sure that vodka ain't, like, ninety proof or summat?" Manic joked. "Cause you're looking really sloshed right now." Not much more than she was before, but now that she seemed to be trying to cuddle with Scourge, she was probably completely drunk by now. He could get her to go to bed to get some time to talk with Scourge, or... "Or do you want me to grab your sketchbook and stuff outta the van?" Her being asleep would be more convenient, but her making drunken pictures? THAT would be entertainment, no matter how it went. “Nmm… I don’t wanna… M'not a whore” she lisped a little, an accent of some kind slipping into her words. She purred more as Manic ruffled her quills.

Scourge was a little angry at Aria, but he didn’t let it bug him yet. That was for a sober Aria and Manic to explain later.

Manic was not safe from her affection either as she nuzzled into his hand. When he asked if she wanted a sketchbook, she nodded. “Yes please Manic~” she cooed.

She gulped down the rest of the vodka and snuggled up to Scourge. The green hedgie picked her up and set her down on the couch, cleaning up. Just a short walk to the van and back. No biggie. Manic was kind of tipsy, but he didn't get drunk easily. He was more of a heavyweight than his small body would suggest. 'M'not a whore.' That said many, many things a sober Aria would never have said. Even if they didn't like it, they had their answer. They had many challenges to try and work through with Aria, but they had a starting point, if nothing else. Aria was going to be very, very unhappy when she knew what they found out, but tonight, she was happy. Aria clearly needed all the happiness she could get, and if she loved drawing, bringing her her sketchbook was the least Manic could do. But he couldn't help but flip through some of the sketches. Once more, gorgeous linework on the casino sketch... at least, everything she could get down before being hit on. He flipped it open to a blank page - he wanted to see how Aria would paint it, and he didn't want it to be ruined because she was drunk. "Here you go, dude," Manic said as he handed it over. Scourge seemed somber, as Manic would expect. "I'mma bring your stuff to the front," Manic said, picking up her shoes and purse. He turned to Scourge, speaking slightly forcefully to get his intentions across. "Scourge, could you show me where the coat room or whatever is?" Aria squeaked happily, taking out her pencil and starting to draw with intense concentration. She almost appeared sober as she worked, clearly used to the artistic process while inebriated. Her small travel kit for painting was pulled out of her purse before Manic took it away and she mixed bright greens and blues and rich purples

Scourge led Manic away from the living room into a simple walk in closet beside the front door. Unlike the hallway, this room was drywalled and insulated. His hands were shaking with rage, and Manic would be able to see the flames in his eyes.

“That fucking bat!! I swear, next time I see her I’m gonna kill her! This has gone on for far too long! Fucking bitch can’t get laid on her own so she’s gotta pull this shit to get some!”

He punched the wall, frustrated. It broke the drywall, a large crack forming. That seemed to calm him down a fair amount. He sat on a bench and put his head in his hands, rubbing the bridge of his nose. He suddenly seemed much older than he was, the bags under his eyes a little more noticeable. Manic felt no less intensely than Scourge did, but he didn't know much of anything about Aria's employer. All he knew was Aria was in an awful situation. He didn't feel anger intensely, but intense sympathy. Years of anxiety had taught him how to act through his emotions, so he seemed to keep his head for Scourge's sake. "Dude... We've got an answer." Manic said, sitting down across the bench from Scourge. "Even as bad as things are, we've got some kind of answer. At least we know what's going on with her. We can come up with a plan, we're gonna make sure she's gonna be alright, okay?" He smirked for just a moment. "And if you wanna punch her out... let's wait til we get Aria to quit." Scourge had given him a glare when the two ran into one another. There were many things this could have meant, but in Manic's mind, it only meant he knew exactly what he was doing. So he swallowed his pride, and stood up to walk over to Aria's purse. "Friend's help friends, no matter what." He said, as he opened her purse and started to hide the many loose bills he'd pocketed at the bottom of her purse. "You won't tell Aria, got it?" Scourge popped his knuckles, growling. He was unhappy, angry and just generally annoyed. For Mani'cs sake, he calmed down. He looked up at the other as he watched him empty his pockets.

“Dude, let me sneak her cash instead. That’s your tip money and money from the casino. You earned that.”

Was he serious? Did Scourge not realize what Manic had been doing at the casino? The look in his eye said that he didn’t. He did take in the amount of small bills and looked up a little confused.

“Geez. Either the tippers weren't stingy or you’re secretly a stripper cause that is a whole lot of cash*

In the other room, Aria had finished an intense painting of the room she was in and got up. Drunk, she grabbed onto the couch to steady her spinning head. Then she walked in the direction the boys had left in.

"Scourge? Manic?” Manic's ears darted up as he heard Aria and hastily crammed the rest of the money to the bottom of her bag, shifting everything into essentially it's original position. How close was she?! Either way, Manic had a perfect opportunity to play this off. He peeked out the door to the room. Nowhere in sight. He closed it again, and spoke as softly as he could manage to Scourge with a level of determination, almost fury, to his voice. "I wasn't checking the car, I was getting a withdrawal." Manic said sternly, trying his best to make sure Aria wouldn't hear. "I heard what she said in that store, she needs every cent she can get, and I've got more than I look." He commanded quietly as he walked towards Scourge to make the severity of his sentiment obvious. "Friends help friends. No. Matter. What. Understand?" He looked up at the wall, and back at Scourge. The way he spoke was too severe, the situation was too severe, there was no reason he should have been pretending to be calm. "You ain't the best actor. You're still furious at her boss, aren't you?" Was Aria nearby? There wasn't any reason she would give up looking this soon after starting. "Aria's looking for us. Or... You not ready to talk to her yet?" Scourge was surprised, but put his hand on Manic's shoulder. "Then let me help you after this is all dealt with. You may not be broke, but you could use a little boost. And some decent cooking supplies..”

He followed Manic's eyes to the wall and sighed. “Let’s put it this way. If I was given the chance I’d shoot her dead and put my thumbprint on the bullet so they knew it was me. Aria is like my little sister, I’m supposed to protect her when she can’t do it herself. I just feel like I’ve failed her…” He looked up at Manic from his seated position.

“You’re a good person, you know that?” Scourge asked. “I mean, we barely know each other and you’re already helping her and you’re being so nice by taking her out and letting me tag along. You’re a rare breed Manic. One of a kind."

Aria herself was disoriented. "All the halls look the same in this castle” she slurred, walking down a random hall way. She patted a marble statue of a dog, absentmindedly as she came to a dead end. Aria was starting to get scared. Her anxiety rose and her drunk mind created people in the shadows, causing her to run as fast as she could, attempting to work her way back to the light of the living room.

“SCOURGE? MANIC?!?” Ahe sounded panicky. Where were the boys? "Uh..." Manic seemed almost bashful at the comment. He played it off as such, sure, but his own nerves were stopping him from taking the compliment at face value. It was still built around the fact that Manic was just well-off, without telling him HOW he was getting this money. It would be one thing if he needed to be in someone's good graces for just long enough to finish a job. But Scourge wasn't just some schlub, and if he was going to keep hanging out with him, he was going to have to find out sooner or later. There was a genuine embarrassment as he repressed the anxiety. He was used to off-handed or simple complements, not heartfelt ones. "Thanks, dude... It's just being a nice person." He sat down next to Scourge again, looking down at the floor. "You said you'd do the same for her. Anyone'd do the same." But it was clear that as much as he tried to play it cool, he was taking it to heart. 'You're a good person.' 'You're a good person.' "I'm a thief." Some kind of shred of fear pushed him over the edge, blurting it out as Aria ran through the halls, covering the sound of her loudest echo. He didn't want to screw this up, and the longer he lied, the worse it would get. "I'm a thief, I'm just a pickpocket. You think- I wouldn't withdraw that much in fives and tens." He almost sounded angry, but a burning, inward anger. He didn't even bring up the nice restaurant cutlery and other small valuables he'd taken during their little trip. "It's a casino area... they'd lose it anyways."

