#you could snarl if they get close. maybe not conventional but probably effective | Explore Tumblr Posts and Blogs

starr-fall-knight-rise · 4 years

Text

Humans are Space Orcs, “Room Service.”

“How is he?’

“As good as he can be given the situation.”

“And how good is that?”

….

…

“Not good. No good at all.”

Ramirez, Dr. katie and krill peered in through the doorway, trying to be discreet so the figure inside might not notice their presence. He stood alone on the bridge, in the dimmed light of the late hour rimmed only by the glowing neon of the console lights.

“Someone should talk to him.” “Not me, I am defective in human emotions.” Krill announced

“I talked to him last time.” Katie said, turning to look pointedly at Ramirez.

Ramirez nodded, gathered himself up, and then stepped onto the bridge, his boots quiet on the floor as he moved across the intervening space.

Gently, he reached out a hand and placed it on the other man’s shoulder, “Adam… it's getting kind of late.”

Adam didn’t even bother to look over at him. Though the dim lighting did much to hide his gaunt appearance, it was still evident through his sunken eyes, scruffy hair, and weak old facial growth that he was not himself.

“Tell Dr. Katie and krill that they can stop spying on me and head to bed.”

Ramirez paused before continuing with some measure of guilt, “They are just worried about you, you’ve hardly slept, barely eaten and-”

“One month Ramirez, Shs been gone ONE month and only God knows what they are doing to her.” He shivered, his single, haunted green eye welling with moisture in the light of the console.

The tears did not fall.

“Somewhere out there some BASTARDS are cutting her to pieces. And I… I can’t find her Ramirez.”

He took a deep tortured breath, one arm around his chest, the other hand cupping his chin, running a thumb over the scruffy growth on his face and chin.

Ramirez kept a hand on his shoulder opened his mouth and then closed it again. What should he say what ‘could’ he say to something like this.

He turned his head looking Ramirez in the eye for the first time that night, and in the sharper light his appearance only grew worse, like a man who hadn’t gotten out of bed in a month…. Or in this case…. A man who hadn’t gone to bed in a month.

“I… I love her Ramirez…. I don’t know what I’ll do without her.”

The revelation didn’t surprise Ramirez, not in the slightest.

He squeezed Adam’s shoulder, “I know…. I know.”

***

Sunny lay on the floor of her ‘cage’ listening to the sound of a circular saw. Something that had only grown more and more common in her life over the past month…. Or at latest she thought it might have been a month. Then again to her, it felt like a year.

She didn’t even bother to lift her head, and she was too weak anyway, the drugs had that effect. If they really wanted, they probably could have left her unchained: she wouldn't have been able to lift her head, much less move.

One of her captors grunted and as he did there came a sort of crunching squelching noise as he pulled the Rest of the Drev’s carapace from his deceased corpse. The body rocked and then stayed limp against the ground. The man dropped the carapace to the side with a grunt.

“What did I say about damaging the goods.”

“We are just going to grind it up anyway so don’t even give me that.” The man paused as he looked over his handiwork, wiping orange gore from his hands and onto his pants, “never had this much of it at once.”

“Yeah and now we gotta ration it so as not to lower our prices.”

The second man looked over at the remaining Drev with narrowed eyes, “Guess this means you scarabs get break for a little while, now isn’t that nic.”

Sunny shivered feeling the cold of her skin on the bare floor. Aside from that chip taken from her shoulder, they had begun their real rituals on the forearm of her lower left, slowly stripping the carapace away in small chunks the perfect size to be bottled. A good portion of her forearm was raw and sensitive to the cold in the room. It made her sick to look at, and angry, but threw as nothing she could do. She had been continually sedated for the past month, and if she wasn’t she had been enclosed inside that steel box before being gassed.

All in all, there was no avenue of escape, and if there had been, she certainly would have tried.

Darkness shrouded her vision and she spent her last moments of consciousness staring idly at the other Drev lying prone in the darkness.

***

Adam jolted upright in his chair not having realised he had fallen asleep. He wasn’t sure what had woken him at first, until the soft sounds of feet registered to him from across the room.

He turned in his seat, only to see a large huling shape approach him from the doorway. Blue light glowed over the red carapace and Adam stood. Cannon, the only other person he trusted to understand what he was feeling. Golden eyes flashed at him from the darkness blazing with as much anger as he felt.

“Something wrong Cannon.”

“I just got a call.”

He hurried forward eager to hear, “What.”

“Some old friends back on Noctopolis was offered a vile of green liquid from a buyer. He claimed it had all natural contents, and could be used for a variety of ailments and beauty regimes. The bottle alone cost over 100,000 dollars.”

