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Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed] Read 8951 times

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #30 on: September 22, 2014, 08:07:54 am »
Four Little Letters, pt. 1

“It’s fuckin pouring outside,” said Juls, rubbing his arms with his hands to warm up. He’d only arrived a while ago, but it didn’t seem like they would get to go out that night. He looked outside the window, taking in the black storm clouds as they got closer and closer to them. The sound of the telly in the background would almost be comforting, if it weren’t talking about the fact that it might hail. How did a storm this big come by unannounced?   

It didn’t really matter at this point. This storm should have ruined Julio’s mood, when in fact it was having quite the opposite effect. It came unexpected, and following its arrival came the familiar feeling that this had happened before. And it had. This weather that evening was a lot like the weather on the night he first met Ange, Maya and the others. It was dark and gloomy, cold and utterly plan-ruining. It was so perfect that Juls found himself smiling outside the window, seemingly going back in time to enjoy that wonderful night once more.

He looked around the apartment for a picture, evidence of that night, and found one of Jasmine, Maya, and him at their very first rave. He was shorter back then, and his blond hair now was a little lighter than it was before. It wasn’t the picture he was looking for, but he appreciated it all the same.

“Ange,” he called with a big grin, going back to the window, “this weather remind you of something?”


Much had changed in a year. Much had improved. Angelus felt more relaxed as he saw Maya starting to return to old loves—acting, in particular. Julio had taken her to the civic theater. The two of them were growing much closer, which Ange approved of quite a bit. He had worried in the beginning that Maya might find Julio too overbearing, but his worries were for naught.

Now they were both over. He and Maya still lived together, though he knew that was soon to end. Maya wanted her own place and she would soon have the funds for it. Andrew still lived here, too, but he had a test for which he had to go to London for. Jasmine took him.

Angelus was just stepping out of the shower when he heard Julio’s commentary on the weather.
‘Guess I showered for nothing.’ Besides hygiene. He messed up his wet hair with the towel before throwing on his pants and walking out into the living room to see the report on the weather which was clearly going to ruin their plans for that evening. He put an arm to the wall and leaned against it. “Damn,” he cursed.

Juls didn’t seem so disappointed though. Maya just looked concerned, and Ange could guess why. Jas and Andrew might be on the road back to Bristol. The reason for Julio’s optimism made itself apparent. Ange smiled,
“Yeah,” he agreed. “Looks like we’ll be staying in anyway. Maya, are there any horror movies you haven’t watched?” He teased.

She looked up, thought about it quite seriously.
“There was one released last year I didn’t get to see. Let The Right One In. Vampire flick.” Angelus groaned. “Not like Anne Rice!”

“Do they sparkle?”


“No. It’s a murderous little vampire girl.”
He smiled. That seemed to get his attention. “Swedish.”

“Juls, wanna stay in and watch horror movies?”
He asked the one at the window.

Juls laughed at Ange’s question about the vampires, sharing the belief that no vampire should ever be able to do that. Those Twilight vampires really were something else. He pushed the thought away with a shudder. What Maya spoke of, however, seemed a lot darker than any recent vampire flick he’d seen. Frankly, most of them had been disappointments. But a film with a little vampire girl going around killing people sounded like his type of movie.

“You know I’m game, mate,” he gave a nod to accept the invitation, the smile from the memories still present on his face. It had been a long time since he’d stayed over at Ange and Maya’s apartment, but he already considered it like a second home. Besides, a scary movie night during a storm sounded like the perfect alternative to going out. “Little vampire infants doing murderous things to innocent people? I can’t say a have a better offer than that.” He joked and moved away from the window.

Juls reached for the cabinet in the kitchen where all the snacks were usually kept. On that night, they were, more or less, empty.

“Guys, we’re out of snacks,” he mumbled, checking out the other cabinets just in case.


“Not quite an infant.”
Maya corrected. Of course, she wasn't quite a girl either, but...spoilers.

“Do you already know how it ends?”
Angelus asked. When she looked up, he groaned. Of course she already knew how it ended. “Why do you want to watch it then?”

“I read up about lots of things first. It’s still good,”
she noted. He shrugged. He didn’t really agree, but he also never got terribly upset with spoilers. Maya had forced spoilers upon him when he started reading A Song of Fire and Ice after all.

Julio got up to check the snack situation, and Angelus looked over when he declared there was nothing. It made sense. Grocery day was tomorrow. Maya still got up from the couch,
“Not even hot chocolate?” Though she didn’t wait for an answer, she just looked into the already open cabinets. “We don’t even have tea….” That was odd, considering the addiction she and Angelus had to tea.

“Yeah, I know. I was going to make an experiment out of it tomorrow morning since we have coffee.”


‘Asshole.’
Her look said it, and Angelus just grinned.

“We could order in,” he suggested.

Maya shook her head at the idea,
“No, let’s go get things. A quick run to the store should be fine. We’re only,” a glance at the television, “er, fifteen minutes until the storm really hits us.” There was a store close by, she and Ange always walked to it, but that would be still be tight.

“All right, I’ll throw on a shirt,”
Angelus walked back towards his room to do just that. “We’ll all go,” he declared, “We can all get what we want,” without the arguing and dictating and forgetting that would happen if just one of them ran out for food. Otherwise, he knew he'd be voted to go get the food because he was already wet. He knew how their logic worked.


“Nope,” mumbled Juls, “no hot chocolate, no tea. There’s coffee though,” Juls was probably one of the few in the group that could drink it. If he recalled correctly, so did Jasmine. “I forget that you both don’t like coffee very much. Y’all are missing out.”

Angelus mentioned that they could order in, but Juls wrinkled his nose in disagreement. That would mean that they would ask other people to drive in this weather, and that was not the best way to approach their lack of snacks.  They could always just go to the store nearby. As if Maya had read his mind, she suggested the very same thing. They might get a little wet, but why the hell not?

“We were just about to force you to go on your own,”
Juls joked with a grin, reaching for his jacket that rested on top of the couch. “He’s unto us,” the blond whispered to Maya. Within a second, Juls slipped on his jacket and made his way to the door. “Ange, time is of the essence, mate!” He further joked, bracing himself just in case Ange was feeling particularly animated that evening.

Once outside, Juls hurried down the path. Already, it was raining. It was terribly stormy yet, but it was definitely getting there.

“Holy shit, I hope Andrew and Jas make it back okay. This is ridiculous.” He’d text them as soon as was possible, maybe suggest that they stay in London for the night.


“We’ll change tactics,” she whispered back to Juls with a grin.

“Stop plotting against me!” Angelus shouted back at them, and Maya burst into laughter. "You both meed me for your world domination plots anyway."

On went Julio’s jacket, and Maya remembered she ought to wear one. She walked back into her room and snatched up her long black coat, exiting her room just as Angelus exited his, yet another band t-shirt on. They nearly bumped into each other, but Ange stepped back and let Maya pass ahead of him. He followed.

He could slow them down if he really wanted to. He liked the rain, the storms.

Once outside, though, he could see clearly why the news had to interrupt whatever show had been on.
“Jeeze,” Juls voiced the worry they all felt. Maya already had her cell phone out and was typing a rapid text. Angelus put a hand on her back as they started walking to ensure she didn’t go wandering out into traffic while she texted. Highly unsafe activity. “Ten minutes in the store, then we gotta get back,” Ange said. “We can all find what we want and check out.”

Maya nodded, barely hearing what he said, but catching the gist of it. She hid her phone away once the message was sent.

The store looked open, lights on and all, but the parking lot was nearly empty.


“Ten minutes, gotcha,” said Juls, leading the way into the store.

Once inside, Juls shook off a bit of the rain before heading directly towards the section that had all the sweets. Something about the storm made him want to snack on something sugary instead of something salty. He picked up a couple of packs of cookies before taking a look around to see what else he might like. After giving it a second thought, he put one pack of cookies and switched it out for a pack of donuts.

“Hot chocolate,” he breathed out. “We need hot chocolate.”  The night would bring with it the cold, and a cup of hot chocolate, or perhaps warm tea, would surely make all of them feel better. On his way to the drinks section, Juls grabbed a bag and put the sweets inside before hanging it over his wrist. He scanned the isles before finally finding the teas and miscellaneous drinks.

“There you are you little bugger,” without hesitation, he threw several packs in the bag.


Ten minutes would be difficult. Maya could be so indecisive when confronted with food options—there was just so much that she liked! Even so, she opted for fruits and walked that way, a skip in her step. The speakers were playing music, and it wasn’t elevator music. Florence and the Machine blared out from the overhead speakers, Strangeness and Charm, and Maya couldn’t help but sing along as she went about her search, snatching up strawberries and cherries, along with a general fruit mix thing. Chocolate dip and strawberry glaze were a necessity. ‘Warm.’ But what did she want that was warm and quick?

Somehow, her steps led her to the aisle with frozen pies, and she decided to grab a blackberry pie. It could be thrown in the oven and eaten during the second horror movie, no doubt.
‘Warm.’ Yes, she still needed to grab hot chocolate and tea. Angelus’s experiment was not happening. 

“Atom to atom oh what’s the matter with me
—Juls!”
Maya laughed at finding him in this aisle already, and stocked with hot chocolate and tea. “I didn’t know you liked those so much,” she said as she reached for some tea herself, of a variety Juls had already gathered. 

“Maya!” Juls mirrored his friend’s enthusiasm with a smile. “Well, when in Rome,” he joked with a chuckle, “I just thought that something warm to drink might be a good idea tonight. I’m willing to bet my shopping budget on the fact that it is going to get really cold, really quick.” He’d been cold in the apartment before they left, and he wasn’t a person that was generally susceptible to the cold. “Better be prepared with something warm, huh?”

Juls gave Maya a playful nudge before taking a look at the things that she was already carrying. There were fruits and all things of the sort, and a pie that would make things just perfect. He expressed his approval by rubbing his stomach with his free hand.

“Have you found the glaze yet?” Glaze would make things even more heavenly. They were running out of time, and the rain was coming down stronger than before. The lights were beginning to flicker, too, even if only very slightly.


A laugh escaped her at the mention of Rome. Oh, how much time he did spend with Andrew—or rather, how much he tried to catch his eye. He just couldn't seem to endear himself enough to Andrew, although Andrew had accepted him. “It is fall now,” closer to winter. Halloween had already passed. “It’s going to be freezing soon.” The storm was strange, weather and timing considered. “You know, assuming this isn’t the apocalypse.”

He approved of the choices, and Maya lifted up the glaze for him to see,
“How could I forget?” She loved it, too. “Now I just have to grab some hot chocolate and I think I’m good. You?” Though she was already taking a couple of steps down the aisle to the hot chocolate.


“Excellent,” Juls was happy to see that the glaze was already in tow, nodding his head in tamed excitement. “I think I’ve got all I need already,” he said as he followed Maya towards the hot chocolate, looking into his bag to double check, just in case. There were cookies, donuts, and teas. Maya had the fruits and the hot chocolates, and Ange had…well, whatever it is that he had picked up. He didn’t see him anywhere near them, so Juls turned.

“Ange is probably waiting for us at the register,” he said to Maya, motioning that they could walk back together.


Juls had everything already, which was good considering the time, and how the lights were flashing. If the computers went out, they could be here a while. Juls walked with her to the hot chocolate and she grabbed several varieties. She needed to stock up for winter anyway. It would save time grocery shopping tomorrow, too.

It would be her last winter living with Ange. She was already plotting moving out in the spring, when the weather would be better.


“Probably right,”
Maya said and exited the aisle, but once they got to the registers, she didn’t see Ange there, nor at the door waiting impatiently. “Must be having issues picking,” she said, more to herself than Juls.

She still walked to a cashier and began to set her things on the conveyor belt, motioned for Juls to do the same. It’d be more efficient if they got this done in one go, and she could spare the cash. Living with Ange saved on rent, if nothing else!


Ange did always find what he wanted. Unbeknownst to them, he had strolled into the book aisle and was having a crisis because a book he wanted had, in fact, been released—but he didn’t get paid until tomorrow. The bane of always finding whatever he wanted. 




Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #31 on: September 22, 2014, 08:08:38 am »
Four Little Letters, pt. 2

Juls, perhaps out of paranoia, grew concerned when he didn’t see Ange at the register or at the door. A frown was barely noticeable upon his squared face. Just where had he gone off to? He couldn’t help these brief, however constant, moments of worry. He had chosen to accept Ange, and Maya for that matter, and that carried quite a bit a weight with him. It meant often worrying when there was no need, and gifts. Juls liked giving gifts.

“Should we go look for him?” Maya was already placing her things on the conveyer belt, and when she motioned for him to do the same, he didn’t argue. He’d find a way to slip in cash into her purse or something, later. “Your brother,” Juls breathed out, surrendering his concern with a smile of admiration. “He’s…something else. Giving us a time constraint when he’s the one that is going to take his sweet ass time.”

A laugh. 

Since Maya paid, Juls would make sure to carry everything once it had been neatly placed in a bag. He indicated plastic, since the rain would kill a paper bag. That would not end well.


Maya laughed a bit at the assessment,
“He’ll make the time,” Maya assured. Perhaps they were a little early. She hadn’t checked the time. She offered the cashier her card just as soon as it was asked for, and Julio went to fetch the bags—all of them. There wasn’t one left for Maya when the card was returned to her and she put it back into its slot.

In fact, it had been he that answered the query about the type of bags. She would have said plastic anyway, as she found those more useful in the long run. She motioned for them to step away from the register and closer to the door, and indicated that he ought to set the bags down, in case Angelus kept them waiting.

The smile remained upon her lips as the storm raged outside. How like the first meeting this was, except she was out getting snacks this time.
“I should have gotten poi ingredients,” she realized belatedly, shook her head and shrugged. Oh well. Pie would be just as good. “Thank you for carrying the bags,” there was no need to talk him into it. She would have talked Ange into it first, of course. Brothers.

Only her mind linked Juls to that in that moment, as if this were his rightful place, as if all of this were right and as it should be. Her mind was flooded with happy thoughts, and the words came out during this reflection before she realized what they were,
“I love you, you know,” spoken as casually, and as sincerely, as if she’d told him it was raining.

There would be a beat, and then she would realize the error.



They moved together from the register and towards the door, where they would wait for Ange to emerge from wherever he was hiding. As it could still be a while, and as how Maya suggested, Juls placed the bags on the floor while they waited. The sound of the rain crashing against the walls of the store brought him back again to the past. “Maybe we can make it next time, when Jas and Andrew are around. I remember we had poi that night, you know,” it was as if Juls knew that he and Maya were both talking about the night they met, “and you’re welcome.”

The sound of the rain persisted, and it made Juls incredibly nostalgic. It was good to go back on previous wonderful memories, but he was so blissfully happy where he was right now. There was nothing wrong with his life, and there were no real worries that haunted him. The dark days were over, and Juls didn’t want this to change. He was so scared to be so happy, for any change that would come could easily be for the worse.

When he heard Maya’s words, however, he could feel his eyes gloss, and all the fear left him. He didn’t cry, but he felt a surge of warmth tickle his very skin. She’d never told him that before, and it meant so much to Juls. He couldn’t do the feeling justice with words.

Instead, Juls just tilted his head to the side and rested it on Maya’s – both looking the same direction.

“I love you, too.”


All of the fear Juls had felt must have become Maya’s, and intensified by thousands, for in that moment Maya felt all warmth leave her.

She had acknowledged that Juls was dear to her, but she had intended to keep that knowledge close and never say it. She had seen what revealing her feelings could do. Love could be manipulated. It could force people to do terrible, crazy things, and Maya was no exception to that rule. She’d rather do it of her own will, than because one she loved demanded it, though.

There could be no taking the words back. That would hurt, too much, and too deeply. It would be a lie she couldn’t tell. Her mind panicked and she strove to think of some way to clarify, to qualify, to make it ‘less’ without making it less at the same time.

It could have only been a couple of seconds before Juls returned the words, before his head came to rest on hers in a gesture of solidarity. She wanted to scream and rip her hair out, to demand he take those words back and not lie to her, and yet despite that, she felt the warmth returning with each beat of her heart.
‘Maybe this time….’ Maybe this time she wouldn’t come to regret saying these words. No, this was not the love she'd felt for Aeron, but it was love all the same, like that she knew for Angelus, and she knew how frightening that was.

Love was demanding.
“Ok,” to herself, and to Juls. Ok. Just this once, it would be ok for it to be known. She tried to breathe, and she shut her eyes against her own tears, fears and happiness coming up as one powerful emotion that she knew was love, so primal and so demanding a thing.

And then just as quickly as she accepted it, her hand clenched into a fist and she whirled away from Juls,
“I’ll be outside!” Because that was enough with revelations today, and rain was good for wiping emotion away. Besides, the storm was calling her name, the cacophony the same as the noise in her head right then.

As she ran out the automatic doors, Angelus finally caught up. He had no snacks. He had one book.


Maya had said the words, and she couldn’t take them back. Juls was aware that they had, in a way, slipped, but that did not make them any less true. He knew how hard this must have been for her, and he would not hold it against her if she said she was kidding. He knew, of course, that she hadn’t. He hadn’t been joking either, but he had shown his love for Maya many times before. To him, acknowledging this was not anything new. Juls had told himself that he wouldn’t say it, though, until she did.

That stormy night had been the night.

Juls knew that something had to be up, and so when Maya pushed away from him, he did not immediately follow. The boy now had something he treasured, and he would not be gloating about it. He would not advertise it. No, he’d let the truth remain with Maya and himself.

It took a moment to click that Maya had not just stepped away from him, but had actually gone outside.

“What, are you crazy? It’s pouring!” But she was gone.

When Angelus emerged with a book in his hand, Juls smiled. “Nice snacks,” he joked. “Come on, mate, before Maya gets soaked to the bone.”

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #32 on: September 25, 2014, 05:15:28 am »
Obstacle Removal

“Remind me,” Setsuna said as he folded the piece of paper up and placed it in the upper pocket of his jacket, “Not to get on your bad side.”

Aeron chuckled and shook his head,
“I told you before, this is not a matter of revenge. I do not know why you think that way considering the gift this life is,” Aeron clicked his pen and set it back down on the mahogany desk.

Setsuna picked it right back up and twirled it between his fingers,
“I will need this,” he pocketed it shortly after in the same place where he’d put the paper. “Well, should I stay?”

Aeron sighed, “Yes, but you will need to be quick. If Arthur were to kill you, that would end the plan,” he said. With that, Setsuna left his side and went to fiddle with things on his laptop, arranging things between the various individuals in UNIT for the clean-up that was to occur.

In an hour, there was a knock on the door, and Aeron answered it.

Arthur Whitehall, his sire, stood on the doorstep.
“May I come in?” He always had to ask. Those were the rules of their condition, strange though they were.

“You may come in,”
Aeron answered and stepped aside to give Arthur plenty of room. “How was your trip to Italy?” Aeron shut the door behind Arthur and casually slipped the lock in place before following Arthur.

Arthur knew his way around the home. He inclined his head to Setsuna as they entered the lounge, answered,
“Not well. The others remain unwilling to help in our endeavor.”

‘Useless.’ It was not thought of the Italian group, but of Arthur. He was losing a grip of the situation the closer they got to achieving anything. He could not inspire fear nor loyalty in others any longer.

The man let himself fall onto a fainting couch, and Aeron took a seat on his recliner,
“They’re old and stuck in their ways, though.”

Aeron let no judgment pass his face, but it was in his tone,
“So you say,” he would allow one last chance, “Setsuna has managed to enthrall Mr. Parker, and I believe that we can—”

“No.” He didn’t let Aeron finish. There was no need. “I’ve told you time and time again,” his tone was severe, “not to meddle with the higher levels of UNIT.” Paper was removed from Setsuna’s pocket, as was the pen. “We are not prepared to deal with them if we are unmasked. We haven’t the funds, nor the numbers.”

Aeron’s couldn’t help but let the disappointment show,
“I’m sorry you think that way,” he observed as Setsuna began to sign his name to the document, establishing the house as his. He pushed his laptop off and rose.

“Aeron,” he said, folding the paper quickly, “You may come in.” He tucked paper and pen back in his pocket.

Arthur looked back, confused. The confusion did not last, for seconds after the switch occurred, he began to feel sick. The pores of his skin widened as the blood began to push its way up and out, first from the ears and eyes, and then just from the flesh—from the chest, the shoulders, the fingers—the blood moved to escape.

Arthur lunged for Setsuna, but the man was already prepared to run, and run he did. Aeron intercepted Arthur, grabbing him around the waist and slamming him back down on the couch. He placed both hands down on his sire to keep him from rising, though the other struggled.
“Sh, sh,” Aeron cooed, “This is necessary,” Arthur settled, only enough to hear Aeron through the blood rushing out of his ears. He was hoping to hear a way to win his life back. “You’ve become useless, Arthur, but more than that—an obstacle. You will not stand aside and let your betters do what is necessary.”

Arthur gave one push up, and nearly succeeded in freeing himself. Unfortunately, Aeron was not off-balanced. He pushed right back down and Arthur remained down. Aeron had always been the stronger of the two. 

Aeron’s hand was coated in his sire’s blood. The couch beneath his sire was ruined.
“You understand,” Of course Arthur did. He had killed plenty of useless things. He had planned to kill Aeron once the Harper funds were secured and the man's use wore off...but oddly enough, Aeron never did lose his use. “Useless things must be dealt with, so close your eyes and just let yourself go.”

Arthur did not do as asked. He struggled to his last moment, which didn't take long to reach.

Within a minute, he was dead.
“It’s safe now, Setsuna,” Aeron called, and the Japanese man returned, walking down the stairs.

“And, you don’t want this home back?”


Aeron shook his head,
“No,” he answered, “I have a better one. I was going to sell it anyway.”

"That mystical home Arthur always talked about?"
Setsuna joked.

Aeron shook his head,
"That his only goal was to go there," Aeron clicked his tongue, "It is no wonder he got no where with such low ambitions."

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #33 on: September 25, 2014, 08:50:30 am »
First Day

The walls felt distant and over-tall, colder and whiter than the last time he’d seen them. The lockers placed on their faces were a bright red color, adorned and styled to their owner’s desires. The lights above shone brilliantly on the waxy floor, and Donovan could almost see his silhouette in the empty hallway as he hurriedly walked in. The boy carried a backpack over his left shoulder, while a bright red gym back fell from his right.

Nothing about his demeanor, perhaps except his pace, showed what a truly mad morning he had experienced.

Naturally, he was late. It had something to do with his parents and his schedule, Donovan knew that, but he hadn’t cared to really listen to what he was supposed to do in his very first day of high school. They lectured him and argued about what he should focus on, and (as sometimes was the case) the conversation then turned hostile with his parents. Donovan really wished that they could somehow hear how ridiculous they sounded. 

The boy, however late he might have been, walked with purpose, having a campus map in his hand. He’d been to the orientation for the Academy before, so he only glanced at the sheet occasionally, and just to make sure he hadn’t somehow made a wrong turn.

He knocked once when he reached the designated door in the Mathematics wing before giving himself the liberty to enter. The professor, a man as crisp as corners, turned his way with a dry-erase pen still lingering on the whiteboard, gray-haired and severe.

“May I help you, Mr. …?”


“Bukater,” answered Donovan, unaffected by the man’s glaring look, as he handed the man a copy of his schedule and forms. He did that a lot, didn’t he?

The man did not even bother to look at the schedule before he turned back to Donovan. “Yes,” he said, “you’re here for the football team.”

Technically that was only half true. Donny’s name had not been unheard of amongst the staff, and football was not at all the only topic of conversation. He’d gotten a full scholarship, and there hadn’t been an alum with such promise in a very long time.

“Yes, sir.”


“And you’re enrolled in Pre-Calculus your first year?”

“I exempted out of my prerequisites, sir.” The test, despite its reputation, had not been that hard.

The man’s hard face did not change, but still Donovan could have sworn that he saw the man smile, even if it had just been for a fraction of a second. After taking a quick glance look at Donovan’s schedule, the Professor placed the paper on his desk, and motioned with his hand for Donovan to take a seat. There was chatter amongst the students, but such a thing was not unheard of in the first day of class – especially when there was a deliciously late arrival.

