The Adventures of Michael Avery, Colt Vernon, and Lady Moonbeam, Chapter 1: Lost in Time and Space
These characters are partially my own, but they are also based on the fictionalized characters created by the narratives of Ben Schneider of Lord Huron.
Lord Huron's three major albums, Lonesome Dreams (2012), Strange Trails (2015), and Vide Noir (2018) and two cinematic (and soon three) sources: Products of the Universe With Marsha Tanley (2018), Live From the Whispering Pines (2021), and soon, Vide Noir (202X) are all the main sources I use, in addition to Ben Schneider's comic of The World Ender and the fictional author John Ranger Johnson. While it is widely speculated by many that the narratives told in Lord Huron's music may be connected, Schneider has not (and will not) give hints, but has gracefully encouraged fans to interpret the narratives to their own degrees.
All in all, while the characters may not be fully mine, the story is an original interpretation of the narratives played out in the music.
This story will be focusing on the narrative of Vide Noir with small connections to Strange Trails. Enjoy the journey, my cosmic drifters.
The full moon shone in the sky, casting her beams upon the calm Earth beneath her, creating an ethereal sight. Her presence brought the forest to life: the weeping willows now wistfully alight, the puddles flawlessly reflecting the moon and her faint flickering companions, and the birds chittering and chattering and singing their meek melodies. Nearby was The River, reflecting the stars and their pictorial stories written by history, flowing into the sky.
   Michael shivered from the breeze, wrapping his arms around himself to keep warm. He didnât have the slightest clue as to where he was going, but he remembered learning from camping to follow the river. Surely it would lead him somewhere. It was also quite calming.
   Eventually, the breezes became occasional, inclining him to let his arms rest at his sides. Feeling that he should be more grounded, he fought to silence his wandering thoughts. He noticed that the occasional breezes were more than just gusts on the air- thoughts that werenât his.
âFollow the Emerald Star!â
Upon hearing this, his heartbeat began to quicken, but the ambience of the air around him seemingly reminded him he was alone and safe. Nodding to himself, he continued his trek alongside The River, wondering if the stars would fall out of the sky at the end of time.
After a while, or however long a âwhileâ was, he came across a worn cabin that stood uphill, the vegetation making itself a home nestled along the sides with overgrown ivy hanging from the roof. He made his way up to it, not taking notice of the mysterious rock formations and carvings on the trees. As he got closer, he concluded that no one was home, as the lights were all out and the backdoor left ajar.Â
There wasnât anything too interesting inside, just a mess of things rather, and an open book on the floor full of odd symbols and scribbles he couldnât decipher. Something about an End? And a curse? His eyes wandered to a crystal ball that reflected a flash of green inside of it that made him turn to face a hallway concealed by a purple curtain. Moving the curtain aside, he could see at the end of the hall a green light shone from underneath a door, calling him to investigate.
Opening the door, he finds his wife, Crystal, laying on the bed sleeping. However, her face appears to be very pale, a bluish tint upon her once full and warm lips. Drawn to her, he takes her hand in his and feels himself leave his body knowing thereâs no possible way sheâd be alive with hands that cold.Â
Bringing a shaking hand up to her face to feel her cheek, his knuckle barely swipes her cheekbone before heâs burying his face into her nightgown sobbing in anguish. He mindlessly found his hand in hers once more, his fingers fiddling around her ring finger where her band would be, remembering she placed all her jewelry in her jewelry box before bedtime. He was sure she was wearing a pendant, too.
âJewelry boxâŠâ  He thought.Â
Laboriously, he lifted his head from her and shifted his gaze toward the source of the shining green light.Â
Slowly, he made his way around the bed and over to it. Out stretching his arm, he reached for it, slowing time. The box grew more luminous, almost blinding.
Behind him, he swore he heard Crystal call for him.
As soon as he turned around-
Michael shot up out of bed, his shirt clinging to him, drenched in sweat. A dream. A nightmare? A⊠Vision?
He shook his head. These dreams were probably normal- They had been quite common since she died a week ago, but none of them felt as real as this one had.
His eyes wandered over to her place in bed next to him. The pillow still neat, the blanket tucked into the side of the bed. Untouched. His hand ventured over to rub the empty place she used to lay in only to break down sobbing once more.
Rushing back inside, Colt ran his hands through his tousled hair.Â
âShe finally did it! She finally left!â His voice sounded maddening, even to himself it was dripping with sarcasm. He forced his fist into the wall, creating a new and inconvenient spot to hang a painting.