Adam gritted his teeth hands clenching into fists, “Does he know where to find this “Buyer”?”

Cannan nodded his large head, “He says he knows where he is staying, but is just a lead…. And…. well I… I was planning on looking into it myself. Conventional methods aren’t working, and I’m tired of sitting around as I know you are too.”

Adam’s knuckles grew white, “Where is this lead?”

***

Toni sat in his hotel room resting on the bed and switching rather mechanically through the channels. He ha two pillows behind his back and wore nothing but a shirt and boxer shorts. He had always thought that alien TV was sort of weird, and personally didn’t like the creatures himself, but it was lucrative business, and he was willing to deal with a few bug-like creeps if it meant getting paid exorbitant amounts of money. Even taking a ten percent for each sail, and making a sail only once a month, that was 10,000 dollars a pop beside his other gigs, which made him a very, very wealthy man.

A very wealthy man who definitely could have chosen better lodgings, but somehow still liked the aesthetic of back alley seedy motels. There was just something about the distantly loud music and the couples fighting in the next room that reminded him of home, not his own home, for his childhood and been surprisingly normal, but his home back on earth in his little apparent in the understreets of New York.

He glanced over at the side table, where his last vial was sitting, glittering in the overhead light., a bright electric blue.he bet he could sell it for a markup without the boss knowing, and maybe squeeze a little more cash out of the sail without anyone being the weiser. Besides, its not like anyone was going to miss money the didn’t expect to have.

The thought made him smile.

He sighed deeply and leaned back in the pillows, closing his eyes halfway as he prepared to fade into a sort of fitful sleep.

And that is when the loud knocking came on the door.

He jolted upright cursing and sat up.

The knocking came again and he cursed violently throwing his feet over the side of the bed, “Coming!”

Feet sticking slightly against the rather tacky carpet, he walked up to the door and peered through the peep-hole. outside , he saw a man standing with a stack of towels and growled. He didn’t remember ordering more towels.

Still, he tugged the door open, “Wha-”

His voice died on his lips. The man who stood before him raised his head, scruffy unkempt and with murder in his eyes, and right behind him, outside of view of the peephole, was a massive Red drev.

“Room service.” The man said, holding up a stack of towels, and before Toni could react, the man used the towels to cushion the sound of his punch, a punch that was so powerful it sent Tony reeling backwards onto the sticky carpet.

Both man and Drev stepped into the room letting the door snap shut behind them.

It was only then that Toni noticed what the man was wearing.

A metal exoskeleton of shiny silver metal and whirring actuators.

He knew what tat was.

Iron eye armor.

He had sold one on the black market not so many months ago.

Which meant he knew what it could do.

He crawled back across te floor hands over his face, “please don’t… I y-you got the wrong guy I… I don’t-”

The man reached down with both hands and hauled him into the air as if he were a kitten. The suit he wore hissing and spitting below him like a dragon, “I think the fuck not.” His human eye rolled wildly in his head, but Teri culdnt help but notice the mechanical eye fixated upon him at that moment, the appriture zeroed in on him like a targeting system, which it might well have been. He knew Tesraki work when he saw it.

“Adam.’

The man paused and turned just in time or the two of them to see the Drev pick the blue vile up from the bedside table. In that moment of horrible silence, Teri knew what was coming next.

He heard the appriture of the mechanical snap shut zeroing in on him, and then an explosion of pain through his back and body as he was slammed into the floor.

“WHERE DID YOU GET THIS!” the man screamed

He gasped and choked even as he was slammed into the floor again.

“I SAID WHERE DID YOU GET IT!”

The big Drev was holding up the vile now, holding it up like a conviction. A sword held over his head.

The green eyed man was so mad with rage that he feared he would die before he could even answer.

But he calmed down just enough, to allow him a breather and to choke out he words.

“A….an old f-friend told me to sell… it.” He choked out his voice high and squeaking past his rapidly crushed airway.

“Where are they!” The man snarled, teeth barred little drops of spittle flying from his mouth and reflected in the seedy dim light above. His pale skin was so red with pure rage that he wouldn’t have been surprised if the man burst a blood vessel.”

He thought about the money of course.

Thought about how much he would lose if he told this man.

Thought about losing a good seller and buyer.

Thought about all the money he had in the bank right now.

And quickly determined that he had rough to buy a small moon to retire.

“Ok ok! I don’t know where he is exactly!>” The man’s face screwed up into a look of rage and he stammered slightly, “W-woah I said i don’t know ‘exactly’ but I know ‘approximately’. They tend to orbit A136 because of its hub connections with other planets and its central place within the smuggling ring.”

