We deserved to have Laura wearing Travis’s shirt and not that dress . Thank you @aluvsblu for taking my comm and @cbrcbbr whose design of Laura has driven me insane <3
Over a week goes by and Laura is starting to wonder if she didn’t imagine the whole thing.
True, when she returned to work and asked her co-workers if they’d noticed her abrupt departure, only to receive blank stares and confusion, everyone telling her they had no idea what she was talking about, because she had not been scheduled to work that day, it was troubling. Add to that, when she checked the schedule for that day it didn’t even have her name listed anywhere on it, well yes, it was certainly odd.
But in the end, it didn’t change facts. The facts being that her being swept away by Death and informed that her visions are causing him problems was just absurd. Wild. Insane and insanity has always been a concern considering her visions. Laura toyed with it on and off, seeing someone about a brain scan, but considering her lack of insurance and general funds, it’d never been a truly viable option.
Not to mention the visions in and of themselves don’t really affect any aspect of her life enough to cause problems. For one thing, no one ever seems to notice when she has them and for another, she’s had them long enough now that she can usually push through them and continue on as if nothing happened, so, yeah, insanity is a concern but not a valid one.
Laura’s mental health is, in her opinion, strong enough that she’s simply continued on with her life like everyone else. Surely this latest episode was just some weird aberration of her ability, a vision that was more lifelike than any she’s previously encountered. Besides, it’s all over now. At least this is what she thinks as she uses a pricing gun in the store’s electronics department, tagging items that have just arrived with their prices when Derek walks up to her.
Derek, her current fantasy boyfriend, is looking as good as ever. Tan skin, dreamy green eyes, and perfectly straight white teeth that are on full display as he smiles at her, giving a tiny wave as he approaches, “Hey.”
“Hi.” She offers warmly, even though internally she’s freaking out.
“Thought I’d talk to you for a second before I have to go back to the registers.”
“You’re still on register duty, huh?” Laura asks with true sympathy, which he seems to appreciate as he gives a deep throated chuckle, “Yeah, unfortunately. I keep asking the managers when I can move to the sales floor. I mean, I know it’s not much easier out here, but better than being trapped at the front of the store.”
“I wouldn’t think being trapped at the front would be all that bad. After all, the doors are right there. You can always make an easy exit.” She manages to sound so calm that she’s impressed with herself. Laura’s never thought she's exceptionally good at flirting, but she feels like she might actually be pulling off here. A richer laugh from Derek confirms it as he scratches at the back of his head, giving a soft ‘true,’ and she gets the impression he might be checking her out. The thought makes her smile brightly and while she keeps pricing things, her hands are shaking a little, a jittering bug dancing in the pit of her stomach.
She’s not sure where to go from here, only for Derek to take the lead, clearing his throat before asking, “So, uh, I was wondering, are you doing anything after work?”
The jittering bug explodes into fireworks and Laura’s face warms, her cheeks definitely red as he continues, “I-I mean I know we’ve only talked here a couple of times, but I thought it might be nice to get to know you, you know? Outside of here?”
Laura feels giddy, smiling so hard now it almost hurts, and it’s hard to even really pay attention to his suggestions of things they can do and places they can go because she’s just-? She’s thrilled. Of course it can’t be a long-term thing, not with her ‘gift,’ but there’s nothing wrong with having some fun and maybe a few make out sessions, especially with a guy who looks like Derek and just as she’s about to give an emphatic ‘Yes!’ she hears a voice speak up from behind her, “I’m afraid Laura will be unable to attend.”
The smile on Laura’s face doesn’t go away, but she is certain it now resembles a near maniacal expression as she slowly turns her head to see the person who spoke behind her. Person. Ha. He’s DEATH. He’s convinced her of that much, not only from what he showed her, but from this very moment as he goes about killing one of her dreams in front of her.
Derek is nonplussed, Death’s interference not something he expected, “Um, I’m sorry, but who are yo-?”
“Derek!” Laura interrupts and wonders if she doesn’t sound as if she’s shrieking, her annoyance and hysteria making her voice rise several octaves, “This is a-? A friend of mine.”
“‘Friend?’” Derek and Death repeat in perfect unison and Laura merely nods while Derek frowns, “I…don’t understand? How did you two meet? Did he used to work here or something?”
Now Laura is confused, “No.”
“Okay, but then how do you two know one another?” he asks with thinly veiled aggression, “I mean, he’s old enough to be your Dad. How else would you have met-?”
“It doesn’t matter.” She returns through gritted teeth, because it’s not as if it isn’t a fair question, but the way he’s asking it gets on her nerves.
“Alright, well does your ‘friend’ have a name?” Derek air quotes the word ‘friend’ and suddenly Laura starts to wonder if maybe he thinks this is some weird sugar daddy situation so she shakes her head, wanting to clear up that notion asap, “Yes, of course! His name is Dea-!” she starts and immediately falters, realizing she can’t say who he really is, but since she began speaking she morphs his name over into something else entirely, “-arryl. Darryl! Yes, Darryl!”
