The Marquis de All The Knives (![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png)
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rainbowfic2015-03-15 08:30 pm
balsamandash) wrote in rainbowfic2015-03-15 08:30 pm
Halloween Orange, Pearls of Wisdom, True Blue
Name: August
Title: i walked this line, a million and one times
Story: Don't Be Afraid of a Little Bit of Progress
Colors: Halloween Orange #4, "Blood burns like fire, and it always burns through."; Pearls of Wisdom #5, "When someone hugs you, let them be the first to let go."; True Blue #12, "Understanding"
Supplies and Styles: N/A
Word Count: 1241
Rating: PG13
Warnings: skip
Child abuse of a nonindicative nature, and the ghost of said abuser showing up to his child; child death (not the main focus, but a good ~150-word side tangent); brief discussion of a facility that tests children with powers (it doesn't go indepth into anything but the testing is clearly unpleasant and unwanted); mentioned consensual possession (by a ghost, of a medium)
Notes: I need a story tag please, mods? (Story title is kind of long so if you want to abbreviate it a 'a little bit of progress', that might be better.)
This is a really new world for me, but I'm rather excited to try and get to writing it, so here goes. :D
Caleb doesn't actually fall through the door when Adrian opens it, but it's a near thing.
He leans on the doorframe instead, one hand stretched out across to the opposite side, and it should look like a photoshoot. It's Caleb; half the time he looks like he's posing for an album cover, even with no crowds around. He's been a rockstar since before he picked up his first guitar, been playing to the crowds for years before they were actually there. And Adrian's not much of a crowd, but he's his brother's first and biggest fan, and he's seen as much of his stage smile and his photo-ready poses as anyone else.
But he's also seen this, when nobody else still alive has: Caleb's shoulders are up near his chin, his back hunched; his mouth is set in a tight line, and when he takes off his sunglasses, the bags below his eyes are worse than usual.
"I talked to dad last night," he says, his voice too low for anyone who might be listening, and Adrian goes cold with shock. Caleb's always talking to someone -- even now, his eyes flicker up over Adrian's shoulder as he processes, and he offers a tiny nod to whoever's hanging around today -- but the last time their dad made contact was years ago. He doesn't even visit on birthdays or his deathday anymore, like he did the first couple of years.
"Come on. I've got coffee," Adrian finally manages to say, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and Caleb snorts.
"I was thinking more like rum," he suggests, but he does step in, shutting the door behind him before reaching out to pull Adrian into a hug. He's taller than Caleb is now. He still forgets that.
Adrian wraps his arms around him, letting his brother hold on as tight as he needs to, and struggles to keep his voice casual. "No rum. Might have scotch somewhere, though." It doesn't quite work, but Caleb doesn't say anything, just makes a noise that could mean anything, from whatever, nevermind to alcohol now please, and hides his face against Adrian's shirt. Adrian hums, biting back the comforting words that did shit all when dad was alive for either of them, and less still the first time he walked into the living room to see Caleb pale and staring at dad's chair.
"Tell me I'm just crazy, Adi," Caleb mumbles, and Adrian's heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He hasn't heard anything like that since the first round of testing, when Caleb was fifteen and sure that this was the start of life as a lab rat. He hadn't been powerful enough to sideline that way, and he'd taken the news like he'd known it all along, with a grin and too much confidence for the gawky teenage boy he'd still been. They never talked about it after that -- the way Caleb had cried for nights during the testing phase, praying that he was wrong and he wasn't hearing ghosts after all.
He never heard his brother wish his gift away after that. Not when he quietly confessed two years later than he'd started seeing the ghosts too, or after the first time one possessed him. Caleb had screamed at their dad plenty when he appeared again, but even then, Adrian had never heard him say a word about what he could do. Just that their dad had no right to come back.
When Caleb was fifteen, Adrian could say maybe. He was twelve and scared and wasn't sure exactly he was agreeing to, but he agreed anyway, because Caleb was crying and had been going to the test facility instead of school for weeks and he'd been terrified that they were going to take away his best friend. So he had said maybe, maybe Caleb was wrong, was crazy, was hearing things, wasn't hearing voices, that he'd just taken the death of the little girl next door too hard, that he hadn't really been hearing her cry. Things like that happened, right?
They both knew Julie, had held her when she came back from the hospital, Adrian settled carefully on the couch with her mother next to him, Caleb just old enough, at eleven, to hold her on his own. Caleb had been sitting for her just the week before the accident. Of course they'd both been shocked by it. Of course Caleb would feel guilty. It made sense, and it made him normal, meant no one could take him after all.
But that first round of tests had said otherwise; and then Caleb was weighed and measured and found wanting, and Adrian had never been so relieved by his brother failing anything in his life.