“What class ship do they own.”

“One of those luxury cruisers…. Big thing, fo like civilian transport or some shit, but they use it for cargo. I…. l look man I have no idea what they did to you, but I’m just the fence. I had nothing to do with the actual operation, hell I don’t even know where they get the damned stuff.” For a moment he was pretty sure that he was going to die. More sure than he had ever been about anything.

But then with a light whirring the man stop.

He was breathing hard, his face was slick with sweat and his hands trembled, but at least he seemed to have decided not to murder him.

The Drev on the other hand, still holding the bottle, looked at him with such malicious intent that his life flashed before his eyes a second time. He closed them not willing to see his death if it was coming. He didn’t need to know anything and didn’t want to see it.

And he waited

And waited

The next time he opened his eyes, the room around him was empty, the vile was gone and he was left alone with a few cracked ribs and a determination to retire from his life of crime.

Whoever those people were, he never wanted to see them again.

Besides it was as good enough a reason as any to retire early.

***

Sunny awoke to the door opening with a hiss; she was feeling a little better today, if not a bit groggy and disoriented. Her arm didn’t hurt so much, which meant the missing carapace was already healing over. Still, the cold felt strange and unwanted against her skin, and she held the arm close to her body where it was warmer, and the air didn’t seem so strange.

The voices grew louder, and she was surprised to hear a woman’s voice joining in with the man, “Lady, Bennett, I… admit we are surprised to see you here. We assure you, our supply chain is still functioning perfectly.”

The woman’s sharp voice pierced the air like a blade, cutting into Sunny’s very soul, “I did not come here to discuss the function of your supply chain. I came here to discuss the product you sold me.”

There was a pause, “Are you… dissatisfied with the outcome ma’am.”

“No, I enjoy the product, but I wish to purchase in another color. None of your buyers have anything other than this…. green color, which is nice for in the winter when I am missing the spring, but I want something more cheerful for summer. My daughters and I, that is, which means I would be willing to pay for at least three of your bottles if you have any.”

The men paused and glanced between each other, “well…. The process is not… something that someone like yourself…”

“Show me the stock, boy or you lose my business.”

The men paused and then agreed, and the slow footsteps came up the hallway.

She heard the sound as the people passed into the room and slowly lifted her head.

Her two captors, and a older, but still elegant woman stepped into the room, and despite the gruesome scene before her, she did not flinch, staring around at the captive Drev in various stages of drug induced sleep or drug induced exhaustion.

Sunny d her best not to ganer to much attention, but as soon as the woman’s eyes fell on her, she knew the fight was lost.

The elegant woman made a b-line across the room and straight to her cage, “This one, this small blue one.” I like her coloring.

She paused, “Open the cage.”

The two men did as told with no argument and sunny felt the breeze of the cage door as it swung open. The woman squatted down on her impossibly tall heels and grabbed Sunny under the chin, forcing her to look up. She tapped one of her nails against Sunny’s carapace. It made a sort of hard clattering sound, Sunny jerked her head away in the only symbol of defiance she could muster.

The woman smiled, the grin spreading impossibly wide across her face, “A very beautiful color…. My decision has been made.”

Sunny felt her heart sink down in her chest plummeting into her stomach where it was likely to remain.

The two men grabbed the chains and hauled down on them, lifting her from the cage and into a standing position.

“You may not want to watch this Ma’am.”

“I think I will be just fine.” She said, the smile never leaving hre face.”

264 notes · View notes

squishydoesstuff · 4 years

Text

Chapter one

Artemisia

San stood on the roof, observing the crowd surrounding the convention center. His target was here somewhere. Scanning for faces, San was entirely focused.

Well, until he wasn’t. San paused, his eyes finding a young woman. She was obviously underdressed for the event and cautiously looking around. Something about her didn’t fit right with this situation. She turned her back to him and disappeared into the crowd.

“San. San. San!” A voice crackled into his earpiece, snapping San out of his reverie. It was Yeosang.

“Yes?” San sighed.

“Did you find the target?”

“Not yet,” he grunted. “No, but I found something. There's a girl, she doesn't fit with the crowd. Something’s not right.”

“Alright, keep looking. Watch that girl if you can.” San rolled his eyes before raising his scope, he turned back to the crowd. Minutes passed before he got another com from Yeosang.

“Never mind, Seonghwa spotted him. Farthest left entrance, south side of building.” Yeosang growled the next part, “Find him or Hongjoong will have your head and probably ours too.”

He packed his rifle back into the suitcase. Go in the south entrance entrance and sweep each level.

