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TVSTRANGERTHINGS

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KIROKAZE

if i look back, i am lost
h
Noah Kahan

oozey mess

gracie abrams
Cosmic Funnies

Discoholic 🪩
almost home
Aqua Utopia|海の底で記憶を紡ぐ
Stranger Things
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he wasn't even looking at me and he found me
let's talk about Bridgerton tea, my ask is open
RMH
The Bowery Presents

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@fluorescentpipedream
Rafael Acosta
Age: 43
New history teacher at O'Fallon High School in Illinois.
Born in the Bahamas to Malia Knowles and Gabriel Acosta on the Exumas (famous for the swimming pigs), however, after his father died, they moved to one of the main islands, closer to Freeport, to live with his mother's parents. He attended one of the private schools on the island, and during the summer, he worked as a waiter at a local tourist cafe. When he got older, he worked on the tourist route, usually renting surfboards or offering boat and fishing tours.
After graduating from high school two years early, he put more time into working on the fishing routes, saving as much of his money as he could so he could go to college. He opted to attend the University of the Bahamas for his generals, eventually finding a love of teaching and decided to go into getting a degree in education and social studies. He spent most of his college years couch surfing, eventually living with three other friends and sharing a home with them. While in his second year of school his mother married a man named Javion. They moved into a larger home closer to the tourist center of the island. While Javion isn’t a bad guy, Rafael isn’t a huge fan of him. “He's not a bad guy, don’t get me wrong, but I had 10 years with my father, and another 8 without one. I don’t need the kind of ‘I’m gonna be your dad…I wanna be your friend’ type” Despite not being close to his new father, Javion offered to help him cover the cost of transferring from UB to the Florida International University in Miami. Before going, though he takes two years and works a yacht charter as deck hand, saving pretty much everything he could. Javion had offered before the charters to pay for him to go, and though reluctant to take the offer he needed more help than he was expecting.
He lives in the dorm throughout his education, and gets dual degrees in secondary education and historical studies, becoming a history professor specializing in American history. He got a job working for a high school in Miami/Dade County while working on his masters degree and started teaching college American history. After several years of dealing with hurricanes he transferred from Miami to Missouri, working at Wash U.
During his years in the states his mother gave birth to twin girls and her and Javion moved from Freeport to Nassau. He’s a little warmer to his stepfather since the birth of his sisters who he adores.
After teaching at Wash U for about 5 years he became a bit dissatisfied with the kinds of students he was meeting and took a break from teaching for a little while, taking some time to visit his sisters, visiting his sisters Isadore and Sabrina, who are in their 20s now and working about the same way he did, a yacht charter as a stewardess and a tour guide, respectively. Their parents are on a world tour, when they got married, Javion promised to show Malia the world and now that they’re retired, he’s making good on that promise.
While at home he started looking for new teaching jobs, taking a phone interview first with Casper in O Fallon, telling him while he has a doctorate and a history teaching at universities, he likes high school better and feels he reaches more kids that way. They’re more like sponges in high school, not dead inside yet from life. Casper wanted to meet him in person and shortly before the new school year he joins the school admin.
His general theory on education is that it doesn’t matter how the kid learns, just that they do. “This was one of the problems I had with working at the university, I don’t care how the kid learns…they want to listen to music during a test? Fine. You wanna completely annotate the text book? Also fine, but I want a copy. If I assign something multimedia and you wanna to make a diorama like in middle school, that’s fine too. Just as long as you learn something while you’re doing it.”
He’s dated a lot but never really took time to get involved with anyone, typically his girlfriends think he’s too focused on work/school than anything else. “It’s an issue, not going to lie. I get locked in and don’t make time for much else” He briefly had a relationship with another man as well, the bosun of one of his charters but it ended in drama and he didn’t have the patience for that either. He’s not particularly centered one way or another, male or female he doesn’t care. He also loves babies, which is funny since he doesn’t have any of his own.
(I keep having an image of him holding Dani & Harry’s daughter Emma while they’re taking a test, Harry’s comment was mom was sick and had an appointment so they took Emma to school since they have the daycare, but the baby was being fussy and didn’t want to let go of Dani before class. She tried bringing her into the class but she continued to whimper and Rafael took her so Dani could focus. He basically teaches the rest of the class with the baby on his hip)
He usually goes by Mr. A though has told the student they can call him Rafe if they wanted to. So far no one has.
He has a version of this on his right upper chest and shoulder.
He also has dual citizenship since the Bahamas are not part of the US.
He speaks 5 languages, English, Haitian, Creole, Spanish & French
Apparently likes to sing and sometimes goes to karaoke
He also likes to cook and brings a rolled cake called a guava duff he made to his first class and does a quick cultural introduction to the islands.
Has a scarf crocheted for him by a student several years ago, she would work on it in his lectures, while recording the class, he asked her about it only once, part of his “I care how you learn, just as long as you do” theory. At the end of the class she gave it to him. It’s one of his favorite things
Morgan: I swear this is my usual expression when someone is talking to me *clicks tongue*
Adryan Raj had been born Rajesh Kapoor Anwar, the youngest son of Saif Ali Anwar and the prince of the City Palace of Udapiur in India. There are several royal families left in India, and his family was one of the most well-known. The Raj Mahal, or City Palace, is a focal point of tourism in the country, and at the time of his birth, they were trying to bring more conservation and hydropower to India, striving to move away from fossil fuels and convert the country into the powerhouse it should be for having the large population that it does. His father wanted people to think of India more than just the Taj Mahal and Bollywood.
Saif Anwar was the 65th ruler and 26th Majarahna of Udapiur when his third and youngest son was born, and the streets had been filled with showers of marigolds marking the birth of a new prince. Rajesh would never have been king like his father or older brother, Ravi Singh; his birth was still heralded as the ushering in of a new world order. The Anwar family was considered the last royal family, since the Indian Government had been making waves by trying to disband the royal families for some time, and Ravinder Anwar, his great-grandfather, had been making waves by refusing to accept the government and was unwilling to part ways with how life had always been.
Great promises were made to see that the royal families could continue to care for their people and over the course of the long years since Ravinder had ascended the throne and his son was to follow him, tourism had grown, the small empire within the country shrunk and expanded several times before finally the lines were redrawn and it was reinvisioned as a tourist location with museums and excursions, generating quadruple the amount of money as other areas in India. When Saif took the throne, he made drastic strides to bring all of India, not just his lands of Udapiur, into the future, turning their energy crisis into a self-sufficient, independent nation. No longer dependent on oil and fossil fuels from the rest of the world, India was slowly taking strides to stand on its own, reflecting what could be done if the royal families were allowed to continue to exist.
Like the plot of a Bollywood film, however, it was not to be. In the week leading up to Rajesh's sixth birthday the whole of the Raj Mahal lands were celebrating and it was in this time that the housing complex was suddenly, and tragically taken over by a massive fire. It was determined later that the fire was caused by a group claiming to represent a united India against the rise of the royal families. Most of the family made it out of the fire with only minor injuries except for Saif who suffered 2nd and 3rd degree burns and was left permanently disfigured. Rajesh was never found and was believed dead. Despite the speed that things were cleaned up and a headstone was made for the lost son, his brother Ravi always had doubts about his little brother's death. There was never a body found and his Amah had also disappeared, leading Ravi and his mother to believe that another fate may have come to Rajesh.
The night of the fire was loud and chaotic, Rajesh had been with his Amah in his room, getting his new robes on for the culmination of his birthday celebration. Raj was a rascal as his father referred to him and had a hard time settling, as most children did, when excited. His amah had just gotten him dressed and draped a family heirloom, a small, mace shaped pendant he was only allowed to wear this night as a symbol of his family line and his position to carry on the family name like his brother would. As he had touched the small pendant, the door to his room was opened by several bodyguards he recognized, and both he and his amah were escorted to the ballroom, where the party was already in full swing. Once seated beside his family, at the center of everyone's attention, Raj was given a small piece of marzipan (his favorite) and a cup of chai, which he sipped. He still remembers the strange taste of the tea, and it wasn't long before his little head swam with the swirls of lights, the thrum of the music, and darkness. As though through water, he could hear muffled screaming, and he felt his body lifted, rushed, and then nothing.
When Raj finally awoke, he lay in a small crate, wet, cold, and alone. He had screamed and cried himself hoarse until eventually falling back into a deep sleep, a combination of fear, exhaustion, and the drug that had been given to him at the party. He would never know what happened that night, to him or his family. The next time he awoke, he was being shaken by an older man he didn't recognize, who was screaming at him in a strange language. His robes were soiled, he was shaky and still somewhat ill, the only thing of any value on him being the strange pendant around his neck. The man who was shaking him tried to reach for the charm and snatch it from the little boy's neck, only to get bitten. Raj screeched in fear and kicked away from the man, taking off running, and it felt like he had been running ever since.
The original plan for the little boy was lost to history; he was supposed to be ransomed, but his loving amah instead had told him to run from the bodyguards who were supposed to protect him. She had fled with the child for as long as she could before finally she was shot from behind, and Raj, scared and alone, had crawled into a shipping container, seeking to hide. The men were traffickers and closed the little boy up with 200 other people set for America. He and the rest were brought into Los Angeles and sold to prospective owners. A young Indian boy with no ability to speak the language and very little memory of who he was or where he came from, he was eventually bought with several others by a vineyard in the Sierra Foothills. It was there he learned English and was named Adryan by one of the older men in charge of the labor force at the winery.
When he was about 10, he was "rescued" when the vineyard was sieged for using illegal labor. Anyone under the age of 18 was taken to group homes and scattered throughout the country, he was a tall and stocky young man with wild eyes and a deep but kind voice and was adopted relatively quickly by a family wanting to bring something more exotic to their family. From them, Adryan learned to read and attended school for a few years, but he wasn't a good fit for the family in the long run. They ultimately abandoned him at an airport while they were on vacation, but didn't get him a ticket. Adryan was returned to the orphanages several times before. Finally, at the age of 15, he said fuck it and left, striking out on his own.
He had nothing to his name and still no memory of who he was or where he had come from, save the pendant that he kept close to him. He had gained some memories of a fire, screams, someone calling for him, gunshots, and someone he thought was named Amah, though he couldn't be sure. He had a few chances to sell the pendant for food money, but he could never bring himself to part with it. It was some kind of locket, but he's never been able to get it open and tends to play with it when he's anxious. The last ten years of his life have been chaotic and unsettled, always running from one place to another, and never finding anywhere to settle.
Tonight, the only thing he knew was that he needed to get away. He skidded to a stop in front of the train tracks as the cars whizzed past him at their top speed and swallowed a lump in his throat. The damn purse hadn't even been worth half of the trouble it caused, and he had thrown it to the side some time ago, but the police and their dog were still chasing him. He cursed under his breath, his long hair blowing around his face as he looked up at the train again. He had once had a chance to grab one of the handles on the side of the train cars; if he missed, he'd be dead before he landed.
Swallowing a gulp of cold air, he jumped and, through some stroke of luck, managed to catch hold of the edge of the cargo boxcar. He didn't think as he vaulted himself forward and ended up falling onto his back with a thud.
"Ow..." He winced and sat up, watching the world fly by him through the open car door, and let out the breath he'd been holding. There had to be more to life than this bullshit.
Tracii and Alana Cont...
Alana sat, listening to everything Tracii told her, and as she heard about all those down there who were hurting, fighting, and being manipulated by those put there to help protect them, she felt a swelling rage in her heart. She knew she couldn't save everyone, but a plan began forming in her mind, a plan to perhaps ease the ache and make life just a little bit better. The New York Government was trying, but without proper funding, good things were hard to achieve, and there was always someone or something standing in the way. Alana knew several upper-class people who were, at the time, helping where they could, but, like her father had told her, 'You can't save everyone, but you can ease their pain with what you have, and it's up to them to ease the rest of the pain.' And looking at Tracii and hearing about Rhia's life, Alana was cooking up a plan to do just that. Not to make it 'attractive' but to make it easier to access proper care, proper parks, and proper education, and to care for those who call it home. As he tried to ease the conversation by making it 'okay' and seeming like it was just life, she moved and curled her hand around his, giving it a squeeze.
"You've done so much and survived so much, you shouldn't have had to do any of that, and I'm so sorry that the world failed you..."
She offered a gentle smile, moved her other hand to brush his hair from his face, and gave him a soft smile. He made her heart skip a beat, and her mind feel like it was in the clouds. Tracii was the most beautiful man she'd ever seen, at least to her.
Alana let the moment linger before she began to move her hand away, not wanting to make him uncomfortable, and sat back.
"Thank you for all this... It... " She stopped and looked around and couldn't help but smile. "It's probably the nicest thing anyone's done for me since I first came here... I'm glad it was you, too."
Tracii shrugged softly. "Honestly...I don't think of it that way. There used to be a guy down there named Joey...some of us were known as Joey's kids. He ran into some trouble a few years ago and disappeared. Really, none of us know exactly what happened to him, but seeing as he's gone, he's probably never coming back." He trailed off for a moment before speaking again.
"We all had something we were good at, caring for those that couldn't care for themselves, the kids that were better as thieves, sleight of hand tricks in downtown, the ones that could knick the priceless items off people on 5th Ave...if you knew how to cook or make something out of nothing, you made yourself useful to the group. The rules were pretty simple...If you found someone hiding, no, you didn't. If someone needs help, you do whatever you can to help them. If they need medical help, take them to Shadow. Keep the girls and younger ones away from Rockefeller and his boys...It's just...life. I was brought to Joey when he was a kid, and then it just carried on from there. I know it sounds like a lot, but it's just how we live."
Was it how they should be living? Hell no. He was 23 years old, he should be going to school, living in an apartment, maybe have a girlfriend and a dog, a job and friends. But instead he was living rough, taking care of people who couldn't take care of themselves and trying to just keep his head above water. As good of a person as Tracii wanted to see himself, he wasn't one of those that was making money doing anything useful. He was a runner for Shadow, but generally he was a thief. At least Erin had some redeeming skills as an artist, there was little Tracii could actually do. He worked at Milly's sometimes...but that wasn't enough...ever. He sighed.
When Alana brushed his hair back he smiled softly, closing his eyes and rested his cheek against her palm, taking a moment to breathe her in. She had a warm, tropical smell to her hair and skin for that matter, and the smell was intoxicating. He liked being around her, close to her. For this moment, he felt somewhat normal, sitting with someone he liked, hanging out in their dorm room and spending time together...This was the first time it was just the two of them and before she moved, he gently lifted his hand, tangling it in her hair softly. He wanted to kiss her more than he should right now.
She pulled back and he let his fingers trail through her endlessly long blonde hair, breathing it in a bit more and sucked on his bottom lip before speaking.
"I guess it shouldn't be a surprise to hear this, but I like you...Alana. When Rhia first mentioned she had a roommate, you were no where near what I had been expecting..." And when Rhiannon had spent so much time talking about her Malibu Barbie-esque roommate he had been expecting someone cruel, beautiful but only on the outside. The stereotypical blonde, spoiled college girl, only there because someone was making her be, not because she had any real education or desire to do so. But Alana was amazing, she had a light, bright, welcoming air about her that he instantly wanted more of. He wanted to know about her life, her family...where she had come from, why she decided NYU of all colleges in the world.
Looking up at her he smiled a little. He needed to talk to her, if he didn't he was going to kiss her. Which wouldn't be entirely a bad thing either. Tracii cleared his throat. "So...you know all about me now, what about you?"
Evelyn and Leiland
Evelyn didn't gloss over the mention of being in prison; she just chose to ignore it. Not because she didn't think he was a danger, but because she learned early on in life to never judge a person by that, you don't know what someone has gone through, and if you judge them by their mistakes, you miss out on good people. She would ask later anyway.
