Oxer really embraced her inner white girl with the photography session today. Look at that aesthetic.
Unfortunately, half of our crew is not so lucky. Enjoy the emotional whiplash!
– Wysteria ❤
+ Phoenix
The meteor goes down with him.
It slams into the Jaguar with a crash like a bomb going off, punctuated by shrieks of metal. Tremors rip through the ground. I scramble away as fast as I can, stumbling back as the scene goes up in a cloud of dust and smoke.
Elias doesn’t come with me.
As the veil disperses, I see him there, crumpled on the ground like a wadded-up piece of paper, surrounded by pieces of metal and broken tarmac. My lungs seize; I rush back towards him as he tries to get to his feet, then collapses again before the sin.
“Run, Phoenix,” he gasps.
My powers snap to life.
Stabs of pain ripple through both arms like overpowered bees; I fight back a wince and face the sin, hovering so simply in front of us, yet there’s something in its stillness that’s like a predator in wait. I throw myself between it and Elias, shivering and making a terrible excuse for a hero.
Pain rips through my stomach.
An unvoiced shriek claws at my throat. I stumble back, narrowly avoiding Elias’s crumpled form. It’s like the pangs in my arms, but somehow worse. It feels like I’m caving in all of a sudden, the way it gets when you haven’t eaten in three days and the pain is so bad it clouds your vision. I double over, coughing, ignoring the fact that my energy is burning my skin through my shirt.
I know this pain. Bolts of fear add to it, mixing, making it ten times worse, because I can’t go back to feeling like this, to having no control over it –
But if there’s one thing that can cancel my fear, it’s more fear. And blurred vision or not, I see the strand of orange snaking towards me. Something snaps in my brain. Panic clamps around my heart, and all in a rush, I’m snapping backwards and energy is bursting out of me.
I don’t know how to describe it. I’ll go back to that herd comparison – it’s like the sheep all collectively see a wolf, panic, and take off in a stampede towards said wolf. In this case, though, a stampede takes the form of an explosion.
Golden light rushes forward. It fills up my vision like a screen, rushing towards the sin, the thing that had set it off, but I realize then that something’s different. There’s less energy than usual, I can actually feel some left in me, and the portion that did escape isn’t fanning out to destroy everything in its path. Instead, it’s collecting at lightning speed, forming a shimmering golden sheet over me like glass.
The strand of orange strikes the glass with a crack. The energy shudders but doesn’t move. Behind it, there’s a roar, another strike; another, another, each slamming into the sheet until it and the orange thing shatter like china. Sparks of gold retreat, scattering onto the beach; the sin’s appendage bursts and fades.
I stare. I’ve forgotten how to breathe.
The cloud is still. It must be staring me down, a tiny (well, by comparison) pathetic human that just deflected its attack.
It gives a low rumble. Then, with speed I never would have expected, it darts forward and sweeps over us, and everything goes orange.
That same pain rips through my stomach. I yelp and stumble, collapse in on myself, fall to my knees. Everything is orange. Everything is pain. I’m hollow and empty inside and all I can think is of the days when I couldn’t remember the last time I’d eaten, when I’d wake up in the middle of the night with hunger pangs, but I knew if I went into the kitchen I wouldn’t find anything anyway.
The cloud passes in seconds. It leaves me on my knees beside Elias, clutching my jacket, praying for it to be over.
— Hana
It’s sort of a blur, how we ended up here.
Regardless of what happened before – this, I can admit, is nice. I hadn’t realized how much of a toll traveling can take. The minute I sink into the couch, with its soft brown cushions and pillows, I very nearly topple over.
It feels like home. Or, at least, as close as we’re going to get. For as long as this lasts, I can enjoy an actual house, not a metal coffin driving to God knows where. I burrow into the pillows and blankets and release a shit ton of tension I hadn’t realized I’d been holding, all in one breath.
Valk can have all the popcorn she wants. I lean my head on the arm of the couch and let my mind go blank.
I’d forgotten that quality of re-watching old movies, the combined sense of newness and familiarity. Stuff comes back slowly, but it’s been so long that it’s just as good as watching something you’ve never seen. And come on, singing cats. Everything would be right with the world if we had singing cats.
Said cats are headed back to the mansion. At least, I think that’s what’s going on. Their voices are starting to blur. I hug the nearest pillow and close my eyes for a second –
Something warm leans on me.
I am immediately awake.
My eyes fly open, but the rest of me is too bogged down to move. I haul my head up and crane it around to see Valk cuddled up against me. Her head dips to the side and falls on my shoulder, spraying curls everywhere.