San did as he planned. Actually, he did more than he planned. Confronted by a group of guards, he quickly subdued all of the men in his way. A voice fizzed into his ear as he began to move forward again. “San, watch it, there is someone else in the next room. I think they have our guy.” Seonghwa warned.

San found his target in the next room. He also found the girl from earlier with his target tied to a chair and holding a gun to his head. What the fuck was going on?

“Choi San. Sorry about that, but he’s my kill now. And you’re coming with me.” San held out his hand. Realizing she was trapped in a dangerous situation, the woman nodded. Just by looking, it was easy to tell whoever this San person was, he was as good if not better than she was. He grabbed her wrist before guiding her to walk beside him.

They exited the building and San contacted Yeosang. “Target is dead but I have extra… let’s call it cargo. Bring the van to the west wing.” San turned to the mysterious woman next to him. “What’s your name?”

“Can’t tell you that,” she shook her head. Her radio piece came to life in her ear. Esperanza was calling for her.

San’s voice pulled the assassin from her thoughts. “You obviously work alone so you’re protecting no one by staying silent. What is your name?” The van arrived before she could respond, saving the female assassin from answering.

Yeosang opened the back from inside and immediately frowned at San. “You said extra cargo, not a random pretty girl picked up.”

“She’s likely an assassin and had a hit order for the target as well.” San glared at Yeosang, “Something may be going on. Now, are you going to let us in or not?”

Esperanza

---------------------------------------------------

Wandering through the crowd, Esperanza looked around for her friend. She lost Artemisia coming into the building and now Esperanza saw her nowhere. Goddammit, where are you? We need to get this done and go. Reaching for her belt, Esperanza pulled a small radio out. “Raven, where the hell are you? Did you find the man?” Esperanza paused before trying again. “Raven, report in.”

Silence.

Esperanza groaned before muttering to herself, “Guess I’ll have to find him myself. I’m going to kill Raven when I see her again.”

Running to the stairs, Esperanza was surprised to find a guard dead on the ground. This wasn’t Artemisia’s kill, someone else was here. And possibly coming after them. Quickening her pace, Esperanza leaped up the stairs, reaching the top quickly before taking off down the hallway. At the end a door stood open with another guard slumped outside it. Concern coursed through Esperanza. Artemisia was in danger.

Barging through a partially closed doorway, Esperanza quickly searched the room, only to find their target tied to a chair dead and there was no sign of her partner. Racing over, Esperanza examined the body. Entirely focused, she blocked out her surroundings. The knots are definitely Artemisia’s style but she doesn’t use knives in interrogations.

Someone killed him and it wasn’t her partner.

Unbeknownst to Esperanza, another person approached the room. Stepping to the edge of the doorframe, a small male observed Esperanza. Who is she? Leaning forward from where he was hiding, he realized the man in the chair was their target. Who the hell is she and what is she doing with him? Silently, the man pulled a pistol from his side. Holding it in front of him, he stealthily crossed the room. He hit the distracted woman across the back of the head, effectively knocking her out.

Bending down to examine her, he realized he didn’t recognize her. He mentally cursed himself. Somehow someone else had found out about this job, and he had no idea who she was. I hope I don’t regret this later.

“Yeosang, there was someone else here. I’m bringing them back with me. Have something ready to restrain them.”

“You too, Hongjoong? They may be working as a team then.”

“What do you mean ‘me too’? Did something happen?”

“San picked up a girl. Said she was interrogating our man before San killed him.”

“We’ll talk when I get back, where are you?”

“West wing exit.” Hongjoong slid his arms underneath Esperanza and lifted her up. With that, he moved to the door and began toward the west wing.

Artemisia

---------------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Sitting in the van, San pulled duck tape from a bag and turned toward the woman he brought back. “Put your hands out.”

She didn’t move.

“Hands.” San paused before speaking again. “Hands, now.” Sighing, Artemisia put her hands out. She couldn’t do anything now, not with two extra men watching her. San grabbed her wrists and wrapped the tape around them securely. “Don’t try anything. I’d rather not have to actually fight you.”

Turning from the front of the van, Yeosang called to San. “Looks like she might not actually be working alone. Captain caught one examining the body. He’s bringing her down now.” Artemisia felt her eyes widened slightly before she forced herself to regain her composure. They got Esperanza.

San shifted to look at Luna standing next to him. “Oh, you got a friend too? Guess I was wrong.” He tugged her to sit against the inside of the van before crouching in front of her. “Still, you won’t be saving anyone by staying silent. So tell me, what’s your name?”

Luna gritted her teeth before grunting, “I go by Raven.” A smile crossed San’s face.

