March Writing Challenge: 100 Stories. 1 Month.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

81. Dramatic.

Life around the Serrano-Blaise household had been relatively mundane for months now. It had reached a standard, or rather, as standard as a family with a very young son and a daughter on the way could be. Lincoln provided strategic ups and downs for any routine, forcing a more flexible approach to every day life. But every day made that a little easier, every new experience constructing a clearer path for them to follow. Some days he was fussy. He didn't want to be held, but then he did. But he only wanted one of them. Then the other. He needed to nap, but he wouldn't. Not on his own. Not without company. It was exhausting, until it wasn't. Thankfully, he wasn't always fussy.

Today, their young son had an easy, settled day, and it gave Lucy time to find something to do. Her usual choice was some kind of mindless video game; Link could curl into her form until he slept. Today, video games weren't holding the heavily pregnant ink manipulator's attention as well as they usually could - a fact which was completely frustrating within itself - and so she turned to something new.

She found a book.

Hours later when Penny arrived home from work, she still had that book. Amongst taking care of their son, she found enough time to read a little more. And to want to continue on still. Penny admittedly doubted she'd make it all that far through the reading material, but by the time Lincoln was down for the night and they were in bed, she still had it. Sitting up, she was resting the book against her legs, fingers idly running along the edge of the hard cover. As much as she wanted to curl the pages simply to keep herself moving, she didn't.

She herself had time to pick up the book she hadn't touched for weeks. Her attention was as drawn to her own pages as it could be, but sure enough, the silence was inevitably to be broken.

"Did you know that at twenty-eight weeks, babies develop their eyes?" Lucy asked, refusing to look at the psychometrist beside her.

It was probably a good thing too; Penny couldn't shake the look of evident disbelief. She was still reading. The Brit half thought she'd been pretending for the last half an hour just to prove a point, "Yes, Lucy." She finally replied, intent on drawing her eyes away now that she'd looked, but doing so felt impossible.

"Twenty-eight weeks." Lucy stressed, as if her point hadn't been made by the reminder.

"Yes, it is."

"Our baby's growing eyes, love." Lucy did her best to keep her tone level, but it wasn't easy. Since she started carrying their future daughter, it'd been an incredibly strain, "There're eyes in here." A pat to her raised stomach for some kind of proof; "She can like, see."

Reaching over, Penny ran her fingers across the Australian's nearest arm, "I know, dear."

Silence. Lucy wore pride for her discovery, and that faded over time. She eased her arm from Penny's light hold, just enough to flick to the next page before she beckoned for the contact again. She reached out to her, her hand drumming against her thigh momentarily. Needy was an understatement when it came to twenty-eight weeks into a Serrano pregnancy.

But then she reached for the book and turned the page back.

Because it dawned on her. Realisation.

"...Unless she can't."

"Lucy," Immediate concern for where her thoughts were taking her, but Penny withdrew it from her voice to the best of her ability.

"What if she can't?" Lucy continued on, the pressure in her voice rising with each passing moment; "Like, when we have her, we turn around and she can't even see. And we'll look back on this day and ask ourself what Lucy did to make it so our bae can't see."

Stunned silence, this time. And Penny squeezed her arm for a shot of reassurance. "That's..." She started, but she quickly faltered. She thought even suggesting her wife was acting out was a bad idea; "Lucy, please. Be reasonable."

There, the ink manipulator laughed, very briefly on a breath in order to keep the mood light. Beautiful. Glorious.

"Right, right. That's dumb. I'm being dumb."

Penny kept her mouth shut. How stupid it would be to point out that that was a little bit true.

"What about toes."

"Toes?"

"And fingers."

Penny exhaled the quietest sigh she could give, "Fingers... And toes."

"What if she's missing like, thumbs." Lucy argued. They were at the point of arguing now, "What the-" fuck "-do you do without thumbs?"

The psychometrist didn't speak. She didn't offer anything but evident reassurance from her eyes. Lucy stared with a slackened jaw and furrowed eyebrows; really, she needed an answer. Something pertinent. Penny offered another squeeze to her arm, the slightest hint of a smile catching the corner of her mouth. The moment Lucy looked to see it, she felt another negative hit to her chest.

And then the psychometrist was moving away.

"Penny." Lucy stressed. As far as assistance went, this was not helping.

But she didn't go far. All the Brit did was ease herself away, reaching to her bedside table before she moved back again. This time, she edged herself closer, leaving absolutely no space between them. Between her fingertips, she placed a small picture between the pages. Twenty-eight weeks.

"Here's the ultrasound from last week." Penny said lightly. There was nothing sharp about her tone. Nothing abrasive. Reassurance lined every syllable that passed her lips. "Look." She continued on, little pressure as her index finger lined the little curves of an unsteady, perfect image; "Ten fingers. Ten toes."

And absolutely, completely perfect.

"So stop." Penny continued, a sensible ease to her tone as her fingers curled around Lucy's hand. Enough pressure to ease her fingers from the cover of the book, "Please?"

Finally, Lucy took a breath. The strain in her face eased, as if slow deliberation settled her nerves as her dark eyes remained transfixed on the image between the pages. The new found image placed there. She took it back with her free hand, and she exhaled a slow breath as she forced the book closed.

[Gryphon Matsuoka]

#16 - Run
Word Count: 3798

Four in the morning. Gryphon was staring at the ceiling with a look that displayed nothing more than the curiosity that came with imagining possibilities; all the fathomable possibilities that could ever come to light. He stared at the ceiling as if it were a crystal ball, there to project visions and images of his future, to guide him down whatever path was rising up beneath his unknowing feet. Of course, however, it was only a ceiling, blank with just a single light colour, barely illuminated by the early morning moonlight that peeked through the curtains and lay down on top of the avian man and his boyfriend, who was soundly asleep next to him, snoring softly, tucked into his shoulder. Gryph regarded Kodi for a moment, smiling softly and pecking his forehead before returning to his solitary thoughts and thinkings.

Some things he wanted to avoid considering whatsoever - the possibility of war, for example. The prospect that countries might turn on each other, man on man, weapon on weapon, was perfectly terrifying for the pacifist. Even the thought of nuclear weaponry had him gently shaking in fear. He didn't like the possibility of tyranny. War was a terrifying prospect that he wanted to pull from his mind and smother under the bedsheets. But it was still there. It was always there. The best defense technique he could fathom was distraction, which he did through considering other futures.

One came to his mind often. What if... he ran away? Who would notice? Who would forget him? Who would worry or go hunting for him? Heh... that question he knew at least one answer to, and it was lying right next to him; some days, however, he just wanted to disappear into the world. There just felt like there was too much going on sometimes, and he didn't want to be anywhere near it. Maybe for a day, a week, a month.... a season. A year. He didn't know. But his instincts often urged him to take off. To get away from Nick. Away from university, and study. Away from his responsibilities - putting it that way made it feel like it would be an immature decision to make, and maybe it would be, but who didn't want to escape? Surely everyone, at some point or another, just wanted to up sticks and set off. Screw obligation, screw certainty, screw normality - why not step into the world of the unknown? Each passing day a new mystery to be solved, a new mission to succeed. The idea was thrilling and tantalizing. Apparently too much so.

The time read to be about quarter to five, just a little before. The world still hadn't woken up yet, not entirely, and Gryphon was planning his escape.

His main concern was Kodi. He knew the boy was fragile, as much as he attempted to hide it around others. Gryph wanted to make sure that he could assure the younger boy of many things, and decided that it would be best to write a letter and leave it nearby. Hopefully he would understand. Gryphon wasn't sure if he would - but he knew he would return. He just didn't know when. His next concern fell to money problems. He would have to leave enough to ensure Tak could pay the rent and the bills. He wondered how she would react, and found that he wasn't certain. Well... he'd know in due time. His decision on this front was to leave her a cheque. He'd decide the amount later.

The Sun was beginning to peek more and more when Gryphon realised he needed to act faster than he had first realised if he wanted to do this now. Maybe it was a selfish, childish decision, but Gryph wanted to run. Getting away seemed to just... be a good idea. Sometimes it was best to run, to hide, right? He got to work, moving gently and quietly, although he doubted that Kodi would stir, considering how heavily he slept most nights. He grabbed a large rucksack and began filling it with necessities - clothing, toiletries, personal items, anything he felt might be necessary to stay living and breathing and happy while he was gone. He decided writing out a letter might take too long, and changed his mind on that front - he found Kodi's phone and put it on silent, so that he could call and leave his letter as a voicemail message. As he continued his preparations, as time ticked on, Gryph became more nervous, yet more excited, too. The unknown used to frighten him, but now it mostly intrigued, leaving little room for the old fear that now only occasionally lingered.

He had finished packing a decent amount of food and water by the time it was six o'clock. He slowly and carefully wrote out the cheque for Tak, making sure it would be out of Fang's reach in case the bunny was up and about before she was. He took a deep steadying breath, studying the details of his current home as he grounded himself. He was doing this.

He was actually doing this.

Gryphon carefully placed his hand on the doorknob of the front door, looking back with a serene expression as he gently clicked the exit open, readjusting the bag on his back before stepping outside of the premises, taking his keys with him. He shuffled down the stairs silently and walked out the door of the apartment block, swiftly moving towards the nearest bus stop as he pulled out his phone to leave that important message.

---------------

"Hey... it's Gryph. I'm guessing you've noticed my severe lack of being in the apartment and I just want to make you certain - I'm safe. I'm perfectly fine. I just... you know how stressed I can get, Kodi, and I just need to get away for a while. Not just from you, but from everyone. I'd take you with me if you didn't need to keep going to school. Look, I don't want you to worry or try to find me. I'll come back at some point. Maybe tomorrow, maybe in a week... maybe a little longer. I'm not sure. When I'm ready, I'll be back. Feel free to be upset with me, I'll understand."

"Oh, and one other thing I want to make clear. This isn't to do with you. I still love you, okay? I love you with all my heart. I just need recuperation time, and I'll be back before you know it, sweetie. I won't be communicating whilst I'm away so this will be my last message for a while. You can leave me voicemails or texts or whatever and I'll listen to them and I'll read them, but I won't reply. So don't expect be to."

"Be safe. Work hard. I love you, babe."

---------------

Gryphon felt his phone buzz multiple times as the bus moved along. He'd been sat here for about an hour, just watching the world go by. He wasn't even really sure where he was by now, but he guessed that was fine. His phone was buzzing again and he looked at it, seeing a phone call from Kodi. Five missed calls. He sighed, but did nothing more than turn it off and zip it into his bag. The point of this was to get distracted; if he began talking to Kodi now, he'd turn back. He knew he would, he would start worrying too much about his lover and feel terrible about disappearing out of the blue (which was a dick move in itself) and he would go back, forgetting every reason that he had left for in the first place to go back and take care of the dentokinetic. But he would be alright. He was tough when he wanted to be. Kodi was a fighter.