Death, who has moved to stand neatly between them, looks severely put out by his new name. It’s also clear he has no qualms about being straightforward with Derek, who he now directly faces, “While it’s none of your business as to who I am or what my name is, I will tell you that Laura Culp is my current charge. As such, she will be preoccupied for the foreseeable future and thus cannot join you on whatever undoubtedly pointless hormonal exercise you had in mind.”
The look Laura shoots Death would kill a mortal being, but seeing as he isn’t one, he continues standing. Derek, however, continues to look a cross between stumped and angry and Laura tries to think of a way to diffuse this whole situation. Death merely rolls his eyes and mutters, ‘I should have just done this in the first place’ before swiftly placing two fingers on the center of Derek’s forehead.
She gasps, afraid that Derek is going to drop deep at their feet, only for Derek to blink his eyes, a cloudiness overtaking them as Death speaks in a voice wholly unlike the one she’s used to. It’s deep and hollow, hypnotic, and it seems to reverberate all around them in a powerful echo, “You will return to work. You shall forget this moment ever happened.”
Laura watches, fascinated, as Death draws his fingers away and Derek blinks several more times in rapid succession, as if processing the command into his brain the same way a computer processes a new program. He turns and walks away from them, his movements robotic and Laura goes to follow him only for Death to take her wrist, preventing her, “That’s unnecessary.”
An angry glance is shot his way and she opens her mouth to lay into him only to realize their skin is touching. He’s holding her wrist. Remembering the last time they touched, she roughly snatches it back, expecting resistance or visions from him, but finding neither. Death sighs, “Your experiencing a vision via touch will not take place with me again, ever. It is, in fact, impossible for you to receive such a vision from me, seeing as I am not mortal. What you witnessed the first time we met was a work of my doing. I mentally projected a variety of individual deaths towards you so that you would understand who you are dealing with.”
“Who I’m dealing with?” she asks and with the fear of a potential cavalcade of visions gone, she returns to her earlier indignation, “Who I’m dealing with is a complete asshole!”
“I beg your pardon?” Death asks and while asked in an emotionless tone, she hears an undercurrent of offense.
Good.
“You heard me! Derek was asking me out on a date!”
“A date which you do not have time for.” He returns dryly, as if bored, albeit there is a hint of distaste around the word ‘date,’ “What I said was no empty promise. You will be busy for the foreseeable future, Laura, whether you wish it or no.”
“What are you talking about?”
“I acquiesced to your request that I leave and even gave you ample time to adjust to your new situation, however that time has come to a close and I must inform you that now you must join me in our search for your benefactor.”
“My-?”
“The one responsible for your visions.” Death snaps out neatly and this time the mask of his dispassionate nature is broken, showing that he is very annoyed, “There is a world within the one you know, Laura. A world filled with what you humans like to think of as myths and fairy tales, fiction and nightmares. A world that has been here much longer than yours and in many ways is far superior.”
His gloating at the end makes her cross her arms, her jaw jutting out in an open display of hostility, “Alright, that’s probably true, but I don’t give two shits about your world being a turducken in mine! I care about my world! The one I’ve been perfectly happy to be a part of for over twenty years, thank you very much, so you can feel free to-to-to disappeared into the ether or go back to the Underworld or-!”
“I’m not doing anything without you by side.” Death snarls, “Do you think I enjoy the idea of having you tag along? This is as much a hinderance to me as it is to you, but we both have a duty. I thought by now you understood this.”
Technically Laura does understand it. She’s always recognized and respected the burden of responsibility she carries. How the way she deals with her visions carry a massive cost, both to herself and to the person who’s death she witnesses. But the way Death is going about things just sparks her natural instincts to rebel. Not to mention that he seems to be hinting to something that would involve her uprooting her entire life and that is totally not happening, “I do, but unlike you I have a life! I have a job, I have an apartment, I have-!”
“That’s your objection?” He scoffs, as if her perfectly reasonable objections are the dumbest thing he’s ever heard, “Laura Culp, are you going to actually stand here and tell me that you are willing to sacrifice reality as we know it for this?”
Death waves around the store as if it’s nothing, and while Laura herself has poked fun at her job and Cora’s more than once, she bristles at his outright dismissal. Her spine goes a little straighter, posture stiffer as she enters verbal combat, “It’s a living.”
“It is, as the old adage goes, a flash in the pan.” He shakes his head, “No, this is nothing! This is an eyeblink! If anyone can understand that, it is I. The one who has seen buildings rise and fall, seen millennia’s pass in a heartbeat, who has-!”
Laura interrupts again, poking a finger roughly into his chest, “Okay, that’s your living! Not mine! And I don’t want to be a part of whatever chosen one trope you seem to be trying to draw me into! I am almost thirty! I’m too old for this kind of bullshit!”