“Welcome,” said the Professor just as Donovan took his seat, the sound of his dry-erase marking already resuming the lecture at hand.

The lecture had been just as Donovan had anticipated – fast-paced and incredibly challenging for a first day. Donovan’s dexterous hands caught most of what he needed to review on paper, and what else might have escaped his writing had already been recorded in his mind. This class was for those who cared about the lecture, since not a word was spoken while the professor taught. All of the students inside knew what to do.

If it weren’t for Donovan’s ability to overcome such impressions, he might have been slightly intimidated.

“You’ve got quick hands,”
said the girl adjacent to Donovan – Laura, chocolate-skinned and beautiful. Her hair was in an afro, and her features were lean and delicate. She looked at him with a smile, friendly and warm. “What’s your name?”

Donovan returned the smile with one of his own. “Donovan,” he stretched out his hand in greeting.

She took his hand with a firm shake, “Laura Cowley. Nice to meet you, Donovan.”

It had been an absolute pleasure on both sides. Laura was a sophomore at the Academy, and not a single boy had made her take a second glance in years. Not for friendship or otherwise. Something about Donovan, however, had piqued her interest. Donovan was traditionally handsome, broad-shouldered, tall, and athletic, but that had not been the reason. It was a plus, of course, but not the entirety. She wasn’t even sure she liked him yet.

The bell rang.

“Show me your schedule, Donovan,” said Laura with a chuckle, “I’ll walk you to your next class.”

Donovan did not complain.

By the end of the day, the two would have decided their interest in the other. A romance would be born within the week.

 

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #34 on: October 08, 2014, 07:49:52 am »
No Steps Back

“It’s your fault I’m living there.”

Angelus had to keep himself distracted as he walked towards a café he planned to stay at all day. The black kitten he had met when he first met Dixon was following him now, seeming to think it would get more food from him. Angelus had gotten in a bad habit of feeding the thing.
“If you hadn’t been eating that octopus, I wouldn’t have wanted sushi, and I wouldn’t be living there,” he thumbed back towards the large building. “I hate it,” he didn’t hate it. “It’s too…posh.” He was paranoid constantly about the organization and cleanliness, particularly since Maya wasn’t there.

God forbid if he damage anything of hers.

The cat mewed in sympathy. He paused, turned around and knelt. He offered his hand out to the cat, and it immediately walked forward and bumped its head up against his hand.
“Juls and Maya wouldn’t let me have a cat,” he told it, “Cat hair is like glitter.” Only Juls tolerated glitter. “But, we can be friends.”

It bumped its head against his hand again, and Angelus scratched it behind its ears.
“Good. You’re going to have to start chipping in for meals then, too,” he made a motion, “You can start by learning tricks.” It looked confused. He motioned again, “Parrot cat.” It looked more confused. He reached for it, propped the cat on his leather-jacket clad shoulder, and stood.

It mewed in immediate protest. He kept his hand on it,
“We’re cool, we’re cool,” he told it, “You’re not going to fall. You have claws, and this jacket is leather. You can hang on.” He couldn’t feel the claws flexing at all. He walked a little bit with the cat on his shoulder. “See?” He needed a snack. Train the cat with bribery. Yes. He would have a parrot cat.

He walked right into a café he didn’t plan to stay at, and the people mostly smiled at the cat on his shoulder rather than immediately kick him out. He spoke quickly when he got to the counter, which was wonderfully clear,
“Hey, I just need to buy some turkey,” he saw they had turkey meat. “Could I?”

“Uh…I’m not sure how to ring that up…hold on.”
The man left the counter, and after some discussion, extra turkey was just given to Angelus in a white bag. He left with it. Once outside, he offered the cat up some turkey. It ate immediately.

He then lifted his hand and held the turkey aloft the opposite shoulder. The kitten observed it.
“Come on,” Angelus teased.

After a moment, the cat climbed on his head, clawing his ear open and dropping onto the other shoulder to eat
. “Ow…gonna…work on that one.” He didn’t try that again, but walked on, periodically offering food up to the cat to keep it from jumping or moving too much.

Eventually though, he made it to the place he was supposed to be. He set the cat down.
“I’ll be out later, so you go run along. Go bother Dixon or something.” Ah, Dixon. The rebel who wouldn’t join Torchwood. Well, it made him useful.

Inside the café Angelus went, he got himself tea, and he found a table. He took out his laptop, and for a few hours he browsed the internet and read various articles to keep his mind off what he wasn’t sure he wanted to happen.

He was here to deal with the Julian issue.

Julian Strong. Divorced. One child. Both parents alive. Angelus had done his research, but he was a coward. He couldn’t go to the funeral himself, but he left a message. He made sure the expenses of the funeral were completely covered, and he offered the family closure if they wanted it. A public place.

He was terrified. His hand itched for the phone to call Maya, but she had already given him all that she could. From this point on, it was all him. 

The bells above the door rang several times, but Angelus only looked up once. His green eyes met those of a woman in black, and a teenage boy. The woman was elderly, blonde hair graying. The boy was much younger, perhaps fourteen.

There was no need for words of confirmation. The woman spoke to the boy, and he walked to the counter before she took a seat with Angelus. He closed his laptop, and set it down beneath his chair.
“So you are Angelus.” It was not a question. “I am Megan Strong.” He gave a nod to confirm he understood all that meant. This was Julian’s mother. “He is Andrew Strong.” Another day, Angelus might have smiled that the boy had the name of one of his friends.

Today was not that day. It just made it all the more real for Angelus. He imagined he had killed Andrew's father.
“We received your message at the funeral. We were told you covered the expenses of the funeral.” Angelus nodded. “Why?”

Angelus glanced towards the boy, who was waiting some ways away for the drinks he had been sent to fetch. He looked back to the mother, and her piercing gaze. He knew it was often a sign of lying to look away, and so he held it.
“I did not mean to kill Julian.”

“I know that,”
she answered. “We were told what happened. We understand he pulled a gun on you and your friend.” There was accusation there. Angelus felt himself bristle, but he pushed it down. He could not get defensive. He could not. “But why would he do that? Why aren’t you facing any trials?”

“…police of…some sort outside the law,” Angelus answered her, quite honestly. “That’s why I won’t see any…punishment for this. I don’t feel good about it,” he told her. “I don’t know why your son acted that way. He seemed…he seemed possessed.” Nothing had been found to give him or Jack any leads. Angelus was working on guesswork. “Julio and I were just there to look at an apartment, I swear. Then your son started acting strange, he pulled the gun, and I…I reacted, and I am sorry.” He said, “I can’t bring him back. I can’t take the action back. I can’t give you the satisfaction of being behind bars for taking your son from you, for taking his father.” He said, “I can try to answer your questions and give you closure. If you want money, I can give you that, to make up for the income he brought in—whatever you need.”

“You are trying to alleviate your own guilt.”


Well, there was no denying that. There he did look down, at last unable to keep her gaze. He gave a nod.
“There is no action you can take that will get you my forgiveness. Were this not a public place....”

He swallowed,
“No,” he said, “I don’t expect that.”

“Why did he point that gun at you and your friend? Tell me those last moments.”


Angelus took in a breath. The son joined then, and he set a cup in front of the woman. He took a seat at her side. The woman didn’t reach for the cup. He related the tale of how Julian had been looking for Dixon to find someone called the Doctor, someone that Angelus didn’t know. He confessed he lied about it to try and help Dixon, because he had heard of this ‘Doctor’. He told her everything he could about the scene.

When he was finished, she reached for her cup,
“Near the end,” she said, perhaps more to herself, “He was asking me about this Doctor, as well,” Angelus looked back up to meet her gaze. “He seemed to be having a mental breakdown.” He could see tears in her eyes.

The grandson looked away. There was a mumbled sentence, Angelus caught the name ‘Doctor’ in it, as well. The grandmother nodded.
“I know. I’m sorry,” she said to him. “He was not right at the end,” she touched his shoulder, “He did not deserve to die.”

“No!” Angelus said. “No,” he said quieter, with less intensity, “He did not. He needed help.”

“You said you were of the police force…special?”
Angelus nodded. “You’ve never killed before, have you?” He shook his head. It felt like a lie, but to his memory, he had never killed anyone. “Hm.” It sounded judgmental. He wasn’t sure quite what she was judging, but it did not sound good.

The grandson asked,
“So you get away with mistakes?”

“Yeah,” he answered him. “Yeah, I do. I’m sorry. I’m really sorry. I wanted him to live. He didn't...he wasn't in his right mind....”

“You shouldn’t have slammed his head into a wall,”
the woman snapped.

“I know.” He had reacted in the moment, and that had been bad. “I won’t…it will mean nothing to you, but I won’t let it happen again.”

“Oh no, it means the world if you hold to it. I wouldn’t want you killing my grandson next when he’s going through an emotional breakdown.”
Angelus managed not to wince. “If you want to do something good, put your money towards research into therapy, into emotional well-being, into mental health, and put it into educating others like you, so they know how to deal with people having breakdowns without killing them, so they can recognize it!” Her voice raised with each word, becoming shriller, “If you really care, do that.”

A beat, as she tried to recompose herself because people were looking.


“I will.”
Angelus said. “Every year. For as long as I live and after.” He would never forget Julian. No, this wouldn’t alleviate the guilt, but it would help others. It would bring good from the tragedy.

There was a pause following his words, a re-evaluation as the woman observed the man she thought more of a punk. His words seemed sincere, and in that moment, she realized his guilt was, too. This was no formality he was forced to do, no public service. He was seeking, what exactly she did not know, but he was seeking when he knew he would not find forgiveness.

What mother could forgive their child’s murderer?

What son could forgive their father’s murderer?

Calmly then, she rose, and with no words of farewell she left Angelus. When they had left, Angelus dug out his laptop and immediately began to research such places that he could donate to, to help the cause. A couple more hours passed before he left the café. The cat began to shadow his steps almost immediately.

It meowed at him.
“No sushi today,” he sighed, “I spent all my money,” he brushed his fingers back through his hair. Internet made donating that much easier, but he was plotting to visit a few of these places, too. He could dedicate some time, some energy, some effort.

He could do something when Jack wasn’t demanding him, and when Juls had other plans as he no doubt would now that they were in London. There was a lot to explore, and he had a new lover, as well.

The cat sped its pace to brush against his leg, and Angelus smiled.
“Thanks,” he told it.

Bleu

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #35 on: October 19, 2014, 06:10:17 am »
Beyond the doubt, desperation, and deprivation, there was wine. A vintage Dom Pérignon Brut, and a real object of beauty. It presented itself first as a friend – comforting and inviting, beautifully chilled and resting before an empty crystal glass – and then as the subject of temptation, a means to blurring memories and hedging heartbreak. A pearly pale hand quivered at the thought of taking it, but instead it settled back to where it’d been, gently lying atop the fine fabric of a beige gown under the table.

Click.

The beautiful melody of the piano made the woman’s visage emerge from hiding, revealing high cheekbones and black hair that was pulled back into an elegant do. A silver necklace with a small diamond stone hung from her long neck, distracting any and all attention from her unmoving nude lips and aloof expression. If it wasn’t the necklace, it was her earrings that did the trick.

A brilliant chandelier hung from the tall ceiling, and the golden lights shimmered all around them. The sound of chatter was soft, but ever present.

Then a voice, “Excuse me,” the wait staff had been so careful when talking to her that night, and this boy had been no different. His voice was barely audible, but just loud enough for the woman to recognize his presence – above all, his eyes were wary. “Is there anything I can get  for you, ma’am? Perhaps your wine?” She knew that his words showed concern, even if none of it were directly related to her. The boy would have to ask for the table, but he couldn’t, she’d ordered the wine after all.

She hadn’t even opened it, though. She hadn’t done anything really, and time was being unkind to her. What was she expecting? The boy, so young and naïve, could not expect anything but words from her. She gave him a smile, something different from the last several times the staff had come to see to her needs.

“Yes,” she spoke, gently tucking a loose strand of hair behind her ears, “I’d very much like some wine now, please.” She felt tempted to leap from her chair, to go back home and leave the wine unattended. It was just as tempting as the wine. “Thank you,” she said as the waiter poured the wine on her glass. Her hand reached for it, her fingers closing gently on it and pulling it closer. The smell was intoxicating, pleasing.

“Anything else for you, ma’am?”

She took a sip from her wine glass before answering the kind boy.

“Will you party be arriving soon?”

The woman’s smile grew wider as the question sunk in. “No,” she said, “I’m dining alone tonight.” She’d told the other wait staff precisely that before, since they’d seen the whole bottle of wine just sitting there. She shook her head. “You were doing so well,” she told the suddenly blushing waiter, but her tone was kind, genuinely praising despite the deeper meaning. “I’m fine, thank you.”

“My apologies,” the waiter inclined his head, the woman mirrored, and he walked away.

The woman in beige’s eyes followed the waiter as he walked to another table, her fingers teasing the wineglass as she did. He soon inclined his head to inquire after other guests, a couple who sat by one of the tall windows of the restaurant. It’d been a couple that she’d seen since they arrived, and she’d been immediately captivated. They were young and completely in love, in a way still blind for the difficulties that often followed courtship.

The girl had beautiful dark skin, her lips were pillowy and teasing, and her hair was black and wildly curly. She wore a light color that contrasted beautifully against her skin, and the woman couldn’t quite see the exact color under the tricky lights of the evening. She could see, however, that the girl’s hands were cupped by the boy’s, and that she had a smile she could not ever hope to hide. It wasn’t in her beautiful dress, or her fine and delicate face, that the woman found interest, but in her expression. She remembered it.

The boy had lighter skin than the girl, peachy and pale, and he was tall with short brown hair and a handsome face. He wore a suit, but it didn’t fit him as it did the other men. He was young, quite possibly younger than the woman whose hands he held, but it was more than just that. The woman knew not what it was exactly, but she took comfort in knowing that he looked at the girl just as the girl did him.

“Can I get you both anything?” She’d heard the waiter ask, finding it funny how much more relaxed he was with them. Did she really put people off, these days? She’d been told enough times, she just didn’t want to believe it. She’d never been unkind. She hated the idea, and yet…

The boy looked to the girl, who chuckled before nodding her head. Whatever it was that they wanted, it had clearly been topic of conversation already. Her laugh was almost contagious, so much that the woman was tempted to look away to hide her smile.

“We’ll have your house desert, please,” said the boy, whose voice was lower than what the woman had anticipated. Was he actually as young as she thought? Now she wasn’t so sure.

“Of course,” said the waiter, before inclining his head, turning, and moving on about the restaurant. He’d come back towards her, and the woman pretended to be entirely engrossed in her wine. She averted his gaze, and was pleased that he didn’t stop to ask her anything.

“Thank you,” she heard the girl say to the boy, “though I feel bad you brought me somewhere so expensive. I would have been fine with…somewhere else.”

The boy would not have it, and it was endearing.

“Don’t worry about that,” he responded with a charming smile, “I’m just happy that you said yes. I’d been meaning to ask you for a while.”

She chuckled softly at this, seemingly squeezing his hand.

“We’ve only just met, Donovan. I don’t think that counts as a while. What’s it been – a couple of weeks?”

“It doesn’t feel that way,” this time it was he who chuckled.

“It really doesn’t,”
she agreed. “It doesn’t feel like it at all. It’s a little mad, isn’t it?”

“Mad is good,” spoke Donovan, using his hand to gently try to pull hers towards him. “Mad is perfect.” He leaned in, his eyes smoldering, and the girl followed in his lead. Time seemed to slow as their lips neared each other, and even the woman could admit that there could not have been a more perfect time for the boy’s intentions.

Just as their lips were close to meeting, the woman turned away, looking down on her empty glass of wine. She’d never meant to eavesdrop, but partaking on such a special moment would be intruding on a moment too intimate for the young couple. She still smiled, however, filling up her glass once more with the opened bottle of wine. She took another sip and poured more before risking a peek to the intriguing couple several tables to her left.

Their lips were still together – a kiss that was tender, slow, and perfect – so she looked away once more. She’d caught a glance of the boy’s hand, and how it caressed the girl’s cheek.  The woman’s pale cheeks turned  a rosy color, but she blamed the wine. It was making her feel overly sentimental, and the sight of the perfect couple wasn’t helping.

It wasn’t until she heard the boy speak that she decided to risk a second look.

“You’re perfect,” he’d told her in a whisper. The woman realized that she hadn’t heard it, but read it on the boy’s lips. She was certain that is what he’d said. The girl smiled, and gave the boy a second, but quick, little kiss.

The woman couldn’t spy on them any longer. It felt worse and worse as time progressed. She turned away and silently kept to herself. For the rest of the evening, the woman paid attention only to her companion for the night. She couldn’t help but notice, however, when the desert was brought to their table – when it came a time for them to leave.

In a second, she saw it – what was so strange about the boy in the suit, what she’d been wondering this whole time. After she’d checked on them, she saw him looking to his wrist, to his watch, and his whole expression changed. His eyes were no longer lit up; they were uneasy and completely hollow, as if he’d suddenly snapped back to reality, as if the evening had been nothing but a fantastical fiction. Suddenly, he’d aged – he wasn’t a kid anymore.

And then, it was over just as quickly as it had started. Had she seen correctly? The boy seemed like he was back to normal, in the blink of an eye! Before she could process more, before she could truly understand, he’d helped the girl out of her seat, wrapped his arm around her waist, and led her out of the restaurant. There was that smile again, one that the girl returned. If something had happened, clearly she hadn’t noticed.

“Ma’am?”

It was only then that the woman realized the waiter was speaking to her.

“I’m sorry?”

“Did you need anything else?”

A quick peek and they were gone.

“No,” she said, shaking her head, remembering just then to smile. “I’m fine, thank you.”

The waiter lingered for a little while, but eventually he walked on off.

The woman in beige leaned back on her chair, cradled her wine glass, and took another sip. By the end of the night, she would have finished her bottle.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #36 on: October 19, 2014, 07:47:22 am »
The Zombie Apocalypse

“I can’t believe I’m wearing this.”

“I paid for this event,”
Maya said, looking over her own attire, mostly the vest which bothered her. It obscured the pretty red dress she wore for her costume as Ada Wong. “That took all the money I won for the dance competition, too. That's why you're wearing it.”

“I’m surprised,”
Jasmine said, and when Maya looked up, she explained, “That you were allowed to use it,” she had seen the tight grip Aeron had over Maya’s funds, “I thought much of the money you made was going into that house.”

“It is,”
she agreed, “We’re adding on to it, making a room with better acoustics so I don’t need to practice elsewhere.” Taking away her last reason, really. “Ugh. Where is Andrew?” He was late.

“He’ll be here,”
Angelus said, and he brushed a hand over his shoulder. “I do like the jacket,” he seemed to be speaking more to himself there. He had been persuaded to buy it, told he could wear it outside of the costume, especially since it wasn’t exact. The main difference was the color, but Maya thought it looked better. Black leather, white fur, but the same design as Leon’s of RE4.

They were all dressed as Resident Evil 4 characters. Jasmine stood as Ingrid Hannigan in a skirted suit, charcoal. Andrew was going to show up as their Krauser.

Soon enough, his red beret could be picked out in the night—borrowed from Jasmine. Angelus started laughing almost immediately, because the character of Krauser just didn’t fit Andrew, at all. At least Maya could pull off Ada, and Jasmine, Ingrid. Andrew as Krauser?

No, not even if he could look it (which to Angelus, he couldn’t).
“Long time no see, old friend,” he joked.

“Shut up, Angel.”
Andrew said, and Jasmine snickered as Angelus’s humor denied.

“Boys,” she said, “We’re on the same team, remember?”

“For the moment,”
Angelus grumbled, “For all I know, she has it planned to divide us later.” He motioned to Maya, who just grinned at the accusation.

“Nonsense. It’s going to be difficult enough on our own, and there’s no restarts. No save points.”
She took the laser handgun she’d been given, and touched the bottom of it, “And friendly fire is on, so try not to shoot each other.”

“What is the basis of this, again?” Andrew asked. He knew it stemmed from their shared love of zombie video games, and Angelus constantly talking about he wanted to do something with zombies in paintball, but didn’t know how to organize it.

“Basically,” Maya’s hands moved behind her back, “Ange found a laser tag group who specializes in the idea of a zombie thing, but it isn’t quest oriented. Just, move through and survive. So, I called them up, found a warehouse, and put down the money for them to organize a special event in the last week of October which is quest-oriented.” So they were, no doubt, making a profit. Maya didn’t ask for any of the gains. Just “free” passage to the game with her team.

“I’m not a strategy guide,”
she clarified, “but I know the quest involves moving about and using keycards, managing ammunition, levers and those sorts of things, zombies, a boss, and such. We’re looking for a vaccine within the warehouse.” Looks were exchanged, “Ammunition and health things are done with cards, too. Our guns will have scanners on them so if we pick up ammo, we just scan it.” She lifted her gun and showed them the bottom, so that they could see it, “Our vests have a scanner for health, here,” she pointed dead center, where the light would turn on once the game began. “A lot of stuff is done through scanners and cards. We get scored on completion and zombies killed.”

“All right, all right,” Angelus was eager, “Is there anything else we need to know?”

A devilish smile came to her lips.
“We’re competing against Color Me Happy,” their friendly rivals in paintball, who Maya thought had a far more creative team name than they did. “Only one team can get the vaccine.”

Angelus matched her smile. He tilted his head back, and he cackled with glee. His night was made.
“All right then,” he said after a moment, leader mode kicking in. “Is Full Spectrum prepared to kick some ass and get some vaccines?”

“Yeah!”
“Hell yes.”

“Let’s get on with it already!”


Angelus laughed at Jasmine’s response, nodded, and started towards the warehouse with his team in tow. When they stepped into the lobby, the other team was already there, and they, too, were in costumes.

Maya laughed and Angelus groaned.
“How do you do this?” He’d never figured it out, how Maya got people to humor her.

“Leon,” Mitchel smirked at Angelus, offered his hand. Angelus took it by the elbow, and Mitchel caught Angelus’s arm to. They pulled each other into an embrace. “I was waiting for you.” Mitchel was the self-described leader of his team, too. As such, he was decked out as Chris.

There was also a Claire, a Wesker, and a Jill.
“Yeah, yeah,” Angelus pulled away, “Good to see you, though. This’ll make this exciting.”

Mitchel nodded in agreement, shot Maya a smile,
“Thank you for figuring this out.”

“You’re welcome,” she returned the smile, “I figured we’d have some fun. So, let’s get everyone equipped!”

They all walked to the desk, where ammunition was given, along with guns. Everyone got a handgun, but they were all allowed one extra. Angelus, of course, picked the shotgun. Jasmine took up the sub-machine gun. Maya went with the magnum, and Andrew snatched up the sniper rifle. The guns were registered with them, and Maya noted that if necessary, they could swap weapons—the kills made with the shotgun would just count for Angelus, but in life-or-death, kill counts didn’t matter.


“Always the magnum with you,”
Angelus noted with exasperation. “You won’t even use it.”

“Shut it,” was her only response.

Equipped, they were given the run down by one of the workers, who then pointed out two doors of entry. Angelus was given first choice, and Mitchel took the other. The goal was simple: get the vaccine, and get back here. First team to return with the vaccine won.
“Just don’t let the girl in heels win,” was what Maya heard as the doors opened, and she laughed at Mitchel’s comment.

“Keep Maya alive. I want to rub that in his face,”
Angelus whispered, and Jasmine gave an affirmative nod.

“You’re all jerks,”
Maya pointed out.

Angelus shrugged his shoulders. They walked on, Jasmine walking backwards. Maya kept a hand on her shoulder to help kind, watching the left side as Andrew watched the right, and Angelus walked right on. This first room was more of a hall than anything. Experience with horror games and horror movies paid off for them all, for they foresaw where the zombies would come from, when they did.

There were just enough tells.