Gryphon glanced outside and found the surroundings to be pretty beautiful. He was interested, and pressed the stop button to get off at the next possible opportunity. Now he could do some exploring.

He knew packing electrical goods may have been a bad idea, but he needed his phone for emergencies, his netbook for research and his camera for capturing beautiful things. He didn't leave Pilot Ridge all that much, so he suspected the change in scenery would give him a burst of inspiration. He felt that he was correct in this hunch, as he stepped out into the early morning sun, shading his face and readjusting his bag as the rev of the bus engine rattled into the distance, leaving him stranded in the middle of nowhere.

Perfect.

A content sigh left his lungs as he began walking down the edge of the road slowly, carefully. There was some foliage to one side of him which he would probably duck into a little later on, when he was more away. His camera hung around his neck on its well worn, but still reliable strap, rhythmically bouncing on his chest with every step he took, one paced foot in front of the other. He vaguely wondered how far away the nearest city or town was, whether he was going to run into anything of interest on the way there. There wasn't anything obvious up ahead that indicated any significant place or location and Gryph had purposefully avoided looking at road signs on the way here - wherever 'here' actually was - and considering he had boarded the first bus that had arrived at the stop and gone from there, he had positively no idea where he was. It was outstandingly strange how at ease he felt, despite this. It wasn't like Gryphon was generally one to be a stickler for planning or organisation though.

His footsteps were tracing in the wake of the bus tracks, the road only carrying a car or a truck every couple minutes at first, but the frequency began to pick up as the minutes rolled on. Gryph had been concerned, earlier, at the idea of possibly becoming bored and inevitably retracing his steps before the first day was over just so he could enjoy himself again, but his thoughts were entertaining enough on their own. He was one of those people who actually didn't always have their eyes on their phone, playing games or browsing the internet. He did his fair share of these things, of course, but he could survive without music plugged in his ears or a screen in front of his face, when he felt like it. The only screen this frequented his opticals now was his camera screen, after taking a snap or two. The road ahead gave a gorgeous aspect of continuation, how it stretched and swerved and trailed on, almost as if the world was creating the road as Gryphon walked it. The thought brought a smile to his lips as the viewfinder met his eye again, finger snapping another shot.

After an hour or so of gentle strolling, Gryph looked into the greenery nearby, carefully slipping down into the forestry to explore. He was wearing his usual comfortable clothing, except for a pair of hardy walking boots, a lot more solid than the rest of his baggy, shaggy image. He resembled somewhat of a lightly dressed homeless man with good hygiene, or a hiker with bad clothing decisions. He didn't care how he seemed right now, though - that was the point of this. Just him and the world, and nothing of specific importance.

The first person he ran into was a dog walker by the name of Katrina, with a little scruffy thing by the name of Buggy. Apparently, it was a name her child had chosen - supposedly when the then two-year-old was attempting to say 'Doggy' with a blocked nose. It had sounded adorable at the time and so the name 'Buggy' stuck. Gryphon thought it was adorable, personally. The brunette woman occasionally threw a ball for the scrappy beastie as they walked. "What do you do for a living?" He asked. Katrina, or Katty, replied to this first with a small laugh before speaking, "I'm in and out of jobs these days," She had said, smiling brightly despite this, "At the moment I'm unemployed. It's for the best, since Jodie's ill." Jodie was her six-year-old, the one who had 'named' Buggy. She also had a ten-year-old, David. Katty didn't seem to mind Gryphon's digging, so he dug a little more. He asked about her religious beliefs, her favourite music, anything of interest.

During the whole conversation, an idea came to mind. He explained it to her as if it was something well planned, but he was just speaking off of the top of his head. He had advertised it as a 'diversity project', which is what he had now decided he was doing. Talking to different people, learning about their lives. He said he wanted to know two everyday things about her life, and then one unusual or interesting fact, something one might realise at face value. She considered her thoughts on this as he took her picture, preserving that golden smile and the ball of fluff in a frame.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katrina
* Mother of two, David and Jodie
* Born and raised in Vermont
* Collects pin badges - owns over one hundred, at least

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Katrina lead Gryphon to the town where she lived, only a twenty minute walk away from where they had met, and they parted ways happily once he had found a hotel, buying a room for the night. Once he was inside the well made little room, he placed his bag down and got out all of his technical equipment, charging this and importing that. The whole time however, his mind wouldn't retract from thinking about Kodi, and he left his technology to process as he turned his phone back on.

Seven missed calls, now. Multiple unread text messages, and not just from Kodi. A couple from Phen. One from Tak. The majority were from Kodi though. He sighed as he scrolled through them, each conveying worry or fear, anger or confusion. Gryphon couldn't help feeling terrible about it. He hesitated a little at first, knowing he was going back on what he said about no communication, but Kodi deserved to actually speak to him. Gryph was being unfair. He climbed further back onto the made bed, tapping on Kodi's contact and calling him, fiddling with the details in the sheets as he waited. It wasn't long before the phone picked up, "Gryph?"

Kodi's voice was shaky, with a hint of uncertainty. Gryphon bit his lip, "Hi." A brief pause filled the air for the moment, before Gryph heard something similar to the thud of someone hitting a pillow on the other side of the phone, "Gryph, you scared the shit out of me! What- why the fuck d'you take off like that?!" He was angry. That was understandable. Gryphon went to speak, but there was more, "I've been worryin' 'bout you all day, I thought... I don't fuckin' know, just... God damn!" Gryph grimaced. Well... yeah, what he did was uncalled for. He was going to explain, but he heard Kodi... crying. He could make excuses when he'd done that. "Kodi, hey..." He said quietly, trying to calm him down, "I'm really sorry I freaked you out, sweetie." Sincerity was flowing from his voice. He knew he'd fucked up, what he did was unfair, really unfair. "I'm okay, sweetheart. I told you that. I just wanted to escape for a while..." He sighed, still hearing Kodi's tears and his sniffling, "I-"

"Come back." The younger boy's voice crackled over the shaky connection, "P-please, Gryphy... I'm l-lonely." That really tugged at his heartstrings, but... he wasn't ready to go back yet. And he couldn't get Kodi to come up here, or down here, whichever way it was; he had school. Gryph took a steady breath, "I... I can't. Not yet, baby." It was killing him to hear the crying, but he couldn't help this. If he was with Kodi, he would be holding him tight, but as the case was, he wasn't.

"P-please, Gryphy."

"....I'm sorry." Gryphon sighed again, "I'll.... I'll keep in touch with you, okay, baby? Then you won't need to worry, you know I'll be fine." He looked at the ceiling, sliding down on his sheets, "I'll be back soon, I promise. If... if you get any nightmares or anything, you can still call me." He hummed to himself, clucking his tongue as he heard Kodi calm down a little, "....I m-miss you." Gryphon gave a sad smile to this, "I miss you too, sweetie." He glanced at the clock, "Go to bed, it's late. Call me when you wake up, okay?" They wound down their goodbyes and I-love-you's and eventually, Gryph put down the phone.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Gemaal
* Computer technician
* Favourite music is movie scores - "John Williams is a genius"
* His leg was amputated after being crushed by a vending machine

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Travis
* Been volunteering for the homeless for years now
* Incredibly good baker (he gave me a cupcake - I think I died and went to heaven it was so good )
* Has the meta ability to summon sponges and nothing else

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Eunice
* Studies Pure Mathematics at college
* Owns two cats, Jade and Sophie
* Freakishly flexible - I'm jealous

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

After a couple days and a few more profiles, Gryph was starting to feel the dullness that came with being distanced from your friends. He was definitely enjoying himself, and this was something he would do again, definitely, but... it was time. Time to come back home. He decided this lying on a bed in the early morning, glancing out the window occasionally, just the same as how he had decided to take this journey in the first place. He had been hoping to get this whole project rounded up to at least five people, but not everyone was as friendly as Katrina, or as patient as Gemaal (he guessed one had to be, when you lacked mobility - he could definitely understand that). He was struggling to scrounge up a fifth, and he didn't want it to be someone reluctant and annoyed because they were being forced to do something they weren't interested in or didn't have time for. It sucked, but what could he do?

When Kodi called in the morning, as he had all the other days, Gryph gave no sign that he would be returning that day. He knew the dentokinetic had been staying over at Gryph's place, despite the fact that Gryphon himself wasn't there, because it was apparently more comfortable and it felt more at home - and Kodi had to look after Fang. He wouldn't let his beloved bunny starve or dehydrate to death, and he couldn't leave the fluffy thing in Tak's hands, because he was his! And Gryph's. But his! He didn't want her messing about with his baby.

Gryphon hoped to time it so he would return whilst Kodi was still at school. It took multiple hours of walking and bus riding, but time passed more fleetingly as he got closer and closer. As he traveled, he tried to decipher who would be his fifth. One option would be himself. That seemed plausible. Gryph had a few weird quirks about him after all. Yeah. That could work. Or maybe Tak. Takchawee... she was fairly interesting. Of course, his other option was Kodi, but he wasn't sure how happy the dentokinetic would be having his face plastered on a blog post, along with information about himself... Gryph wasn't sure. He would make up his mind once he got back.

When he returned, at around two in the afternoon, the door was unlocked. He supposed it was Tak, she could easily already be home. Bag still on his back, he dropped off his unused keys on the counter, slipped off his heavy shoes and trundled around the apartment to his room, finding the door slightly cracked when he got there. His expression was bemused as he pushed it open, finding his eyes meeting with those of a certain dentokinetic, who had glasses on his nose and a book in hand. Like a deer in the headlights, the boy seemed a little frozen, and Gryphon smirked, chuckling a little, "I can come back later, if you want." He teased, before Kodi started clambering over to him, nerdy accessories left behind on the bed. The welcome wasn't exactly warm though, and Gryphon let his boyfriend pound on his chest a bit, clearly frustrated, "You asshole, you fuckin' asshole, you deserted me an' then you just...!" The hits became weaker, and Gryph slid off his bag, resting it on the door frame, able to predict by now what was about to happen. Kodi curled up a little into Gryphon's chest, hiding his face as he began to sob horribly, "You fuckin'... m-moron!" He whined, as Gryph's arms wrapped securely around him, rocking the crying boy gently and keeping him close. He couldn't help smiling to himself at the 'insult', but remained tucked around his boyfriend, unable to joke and tease for the time being, just muttering quiet little words of apology and affection as he stroked Kodi's hair and calmed the emotional storm he was having.