She can hear him breathing heavily. The fact that he, Death, is breathing at all is a surprise, but it just showcases how mad he is. Which is good to know, because she’s mad too. The fact he thinks he can just show up here and throw her entire life into upheaval without even so much as a by your leave is staggering. Laura knows he’s not human, that he probably truly is incapable of understanding why she’s being so difficult, but that’s just too bad. She’s managed to handle her visions perfectly fine up until this point, she sees no reason to change things.
This in mind, she draws in a calming breath and tries again, “I get it, alright? I understand. You explained to me how my actions caused some hiccups and-!”
“Hiccups!” he cries out, but she continues as if he didn’t interrupt, “-with that in mind, I promise I’ll keep any future visions I have to myself. I won’t interfere, even if I think it would be better to do otherwise. I’ll do that and we’ll be square, because I’m telling you, I am not going anywhere with you.”
Death looks at her as if she’s some exotic animal in a zoo. One who's doing a fancy trick. He pinches the bridge of his nose and for a second he seems to shiver all over, as if physically shaking off his reaction, her words, everything. When he collects himself, his voice takes on a tenor that floors her flat. He sounds…pleading, “Laura, I am not saying you cannot return to this life. If you want this job, your apartment, this existence, I am not saying I plan on taking them away from you indefinitely.”
His dark eyes zero into hers, “I can return you to this, to all of it, and it shall be as if you never left. Surely by now you are aware that is something I am capable of. That when I took you from here last, you suffered no consequences.”
Laura can’t deny that and while she doesn’t feel as if anything about her has changed since he said this, there must be some break in her façade as he presses on, “All I ask is for your assistance. We must know who gave you these visions, because, as I’ve told you before, there has not been a Seer in quite some time. For you to be one is, I’m afraid, a potential harbinger of very, very bad things to come.”
This revelation slaps her so hard it feels physical, “What do you mean?”
He looks as if he’s hesitant to speak of it. Hesitancy on Death is so beyond frightening that she doesn’t even want to give it deeper thought. And when he eventually continues, her entire nervous system shudders with terror at his words, “There is a possibility that whatever being gave you this ability is planning on a change to the natural order of things. That they’re using you as a…conduit.”
“I don’t understand.”
Death gives a sad, dark twitch of his lips, “It’s best that you do not. The full breadth of this potential change would give you something beyond mere nightmares. It would no doubt shatter your sanity. It nearly does mine and I am not even mortal.”
While Laura still feels herself tingle with dread, she shakes her head, “You’re-? You’re just trying to scare me…”
“Why not? I’m frightened.” He confesses and the conviction, the passion in him, makes her tremble, “You have to understand, whoever is responsible for this is more powerful than even I am. They gave you something that has long since been extinct, and the likelihood that they did so for altruistic reasons is minimal. My belief…my worry…is that they intend you to be a conduit for the end.”
“The end-?” Laura starts and she can’t even finish, because what he’s just said is crazy. Crazy. “My visions can’t cause the end of the world.”
“Not the end of the world.” He corrects, “The end of all things.”
“No…” Laura breathes it and she feels like she did when he touched her, when he sent her all those visions, she feels faint and she’s never fainted until then and she can’t faint again like some weakling, so she focuses on her feet, her legs, her connection to the ground and everything around her. She focuses on powering through this just as she’s powered through some of her worst visions – the bloody ones, the violent ones, the unspeakable ones. She centers herself and breathes, “No. That’s not possible. I’m just-? I’m just a regular person. It’s like I told you – I’m not buying into this chosen one nonsense.”
“Believe it or not, it’s a possibility, and it’s one we must explore. One we must stop. I am aware of the sacrifice you will be making and as I have said, I promise to do my best to minimize it, to return you to this life if that’s your wish. But I must have you with me.” Death holds out his hand to her. He holds it out again very much as he did the first time, “Please, Laura. Come with me.”
Everything in her shrinks from all he’s revealed. Everything in her shrinks from the idea of altering her reality. Everything in her shrinks from him. Yet she reaches out and takes his hand in her own, “Okay.”
Part of her expects them to drift away, to teleport, to do anything other than just stand here in her (previous?) workplace and hold hands, but that’s what they’re doing, and she looks at him, wondering what can possibly happen now after having her worldview shattered only for him to ask, point blank, “What is a ‘trope’?”
Laura can only stare at him, “What?”
“You said it earlier. You often use words I have never heard of. ‘Turducken.’ ‘Trope.’ I do not know what they-?”
“Are you serious right now?”
Death’s eyebrows rise and Laura pulls her hand away, “A minute ago you basically told me I’m like, the antichrist or something, and now you want to know what ‘trope’ means!”
“You’re not the Antichrist. That role is reserved for another.”
“Oh my god!” Laura throws up both of her hands, her limit well and truly reached, but Death merely seems confused, “And while our mission is of the utmost importance, there is currently no reason why you cannot-!”
“It’s a plot device, alright?” Her answer is tinged with pure exasperation, “It’s a common, overused cliché in writing, in films, and I guess in life considering what I’m apparently signing up for.”
There’s a pause. Then, “And a turducken?”
“It’s a chicken stuffed inside a duck stuffed inside a turkey.”