As they walked out, she motioned to the black car waiting for her, gave the driver a slight wave, and looked at Leiland. "I don't normally walk alone at night, but... It's nice out." Evelyn honestly wasn't sure if she was making the right choice by going out at night with a man she had just met and dismissing her driver, who did look a little concerned by that move. Perhaps she had reached a new level of suicidal and just didn't care. It's not like she'd never walked around at night before. Jan, an old friend, used to make her go out at night and do all sorts of random crap.
The thought of Jan made her flinch for a quick second, hoping Leiland hadn't noticed she moved, shifting her bag slightly. "At least it's warm.." She looked around, ignored the shadows moving, and focused back on Leiland. "I'm honestly not a native of New York, and I don't really go out much." She looked down at her feet, the simple ballerina flats making soft scuffing noises, and chuckled, hearing the 'date' spot comment. "So do you take a lot of women to this place then? " This wasn't a date....was it? Did she agree to a date and not know it?
Lei smirked when she said she didn't normally go out alone and looked around him somewhat jokingly. "Oh damn, am I invisible again? You're not really alone.." And he was about 6ft tall, not particularly muscular but if he ever hit someone, they'd feel it. He was always one of those people to let the other person swing first, but he'd get the last one. He watched her wave to the driver and nodded his head to the man who, admittedly, looked a little surprised that she was leave so soon and beside someone.
As they walked he didn't say much, merely watching her. She seemed to be deep in thought or maybe memory about someone or a part of her past life that was pulling her out of this moment with him. He saw her flinch and instinctively wrapped his arm around her, knowing it wasn't from cold but from a memory that had obviously hurt. He didn't press it just yet, if she ever wanted to tell him, she would.
"You okay?" He gently rubbed on her back before offering her his hand as they walked. "Ahh a transplant...where are you from originally?"
He shrugged at her comment and shook his head. "Yes and no...I haven't exactly been on the dating scene for about 11 years, but I used to come here with one of my girlfriends when I was...god..." He stopped walking for a minute, having a brief second where he remembered he was almost 40.
"Probably my early 20s..." He laughed suddenly, shaking his head and started walking again.
Sara and Guy
Sara sat quietly as Guy shifted about her eyes locked on the fire, the voice echoing in her mind and her own heart pounding in her ears. She took a deep breath and finally met Guy's eyes. Those beautiful blue eyes that she both loved and hated connected to a man she both loved and hated at the same time. Hearing Marian, she frowned and shook her head. "She should learn to stay out of things, Robin and I have everything taken care of..."
Shaking her head, she shifted her sword and moved it next to her, and just kept her eyes on the fire as she tried to gain her thoughts. This man meant business, and if he was who Sara thought he was, this was worse than anyone imagined. Hearing Guy's question, she looked up at him, but the words wouldn't come; she instead shook her head 'no'. She even refused to believe what she heard and saw, how could it even be possible... he couldn't still be alive, this was hundreds of years away from when they'd first met, and he's not immortal..... is he? "Robin and I can handle whatever the Sheriff throws at us, we'll have that man running away with his tail tucked between his legs soon enough.." But her voice did not convey any confidence in that statement.
If the stranger was who Sara thought he was and if it was possible for him to even still be alive, Robin and those she held dearest to her were in danger. He'd already stolen two people she loved from her before, and she feared for Guy's safety, which meant meetings like this were going to have to stop. Taking a deep breath, she got to her feet and moved down to the water's edge and looked up at the moon. Her body was trembling, but she tried to assure herself that it was internal and Guy really couldn't hear her knees knocking together. The man whom Sara thought it was was the only person she'd met so far that could bring real fear to her; the violence she endured from him had changed who she was. "It's not possible.." She whispered to the air but she didn't have any confidence in that statement at all.
Guy scoffed as he finally settled in front of the fire and shook his head. "If you honestly think Marian can ever leave anything alone, you don't know her well enough. As clever as she is, I sometimes think she won't be happy unless she's strung up like everyone else." It was harsh but he had tried several times to warn Marian not to play at being a hero and leave it to others, try to keep her head down and her eyes to the ground. She loved Robin and would follow him into the fire if she thought she could get away with it. And Guy had always been trying to clean up her messes, teasing at her, trying to get her to admit who she was and what she was faking at being. It wasn't his game anymore, he had someone else he wanted to protect now and she was even more of a wildcard than Marian ever was.
He sighed, hearing the cocky tone to her voice when she spoke about being able to handle whatever the Inquisitioner had to throw at them. "The Sheriff calls him the Inquisitioner...some of the other guards call him the Executioner. He's..." He pinched the bridge of his nose and pushed his hair back from his face, watching the fire flicker in front of them and not at her for a long time.
"Sara..." The words died on his tongue for a moment as he tried to find the right way to describe what Roan had done to one of the local thieves who dared to be wearing the little carved Robin Hood pendant. He swallowed again before he spoke. "I'm sure by now Locksley has gotten word of what happened to Gabriel Danes?" He licked his lips and they were dry. "The boy was wearing one of those carved pendants that comes in with your feed bags, the 'we are Robin Hood' things...you should stop sending those for a while. He was wearing it, swinging a wooden staff around. He threatened Roan and his men..." Guy took a breath but couldn't find the words for it. The boy had been strung up by his wrists across a wooden block in the center of town, his back was cut, slit from the top of his neck down to the base of his spine and he had his skin peeled back and away from his bones. It was the most horrific thing Guy had ever seen. The boy was left like that, for everyone to see with the words "Robin Hood will die" painted in his blood on a stone above the display. Guy only shook his head and looked over at where Sara was bunched up near the fire and for the first time he realized that she looked scared. He moved over to sit beside her and lightly reached a hand out to touch her.
As he reached out his hand, wrapping it around her shoulder, he pulled her close to him. His words came low and slow. "You know him...don't you?"
Jory and Scott
Jory was a little distracted; she didn't mean to be, but she didn't realize how coming back to the city, let alone the place she spent much of her life in, would affect her. Perhaps she wasn't as 'healed' as she once thought she was. Looking up at Scott as he seemed to be enjoying himself, she picked the cherry out of the Coke and popped it into her mouth, pulling the stem off of it and setting it on the napkin. Four cherries have always been in her Coke since she was a little girl. "I'm alright, it just feels....surreal to be back in this place after being gone for so long." Her mother, herself, and she'd brought Scott Christopher here many a time to eat, her mother mostly just left her alone while she 'worked,' but Milly was always there to look after her. Jory thought of Milly as a 'surrogate' mother for many years. "I used to work here too, when I was about 15, Milly had been washing dishes and running coffee until I was able to hold a full serving tray, then it was bussing and serving. Even worked here my first couple of semesters of College before... I left. " Yeah, Jory had been enrolled in Community College when she'd met Scott Christopher, but because of that whole situation, she had been forced to abandon everything and while you would think she was worried about seeing Scott C or Jeremy again she really wasn't... she was worried about seeing someone else, someone she hadn't spoken to since she left and honestly missed, she wasn't much but she was the only Mother Jory had, and she was worried about letting Scott meet her. Milly must have heard her thoughts as well, as she came and set the food down, knowing that Jory wanted a Double Cheeseburger with everything and Onion Rings, and what Scott had been eyeing on the menu, and looked at Jory, and all she said was: "Haven't seen anyone familiar, Sugar, enjoy your food." And with that, she was off back towards the counter, kissing the cheek of a little girl sitting at the counter, coloring. Jory was both relieved and worried by that statement, but turned her attention to her cheeseburger. "God, I've been dreaming about this..." She knew a Strawberry Milkshake was also on its way, and that made the worry go away just a little bit. "How's yours?" She reached over, offering some onion rings to Scott, just happy he had an appetite today, and offering him a loving smile.
Scott had become a master at studying people's faces, mannerisms, and movements over the years. When you are one of those people who claim to "hate" people, you have to have something to back it up with, and more often than not, he likens it to pattern recognition in the people he hates. He can read a person sometimes better than they would like. Jory was always an enigma to him; she was so happy all the time that he wondered whether that was really who she was or if it was something she used to shield herself from the rest of the world. He wore armor; he always figured she did too. Didn't everyone?
As they were sitting in the booth, he was watching her, how she moved, how she spoke, how she seemed distracted and antsy at the same time. There was an obvious reason for it, or at least one he assumed was obvious. She was told by the friend of her last Scott that if she returned to NYC, he'd know and he'd "deal" with her, whatever that meant. Was she wary because of that or something else? When he really stopped to think about it, he realized he didn't know much about her personal life; she'd always told him her mother was dead, and there was nothing left for her. But other than that...he knew nothing really.
"I can only imagine...I'd probably feel like that too. There's a thrum in this city too, different from the one St. Louis has." Something older, more alive. It is the city that never sleeps, after all. He smiled softly, imagining her as a waitress here, and it made him wish he'd met her before this.
"I bet you were good at it, you've got the kind of personality that makes people want to talk to you." A quick smile and he's putty in her hands. It's why he was sitting here with her now, in this city, in this state of mind. It wasn't to say he was perfect; he still had dark days, but they were fewer in between. Hearing Milly, Scott cocked his head to the side before pulling his plate a little closer to him. His eyes fell on the double cheeseburger, made the same way as Jory's, with one exception: he wasn't a pickle guy. Despite not telling Milly that, she didn't have any on his burger, but there were extras on Jory's. Had he asked? He honestly didn't remember. He chose to ignore it, reaching forward to take the offered onion ring and smiling after popping it into his mouth. The batter was crispy, and the onion was surprisingly sweet and still somehow fresh-tasting, not slimy like some were. After chewing, he took a drink of his soda to wash it down and looked up at her, nodding softly.
"So...what were you in school for? Do you think you'd ever go back?" She'd spent so much time supporting him, he'd be more than willing to do the same for her if she wanted to go back. Surely there was something she enjoyed doing.
Rick Flag - Colonel Rick Flag sat down in my head following seeing that atrocious Suicide Squad sequel and basically said ‘it’s a bitch when your heart stops and starts again, Malone wanna get me out of here?’ So apparently he’s been working with Justice undercover for a while now, even going so far as to have microbot trackers in his blood stream which are connected to Section 1 and directly to Avery. Following Waller trying to have him killed, he turns her over directly to Section, giving Justice the rest of the info on the prison, the meta-humans and begins forming a squad to go rescue Harley from wherever she’s wound up being held. Following the events in Midway City from the first film, Dr. June Monroe was unfortunately a casualty of the horrific things she not only did but was subjected to and Rick somehow or another sought out comfort with the unlikely Harley Quinn. Waller found out the two were sleeping together which is why they were put on the Suicide Squad.
Abraham Jarl Horn - Swedish kickboxer and MMA fighter. He’s one of Jasper’s more reviled opponents, and like Jaz, Jarl has a reputation of never backing down. He’s the opponent for the New Orleans fight. While he did grow up in Norway/Finland, he’s currently living in Ontario, Canada and is in the US on a visa after being signed by a high profile gym. He has a girlfriend whom he adores, despite most people not seeming to believe that they are really together, she’s not the type most people assume he should be with. Harmony calls him Rama, rather than Jarl or sometimes in addition to it. He’s also a painter and a bit of a gamer, having a troll monk he’s not played since Draenor, but it’s still there.
John Knox - Lorelei’s twin brother, John is 26 and typically plays guitar and sings backup, though he has written a few songs and sings a few on the album himself. John has Type 2 diabetes he didn’t know he had until he attempted to join the army after graduating high school at 18. While he was going through boot camp he collapsed and when he came back around again he was hooked up to an IV fluid drip and the doctor on site asked him why he didn’t mention it on his intake forms. Since he had no idea, his parents came to get him from Fort Benning. It was about six months later that Lori called their parents about her ex-husband and Levi’s father, beating her. He and his uncles went out to Las Vegas to deal with that problem and bring Lori home.
Raine Lennox - I don’t know much about him just yet but what I do know is he’s a Philosophy professor at the University of Chicago.
Found Rama! His real name is Abraham
whoever delivered these photos to us, u will have my love forever. i hope that tonight, when u go to sleep, your pillow is soft and cold, and that u have the best sleep of your life.
I don't think I've ever wanted a man to stick his tongue down my throat THIS bad.
I’m thinking Roxie might be getting an update
Tracii & Alana cont.
Alana:
Alana had started to relax talking to Tracii, he could just talk and she'd spend every waking moment listening to him, his voice was like a warm sunset to her ears. She listened to him talk about the people he knew, his relationship to Rhi, and about Alphabet City and the peple down there. It was when he asked her about herself, and then mentioned the Royal Family that she forgot how to speak for a few minutes, she cleared her throat and tried to organize her thoughts before she started to cry. "Hawaii is.... beautiful" She sucked in some air. "About 50 years ago the first new king of Hawaii started a movement to liberate Hawaii and all her people from the United States and to take back what colonization had taken, he saw that if no one stopped what was happening not even Native Hawiians would be able to afford living on their own land." She took a minute to gather her thoughts before she continued. "So he liberated Hawaii and because he was related to the last real Queen of Hawaii Queen Lili'uokalani the people decided to elect him 'King' and then he created the current government where the Prime Minister is elected as well as other officials but the King has soverign say so.." Taking a drink of her soda and leaned back the food was gone now and it was so good but she felt.. good talking about home, but was being careful to not reveal to much. "So he ruled, for 30 years until he died and passed it to his son, who then named his son. (Her father) The current King...or...well...." That stung to even say and she couldn't help the tears that began to fall.. "They just... murdered him.." Alana began to sob into her hands unable to really stop herself, she missed her father and her heart was breaking being so far away from her home. She was so scared and felt alone.. talking about home was breaking her heart.
Tracii had been watching as Alana seemed to get so animated and excited talking about home and the history of how they now had a royal family again. He had heard about what happened to the King from the various newspapers and magazines that stacked some of the outdoor stands. If he was working out with some of the kids or otherwise uptown, he would try to read a little, try to keep up with the news of the world. It was hard enough to live the way he did; he didn't want to be caught completely unawares when it came to certain things. He had seen some people who read about the attack on the coronation and watched how it affected them. Still, nothing could have prepared him for Alana suddenly falling into herself, sobbing uncontrollably. That's not usually the reaction strangers have to something like that happening, even the most empathetic person doesn't shatter like so much broken glass. Unless...
He pursed his lips together, not wanting to make an out-of-pocket comment, but there was something that was stabbing at him now. The princess had gone missing. Her nephew had been stashed away by the royal family, and the Queen had been ushered out of the area as well, but the princess was just...gone. With the King and her brother both gone from this world, she would become the new crowned princess of Hawaii. And there was a huge possibility that the young woman who was crying in front of him was the very one everyone was looking for.
Without thinking, Tracii sat up on his knees and wrapped his arms around her, holding Alana tightly to him, gently rubbing her back to comfort her. "Shhh shh...it's alright..." His voice was satiny soft, and he lay his chin down on the top of her head, breathing her in for a moment. Cradling her in his arms, he carefully moved a little closer to her.
"I'm so sorry for your loss..." He was treading carefully into the territory now. He didn't know for sure that she was the Princess, but there was a pretty good chance, and he couldn't imagine what it must be like having gone through something so horrific and not even being able to be with her mother, little nephew, or anyone else. She was secreted away into a foreign country, essentially. And unable to tell anyone...Technically, she didn't break any rule either, if it was her. She didn't tell him; he figured it out.
"I'm here."