âMaybe, maybe you can put your fuckinâ med degree there, huh?â He drew in ragged breaths, popping the cap off a Stella and chugging it down.
âBet sheâll never call,â he flew up the stairs, his feet slamming down on the wood as he skipped the steps to their room- her room, throwing the door open.Â
âBet you just love having this big room to yourself, huh?â He tore the blanket off her bed, then the pillows followed by the sheets. Then he went to her dresser and rifled through its contents, searching for something that he soon realized wasnât there.Â
He fussed and swore, sitting on the bed with his head in his hands, panicking as the anger bled away. He tried his best to keep it together.Â
After a minute, he rested his head on his hands, held up by his elbows on his knees. There had to be something in her room that she left behind for him. Her pity was just smothering. No wonder she left him.
He noticed a painting on the wall was slightly crooked, which was odd, because nothing in her room was ever out of place given how much of a neat-freak she was. He slowly rose from the bed and went over to it.
He framed his hands around it to straighten it, but found it to be difficult. He jumped back when the painting came unhinged from the nail in the wall, crashing to the ground.
From it, papers whirred across the floor.
Shocked, he froze for a moment. What was all of this? He reached down to grab one of them.
It read something about residency, which sounded somewhat familiar to him. He hurriedly sunk down to the floor and shuffled around the pile looking for more.
One said something about UWMC. Under it read, âThe University of Washington Medical Center Congratulates you!â She had been granted a spot in their residency program.Â
His heart sank. Washington was on the other side of the country. Hundreds, if not a thousand miles west, way out there. What ends of the Earth did she go to to get the money to fly, let alone live out west? She was chest deep in loans enough as it was!
He scrambled up off the floor and over to the bathroom. He briefly winced when he knocked his knee against the doorframe, thankful for the adrenaline hindering the pain.
He threw open the mirror cabinet and ripped out the false backing. Nothing.
She took his cash stash.Â
A thousand dollars he had saved from the diner.Â
He took a deep breath that rattled his insides and slammed the mirror back so hard it shattered.
After a few minutes passed, he brought himself to exit the bathroom and stare at the papers on the floor. Blankly, he reached down for one to find it was a confirmation receipt for a plane ticket leaving for Seattle the next day. He folded it up and shoved it in his pocket.
He would follow her west, he decided.Â
It only took him a short time before he packed a bag for about a weeks-worth of clothing and supplies. He tossed it in the car and grabbed another Stella. He would drive to The Diner and inform his manager that he would be taking the next week off starting tomorrow, no if, buts, or ands about it.
Simply pulling up to The Diner made his blood boil. The place was packed, which meant the diner itself was likely full with a wait and not a second to spare from his manager.
âFuck,â he swore, slamming his fists on the wheel.
He thought for a moment. He could wait out the rush in his car and then go in, or, go inside and fight his way to the bar. Reaching for his Stella, he found it was empty.
Sighing in defeat, he yanked his key out of the ignition and lumbered out, lazily throwing the door shut.Â
Making his way through the parking lot, he passed a black Mustang in impeccable condition. From the rear view mirror hung a pair of black fuzzy dice with green dots. The license plate read, âEND3RBBâ. Odd.
An exiting couple held the door open for him as he entered murmuring a quiet âthank youâ with a dip of his head.Â
Inside, the diner was buzzing and bustling with action: the pianist hammering the ivories, severs winding in and out of the crowd, the weekly gossip bouncing off the walls, and the townâs biker gang occupying The Box, a large table enclosed by booths and walls with a privacy curtain which was currently pulled back.
Glancing at the bar, Colt spotted a seat calling his name.
Once he sat down, he gently tapped a bar and caught the eye of the bartender, Johnnie, a young one that freshly turned 21 a few weeks ago.
âHey Johnnie, howâs the first Friday night going?â Colt ginned when the poor thingâs face reddened. Johnnie gulped nervously.
âQuite difficult,â he squeaked with a nod. âWhiskey?â
âOn the rocks,â Colt pointed a finger gun at him playfully, Johnnie shooting back before turning around to help another customer.
Relaxing a little more, Colt rested his head on his hand and let his eyes wander around the diner. Everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves on this Friday evening, which he felt was better than not given his situation.
At a table near him sat a lonely looking man who was aimlessly in the direction of the pianist, lost in the melody while mindlessly fiddling with his wedding band. He wore a black tank top with a simple cartoon green alien head on it.
Seeing that he was in the manâs line of sight, Colt made an effort to try catching his attention, succeeding after a few tries.Â
âNice shirt!â Colt called to him over the sudden growing commotion. He looked confused, likely because he couldnât understand what he said.
