#on the other hand i could name 3 electricians off the top of my head who i would not at all be surprised to hear this happened to them | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

noladyme · 4 years

Text

My Only Sunshine - Chapter 1

Liv is as human as they come – faults and all. After a dark experience in her past, she is determined to live life on her own terms, and never let anyone claim her as theirs again. This becomes an issue, when she meets a 1000-yearold vampire, who is dead-set on claiming her as his own.

TW: Blood

It was a warm night, and I was wearing my favorite summer dress, seated on a velvet couch, in an old house.

“Well, miss Sunday. Thank you very much for coming all the way out here to speak to me. I’ll go over your resumé one more time, but I think I’ve heard all I need”. The dark-haired, pale man gave me a friendly smile. I knew better than to reach out my hand for him to shake, and simply got up to stand, and nodded at him. “Thank you, Mr. Compton”, I smiled. “Just let me know if there’s anything else you need… So, interview over?”. “Interview’s over”, he said. “Good! Calling you Mr. Compton was getting weird!”, I laughed. “Well, you did insist”. “It was a job-interview. It was only proper”, I shrugged.

Bill Compton walked me to his front door, and I was about to say goodbye, when he halted, just before going for the doorknob. “There is one thing, I wanted to ask you; and seeing as you’ve been so forthcoming with me, on everything else…”. The vampire narrowed his eyes at me. “What?”, I said. “Why did you decide to apply for the position as my day-person?”, he asked. I smiled embarrassedly. “Honestly… I need the money”, I said. “I’ve been hoping to pay down my student loan, but taking up extra shifts down at Merlotte’s just isn’t cutting it”.

“That’s not what I meant”, he said. “You just don’t strike me as the type of person to take a job for a vampire”. He raised an intrigued brow at me. “Not enough fang marks on me?”, I chuckled. The vampire chuckled, and it seemed that if he’d been able to blush, he would have. “You’re offering a good salary for what seems like an easy job; and one that I can do while still staying on with Sam. The fact that you’re a vampire doesn’t really matter to me”. “Why not?”, he asked. “Why should it?”, I retorted. “Some might say it’s dangerous to work for one of us”, the vampire said. “You’re no more likely to hurt me than any other vampire around – or human for that matter”, I said. “Besides; Sookie speaks highly of you, and I trust her”. “Well, she speaks highly of you as well”, he said.

He seemed to think for a moment, before coming to a conclusion. “If you want this job, it’s yours”, he said. My jaw dropped. “Really?”, I asked. The vampire confirmed it with a nod. “Thank you, Bill. You won’t regret it…! One thing, though… Day-person? Can’t we call it… secretary? Or assistant?”. He chuckled warmly as he opened the door for me to leave. “Please come by tomorrow. I’ll have a list for you with some things I need handled”, Bill said, as I went down the steps of the porch. “8 pm?”, I asked. “That sounds perfect”, Bill said. “See you then”. He handed me back the “resumé”, which I’d written on the back of a paper placemat from Merlotte’s. As I took it, I got a slight papercut on my finger. “Shit”, I muttered. Bill smiled slightly. “Would you like me to fetch you a band-aid?”. “Nah…”, I said, and looked at the trickle of blood. “You hungry?”, I teased. “I think Sookie might have a problem with me feeding from a friend”. “Alright”, I shrugged.

I began fishing my car keys out of my bag, and cursed to myself, as they fell from my hand, and landed in the gravel on the ground. I was about to crouch to pick them up; when I felt a gush of wind, and suddenly stood nose to chest with a very tall man. I had to tilt my head back to look him in the eyes. They were bright blue, and had a sharpness to them. “Hello”, he said, a cheery mischievous tone to his voice. “Hi”, I said, and went to pick up my keys again. The man – vampire, I realized – held them out to me, before I even so much as bent over. “Fuck, you’re fast”, I gasped. He put the keys in my outstretched hand, and grabbed my wrist, to look at my bleeding finger. “When I want to be”, he smiled. “Bill, who is this? Introduce us”.

Bill stepped of his porch, and walked warily towards us. “Eric Northman… This is Liv Sunday”. I found it hard to break eye contact with the tall vampire, mostly because he was one of the most handsome people I’d ever met. “Liv”, Eric said. He dragged out the sound of my name, pronouncing it Leev. “Yours…? She smells… pure”. I managed to look away, and turned my gaze to Bills face instead. His jaw was clenched. “My assistant”, Bill repeated, put a hand on my arm, and went to stand half way in front of me. The tall vampire let go of my wrist. “Off limits”. “I’m a big girl, Bill", I said. “I can speak for myself". “Yes, she’s a big girl, Bill", Eric smiled. “Let her speak for herself". I frowned at the tall vampire, and shook my head. “That means you too, Vlad", I said. A grin ghosted his face.

Eric leaned his head forwards, and burrowed his eyes even deeper into mine. “Liv… You’re interesting”, he said. “Please. Tell me more about you”. “Eric!”, Bill growled. “Why have you come?”. “To discuss matters surrounding the conference. It is election year, after all”, the other vampire replied, never taking his eyes off mine. “Now stop interrupting my conversation with… Liv”. The vampire-testosterone was heavy in the air, and I swallowed hard. “Maybe some other time”, I said. “Oh come now…”, Eric smiled, his eyes digging even deeper. I frowned at him. “I said no!”, I sneered. The tall vampire seemed taken aback, and Bills eyes widened. “Ok… I’m just gonna go”, I said.

Bill followed me all the way over to my car, and held the door for me as I climbed in. I opened the window to let some air into the cabin. “Drive safely now”, Bill said. “See you at 8 tomorrow. I’ll give your regards to Sookie”. Eric smiled at me. “It was nice meeting you, Liv”, he said. “Until next time”. His intense gaze made heat pool in my lower stomach, and I had to consciously tell myself to put the key in the ignition.

I drove home to my one-bedroom rental feeling happy that I’d nailed my job interview; and stirred from meeting Eric. I supposed he always had that influence on people; Bill probably just turned his mojo down, because he had Sookie, and didn’t need to impress people in the same way. Bill was the second vampire I’d met that I’d actually spoken to, since they came out of the coffin. Eric was the third, so I didn’t have much to compare him too; but I read magazines as much as the next person.

When I got inside, I took a cold shower; trying to shake the meeting out of my system. Before I climbed into bed, I checked my messages, and saw that Sookie had sent me a text, congratulating me on my new side-gig with Bill. I sent her one back, thanking her for hooking me up with the interview.

Sookie had been a good friend every since I got to town. I’d been down on my luck since leaving San Diego; but Bon Temps had been good to me so far. I had a waitressing job at Merlotte’s, on top of the one I’d just gotten with Bill – taking care of the things he needed done during the daylight – and some good friends in Sookie and Bill; and even my other boss; Sam. I’d even go so far as calling Sookies brother, Jason, a friend – even if he did try getting me into bed with him, whenever he could. I think the fact that I was so fervent in my dismissal of him, made him have some weird kind of respect for me. I was happy – settled, even. The last thing I needed was some blonde hottie trying to get in my pants; it didn’t matter if his name was Jason Stackhouse – or Eric Northman for that matter.

---

I slept in the next day, as my meeting with Bill had been quite late – or should I say, early, as I’d not been home until 3 am. My shift at the bar was a slow one, which was good for Terry, who was having one of his bad days in the kitchen. All 6 hours dragged along in a manner so boring, it was a relief when 7 pm. came along, and Arlene came to take over from me.

Arriving back at the Compton house, I was met in the door by Sookie. “Hey, Liv! Come on in!”, she grinned. “Bill’s in the living room”. “Is it your night off, Sook’?”, I asked. “Uh huh”, she said. “Bill’s taking me to dinner”. We walked into the living room, where Bill was waiting, with a somber look on his face. “Liv… I would like to apologize for Erics behavior last night”, he said. “He didn’t do anything wrong”, I said. “It’s not the first time someone’s flirted with me”. “Eric Northman flirted with you?”, Sookie chuckled. “And you didn’t end up with your legs around his waist?”. I mock scoffed. “I am a lady”, I said. “I tend to throw them around a man’s neck first”. Sookie punched my shoulder. “Slut!”, she grinned.

Bill looked very seriously at the both of us. “This is no laughing matter, ladies. Eric glamoured you!”, he said. I shook my head in confusion. “He didn’t…”, I said. “I saw him… He was using his glamour on you”, Bill repeated fervently. “I really don’t think he did. At least I didn’t feel anything happening”, I tried again. “Jeez… I worked for you for five minutes; and you’re already acting like my daddy”, I said.