Alana forgot for a moment that she hadn't spent a lot of time with Tracii and knew nothing about him, but fell into his warm arms, her face buried into his broad chest. No one really spoke of home around her, Rhia didn't seem to care and made it a point to avoid Alana which felt so lonely, telling Tracii about the men she called Father and Brother felt good but not breaking the promise she made to Gabriel and her mother about keeping herself a secret. She laid into him and just let herself be held until she heard him say 'Sorry for your loss.' Alana stiffened a little bit and pushed back from him, wiping her eyes and sucked in some deep breaths. "It is a tremendous loss for all of Hawaii. It leaves the people unsure of what's going to happen; they fear being colonized again. Which is why the King and Crown Prince was assassinated." Alana moved back from Tracii's arms and stood up, walking over to her vanity and wiping her face a little bit. "it's a bit difficult loosing the hope of a nation.." Those words felt like lumps in Alana's throat, talking about her favorite person in the whole world like he was just some..'monarch' Finding her strength again, Alana rejoined Tracii and sat back down, pulling her legs into a sitting cross-legged next to him. "Thank you for coming here with food.. It's been nice to be around people again. I.. don't really have any friends here.." She looked up at Tracii's warm eyes and attempted a smile but it didn't really reach her eyes and was half-hearted. "I've just felt so isolated since coming here. I thought college was supposed to be one of the biggest times of your life." She retook a drink of her soda and looked at him. "Tell me about your family... I don't care which ones... just.. talk to me." She needed a distraction and to divert the conversation before she poured her heart out to this man, for some reason she really really wanted to.
As she fell into him, Tracii gathered Alana up in his arms and held her tightly, letting her feel whatever pain she was experiencing at that moment, wanting nothing more than to tell her it was okay; she was safe in this moment. There was something in her words and how she spoke about the King and his son who had died that had made him think that maybe there was more to it than she was saying, or perhaps she wasn't allowed to talk about it. He could understand the need for fear and care for being discovered. Not so much from a personal place, but just from the people he'd met over the years. When Alana unwound herself from his arms and moved away, he nodded to no one in particular.
"I'm sure...I honestly didn't know that Hawaii was its own country until that had happened." Everything had stopped at Milly's Diner as the old TV in the corner had flickered and the newscaster had started talking about the assassination and what it was going to mean for the people of the five-island country. He lay his head back and rolled it from one side to the other, following her movements about to get up and join her by the window, before she came back and sat back down again.
"You're welcome...Rhia has actually been talking about you lately, and after meeting you that first time...I wanted to get to know you a bit better." Rhianna was under a lot of pressure, and he could understand her apprehension; she was the first and would probably be the only member of her family to attend college, plus she worked most nights and had to keep Stansfield from sniffing around her family... and Rockefeller, too, for that matter. It was hard on her, and she often took it out on anyone who fit the mold of people who looked down on her and made her life more difficult. It wasn't an excuse, and she shouldn't have been treating Alana like that, as Rhia's mother reminded her at great length, which was one of the reasons Tracii had wanted to see what all the hubbub was about. They had dated, but they were better friends than anything else. Tracii had been the first to claim responsibility when Rhia got pregnant, though everyone, her mother included, knew he had nothing to do with it. The two had never even slept together, but it was better than admitting the alternative.
"Rhia should be a better friend, honestly...she's just under a lot of stress from all sides, but I could introduce you to a few people, if you wanted. I know half of Alphabet City." ...And Suki would love her. He smiled at the thought, though it faded in an instant for the exact same reason. Suki and her girls were homeless streetwalkers who worked for Rockefeller, but she had dreams of being swept away by a prince and taken far from her own terrible life. To some degree, Tracii used to have the same type of hope that he would turn out to be long-lost royalty, found and taken away from the life he was living. It never happened, never would happen, and eventually, everyone who lived rough like they did finally accepted it. Hearing her question, he leaned forward and took up his root beer again, taking a drink and shaking it slightly to get the ice to fall back down into the cup.
"Um...not much to tell. I had a brother...Once I thought, but he left me when I was much younger and never came back. I...uh...live rough." He squinted, only half sure she was going to know what that meant. "Right now I'm couch surfing a bit" with those who have couches, "but I spend a lot of time with another couple of guys, Shadow, Phyre, and Erin." He shook his head. "Shadow used to be in pharmaceuticals but now makes back-alley remedies for people who can't afford the store-bought stuff. He's got a whole chemical lab but he moves it around a lot, if you need something, anything, he's your guy. Phyre is...well...." Phyre Reigns was a lot of things; currently, he was a drug dealer. "They're dangerous to the people that aren't their friends, let's just put it that way."
"Erin is an artist, but he's been down here longer than I have and lives in an old car deep down into Alphabet City. He's usually out tagging the streets, or I think he and Caps are working on the mural at Milly's." He paused and looked at her, frowning. "Caps is a girl...she's a tagger too, but typically deals in a little more sleight of hand. Most of us use different names than the ones we were born with... One thing about A-City, if you want to disappear, you can easily enough. No one would ever find you. Especially if you know the right people."
Tracii fell silent for a moment, realizing he probably lost her somewhere; there were a lot of names in a short period of time and none of them really told her anything. "Is this what you want to know...?"
Alana liked listening to Tracii talk, there was something in his voice that she found soothing, and this was the first time anyone really wanted to talk to her and just her alone. Alana had felt so isolated when she'd left home after everything, it was nice to just talk to someone. She listened intently, making herself calm down, she didn't want to give anything away, and Gabriel would scold her if she let anything slip, call her reckless and irresponsible for not taking this more seriously. But she did take it seriously, she took all of this far to seriously. "So... you all just live down there? Suriving? Is there any help at all? Programs? Housing?" She took a sip of her soda and just sat with her legs pulled up to her chest listening. Watching his eyes. "Rhia talks about it quite a bit to her other friends when they are around. Her brother especially, and how his wheelchair is fallinga part?" She was honestly milking Tracii for information, she'd already had her manservant place find a better one, she was just waiting for the moment to send it, not wanting to alert Rhia to whats going on. "So... you dont know where your mother and father are? Do you know anything about them?" Alana wanted to know all about Tracii, just to listen to him talk.
Tracii couldn't help but laugh when Alana bombarded him with all the questions and leaned forward, picking up what was left of his soda, taking a drink, and running his hand through his hair, pulling it back from his face, not that it did much good and flopped right back where it was again. At least his hair was clean for the first time in a while. His 'couch surfing' had landed him at Milly's a few nights ago, where he'd gotten a shower and a chance to wash his clothes, which was a rare commodity living the way he did. He was trying to get his words into something cohesive before speaking again.
"I'm honestly not sure where I came from originally...My brother was there one day, and then the next, he was gone. The general consensus is human trafficking, that's how most of us get down there." Suki and most of Rockefeller's girls came that way; some were runaways, lost children, forgotten kids from one thing or another...Tracii frowned softly, remembering the newest one. "Some towncar came down to Ave F the other day, dropped off a 2-year-old girl in a gingham dress, a loaded diaper, and a stuffed bunny. A woman just left this kid standing there, sucking her thumb. It's horrifying to say to anyone else, but for us, it's just another Thursday. Joey took the baby up to Milly's, that's where some of the littler ones go. Milly'll sometimes take them up to a group home in Greenwich Village, but sometimes they come right back down to us again."
He sighed softly. "There's not a lot of care for people down here, there's some shelters and stuff, but they charge you to stay, which...ya know if I had the money I wouldn't be homeless, right?" He shrugged, shaking his head. "We got a playground that's a drug den, broken pipes, needles, etc., everywhere...the soup kitchen isn't too bad, but it's not too great either. There are some places that'll let you work for food, which is always awesome. Rising Sun is one of those...you can go wash dishes or something, and they let you get whatever you want from the menu. But that's Jeremiah...."
"Rhi's family life is a mess...her brother has cerebral palsy, and Shadow did the best he could with his resources, whatever those are exactly, to get them a chair, but if it's not that damn thing breaking down, it's the elevator in the building not working. Her mom is a nurse and works as much as she can to take care of her kids. Rhi's oldest, younger sister is the glorified babysitter when they get home from school, she takes care of everything. Which is one of the reasons Rhi is up here, but...ya know, she acts like she could be doing literally anything else...." He trailed off, realizing he'd offered a little bit too much about Rhianna and her family. Rhi's problem was that she got a scholarship and could follow her dreams, but she feels obligated to take care of her family since her dad was a deadbeat who left after her mother knocked his head in with a frying pan for beating her littlest brother.
After a moment to let the words hang there, he smiled again and looked up at her. "I make it sound terrible, and I'm not saying it's the best, but it's our life, ya know? We carry on perpetually...when no one takes care of your community, you make one of your own and take care of each other. Oh, people have tried to come down there and change things... the gentrifying... thing, but it never takes. And wherever it does, they just push us all further down into the Narrows cause it's not about trying to help the people who live there, it ends up being some refresher project to bring in the college students who want to live like the poor but not actually."
Evelyn slipped quietly down into the back of the dimly lit lecture hall of NYU. Only three other students sat in various places around the room as she began to unload the brown wicker Marc Jacobs tote bag. The words on the side blazing TOTE BAG was probably the stupidest thing Evelyn had ever seen but she liked it nonetheless and used it for her school stuff.
Opening up the silver shelled macbook, the screen lit up to reveal a dark green and blue tinted forest scene, the moss clinging to branches of the bare trees. It was one of her favorite backgrounds, moody and dark like her. She brushed a stray strand of dark honey colored hair from her pale face and took a deep calming breath, it was hard to not see the Shadows in the corner, the darkness creeping in, the dead faces peering at her from them. She moved taking a pill bottle out of her bag taking one of the translucent red pills out and taking it with water, in a few minutes that darkness would be gone and so would the faces, at least for a little bit. Evelyn Monroe, 29 years old, was starting over again, having just been released for the third time for treatment of delusions and schizophrenia. The pills were a new experimental drug by a new company that had considerable promise. So far, they were working, but not great. She still wasn't sleeping well, but they were helping to decrease the shadows and the voices that felt like she was being rushed by a tidal wave. She was also one of the wealthiest women in the world, inheriting not one, not two, but 6 fortunes. Both her parents, her brother, her sister, and an Uncle, all of whom perished in a plane crash in the Swiss Alps, and Albert Watson, a popular Historian and researcher who had built his own fortune. He was murdered by someone, and Evelyn still didn't know who. She was also called a Black Widow; each of her lovers has disappeared or perished in some tragic manner, all starting with Lynston Mancuso, her first Husband, a tragic artist who took his own life in Watson Manor.
While she wished she was back being a young student like she had when she first moved to New York at 18 she was instead doing a favor for the sitting Professor who was out after having a mass removed from his Spine, an old colleague of Alberts who trusted Evelyn to make sure his TA was doing a good job in his stead. It was the first night of classes, so there were still 4 months left. But it got her out of the house, and honestly, she loved to learn, and Art History was one of her favorites. Afterwards, she would go home to the big dark townhome on the Upper East Side and attempt to have dinner and sleep, but she would more than likely pass out without eating and wake up sick again. It was an endless cycle. At times, Evelyn barely felt connected to her body. This was her state of being since everything fell apart 10 years ago. She just wanted to enjoy herself, even for a moment. She just wanted some peace. Her eyes shifted to the doors as people started to file in, some whispering because she wasn't as anonymous as she had hoped. But she was sitting far enough away that she would try to ignore them.
To say Leiland Cortland was a mess would be to leave out so many details of the man's life. He was 42 years old and had been out of prison for only two months after serving 15 years of a potential life sentence. Lucky for him, his sentence had been commuted once someone had the decency to actually look at what he had been trying to do when he had held up the First National Bank of New York and stolen only one safety deposit box with an air-soft gun. At the time of his trial, he had been 27 years old, all alcohol and belligerent anger directed at his younger brother, father, and anyone else who got in his way. The truth was simple: Leiland had been named the sole heir to the Cortland Family Watches fortune, after their grandfather, with whom he shared a namesake, had passed away in his sleep. Leiland was going nowhere in his family. He refused to go to college. According to his father, he was squandering his trust fund on anything that moved faster than he did: women, drugs, cars...whatever.
He was bored most of the time, the women meant nothing, but the cars weren't his; they were his brother Wesley's obsession. When he had found out that their grandfather had died, Leiland had been heart sick and then immediately sent into a whirlwind because all anyone cared about was who was going to get what. Where was the money going to go? Who was getting the company? What would happen to X, Y, & Z that had to do with the Cortland fortunes? There were houses worldwide, and there was the watch empire, which the Cortland name had a monopoly on, and nothing could rival it. Everyone was scrambling for the will, and when no one could find it, they just decided where things were going without actually waiting for anyone to step forward.
Leiland knew where the will was, but when his father cut him off, he also made it nearly impossible for him to access the bank where it was kept. That was why he held up the bank. He was trying...and ultimately succeeded in getting the box he needed. It wasn't listed as being owned by a Cortland and that was because of his grandfather...they had worked it out together, because Cortland senior knew his son was useless, his youngest grandson was going to be just as much of a waste of space, he wanted his eldest, his favorite to take the company and run it the way it should have been from the start. Leiland had plans; he had things he would do and places he would go. He just had to get there...yes, he was a mess right then, but he was a 27-year-old rich kid with a trust fund and was not a care in the world at the time. When the world crashed, he went with it, screaming obscenities along the way.
That was 15 years ago, and he had served his time. While incarcerated, Leiland had done what he should have done in the first place. He got sober first of all, no more alcohol, though he still smoked when he could get the cigarettes, and when he couldn't, he dealt with it, usually by getting gum from one of the guards. He made friends with a few of them, and after he'd calmed down, they realized this wasn't some hardened criminal. He spent a lot of time working in the prison library, reading whatever he could get his hands on and attempting to avoid any of the bullshit going on around him. He never understood the politics of the prison and never became someone's follower, he was no one's bitch and never would be, despite appearances. Lei was a tall, lanky boy who grew into a tall, lanky man with grayish blue eyes and dark brown, almost black hair. He had long, piano players' hands and a penchant for classic rock music, which he found he was "allowed" to listen to when he worked with one of the other inmates in the library. He eventually saved up enough "good boy points" to be given access to the computers and was allowed to start an online college program in art and architecture. Around the sixth year of his sentence, he attended an online graduation for the same program, receiving his Bachelor of Science degree from the Boston Architectural College. Not bad for the family fuck up, right?
While working towards his degree with a life sentence, there was not much hope of him ever actually using it in the real world. Leiland also contacted any lawyer who would give his story the time of day. It had just so happened that he managed to accidentally get in touch with one of the toughest district attorneys in all of New York City, one Craig Saunders. Saunders spent three years gathering all of the testimonies, the stories, the past indiscretions, and the absolute truth of what had happened when Leiland was arrested, and after a very lengthy trial, Leiland was finally able to walk out of the courthouse jangling a mysterious key around on an antique ZZ Top keychain, shaking hands with his lawyer and walking away, free as a bird. The DA had discovered that the "gun" used was an air-soft gun, the man who was supposed to have been shot with it had taken a pay off from one Arnold Cortland, Leiland's father, to throw his eldest, worthless son into jail since he refused to give up whatever he was really trying to do in the bank. The only thing left to do now was wrest control of Cortland Watches from the hapless Westley. Or so had been the plan initially. Ultimately, Leiland had given up on that for the time being; he was more interested in finding an apartment and a job. And besides, Cortland Watches was now a subsidiary of Rolex, and Westley was slowly running it into the ground. The company wasn't worth anything anymore. And as sad as that made him, Leiland didn't care enough about his brother to try to save him.