-------------------

Kodi found himself, numerous hours later, stood outside as the sunset, all tidied up again with a camera in his face. Gryph had explained what he'd been doing when he was gone and Kodi had agreed to be his fifth (thanks to a little persuasion - but after their meeting earlier, Gryphon didn't want it to be anyone else). "Do I look good?" He asked, as his boyfriend snapped away.

Gryph pulled away from the viewfinder to look through the pictures he already had, but none of them particularly clicked yet. He glanced at Kodi - he needed to catch the gummy smile the dentokinetic so often hid. Gryphon tilted his head, "Yeah, you look good."

"You don't sound convinced."

Gryph was a little caught there. So he could tell. The winged man hesitated for a moment, "Well... it might help if you smiled more...?" He suggested lightly. Kodi forced a smile and Gryphon rolled his eyes, lifting his camera as he did, "Good, now try not to look like you just shit your pants." Kodi gave a reflexive laugh and Gryph smiled as he snapped that gorgeous smile.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

Kodi
* Almost too gay to function
* Wears leather religiously
* Probably one of the most intelligent people I know and an absolute book nerd
+ Bonus point! Owns a pet bunny rabbit.

~~~~~~~~~~~~~

[Eli Morrison]

76. Harmony

"That's never going to stop being weird." Devon said as Midori plucked the little Reserved sign off of a bar table and hopped onto one of the two bar stools. It wasn't the best seat in the house, but the fact that it was always reserved for them--for her--was still new to him.

The venue was small, and there weren't many bar tables to begin with. If tonight was anything like the last few times they'd come in, there would be standing-room-only by the time the headliner got onstage.

Mii sipped her drink, which was also a freebie from a bartender who knew her so well by now. "Oh shush. Eli just likes treating us. I listened to enough of his practicing in high school, he owes me by now."

"Yeah, of course."

It was a nice date, though, just as it had been the last few times Eli had played this venue. The crowd wasn't too rambunctious and the opening act was nice enough. There were a couple of high-pitched calls from the standing area when the former librarian walked onstage, but that was also typical. Mii might be his biggest fan, but there was a not-inconsiderable fanbase of Hammel students there too. (Both the art teacher and recruiter kept half an eye on them, but of course Kali knew not to serve them and the front door was very strict about stamping the hands of the underage patrons.)

Now, Devon didn't mind that Mii's best friend was a guy. (Or that they lived together. Or that her son clearly thought more highly of Eli than he did of his own father.) They'd been friends since they were little, new recruits at Hammel, and she spoke about Eli like he was her brother. But there was something about the way that he looked at her... He watched as the musician scanned the crowd and quickly zeroed in on them at their usual table. Eli's face, usually so serious lit up. Mii waved to him, and he waved back.

Eli picked up his guitar and checked the tuning, then spoke into the microphone. "I'm going to start with something new. It's not quite polished yet, but I want to see what you think."

The song was sweet, and to be honest, a little sappy. Mii nodded along and watched her best friend croon about soft brown eyes and smiled. Not her favorite of his songs, but it was nice.

As the song ended and the set continued, Devon couldn't help himself. He leaned over and murmured to his girlfriend, "Mii, I'm pretty sure that last one was about you."

That set Midori off, giggling. "Oh shush. That's ridiculous."

At the end of his set, Eli dedicated his performance to his best friend.

[Gryphon Matsuoka]

#4 - Cheat
Word Count: 1117

It was about midnight and Kodi’s footsteps were starting to trail back into the living space of Gryphon’s apartment, where cards were splayed out on the floor, in the midst of a game. There were empty bowls with the residue of ice cream and the room was lit delicately with fairy lights hung about in the most cliche manner possible. It was a setting that would make anyone feel a bit giddy and silly. Gryph thought it was adorable. And he thought Kodi was a cheater.

The dentokinetic was returning with hot chocolates when he saw Gryphon looking at his cards. His cards! Kodi gasped a little, putting the mugs down, “Gryph!”

“You’re cheating!” Gryphon accused, shaking his head a little. Kodi blushed slightly, “Well, I-”

“No one can have five aces, you idiot.” The avian boy whacked Kodi over the head with his cards and threw them in his direction. Usually, this would have been seen as a little joking, banter between boyfriends, but Gryph had a slightly serious tone in his voice, too serious for such a silly situation. And the hit was… a bit too hard. Kodi frowned, “Gryph…?”

“I’m going to bed.”

Kodi was… extremely confused, as he watched the avian man get up and slump away to their bedroom. Did he do something? Was Gryph… that serious about a simple game of cards…? It didn’t make any sense, and the clearest, strongest emotion it induced in the younger boy was worry. Gryphon was usually so calm, so… carefree- well, maybe not carefree, but collected, at least. Relaxed. Why would he have a suddenly outburst about something so simple and petty? Kodi kept musing over this, refraining from chasing after him for now, keeping his distance by tidying up the game and the food slowly.

Gryph went into his room and clambered on his bed, rolling to face the wall as he pulled up his phone, sighing out his stress, but definitely not relieving the pressuring bubble that continued to inflate in his chest. His phone had been buzzing all evening, and he didn’t want to check it - he knew who the messages were from. And you could blacklist a person but that didn’t erase them from your life. He couldn’t skip about this situation - and yet, he didn’t understand, if that was the case, why he hadn’t already spoken to Kodi about it.

Oh, right. Because he felt tremendously guilty about it.

He opened his inbox and scrolled through, clicking every message and checking it.

’Gryphon, come on, you’re being unfair.’

‘Gryph, look at your phone.’

‘It’s better that you just tell him and be done with it.’

‘You can’t change the past.’

‘Just do it. If you take too long, I won’t be here for you, and he’ll find out eventually anyway.’

Gryph felt… so guilty. Even though this wasn’t his fault - something he didn’t take into account or realise whatsoever. He just knew that he’d done things with someone else without Kodi’s knowledge… intimate things. And that was wrong. The fact that it was when he was so inebriated that he couldn’t remember where he lived skipped his mind. The fact that he was taken advantage of via blackmail was also skimmed over. The fact that it was Nick of all people at the source of this, on top of everything else, didn’t seem to be of any extra importance to Gryphon. Something had gone wrong in his mind’s workings and now all he believed was that it was his fault, and his alone. He was struggling to act normal because this wasn’t a normal situation and he didn’t know how to handle it.

He vaguely heard the door creak open further and felt the bed dip as Kodi supposedly moved closer.

The dentokinetic only had to ask the simple question of “Are you okay?” for Gryphon to break down, throwing his phone away and onto the ground before hiding his face in his hands. Kodi was more than shocked, as his boyfriend muttered apology after apology. “...Gryph?”

The winged man pointed vaguely in the direction of his phone. He couldn’t say it himself. Kodi wavered before scooping it up and unlocking the device. The screen was cracked from the impact, but otherwise, it was still functional, and still on the conversation Gryphon had just been looking at. It was mostly one sided, but very suspicious. It was obvious what the messages were about - meetups, when Kodi was busy elsewhere. Talking about secrecy and the possibility of getting Kodi ‘out of the way’. There were hardly any messages on Gryph’s part, but still… Kodi was shocked. His heart pounded in his chest, twisting at the sound of his lover crying and stabbing from the unexpected betrayal. This wasn’t right. It couldn’t be…

“...w-why?” He was choking up. Gryphon could barely speak, he just curled up more and pulled the sheets over his body, wanting to disappear elsewhere. Kodi felt his tears well fast and… he just needed to know, “...who i-is it?” There was no name listed or mentioned anywhere. Just a number that Gryph received messages from and rarely replied to. Gryph sniffed and hiccuped, mumbling too quietly to be heard. “Who?” Kodi pressed, his voice burning with anger and betrayal.

Gryphon swallowed, his face still hidden from view, and spoke just loud enough to be heard, “H-He… Nick, he-”

“Nick?” Kodi interrupted abruptly. Gryph flinched and whimpered out a noise of confirmation, nodding shakily.

Now it made sense.

Kodi was still crying, he… he couldn’t help that. But after a final glance at the phone, he dropped it on the ground and climbed onto the bed, wrapping himself tightly around his partner, starting to try and comfort him. He was hurt, but… it was more anger at Nick now than anything negative towards Gryph. If it was Nick… that was probably the loudest alarm bell that this was some form of manipulation over anything else. And Gryphon was obviously distraught by it.

“Wh-what…” Gryph muttered, sniffing and coughing loudly, “...I c-cheated on you…?”

“No, Gryphy,” Kodi replied, nuzzling the hair on the back of his lover’s head, “You were c-cheated.” His hold around the older man became a little tighter, a little more possessive, “You w-wouldn’t do this.”

The relief was overwhelming, and brought on another wave of tears. Gryphon rolled over and tucked his head into the crook of Kodi’s neck, “I l-love you.” He stuttered out, arms looped around his shoulders. The dentokinetic didn’t loosen his own hold - if anything, he held his lover closer, “I love you too, Gryphy.” But Nick was gonna get it.

[Percie Hobbes]

52.Tower
Words: 3, 075 (holy crap this is longer that I thought it would be)
Thanks to Jon for letting me use Papa!

“Once upon a time, in the magical kingdom of Zelandra there lived a king who was in need of a bride. At first he’d attempted to woo the noble women that decorated his court like jewels but found them and their families to be too greedy for his liking. This king however, was not necessarily a kind individual. He was quite sadistic and enjoyed causing discomfort in others. Deciding that the best way to discomfort the nobility was to snub them he decreed that he would take a common wife…if one of them could pass his rigorous standards. From the year that decree was signed, girls from the ages of eighteen to twenty-five were rounded together and brought to a special “testing” ground where they…eventually would all fail.

Normally, this would only be the cause of a few bruised ego’s but the king…in his sadistic wisdom decided that being queen was not incentive enough for the peasant girls he habitually gathered. In addition to the promise of being the Queen of all Zelandra the girls were told that one precious member of their family had been taken and that if they failed in their quest that person’s life was forfeit. Tragically, each year for 8 years saw the return of broken hearted and distraught young women to homes devoid of mothers, fathers, siblings, and sometimes dear, dear friends. The nobles quickly gave up the idea that they could provide a queen for the country and frankly, given that their precious daughters and families would be subject to the same peasant laws if they volunteered it was better to simply sit back and wait for a bride to be found.

In time, the common families desperately tried to skirt the conscription and many with girls of the right age had fled to the woods while those who were very young were disguised as boys until the danger had passed. Unfortunately the king’s guards were not stupid and many girls of age were discovered using this deception. Though there was no punishment meted out by the king, the guards seemed to take great satisfaction in humiliating the young woman in question and punishing her family by making them hand over provisions or money for the “trouble” of rooting out their daughter. It was a hopeless situation for everyone.

Drawing close in its ninth year the king was beginning to grow impatient with his dwindling choices and was in a fouler mood than usual. He refused to make the tasks any easier and locked away anyone who questioned him. Along with rumors of his terrifyingly strong powers most people tended to just pray that this would be the year the prince would marry.

