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All I've GotIt was well into the night when Malkin finally awoke again. He groaned, trying to sit up, crying out suddenly as the pain set in again.
He realized where he was, and immediately panicked and vanished again; the shadow had released him, and he appeared in a back alleyway someplace he didn't recognize in the strange light of midnight. In his haste to get as far from Cruento Manor as quickly as possible, he hadn't really been aware of where he was going and in his frenzied state (and delirium from the pain) he did not have the slightest idea what to do now.
He needed help. That was the one thing on his mind. He was bleeding badly and would likely continue to pass out until he found help; he hadn't thought of it in the heat of the moment, but he knew now he wouldn't die – He couldn't, so long as Cyril was alive, and he couldn't think why Cyril would be in danger now.
But he had to get help. He felt lightheaded and thoroughly sick and could hardly think straight with the waves of agony surg
One Step Too Far"Something feels... off, today."
Jinx looked up from the shirt she was mending, glancing across the room to where Damian Nightfall was sitting. He had a fountain pen and an ink bottle, but his papers were blank; he hadn't quite decided what he was going to write just yet.
"What feels off?" Jinx asked him.
"...I'm not sure. It's nothing beyond an unpleasant premonition at the moment." Damian stated simply, dipping the pen into the ink.
"Every day is unpleasant premonitions with you around." Jinx mumbled, going back to her sewing.
"What was that, my love?" Damian looked up.
"Nothing at all." Jinx answered.
Damian seemed unsure, but went back to his writing anyway.
A sudden loud THUNK startled them both.
"...Was that... one of your experiments?" Jinx asked fearfully. She always hated to ask about the noises of the house; she'd heard screaming in the basements a few too many times as it was.
"I rather think not, we shouldn't be able to hear them from here... It sounded like... Mm..." Damia
Please Believe Me"Gavin. Gaaaviiinnn. Gav. Hey. Baby, wake up."
"Nnn...?" Gavin could feel Dreyden nuzzling his nose against his cheek.
"Hey." Dreyden smiled. Gavin blinked, waiting for his eyes to come into focus as he was waking up.
"Mm...hey." He smiled, nuzzling back.
"How ya feelin'?"
""m tired..." Gavin mumbled, burying his face in Dreyden's shoulder.
"Heh, yeah. I can see that. Stomach still buggin' you, though?" He wrapped his arms around Gavin, kissing his head.
"Nah, it's alright, I think... Did I fall asleep on you again, I'm sorry-"
Dreyden laughed. "You apologizin' for that? 's my favorite thing in the world when you do that."
Gavin blushed. "Oh, really-?"
"Jeeze, you're cute, do you do that on purpose-"
"Nnno I'm not...~" Gavin protested playfully.
"Yyyes you are." Dreyden answered back.
"Yes you are, and 'm gonna kiss you all over your face 'til you admit it, watch out-"
"Ah-! S-Stop! Dreyden!" Gavin laughed, pushing him away.
""Mornin' lovebirds!" Dan suddenly
Research at the Blue LibraryGavin excitedly ran after Midnight up the spiral staircase.
"How many books does your library have- are they all about magic and things like that?" Gavin asked nervously, trying to take Skye's word that Midnight wasn't someone to be afraid of.
"I don't know for certain. There are many books in our collection. Most are of magic, or of the Chronos Kingdom, or of Antis or things of that nature, but some are myth and legend, while some are mere fairytale fiction meant to entertain young ones." Midnight answered, still not looking back at Gavin.
"That's really neat! ...I really love your castle, by the way. Absolutely gorgeous, I wish I lived in a place like this." Gavin said, putting his hands in his pockets.
"It was a gift from our Mother and Father."
"Here." Midnight stopped before an elegantly carved wooden door. It had a vine pattern engraved all through it, and there were words written on the leaves in some ancient rune Gavin couldn't quite identify. He admired it quietly
Welcome to the CastleIt wasn't long before a gentle knock on the door announced Miss Shuri's arrival. Gavin hurried to answer it.
"Hello! Thank you so much for coming for me, I really appreciate this." Gavin said, grinning.
"It is of no trouble to me." Shuri smiled. "Hello, Dreyden." She looked past Gavin to wave to Dreyden, who was still lying on the couch.
"Hey." He waved back.
Kayzee was still hiding in the kitchen someplace.
"Are you ready to go, Mr. Garnet?" Shuri asked.
"Y-Yes, ma'am." Gavin nodded. "See you guys later!" He called back to his friends before hurrying out after Shuri.
"It is possible for us to use ordinary human transportation to reach the castle, but would take a considerable amount of time... Would you be comfortable with teleportation?" Shuri asked.
"Uhm- What does that... mean, exactly?" Gavin rubbed the back of his neck uncertainly.
"Take my hand and I'll bring you to where we need to go. As long as you hold on to me you can't be harmed and will arrive safely. It may be disorienti
Night ClubThe following takes place at some undetermined point in Malkin's past. I couldn't find a way to work it in in any kind of logical way, but this is something that happened.
The little night club was unusually crowded tonight. Malkin Erebus wandered in quietly, occasionally drawing back violently whenever anyone brushed against him, shooting them a brief look of disgust as he made his way into the room, slinking fluidly through the crowd as if he were hardly there.
He liked people, but hated crowds. The dense concentration of humans pressing in on him made him feel suffocated, and every smell and sound irritated him far more than they ordinarily would. But his curiosity got the best of him; he had to know why this usually ordinary club was suddenly so interesting to the humans tonight. What was it that was drawing so many in?
As he made his way closer, he caught the sound of a sensual female voice, singing. All the eyes of the men around him were fixed upon the beautiful woman
The Coffee GodThe Coffee God behind the counter shuffles foot to foot, a dance of steam and espresso. Black painted fingernails, inch gauged ears and a gray striped sweatshirt, hood crooked on his back. There's a cigarette tucked behind one ear; it bobs and twitches with each step.
“Non-fat caramel latte,” he calls, just as he always does, part of a spell, part of a mantra, toneless (just a tuck at the end). I reach. He looks up.
The espresso maker hisses.
There's something like a grin, something like a spark, something like a shared secret linked eye to eye. When he passes over the drink (rough cardboard sleeve hot to the touch), he lingers. Our fingers brush, a shiver, a jolt, a ten-watt shock.
The Coffee God tilts his chin, shouts, “Hey, mind if I take my break now?”
and ducks around the counter without waiting for a reply.
He slips his cigarette between his lips without taking his eyes from mine. I follow him out the door.
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