Unfortunately, his record was still hanging over his head, and few respectable firms wanted to hire someone who received their degree in prison for armed robbery, whether it was commuted or not. Two days after being released, Leiland had returned to one of his old haunts and was pleasantly surprised to find that his former girlfriend had kept that damned safety deposit box after all these years. She had never been able to open the damn thing, and no one ever came looking for it but she hadn't had it in her to get rid of it either. She was married with three kids living in Greenwich Village, yet her husband was cool enough to let her gangly ex sleep in his basement. Her husband, Robert, seemed pretty okay with the whole thing. Their youngest daughter had been determined to make Leiland sleep with one of her stuffed animals, which he never did, but he took it into the basement with him and would sit on the air mattress they put out for him whenever he left in the morning to give her the illusion that he had. He needed something snuggly. She was three, and it was cute. Lei only stayed with them for about a month while he got his feet on the ground, and with Robert's help, he was able to find the apartment he had now, along with a job at an architectural firm. Unfortunately, he wasn't an architect here, but he had at least his foot in the door. Before getting a real job, he had to take a few updated classes in diagramming, which had changed a bit since he had taken his initial courses.
And all of that was why he was now sitting in this Art History class at NYU. In order to get to the classes he needed, there were a handful of other refreshers he was going to have to take, drawing I & II for starters, and a few electives to pass the time. The one he was looking forward to had been this one, though he had been hoping it was going to be with an actual professor and not with a TA half his age. Leiland wrinkled his nose as he got settled into the seat in front of a young woman with auburn hair and a look in her eyes that almost screamed that she would like to be anywhere other than where she was. He was instantly drawn to her, though he couldn't quite figure out why...he'd like to say it was because he was lonely. After all, he'd been without physical contact for 15 years but if that was the case he could have had any number of the other women he'd encountered today either for the night or...in the case of one of them, she struck him as more of a "by the hour" kind of girl.
He pushed the thought out of his head as he sat down and took a notebook and a rolled leather case with his pens from an old-looking Jansport backpack. The bag looked like it was almost as old as he was, and judging by the Goodwill he bought it at, that might be the case. He was wearing jeans and an old Static shirt, one of his from high school, so it was a genuine vintage. Leiland turned to say something to Evelyn, and before he could stop himself, his eyes fell on the bag beside her.
"So...are the words ironic, or is that so you remember what it is?" Seriously, a tote bag called TOTE BAG? Fashion always confused the fuck out of him, even when he was younger. Correcting himself, he held a hand up to her, his watch falling slightly to one side, the only real Cortland watch left from what he knew. "Sorry...I'm Leiland, and you are....?"
Evie was in her own world and didn't notice the man sitting down in front of her. One of the side effects of the new medication was that it set her into an almost zombie-like state. Depersonalization and derealization would hit her, and she wouldn't notice much of her surroundings. But that was really the point: to get her to not focus on the voices or who she thought were ghosts around her. The worst thing was that they almost made her unaware of a lot of other things. She was staring at her blank notebook when the voice broke the spell she jumped almost startled and her pen slipped out of her hand and slapped the man in front of her on the cheek she blinked coming back to reality and was immediately flustered. "Oh god, I am so sorry... I..." She moved to grab the pen, but instead, her notebook slipped off the small desk and slapped him on the face as well. Luckily, she caught her MacBook before it, too, fell. She slammed it shut and scrambled for her things. "I am so sorry.. I.." She couldn't finish her sentence, yes, everyone knew who she was, but after the media had reported you being on your THIRD visit to a mental health treatment center, you gained a reputation so people tended to avoid her. "I..." She just stopped talking completely embarrassed and almost debated grabbing her things and darting out of the room feeling like all eyes were now on her.
Alright, so he wasn't expecting to get slapped. He frowned and leaned back, only for her pencil to roll off and the notebook to slip off and hit him, too. Lei couldn't help it; he laughed. Nothing in what he had said or done was supposed to come off as aggressive, but he was also aware that he was a tall man, with big hands and dark eyes, and might have come across as somewhat threatening. Even if he hadn't meant to.
After a moment, he leaned forward and picked up the fallen pencil and notebook, setting them carefully back in front of Evelyn. He wasn't angry, if anything, maybe a little confused, and actually more worried that he somehow offended her.
"I didn't think the crack about your bag was THAT bad." Lei chuckled again and started to say something else when he heard one of the other girls make a sound he could only describe as the twitter of some obnoxious bird. He rolled his eyes. He knew that one from another class and made the quick association that the only way she would graduate was if she could find some way to fuck the professor. Looking away from her, he turned all his attention back to Evie.
"I'm sorry if I scared you....are you alright?"
Evelyn was about ready to grab her things and make for the door. She'd just tell Dr. Philips that she missed a day because she was busy that night, but more and more people were beginning to trickle in, and she knew it would look strange if she just left. It was his laughter. His eyes lit up, and he made a joke out of it. She couldn't help it; she laughed, too, and began to replace her things on her desk. "I am so sorry. I was deep in thought, and it was so quiet..." She moved and finally settled again, getting a good look at him. It was not what she expected to see from his voice. Evelyn actually smiled at him and settled back, looking down at her back. He pointed out and held it up a little bit. "I think it's meant ironically, or some people are just two ears and a head with nothing between, so maybe they wanted to make sure they knew what it was." She actually cracked a bit of a joke, but there was something in his eyes. It was warm, almost safe, and that was the first time in so many years that Evelyn had even said more than a few words to someone she didn't work with. "I really am so sorry. How's your head?" She leaned forward to examine him. "No blood. I think you're going to live." She gave a gentle laugh and settled back. But still looking at him, most people turned around and went back to their own worlds. Human interaction was rare for Evelyn unless they wanted something from her. Her head was aching from the medication she had to take, but she had three hours, so it was best to just trek through.
Leiland watched as the young woman relaxed a little and nodded his head. "Believe me, I've been hit much harder over the years, it's fine." He chuckled again and looked over her as she started putting her stuff back out on the desk again and reached forward, catching one of the pens before it rolled off the table, setting it back next to her bag again, somewhat absently wondering if these tables were level and making a note to check it later. It wasn't his job, but if he were sitting here all year, he didn't want to play the 'here's your pen back' game the whole time. Looking at her again, he smirked to himself. Maybe he did want to play that, if it was with her.
The doe eyes were disarming for all their sweetness, and she looked lost and flustered. Hearing her joke about the bag, he laughed again, lightheartedly. "I've seen those bags a few times, most of the people that have them tend to wear glittery yoga pants with the word "juicy" on their butts." He'd only been out of prison for a few months and he'd seen more 'juicy' asses in Times Square than you could want in a life time. Usually, on tourists, and almost always, they had big TOTE BAGs with tiny dogs in them. It was...odd.
Leiland let the air sit for a moment before he held his hand out to her. "My name's Leiland...and you are?" It had been a long time since he had been in the world. He didn't remember many of the high society people, and honestly, he never really rubbed elbows with them anyway. A snicker from the peanut gallery beneath them and some whispers made him frown.
"That group seems to think I should just -know- who you are..." He didn't like to tell people who he was completely, anyone who heard the name Cortland now seemed to have one of two ideas go through their head, 'ahh, the criminal' or 'ahh, the sellout.' Either way, it wasn't a conversation he liked to start with.
Evelyn's honey colored eyes shifted to the group of students stealing looks at her, she knew what they must be thinking 'There is the next victim.' Evelyn had accidentally gotten the reputation for being a 'black widow', every lover she's had these past years has either killed himself, got murdered or vanished entirely. But what they never saw was her grief, pain and fear.
There were a number of things they could be whispering about, Evelyn tried to convince herself she was being paranoid, like her Therapist tells her. She's just another 'cog' in the wheel of life.
Evelyn had just taken a sip of her Pepsi to help bring her senses back around when she caught the comment about 'Juicy' butts and nearly spat her drink out instead she covered her mouth and giggled slightly before reaching towards Leilands hand. "Leiland, that is a name you dont hear often anymore.." She slipped her long slender hand into his large warm one, her nails were done in a soft pale, pink rose. No visible rings on her fingers and no real jewelry either.. "Evelyn" she whispered her name slightly and when he mentioned the group her eyes shifted to them again frowning. "They only know what they read or hear..." She hadn't meant to say that and hoped Leiland hadn't either. She honestly didn't want to answer questions, her head was already hurting and she was hungry and just now realized she forgot to eat all day....again. Evelyn also observed he was a little older than most of the students but everyone was bettering themselves so age wasn't really a factor in anything anymore. "So are you taking this class for your major or an elective?" She was really trying to ignore the whispers but she could feel her paranoia start to build and her anxiety began to rise with it.
As Evelyn took his hand, he immediately noticed how soft her hands were and how well done they were. Everything seemed to be in its place, though he did take note of the lack of rings of any kind. Not everyone wore jewelry, he knew that, but he would have expected someone her age and obviously beautiful would have been married or at least engaged. Hearing the twittering behind them continue, he rolled his eyes, somewhat annoyed by whatever they thought he should just know.
"You don't hear a lot of Evelyns anymore either..." The last Evelyn he knew was a stripper in California who went by Eve most days, but he didn't mention that to her right at this moment. Hearing her following comment, he raised an eyebrow and watched her as she seemed to wobble a little unsteadily. It was the briefest of things when she had done it, he wondered if she had meant to or if it was from some outside stress.
"In my experience, even if they had the chance to know the truth, they wouldn't take it and just keep making their own idiotic comments. It's best to ignore them; they don't matter anyway."
He offered her a soft smile. "Major...kind of. I need a few extra classes to even out my degree. Some things have changed since I got my degree. To graduate, I've got to fill in the blanks. I always loved Art History, so figured it would be the best to meet the requirement for right now." He tilted his head slightly and looked over all of her stuff, letting go of her hand after giving it a firm squeeze. "What about you? Student or...?" With all of her extras, she might be an aid, but he had assumed that the student aids stuck closer to the front of the class, not the back of it.
Lei was used to studying people's behaviors and mannerisms. As he watched Evelyn, he noticed how she stood and how people talked about her, but only indirectly, as if it was some grand secret who she was and what she was doing here. Maybe she was a senator's daughter or another one of the heiresses that populated the school...though if she was, he imagined she'd be sitting with the others, not being talked about as though she wasn't here by them. He squinted his eyes, thinking for a moment.
"Ya know...I haven't eaten much today...you want to grab something before the class gets going?"
Evelyn smiled politely at Leland as he asked her about her 'Major.' Evelyn had a PH.D in History and Archeology and could speak 10 languages. She was also considered an expert in Art History and even had a fondness for Literature. During one of her many 'disappearances', she'd been staying in Oxford at her friend Deacon's family flat while studying Literature and writing at Oxford University. Evelyn hid in books; it was the only thing that remained constant in her life. "I 'm actually just a helper. Your professor is a colleague of mine and wanted to make sure his TA is doing this class justice since it's a major required one." Evelyn leaned forward, closer to Leiland, and dropped her voice. "Between you and me, I think the TA is doing just fine and doesn't need a babysitter." She sat back again and looked at him. "So you're taking this class, but you never specified your major? Is it top secret?" Was she actually flirting with this man? This was the most she'd spoken to anyone outside her office and her psychiatrist in quite a while. "You do know class is about to start in about 20 minutes, right? The only place to eat is the vending machine until 9:30pm." Which was late and honestly Evelyn hated the nighttime, if her friend hadn't asked her to help monitor his class she would be home already with the doors and windows shut and in one room where it felt safe. Watson Manor was a tomb to Evelyn, but she didn't have the heart to sell it, even though deep down she really, really wanted to. "Perhaps another time..." She gave a gentle smile and leaned back, wondering if that was the end of the conversation. She was used to being asked out on dates, but she always said no. Being labeled a black widow and losing everyone you ever cared for makes finding relationships...unbearable.
Leiland found himself wanting to tell this young woman everything, which was unusual for him at best. He was never that open and talkative before he'd been arrested, and even less so now, mainly because the people saw only an older man —gray starting to creep into his hair despite only being in his late 30s, the steel-cut jawline, and the years in jail that automatically defined everything. He smirked, hearing her ask if his major was some grand secret. There were two ways to answer that, but he really didn't want her to get the wrong idea about his intentions here, so he decided not to play it too coy just yet.
"No secret, just not something most people like to talk about. I've got to finish my architecture degree before I can get certified by the city to work. They make you jump through a few more hoops when you're coming out of the penal system's training programs." He shrugged, relaxing his shoulders and holding his demeanor a little bit more. If she still wanted to talk to him now, he'd let her in a bit more. As she shot him down about getting food he looked down at the rather old watch on his wrist and frowned before looking back up at her. He wasn't really checking the time but for some reason thought it was clever. God help him.
"I know and maybe since you're helping out you'd know better than I will but in the experience I've had this week, the first class is almost always a review of the syllabus, which is online, the office hours, which are on the syllabus and assigning whatever the first homework is, which is also on the syllabus and I've already read." He gave her a knowing look and tilted his head. He was a bad boy in his prime: motorcycles, leather jackets, and cigarettes; girls never knew if he was coming or going, and most of the time he just wanted fast women to go with his fast bikes. But... that was then. And now it was a little different. There was something about Evelyn he couldn't put his finger on, but something about him made him want to keep talking to her.
"And if I'm completely wrong about how this one is set up, a couple of cans of soda, two bags of chips, and then a couple of slices of pizza from the stand near the C line afterward?"
Evelyn sat there a moment looking at Leiland, he was far from the type of man she'd ever really date or even speak to, but there was something in his eyes, a sort of calm warmth that made her feel comfortable. More comfortable around people than she's been in a while. Thinking a moment she looked up as the TA walked in and gave her a smile, he was a younger man, wearing a pair of slacks and a black dress shirt, his hair was already giving a salt and pepper glow to it. He was very gay and his husband was one of the philosophy professors here. "You know you're eerily correct about that, he really is just planning on discussing the general emphasis of this class...." She paused for a moment, her mind frozen in the 'what if's' and the 'why fors' before she took a slow breath and gave Leiland another smile. "You know, that sounds kind of nice... We could slip out now before they get started. Besides if you miss anything I have all of Dr. Millers notes and such..." She bit her lower lip before she began to pick her things up. "I see that one car has line usually... So it must be good?" She wasn't someone who ate from 'carts' and 'stands' she was a Michelin star restaurant woman, IF she even went out at night. But Evelyn had been trying to say 'Yes' more than 'No' to people, and try to get out more. Maybe Leiland was one of those 'Yes's' that wouldn't come back to bite her in her ass later. And if not, at least tonight would be pleasant.
To say he was surprised that this beautiful young woman actually agreed to go get something to eat with him, of all people, would have been putting it lightly. But through some stroke of luck, she did, and he gave her what he hoped was a pleasant smile and playfully joked. "Oh, so I'll get the inside scoop? You figured out my motive all along." He winked at her, a broad smile spreading across his face.
The stand near the C Line had some of the better pizza. It was a small hole in the wall, quite literally, with a window to order and serve, and the building itself was like a closet, somehow outfitted with a wood-fired oven and two counters, back-to-back. Leiland had been going there since before he was arrested and was surprised to find it still there, in the middle of the gentrification projects that were taking over most of the places around it. He nodded to Evelyn, turning on his heel slightly, and offered her his arm.
"It's been around since I was a kid, caught in between a rock and a hard place, almost literally, and in most cases, if you don't know what it sells, you'd walk right past it thinking it's nothing special. But the slices are huge." There's always been something about an extra-large slice of Brooklyn-style pizza, folded in half on a greased paper plate, and a can of Coke that just put him in a nostalgic mood. Maybe it was because that's what his grandfather always loved to do when they were together. He was a Michelin-star, caviar-eating, millionaire on the outside, but on the inside, he was always going to be the poor boy with $1.50 burning a hole in his pocket, waiting in line for the treasured treat.