He was surprised at the sudden confession. The mood turned cold, Scourge just a little shocked.

"A thief? Wh-why? Never mind, I can guess why but… When? How I… I’m trying to understand and I don't know how…” He paused and looked up at the other. “What I said still holds. You’re still a good person… Just help me understand-”

Aria had gotten close enough, running from something that wasn’t there. In her drunk state it all felt horror movie-eqse. Like she was an actor in an r rated movie.

“SCOURGE!! MANIC!!” She shrieked voice hoarse from screaming. She was in the main hall now, close enough for the boys to hear over their conversation.

Scourges ears perked and he got up, motioning for Manic to follow him as he ran into the hall. “Come on! Aria??” Manic would have tried to say something to help Scourge understand, if it wasn't for the sudden shrieking. Sudden nothing, her shrieking had been a background hum for Manic, even if he couldn't register it over his own mind's anxious yelling. But now he had another set of anxious screams to worry about. "Aria...?!" Manic stood up, his hurried walk quickly escalating into a jog towards the hall. Sure enough, Aria seemed to be running and screaming from nothing, down some kind of corridor through the main hall. Manic didn't even bother asking Scourge if he knew what was going on, he clearly didn't. Manic exited through the same door Aria just ran through. "Aria, wait, it's us!" Manic screamed as he hurried up towards Aria, panicked and red in the face, and by the looks of it, exhausted from her run. Scourge ran up towards the two soon after. Manic wrapped one arm around her shoulders, holding her close without being too mushy. "Ari, are you alright?! We're here, we're alright! Did something happen?!" Aria clung to Manic, shivering from fear. She felt weak and a little limp, still terrified of what she thought she saw. She was unable to speak, crying just a little bit. Her inhales were shaky, her skin clammy.

Scourge had his phone out, calling someone and ordering a full security sweep of the castle and a nurse to be sent to the living room. Several other people that Manic didn’t know came running in.

"What’s going on?” The pair asked. A pink hedgehog and a black one, still sleepy and a little confused. The male had a sword belt on, and the weapon rested in its sheath. Judging from his voice, he was clearly the other person Scourge had called.

“We dunno. But whatever happened, you’re safe now kiddo.” He insisted as Aria looked up at him. What in Chaos was going on? Manic had no idea what to make of any of this. Aria was spunky, she was brave, she wasn't the kind to just breakdown at nothing. SOMETHING must have happened, but what? All Manic knew was Aria clearly needed to ground herself in reality, and the alcohol wasn't going to help. He looked around the room Aria had run into. Some kind of small sitting room. Manic walked her over to a couch, patting her back to try and comfort her. "Hey, you're okay, we're all here!" Manic said, not quite knowing who 'we' was. Who was this black hedgehog? No idea. Some kind of royal guard, maybe? Who was this pink hedgehog. Probably the nurse? And even though he knew Scourge, a lot had happened in a few minutes, and he had no idea how he was going to react. "What happened, Ari? You gonna be alright?" The pink hedgehog sat on the coffee table, checking Aria's vitals. "Pulse is fast but still within normal parameters… She’s drunk for sure. Nothing else is out of the ordinary. What happened my little lamb?” She asked, petting Aria's cheek. The red hedgie nuzzled into her palm.

The black hedgehog got a message on a radio that was looped onto his belt. “The castle is secure. So either whatever scared her is still in the house, or there’s nothing tangible scaring her”

“Like a ghost?” Scourge asked, clearly off put by the idea of a spirit in his house.

“Or a hallucination. It wouldn’t be the first time I’ve seen this happen to someone. Regardless I think we should get her into a bed. She can sleep it all off.”

Scourge nodded and looked to Manic. “Sorry, looks like the trio’s down to two. Help me get her to bed?” "C'mon, let's get you somewhere else." Manic said, helping Aria to her feet. She seemed frightened still, but walking with two other people seemed to calm her nerves a bit. While Manic lead her by her hand, Scourge actually directed them through the castle, with it being Manic's first visit and all. But soon, Aria was in what looked like a guest bedroom curled up safely. "Here, Ari." Manic handed his phone to Aria, smiling. "We'll still be here. You need anything, just give Scourge a call or text or whatever, okay?" But even as they left the room, they didn't go too far. Manic sat down on one of the benches in the corridors, exhaling loudly. "Is that a normal thing for her?" He was wrenching his hands around uncomfortably, trying not to say anything stupid or thoughtless. "She didn't seem like that earlier... you think somethings actually in the castle?" He wanted to keep asking questions, but Scourge was already trying to ask his own earlier. "I guess I've still got a lot to tell you, don't I? Where do you want me to start, dude?" Aria's shivers died down slowly, but by the time they got to her room, she was still gripping onto his hand. Scourge lit the fire in the fireplace so she would be warm. She nodded in thanks and curled up into a ball to try and sleep it off.

Scourge sat next to Manic and thought. "I think Glare, the black hedgehog, was right. He’s my head of security, if he says the building is secure, it's secure. I don’t think whatever Aria saw was… Physically present.”

He clarified. “This place is haunted as shit, but only the old wing. Maybe Aria got too close to one of the entrances.”

He looked at the other, thinking back to their conversation. “The beginning I guess? I mean, I’m guessing you started stealing out of boredom or desperation.” "Well, I'm a sucker for danger, maybe I've gotta see the old wing sometime?" Manic said, not completely joking. But inevitably, things were going to loop around to his own confession. "Well... yeah. More necessity, but desperation, yeah. Out mom isn't- We kind of had to take care of her for a while. And she couldn't get a ton of money to support us, so we found our own ways to help. Sonic and Sonia found jobs, but thievery was so... easy, y'know? We got enough to live off of, enough to have some fun... and it became kind of an addiction." He sighed, smiling. "And you know? That's how I met Scourge. He actually stole my car, and things went... weirdly well. Two great thieves living out of a crappy van and a worse apartment. It's so damn fun, you wouldn't believe." His eyes were closed, his body barely moving as he spoke. "I've been trying to stop, but there are some things- I love it. I'm perfect at it, I love it, there's nothing else even close. When you're that good, it's impossible to stop." "Besides." Manic stared at the floor now, his face bittersweet and reminiscent. "Scourge'd want me to have fun." "The old wing has been locked up, boarded up and abandoned for… 15 years? And whatever… WHOever is down there is angry. Its too dangerous.”

Scourge watched the others face as he spoke. An honorable reason for a bad deed that slowly got worse. He tried to think of a good way for Manic to get his kleptomania out in a healthy way, but found none.

“I kind of understand… The first but anyways… But Manic, you do realize that some of the people you’re stealing from are in just a bad of a situation as Aria, right? I know you might need that money, but for now maybe stick to uppity rich people. Okay?”