The first bit of anxiety truly came when they entered an open room, with a fan spinning at the top, casting shadows and making extra noise. There were a few boxes piled up near walls, likely where zombies would come from. There were two doors. One required two people to spin wheels on either side of it.


“As soon as we touch those wheels, they’re going to come out en masse,”
Angelus concluded.

“There might be something we need in the door over there,”
Maya motioned with her head towards the, more or less, easy path.

Angelus shifted the shotgun over his shoulder.
“Probably ammo, at a high cost.” But a decision had to be made. The wheel-door could also be a trick, looking more difficult to suggest it was the right way. He stamped his foot on the ground, “Maya, check that way, and just do a run. Come back and report. We’ll cover you if things start acting up here.”

It was always her. In paintball, she was always the one to fetch the flag, or else it was Andrew. Maya glared at him, but walked towards the other door and, for dramatics, kicked it open and then darted in.

The sound of it being opened did ‘awaken’ the zombies in the air. Immediately, Jasmine, Andrew, and Angelus began to unload on them as Maya darted down the hall with two doors on either side, and one straight ahead. A glance into the windows revealed there was equipment in the rooms.

The other door was opened before she could reach it, and in walked ‘Claire’ of the other team, known to Maya as Eva.

Maya’s reaction was quick, and sudden. She drew the magnum from its holster and fired at Eva while slamming her body against the door to the right. It opened against her weight and she all but fell into it.

Maya’s shot connected and Eva was quite startled as she watched her light go from green to red, suggesting she was low on health. Magnums, of course, did the most damage, but at the cost of low ammunition throughout the game.
“Bitch!” Eva ran forward to retaliate. She had the rifle, so she kept to her handgun. She pushed into the room, but as the door opened, Maya had already put away the magnum and drawn the handgun.

One shot ended it. Eva’s light flickered off.
“Sorry!” Maya wasn’t. Eva growled at her, but stalked off, guns put in their holsters and arms up to suggest her status as ‘dead’. Maya grinned, contemplated running back to join the others but opted not to. Mitchel and his team were bound to head this way to gather supplies, so Maya started just grabbing all the cards that she could from the first room.

The sound of glass played, and she noticed what she had missed.
‘Shit.’ Ange was going to kill her. The revving of a chainsaw came as the human-actor pressed a button on the too-realistic looking chainsaw he held.

Maya bolted and, after a moment’s thought, ran the way that Eva had come.
‘Mitch is there.’ Mitchel could deal with the chainsaw zombie. Maya would escape when it berserked them.

It would not be the first time she’d used such low tactics, in anything.

Her shoulder hit the door and she came running into a room that looked like a laboratory. All eyes turned to her,
“Kill her!” Mitch shouted, and Maya managed to dodge behind a computer panel before any of the shots could be fired.

Then came that revving chainsaw noise, and Maya stayed crouched, inched around the panel and watched as the creature went after Mitchel’s team since it had lost sight of her.

She ran back the way she’d came, though her light did change once, yellow to red.
‘Damn you.’ She didn’t know who shot her, but they would pay.

Maya found her way back into that hallway, and she stole the ammunition and healing items from the second room, and returned to the room where Angelus was.

Andrew was no longer present. When Maya canted her head, Angelus sighed.
“Just too many of them. Where the hell were you?” She’d taken too long.

“Chainsaw zombie, and other team. I sicced it on the other team.”


Jasmine laughed. Angelus smiled as Maya began to offer up the items, noting that Angelus now held Andrew’s rifle. A card was used to heal Maya, and then the group of three moved to the wheels. Maya and Angelus turned them, though no new zombies descended on them. The room had been cleared, for the moment. The door opened for them, but when one released the wheel, it started to drop.

Maya and Angelus both quickly grabbed hold of their wheels. A nod to Jasmine, and she walked through the door.
“There’s two wheels on this side.”

“You go through, Ange. Then you and Jasmine can hold it open.”

He shook his head.
“You. You can’t crowd control.” He was always wary about that. Maya rolled her eyes, but consented. She let go, and she darted under the door before it could descend and close. She and Jasmine then took hold of the wheels on that side and turned to keep them open.

As Angelus predicted, their actions triggered more zombies. His shotgun was able to keep them back until he actually got through, and all three were able to use their weapons once again.

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #37 on: October 19, 2014, 07:48:09 am »
Humanity's Failure

The three ended up making it to the room with the vaccine, thanks to a keycard Maya had found in the room with the chainsaw zombie. “This is a trap,” Angelus said. It was so painfully obvious, too. The vaccine sat in the middle of the room, under a spotlight.

“Boss room, of course.”


“We could just take it and run. Lead the boss to Mitch.”


“And we’re the jerks.”


Maya grinned,
“I’ll get the vaccine.” She switched the handgun for the magnum and walked forward, Jasmine keeping near, and Angelus trying to keep everything in his sight at all times.

When Maya reached the vaccine and pulled it off its pedestal, lights lit up around her—red. They had explained this earlier. That signified that the passage was now blocked.
“Damn it!” Then she noted the pedestal had a weight. “Oh…hold on,” she took out her handgun, and then placed it on the pedestal, sacrificing it.

The lights went off, just in time for more to begin to illuminate around them, and for a zombie with a gatling gun to appear.
“Well fuck me.” Maya left the handgun there, as Angelus moved behind the boxes when the zombie began to unload. Maya also ran for cover, as did Jasmine. “This is bullshit! Bullshit! We shoulda let Mitch get it first.”

The zombie approached, ceasing its firing since it couldn’t hit anyone behind the boxes. Normally, they could discuss plans without worrying, but considering the zombie was a human actor, Angelus didn’t even want to propose it. They were going to have to figure this out in silence.


‘I have the shotgun and the rifle. Decisions, decisions.’
A glance to Jasmine. Jasmine gave a nod, and looked up. He understood, and started climbing his box pile.

Jasmine moved out of cover and started to fire at the zombie. Maya, also, stepped out just as it turned its attention to Jasmine. She shot at the zombie, but missed the first. Angelus took his aim with the rifle as the zombie focused on the two women, aiming right at the zombie’s headgear.

The first shot was a success, though Jasmine and Maya had both taken hits before he was able to get it off.

A second didn’t follow.

Mitchel, lone survivor of his team, entered and shot Angelus from behind with the magnum. Angelus’s light turned black.
“SON OF A BITCH!” He cursed louder this time, only to laugh. He crossed his arms over his chest and placed his guns down, but stayed to watch this fight.

Mitchel paid little attention to the zombie, since it hadn’t focused on him yet. He noted that Maya held the vaccine and fired at her.

Green to red. Maya had healed herself just before the shot, and was surprised to see it go to red so quickly. She ran behind boxes to avoid death as Mitchel aimed and fired again.

Jasmine took a path and ran behind Mitchel as he started to move to hunt down Maya, drawing the zombie’s attention to Mitchel’s existence. Mitchel cursed and ran to dodge behind another set of boxes as the gatling gun fired its bullets. He was struck, of course, but survived. Maya continued to dodge behind boxes, until she reached the ones where Angelus was ‘dead’ at. She set the magnum on one, since it was out of ammo. She climbed them as Jasmine continued to deal with their boss, and took the rifle.

Mitchel aimed up at her, fired again with his magnum. Maya managed to get down off the boxes then, but unfortunately the heels finally proved why they were not the best shoes. She stumbled and fell from the boxes, scraped knees and palms on the ground.
“Maya?” Jasmine looked from the human-actor, who also broke role to look concerned.

“You ok?”
Mitchel called, “Shoot, please—”

“Fine, fine, don’t get all emotional on me, Mitch, I’m still going to kill you.”
She laughed, managed to stand, and then took aim at Mitchel with the rifle. He dodged behind his own boxes.

“Can we just focus on the zombie?!”
Jasmine shouted at them.

“No, then I’m outnumbered!”
Mitch laughed, but didn’t expect what Maya did next. She slid the rifle across the floor, in front of the zombie’s feet. The actor had to pause and alter its footing so it wouldn’t step on the gun.

Jasmine unloaded in that second, and Maya ran for the door, leaving behind both Jasmine and Mitchel. The way to win the game was, after all, getting the vaccine back to the main room.

Jasmine was shocked to be left behind, and was picked off by the zombie then, which wasn’t quite dead. Mitchel finished it off with his magnum and immediately gave chase.

Zombies continued to pop up and try to slow or get in their way, but both pretty much ignored them as they ran through room to room, Mitchel slinging bullets at his target and almost always getting cut off at a door. That was, until he met his end when Maya did the unexpected. Manipulating a hoarde of zombies again, she ran back towards the door she knew Mitchel would enter through, and took a hard left when he opened the door, and the zombies were closing in on her.

The proximity caused his lights to go black, and Maya escaped through the door to the right of the room, last human alive.

Unfortunately, she didn’t get out with the vaccine either. Andrew, and some of the others, played the role of zombies near that exit to the main room, and were able to finish her off.

Angelus, Jasmine, and Mitch were waiting for them in the lobby when they returned, Maya laughing and Andrew apologizing profusely,
“I hate you,” she laughed, “We were going to win and you killed me!”

“That’s what you get for leaving people behind, Maya. If you had helped me, we could have made it out together.”
Jasmine retorted.

“And siccing a chainsaw zombie on us,”
Yvone huffed. Maya snickered.

“I lasted the longest. You all should remember this when the zombie apocalypse happens. Low tactics will keep you alive.”


“Low tactics will weaken humanity as a whole,”
Angelus noted. “And I would hope no one needs to compete for vaccines.”

“You have so much faith in humanity’s goodness,”
Mitchel shook his head at the naivete. “I’m on Maya’s side in this,” he said, wrapping an arm around her shoulders, earning a questioning look from Maya. He didn’t seem to notice, “When the end times come, I’m tripping all of you.”

“I’m shooting you in the head,”
Angelus said coolly, “if you’re going to play it that way.”

“She is.”

“She’s lying,” Angelus said, confident in that. Mitchel didn’t look convinced, “She’s good at it. Trust me. She gets paid for it.”

“Shut it,” Maya said, shrugging off Mitchel’s arm and walking to join Angelus and the others again.

“What, are you a lawyer?” Mitchel actually didn’t know what any of them did for a living. The question caused Angelus to stifle a laugh, and Jasmine rolled her eyes at his reaction.

“Actress,” Maya answered him. “Stage only right now,” she clarified. Perhaps one day, more. “Anyway, we need to be going. Jas and I have a party to get to, and I’m sure Ange actually wants to go win at a zombie game.”

“Fuck you,” he said immediately, but he wasn’t upset. “So, we’ll see ya around, Mitch. I’ll be in touch to put together a game of paintball before winter.”

Mitch nodded,
“Sounds good. Maya, thanks again, this was fun, and don’t let them kid you—you’d do well in a zombie apocalypse. I can see it.” She would survive. It might be that lying skill, and lying to herself, but she’d manage. He was certain that he would, too, of course. He wasn’t so sure about the more ‘noble’ ones, Ange and Jasmine in particular.

So they all split ways, Maya and Jasmine indeed going to a party, and Angelus going to his place to marathon zombie movies with Andrew, and cheap candy.

« Last Edit: October 19, 2014, 07:50:26 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #38 on: October 26, 2014, 04:51:02 am »
Eternal and Deathless

Death had never really understood time, its ebbs and its flows. Mostly, she did not understand when she, a creature outside of time, did not know something.

‘The paradox involves you.’

Her sister had said as much, but Death didn’t understand. Everything involved her. Every life involved her, and she was in every second. Not to mention, this was her champion.


“Of course it involves me,” she spoke to the air as her form materialized in the decaying toy store. “Everything involves me. That hasn't stopped me from entering paradoxes before,” After all, the Master's reign was a paradox. She had loved it, but then it was gone. She still went there, now and then, just to watch it over again.

She wasn’t just being narcissistic. The universes lived and breathed, and the universes died. She was a part of everything.
“I told you that even you would die.”

Her words were to the pile of dust, not the man in red who turned to look at her. It was Rassilon who had truly made her appear female more often than Male, Rassilon and the Gallifreyans who had worshiped her, once upon a time. Gallifrey grew up. Many realized it did not matter what they did to appease the Eternals, and so worship ceased. Others, like Rassilon, knew more than they ought about the Eternals.

He had just executed the Toy Maker. He was known as the Ravager of the Void. He was the only Time Lord to make it out of the Void with his body in tact.

Omega hadn’t been so lucky.
“Oh, you. I should have guessed.” She looked down at her attire, now resembling that of a Time Lady’s robes, but dark green to contrast with their red, silver to their gold. “You don’t look so well.” His robes were charred. He looked weak. “It isn’t your time. I’m here for the Toy Maker.” She bent, and touched the ashes. Rassilon would not be able to discern what the action did, but the action was necessary to ensure the death was permanent. The Toy Maker was no simple human; he was a creature of power. If his realm survived, it was possible that he might live. A fact the Doctor would have liked to know.

“Why have you made yourself visible?”


When Death looked up from the counter top, which was changing to soil, she realized Rassilon was taking hold of this realm and twisting it to his own well.
‘Well of course.’ She could feel it. An artefact of his had been brought here, then, allowing him control of this area. Which one was that? Never mind.

“I wanted to be.” No she didn’t. ‘Rassilon’s Mind.’ It was forcing her to be visible. This was his realm. His rules. Damn him. “I ought to kill this world.” She said, rising. “But you know something. My Champion…he did this to you, didn’t he? The one you call Master?”

His expression answered the question in the way it showed disgust. Death giggled in delight.
“Oh good! I’m on time. I did not think he’d elude you and survive, but he did.” When he had been so close to joining the dead again. He had been in her grasp, and she was plotting how to bring him back to life. He was losing all his life energy. He didn’t have another regeneration in him!

Rassilon’s disgust faded. A smugness took its place as he realized,
“You don’t know what happened.”

Her face contorted into a pout,
“No. So, I’ll let you keep this pretty little realm to play with, if you will tell me. You were the last to see him before….”

Well, she didn’t want to tell Rassilon that he changed.
“So he did not die.” No surprise. He had hoped, but he was used to the Master dashing his hopes. “I need not tell you anything.” Yes, Rassilon was too smart for his own good. “This realm is mine already.” He knew what had been released here. “It is no more the Toy Maker’s. It is mine, and I have made it my Game. You cannot destroy a realm such as this when its creator is not dead. The realm is dependent on the creator, and I live.”

Death hated him.

Death loved him.

Of all the people in all the worlds, Rassilon was a wonderful harbinger of Death. He loved genocide, he just never admitted it. Daleks, Xhinn, Vampires—he’d plotted the final ends of so many races from his narcissism, but he was clever enough to make up other reasons for it.


“TELL ME!”


He didn’t budge, even though her shout shook the very walls that were rising up, and shattered the mirrors.
“You will go into Gallifrey,” he said, “And you will bring me my harp, and my ring.”

Fury burned in her dark eyes.
“And I will tell you what you so desperately want to know about that demented man.”

A Time Lord didn’t live as long as Rassilon without knowing how to deal with Death.

He could see the threats in her eyes. If she had a mind, he would have known them, but her mind was far too vast for him to even dream of probing. It was too many places at once, focused on too much at once, even if the Death he saw was only focused on one thing. Rassilon had made the mistake of trying to manipulate an Eternal through psionics in his early years. It was worse than looking into the vortex.

Death said nothing. She stepped back, vanished, and then her foot appeared as she seemed to simply step back into the realm, pulling a harp with her, and holding his ring.

She relinquished neither.
“Talk or I destroy them.” She had that power, at least.

Rassilon answered then,
“The Master was pulled back before he crossed into Gallifrey. I stepped into the Void to follow, but it did not work as planned.” The Master’s lightning assault had stopped, so he thought to follow the Master out, too, but it hadn’t been as clean as he wanted. Still, he was no worse for wear. “It was some woman. Human, I think.”

“Black hair?”
Death interrupted before he could continue. Death had seen her, when she saw the Master had lived, when she found where he ended up, when she saw he was different. “Green eyes, pale, this tall,” a motion, a little taller than herself. She only ever saw that one in heels, she wasn’t certain her real height.

Rassilon nodded.


“But…that’s not…it isn’t—URGH!”
Apparently it was possible. Death didn’t know how, or why, but she would follow it up. Her foot stamped the ground, “How? How?!”

Paradox, Time had said.

Paradox seemed accurate. She’d have to search through that girl’s timeline to figure it out.
“Thank you.” She released both harp and ring, both falling to the ground—Death might have pushed the harp—and she stepped out again.

The first clue would come in the form of River Song when Death looked at Maya’s past, in relation to the Master, and Death would soon find herself hating three very annoying, very paradoxical, individuals. Despite complaining to Time that they were disrespecting her realm, her sister was unmoved.

Death would have to take matters into her own hands.

She waited between, in the Void, seeking out the moment it began.

Death’s eyes opened when a ring box was thrown.

« Last Edit: October 26, 2014, 04:11:20 pm by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #39 on: October 29, 2014, 02:16:32 am »
Mephistopheles

The red caught his eyes, and then the way the fabric shimmered in the light. The cut was revealing, and Devlin’s jaw dropped as his eyes lifted to Maya’s face and saw the horns on her head, “No, fucking way.” The horns were a surprise. “You’re too young to be wearing stuff like that!” Just turned eighteen, but this was far from the worst thing she’d ever worn. Her dance outfits seemed to get more revealing each time. She and Devlin were 99% certain that sluttier outfits got higher ratings for most dance styles. Waltzes might be the only exception.

She purposefully twirled so the skirt would spin high, showing that much more as she twisted her lips into a devilish grin and then let her arms fall on his shoulders, and her fingers entwine behind his neck. She leaned forward so he was taking some of her weight on his shoulders,
“Hello, my darling dinner. I mean, doctor.”

He was trying so hard not to laugh.
“Mephistopheles is a male role.” He glanced towards the staff.

“Yeah, er, it doesn’t have to be. It is a demon. And she…she really did it better than the others who tried out.”


“Well of course she did, she is Satan!”
Maya laughed, forehead pressing to his chest as she bowed it to hide some of her gleeful amusement with the situation. “God, damn it.” And then his arms wrapped around her, pulling her against him as she let out a squeak of surprise, nearly lost her balance. Fortunately, she was able to step with the movement. “How? Why?”

“There’s no decent female role in it except Helena, and she bores me,”
Maya answered, “So I stole Paradise Lost from Ange.” Because of course he would own the epic poem. She saw Devlin’s face screw up in confusion, “Yeah,” and of course no one ever believed her about her brother’s habits. He came across as a punk who was likely going to die in a gutter with a needle in his arm. “Memorized one of Lucy’s—”

“We’re calling him Lucy?”


“—speeches, and convinced them that angels don’t have genders, so yes--"


"Do you want to suffer in hell?"


"Lucyfer. We're calling it Lucyfer.”


“Are we actually using Lucyfer in this play?”


“Still Mephistopheles.”


“Naah. Lucyfer.” 


“Mephistopheles!”


“Damn it, we made it a woman, can’t we change the name, too?”


“No!”


“Names have no meaning for a demon!”
Maya laughed, “I could be Lucyfer!”

“Would both of you knock it off and read your damn scripts?”
They both fell into laughter, arms still around each other. The man muttered something incomprehensible to both of them.

“You said you were going to edit it first,”
Maya reminded once she pulled herself together, “To better fit the casting, remember? I haven't received a new one yet.”

“What did I call you here for, then?”


“General meeting of the cast.”


“…that’s not for another hour.”


“Yeah, I got use of the theater for Maya and I to practice dance. Not sure what you’re doing here, Ron.”


“Examining the stage to figure the setting and props out.”


Maya let her arms drop from around Devlin as he shifted his posture, a hand going to his hip. There were a few moments of silence, then Devlin shrugged,
“Well, we’re still going to use it. I'll find a way to sneak it in.” He whispered to Maya, winked, and then walked to the boom box that never left. “I know why you selected this song now.”

“I thought it’d help,”
she couldn’t help the smile on her lips. “Angelus loves Kamelot. He told me of it when I was leaving with his book.”

She remembered him shouting about how the group had songs based on the story of Doctor Faustus, and so when she listened to them, when she got the part and learned Devlin was playing Faustus, there had been no question about what they had to do for the upcoming dance competition.
“It will be fun,” she said as she advanced towards him, the music finally starting as he hit play.

“Yeah,”
Devlin smirked as he let her take his hand. “For once you get to lead. That’ll fuck with the judges.” For the demon had to lead. Fortunately, this was freestyle.
« Last Edit: November 09, 2014, 02:57:09 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #40 on: November 09, 2014, 02:56:39 am »
Pawns, Knights, and Kings

“This is Aeron Harper, owner of Harper Publishing. He has a background as a lawyer, and he’s quite good at it. I know you need a new legal consultant….”

Setsuna Mori did not hear most of what was said as he sat in the room while introductions were being made. He knew Arthur Whitehall, but he did not know Aeron Harper, had never heard of him before although the name ‘Harper’ sounded familiar. He’d seen books with that publication. He’d seen a law firm with the name Harper before.

Conversation swirled around him as he tapped into his phone to search for more. He was new to UNIT, despite his high position. A mix of family connections and skill led to his placement—the Mori were powerful in Japan, and wanted to expand their reach, as they’d done in the past.

This was one step of many, poised to work out over centuries. It had taken two centuries to overthrow the Tokugawa. They were good planners.


‘And you barely exist.’
A frown. ‘Well….’

There was information on Harper publications and all they had their hands in. Aeron would be useful. He controlled the newspapers, one television station, and much else in the realm of information. He had quite a good record as a lawyer, when he served. There had been a break years ago.
‘When you put a restraining order on an Angelus Porter.’

This information was not accessible, though. The reasons for Aeron’s removal from his firm was missing, erased. Setsuna’s brows furrowed. He tapped the name Angelus and followed it instead, finding information on Aeron’s former engagement but little else. No reason why it ended. No connections.


“Any questions?”
Someone asked.

Setsuna looked up, asked,
“How much of a threat is this Angelus Porter going to be?”

Everyone except Aeron looked confused.
“I see you thought it necessary to file a restraining order against him, and have been doing so every year since 2008.”

Aeron cast a glance towards Arthur, before answering.
“He should not be a concern,” when he spoke, Setsuna felt strange. His voice flowed like honey, despite the topic, “He has been in Bristol since 2008 and has made no advances against me since, but I am in the habit of refiling. That is all there is to it. What was your name again?”

“Mori. Setsuna Mori.”
Setsuna wanted to answer. In that moment, he was enchanted with Aeron in a way he couldn’t explain. His mind tried to associate it with an appreciation for the honesty, for not avoiding the question—and yet he couldn’t find it in himself to push more, for why it was necessary in the first place.

Aeron’s eyes burned like coals.
“I’ll remember,” they had engraved the name into his mind. Another call for questions was made, and the ones that followed were more typical.

As they came, and as Aeron or Arthur answered, Setsuna found himself unable to stop thinking about the man. It was bizarre to him; he’d never had such an interest in a man before, unless they were an enemy of his. He’d obsessed over enemies before, but never potential allies.
‘Is he an enemy?’ He wondered, and felt a pull suggest he was.

There was something wrong.

It went ignored when Aeron smiled to him and bid him farewell, exiting with Arthur. His natural instinct which told him Aeron was a predator, was destroyed.

Setsuna jogged after him,
“Wait! Mr. Harper.”

Aeron paused as if it was exactly what he expected, but he had the decency to look surprised. Curious.
“I apologize for the question earlier, it was uncalled for. Here,” he offered out a card that had his name and number on it, “If you have any other questions about UNIT, I can help you. I arrived here a couple months back, so all the information is still pretty fresh in my head.”

Aeron flipped the card into the pocket of his suit,
“Why don’t you come have a drink with Arthur and I? I didn’t mind your question at all. I would have been concerned about someone who has restraining orders as well.”

He couldn’t refuse. He didn’t want to refuse.
“Certainly. Let me go get my things and I’ll join you.” Setsuna jogged off.