The vampire looked confused, but Sookie broke the tension, by reminding him they had reservations. “You’re right, of course; sweetheart”, Bill said, and took a piece of paper from the coffee-table. “I made this list for you. On the top here is making an appointment with an electrician. I’ve been having some flickering lights in the kitchen. Of course, I don’t use it much, but I do want it working… Then there’s this case of TruBlood O-neg. The all-night supermarket won’t be getting another shipment for at least a week, and I can’t…”. “Honey? We’re late!”, Sookie sighed. “Where are you going?”, I asked. “A place in Shreveport. Ky-auntie”, Sookie smiled. “Chianti”, Bill said. “And you’re right. Let’s go”.

We all left the house, and walked to our respective cars, when I remembered something. “Hold up!”, I called out. I ripped some of the paper from the list, and quickly wrote down my phone number with an eyeliner from my purse. I ran over to Bill with it. “Here. You never got my number. Just in case anything else comes up”, I said. “Thank you”, Bill smiled. “Any big plans for you tonight?”, he asked. “I have a date with my neighbor’s cat. At least I think he belongs to my neighbor. He might be a stray… We eat tuna together on Thursdays”, I sighed. “I thought you were allergic to cats”, Sookie said from inside the BMW. “Our love is complex… and I take pills”, I said. “Go on now. Have fun”.

I waved them off, as they drove away; and got into my own car. It stalled a few times, before finally starting up, and I could drive home – just in time for my date with Mr. Whiskers. He was only mildly annoyed when I came out the back door 3 minutes late, with his bowl. “Sorry I’m late, honey”, I said. “I had a vampire to tend to”. The cat wailed at me, and attacked the tuna like it hadn’t eaten in weeks.

I lit a cigarette, and sat down on the steps, leaning against the screen door, reading a magazine. Some of my neighbors were having a party, and I enjoyed the music coming out of the window. It was a warm night, but not many mosquitos around. I was happy to be left alone from the little bloodsuckers, when my phone vibrated, and I found myself summoned by a large one. - Need you in Shreveport asap. Bill

I frowned at the phone. - I’m your day person. Nights are off limits.

- Fangtasia. Be there in an hour.

- Remind me to ask for a raise BOSS!, I replied; stomped out my smoke, and went back into the house to look up the address of whatever the hell Fangtasia was. Google let me know it was a vampire bar. Dinner must have been over quickly, and Bill had probably taken Sookie for a drink. I looked down at the attire I was currently wearing, and decided that if Bill insisted on being a jerk-boss, I’d be a jerk employee; and show up in cut off shorts, and ABBA t-shirt – that was fifty sizes to big, and hung off my shoulder – hopefully embarrassing him in front of his friends.

I cursed at Bill all the way to Shreveport. “Stupid vampire, ruining my date with Mr. Whiskers”, I muttered to myself, as I parked my rusty car next to a flashy convertible on the parking lot of the bar. There was a line down to the door, going all the way around the corner of the building. A blonde woman with a bored expression on her face stood at the entrance, turning away anyone she didn’t see fit for entry. I sent Bill a text, letting him know I was outside, and had no intention of waiting in line. He’d have to meet me in the lot.

I leaned against my car, kicking at a stray paper cup on the ground, when a cold finger poked my shoulder. I looked up into the face of the blonde woman. She was striking up close. “Liv Sunday?”, she said, sounding as bored as she looked. “Yeah?”, I said. She gave me an insincere smile. “Follow me…”.

She led me to the entrance of the bar, and a burly doorman lifted the red rope for us so we could walk inside. A song with heavy bass was leading some scantily clad dancers on podiums, and the air was heavy with cheap perfume and sexual frustration. The blonde led me to a table, and waved over a black clad waitress. “Order whatever you want on the house. Ginger will sort you out”, she said. The waitress smiled brightly at me. I shook my head. “No, I’m here to meet Bill”, I said confusedly. The woman rolled her eyes, and walked away. I would have given her the finger, if I wasn’t worried, she’d bite it off. “What can I get you?”, the waitress, Ginger, asked. “The most expensive thing you have that isn’t blood”, I sighed. “Long Island Ice Tea, coming right up!”, she grinned, and walked away; tugging at her tiny top as she did.

I took my phone out of my pocket, and saw I had a new text from a number I didn’t know. - Hello Liv. This is Bill Compton. I would like to extend my gratitude to you for accepting the position as my assistant. I’m writing this as Sookie is powdering her nose; as to not interrupt our evening together. Could I please ask you to add to the list, that I need to get in touch with a florist who knows where to get some sunflowers? Sookie likes them. Thank you very much.

I was deeply confused at this point, and not a little worried. If Bill hadn’t been the one to summon me to Fangtasia, then I was currently in a strange bar, surrounded by vampires, without a companion; just sitting around like a delicious crab leg on a buffet table. Sure, there were humans around, but they all seemed more focused on getting the attention of vampires, than helping me out, if needed be. I texted Sookie. - What’s Bills number? I think someone texted me, pretending to be him.

She responded quickly. - Who? Are you ok? Where are you?

I wrote back. - No idea. I’m in some place called Fangtasia.

I was still holding my phone, when Ginger returned with my drink, and set it down. She seemed about to say something to me; when suddenly she bowed reverently. “Master…”, she said, sounding like she was having a strange sort of orgasm.

I looked up, and saw that Eric Northman was standing by the table, with the blonde female vampire next to him. He gave me a slight smile, and sat down across from me; relaxing against the backrest of the chair. “Jag är inte din budbärare, bare för at du vil knulla en liten människa!”. The blonde seemed annoyed, but I didn’t understand her words. “Slapna av, Pam. Det här är annorlunda”, Eric said. “Fika på hende, då. I don’t give a shit. Just don’t ask me again”, she snarled. ”Pamela!”, Eric said firmly. “Leave us”.

“What’s up her ass?”, I muttered. “Pam doesn’t take it up the ass; she gives it”, Eric said matter-of-factly. I narrowed my eyes at him. “You texted me…”, I said. “I did”, Eric said. “Go away, Ginger”. The waitress backed away, her eyes still on the floor. “Master. Yes, master”. I raised my brows. “Wow…”. I met Erics eyes hesitantly. “Why am I here?”. “Because I wanted to see you…”, he said. He dipped a finger into my drink, and licked it. “Don’t drink this. Someone put drugs in it”.

I swallowed hard – a sudden flashback striking me, taking me to a place I didn’t want to go. “Liv?”, Eric said. “What?”, I snapped. The vampire seemed taken aback. “You’re very brave”, he said. “I don’t know what you mean”, I muttered. “Speaking to me like that… and the text you sent me back, when you thought I was Bill. You obviously don’t know a lot about vampires”. I shrugged, trying my best to seem at ease with the conversation.

“How did you get my number?”, I asked; pushing the drink away gingerly. “I’m not listed”. “I flew over Bills house, as you wrote it down”, Eric said. “I have very good eyesight. You used a .01 Ultra Black eyeliner”. “That’s kind of creepy”, I said. “You’re a flying, creepy guy”. Eric laughed heartily, the sound coming from deep within his chest. “You’re funny”, he said. “It’s like you have no sense of self-preservation”. “Well, I figure you didn’t go through all the trouble of flying over Bills house to get my number; just so you could kill me”, I said. “At least… I hope you didn’t”. Eric looked towards the bar, at the tender behind it. “Chow, get her a fresh one. Make sure it’s drug free”, he said, so quietly, I almost didn’t hear it. I realized the bartender must be a vampire as well; that was the only way he’d be able to hear him. “You don’t have to… I’m fine, really”. “It’s no trouble", Eric assured me. “This is my bar after all. It’s in my interest to keep the patrons happy". “I’m not a patron…”, I said.

Eric ignored my words. “Your t-shirt… I like it”, he said. “I’m related to the blonde, you know…”. “You’re Swedish?”, I asked. A fresh drink appeared in front of me, and I looked at it hesitantly. “It’s safe”, Eric said. “Yes, I’m originally from Sweden…”. “So, you were speaking… Swedish, before?”. Eric nodded. “You name, Liv; it’s actually the Swedish word for life”. “Huh…”, I muttered. “I always thought it was kind of geriatric”. Erics eyes lit up with a mischievous glint. “Quite the opposite… It suits you. You seem full of life”. I cleared my throat uncomfortably, and took a sip from the straw. The drink was delicious. “And… when are you from? If you don’t mind me asking”. “Are you asking how old I am?”, Eric smiled. I blushed, and took a second sip. “I am a little over 1000 years old”.

