Here there be fiction

[Remle Boyd]

Unfair

a fic for Axelle

So, it was over.

She’d said all that needed to be said as she wished her Papa and his new…husband, all the best and watching them drive away in their moving van shortly after their wedding party had concluded.

When she’d brought her boyfriend home two years ago she hadn’t imagined he’d become her stepfather…second stepfather? Step-stepfather? Christopher Flint wasn’t her real dad after all and like everyone else in her life…everyone else, he left her…with the man she had thought would be hers. She stood still for a moment, looked around and headed back inside the building to wish everyone else goodbye before helping who stayed behind dismantle the table and chairs, sweep the floor and pack away the food.

She didn’t have to of course but, she wanted to stay a little longer because what awaited her was an empty house. Her grandfather had retired to travel the world with friends just last year and after her father had proposed to his partner they had both decided that it might be best if Christopher moved into the city with his new husband after the wedding. They’d found a place fairly quickly, only had to travel out there to do renovations.

Axelle could remember countless discussions the two men had within earshot about how great this move would be for Christopher’s growing musical career and what life would be like as newlyweds with their first place. It was enough to make that little green monster in her heart grow. But she wanted her father to be happy. She’d been trying to get him to date for years and when he confessed to fact that he found her new boyfriend attractive (a man by the way, that she had nervously danced around for months) she hadn’t been worried necessarily, her boyfriend was incredibly good looking.

But then she realized how easily her papa and her boyfriend got along. How much they already had in common, how casual their touching got. One day it just seemed like too much. She’d sat her boyfriend down and they’d had a long discussion about many things. The end result was one she came to regret many times. She gave her ex-boyfriend and her father her blessing to date…it was so insanely obvious they were meant to be together that she couldn’t bring herself to stand in their way; but she didn’t think it would end in marriage.

So now here she was, standing at the doorway to her now empty house with its garage filled with half-finished projects and work, examining a life where she always seemed to come up on the losing end of her relationships. Her biological father hadn’t even been interested in the outcome of her; her mother had left when she was 2, dying 4 years later. Her grandfather had left recently and now the only person left in her life had married the man, whom she had assumed was the man of her dreams (not his) and moved away.

She wasn’t really his daughter after all. Her papa could leave whenever he wished and no one would blame him for not looking back.

She stifled a sob and opened her door before realizing she hadn’t actually unlocked it first before shutting it carefully and sinking down to cry on the floor. She knew, she KNEW that her papa didn’t feel that way about her. She knew that he would always be her father no matter what anyone else said and that the reason he and his husband had moved out was so that she didn’t have to. So that she could keep the house that was paid for and have a place to live without worry. That was not the act of a selfish, cruel man.

But it was so hard to remember the positive things when all she feel was sadness and anger at how utterly unfair life seemed to be for her. She just couldn’t win.

[Remle Boyd]

Shadow Composer

a fic for Remle
originally for a challenge but scrapped in favor of "The Devil and Ms. Boyd"
TRIGGER WARNING FOR QUESTIONABLE SANITY AND VIOLENCE

They called her an angel of music.

Her response was to keep playing the piano. She didn’t need their approval, not that she would have voiced that opinion even if she could. There had been an accident when she was younger…she didn’t talk anymore, never uttered a sound as she composed sheet, after sheet, after sheet of music.

There were all sorts of words they used for her as she kept up a blistering pace, every day a new sonata, an entire orchestral piece written in a week, each instrument blended to perfection. Her parents worried about her constantly, begged her to stop but she couldn’t sleep. The darkness was her friend anyway.

She might be going a little mad.

She kept seeing things that weren’t there, shadows moving along the walls in the strangest shapes. She’d heard once that lack of sleep did that to one’s body. They were never horrible things, just animals frolicking, fish swimming, a man and woman locked in an embrace. They danced to the music and she loved watching.

“I just don’t know what to do doctor, she stares at the wall all day and writes music, she hardly sleeps, barely eats…can’t you do anything?” her mother whispered worriedly as her daughter’s fingers kept moving over the keys, furiously playing something that she’d yet to write down.