The look Death gives her at this information causes Laura to do something she honestly thought she might never do again. Which is to laugh. His look of complete disgust at the idea of a turducken makes her laugh with unabashed joy. The laugh isn’t hysterical or unhinged. It’s genuine and warm and it lifts her spirits more than anything else has in a long time. The feeling is so wonderful that it acts as a balm to her soul, healing her in a way nothing else can, “The way you said your world is hidden within mine made me think of it.”
Death doesn’t dispute it, but he still seems unnerved by it. Yet his alarm doesn't stop him, “You also told that boy I am called Darryl.”
“Well it’s not as if I could introduce you as ‘Death.’” Laura argues, but the earlier laugh has shifted over into her smiling, into her feeling a whole lot better and more like herself, “In fact calling you that in general is weird.”
“It’s what I am.”
“Yeah, but it’s not really a name, you know?” She shoots a side-long glance his way, “Isn’t there anything else I can call you?”
He seems troubled by the request and suddenly Laura wonders if it’s a rude or offensive thing to ask when he mumbles something under his breath. Laura makes an inquisitive sound and he speaks again, louder this time, “John.”
Laura looks at him with wonder and he avoids looking at her at all as he once more extends his hand for her to take, “You may call me John.”
A soft smile takes her face and she nods to herself, taking his hand again, “John.”
And this time what she expected to happen earlier does as they both disappear in a flash of light.
Traveling with Death is akin to being on a launch roller coaster. Everything goes from zero to sixty with blinding speed. Colors and sounds whip by Laura so quickly that she can only close her eyes, lost in an accelerated haze, her heart beating double time.
It only gets worse as she’s pretty sure they go upside down at one point, adding to the roller coaster comparison, her stomach dropping at the swift shift in movement. While it’s terrifying, it’s also thrilling, euphoria taking a hard hold of her as they ease upright and just when she’s tempted to enjoy the ride, it ends.
How her body manages this whirlwind is beyond her, but they’ve stopped moving and she slowly opens her eyes, Death looking at her grimly, “Take a moment. It’s difficult to adjust the first time.”
She opens her mouth to deny it, only to feel a sudden rush of dizziness hit her. It makes her tip backwards, then forwards, her feet feeling unsteady, but the worry she’s about to fall is eased as Death firmly holds one of her elbows, keeping her upright. Eventually the dizziness fades and her body feels more solid, her vision clearing fully to reveal she’s in…a foyer?
But not just any foyer. It’s the kind of foyer Laura’s only ever seen in films or glossy magazines that show off locales she concluded she’d never be in her lifetime. Yet here she is, in an opulent masterpiece. It makes her feel not only poor, but like an imposter. Like someone who’s wandered into a mansion by mistake and is seconds away from being escorted out by armed guards.
To begin with, there’s a chandelier. Laura honestly doesn’t think she’s ever seen an actual chandelier in person before. Much less one that looks to be made of honest to God crystal. There are several crystals, all clustered together like shining diamonds that rise up towards one tier and then another and another. The tiers appear to be made of shiny copper and the last of these tiers is ringed in white candles lit with actual flame. This entire gorgeous monstrosity is anchored to the dark, coffered ceiling above their heads. All the panels have ornate moldings and it makes Laura think of old European cathedrals, albeit with less religious imagery and light.
Everything else around her is dark as well. Dark painted walls, dark polished (potentially marble) floors, and the grand bifurcated staircase before her, all the steps dark and gothic, the set winding off into two different directions, probably an east wing and a west wing. She’s never even imagined herself in a place that has wings. Then there are the little accents and decors sprinkled here and there. Opulent silver mirrors, claw footed tables, paintings on the wall that are actually painted and appear to be from a time long before she was born.
Laura looks at everything with awe even as Death withdraws his hand from her elbow and starts up the stairs, not pausing a beat, “This is the Eyrie. It’s a dwelling in a pocket dimension outside of time and space that’s constructed for the sole purpose of housing me and my associates. A bedroom will be made up for you and you will have access to the entire grounds, albeit I ask for you to respect the privacy of others’ quarters, mine especially.”
Numbly, she follows after him, one hand going to the railing on the stairway, because even though she’s recovered from the trip, she still feels discombobulated. How can she not be in a place like this? Not to mention the way he tosses out ‘pocket dimension’ like it’s a city in some state she’s never heard of. Perfectly normal, apparently, are pocket dimensions.
As she takes in her surroundings more thoroughly she realizes that not everything is decked out in black as she initially thought. The walls are actually painted a deep cherry red that resembles black and as he breaks off towards the west wing she notices that the walls here are in fact colored in an inky green.
Laura finds herself somewhat relieved to see the entire building isn't simply a banal monument to what the man before her represents. True, the main theme is darkness, but it's not overly dreary nor is it overwhelming gothic. This is especially proven true as they pass several floor to ceiling windows that pour in silvery, moonlit light.