He patted the other on the shoulder. “Thank you for telling me. I think you’re brave and what I said earlier is still true. You’re still a good person.” "I'm not dumb," Manic said with a smile as he got patted on the shoulder. "You can tell who's got cash to burn... but thanks for your concern." He closed his eyes again. "Thanks for everything, mate." There wasn't any hiding the pain in Manic's face. Scourges always got some reaction from him. Yeah, this Scourge was entirely different in personality. But he sounded ALMOST the same, looked ALMOST identical. It felt less like an alternate Scourge. More like a kind person piloting a Scourge's behavior from a safe distance. It was comforting words from the one kind of person that could have made anything of the sort utterly devastating for Manic. "I don't know who I should feel sad for now," Manic desperately chuckled. Manic put one of his hands over Scourge's, not just to show some kind of closeness, but to actually feel his hand. He still had all his fingers. It wasn't his Scourge. He was talking to someone else. He was talking to someone else. "I'm kind of terrified for all of us, dude." "I haven’t done much to help. I could always do more, just say the word… And yeah… We’re all fucked up in 19 different ways… But we’ll get through it eventually.” He smiled at the other.

Looking at details in his face, it was obvious that this was not his Scourge, even if the fingers didn’t give it away. This Scourge was older, quills starting to loose their luster and go grey around the ears. He also had more stress liken, worry wrinkles and a few pale facial scars. Those bandages around his chest and back hadn’t been removed, but one could assume that there were scars there.

Silence between them, the comfortable kind. Scourge glancing at the others hand. “I’m sorry about your Scourge. I don’t know what happened but I know you miss him a whole lot… If there’s ever anything I can do, or if I do or say something that hits too close to home, lemme know okay? I know how tough it is to be around alternates of someone you love who’s no longer around.”

Scourge got up cocking his head towards another door in the hall. “Now bedtime young man. I think you’ve had enough excitement for one day.” "Not knowing what happened's kind of the whole problem," Manic said as he spoke about Scourge, "but I'll tell you all that some other time. I guess this isn't how we wanted Aria's birthday to turn out, yeah?" He agreed completely with turning in for the night. Their day had been emotionally exhausting, and he needed a chance to lay down and try to relax after everything that happened. "Think I've had enough excitement for like, one month," he joked. "You mind if I check in on...?" They slowly opened the door to Aria's room. It seemed like she'd calmed down and started to fall asleep. Manic strolled up quietly. Sure enough, out like a light. He picked up his phone, thankful she didn't feel like she had to call for help. As soon as he was out, he started speaking again. "Guess I can't drive down if we've got all these questions?" He pointed his thumb behind him, down the stairs. "Hey, I'll just be conked out in my van if you need anything. Night, dude." "Yeah.. Tonight did not go as planned. But we always have a chance for a do over, her actual birthday is this Thursday and were having people over for dinner. You’re invited.”

Scourge checked in on Aria from the door, then came in to pull up the covers and pet her gently. She merely curled up in the sheet a little more. Wrapped up in sheets like that, she looked much younger than she actually was.

Scourge looked at Manic like he had three heads. “Manic there’s over a thousand rooms in this castle, and about 100 are being used. You are not sleeping in a van tonight. Come on. You’re staying in style.”

He lead Manic down the hall, past a set of grand doors, then a smaller set of doors that stood out from the rest. “The big doors are my room. Knock if you need anything.” No mention of the small doors. Interesting.

“…and this one is yours for how ever long you want it.” He opened a plain door to another room, similar to Aria's. "Aw, dude...! Like, I literally don't mind sleeping in there, it's weirdly comfy? But thanks, dude, this is awesome!" His normal enthusiasm was knocked out some by simple exhaustion, but the sentiment was clear. He looked over the room again before turning back to Scourge. "Thanks again, mate. Like, for everything." With a two finger salute, he closed the door and walked over to the bed. Normally, it would have been the kind of night where his thoughts kept him up. Everything he'd learned about Aria, about Scourge, about this castle, there were clearly whole lives going on that Manic wasn't privy to. And maybe he would have wanted to ponder everything he heard and tried to deduce anything. But that door was very strange. One of two unique doors in the castle, and Scourge went out of his way to pretend like it didn't exist. He could try and find answers, sure, but something told him there were a lot behind there that Scourge didn't want him to see. Normally, it would have been the kind of night where curiosity got him out of bed. But that day was VERY strange. He'd processed enough, and as soon as he laid down on the mattress, he realized just how tired he was. It didn't take more than a minute for that night to take its toll on Manic.

[rbpmc-blog]

Twitching With Twight

You’re haunted because you remember having something more. With each drag of the razor you ask yourself why you piss your blood into another man’s cup. Working at the job he offered, your future is between his thumb and forefinger. And the necessary accessories, the proclamations of success you thought gave you stability provide your boss security. Your debt encourages acquiescence, the heavy mortgage makes you polite.

Aren’t you sick of being tempted by an alternative lifestyle, but bound by chains of your own choosing? Of the gnawing doubt that the college graduate, path of least resistance is the right way for you — for ever? Each weekend you prepare for the two weeks each summer when you wake up each day and really ride, or climb; the only imperative being to go to bed tired. When booming thermals shoot you full of juice and your Vario shrieks 7m/sec, you wonder if the lines will pop. The risk pares away life’s trivia. Up there, sucking down the thin cumulus, the earth looks small, the boss even smaller, and you wish it could go on forever. But a wish is all it will ever be.

Because the ground is hard. Monday morning is harsh. You wear the hangover of your weekend rush under a strict and proper suit and tie. You listen to NPR because it’s inoffensive, PFC: Politically Fucking Correct. Where’s the counter-cultural righteousness that had you flirting with Bad Religion and the vintage Pistols tape over the weekend? On Monday you eat frozen food and live the homogenized city experience. But Sunday you thought about cutting your hair very short. You wanted a little more volume and wondered how out of place you looked in the Sub Pop Music Store. Flipping through the import section, you didn’t recognize any of the bands. KMFDM? It stands for Kill Mother Fucking Depeche Mode. Didn’t you know? How could you not?

Tuesday you look at the face in the mirror again. It stares back, accusing. How can you get by on that one weekly dose? How can you be satisfied by the artifice of these experiences? Why should your words mean anything? They aren’t learned by heart and written in blood. If you cannot grasp the consciousness-altering experience that real mastery of these disciplines proposes, of what value is your participation? The truth is pointless when it is shallow. Do you have the courage to live with the integrity that stabs deep?

Use the mirror to cut to the heart of things and uncover your true self. Use the razor to cut away what you don’t need. The life you want to live has no recipe. Following the recipe got you here in the first place:

  Mix one high school diploma with an undergrad degree and a college sweetheart. With a whisk (or a whip) blend two cars, a poorly built house in a cul de sac, and fifty hours a week working for a board that doesn’t give a shit about you. Reproduce once. Then again. Place all ingredients in a rut, or a grave. One is a bit longer than the other. Bake thoroughly until the resulting life is set. Rigid. With no way out. Serve and enjoy.

One day you’ll look in the mirror and ask yourself, “How did I get here?” And more importantly. “How do I get out?”

Live the lifestyle instead of paying lip service to the lifestyle. Live with commitment. With emotional content. Live whatever life you choose honestly. Give up this renaissance man, dilettante bullshit of doing a lot of different things (and none of them very well by real standards). Get to the guts of one thing; accept, without reservation or rationalization, the responsibility of making a choice. When you live honestly, you can not separate your mind from your body, or your thoughts from your actions.