As they walked out, he realized she had completely glossed over his mention of the penal system, though he didn't know if maybe she hadn't heard him or if it just didn't matter. After a second of considering it, he decided not to mention it again unless she brought it back into conversation. It wasn't that important in the long run.
"I can say this of it, it won't be your typical date spot." He chuckled softly, leading her back outside again. Like most people, Lei didn't have a car to get around the city; nearly everywhere he needed to be was within walking distance of the subway. Looking at Evelyn, he didn't really see her riding the bullet train toilet.
"Are you up for a walk?"
Sara & Guy
GUY:
“I know you are, but it doesn’t mean I can’t worry about you still.”
Guy hadn’t meant for this tryst to continue, in all honesty. He played cat and mouse games so often with her, Robin and the rest, it was hard for a while to differentiate between the game and the feeling in his chest when he saw her. Sara was unlike anyone he had met and he loved her, against all better judgement.
Hearing her he frowned softly and leaned back, looking out the window at the expanse of dead or dying fields before closing the shutters and facing her again.
“Oh? And here I was hoping you’d just be mine for a while.” He sighed, combing a hand through his hair and beginning to unhook his tunic. He paused when he saw the look on her face and his tone dropped.
“What’s wrong? You have that look…”
SARA:
Sara moved and untied the front of his tunic slowly, her fingers playing with the strings. She wished this was a social call; she wished it was because she was cold and wanted to keep him warm, but they'd been hearing 'rumors' of an inquisitor. And Sara didn't like the news she'd gotten.
"I've heard...." Her fingers stilled on the strings of the tunic's front. "Of someone coming that the Sheriff is very excited about.."
Sara knew he'd have questions about how she even heard about that, but because of all she'd done, it's amazing who would talk to her who works directly in the palace.
"Any idea who...that is?" She hoped Guy was feeling up to sharing because this person who was coming did NOT sound good.
As Sara moved and started working the ties of his tunic, Guy relaxed a bit despite himself. He wanted this to be a visit, as she hadn't been to the lodge at Locksley in a few weeks. The Sherrif was becoming agitated and irritated about the new girl with the outlaws and how Guy and his men couldn't catch her for long. Or how it seemed that Guy was purposefully letting her go. But that couldn't be the case, really?
It was cold tonight, and a fire was burning in the corner of the room. His cook had started working on dinner downstairs, and a bath would also be brought up.
"You have?" It was both a question and a statement. Of course, she had, Sara had eyes and ears everywhere, it seemed. He dismissed it for now.
"No...some great torturer from London, but my guards tell me he's had dealings even further north than that, Denmark and the surrounding areas. He's a vicious hunter, though. The Sherrif has been raving about him."
That was all the confirmation Sara needed to know that the following steps had to be extremely careful. She twirled the strand of cotton from his tunic around her partially gloved finger.
"If that's the case... I may not be coming around for awhile... and we should.. keep our distance.." She hated those words, she hated this whole situation, how is it that she was in love with someone that her dearest friend considered their greatest enemy. Even Robin never knew where she got her intel from. But truthfully, she and Guy had something special, something more profound than cat and mouse and something that both scared and elated Sara. Those feelings alone were the reason this inquisitor made Sara nervous. If anyone found out about her and Gisborne, that could be used against her. Guy was her Achilles heel.
And now, speaking those words, she almost confessed her true feelings to Gisborne.
Guy sucked in a breath as Sara touched his tunic, wanting nothing more than to scoop her up and pin her to the wall, bury himself in her skin, hold her close, and ultimately protect her from the beast that was currently making its home inside the castle in Nottingham. It was not to be, of course, given the state of their world and the man pursuing the outlaws. Pulling himself away from his reverie. Guy had always liked the cat-and-mouse game he and Sara played, and more often than not, he got to be the cat when they were secreted away from everyone else. The Inquisitor was a trap, the end of the mouse forever. He let out the breath he was holding
"I know...I know..." He didn't want to let her out of his grip and took another moment to hold her close to him. "This Inquisitor is going to be the end of us..." He didn't just mean their relationship; this man was evil incarnate with a black heart and a hole where his soul should be. To Guy, when it came to Sara, he couldn't bring himself to let anyone know about them. Maybe not ever; it was complicated, but telling the Sheriff he was falling in love with the bane of the little man's existence...that he was the reason the outlaws knew the delivery schedules and where they could hit the transports without having as many guards...the fact that he moved Marian into the castle not for his own heart's sake but to legitimately protect her from the guards...
It took Guy another moment before he spoke again, and when he did, he let go of Sara's waist, stepping back only enough to touch her face. I'm torn when it comes to you...I could quickly turn you over here and now to the guards down in the courtyard. I'd be made a Lord, given this wretched land, I could bring about the end of Robin Hood and his band of miscreants. But...I don't think I could live with myself." He let his hand drop and looked Sara in the eye.
When Guy moved away from Sara, she felt cold and wanted nothing more than to pull him back. Hearing his words nearly made her cry out in agony. How could she be falling in love with him? He was an enemy, wasn't he? No. If he were an enemy, she wouldn't be here unarmed and speaking to him in the most vulnerable way. "Guy... " she whispered and moved, cupping his face in her hands, kissing him deeply. Her hands curled into his hair, holding his head hostage. Her body pressed into his as she stood on her tiptoes. Nothing mattered right now, not Robin, not Vaisey, not the Gods, not the Great Game, NOTHING but this moment, his kiss against her body. He was her weakness. "I love you, " she whispered, momentarily breaking the kiss. The idea of not being near him was nearly killing her. She had loved her first husband, Jorgi, but Guy was different. Honestly, she shouldn't be loving anyone. She wasn't going to stay long. Her mission was clear, and that was to find the last gem and go home. But in her mind, this Inquisitor wasn't going away. Something about how he was described sounded familiar, and it was someone Sara never wanted to see again—the man who still haunted her nightmares.
Guy had never planned on falling in love with Sara, but that's how love works, isn't it? You never expect to fall for the person in front of you. She had been the bane of his existence, someone he couldn't ever seem to pin down, even though she played the same game all of the other outlaws did. He had reasons for hating Robin, or at least that's what he had thought, but after being trapped with Sara in that damnable well, he'd also lost all that reasoning. The thought of her nagged at him, tugging at every part of his mind, and in the end, he had given up trying to fight it and fell into her. He always wanted to be with her, and she was on his mind when he wasn't. He had started feeding her information about where tributes were going to be brought or finding a way to keep the guards further back without drawing attention because, in the end, Sara, Robin, and the rest of them were helping the people of Nottingham more than the Sheriff and Gisborne were, at least in the obvious sense. It had worked until now, before this new man was brought in.
Guy hadn't liked him the moment he'd shown up. He was over six feet tall, his hair pulled back in odd braids, and he had a devilish look in his eyes, which told Guy he'd been around a few times and knew more about the way the world worked than anyone was letting on. It was a similar look to the one Sara sometimes got when she thought he wasn't looking. The man called himself a Viking, which was somewhat impossible; most Northern people were no longer talked about and had faded into mystery and legend. So many of them had integrated into their people over the years. Anything Guy knew about them, though they were a vicious, wild people, prone to dramatic and cruel acts of violence. And honestly, hearing what the Inquisitor planned for the outlaws, it was getting harder not to believe him when he said what and who he was.
He relaxed, so she cradled his face and leaned forward into the kiss. The sweet warmth of her lips teased him onward, wanting ever more so when she pulled away to speak, he was almost sad and cold in the same instance. Hearing those beautiful words come out of Sara's mouth, Guy couldn't hide the small smile that tugged at the corner of his mouth. Another moment may not hurt. The Inquisitor had made threats about watching his home, that no one could be trusted, but then again, he had made the same promises about Marian's home, and nothing had come of that yet. Just another moment....
"I love you, too, Sara." He realized he had never said it before, not because he hadn't felt it with every inch of his being but because he had been afraid that if he had said it, somehow he'd wake up from this dream.
Deep down, Sara knew her time here was limited, but she began to deny it as it went on. She loved Robin and the others like family, more than she's loved many of the people who have come in and out of her life. Sinbad had taught her survival, how to swing a sword, and how to sail a ship through the toughest of storms. She learned even more with her time living with Jorgi and the other Northsfolk, she even had a child with him, and raised that child for over 5 years, those were some of the sorest spots in her soul, but wounds that were borne out of necessity. But this was different. Guy felt a deeper, tighter hold on her heart. Those words struck her to the depths of her soul. This was true love. "This is a bad idea.." She let herself whisper as she leaned back, looking at him. She wanted Gisborne, she wanted him shaking underneath her, her name moaned from his beautiful mouth, but at what cost, what price would she pay for that? Did she care anymore?
"I love you, gods do I love you." She loved to love him, she loved to hate him, she loved fighting against him or at her side, she loved HIM. Something caught her attention out of the corner of her eye as she saw horses and ducked around the side of the wall, looking angrily at Gisborne. Had he set a trap for her? Those were the Sheriff's men, with a strange hooded man in front of them. She had left her weapons under a tree at the edge of Locksley Manor; she was unarmed and vulnerable. "Setting me up, Gisborne? " she hissed at him as her eyes quickly scanned through his room. His own sword lay just beyond the bed on a chair. Could she get to it before him? She was a fool for letting him get an advantage over her; you can't really trust anyone.
"I know it..." It was all Guy had managed to get out of his mouth before there was the soft clattering sound on the stairs and the sounds from below. He growled low in his throat, he had told the damned Inquisitor that he would handle this...but now he was being put in a position he didn't want to be in. Does he expose himself as the lover of the outlaws, the one who has been letting them get in and out of the castle in Nottingham, the one feeding them information, or did he risk losing the only woman he had loved by lying to her and feeding her to the wolves? Guy could only hesitate there momentarily while he tried to figure out what he would do. The air around him was stiflingly hot as he mentally weighed his options.
His eyes glanced towards his sword and then back at Sara. "That's..." he was cut off again, but this time by the voice of the Inquisitor from underneath his black hood. It rumbled, low and cruel like a wild animal stalking its prey.
(Charles)
Kaerl, or Roan as he was using these days, had been on this god forsaken planet for longer than anyone else he'd encountered yet, save one or two others, also touched by a certain girl. His story was one he didn't speak of; he had learned after meeting his first, but in no short way, his last death, that you simply don't talk about those things with people not like you. He had been a berserker in his northern village, set far up in what would one day become Denmark and Sweden. A wild man from the North, he preferred to allow his hands to do his talking rather than wasting time with anything else. He was a staunch follower of Tyr, his people's god of War, and bore his mark on the back of his neck, and now across his face. A scarification he had done to himself when the great one had tasked him with hunting down a particularly cunning little creature. He knew of her Great Game and what role he was supposed to play. It had been 400 years since he had last seen the girl, though, and while he had committed his own series of crimes in that time, he had learned and honed his skills, making himself stronger, faster, better than whatever they could throw at him.
Kaerl had changed his name a few times, either because he was attempting to avoid others like him, followers of Loki, or another more annoying thorn in his side in the form of a magician and the father of a fashion of the same girl. He and Yorgi had crossed paths some 200 years before he'd found himself again in England; they'd clashed over some other war, fighting nearly to the death of one another before they both crawled off, presumably to die. Whatever the outcome, he assumed he had been the only one of that battle to walk away successfully, and as far as anyone else knew, that was the truth. He made a name for himself on this strange little island. His people had once been hell bent and determined to conquer it but it seemed that they had eventually resorted to just fucking the populace and becoming farmers. Such a depressing outcome for the once mighty people, but then again, he never saw much in Ragnar Lothbrok and his ilk anyhow. They were farmers and would always be the same.
While living in this place, he fashioned a new persona, taking the name Roan and using his skills to become the new "Inquisitor". A better title was still Berserker, but it didn't quite flow off the tongue like these "decent" people would want, so he went with their word. "Torturer" fit better as well, and after he was summoned by the mousey little man that the people of Nottingham called Sheriff, he promised nothing short of a show when he found the outlaws and made them beg for death by the end of it. He wanted an exterminator, someone to deal with his little issue, the worst of which appeared to be a young woman now leading the little band of miscreants. The sheriff believed that his right hand man was sleeping with the enemy, which was something that wouldn't exactly surprise Roan, he had seen it quite a bit with those you're supposed to be condemning and end up screwing instead.
For his part, Gisborne was as oblivious as the sheriff. He either didn't care or didn't believe that this new Inquisitor was as dangerous as he was cautioned to be. Whatever the case may be, Roan didn't really care. He had a job to do, and he intended to do it. He didn't know why the voice of his god in his head had sounded off about this particular job and as it had been so long since the little prey had shown up, he actually doubted highly that it had anything to do with her, he just thought it was something to keep him busy, maybe have a little fun?
As he stood on the stairs leading up to Gisborne's chambers, he tapped the knuckles of his right hand against the wall in a familiar rhythm: four taps, a pause, then four more. He paused for a moment, the dark rim of his cloak shielding his face. His hair was dark and hung around his shoulders, though even with all the years, he kept it in the tight braids of his former people. He had earned those braids; he wasn't about to let them loose now.
"Gisborne, you disappointed me with this game. You gave up your little prize too quickly." His voice was dark, low, and taunting. He wanted the other person to give themselves up first.
Guy couldn't help the shiver that ran, unbidden, down his spine. Few things in the world scared him, and that man embodied almost all of them. Guy sucked in a breath quickly and made a move for his sword, though he wasn't sure if he was actually going to help Sara or capture her to save himself in that instant.
Sara felt her anger rise as she realized it had been a trap this whole damn time, but stayed frozen and quiet as the sound of Soldiers start to surround Locksley Manor she glared angrily at Gisborne and took a deep breath, she had to get to the window or a sword fast and as Gisborne made his move towards his blade Sara moved cutting him off and grabbing the long sword holding it firmly and with skill in her hands signaling for Gisborne to be quiet as she hissed in a whisper. "Fuck you Gisborne.... I knew I should never have trusted you.. Tell your men to stand down or....." Her voice trailed off, hearing the man's voice up the stairs, a voice that made her blood run cold and freeze. No, it couldn't be him....could it? He wouldn't still be alive NOW. Sucking in some air, Sara knew she had to act fast. Still holding the sword, she moved back towards the window and assessed the situation. There were Soldiers stationed under the window, so she was going to need to deal with that. Looking back at Gisborne, her eyes reflected the hate. "You're lucky I don't kill you now." She hissed and began to move out the window, preparing to jump on the soldiers below. She'd fight her way out if she had to; she wouldn't become the Inquisitor's first victim.
As she slung one leg over the window, still holding the sword at the ready, she hissed at Gisborne, "I'll NEVER trust you again.." Her heart hurt from falling in love with an enemy; she should have listened to Robin and Marian. Gisborne was just as evil as the Sheriff.
"Fuck!" Guy cursed and tried to move before one of two things happened: the Inquisitor opened the door or Sara got his sword. Of course, he hadn't succeeded in the second one, losing the sword to her. As she hissed at him, he growled low in his throat, not a pleasant sound, but nothing about this moment was. He hadn't sold her out to this monster; he was supposed to be going after Marian and Robin tonight, but of course, you can't trust anyone like the creature out there on the stairs. Truthfully, Guy wasn't certain that was even a man; some of the things he had in mind for the outlaws were so barbaric that there was no way a human would have concocted them.
"Sara..." Guy's voice hinted at his deception, and he realized he only had a moment before she was out the window and having to fight the soldiers outside. Without thinking of himself, since she still had his weapon, he moved for her and caught her arm. His eyes gave him away. He was worried for her, and hearing her words had cut him more than that sword ever would. He dropped his voice and spoke as quickly as he could.