“See, that wasn’t so hard.” Standing up, San moved toward the front of the van. Artemisia observed him carefully as he walked. He was tall, which seemed counterintuitive for an assassin. His hair was longer than the others and had two braids running down one side. There was a small grouping of tattoos on the side of his neck. He looked like a mischievous, and dangerous, person. “Where is our dearest captain?”

“Right here,” a voice sounded from behind him. Standing at the back of the van stood Hongjoong, a small teal haired woman limp in his arms.

Artemisia growled from her spot against the van. “Just what exactly did you do to her?”

“Relax, I only knocked her out.” Hongjoong passed Esperanza up to San and Yunho. Stepping up into the van, he scanned over the woman. “Is this the one you picked up?” Hongjoong nodded toward Artemisia as San glanced up from taping Esperanza’s hands.

“Yeah. Her name’s Raven, she’s a quiet one.” Hongjoong slammed the back of the van closed and exhaled before turning. He migrated closer to Artemisia, leering down at her.

“I’m going to ask this nicely, I suggest you answer. Are you two working together? And how did you know about our target today?” Artemisia silently glared up at the man in front of her. Ignoring his questions, she turned her head to Esperanza on the floor. After a few moments of quiet Hongjoong drifted back before looking down at the woman he found earlier. Tapping her shoulder with his foot he turned back to face Artemisia. “Maybe I should ask her instead. If you won’t answer, she might.”

“Don’t you dare touch her.” Artemisia snarled before looking down to her helpless friend. She exhaled harshly before glowering at the man. “Yes, we work together. As for your target today, believe it or not, the information was not hard to come by if you know the right people.”

“Who’s your contact then?”

“Don’t know, I didn’t ask for a name. As long as the job gets done, it doesn’t matter.” Artemisia glanced back at her unconscious partner. “Are you done yet?”

“For now, yes.” Looking down at Yunho and San, he pointed to the two women. “Watch them, make sure they don’t pull anything.” Crossing to the front, he stood next to the driver’s seat. “Alright, Seonghwa, take us back. Our job here is done.” Glancing over his shoulder, Hongjoong addressed Artemisia again. “I suggest you rest a little. You have a long ride ahead of you and nowhere to go.”

Realizing he was right, Artemisia leaned further back against the van, sliding down slightly before closing her eyes.

#squishywrites #ateez mafia au #ateez #bloodline au

16 notes · View notes

paranoid-fighter · 6 years

Text

Original Fiction: Chapter 10: “You’re not pretty!”

Alternatively titled as: the love interest has FINALLY been introduced!

"...home?"

Geoff raised his head, blinking owlishly as Griffith came to stand in front of his desk. "What?" "I asked if you were going to go home," the analyst smiled, "it's almost six, you know." "What?" "I said--" "It's almost six? Shit!" Geoff saved his work and put his laptop into sleep mode before jumping to his feet. "Shit! I'm gonna be late," he all but moaned as he scrambled for his keys and wallet, "shit, gonna be late. Shit...!" "Geoff--" Griffith could only stare as Geoff sprinted out of the room, listening to the Doppler effect of profanity that Geoff left in his wake...

The officer hurried through both the precinct and the parking lot as he fumbled for his keys. He hastily unlocked the driver's side door and flung himself into the seat. Cursing under his breath, he listened to the roar of the engine as he resisted the temptation to drive the car as it was meant to be driven. Instead, his car calmly drifted along with the slow flow of traffic while he himself all but frothed at the mouth with impatience...

Geoff's car all but skidded to a halt in his parking spot. He jogged through the parking deck and into the lobby, almost tripping over his feet from his haste. A quick glance at the elevators showed that they were all on the top floor of the building and, despite his frantic jabbing of the buttons, they didn't appear to be moving. Cursing again, he made his way to the stairwell and began the climb up to the top floor, taking the stairs two at a time in an effort to make it to his apartment as quickly as he could.

After the fifth floor, with four more floors remaining, he switched to taking only one stair at a time.

Gasping and sweating, he pulled himself up the last few stairs and dragged himself to his apartment. Geoff had scarcely made it over the threshold before launching his keys and wallet at the bowl by the door and rushing to his bedroom. A trail of clothes were left in his wake, haphazardly discarded as he made his way into the bathroom. He knew he desperately needed a shower and a change of clothes before he went to see Vincent. The last thing he wanted to do was show up in his uniform and risk being covered in bits of corpse; he was fairly confident that he hadn't gotten any pieces of Mr. Doe on him, but he wasn't willing to take that risk.

Especially not with Vincent.

