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The sound is what filters in first, obviously. The clinking of glasses, the shuffling of feet, and laughter, the house band finishing up a set. The only active sound comes with the first view: a Sidecar with a sugared rim pushed gently into his eyeline by a gentle waiter.

"Welcome to the Waylay, sir. The Manager said to give him a minute and hopes you enjoy your drink. When you're ready, however, he'd like to speak with you."

And when Charlie happens to look under the salted napkin, he'll find a little note:

Don't worry, Mr. Dowd. I'm just a manager. The only Kings are at the Blackjack table. And Yellow was never my color.

greatoldjohn

This isn't Spain.

John knows that the second he arrives, knows exactly where he is like a king staring down over a map of his kingdom that is older than him. He knows where he is and he knows the scent of Charlie's blood. That's what leads him to the man fallen on the ground, no longer in cultist's robes but once more bearing the wound that he'd arrived with, time now restarted on his life.

"Charlie!"

greatoldjohn

One day, back in 1934, Peter "Parker" Yang picked up a book that'd been shipped to their office, looked at the name on it, remembered something Strong'd told him, and he handed it right back to the mailman: occupant no longer here, return to sender.

Where it went after that is anyone's guess. Well, anyone's guess for a while.

It's while Dr. Lester Sheehan is going through Andrew's things that we find it again, a task he won't let anyone else do for reasons he has no interest in explaining to anyone living. No, this is his work, and he'll do it, even if his hands are shaking. He thinks he's almost done when he notices that a piece of the wall is damaged, broken in fact, revealing part of the leather spine of a book.

A very old book with a strange symbol etched on it.

He wants the distraction, even though a part of him knows he needs it, and it's not too hard to push the bits of wall aside to wiggle the volume out from the drywall. There's no writing on the front to identify it unfortunately, just that symbol again. Which means... he'll have to open it up to see what it is.

lost_first

He doesn't have much to bring.

Corvo brought most of their things, after all, so it's just some clothes and a few things he's carved for Emily in the meantime and of course, the box that is burning a hole in his pocket filled with his prize.

There's a part of him that'd said to take the time, to practice with his own, to get ready to use it offensively and defensively, but he'd watched Peter for decades... and the flat fact of it was that with Ed properly graduated and alive, there was nowhere else he wanted to be. No more excuses.

That's why he'll come walking in, a whole five minutes after Corvo, straight to their room, dressed in his uniform with his bag slung over his shoulder.

He's done.

He's home.

He's... going to make sure he doesn't think about it too hard until he's somewhere where he can collapse and pass out for a couple of days.

viking_seer

( Read more... )

viking_seer

Saga Anderson has a complicated relationship with stories.

But Saga Anderson, by virtue of being Saga Anderson, by virtue of being a member of the Family of Doors, has a lot of stories. All of them are hers. She might not know all of them yet, but she will.

This one starts on a world very much like her own, even if most of the people there don't know it because most of the people anywhere don't know how very weird and wild and complicated the world really is. All the same, the start to this particular branch of the story is pretty elementary: a girl meets a boy at school. The boy and the girl become friends. Puberty happens to the girl, and then to the boy, and while there are new feelings that happen because of that, the two are so close that they can't find a space for those new feelings anywhere between them. They're pressed too tight, hold too firm.

And when the boy joins the army after the girl tells him, begs him not to, there's too much room and all those feelings seem to drop into nothing, leaving only an ache.

Time passes in stories, of course, and it passes in this story: the girl becomes an FBI agent and the boy-

Well, a lot of unpleasant things happen to the boy in the Army. And then the boy happens unpleasantly right back, which has a lot of unfortunate and flammable consequences for everyone involved.

But because this is a story, the string of fate does not snap, even if both of them only feel the occasional tug on certain clear dark nights. Instead, it tugs them together again, with a cold case tossed at the girl and put on the back burner to deal with a few serial killers who are much more important because they're actively killing people at the moment, as opposed to this strange 'terrorist' that they for some reason have no pictures of despite being former Army.

Less time passes this time, and Saga Anderson ends up in Bright Falls. Saga Anderson, the girl, ends up in Bright Falls to deal with a walking corpse that showed up near Cauldron Lake, and you'd think this has nothing to do with this story because it has to do with another story, a story about Alan Wake. A story about Alex Casey. And it does have to do with those things, of course, it absolutely does.

Except that the janitor at the lodge, the one who doesn't seem to have a lot of problems with the dead cultist pieces that are all over her former field office, is a boy. Is the boy. And with everything else going on, she almost thinks she's going crazy when she recognizes his face, his smile, but she knows, the same way she knows that her daughter is alive, she knows those eyes. And that, instead of any of the other insane things she's dealing with in the moment, has her pausing and staring like... well, like a deer in the headlights.

greatoldjohn

Nothing gold can stay.

