mk 🦔

@mkwritesfic.bsky.social

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She/her. 31. Ace. Aspiring author with no motivation. I like cozy games, books, coffee, animals, and democracy. No AI. Current WIP: untitled dieselpunk fantasy

“I look forward to our future exploits, ladies,” Fontaine said, ushering them toward the door. When he swung it open, they nearly collided with an auburn-haired woman in a blue dress holding a notepad. Her cheeks were red from drinking, and it looked as if she had been crying recently. “Ms. Hartwell. I did not expect to see you here. Is something the matter?” “Yes,” the woman said. “Well…no. I was speaking with Hattie earlier, and she said some things that got me thinking about…” She glanced at Faye and Ari warily. “My parents’ deaths. Can I speak with you for just a moment?”
Nicholas worked his jaw, clearly wanting to argue with her but deciding against it. “I would never wish to deny you on your special night, Hattie.” Hattie flashed him a smile and looped her arm through Stella’s, pulling her across the room and toward the exit into the foyer. “You looked like you needed help, and I certainly don't blame you,” she said. “Nicholas is a cad. I'm not sure what Lorraine sees in him.” Stella snorted. “If Lorraine wants him, she can have him.” “Most certainly not. I would never let my best friend court him. In fact, if I had it my way, I would make sure Nicholas Belmont stayed single for the rest of his life. No one deserves to be tied down to that.” Hattie stopped underneath the grand staircase, turning so she was facing Stella and placing both hands on her arms. “Are you okay, sweetie? I saw you from across the room and knew I had to do something.” Stella nodded. “I'm fine. Thank you. You didn't have to leave the party for me.”
Mr. Fontaine had made his way back to them, walking with his head held high and his shoulders squared like a perfect soldier. Faye’s gaze involuntarily fell to the gun holstered at his hip. She and Ari were both armed as well, but it didn’t mean she wasn’t wary of the guards. “How many people do you have on your crew, Miss Dawson?” he asked. “Five. Me, Faye, and three others. I don’t trust people.” Fontaine blinked behind his glasses, then nodded, satisfied. “Smart girl. I think you’ll be the perfect captain to transport these goods for me. The fewer people around, the better. No one on your crew will get nosy and start snooping around?” Faye’s brow furrowed. It wasn’t as if Fontaine was the first authority figure or government official that had approached them about moving illegal goods, but usually people weren’t so secretive about it. Most of the contraband they moved came from backyard distilleries or drug dens, which had started to make sense to her. But this felt…odd.
“I don't think we're safe here,” Dimitri said as Dinha sat down next to him with two pints of ale. “I think people are suspicious.” Even as he said it, two people from across the room looked over at him as if they had heard him. “So disguise yourself,” Dinha said with a shrug. “You can do that, right? You can do all kinds of things. I'm sure you could kill everyone in this room before they even knew what hit them.” He shot her a glare as he took a long gulp of his own ale. “Why would you say that?” “Because you could. I'm not wrong, am I?” She wasn't, but he didn't want to think about it. He didn't want to hurt anyone here, but if they attacked first, he would have no choice. “I've never been good with masking spells,” he said. “Right. You have other specialties.” She took a sip of her ale, staring at him over the rim of the cup. A challenge. An accusation. He wouldn't take her bait.
New Magic: The Gathering Stardew Valley Secret Lair cards! From top left to bottom right: Swords to Plowshares, Rites of Flourishing, Sol Ring, Food token, Stardew Valley land, Mermaid's Pendant, The Welcoming Committee, and Pierre's Truce
“Stella –” “No, it makes sense,” Stella said. She felt half deranged. Her heartbeat had picked up, and her brain was rushing in every direction, reviewing every last thing she knew about the incident. “Everything was so vague. We just weren’t asking the right questions because we were kids. We just believed everything we were told.” She shook her head. With this new information, she felt like she had sobered considerably, her foggy mind now stirring awake and focused on this one goal. She smiled, patting Hattie’s hand as she rose to her feet. “I have to talk to Fen.” “Stella,” Hattie said. Her voice had an edge to it now. “That was very rude of me. Obviously I’ve been drinking, and I could be wrong about the whole thing.” She rose to her feet as well, her gaze hardening as she leaned in. Her breath was warm on Stella’s ear. “I’m very sorry about your parents, and I’m always here if you need me. But if I’m right and my father was involved in this, it would be in your best interest to leave it alone.”
“I’m so sorry,” she said, wiping away her tears with the sleeve of her robe. “You would be so disappointed in me.” Helina looked so much like Fen it was almost surreal. In the picture, she wore her dark curls loose and tumbling over her shoulders and down her back. The smile on her warm, freckled face was so wide and radiant, like she was in the middle of laughing as the photo was taken. She wore a loose, casual day dress and pearls and sat at a white iron garden table in front of rose bushes. Stella wondered for the first time who had actually taken the picture, if it was Reina, if Reina had been the one to make her mother smile. “I’m trying,” she said, swallowing around the lump in her throat. “I’m trying so, so hard, but I’m just not good enough. I don’t know what to do without you or Dad. I never have. And Fen…” She sniffled, and another tear fell. “I swore I would take care of him, but I’ve been doing a pretty shit job. I don’t know how to help him.” She exhaled a humorless laugh. “I don’t even know how to help myself.”