“Perhaps separate her from the instrument?” the doctor supplied gently. “She might just be overworking herself, she’s being hailed as a genius…it adds too much stress on the body,” the doctor’s dubious voice sounded from next to the worried woman as he closely watched the musician staring at the sedentary shadows on the wall.

~*~

They took her piano away. She was furious of course but resigned. Her mother cried all the time, and cowered away from her daughter’s accusing, angry eyes. Still she said nothing; the shadows had stopped moving…they had abandoned her when the piano had fallen silent. Her fingers stroked against the table, the strains of a melody forming in her head as her sleep deprived eyes once more picked up a hint of movement from a nearby corner. A smile curved across her face, her mother screamed and fled the room but it didn’t matter…the shadows were dancing.

~*~

She didn’t need people…she had the shadows with her. It was a shame though; she’d really loved her parents. They shouldn’t have threatened to send her away…

The axe lay on the floor, bloodied and abandoned, her red-stained fingers smarting from prying open the lid of her beloved piano. The shadows were dancing again and she smiled as she watched them. Yes, someone would come eventually and see what she had done but she just couldn’t bring herself to care. She needed her piano; she needed the music for the shadows.

She wanted to watch them dance.

[Axelle Flint]

A Short Conversation
(canon ~ written with help from Jon as Christopher Flint)
((takes place before "strings of fate"))

"Dad! I can't find the sweater that George gave me and I wanna wear it!"

Christopher was slid underneath an old sedan. When he heard his daughter approach he sighed out and turned his head, calling from underneath. "Well, if you'd stop throwing close around it'd be easier to keep track, wouldn't it? Did you check behind the couch?"

Axelle frowned, and reached under to carefully lift the car up so she could actually speak to her father face to face. "Yes, and my closet, and the laundry room, did you see it anywhere? It's the one that looks like the British flag," she added even though she knew that her dad was aware that was only sweater George had given her.

He was reaching up as the car was raised up. He sighed and crossed his arms over his stomach, the ratchet resting on his chest as he looked over her. "You know, I've got more to do than look for clothes?" He lifted up and moved away from where he was. "Drop the car. Gently! You know that puts strain on the axle."

Like any put-upon teenager Axelle sighed and (gently) put the car down again, making sure it was on the supports properly as she did, even though her dad was clear. "Sooooorrrrry," she meted out a bit sarcastically (again, being oh-so-put-upon) and turned to enter the house again, but not before petulantly glaring at her father with reproach.

Chris grabbed a dirty rag and wiped some grease off of his brow, though all it really did was smear it across his brow. He followed behind her while cleaning off his hands. "I put a load in the wash earlier. I don't know, I grabbed some of your stuff lying around where it shouldn't be and tossed it in. Though I didn't check each piece or look at it."

"Oh...okay," Axelle said a bit less sullenly but not entirely happy. She hadn't exactly gotten the answer she was looking for which was "it might be somewhere in the vicinity of the hall closet" but knowing that it was probably being washed was a good sign. It would also explain why she couldn't find it ANYWHERE and it was a pretty hard sweater to lose.

"You going somewhere baby?" Chris asked while following her. "Make sure you wash your hands before you start fishing into the cleaned clothes… May not be dry either, unless grandpa moved it over." He slid the ratchet into his back pocket.

"Just out, I wanted to take a walk around town, maybe meet up with some people if I happen to see them around," she explained as she dutifully washed her hands and then dried them on a towel before changing direction into the laundry room. The dryer WAS going, because the apparel gods were with her but looking at the timer suggested that this task had only been started 5 minutes ago. Her sweater wouldn't be dry yet.

"Just out…? Maybe meet up with some people?" He said a little skeptically before leaning against the wall. He pressed his back against the doorframe and shifted some, trying to get out an itch at the center of his back. "Maybe, huh? And what people might you -maybe- run into out there, Axelle?"