"There's another way out..." He gestured with his head towards a large tapestry against the wall. He had found it once by accident, and she had even mentioned it when they had been in bed together; there was a draft from that side of the room that no one could place. "There's a door hidden behind the tapestry, it seals tight, you'd never know it was there...follow it down and around, it leads down into a grain cellar, from there it goes left and it'll take you to the forest." He didn't tell her that if you go right, it goes straight towards Nottingham, but he hadn't thought that far ahead. Outside the room, Roan rapped his knuckle on the door and called in a sing-songy, mocking tone.
"Come now, Gisborne, open the door...we know she's here."
Guy hissed at Sara and almost dragged her to the tapestry, pulling it back from the wall and pressing on a small, innocuous flower that blended with the rest of the wall. Sure enough, it opened only slightly and without making much sound.
"Hit me, before he comes in. Hit me and run." In his eyes, he was trying to say everything he couldn't. This hadn't been his idea...he did love her, as much as he didn't want anyone else to know it.
Gisborne grabbing her knocked her off kilter, and she was seemingly stunned for a moment until her eyes met his; they gave him away. Sara moved with him to the tapestry as he moved it aside and opened the door. She turned her head, looking at the door as someone knocked and then that voice... it couldn't be him... could it? "Hit you," She parroted, but understood what he meant. Sara leaned in and kissed him hard and deep her hand curled around the back of his neck before she moved and swung the butt of his sword and hit him across the temple causing blood and dropped the sword before she hit him in the gut and tossed him onto the bed. "The lake, tomorrow night midnight," She whispered as she ducked out of the room, closing the door behind her, and moved to the steps, taking a deep breath to calm her heart beating, and looked, he said to go LEFT. She moved quickly down the steps to the door at the bottom and opened it slowly. Two guards stood just a few feet away, the air was crisp but not cold, and the only sound from the guards speaking to each other was the breeze moving through the trees. Her weapons were just feet from her, hidden in the tree line. Sara moved silently, low to the ground behind the two guards. She grabbed both of them by the backs of their armor suits and swung them around, kicking both of them in the back with a split kick. She made her way to the tree line, sliding down the hill and down to where her things were under some brush. She took a moment to fasten her belt and pulled her bow out. She needed to get them away from Gisborne so whoever that was wouldn't suspect him of treachery. Moving quietly up the tree line, she watched two more guards find their comrades, but the two she'd knocked down had no idea what the hell just happened. Guards were filling out of the house and stables. Taking out a small bottle of mead, she doused a piece of cloth she kept for bandages in her pack and stuffed it into the bottle, fastening it to her arrow with another piece of fabric and making her way towards the back of the stables, looking for a target amongst the confused soldiers. Spotting the empty prisoner transport carriage, Perfect. Taking two pieces of flint that she had fastened into a medieval lighter, she lit the makeshift Molotov cocktail and aimed at the carriage, firing and smashing the bottle against it as it lit on fire. She turned and made her way from the manor, quietly listening to the pandemonium she had just set off. Surely that was enough, but she wasn't going back to Sherwood tonight. No way in hell was she leading whomever was back. She didn't know what kind of tracker he was. The main thing was putting distance between her and Locksley manor; she hoped Gisborne would be alright.
That kiss nearly shattered whatever resolve Guy may have had left. he felt Sara's lips crush against his, but before he could react with impulse, the sword hit him across the head, and he let out a gasp, breaking their contact. Groaning when she punched him in the gut, he more dramatically stumbled back, falling against the bed as the tapestry fell. There was still a scuff mark on the windowsill, and it looked like someone had tried to escape. It didn't take long after the cloth had gone still against the wall again before Roan had clashed his brute force into the door, cracking it open to find Guy in the window, one hand on his stomach and the other on the sill. There was a small trail of blood running down the side of his face.
The Inquisitor joined him by the window with only three or four brisk steps. Something about the man made Guy want to shrink back and cower, and he wasn't one prone to acts of fear.
"I see you're keeping all the fun to yourself, Gisbourne?" The man's voice was tinged with malice and somehow entertainment. Guy winced as Roan reached out and touched the drying blood, getting some of it on his fingertips and rubbing them together, seeming entranced by it for a moment. He wondered what this man really was, because he didn't act like he was human. Leaning against this window, he started to speak when the guards were suddenly clamoring around, two of them had been knocked out in the stables, and someone was fleeing to the forest line.
"Fuck." Guy tried to keep his voice stable when he cursed, and he and Roan shared a look that Guy couldn't read. For his part, Roan was looking at the scuffing of the window, the drag marks on the shingles of the roof and the slight dip in the tiling where someone could have slipped off the side, if she was small enough, quick enough she could have followed the roof around to the side where it was sloped more, jumped on the soldiers and taken them out before making a dash for the trees. These men were quite stupid; they never looked up when they were supposed to be standing guard. He'd noticed that when he first arrived. But there was something else...this all felt staged, and he hated that. If he learned Gisbourne was playing him for a fool, there would be hell to pay.
The fire near the forest's edge got both of their attention, and they stared at it for a moment before bolting from the room. Guy took the stairs quickly, but Roan somehow beat him out the back door, and both raced to where the fire was catching from the small carriage and into the nearby trees. The men were rushing to put it out before it spread too far, and it didn't take long to get it put out, but it was a fine distraction. Roan had seen something similar once before, and all he could do was laugh.
He said that speaking to no one in particular and yet directly to someone he knew was closer than she appeared. "You need to find some new tricks, little Outlaw. I'll find you, I always do."
((Skipping ahead)) Sara crouched down next to the fire and tossed in another log of wood before standing up looking up at the sky just now turning from Blue to orange to purple and blue. The Sun was setting and Guy would hopefully be here soon. She'd told him to meet her here at Sunset, their spot near the lake at the edge of Sherwood. It was where they would always meet, neutral territory, their safe haven, their intimate spot. But tonight Sara needed answers. She had traps set all along the path and near the edge of the woods to know when he came, simple traps that would make a noise on anyone sneaking up on her. But Sara would be waiting in the trees just to the east of the lake, waiting. Her gut was uneasy. The face of this so-called 'inquisitor' was familiar to her, but she didn't get a good look at his face at Locksley last night. She didn't have a good feeling about this. Sara had avoided Robin and the others most of the night and during the daylight, making herself busy with Patrols and deliveries so that she wouldn't need to explain anything. She can't explain what she doesn't understand. As the sunlight began to disappear she made her way to the tree and climbed up high into the branches looking towards the camp she'd set up, the Furs laid out like always, the fire going and a basket of food waiting for them. She hoped Guy was being truthfully and would come alone, she tried her best to believe last night wasn't a set up it was just a coincidence, but this new life she was living made her very suspicious of everyone. She settled her back against the tree trunk and stretched her legs out on the branch and set her sights on the spot and waited, her ears open listening to the changes around her, the day birds going to sleep and the chirps of crickets and frogs, the occassional 'hoot' of an owl hunting it's nightly dinner. But silence the rest of the time. "Please dont betray me" She whispered into the air as if hoping her words would carry and he would.. but her stomach was uneasy, something was out there, and it was hunting her as well.
Getting away from Locksley had proven to be a bit of a struggle tonight, after the fires burning at the edge of the village and the damn inquisitor following him around. Guy had managed to act like he had been injured, and at least for the most part, it had seemed to pass the bearing down on him by the other man. Roan was quickly growing to be one of the bigger thorns in his side, and with him running so many executions and no longer seeming to play the same tedious game that Gisbourne and the Sheriff had in the past with the outlaws, things in Locksley and the surrounding villages were getting tense. He had gone through the interrogation the bastard had put him through while they were searching the woods, and attempting to put out the fires she had started to throw them both off of her scent. Something was unsettling with how the other man seemed to show absolutely no fear as he walked through the burning blazes, talking to Guy the whole time. He wanted to know how the thief had gotten into his room, how he'd managed to not capture her, if she was supposed to be such a small little thing, why was she overpowering a man of Gisbourne's size without something else going on. Guy hoped now that he'd managed to throw him off the scent enough.
Roan was not one to be put off. There were more executions today, more interrogations and accusations. Generally, there were becoming fewer and fewer people who were willing to talk to him, because eventually they were going to have to give up what they knew about Robin Hood and his little gang of miscreants. And that woman in particular. Guy had been present for some of them before he had mounted his horse, stating as plainly as possible that he needed to clear his head, get out of the centre of town with everything that was going on there, and try to breathe in something that wasn't the scent of blood and fear. He had rode out as far as he dared on the trail he always took to the lake. Still, instead of going directly to it he instead rode his horse around a few more times, going this way and that until it looked like he had gone a completely other direction. There he stopped, dismounting from his horse and tied it up far from the road, way into the back of the brush and still about an hour the opposite direction from the lake where he was meeting Sara.
To get to their spot, Guy took a rather round about way, spending a lot of his time walking across rocks or at one point hopefully throwing the scent of whoever might have been following him by walking a good portion of the way upstream through the river, being as careful as he could not to leave too many footprints in the mud either. As he got closer, he crouched beneath one of the trees and took a few minutes. Ahead of him, he could see the light of the small campfire and couldn't help but smile, watching the firelight dance between the tree cover. After listening for longer than he probably needed to, he finally moved forward, walking in a strange, almost zigzag pattern, mainly on the rocks instead of on the ground, careful not to make them move too much. Stepping into the opening, he looked around and didn't immediately see Sara, which only made him smirk, and he looked up. One of the first things he'd learned from her during their original cat-and-mouse game was that no one ever looks up.
He didn't speak right away but instead made a mimicking sound like one of the birds' whistles to let her know he was here. It was important to him that he had done so much to keep anyone from knowing where he was going and who he was meeting...Last night was bad enough without any more surprise guests showing up. He wanted just a few minutes with Sara, to explain what was going on and to hopefully convince her that he was still safe. Even if he didn't wholly believe that either.
Sara stayed silent as she watched Guy slowly make his way to their spot. She heard his whistle, but didn't move right away. She waited a few more moments before silently making her way down from the tree and emerging from the brush just a short distance from Guy. The difference in their meeting tonight was that Sara was heavily armed, her swords strapped to her back, along with her quiver of Arrows, two daggers on her hips, two in her boots, and her bow clasped firmly in her hands with an arrow already knocked. She pulled the bow up and aimed at Guy as she stepped towards him. "Why did you set me up.." She would let an arrow loose into his skull if he came towards her. Sara was tense, angry, and perhaps deep down just a little afraid. She didn't trust that Guy was alone, and she was ready to fight if necessary. Deep in her green eyes was pain; she felt her heart ache at the idea that someone she'd let herself love would set her up and betray her. Guy had always been shifty, and it was hard to know what side he played on most of the time, but deep down, Sara wanted to naively think he would always be on her side. But through all this Sara has learned you can never trust anyone, even your own lover.
The frown that was tugging at Guy's face threatened to completely overtake him when she spoke those words he dreaded hearing. He hadn't wanted to set her up, and truthfully hadn't really planned on it being what it had been. Roan was a cruel, calculating creature who seemed to only take Guy's words at face value most of the time. The only thing the two men may have shared was their dislike of the Sheriff as he prattled on about this or that. But that was where the likeness stopped. Guy was uncomfortable with Roan's presence and the Sheriff's sudden interest in his tactics regarding the outlaws. Perhaps Guy's secret had been found out about him helping the outlaws...but the Sheriff would be more likely to bring Sara and the rest of them in and make it a spectacle. This man was something else entirely.
Letting out a sigh, Guy stepped closer to the fire and showed her that he had none of his weapons, and even reached down, pulling up his pant leg to show her he didn't have the dagger he kept in his boot either.
"I didn't." He scowled and stoked the fire with a stick that was beside it, crouching down slowly and looking up at her. "That was the Inquisitor. His name is Roan, and I have never believed in anything evil in my life until I had the distinct displeasure of meeting him. He means to kill all of the outlaws. Starting with you."
Guy sighed, straightening his back and standing again, moving to touch her cheek softly. "Sara, I would never have turned you over to him, or any of them. You do believe me, don't you?"
Sara stood there, her bow drawn back watching Guys every single slight move, her eyes perked to the sounds around them unwavering. It wasn't until he moved to touch her that she moved slapping his hand away with the bow and stepped back. "Dont even think..." She hissed, stepping back for a moment, her green eyes studying his blue ones searching for the truth and honestly it was there in his words. After another moment she let the bow relax and she set it aside moving over and sat down next to the fire. "I believe you.." She whispered at the flames before looking up at him. "You understand why I was being cautious right...." That voice was familiar and Sara didnt want to admit to herself who it really and truly was. She moved pulling the satchel of arrows off followed by her swords and her weapons belt holding the daggers and the two in her boots. She motioned for Guy to sit next to her. "So what are we gonna do about him.." She looked at Guy. Knowing Robin wouldn't take charge of it, and that inquisitor was about to become a lot of trouble for everyone. "I can't stay long, Robin thinks I'm scouting your place.."
As Sara threatened him, Guy's face remained entirely impassive. She wasn't going to kill him; he knew that, but there was something in her fear and agitation that was sending a chill down his spine. She knew Roan, through some turn of the world or another, it was written all over her face, and the look in her eyes, she knew him and what he was capable of. Guy stepped back, his shoulders tensing a bit when she slapped him with the bow and frowned, but held her gaze with his own, like staring down a skittish animal. When she relaxed, he did the same, lowering his hands, stepping around her, sitting beside her, and gently tossing another log onto the fire.
As she shed some of her gear, he let out a breath. Her weapons were no longer the immediate threat, though they were still close enough if she needed to grab them quickly, either to flee or fight.
"Probably for the best..." Meaning Robin did not know that they were meeting like this. They were still playing the dangerous game of pretending no one knew they were actually seeing one another. Was this courting? If it was, it was a strange way to do it.
"As for Roan...it's not going to be long before he starts his assault on Sherwood, Locksley won't be able to avoid him for long." Guy paused and frowned, watching the flames flicker in front of him. "He's here for something...the Sheriff invited him here to deal with you...and the rest of the 'outlaws.'" He made quotes in the air as he spoke.
"He already worked out Marian's double life and has her home under guard...make sure to pass that along. It's not safe near the villages, and it's only going to get worse."
Guy let the words hang above them for a moment, considering how to approach his next question. There was something right there between them, and he felt like it needed to be said.
"Sara...." he started, "I saw something in your eyes when he spoke...like you recognized the voice...have you encountered him before?" Sara had told him she was on a kind of journey and had already been in several other places before making it to England. She was looking for something important, and it was vital that she found it, but he never knew exactly what that meant. When she had reacted so viscerally to seeing, or no...hearing Roan, he knew that the man had something to do with her. Sara was always cautious around him, but nothing like this.
Scott & Jory
SCOTT:
“I thought you liked it when I was a grouch?” Scott teased and watched her carefully as she snapped through her pictures. He was far and away though, thinking about this and that but mostly about how he found Jory and somehow he’d come to love her. Spending time with her made the hours fly by, it was strange for him after being alone for so long. Usually his angry outbursts or long sullen silences drove people away but she seemed oddly used to it.
His mind shifted again to story ideas, bringing back the Nightingale character again, the long lost bird, symbolizing an everlasting love, of course. She’d died in one of his last books but hearing Jory’s teasing words he imagined her the Nightingale, suddenly lowering her camera and smiling against the sunset. It made him smile, really and truly.
Jory pushing against him suddenly brought him back to reality and he sucked in a breath. She smelled of jasmine mixing with the wood bourbon and sandalwood of the cologne she had bought for him. He had teased her about it, mock whining it was too musky but he had liked it more than he wanted to let on.