Clay and Alfred exchanged a look that Jonah couldn’t really make sense of. “I guess so,” Clay replied. “He didn’t come to dinner.” “He didn’t have dinner at his house?” “I’m not sure.” “What’s his second job?” Clay tilted his head to the side, a small smile pulling at the edge of his lips. “Why so interested all of a sudden? I’m pretty sure he told us about it a few weeks ago.” A few weeks ago? Jonah knew for a fact that Thomas absolutely did not mention another job in front of him. “No reason. I just thought he would want to work at the expo.” It occurred to him then that it was entirely possible Clay and his dad both knew exactly what Thomas was doing tonight. Were they all okay with desecrating someone else’s grave for a little extra cash?
Ben Wyatt from Parks and Rec holding up his claymation character with the dialogue, "Do you think a depressed person could make this?"
Ari shook her head. “No, we're business associates of your father's. He invited us tonight.” “Oh, right.” Now the politeness was gone, replaced with a tight smile. “My father's business associates.” She blew out an exasperated breath. “He can't take one day off to spend time with me, can he?” Faye glanced at Ari, unsure if they should answer, but then the girl let out a short burst of laughter and pressed her hands to her wine-warmed cheeks. “Oh my! That was terribly rude of me. Please forgive me. I'm Harriet Fontaine, but I go by Hattie.” The way that she moved and spoke was a little robotic, not much different from the automatons moving around the room. Of course, she was entirely human, but everything felt so deliberate and curated, like she had been programmed to behave one way and instructed not to stray away from it. Faye was, to put it as nicely as possible, deeply uncomfortable. “I'm Ari,” Ari said, seemingly unbothered by the strange outburst. “And this is my girlfriend, Faye.”
For a moment, Stella was too stunned to move, too stunned to say anything. Over the years, Reina had said some horrible things about Fen, but she had never been so direct or sounded so angry. Tears stung behind Stella’s eyes, and she blinked them back as she searched her muddled mind for a response. “I'm his sister,” she said. “I told my mother – your sister – that I was going to do anything I needed to do to keep him safe. Obviously you never made her a promise like that, but I would like to think that you loved my mom enough to want to take care of her children for her, even if it got difficult sometimes.” She sighed, staring down into the dark depths of her coffee mug. “I wish you didn't hate him.” “I don't–” Reina hesitated, then leaned back in her chair and sipped her coffee. Clearing her throat, she said, “I don't hate him. But I think he's troubled, and I don't think that's anything that's going to be solved here.”
“Do I look okay?” Ari asked, looking up at Faye from underneath her pale eyelashes. The small quirk of her lips told Faye she knew she did – especially because Faye had told her multiple times already – but Ari loved a compliment. The snug silver dress that Ari had picked out for herself cascaded down her body, the fringed skirt falling like droplets of rain to her feet and the bodice hugging her curves perfectly. Underneath the glowing light that shimmered from the glass chandelier, she looked like an entirely new person, barely even human, a being from somewhere beyond. It was hard for Faye to keep her feet moving to the beat of the song as she stared at her. “You look like moonlight,” Faye settled on saying. Ari giggled a bit. “Thanks. I hope that's a good thing.”
My tuxedo cat Tonks sitting in a box of clothes
“Once you get in there, one of the medics will take your blood.” Jonah stopped short, his heart thudding painfully as he clenched his fist and ran his thumb over the gash in his palm. “My what?” Freddie turned to him, hands on his hips, and rolled his eyes. “Relax, will you? It’s just a drop so they can run a quick test and make sure you’re not sick.” “Sick with what? I’m not sick.” Jonah had seen a doctor exactly once in his life when he and a bunch of people in his class got sick with pneumonia and one of the kids died. His mom had immediately called a doctor, and it was one of the most unpleasant experiences he’d ever had. Even then, no one had taken his blood. “It’s really not that serious,” Freddie said, clearly exasperated. “It’s just that there’s a lot of people in the city and we’ll all be in close quarters with each other. There have been a few illnesses going around, and they just want to check.”
Freddie. He must be beside the arena where he'd started his week. He hadn't even realized. “I'm okay,” he answered. He tasted metal, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his nose and onto his lips. He wiped it away, blinking, trying to stabilize himself, but his limbs felt weak. He was going to collapse. This was not how it had felt a few nights ago. Then, it had felt hopeful, invigorating, but now, he was slowly fading, the world around him dull and fuzzy. “I didn't ask how you were doing. I asked what you were doing. You're bleeding all over my alley.” Jonah didn't really think Freddie had any right to claim an entire alley, but he didn't bother to respond. The weight of any words at all was too much for him to bear right now. He leaned his forehead against the wall, his eyes sliding shut against his will as more blood dripped down his face. He was most certainly not okay.