She tries to peer through one, but she can't see anything outside whatsoever. However, she's pretty sure there is an outside, some shadowy shapes hinting to trees. Which is another reassurance. She wouldn't want to be trapped wholly within this place, knowing there's at least some form of grounds and nature outside brings her comfort.
However, Laura is not comforted by the fact that she's currently following behind Death like a lost puppy. Naturally, this is a huge change for her, and she certainly has a lot to learn when it comes to this place and everything else that she’s facing, but his approach is less than encouraging. Death is rattling everything off as if she shouldn’t have any trouble understanding every single thing coming out of his mouth, never mind the fact that they come from two different worlds. Literally. And apparently those worlds are even housed in other dimensions and he hasn’t stopped talking.
“…will need to check you over. I assure you that it won’t be overly invasive. Our physicians are just like yours. However, their knowledge of anatomy is not merely of the human variety. They are well acquainted with demons, ghosts, vampires-“
“Whoa, whoa, whoa! Stop! Time out!” Laura does the motion best known for ‘time out’ even though she’s positive Death has no idea that’s what it means, “Back up, I’m going to a doctor?”
Death grumbles, “Yes, I do believe that was what I was saying.”
“But why-?”
“Because it’s the first step in finding potential answers.” He clips out, looking at her as if it’s idiotic for her to even ask and she glowers at him, “Alright, well, you don’t have to be a dick about it.”
He just gives another big sigh and Laura’s come to the conclusion that this is all she’s ever going to get from him. Big sighs, eye rolls, and endless derision. How in the hell is she supposed to deal with this long term? The answer is simple – she isn't. The sooner they figure this all out, the sooner she can go back to her real life, so thinking of it as long term is incorrect. Her time with him is going to be short term and as short term as she can possibly make it. So if that means going to see Doctor Frankenstein or whatever, she’s ready for it.
However, something else he said caught her attention, “Also, you mentioned demons, ghosts, vampires – all of those are real too?”
“I’m afraid so.” He sounds so put out by it, but Laura’s suddenly feels reinvigorated, the idea that these supernatural beings are real sparking excitement inside her, “What about werewolves? Mermaids? Ooo – unicorns!”
The last is added with a brightness she’s sure just chaps his ass and the expression he shoots her confirms as much, making her giddy. There’s something about tormenting this legendary figure that really gets her blood pumping and just as she’s about to ask about more potential myths made reality, a young woman scurries up to them. Scurry is an accurate description too, as she moves with jittery haste towards them, her beautiful mass of corkscrew black curls adding to her overall bouncy appearance as they spring about with her movements. A nervous smile floats around her face as she gets closer and Laura can’t help but marvel over her beautiful dark eyes and perfect olive skin. She honestly wonders if the girl knows how gorgeous she is. If she did, maybe she wouldn’t be so nervous, a certain power to be found in the kind of beauty she carries.
Regardless, it is clear that she is nervous as words start pouring out of her in a shaky rush, “Welcome back, Death, sir! It’s good to see you’re back! I have the latest reports for you on your desk. Currently India has overtaken China as the country with the highest rates, although projections show this is a temporary shift. Now I know our division doesn’t work in that part of the world, but you always said you liked to be kept informed of the current trends and that was just passed to me via e-mail from the Eastern World Death Headquarters. On our end, there has been an uptick in collections in Texas due to a flood so the Couriers in that state are requesting back up and where are my manners, hi, hello!”
Laura blinks, a little thrown when she notices the woman staring at her and she realizes that somewhere within her rapid-fire speech she was addressed. This is cemented as a hand is extended for her to shake, albeit Laura eyes it wearily. This gets her a breathless giggle in return, “Oh, you don’t have to worry! You can shake my hand! I’m already dead! I mean, I died already, but also I’m not dead, but I’m not undead, like, I’m not a zombie, I’m just-!”
“Mariella.” Death cuts her off, his dark eyes pinning her with such a look that she practically jumps. Laura gives him a disapproving frown before offering Mariella a friendly smile and shaking her head, “Laura Culp. Nice to meet you.”
“Laura! Oh yes, I heard about you! You’re the new Seer! It’s such a big scandal! I wish I could claim to be the one who found you, but it was actually Shane. But, to be fair, he has better connections, what with being a demon and all.” Mariella tucks some of her curls behind one of her ears and she looks to Death again, “Speaking of, he’s here as well in your office and I imagine that’s where you’re headed because it is in this direction and if you seem to be going in this direc-!”
“I am.” He tosses out and continues to march forward. Mariella, who stopped to talk to them, turns to Laura again, “Sorry I didn’t introduce myself first.”
“Don’t be sorry. Are you just Mariella or-?”
“Mariella Reyes.” She confirms, “I’m, well? I guess you could say I’m Mr. Death’s secretary? I make sure that he’s kept up to date on important matters within the Western World Death Headquarters, of which he is the primary lead. I also have to deal with our various Couriers and other Supernatural Agencies. It’s a lot of e-mailing and vidcalls and just red-tape and bureaucracy. But it’s a job, you know, and actually we should probably keep up with him because he gets, ah, snippy if I fall behind.”