“I like the one with the reflection in the glass…that last one though…” the one of his genuine smile. “that one stays with us.” He paused and wrapped an arm around her waist, almost cradling her.
“I have an image, after all”
JORY:
She snuggled into Scott as he looked through the photos and said that the one smiling stayed between them. She knew he had a reputation as a 'moody author', and some of his readers found that part of his charm. She wasn't going to ruin that. Honestly, she was just happy he still tolerated her presence.
She moves and saves the photos and looks up at him.
"I'm gonna show your publisher this one." She turns the camera around to show him looking over his shoulder, looking all modified.
"I don't know why you don't want anyone to see you smile, You have a wonderful smile. " She looked up at him and gave a gentle smile. She loved it when he smiled at her, or at something she'd done, or really just looked in her general direction.
Jory was honestly glad they met three months ago, and she's been able to help him get here to New York to finally see his publisher. He'd also been writing again, which was wonderful seeing too.
Part of the reason he wanted to keep the picture of him smiling was more selfish; she made him have that look. She'd made him see the light in the world, made him smile, healthy, happy, want to exist in the world, and want to put some of the parts of himself that were more dangerous and spiky to the side, away from the rest of the world. But he didn't want anyone else to know that it was her; for some selfish reason, he tried to keep Jory his; no one else could have her.
"I think she'll like that one; honestly, it finally shows my face without the bags under my eyes." The haunted look he used to have was finally gone. In 3 months, she'd come into his life like a whirlwind, and he couldn't be happier. It was a strange feeling.
"So, which one will you use for your project?" He heard her question and shrugged.
"I always got by being the reclusive hermit author, writing beautiful words while being tortured inside. People might not know what to do with me if I wasn't like that." Scott paused before continuing. "Besides, I don't want to share you yet."
Jory snuggled into his warm arms for a moment as they looked over the camera reel; she took a moment and averted her gaze to his face. The once deep bags under his eyes were replaced by smile lines, and the dark hole of his pupil now had a life to it. His eyes were brighter and his smile deeper. Jory was always told she had a way to make people happy, but never being satisfied herself made that hard to believe.
She also used to believe it was just dumb luck that they met in that Panera; he'd looked lost, knowing those were almost his last moments before he'd given into his madness. She stopped believing in luck and began to believe more in fate.
She nodded in agreement and looked down at the camera to see the photo she picked. "I'll make sure Melinda gets it then." Jory leaned up, kissing the corner of his lips.
"So that bakery we saw over on 21st... I really want a coffee and that cheesecake we saw, and then I want a hot bath and some trash TV. You've got that radio interview in the morning, so you need to get lots.. and lots of rest." The end of that sentence hinted at something less restful.
Scott had been spiraling when he went into Panera; he would get something warm to eat and spend the last few hours of his life doing something to simulate normalcy. Then, he went home and was done with it. The world didn't need him anyway. His book sales had dwindled; one of his books was so forgotten it was out of print, and as far as he had known at the time, no one cared. He was another misbegotten author, overlooked in a world of audiobooks and AI garbage. "The Nightengale series is nothing but a waste of paper, with a constant rehashing of the same four elements and lackluster assaults on the senses in a desperate attempt to sound like love." The reviewer had been cruel, but at the time, he had believed the words and taken them to heart. He only got it because an assistant from his publisher had sent it to him. He had it neatly folded with a letter to her saying "thank you." Everything was ready to go. His sister would get everything, Margaret had her own life, she didn't need him anymore. Everything would have been so easy. And then there was Jory.
Looking back on it momentarily as she snuggled against him, Scott couldn't help but smile down at her. She kept him from ending it all; in the long run, everything that had led up to it would have been wasted. It had been bullshit, ultimately. The reviewer hadn't read more than a few pages of his book, some idiot "booktoker" who wanted to go viral by bashing someone he couldn't be bothered to actually give a chance. That book was out of print, the most sought-after book of the series, and it was rare because it was so hard to find. They would be releasing a box set for the fans with all new art and leather bound editions.. And the fans. There were fan groups he never would have imagined or known about had it not been for the young woman who was now snuggled against his side, talking about cheesecake.
Coming out of wherever he'd been, he blinked and nodded, only half realizing what she had said. "Mmm-hmmm." It took him a second before he caught the trail again. "I think she'll like that one too. Sorry, I was miles away for a moment."
It was still difficult for him to be out in the world. It hadn't been a complete turnaround, as though he had never had any issues, but the talks of a warm bath and something sweet was tempting.
"You lost me at the bath. Do I get to join you in that?" He smirked and leaned down, taking her mouth hostage in a deep kiss.
Jory didn't know what she was going to do when she got on that Bus in New York, she just didn't want Jeremy to kill her like he said he would if she stayed. She loved Scott Christopher, but he was married and had a whole family. All Jory was trying to do was to keep him from spiraling, so she could send him home to that family. Jory was a fixer, never a keeper, and honestly, she expected the same to happen with this Scott. Her luck didn't seem to be good with Scotts.
She hoped she was wrong. Jory was falling more and more in love with him as they stayed together, and part of her even thought maybe they were together, even though Scott hadn't officially said so. They spent so much time together, and he'd even managed to write a brand new book after years, although he wouldn't let Jory read it yet for some odd reason. But she wouldn't push him.
And even if they didn't last much longer, she would never regret walking into that Panera on that rainy Wednesday. "Where did you go?" She leaned up, nuzzling his scruff and kissing his chin before he captured her mouth. She curled her fingers into his hair and kissed him back, standing on her tiptoes to reach his height, and leaned heavily into him. His kisses sent her to space and made every hair stand on end, the tingling and sensations driving her mad. "Hmmm, maybe a bath wouldn't be so bad," she whispered against his mouth and tugged on his shirt. "Cheesecake first, then bath." She purred, letting all her doubts go away for a while. She just wanted him and only him.
Scott shook his head softly as she asked him to elaborate and didn't answer her right away, instead choosing to rub his chin against the top of her head softly. He loved it when she would skritch herself against his scruffiness. It was one of many things that had been a disliked feature of his ex...that woman had been morphed into a monster that now only existed on paper, and he was happy to leave her there. So many of his readers rallied around hating her as well, he had discovered after finding one of the many message board posts that Jory had found with them. They wondered who had inspired the three-headed, two-faced, fire-breathing amalgamation he'd created of the woman he once called his wife. What was she? Who was she supposed to be? How would this new character be used in what he was promising was a new series, not just the Nightengale series anymore, but was something more fantastical coming? He never knew he had that much effect on people to have message boards devoted to his books, much less people who studied his writings.
Coming out of his reverie again, he shrugged softly. Something about this young woman had turned everything he knew on its ear. "It's not important...just thinking about how different things would have been if I hadn't taken that right turn." He was supposed to be going home to take his last breaths alone, and yet he turned and decided he needed his last cup of coffee and a sweet thing. He got both in more ways than one. Feeling her weight against him now, he wrapped his arms around her and, without thinking, as was so often when he was around her, he breathed against her lips as they pressed into his.
"I love you, you know that, right?"
There was an odd chill that hung on his shoulders for a moment. He'd never said it. Those words used to haunt him, he said it so often to the last one, and she never said it directly to him, it was always the floor, his ear, the coffee cup...something that was never him. He wanted so much for Jory to say it and was so afraid that she wouldn't. But everything she had done for him...with him. She wasn't doing it out of sympathy...was she?
Those three words and her heart began to do somersaults in her chest, beating so loudly she swore he could hear. The world swirled around her, and everything began to melt around them; he was all she could see. Those blue eyes, sorrowful yet deep inside full of hope, for the first time, hope.
A cold breeze returned Jory to the present as the noise of the city returned to her ears, and the elation hit quickly after that as she cupped his face in her hands, looking at him differently now.
"I love you too... Oh god do I love you Scott.." She couldn't hide the excitement in her voice, her eyes lighting up and her smile wide and bright. For the first time in her 22 years of life did she finally hear 'I Love you' not even her own mother had said those words to her, her lovers the same, she was good enough for warmth but not good enough to love. "I love you deeper then the deepest ocean.." She said it again. "I Love you Scott, more than life itself..." She leaned into him kissing him hard her hands holding his head hostage as she jumped into his arms wrapping her legs around his waist. For the first time in her life, she was loved.
To say he wasn't sure how she was going to react was an understatement, and to some degree, he had been playing through the conversation a hundred thousand different ways since he had first started thinking about saying it to her. Jory had come to Scott when he was at his lowest, and whether he would normally say he believed in fate or kismet or any of that, he couldn't and wouldn't be able to say. Love was rare and could be dangerous if you didn't allow it to expand and soar within you. He had always wanted it, written about it being just out of reach for his poor main character. Hell...that character was more of a representation of himself than he had ever wanted to admit to until more recently. His trials and tribulations echoed those in Scott's life, but where that character had found a love that he had ultimately choked the proverbial life out of and smouldered the fires of the Nightengale...Scott had never had it before. The woman he had married hadn't been in love with him.
But Jory was a radiant light in his otherwise dismal life. He found himself wanting to be better for her, wanting to cooperate when it came to taking his medications when he was supposed to, he wanted to be the man he knew he could be, just so he could be with her. Scott believed he could now stand without her, but as his eyes fell on the young woman looking up, he couldn't imagine not having her at his side. He could see the words seemingly uplift her, allowing her to float above the ground, and he smiled. She had seen him at his worst and brought out the best in him, and he loved her for her resilience, her ability to always see the best in him even when he couldn't.
As Jory jumped into his arms, he caught her effortlessly and held her against his chest, his arms wrapped around her so he held her off the ground completely, safely, held trapped in his arms. Her mouth on his sent sparks through his mind and his entire being. "I have never been with anyone who has brought out the light in me before...I cannot imagine a breath without you..."
Scott paused for only the moment it took to give her another kiss, all of his passion and devotion stirring right behind and inside of each of them. "I thought I had experienced love once before, but...whatever that was...I don't have any more hesitation when it comes to you. It's a strange feeling, but I'm glad for it just the same."
Jory smiled against his lips kissing him again all over his face beaming with happiness, the fear of being back in New York had faded, she didn't care if Jeremy knew she was back in the city, she didn't care if Scott Christopher knew, or if her mothers old pimp knew she didn't care. All she cared about was here and now. "I'm never going to leave you, my love.." She whispered against his lips, kissing him repeatedly, and tears of joy began to seep down her cheeks from happiness. For the first time in her life, she knew what real love was, a lost little girl inside who longed to be loved, began to dance in joy that maybe just maybe they'd found their one true love they'd always dreamed about. Jory held tightly to him and kissed him deeply, her hands tangling around his neck, releasing his waist, she slid down his body so her feet touched the ground again, and she just continued kissing him, her heart filling with a joy she never imagined could exist. But in the back of her mind still sat that fear, that abandonment fear.
((Figure we can skip ahead after this scene))
Scott used to spend so much time wrapped around with his past selves and wading through the darkness and muck that he had felt like it would have been better for everyone if he just disappeared into that hellhole he'd dug for himself. It was selfish, and he knew that now, just like if he had actually carried through with his original plan and hadn't done what his therapist referred to as turning right. He changed his course at the last minute, which meant that he was now standing here with this amazing young woman sliding down his body; he was finally standing on his own again, stronger than ever.
Each kiss was filled with passion, more devotion than he could handle, and it felt like his whole heart would swell too big for his chest. After a few more moments of those earth-shattering kisses, they resumed walking, getting their dinner to go and the promised cheesecake, returning to the hotel in another hour or so. Scott hadn't wanted to wait long, but there was something about sitting there, laughing and talking to Jory about what they were going to do while they were in the city, after his book signing, the meetings and all the things they 'had' to do, he wanted to take her to the museums and see parts of the city he had never gotten the chance to. She had never been to the Met, though she knew about the Gala, but when it wasn't shining with celebrities and the throngs of cameras, it was just the Metropolitan Museum of Art. He actually wanted to go to it, if only because he wanted to see that little light in Jory's eyes as she found something that could enrapture her mind like she did to his spirit.
After dinner and Jory had set the bags outside the hotel room, he had scooped her up in his arms, carrying her into the bedroom, and proceeded to spend the next few hours mapping out her body. He used his tongue as much as his fingers, taking all the time in the world, burying himself in her just to hear that soft gasp and whimper escape her parting lips. He loved that sound; it always hung over his ears even after they were done. A tangle of sheets and bodies, Scott lay on his back staring up at the ceiling, and just took a moment to feel the pinpricks of sweat on his shoulders and Jory breathing steadily beside him. He wasn't completely cured; that part was well known to him. The voices in his head still tried to creep back in once in a while. She doesn't really love you. She's just using you. She's just amusing herself until she finds something better...You're a waste of space. This book isn't going to be as good as the others. Scott covered his face with his hands and sucked in a deep breath before letting it out slowly, finding the calm again. Instead, he rolled over onto his side and kissed Jory's shoulder, curling against her, returning to where they were only a few hours before.
Jory smiled as her eyes opened, feeling him snuggle against her back. She turned into his arms and caressed his cheek, her eyes searching his, and frowned. "You're overthinking, baby." She whispered, leaning in, kissing between his eyes where his 'thinking lines' always appeared
"No thinking, " she whispered, kissing his lips. "Thinking's bad,' she said, gently kissing him again and again. "I love you.." She whispered softly, looking up at him, pressing her naked body tighter against him, holding his body close to her, and gently caressing the small of his back. "I know those demons are trying to convince you of something sinister, but I promise Scott, this is real love.. I wouldn't be here if it wasn't..." She kissed him again and rubbed her nose against his. "You're worthy of love and devotion." They'd only been together about 8 months, and most of those months were spent by her making sure he was functioning. Jory wasn't one of those people who always saved people she honestly was just trying to take care of the man who saved her, and only finding out how broken he was, did she decide to help him out of his funk.. she had no idea she'd fall in love, maybe she already had. "Scott.." She whispered his name and snuggled against him, running her other hand against his naked chest. "You've made me happier than I've ever been. I have never thought love could feel like this.." She looked up at him again. "You make me realize I'm human, and not just something people use to heal themselves and then leave.... I hope you know that.. I love you, I love ALL of you... And you are so worthy of real love.."
"The demons are trying to make everything a mess again." He half whispered into her neck and snuggled her tightly, wrapping himself in her again. Jory had been a completely different thing than he had ever expected; she'd come out of left field and taken him over entirely. His sister had found out about her early in the relationship and had tried to poke holes in everything. Still, when he sat with Maggie and wanted to tell her everything good that had happened since he'd met Jory, he was surprised by how much better he was doing.
Jory had helped him see that his medications were making him worse, not better. He'd started eating better and was actually going outside for walks. He had a trainer now and had built up more muscle than before. He was sleeping better, and now they had a kitten at home that spent most of her time trying to chew on his pens and fingers whenever he would sit at his desk. He felt more alive than ever, not just in recent years. And it was thanks to this woman who came into his life on what was supposed to be the last night of his life.
After their first night together, something else had broken open. He had finally started writing again, essentially figuring out a way to retcon his last book so his character hadn't died but was instead transported to the land where the Nightengale sang, finally turning that strange, enigmatic constant in his books into the supernatural thing it was always supposed to be. He found out from Jory that one of his books, one of the 'best of the series,' had somehow fallen out of print, and they were re-releasing it now. He'd agreed finally to a leather-bound, illustrated set of the six-book series...about to be seven series. This young woman had found him at his worst and loved him anyhow, saw the man buried under all the death and despair. And when he was having a better day, she still loved him...it wasn't a passive thing, she didn't just care about him when he was broken, and that was what he needed.