My brindle pit mix Adora lying on the couch with her tongue out
A picture of one of the special edition copies of The Hunger Games by Suzanne Collins. It's a very shiny gold and has my phone's reflection on it oops
Stella’s lips trembled as she turned away again. “Were you lying about Fontaine?” she asked. “No,” Nicholas replied simply, and she actually believed him. More tears fell. She didn’t care if he saw them now, if he thought she was weak. Because she was weak. She had failed her parents, she had failed her brother. She was no good for anything. With another deep, shaky breath, she rounded on him, jabbing a finger into his hard chest. “Fuck you and fuck your Royal Guard,” she growled. “You will never touch my brother. Do you understand?” “Stella –” “Do. You. Understand?” Nicholas swallowed, but he didn’t look afraid of her. “This isn’t about him at all, is it? This is all about you. It always has been. You’re selfish, Stella, and one day, you’re going to realize –”
Eli hesitated, his dark eyes flickering from Jonah back to Mabel. “My boss…the guy who gives me the transport jobs…he asked me once if I wanted some extra cash. I said sure, because who doesn’t, right? He told me I could go out with a couple of his other workers and grab a couple of bodies. I thought it would be okay ‘cause they’re dead, you know? They don’t need the bodies anymore. But I got to the cemetery and saw the name on the gravemarker – Janice Richards, remember her? She was our teacher when we were six. Gunshot wound to the head, I think. Anyway, I saw her name, and I just…froze. I couldn’t do it. I left, never tried again. Boss man told me I was too soft, but I didn’t care. I feel like…” He shook his head, turning his face up toward the sky. In the light of the moon, Jonah thought he saw tears glistening in his eyes. “I feel like once you do something like that, there’s no going back. Some part of your humanity dies, and I don’t ever want to lose who I am.” He leaned back against the wall, turning once again toward Mabel. “So no, I’ve never robbed a grave, and I never will. Happy?”
It was the second time Fen had abandoned him, and this time, it had cost him his life. He stripped off his shirt with trembling hands and then went to the sink to scrub himself down. He was certain there wasn't anything left on him, but still, he scrubbed his hands, his arms, his face, every bare inch of him until his skin was left pink and raw. He wished he could tear his skin off completely. A knock came at the door, and Fen froze, breathing hard, staring at his reflection in the mirror and not recognizing the face that stared back. “Fen?” Stella called. “I got you some water and some clean clothes. Can I come in?” He hesitated. He did not want to see her, didn't want to see anyone, just wanted to sit on the floor and wait for death to come for him too, because it came for everybody eventually. Dying quietly in a familiar place was a small mercy. Some people died brutally, screaming and alone.
“Eli,” he started to say, but he wasn't sure what he was trying to tell him, how he could even explain what was going through his head. Thankfully, Freddie interrupted before his addled brain made him say something too damning. “You can't just sit around all day. We got work to do. Why don't you come with me to get this mech ready for the fight real quick? It starts in a half hour. We gotta win this round or else my reputation is ruined. I'll never get to pilot one.” “Uh…I'm supposed to be working at one of the car shows today –” “Uh…I don't care!” Freddie exclaimed in a mocking tone. “You're here, you're gonna help me.” He handed Jonah a tool belt, which Jonah took reluctantly, and then stormed out of the room, calling, “Be in the repair area in ten minutes. Don't be late.” “Damn,” Eli said. “Who put the kid in charge?”
Nicholas swallowed, but he didn’t look afraid of her. “This isn’t about him at all, is it? This is all about you. It always has been. You’re selfish, Stella, and one day, you’re going to realize –” Stella let out a howl like a dying animal and pushed past him, stomping back in the direction of the house. Her head was reeling, and each step made her feel like she was dying a little bit more inside, but she pushed on. They had to leave. They had to. There was no other option. As she entered through the back door, leaving a trail of water in her wake, she heard the doorbell ring. She ignored it as she rushed for the stairs, already thinking about what she needed to pack for herself and for Fen. They didn’t have any spare money to spend; Reina monitored all of their spendings. They didn’t have a way to get out. Hell, she didn’t even know where they would go. None of that mattered, though. They couldn’t stay here.
Brindle pit mix named Adora sleeping on a gray pillow on a gray couch.
He rose to his feet, a cry of triumph barely restrained behind his lips, and suddenly, the world grew blurry, his vision darkening at the edges. The magic was leaving him, draining him, as he staggered forward and slumped against the wall. His breath came out in ragged pants as pain tore through his insides, and he thought surely he was going to die right here in this alley, alone in his recklessness. It would be his fault, really. He'd known what magic could do, and he'd known that he wouldn't be strong enough to withstand it. He'd just hoped, stupidly hoped that maybe, maybe – A door further down the alley slammed open, and he heard a familiar voice call out, “What the hell are you doing?” Freddie. He must be beside the arena where he'd started his week. He hadn't even realized. “I'm okay,” he answered. He tasted metal, and he realized that there was blood dripping from his nose and onto his lips. He wiped it away, blinking, trying to stabilize himself, but his limbs felt weak.
