On Christmas Eve, the doorbell rings, but nobody is there when it is opened. Only two packages lay on the ground, one addressed to Cole and one to Tybalt. Cole's contains a lump of coal - oh, no, it's a jewelry case looking like one, with a beautiful watch inside! And Tybalt finds a decanter in his - a rare model he'd been looking for for a while. No note shows the sender, but deep within Tybalts box lays a single, small coffee bean.
Cole Rene normally wouldn’t have scoffed at a Christmas gift. But Cole Rene was not normally corrupted to all hell. He tossed away the Decanter without a second thought, the glass shattering. His own broken watch soon followed, as did the coal-looking case the new watch was in. However as soon as he set the time on his fancy new timepiece, an odd feeling washed over him. He realized with horrible clarity what he had done over the last few days. And even worse, what he had done that morning.
There wasn’t much time to spare- he had to fix things! Well. Relatively. With a snap of his fingers he rewound time around the broken decanter as he ran out the door.
Meanwhile, someone rang Cocoa and Coffee’s doorbell!
Coffees fingertips wandered over the lid of the tin can Cocoa had left in the kitchen for her one last time. A batch of cookies just for her. She was almost frustrated at the generosity of her host.
So the ringing at the door was a welcome distraction. Probably Announcer, it would be like him to come hours early like this and screw up all attempts made at preparing a good Christmas Party.
So she opened the door without a second thought.
As the door opened, the blue cloaked figure bowed low, black hair falling over his eyes. “Good morning miss…Candy…?” He didn’t seem too sure of what the young woman’s name was anymore.
She hesitated for a moment, incredibly startled inside but trying to keep up the collected facade. Instead of answering is quizzical tone, she just made a gesture to the button of the doorbell, which was labelled with “C. Cane”.
"Mister Neravulpe. I thought you would prefer for me to stay out of your vicinity - I have tried respecting that decision." Maybe he’d remember that he didn’t want to see her. Maybe he’d go away. She didn’t need unpleasant memories right now and she *certainly* didn’t need pandimensional memories either.
"I would, but I’m here on special orders." Tybalt straightened up before leveling his gun at Coffee’s head. "Very specific ones, too. The message I was told to say is… "He loves you too.""
Her eyes got a sad glimmer, but she didn’t flinch.
"Ah…" That is just cruel, Cole. Cruel to him. "Mister Rene asked you to end my life then?" She relaxed.
"So be it, then. When you return, if he wears a new watch… Would you kindly tell him he should not make a fuss over this? I brought this upon myself. If he does not, you need not forward my message." With a slow motion to not alarm him, she rested her hand against her chest. Behind her thin, knit jacket, exactly there, a letter from another dimension was in this spot. From another time.
"And please don’t blame yourself.", she whispered to the Tybalt who was probably watching right now, if the letter was true. "It is not your fault."
Tybalt simply nodded before pulling the trigger. However, half- concealed by the bang, was another voice, and a flash of green appeared between Tybalt and Coffee.
"Stop-STOP!"
The nod coaxed a little, sad smile out of Coffee. Was that a reaction to her last words? Then green blinded her and finally, she flinched, shocked as she recognised the voice.
"Cole?" Oh god, NO! "You better NOT just got yourself killed you fool!", it blurted out of her.
"Eeeeeeein retrospect I probably should have just teleported you, huh? Ahahahaha… Hindsight- you would think I had it, right?" Cole laughed shallowly, blood slowly seeping from a wound just below his collarbone.
"COLE" Tybalt nearly dropped his gun when he rushed to check Cole’s injury.
"I’m fine, it’s just pain."
"Yes you should have. Ugh, you are such an idiot!", she hissed, walking back into her apartment. She returned a short time later with a small jar that emitted a strong, flowery scent, a tweezer, bandages and a desinfectant usually used to clean hands. "Move over, Tybalt. I will fix it.", she commanded, opening the jar and putting some of the balm inside onto the bandage before cleaning her hands and the tweezer.
"Guys, really, I got it-" Cole insisted before Tybalt shushed him.
"Do I have to tie you to a chair?"
"No, really-"
"SIT. DOWN." Tybalt insisted, looming over the Frenchman. "And WHY are you caring about him?" Tybalt snapped at Coffee
Coffee quickly slid down Coles shirt. “I do not. He is an idiot and for all intents on purposes, he should bleed out right here and now.”, she replied plucking the bullet from Coles wound with a quick, dextrous motion. It hurt nontheless.
"But." She pressed the bandage onto the wound before wrapping it tightly around him.
"He is your favourite idiot and therefore I am afraid that I can not let him get his just desserts." The pain quickly vanished, and the bleeding stopped almost the very instant the balm touched the wound.