Aeron smiled, smug, but when he looked to Arthur he saw only disapproval.
“You said we needed more in UNIT.” He didn’t understand.

“Setsuna Mori is too high on the ladder. Enthralling him will cause us unwanted attention.”


Aeron rolled his eyes. He offered no comment on it, though, except to ask,
“Is that also why you’ve not enthralled anyone in Torchwood?” He’d met Jack only recently. He didn’t like Jack at all. He was much too brash and flirtatious for Aeron. Jack had, of course, shrugged off all possible help despite what had happened to Torchwood before. Jack was much too stubborn for his own good. He was cordial to Arthur, but had made his lack of interest clear.

“Not here,”
Arthur decided. “Just remember not to toy with this one after tonight.” They’d have drinks and that would be it.

‘We’ll see.’
Little did either know in that moment that Setsuna would become much more than an enthralled pawn. None would have guessed then as the man hurried back to them with a messenger bag over his shoulder.

Aeron would discover he wanted Mori around as he delved into the man’s past and history, and learned of the intricate plans his family was weaving to become an international powerhouse. Setsuna revealed it all easily, drunk on Aeron’s presence, an easy victim while human.

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #41 on: November 09, 2014, 05:27:30 am »
Passing

“51%.”

The Doctor glanced off to the side as he sat awkwardly at his parent’s table.
“I passed.” He didn’t need to look at his father to know what look was on his face. His brows would have creased together. His lips would be a tight line. He would be something between confusion and anger.

“We’re proud of you for that,”
his mother said.

Oh, his poor mother picked the wrong words.
“We are not,” his father said. “You’re better than this, Doctor.”

He wasn’t sure if he was or wasn’t. He’d used the Master’s trick pen, but made sure not to get all the answers right lest it seem too suspicious. Just enough to pass—literally.
“Why are you doing so poorly?” There was concern there. That caused the Doctor to look towards his father, and see he must have been mistaken about his expression. His father looked worried. “Is everything all right?”

“Yeah!” Of course it was, “Really.”

“Then why are you doing so poorly in school?”


“Dear….” But she didn’t continue.

The Doctor shrugged his shoulders. He leaned back in his chair.
“I don’t know,” he answered, looked off again. “It’s boring. I can’t focus. I don’t want to do any of it.”

“But don’t you want to have a TARDIS one day?”
His mother asked.

“Yeah,” he agreed, “But I don’t…I don’t know, I don’t see the purpose to most of these classes. They’re not teaching me anything useful.”

“They are teaching you how to focus,”
his father suggested, and the Doctor bit the inside of his cheek, “They are teaching you about responsibility and fulfilling your duties. They are building character traits that are necessary for being a Time Lord. Your friend, the Master, is doing well.”

It always went back to him. His father thought the Master a good example for the Doctor to follow.
“And he has time for his hobbies, too.”

“Or maybe he’s hypnotizing everyone,”
the Doctor shrugged his shoulders.

His father looked bewildered by that,
“What? That wouldn’t be possible….” For certainly the other Time Lords and Time Ladies would be able to resist a child’s attempts at hypnotism. “Don’t make excuses. I want you to do better. If you ever want to leave Gallifrey on your own, you have to prove capable. School is the measure of that.”

“I know.” This wasn’t really about what he wanted. It was about what his father wanted. “I’ll work on it,” he would. He always did try. He was just so easily distracted.

He pushed his plate forward,
“I’m done,” he rose, “I’m gonna go to bed.” He wasn’t tired, he just didn’t want this conversation to go any further. He shouldn’t be talking about the Master and what he did, for his friend was truly smart. He was just bitter. He knew that the Master found all of this boring, too, but he was still able to do it, and the Doctor did envy that.

“Don’t you want dessert?”
His mother asked, and he shook his head.

He went to his room. His parents had kept it the same while he was at the Academy. It was always prepared for him when he arrived, and he smiled again at the small details his mother added. The candle that was burning was a scent he loved, roses. His bed was made, recently washed sheets and blankets. There were sweets nearby. He set aside the twinkies out of habit. He’d see the Master soon, either at the Academy or during their break. He owed the Master for that pen.

He opened up one of the chocolate bars and took a notebook from his bags, and went back to jotting in it, more on sonic theory. He heard his parents speaking, but couldn’t make it out. He knew they were discussing him, though. Their hushed tones said it all.

Eventually, he heard their steps come this way. He quickly put aside his notebook, threw the blankets over himself, and rolled onto his side. He shut his eyes and feigned sleep as the door opened.
“Doct—ah….” His father sighed. The Doctor thought he would leave then, but the steps moved further in. He tensed, prepared to be ‘woken’, but instead he heard his notebook picked up.

‘Did I close it?’


Apparently not.
“Sonic?”

He heard his mother chuckle quietly,
“No one else is even thinking of that. Once lasers came onto the scene….”

“There are notes here for the vibrations of locks. Thousands of them,”
his father sounded impressed.

“Our son is a genius,”
his mother reminded.

“I know,” a sigh, and the Doctor heard the notebook being set back where it had been. “I just wish he’d…he’d realize how important it is to stay focused.”

“He will. He is young.”
By their standards, anyway.

Their steps retreated from his room, but the Doctor didn’t immediately roll over to resume his project of devising a sonic instrument. He let himself drift off to sleep instead, with the pleasant reminder that, for all his father’s disappointment, the man did still love him, did still believe in him.


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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #42 on: November 09, 2014, 08:00:16 pm »
Outside The Box

The Doctor stared at the perigosto stick he had been presented as a gift for doing so well in the science fair, and for his acceptance into the Time Lord academy. For once, he’d even beaten his friends in it with his use of dimensional portals. The judges still couldn’t believe he thought such a thing easy, just from his grades, so he’d had to prove he could make them before their eyes. They thought his mother had helped him cheat.

‘I can focus on something when it’s interesting.’


This toy he wasn’t so sure of. His father told him it was for four-dimensional juggling, but it certainly didn’t look like it. It looked more like a clarinet, or an oboe, or any of the Earth instruments he’d seen. How did one juggle with a stick that had a sphere at the end of it?

Well, he knew how he could make it an instrument.

He ran out of his room, down the stairs, and into the garage where his mother kept her TARDIS. His father didn’t have one of his own. He didn’t go into it. He’d done that once, and he’d never forget the punishment for it. It was the tools he wanted, so he snatched up several of them, and then ran back through the house and up to his room.

He dumped them down onto the floor and then sat down, crossed his legs underneath himself and went to work.

He had to add holes to the instrument. The perigosto stick was fortunately already hollowed out—he guessed that by the weight of it. There was already a hole in the sphere, which was where the Doctor imagined the music could actually escape from. The others would serve to allow the Doctor to dictate the sounds that actually came out of the instrument.

Of course, he needed something to blow into. He made another run to get wood, then distracted himself with the Earth instruments. He left the wood behind, deciding he liked the flute method better. It was just going to be awkward with how he’d already designed the perigosto. Keys were added.


“Doctor, I’ve—” his father started to speak as he opened the door, then paused. His eyes widened in horror as he saw the scene before him, the ruined perigosto stick. “What have you done?!”

“Wait, wait!”
The Doctor said, “It’s fine. I made it right.” His father didn’t show any belief in his words, so he brought it close to his lips. He blew, and his fingers manipulated the keys. Out from the sphere came a beautiful, bell-like sound. It echoed within the sphere, adding a beautiful eerie-ness to it.

He smiled at his own accomplishment. He hadn’t expected the echo, but he liked it. With different metals, he could really manipulate the sound.
“See!” He was practically glowing with pride, a little seven year old Gallifreyan with his new toy.

His father stood in shock. His anger shifted to confusion, before he sighed and smiled. Oh his suffering. No one believed him when he told them his son was a genius, and it had gotten to the point where he even started to doubt his son just because of his progress in school.

Then he went and did things like this. He turned a juggling toy into a musical instrument, in a day.

He didn’t know how to react to it, so he just said,
“Well done,” and turned to leave, forgetting why he had come in the first place.

“Dad!”

He paused, glanced back.
“What did you want?”

“Oh!” He turned back around, “Right, the Master’s parents invited us to dinner. It’s his birthday tomorrow, isn’t it?”

‘Yes. Eight.’
The Doctor would be just a little bit behind him. The Master’s initiation was tomorrow, so they wouldn’t get to celebrate then. It was a shame the Master had beaten him at the science fair that day, considering the timing. He hoped his friend was all right.

“Did you want to go?”


“Of course! Um, I don’t have a gift for him….”
He frowned, glanced at his perigosto stick. He could give it to the Master. He’d have something unique, all his own, something special. ‘Yeah, but anyone could do this.’ He thought it was obvious, after all. Maybe there was a reason people didn’t make them as instruments.

No, the Master needed something special. Something unique. Something Gallifrey couldn’t give him.

The Doctor jumped to his feet,
“Mom!” And he started running, confusing his dad, “Mom, mom, mom, mom!” And she exited her own room, confused and amused, as the Doctor came running to her and wrapped his arms around her legs. “Mom, can we go to Earth? Pretty please? I wanna get the Master something good before tomorrow.”

“Of course. We’ll make a quick hop to Earth. When would you like to go?”


“Oh…um, what time is it you get those, uh, the things that taste really sweet? And chewy?” He couldn’t remember their name. He wasn’t that good at reading English yet. He was studying High Gallifreyan at the moment.

“Jelly Babies. Yes, I know when.”
And with a glance to her husband, she ushered the Doctor along, taking him by the hand to go with her to Earth.

He’d never gotten to go himself yet. Technically, he wasn’t allowed, but for a quick jump to find a birthday present, she’d make an exception. The Doctor would return with a bunch of goodies, not all food, but some things he thought the Master would like, twinkies included.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #43 on: November 10, 2014, 06:38:03 am »
Black And White

“Your grandfather is dead.”


Sixteen and fourteen, Maya and Angelus faced their first true death in different ways. They were both expected to go to the funeral, though Angelus immediately protested. He screamed and he shouted, usually able to get out of anything he didn’t want to do that way, but it didn’t work. Maya calmly accepted the duty, another in a long line of duties.

What she didn’t know was how to accept the loss. She sat on her bed the day of the funeral, and tried to make sense of the situation. It was the moment she got up to grab her cell phone and call her grandfather that she realized there was a problem in her methods.
‘He’s not going to be there. He’s dead.’ Her mother’s father, the one who was always so proud of her accomplishments, gone. 

She took in a deep breath.

She exhaled.
‘Ok. Focus.’ How did most people deal with loss? Crying, of course. Weren’t flowers a part of the ritual? Flowers and black. Grief. ‘But when do we recover? How do we get better?’ Time. Wasn’t that always the case? Time heals all wounds. ‘But….’ A hand pushed through her dark hair and she paced back to her bed, but didn’t sit. ‘What flower?’ Her mind focused on that problem. ‘What is the funeral flower? Are there black flowers?’ She had heard of black roses, but never seen one.

She heard movement throughout the house. Two hours until the funeral. She didn’t think Angelus would be awake, but she crept out of her room and went to his. She knocked.
“Ange?”

After a few moments, he came to the door and opened it.

He was already in his suit. Maya frowned. That wasn’t right.
“What are you wearing?”

“Mom said I had to.”


“Get out of that.”
Maya hated it when he obeyed. She lived rebellion through him.

Ange blinked. Then, with no hesitation whatsoever, said,
“Hold on,” and shut the door. He returned in a minute, changed into black jeans and a black tank top. He motioned Maya in and she saw his suit scattered on his bed. He shut the door. “What’s up?”

“I don’t know what flower to bring to the funeral.”


Angelus arched an eyebrow.
“I’m sure mom’s bought some.”

Maya shook her head.
“No, I want to bring something. I just don’t know what.” She didn’t even understand her own need, but that was the proper word. Need. There was something pulling at her, something trying to direct her to a way to make the transition from grief to healing easier. It started here.

“Well, I don’t know what you’re supposed to do.”
Angelus stated. “I don’t even want to go.” He sat down on the bed, on his suit, and put a book back in his lap. “It isn’t going to change anything. People just go to these things for comfort.” He had a keen insight even then, into the nature of funerals. “It isn’t like the dead can smell the flowers or anything. They’re dead.”

“Hush,” Maya said it in a scolding voice. “He’s in heaven. He might be able to smell the flowers.”

Angelus rolled his eyes. He doubted heaven. He doubted all of it, but Maya wouldn’t hear it. He knew that, and he knew he shouldn't continue on that. It wouldn't help either of them to argue the finer points of death.
“Whatever. Either way, he’s gone, and we’re the only ones who suffer. So we come together, and we remember the people who live and suffer. It makes it less.”

“Why don’t you want to go, then?”


Angelus shook his head. He shrugged.
“Because they’re going to be talking like you, and telling me he’s in a better place.” She saw the pricks of tears then, “When he isn’t. And even if he is, it doesn’t matter, ‘cause he’s not here with me. I don’t care where he is. He’s gone from me and that’s all that matters. I don’t want their lies.”

His suffering was honest, his lack of support clear. Maya swallowed her own pride, her own want to believe that their grandpa was in a better place, and sat down on his dress shirt to wrap an arm around his shoulders.
“Ok,” she said, “He’s gone. And he’s not with us. And that sucks, and we can’t do anything about it but bitch and cry and lie to ourselves.”

The fact she used ‘bitch’ caused Angelus to look up in surprise, some of his sorrow wiped away in that shock. Maya didn’t curse. It wasn’t lady-like. Gently, she took the book from Angelus’s lap and opened it. He looked down as she did, and watched her flip through the pages of his poetry collection, famous poems by famous poets. He wanted more obscure things, but this was what he had. He had been seeking something in it that morning.

Death was such a universal thing. He wanted to find comfort.

It wasn’t found in the book. Maya gave up the search early, an inspiration drawing itself from a few glanced-at words. Angelus was the poet, not her.


click

“Everyone agrees it came too soon
It was only meant to be an interception.
You kept fear of death in the back pocket of your jeans
In the palm of your hand, affection.”


His gaze lifted from the book to her, and it softened, accepting she’d stolen away his book as he took comfort in a song for once, not classical. Her secret. Their secret. He’d been finding her songs and sheet music of things more modern.


“It came like a sudden gust of wind
Leaving them bewildered to ask how
I recall last time we met, you said we’d meet again
The irony is bitter now.”


It provided her little comfort, but she could see the appreciation in Angelus’s gaze, so she sung to calm his rage, his anger, his sorrow, if only for a while. When the song came to a close, he pulled at her hand as he rose. “C’mon,” he told her, “Let’s go find a flower.” She looked bemused, but he pulled and she stood.

They walked to the door and exited the room, hand in hand. They were caught at the living room.
“Angelus, what are you wearing? That’s not—”

“We’ll be right back,” Maya was quick to speak to their mother, “He didn’t want to get it dirty. We’re making a quick run, and we’ll meet you at the church.” Angelus would not be getting back into his suit. She could feel his appreciation in the squeeze of her hand.

Their mother hesitated. However, she trusted Maya.
“All right,” she said, and out the door the two went before she could reconsider.

Angelus led Maya by pulling her hand to turn her in different directions. They were no where near a flower shop, but he knew a gas station that sold flowers. Or at least, he thought they did. He’d seen them there before.

They entered to the toll of bells, and Angelus smiled as he saw the small, individual roses in a jar on the counter.
“There!”

Maya frowned, “Roses are love flowers.” That much she knew.

“You loved him, didn’t you?” Angelus asked.

‘Touche.’
Maya didn’t say that aloud, but her expression told him that she got the point. She walked to the counter and began to look over the flowers as Angelus walked off to look at the goodies in the aisles.

Maya read the words associated with each rose color, and paused on the white.


‘Purity. Innocence.’


Those words she expected.


‘Respect. Reverence.’


Interesting.


‘Silence. New Beginnings.’


Maya remained looking at those two words for what felt like minutes, but could have only been seconds. What better choice? What better indicator?

She took one of them from the jar, just as Angelus returned with chocolates which he let fall upon the counter.
“And that,” he told the cashier, motioning to Maya’s rose. It was all rung up, and Angelus paid.

Outside, he offered Maya a chocolate bar.
“Here. You’re gonna get hell for letting me go to the funeral like this.”

Maya took the chocolate,
“Thank you,” she didn’t eat it then, though. “Let’s get to the church.” Angelus nodded his agreement, and they walked, neither detouring back home. They spoke of their grandfather on the way, not of where he was, but only of where he’d been, and what he’d meant, what he’d done, so that by the time they reached the church they were the only two smiling and laughing. Amidst the somber crowd that made up their mother’s side of the family, they were not well-received. Maya slipped back into her customary role and apologized profusely to their mother for Angelus’s appearance, while Angelus snuck up to the coffin.

He glanced to either side, to make sure no one else was near. Open coffin. Heart attack. Angelus put the chocolate under his grandfather’s hands.
“Don’t tell a soul.” Diabetic. Had he helped to kill his grandfather?

He bent forward and placed a hasty kiss to his grandfather's forehead, whispered,
“I love you.” No flowers from him. Chocolate was more fitting, more personal, for his grandfather.

He realized momentarily his own hypocrisy.
“Haunt me if it’s real.” ‘Please.’ Because he wanted to believe that somewhere, somehow, there was an afterlife. There were angels, and there was a loving God, and there was…anything but the darkness he feared.

With that, he slipped off and saw his mother cast him a glare. He put on an obnoxious smile, and then collapsed into a pew, casual posture in tact. He was making it worse for Maya, he knew, but it was his mother’s fault for bringing him. She knew by now not to take him out in public. He was the terrible child, after all.

Eventually, they all went into the church to sit. Maya wasn’t allowed to sit by him, so his father did.

He put chocolate in his father’s hand without a word, and offered a second one as well, that could be given to his mom. When his father gave him a confused look, he just put a finger to his lips. His father didn’t question it. He took the chocolate.

They listened to the sermon. Angelus tried not to doze off. It lasted far too long, and as he expected, it was full of pretty lies. He glanced around to see if anyone else was tired of this, but all he saw were wet eyes and bowed heads. So, he suffered alone, followed his family to the limousines to the gravesite, sat through another service, and then stayed to watch his grandfather lowered into the ground.

It was during that, when most others had cleared off, that he saw his father offer the chocolate.

Maya stood near the grave, and held an empty wrapper, a smile on her lips and a memory in her eyes.

The wind whispered,
“Come give me your hand tonight, your star is bright.”

And for a moment, Angelus regretted disappointing his grandfather and not continuing the family legacy of musicians.
« Last Edit: November 10, 2014, 06:39:20 am by Krystal Itzume »

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #44 on: November 16, 2014, 05:49:21 am »
Text Spam

So, where are you
now?


TARDIS. Not sure
where we’re going
yet.


Bring me back a
lightsaber.


You’re a Jedi.
No.


I could be sith.


There can only be two.


You’re one. Who’s the other?


Darth Despotes.


Is he the apprentice?


Maybe.


Does he know this?


Maybe.

I will show him these
texts if you don’t bring
me back a lightsaber.


You’ll forget.


My padawan won’t.


Your padawan can be
bought. Juls is practically
sith.


Touche. Still.
Lightsaber.


Talked to Strong
family.


And?


Julian’s son was
named Andrew.


You want me to
call?


No….


Ange? You ok?


No. Come home.


Not now, Ange.


Why not? Why the
fuck are you off with
him anyway?


I’m calling,
Ange.

[swaying mountain video]
The mountains are indeed
blowing in the wind.


Mountains can’t do that.


They are.


They’re not mountains then.


What are they?


I…don’t know.


Deal with it, Ange.
[swaying mountain video]
The mountains are indeed
blowing in the wind.


That is amazing. Where
are you?


Feldspoon. Lovely place.

[Twin Sunset Video]
Not moons, two suns.


Wicked! Where is that?


Magrathea, I think. He
wanted to see it. It is gorgeous,
isn’t it?


Yes! You will have to
see a planet with more
moons now.


[Twin Sunset Video]
Not moons, two suns.


Gallifrey?


No, not Gallifrey.
Other planets have
two suns.


You been to Gallifrey?

No.


Why not? Have you
asked?


I don’t think he
wants to go there.
Though….


His idea to see the
sunset, wasn’t it?


Yeah.


You should ask.

Maybe later.


Afraid?


Does he know of
London? Who you were
before meeting him?
Does he know what
you do?


A little. Not
London.


Tourists. Both of
you. You trust him,
don’t you?

Yes. It just doesn’t
come up. The past
is the past. Juls doesn’t
know much.


He’s not Juls.


Gotta run!
Text later!

[Black Cat Picture]
This is my cat.


It better not be
getting into my
room.


It lives outside.
Apartment rules.


Good. Name?

Dunno.


Your cat and
it has no name.


I’ll think of
one later. Where
are you?


TARDIS. Can’t
sleep.


He sleeping?


Probably not.

Does he sleep?


A little. Like,
an hour for every
twenty four.


Have him make
me a lightsaber.


NO.

I’ll let him take
you to see dragons.


…boy. Do you
realize what you
wrote?


I do now, yes.
Confession of
sin.


You’re a jerk.


Yes. But you
don't need
dragons.


I AM
KHALEESI.


Go away.

Maya, could
you talk the Master
into letting UNIT
examine the translating
device?


Probably not.


Will you try?


Not right
now. Maybe in
the future. What
about the Doctor?


He’s…he does
not share.


Maybe there’s a
reason.


Coming from the
duo who went to
save Caesar.


We let him die!

Uh huh.
Ask.


[Neo-Tokyo Storefront Picture]
Hello Kitty survives.


Sarah would have
loved this.


Yeah….


Juls is dedicating
Christmas to her.


That’s nice.


You’ll be here,
right?


Ange would kill me
if I didn’t show.


Don’t you want to
come?


Yes.


Not convincing.


I do, but…I don’t
know. I miss you all.


You’re just having
too much fun, right?


Yeah.

I understand. I
will see you soon!


[Tokyo Storefront Picture]
Hello Kitty Survives.


Mecha, or nah?


No. No lightsabers
either.


I know you’re lying.


I wouldn’t get
Jedi a lightsaber.
We’ve been over
this.


So, if I’m sith…
Or nah?


No. What is this
‘or nah’?


You don’t like
it…or nah?

That makes no
sense.


Nah-sense?

I will end you,
boy.


Or nah?


Who taught Ange
‘or nah’?
What is
‘or nah’?



Juls. And don’t.
Just don’t.
Ange has been
using it for days.
Best to just
ignore it. He can
smell anger.


How does Ange
feel about Frozen?


He hates it.
Wait, you watched
Frozen?


I get downtime.
And Future
Netflix.
And Future everything.


Have fun.


You wanna build a
snowman, or nah?


Nah. Cyberman.


You wanna build a
Cyberman?


Yeah.


But Caesarman?

Nah. Let it go.

I hope Laura dumps
you.

YOU LIED TO ME.

ROFL. Ange always
likes Disney, Maya.
Always.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #45 on: November 16, 2014, 10:55:17 pm »
Fandoms

“And what name is associated with this drink?” The friendly barista asked.

Maya could have just given her name and made this simple, but she was in a new city. New rules.
“Daenerys Stormborn of the house Targaryen,” she could feel her brother’s eyes on her back, “the first of my name, the Unburnt, Queen of Meereen, Queen of the Andals and First Men, Khaleesi of the Great Grass Sea, Breaker of Chains, and Mother of Dragons.” And then she heard the stifled laughter from behind her, but she didn’t look back.

The barista looked awestruck.
“You have that memorized.”

“It is my title.” She looked absolutely nothing like Daenerys, but right then, who was going to challenge her?

“We mere mortals will do our best to remember it in full,”
the barista said, and then broke character with a laugh to say, “That is pretty epic.”

Maya shrugged. She wanted to confess that she was an actress, a musician, and a dancer to prove that memorization was nothing to her, but didn’t. She was none of those things anymore.
“Thank you,” she managed instead, and stepped aside to await her drink while Angelus placed his order.

“And the name?”