Like a toy that’s been wound up to its’ fullest setting. Mariella takes off at a fast-clipping walk, so much so that Laura has trouble keeping up with her. In the far distance she sees a large, lavish door thrown open and from within the room inside she hears two voices talking. One she recognizes as Death, but the other is new. The new voice is male and full of amused glee. At first she can’t parse out his words but they become clearer the closer she gets, “-everything you wanted and more, huh? Can’t even remember the last time you were around a human. Must be excruciating for you.”
“Not as excruciating as being around you.” Is tossed back and that she easily recognizes as Death. As she and Mariella enter a beautifully outfitted office, Laura sees Death leaning against a massive executive desk that’s almost the size of a child’s mattress. Much like everything else she’s seen, it’s a timeless yet extravagant looking piece. On it rests the files Mariella talked about as well as a laptop, which surprises her some, because that’s about the most mundane thing she’s seen thus far.
The walls are almost all books and behind the desk is another impressive window that allows in the moonlight. Moonlight, which dances over an exceptional antique fireplace and a nearby set of Victorian parlor chairs with matching ottomans. Within the fireplace there are flames that aren’t simply the standard reddish orange, instead flickering occasionally and changing color to purple then to green then back again. Within one of the armchairs is, Laura is certain, the sound of the voice she didn’t recognize. It’s an incredibly lanky man who is stretched out in such a way that he’s nearly lying down, the back of the chair barely holding him up, his long legs nearly bent fully over the ottoman, big feet almost touching the polished hardwood floor.
He reminds her of a scarecrow – the shock of messy brown hair, the lazy brown eyes, the pale skin, the utter skinniness. He’s wearing a plaid shirt and jeans, making him appear human, but much like with Death and Mariella she knows now that that is no longer something she can ever take for granted. Not now that she’s started this adventure. Laura’s also certain that if he stood at his full height he’d tower over everyone here by a few inches, no doubt coming in at a bit more than six and a half feet. It might explain why he’s so stretched out on the chair and ottoman, it makes his height less of an issue, considering he’s nearly lying down. But when she and Marielle fully enter the room and he sees them, he sits up in interest, “Well hello, beautiful!”
The man quickly gets to his feet, proving her theory about his insane height to be true, as he comes over towards her, giving her a gentlemanly bow, “I can see that yet again, my buddy Death has buried the lead. You, my dear, are ravishing. Truly a sight for sore eyes in these parts. May I?”
Another hand is offered her way and Laura is a little dazed by how many people she’s touched today. She’s so used to being trapped within her own personal bubble that it’s almost overwhelming, all this physical contact. But she allows him to take her hand and then, much to her shock, he kisses the back of it. Death scoffs and Mariella lets out a little squeal of delight, “I remember when he did that to me when we first met!”
The man withdraws his hand and looks to Mariella with some surprise, “You remember that?”
She gives a nod, blushing slightly, “Yes, it was 1997. I’d just died two weeks ago. It was one of the nicest things anyone had ever done for me.”
“That’s because the people in your mortal life didn’t appreciate you nearly enough. Half the reason you ended up with us as I recall.”
Death tartly interjects, “She ended up with me, Malthazor. Not you.”
“Eh, tomato, tomatoe.” The man returns his gaze to Laura, “I’m Shane, by the way. Ignore the cabal name. I never use it.”
“Cabal name?” she parrots and Shane chuckles, “Yeah, you’re looking at a level two demon, baby! One of the bottom members on the ol’ totem pole of the Malthazor cabal! I hardly ever mess with them anyway. They’re all a buncha jerks! I much prefer marching to the beat of my own drum and that drum just happens to be a big fan of Mr. Grumpy over there.”
He jerks a thumb in Death’s direction and Death shakes his head, “Are we finally done with the theatrics?”
“Done? Death, my man, my pal, we’ve just started!” Shane crows and he crosses his arms, looking at Laura as if taking her into serious consideration, “Now then, Ms. Seer, just what are we going to do with you?”
“'We’ are not doing anything. I will be the one to escort Ms. Culp to St. Cora’s to meet with a physician, assuming you’ve done your duty, Ms. Reyes.” He casts a questioning look Mariella’s way, but she’s already nodding, having produced a notepad from seeming thin air, “Yes, it’s set for tomorrow at two p.m. You also still have that meeting with Clean Up at eleven and that conference with False Humanities right after. Will you need transportation for St. Cora’s or do you plan on translocating again?”
Death is taking off his suit jacket and just about to answer when Shane cuts in with a laugh, “Are you kidding? Transportation, Mar. You know how mortals get if you translocate ‘em too many times. Don’t think it’d be a good look to show up at the doc’s with the Seer puking her guts out.”
“The Seer happens to be in the room.” Laura mutters, annoyed at the fact that they are not only talking about her as if she’s not there, but also shooting out a variety of things she can’t even begin to understand. Clean Up? False Humanities? Translocation? What are they even talking about? She has some idea as to what some of it might mean, but not all, and everything that’s happened is really starting to wear her down, making her feel a cross between irritable and spent.