Tell the truth. First, to yourself. Say it until it hurts. Learn the reality of your own selfishness. Quit living for other people at the expense of your own self, you’re not really alive. You live in the land of denial — and they say the view is pretty a long as you remain asleep.

Well it’s time to WAKE THE FUCK UP!

So do it. Wake up. When you drink the coffee tomorrow, take it black and notice it. Feel the caffeine surge through you. Don’t take it for granted. Use it for something. Burn the Grisham books. Sell the bad CDs. Mariah Carey, Dave Mathews and N Sync aren’t part of the soundtrack where you’re going.

Cut your hair. Don’t worry about the gray. If you’re good at what you do, no one cares what you look like. Go to the weight room. Learn the difference between actually working out and what you’ve been doing. Live for the Iron and the fresh air. Punish your body to perfect your soul. Kick the habit of being nice to everyone you meet. Do they deserve it? Say “no” more often.

Quit posturing at the weekly parties. Your high pulse rate, your 5.12s and quick time on the Slickrock Trail don’t mean shit to anybody else. These numbers are the measuring sticks of your own progress; show, don’t tell. Don’t react to the itch with a scratch. Instead, learn it. Honor the necessity of both the itch and the scratch. But a haircut and a new soundtrack do not a modern man make. As long as you have a safety net you act without commitment. You’ll go back to your old habits once you meet a little resistance. You need the samurai’s desperateness and his insanity.

Burn the bridge. Nuke the foundation. Back yourself up against a wall. Have an opinion one way or the other, get off the fence and rip it up. Cut yourself off so there is no going back. Once you’re committed the truth will come out. You ask about security? What you need is uncertainty. What you need is confusion; something that forces you to reinvent yourself, a whip to drive you harder.

In Dune, Frank Herbert called it “the attitude of the knife,” cut off what’s incomplete and say “now it has finished, for it has ended there.” So finish it, and walk away, forward. Only acts undertaken with commitment have meaning. Only your best effort matters.

Life is a Meritocracy, with death as the auditor. Inconsistency, incompetence and lies are all cut short by that final word. Death will change you if you can’t change yourself.

[lifenuances9]

Castlefest 2018

It has been my third time watching the live stream for a festival called Castlefest which has been amazing! It’s located in the Netherlands so I can only dream of seeing it for myself maybe far into the future. :) But hopefully not that far off. I love this festival because it gives me a great opportunity to see some of my favorite folk/pagan bands live. These bands don’t really tour much if any to the U.S. so it’s a good way of watching them perform. My favorite band performances have been SeeD, Emian, The Dolmen (first time for me), Perkelt, Irfan!!! and of course my most treasured one, Faun. All of the bands that I saw were great and some I’ve newly discovered which were also a treat. I loved watching the audience dance in a balfolk circle or with their partners which really showed how much fun they were having. It’s a really nice atmosphere there. I would really love to go to this kind of festival at least once in my life. I’d probably go broke though because I would just want to buy everyone’s CDs. 

The main event of the festival was the wicker ritual which is held every year to celebrate Lammas/Lughnasadh. They really outdid themselves this year because they added more stage elements to the ritual which made it very memorable. Needless to say I felt a bit emotional watching it all unfold. It was good to know that the sentiment was shared by other people who were watching it as well. This is my third time watching this live stream as they do the festival once a year. Last year it was over the top with the performance of the band Heilung which was outstanding. I’m really happy and feel blessed to be able to see this celebration. 

So a little bit about Lughnasadh which is the first harvest celebration (there are 3; Lughnasadh, Mabon, Samhain). The main focus is giving thanks to Mother Earth for the upcoming harvest season. It is also a good time to release all that no longer serves us so that we can welcome what we are reaping. So whatever you’ve sowed, this is the time that you start seeing the fruits of it finally. Anyway, that’s just a little brief background.

 A lot of people at the festival give offerings of flowers or written notes which are then placed inside the wicker figure located out on the field. The figure is then lit on fire and is left to burn for a while until everything has turned to ashes. 

I always enjoy watching the whole thing unfold and feeling the energy coming through. This is all about embracing Mother Nature and remembering to connect with her anytime you can. To never forget that we’re all connected to one another somehow. :) To honor that connection as well as to honor Mother Earth, the elements, and Spirit.

Tomorrow will be the last day for the live stream as it all comes to an end. There’s always another year and hopefully I’ll get to see my other favorite bands. 

Also I’m debating on perhaps delving a bit into runes.

[hejin57-blog]

MUSIC MASTERS: CD ONE

Might want to rewind a bit...

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WHITE KNUCKLE RIDE: PART SIX

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It was a blessing in disguise that Aeris had decided to show up early tonight.  Because judging from her attitude the other day, Kim probably would have chewed Michael Kay out like no tomorrow once they were alone together for even a second.

Michael counted himself so incredibly lucky as he spotted her sitting on a park bench.  He waved with excitement as he approached.

"I hope you weren't waiting here too long.  I try to be early because Kim says she'll make me do push ups if I'm late." he remarked.  Aeris just raised an eyebrow as she chuckled in response.

"Seriously?"

Michael grinned.  "Nah, I'm just kidding.  She's not that crazy."

In truth, he actually wasn't sure what the consequence for being late was.  He was probably better off not knowing.

Aeris stood up from the bench, her usual checkered blazer replaced with a much heavier dark blue winter jacket.  She shivered a bit from the cold.

"Sorry, not really used to this weather.  Where's your friend Kim by the way?" she asked innocently, hands now stuffed in her pockets.

Michael looked around, now wondering the same thing.  "I'm not really sure.  I was expecting her to be waiting for me here.  You know, because I disobeyed direct orders or whatever."

The blonde's gaze switched to rock formation up above.  Her tone of voice seemed so pleasant.

"Maybe something came up.  We might as well use the time without her while we have it.  You did say you wanted to show me your songs, right?"

Michael perked up.  "Yeah, totally!"

Together, Michael and Aeris made their way up the rock formation.  To Michael, it was a bit of a surprise nobody really hung around Central Park on nights like this.  He could only guess that the recent drop in temperature this early in September was probably the cause for the emptiness.  

Once they made it to the summit, Aeris took a moment to look out at the view.  She smiled to herself.

"There's kind of timeless quality about the city, you know.  It's so different than countryside.  I seen that stuff all the time, so it gets old.  But all these lights and this noise, I don't know, it's got its charm."

"You said you were from Texas right?  I wouldn't know what that's like.  I haven't been a step out of this city my whole life." Michael replied, stretching for a moment before reaching for his headphones.  

He was just about to put them in when he noticed the expression of calm on Aeris's face.  In that brief moment she looked so at peace with the world.  It was then that an idea he hadn't realized before popped into his head.

"Hey." he began, coming up right behind her.  "Why don't you show me one of your songs?  I mean, I don't even know what kind of music you like."

Aeris looked down, clearly uncomfortable now.  "I don't think that's such a good idea.  You wouldn't like my music very much."

Michael's expression became dour.  "Who cares if I like it or not?  I'm barely a week in as a Music Master.  The more stuff I can see, the better.  Kim says it'll help me prepare for the unexpected anyway."

He smiled again, sitting down on the rocky ground with legs crossed.  Leaning back, it was clear to Aeris he wasn't taking no for an answer.