He motioned to Andrew, who played his role as the Onion Knight,
“You are speaking to Stannis of the House Baratheon, First of his Name, King of the Andals and First Men, Lord of the Seven Kingdoms and Protector of the Realm.” And Maya had to cover her lips to stop from bursting into laughter. Of course Angelus didn’t have that memorized, but he gave a sage nod as if he did, and knew what Andrew should have said. Andrew was good at memorization, too. All that medical stuff had to be memorized, after all.

“And who are you, then?”


Andrew straightened up.
“Just the humble Onion Knight, Davos Seaworth.”

“Ser Davos Seaworth. He is my hand.”


“I see, I see. And what will Davos be getting?”


“Jasmine tea, please,” Andrew requested.

“Wait, why do we have Khaleesi and Stannis in the same room?”


“We hate the Lannisters,” Maya answered.

All eyes went to Jasmine, who laughed,
“Do I look like a Lannister?” Seemed she was going to have to play along now, since she was in the group. “Lords,” she rolled her eyes, and after Angelus had paid for him and Andrew both, she stepped forward to place her own order for coffee. “And I’m Lady Stoneheart.”

Someone spilled hot water at that.
“Shit.”

“Who’s Lady Stoneh—”

“Don’t spoil it! I’m not that far, either.”

“Now this group makes no sens—”


“We hate the Lannisters.”
Jasmine re-emphasized.

They received their cups, and no one remembered the full titles of Stannis nor Daenerys, but they were forgiven…grudgingly.


~***~

Angelus kept his hands firmly over Maya’s eyes as they walked into the building, careful steps urging her to keep walking forward.
“Almost there.” He should have bought a blindfold, but it was spur of the moment to hide it from her.

A few more steps, and they were within the room. It was the civic theater Juls had mentioned, but more than that. Maya would recognize that, though she hadn’t explored it much. Ange had done his own investigation. Up the wooden steps to the stage.
“Careful,” he said, “There’s four.” And so she made her steps accordingly, and walked along the wood.

They came to a pause, and Angelus took one of her hands in his, and moved it forward so it could brush over the white and black keys. There was a tension, a pause, and then an excitement as she brushed his hand off of her eyes to see the piano. Confusion, and then,
“I asked the theater if they’d be willing to let you use it now and then, to practice. You were complaining the other day about how you can’t really practice in coffee shops,” they weren’t looking for someone who wanted to experiment, or test new songs and melodies. “It isn’t the best piano, but….” He shrugged.

Maya didn’t care about that, then. She spun on heel and wrapped Angelus in an embrace,
“Thank you!” For she hadn’t even considered it, though she’d seen the piano here. It was used in plenty of the musicals, and almost never left its place here except during shows where it wasn’t used.

And almost as quickly as she’d hugged him, she pulled away and took a seat on the bench. She moved her fingers over the keys, and begin to press them down, testing the sound, before music was pulled from those fingers.


click

“Oh come on!”


“‘And who are you,’
the proud lord said,"


Maya enjoyed playing with her voice in this song, shifting between the two speakers, the Reyne and the Lannister.


"‘That I must bow so low?
Only a cat of a different coat,
That’s all the truth I know.
In coat of gold
Or coat of red
A lion still has claws,
And mine are long and sharp,
My Lord,
As long and sharp as yours.’”


Angelus grinned and leaned on the piano, couldn’t resist,


“And so he spoke,

and so he spoke,

that lord of Castamere

And now the Reynes weep o’er his halls

With no one
there to hear.”

And the melody changed then, drifting off to simple sounds as Angelus said,
“It isn’t fair. Stannis needs a song that badass.”

“You mean a song about his epic loss at Blackwater?”


“Shut up.”


“I do agree, though,”
Maya said. “It isn’t fair the Lannisters have the best song. Khaleesi deserves some songs.”

The melody became recognizable again, though it would not be to many. Angelus’s love of a song in a the Hunger Games had caused Maya to try and make music for it, though at the time she only had the violin, she had humored ways of transitioning it to the piano, where it would sound fuller.


click

“Deep in the meadow, under the willow
A bed of grass, a soft green pillow
Lay down your head and close your sleepy eyes
And when again they open the sun will rise.”


Angelus had told her the story, a young girl was dying and another was trying to comfort her in her final moments. She bet Angelus had cried reading it, but he wouldn’t confess. He was in love with that series, in the same way he had come to love 1984 and so many other novels with rebels, ever since they’d moved to Bristol. It was natural, really. He had always been rebellious.

And he’d always had a soft heart.


“Here it’s safe and here it’s warm
Here the daisies guard you from all harm….”


~***~

Winter had come to London, and Angelus had spent hours out in the snow, outside the apartment. The cat cried up at him for warmth earlier, so he’d removed his coat so the cat would have a dry place to lay itself as he toiled away carving out his monument in the snow. Juls was away, working on the party.
‘With Jack.’ So probably not getting much done.

It was Jasmine who swung by with hot chocolate when he texted her, but she stopped her approach in awe as she saw the almost-finished product.
“Damn, Angelus. When did you become a sculptor?”

“When I wanted to be,”
he answered. It just took obsession and restarting, and adding more snow when he messed up. The image was clear in his head. He just had to force his hands to do what he wanted. He stepped away from the monument to take a cup from Jasmine. “How are things going?”

She shrugged, sipped her own cup,
“In what area?”

“Ocean.”
Torchwood wasn’t making much progress.

Jasmine shook her head.

Angelus groaned.
“We should just get out there ourselves.” He’d been hindered by Jack’s orders on him. He didn’t want Angelus doing his own investigations right then.

Jasmine shook her head.
“Don’t worry about it. They’ve only done one thing.”

“Two. Victorian era.”
He reminded. “Maybe more we don’t know of.”

“They’re not our biggest concern right now.”


“They killed Sarah and trapped an alien species against its will. They were using those cameras to gather information and might still be,” Angelus had gotten to look at the blueprints and had come to understand the device.

“You know there’s more to worry about,” Jasmine noted. There had been issues with more obvious and less subtle alien species.

He shook his head,
“No, I don’t.” The things hidden were always more dangerous. “I guess there’s no point, though. We’re just employees,” so he smiled, “Wanna help me finish?” He motioned to his chair.

Jasmine shook her head.
“No, but I’ll keep you company,” and keep the poor, shivering cat warm. She walked over to the black thing and scooped it out of Angelus’s coat, held it closer to herself. It inched closer to steal her warmth. “Name her yet?”

“Nope,” he set his hot chocolate down in the snow, clearing a hole for it, and went back to his chair. He continued sculpting, “One day, she’ll tell me.” If it was a she. He didn’t know. It might be a neutered male.

As he worked on it, Jasmine asked,
"So, who are this year's targets for the mistletoe?" She was quite certain she wasn't on the list.

Angelus smirked,
"You know I'm not telling."

"If I guess will you tell me?"
She had some ideas.

He thought of it.
"Mm...yes."

"The Master?"


Angelus laughed that such was her first guess. He supposed it was obvious. Hopefully it wouldn't be so obvious to Maya.
"Yeah. Him."

"Ok...then Jack, too."

He looked over his shoulder. Well, he had complained of Jack, hadn't he?
"Yes," he agreed.

Fortunately, her other guesses were off the mark completely.

Soon enough, the Snow Throne was done, and Angelus clapped his hands together. When he picked up his hot chocolate, it was cold. He drank anyway.
“This is what you Starks need.” He told Jasmine, who rolled her eyes.

“No thanks.”


Angelus walked to his coat and pulled out his phone, offered it to Jasmine.
“Take a picture! The others need to see this!” Juls and Andrew would soon enough, but it didn’t matter. They had to see. Angelus immediately went to take his seat in it as Jasmine figured out how to get the camera. She pointed it, clicked, and then held it out to Angelus who quickly sent it out as a mass-text.

The Iron Throne is mine

~***~

It was just after Neo-Tokyo when the phone rang with its music of a text message. Maya pushed the book she had started to pick out from the library for that evening’s reading to check it. Maya took it out of her pocket and flicked to the message, expecting to see ‘or nah’ again and bracing herself.

Instead, she saw Angelus sitting in a snow version of the Iron Throne.
‘Damn you.’ She was going to have to steal that when she returned for Christmas.

For now. I’ll cross the
narrow sea soon enough.
Christmas.

Was the immediate response. Somehow this would have to end in a snowball fight. She’d have to convince the Master to join her side for this, but later, later. She needed to sleep, and then needed to write up an e-mail. The Master had another place in mind to go to tomorrow, but he wouldn’t tell her.

Unfortunately, Christmas wouldn’t end in something as simple as a snowball fight for ownership of a snow throne.


I know you still
don't have dragons.

Maya cursed the sender and put the phone away, took a different book off the shelf and went back towards her room.

« Last Edit: November 17, 2014, 02:40:03 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #46 on: November 17, 2014, 12:29:47 am »
Anticipation

Practice had ended for the day for costumes to be distributed at the end. Everyone was excited about them, as most of the actors there were in dramas. Of course, that was mostly what this Civic Theater did, so this was a treat—racy costumes and hilarity.

Devlin was even amused, until he saw the horror of his shoes.


“Noooo, no way, no.”


Maya continued to hold the shoes up by their straps, a wicked grin on her face,
“Come on, do you know how long I had to search for these?” It had been quite the task, “You promised me.”

“I didn’t think they existed!”
He cried out.

“Drag queens, dear,”
she reminded him, and extended the shoes towards him.

They were five inch stilettos, made wide enough for a man’s foot, and also long enough.
“Come on, Doctor.” He was always playing doctors. Doctor Faustus, Doctor Frank-n-Furter—it was amusing. “Put on the heels. I’m dying of antici….” Left off for a reason.

He knew it,
“Whatever you say, Mistress.”

“You disappoint me.”
Wrong word.

And they laughed at the childishness of what it should have been, a rarity since they were usually in the dramas.
“God, I can’t believe I’m doing this.”

“I’ll teach you how to walk, don’t worry.”
She was in heels all the time, anyway. “Oh, and don’t forget these,” she held out a bag then. These would be met with much less protest, she knew.

Devlin look the bag, then howled with laughter as he saw the garters, and other lingerie-esque items.
“How do you know my sizes?”

Maya shrugged. The real answer was she asked costuming, and then begged them to let her make his costume. They had agreed.
“Holy hell, Maya,” and then he looked at her, “Well, I guess I know that Aeron’s never displeased,” her face went scarlet, “you must know where to get all the toys if you know to find these lacy things.”

“Go get dressed!”


“Does he dress up?”
Redder and redder. This was not a thought she'd ever humored. “Heels? Is that how you knew?” He considered her red cheeks confirmation, and he laughed at the thought. “Oh my god, I want to see this.”

“Dressed! Or I’ll make you wear the heels at our next competition, and a dress!”


“Yes, Mistress.” He’d been certain the relationship worked the other way around. Now he was so intrigued. ‘Well, a man likes to lose control now and then.’ He thought as he moved into the dressing room to change. He heard Maya let out a breath, and he almost laughed again. Instead, he got changed as expected. “How do women even wear this stuff?” Not just the heels, though that was a mystery. The garters, the stockings, the really tightly laced bodice-top.

He survived the horror by simply imagining Aeron and cracking up constantly at the thought of that dignified man in such things. He really hoped it was true.

When he stepped out, Maya was in full Colombia costume. She had wanted to be Colombia for the costumes, more than anything, though she could have been Janet.
“Hello, Doctor,” there was a sing-song quality, a once over and a purposeful lingering below the waist before looking to his eyes. “You’re standing.”

“Bout…all I can do.”


Maya laughed and walked over to him, took him by both of his hands and walked backwards to encourage him forward. He held tight to her hands and tried to walk forward.
“One foot in front of the other,” Maya reminded. “Heel to toe, not toe to heel,” and he tried. He did. Slow and steady, following after Maya. “Straighten your back. Balance is at your core.”

“Maya….” He was shaking.

“Slow.”
But he staggered forward, which pushed her backwards. His hands gripped hers in a vice.

Her back hit the floor as he fell and his weight pushed her down. Devlin’s hands released hers as he saw the flor himself and he managed to use them to brace himself so he didn’t fall atop her and crush her. He took a deep breath as Maya let one out in relief,
“We’ll practice,” she murmured, “maybe with shorter heels.”

“Nah,” he whispered, “I can learn by trial by fire.” He straightened himself up and stepped back, wobbling. Maya rose and, again, took his hands. He moved one to her shoulder, though, for the familiarity of it. “Let’s try again.”

And they did, fumbling and falling through the steps, and joking all the while. Maya had to wait for Aeron, and somehow it slipped her mind that she should be both dressed properly, and not with a scantily dressed Devlin while waiting for him.

So, of course, Aeron entered the theater when Maya wasn’t outside, and walked in to the stage room to find Maya’s back against a wall and Devlin with one hand tight around Maya’s, the other placed firm at the side of her head. Devlin’s head was bowed, their faces close. They both looked Aeron’s way as he nearly dropped his keys.


“Aeron!” Devlin greeted with some enthusiasm as he pushed off the wall, not realizing how pale Maya had become.

She could see the rage boiling below the surface of that calm façade.
“Shoot, is it that late already? Sorry,” he apologized, “Gotta practice in heels for my role. Maya was just teaching me.”

It sounded like an excuse, but he gave a curt nod anyway as Maya pushed away from the wall.
“I’ll be in the car, Maya. Don’t take long.” He told her, and then promptly left the room. 

"I wear it better, don't I?"
Devlin asked as soon as the door shut. "He's jelly."
« Last Edit: November 17, 2014, 01:30:46 am by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #47 on: November 21, 2014, 02:49:08 am »
Money, Pleasure, Power

“What brought you to the UK?”

It was a simple question, and Setsuna had his usual half-truths in mind, on the edge of his tongue. However, those were not what spilled from his lips.
“My father and grandfather wanted me here,” he told Aeron. He should have stopped there, but he couldn’t help himself. He trusted Aeron. He wanted to tell him everything, for he had a feeling that Aeron would accept it. Accept him, even. He couldn’t quite explain this feeling. Setsuna had never felt this way towards anyone, not even the girl he had left behind in Japan, nor any of his adolescent loves.

And so, he talked,
“We have our own version of UNIT in Japan and we’ve been keeping up on the world of the supernatural and unearthly, too.” Aeron’s eyebrow cocked at supernatural and so he elaborated, clarified, “That is, creatures like the fairies and silurians which are native to Earth, but not known by the vast majority of humans.” Aeron nodded, and so he continued, “I was a part of that for a little while, but my father wanted stronger connections to the United Kingdom and other European nations, so he asked me to join UNIT. I applied, and was of course successful,” a wicked little smile, “My family owns half of Japan, at least.”

Both of Aeron’s eyebrows lifted, as if impressed. Setsuna nodded.
“It’s always been this way. You never hear of the Mori, though, because we were never warlords. You hear instead of the Tokugawa, or Nobunaga. We bested them in the end through money and contacts. Mori Takachika was the leading figure of that.”

Aeron had never heard of them, true enough, but he nodded anyway. He had a name to glance at, and a family history to follow.
“It was through money and mercantile means. You won’t see all that much in history.” They were good at laying low and going unnoticed. Aeron nodded in understanding, “So we’re continuing that, but trading in information as well as money and goods. Ever since World War 2, though, it’s been difficult, but enough time has passed that we can start being active again. We didn’t participate in it, after all.” The world was coming to forgive Japan for what they had done in siding with Germany. The Mori and their district were inactive in combat. They knew aligning with Germany was stupid.

“So, your goal is world domination?”
Admirable.

Setsuna laughed, as if embarrassed,
“Well, isn’t that everyone’s?” But he shook his head, “Not in my lifetime. I’m just another piece in the machine.” He knew his role, though, and he didn’t mind playing it. It was fun. He got to see the world, and beyond. He was learning and exploring, and he knew his family would revere him in centuries ahead.

“Few have the means,”
Aeron noted, “I’m impressed, if what you say is true, then you have a family that can organize and plan for centuries. It is a useful talent that few individuals, let alone families, have. My own had it. I come from a long line of lawyers and publishers. We enjoy bending history to our whim, as well,” he didn’t smile. He just sipped his wine.

“What happened?” It seemed appropriate to ask.

“A story for another time,” Aeron answered instead. He glanced over towards his companion, Arthur, who was talking to another across the bar. “What do you do in UNIT? And, what did you do in Japan?”

Again, the words were just pulled from him, a natural flow of information given over to Aeron.
“Well, in Japan, I was one of the experts on extraterrestrial life. I was a field agent more than anything though, and a diplomat usually, a soldier secondarily. More than aliens, I was called on to investigate extraterrestrial disturbances or technologies, like when those rifts in space-time began appearing worldwide a couple years back,” he smiled, “I gained a decent bit of knowledge in all areas, but I’m more into the field work. Here,” he sounded a touch annoyed, “They have me as a simple translator and occasional diplomat. I haven’t gotten an opportunity to show them why I should be placed elsewhere. They have my history,” that was supposed to be enough, but he was valuable because he spoke Japanese, and so he remained near the desk. “Now and then though, they let me leave my office to deal with aliens I have a history with and they don’t.” A sigh escaped him, though.

Setsuna wanted to be in the field,
“It is a shame they won’t give you that chance here. Perhaps that can be fixed.” Aeron could sense as much.

Setsuna arched a brow,
“How? I don’t mean to offend, but you aren’t exactly high up in UNIT.”

“I’m not in UNIT at all,” he reminded, shrugged, “but I am good at what I do.” There was no modesty at all. “Perhaps I can teach you, one day.”

Aeron still thought himself good at spotting potential. He would never think he was off the mark with Maya, there had just been too much interference. She could have been perfect—it was a shame she chose otherwise.

Setsuna could become his perfect ally, though. He’d be indebted to him, and not Arthur, too, since Arthur didn’t want to infiltrate UNIT too highly. Aeron would go right to the top through his pawns. Setsuna would be step one. He had decided it from Setsuna’s nostalgic talk. There was ambition here.

He could use that.
“I’m afraid I must call it a night, though.” He rose, and Setsuna mirrored him.

“Ah, I could take you home? Your friend does not look ready to leave.”

That was when Arthur looked away from his conversational partner of the night. Aeron could feel his gaze. Aeron had arrived with Arthur, in his car, and so Arthur moved and walked over,
“Are you ready to leave?” He inquired.

“You don’t have to—”
a look from Arthur shut Setsuna up. Aeron had noticed that what Arthur referred to as ‘entrancing’ had two effects, though Arthur himself didn’t seem to notice. The typical was ‘honey’, causing and inspiring devotion and love. The second, which he had just inflicted on Setsuna, was vinegar. Repulsion. It was how entrancement backfired, when one’s own emotions prevented devotion from being inspired, it created the opposite.

Aeron gave Arthur a smile,
“It is quite all right, Setsuna. I’ll wait outside for you to finish your conversation, Arthur.”

He wanted Setsuna’s following action,
“I’ll join you.” And his grin became wicked, revealing plainly his plans. Arthur couldn’t find the words to protest as Aeron accepted Setsuna’s following with a nod, and the pair walked outside. Aeron knew he’d get a lecture, later.

It mattered not to him. Out they went, and Aeron walked around, claiming he needed a cigarette and didn’t want to light up in front of the door. Setsuna followed,
“I didn’t think you—” and then he was shoved against the wall. A gasp, and then a sharp intake. Aeron’s fangs pierced Setsuna’s neck.

He had no intention of turning him, not then, but he did intend to wrap Setsuna around his finger. To anyone on the outside, it seemed an odd method, but Aeron had ensnared many with a mix of enthrallment and bites. The bite was pleasurable, and he could feel Setsuna relaxing. He arched his neck, and his hand went to Aeron’s head, fingers entangling in his hair. A moan was bitten back. The nature of the bite was one reason Aeron usually preferred female victims—this was just awkward. However, he ignored that.

Setsuna would become addicted to him, to the pleasure and joy he could give him.

He took only enough to satisfy his gnawing hunger, and then pulled away. He licked the puncture marks and watched as they healed almost instantly. Setsuna was surprised, out of breath.
“Wh-wha-what? You’re—”

“A vampire. Yes,”
Aeron agreed and leaned back against the brick wall, smirking at Setsuna, “Quite controlled, as you can see. My apologies for not warning you. I was quite hungry.” He wasn’t. He needed Setsuna to believe that he was controlled, though, even under stress, in desperation.

“I don’t mind,” was Setsuna’s response. He lifted a hand to his neck, brushed by the wound. No blood. No marks. He looked surprised.

“Can’t have everyone knowing, can I? I hope you can keep a secret….”


Setsuna wouldn’t have told if his life depended on it.

Arthur did eventually snatch Aeron from Setsuna, and he did lecture him. The weeks after, Aeron cracked up over how clingy Setsuna had become, much to Arthur’s irritation. When the threat was presented—that Setsuna had to be turned or killed because of his erratic, desperate behavior, Aeron turned him.

Arthur was not pleased.

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #48 on: November 21, 2014, 03:35:25 am »
Be My Escape

There were many things on Devlin’s mind as he walked into the theater that day. His car was breaking down, his poor blue Buick, Sapphire. His father grew more and more intolerable every day, never supporting what Devlin did.


‘Dance is for gays.’


Devlin shook his head to shake it off, but it didn’t vanish.
‘What’s with that costume? Do you need to sparkle that fucking much?’

He swallowed it down as he walked across the floor, towards the room where he was supposed to meet Maya. His heart wasn’t in it, though.
‘How can I tell her?’ He liked Maya, he saw her plenty, but they were always in roles. He wasn’t sure Maya knew who he was, and at times, he wasn’t sure he knew who Maya was.

He knew how her body moved.

He knew how her mind worked.

But he’d be damned if he knew much else.
‘Well, I am damned.’ He smiled, and then it faded, thinking of the role of Faustus and Mephistopeles.

‘You’re going to hell.’
His father had told him that plenty, too. No matter how he tried to tell his father he wasn’t, in fact, gay, he wouldn’t hear it. He was too effeminate. He was too open and emotional—not manly enough.

And his mother…she wasn’t much better. He had seen her that day before coming over. His parents were divorced, and he lived with her. He told her about his schedule and when to expect him back. The look she’d given him was dead.
‘That’s fine, dear.’ Because everything was fine by her, now. She no longer cared. She thought him a failure, too, because he wanted to be in the arts—dance. He heard her talking on the phone about it. She blamed herself for the divorce.

He pushed open the wooden doors, without his usual flourish,
“Maya,” he started when he saw her, but paused the moment their eyes linked.

‘—can’t do this today, I want to go get drinks and I want to talk this out with someone, hell maybe Kyle, do you have his number? Let’s both just go out with Kyle this once, and let’s get to know each other, and let’s—’


Every word died on his lips. He felt the surge of energy when he saw her own downtrodden expression. He should have asked her what was wrong, but he had seen a light spark in her eyes, too.

Hope.

He wouldn’t articulate it then, would never quite articulate it because it was something instantaneous that happened when they were together.
“I got some ideas for the song.” Reality melted away for the two of them, and they created it anew.

If only for an hour, they lived in a world without problems, and neither of them were willing to sacrifice that world for one that was real.


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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #49 on: November 24, 2014, 03:32:30 am »
The Devil Is A Woman, part I

Jasmine turned the key in the car to shut it off. “Ready?” A simple question, but they both knew the answer was ‘no’. The truth didn’t matter. Maya pushed open her door without a word after unbuckling herself, and stepped out. Jasmine followed suit. Maya unlocked the door to the house, and the traveled to the room she shared with Aeron. Jasmine joined her seconds later with two luggage cases, and they began to pack them with clothes, with bathroom supplies, sheet music, books, and anything Maya pointed out. The two weren’t enough, so other bags were utilized in lieu of them.

Angelus and Andrew were not with them, because Maya had sent Angelus to their mother’s house.

It was all moving faster than Maya could think.
“I think that’s all I can take this run.” Jasmine noted.

It was a lull in motion that disturbed Maya. She looked to Jasmine.
“There’s still a few more things, isn’t there?”