I stare for a second, watching her closed eyes and her half-open mouth and the way her weight drops onto my side. Valk. Touching me first. And looking really cute doing it. It all takes a moment to process, but the moment it does, I remember the hug and the shoulder touch and everything from earlier. No one exploded, no one freaked out. And this is happening now.
She’s so warm, too. Better than just the blankets.
I hesitate for a second, then put my arm around her shoulders.
Man, she must really be out. No reaction at all. Just the soft sound of her breathing and cats singing in the background, just me putting my arm around her with no one else to intrude. She really is like a kitten. A cute one, too, that’s starting to snore a little.
My skin prickles where it touches her shoulders. Furbae is still curled up in her arms, so I give him a pat with my free hand as I watch Valk with a smile spreading onto my face.
Then I realize.
She is cute. Very much so, as I’ve said before, but this is a different kind of cute. A gay kind.
My stomach plummets.
If I had more energy, I would tense up. Instead, it feels like every nerve in my arm gets cranked up to full sensitivity. Suddenly there’s a distinct feeling of fabric against skin, a hyper-awareness of the warmth clinging to her, and I feel like I should jerk away. But I don’t.
There you have it, folks. The feeling that you’re doing something wrong, but you keep doing it anyway.
We just got to the point where we could touch each other. And we’re friends, finally! But she’s not cuddling up to me so I can look at her and think “hey, she’s attractive.” No. Fuck no. We’ve got a balance here.
Something just changed. Shit, man, if my stupid brain didn’t crank out stupid thoughts, I wouldn’t be feeling so weird about completely normal acts of friendship. I do this with Nick all the time. But no matter what kind of rationalization I cram in there, my brain keeps countering with the same thing. Yeah, you’re fucked, but look at how squishy her cheeks are!
Amidst all the stomach-wrenching realizations, there’s still that tingle in my arm, and even if there is an awful new layer to this… it’s nice. Cuddling with Valk, I mean.
I swallow. Then I lean against her, tilt my head against hers, and watch the movie with way too much barreling around inside my head.
+ Phoenix
The pain ebbs away.
I register that I’m in the parking lot by the beach. The Jaguar is a foot or two away, reduced to a pile of smashed, smoking metal. And, somehow, I’m still conscious.
Somehow, I made a shield. I’ve never done that before. Somehow, this did not culminate in my usual explosion of energy. Instead, it had the sense to… restrain itself, I guess, and even though I’m drained, I don’t feel like an empty shell.
That level of thinking is giving me a headache. I’ll save it for sometime later.
In the meantime, I focus on taking breaths that deepen as I stop feeling like I’ll die of starvation. Some small hunger lingers, but at a normal human level. As I recover, I can finally straighten up again, and then I see Elias.
Elias.
He’s still sprawled on the ground. My heart seizes; in a flash, I’m scrambling the few inches over to him, despite the protests of a body that hasn’t fully recovered. I ignore the resistance in my limbs and lean over him, bitter worry filling my throat. “Oh God, Elias, um – I’ll handle this.”
His breath comes in shallow gasps. With the gentlest touch I can manage, I roll him over, brushing away the hair that’s hanging in his face. It must be something with his chest, with the way he’s breathing and how he landed.
“Sorry,” I wince as I peel back the lower edge of his shirt. And, sure enough, there it is – a grisly bruise across his ribs. My stomach churns.
No time to be squeamish. I place my hand just below the bruise and close my eyes.
What if I can’t do it?
The thought shatters my focus. My eyes snap open.
I failed with Valk. After a perfect track record, I failed so gloriously that I couldn’t even put a dent in her wound. And now, without so much as a practice attempt in between, I expect to fix a rib that’s probably broken.
No. No. I can’t mess up. In a flurry of panic, I squeeze my eyes shut again and lean in close, stretching into the darkness for any glimpse of energy, any sign of his light. By some kind of miracle, I see it – a cluster of brightness ahead.
Everything relaxes and tenses at the same time.
I found it. This is a good start. But now my breath is catching in my throat, and suddenly I’m hyper-aware of how frantic I am – how rushed I was to seek it out, how my hand is shaking against him. I have enough logic left to understand that panic won’t help me here.
I force my breathing to slow. In, out, a steady, foolproof pattern. Like always.
I push forward again.
I know what to do this time. I give the slightest nudge with my own energy, and the barricade, softer now, gives without protest. A wave of warm energy flows forward, brushing against my own as I send it off as a replacement. It’s such a pleasant, gentle feeling that I could almost enjoy it – except for the pain that explodes in my ribcage.
The energy cuts off right before I wrench away; I cough and double over for the second time, clutching where it hurts, but that only makes it worse. It throbs with every breath I take. I squeeze my eyes shut and unfold, slowly, whimpering at the pain that comes with any movement but eases once the pressure is off my chest.