"Just before Kim gets here at least.  I get the feeling your music's gonna blow us all away."

Not saying a word, Aeris reached for the small light blue music player in her left pocket.  She stared down at the device, a hint of longing in her eyes.  Inside this tiny player were uncountable musical memories of her childhood.  Just one song was enough to make her remember a picaresque sunny afternoon, and the taste of her grandmother's crisp, perfectly squeezed lemonade.

But in the same fashion, it made her remember the first time she ever used a song effect.  She remembered the sound of glass shattering and the burning, most horrible pain she had ever felt in her entire life.  She might have allowed a tear to escape from the mere thought if not for Michael's presence.

Completely unaware of course, Michael just continued to wait patiently, and on some level Aeris didn't want to disappoint.  

Aeris couldn't keep making excuses forever.

She'd gotten better, and she certainly wasn't a child anymore.  She had to stop being so panicked like this.  She had to have control.

"Okay."  Aeris sighed, finally relenting to both Michael, and more importantly, herself.  

Michael grinned as wide as ever, clapping his hands together loudly.

"One song though.  And only one." she further clarified.

With that, Aeris pulled her sky blue headphones from her jacket pocket.  She gazed at them for a  moment in her black glove-covered palm.  To most people, they were just an instrument used to listen to music.  But to her, they were conduits to a very dangerous power.

Her song of choice was already in mind as she put in her headphones and scrolled through her music player.  Michael just silently looked on with excitement.

Exhaling, Aeris found what she was looking for and pressed play.

Unlike with Kim, the music wasn't easily apparent in the air.  It took Aeris more than two seconds to Harmonize, though she could only assume it was just nerves since she hadn't done it in so long.

Then, as Michael bit his nails in anticipation, he heard the opening drums clang into the air.

-----

-----

It was something so mellow compared to Kim's rough punk rock or Michael's own wild disco.  Aeris smiled wide to herself as she brought her arms to her side.  It took another moment, but Michael's eyes widened as cold blue lightning began to dance from her fingertips.  She looked at it with satisfaction, opening her palm as it surged and dove between her fingers.  

Finally, the lightning relaxed to her will, content with arcing itself just above her forearm.  

Michael simply clapped with contentment.  "Talk about selling yourself short.  That's so cool!"

He got up, intending to walk closer to get a better look, when Aeris spoke suddenly.

"Hey, watch it!  You have no idea how much this stuff hurts." she warned him, and luckily, he was smart enough to stop in his tracks.

Relief washed over her where there was but a moment of panic.  "Sorry, but I'm jumpy for your own good.  You do want to keep your crazy hair after all, right?"

Michael laughed in response.  "Uh, duh!  I couldn't imagine my life otherwise."

"No surprise there.  Anyway, check this out." she said, now crouching down so that she could easily put her hand just above the rock itself.  Aeris focused her senses, and as Michael watched, he could see the lightning from her palm begin to violently arc into the rock face below.  It was but mere seconds before it turned black and scorched.

Michael gulped as he surveyed the damage.  "Yikes.  I'd hate to think what that could do to a person."

"Me too.  I still have trouble controlling it even now." Aeris replied, pausing the song and watching as the lightning dissipated into nothingness.  "I know your friend Kim is nasty about it, but she has a point about this Music Master stuff.  It's super dangerous.  You have to understand that, Michael.  Those songs that normal people get to listen to without worrying about a thing?  For us, they can kill someone."

"I know, I know." Michael acknowledged, now just a little bit tired of hearing the same lecture yet again.  "That's why we're meeting up here on Fridays.  So that kind of thing doesn't happen.  At least, that's what Kim says."

Michael looked around again, and then towards the rocks they came up from.  Reminded of her again, he could see no sign of Kim Ramone anywhere.  Focusing his hearing, he couldn't even pick up the sound of any music she might be listening to.

"So does she usually take this long?" Aeris asked, her hands now back in the comfort of her warm jacket pockets.

"Maybe something really did come up." Michael commented, though he couldn't mask his uncertainty very well.

His heart rose up to his throat.  "I sure hope something came up."

-----

There was something undeniably creepy about this whole situation.  Even Calvin couldn't lie to himself about it.

Nevertheless, he still smiled with satisfaction as he swiped through the pictures on his phone.  There were a few of Michael and Kim, one of Michael using some heat-based song effect, and more than one of Aeris just sitting and waiting on the park bench.  

His original intention had been to observe Michael and Kim once he had figured out that they were both Music Masters.  Michael in particular seemed like an easy mark, much to Calvin's delight.

Aeris, on the other hand, would be a little something for later.  He smiled to himself as he admired her image on his phone.  There was something entrancing about the pure innocence on her face.

Having been sitting by himself in heavy bushes this whole time, Calvin had been so distracted with his tailing of Michael's small group and Aeris's beauty that he almost forgot a crucial fact.  

He looked up, his eyebrows raised as he suddenly wondered where Kim was in all this.  She was pretty hard to miss after all, and she was the last person he wanted to have any sort of confrontation with.  

Unfortunately for Calvin, it would be too late for him to notice that she was already much too close for comfort.

Just behind him, a long finger-nailed hand reached out through the brush in deathly silence.  Once it felt mass, it closed quick and hard.  Calvin yelped loudly as she pulled him back by the roots of his shaggy blond hair.  

He noisily tumbled out of his bushy hiding place, rolling to one side and wincing as he felt a scratch on the right side of his cheek.  Shaking himself, Calvin looked up and was met with sight of a none too happy Kim Ramone.

Not one to usually get scared easily, Calvin pulled out his best innocent bystander response.

"Hey, what gives?  That's the only place I can get Wi-Fi here!"

Kim didn't even respond.  She just gave him a cold, deadpan stare.  

Realizing the act wasn't working, Calvin quickly went from feigning annoyance to showing true fear.  He tried to put up his hands as Kim raised her combat boot.

"Wait, wait, wai-"

All it took was one hard stomp, and Calvin was seeing stars.

So much for a good first impression.

-----

After what felt like forever, Michael craned his neck quick as he spotted Kim finally making her way up the rock formation.  

And much to both his and Aeris's surprise, she was carrying someone he didn't recognize on her shoulder.

"Looks like Christmas came early everyone!" Kim exclaimed with fake jubilation, as she tossed the one hundred sixty pound teen off her and onto his back.  Both Michael and Aeris approached cautiously, though once they got close, it was clear that he was very much out for the count.

Aeris in particular leaned down and inspected his face.  She brushed some of his hair aside, noting scratches and the large red mark that could have only come from the bottom of Kim's boot.

Michael, of course, was immediately confused.  "Uh, Kim...who's this?"

She shrugged.  "I have no idea.  He's got no school ID or anything on him.  All I know is he's been following us since last week.  He could just be some creep, or he could be a First Beat.  Either way, I'm not taking any chances."

Whoever this stranger was, he was dressed quite nicely for a supposed teenager.  His matching dress pants and suit jacket were both a dark, deep blue, contrasting with a black undershirt emblazoned with a bright yellow design.  Michael's gaze in particular wandered towards his shoes, which clearly stood out with their neon green color scheme.

"Don't you think stepping on his face was a little excessive?" Aeris asked, but of course, Kim just laughed in response.

"Ha!  I don't think so.  But if he tries anything funny once he comes to, then I'll show him excessive."