Now, he can't do it. He's seen his brother hold too many one-sided conversations, watched too many last messages posted anonymously on the boards hit home with total strangers, talked to too many ghosts temporarily borrowing his brother's body. He knows, they both know, there's no chance it isn't real.
He doesn't say anything, just hums another failure of comfort, and Caleb chokes on something that could be a sob before he straightens up, breaking out of Adrian's hold and scrubbing at his face with one hand. "Coffee," he says, demanding and pleading in equal measure, a trick Adrian could never learn. "And everything sweet in your kitchen and then maybe I'll be ready for your crappy scotch."
"My scotch is only crappy to rock stars. To interns and waiters it's fucking gold," he informs, and is rewarded with a snort and a real smile.
"How is working for the Empire? They don't have you bugged yet, right?" As if they hadn't already worked out a signal, and Adrian wouldn't have given it to him the second he showed up talking about dad. Adrian has his place swept every week, and every time he gets a new job duty. He loves his job, his job needs doing, but that doesn't mean he trusts his employers.
"I'm still mostly getting coffee and filling out paperwork, but now it's in the testing office." He says it casually, like it means nothing, but Caleb stops in the kitchen doorway for a moment, looking stunned and then proud. Caleb knows all of his plans -- because Adrian needed to work it out with someone, and because the day he'd accepted the internship, Caleb had showed up on his doorstep, spitting mad and barely holding himself back from throwing punches before Adrian explained. Internship is step one, finally accomplished; a real job, where he'd be in a position to maybe help some kids who were as scared as Caleb once was, and where he can maybe fudge some results to keep out some kids on the borderline, is step two.
"Definitely scotch later, then. For your transfer and for screaming dad straight back to the grave and I'm sleeping on your fucking couch tonight," Caleb announces, a little of his usual grandeur in it even as all he's doing is pulling down mugs, and the sick feeling in Adrian's stomach finally starts to settle.
"It's all yours."
He hands Caleb a full cup, and Caleb pauses with both hands wrapped around his coffee, straightening up and looking straight at Adrian. "Thanks," he says, serious and quiet. Too serious for just a cup of coffee or a place to crash after drinking, and Adrian gets it, he always does.
He smiles, raising his cup like a toast. "Any time."
Title: i walked this line, a million and one times
Story: Don't Be Afraid of a Little Bit of Progress
Colors: Halloween Orange #4, "Blood burns like fire, and it always burns through."; Pearls of Wisdom #5, "When someone hugs you, let them be the first to let go."; True Blue #12, "Understanding"
Supplies and Styles: N/A
Word Count: 1241
Rating: PG13
Warnings: skip
Child abuse of a nonindicative nature, and the ghost of said abuser showing up to his child; child death (not the main focus, but a good ~150-word side tangent); brief discussion of a facility that tests children with powers (it doesn't go indepth into anything but the testing is clearly unpleasant and unwanted); mentioned consensual possession (by a ghost, of a medium)
Notes: I need a story tag please, mods? (Story title is kind of long so if you want to abbreviate it a 'a little bit of progress', that might be better.)
This is a really new world for me, but I'm rather excited to try and get to writing it, so here goes. :D
Caleb doesn't actually fall through the door when Adrian opens it, but it's a near thing.
He leans on the doorframe instead, one hand stretched out across to the opposite side, and it should look like a photoshoot. It's Caleb; half the time he looks like he's posing for an album cover, even with no crowds around. He's been a rockstar since before he picked up his first guitar, been playing to the crowds for years before they were actually there. And Adrian's not much of a crowd, but he's his brother's first and biggest fan, and he's seen as much of his stage smile and his photo-ready poses as anyone else.
But he's also seen this, when nobody else still alive has: Caleb's shoulders are up near his chin, his back hunched; his mouth is set in a tight line, and when he takes off his sunglasses, the bags below his eyes are worse than usual.
"I talked to dad last night," he says, his voice too low for anyone who might be listening, and Adrian goes cold with shock. Caleb's always talking to someone -- even now, his eyes flicker up over Adrian's shoulder as he processes, and he offers a tiny nod to whoever's hanging around today -- but the last time their dad made contact was years ago. He doesn't even visit on birthdays or his deathday anymore, like he did the first couple of years.
"Come on. I've got coffee," Adrian finally manages to say, swallowing around the lump in his throat, and Caleb snorts.
"I was thinking more like rum," he suggests, but he does step in, shutting the door behind him before reaching out to pull Adrian into a hug. He's taller than Caleb is now. He still forgets that.
Adrian wraps his arms around him, letting his brother hold on as tight as he needs to, and struggles to keep his voice casual. "No rum. Might have scotch somewhere, though." It doesn't quite work, but Caleb doesn't say anything, just makes a noise that could mean anything, from whatever, nevermind to alcohol now please, and hides his face against Adrian's shirt. Adrian hums, biting back the comforting words that did shit all when dad was alive for either of them, and less still the first time he walked into the living room to see Caleb pale and staring at dad's chair.