“Here's some water,” one of the nurses said, handing him a glass. He stared at it a moment before drinking it. He felt like his brain was idling and couldn't get back to full speed. What the hell had he done? “I suspect heat stroke,” the nurse taking his vitals said. “It's very hot out there, and you've been doing quite a bit of physical labor. It's important to stay hydrated throughout the day and make sure you're eating something.” “I told you!” Mabel exclaimed. “Didn't I tell you? You have to take care of yourself!” Jonah didn't feel like he'd had a heat stroke. It felt much deeper than that, like it had pushed past all of his bones and organs and scraped sharp talons over his inner self, his very being. It was an odd sensation, one he couldn't exactly describe.
“How much alcohol have you had tonight?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. “Not –” She hiccupped. “Not enough.” “I think you've had plenty,” Nicholas said. “This is exactly why we had to put laws into place about selling the stuff. People don't act like themselves when they're drunk.” The song ended, and the crowd broke out into applause as another one started, this one softer and smoother. Nicholas held his hand out to her, and reluctantly, she took it as he guided them into the foxtrot, a dance she actually did know. The sour feeling in her stomach worsened. She was all too aware of every place his skin touched hers, and she wanted nothing more than to pull away and never let his creeping hands near her again. “Issa party,” she slurred. “I'm supposed to be having fun.” She didn't dare mention her parents to him and the grief she was trying to placate. She didn't want to know what he had to say.
He stole a quick glance around the rest of the arena. It was the largest building he had ever seen in his life, bigger even than the massive, busy sawmill he worked at. Seats rose up several stories toward a bright blue sky, and all around, hundreds of people and automatons were milling around already, going about whatever task they had been given. A mech sat lifeless in the middle of the floor, towering about twenty feet in the air while a few people in coveralls that matched Freddie's zoomed around it. One of the legs was open, exposing a mass of wires that tumbled out like spilled guts while someone worked on them. The mechs looked more machine than the automatons did, with domed heads and thick layers of armor like tanks. This one in particular had one arm that ended in a spinning blade, while the torso looked like it opened to reveal another tool hidden inside. “People fight with those?” Jonah asked. “Yeah!” Freddie exclaimed. “It's amazing. If you get a chance, you should watch. You'll never see anything like it again in your life.”
“Oh, Hattie,” Stella said, “would you happen to know any airships taking passengers this week?” “My father has reviewed all the licenses of the airships docked at the hangar,” Hattie replied, “and I do believe there are some passenger ships leaving at the end of the week. Why? Trying to make a quick escape?” “Of course not,” Stella answered. “I was wondering because my aunt talked to me about doing some business out of town, and I was thinking about going with her. We’ve never been on an airship before, but I’m sure she wouldn’t be opposed to the idea.” Fen glanced at her, and she purposefully turned her head away so she wouldn’t have to make eye contact with him. She was full of shit, and she knew that he knew it. Stella would never go on a business trip with their aunt; they didn’t even know what their aunt did.
“What do you mean the law isn't fair?” Reina asked. “It works exactly as it's meant to. Criminals get punished accordingly, and the rest of us get to walk free.” She smiled in a pitying sort of way and patted Stella’s hand like she was a child that just couldn't grasp the meaning of what she was trying to say. “The family business is always there, as I've told you for years. Someone has to take over after I'm gone.” Stella sighed in exasperation and drew her hand away from her aunt’s. She felt like a child as she crossed her arms over her chest and turned away, refusing to look at her, refusing to acknowledge the same tired argument she'd heard for years. She did not want to take over the family business; she didn't even know what the family business was. But she knew that her aunt had no discernible skills besides trying to manipulate people, so whatever it was, it couldn't be good. Especially with the amount of wealth she had. It didn't make sense for anyone to have this much money unless they did something illegal and immoral to get it.
Ari raised an eyebrow. “I thought we were getting half up front?” Fontaine glanced at Emil. They seemed to share some sort of secret conversation before Emil nodded and left the room, locking it again behind him. “I never put that in writing.” He leaned forward again, resting his hands on top of the desk. “You have to do the work before you get paid.” Ari rose from her seat, her hands balled into fists. Faye watched as Fontaine’s hand fell to his hip, his stare flat and blank as he ran a finger over the gun waiting there. Her heart picked up speed as she glanced between the two of them, trying to work out if she or Ari could draw her gun faster than the captain of the Royal Guard, if she even wanted to draw her gun on him at all. They could not kill him; he was far too important, far too protected. But if he aimed a weapon at Ari, Faye might just forget logic or reason and kill him anyway. She wouldn’t let it reach that point, though. “Ari,” she whispered, lacing her fingers through the other woman’s and tugging her back down to her chair. “Don’t argue with him.”