As if right on cue, Calvin began to stir.  Aeris blinked, and as his eyes creaked open, he was met with the pleasant sight of her staring down at him.  Even in the grogginess that accompanied being woken up from a knockout, he still had enough time for a one-liner.

"The things I'd do to wake up to that face more often." he remarked with a light laugh.  Blushing almost immediately, Aeris was quick to stand up and turn away.   Kim remained completely unfazed however, proceeding to drop her boot hard on his right leg.

Calvin cried out, now remembering his situation.  Instinctively, one of his free hands went for his music player, but Kim was quick to beat him to the punch.

"Don't even bother." she said flatly, patting her pocket where his music player was nestled while also displaying his neon red and green headphones in her hand.  

"Make this easy for yourself.  Tell Zero Beat to leave us the hell alone, and maybe I'll think about sending you back to them with most of your teeth intact."

A million thoughts ran through Calvin's mind in a situation like this.  It was nothing new though.  He had been in tight spots before, against people much more willing to use deadly force than this Kim character.

And once Zero Beat was brought up, he knew in an instant he could use that to his advantage.  Calvin held back his wincing as he put on his smoothest tone of voice.

"It's never good to have Zero Beat after you, that's for sure.  Luckily, I don't run with that crowd."

"Then what crowd do you run with?" Aeris asked quickly, but Calvin did little more than smirk.  "Why were you spying on us?"

Michael looked back and forth and both Kim and Aeris.  Tensions were running a bit high now, and even if this guy was with Zero Beat, perhaps even Kim was going a little overboard.  Michael crouched down, forearms resting on his legs as he hoped to be as non-threatening as possible.

Unfortunately for him, that's exactly what Calvin was hoping for.

"Me?  Spy?  Why, I'm flattered."

"Hey." Michael interjected.  "We're not going to hurt you."

Kim raised an eyebrow, but even still kept a modicum of pressure over Calvin's leg.

"Okay, I'm not going to hurt you." Michael corrected himself.  "You know if you're not with Zero Beat, maybe you can help us out.  What's their deal, anyway?"

Calvin just laughed.  "What's their deal?  Seriously?  You live under a rock or what?"

Kim applied pressure, clearly annoyed by the run around.  "Hey, he's not paid to be in the know.  Just answer his questions before I lose my patience."

"Okay, jeez." Calvin replied.  It was obvious charm wasn't going to work on her.  "You've got some award-winning personality there."

Calvin sat up now, though Kim still didn't seem ready to let up.  Fixing his collar, he began to address Michael now.  "Zero Beat, let's just say, is kind of like the police.  And you should know that nobody wants to piss off the police."

He took a particular glance at Michael's afro, smiling a little bit to himself.  "Especially after Last Record, and what happened with Highlord Funk and DanceDown.  A real tragedy, really."

Of course, those choice words were all it took to grab Michael Kay's attention.  His mind instantly began to wander at the implication of those words.  

DanceDown?  

Highlord Funk?  

Last Record?

It all sounded so fantastical, and of course, Michael's mind wanted more.  Calvin had him right where he wanted him.

"Anyway, I'm not with Zero Beat." he insisted, shooting a sly glance at Aeris.  "And as much as I'd like to stick around, I really have places to be.  Let's make this all water under the bridge, shall we?"

Kim seemed to debate just clocking him again.  She couldn't stand his smug grin or anything about the way he operated.  But even she wasn't so dense to think he had anything to do with Zero Beat at this point.  

She threw Michael a look of acknowledgement, before finally letting up on his leg and allowing him freedom.  In the back of her mind, she began to wonder if Michael's presence was starting to turn her soft.  

"You're lucky Michael's too dumb for his own good.  I better not catch you sneaking around here again." she threatened nevertheless, and Calvin clasped his hands together in his best apologetic tone.

"Oh, of course not.  I wouldn't dream of it."

He turned to Aeris now, taking her by the hand and just ever so slightly lowering his tone.  "I never got your name by the way.  The name's Calvin.  It's quite the pleasure to make your acquaintance."

Completely caught off guard, Aeris debated ripping her hand away.  Unfortunately common courtesy got the better of her, and she answered as politely as usual.  "Uh, I'm Aeris.  Nice to meet you, I guess."

Breaking his moment completely, Michael was quick to tap on their spy's shoulder.  "Hey, I know we might not see you again after this, so you want to trade numbers?  I'm kind of curious about the Last Record stuff you were talking about.  It sounds pretty cool."

Calvin, of course, was annoyed at the interruption, but he feigned interest quite well.  He turned to the afro-headed teen in an instant, but quickly realized he still didn't have the phone which also doubled as his music player.

"Oh, would you mind?" motioning to Kim for his phone.  She threw it back quite hard, though he still managed to catch it without too much damage to himself.

"And the headphones?"

She kept them looped in her fingers by her waist.  "Yeah, sure.  When you're leaving you can have them."

It took all of Calvin's will to hold back a frustrated sigh.  Instead, he turned his attention back to Michael, making small talk as he noted his digits.  "You're Michael, right?  I definitely dig your style.  Very retro."

Michael made an static grin in response.  "Hey thanks!  I wish more people appreciated it, you know?"

Kim simply put a frustrated hand on her forehead, standing by a mostly silent Aeris.  "I swear to you, Afroboy's going to make me blow a gasket one day.  It's a wonder you could stand being here alone with him for even five minute."

"You do know this is the first time you've really talked to me at all, right?" Aeris pointed out.  "And he's a little all over the place, but he means well.  It could be worse, you know."

Kim kept her hands in her pockets as she watched Michael continue to blab to Calvin, much to her displeasure.  "Could it?  Yeah, I find that hard to believe sometimes."

Meanwhile, Calvin seemed to have Michael wrapped around his little finger.  

"You know, it's too bad we won't be seeing you much after this.  Kim jumps the gun way too much on people." Michael commented, but Calvin's response was so oddly assuring.

"I wouldn't say that so soon, Mike.  Who knows, maybe you'll even get to see some of my song effects one day."

He gave Aeris a playful wink.  She just smiled awkwardly in response.  

Unlike Michael, he was no moron.  He knew she didn't have the hots for him.  But it was a start, at least.

Perhaps there was a silver lining to being face-stomped by Kim after all.

Fast forward to the next track...

[dahcyst]

A Flower for the Bee [Chapter 1]

[AO3 link here : http://archiveofourown.org/works/9238850/chapters/20952428 ]

I’ve started this right by the end of the first season, craving for Otayuri soooo much -and I’m still! But right when I started this, well...Voltron season 2 was released...Sorry, I’m stuck in the middle of the 7th chapter for now, so I’m uploading the stuff here and someday I’ll get some motivation back to write the next chapters ! XD

"I fucking don't care!"

"Yuri, please, don't be such a kid..."

"I'm going home, don't even dare bother me till tomorrow."

The young boy's next movement was simple : his feet kicked hard in the large door of the skating rink, and Yuri only had the time to hear Victor's sigh before the awful bang that resonated in the hall. It's been several months since Victor had returned to Russia, since he was back on the ice, since the day he, Yuri, had got this first place, this gold medal, at the last Grand Prix.

He was going to turn sixteen the day after, and somehow it was already getting on his nerves. Victor probably never got that problem himself, his performances always going along with his body frame. Victor probably didn't have to really deal with what he was and what he was getting to be.