Before Colt could repeat himself, a roughed-up fellow was thrown onto the manâs table. Colt watched as he jumped back in alarm, making eye contact with him once more. Cautiously, Colt waved him over, relieved to see him comply.
Sitting down next to him, he asked, âSorry, whatâd you say?â
Colt smiled. âNice shirt,â he jutted his chin in the manâs direction.
The man grinned. Holding out his hand, he introduced himself. âAvery, Michael Avery.â
Chuckling, Colt shook his hand, saying, âDouble-oh-seven fan, are we?â Michael laughed. âColt Vernon. You come around here often?â
Michael shrugged, reflexively reaching for something, perhaps his drink?
Johnnie came back with Coltâs whiskey, asking Colt if his new friend wanted anything. Michael had seemed to be watching the scene unfold, a biker beating the poor fellowâs face to a pulp.
âA shot of Patron Silver, I think. Salt and lime, too.â Looking back to Michael after Johnnie walked away, he thought he could use a little kick.Â
He shifted his gaze back to the biker and the fellow, now noticing a pair of bikers appear to remove the bigger biker from him. Colt had recognized them but never learned their names, he just saw them hanging around The Diner often when he worked. They always requested Johnnie as their server when he was one.
Leaning over to Michael, Colt said, âThis doesnât happen often.â Michael nodded.
âI didnât think so, Redmayneâs not one to pick fights or let them break out period, makes them look petty.â
Colt raised his eyebrows. âYou know these guys?â
Michael turned his head back to him. âWell, who doesnât? Theyâre the staple of the town- quite notorious.âÂ
Colt chuckled at his response, soon laughing when he watched Michael grab the shot of Patron from Johnnie, throwing it back without missing a beat. Johnnieâs eyes widened in surprise, awkwardly handing him the lime. Michael shook his head.
âNah, Iâm good.â He turned to Colt, winking, âGood choice.â
âYou looked like you needed something stronger than a vodka cranberry.â
Michael squinted. â...What makes you say that?â He then waved Johnnie back over for two more shots. Colt raised his eyebrows.
âWell,â Colt started. He hesitated. He just met this guy, did he really want to screw it up?
âYouâre thinking too hard.â Michael gestured to Johnnie handing him a shot while pouring Michaelâs. Rolling his eyes, Colt reluctantly grabbed it.Â
âHavenât even finished my whiskey, but youâre right.â He quickly threw it back and desperately grabbed for the lime Johnnie was handing him. He bit into it and winced as Michael threw back his second.
âSo, uh, you looked absolutely lonely and depressed.â He let out a sigh of relief when Michael grinned.
âYouâre right, itâs been tough. My wife died a week ago.â Colt nearly spit out his whiskey mid-sip. Michael waved him off, as if he were asking him not to worry.
âDonât worry, Iâm not one for pity, anyway. Actually, being here made me forget the feeling a little.â He said, nodding.
Colt pursed his lips in thought. âHow so?â
Michael jutted his chin in the direction of The Box where the bikers, the World Enders, were sitting.
âRedmayne over there helped me meet my wife.â His eyes didnât falter when Colt guffawed. He seemed to be fixated on something. âSure, he gave some pretty color to my face and a nice chipped tooth, but I had an angel on my arm. Or, rather, an angel hauling my ass out before he could string me up!â Michael laughed wholeheartedly at the thought. âI had only been talking to her for an hour and the pain in her eyes was as if I were a part of her being hurt, I never felt so.. Cared for.â
Colt smiled. Michael seemed to know the true depths of love, something he wished he knew himself. âHowâd the fight break out?â
âWell, uh, letâs just say Iâm a real cocky guy when Iâm drunk. Or so I was,â He shrugged with a grin before tapping the bar and signaling for another shot. âCrystal, my wife, knew Redmayne before me, but they werenât ever a thing, yanno. He liked her, sure, but it was easy to see she wasnât so fond of his style of living compared to my own. She really wanted a child and knew that a stable source of income would be best.â
Colt motioned to continue, trying to remind him exactly how he got his ass kicked. âRight, right, uh. Well, it was pretty simple. It seemed one of the little Enders was whispering some white lie to Redmayne to piss him off more than he already was, to get him to walk over, yanno. And, eventually, he did, I suppose because I put a hand on her arm and she jumped a little. I was telling her a story, and it wasnât to, like, flirt or anything, just for effect.â He frowned when Colt made an âoh reallyâ face. âAlright, yeah yeah sure I did it to flirt, point is, it got hot-shotâs ass over here.âÂ
âOnce he gets over, I cut him off, sayinâ, âbiker guy got a problem?â and he goes, âbiker guy does have a problem.â and Crys rolls her eyes and crosses her arms all hoity-toity knowinâ whatâs about to go down.â Michael mimicked her posture, dramatically crossing his arms complete with a pout.