With a sigh, she looked around the room for a friendly face but found none. She finished the rest of her wine and left it sitting on a table next to an expensive-looking vase but did not grab another. After a moment, she spotted Fen across the room, seated in a window nook with his notepad open in his lap and a glass of white wine sitting next to him that looked untouched. He had already ditched his suit jacket and rolled up the sleeves of his white shirt. There were gray smudges on the side of his left hand from his drawing, and his black curls had started to escape the heavy pomade he'd used to style his hair. As she made her way through the crowd toward him, she wobbled in her black pumps, and she had to force herself to focus on her movements so she wouldn't fall over. She felt like she was just learning to walk and couldn't control her movements. “Are you doing okay?” she asked as she approached and sat down next to him.
A peach soft serve margarita served in a pink flamingo floatie coaster
A knock at the door startled her as she was removing her robe, and she barely had it back on before an automaton came barging in without invitation. “The mistress of the house requires you in the lounge,” it said in its deep, monotone voice. “You’re supposed to wait for me to say ‘come in’ before you enter a room,” Stella snapped at it. She watched as a light at the top of its head brightened, the way it did when it was receiving a new order or trying to compute something. After a moment, the light faded, and it said, “I will wait for you to say ‘come in’ before I enter a room.” “Thank you.” It was annoying, to say the least, when Reina sent an automaton to her room instead of a human servant. She would much rather see Ruth’s kind, smiling face than the cold, lifeless features she was staring at now. “If she sent you to get Fen also, don’t. Stay away from his room.”
“Look at me.” Faye grabbed K's face, forcing them to look at her. Terrified green eyes met her own. She could feel K trembling. “I need you to be strong. I need you to be smart. We are going to be fine.” “Swear?” K asked, their voice sounding so childlike it nearly made Faye's heart break. Faye nodded, sucking in a shaky breath as she offered K her pinky finger. “Swear.”
Ari looked, her lips pursed in a thin line as she considered her, then nodded. “She's pretty. I can't say she looks anything like her father.” Faye grinned, and something shifted in Ari's gaze. She looked almost…sad. “She's so young. I wasn't even thinking about marriage when I was her age.” The weight of her words felt deeply personal, and Faye thought that maybe it was one more piece of information she didn't know about Ari. Had Ari been engaged? Or married? She shook the thought away, deciding not to ask. Even if she did, Ari would smile and smoothly sidestep the question with a little joke or sarcastic comment. Just as she always did. “Should we go and offer our congratulations?” Ari asked. The very last thing Faye wanted to do was submerge herself in a group of rich, drunk women, but she thought it might be impolite not to say anything. “Okay,” she said, a little hesitant.
“Oh! There are some Calcynian street foods that I've been dying to try,” Hattie said. “Perhaps we could grab a bite and then head over toward some of the rides? We could do the boat ride around the canal first before we try something more intense. There's a parade at noon, and we'll have to see that, of course…” They were moving again, Stella’s hand on his arm as they navigated through the crowd. Hattie continued to chatter faster than Fen could process anything, listing off the day's packed agenda that he had not agreed to. Just the thought of trying to do everything around them was exhausting. Two days ago, he probably would have loved to spend his birthday looking at exhibits and going on rides and trying new things, but now, all he could think was that he was another year older, and Charlie was permanently stuck at seventeen. “I know you don’t want to be here,” Stella said, “and I’m sorry, but I don’t trust anyone in that house right now.” She waited, but he didn’t respond, and she sighed. “Is there anything I can do to make the day better?”
What Eli was referring to, however, was an automaton standing on top of a ladder and hanging a banner up on one of the stages. They hardly ever saw automatons in the Cadence Sector, save for the few being employed by the police, and even then, they'd never been so close to one as they were now. It was a newer model, with a sleek, slate gray body and eyes that lit up a dazzling sky blue. The face on it was uncanny, with a thin, pointed nose and round, full lips, and the hand that held the hammer was fully functional with five long fingers like any normal human's, unlike the older models that had looked almost like scrap metal pieces thrown together. “They're advancing kind of fast,” Jonah remarked. He remembered seeing his first article about them maybe a decade ago and talking about it in school. His teacher at the time had been worried they were going to take her job. “Right? I bet we'll be working alongside them all week,” Eli said, sounding genuinely excited about the idea.
They left the ballroom and made their way through the foyer, where a few of the partygoers lingered in small groups chatting away from the noise. An older woman stood on the grand staircase, her arms draped over the banister and a full bottle of wine loosely clutched in her hand. She looked like she was about to vomit all over the perfect, pristine polished floor. Down one of the hallways, Faye noticed a young woman pressed up against the wall by a young man who had his hand up her dress and his mouth on her neck. Fontaine walked past all of it, leading them past a large sitting room and down another hallway where all of the doors were shut. At the end of the hallway, a mahogany door with a gleaming doorknob and gold nameplate loomed between two potted trees. Fontaine pulled a key from his pocket and unlocked it, ushering the three others in before locking it behind them. Panic seized Faye as she heard the lock click. The walls felt like they were closing in on her. There were no windows, no other exits. They were trapped.