I choked on my drink, and suddenly, Eric was next to me; gently patting my back with one hand, and holding mine with the other. “Are you alright?”, he said worriedly. “Yeah, I’m fine”, I croaked. I looked up into his eyes, and saw true concern. “Really”, I smiled. Eric sat back down on the chair opposite me; still holding on to my hand. His own was cool, but not cold. I guessed he’d recently fed.

I bit my lip. “Are you really 1000 years old?”, I asked in a whisper. “Yes”, Eric confirmed. “I was a Viking”. My eyes widened. “Like with the… pillaging, plundering and… raping?”, I said. Eric smiled smugly. “I didn’t need to rape to bed a woman; or a man for that matter”. “Huh…”, I said; and took a deep sip from my drink. “Well, you do have that tall, blonde and handsome thing going for you”. He ran his thumb over my knuckles. “You find me handsome?”, he said. “Every person in this room finds you handsome”, I retorted; rolling my eyes. I looked towards a nearby table, where a young woman with obviously dyed black hair was starring at us. When her eyes darted towards me, she looked like she wanted to scratch my eyes out.

“Tell me about you…”, Eric said. “Why?”, I asked. “Because it’s only fair”, the viking-vampire said. “In the last ten minutes, I’ve told you my age, occupation, sexual orientation; and I’ve saved you from getting drugged". I was painfully aware that Eric probably had a million different ways of getting what he wanted from me, but for some strange reason, I didn’t think he’d use any of them. Not yet anyway. None the less, I still didn’t see his reason for wanting to know. “I meant, why are you asking?”, I said.

Eric played absentmindedly with my fingers – or maybe not so absentmindedly; as he seemed to know exactly where and how to stroke my fingers in a way, that sent signals straight to my core. "You’re interesting“, he said. “And Bill interrupted me before I could finish my glamour on you, to get you to tell me". I chuckled softly. “You didn’t glamour me", I said. “Of course I did", Eric retorted. “Sorry, but I think you have little too much faith in your own abilities“.

He let go of my hand, and sat back straight in his chair. For a long time, he didn’t speak, just starred at me, before his pupils suddenly dilated, and a tranquil and yet almost flirtatious expression spread over his face. “Liv…”, he said softly. “Tell me; what’s your favorite sexual position?”. My jaw dropped. “That’s absolutely none of your business!”, I growled. Eric looked completely confused, and even paler than his usual pasty shade. He furrowed his brows, and moved his head forwards; almost crouching in his chair, as to reach my eye-level. “You want to tell me, Liv", he said, his voice alluring. Abso-fucking-lutely I wanted to tell him; but not under our current circumstances. As it was, Eric was being completely inappropriate, and I had no intention of continuing our conversation. I stood up. “Thanks for the drink. Now, if you don’t mind, please go to hell".

I walked towards the door, and made it halfway through the crowd, when suddenly, Eric was standing in front of me. He looked almost enraged, and towered over me menacingly; starring into my eyes so hard, I could almost feel it physically. “Liv. You want to tell me about yourself", he boomed. “I want to go home!”, I hissed, trying to pass the imposing vampire. He moved slightly, making me have to brush against his chest with my shoulder. Eric’s hand was suddenly on my upper arm. I froze in place, as he lifted my hair slightly, breathing in my scent. “What are you?”, he asked in a low voice, his cool breath sending annoyingly pleasurable shivers down my spine. I looked up into his eyes again; and jumped a bit, when his fangs popped out. The deepest, darkest part of me wanted to put my finger to one of them, and see how sharp they were.

“Eric!”, Bills voice boomed over the music. Sookie came out from behind him, walked straight up to the 6’4 inches vampire, and hit him over the shoulder with her purse. “Looks like that’s two dates you’ve ruined tonight”, I said. Eric smiled. “But ours was going so well”, he said; his fangs retracting again. “This wasn’t a date…”, I said. “This was you tricking me into meeting you”, I hissed. “You had another date tonight?”, he asked, darkness ghosting his face. I gave him a sarcastic smile, and pulled my arm out of his grasp, stomping out of the club, past Pam. She looked amused at the situation, and stepped back to let me get to the parking lot.

With shaking hands, I opened my car door. Bill and Sookie weren’t far behind me. “I am very sorry, Liv”, Bill said. “Had I known there was a chance Eric would…”. “Forget it, Bill”, I said. “I’ll take care of the things on your list tomorrow. Right now, I just want to go home… I’m sorry I ruined your date”. “It’s not your fault”, Sookie said earnestly. “Do you want us to follow you home in Bills car?”. “No, I’ll be fine… Just, go salvage whatever you can of your night”, I said. I gave Sookie a half hug, and nodded at Bill.

Eric was staring at my car, as I drove away. I saw him exchanging a few words with Pam, before he went back inside Fangtasia.

---

I had the next day off from Merlotte’s, and after I – once again – slept in, I had plenty of time to take care of my errands for Bill. When I got back home from having dropped of a case of O-neg on his porch, I texted him the info of an electrician and a florist who could help him out with his other requirements.

My mail had arrived while I was gone, and as I got ready for a night of serving beer, I looked through the bills and catalogues; finding among them an envelope without sender. Inside was a picture of a young woman in a seductive pose, wearing very little. I recognized myself immediately. It had been taken my last night at my old job at Sugar and Spice – a night I didn’t remember much from, due to a drink I should never have accepted. I almost fell into a kitchen chair, and shuddered. I put my hand to my chest, remembering the wound I’d earned that night.

He’d found me. I wasn’t surprised. Though my number and address weren’t listed, if Thomas wanted something, he’d get it; he had a way of talking himself in to things. Either that, or he’d use brute force. The thing that made me confused, was the fact that Thomas wasn’t even supposed to remember me. I was supposed to be just another dancer he’d taken pictures of, at the club.

I was startled when my phone suddenly rang. I picked it up, when I saw it was Sam. “Hey…”, I croaked. “Hey, Luce’… I’m really sorry to ask you this, but Coby has the mumps, and Arlene needs to…”. “You need me tonight?”, I asked, almost hopefully. I didn’t want to be alone. “You’d be doing me a big favor…”, Sam said. “I’ll be there”. “Thanks, cher’. I’ll give you tomorrow off instead”, he replied in a relieved voice. “No problem what so ever”, I said. “I’ll be there in a few”. I hung up, and hurried getting ready for work.

Merlotte’s was full of people; which was pretty typical for a Friday night. The tips would be pretty good, and I wouldn’t have to be alone with my thoughts. Sookie handed me a clean apron, and I tied it around my waist, avoiding her gaze. “You seem out of sorts”, she muttered, as I tied up my hair in a bun. “Seem? Or are you listening in…?”, I said. She looked suddenly sad. “I’m sorry, Sookie… It’s been a hard day”. She smiled a little. “I can’t read you as well as I can some other people, you know”, she said. “Whatever comes through, is usually just colors and emotions. But they’re pretty intense, so I try to avoid them”. “Why?”, I asked. “I don’t know”, she shrugged. “It’s just like that with some folks… Makes it easier to be your friend, though”. I squeezed her hand, and walked out to take some orders.

Hoyt and Jason were nursing beers in a corner, and I walked over to check on them. “Everything good here?”. “Much better, now you’re here”, Jason winked. “You know, I saw your car out back. It ain’t looking good. I’d be happy to give you a ride, when you clock out”. “I’m sure you would, but I’m not in the mood for crabs tonight”. Hoyt laughed heartily, and Jason smiled and shook his head. “Any food for you gentlemen?”, I asked. “LaFayette has some gumbo cooking tonight”. “Sounds good. Hoyt?”, Jason said. “Two bowls, then”, Hoyt smiled. “Coming right up”, I said, and took their order to the serving hatch; winking at LaFayette in the kitchen.

For the next few hours, I pushed away all thoughts of possessive men, and focused on earning my wages. Bill stopped by to give Sookie a kiss, and thanked me for my help so far; leaving me another list. “Just some time next week, will be fine”, he said. “You’re welcome to text me, Bill”, I said. “I dislike using the keys to type”, the vampire grumbled. “I prefer the old-fashioned way of writing”. “Did you use a quill?”, I asked, giving him a sly smile. “Just a no. 2 pencil”, he retorted. “And once again; I’m sorry…”. I groaned. “Please, stop… Nothing happened. I’m perfectly fine”.