“Just a few,” Maya said, though she chanced a glance to the piano. There was no way they were getting that out of the home. Angelus might think he could find a way, but Maya wouldn’t run that risk. There was no time. Aeron would be home soon, and she hadn’t told him anything.

Her eyes skimmed over other objects—the cups she liked, the pictures and plants, all the things that had come to make the house feel comfortable even when it wasn’t. The furniture, some of it hers, that would have to stay. The shelves. Several other books. Other pieces of clothing.

Her arms moved up, wrapped around herself, and Jasmine walked over to her and pulled her into a tight hug before the thought of all she was leaving could overwhelm her. She wanted to cry out to stop this, that she’d changed her mind and she’d stay, but Jasmine stilled the words.
“It’s gonna be all right, hun.”

Maya wanted to say that she knew that, but she didn’t. So, she just nodded, a movement Jasmine felt.
“Ok, let’s get your things to my apartment, and come back.” A shake of the head. Jasmine pulled away. “Why?”

“I…there are a few more things. I’ll gather them up. By the time you get back, we can just put them in your car and be off.”


Jasmine was wary,
“I don’t want you here alone with him.”

“I’ll call you.”


She’d heard that a thousand times. She didn’t want to return to a murder scene.
“Please, Jas.” Maya was the worst sometimes. She could throw on the best puppy dog eyes, the best look of desolation and hope, so Jasmine sighed.

“Ok. Call me if you so much as hear his car.”
And with that, Jasmine turned to leave Maya to gather the rest of the things.

Maya didn’t move from the spot until the door was shut. She didn’t go to lock it, but moved to other rooms. In truth, she didn’t know what it was she really needed or really wanted, but she had to go through the place on her own, one last time, to see.

The only room that had nothing in it of hers, Aeron’s office, was the room she paused in.
‘I loved you.’ It had been in the past tense for longer than she’d admit. She twirled a pen between her fingers, with his name emblazoned on it. It caused her to smile, and then, to laugh. “I remember when….” But she couldn’t complete it aloud. It was too painful to remember that things had ever been good.

Even so, the memories started to play, to question her decision to leave.

It was a happy memory, one years back. She remembered when he got his first set of pens, his first set of business cards.


“Now I’m really someone.” Aeron joked as they sat outside the café which had become a home of many other memories, each with their tea before them. They met here, because it was close, between the university and his job, so they could meet up for lunch.

“You were someone before that,”
Maya returned, “otherwise I wouldn’t waste my time on you.”

Oh, but they had only been there a couple of weeks before. Maya had set it up, when Aeron only had his apartment to live in and he was all but pulling his hair out from stress.


There was a piano in the café. It was used mostly by music students, though now and then they’d have a show. Maya knew it would be rude to hog it, but she’d deal with it later. That day, she played all the songs Aeron liked best, as he sat and he studied for his last tests, for his stupid piece of paper that would get him the job he had lined up. It was a little thing she could do for him, since he so loved the music, and preferred it live.

And he kept sending her over teas. They were there for hours, without speaking to each other until the place closed and they both went their separate ways.

Maya set the pen down. She would not take it with her.

Aeron was not that man any longer. Perhaps he never truly had been. Sometimes, she wondered if it had all been a plot from the start. He seemed the calculating sort, clever and resourceful. She didn’t want to believe that he had intentionally manipulated her emotions, broken her self-esteem, so that she would depend on him. She wanted to imagine that Aeron just needed help, counselling, to see what he’d done.
‘So that you don’t do it again to someone else.’

Maya knew she ought to charge him.

It was pointless, though. Pointless. She'd lose.

She walked out, walked down the stairs and into the lounge. Her fingers ran over the white keys of the piano, looked over the furniture, and she shook her head. They had kept Aeron’s couch from the apartment. It was a wonderful couch, of course, leather and comfortable as sin.


“Stop!”

A sigh parted her lips. A couch that hold had plenty of memories. She wanted to burn it immediately.


Maya’s hands were open and pressed against Aeron’s chest, bare and warm. He loomed over her, surprised by the word that had come out so forcefully. His hand removed itself from her inner thigh and he sat up, moved himself up and off her.

Maya also sat up, smoothed her skirt back over her legs and crossed her arms over her lap, not bothering to button her shirt back up. Her skin was flush, and for some seconds they remained in silence as Maya tried to find the words to explain she hadn’t meant it quite like that. She had sounded too harsh, she knew.
“Aeron, I….” She bit down on her lip, averted her eyes, almost ashamed to admit it, “I’ve never…no one’s ever….” There had been no time for dating, and she’d never fooled around.

And her mother hadn’t exactly encouraged the conversation so Maya would understand anything, except that she wasn’t supposed to have sex because she was a woman. Her brother seemed to get a different message—or it was her parent’s apathy towards him. She was never certain.
“I’ve never had sex.” It came too fast, and her cheeks warmed even more. It seemed everyone her age had, she figured it was the expected norm.

She didn’t look up to see Aeron’s expression. Couldn’t. She heard him exhale, heavy,
“Okay,” and then she saw him get up and walk into his kitchen. Two glass cups were fetched, and filled with water. He returned, set one on the coffee table near Maya. He drank a bit from his before saying, “Do you want to?” Was his question.

Maya wasn’t sure. She figured uncertainty meant ‘no’, and so shook her head.
“It isn’t that I don’t—” Finger to lips. His smile was strained.

“I will wait.”
Though he couldn’t hide the fact he wasn’t happy about it.

Maya was pleased they had at least gotten rid of the bed where they had consummated their relationship.
‘I wonder if you did wait.’ Maya had plenty of questions about how long Aeron’s dalliances with other women were going on. She suspected she was lucky not to have any diseases. Well, lucky, and demanding that Aeron always keep himself covered. She was not risking children while in school.

Perhaps she should have brought Angelus. She could point to things and he’d burn them without question.


‘Where did it all go wrong?’ Maya wondered, finding herself slinking into that couch. She had nothing to pack, and nothing more to take. She could have left and told Jasmine her new coordinates, but there was something still not solved, not fixed, not right.

‘This wasn’t how it was supposed to be.’


Maya shut her eyes. She could see him, the young lawyer, ambitious and understanding, competitive and alluring. The world was in his hand, and yet, he had laid eyes on her. He had noticed her, and he had made her feel so special, once. She remembered the way he used to show her off and complement her.


“What don’t you do?”

“Paint,” Maya answered as she stirred the sugar in her tea. “Unless you count paintball.”

“Paintball?”
Bewildered. “You play paintball?”

“Yes. Good stress reliever. You should try it sometime.”
But Aeron shook his head, as if the idea absurd. “My brother is the team leader.”

“He would be,” they had met only recently. They hadn’t got on well. “Well, do not get hurt. You’d be nothing without your magical hands, my virtousa,” his fingers had laced with hers then, as she set the spoon aside.

Maya had smiled and leaned across their table to kiss him, taking it for a complement to her skills with instruments.

No, she didn’t want the piano, she realized on opening her eyes. She wanted it to burn, and she wanted her violin to burn, and she wanted all the sheet music to burn.
‘This whole place. Everything.’ All the years of her life she’d wasted, she wanted them back. Not just the years with Aeron, but the years she hadn’t been out having fun like Angelus, the years she had spent creating someone who didn’t exist.

Maya laughed.

It was not sane, but the laughter of someone about to snap, as she realized she, truly was, the greatest illusion of all. None of her characters had been as false as she was. She, who didn’t know a single thing she liked, was Maya.

How aptly named.


“Like the goddess.”


Maya stood, still shaking with laughter, and started to walk, realizing there was nothing here that could ever answer her questions.

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #50 on: November 24, 2014, 03:33:29 am »
The Devil Is A Woman, part II

She heard a car door shut, and her back stiffened. ‘Jasmine?’ Maya couldn’t move her feet. She was only a few yards from the door when it opened, and in walked Aeron, who already didn’t look pleased.

“Told you so.”


Those were really not the best words, but they’d been on the tip of her tongue since that morning. Aeron rounded on her immediately, shutting the door and forgetting to lock it.
“Saxon,” she clarified.

That wasn’t what put Aeron in a foul mood.
“Never mind that,” he could care less. He hadn’t attached himself to Saxon, fortunately, even if he had voted for him. He wouldn’t suffer like poor Copper. “The neighbors called.”

‘Oh.’ Maya found her phone in her inside coat pocket. Jasmine had been the last one she’d called, so she didn’t look as her hand played with the buttons to call the last dialed number.

“They said a disturbing amount of items were being moved out of the house. I thought robbers, but….”
He trailed off, leaving his implication obvious, waiting for a confession.

Jasmine’s voice was muted in the coat pocket, but she answered. She would hear Aeron’s voice, and hang up immediately.
“I’m leaving.” Maya told him.

A laugh came first, amused, before he realized that no smile was coming to her lips. She was serious.
“What do you mean?”

“I’m leaving you.”
She clarified. “Our engagement is off.”

Confusion didn’t last. It couldn’t last. Anger came, and with it, the implied threats he was so good at delivering,
“What are you going to do without me?” He inquired. “You won’t get a job anywhere here in London, not even in fast food.”

“I’m leaving London.”
She answered that, too.

This confused him further. This was not the Maya he knew, not the woman who chased after dreams of stardom.
“You won’t get anywhere else but in London. You won’t be anyone without me.”

“That’s fine,” she couldn’t argue with him. She didn’t have the strength right then. “It’s too difficult,” she shook her head, “I loved you, Aeron, I did.” He could degrade her, but she could try to guilt him. “But I can’t pretend anymore. I’m not anyone, and I don’t want to be. I can’t be the someone you want me to be, and I’m not going to. So go ahead, tell everyone I’m unfit. I’m done.”

His words didn’t have their usual effect. Now, Aeron felt something like fear.
“You’re not leaving. You're just being silly, and angry. We can--” He had walked towards her, reached for her, but she stepped just out of his grasp when he did. Her eyes burned, dared him to try again.

Apparently, she needed to argue. The bottle that held the anger shattered.
“What does it matter to you?” Maya found herself demanding. “You never make time for me anymore. I’m nothing to your life, just a decoration,” she motioned out with one hand, towards a picture, “just like that. You can replace me just as easily. I’m nothing, right? Nothing without you, and nothing on my own, and so nothing to you!” Pitch rose. Anger and sorrow mingled. “So just let me go, Aeron! Neither of us are happy!”

He bit the inside of his cheek.
“Is that all it is? That I don’t make time for you anymore?” He thought he saw a route to salvage this. “I can’t make as much time as before. I’ve explained, my job—”

“Save your goddamn breath.” It was like a slap, and he recoiled, then glared. “I know you’re fucking the secretary. I know you have ample amounts of free time, and you choose to be elsewhere, then expect me to be here, waiting for you.” If this was to be the last time, then she wouldn’t hold back any more. “You told me that you would make time, Aeron,” she sounded longing, then, “That first time we met….” That night had been wonderful. “I thought you understood. Did you lie? Was it a lie then?”

He shook his head, but Maya spoke before he could,
“Oh don’t lie now, darling,” venom. “Let’s have honesty now. I know you didn’t make time for me, but you made time for Maria, for Radi, and for that fucking secretary….” She saw that the names had an effect. Aeron hadn’t been aware of her knowledge.

“It was never a lie,”
he insisted, “I didn’t realize how clingy you were, though.” He shot back. “I thought you had a life in your music, I thought we would both have our lives apart and be content in the parts we shared.”

“Oh, I had a life apart from you, until you started insisting I deny it. No, don’t go dancing with Devlin, don’t go to the civic theater, don’t go out with Jasmine, don’t play paintball—what was I supposed to do, Aeron? You were suffocating me!"


"You seemed to like that."


Maya ignored that, not wanting to get derailed and inform him she hadn't, in fact, enjoyed that, but pretended for his sake,
"I let you do as you pleased. I let you go out for drinks with your friends—”

“Those are necessary for my clients—”


“—BULLSHIT!”
Maya screamed. “IS FUCKING THE SECRETARY NECESSARY, TOO?! FOR GODDAMN MORALE?”

“WAS FUCKING DEVLIN? GETTING TO KNOW YOUR BODIES BETTER FOR DANCE?”


“WE NEVER—FOR GOD’S SAKE, YOU INSECURE PRICK!” Maya stamped her foot, frustrated with hearing that again. “FINE. I FUCKED HIM. HAPPY?” Done. So done. “AND HE’S BETTER THAN YOU!” Even when she felt the slap sting her face, Maya didn’t regret the lie. Maya wished it were truth, right then, so she could describe in lurid detail just how much better Devlin was to break down Aeron’s ego about his own prowess.

He looked vindicated of course.
“I knew it,” parted his lips, and Maya had never wanted to hit him more than in that moment.

It was an exasperation that ate at her rage quickly, though.
“You’re so goddamn insecure,” came with a laugh, and took Aeron out of his victorious thinking. “You need me.” Teasing, “And you know it, because you’re nothing without me,” she threw it back at him, words he’d always told her. “You would have never passed that test without me playing the piano, and now,” a wicked grin, “your whole world is going to fall apart, isn’t it? I don’t have to do a thing but leave…and people are going to question why. And you’ll be looked at differently, with suspicion.” His built up image was going to shatter. She just realized it.

She won, just by leaving.

It seemed he realized it, too. There would be plenty of questions. He reached for her again, but she again managed to evade him.
“I wouldn’t touch me, Aeron, if I were you. I can do more than just leave.” She didn’t say what. She wouldn’t. Not in details, anyway, “I can tear your life apart, if you don’t let me walk out that door.”

“Maya, we can fix this,”
there was an urgency now. “We can talk this out. We can see a counselor. I’ll change.”

“You’d say anything. It’s too late, anyway. I told Angelus.”
It was a threat. He couldn’t keep her here, even if she agreed to stay, now. Angelus would know she was being coerced or threatened to stay.

The sound of another car pulling up was all Maya needed to hear. Aeron looked over his shoulder towards the door, and might have gone to lock it, but Maya moved. Torn between the two options, he grabbed Maya’s arm and pulled her right back, shoved her against the wall.
“Try to walk out that door and I’ll break every single finger.” He held her hand above her head, a last resort. Maya hid her surprise at the threat. That one was new...more vicious than usual. He really was desperate. “Tell whoever it is to leave, that we’re going to work it out.”

He let her go before Jasmine got to the door and opened it.
“He said he was going to break my fingers if I left,” were the first words out of Maya’s mouth. Aeron’s utter surprise was priceless. He just wasn’t getting the message that he had no power. Not anymore.

“I—I didn’t. She's lying.”


“Save it.”
Jasmine told him. She crossed the room to where Maya was and calmly took her hand. “You ever come anywhere near her again, and I swear to god you’ll regret it.”

Aeron never liked Jasmine. She had a strength to her that refused to be shaken, and even he felt a touch intimidated by the look she gave him, paired with her words. As Maya was led out of his life, he called,
“You’d be just a café singer without me, virtuousa!” Maya didn’t look back.

The words hurt, but Maya wouldn't let him know.
"What discerning tastes you have, then!" She shouted back, but didn't look back. Maya lifted one hand, and waved, before she got into the car. With the doors shut, she told Jasmine, “Go to my bank.”

“Maya….”


“Go.” Maya had warned Aeron not to touch her. “Then we’re going to his law firm. I have a secretary to talk to, and numbers to get.”

Jasmine wanted to advise against it, but she drove to the bank, and followed Maya inside as she wove a story to the bank teller about how she and Aeron were building on additions to the house since they were soon to start a family together. She laid it on so thick, that Jasmine couldn’t believe the bank teller actually gave Maya all the money in the savings and checking account.

Then again, Maya had as much access to it as Aeron, and no one was going to deny Aeron if he wanted to withdraw so much, so no one denied Maya. His name had weight, for the moment.


“What are you going to do with that?”
Jasmine was still a bit in shock of how much it was. It was over six figures.

“Anonymous donations to various charities. He won’t be able to trace it this way.”


“You’re….”
But she just shook her head rather than finish it. Maya was asking for trouble by stealing all that money from Aeron, but Jasmine still wanted to see it happen. True to her word, Maya didn’t keep a single cent.

At Aeron’s law firm, she also played nice, quite certain Aeron hadn’t chosen to reveal what was going on so quickly. She managed to talk the blonde secretary outside, and with Jasmine nearby, learned that the woman had been threatened with job loss if she didn’t comply to Aeron’s demands. Maya was given over the numbers of Radi and Maria, among others. The secretary agreed that if, were she not the only one Aeron had played that game with, she would file charges of sexual harassment against him. Perhaps even rape, considering the circumstances.

She would not be the only one, either.
« Last Edit: November 24, 2014, 08:27:15 pm by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #51 on: November 25, 2014, 07:26:25 am »
Worthy

They sat in the diner for what Maya assumed would be the last time. She sat near the window, besides Angelus. She barely found her voice to order water, and couldn’t find the words to order breakfast. Nothing was appetizing. Her mind was running circles around her.


‘I won’t serve.’


Again and again, at every question she posed, it repeated itself with the same ferocity. It wouldn’t relent or be silent, it plagued Maya and left her silent.

There was only one decision to make, but it terrified her.


“So,”
Angelus said at last, “Why aren’t you happy?”

“Who could be happy with the President dead?”
Andrew asked.

“Maya, because she likes being right,”
Jasmine noted. She crossed her arms over the table and leaned forward. “You didn’t order anything. What’s wrong, hun?”

Maya’s eyes were on the menu.
“Do they serve dessert this early?” She thought to ask then.

Jasmine gave a nod,
“They serve everything. What do you want? I’ll go tell the waitress.”

“After,” Maya said. A bribe of sorts. “Hot fudge sundae. Or something with mint.”

“After what?” Andrew asked.

“I…I have to tell you something before it’s too late.”
Her eyes averted to her lap, to the ring that was on her finger. Calmly, she slipped it off and set it in the center of the table, to remove its influence, its feeling, if only for a moment. “I don’t know why now, but my mind won’t shut up.” There was no understanding this, there was no logic as to why now, but it was there, beating a constant rhythm and demanding action.

She couldn’t resist forever.
“I don’t want this anymore,” she said, and then she looked up, first to Andrew, “I’m sorry. I’ve lied to you,” to Jasmine. She couldn’t find the words for her, for the unending compassion she had always shown, and for the encouraging look right then. For the forgiveness that was so immediate.

And so she met Angelus’s eyes, his suspicion and his fear shining through.
“I want to leave.”

“Aeron?”


“London.” Much more than Aeron, she wanted to escape it all, “Everything. I want to go and be done with all of this.”

“What?” Andrew was now quite concerned. “Maya, why? You’re about to join the Royal Shakespeare—”

“That’s why now!” As if that suddenly made sense of the voice. “If I join…I’ll never escape. I can’t do that. I can’t stay here. I just don’t have a car, and I don’t know where to go, and so I’ll need your help. It’s a big thing to ask, but—”

“Why?”

Cold and cutting through the rambling. Maya winced and glanced down. Of course she had to say.
“My…Aeron has been…for the past couple of years, Aeron has been abusing me.” She could feel Angelus tensing, but she continued, "He's threatened me to keep me away from all of you. He hates all of you," of course he did, "He's cheated on me, justifies it by saying I've cheated on him. I haven't." Though she'd wanted to, so many times, just to hurt him. "He's been keeping me from you, Ange. He's been having me make up stories for why I can't see you. I know you suspected it...." he had suspected much, but Maya always lied. "I'm sorry...." Sorry wasn't good enough.

Angelus took a breath. He exhaled.
“Son of a bitch!” Angelus started to move immediately, to leave the booth and make his destination wherever Aeron was. Maya grabbed the fabric of his jacket, and Jasmine reached out a hand to his shoulder, pressing him down. He growled through clenched teeth. “Why didn’t you tell me sooner?” Angelus demanded.

“I…I thought this was what I wanted. Or what was necessary.”
She felt small, ridiculously so. She could feel Angelus’s glare without looking up. “Mom said it was necessary. I...I wouldn't get anywhere without Aeron's assistance, so I needed to just...endure. Be what Aeron wanted.” Would that even be what Lina wanted? Maya didn't know.

The tension built.
“WHAT?” Angelus couldn’t help the shout.

“Shh!”
Jasmine hissed at him. “Up.” She told him, and Angelus stood. The two swapped places, and Jasmine came to sit by Maya while Angelus sat next to Andrew in all his rage. “Maya,” Jasmine spoke softly, gently. Maya didn’t need more wrath then. “We’ll talk about all of that later,” and they would. They would have a very long talk about Maya’s choices and the influences behind them, so Maya could begin the process of healing through understanding, but now was a time for action.

Not the sort of action Angelus wanted to take, though.
“I’ll help you move. I’ll go with you.” Maya looked up, clearly surprised, eyes wide. It hurt Jasmine to see that, as if Maya had expected to be cast out. “Silly,” she said and touched the top of Maya's head, “I’m freelance. I can live wherever.” The hand fell to Maya's shoulder. UNIT would deal with it. She’d travel as necessary. She was a translator, so a lot of her work could be done from home or over a radio. “I’m not going to leave you all alone.” That’d be terrible for Maya right then. “Right now, we need to come up with a plan of action for getting your things out of Aeron’s place.”

“He’s working now…or he should be.”


Jasmine nodded.
“Then we’ll get your things out while it is safe.”

Angelus spoke,
“What did he do to you, exactly?” Maya glanced towards him. “I want to return it in kind.”

“No.”


“If you think I’m going to let him get away with this, you’re fucking wrong. I’ll kill him.”


“No.”


“THE FUCK, JASMINE.”
Angelus slammed a fist on the table and rose, his full height looming over them, his rage burning. “He’ll do this to someone else. He’ll hunt her down.” Jasmine wished he hadn’t said that, for she could see Maya go white, as if she hadn’t considered that. Perhaps she hadn’t. “There isn’t any way we can do this legally. I don’t care about the consequences, let me—”

“Please don’t.”

Angelus took in a breath and looked down at Maya.
“Please come with me.” She said instead of answering his desires for revenge. “Help get my things from mom.”

“Why? Why spare him?”


“Because I love you more than I dislike him. I don’t want you to go away.” Jail or death, she didn’t want it. She wanted Angelus with her.

His hands loosened, but rather than answer her, he stormed away from the booth and out the door. He didn’t leave the area, though. He stood outside and leaned against the building.
“I’ll go to him,” Jasmine said, and she got up and walked out.

That left Andrew and Maya. He got up for a moment as well, but only to catch the waitress. Maya heard enough to understand he had ordered her dessert, before he slid back into the booth before her. He asked,
“Why?” But it was soft, and it was not accusing.

“It seemed right,” she returned and looked to the ring at the center. “Mom said it was, that the only way to get anywhere….”

“But you’re so much better than that.” When Maya looked up, she saw that Andrew’s eyes had watered, his confusion evident. “I’ve seen you. I’ve heard you. Why would you ever think that?” Maya wrapped her arms around herself.

‘Because you’re my friend and you have to say that, because I don’t believe you, or anyone else anymore, because I trusted Aeron and he told me I was no good, and my mother thought I wasn’t good enough without him.’
She shook, the words caught in her throat. ‘Because I’m not.’ The tears fell. “I don’t know,” was what she said instead. “I don’t know,” she repeated. “I just know I can’t do it anymore. I won’t.”

‘And I’m afraid.’


Now that it was said, there was no going back. Ange would never let her.

Andrew looked so sad, that it was almost too difficult to be upset for the pain it caused him. She’d never know that his mind had gone to questioning his parent’s beliefs, and how they, like Maya’s mother, would have been fine with this situation of domestic violence compared to…well, love of another form.
“It can’t be right,” he said, speaking to the present and the absent.

Angelus and Jasmine rejoined them, Jasmine pushing Angelus along. He sunk right back down into his seat just as the sundae was brought. No questions were asked.
“We’re going to Bristol,” Angelus announced. To Andrew, “We’ll come visit you, and we’ll—”

“I can come.” He actually seemed happy. Angelus looked confused. “There’s a university in Bristol tied to the one here. I can take classes out of there. I can come.”