The only people who’d been able to withstand magic for an extended period of time were brave, strong-willed warrior types. Not him. Magic tore through most people like they were made out of sand. Some people could last for a while, but it killed their organs, broke down their bodies, aged them beyond recognition. Magic was never meant for human hands; it was a necessary, finite source that the world thrived upon to continue living and growing. But humans were greedy. Since the dawn of time, people took and took and took until there was nothing left of the earth, and then they moved somewhere else and repeated the same process. Magic was no different. They took, and they never gave back. “I’ll give it back,” he whispered to himself. “I’ll give whatever I need to give. I just want her to stop hurting.”
Damn it, she couldn’t handle any more visitors today. She didn’t want to see anyone, didn’t want to talk, didn’t want to do anything. She had to plan. But then she looked behind Ruth to the front door, standing open just enough to reveal Hattie Fontaine and Lorraine Underwood. They stood arm in arm, wearing a matching style of dress in different colors, loads of pearls, and brown cloche hats. When her eyes met Hattie’s, Hattie grinned and waved at her. “Hi there, gorgeous,” she said. “Come here and let me give you a hug.” Despite everything, despite all of the rage simmering underneath her skin, she let her feet carry her forward until she was in Hattie’s arms. The embrace was so warm, so gentle that she nearly wanted to weep. She hadn’t known how badly she needed it until now. “My goodness! You’re so wet,” Hattie said as she pulled away, holding her at arm’s length as her eyes raked over her. “What happened to you?” “I fell in the pond,” Stella answered with a shrug. “No big deal.”
“No, sir,” he said quickly, because he knew he would be much more polite than Eli. “We were just looking around. We're actually on our way to get registered for work at the expo.” Jonah felt Mabel’s hand clasp his, and he swallowed hard, trying to pretend he wasn't terrified of this powerful man with a gun standing in front of them. The cop's eyes narrowed in suspicion as he looked each of them up and down, his gaze lingering on Mabel for longer than it should have. Finally, he spoke. “Of course. There's a tent set up outside of city hall for registration. Why don't I escort you there?” Eli scoffed. “Don't you have better things to do?” Mabel’s grip on Jonah’s hand tightened. “Than make sure the citizens of my great city make it somewhere safely? I couldn't think of a higher honor,” the cop said. “My job is to protect, after all.” Eli's mouth curled into a smirk, but before he could respond again, Mabel said, “That would be lovely. Thank you, sir. We're a bit out of our element here.” She chuckled nervously.
The Tenth Doctor and Rose Tyler standing on the beach, episode 13 of season 2 "Doomsday"
He stole a quick glance around the rest of the arena. It was the largest building he had ever seen in his life, bigger even than the massive, busy sawmill he worked at. Seats rose up several stories toward a bright blue sky, and all around, hundreds of people and automatons were milling around already, going about whatever task they had been given. A mech sat lifeless in the middle of the floor, towering about twenty feet in the air while a few people in coveralls that matched Freddie's zoomed around it. One of the legs was open, exposing a mass of wires that tumbled out like spilled guts while someone worked on them. The mechs looked more machine than the automatons did, with domed heads and thick layers of armor like tanks. This one in particular had one arm that ended in a spinning blade, while the torso looked like it opened to reveal another tool hidden inside. “People fight with those?” Jonah asked. “Yeah!” Freddie exclaimed. “It's amazing. If you get a chance, you should watch. You'll never see anything like it again in your life.”
A paca - small jungle rodent related to capybaras and guinea pigs. It's brown with a white belly and markings on its side. It looks like a smaller version of a tapir.
This was a cause for celebration though, and he knew none of them were actually careless enough to get themselves caught. “Yes,” he finally said. “But not too much. We have work tomorrow.” Eli rolled his eyes, but he was smiling as he made his way down the steps. “Fine, fine. We’ll be responsible.” “I’m coming with you.” Eli and Jonah both looked at Mabel. There was a hard glint in her eyes, an air of distrust, which was normal when it came to Eli. When she wasn’t fawning over him, she was complaining and talking about how much she hated him. “No, you’re not,” Eli said. Mabel’s eyebrows shot up as she crossed her arms over her chest. “And why not?” “Because all you’re going to do is scold me and be judgmental and whine about how –” “I do not whine.”
“It’s really not that serious,” Freddie said, clearly exasperated. “It’s just that there’s a lot of people in the city and we’ll all be in close quarters with each other. There have been a few illnesses going around, and they just want to check.” Maybe this was just how things were done in the Center; they wanted to keep diseases as contained as possible to protect the citizens here. He didn’t argue as Freddie continued leading him through the building, but his rapidly thudding heart and the chill bumps creeping along his skin betrayed how uneasy he still felt. As they emerged into a large, open stadium, Freddie directed Jonah to a table where a few people in masks sat with clipboards. It all looked normal enough, and he supposed it was reasonable to worry about an outbreak at an event like this with people from all over the world. But it still kind of bothered him. There was no possible way they were taking blood samples from every single person that passed through the expo, so they must only be concerned about the workers, who were largely from poor neighborhoods.