Sookie gave me a slight look, which Bill caught immediately. “You’re not. What is wrong?”. “Sookie!”, I sighed. “Sorry! You’re pretty much radiating fear, honey”, she said. Bill looked at me earnestly. “I will do my best to keep you safe from Eric”, he said. “I don’t want you to worry about him”. “I’m not scared of Eric… No more than the next person, anyway”, I assured him; and walked towards the bar, to grab a tray of beers. Sookie followed me there. “What, then?”, she asked. I clenched my jaw. “Could you give this to Jane Bodehouse? I’m gonna go take my break”, I said.

I almost ran out the back door, and lit a cigarette. Sam was putting a bag of trash in the container, when I got there. “Everything alright?”, he asked. “Why is everyone asking me that?”, I almost snarled. Sam seemed taken aback. “Sorry… I’m just… It’s been a day”. “We all have those”, Sam said. “You want to talk about it?”. “Not really”, I said.

Sam scratched his head. “How’s it going, working for Bill Compton?”, he asked. “Fine, so far. It’s an easy gig”, I said. “Don’t worry, it won’t get in the way of my work here”. “I know. I just worry about you, is all”, he said. “You’ve had a strange look on your face all night”. I sighed deeply, not wanting to give away too much. “I got word from an old… acquaintance”, I said. “I’d hoped to avoid it”. “Ex?”, Sam muttered. “Not really…”. I swallowed hard. “Sam… If I… If some day I don’t come in to work… It’s not because I’m playing hookie”. “That sounds ominous…”, Sam said. “Just… I like this job. Bon Temps”, I said. “I’m happy here. So, if suddenly, I’m not around… I didn’t just skip town, ok?”. Sam walked up to me, and put a hand on my shoulder. “Liv, talk to me. What’s going on?”. Sookie stuck her head out. “Sam, we need to call Jane’s son again. She’s passed out on the pool table…”. Sam rolled his eyes, and went back inside, leaving me to smoke in peace.

My phone vibrated in my pocket. I had a text; from Eric, of all people. - When can I see you again?

I rolled my eyes. - How do I know you’re not watching me now?

The reply came within seconds. - You don’t. But I’m not. Do you want me to? I decided against replying, and went back inside – chiding myself for indeed wanting that.

When I got back home, I collapsed on my bed fully clothed – but not before having checked to see if all windows and doors were safely closed and locked. Even without A/C, I’d rather sweat than risk someone coming into the house while I slept.

My phone vibrated, and when I saw who was calling, I picked it up. “What?”, I said. “Why haven’t you replied to my messages?”, Eric said. Loud music was thundering in the background. I looked at the screen of my phone, and saw that I had multiple unread texts. “Because I was working. And because I didn’t want to”, I said. That last part was a lie. “What are you wearing?”, he asked. “A leather garter belt, and a top hat”, I sneered. “Really?”. I could hear his smile. “No. Goodnight, Eric”. “Read your messages”, he managed to say, before I hung up.

I more or less had to pry my eyes open to read the messages the vampire had sent me. - I’m not used to have my messages ignored. Well, get used to it, I thought. - I could come by your job. Just say the word. - I want to see you soon. When? At least he was asking, and not telling me. That was a step up from what I was used to. - Please. That one must have hurt. I sent him a message back. - I’ll let you know. And if you insist on texting more than a teenage girl, I’ll reply like one. Ttyl lol rofl xoxo

As soon as I’d dropped my phone on the bed, I smacked my forehead. I’d written xo. That thought kept me awake for hours, and I didn’t fall asleep until the sun was almost up again.

---

As soon as I woke a little after noon, I rushed out to handle Bills errands. He’d given me until the week after, but as I saw the picture sent to me laying on my kitchen table, I didn’t want to spend a moment longer in the house. I even called Sam to ask if he was absolutely sure he didn’t need me at the bar; but he all but told me that if he saw me anywhere near Merlotte’s, he’d throw me over his shoulder, and carry me home, so I could enjoy my day off.

A little after sunset, there was a knock on my door, and I was slightly startled to see Eric on my small porch. I swallowed hard. “What are you doing here?”, I asked. “I was in the neighborhood; and thought I’d save you the trouble of texting me, when you’d be able to see me”, he said. “Besides, I don’t want you driving that rust bucket all the way to Shreveport again. It’s a death-trap”. He looked towards my car, in the driveway. “You can see me now”, I said. “Wonderful”, he said, and once again dug his eyes into mine. “Invite me in”. “No…”, I said. He once again looked confused. “Why can’t I glamor you?”, he asked. “I don’t know… Maybe you’re impotent”. Eric barred his fangs; making me jump slightly. He looked dangerous. “Not nearly”, he said. “You shouldn’t test me”.

Not wanting him to think he’d scared me too much, I took a hesitant step out of the door, putting less than a foot between us. Eric smelled like nothing I’d ever encountered before. It was crisp, and yet warm; like expensive aftershave and salt water, with an undertone of something I couldn’t define – something musky.

“I don’t understand why you keep wanting to talk to me”, I said. “I get it, I’m human. Blood and sex, and all that… But you have a club full of willing participants to whatever it is you wanna do”. Eric nodded. “I know. It’s infuriating that I feel the need to be here”, he said. “But I think I found a fix for it”. “Oh?”, I croaked, doing my best to ignore the fact that a man, that looked more or less like a GQ model, was currently reaching out his hand to stroke my cheek. As his fingertips touched my skin, my breath hitched. “Yes. See, when I have sex with a human, I usually bore with them pretty quickly”, Eric said. “I thought we should just get it over with, so I can move on”. I took a step back, and my back hit the screen door. “I don’t want to have sex with you!”, I lied. “Of course you do. I’m a very good lover”, Eric smiled. “Now, invite me in, and I’ll undress you”. “Shove it up your ass!”, I said. Eric raised a brow at me. “Well, it’s been a while, but I’m up for it if you are”.

I scrambled to open the screen door, and get back inside the house. My body was screaming at me to give in to the sensation in my lower belly, but I told myself that I had to persist. “You should… go now”, I said. Eric stepped closer to me, and I felt his firm chest against my back. “Why?”, he asked, sounding genuinely confused again. “You’re… imposing”, I croaked, and turned to meet his eyes. They were piercing mine, sending tingles down my spine. “Stop trying to glamour me” “I’m not. It doesn’t seem to work on you”, he said; a hint of regret in his voice. “Though I wonder… would you let me test a theory?”. “What theory?”. Eric smiled. “Just humor me. Pam?”.

I nearly jumped out of my skin, when the blonde female vampire suddenly stood next to Eric; and hurried over the threshold, so neither of them could reach me. “What the hell?”, I said. “Yeah, Eric. What the hell? I’ve been waiting behind that tree forever. In my new Jimmy Choo’s”, Pam said. “Be nice, Pam”, Eric said. Pam drew her lips back in an insincere smile. “Hello, Liv. I am very glad to see you”, she said. “Happy?”. She looked out the corner of her eyes at Eric.

Eric gave her a look, and something unspoken passed between them. Pam seemed to shrink in front of me. “Liv, I would like you to let Pam try to glamour you”, he said. “What? No!”, I exclaimed. “I want to know if it’s…”. “Just you?”, I said. For the first time, Eric wouldn’t meet my eyes. I took a deep breath. “Fine. But I’m not coming outside”. Eric nodded. “Pam, try to glamour her. But don’t ask her to come outside where we can reach her”. He was trying to make me feel safe – it was almost endearing.

Pam took a step forward, and looked deep into my eyes. Her voice was soothing. “Liv… You want to invite Eric inside. You want to have sex with him”. I shook my head. “No… Not happening”, I said. She narrowed her eyes in confusion. “You… want to invite me inside… Have sex with me”. “No thank you”, I snarled. Pam stepped back, and began laughing. “What the actual fuck?”, she guffawed. “What are you?”. Eric stepped in between us, his back to me. “Thank you, Pamela. You can leave now”, he said. “Eric! She’s…”, Pam began. “Now!”, Eric growled. She disappeared as fast as she’d come.