Mariella walks over and gives one of her arms a sympathetic pat while Shane does a motion as if tipping his cap off to her, “My apologies. Hard for me to remember what it’s like adapting to a new situation. Old age’ll do that to you!”
Considering the nature of where she is, Laura can’t deny that he’s probably telling the truth about his ‘old age’, never mind the fact he looks to be in his mid-thirties, this made only more relevant by the way he talks, “But hey, there’s nothing like riding in Death’s whip! That baby is tricked out like you wouldn’t believe and it’s just one perk of bein’ part of The Grim Society.”
While this draws a giggle from Mariella, Death looks legitimately pained, “Are you still attempting to see that ridiculous notion take hold?”
“Oh ho, it’s gonna!” the demon promises, a glint in his eyes, “It’s the name of our merry little band and everyone will want to be a part of it. I mean, can you imagine the merchandising? T-shirts, hats, buttons – it’s going to take off like a rocket to the moon! And then when the money rolls in, we can all retire off to the sunny coast of Valencia! Not only because it’s a beautiful locale, but because one of the best relationships I ever had was with this succubus that went by that name. She could do this thing with her hips-!”
“Out.” Death doesn’t raise his voice, but the command is somehow still loud and it rings around the room with a depth of finality that no one can seem to ignore. Shane just holds up both hands as if in a sign of surrender before turning to Laura and giving her a quick wink, tossing out a ‘later beautiful’ then shoving his hands in the pockets of his jeans and leaving the room, whistling as he goes. Mariella, for her part, looks a little more squirrely at her boss’s edict and turns to Laura, “Come on, I’ll show you to your room.”
Laura looks at Death and sees him take a seat at his desk. A snifter of some drink, probably brandy, seems to have appeared from nowhere and he drinks it while he tugs at his shirt collar, loosening his tie. While Shane was certainly right about his being grumpy, and while Laura herself has found him to be annoyingly taciturn and cross, she has to admit that in this moment he looks almost…pleased. But in an exhausted way. A human way.
She works this over in her mind as she follows after Mariella, who is happily chattering away about nothing and everything. Laura knows it would be best if she paid attention, but, again, so much has been thrown at her lately that she truly feels like she can’t handle anymore. Her head is stuffed full and adding any sort of new information seems impossible. It’s easier, instead, to let Mariella talk and follow behind her, taking in all the scenery around her. The impossibly long hallways, the many unopened doors, the lights hanging overhead and she vaguely becomes aware of the fact that they’re ascending a spiral staircase as her mind continues to drift.
When they eventually come to a stop, Laura practically runs into Mariella’s back, the girl stopping abruptly in both motion and speech. She turns to Laura and gestures to the door in front of them, “Here we are! This room has already been set to your specifications. Mr. Death made sure of that. Normally we’d use a progenerator, but he said he would handle it and as you can imagine he’s not one to argue with.”
Laura can’t help but smirk, having already argued with him plenty. Mariella continues, “However, if you find you need anything there’s a black pull bell near the door that will summon your personal roomkeeper.”
“Wait, you said Death made my room?”
“He did.” Mariella returns as if that isn’t odd at all. Laura scowls and eyes the door skeptically, “I don’t know if I want to go in there then.”
“Ah, I’m sure it’s nothing nefarious!” the other girl seems alarmed at the suggestion, but also gives Laura a friendly shrug, “I can go first if you’d like.”
“I’m not a wimp.” She returns, but without any heat. If anything there’s a note of reassurance in there that she thinks is more for herself than for Mariella as she reaches for the knob and opens the door. The inside of the room is dark and therefore a bit imposing, but Laura still reaches her hand inside near the wall, hoping to find a light switch. When she does she gingerly clicks it on and then is completely floored by the sight in front of her.
It's her room. Her exact room. The bedroom she has in her apartment with Grace. It’s her bedroom down to the very letter and she walks inside, stunned beyond words. She can feel Mariella follow in behind her, giving off the kind of nervous energy someone can only give when they wonder if what they’re doing is okay, and while Laura doesn’t voice it, it’s totally fine for Mariella to enter, even if she herself is in the midst of a meltdown. Because this is her room.
The full-sized mattress with the colorful quilt she bought on wholesale. The various cheap romance and mystery paperbacks scattered around her bed that she flips through when she’s trying to get tired enough to go to sleep. Her old stuffed toys from childhood that she refused to get rid of. Her desk with her second-hand laptop and ratty old gaming chair. Her slim flatscreen television and game console that she saved for, DVDs stacked on top. Laura sees the door to her closet and tugs it open to see that inside are all of her clothes, hanging just as she left them. She shuts the door and turns to Mariella, “How did he know?”
Mariella shrugs again, “He’s a mystery. Even to me and I’ve been with him for a long time now.”
This sparks a memory of something she said earlier, “You said you died.”