“Fresh muffins!” she announced. “Did you just make these?” Jonah asked, snatching one off the plate. It still had a bit of warmth to it. “Did you not get any sleep?” “Jonah, you know I couldn't sleep after –” She paused when she noticed his dad standing in the room, and she huffed out a laugh. “I'm just so excited to work at the expo!” She handed him a muffin, then gave one to Eli and set the rest of them down on the table. “I hope this brightens everyone's morning just a little bit.” “You're an angel,” Eli said as he bit into the muffin, and Mabel’s face turned a bright shade of pink. “I try,” she said with a shrug. “I want to make sure everyone's happy.” “You're not going to ask about my face?” Mabel grinned. “I assume your brother hit you, and I bet you deserved it. I'll fix it up for you though. If you want.”
Nicholas offered his arm to her, and her mind was so busy coming up with the worst scenarios possible that she didn’t even think about it, just looped her arm through his and let him guide her toward the back door. They walked past the pool, past the tennis court, making their way to the massive garden full of vibrant flowers of all colors. Sunflowers stretched toward the sky, their faces turned up to drink in the sun’s golden rays. Bees and butterflies danced around the rose bushes, flitting around one another as if they were playing some sort of game. The smell of lavender permeated the air, normally sweet and relaxing, but the beauty of the world around her could not alleviate the darkness brewing inside. They were deep into the garden, close to the petunias and snapdragons that circled the path around the small fish pond before Nicholas finally spoke. “Stella, I need you to listen before you say anything, okay? Let me finish what I’m saying before you decide to tear me apart.”
“Ugh,” Ari huffed, rolling her eyes. “Why does no one ever want to believe me?” Faye grinned and grabbed one of Ari’s suspenders, pulling her close and wrapping her arms around her waist. “It’s just because you look so innocent,” she said, pressing a gentle kiss to Ari’s nose. “Hmm. It’s my eyes, isn’t it?” She sighed dramatically and draped her arms around Faye’s neck. “They’re too big and round. I’ll never be taken seriously.” “I love your eyes.” Ari grinned around her toothpick and stood on her tiptoes so that she was at eye level with Faye. She looked just as disastrous and beautiful as she did every day: silvery blonde hair spilling out from underneath a tattered newsboy cap, one suspender dangling loose by her side, the laces of her brown boots untied. Somehow, she still managed to carry herself like she was the sole authority in the room. Faye thought she might have fallen in love with her the second she laid eyes on her.
“How much alcohol have you had tonight?” he asked as he wrapped an arm around her waist to steady her. “Not –” She hiccupped. “Not enough.” “I think you've had plenty,” Nicholas said. “This is exactly why we had to put laws into place about selling the stuff. People don't act like themselves when they're drunk.” The song ended, and the crowd broke out into applause as another one started, this one softer and smoother. Nicholas held his hand out to her, and reluctantly, she took it as he guided them into the foxtrot, a dance she actually did know. The sour feeling in her stomach worsened. She was all too aware of every place his skin touched hers, and she wanted nothing more than to pull away and never let his creeping hands near her again. “Issa party,” she slurred. “I'm supposed to be having fun.” She didn't dare mention her parents to him and the grief she was trying to placate. She didn't want to know what he had to say.
“I'm not even sure why they need a statement from the two of you. I could probably solve it faster than those nitwits. Clearly it was one of the other staff members who did it.” “What makes you say that?” “Oh, honestly, Stella! Who else would it be? Surely you don't think anyone here would have anything to do with it. I told Julian, I said, ‘You’re going to regret hiring random wait staff off the streets,’ but he didn't listen to me. Now look what happened!” “Let's just not talk about it, okay?” Silence. Headlights flashed in the darkness, stinging Fen’s eyes. He wanted to cry, he should cry, but he couldn't find anything in him. Nothing but the smell of copper and the lingering feeling of Charlie's still-warm body underneath his fingertips. “I'm sure someone owed someone money or maybe a drug deal went wrong,” Reina said. “People shoot each other for far less in those areas.”
“Here,” Freddie said, when it felt like they had been walking for an hour. They were at a large building with an open roof that looked like it had seen better days. Freddie led him down an alley to a back door that was marked employees only and walked inside, not bothering to hold it for Jonah. As they made their way down a long, dark hallway, the smell of diesel fuel became so thick that it nearly made him dizzy. Somewhere close by, he could hear the sounds of shouting interlaced with drills and big machinery whirring. “Once you get in there, one of the medics will take your blood.” Jonah stopped short, his heart thudding painfully as he clenched his fist and ran his thumb over the gash in his palm. “My what?” Freddie turned to him, hands on his hips, and rolled his eyes. “Relax, will you? It’s just a drop so they can run a quick test and make sure you’re not sick.”