Eric stood there for a moment, not turning to face me. I was about to close the door, when he spoke again. “I’m making you mine… And getting you a better car”. “The hell, you are", I sputtered. He spun around with wide eyes. “You’re saying… no?”, he asked bemusedly. “I’m not anyone’s; let alone yours”. Eric chuckled at me. “I just claimed you”. “Well you can shove that claim up your ass, as well”, I proclaimed. “You wanted me to tell you about myself”, I said. He didn’t respond, simply stood still and never diverted his eyes from mine. “I left San Diego to get away from a guy who couldn’t take no for an answer… I’m not about to throw myself into the arms of another one who does the same”, I said. “This… guy”, Eric said. “Did he hurt you?”. There was an angry edge to his voice. I looked down, and crossed my arms in front of me. “He did… It’s over. But only because I ran away”, I said. “He… It doesn’t matter. I just don’t want that again”.

For a long moment, he just looked at me; making me swallow to wet my dry mouth. “Alright”, he finally said calmly. “Are we finished?”, I asked, almost in a whisper. “We’re finished”, he said. “For now”. Eric lowered his head, looking earnestly at me. “As long as you say no to me, I won’t do anything”, he said. “I will not force myself on you, Liv”. “Why?”, I asked, genuinely surprised. “Do you want me to? I don’t mind playing games…”, Eric smiled. I shook my head. “Never mind. I thought we were having a moment here, but it’s gone”. I went to close the door in his face. “Liv!”, Eric said; his voice imposing. I halted, and looked at him again. “I don’t know why… But I will not”.

He turned around, and walked down the steps from my small porch. I took a deep breath, before running after him. He heard me coming, and turned around. “Thank you… For at least kind of taking no for an answer”, I said. I tugged at his jacket, to get him to lower his head, and I got on my toes; placing a kiss on his cheek. Once again, I was surprised to find his skin not icy, but simply cool; and I let my lips linger for a moment.

I was about to turn back, when Eric put both his hands on my shoulders, and looked me square in the face. I could tell he wasn’t trying to glamour me. “Be mine”, he said. My breath hitched, and everything in me screamed say yes!. “N-no, Eric… No, I can’t do that”. Eric looked as if I’d slapped him. My phone vibrated, and I took it from my pocket, looking at the screen. “It’s Bill… I have to take this".

Erics face dropped, and he let go of me. “Goodnight, sunshine”, he said, and walked away into the darkness. “Eric!”, I called after him. “I regret picking up your keys for you”, Eric replied, his back still to me. “I would have loved to see you bend over”.

---

#eric northman #eric northman fic #eric northman x oc #true blood #bill compton

95 notes · View notes

ciathyzareposts · 5 years

Text

Waxworks: Won! (with Summary and Rating)

A nice shot of the museum as the game comes to a close.

Waxworks

United Kingdom

HorrorSoft (developer); Accolade (publisher)

Released in 1992 for Amiga and DOS

Date Started: 11 June 2019

Date Finished: 23 June 2019

Total Hours: 17 Difficulty: Moderate-hard (3.5/5) Final Rating: (to come later) Ranking at time of posting: (to come later)

Summary: Waxworks is a first-person adventure game with some RPG elements. The protagonist enters his late uncle’s wax museum and must travel through time via four exhibits, to ancient Egyptian pyramid, a zombie-infested graveyard in 15th-century Wallachia, 19th-century London on the night of Jack the Ripper’s latest murder, and a 20th-century mine taken over by a malevolent plant. In each scenario, he inhabits the body of a “good” twin who must stop his evil brother; the culmination of his efforts will end a witch’s ancient curse on the protagonist’s family. The game uses the same engine that HorrorSoft built for three previous titles, including the two Elvira games (1990 and 1991). While the graphics have been improved from Elvira and Elvira II, the RPG elements have been lessened. That character gains experience and max hit points as he explores and fights, but he loses it all between scenarios. Combat difficulty is extremely erratic and really only applies to two scenarios anyway. The driving game element here is inventory-based puzzle solving. The game is notable for its gruesome death scenes, of which there are several dozen. *****

I began Waxworks hoping that, unfettered from Elvira, HorrorSoft would be able to make a better game. Alas. Elvira and Elvira II not only had more interesting settings but better RPG elements, including attributes, a spell system, and RPG equipment other than just a primary weapon. None of these elements were great in the Elvira games, but Waxworks mostly abandoned them entirely. Sure, it has leveling, but I’m not even convinced that leveling is that important.

The area of the London scenario as given in the game.

The modern equivalent in London.

The last two levels were a bit harder, I thought, than the first two. But I largely solved them the same way: Upon arriving in each scenario, I just assumed I wouldn’t last long. I concentrated on mapping and annotating as much of each area as possible, identifying items and puzzles, reloading upon death. Once I couldn’t map anymore and had a few puzzles I knew I could solve, I’d reload from the beginning and try a bit harder with the next character, until I finally found the right sequence to get through the level.

One thing I learned from the graveyard and its broken railing was to turn and face every wall and then run the mouse cursor around it, ensuring that the name of some barely-visible object didn’t pop up in the view window. Without this method, I wouldn’t have found numerous items in the mine level, where the walls have (to me) such a uniform color that I can barely pick out any detail.

Winning this scenario required me to notice that this small section of this support is burned.

The “Jack the Ripper” scenario had the character running around the streets of London, trying to intercept his brother, Jack, before he could murder another prostitute. The primary difficulty involves dodging MPS patrolmen and random mobs, both of which execute you the moment they step into your squares. Since these enemies start approaching from the moment you enter the scenario, you’re encouraged to flee the scene of the murder immediately. This has implications.

I’m not sure I agree with you a hundred percent on your police work there, gov’na.

Unlike the other three scenarios, there are no battles to fight in this one until the end. Instead, you run around invading houses and offices and assembling an inventory kit, none of which seems to lead anywhere. I got stuck entirely and had to look up a hint. It turns out that in the very first screen–the one you’re encouraged to leave on the double–there’s a barely-visible “bag” on the ground that belonged to the victim.

And I think I’m being generous with “barely-visible.”

When you open the bag, you find a diary, which leads to a story that suggests the last few victims have been deliberately baiting Jack in order to catch him.

That seems like a bad idea.

The first victim’s diary gives the name of another prostitute, whom you have to find by paying a pickpocket to relieve a pimp of his address book. After that, you track down the prostitute–Molly Parkin–in a wharfhouse, just before Jack is about to kill her. You duel Jack with a dueling cane–the scenario’s one weapon–and (after a couple of reloads, in my case), stab him through the heart and toss his body into the Thames. Bright light, back to the Waxworks.

Sword-fighting with the Ripper.

My last scenario, into which I was again rudely shoved by Boris’s butler, suggests that the “evil twin” has somehow turned into a hideous mutated plant and taken over a mine. His tendrils and spores cover the walls of the mine, sometimes resolving into deadly vines and pods. He excretes some kind of toxin that converts the miners into walking plant zombies. The character deaths are more horrific here than in any of the previous scenarios, including one animation in which vines rip the character’s head off.

Trust me, you want to thank me for not putting an animated GIF here.

Melee combat is nearly impossible on this level, and I suspect the player isn’t supposed to do it at all. Early on, you find a canister of weed-killer which reliably works on anything deadly in the mine. When it runs out, you can replace it with gasoline. As long as you have a lighter in your possession, too (found in the first square), the canister works as a flame-thrower. Once you know where these things are, you don’t have to fight melee combat except once or twice after the game forces you to give the canister to an NPC for a while.

Fire-balling a plant monster.

The scenario consists of a single small level that takes a while because of backtracking. One key puzzle involves a mining cart that rolls along the tracks after you’ve gone a particular distance east. You have to stop the cart with a length of wood, but you have to do it in precisely the right square, or the cart ends up blocking at least one vital passage. The worst part is that you might trigger the cart without even knowing it because you move down a side passage before the cart comes into view. I went through the scenario twice only to find the cart blocking the exit both times and not understanding how it got there or what I was supposed to do about it.

The mine scenario involves true NPC conversations, with dialogue options, for the first time. A wounded professor is in the first square, in a broken elevator carriage, begging for a doctor. The player has to find a blowtorch and a welder’s mask to free some captives from a cage. A doctor agrees to look at the professor; a soldier agrees to help demolish the mine if the player can find the right items; and an electrician agrees to fix the elevator so everyone can escape safely.

Getting ready to escape with all my NPC friends.

You have to find two gas masks and protective suits–one for you, one for the soldier–to safely enter the evil twin’s chambers. In a gruesome sequence, the player pokes out all the monster’s eyes before he and the soldier plant 8 sticks of dynamite in the monster’s chambers. The healer revives the professor, who provides an antidote to heal the electrician, who fixes the elevator, which you ride to the top of the shaft just after detonating the dynamite. It took me about 15 reloads to get the sequence completely right.