In the end, it had been the difference between having Arthur in his life... or giving Arthur back everything he might have had. Which means it had been no choice at all.

The Arthur he knew no longer remembers him. And while there are other Arthurs in other timelines, there are also other Johns.

He doesn't want to fuck with that, frankly. Especially if those other Arthurs and other Johns have a chance at a proper life, maybe even one together. So instead, he's taken the form he'd chosen and his new ability to wander the physical world and he'd decided to see what there was to see.

Or more precisely, he'd decided to try and find Charlie, wherever Kayne had popped him off to, which is how he ends up here. It's not that he doesn't know where he is, that it isn't Spain. It's that Kayne's an asshole, and he's checked Spain through the centuries and his friend is nowhere to be found. Thus, he's trying other places, other countries, with the thought that either Kayne had been lying (of course) or that Charlie had gotten moving somehow and ended up somewhere else.

Which is how he ends up at a manor house in the wilds of France during the 1800s, deciding for the moment that he doesn't feel like being social and instead will find a nice spot in the stables with some hay to lay back and consider where to look next. When the whole of space and time is open to you, finding a single person turns into something more like 'an atom in a galaxy' instead of a needle in a haystack, after all.

greatoldjohn

John didn't always wander.

For a long time, he had an anchor. Then he had another anchor. He'd thought it would continue like that right until her son went to war and didn't come back. They'd insisted that he stay behind, that he had to serve like anyone else.

John had wished then that he pushed. But it didn't change what had happened.

So now he wanders.

Sometimes he's a traveling musician. Sometimes he's just a traveler. It's not as if he needs money (though he has it) and it's not as if he needs a thing he'd spend it on (though he does at times).

It's while he's flying aimlessly as a bird that he hears the shot, watches a man shoot two other men... and in the bright sunlight, he sees his face.

The eyes are the wrong color, of course, but the rest of it. The rest of it makes his whole self ache, his heart weep. He stays a bird to follow this man, the people he kills, the efficient way he handles every situation he's put in.

...it makes him just a little nostalgic.

He indulges himself, slipping into the minds around him to see him as they do, on their level, like another person.

It doesn't help.

He watches him shoot the military men and stab the woman he had been protecting and shoot the man he'd killed to get a better job and blow up the diner.

...well. He steps in there. Lets his strange subject see and hear an explosion that didn't happen as the bombs explode harmlessly somewhere in deep space. The waitress he heals, removing "David's" face from her mind, from the mind of everyone there, and then it's just a matter of watching everything proceed at the high school.

He waits until the kids are gone to finally approach. If Arthur left him nothing else, it was the knowledge of how to make an entrance. Hence why a large man steps up through the artificial fog to pull out the knife.

"You should probably come with me at this point," he says quietly as he waits and watches to see what his own gifts can handle. Anything they don't, he can fix later.

firstgreenisgold

He'd been expecting the darkness. But he hadn't been expecting... the bedcovers. The ceiling. The fan spinning lazily above his head. The mattress beneath his... body?

He definitely wasn't expecting the cat sleeping next to him, and that creature, clearly alive, clearly a threat is what keeps him still, what has him opening his eyes (his eyes?!) trying to look around to find out what the ever loving fuck is going on.

Because he'd been in the Dreamlands. Well, he'd been about to exit the Dreamlands. He'd been thrown into the Dark World once again by the fucking King and he knew with agonizing certainty that the crash landing was going to be worse than the first time.

But then he was here. In this... room. A room that appears to be decorated for a teenage boy. There's a penant on the wall for... baseball? One of the other posters says something about baseball so it's a good assumption. There's a desk with some books that immediately piques his interest and on his bed table, a photo of a random woman he's never met and-

"Arthur?!"

...which sends the cat shooting off the bed in a distressed meow of fright as John jumps over to grab the picture and stare at the picture of Arthur with a random woman and some... boy. Some random boy.

Who the fuck is that? Did he- did he time travel?

"What the fuck is going on?!"

argent_dragon

It had been a long year or so.

Nearly dying, treatment, reuniting with his family... it'd been a long year and by the time he'd gotten his clean bill of health, he was waiting for another shoe to drop, something else to come up.

...the fact that the kids had saved up to send him back to Hawaii for a couple of weeks was not the shoe he was expecting, but given it would allow him to meet back up with some of the people he'd gotten to know during his time there and pay a visit to a couple of graves meant that he'd taken the trip sooner rather than later.