Damn. "Well, like if George is free we might meet up and Marcus said something about a movie the other day and you know I haven't seen Kam in a while because she's in college now," she was tripping over things now. "And my friend Koty said he wanted to talk about some...thing...." her brain failed her as she kept trying to avert her eyes from her father. She gave up rather hurriedly with "Koty wanted to take me to the park for a picnic..."

Chris listened to her list off all of those 'possible' events that 'could' happen on a 'walk'. He took a breath as she said the name 'Marcus', but it wasn't until he heard Koty that his arms crossed over his chest. Well there it was.

"Oh is that so? Koty wanted to take you to the park for a 'picnic'?" His fingers tapped against his arms while watching her. "Uh huh… And it would just be you and him at this thing?"

"DAAAAAADDD!!" Axelle wailed pleadingly. "It's a picnic and he made food and we're gonna play Frisbee and stuff!" she insisted as she reached for a clean and dry sweater that was hanging on a rack. She actually wanted to wear a different sweater now but needed something to do with her hands. “That’s all I swear...well and talking but like, that's a given."

He took a deep breath and shrugged. "Well, it's a pretty good day for a picnic I guess… And it makes sense. After all it's about lunch time." He looked over the sweater. Oh she was going to need more than that. "You might need to get a jacket… But otherwise, I'm sold on the idea."

Axelle was relieved. She was expecting something far more embarrassing...the dreaded TALK...again...."oh...okay, I'll go get my jacket.." she said obediantly, still a bit shell-shocked and wary as she edged her way past him and across the living room to mount the stairs. They groaned loudly under her feet and she frowned. "Dad you really need to fix these stairs, they sound awful!" she chastised.

While she was off to fetch her jacket, he moved over to the exit and grabbed his own, worn, leather jacket from the hook beside of the door. He pulled it on before grabbing the keys to the truck. He then grabbed his wallet and cell phone; in case Koty didn't have enough food for him provided he might have to swing by a sub shop or something. "Yeah, I'll get on that when I'm done with the Oldsmobile coming in." He said up to her with a bit of a smirk. It'd been a few months since someone brought in an Oldsmobile; it'd be a few more months until the next one he figured.

Axelle got her jacket and came downstairs again; stopping as she saw her dad had also donned a jacket. "Are you going to get the Oldsmobile?" she asked on confusion since he'd just been working on a car a few minutes ago in the garage and she assumed he'd be going to finish it

"Nooo, you're kidding. Picnic…Frisbee… 'stuff'? I told you I'm sold. A picnic sounds like a great idea, and I am hon-gry. You don’t think this Koty would have a problem with me coming, do you? I don’t.” He smirked brightly up to her on the stairs before patting his keys. "You ready to go?"

"Dad..." Axelle began carefully, trying to keep the panic out of her voice. "You can't come with me, it's just supposed to be me and Koty...and we'll be in public..." she tried to impress upon him as to the seriousness of this issue because she was 18 and she really, really, really didn't need (or want) him be chaperoning her not even close to a date (maybe).

"Yeah, sure. I like this as a first little get together, but I don't see an issue with the three of us having the first 'picnic' together." Picnic. It wasn't a term he had ever used for date, but it was acceptable as one here. "And if it's public I don't see the problem. The whole outside world gets to be there, but not your dad?"

"Dad, the general public will be looking on from a respectable distance not sitting on the blanket with us eating my...our food!" she corrected.

"Well the general public hasn't fed you for a long time now and deserves someone else to pay for the meal. Now, I'm going to be taking you… Maybe we can discuss how long and how close I'll be staying inside of my truck." He motioned to the door. "Or we can just go ahead and put this on hold for now and you can help me put in a new head gasket."

Axelle just stared at her father with something akin to horror. However she knew from past experiences that it would be rather stupid for her to try and make him not come...he was stubborn and if nothing else, protective. Sighing as she put on her jacket and trudging (yes trudging) like she was about to be executed she exited the house to make her way to her dad's truck. Then a flash of inspiration! If she could just run maybe she could escape! To that end she launched herself suddenly down the end of the driveway, only to trip over her own feet five seconds later and land (hard) at the end of the driveway. She laid there for a moment knowing she wasn't hurt but wishing she could die anyway.