"Tell me I'm just crazy, Adi," Caleb mumbles, and Adrian's heart drops to the bottom of his stomach. He hasn't heard anything like that since the first round of testing, when Caleb was fifteen and sure that this was the start of life as a lab rat. He hadn't been powerful enough to sideline that way, and he'd taken the news like he'd known it all along, with a grin and too much confidence for the gawky teenage boy he'd still been. They never talked about it after that -- the way Caleb had cried for nights during the testing phase, praying that he was wrong and he wasn't hearing ghosts after all.
He never heard his brother wish his gift away after that. Not when he quietly confessed two years later than he'd started seeing the ghosts too, or after the first time one possessed him. Caleb had screamed at their dad plenty when he appeared again, but even then, Adrian had never heard him say a word about what he could do. Just that their dad had no right to come back.
When Caleb was fifteen, Adrian could say maybe. He was twelve and scared and wasn't sure exactly he was agreeing to, but he agreed anyway, because Caleb was crying and had been going to the test facility instead of school for weeks and he'd been terrified that they were going to take away his best friend. So he had said maybe, maybe Caleb was wrong, was crazy, was hearing things, wasn't hearing voices, that he'd just taken the death of the little girl next door too hard, that he hadn't really been hearing her cry. Things like that happened, right?
They both knew Julie, had held her when she came back from the hospital, Adrian settled carefully on the couch with her mother next to him, Caleb just old enough, at eleven, to hold her on his own. Caleb had been sitting for her just the week before the accident. Of course they'd both been shocked by it. Of course Caleb would feel guilty. It made sense, and it made him normal, meant no one could take him after all.
But that first round of tests had said otherwise; and then Caleb was weighed and measured and found wanting, and Adrian had never been so relieved by his brother failing anything in his life.
Now, he can't do it. He's seen his brother hold too many one-sided conversations, watched too many last messages posted anonymously on the boards hit home with total strangers, talked to too many ghosts temporarily borrowing his brother's body. He knows, they both know, there's no chance it isn't real.
He doesn't say anything, just hums another failure of comfort, and Caleb chokes on something that could be a sob before he straightens up, breaking out of Adrian's hold and scrubbing at his face with one hand. "Coffee," he says, demanding and pleading in equal measure, a trick Adrian could never learn. "And everything sweet in your kitchen and then maybe I'll be ready for your crappy scotch."
"My scotch is only crappy to rock stars. To interns and waiters it's fucking gold," he informs, and is rewarded with a snort and a real smile.
"How is working for the Empire? They don't have you bugged yet, right?" As if they hadn't already worked out a signal, and Adrian wouldn't have given it to him the second he showed up talking about dad. Adrian has his place swept every week, and every time he gets a new job duty. He loves his job, his job needs doing, but that doesn't mean he trusts his employers.
"I'm still mostly getting coffee and filling out paperwork, but now it's in the testing office." He says it casually, like it means nothing, but Caleb stops in the kitchen doorway for a moment, looking stunned and then proud. Caleb knows all of his plans -- because Adrian needed to work it out with someone, and because the day he'd accepted the internship, Caleb had showed up on his doorstep, spitting mad and barely holding himself back from throwing punches before Adrian explained. Internship is step one, finally accomplished; a real job, where he'd be in a position to maybe help some kids who were as scared as Caleb once was, and where he can maybe fudge some results to keep out some kids on the borderline, is step two.
"Definitely scotch later, then. For your transfer and for screaming dad straight back to the grave and I'm sleeping on your fucking couch tonight," Caleb announces, a little of his usual grandeur in it even as all he's doing is pulling down mugs, and the sick feeling in Adrian's stomach finally starts to settle.
"It's all yours."
He hands Caleb a full cup, and Caleb pauses with both hands wrapped around his coffee, straightening up and looking straight at Adrian. "Thanks," he says, serious and quiet. Too serious for just a cup of coffee or a place to crash after drinking, and Adrian gets it, he always does.
He smiles, raising his cup like a toast. "Any time."
no subject
Thank you for posting this! I'm excited.!
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In fact, Chintzy Novel may be practice for sharing some of them~.
SO. I AM PROUD OF YOU FOR DOING WHAT I HAVE NOT. And I welcome more.
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The revelation of magic/superpowers is really recent in this verse, so mostly the place is one of many, many research facilities in many, many countries racing to be the first to understand how abilities work and where they came from. It's all technically above ground, but that doesn't make it pleasant or stop it from getting a little sketchy now and again.
It's a very new verse for me and I'm kind of excited to see where I can go with it myself. :D
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