In the small town of Esterapple, preparations were being made for when the king’s guards came to the town. The year before they had successfully managed to hide all their girls of marrying age but knew that they wouldn’t be lucky again.

“Okay Sweetie, you know what to do right?” the blacksmith, Christopher Flint, asked his daughter as she finished tying a sash around her waist.

“Yes, finish the tests, challenge the king,” she repeated dutifully as she reached up to rake back her brilliantly red hair…the result of a potion mishap when she was a youngster. “Don’t worry Papa, I’ll rescue you,” she grinned.

“I know Honey,” he grinned. “But if I see him first I might challenge him myself, always did fancy myself wearing a crown and all,” he grinned as he reached over and ruffled his daughters hair.

“You’d make a good king,” she agreed as the two headed outside. Just after the king’s men had left their village, an old sage had appeared on the edge of town. In exchange for food and lodging the sage traded his wisdom to those who would hear it. He stayed for several months and became known as “Old Man Neville”. He, like many, many others in Zelandra had mystical powers bestowed upon him at birth, and used them to spread good in this troubled time. Before he left for another leg of his endless journey, he imparted one last piece of wisdom to the children at his feet and the adults listening nearby…including the curious blacksmith’s daughter.

“Do you know how the king’s family came to power?” Old Man Neville questioned the little ones.

“They warred for it?” a little girl guessed.

“They won a card game!” a teen boy snickered.

“They stole it!” another little boy gasped, horrified with his own reasoning.

“Almost,” the old man chuckled. “Zelandra is a magical place…to rule over it means to sit on a magical throne. The throne will only accept someone who’s won it properly…in a duel!” he explained.

“A duel? Like a magic duel?” an older woman with a baby in her arms wondered.

“Precisely. Anyone in Zelandra can be king or queen…if you face the king and challenge him to a duel, he is bound by the magic of Zelandra to participate.”

“But why hasn’t anyone challenged him?”

“Many reasons, the king’s family is rumored to have the power to steal the abilities of others so many fear to challenge him and I think many have forgotten the ancient rite, something to keep in mind though…”

There was a collective ‘ahh’ of understanding and wonder before the crowd dispersed, only the redhead remained. “Ah…excuse me,” she began, cautiously approaching the sage and crouching near his feet. “What ability does the king have that can steal other’s?”

“I’m not sure my child…but I am certain that a show of strength can best him,” He had smiled when the redhead had flinched but she said nothing, however the nod and wink she had given him as she rose to leave was the only indication that she understood his words.”

Since that day the blacksmith’s daughter had been constructing a plan. With her father’s life on the line it was her only hope to get him back. She had a trump up her sleeve, one that she was certain she and her father and kept hidden for years. It was the reason why she had volunteered to go with the guards this year when the others went to safety. She could only pray that her boldness paid off in the end.

She stood now, straight and….short…, as the guards came trotting into the city followed by a covered wagon already filled with this year’s prospects and another, barred carriage for their collateral.

The lead guard called for a halt and dismounted, striding up to the blacksmith and his daughter, looking rather infuriated. “Last year there were none, but this year you have one?”

“Well, what can I say? We’re not very good at keeping our girls around,” Christopher shrugged, his tone anything but contrite.

“Bold speech for a man who faces certain death,” the guard snapped.

Christopher only laughed and put his arm around his shorter-than-average daughter. “I think she’ll have something to say about that later,” he grinned before he allowed himself to be taken to the collateral carriage. The guard huffed and turned his attention to the girl.

“Name?” he snapped.

“Axelle Flint,” she answered calmly.

“Are you magical girl?”

“In a way,” she conceded. The guard didn’t press. There were so many different kinds of magic in Zelandra that listing them all would take decades. He led her to the covered wagon and helped her in where she sat (primly in his opinion) with the other women. He rolled his eyes and headed back to his horse. It didn’t matter if she was uppity or not, they all failed in the end. He might actually take pleasure in executing her lippy father though…he did so love abusing his power.

~*~

Axelle was far from silent on their days journeying to the testing grounds. She engaged the other girls around her in conversation, gathered what information she could from them. Apparently the test was always different but it remained impossible for any girl to succeed. Some of them fearfully wondered if the king was mad and if “winning” was a good thing. Axelle did her best to comfort the others but didn’t reveal her own fears and plans lest they were overheard. She wasn’t sure what the guards would do with her information but no doubt they’d make her life difficult nonetheless. When the wagon stopped and the guards began ushering them out Axelle found herself confronted by a giant tower made of stone and a sprawling castle nearby.

“Welcome ladies!” a man dressed in a pristine military uniform greeted them. “This is the Tower. Here you will be tested to see if you are suitable to rule Zelandra alongside his Royal Majesty King Caine. “If you fail your loved ones will be executed! Any questions?” he barked.

Axelle raised her hand. “How many tries do we get?”

“The king in his wisdom had granted you each with two chances, now-,”

Axelle raised her hand again. “Can we answer the question however we want or is there a set answer to the problem?” She could tell she’d thrown the guard off.

“You don’t even know what the test is yet!” he stalled.

“I know, that’s why I’m asking, like…if we come to a different answer and it’s still right does it count or must it be the king’s answer?” she pressed as the girls huddled behind her.

“It is my understanding of His Majesty’s decree that as long as you answer the question you may advance to the labyrinth guarding the castle.”

“What if one of us answers and there are people left to guess? What happens to their families?”

“They would go free as the candidate for queen has been found,” the guard snapped quickly, clearly growing impatient.

“So only one of us can be the candidate?” one of the other girls piped up.

“The king is desperately searching for a queen, after eight fruitless years I am sure that one candidate would be better than none,” the guard finally sighed. “Now if you are quite finished there is a test to administer,” he snapped again as this time the women were huddled into the tower and the door was locked behind them…the test had begun.

~*~

Meanwhile, in a cell in the basement of another tower Christopher Flint, relaxed on a crude bench while the others around him bemoaned their fate. “Why are ya’ll so upset? Don’t you have any faith?” he snapped.

“I think faith is in short supply these days,” came a maliciously entertained voice as the king himself descended the stairs. “You however my good man, seem quite confident in your daughter? I rather like that…I wonder what sort of person she might be?”

Christopher didn’t like the look of the king. Sure he could be considered good-looking, but there was an evil glint to his eye that made the blacksmith wary. But rather than undermine his own faith in his daughter the blacksmith merely smiled. “I’d be careful if I were you, my daughter won’t take kindly to you holding me here,”

King Caine snorted, “You talk as if I should be afraid, no mere slip of an ordinary girl will scare me,” he laughed.

Christopher responded with a snorted laugh of his own. “Oh, you’ll be afraid alright; my baby girl is anything but ordinary.”

~*~

Inside the tower the girls all huddled around the intricate, heavy lock that had been placed on the bolt inside the door. The main guard from before stood in the corner watching them and a large trunk of keys stood beside him. The task was simple…undo the lock. The problem was that at two tries each, unless one of them was incredibly lucky, the chances of them finding the right key in those two tries out of hundreds were impossibly stacked. They all agreed to each try opening it once any way they could and then stop to reassess. No one wanted their family to die.

One girl tried to melt the lock with her fire power but couldn’t generate enough heat. Another tried to pick the lock with no avail. Several of the other girls with powers unable to break the lock or no powers at all tried the keys. Finally, it was Axelle’s turn. She had sifted through the keys with some of the others but had come to the conclusion that the key wasn’t there, the lock was old and heavy, all the keys available were finely made and smaller, she thought it terribly unfair but it renewed her resolve to challenge the king. She turned to the guard again. “Anything goes right? They all tried once; if I open the lock their families go free?”

The laughter of the guard irritated her to no end. “Little girl, if you can open that lock, I’ll eat my shoes.”

“I hope you’re hungry,” she answered, striding over to the heavy lock and wrapping one of her small hands around it. The other women watched with keen interest as Axelle’s arm tensed slightly. There was the scream of metal and a clank before the large, heavy lock landed at her feet, crumpled into a ball. “Right, I win, they go home, next task!” she announced fearlessly as she kicked open the door with enough force to send it flying into the afternoon sunlight.

Grateful girls poured from the tower as shocked guards, all veterans of this spectacle all stared at the diminutive red-head that had emerged victorious. The tower stood behind her, suddenly not so terrifying and tall. “I demand to see the king,”

“B-but…” one of the guards stuttered as their emerging leader looked too flabbergasted to do much more than gape like a fish at the heavy, now splintered door lying at his feet. “You have to get to the center of the labyrinth in an hour…”

“How big is it?” Axelle asked with genuine curiosity.

The guard didn’t answer, he didn’t seem able to. Considering that no one had ever made it out of the tower successfully, Axelle wasn’t surprised. Shrugging her shoulders the girl strode off across the meadow. There wasn’t much land between the tower and the maze and there was yet another large tower in the center that she assumed she needed to reach. She managed the journey in about ten minutes at a brisk pace and met the outer wall with her shoulder, crumbling it like paper. Papa had always said that the shortest route between two points was a straight line and the shortest route to her Papa was straight to that tower. Excited girls and gaping guards followed in her destructive wake as she cleared a path to the tower in the center of the labyrinth.

It took fifteen minutes (including breaks for her shoulders) before Axelle reached the inner courtyard of the tower. Before her stood who she assumed was the king looking both incredibly curious, pleased and angry at the same time, it was an interesting mix of emotions. “My dear! How wonderful of you to make it! You are the first person in all this time who’s managed to make it this far!” his voice was excited and sweet…too sweet, like candy.

Axelle suddenly laughed. ‘Candy Caine’, it reminded her of a sweet that only came out around winter time. It was special but it had a tendancy to burn your tongue if you ate too many because the spice used to flavor it was so strong. The king, not privy to her thoughts frowned.

“Is something funny my dear?” he demanded.

“No, sorry…I was just thinking of something else, anyway…I challenge you to a duel!” she announced.

The courtyard was so quiet a pin might have dropped for all to hear.

Then the land began to rumble and rose around them. The king looked furious now. “You DARE challenge me? My family has ruled these lands for generations! Girl do you know the kind of power I have?!” he demanded as he drew the sword present at his side. “Anything you bring to me I can block, I’ve seen masters train using their hands and feet as weapons, you cannot touch me!” he boasted.

Axelle studied him for a moment and kicked around some dirt at her feet which she knelt to sift through.

“What are you even doing?” he demanded with clear exasperation.

