😀😟😭🏡 for the writing ask thing! If that's too many just pick which ones you want :)
too many? I’m always down to talk about my wips.
…that said I dont have much to choose from in this rewrite of RT&T yet but I did my best?
Erme had brought me to work that afternoon as well, busying themself in the arcade while I waited tables, racking up tickets, though I had no idea why. I found them at Star Crash once I was clocked out for the evening, staring intently at the first level screen still. I couldn’t help but grin as I approached.
“How’s it going?” I wanted to know.
“This game is nonsense,” they declared, letting go of the joystick and not even bothering to watch their ship crash. “There’s no winning.”
I laughed and pointed to the screen. “Then what do you call that?” Among the high scores were several by the initials DGF, including the number one slot. Erme waved a dismissive hand at the screen before snatching up the two tickets the dispenser spat out. “It’s strategy.”
“I’m the god of luck, not strategy,” they reasoned.
“Then maybe you should just stick to claw machines,” I added with a laugh.
“My mom died a couple of years ago, so it’s been…a thing.” Not to mention the fact that my father was apparently the king of the afterlife now…
Cain whistled low. “That’s heavy stuff.”
I laughed, embarrassed. “Yeah, sorry, that’s not really what you were asking. It’s just, that’s the main reason I wanted to take this class.”
“What class?” He asked me, looking…genuinely confused.
“Two-twenty-five?” I reminded him. “Death and Dying?”
“Oh,” he laughed. “That’s kind of funny.”
That didn’t really seem like the right reaction here. “Um…why?” I asked carefully.
“Because,” he began with an apologetic smile, and pulled a stupid big knife from inside his coat. “I am here to kill you, Daisy.”
“Don’t get your hopes up,” they warned me. “Finding out you’re half-god is a life-ruiner. I wouldn’t wish going full-god on anyone.”
“So…what happened? With you saving his life?” I asked, changing the subject. It was pretty clear they didn’t want to talk about it any more.
“I rescued him from his shitty Olympic dad’s attempt to murder him.”
“Who was his dad?” I asked, without really thinking about it. Might be a good idea to find out who to try to avoid, though.
They hesitated again, studying my face for a reaction before answering. “Pauly.” I drew my hand away, eyes wide in fear and disbelief. Pauly, my sweet, quiet, deer-in-the-headlights regular pizzeria customer, had tried to kill his own son? “We’ve all been around for a very long time,” Erme explained carefully, leaning back on their hands. “Done a lot of things we’re not proud of. Pauly, though, he’s trying his best. That’s why he took this guard-dog duty, watching over you and your sister.”
🏡 your favorite piece of description –
(for context, Daisy hasn’t learned yet that while Erme is very femme at the moment, they are, in fact, genderfluid. she finds out a few lines later and quickly switches pronouns in her narration )
Until one day, he wasn’t. Alone, that is.
Instead of a book, his attention was occupied by his just-as-if-not-more-gorgeous companion, lounging too comfortably across from him in the booth. She had the same golden glow as my regular, the same curls, though hers bounced carelessly around her shoulders as she laughed at something he said, the same type of tattoo (though hers was a kind of minimalist golden staff, something that looked like something I should recognize with snakes and wings). Physicality was about where their resemblance ended, though. She just had so much more confidence, and it showed in everything: her relaxed demeanor, her mischievous smile, even her sense of fashion. There was no way I could have pulled off a matching striped crop top and capri pants, and yet here she was, literal perfection in my dirty arcade restaurant. I couldn’t tell if I wanted to date her or be her.
It took a moment to gather the courage to go take their order, wondering how I was ever going to make it through my shift with her looking like she did.