Sorry, brother.

Once you finish the fourth scenario, you find yourself back at the Waxworks. One more exhibit–the witch–is unveiled. The butler gives you four magic artifacts from the previous exhibits: an amulet, a ring, a knife, and a bottle of poison. (The butler is polite as he greets you, but I must note that he keeps shoving you to the final exhibit.) Uncle Boris explains exactly what to do with them once you return to the witch’s time: wear the amulet to avoid the witch’s spells, toss the poison at her to distract her, find a weapon and attack her, when she’s down, stab her in the throat with the knife, and escape back with the magic ring.

Lurch welcomes us back for the finale.

The final scenario has just one screen, and that’s pretty much exactly what you do. The weapon you find is a crossbow. If you’re not quick enough with any of the steps, she’s able to cast the curse and you lose.

This is a lot of drama over a chicken.

Even winning feels pretty dirty, as the game graphically depicts you shooting the old woman–who’s just had her hand chopped off!–in the eye with a crossbow bolt, then stabbing her in the throat several times with Jack the Ripper’s knife. Brutal.

And right then, we shoot her in the face.

Assuming you do it right, you return to the Waxworks to find Alex huddled in the corner. He wakes up and relates a “dream” in which after you killed the witch, she “muttered something” and you “turned into a demon with horns and hoofs.” This is perhaps setting up a sequel in which a different curse turned the protagonist evil, but I guess we’ll never know.

1. Does Alex somehow not realize that he’s still a teenager while I’ve grown up? 2. Does he look a little like Zach Gilligan?

In a GIMLET, I give the game:

5 points for the game world. You have to admit, we haven’t seen anything quite like it.

1 point for character creation and development. There’s no creation, and “development” is just an accumulation of levels and an increase in maximum hit points. Only two of the scenarios have regular RPG-style combat, so this type of development hardly matters. Plus, you lose it all in between scenarios.

3 points for NPC interaction. They’re mostly limited to the mine scenario, but it is fun to see some RPG-style dialogue and to make NPCs part of the puzzle-solving process.

An NPC professor has a lot to say about the plant monster in the last scenario.

4 points for encounters and foes. Despite the name of the category, for this type of game I typically use it to rate puzzles, and that’s what I’m doing here. They are neither the best nor worst adventure-game puzzles I’ve experienced.

1 point for magic and combat. I found myself missing the magic system of Elvira II as I repeatedly slashed at creatures. There are really no tactics in combat, and too much of the outcomes is based on luck.

Slashing at a plant monster with a metal rod.

1 point for equipment. There’s plenty of it, but it’s all adventure-style puzzle-solving stuff. On the RPG side, the best the game did is occasionally give you the choice of weapon.

Some screens offer way too much stuff to pick up, most of it useless.

0 points for no economy.

2 points for a main quest with no side-quests and no decisions.

5 points for graphics, sound, and interface. Graphics are very nice–but that’s only worth a few points in this category. Sound effects are sparse. People who like music will probably like the music. The dual keyboard/mouse controls work okay, but the buttons should have had keyboard backups.

This is one of a few games where you deliberately die a lot, just to see the death animations.

4 points for gameplay. It gets a little credit for nonlinearity, although there is something of an “obvious” order and I don’t consider the game “replayable” just because you can try again in a different order of scenarios. The difficulty wasn’t too bad, and the length was just about exactly right.

That gives us a final score of 26, worse than the 29 I gave the Elvira titles.

Tip: if you want people to believe you’re really providing a “parental warning” instead of an extra selling point, leave off the exclamation point.

Almost none of those 26 points are particular to RPGs. Remove the RPG categories entirely, and it would still get a 23. Thus, the moment I was finished, I hustled over to “The Adventure Gamer” to see what they thought of the title. Deimar reviewed it not even a year ago (first entry in November 2018; last in January 2019). He had many of the same problems that I did, particularly with backtracking and having trouble finding items (“for the most part, the puzzles are based on the worst kind of pixel hunting”). In the end, he gave it a 47/100, which was higher than the site gave Elvira II but not the original Elvira.

I didn’t think it was worth extra points, but the hint system in the game worked pretty well.

Waxworks was covered in the February 1993 Computer Gaming World by Chuck Miller. His review annoys me even though he basically feels the same way I feel about the game (lukewarm). It annoys me first because he admits he didn’t finish it; I guess CGW dropped that requirement at some point. But there are two other quotes that particularly irk me:

1. “Waxworks does have several weaknesses, the chief being the lack of an automapping feature, an amenity which has become standard fare for CRPGs of recent origin. Most role-playing games have become complex enough that it is simply too distracting and time consuming for the player to map each step as he or she goes The time has arrived to lay pencil and graph paper to rest.” If that time does come, I would argue that it will come when games no longer have discrete squares. Waxworks still operates on tiles, and the levels are pretty tiny. An automap would arguably make the game harder because the player really needs to annotate items and puzzles, and it’s questionable whether an automap would do that effectively.

2. “How does Waxworks fare as a CRPG? Well, better than most, but lacking in relation to some.” What?! I’d accept that statement if you replaced “CRPG” with “adventure game”–and mostly because I don’t have a solid gauge on adventure games. Does Miller even know what a CRPG is? Has he ever played a tabletop RPG? This game is at best an adventure game with a dab of RPG frosting. I’m surprised the review keeps referring to it as an “RPG” at all. And he thinks it’s better than most?

Deimar felt that the plot followed Elvira II too closely (“if you were to change the twin brother to Elvira, the plot would be basically the same”). I see what he means: Elvira II also had several discrete “scenarios,” culminating in a ritual that required you to do several things in a precise order. But I’m more intrigued by the hypothesis, raised in the comments section of my first entry, that the game began as a licensed tie-in to the 1988 film Waxwork and its 1992 sequel, Waxwork II: Lost in Time. The first film involves a wax museum owner, played by David Warner, who has collected artifacts from the “18 most evil people who ever lived.” He invites people to the wax museum to get sucked into the exhibits and thus lose their souls to the various evil individuals, thus granting power to the museum owner. The exhibits include one sent in ancient Egypt (where the hero must rescue his girlfriend from a sarcophagus), the Marquis de Sade (not appearing here but mentioned in the manual), and a zombie horde. The second film includes an exhibit with Jack the Ripper. There’s a tall, hollow-cheeked butler in the first film that resembles the one in the game. If Waxworks wasn’t a licensed title, they sure were inviting legal action.

The designer’s last name is spelled “Woodruff” almost everywhere else I see it, including in several prominent magazine interviews, but I have to go with what the game’s own credits use.

The idea is given credence by a February 1992 interview with HorrorSoft co-owner and designer Mike Woodroffe that appeared in the British game magazine Zero (thanks to commenter EonFafnir for digging this up). In his first sentences, Woodroffe suggests a direct relationship with the film before seeming to correct himself: “Waxworks, which we’re doing with Accolade, is based on the film of the same name. Well, not “based” so much . . . inspired, really. It’s inspired by the film.” You can almost see him picturing his lawyer’s reaction after the first sentence. The interview also suggests that the game originally had more than four exhibits. “There’ll be Jack the Ripper, numerous kings and queens, a pyramid, the Marquis de Sade . . . There’ll also be triffids.” I can’t stop imagining the great discussions we would have had about the Marquis de Sade and the game’s decision to make him “evil.”

Also worth noting is a failed attempt last year to fund a “special edition” of the game via Kickstarter. It was canceled in January 2019 after falling short of its goal. I’m not going to speculate on the reason it failed, but I will say that if you’re going to have a section titled “success of the original game,” showing and prominently circling scores of 70%, 78%, and 80% doesn’t really help your case.

This is the last we’ll see of this team, whose Simon the Sorcerer series does not have any RPG aspirations. Back we go to Darklands while I start to investigate an intriguing SSI game called Prophecy of the Shadow.

source http://reposts.ciathyza.com/waxworks-won-with-summary-and-rating/

#retro games #dos games #retro #crpg #adventure #amiga #oldcomputers #8bit #16bit #blog #repost

0 notes

originaldetectivesheep · 7 years

Text

A Life of Riley Part 2: The Building That Had A Grudge Against Furniture Or Something ch 3

Chapter 2

III

JREET JREET JREET JREET went the fire alarm, and I woke up to the acrid stink of electrical smoke and red lights going off up by the ceiling. Fire alarm. Fire. Probably in here, but it was echoing, echoing like from outside, so probably the whole building was going off, and even if it wasn't in here we had to get out while the fire department came. I rolled out of bed and grabbed a hoodie off my desk chair, sticking my phone in the pocket, just in case it was that Leo really was a bad-luck charm and this complex was going to burn down like his last one, and hustled for the door, pulling it on over my pajamas.