Of course, none of what he'd gone through had changed the fact that he seemed to attract trouble like a magnet, though he did wish that they'd at least let him get back into his clothes before they tried jumping him on the sands. They're going to pay for that lack of respect for his vacation time, however, whether they want to or not. After all, his main weapon is his fists and he hadn't left those behind when he'd dropped to just his trunks and gone swimming. Sucks for them, though.

argent_dragon

It's been a long road.

The strangest part has been all the people who've been walking it with him. Seonhee and Nanba had been frequent visitors, and even Zhao had stopped by and insisted on bringing him a meal or two despite the fact that he wasn't having much luck in keeping food down during the treatments. Ichiban came by when he could, but he was a busy man given everything on his plate.

...it still tasted amazing, though.

Haruka, of course, had made the trip a few times, as she could; even with the money he'd made under the Daidoji, there was still the household to consider but Haruto lifted his spirits enough that she made the trip every time she could. The first time he'd fallen asleep in his arms again, just like when he was a baby, he hadn't even tried not to weep like a child himself. Haruka had cried too and it had been... good. Very good.

As is the way of things, he'd lost his hair to start but as it usually did, he'd gained it back quickly enough, all grey now and he can't even be upset about it since he's alive to have that hair. It makes him a little self conscious when the new nurse gets assigned to his bedside: an American, obviously, but a beautiful one whose hair reminds him more than anything of the sunlight through the windows.

He'd prefer if he didn't have to let her know when he was finished with his meal. He's thankful that she was assigned after he'd needed help in the bathroom every time.

viking_seer

It's dark.

That's hardly new, of course. Arthur's been in the dark for months, an endless empty void of blackness that he can only guess at from the narration provided by his companion. But the other thing he is right now is wet, and not the rainsoaked or sweatsoaked or even snowsoaked dampness he's struggled through, no. He can feel the sogginess in every bit of clothing on him, on every inch of skin (beyond the forearm that is no longer his) and there's the lapping of the slowing waves flickering around his thighs to complete all of it.

Which makes 0 sense. After all, they'd been in New York, yes, but nowhere near the water. They'd been in a basement, in a house, in tunnels underneath the Earth. They'd been there, closing a portal, sending the forgotten one back to where it came from, saving Oscar and themselves from that horrible deal.

...right up until that portal had pulled at them via John, seeking to place him back where he was meant to go. Then the world had turned into noise and wind and they had tumbled through screaming darkness trying to tell up from down and left from right as strange, harsh music had started to drift through to them, their wild journey changing into a slowly spinning spiral, like they were being pulled down a whirlpool.

And now they're here. Wet. And-

"We've got a live one! Don't shoot! He's not a Taken!"

And someone is very gently moving to touch his shoulder as John, sounding groggy and faintly pained, murmurs deep in the depths of his mind-

[...Arthur? ]

lost_first

It's not often that he ends up in the ocean. Odd, one would think, for a pirate but he's not just any pirate. But they had been farther out from the island than they'd ever been, guided by a strange whale that several of his men had called 'unnatural' and 'worrisome' but sailors were a superstitious lot and Jamie knows what monsters he fears and which he sees as possible salvation.

And something that let him get farther from the island fell firmly in the second category.

That's why he wasn't prepared when the beast rammed the ship, sending him tumbling into the deep black seas that he hardly knew how to sail these days.

It isn't the first time, though. He's too old for it to be the first time, and he knows whatever fate will come for him won't stick. He will revive and he will fight another day, because Peter wills it, much to his burning hatred. So he hardly recognizes what's what when he looks down at the sands under his fingers and realize it is blackened instead of the perfect white of Neverland. He's staring at it still when he hears footsteps coming down to the shore and his first instinct is to find somewhere to hide until he recognizes the heavy steps of a man and not a child.

That has him looking up... and his eyes widening as he realizes that he does not know that face. Nor the strange bustling smoking place laid out behind him.

greatoldjohn

They've already done the celebration in Astarion's room and he's left to allow Astarion some time to process that, which just leaves this.

His deal. Their deal.

He assumes that it's in his room, waiting for him there, and he does everything else he possibly can before he goes to find Arthur. They need to do this together.

Especially because he's So Fucking Scared.

He usually wouldn't dream of just sticking himself to Arthur's shoulder but once he has, Arthur might be able to notice how amped he is right now, not in a good way or a bad way, but both.