âAnyway, he did look at her briefly, and I swear, I saw some hesitation in those eyes, like he didnât wanna disappoint her by actinâ like some school boy.â He downs the third shot. âBut, like a sucker asking for it, I grinned and went, âI ainâ afraid to fight, lesâ step outside and Iâll show ya why,â and he just yanked my ass on the floor by my collar and slugged a heavy shot, right here,â Michael pointed to his left jaw. âPretty purple bruise for a bit, heh.â
âI said, âYanno, you donât hit half bad!ââ Michael downed another shot. âHe knocked my sorry ass out with the second hit.â Wiggling his eyebrows, he slid both empty shot glasses aside and sat back.
âSo, like, is Redmayne your enemy, or something? Like, you kinda did steal his girl. How come she chose you over him after that? Besides, you know, the stable income stuff.âÂ
Michael shrugged again. âCrys and I were just simply havinâ a conversation. I got tipsy, sure, but I wasnât gonna try anything, I wasnât even flirting with her hardcore, just chatting. She was very interesting from the start. I never wanted to stop talking to her, even if I couldnât form a complete and comprehensible sentence. I guess Redmayne was jealous of that. And that biker pushinâ his buttons.â
Colt nodded slowly and sipped his whiskey. He thought Michael to be very charismatic, but also very wise; learning from valuable experiences in a way.
âI was the fool, but she was my fleur.â Michael smiled dreamily. âNothing on earth couldâve matched her beauty.â He rested his head on his hand and stared back at the pianist who was gracefully composing a softer melody to match the calming atmosphere. Glancing around, Colt noticed more empty tables.
âSo, what about you?â Michaelâs sudden question brought him out of his thoughts.
âYou, whatâs eating you?â
âUh,â he looked around, then decided heâd need another whiskey, so he flagged Johnnie down. âMy fiance left me.â Michael made an âoâ shape with his mouth.
âHow.. how long ago?â
Colt quickly downed the rest of his whiskey. âA few hours ago.â
Michael sat back and let out a low whistle. âOuch. Sorry to hear it, man.â He watched as Colt took a long sip of his second glass.
âSorry to ruin the bromance, but weâre poppinâ shop here in 20, mind if I get that tab?â Michael nodded and reached for his wallet, but Colt beat him to it.
âOi, I coulda gotten it, I practically drank more money.â Colt chuckled.Â
âSure, but I get a discount, I work here.â
âOh, really? Ok, whatâs a man gotta do to get a drink for free, then?â
âHmmm,â Coltâs eyes wandered around the bar to the windows. A brightly-colored street sign caught his eye.Â
âAccompany me to see a psychic?â He watched Michaelâs eyes widen slightly.
âYâmean Moonbeam? I never seen her, but I know Crys did a couple times. Interesting things I heard about her, but never seen her myself.â
âWell,â Colt quickly signed the receipt Johnnie slid on the counter and slipped his card back into his wallet. âWhy not go see her? She might be able to light us a flame in this dark night.â
âAight, aight, Iâm for it,â Michael stood from his stool. âIâm off tomorrow anyway. I do know, however, that her place ainât off some road, itâs in the woods near here.â
Colt stood up and took a last sip of his whiskey. âI think I can manage, I got a flashlight in my car.âÂ
As they were leaving, Michael clapped Colt on the shoulder and said, âIt glows in the dark, too.â
Good evening, my fellow cosmic drifters. Thank you for taking the time to read the official debut of the return of AMACVLM. It means a lot to me.
To make this more engaging for those who enjoy the Lord Huron lore and know their stuff, comment down below how many song references you can find. I've ranked them like so: (This is better done in wattpad!)
1: easy, word-for-word song lyric
2: moderate, some paraphrasing involved, but can be connected to a specific song lyrics
3: difficult, not word-for-word, complete paraphrasing- a reference, rather. I'd be impressed if you got one of these!
Comment on the lines in each chapter where you find them and perhaps a special prize may come your way.
Other than that, thank you, again, for reading. I hope I'll be able to keep up this time, seeing now that I have a storyline to follow, complete from beginning to end. Please understand, though, I do have other things in life that need attending besides writing.
Enjoy your evenings, and I'll see you on the astral plane.