“Yup.” She pop’s the ‘p’ and seems a little sheepish when she talks about it, “It, uh, was a car accident. I was a Courier for a time, but, um, it didn’t take. So, ah, he brought me here. To help him.”
Laura turns to her, “A courier?”
“It’s the latest title they like to go by. A lot of things can happen when someone dies. There’s a lot of places and opportunities for souls, depending on this and that. Some souls, like me, end up serving a specific purpose after we die. Some become couriers, spirits who take newly departed souls to their next destination, whether that be Heaven or Hell or to be used towards some other goal entirely. Couriers have gone by Ferrymen, Reapers, Grims – it just changes whenever they decide it needs a new name. Like I said, lately it’s Couriers.”
“So, Death doesn’t show up at every person’s passing?”
Mariella laughs, “No, no. That’s a lot of work for one being. I imagine long ago, in the beginning, there was just one. Not as many souls to collect then. But as more and more energy was created and crafted into souls, into living beings, more and more hands were needed. It’s a very structured system now. Like I said, all very bureaucratic and business like.”
Laura shakes her head at this revelation. Death and souls as a business. It should be more alarming, but frankly it makes sense more than anything else she’s uncovered and that’s truly saying something. She settles on the edge of her bed and lets out a hefty sigh, running a hand through her hair, “Death has minions.”
The other girl frowns, “I suppose. I’m not a fan of that terminology though.”
Laura looks at her apologetically, “Sorry, sorry. I usually have more tact. I’m just tired.”
Mariella’s expression softens, “Well, of course you are! Joining us wouldn’t be an easy feat for anyone, even if you are a Seer. You should get some rest.”
She turns to leave, but just before she goes, Laura calls out to her, “Mariella, wait!”
She does.
“Death…does he ever come for anyone? I mean, in person?” At Mariella’s confused look, Laura explains, “You said he doesn’t show up at every person’s passing. But does he-?”
“Yes.” Mariella confirms, “He does show up if it’s a major event. Like a plane crash or a tsunami. A catastrophic moment where hundreds of souls are lost at once. He always appears at those. And if it’s a very significant death, like a world leader or a notable contributor to mankind. Those he handles personally.”
Laura nods and thanks her, even though she’s not at all sure why she even asked.
What are the ideas you have for the breedvember fics 👀
WHY I'M GLAD YOU ASKED ANON *rubs hands together*
They're all Hackearney and I'll be doing three fics combining multiple prompts. Because who doesn't love a combo deal.
First fic is a vaguely medieval fantasy arranged marriage AU combining day 2: arranged marriage, day 3: loss of virginity, and day 18: providing heirs. Travis is an old knight who needs to hunker down and repopulate his family tree after they all die in an epidemic. Laura is a conveniently unmarried noblewoman who has been very curious about sex since her elder sister handed her a porn book when she started getting a period lol. He arrives just as she's wrestling her nephews on the training grounds and of course, beautiful woman who can fight??? What a breath of fresh air, he gotta wife that. However he is awkward as hell but fortunately Laura also finds him hot. Cue awkward but sweet wedding night sex where they simultaneously realize a breeding kink.
Second is the Ovulation fic for day 5: Ovulation Cycle/Fertility Window and day 15: running out of condoms/forgetting birth control/risky sex. Inspired by my recent ovulations highkey feeling like omegaverse heats kdfjdsdbdbdj Laura's out of her mind during ovulation and she needs Travis to put a baby in her STAT. He's a bit concerned but what is logic compared to your beautiful young gf who wants you to raw her.
Third (and literally the most nebulous right now because i have not even an outline for this) is the werewolf Travis AU for day 6. Laura gets cured, Ryan is alive, Travis somehow gets bitten again??? By Caleb??? (I'm still trying to figure out the logistics of this) And Laura stays behind so Ryan can have a fighting chance to get to Silas and end the curse. Travis turns and first thing he does is BREED and Laura just has to take it because they need one less rampaging werewolf out there and werewolf dick? Incredible. Who cares if it's attached to your weirdly hot jailer. And for that sweet sweet angst Silas manages to get got and Travis comes to with his dick inside Laura and her pussy sloppy with several of his loads already. #ilovedubiousconsent
i do have a bit written for the first and second fics, if you wanna peek all you need to do is ask heheheheh
We deserved to have Laura wearing Travis’s shirt and not that dress . Thank you @aluvsblu for taking my comm and @cbrcbbr whose design of Laura has driven me insane <3
Notes: Merry Christmas to all my fellow Hackearney fans! This is my gift to you!
Preview:
Travis normally ignores his hormonal urges.
It's not that he wants to, so much as he HAS to. His mother caught him once before in an…awkward position. The fury she unleashed upon him that day not only killed his libido, it left a mark on his right hip that he's pretty sure is permanent. It's been several months and it's still there - a deep pink indent that signals to a lifelong scar. He already has plenty of those from her, he doesn't wish to add more.
So now, whenever Travis feels an inkling of lust, he tends to do his best to try and push past it. However, he's still a teenager and every now and then the urge is just too strong.
2087
stormborns
yousharknotpass