As he waited for the water to warm, he read and reread the most recent texts from Vincent. Even though nothing out of the ordinary had been said, Geoff found himself unable to stop himself from scrolling through the conversation. Each message was another sign that Vincent was finally back. He hadn't realized just how long the month had been, nor had he realized just how much he missed seeing Vincent's smile. It wasn't a pretty smile, not by conventional standards, but his heart would always race whenever he saw that crooked smil--

--what?

He blinked as he looked up from his phone, frowning as he realized that the water had yet to warm up. Sighing, he adjusted the knob and looked back down at his phone as his thoughts resumed wandering...

...and wondering about Vincent.

Vincent, like his smile, wasn't pretty. At least, he wasn't pretty in the way that most elves seemed to be; there were just so many differences between Vincent and the average elf, little differences that kept Vincent from being "pretty."

And Geoff knew almost all of them by heart.

The most obvious difference was that Vincent had a heavier build; he was still a hair more slight than the average human male, but he definitely had a broader frame with far more muscle than most of his kind. Well, Geoff conceded, it at least appeared that way; he had yet to see Vincent in anything other than slacks and a button-down shirt. He could distinctly remember several different occasions where had seen the outline of muscle and could only imagine what other secrets lay behind the starched fabric--

Geoff put his phone on the counter as he frowned at the still-frigid water; it shouldn't take this long to heat up.

--and he found himself all but dying to know what Vincent looked like under those clothes.

Vincent was pale. There was simply no denying it. Even though he had only ever really seen Vincent's face, hands and neck, he could only imagine that Vincent's whole body was that same shade of alabaster. Or maybe, Geoff mused, Vincent wasn't really so pale and that he just looked like it because of his hair - which was another difference Geoff had memorized. Most elves that he had seen almost always wore their hair in some sort of elegant style, be it braids or with elaborate hairpieces that he swore were magic. Vincent, however, never wore his hair in anything other than a simple ponytail that was tied at the base of his neck. It suited Vincent, but Geoff found himself longing to see those locks hanging free. If Vincent's hair was out of that damn ponytail, he'd finally be able to tangle his hands into it and pull Vincent close--

Geoff stepped into the shower.

The icy water pelted him, freezing him to his very core within seconds. His shocked cry reverberated around the bathroom in a pitch that most sopranos could only ever dream of reaching. With his teeth clattering in his head, he tried to scrub himself clean from both the day and the thoughts of Vincent. There was no reason for him to be thinking of Vincent like this - no one thought about their best friend like that, right?

Right, Geoff nodded as he stepped out of the shower and began to dry himself off. It just wasn't right to think about Vincent like that; Vincent was his very best friend and he didn't need to think about how Vincent's grey eyes sparkled when he laughed or about how Vincent's crooked smile was the most beautiful thing he had ever seen--

"Goddammit!" Geoff snarled as he stared down at his erection, half-wondering how it had already recovered from its trip to the Arctic Circle. "I don't have time for this," he said as hurried to dry himself off, all while trying to ignore the growing predicament he found himself in. As loathe as he was to admit it, he wasn't a stranger to this scenario. There had been more than a few times now where his thoughts of Vincent had resulted in him taking matters into his own hands. However, it usually happened at a more convenient time, such as late at night when his thoughts of Vincent kept him awake and made him ever-so-keenly aware of just how large and empty his bed was...

He dressed as quickly as he had showered, pulling on the first things he laid his hands on that weren't lying on the bedroom floor. He scarcely attempted to tame his hair by, more or less, throwing a brush in the general vicinity of his head before rushing out of the bedroom and back to the front door. He pulled on his shoes, stumbling and overbalancing in his haste, before grabbing his keys and wallet... only to double back and grab his phone.

Cursing himself, Geoff ran back to the front door and made his way to the stairwell. He didn't want to take the stairs, but he only had twenty minutes to make the twenty three minute drive out to the brewery and the elevators were now stopped on the first floor. He thundered down flight after flight and out into the parking garage, whereupon he dove into the driver's seat. He took a deep breath and carefully put his keys into the ignition, forcing himself to calm as he backed out of his parking spot. Just like the drive home, he wanted nothing more than to put the pedal to the floor, but he made himself drive like any other law-abiding citizen - one that just so happened to speed ever-so-slightly...

With mere miles to go, Geoff's frantic thoughts began to slow as he stared at the familiar landmarks while inching through traffic. Even though the brewery was just mere minutes away from the busy highway, the atmosphere of Five Birds was as calm and tranquil as the thick trees that surrounded it. Those trees were probably why Vincent enjoyed the brewery, Geoff thought as he stared up at a towering pine - Vincent was happy whenever he was surrounded by greenery.