And Yuri was in that state, teenage suddenly hitting hard on him in a way he knew that would be, somehow. But there was a difference between knowing things and experiencing them, living them. He could feel his own heartbeat, strong, heavy in his ribcage as he was walking down the corridor to the changing room. Even after so much time out of Russia, stuck in Japan with that other Yuuri, Victor was still the same: tactless, rude, unable to understand others feelings toward themselves.

It was ice skating only to Victor. Thanks god, the guy had found another weirdo thinking the same way as him, even though he was living in another country. It appeared that Victor wasn't back by himself in the end: Yuuri had asked him to leave so they could both work on ice and impress each other through their performance. Well, it was certainly a way to show their...affection? Yuri winced at the idea. He never really got what was the real bond between those two and somehow he wasn't sure if he wanted to exactly know. It was way easier to think "I'm too young to get it".

The door of the changing room banged closed behing him as all his thoughts wre making their way in his mind. Young. That was the main problem here, and Yuri sighed deeply. Sixteen years old. At school, most of the students were prety excited when their birthday was coming. Especially sixteen, seventeen and so on. It meant becoming an adult, with adult's privilege. With adult responsabilities. With an adult mind.

It actually wasn't the worst part, Yuri had to admit. He'd always been smarter and more mature than the average of his age, from far. Maybe it was also the reason of his loneliness. He knew how of a jerk he was to people his age.

But he quite didn't care that much. Being alone was also a part of that life full of training everyday, full of ice skating everyday, full of everything but human beings. He had never really looked for others to come in his life and instead focused on his carreer as a skater. It worked pretty well, and as long as he could use his body the way he needed, everything would be fine.

Yuri pulled on the hem of his sweatshirt in silnce. Overthinking was one of his bad habit but he couldn't help and once again he was at it, his main problem he had to face until now.

His body.

He knew that it had to happen one day. He was growing up pretty fast these months compare with what he hoped. His body was changing little by little. His knees, his elbows, his back were being pretty painful most of the time and his flexibility tended to fade day after day. He hated that. He hated watching himself being that weak and unable to do anything against his biological clock. He wasn't even mentionning all that disgusting sexual thing that sometimes had to wake him up in the middle of the night, leaving him panting in his bed, tangled with his sheets.

It hurt so much to be stuck in that body, in that state.

When he left the changing room, his bag hanging on his shoudler, there was no one left. The dim liht from a door far in the corridor was the only prove that soeone was still in, probably Victor or Yakov. He'd spent too much time under that shower, switching from hot to cold water until his skin was burning on both positions and his mind was unable to think properly anymore. It would do, for a moment, at least until he coud get home, right on time for dinner.

It was snowing, and he sighed again. The wind was so cold, biting his face, and he tried to hide his chin, his cheeks and nose in his thick scarf to only let his eyes burn due to the coldness of the outside. In the pocket of his coat, he tip of his fingers were playing a little with the shape of his cellphone. The plastic frame was being pretty cold too, he didn't have to take his gloves off to know it.

It was already dark outside. Day after day, the steam coming out of his breathing felt thicker and thicker and he couldn't help thinking back about how winter in Japan last year had been pretty sweet compare with Russia's. His nose was red all the time, his cheeks burning under the bite of the cold.

"I'm home," he softly said while pushing the door of the house.

He knew that nobody would answer him, and he sighed. Again. Somehow, he was feeling like his life had lately been full of sighs and silences. His grandfather was for a few time with an old friend of his, helping after the decease of the old wife of the even elder other man. At first, his grandfather had refused to go, not wanting to let the boy alone, but Yuri could picture the need of the man to go and see his old friend, to keep company, to comfort, to talk and everything that the situation involved. So he almost forced him to leave the place for as long as necessary -and after all, as he reminded him, he'd been in Japan without even saying a word to anyone, only to find Victor and he was barely fifteen when he did.

He turned the light on, letting his bag fall on the floor beside the old couch of the main room. The weak bulb stuck at the ceiling was moving a little due to a few wind entering the lounge while he was getting in, and the dark shadows of the fournitures were slowly dancing on the walls.

Pretty quickly, he took the first remote he found and pressed on the biggest button to turn whatever it was on. Whever it was the TV or the HiFi station, he didn't care. He just needed a noise, something, anything to fill the air and comfort him right now. It came up with the soft clap of a CD getting switched on, and the first song made him sudenly shiver, small goosebump covering his thin skin. It was playing the Symphony No. 9, 2nd Movement "Advent". Something so powerful that it made its way under his skin every time he was listening to this track, making his senses upside down. Every time, he couldn't help but let the pictures of that program he'd seen on that day.

Yuri sighed, again, and let his tired body fall on the old couch, cushions creaking under his weight.

It was Otabek's free program. Closing his eyes, Yuri tried to remember as best as he could the moces of the young man. Determination and power had been like overwhelming his body while dancing on the ice and somehow. Every time he was rewatching Otabek's performance on the DVD Yakov gave him with the full recording of the Grand Prix Final from last year.

When he was focusing on the man himself and not only his powerful body, Yuri felt a bit lost. He couldn't really get what was in Otabek's mind at that moment, when he was skating. Scowling so much, effort painted on his face and at the same time it was like everything was easy and running like water in the bed of the river, like each motion was the obviousness.

The second track started and it made him start a little. It was late, time flying so fast.

His room was stuck in darkness too, but the dim light of the street lamps allowed ran through the curtains and it was barely enough for him to find the way to his bed.

On the sheets, his hand slapped against the cold plastic frame of his laptop, closed in the middle on the bed since the morning when he left. Mumbling a little, the teenager took his phone out of his backpocket and almost jumped on the mattress, springs yelling under the sudden weight. Someday it was going to break, he swore.

Phone in hand, he pushed on the main button to light up the digital screen and pressed the easy code to give access. Since he left the ice rink, Yuri hadn't given a eye to his phone, but the amount of notifications wasn't something to really fear. The top bar of the screen was full of small icons featuring Twitter, FaceBook and Tumblr for the main part. The screen showed '148 notifications' and Yuri sighed, already sweeping them one after another. Fangirls were abusing of social medias when to him it was mostly a way to keep contact with people far way from him. Little by little, he'd lost track of them and only reguarly gave a small look at their online business when there was.

Amongst all the names he didn't even remember following, one suddenly got attractedtion and he stopped sweeping his screen with no care then pushed hard on the notification displayed with his thumb. It was a simple retweet of a picture taken during the Grand Prix and Yuri couldn't help but smile at it, even if it was a little embarrassing. Otabek was in the middle of the photograph with his thumb up, looking far from the rink he should have been more interested in as he was about to perform.

Yuri moved his thumb and index so he could enlarge the picture on his phone. Otabek wasn't at it at all and for a few seconds Yuri wondered what the young man was looking for. He was smiling softly, even on the blurr photograph he could tell from the soft dimples at the corner of his mouth. Then he remembered. Him. Otabek was looking at him, sending back his cheers from the bleachers. Yuri felt a bit curious at that memory, a soft and warm feeling filling his body as well and he couldn't help but smile too. With a strong pressure on the screen, he saved the picture in his phone. Humming softly, Yuri read the caption above the picture and bit a little his low lip. 'Thank you my friend'. Otabek didn't tag Yuri's account, didn't write his name, but Yuri knew who this was for and the warmth in his chest grew a little. But he only pressed the small heart beside, letting Otabek know that he had, at least, seen the tweet.