There was a cornucopia of French curses from Cole and an insistence of “You know I could have just rewound time and fixed things!”
Tybalt, on the other hand, rolled his eyes. “I just tried to kill you, why do you care about my idiot?”
"And stop calling me that, I saved your girlfriend’s life, you dick!"
Coffee quickly turned her head away and gave Cole a little condemning slap against the forehead to hide her embarassment.
"You did not do it out of your own volition.", she replied to Tybalt and to Cole: "I am not his girlfriend, stop it!"
"Okay. And I’m not an idiot." Cole replied.
"I mean the first time," Tybalt clarified with a scowl. "When you broke into my house. Besides- you act as if I can’t turn down Cole’s request."
"If you were not an idiot, we would not constantly have to save your sorry behind, mortal.", she replied to Cole, before scooping up her things and standing up.
"You did not try to kill me. You merely threatened me and tried to protect your territory and companion. Again, caused by my own mistakes." And about the other thing he said, she sighed.
"Maybe you could have. But I would not have wanted to risk you do it. Not in… the state Cole was in."
"What state."
"EHEHEHEHE ABOUT THAT," Cole smiled, though it looked more like a grimace.
"…What am I not getting."
Coffee just brought the things back into her apartment, leaving the explanation to Cole. Okay, maybe she’d worried about him a little, but that didn’t mean she had to CODDLE him now, right?
No, of course not, he was at full power. And awkwardly trying to explain the situation. In French, because fuck English. Tybalt, however, kept glancing at Coffee, somewhat confused.
When she came back, she leaned in the doorframe, frowning slightly about the fact that she barely understood anything.
She’s gonna understand less- Tybalt’s now arguing back in Italian. Apparently when he’s frustrated, and not holding anything, he talks and gesticulates with his hands.
Seemed like the gentlemen were forgetting about her possibly wanting to understand the conversation, so she cleared her throat.
Both men paused and looked up before going back to arguing, Tybalt now gesturing AT Coffee.
"This sound was to indicate that if you insist on talking about me, I would rather you did so in a language I actually understand.", she hissed, looking positively sour now.
"We were arguing about whether to switch the conversation to English," Cole frowned. "Tybalt doesn’t want to."
"It does not CONCERN her!"
"IT DOES SO."
"Cole is right, it does. I am responsible for his shift in personality, for the misunderstanding between you and me, and therefore indirectly even for your murder attempt on me just now. I would say that is enough meddling to be concerned very, very much."
"Then what about the timeline stuff Cole was talking about?"
"Still involved!"
"Yes, I suppose so. I am a pandimensial being of what you would probably call demonic origins. Since my powers were based on probability, fortune, and by extension, fate - I am more or less interconnected with all versions of myself across the multiverse."
"Which is also why I knew so much about your home…", she murmured, in an almost somewhat embarassed manner.
"Is, was, will be, lives, lived, will live," Cole stated, crossing his arms with a pout.
"….no."
Coffee raised her eyebrows, unimpressed. “You know, Cocoa often enough asks her pet nuisance to play games for her to watch. I recognise that quote. Nice attempt at seeming clever though, Cole.” She turned her face to Tybalt.
"Yes. But do not worry, I am not under the illusion that you would like me in this universe just because you do so in others. And I am not bitter because of it. Having one person in your life who meddles with fate for your sake should be more than enough." Her hand wandered to her chest again for a brief moment, before she tried to mask the gesture by brushing hair behind her ear.
"I mean no, I don’t believe you."
"What quote?" Cole blinked owlishly at Coffee, confused.
She hesitated.
"What? Why not?" She made a gesture to Cole. "I do not mean to imply that you should believe *me*, but you would usually lap up every word of your protegee as the truth, would you not?" She shot Cole a short glance, then shrugged. "Not important…"
"Because then that implies the entire situation was a jealousy based grudge match and that is STUPID. I do not date idiots. Ever. In any timeline."
"To Coles defense, he genuinely was not himself." Coffee shifted somewhat uncomfortably. "He was under the influence of a kind of curse that corrupted him. The Cole of the past few days carried in him little more than a faint shadow of his usual self. He probably only stil felt that you were important to him and that he was a tad possessive of you. But he did lose the emotional connection to why and how… and to the fact that your happiness was more important to him than having you to himself." She smirked into Cole’s direction. "He IS an idiot nontheless. As for me, I did not even plan on opposing him. I know that he is more important to you than I am in any dimension, so that was not jealousy, I corrupted him for my own reasons, and the same is true for everything else I did."
"…..still stupid." Tybalt frowned. "I don’t date stupid." Wow, I think most of that explanation went over his head.