“Battle plan,” Axelle answered quietly as she drew strange symbols in the dirt and secretly gathered the dust in her palm. She didn’t need to wait very long for Caine to grow angry with her; she didn’t peg him as a patient man. When he lunged she stood and met his sword with her hand, stunning him, giving her time to fling the dust into his open eyes. From there it was laughably easy for her to disarm him and toss him carelessly, high over her shoulder, turning to watch him land with a sickening thud at a very strange angle in the meadow near the first tower. The raised ground shuddered and descended, there was strange, unearthly music and a mysterious power flowing through the very ground of Zelandra itself…a new queen had come to the throne…”



“PPPAAAAAPPAAAAA!!!” the eight-year-old Axelle interrupted. “You totally made that story up!! There’s no such THING as magic!”

“Of course there is sweetheart!” Christopher tried to placate.

“NU-UH, I know how a car works, that’s not magic! And no one can be super strong or have fire power!”

“Well maybe SOMEWHERE they do?”

“Where?”

“I don’t know, you like science right? There are billion other kinds of worlds out there, maybe one of them has magic!” he argued. He appreciated that Axelle thought about it for a moment.

“Did they live happily ever after?” she finally asked.

Gratefully sighing, Christopher finished his story. “Yes, they all lived happily ever after,” he rushed because frankly he’d been free-styling it since “Old Man Neville” having used the name of his old school counsellor to get through things. “Alright Honey go to sleep okay? I’ll show you how to change a tire tomorrow,” he said absently, dropping a kiss to his daughters head as he turned the light off. He was a little disappointed that she didn’t seem to take to the magic premise so well, at least HE liked to think that there was a world where powers existed, ah well, maybe that’s why they were called fairy tales.

[Percie Hobbes]

80. Decay
TW: death, horror elements, angst

Axelle sat in the tree house crying. It had been a stressful year but it was finally all over. She could smell the smoke from the pyres all around the perimeter of the city and tried to think of a time when things were normal. She was grimy; dirty…she hadn’t bathed in a long, long time. Water for anything other than drinking and cooking was a luxury that she and most people didn’t have at the moment. Her hair was half red, half strawberry blonde…streaked with grey and white, she would have cut it a long time ago if it hadn’t given her an anchor…something to strive for. Someday things would be normal again and she could go to a salon and have it colored.

She heard a noise from down below and every muscle in her body tightened. She strained for the tell-tale signs that would alert her to the abomination that had come suddenly in the night all those months ago, the things that had taken her father, her grandfather…her friends. There was growling…one had escaped! She gripped the gun in her hands steadily, trying not to squeeze too hard…it could withstand a lot being military grade but she was still strong enough to break it.

Axelle held her breath and listened as the beast snuffled below her refuge. Any minute she would have to lean over the exit and dispatch it before it started climbing into her sanctuary. She prayed that it wasn’t someone she’d known, she knew that there would be physical features left, even after the abomination had finished shifting, splintering and morphing their body to suit its horrible needs. She remembered those first few horrible months after she’d been separated from her father, seeing him again with the countenance of the monster, flesh decaying around the new form writhing beneath his skin. Survival had seen her killing him as quickly and mercifully as she could but the psychological damage was still holding her in its icy grip. She took a deep breath, loaded the weapon and leaned over just as the beast looked up to spot her.

It wasn’t someone she recognized as she squeezed the trigger, sending a powerful round of explosives into the monster’s head, even if it was…kill or be killed and transformed. She watched as the creature exploded from such a powerful shot at close range. She wished she could feel some sense of victory or accomplishment but she just felt tired and sad. She knew she had stalled long enough; she shouldered her gun and climbed out the window, dropping gracelessly to the ground below, grunting at the impact she made when she hit the ground. Unfazed by her drop she gathered a can of gas from the garage and dumped it over the still, gooey body of her kill. With an unemotional gaze she took a match from the box inside one of her many pockets and backed up to strike it. She stared at the glittering flame for a moment before tossing it onto the creature. She turned and didn’t look back as the flames so close to the tree danced into the branches, tickling the bottom of the tree house she’d found refuge in since childhood.

She could see other survivors with smaller pyres where the dead lay. Any movement was dealt with swiftly, coldly. As Axelle walked through the streets of what had once been Pilot Ridge she noted how old the town suddenly looked. All rotting wood and broken stone, it was rank with decay. Logically, she knew that this was the last of the abominations but she also knew that no one would sleep soundly for a very, very, very long time. Tired, weary, and overall afraid that the nightmare would somehow erupt again, the twenty-year old climbed the steps of Town Hall and pushed the doors opened. Inside a veritable maelstrom was taking place as papers, phone calls and other strategic things were taking place. She made her way through a crowd that parted for her and entered a room just off the main hall. She collapsed onto a couch that had certainly seen better days and dropped her head into her hands.

All she could see was rotting flesh, sharp, dripping teeth, deadly claws. There was a point of clarity…eyes…her father’s eyes had remained and the way they had stared at her was unnerving, unreal…perhaps that’s why it had been so easy to pull the trigger. He looked like her father…but he wasn’t. She wept. Things would never be the same again…the life she’d envisioned a year ago was gone, she would be starting from veritable scratch and in a position she would have never dreamed she’d inhabit. She struggled to stop the tears as a knock sounded on the door. It took her longer than she would have liked.

“Enter,” she ordered.

“Commander Flint…the president would like to speak to you,” a flustered secretary told her.

Axelle sighed a shuddering breath; it had been a long, stressful year…and another one was just beginning.

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#87 – Voice

Day labor didn’t pay well, but it was the best that he could do, the only opportunity afforded to him.

He was big and strong, which got him picked for projects during the day.

He was smart but nobody knew that and nobody cared.

He was crazy, and that was what had ruined his life in the first place. There weren’t many jobs for people who didn’t have high school diplomas. And mental institutions weren’t known for their varied educational opportunities.

He didn’t miss his parents; they’d stopped visiting during his third year at the institution and he could barely remember what they looked like. He missed his sister sometimes, and he wondered if she even knew she had a brother, or if their parents had said he died. That was a common lie.

His tenement was down the street from a church. He went to mass when he could. He didn’t take communion because his soul wasn’t in a state of grace. He didn’t give confession because he couldn’t promise not to repeat his sins. He put no money in the collection plate because he was perpetually broke. But he sat in the back and listened to the hymns and the homily, even though it was in English instead of Latin. Latin reminded him of his childhood and better times.

His only form of ID was a library card. It was also his most precious possession, because it was his key to a million other worlds.

On the days when he wasn’t picked for projects, he went down to the college campuses and sat on a bench with one of the books he took out of the library. He was a little older than the gownies but he mostly blended in, and he felt almost normal when he was there. Like he might have belonged in another world.

The voices were loudest during the day and out in public like that. His time at the institution hadn’t gotten rid of them; instead he’d only learned how to lie about them. No, I don’t hear voices anymore. It’s just me in my head. The voices told him what to say to make his doctors believe him. The voices told him what to say or do to get through work as well, and they made it easier to handle anyone else he might encounter. People would rarely hassle him on the bench; if someone did stop to talk to him, he could get them to go away pretty easily. If he wanted it bad enough.

Once when he was reading a worn paperback on the bench, a young man with brown hair handed him a piece of paper that said Up the Revolution! He didn’t know what the Revolution was, but there was a date, time, and location for a meeting on the bottom of the paper.

So one night he skipped his night work and went to the place on the paper.

The voices were loud there. There were too many people in one place.

The people didn’t pay much attention to him, although someone offered him a beer. He didn’t drink because it was bad for his focus, but he was grateful for the offer and said as much. He tried to smile as well, although it looked strange; he only knew how to smile to entertain the people who tricked with him, and they liked exaggerated expressions. He hadn’t smiled naturally since before he started hearing the voices.

The brown haired man was there and introduced a blond man who described a world where everyone was treated equally and had access to their needs and wants and dreams. There was a march planned.

He couldn’t go to the march because it was during work hours. He’d already put himself at a disadvantage by coming here tonight, since he’d have to make up the rent money somehow, but he’d been curious and had to know. Even though he couldn’t go, he listened while everyone talked about what could be done to change the world.

When the meeting was over, everyone started filing out, but he remained in the corner. The voices were quieter now.

The brown haired man asked him if he wanted company while they walked home. He didn’t think the brown haired man lived in the same neighborhood as he did, considering the nice jacket he had, but he agreed because he didn’t get much company. The voices didn’t count. But perhaps they had a bus line in common.

While they walked, the brown haired man noticed the book in his back pocket and talked about how much he’d enjoyed that same book. Then he’d asked if he was majoring in English.

He thought he was a gownie.

It made sense; they’d met on a bench at the college.

He didn’t want the brown haired man to think less of him, and so he didn’t say what it was that he did. He didn’t say that he wasn’t a student. He just said that he wasn’t majoring in English and silently hoped there wouldn’t be any more questions.

He’d hoped hard enough, because the brown haired man looked briefly disoriented, like he couldn’t remember what they were talking about. He prompted him by asking more about the Revolution. That seemed to be the brown haired man’s trigger, because he started talking excitedly and he didn’t stop. He talked the whole way back to the college, explaining how great the Revolution would be once they all joined forces. The voices told him that the brown haired man truly believed what he said, and that made it all the better.

Once they split up, he headed back to his tenement, but he was better off for the talk. It was good to know that there were some people who cared. Even if they were a bunch of gownies who would leave the city as soon as they graduated and would probably never come back.

[Percie Hobbes]

85. - Jump
TW: Mentions of suicidal thoughts, angsty
Canon in Percie’s past before she became a detective ~ she’s about 25 when this happens

There were days when Percie felt far too young for her job. Today was one of those days as she stood with her feet braced against the railings of the bridge with her arms wrapped tightly around the waist of a local teen run away. She had been patrolling a back rural road when she’d chanced on the kid climbing over the railing of the bridge. She’d quickly called for backup over the radio but knew that it would take time for people to get here and she didn’t have the luxury of sitting back and watching preventable tragedy unfold.

His name was Harvey and he wasn't fighting her thank god but he wasn't helping her either...just leaning forward in the circle of her arms. If she let him go he would die. There was no drama here, it was the literal truth. She was strong enough to support him and keep herself steady but unless he leaned back and grabbed onto something she would lose her balance hauling him over to safety.