There was no other interesting post. Fangirls were writing comments everywhere they could and he didn't read all of them with a lot of attention. He knew it wasn't correct of him, but he wasn't one to act as if he was interested in omething when he truly wasn't.

Holding back a yawn, he simply wrote 'back from practise..............fuck' with a gloomy instant selfie in the dark of the room, only enlighted but the phone screen. Gloomy was quite the word, he told himself when he saw his own post in his Twitter timeline in a large size on his laptop screen a few minutes later.

He had nothing to do –maybe homeworks but he wasn't really in the mood. His knees still ache after the day and he was feeling like for once Victor was right about not using some moves and jumps before he's done growing up. Yuri knew that he shouldn't have yelled at Victor for such advices, but at the same time it was just the most frustrating thing ever, and he felt like...

A 'beep' made him start as he was already getting lost in his own thoughts and he went back to his screen and the Twitter notification page that indicated that blue '1'. Another 'beep' right away and he clicked on the '2' newly appeared.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin liked one of your tweets.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "like a princess, man"

Yuri gggled a liltle before suddenly stopping. It was a bit odd to laugh alone in the darkness of his room. There was still the sound of the music from the lounge but still, he was alone. He just smiled then, and clicked on the 'answer' link.

Yura @russiantiger : "listen to the BEE talking"

He didn't have to wait for long.

Ota-bee @otabekaltin : "Don't underestimate bees' power, you flower"

Yuri coughed at the sentence, unsure of how to take it. To be honest, he never knew how to analyze Otabek's words. Most of the time, he was making fun of him, or just clicking on the 'like' button under the few publications he'd made. But there, it was hard not to see a sexual content and Yuri spent a long moment starring at the screen, the words of Otabek especially, before letting go without replying. Not that he would reproach it to the guy, but he didn't know how to answer properly without sounding like some weirdo. Otabek was his first friend and he was already a huge mess when it came to simply write, let alone talk. The next hour was only made of a soft exchange of 'like' between the two of them on stupid retweets they were publishing. Every time Yuri was reading Otabek's name on his notification page, he was feeling like his smile would never left his face. It wasn't just because that nickname was the most ridiculous he'd ever read, and he knew it. He was big enough to understand those things, though it wasn't easy to completly figure out what he was feeling at the moment. The soft feeling wasn't gone by now, and for a moment he was scrolling down Otabek's page, watching his public timeline. Most of the time, it was his everyday life. His parent's puppy, a cat in the street (he didn't taf Yuri on this one, but there was 'I thought of you' above it and Yuri totally assumed have something to see with him, he hoped), his school, the ice rink...

That girl with that amazing smile and those dark eyes, that dark long hair. He had missed that picture, didn't know her face but for sure Otabek had taken this one. Yuri could recognize Otabek's street from all the pictures he'd seen until now, the front of his house, that tree a little farther, those red curtains behind the windows.

A 'beep' louder than the usual ones came and Yuri lifted his eyes up, raising an eyebrow at the private message twinkling. He opened with a slow motion of his mouse and stopped two seconds before eargerly clicking on the awfully stupid nickname.

Ota-bee : "Eeek sorry, wrote something weird before"

Yuri blinked, before getting back to their so small exchange. He tightened his lips into a thin line, trying not to smile too much. Otabek was always like that, saying silly things and then coming in private later to talk a little, whatever was his subject.

Yura : "It's ok"

Ota-bee : "Hard day?"

Yura : "kind of, Vic is boring"

Ota-bee : "Vic? But he's not your coach, is he?"

Yura : "He doesn't need to be my coach to be too much of a fucker"

Ota-bee : "Wow how rude ahah"

Yuri smiled, again, then gave a look at the clock in the corner f the screen. Twitter beeped again, getting his attention.

Ota-bee : "Hey flower!"

Yura : "wtf"

Ota-bee : "It's midnight! Happy birthday man"

Yuri let a second pass. Then another and another, until a full minute was gone and he barely noticed how breathless he was, teeth digging into his lower lip. Oh fuck. He was growing up, again, and it had to be Otabek the first one to remind him how time was awful. And at the same time, he couldn't help his smile to stretch from one ear to another, simply happy with the thought of his friend coming only to wish him a 'happy birthday'. He wanted to imagine Otabek smiling behing his screen while typing those few words but once again, he wasn't completly sure of what he wanted. He stared at his own fingers, softly shaking, and simply wrote "thanks".

He didn't need Otabek to care that much about it. He just wanted him to talk, to tell him about his day if he wanted to, to comment on the last photo he'd seen, the last performance he'd had, all the small things, even the most stupid.

Ota-bee : "go to bed dumbass, you looked exhausted on your pic"

Yuri frowned a little.

Yura : "hey what time is it for you?"

Ota-bee : "around 3"

Yura : "what, pm?"

Ota-bee : "na, AM, I'm not that far"

Yura : "YOU GO TO BED"

Ota-bee : "Cruel flower Yura!"

Yura : "fucking annoying bee"

Ota-bee : "gotta go man, night"

Yura : "night"

Otabek was quickly offline and Yuri didn't wait a second more before shutting the laptop off. This time, he didn't sigh, his mind too far away to properly react to everything. He pushed the laptop aside, before taking off his clothes and slide into his thick pajamas. He was cold, even after rolling his body in the sheets, despite the heater in the bedroom. It probably was because hewas so tired after that day, full of practise, full of fails, full of painful falls, and Yuri wasn't used to deal with failure. His flexibility wasn't terrible these months and it was slowly killing him. Yakov had to yell after him. He yelled, and it was actually the first time since he started skating, that someone had to do so. Ice skating was all he had –and for that reason, he never reproached Victor his behaviour and exclusivity toward their discipline, no matter how much he disliked it.

Yuri tightened the sheets tight around his shoulders, his face plunging as deep as possible in his pillow. Being alone had never been a problem untill now. He had ice skating and it was all that mattered. Because there was Victor around him everyday, but since the man had left for Japan and for Yuuri, things had slightly tended to change. At first, Yuri hadn't really got what was that feeling, Victor had always been like a father to him, always been here when he needed him to be.

But.

He never confessed anything to Victor, never treated him as he could have as a friend. Victor wasn't someone he would see as a friend actually. It was so much different. He was that paternal figure he hadn't with him. His grandfather woudln't replace the lost son, both them knew it and Yuri respected and loved the old man strong enough not to think about the loss and the dull aching in his chest. Every time he was failing to it, he made himself as busy as possible, burying in work, ice skating again and again, focusing on being the best, no matter if it made an asshole of him most of the time.

But.

He did feel lonely. And because of that, the hint of culpability was hitting him so hard, because he couldn't talk to his grandfather, to Victor, to any of those people he loved and trusted. He was alone, unable to speak, each day passing by without the possibility to say how he was feeling, how scared he was to get adult and go through life by himself.

He would never dare tell Otabek. Instead, he prefered focusing on how sweet was that feeling in his chest whenever he saw the young man's nickname on messages, comments, and various posting in his timelines. It just made him smile again and again, felt like his heart was wrapped into some soft and warm feeling again. And smile, smile again, alone in the dark gloomy room, until his only friend was offline, leaving him to his reality.

Today wasn't different, after all, and Yuri tried not to sink deeper in those dark thoughts, tried to remember that sweet feeling of shy hapiness at Otabek's clumsy words. And if it wouldn't change his world so much, it was better to imagine being liked, if not loved, by someone.