"As far as I know, you dated him." She pointed at Cole. "So even disregarding the past few days, that fact alone proves your statement wrong."
"…I’m not gay."
"….thanks, Tybalt." Cole rolled his eyes. Talk about denying the past.
The corners of her mouth twitched, but she could mask the little laugh she’d almost given with a faked cough.
"As far as I am concerned, this was all some sort of stupid ploy and you both are stupid."
"Well, if those are terms your mind can handle better with the limits imposed on it by your mortality, so be it. I had my reasons and I will surely not disclose them to you just to convince a random mortal that I am not stupid. As if I would care."
Stupid was better than disgusting by far, after all.
"…I still don’t like you."
"Yes, I heard that the first time you said it. Or rather, yelled it at me." Her expression stayed unchanged, her looking straight into his eyes as if she expected him to say something of more importance.
Cole muttered something in French and Tybalt firmly stepped on his toe. “I said I DON’T like you, Cole is a liar.”
Aw crap, this time the fuzzy feeling actually happened for a moment and even managed to reach her face more quickly than her hand could to hide her smile. “I suppose your ‘best friend’ does not know you very well then, what with him letting you forward this little message to me and all.” She raised one eyebrow. “You know that he meant you, right?”
"That makes no sense, I hate you."
Cole scoffed. “Cute. Multiverse theory or not.”
Coffee was glad that her hand already covered most of her mouth, because smiling was happening now and she had spontaneoulsy forgotten how to stop it from happening again. “I said I heard you. It is strange how much you insist on repeating it though. One could almost call it a… suspiciously specific denial.”
"I don’t even KNOW you."
"I can fix that."
"Cole, stop. You can see that Tybalt is clearly very uncomfortable with the idea of taking a liking to me." Now her tone was obviously that of a person joking with an old friend, not that of someone with a lot of emotional distance between them and the men in front of them anymore.
"Then why did he ask you out to dinner? He still hasn’t thrown out that meal. Or taken it out of the Temporal Stasis he asked me to put it in."
"Oooooh, the attorney unveils some very damning new evidence! What do you say to refute his point, Mister Neravulpe?"
"I don’t waste good food." Tybalt frowned.
"You have not eaten it either, though."
"I’ve been a bit BUSY."
"Too busy for sustenaince?"
"Yes."
"Tybalt that is bullshit."
"Says who, YOU?"
"No, your body. You do not look like someone who has not eaten in days."
"You don’t know what my body looks like." Tybalt frowned. Cole snickered at that answer.
"Someone more desperate than me could interpret that as an offer to find out, you know?"
"I didn’t say "Do you want to see." I said you don’t."
"You do wear pretty tight clothing, you know…"
”I do not!” Tybalt looked scandalized
She just brushed the cloak aside to reveal his top, before poking his chest lightly. “Yes, looks pretty tight.”
Tybalt swatted her hand away. “It’s a muscle shirt, thanks. And it fits FINE. Don’t touch. ”
"Yes.", she confirmed. "Very FINE indeed."
"Oh shush you, don’t you have a thing for bartender?" Tybalt tried to deflect the attention.
"Why, is that the only thing stopping you?" Coffee asked with a raised eyebrow.
"No!" Tybalt protested.
She chuckled, her cool facade finally breaking for good to let a tiny bit of warmth shine through. A small attempt at saving face was made by clearing her throat again, but Tybalt had already seen what effect he had on her.
"I… I should go finish the preparations for the party…", she said, trying to hide her embarassment as she headed back into the house.
Hades (your character is visited by my character’s ghost) (Film Noir AU can’t stop won’t stop)
After the fire, they couldn’t find enough of Kitiara to fill an envelope, and Coffee didn’t hear about it for weeks. The crime lady club owner assumed that Kitiara was sulking after their latest fight, and that eventually they’d be back on speaking terms. And for a week, that was fine. After two weeks, Coffee was starting to worry. She ordered her goons to drive by Kiti’s house, but none of them saw anything unusual. It was only after two and a half dreadful, worried weeks that one of Kitiara’s men (the white-haired one who’d always been close enough to know or suspect their relationship) informed Coffee of Officer Laverne’s tragic demise.
In the first second, it was as though she hadn’t heard him. Instead, she was furious that he had the gall to approach her, a privilege only allowed to one Policewoman. But the news hit her in the core, the way a sledgehammer hits an apple. Her face barely seemed to change, and she was almost tranquil as she responded, “Who did this? Who should I enact my revenge on?”