Stella worried her lip between her teeth as she watched Hattie drink. Now that they were away from the party, she noticed how tired Hattie actually looked. She’d been putting on an act all night, letting all of the wealthy people of the Center dote on her and wear her down while she pretended to be in love with a man she actually hated. “Are you sure you don’t want to wait for someone you love?” she asked. “We’re still so young. You’re nineteen! You have so much time –” “Time isn’t going to change anything, Stella.” Hattie exhaled a humorless laugh and pressed the rim of the bottle to her lips, but she didn’t drink. “I won’t ever be with someone I love. It just isn’t in the stars, that’s all.” She shook her head and sat up again, suddenly more alert than she had been for the past several minutes. Clearing her throat, she changed the subject. “And what’s wrong with you? Clearly you aren’t having a good time at my party, and I don’t believe Nicholas is the whole reason.” She smiled softly, nudging Stella with her shoulder. “I don’t throw bad parties, Stella. What’s going on?”
Another automaton passed by, stopping to ask her if she would like some more wine. Stella didn't answer but took a fifth glass, holding it but not drinking. It had only been half an hour since they'd arrived. The rage that had been burning low in her gut all day was dormant underneath the effect of wine, but it still simmered low, waiting for an opportunity to blaze into an inferno. “You should probably eat something with that.” Stella startled at the sound of the sudden voice in front of her. She glanced up from staring into the depths of the blood red wine she was holding and made eye contact with a waiter, a young boy close to Fen’s age, just a foot or so away from her. He looked nervous as he hovered before her carrying a tray of what looked like some puff pastries, as if he expected her to snap at him for even speaking. “I…feel fine,” she said, but she knew the words had come out slurred. The waiter grinned at her. Sighing, she squeezed her eyes shut and rubbed at her forehead. The lights were starting to make her feel dizzy. She really wanted to lie down.
A picture of Abigail Cowen smiling and holding a mug
No, he wanted to say, because it didn't matter anymore. It wasn't like they were going to come back. But before he could even come up with a response, she leaned forward and whispered, “What if they didn't die at all?” Fen’s breath caught. He could feel her eyes boring into him, but he didn't dare move, didn't dare look back at her. That would give her hope that this absolutely unhinged idea actually meant something. Of all the things he'd thought about and examined over the years, he hadn't ever thought that those caskets were empty, because he knew unequivocally that they were not. As he'd stood there in the cemetery eight years ago in front of two caskets getting ready to be lowered into the ground, he had felt that other, the thing humming just below their skin and bones, and as he’d learned over the years, there was no explaining that to anyone. And knowing that he couldn't explain that in a way that made any sort of sense made fury lash at his insides once again. They were gone, dead and buried. That was that. Thinking otherwise was foolish.
It was the second time Fen had abandoned him, and this time, it had cost him his life. He stripped off his shirt with trembling hands and then went to the sink to scrub himself down. He was certain there wasn't anything left on him, but still, he scrubbed his hands, his arms, his face, every bare inch of him until his skin was left pink and raw. He wished he could tear his skin off completely. A knock came at the door, and Fen froze, breathing hard, staring at his reflection in the mirror and not recognizing the face that stared back. “Fen?” Stella called. “I got you some water and some clean clothes. Can I come in?” He hesitated. He did not want to see her, didn't want to see anyone, just wanted to sit on the floor and wait for death to come for him too, because it came for everybody eventually. Dying quietly in a familiar place was a small mercy. Some people died brutally, screaming and alone.
My tuxedo cat Tonks sitting next to me on the couch.
Nicholas deflated a bit. He'd obviously expected that to be enough for her to let her guard down, but she couldn't be swayed by such generic, heartless compliments. He searched her face, and a slow smirk grew on his lips as he drew close to her once again, wrapping his arms around her waist like chains keeping her in place. Against her own will, her heart started thumping, and she tried to swallow, but her throat was dry. This is what a rabbit feels like when the wolf has it cornered, she thought. “Perhaps,” he said, his voice slipping into a low, sensual whisper, “I don't want any of the others because they're easy. Perhaps I like the chase.” Her stomach was in knots. Bile rose in her throat. She looked around the room helplessly, searching for an easy escape, when a shriek of joy erupted from somewhere behind her and there was someone else’s arms around her. “Stella! My goodness, where have you been all night? Did you think you could get away without seeing me on my big night?”
As soon as Fontaine had asked to be led to the crime scene, Fen could feel himself shutting down. The world around him disappeared, and his mind felt like an old, dirty chalkboard that had been erased thousands of times but still had the vague impression of words that had been written on it over time. His feet moved on autopilot through the wine cellar as if he’d walked the path a hundred times. By the time he was escorted back to Fontaine’s office, he was barely moving at all. He knew Stella’s hand was on his back, guiding him, but he didn’t really register it. At some point he was sitting, but he didn’t remember how he got there. He thought Stella was beside him, Fontaine in front of him, but everything was a complete blur. They were speaking to him, but no words reached him. He stared ahead at the golden tassels hanging from the drawn curtains, unseeing, unfeeling. They were there for what felt like ages while questions were thrown at him. Stella gave him a pencil, put a notebook in his lap, but his trembling hand only hovered above the paper. He didn't give any answers, and at some point, Fontaine got irritated and dismissed them.