Chris hadn't really expected her to run… He expected -something-, but running wasn't the last thing. Maybe a punch to the truck, or breaking the engine or something, but not running. He looked to her on the floor with a flash of worry. It didn't last long. He knew better: She wasn't hurt, couldn't be hurt. Just humiliated, but he was still his baby girl and he couldn't help but worry.

"You got it out of your system, Crash-endo? Get your tukus in the truck." He entered the truck on the driver’s side before shouting out. "And if you rip off the door again in a huff, not only will you have to hold it to the truck the whole drive over, but you'll be grounded from doing anything for a week."

Utter humiliation... Axelle heaved a sigh and picked herself up, dusted off and slumped off to the truck, doing her best not to pull the door off its hinges because she hated being grounded. She sat in and buckled herself up, crossed her arms over her chest and glared out the front window. "Dad...I'm 18 now you wouldn't do this when I'm 20!!" she tried to reason with him. ("Yes father, you're being strange...you don't want to be strange father do you?")

"Maybe I won't but you aren't 20 now, so I don't really see your argument." He started the truck up and pulled out, looking over her to make sure that she had buckled herself in. "You know you're starting to make me worry a bit. Is there a reason you don't want me to go with you? Something else you aren't telling me?" He reached into his pocket while looking back to the road, turning out of the driveway behind another small car.

Axelle shifted uncomfortably because sharing these things with her father made her...well...uncomfortable. "It's not like Koty can touch me and I can't touch him cuz he's like...squishy." she said softly. "But he's really nice and we just...wanted to see if we could make something work. I think I like him romantically but I’m not sure and he doesn't seem sure either..." she looked out the window as she twisted her hands together in her lap. "But it feels weird to say we're dating because neither of us is sure so like....this stuff is...pre-dating?? maybe? Kinda...I don't know what to call it. He's not my boyfriend."

He listened to his daughter while rolling down the window. He rested his arm on the door while the wind rushed over him, shifting the Lake Monsters baseball cap on his head some. She seemed so hesitant and skeptical of the whole thing. It was bitter sweet for Chris. He appreciated that things were going slow; bot knew how painful that must be.

"Well of course he isn't your boyfriend yet… but you shouldn't try and keep this kind of stuff from me you know. Even if you were any good at it." He reached up and rubbed his neck some while looking at the car ahead turning off on a smaller road. "It's good that you are thinking about this. Nobody says you need to rush into stuff, just because of these sort of titles. Boyfriend, dating, you know. You have to go at your own pace. Or…even slower sometimes. Even if there isn't something to call it."

Axelle sighed and nodded. "Yeah," she answered quietly. "BUT SERIOUSLY THAT DOESN'T MEAN THAT YOU CAN SIT ON MY BLANKET AND EAT MY FOOD!" she added much more loudly, energy back to its natural levels as she attempted to try and convince her father that he really needed to stay in the car...in their driveway...at their home.

He rolled his eyes some and gave her a look. It would've been a standard 'Really?' look, though her childish hiccup brought a small smile to his face. Always his baby. "Yeah, you're 18… Best argument you can get is bouncing up and down unhappily? Don't start kicking or you'll punt the motor out. What it -does- mean is that there is a boy interested in my daughter, and I need to look out for her and make sure this kid is all you hope he will be. And more importantly, all I hope he will be. So unless you can make a more rational argument than a whine, little miss, I don't see a reason for me -not- to eat some of -his- food."

"It's embarrassing and it underrides my potential to make decisions for myself without help or interference from my caregiver. If I can't make and formulate decisions on my own how will I ever be confident without you?" she asked, rattling off an amalgamation of something she was sure she heard during an assembly once and one of those cheesy after-school movie special things that came on at 1 am on Saturday's.

"Who says you need to be confident without me?" He said with a playful smile looking back to her. "And besides… just because you use bigger words doesn't mean it's a better argument. I just need to know this guy if he plans on being anything more than a friend with my baby A-minor. That's all." He looked back to her before taking a turn. "…And embarrassing things build character. So you're welcome."