I kind of almost ran over Carolína on the step; she was moving slowly, wrapped up in her comforter like a puffy-quilted junior ghost, but I managed not to trip over her and not lock the door behind us, and we got over to the wall by the street in one piece, where the rest of the tenants – seriously, were there this few other people in the complex? – were starting to filter out bleary-eyed and underclad. The guys were already out: Remy was shivering in bare feet and a pair of warmup pants, arms wrapped around his taut, rippling abs, and Leo was completely clothed and looking around shifty-eyed, like he wanted to go hide in a bush or something before the fire department got here. I got a nasty cold feeling in the pit of my stomach that this was going to be our fault – because it was Leo's fault and whatever dumb thing he did, we didn't stop him from doing it – and that Remy was going to catch cold or something while we were out here for hours, and then want me to nurse him later. I could do something about exactly one of those.

"Jesus, Remy, what the hell is wrong with you," I said, pulling off my hoodie and wrapping it over his shoulders. "Were you like sleeping naked for some dumb reason? Why have guys never heard of pajamas? Isn't there a top to this warmup suit, and when you got the pants on where the hell was it?" I saw Carolína looking at me out the corner of my eye like she was already writing us into a fanfic or something, and stopped the zipper halfway up; I didn't know what I did that for, but I did know that it would definitely get weird if I zipped him all the way in. I shoved my phone into the pocket on my pajama top and turned over to Leo to disengage a little. "And you, Leo, what did you do? Why are you the only one of us out here with shoes on? You did it, didn't you – what'd you do?"

The fire trucks were pulling up to the curb behind us, lights on but not sirens, and I guess enough people were distracted that Leo could own up. "I… I kinda got out of the lab late, all right, and I went over to Karakoram to get takeout. I ate some of it in the store because I was hungry, and then closed up my stuff into the box and took the bus back home." He shoved his hands deep into his pockets and hunched his shoulders up. "And so when I got back, it was cold, and you can't really eat saag paneer cold, it gets lumpy, so I just put the box in the microwave to warm up. I threw out the plastic fork I was using back at the restaurant, so I thought I was okay and I wasn't going to melt anything buuutt I forgot that it was Bobby on shift there – you know him, right? – and he'll put candy in with stuff that's real spicy for takeout so people don't like hamster the anise seeds, and he put an AirHeads in the bag and I'd put that in the box and the wrapper's reflective sooo…"

So I facepalmed. "You microwaved – an AirHeads – without taking off the wrapper. You're in a physics lab. For crying – no, seriously, how much of our microwave is left? How much of the kitchen is left?"

"Hey – that's a good microwave – it was just a dumb mistake. The microwave shorted back and stopped, but then something shorted or blew back in the box, and that's when the lights went out and the fire alarm went off." Leo slouched, like he was ducking in behind me as the firefighters tromped in people's doors to clear the building and around the sides, looking for the breaker panel. "I'm pretty sure nothing's on fire, and it's just a fuse – the alarm just went off as a failsafe. It's fine. It'll be fine. We'll be fine."

"Yeah, for values of 'fine' to include 'half-frozen from standing on the sidewalk in bare feet in the middle of the night'," I answered, rubbing my hands against my upper arms. It was really cold out, once you stopped and noticed it. "You're fine, you set off the stupid alarm while you still had your shoes on, think a little bit about the rest of us."

"Sajitha, I think I'm good with this," Remy said, pulling at my hoodie, which he'd unzipped the rest of the way, "and if you like it's real loose, you know, so you could –"

"Nope," I said, cutting him off. "Could, but nope; this is going where all of your other ideas about sharing warmth end up, and that's still a nope." The firefighters who'd gone inside were coming out, yelling over at the ones by the breaker panel, and lights flickered on inside. Some of the other tenants were looking over our way, maybe making out that Leo still had all his clothes on.

"Hey, did you get anything inside unit nine?" one of the firemen asked to the rest of the guys milling around in front of the entrances, a short guy with his helmet off who'd been over by the main electrical box. "No, nothin'," the guy in front of our door answered; people were definitely looking over at us now. "Nothin' bad plugged in, nothin' on fire, nothin' weird."

"Well, they had some kinda crazy electrical load coming back from there; it shouldna done anyone but them, but Property had some some stuff jumped out at the main board, and the whole box went." He jerked a thumb back over his shoulder, around the corner and down to where the garage entrance was, in under the building. "I'll ask and see if anybody knows what happened; yous go and mount up if we're clear." The firemen nodded and started heading back to their trucks.

The short guy drew up in the middle, looking over the motley crew of freezing tenants standing on the sidewalk. "Okay – nobody's in trouble. Who's in unit nine?" I raised my hand, and the others followed around me. It took a minute for him to make us out, to look over our way. "Okay – you, you, with the shoes: what happened?"

"I'm sorry sir," Leo mumbled, half looking away. "Put an AirHeads in the microwave with the foil on sir. It was an accident sir. Won't happen again sir."

"Yeah, make sure it don't," the fire captain or whoever said, shaking his head. "Foil. Jesus. Friggin kids. Anyway, you're clear, go on back in, and don't put candy wrappers in your friggin microwaves." The firefighter stomped back to his truck, about to pull off the curb, and Remy turned to give Leo a smack off the back of his head, make it look like we weren't all the bad guys here, but from the dark stares we were getting, it was probably too little too late.

Like he was switching tracks, Remy suddenly stood up, smiling, waving, hand way up over his head as he looked down by the garage. "Hey! Sandra! Sandra! How you doing? I'm sorry, if our dumb ass got you out of bed the middle of the night." I took a few steps closer, squinting into the dark; that would be just like Remy, to go thirst on the management when all the other tenants here wanted to kill us, but looking down there under the half-light from inside the garage, Sandra was wearing her gray suit, and she was shepherding these middle-aged dudes in coveralls and toolbelts back to their van – plumbers? Electricians? Hadn't that firefighter said something about the property management jumping stuff out on the main breakers? In the middle of the night? What the hell was going on here?"

Sandra had seemed to jump, hearing him calling down, and when she turned around, her face seemed almost frozen into her big grin – maybe it was just the lights. "Hi Remy! Don't worry Remy! It's not a problem Remy! Go back to sleep Remy!" She seemed real stressed about something, and I was almost not even mad about how she was calling him by his first name every other word.

"That voice! Khee – Khee, you bitch! Give me my couch back! I'm still suing! Khee!" One of the other tenants, a spotty stringbean white dude in a onesie, rushed up next to us and was grabbing at the fence, screaming down at her. Sandra ignored him and sidled herself into the van with the plumber dudes, closing the door, but the guy kept at it: "Khee! Khee! You liar! You bitch! You thief! Thief! Give me my couch back!"

"Hold on – hold on a sec here," I said, putting a hand on the guy's shoulder. "Wait a second – isn't that the property agent? What the hell? What the hell do you mean she stole your couch?"

The guy threw my hand away with a slap. "Get your hands off me, you cunt," he spat; "What the fuck do you think you're doing, taking her side? You're in with her, aren't you – you fucking wastoids pulled the fire alarm, get us outside and let them rob us blind, is that it?"

I was so mad I almost forgot that I didn't have my brass knuckles with me – so mad that I might have been able to break this asshole's jaw in three places even without them. But Remy stepped in, in between us, a wall of solid, rigid, rippling back muscles in front of me. "Excuse me," he said, "but do you got beef with my roommate, with my labmate? Remy Villeneuve, Applied Physics, varsity taekwondo, unit nine; I'on't wanna throw hands on you if I ain't gotta, but if you throw you better believe you gon' fucking catch." He paused for a second, breathing out with a snort; the onesie punk's pupils were pinpricks, and whoever of his friends that had been coming up behind us had suddenly decided that wasn't such a good idea after all.

"Ap– Applied Physics?" he murmured, shaking and shivering in panic; so just the idea of Riley, somewhere out there, was more terrifying than Remy's actual fists and feet fifteen inches and half a second away from turning into a compound skull fracture. Good to know; I stepped around Remy, resting my hand at the small of his back so he would know I was there, to try and defuse the situation.