The Officer— Eli, perhaps?— glanced down at her white knuckles bulging out of delicate, clenched, trembling fists, and then back to her face. It was a trait he shared with Kitiara; not many other policemen were willing to look Cocoa in the eye. “It was a fire. An accidental fire, in an apartment block. She was going in further and further— higher and higher, pulling people out. They think she was on the top floor when the whole core of the building collapsed,” He sighed, weary from his own grief, and wary of Coffee’s, “It was nobody’s fault. She saved 40 people. Nobody is to blame.”
Coffee looked away, trying to understand the bigger shape of it, how she could take action, how she could eviscerate an accidental apartment fire. Cold rage was crystallizing in her sadness, “Why wasn’t I told about this? Why doesn’t the public know? How did I not hear about this earlier?” She was spitting now, standing, emotions bubbling up out of her.
The policeman stood his ground, despite the terrifying image of Coffee’s rage, and the violent movements of her henchpeople, “We were told not to,” he said, quietly.
"What?" Coffee hissed.
"They’ve quieted down the whole incident, pulled strings in the press, everything. We’ve been told not to tell anyone what happened."
"Why?"
Eli took a long breath, shoulders tightening slightly; “We were told not to tell anyone because Kit— Officer Laverne’s death could cause unpredictable responses in the criminal underground.” He stared at her impassively, and she could tell that she was the reason nobody had heard about Kitiara dying.
"Thank you," Coffee said, through gritted teeth, "For telling me."
He nodded, and left. Coffee waited a few moments, staring at the walls of her office. She stood suddenly, gathering up her cloak, purse, and scarf. “Stay here,” she said to her henchmen, “I’ll be at the dive.”
There are rules of drinking and owning a drinking establishment. The first is obvious; don’t get drunk at your own watering hole. Not if you want the continued respect of your workers. It can be fun to get drunk at a rival’s, as long as you can still maintain a modicum of control. However, the type of drinking that Coffee was hoping for would most likely leave her vulnerable to Empri or the Bartender. So she chose option 3; the dive bar.
It was a terrible place that stank of tobacco. There were antlers on the walls and every surface was covered in a centimeter of grime. A one-eyed bartender stood behind the bar, rubbing a glass with a dishcloth that was probably transferring more dirt to the glass than cleaning it. But the liquor was strong enough to kill any bacteria you might have in your system, and anything else it touched besides. Coffee strode to the bar, ordered one of everything, and promptly got to work.
The clock was striking 2am, and the bar was empty. Even the bartender had disappeared somewhere. Coffee stared at the green bottle in her hands and wondered when she had finished it. She closed her eyes, wearily, listening to the distant cars, and smelled the sea—
Coffee jolted up, and the bottle smashed against the floor, shattering into a thousand tiny stars. That smell, like salt and cold air and fog and waves, so desperately familiar, but completely impossible. She tried to steady her breathing, but part of her wanted to fill her lungs with that scent, to fill herself to the brim with the impossible presence of Kitiara again. A prickling on her neck brought her to realize that someone was sitting right behind her. She stood up straight, spine cold, staring straight ahead, not daring to hope—
"Hello, sweetheart."
"You’re dead. I know you’re dead. They buried you."
"What, you thought I’d leave without saying goodbye?" Her laugh— her laugh— filled up the empty bar, “How well do you know me?”
"This isn’t real. I’ve had too much to drink."
"It’s as real as you want it to be, darling," her voice said, “I just had to say it— one last time—”
"You’re so— don’t you dare!”
"Coffee, I love you…"
"Don’t tell me, show me! If you loved me, then why did you play hero in a burning building! Why did you get yourself killed? Why did you leave me all alone?" Coffee felt her eyes drifting back, but she didn’t want to look. She had the awful impression that if she saw Kitiara, she’d never hear from here again, "You’re a cop, damnit! You’re supposed to know that material evidence trumps a witness every time!"
Kitiara said nothing, and Coffee felt an awful hollow feeling in the pit of her stomach, like she’d felt after that argument and Kitiara had stormed out of her office, like she’d wasted her last few minutes with someone being angry and bitter and of course she was alone. Unwelcome tears crept up her throat, and she forced them down out of habit, even though nobody would see them. She felt warm air and movement behind her, and turned.
"Coffee, I know you have something to do with my missing men-- I'm not messing around."
"Officer Kiti, darling, you're always so suspicious of me. Don't you ever wonder if I could help you?"
((film noir rumblr au; club-owner Coffee enlists the help of Private Dick HC to find her missing twin sister, Cocoa. The prime suspects? The rival club across the road, Empri's, with its mysterious owner and amazing Bartender. Along the way, they interfere in the police business of Officer Kitiara, and blackmail into helping them enlist the willing assistance of the downtown lawyer, Cole. There was more in this conversation, but I can't quite remember what else....))