Axelle knew when she'd been beat so she did the only thing she could do. She sighed, grumbled, rolled her eyes, crossed her arms and sank down into her seat.

Chris looked over to her and took in a deep breath before looking ahead. How come whenever he won, and it was for his daughters own good, he felt like he was the bad guy? How'd she do that? He'd drive in silence for a little longer before clearing his throat.

"So what makes you think you're… romantically interested?" He opened up his phone and flipped to one of the slide shows. "Is it that warm feeling down..below?"

"Yeah kinda..." she answered before appearing to think about it for a moment. "He tries really hard to make me feel comfortable and reassures me a lot that I’m careful and stuff. He does this....touch telepathy thing, so we can't actually touch each other otherwise he gets all my emotions and thoughts and stuff and that's kind of embarrassing..." she admitted.

A guy who is reassuring and comforting and, most importantly, can't touch his daughter? Now this -did- sound like a boy he could get behind. "… Well you deserve that, you know. Someone who considers your feelings and will help with stuff." He drummed his fingers against the steering wheel before closing out the slide show labeled 'Talk1'.

Axelle, unknowingly saved from having to deal with her father’s obsession that she be safe where sex was involved merely nodded. She certainly wasn't going to admit to her FATHER of all people that the idea of having sex with someone sounded really fun now that she was older and damnit, everyone at school seemed to be doing it. "Hm, yeah that is nice." she said instead as her mind wandered down the ("Huh....actually I wonder what Koty would look like naked?") path.

"…Alright. Well… How about this. I want to talk to this boy, and I want to have a nice discussion with him… Just us. And I want him to come over and have a meal with the three of us together." He didn't want to add on the last bit, the part that might make it worthwhile, but he knew she'd just whine and kick if he didn't offer it. "…But if you will agree to that, and -stay- in the public park area… I'll let you do this by yourself. Won't even get out of the car."

Axelle considered this turn of events. It was a good deal and really, bringing Koty over for Dinner wouldn't be bad...in fact it could be really good. Maybe...it could also be very, very bad...But staying in the park would be fine, she really had no intentions of doing anything racy or indecent while in public so that would be an easy promise to keep...plus he'd stay in the car and really, isn't that what she wanted all along? "Okay, it's a deal." she said.

"Alright… So one date with you means one date with me, and one date with us as long as you be a good girl." He took the steering wheel with the left hand so he could offer his right out to her, so they could shake on it. "It's a deal… You'll text me when you're ready to be picked up?"

“DEAL!" she said with a smile as she put her hand into her father's and shook it. She held onto it a little longer, staring at the fact that while his hand was much, much bigger than hers, with a squeeze she could shatter it. She quickly dropped his hand and clutched her own in her lap again.

He looked over to his daughter and considered playfully ruffling her hair. She'd probably be so mad at him, but it might be worth it. He instead just reached over and gave her shoulder a small squeeze. "Alright… You know I love you, and nobody is looking out for you better than me and grandpa. Not even yourself, so… Just gotta be careful." He turned onto the road that ran beside of the park. "While your skin might be think, we all know your heart isn't bulletproof baby."

Axelle gave her father a small smile, to show that despite their earlier disagreements she knew that he was only looking out for her and that someday she'd come to that conclusion faster than she'd come to it today. "I know daddy, I love you too....could you maybe just park here and let me walk?"

"What, and miss seeing this boy to make sure that you aren't running off with some biker? Yeah…No, Just be glad I'm not parking on the cloth." The switch was pretty sudden, but it came with a smile as he continued down the road. "You aren't embarrassed of me and this rust bucket are you?"

The image of her father doing just that made Axelle finally laugh. "No, I'm not, this is a good truck and anyone who says otherwise can suck it," she declared. Considering that she'd learned to drive in this truck it had sentimental value.

"Language." He said curtly as they continued along the road. His lips turned up into a smile and he shrugged. "But it's true, they can suck it." He gave her a small nudge on her arm, an affectionate gesture. "Alright, where are you meeting him?"