[I need you.]

greatoldjohn

"... daemons are the external physical manifestation of a person's 'inner-self' that takes the form of an animal. Daemons have human intelligence, are capable of human speech—regardless of the form they take—and usually behave as though they are independent of their humans, although they cannot travel far away from their humans. Daemons frequently interact with each in other in ways that mirror the behavior of their humans, such as fighting one another when their humans are fighting, or nuzzling one another when their humans embrace, and such contact between daemons is unremarkable; in contrast, humans touching other people's daemons is taboo. When one's daemon dies, so does the human and vice versa. " ---Fanlore Wiki

epistemological

He knows where he has to go. Thankfully.

And after the week or so he's had, he needs it. He needs... Tim had helped, immensely. But he wants-

Well, the nice thing about no longer bearing the apocalypse on his shoulders and having no permanent inmate is that he can occasionally, actually, do just... what he wants. And right now, heartsick, he wants to see Jacobi.

...which is why Jacobi will probably be very surprised to find a narrow boat just sitting there in his back garden. He's tempted for half a second just to wait to see if he'll come out and notice, remembers how focused he can get on his work, decides 'fuck that' and slips out to head for the front door of what looks like a relatively simple two story home in what is apparently the suburbs of Chicago.

knewnottopush

The nice thing about the hotel they're staying at is that it has an attentive concierge, who through no fault of her own terrifies the living hell out of Arthur by telling him (under the pseudonym that he's been using since leaving Addison) that she has a number for him to call back. Arthur won't recognize it, as it's a number within New York City, but the message referencing a 'Blood and Sand' will, if not comfort him, let him know this is more complicated than a simple threat.

greatoldjohn

Vampires are immune to every illness, can heal from any injury, withstand almost any damage... other than ennui. The vampire who calls himself only 'John', whose terrible power rolls before him and sets others of his kind trembling...

Is absolutely no different in this regard.

He is ancient and terrible and he has a great court within the city that bores him to tears. Which is why he'd snuck out from their compound and gone, of all things, bar-hopping. Thus meeting Arthur and his partner.

It had been simple enough to get his partner out of the way; a call to one of his court had the man bundled up and carted off, a snack for later. The lack of a companion had made luring Arthur to the back entrance, the one with the alleyway, the one he could enjoy a meal in peace in, even easier than it might have been.

...and then he'd tasted the man's life. Tasted the depths of sorrows in him, the death that surrounded him, the strange shining light, dim and flickering but unwilling to go out, that was the shape of his soul.

Which was why, feeling almost possessed, he'd found himself ripping his arm open and pressing the bloody wound to Arthur's pale lips.

And now, here he was, his new fledgeling in his bed, waiting for him to awaken, his partner beside him on the bed, bound and prepared for his new childe to feed and finish the process.

no_innocents

He has come to despise ports like this. Not enough to leave those less able without assistance, but he wishes that the Admiral would take commentary from inmates, because he has been here long enough to have a few pointed comments about his driving. From one person piloting an impossible ship to another-

SIR.

But at the moment, he has cradled in his arms one of the other inmates, one who has only recently arrived. He has avoided most humans, but between allowing her to be savaged by the beasts in this place and saving her he has, for some reason he will contemplate later, chosen the latter option. At least as far as it takes to get her onto the deck of the Barge.

Then he will attempt to put her down.

"You should be safe at this point. Though I would advise you stay on board for the remainder of the port for your own good..."

epistemological

There is a narrowboat in Martin's garden.

It's a rather nice narrowboat. It's certainly clean and well-maintained and a look in the windows shows that it's got a lovely, cozy setup inside. But it is, in fact, in Martin's garden, takes up most of it as a matter of fact. And how or why it ended up in Martin's garden is somewhat answered as the door at the back of the boat opens up and, well...

It's been a few years, not that anyone could tell. He looks about the same, minus the scars strangely enough, and... yes, sporting a small mustache. It might be silly. Maybe Martin's into it. He has no idea, but he'd been convinced into it a while back and so there it sits on his face.

The oddly sheepish way he seems to be making his way to the door, however, belies the rather 'multiversal adventurer' aesthetic rather hard. As does the awkward knock on the door.

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Yarnzipan's Musebox

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Yarnzipan's Musebox

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for Charlie

"Spain" sure has a lot of Cats

return to sender

returning home | for Corvo

Oh no oh no oh no | Breach AU

An AU in Four Acts

a worst timeline | for justine

For David PSL

for lestercraft A Benevolent Morning

for Pagan | In Hawaii

for Trixie | @ Toho Hospital

a summoning goes awry (for lestercraft)

A far shore (for Kota)

John Got a Body AU

Daemon AU Post

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Vampire AU : The Worst / Best Decision He's Ever Made

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