"Let me go! I wanna jump!" he wept insistently, head of curly red hair hung in utter defeat.

Percie instinctively tightened her grip, "No, no you don't!" she reassured him as calmly as possible. Her eyes couldn't help but dart down to the ravine below. She knew exactly his body would look after it had hit the bottom. She stamped down the urge to vomit as images from a less fantastic time during her training period resurfaced. "There are people who love you Harvey; they'd be very, very upset if you died."

"No one would care! My mom hits me and her boyfriends don't like me..." he took a broken breath on a heaving sob. Percie had seen the bruises fading around his eyes and the cut on his lip, assuming that they had been gotten while he was on the run; it hadn't occurred to her that domestic abuse had been the cause. She stamped down another urge that called for revenge at a later date.

"I'll protect you, I won't let her hurt you anymore," Percie blurted out; shit…her mouth always chose the worst times to run away from her.

“No you can’t, that’s what the other cop said but my mom got me back!”

“Your friends would miss you!” Percie quickly tied again, knowing that anymore down the path of his stressed home life might cause him to renew efforts and fight her.

“I don’t have any friends,” he snapped.

Percie knew that wasn’t true. Her powers had been going into overdrive, shifting through every memory she could since he mentioned his mother and his family life.

“What about that nice girl in your science class? She’d miss you! And your bandmates!”

“They don’t know the real me!” Harvey screamed, not seeming to even question the how or why of how she knew about them.

Percie could see a scared child huddled in a corner of his bedroom as some unknown man pounded on his door, taunted him…how a teen flinched when his mother screamed abuse…dealt abuse. How the boy tried to smile at school, how he thought that no one seemed interested or cared about the bruises he had because on top of everything, the school bullies were always harassing him.

“How could anyone miss someone they didn’t know?” he shifted forward, Percie pulled back.

“I know you! I’d miss you!” she gasped, straining to keep him safe. “If you die right now I would never forgive myself!”

“No one asked you to be a damn hero!” the teen shouted back defiantly.

“You never wished someone would come save you?!” Percie gasped back with a grunt.

Harvey stilled, chest heaving…she could feel his tears dripping onto her arms. “No-no one would have come…no one ever comes,” he stuttered.

“I came, I’m right here…you didn’t even have to ask. Just back up, lean back Harvey,” she felt him shudder and lean back. “I’m sorry you were hurt, I’m sorry you were scared, but I’m here right now and I got here as fast as I could.”

She could feel the tension start to leave his body. “Grab the railing, that’s it…” she coaxed when she saw his hands reach back. “Turn around,” she encouraged, holding onto him as he did as she said and helped her drag him back over the railing. The two collapsed onto the rural road, him openly sobbing into her neck as she held onto him as tightly as she could and took deep breaths.

It wasn’t long before she could hear sirens of an approaching ambulance and another police car as her backup arrived. When the paramedics were checking the teen’s physical condition, Percie made sure to take a copy of his information with her.

Two days later, with Harvey in protective custody and getting ready to stay with his aunt in Oklahoma, Percie paid a visit to his old home to arrest his mother, it gave her immense pleasure pushing the woman into her police car and driving her to the station where she’d later be booked for a myriad of other crimes that would ensure that by the time the woman DID manage to get out of jail, her son would be so far away from her reach and influence that he might be able to forget that he ever had such an awful parent.

That was enough to give her at least a little closure.

[Deleted]

98. Stumble
March 14, 2015; Canon

On the outside, Kodi might not seem much different to most people. He was still the snarky, misogynistic, secretly nerdy and insecure guy that most knew, for all external appearances. He brooded in class, shot insults at people he didn’t like, and rolled his eyes at stupid idiots on a regular basis. Oriel was often the brunt of such insults, because he took them as well as he gave them, and Kodi was the same.

Of course, the one person that saw the other side of Kodi didn’t see most of that; the dentokinetic tried to keep that sort of behavior limited only to when Gryph wasn’t around. The winged meta probably knew anyway, but that was just how Kodi was around most people. It was his defense. With Gryph, of course, the feral teenager became quite the fluffy little lovebug, and even more so with the newest addition to their little family, Fang. In all appearances, he seemed alright.

He wasn’t, though. Not really. Not since he’d made the stupid mistake to try and break up with Gryph and had sought out a relationship he’d thought he was more “deserving” of, which turned out to be abusive and traumatizing in more ways than one. Kodi had thought he’d be over it by now, months afterwards, but the effects still lingered in the corners of his mind, leaping out when he wasn’t expecting, like in bed at night when he couldn’t sleep, or randomly in the book store when he thought he caught a glimpse of someone very Damon-like. It was a constant struggle that he tried to keep hidden from Gryph too, but he didn’t think he was entirely successful no matter how hard he tried.

The nightmares were the worst. Kodi never knew when he’d have them, or what triggered them, but one moment he’d be asleep without a conscious thought, and the next he’d be jolting awake to escape the demons that haunted his dreams. If he was with Gryph, the older boy did a good job of calming him down; if he was in the dorms, however, it could take him hours to get back to sleep, if he did at all. During the daytime, sometimes Kodi would start to blank out and stare into space without realizing it, something he’d rarely ever done in the past. And another, more physical, recent development was the excess weight he’d been gaining from exercising less and stress-eating more. He explained it by saying that it was happy weight because he was content with Gryphon, but that wasn’t the whole truth.

Gryph was probably aware of some of it, Kodi knew. The nightmares, at least. And he didn’t know how many of his other excuses that the older boy believed, but… All he knew was, he didn’t want to worry his boyfriend. It had been his fault for the entire ordeal in the first place, and he was trying his best to deal with the consequences as much on his own as he could.

Some days were worse than others. Today was one of those days.

It was getting later in the day, which Kodi had used as an excuse to pull out one of his few bottles of hard liquor to drown out some of his memories in. Drink in hand, he found himself wandering around downtown, swaying slightly as the alcohol started to take its effect. He hadn’t told Gryph where he was going; he just… Needed to get away for a bit. And getting himself piss-drunk had always seemed to work in the past (no it hadn’t). At the least, it made his head foggy enough so that he could begin to forget what had made him so upset in the first place.

He’d developed a pretty strong resilience to the stuff, after how much of it he’d drank in his younger years as a way to cope with his inner demons. He’d promised Gryph he’d cut down on it, but… But some days, he just couldn’t really deal with anything with a sober head.

As the sun began to set and he started thinking about heading back to the dorms (no way was he going to let Gryphon see him like this), Kodi began swiveling in the direction of Hammel. The streets were beginning to bustle with night life, although Pilot Ridge was never incredibly busy, so Kodi had plenty of room on the sidewalk to sway and stumble. The bottle he was carrying was nearly empty now, the rest sloshing around somewhere in his queasy stomach. Damn… Maybe his tolerance wasn’t as good as it used to be…

Whatever. He knew which way he was going. Probably. Kodi shook his head and wobbled on, glarng at anyone that looked at him for too long. Hmph, punks, what were they looking at? He growled to himself quietly, wishing he could just hide in Gryph’s wings. But not today.

Today, he was going to be tripping over an uneven patch in the sidewalk and send himself sprawling up against the wall of a shabby-looking brick Chinese restaurant. And so he did, and none too gracefully, even managing to make a strange surprised choking sound on the way down. He lay there for a moment, groaning and hoping no one had seen, until a voice chimed in from behind him.

“Are you alright there, sweetie?” it asked. Feminine, high-pitched, faintly accented. Kodi was immediately wary and defensive. “’m fine, ‘m fine…” he grumbled, waving away the lady’s gross hand to help him up. Who did she think she was anyway, huh? Kodi tried brushing himself off for a moment until he realized the lady was still there. Okay, now she was just being creepy. “I said m’fi-”

Kodi’s words stuck in his throat as he finally caught a glimpse of who the person was. A middle-aged Chinese woman, pretty but worn, with long silver-streaked hair pulled back into a simple braid. She didn’t stand out in any particular way, and normally Kodi would have sneered at her before stalking off on his own. However, this was a special case. A completely unexpected surprise. The dentokinetic gawked at the woman for several long moments, and she stared back at him, the expression on her face showing that she was thinking something similar to him.

Finally, Kodi managed to croak out a single word.

“…. Mom?”

[Ella Robbinson]

59. Try Again.

Fridays were the worst days.

Ella was relieved when James stopped visiting once a day. She didn't have to pretend she wasn't home, despite how pointless that seemed. After all, any movement behind the locked door of her apartment was impossible to keep silent for someone with such perfect hearing. He knew in every moment when she was and wasn't home. After a while, James stopped dropping by every day to way to see if she would talk to him. Instead, he opted for every week.

Fridays, of all days.

Ella grew to dread them. That afternoon was like every other Friday afternoon. A knock at the door and the hemokinetic paused in her paces.

"Ella." He called. And moments later, three heavy knocks came to the door. A fist pounding against the wood. She knew the sound must have hung heavy in his ears; it must have echoed for seconds in the back of his mind before it faded entirely.

He knocked again. Three times. And she took three steps towards the door as if the heavy sound he offered would somehow cover them. "Ella, it's Friday."

Friday. Like that made any difference. Except that it did.

It wasn't all that long ago that he changed her perception of him completely on a Friday. He told her he'd visit after they first re-met, and she completely doubted he would. After all, he was James Lawrence, and at the time she doubted he'd be anything more than the boy who interrupted her walk in a hallway back in 2006. But he turned up on that very Friday. And he hadn't stopped since new years.

"Can you just tell me what I did?" He asked, his voice slightly muffled by the wall between them. In that moment she wished to have the ability he did; to hear his voice clearly. But the heavy nature of her own heart reminded her of why she stayed as she was. Relationships weren't her forte. She wasn't built for them. She should never have tried in the first place. She doubted she'd ever been fit to ruin a person, but there, then, she was that low. "Or maybe I-"

James stalled for the adjacent word. She'd taken a step. And sure as his hearing could never fail him, she'd taken it towards the door. His heart kicked up a notch, and just as he'd heard her step, she heart his beat.

It was like a magnetic rhythm, one for the other until she pressed her palms against the locked door. The single thing between them.

"I know you're there." He argued, flatly. She opened her mouth to answer as if she genuinely could. "I can hear you." But she knew that. He knew she knew that. "And I'm betting you can feel me. You can feel how crazy this's making me, so what's the point? Just tell me what the point is!"

Nothing. Ella gave him nothing. She knew the point, but it wasn't his to hear. It wasn't his to take. Against the door, she held her eyes shut tight; a single thought and she could settle him enough to find the confidence to walk away. She felt the rhythm of his heart despite the disconnection. Slowly but surely, through every facet of her being, she felt worked to ease it.

"Stop!"