“Don’t do that, Andrew!”
Maya said immediately. “I’m not—” the word was stilled by a look from Jasmine. ‘Worth it.’

Andrew gave a small smile,
"It's all right, I promise. It'll be nice to see a new place, too."

Angelus laughed, knowing what it would have been.
“I’m going to kill him.” He was speaking to Jasmine.

“No.”


“I am. I’m going to fucking kill him.”


“No, Angelus.”


“Just wait.”


Jasmine let out a flustered sound but decided not to engage Angelus anymore on that topic since he’d only keep reiterating what he would do. Maya spoke after a spoonful of ice cream.
“First get my things from mom. I don’t want to see her.”

Angelus considered that. Then, he nodded.
“Ok,” he could do that. “I have some words for her as it is. Andrew, you wanna come?”

Jasmine gave Andrew a look that he understood. He needed to go to keep Angelus out of trouble.
“Yeah,” he agreed. He didn’t want this job, but he’d take it. Jasmine needed to go with Maya. Of them all, Jasmine was the only one who could stand up to Aeron, and that would be necessary if Aeron returned home early.

“I’ll figure out arrangements in Bristol for the night.”


“We’re going so soon?”
Maya sounded surprised.

“Duh.”


“I have a show tonight,” Maya reminded.

“You can’t be—”


“It’s the last one.”


“It’s not a terrible drive,”
Jasmine noted, “We’ll get to Bristol before 2am.” Jasmine supported this idea. Angelus crossed his arms, but didn’t argue. Not verbally, anyway. “We’ll leave right after the show, and then figure out apartments and such. If we pull our savings, between all of us we should be able to find a place to stay.” Jasmine intended to get her own place. Andrew, she imagined, would end up shacking up with Maya and Angelus.

She’d share with Maya, but then it would become too obvious what she did for a living, and she couldn’t have that known yet.
“Maya,” Maya looked to her, “Thank you for telling us. I know that had to be hard.” She took Maya’s hand in hers, and closed her fingers around Maya’s palm. “And there’s a long, hard road ahead of you now,” because she knew that damage went deep if it had taken Maya so long to say anything, if she had been so afraid, “but I’m here. I’ll always be here.”

Maya’s smile was watery,
“I’m so glad I chased you down.” Jasmine laughed and nodded.

“So am I.”


She looked towards Andrew, Angelus,
“Thank you, too. Both of you. I….” she couldn’t say she wasn’t worthy, so she just bowed her head, “Thank you.” She didn’t have any other words, and not even these were good enough. She’d not realized how lucky she was until that moment, hadn’t realized that she actually mattered to others so much, until they threw their livelihoods on the line for hers.

‘Pathetic. I am so...’


It would take a long time to accept it.

They'd be in Bristol that night. It would take a little less than a week to find places to live, and then the great move of things from London would begin.

« Last Edit: November 26, 2014, 07:26:40 pm by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #52 on: November 26, 2014, 07:12:56 pm »
Restraint

Angelus stepped outside the theater before the play ended and immediately recognized Aeron’s vehicle. The man wasn’t inside the theater, but sitting in his car, and it looked like he hadn’t noticed Angelus, yet.

Angelus snatched his cell phone from his pocket.
“All right, Nokia, let’s prove why people think you’re the best,” and he hurled it right at the back window while continuing his approach. The glass shattered and rained all over the backseat. He saw Aeron jump, and then the man exited the vehicle and rounded on Angelus.

“What are you—”


Angelus put his hand in his pocket once again, and Aeron paused. He didn’t know what else Angelus had, but he was certain he didn’t trust Angelus.
“Leave.” Angelus didn’t have much more restraint than people imagined, but he did have some. It was taking all of it to keep his fist balled up and in his pocket.

He had known. He had fucking known Aeron would show up.

Aeron shook his head.
“Not until Maya and I talk.” And not even then, Angelus knew. Aeron reached for his phone, “And now at least you don’t have to be around. This little stunt will keep you in jail at least overnight.”

“Go ahead,” Angelus said coolly. “Call the police. I’ll wait until you’ve told them where you are. Ask for an ambulance.” Cocked head and a smirk. “Because I will make sure you physically cannot talk to Maya if I have to.”

Aeron wanted to call his bluff, he really did, but the truth was that Aeron didn’t think Angelus was bluffing at all. The kid already liked to hurt others in that damnable paintball game of his. As much pride as Aeron had in himself, he knew in a fight with Angelus, he’d lose. He could win in the law courts, but Angelus wasn’t worried about that, much as his sister hadn’t been concerned with it.


“She stole all of my money.”
He had found this out.

Angelus hadn’t been aware of that. Even so,
“I’d call it fair since you’re breathing.” Angelus motioned to Aeron’s car with his head, hands remaining in pockets. “Get out of here, Aeron. You can deal with things from behind your desk, with your stupid little named pen and your stupid little watermarked paper, or whatever the fuck.”

Aeron took a step back.
“This isn’t over.”

Angelus only smiled,
“Good.” He didn’t want it to be. Tonight, he’d behave, because Maya’s words still rang in his head, but in the future he would make no such guarantees. “Go on.”

Aeron stalked back to his vehicle and threw the door open, before slamming it behind him. Angelus watched, pleased he’d damaged it, as Aeron started it up. Angelus intended to watch until Aeron was gone.

Aeron threw the car in reverse, part to scare Angelus, part because he really wanted to run him over. Angelus managed to jump out of the way, though Aeron braked it before it ever would have hit him, and then he shifted it out of reverse and took off out of the civic theater lot.
“Asshole,” Angelus grumbled as he walked back into the theater.

He’d have to confess his crimes later, when it was learned he no longer had a phone. Then the restraining order showed up. No other charges followed, not even an order to pay for the window. Aeron’s descent was fast, and he was overwhelmed with problems—so his father advised he let it all lie. Wait.

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #53 on: November 27, 2014, 04:14:13 am »
Same Old Song

I think we got
everything but
you will want to
come check.


All right. Please
wait for me.


Maya sent the text back to Angelus and then looked to Jasmine,
“We need to swing by my mom’s house,” she told her. Jasmine didn’t even argue, but led Maya out from her apartment and to the car once again, to swing by a home she’d become quite familiar with in the years gone by. Andrew’s vehicle was still there, fortunately. Angelus hadn’t gone running off to chase revenge.

This time was different.

Maya had been different since leaving Aeron’s place. So, when Maya exited the car there was no fear. Her back was straight and her head was up. Each step was taken with a confidence that Jasmine knew was fragile—and she’d be right, when it shattered shortly after arriving in Bristol.

But, for the moment, Jasmine just smiled at what Maya could produce in a crisis. Had Jasmine never met her, she’d think Maya owned the world right then.

The door was unlocked, but Maya didn’t even check. She turned the knob and threw the door open to find Angelus and their parents arguing in the living room. It fell silent as Maya walked in.
“Maya, what is the meaning of this?” Her mother demanded immediately. Jasmine shut the door after entering, and walked over to stand where Andrew was, looking awkwardly over the situation.

Maya ignored her, except to walk around her as she tried to get in the way of Maya’s access to a room that still held some of her things.
“MAYA!” And the red-haired woman pursued Maya down the hall and into the room.

Jasmine glanced to Cyrus then, the only one who looked humbled and distraught right then. He was sitting on the couch, his head held in his hands.
“Should we go after her?” Andrew asked.

“No,” Jasmine was the one to answer, “Trust me, you don’t want to get in Maya’s way right now.”

Angelus arched an eyebrow at that.
“How’d Aeron’s go?”

“I’ll tell you later,”
she promised. “We’re done there, though.” Angelus nodded, then turned his head towards the hallway, not pursuing, either.

They still strained to listen to what was going on.

Maya sifted through items in the room, heedless of Lina in the doorway.
“Maya, tell me what is going on.” No answer escaped. Maya was using the silence to get Lina to say more. “Maya, Angelus told me you’re leaving Aeron. You’re leaving London.” She was looking for confirmation, but Maya only walked to another drawer and opened it to dig through its contents. “Why are you making such a stupid decision?”

It caused a smirk to jump to Maya’s lips, though she did her utmost to hide it. 


“Why are you throwing away all of our hard work?”


Maya walked to the closet, and almost laughed as she realized Angelus hadn’t grabbed any of her heels. Of course he wouldn’t.
‘Do I need any of these, though?’ She had taken plenty from her stock at Aeron’s, and these were left here because she didn’t wear them all that much. ‘No.’ She decided.

As she was closing the closet door, Lina snatched her wrist and pulled Maya around to face her.
“Answer me. Tell me why you’ve wasted all of my time, and why you’re just…just giving up.” She was furious. “You’re so close, Maya! Have you seen Aeron yet? If you haven’t—”

“You don’t believe in me at all, do you?”


It was spoken too softly for Angelus to ever hear. It was whispered, and it was so cold that Angelus wouldn’t have believed it came from Maya in the first place. It was not how one spoke to a mother.

The hesitation was enough of an answer for Maya, although her mother did find her voice before Maya could turn away.
“You need others to go anywhere, Maya. It is a universal truth. An infant needs a parent to learn to walk, a student needs a master, and you need Aeron for the connections.”

Maya wrenched her arm out of her mother’s grip.
“Where were your connections?” The question was asked calmly. “Your Aeron?”

Her mother looked taken aback, and started with the immediate,
“I was good—” and then realized the trap when Maya’s eyes narrowed. Rather than admit anything, she continued it, “I was good enough to be recognized for my merits, and lucky, Maya. Luck isn’t dependable.”

“How are we judging quality?” Maya dared to ask. She had never heard her mother when she was in her prime, of course. “Is it by awards? If so, I have more than you.” Her mother’s face was priceless, livid and shocked. “Is it by degree? If so, you never went to any university.”

Lina opened her mouth to talk, but Maya wouldn’t let her.
“Hush, now,” she told Lina, “I am done listening to your advice. I have seen Aeron already, and he needed me more than I needed him. His life is going to go straight to hell, because he lost me.” More than her, but the point would stand. “And you, too, need me more than I need you, mother.” Formalized, it would not make the jump to ‘Lina’ until after Maya left London. “I won’t play second string to you anymore”

“Maya, don’t be ridiculous. You could patch things up with Aeron.”


“Do you hear yourself, mother?”
Maya demanded, voice rising to be heard again by those outside the room. “Do you know Aeron threatened to break my fingers?” Angelus’s curse could be heard.

“He wouldn’t, not if you….” But Maya was shaking her head, so Lina tried another route, “Well what will you be without him? All you’ve ever done is the arts, and he’ll crush your future with his connections? Will you go be like your brother?”

“Maybe,” Maya said, “He’s happy.” What better reason?

Lina huffed,
“You won’t be happy like that. You’re too ambitious. You know what you’re throwing away. You’re going to regret it, and then you won’t have anyone to help you. No connections—not me.”

“GOOD!” Maya declared, “I don’t want the help of a washed up violin teacher who wasn’t willing to put in the work to become a good musician in the first place—I don’t want someone who gave up!” The horror in Lina’s eyes almost made Maya regret the words, but she didn’t.

She went on.
“I’m better than you,” a quiet declaration, “You know it, you’ve always known it. That wound was convenient, wasn’t it? It allowed you to end your career and earn sympathy and praise from people who played along with your twisted perception of being a great musician, to mourn what never could have been.” She was shaking, and Maya didn’t care if it was anger or sadness. “The truth was that you just couldn’t hack it, and you wouldn’t put in the work to recover, either. Better to give up, and live through someone else. That’s all I ever was to you, a continuation of this pity party, of what never could have been. You could applaud me while giving yourself all the credit, imagining it all came from you, and had circumstances been better for you, you’d be in my place—sans Aeron, of course. Oh, Aeron was fine when it was me he was hurting, but you never, never, would have tolerated it for yourself. Because you think you’d be better.”

Her smile was unkind.
“You’re not.”

Maya had never been so arrogant about her skill, but she wanted to be then. She wanted to be cruel, for her mother had made her into this, had dictated her life, and at long last, she was free. Free!

Lina’s pride was too hurt to be rational.
“Your degree was wasted time.”

Maya let out a short laugh at that.


“Time wasted on learning arts that you shouldn’t have. If I were truly trying to live through you, I never would have let you try dance or singing, or even acting.”
Lina told her, angry. “I never tried to live through you. I tried to support you in all that you did. I let you learn these other things, and directed you towards violin competitions that you could win to bolster your confidence. I supported you endlessly, and I only ever tried to help you! Aeron was a connection you needed, to get anywhere near as great as I could have been. He, at least, understood that dance and acting were ridiculous distractions! If you had listened to him, you know, he wouldn’t have abused you. He wouldn’t have cheated on you.”

Maya shook her head. She couldn’t believe her mother’s words.
“Was I ever anything to you, mother? Ever anything but a dream?”

“My daughter. You have always been my daughter, and I am trying to help you realize that you are making a mistake you are going to regret.” Lina tried, calming her voice, masking the hurt, “This is what you want,” she cooed, “You never protested before. You were never like Ange, this has always been your dream. Don’t do this to yourself, Maya. Don’t waste all of our work because you’re angry. Think it through.”

Maya did hesitate, did consider.
“I love you, Maya. I only want to see you succeed. We can fix all of this still. It isn’t too late. I know Aeron loves you. I know he believes in you, or he wouldn’t have put up with all of this for so long.”

“You’d be just a café singer without me, virtuousa!”

Maya shook her head.
“Yes he does. He isn’t the best at showing it, but he must.” Lina took her arm again, “Let’s go back out there and fix this, dear.”

She asked one last question.
“If I walk out that door, leave London, leave Aeron, am I still your daughter?”

‘Please love me regardless, please accept me, because I’m not going back to Aeron and I’m leaving, I’m leaving, but I—’

“No.” It came, without thought for the consequences, because Lina had already decided what the future was. She thought Maya and she were on the same page. “But that won’t—”

Maya pulled her arm out again, decided there was a pair of hooker boots she wanted so she snatched them, and turned away. She walked out the door of her room with just those. Lina followed immediately,
“Maya! Don’t do this!” Through the hallway, to the living room. Maya gave a single glance to Angelus, and he quickly moved to follow her to the door to leave. “This is your fault, isn’t it, Angelus?” Angelus winced but didn’t respond. His mother’s anger would cease.

Maya paused and whipped right back around.
“This is not Angelus’s fault! He’s your child, too.” Maya motioned to him. Angelus let his back move against the wall, clearly not wanting to be involved. He’d already said his piece.

“I know,”
Lina said, “But I know he’s always tried to lead you astray, because this path wasn’t for him. Jealous.” Angelus rolled his eyes. His mother was delusional. “If it isn’t him, then what?”

Maya swiped her hand. She was standing near a wooden cabinet that was near the door, and held photos and other bits of important things framed on top of it. With that swipe, they all fell, and they all shattered on the ground. Among them was her degree, and it gave Maya the answer,
“Wasted time, mother. That’s what. I only just realized it, a bit slower than Ange, but still…I realized it.”

Her mother didn’t dare advance. She wasn’t wearing shoes, and the glass was in her way.
“You should have realized it sooner.” Bitter. Angry. “If you go out that door, don’t return. You wasted enough of my time.”

“Don’t worry,” Maya gave her a grin, “I was never here anyway. I’m not real. Illusion, remember? I hope you enjoyed the dream.” Maya turned and pulled open the door, and all but skipped out. She wanted the last word, and refused to hear anything after that.

Angelus hesitated, but Maya heard him say,
“I’m sorry,” before following Maya out. Then Andrew and Jasmine, crushing the glass on their way, but sidestepping the images formerly kept within them. 

In the car with Jasmine, Maya maintained the façade of power, knowing she needed it for Beatrice. Pretending would make it real, the way a fake smile eventually brought about happiness. Such was the mantra.


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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #54 on: January 06, 2015, 09:10:21 am »
Fangirl

“Angels!”

Angelus slapped his forehead hard as Maya began to giggle insanely, dressed in her lavender gown and the light blue wig, the angel wings still on her back. Later, they’d be marred for her Halloween outfit as Satan, but at that moment they were pristine.

And her character was uncreatively called ‘Angela Blanc’.
“I hate you,” Angelus told her and it only made Maya laugh harder. The actor of Ash Landers, the other angel of the pair, was also laughing. He was well aware of Angelus’s hatred of this whole situation by now.

The performance was over. The Black Butler musical had come to its end so Angelus wouldn’t have to endure this much longer. Jasmine reached them and Angelus scowled at her.
“Juls has already headed off to the bar, but he said something about coming in costume, Maya.”

Maya clapped her hands together,
“Oh, really?”

“Swear to god….”


“I don’t know,”
she glanced at Angelus, who huffed, “John might get confused and serve me rum and Ange grasshoppers.”

The frustrated and angry noises that escaped her brother were far too amusing.
“No, he knows you’re Satan. Pretty sure he knows that means angel, too. You’re good, Maya.”

“Well then,”
she shrugged her shoulders. The wings were heavy, but to annoy Angelus, she’d deal with it for a few more hours. “Wanna come along, Jess?” She looked to the actor of Ash, who shook his head.

“No, I’m beat. I’m going to sleep for the rest of the week,”
he answered.

Maya nodded,
“All right then. Get some sleep.” Jess bid them farewell, and Maya asked Jasmine, “Can I at least put something else on? This dress is…I don't want to get it dirty.”

“Sure, we’ll wait in the lobby,” she said, and then grabbed Angelus by the shoulder and pulled him away so he couldn’t complain or shout suggestions. Maya walked back towards the green room and the dressing rooms, but didn’t quite make it before being stopped again.

“Miss Porter!”

So formal. Maya turned and saw a blonde woman standing there. She gave her a smile,
“I, ah, I really liked your performance. I didn’t expect to see Ash and Angela played so well in the stage.”

“I was skeptical about it myself,” Maya informed her, “Thank you.”

“Oh, you’ve seen the anime then?”


Maya nodded. She had watched it because of the play, but regardless, she’d seen it.
“I like it. I haven’t watched much anime. Do you know others like this one?”

“Pandora’s Heart!” The young woman said immediately, then seemed to color with embarrassment. “Um, well, it has the idea of the contract to it, anyway, but it isn’t the same feel. Not exactly.”

“You watch a lot of anime?”

The woman nodded, as if ashamed of it. Maya would later learn she was quite the fangirl.
“I’ve seen a lot of interesting anime costumes at conventions before….”

“You cosplay?” Hopeful.

Maya nodded, ticked off,
“Ada Wong, Lady Yuna, and Daenerys Targaryen so far,” oh, those had been fun times, “I haven’t figured out what I’ll do this year. I can’t do Angela now, but I want to use the wings for something.”

“Alexiel! Angel Sanctuary, um, I think the wings could be used for that, and you could be Alexiel.”


“I never get to be Satan.”
Maya huffed, and the girl giggled.

“Well, Lucifer doesn’t really have wings in Angel Sanctuary. There is this anime, The Devil is a Part Timer. Lucifer has purple hair and black wings…hm, so that wouldn’t quite work,”
Maya’s wings were white. “I could probably think of something, but I’ll need time. I’m part of a cosplay group, though! We have a facebook account, you could like us and just send a message, and I could help you figure things out.”

Maya liked her.
“How about you come out with me, and we’ll talk costume and anime? It seems to be such a fascinating world to get into, and I need to make my brother stop watching Supernatural or he’ll end up finding a way to make me go as Sam Winchester to his Dean at the next convention.” That caused the woman to laugh. Her brother wouldn't. He had only attended one convention, the first, in costume, to appease her. She didn't force him to dress up anymore, but he still went to them to get stuff. “He’s helped me pick most of my costumes so far. Not Dany. That was all me, but Ada and Yuna come from games he likes.” Maya did like Resident Evil, but she'd never played through any Final Fantasy game. She had watched him, though.

“I see. Um, well, I could do that, if I wouldn’t be intruding?”


“Nonsense. Call me Maya. What can I call you?”


“I’m Sarah.”


Maya offered her hand, and Sarah took it,
“Good to meet you, Sarah. We’re all going to a bar to meet with our friend Juls. He’s also into costumes, so you’ll be in good company. He helped put this together to match the anime.” Maya said. This hadn’t been a difficult outfit for him, except for the feathers. She remembered quite a lot of cursing. “I’ll be just a few minutes, I gotta change.” 
« Last Edit: January 06, 2015, 09:20:07 am by Krystal Itzume »

Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #55 on: January 16, 2015, 12:29:26 am »
Cherubim

“We could start a band,”
Maya mused as she sat in the karaoke bar with a rum and coke, the drink of preference lately there in Bristol. “You could sing,” Angelus wrinkled his nose, “And I could play the piano. Or the electric violin.”

“You sing,” he said, “I’ll learn guitar.”

“We still need a drummer and a bassist, at least,”
Andrew pointed out.

“Well obviously you can be the bassist,”
Jasmine said. “Juls could drum. I’ll be the manager. I’ll find people to write you pop songs we can sell.” Andrew and Angelus laughed at that.

“But Ange should sing,” Maya insisted, “He’s better at it.”

“No, I’m not,” he denied.

“You could be,” Jasmine noted, “I’ve heard you sing, Ange.” His cheeks tinted, “You’re good!”

“I’m not.”


“Prove it,”
Maya challenged and pointed towards the stage, “Sing something,” he rarely sang at karaoke night. Angelus shook his head. “Come on, if you don’t get a standing ovation, I’ll admit you can’t sing.” Jasmine nodded her head in agreement.

“Fine, I’ll sing Britney Spears and prove—”


“I’ll pick the song,” Jasmine said, rising from her stool. Angelus pushed his drink forward, also rum and coke, and walked with her to the book of songs, and began to flip through them, dreading what was to come.

Jasmine was thinking as she flipped through them. It had to be a song Angelus could play with, something with a raised voice, but not screamo. It had to balance Angelus’s own natures for him not to purposefully mess it up. It had to be a song he’d find himself singing well in spite of his own desires.


“I could do the Thong Song,”
Angelus joked, and Jasmine just rolled her eyes, flipped the page. “Aww….”

“This,” Jasmine paused at last and touched the title. Angelus arched an eyebrow, glanced at her, and she nodded.

“All right,” he liked the song, quite a bit, actually. It had pretty much been his teenage anthem, or one of them, anyway. He went to the one in control of the karaoke system and put in the request, and was told he’d be up after the next two songs. He returned, and made sure Jasmine didn’t tell the others what song she’d chosen for him, until he was called up to the stage and the music began.

There were smiles around the room. It was familiar to many.


“Change my attempt, good intentions.”


And then the rock kicked in, and Angelus found his body moving a bit.


“Crouched over, you were not there
Living in fear
But signs were not really that scarce
Obvious tears
But I, will not, hide you through this
I want you to help
And please, see, the bleeding heart perched
On my shirt.


There was something within that was pulled at, something Angelus wouldn’t understand for years as ArchAngelus. The music called to it, and Angelus sunk into the passion and sung out the way his mother had always wanted him to, the way he always knew he could. His voice was strong, and he knew music from both practice in his youth, and observing Maya.

His gestures and his voice gave away a story he couldn’t remember.


“Heave the silver hollow sliver passing through another victim.
Turn and tremble, be judgmental, ignorant to all the symbols.
Blind your face with beauty paste eventually you’ll one day know—
Change my attempt, good intentions,
Limbs tied.
Skin tight.
Self-inflicted, his perdition
Should I…
Could I…
Change my attempt, good intentions
SHOULD I?
COULD I?”


And when the drum was hit, the crowd in the bar rose to applaud, and Angelus fell out of his self-induced trance to see it, and feel the familiar fear he knew, when he was proving his mother right.

For all the times he’d told Maya to accept what it was she liked, and what it was she was good at, he couldn’t take his own advice. He blushed red and nearly dropped the microphone as he tried to put it back on the stand, before hurrying back to where his friends were amidst congratulations. He sucked down the rest of his drink.


“Told ya.”