His ex had only loved him when he was stable and coherent; she never wanted to see the darkness he held, and for years, he had tried to keep it hidden beneath everything. All that had done was turn the monster into something so much worse than it had ever been. Now he was finding that it had done more harm to him than good and was learning how to banish the beast, bring it out into the light, and let it live with him. Depression and bipolar disorder had collided into aggressive agoraphobia, making it nearly impossible for him to get out of bed, much less to live. While a part of him had hated it and wanted to be the man he had once been, there was too much holding him back. And yet...now he was lying in bed in New York City, getting ready to go to interviews tomorrow to discuss the turn of his books, and the return of his career. It was mindboggling.
Scott smiled softly at her words, nuzzling her softly and holding Jory tightly against him, letting her words wash over him, trying to imagine her touch and voice like a literal water, washing all of the darkness off him again. It took a few breaths before he opened his eyes again and looked down into hers. "You came to me at a time I thought I was going to be taking my last breaths...I always dreamt up the kind of woman I would want to be with, and you...you're her. It took a while, but my Nightengale finally got to me. I love you so much more than I have the words for."
Jory laid there with her back against his chest snuggled close, feeling the warmth of his naked body against her own and just let her eyes close for a moment. It's taken her so long to feel safe and content anywhere with anyone that the feeling was still a little foreign to her. She had to keep reminding herself that this time the bottom wont drop out.
There was always that nasty little voice in the back of her mind telling her to 'not get comfortable and that they will get sick of her soon, but Jory was doing her best to ignore that voice and tell it to shut up. She'd started seeing a therapist as well, she felt like if she wasn't mentally healthy and always trying to compensate for something she couldn't really be there for Scott fully. And the therapy was helping, she was learning her own strength.
It was weird, being somewhere healthy, with someone kind and just wanting to be loved like her. Scott was doing so well and he was heading out on a 5 city book tour for his newest book and she was getting to come with him! As she heard him softly snoring, she smiled and slipped out of his arms careful not to bother him and got up pulling her soft pink silk robe over her body and picked up her journal going outside of their hotel room to the balcony overlooking the Upper East side. She sat down and looked off into the distance in the direction of Alphabet City and remembered cold nights in her apartment with no heat, and the strip club she worked at... but most of all she thought of her mother. They technically lived in a little no-tell motel in Queens for as long as Jory could remember, her mother was a 'Lady of the Night' but really she was just a prostitute. And whenever her mother had 'clients' regardless of how old, cold or hot it was outside Jory had to stay outside. So she spent most of her time in libraries and other 24hr places, she'd study, read and teach herself how to speak other languages using the language lab. Jory remembered eating all the time at Milly's diner, the sweet red haired woman always let Jory eat for free, her mother never gave her any money to 'survive' on so Milly was always there and when Jory got a little older she would wait tables for Milly and was saving up her tips for her own place. "How far have you come Jory" She whispered to herself as she began to write her thoughts in her journal that she brought outside. It was so strange being back in New York as a 'tourist' almost. A cool breeze blew around her and she smiled, for the first time in her life she felt safe... like the ground was NOT going to fall out. ((We can skip or continue)
It was always strange to him when he could wake up in the morning after sleeping well. Even with the monsters that tried to rule over his mind, the whispers and the corrupting dreams and nightmares always seemed to pass away and over him when he was with Jory. And while there was some part of him that still feared that she was going to grow tired of him and his eccentricities, he knew, rationally, he was finally able to put his feet on the ground with her. Lucky for him, she had come around when she did. Scott had woken up a little when Jory had gotten up from the bed but he had figured she had gone to the bathroom, or he knew sometimes she got up to write in her journal, which was understandable. When she had come back, he pulled her tightly into his arms, kissing the back of her neck softly and nuzzling her before settling in again. She was always nearby when he woke again.
The morning was a little rushed, which had put him only slightly off his ease, but it was nothing that couldn't be taken in stride. He had been enjoying the quiet morning snuggles a little too much and had actually forgotten about the morning radio show he was supposed to do. It hadn't been too bad of an interview, asking why he'd disappeared off the face of the earth, why he'd suddenly come back, and if that was all for the Nightengale series. As he walked out of the studio with Jory, he sighed softly, clicking his tongue to his teeth.
"One of these days, I want someone to ask me a different question. I swear I'm running out of euphemisms for 'I was suicidal, I'm not now, and I don't know." He chuckled, shaking his head and running a hand through his hair, taking a steadying breath.
"I'm so turned around...I think we have a few hours before we're supposed to go to the book signing, and I'm starving." Or he should be starving; it had been a few hours since breakfast. "You know this city better than anyone. Where's a good place for lunch?"
Jory smiled as they left the Sirius XM's headquarters after Scott's radio interview had finished into the crisp fall air and looped her arm around Scott's, pulling him closer to her and snuggled into him. "Well, when you come out with your next best-selling book, they won't be able to because that chapter of your life will be closed.. Instead, they'll be asking 'Oh Scott, what was the inspiration for that one scene?" Jory laughed as her blonde hair floated around her face with the gust of wind. "Darling, you've been missing in action for years; everyone will be curious about why you're coming back out. But you do know you don't need to answer those questions, right?" She leaned up, kissing his lips briskly, and flagged down a cab. "Food? Oh yes, I know just the right place! I've been missing her Lemon bars for a year now." Millies, it was always that one place anyone could go. Jory even worked for Milly for a while; it was better than sleeping on the street, and Milly was such a warm soul. "I can't wait to introduce you to Milly.. she's gonna love you!" Jory pulled Scott into the Taxi and snuggled into him. "Millies Diner, Avenue B and East 10th, please." Jory gave instructions to the cab driver and settled back.
"You did wonderfully, baby, you really did, and I heard from Jocelyn that your book signing for tomorrow night is completely sold out! Isn't that exciting?" She leaned back and turned his face to hers. "Everyone's so excited about your new book... that's absolutely amazing." She knew he was nervous, but she wanted him to be excited that people were so enthusiastic about his new book, which debuted on the New York Times best-selling list and is still running at number 1. "You're gonna be just fine, I'll be there the whole time.." She leaned up, kissing him, and settled back. "It feels weird being back in New York." she was nervous about running to the other Scott or even worse.. Jeremy Donovan... but what could he do to her now..
"That day can't come soon enough." He chuckled, and it surprised even him when the sound was actually quite lighthearted. As they walked, he curled his hand around hers, holding her arm tightly under the crook of his arm and took a few moments to enjoy the crisp air, the smell of the city which was a bit pungent when they had first arrived but was now a mix of the oncoming fall, Jory's perfume and shampoo, a slight whiff of marijuana and something spicy from one of the many food trucks in downtown. He opened his eyes as she kissed him and held her closer against him before they got into the cab. He was still having the overstimulation issues —the lights, the sounds, the smells... the warm, musty smell of the taxi as they got in caught him a bit off guard, but he was happy for the soft mix of music coming from the radio. Jory's words seemed far and away, though he caught the 'sold out' and couldn't help but grimace a bit. She must have noticed because she had his face cupped in her warm hands, and he opened his eyes, focusing on her sweet face only inches in front of his own.
"I know...I should be happy and I am to some degree, but I sometimes feel like I'm watching the world flow around me and the only constant is holding my head above water at this moment." He was happy and proud. He had finally finished the Nightengale series, and there was a re-release planned for the earlier books in the series. He was meeting people who were giving him artwork, poems, jewelry, and all the things that they had been inspired to make because of his books. And all of it was beautiful and amazing, but meeting so many people was also exhausting; he felt like so many of them turned into faceless dolls that mocked reality. Maybe that was the imposter syndrome getting him again; he wasn't sure.
Forcing himself back into the moment and away from the flood of movement and sounds outside the car, he gave her hand a tight squeeze. "That alone instantly makes me feel better." He gently lifted her face to his own and kissed her deeply. "You seem a little distracted yourself...what's on your mind?" He knew being in NYC was a little jarring for her as well, considering how she was annexed out of here the last time and by the people she was with. Surely, all the people in the city, there wasn't much of a chance of running into the people from her past, was there?
The cab pulled up outside of a diner, and as Scott got out of the car, he couldn't help the strangled laugh that came from his lips. Whatever he had been expecting Milly's Diner to be, it was far from it. The outside of the building was painted deep forest green brick, with a splash of rainbow paint from a massive mural on the side facing the street that looked like it might be getting a fresh coat itself. There was a young man with long hair sitting beside the steps on a pink and blue plastic lawn chair with a sign in front of him that read SPECAILS. For a moment, Scott stared at it, wanting to say something about it being misspelled, but as he watched the kid, he erased the words with two of his spindly fingers and rewrote them correctly.
"I don't know what I was expecting, but this is....not it." He smiled and tipped the cab driver, offering his arm to Jory to walk in. There were every kind of flags someone could imagine hanging along the side and above the entrance. There was only one door, nothing particularly fancy about it. Still, one of the things that caught his attention was carved into an old wooden baluster above it, a series of angel sigils for the Archangels. Vines were growing up the side of the doorframe and over the other side as well, with bright pink and purple flowers growing from them.
As they walked in, the diner's outward appearance as just another place in the city faded away, and if he hadn't known he'd never been there, he felt as though he were walking into somewhere he spent every day of his life. The lighting was warm, with art on the walls and even strange statues sitting on the counter. The layout was L-shaped, with large windows on the side near the door, and along the wall were dark green vinyl booths. Across from that row was a long counter with stools in the same vinyl, with rainbow-colored stripes. The counter looked new but worn at the same time, and there was a series of glass-covered pastry dishes with lemon bars and a chocolate cake that looked deadly sitting there to entice. A young woman, younger even than the kid who had been outside, met them at the door and told them they could sit wherever they wanted, grinning brightly with a big gap between her teeth. As they came in, a rather plump woman with ruby red, curly hair came walking out of the kitchen and immediately went around the counter, shuffling quickly toward Jory and took her up in a big, jangly hug. On her wrists, she wore all manner of bracelets with charms and clunky beads, and she smelled like his grandmother had when he was a child, warm and comforting, a little like honey, chocolate, and cinnamon. Scott took a slight step to the side to avoid getting caught up in the grappling hug.
Milly beamed and squeezed Jory tightly before letting her go. "There you are, Sunshine! I've been waiting for you!" Scott raised an eyebrow. Milly was something almost out of a fairy tale, and there was nothing to convince him otherwise. The kids that worked for her were obviously homeless, and Jory had told him that she had a tendency to take in lost souls. If you mean danger, you can't come in Jory had said once. He had wondered at the time how this woman could ever know, but there was something in her eyes when she looked at you...she would know.
Jory smiled as she hugged Milly and turned looking at Scott. "Milly, I'd like to introduce you to Scott Montgomery. " She beamed and curled into Scott as Milly grinned and shook Scott's hand, sensing a hug might be a bit too much for him. Milly picked up a couple of menu's and showed them to a table in the back, the old time Vinyl diner seats still looked like new. The entire place always looked new, no sign of the age it really should be, Kind of like Milly. Sliding down and smiling at Scott as she looked at the Menu. "Can we get two old fashioned Cokes..." Milly grinned and walked off and Jory looked at Scott. "This place was one of my favorite places as a kid, I even worked here while I was in High School..." She smiled seeing the prices on the menu. Milly's had 2 kinds of Menu's one with Prices and one without, she grew up never seeing the Prices, but she could pay now and she's glad Milly saw that as well. "I recommend the Cheeseburgers, but the Melts are just as good. Actually everything in Milly's is delicious." Milly brought back two cold cokes with a scoop of Ice cream in them and a cherry. Jory's eyes lit up. "Oh Milly you remembered!" She beamed. "Of course Sunshine! Now Ill give you a few minutes to look at the menus.." Milly stopped and looked at Jory for a moment before Jory gave her head a little shake and Milly nodded walking off. Jory knew what she was gonna ask and she wasn't ready to open that box yet, she hadn't even gone to see her. "I think i'm gonna get the double cheeseburger and onion rings...best in New York.." She looked at Scott. "I'm so glad I get to bring you here.." She held her hand out to him for affection. Her eyes scanning the diner that hasnt changed as the Juke box in the back played 'La Isla Bonita' by Madonna. It was always playing music from the 70's and 80's. "I love how Milly hasn't changed anything since I was young.." Many nights had been spent sitting in here from the cold because the apartment she lived in with her mother didnt have heat. Her mother wasn't the best mother but she always made sure Jory was fed and warm. Jory did seem a bit twitchy though.
Something happens when you walk into Milly's, that's what Jory had told him about the place when they'd talked about it nearly a year ago. You walk in through the door, and whatever problem was sitting on your shoulders, weighing you down, taking you out of the world, it just lifts off and settles somewhere else. There's no way to explain it; the place just makes you feel light. From the description that she'd given him of the woman, Scott wasn't exactly sure what to expect, and his mind had built up this image of a kindly older woman, plump and smiling brightly even as the world burned. Milly's like an angel, an angel wearing bright red lipstick that almost matched her curly hair framed around her face, and a clickity-clackity sound that emitted from her wrists every time she moved them. Scott had followed Jory into the diner and was almost taken aback by how it was almost exactly as he'd imagined it, the old-fashioned jukebox with its rainbow liquid LED lights dancing along to the beat of the song.
Scott had let Jory order the drink for him and smiled a little as she talked animatedly about the menu differences, wondering if it was something Milly did intentionally or if it was some kind of magic. Being here and being with Jory, he felt more and more like there was a different way the world worked when it needed to. Looking at the coke when it was set down, he raised an eyebrow. Jory had two cherries on hers; his didn't have any. He looked up at the woman as she set them down, about to ask how she knew he didn't want the cherry, but she simply winked at him, and for a moment, he was left transfixed. There were a few other patrons in the diner, all of them seemed to be in their own worlds. A kid at the counter looked like he hadn't eaten anything in a month, and the sound he made when the cook behind the counter set down a double-decker grilled cheese and a bowl of soup. There was a businesswoman in the back with a steaming cup of coffee and what looked like the remains of a simple salad, though her eyes were fixed on the pies in the small, round glass display tray. A teen came over and set down a piece of French Silk Pie as if he'd read her mind. Or maybe it was Milly?
Scott turned his attention back to Jory and couldn't help but smile. Everyone here seemed to be on their own island, both within and without this strange little space. And she'd been right, when he walked in here, everything that cluttered up his mind put itself away into its own compartments to be dealt with later. Nothing mattered now, except for the young woman sitting in front of him. He leaned forward and took a drink of his soda before looking down at the menu. The prices were there, though they still seemed low. He only briefly glanced at it. It was standard diner fare: breakfast items on one side, available all day; desserts in the lower right of the menu; and the rest taken up by the grilled food, burgers, chicken sandwiches, melts, and whatever else you could want. He did notice there was no section for salad, but assumed that it was part of Milly's being; whatever you wanted, she would somehow produce it from her kitchen. He considered testing that theory but then decided better of it and simply nodded in agreement with Jory.
"Actually, that doesn't sound bad...though I'm curious about the melts...I've never had one I actually liked." They're always soggy right when you don't want them to be. From behind the linoleum counter, the honey-sweet voice came floating towards them.
"Sunshine, if they're ever soggy, you didn't get them from me." Scott blinked and had to take a moment, wondering if he'd actually said that part out loud, but after a second, he decided that he must have. As he watched Jory, she seemed antsy, and he reached across the table, taking her hand in his and squeezing it.
"Are you alright? You seem...what's the word...scattered?" He knew only what she had told him about being in New York; it was her home, she'd grown up with a distant mother, and after she died, Jory was left on her own. He wondered if she was concerned about the other Scott, or perhaps it was Jeremy that might be lurking somewhere in the periphery.