Geoff's car slowly rolled up to the intersection as his pulse quickened. All he had to do now was make it through this stop light, drive another mile and then he'd be there. Vincent was probably already there, too; it was two minutes past the hour and Geoff had never known Vincent to be late for anything. He had a feeling Vincent might give him grief for being late, but he knew the elf would be smiling that crooked smile--

That smile.

That goddamn smile.

"It's not a pretty smile," he told himself as he stared up at the stoplight, "and he's not pretty. Not at all. He's got a broken nose, his face's half paralyzed, he's broad-shouldered, he's paler than a corpse..." His thumbs tapped the steering wheel. "And I don't think he's pretty. Because he's not. And I don't like things that aren't pretty. I like pretty things--girls. I like pretty girls. Yes." He could hear his blood rushing in his ears as his stomach squirmed.

It was a half truth, but it was a half truth that felt sour on his tongue.

He liked pretty things, yes, but he didn't actually like pretty girls. He didn't even like pretty guys. No, he especially didn't like pretty guys.

He liked--

The light turned green.

Geoff's tires squealed as he sped through the intersection and made his way down the tree-lined street...

With his car parked, Geoff gave himself a quick mental shake before stepping out into the warm night air. It was finally time to see Vincent again. Vincent's month long trip was finally. They were about to have a beer together, maybe a few, and Geoff would get to talk with his best friend again.

He opened the door and stepped inside, only to fall still as he looked around the crowded bar.

There was a suit-clad man sitting at the bar with a long, black ponytail resting over his wool jacket.

He knew that ponytail anywhere.

That pretty ponytail, darker than night and smoother than silk--

"You're not pretty!"

Vincent blinked and stared over his shoulder at Geoff. "What?" "Shit! I said that out loud. Fuck. No. You're not pretty." Geoff swept his hands through his hair as his gaze fell to his feet. "I mean, you're beautiful. You're so goddamn beautiful. Your smile makes my heart pound and my brain go dumb--fuck! Shut up!" Geoff let out a frustrated whimper as he stared at his feet. "I mean--" "Do you want to start over?" Vincent asked kindly as he sipped his beer. "Please," Geoff whined. "Alright. Take your time; start again whenever you are ready." Vincent turned away as he motioned for the bartender to pour Geoff a drink.

Geoff took a few steps away and, after several deep breaths, walked back up to the elf. "Hey, Vince! Long time, no see. How was your trip?" Grinning his crooked grin, Vincent turned on his stool to face Geoff. "It was--" "Holy shit, you're /not/ pretty!" He breathed as he stared at the spectacular bruises covering half of Vincent's face. "What the fuck happened? Are you okay?" He raised a hand as if to touch the elf's face, but quickly shoved his hand into his pocket.

"Nice to see you, too. My trip went well, for the most part." Vincent took the second beer from the bartender and placed it in front of the empty stool beside him. He hid his smile as Geoff sat down next to him. "As for what happened, this is the result of a very skittish horse being taken on its first fox hunt." "What?" Geoff frowned as he sipped his beer - a honey wheat, brewed with local honey. "A fox hunt? You went on a fox hunt?" "The plan had been for me to attend, yes, but I found myself sitting in the first aid station instead." "Why were you going on a fox hunt? Where were you?" "I was in England. As for the fox hunt," he sipped his porter, "it was part of a client's attempt to win me over. It did not work." "Why? Was it because of the fox hunt?" "Oh, no, not at all. Well, maybe a little," Vincent smiled into his beer. "The truth is that the company was severely lacking in security controls and seemed to only operate on good hope. They did not make for a promising investment." "How'd you figure that out?" "Through what I can only describe as a month-long audit." "And a fox hunt." Geoff grinned. "...and a fox hunt," Vincent agreed as he sipped his beer. "And, I must say, the fox hunt was the best part of the entire trip. The owners of the company were quite trying." He sighed and shook his head before looking back to Geoff. "How have you been? How have the past few weeks treated you?"