His fist collided with the door again - a louder shot and a single hit for the frustration she could feel pulsing through his neck - and she felt the vibration through her palms before she reeled them back. She stood still, stagnant in the silence of his creation. Three Fridays in a row now, he'd come back to her.

Next Friday, he didn't.

[Deleted]

#31 - On My Mind

“I had another one this week,” Nao said casually. He took another small bite of his sandwich. Then another. Small his mouth may be, but Naozumi still ate quickly. His companion was no different.

“Aiyaa….how many time is that now?” Xun asked, his face colored in surprise.

Nao kept his head lowered, still nibbling on his sandwich, and replied casually. “Seventeen.” To the outsider, it may seem like Nao was nonchalant about the issue, which wasn’t a surprise. There were few who were able to pick up the subtleties of the Asian boy’s emotions.

Xun had spent enough time with the boy to notice that his good friend and training buddy was quite perturbed over the numerous dreams he’d had of this boy Ray. Explicit dreams. Just imagining having that many over one person and in such a short amount of time made the Chinese boy blush out to his ears. Even though he knew Naozumi was troubled by these dreams, Xun wondered how he could manage to speak of them so straightforwardly. Xun himself could barely speak with a member of the opposite sex without stuttering like a moron.

Still…that didn’t stop the older boy from asking about them, as to console his younger friend in his time of distress. No matter how uneasy it made him. How could a boy over two years his junior approach this subject with such ease? Xun was only a little bit envious. “<If you want to tell me about it, you can,>” he said, switching to Mandarin. It was to keep the contents of their conversation more private, but also to put the Chinese boy’s mind more at ease.

Naozumi raised his head from the mosty eaten sandwich and offered Xun a small smile. “<Thank you,>” he said simply, then turned his head out to look at those student racing across the snow-covered courtyard. It looked like fun. “<I’m not sure how much there is to talk about. Though…>” Nao paused, thinking of where he was going with this. “<I do wonder if it means anything. It’s not just in dreams lately, either.>” A light pink color tinted his cheeks.

“<Not just in dreams?>” Xun repeated, unsure if he was understanding correctly. Thing had a tendency to go over Xun’s head, so if it wasn’t clarified, the boy might take it mean something completely different than intended. Luckily, Nao was the most straightforward person he knew.

The younger boy chuckled, and in his spirits, swallowed the last bite of his lunch, washing it down with a healthy gulp of water. Then he nodded. “<In class too, my mind is drifting more and more. It’s worrying.>”

No doubt it was. The classroom was not a place to be thinking about…about that, Xun thought, nodding along to Nao’s words.

“<He’s always on my mind lately,>” Naozumi admitted, his gaze looking down to his shoes slowly pushing aside the snow to make a hole. He kept both hands planted firmly on either side of him on the bench they were sitting on. Looking closely, the smile he had before had yet to vanish. “<The most troubling thing is, actually,>” he started softly. “<….is that I don’t find it unpleasant.>”

Xun wasn’t sure if that made sense. “<It’s not unpleasant, but still troublesome?>” How did that work exactly. He was trying to relate to Naozumi’s ‘plight’. He knew he’d never been in such a situation before, but surely there were at least a few people in his life whom he wouldn’t mind thinking about so often. Was there…? A faint blush appeared when he thought of one particular person. Still…. “<I’m sorry, Nao. I don’t…I don’t think I can understand that.>” He wished he could though.

Naozumi giggled at his friend’s response. “<It’s okay,>” he assured Xun, bringing his curled fingers up to hide his mirth. “<I don’t expect you to.>”

*PHUMPH*

It came from nowhere and caught both boys completely by surprise, but before Xun could respond Nao’s jet black hair was suddenly speckled in a frozen white dust. Both boys turn to look behind them to see the very tall, lanky person in question. “Nao!” he called, waving from afar and laughing as if he’d just achieved a 100 point shot. Xun noticed the wings on his ankles were beating down excitedly. Xun turned back to his friend. “<He’s calling for you,>” he commented, stating the obvious. Obviously. Though not just calling, but it looked like he was taunting the other Asian boy to engage. But Naozumi wasn’t the kind of person to get caught up in a silly snowball fight, was he?

“Hey! That’s not--!” Naozumi started to shout, and the bundled boy promptly hopped off the bench, packed himself a snowball, and chucked it in the winged-boy’s direction. When Ray stepped back and stuck out his tongue at his attacker, Naozumi quickly grabbed another handful of snow and dashed after him, completely forgetting about the conversation and leaving Xun behind.

Xun watched the scene with a bewildered stare. “<Looks like fun,>” he said to himself. Xun turned back around, leaving the other two to their play. He’d keep watch over Nao’s things until he came back(though there was no guarantee the rest of his lunch would still be there waiting for him). Naozumi seemed happy, Xun thought. Was having someone like that really….?

Xun looked out into the courtyard at the students passing by. A lot of them were in pairs, or groups of three or four. Those two looked like they might be…..

It was none of his business. Really, Xun, were you turning into a voyeur?

He paused.

With a sigh, Xun pulled out his phone and searched through his contacts list for a certain number. He held his thumb over the name for about a minute before finally pressing it and putting the phone to his ear. He sat up when the person picked up. “H-hi, JEN, ahh….Jen….It’s me….Xu—nn….you know that, right.” What was speaking? What was wording? Xun stumbled through a small stream of Chinese before finally getting to the point. Sort of. “Ah, do you eat, um..food?” A pause. His cheeks were red. “Yes….I know, of course you do…but would you, instead, eat me…? …………..No! I didn’t mean like!!” Aiya what was he saying? Xun swallowed, took a breath, and tried again. “D-do you wanna eat food with me?” he asked rapidly. He waited for an answer and nodded, smiling softly when it came. “Okay,” he said.

[Eli Morrison]

5. Transparent

"Eli, do you love me?"

The question had thrown him off. For a man who knew everything, it was surprising how frequently he didn't know what he wanted to say when it came to his best friend. However, he had a policy not to lie to her.

"More than anything."

"So Eli," Mii said the following day as she walked into the kitchen. She leaned casually against the door frame in a way that conveniently blocked his escape, keeping him in the room where he couldn't keep avoiding her. "I have been doing some research."

"Mii...."

She crossed her arms. "We don't have to talk about this now, but we have to talk sometime. Because I love you too, and we've got a kid to raise."

Eli could have argued there. Tory technically didn't have any actual relation to him. But that was another thing that they never really discussed, that Eli saw the little boy as his own son. "It's not the same kind of love, though..."

"It's the love that means we want to spend the rest of our lives together. And in that case, I think we should talk about what we're going to do. Or at least talk." He could hear the frustration creeping into her voice.

Okay, if she wanted to talk, he was going to talk about it. "I'm asexual. And pretty much aromantic as well. I'd make a terrible boyfriend for you."

"I think I get to decide what I'm looking for in a boyfriend, thanks." The recruiter rolled her eyes. "And like I've said. I've been doing research. There are options out there, and other couples like us. You've said enough about why it's a bad idea, and how you can't meet my needs, but who says we have to be like couples in sappy movie?"

"But you love sappy movies." Eli protested, but it was only half-hearted. If she was so sure...then why not?

"I do." Mii smiled and reached for her best friend's hand. "But if you're willing to talk about this, let's talk."

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#39 – Older

Joshua Bernstein had a conundrum on his hands.

On one hand, he loved his partner and wanted to make him happy. That involved respecting his wishes and his boundaries, in addition to keeping in mind everything that the telepath expressed to him, either through words or through behavior or body language.

On the other hand, every instinct he had – culturally, socially, projecting his own desires onto others – told him that the solution to this problem involved a party. A big party. With food, friends, dancing, and plenty of alcohol. More than that, big, ostentatious displays were how he showed his affection for his friends, and his love for his family and his partner.

Sixty was such a big birthday. He had to do something to mark the occasion for the telepath.

Yet, Josh remembered clearly what had happened at Sean’s fiftieth birthday party. He had never seen anyone so despondent during an expensive party with all of his friends, one that had been a group effort for coordination and planning, and which had taken months to set into motion.

A decade later, the attorney still wondered how he had been the only one to notice. He wasn’t always great at reading subtle expressions, and Sean had played along at the party. The telepath had eaten and smiled and posed for photographs, and he had taken advantage of the open bar.

Yet the smiles had not reached Sean’s eyes, and he had drunk far more than usual, even for a party.

Then they had woken up in together, and Josh had been too ashamed to be helpful with anything besides clean-up.

Sean had been depressed for another three days.

The attorney couldn’t do that to his partner again. They had been together for almost six years this time around, and he wanted to make sure that they saw their sixth anniversary.

More seriously, he owed it to Sean to do better than that. What good was a partner – a spouse, as the telepath called him despite the lack of formal ceremony or legal recognition – if he failed to protect his other half’s emotional state? If he inflicted pain or caused depression rather than easing it?

As it was, Josh knew that he lagged behind in that department. So often, he felt adrift, uncertain of what he could do to make Sean happy or how to soothe him when he wasn’t. The attorney couldn’t exacerbate those feelings when he knew better.

He needed something simple. Something romantic and gentle or something that Sean could ignore if he felt like avoiding the entire day, without feeling obligated to see through Josh’s plans. Likewise, he needed to keep that in mind and not feel put out if the older man did what he had on his birthday a few years back, which had involved coming home, pouring himself a shot, and then disappearing into the bedroom for several hours of alone time.

What could he do to mark the occasion?

No parties. Absolutely no parties. Not even with only a couple of other people. Not even with only himself and Greg and Ryan and Shiya. Not even only with himself and Ryan without Shiya.

No parties.

What about a trip?

He had had moderate success with suggesting trips in lieu of proper birthday celebrations. They had gone to Boston a few years back, and Rhode Island the year after that; Sean had appeared to enjoy both of those. They had stayed once in that hotel made up of boats, and the telepath had enjoyed that until the weather had taken a turn for the unexpected; hurricane season had begun early and moved north far too quickly, ruining that trip. Sean hadn’t complained, of course, because he never did. Even when depressed, he never complained.

They had gone to Europe with Greg the year after their reconciliation, although that had been more of a true vacation, and primarily for his own benefit, and for Greg. Greg had needed the distraction after his false imprisonment and the murder of his husband Nathan. Josh had never been out of the country before. Sean had planned everything himself, and still had mostly come along for the ride.

Perhaps he could simply buy Sean something special.

Shopping for his partner had not been easy since they first moved back in together. Living in the same house day in and day out, he saw just how much stuff the telepath had accumulated. It boggled the mind.

Sean kept much of it in the attic for posterity, but he needed so little. He could buy his own clothing, and he did so. He had so many kitchen appliances and dishes and utensils and tools that Josh couldn’t identify the purposes of have of them.

Paul Simon hadn’t released a new album in two years.

They had cut back on their drinking, and so a fancy bottle of scotch or a subscription to a wine club would be inappropriate.