Lord, how bad was it? I can hardly breathe now – it makes me think it would be better to stop for a while, to give my lungs a rest. I inch away and lean against the Jaguar (or what’s left of it), squeezing my eyes shut so I don’t have to watch the world sway.
Elias. The reminder of his presence allows me to force one eye open, just enough to make out the streak of red and navy blue on the tarmac. I try for a smile that ends up a grimace. “It’ll wear off in a minute,” I choke, but the slightest movement of air makes the pain explode again, and all I can do afterwards is press myself against the destroyed car and wait for it to be over.
————
I don’t know how much time passes. Usually this stuff takes a few minutes – one or two for a small injury, more for something severe. I can’t even look forward to feeling better. All I can do is curl up and wish I were passed out or dead to put me out of my misery.
But I don’t die, even though I think I might. After what feels like a very long time, the pain morphs into a throb, then an ache, and I can unfold myself again. My breaths come in frantic gulps, sore lungs aching with each one.
Finally, I sit up and lean against the Jaguar, removing my hand from the spot that still feels hollow. I can see Elias again, not just a blob of color, and that alone brings the tiniest smile to my face. “Sorry about that.” It comes out a rasp; I cough.
“If you need to call Hana – “ another cough – “you can use my phone.” I make a lame attempt to reach into my pocket, but the movement tugs at my ribs, and all I can do is wince again and sink back against the ruined Jaguar.
— Hana
Listen, this ain’t my first rodeo. I know how these things happen. There is a specific moment of “fuck” when you look at someone and realize they’re attractive, not just in general but to you specifically. Normally, this happens in a controlled environment, when you and the guy or girl or whoever are going out for coffee and the light makes their smile look extra pleasant. Then you can excuse yourself and suffer through your feelings the healthy way. Alone.
I can say with certainty that I’ve never had this realization while pressed up against somebody, watching a Disney movie.
I stare at the screen and suffer.
These thoughts come in hordes. First there’s just one, but oh no, one turns into more and now I’m thinking about this in way too much depth. I thought she was cute one time, maybe this doesn’t mean anything – but no, she was cute that other time, too. Shit, it’s getting worse.
Someone raps at the door, and I nearly jump out of my skin.
“Hot cocoa’s here,” a soft voice murmurs. I twist around. Heading across the room is none other than Hipster Boy, a big smile on his face, paint in his hair. He sets the tray of cocoa down on the table in front of us. My arm tightens, just slightly, around Valk.
Maybe it’s because I’m curled up with her and this dude walked in. Maybe it’s because I’m trying to untangle my thoughts. Maybe his artist shtick is pissing me off and he kissed Valk earlier, which doesn’t make my stomach feel great – no matter the reason, a splotch of darkness twists in my gut.
The art kid throws a glance our way, steps back. His smile is starting to waver a little. “Sorry,” he blurts, taking another step back, starting to look as awkward as his presence feels. A twinge of guilt strikes my heart for thinking that, when he’s making a hasty retreat like an apology – but I can’t pretend I love him being around, either.
She is cute when she sleeps, my head agrees with him, and my heart gets stabbed again.
“Quick introduction: the name’s Octavian,” he adds with another submissive-puppy smile. “And, uh, before I leave you alone… I wanted to say sorry for earlier. I know it was probably a shock seeing me come out and, uh… kiss her in front of y’all.”
It never ends. Can we please go back to watching Disney movies?
“Do you guys need anything else?”
I haven’t said anything. I’m still watching him. I’ve got to reply somehow, I know that, but the combination of exhaustion and too many other things is leaving such a mess in my mind that all I can do is stare. Yes, I want him to leave. But then I feel kind of guilty, and I don’t know what I want, and for the love of fuck let’s forget any of this happened and finish our singing cat movie like normal friends.
I push the feelings aside for a moment, look up at him properly. “Yeah, I’m Hana. The other guy is Phoenix.” I make a vague gesture with one hand, like he’s here. Then, with a certain degree of pain, I mumble, “Thanks for the cocoa.”
This kid – Octavian – is leaving a dark spot on our whole night and there are a lot of questions pushing at my throat, but I manage to pick one and look him dead in the eye as I say it. “What’s up with you and Valk?”
It comes out accusatory. Aggressive. I cringe slightly, glance back to Valk. The sight of her neutralizes whatever anger is in me; I sigh and glance to Octavian again, softer this time. “With the… kiss and everything, I mean. I heard you weren’t her boyfriend.”
Please don’t be her boyfriend, I pray, just for good measure.
Saligiare 