“Shut it.”
« Last Edit: January 17, 2015, 08:25:21 pm by Krystal Itzume »

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #56 on: February 15, 2015, 01:58:56 am »
Bought And Sold

Angelus looked at the skateboard he was being offered by the suited man. He took it, looked at the interesting flame job on the bottom of it, the detailed wheels, the brand name—the man jabbered on about the bit of research he did, but Angelus was paying him little attention.

It had only been two days ago that this so-called boyfriend of Maya’s had asked him what sort of things he liked, and Angelus had lied. He chose something that fit the impression others tended to have of him and said ‘skateboard’.

Angelus couldn’t care less about skateboarding.

This act confirmed quite a few of his suspicions, though he couldn’t even place why they existed, or how. It was stuck in Angelus’s head, though, that people with money to flaunt were not good people. They bought others, as Aeron was now trying to buy Angelus rather than go through the hard work of getting to know him. Angelus knew it was a hard task—he wasn’t easy to get along with.

He proved it, too, by shoving the skateboard right at Aeron with enough force to make the man step back as his hands instinctively wrapped around the board to hold it when Angelus released it.
“Strike one.”

Aeron blinked in confusion.
“What do you mean?”

“I don’t care about skateboards.”


“You said—”


“I lied.”


Angelus observed Aeron narrow his eyes and lower the board.
“I want us to be friends.”

“Then treat me like a friend.”


Aeron looked at the skateboard, then to Angelus, then gave a shrug, clearly confused.
“I tried, so I'm not sure what you mean.”

Angelus gestured outside,
“Come for a walk with me. Talk.”

“I…don’t think we’ll have anything in common.”


“Sure we will,” Angelus smiled, but it was all teeth, “My sister. I’d love to interrogate you the way my father should have. Like, maybe you could tell me what her favorite color is?”

There was a noticeable hesitation. Then, a smile, a laugh, and a shake of the head.
“I don’t have time for this.”

“You don’t know.”


Aeron didn’t answer either way. He folded the skateboard under one arm as he said,
“What do you have against me dating your sister, Angelus?”

“You’re taking up all of her time.”


Aeron stifled his laugh as Angelus continued,
“I don’t see her anymore.”

“She’s a busy woman, Angelus. It’s her choice who she spends her time with. It wouldn’t be normal if she were spending it all with her kid brother. You two don’t seem to have much in common as it is.”


“We have more in common than you think,”
Angelus was quick to say.

Aeron shook his head, still more amused than intimidated,
“I’ll mention your displeasure to her, if that will make you happy.”

“No, it won’t.”


Aeron arched an eyebrow.
“It’d make me happy if you’d take a walk with me.”

“As I said, I don’t have the time,”
Aeron moved towards the door.

“You ever want me to like you, you’ll find the time,”
Angelus snapped at his back. Aeron glanced over his shoulder to see the glare of the teenager. His father had warned him about Angelus. He tried to get on the brother's good side, but it seemed it was going to be a difficult task, “And you will need me to, if you want this to last.”

Now, Aeron smiled, and he responded,
“I doubt that.” From what he understood, Angelus was the black sheep. Easily ignored by all, and this would hold true. Maya’s own feelings for Angelus would change if everyone was against him. It seemed to be how things were proceeding anyway. “Have a good evening, Angelus.” He let himself out, figured he’d sell the skateboard to someone who knew its value.

"It's green!"
Angelus shouted at the door, then crossed his arms and glared at the shut barrier. "And I like poetry books."

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #57 on: February 15, 2015, 02:54:55 am »
Come What May

The ghost of a kiss was still on his lips, one unscripted, and it haunted Devlin in a way he could only now call intuition. As he parked Cindy in front of the house Maya had once lived in, he felt immediately as if he shouldn’t be there. The door was wide open, and there was a moving truck in the front yard.

Even so, he walked on up to the front door. He knocked on it, called,
“Hello?”

His answer didn’t come from someone in the house, though, but from the man in the truck. Aeron Harper, sweaty and dressed down, stepped out of the truck.
“Hey,” Devlin greeted.

He could feel the anger from Aeron’s glare, though.
“I was…where’s Maya?”

Aeron stepped out of the truck,
“Don’t act as if you don’t know.” Aeron stated, “What are you doing here?” Though as he asked, he walked to the front door as well. He passed Devlin and walked into the house. He heard Devlin take a few steps in, but he didn’t look back at him.

“I—I don’t—what’s going on?” Maya hadn’t told him of a move. Of course, she also hadn’t told him she was going to delete her facebook, and change her cell phone number. He couldn’t reach her at all, and now it was really starting to worry him.

“You. You will be mean.”


Their backstage antics no longer seemed so innocent. He and Maya had played at Moulin Rouge, like they always wanted to, and yet acted Shakespeare on the stage.


“Aeron, where’s Maya?”
He couldn’t hide the anxiety.

Aeron returned to his sight with a book in hand, one of his heavy law ones.
“Gone.” Aeron told him. “And she told me about you.”

“And I…I’ll drink all the time!”

“What do you mean?”


Devlin had to duck. Aeron hurled the book at his head.
“DON’T PLAY DUMB WITH ME!” He shouted.

“We should be lovers!”
“We can’t do that.”

“She told me all about how she snuck around with you, before she left!”
Aeron snapped, “So you’ve come just to twist the knife, haven’t you? Or did she send you to get something she forgot?”

Devlin was stepping back as Aeron walked to the door. Devlin should have picked up the book, but he didn’t think of it. Aeron, however, did.
“You’re crazy!” Devlin said, “Maya and I were just friends—partners! I never—we never—only on the stage!”

“This story is about love.
The woman I loved is….”

Aeron shook his head,
“Don’t waste your breath with your lies. I know. She left to run off with you, didn’t she?” He brandished the book as a weapon. Devlin nearly tripped over his own feet in backing up.

“NO! I don’t know where she is! I—we—no one knows! I was worried!”


Aeron stopped.

Devlin didn’t wait to try and get more answers out of him. He had all the answers he needed, so he turned and ran for his car, started it up, and peeled out of there. He did not drive far, just enough to be out of sight and in a public parking spot. There he parked, and there, he slammed a hand on the horn of his car.
“DAMN IT!”

“One day I’ll fly away, leave all this to yesterday….”

Devlin understood the act Maya had been playing and why she had always loved Moulin Rouge, but never, never chose Roxanne for any of their dance competitions. Some things hit close to home. Now Devlin saw it.


“Thank you.”


Maya had known she was saying goodbye to him that night.

Devlin wished he had seen it.

Years later, he’d browse Facebook and type in her name on a whim. Years later, Devlin would find her page, mostly blocked, but there would be a picture of her all the same, dressed in burgundy, with Moulin Rouge behind her and in the arms of someone who must have been the actor of 'Christian'. It caused him to laugh. It caused him to smile. He considered messaging her, but in the end, he chose not to.

She had flown away, and he would let her be happy.

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #58 on: April 15, 2015, 05:51:56 am »
ONE NIGHT

It had several months since the two had gone public with their relationship, since that wonderful evening they had shared their first kiss. Donny, still quite young despite his intellect, had not anticipated that there would be much change in his life, but he had been wrong. His life was different, and there was no denying it. Donovan treasured every second he got to spend with Laura, but his performance in school had been affected and it served as proof that not everything was the same.

The boy told himself that he didn’t mind it, that his time was better spent in her company. She was a beautiful girl, but that was not why he felt himself so attached to her. It wasn’t why he was intoxicated by her presence, and longing to see her every time he had an unguarded thought. Laura was a woman, a few years older than him, whose every word had a purpose. She was intelligent and independent, thriving and surpassing her competition in anything she tried to do. She was a force that was worth admiring, truly unstoppable.

Donovan loved that girl, and he’d professed his affections countless times. Such affections were adequately reciprocated by her, and they were sincere. Was that mutual love for the other not enough to overcome the struggles that came with difficulty?

“You don’t have to apologize to me, Donny,” Laura’s voice rang from Donovan’s speaker phone as it rested atop the comforter of his neatly done bed. She sounded honest, as if she truly didn’t mind whatever Donovan was apologizing for. “We don’t have to see each other all the time.”

Donovan breathed out, running his hand through his damp hair. He was wearing a muscle shirt, drowned in sweat, and in the middle of a workout. His dietary change and weight lifting was far more noticeable now than it had been a couple of months ago. Donny’s costume for the play at the theater had even needed some minor alterations under the table.

“But I want to,” he said in between slightly labored breaths, “I can’t stand not being able to see you as much as I want, and I can’t stand cancelling on you. It’s not how it’s supposed to be.”

The lad had sacrificed as much time as he could, and already he was slacking off in football practice and during rehearsal. While before he would lead the team on the field and know every line during reads at the theater, Donovan now found himself being called out for being unprepared. His grades, though still highly competitive with the best, had dropped from what he held to be his standard. 

“When I told you that I would be your girlfriend, I knew that you were the busy sort. It comes as no surprise to me that you have a life outside of our relationship.”

Donny shook his head, as if Laura could see him. “I want you to come with me tonight,” he said after giving it some thought.

“I thought your mum wanted you to go alone,” Laura was quick to add, but she did not sound bitter at all. “I think she may be right, babe.”

“She’s out of her mind,” said Donovan in a huff, though he immediately regretted it. Not once had he spoken ill of her mother, but his assertions were not without reason. “It’s just that she doesn’t even know what it’ll be like. I’ve heard that these mixers can get out of hand, and she wants me to go alone so that I won’t be distracted? Doesn’t she care what kind of people these photographers are?”

A scoff.

Donovan had been invited to a model mixer, where photographers and designers could drink and socialize at their leisure. Donovan’s agent had mentioned that it was the best way for Donovan to start his reputation, to expand his horizons into something larger. Models were often invited to inspire, and more often than not, land a few jobs. Ella needed not be told twice before she firmly gave her opinion on the matter.

Laura’s silence was proof that Donovan, too, had a point.

“We were supposed to go out today anyway,” said Donny, dropping down to start doing pushups. “I’ll be much more comfortable if you come with me. It’ll be fun, you’ll get to meet some of the photographers I work with, and you’ll get to see some of my shots.” Donovan hated the things, but if they could help them convince Laura to come, then he'd use them as weapons.

“Alright,” Laura said, and Donovan got the feeling that she was smiling. “Though I’m only doing it so that you don’t go and do something you’ll regret tomorrow. How will this work?”

“I’ll pick you up,” Donovan was not technically allowed to drive yet, but he’d gotten consent. It was not exactly appealing for a young model to be driven by his mother. “Don’t worry, I know how to drive.” This time it was he who smiled.

Laura laughed. “That is so not why I’m worried. I’m going to go get ready,” she said dismissively, “call me when you’re on your way, yeah?”

“Alright,” said Donovan, rising from the floor and picking up the phone. “I love you.”

“I love you, too.”


Then the line cut off. Donovan clicked a button on his phone and tossed it back on the bed. He would also need to get ready. Luckily, Donovan had been given clothes from one of the designers, that he had previously worked, for to wear that evening

***

It was dressed in a casual black suit with a silver buttoned shirt that he emerged from the car, wearing perfectly round sunglasses that reflected the last rays of the sunset. He moved to the other side of the car to open up the door for Laura, who was wearing a yellow dress that complemented her chocolate skin perfectly. The music could be heard from outside, and the streets reeked of smoke. This was definitely a popular place in London.

“Don’t be nervous,” said Donovan with a crooked smile.

Laura rolled her eyes, hiding a smile. “I’m not nervous.” It was true. Laura was not the kind of person that easily got nervous, and she found absolutely nothing intimidating about the evening.

With his arm around her, Donovan led Laura into the club. The music was not too loud, and half of the tables by the dance floor seemed to be empty. It took only Donovan a second to figure out that the whole place had probably been rented out just for that evening’s occasion. The ceiling was high, and the dance floor lights were not too distracting from the dimly lit room. The lighting was still lighter than most clubs, as the appearance of the guests was much too important for the people who would attend that night.

“Do you want a drink?”

“Just water, love,” Laura’s tone hinted that she would not be drinking alcohol that night.

The night progressed, and soon the whole place was full of people. The dance floor was packed, but none were really dancing. Those that ventured to the floor with the dancing lights only swayed, as conversation was still the main order of the night. The models towered over the photographers, and the designers had congregated in a single area of the club. Naturally, the designers were the most coveted people of the night, and therefore the people who were treated with the most care.

As fate would have it, Donovan was popular among them. He found himself trying to charm these people into thinking that he wanted a future in modeling, and they seemed to believe him. Such a thing could not be farther from the truth. They toasted to his potential, arranged for meetings with him as early as the following week.

Just as soon as Donny had found a moment to spare between his constant networking, he turned to look for Laura. To his surprise, she was right next to him. He’d not noticed that she’d been there the whole time.

“All right?”

Laura offered him a smile. “All right, babe.”

“You’re sure?”

“Yes, Donny,” she caressed his shoulder with her hand. “Now come on, you’re doing good. Keep at it, hot stuff.”

The both of them laughed.

Slowly, people began to leave – those who had been mentally shunned by the elite, and those who had ventured to the bar one too many times. As a result, those that remained were beginning to look more and more familiar. The number of groups became smaller, and the amount of people per group became larger.

“Which agency do you work for…?”

“Laura,” she answered with a polite nod, as the designer spoke to her.

“Laura,” he repeated with a nod and a smile, attracting Donny’s attention, “you’re a beauty, my girl.”
 
“Thank you,” she said, and was just about to set the poor confused designer straight before…

“She’s not a model,” it was Donovan who spoke, tightening his grip on Laura slightly, but keeping his demeanor calm.

Laura was not a woman who was easily shocked, but she could not contain her surprise at Donovan’s words. She looked to him with an expression that showed just how much she wanted to understand why he’d felt the need to interrupt and say that. Laura knew that Donny had only had one drink, and it had been at least an hour ago. Clearly alcohol was not the culprit to his behavior.

“Ah,” said the designer, placing a hand over his chest. “Well, you can see where my confusion was born, now can’t you? You’re very pretty. Although…you are quite short to be a model, I should have known.”

Laura was still looking at Donovan when the designer spoke, but his voice had been enough to bring her back to the current conversation. “Oh please,” she seemed pleasant once again, trying her best to not think too much on what had happened. “I should be wearing a name badge or something,” she joked and they both laughed it off. The only one that didn’t laugh was Donovan, whose expression had very quickly hardened.

“Babe,” he called to Laura as other conversations started. “It’s getting late. We should get going.”

Donovan seemed to give no room for argument.

The boy’s abrupt change of attitude did not go unnoticed by Laura. She gave him a hard smile before allowing him to escort her out. There was no point in confronting him in front of all the people he had worked so hard to impress that evening. As they walked out, however, she could feel the very tension in the air. Whatever had happened back there, she wanted to know, and she was not going to take no for an answer.

“What’s wrong?” Laura was the first to speak as they neared the car, out in the empty street.

“Nothing,” said Donovan immediately, too quickly that it only raised Laura’s suspicion.

“You don’t need to lie to me, Donny. I know something is wrong, I’m just trying to figure out what.” Laura’s tone was not angry, it was just confused. She truly only wanted to understand.

“It’s—” Donovan was struggling with his words, unsure of whether he should really be honest. In reality, he didn’t think that he could fool Laura even if he wanted to. “It bothered me that he thought you were a model, okay? It’s nothing, I’m not mad at you. Don’t worry.”

Laura halted almost immediately. “So what are you saying, exactly?”

Donovan turned to look at her, surprised that she’d stopped. He wanted to ask why she’d stopped, or why she felt the need to make a point. “What? What is it?” Laura’s gaze hardened, but she gave no inclination as to why. “It’s nothing, just…jealousy, I guess.”

Laura scoffed, an angry smile coming across her face. This, whatever was wrong with Donovan, wasn’t jealousy. Laura had seen Donovan be jealous before, and this looked nothing like it. Donovan was not a rude person, and he certainly wasn’t possessive with her when he felt threatened. Laura had learned that this was precisely because Donovan did not often feel threatened by anyone. If he was ever jealous, he simply shook it off like it was nothing. This was certainly not nothing.

Then things slowly began to come into focus. It was jealousy.
 
“Oh my god,” she breathed out, her hand absently reaching for her forehead in disbelief. “You think you’re better than me, don’t you?”

This time it was Donovan who looked angry. “That is ridiculous.”

There was no convincing Laura otherwise, however. Every little remark that Donovan had said to her – how he worried for her nerves and her comfort, it wasn’t because he was considerate, but because he felt like he was better than her. Donovan somehow expected her to be weak, to need him to guide her, and he was surely more than willing to step up to the plate. When he corrected the designer back at the club, it wasn’t that he was jealous of the man Laura was paying attention to, but it was the he was jealous of Laura for grabbing attention that was not hers to take.

Noticing this only made it clear that Donovan had felt this way the entire time they were together.

“No,” said Laura, “it’s not ridiculous. It’s true.” She shook her head, still in shock. “Oh my god, it’s true. I can’t believe this is happening to me…”

“Laura,” said Donovan, annoyed, “stop it. I don’t feel like I’m better than you. It’s…you just don’t get it.”

Laura was ignited, furious. “There! You see, that’s the look right there. You think I’m beneath you or something. Well, I’m not Donny. You’re not better than me. You may think so, but you're not.” Her eyes challenged him.

“You’re being stupid,” he regretted the words immediately after they left his mouth. “What is this? Is this a gender thing?”

Laura looked to Donovan in disbelief. This had nothing to do with her being a woman, she didn’t think like that. This was just the way he treated her, and not just her, Donovan treated many people like that. That night had only been the first night that she’d realized it. She was not the kind of person that would tolerate this. She never would.

“Go home, Donny,” her words were ice, threatening with the fact that Donovan was treading on some thin ice.

“Then get in the car.”

“I’ll take a cab.”

“Laura, come on, get in the car.”

Laura shook her head, finding it better to have only her own company for the night. “No, go home, Donny. Goodnight.” She turned, ready to head back into the club to call herself a cab that would take her home. She felt Donny’s hand grip her arm, and she spun to meet his gaze. “Don’t…!” The word hung in the air, and her gaze could keep the fiercest of predators at bay. Donovan had never seen a thing like it.

Donovan let her arm go, defeated, and Laura marched right back into the club. Every step that she took made Donovan feel more broken. Despite his pride, he stayed there until the cab arrived and Laura entered it. She did not look at him once, and it drove off into the night.


Krystal Itzume

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Re: Echoes of Time [Whoniverse One-Shots][Closed]
« Reply #59 on: May 05, 2015, 08:49:24 pm »
Soulmates

Devlin found himself sitting lazily in a chair, one leg draped over one arm, while the producers of Strictly Come Dancing sat properly at the desk before him. “Devlin, if you want to remain employed, then you will demonstrate, professionally, how to do the Argentine Tango this season.” 

The man with the dyed platinum hair knew it was a bluff,
“And I told you, I don’t have a partner for it.”

“There are plenty of women who can do it. There’s Marilyn—”


“Pfft. She’s the enemy. And I beat her.”
National championship, baby. Marilyn and James had placed second. Devlin couldn’t forget the looks on their faces as they had to congratulate him and Maya.

The woman let out a frustrated sound,
“Devlin, Maya Porter has been off the scene for years. We don’t even know where she is. You have to find someone else.”

“I don’t,”
he said. “I’ve been working with Flavia. We’ll show any other dance, but not the Argentine.”

Devlin had been firm on this. He’d been firm on it for years. He hadn’t lost his talent for the Argentine dance at all, and he showed that every time he and his celebrity partner had to do that dance on the show. However, he refused to show it off without Maya, because Maya was the only one who could do it right.


“This is Devlin Sommers. He’s my stripper pole. He stays in place while I do all the cool stuff in the dance.”


Devlin had to fight back a laugh as that phrase returned to his mind.


“You’ve got to move on,”
one of them said derisively.

Devlin smirked,
“No I don’t.” He looked them over, “So, am I fired, or do you want me and Flavia to do some other dance for you this season?” He grinned broadly, knowing what the answer would be.

“Cha Cha,”
the woman said, after turning to the others.

“Thanks,”
Devlin moved his leg off the arm of the chair and rose, putting a hand on the desk as he did so, “You won’t be disappointed,” and he pushed away from the desk and left the room. Devlin wasn’t popular with the producers, but the fans loved him—he was safe.

He skipped out the door and dug out his phone to text Flavia, but another thought crossed his mind. He used his data to get on the internet, and typed in a name he hadn’t searched in years.

A smile came to his lips as he saw it:


Maya Porter (Lucyfer)

“You bitch.”


She was posed in the profile image with some other man, draped in burgundy, with the Moulin Rouge behind them.

It hurt. The agony that twisted in his heart was a mix of jealousy and longing, because he hated that man. Immediately, he hated him who played Christian to Maya’s Satine, because that was meant to be him. More than that, though, he hated him who got to see Maya after she’d grown confident again.

Devlin could see it in her body language and the languid smile, beneath those hooded eyes. He hated those who got to see Maya in a way Devlin had only see her pretend to be. If it weren’t for the twist of happiness, he might have sent a message to her.

But, that twist of happiness kept the smile glued to his face, and his fingers still.
“You were supposed to haunt me, demon.”

She was doing that perfectly in her absence, he supposed. He flipped off her page. He knew, deep down, if she wanted to reconnect then she would. He knew it was too soon. If he so much as sent a message to her, that confidence would falter in memories of what London was to her—the good, and the bad she'd never told him about.
‘But you’ll come home one day.’

Devlin wanted to believe it, and so he did.
‘We’ll let them know why it can’t be anyone else.’ He went back to his messages, and went to shoot one to Flavia. ‘Because Satine doesn’t dance Roxanne.’

One day, they’d finish what they started. 


~***~

It was a quiet evening in her own home, with a cup of tea and the melodies of Lindsey Stirling playing through the stereo system. Maya had returned only thirty minutes ago from teaching a dance class at the community center.

She did all sorts of things to make money. No two days were ever alike. Tomorrow, she was giving three different lessons on the violin, and then playing at a café. It was not stable, but she always found enough work to live on her own, and not with Angelus.

As much as the two loved each other, Maya couldn’t continue living with him. She needed a quiet space to practice the violin, and lots of room to practice dance, and Angelus was not quiet, nor a spacious person.


‘Should sleep.’

Yet she wasn’t tired, so she clicked onto Facebook, knowing there was absolutely nothing to check or look at. It was a video that was posted to her timeline that drew her attention, though. One of her students had linked her to a video.


Is this you?!


A slow smile came on her lips as she saw the video was, indeed, her. Her and Devlin, 2007, winning the national championship. Maya almost laughed, a touch embarrassed as she thought of how much better she was. She responded back.


Yes, that’s me, and my old partner Devlin.
He’s brilliant.


Curiosity caused Maya to type his name into the facebook search bar. A page and a profile came up, and Maya clicked the page first. It was immediately clear on clicking it that Devlin was well-loved, and a comment came back to hers.


He’s on Strictly Come Dancing, you know.


Maya hadn’t. She hadn’t been watching the show, but from Devlin’s page, that was clear. He was paired up with Gemma Arterton for this next season.
“Bitch,” Maya said aloud, then clicked to Devlin’s personal page.

He had red hair. Friggin’ red hair, to match his red car, no doubt, and she wanted to send him a message asking if Cindy was jealous of his hair. Would he still have Cindy, or would he have upgraded.


“One day, we’re going to be on that show together, you the star and me the professional.”


Maya’s smile became sad.
‘Oh.’ She hadn’t fulfilled her end of the bargain, had she? Guilt sunk her emotions. ‘Maybe one day.’ She was too scared to step into the spotlight again, too concerned she’d draw unwanted attention. But…maybe one day. ‘I’ll surprise you, Dev. Just wait.’

And she smiled, happy to see he was well off. She’d not contact him, not yet. When she returned to the scene, it would be with a roar.

‘Hear me Roar.’ And she laughed to herself, wondering if he still preferred the Lannisters, too. She wondered so much, and acknowledged then that, perhaps, she had known Devlin a lot better than she would have admitted back then, as all of his quirks came rushing back to her.