He already baked as a matter of course. He planned on baking Sean’s cake himself, but that hardly seemed sufficient for an occasion of this magnitude.

Then the idea came to him, and he smiled.

He could do this.

It took over a month to put everything together, a feat in itself since it involved consulting no other people. At least not for planning a party.

A trip to the tailor to have some of his clothing let out to fit his older and more ample frame. Coordinating with the Air B and B for the appropriate dates. Clearing his trial schedule so that they would have a week to themselves. Arranging the train transportation, since he didn’t want Sean to have to drive, and they would have public transit at their disposal once they arrived.

When the telepath came downstairs on his birthday, Josh greeted him, clad in the jacket that his sister had made him for senior year, and which he had worn freshman year of college. That he had worn the night they had first met. He presented him with the itinerary that he had planned.

“What is this?”

“We’re going back to New York for a few days. I have theater tickets and dinner reservations.” Then, lowering his voice, he added, “I spoke to the couple in our old apartment. They do Air B and B, and they’ll be out of town that week, so we can stay there.”

Tears formed in Sean’s eyes, and Josh kicked himself. He had overstepped. He shouldn’t have made such a big deal about this. He should have checked the telepath’s mood before-

Then the older man swept him up in a tight embrace. “Thank you.”

Josh returned the hug, not calling attention to his partner’s tears. “Happy Birthday.”

[Dr. Sean Neville]

#25 – Jubilant

The drive back to Pilot Ridge took less time than the drive to Boston had, due primarily to the fact that even the last of the rush hour traffic had dissipated hours ago. Despite that, the drive felt as though it took twice as long.

Anticipation made for a warped sense of time.

Josh sat beside him, leaning back in the chair with an expression that mirrored the telepath’s own. Throughout the several hours of driving, the younger man would touch his arm or his knee; briefly, lightly, not enough to distract him or to risk veering off the road, but enough to show that he was desired. A physical manifestation of the thoughts that Sean heard so clearly.

As though the conversation and their late-night supper had failed to cover that ground thoroughly enough.

His heart skipped a beat every so often. But for the anticipation, he might worry that he needed to visit the emergency room for irregular heart rhythm.

He had no desire to have a heart attack tonight. Not at any time in his life, but least of all tonight.

As he drove, he mentally replayed their conversation from earlier that night.

“I don’t regret very much...but this is one of them. You already know....you know my reasonings. It wasn't an easy choice and, ahh, I guess you could say I, ahhh, I feel like I made the wrong one."

Most people wouldn’t consider that a sweeping romantic gesture or the declaration of love on which a man might hang his heart. Yet, to Sean, they were the sweetest words he had heard in so long. Even with how regretful the younger man had been. Even with the hesitant pauses. Even with the fact that observation had told him – and telepathy had confirmed – that Josh had expected that he would be thrown from the car for saying those words.

They meant everything to Sean.

Just like, if he were inclined towards tattoos, and fortunately he wasn’t, in this moment, he might have "You know. if you...if you were amenable to trying again I would try to communicate better,” tattooed right above his heart.

Fortunately, he had impulse control and the ability to consider more than ten minutes in the future to prevent him from doing that.

He had more pressing concerns, more to look forward to that that.

Pressing concerns like Josh’s hand on his arm. Pressing concerns like the fact that they had now reached the garage, and that he had put the vehicle in park, pulled up the parking brake, and turned off the ignition.

Pressing concerns like how he literally had his lips pressed against the attorney’s. How Josh’s breath tasted of wine, cheesecake, and seafood, and how, in this moment, nothing had ever tasted better, more delicious, more appetizing.

How he had never wanted anything or anyone the way he wanted Josh right now.

How if anyone were to interrupt him because they needed a favor, he would give them anything, because he felt so good, as long as he could return to his friend to continue this moment.

“I love you,” he whispered, when they broke for air.

Josh turned beloved blue eyes towards him, lips slightly swollen from the kiss. “Can we go upstairs now?”

“Yes.” He would give anything in this moment to make it last forever, and yet to be upstairs with Josh meant even more.

They left the car behind. He unlocked the door, and hand-in-hand, they stepped through to begin again.

He had only been this happy once, long ago, years ago, when planning to do the same thing with Josh as he was tonight. Only they were both three decades older and somewhat the worse for wear.

Just like then, he couldn’t wait.

[Lucy Serrano-Blaise]

72. Victory.

Family traditions often sprang up around the holidays. Little things done every year became unknowing paths to follow every year beyond that. Alternating holiday plans between one country and the other had become all the more important with children involved, but after seventeen years of doing so, it became an easy structure to maintain. Five hours in a car or fifteen on a plane. This year, planes had been on the agenda. A still-anxious Brit and the three people in her life who worked to keep her distracted managed the miracle.

Calliope, Queensland. Where it was such a humid Christmas it was ridiculous.

It was difficult to determine which of the two was worse; the journey or the overwhelming company that still wasn't easy to get used to, even after over twenty years. Or the fact that every year, they had their own tradition. They piled into cars and they drove to the water. Unflagged beach-front, because Luka Serrano - Lucy's father - knew the waters like the back of his hand. Penny had given up on expressing just how painfully illogical a statement like that was years ago.

In those years, people had learned to stop asking why she didn't venture into the water. They learned that she didn't want to, not because she couldn't swim, but because she simply didn't. She sat as comfortably as she could on the sand, often joined by Lucy's mother in her moments of disinterest. But like every other year, an unmarked beach was practically littered with Serrano's by the afternoon.

Brothers to sisters to uncles to aunts to fathers to mothers to children to cousins. It was, as she'd best decribe, perfect chaos.

As always, Lucy came to her first. Like she always did before she disappeared, though thankfully she never tried to coerse her into the water. As her Australian stepped up to meet her, Penny couldn't help the way her gaze dwindled down the exposed length of her form. Even with years of having her counterpart wearing far less underneath her eyes, it couldn't stop her from looking. Nothing could ever stop her from staring. The trajectory of her eyes might have been hidden by the tint of her glasses, but Lucy knew all the same.

Finally, Penny spoke up; "Do you want me to-"

"Nah, left them at home."

It was an odd exchange, really. Lucy never remembered to take her rings off. It was exactly why Penny had to ask if she should hold onto them. Routine by now, and Lucy was suddenly breaking habit. It wasn't strange for her to do so, but everything warranted a little questioning. She didn't have long to ponder the idea given the way the ink manipulator leaned in, offering distraction from the thought by way of a slow kiss to her lips. One Lucy couldn't help but grin against.

Because she felt the presence of ageing tattoos in her proximity; a familiar lion worn by time and still sharp to its details. She moved to straighten her back, but before she could make it that forearm circled around her waist and hauled her away. A definite twist and the oldest Serrano daughter was over her father's shoulder. He swung back around, catching the surprised tones in the psychometrist's eyes. With his free arm, he shrugged.

"Warmest waters in the world." He offered, enticingly. At least, it was to him.

Because Lucy's father had the offering down to a fine art by now, and as such he knew he didn't need to give the entire speech about superior oceans and beaches in his country of origin. Just a summed up version in the form of a single sentence, and he waved his hand at her as she smiled graciously at him.

Good try - just like every other year when he tried - but it still wasn't enough.

She lost her wife and her father-in-law in a single swing of his arms; Penny watched from a distance as he literally carried her into the water, dropping her in without a care the second they were in deep enough.

Serrano's. It didn't matter how old they were, they were always the same as they were when she first saw them interact.

Then it was two teenage sons who came to ask her like they were as high as her knees again.

"Mom-" Link began.

"No." She stopped him, though lightly.

"But-"

"No." She reiterated, pausing in the time allotted before her eyebrows rose and she looked at him; "Did you-"

Sunscreen. She was about to ask about sunscreen. Because she'd already been shrugged off by the ink manipulator who was going to complain about it in a few hours.

"Yeah, mom. We're not twelve." Ellis replied, instinctively nudged by his older brother for getting a little too close in any given moment. His response was to press back with both hands, offering the young psychometrist a defined shove and a laugh for the way he stumbled in the sand.

"So you say." Penny reasoned, but she'd always remember them as they were, and it would never change. At least they both caught her brand of humour; at least they both laughed before they left her.

She brought a book with her, which wasn't all that jarring really, but it was always difficult to follow. In lighter moments when her sons were younger, the Brit was knowingly obsessed with watching them. Not simply out of safety, but rather, there was something enthralling about the way her counterpart managed to wrangle two little boys. How she'd swing either of them about, or drop one in the arms of her father and alternate between the two. How she managed, Penny couldn't say. But it was wonderful.

So Penny looked up to see that things were much the same. The Serrano family were always a little rough, and today was no exception. Lucy had her hands firmly around their youngest son's neck once he'd hauled her to her feet in the water. Her eyes narrowed a touch on the pair as he leaned in to her ear. And then she grinned; even from a distance, Penny could pick the curve of her counterpart's mouth when she was feeling smug. She looked right at her. Actually, they both did.

Then it dawned on her; she could only see one of their sons.

By the time she settled her book with her glasses at her side and sat up properly, there were hands reaching towards her from one side. With an arm beneath her legs and the other at her back, their oldest son held her in his cool, wet arms and made a straight shot to the water.

"Lincoln."

"No." He replied, his laughter practically infectious if it were anyone but his mother he was holding onto.

She still hooked her arms around his neck for her own sanity; "Lincoln Michael."

"Nope!"

He was taking steps in the water already now, kicking it up with every heavy footed pace he made. Penny held the boy as tightly as she could; they weren't far in, but it was further than Penny had ever wished to go in her life. Lincoln finally stopped, slightly heavy of breath as he glanced at his mother who stared down at the water. He squeezed her leg quickly, hauling her a little closer to himself until she finally looked back at him. Her face was as stern as ever.

"Lincoln Michael Serrano-Blaise, do not drop me." She stressed. But it wasn't negativity to the idea that he was in trouble; she was nervous in a completely different way.

"I wasn't planning on it." He replied finally, and seconds later he lowered down in the shallow water, back to the broken oncoming waves to shield her from the gentle onslought. A sudden intake of air from the surprise of it all, but at the very least, it was warm. "I had to," Link finally pointed out with a laugh, "Grandpa dared me to years ago. I just couldn't forget."

And from a distance, Penny could see the way her father-in-law was smiling from ear to ear.

"I've got you." He laughed.

"You have me." Penny quickly corrected, because even in a stressful state, she was sill Penny. She couldn't help herself.