"That's right; we're the Applied Physics lab. It was a mistake – it was a stupid mistake, and we're not going to do it again, believe me." I glared daggers over at Leo, who was at least covering for Carolína and maybe didn't totally deserve it right now but still. "We're new here – can you at least explain what the hell you're talking about? What the hell is this with the property management stealing couches?"

"They're thieves! They're all thieves! They steal furniture – they rob you blind out of your own room! It happens to everyone – they've got to be in on it!" I turned back around, ignoring the hyperventilating jerk in the onesie, to try and see who was making these accusations; probably the tall Latin-looking girl in gray sweats in the front, her hair pulled back in a messy ponytail.

"Wait," I said, looking mostly at her, "everyone? What the hell? Why do you put up with it then? Why don't you call the police? Why are you even still renting here?"

"Because it's cheap, dumbass," someone answered, way back where I couldn't see who it was. I scowled, but I didn't have an answer; that was why we were here too.

"Yes, it's cheap," the girl in front said, gesturing with her hands, "it's cheap, and they keep making it cheaper when someone leaves! But they keep stealing – not clean out an apartment, but they steal a lamp, steal a table, steal a couch – it just vanish, and the management, they say there's no record – that the security didn't see anyone take anything out – that the doors aren't opened."

"It's gotta be someone with a key," a straw-haired Scandinavian-looking guy in a soccer shirt, basketball shorts, and all-over goosebumps said from over her shoulder, "someone with a master key – so it has to be the management, even if it's so stupid that we can't figuring why. No rhyme, no reason, never tell – you come home from class and maybe everything is fine, maybe it's only three chairs left at your dinner table." He shook his head, maybe confused, maybe shivering from the cold.

"We – we ran into something like this, weird stuff happening when people weren't looking, with the lab a while back," Leo started, obviously trying not to tell the whole truth about what had happened with the grinckles, not in front of these people who were in their own weird absurd crime scene and already thought we were all terrorist mad scientists, "and what we did was we marked out spots where we thought stuff might happen, and put up motion cameras. For like at home, couldn't you try like a security webcam or something and see what was going on?"

"We try the webcams, idiot!" the Latin girl spat, not ready to have her intelligence and good judgment questioned by a guy who put candy bars in the microwave with their wrappers on. "The cameras disappear! Or they don't show it – one frame the bookcase is there, and the next frame, seconds, it's only a pile of books on the floor! We tried it! It is not working! We need answers from the management, and they don't give!"

"They ain't give us any answers, an' they ain't give a crap 'bout what happens to us neither," another one put in, a crew-cut black kid with a Texas twang. "They jest cut the rent, or wait for you to cut bait an' run. We had these two ol' boys from Bolivia – Hector and Guzman – who lost all their stuff stick by stick until they was almost gettin' paid to live here; they couldn't afford nowhere else and they was stuck on stickin'. They was down to two lawn chairs an' a big ol' tube TV after six months – an' then one o' the chairs was gone, an' then the TV was gone – an' then they ran, an' I'on' know if they ain't stopped runnin' yet. And they ain't get nothin' from the management, not a sorry an' not the damn deposit back; nothin'."

"You'll see," the Latin girl said, shaking a finger at us. "You will see, and when you'll see, maybe it'll be too late. The next time you find the management, you don't blow them kisses; you go and grab them and tie them up, whoever, and then we get some answers about what is happen here." She glowered at us as she turned away, going back to her own apartment, and the prick in the onesie straggled past us likewise, heading back in, drama over and done with sitting around in the cold if the Applied Physics lab wasn't going to open up a black hole in the middle of the condo complex. I shrugged, and then I shivered. It really was cold out here, and if the lights were back on inside there was no reason to stand around outside and get hated on by any other randoms who might have beef. I shook my head and headed back for our own door; as I pushed it open, Remy set my hoodie back over my shoulders, soft and insulating, still warm from his skin. I pushed inside so that I didn't have to hear Carolína inhaling like her smile was going to cheshire-cat off the sides of her face.

"I'm going back to sleep," I said to nobody as I walked down the hall to the kitchen, "but Leo, I got to check first to make sure that the microwave isn't on fire and there isn't anything melted at the outlet. This won't take a second, and then you can take out your dumb AirHeads from your dumb saag and reheat it again. Just –" and I stopped, because there was no point in going on. There was no point in checking the microwave. Because there was no microwave to check. There was a microwave cubby up over the stove, next to the refrigerator, and a socket in the cubby with some faint scorch marks by one of the outlets, and an Indian takeout box sitting on the floor of the cubby, but there wasn't any microwave in the cubby that might have once been plugged into the socket, might once have had the takeout box sitting on its turntable.

I turned around, checking with the others to make sure I wasn't hallucinating. They were all looking the same way, into the same blank hollow. "You guys – you guys, did anyone see a fireman take a microwave out of our room?" Three heads shook. "Nothing? Nobody? Then where the hell is it?"

Leo shrugged. "Search me – maybe those other guys were right, that furniture just disappears from here."

I shook my head, pacing angrily in front of the stove. "Furniture doesn't just 'disappear'. It has to go somewhere – it has to go somewhy. Conservation of matter. The basic problem that you don't get large-scale quantum distortions just casually around one particular apartment complex. Maybe there aren't thieves – not thieves per se; people might steal a five-hundred dollar couch, but they're not going to steal a thirty-dollar microwave. But it's got to be someone – it's got to be something."

"Hey!" Leo said, interrupting again. "I told you, that was a good microwave – a fifty-dollar microwave, you could probably clear it off for twenty second-hand."

I shook my head again. "Yeah, but why? Why steal a shit-heavy microwave that only gets you twenty bucks when you could scoop someone's backpack and get gone with five laptops, maybe a phone, a hundred-odd between whatever jewelry Carolína and I just had lying out? If you're going to break in and rob, why take a microwave – why just take a microwave?" I folded my arms. "It doesn't make sense. There's something here that isn't what it's supposed to be – and if those other guys have anything right about it at all, it's that the management knows more about it than they're letting on."

Remy raised a hand; of course he would try to defend his crush pixie. "Wait – are you sure? Like –"

"Remy, you heard the fire guys; the management had stuff jumped out on the main board, and that's why the short in here set off alarms all over the building. Who has breakers jumped out in the middle of the night? Why was Sandra here with those electricians or whoever? Whatever they were doing, they wanted to get it done under cover of darkness: when randoms going by wouldn't see them working, when nobody was going to be awake to notice if something weird went down."

He nodded, backing down a little. "Sure – sure, okay, I guess. It is weird, yeah, when you think about it. But I dunno that it's criminal, and I dunno if there's really anything we can do about it."

"Oh, I think there is," Carolína said, looking him over, eyes flicking briefly across to me as if to check in with how I was reacting to her plan. "I think that probably, out of all the people in this building, that we got the best chance to get a square answer out of the management – out of certain people in the management, if certain people ask them." She smiled wide, drawing the comforter up over her head so it was only her face cheshire-grinning up out at Remy.

He furrowed his brows, confused. "Huh? What? I don't –"

"San-dra," I said, teeth gritted so hard I was afraid they might start cracking. "You've got her deets, right? You've got to, I know you do."

He looked me over, face falling. "Well, yeah, but I –"

"So make a date already, loverboy," I said, knocking my fist into the cubby where the microwave had been. "That is Carolína's plan, which she is making me lay out for you because she is a troll and a shitbird: you will slide into our cute little rental agent's DMs and make a nice date for the place and time of our choosing, and then we will all sit down and have a very nice conversation with her about what the hell is even going on with this place and where our microwave got to. You can do that, right? You can make this tremendously hard sacrifice and make kissyfaces with a hot chick who's been thirsting on you nonstop since she first ambushed us, right? Big strong Remy isn't going to back down from this terrible terrible fate, right?" He nodded, something soft and uncertain in his eyes like he was torn up about it, but he already had his phone in his hand.

"All right," I said, throwing up a hand to the ceiling as I stomped out through them, back to my own room, "that's it, that's done. Send me the time and place when it's decided. I've had enough of this shit, and I'm going back to sleep." I slammed the door behind me and threw myself onto the bed – and just lay there, staring into the dark, too angry to fall asleep, until the dawn light started to come in around the blinds.

Chapter 4

#nanowrimo #alifeofriley #fiction

0 notes