Geoff opened his mouth to speak, only to flush as his stomach grumbled. He glanced quickly over at Vincent and felt himself blushing more as Vincent raised an eyebrow; of course the elf would be able to hear his rumbling gut over the din of the bar... "You have not ordered yet?" Vincent asked. Geoff shook his head. "Nah. Wanted to come see you first." "But Timmy's Tots is your favorite--" "I rather see you," the words tumbled from his mouth before he could stop himself. Vincent fixed him with his pale grey eyes before smiling; the right half of his mouth slowly curled upwards to match the left. "Well, then. Let us go and order." He stood up and looked down to Geoff. "Let me pay tonight; I promised you drinks, but let me buy you dinner, too. It is the least I can do to apologize for my sudden departure." "Why are you apologizing?" Geoff asked as he took to his feet, taking both of their drinks without even realizing he had done so. "You're making it sound like you didn't want to do this." "You are right," Vincent spoke over his shoulder, already making his way to the door, "I did not want to do this, but the owners finally came back to me with dates for the audit. I think they were expecting me to decline because of the short notice." "Well that's just poor planning on their part." Geoff grinned as Vincent threw him a wink. "You know, I think I see now why you didn't want to invest in them. No security controls and banking on last minute plans? Yeah, those're bad business practices." "That, and their main collateral was a very old bottle of wine." "You're joking." Geoff stared at Vincent as they stepped outside. "Seriously? They were using wine?" "Indeed they were - a rare bottle from an elven vintner." "I didn't even know you could use wine as collateral..." Vincent laughed. "You would be surprised to know what you can use as collateral."

Geoff continued staring at the elf as they made their way up to the truck. "You know, the more you tell me, the less sense this world makes. Wine as collateral... what next? Snack cakes?" Geoff stared at Vincent as the elf suddenly became very interested in gravel at his feet while biting back a smile. "You've seriously seen someone who tried to use snack cakes?" Vincent poked at a piece of granite with the tip of his shoe. "Not the cakes themselves - the recipes. But that was a long time ago and, surprisingly, Puppy Paw Cakes has done quite well for itself." He smiled as Geoff came to stand beside him in the line for the food truck...

With their orders placed, they settled themselves down at one of the picnic tables in the biergarten. Geoff idly rolled the pager from the food truck between his hands as he tried to look at both Vincent and everything that wasn't Vincent. After a few exchanges comprising of awkward stares and shy smiles whenever Vincent caught him staring, he let his gaze fall down to the table as he stayed quiet; in truth, he didn't trust himself to speak, for fear of blurting out even more embarrassing statements.

Unfortunately, Vincent wasn't letting him stay quiet.

"You never told me how the month has gone for you. How is work? Your pack?" "Pack's all fine. We went on a little trip to Raphael's cabin and spent the nights there. Saw some deer, ate some venison. It was a good time." Geoff gave a half-hearted smile as he continued to stare at the table. "As for work, it's gotten interesting." "Oh? A new case?" "Yeah. A new job, actually. Well, a temporary one. I'm doing some special work right now for the lieutenant. If he likes how I handle it, it might become my permanent job." "What are you doing?"

Geoff hesitated, unsure of how to proceed. Vincent already knew about werewolves and Geoff was sure the elf knew about vampires. And, by that logic, Vincent probably also knew about ghouls and other unsavory things. He licked his lips before placing the pager down on the table. "You know what ghouls are, yeah?" Vincent nodded. "Well, previously we had someone tracking them down. She's, uh, retired. At least, that's the story they're telling us. She retired and they needed someone to take over the work. They picked me. Well, I say they picked me. I think someone else pulled some strings to get me picked. I mean, I don't think I'm the best for it, but I'm gonna try hard to get this figured out." "Pulled some strings?" Vincent frowned. "I am afraid I am not following." "I don't really want to name him, but, uh," he tapped his thumb on the table as he thought through his words, "someone made a call to Clifford and convinced him I was a good fit for this. Actually," he shot Vincent a glance, "you might know the elf that made the call." "Just because I am an elf does not mean that I know all the elves in this city." Vincent frowned. "You sure?" Geoff grinned. "I mean, isn't there, like, a mailing list or something? Monthly meetings?" "Oh, ha hah," Vincent rolled his eyes as he took another drink. "So, does that mean you know Jean-Claude?" "Daemonis?" Vincent continued to frown. Geoff nodded and barked a laugh as the elf sighed. "You do know him!" "I... yes." Vincent slowly admitted. "I do know him. Sometimes I regret it--" "So you do know every--" "That was a bad example," he huffed, "and should not be counted." "Whatever you say, Vince." Geoff winked. "So when's the next meeting?"

Vincent snatched the pager from Geoff's hands as it began to beep. He stood up without another word and all but marched himself back to the food truck. Geoff watched Vincent retreating back - and backside - as he sipped his beer. As fun as it was to ruffle Vincent's feathers, watching his reactions were even more enjoyable; he always liked seeing Vincent's stoic facade slip, even if it only lasted for a few seconds.

#geoff simeon #vincent antares #jean-claude daemonis #nocte #paranoid-fighter writes original fiction #i guess this is pg-13 now? i did talk about geoff's junk #poor guy #he's so thirsty

4 notes · View notes