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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 21, 2013 13:42:21 GMT -8
May 9, 2013
Nolan cast an annoyed look at the dragonfly that buzzed around his shoulders, unwavering in his conviction and pleased that he was a thorn in the Irishman’s side.
“Master Cato, I’m sorry, but you’re going to have to stay out of sight,” he said. He wasn’t sorry at all, but he bent his tone to make it sound like there was a smidgen of disappointment in his voice. He couldn’t tell if he was doing well at tricking the bug, because he didn’t have any facial expressions to go by. Silent, Master Cato was just any other dragonfly.
Master Cato made a sound akin to a scoff—or at least, the best derisive sound a dragonfly could make.
“I’ll go where I want,” the dragonfly said. The hint of superiority in his voice was hard to miss. “Just remember that I hold your life in my hands.”
“You don’t have any hands.”
Master Cato was silent as Nolan coaxed his flowing hair into a ponytail. The buzzing of Master Cato’s wings was loud compared to the faint, musical notes that rolled off of a piano behind the double doors.
“Just stay out of sight. A dragonfly would likely only cause trouble.” Adjusting his bow tie, he plastered a smile on his face—so skilled was he in the art of smiling that even the most plastic could pass off as genuine. “Remember that I can literally squish you with one of my hands.”
“Excuse me? I could have my fa—”
But Nolan had already pushed open the double doors and was walking away, his smile faint, polite but bright, and his gait self-assured. His ponytail swished behind him.
Business was a little slow, and the number of people seated behind fancy red table covers was sparse. It was quiet, bar the murmuring of muted conversations. Occasionally, the tinkling, falsetto laughter of a rosy-cheeked mademoiselle would rise above the other voices.
“Can I take your order?” he asked as he reached the table of a brunette. Head tilted and pearly whites flashed, he stood erect, the epitome of a professional. Ever since he’d gotten the job, he was commended for his social skills and dexterity of an ancient kung fu master. The manager was still iffy about his unhealthy punctuality, but it didn’t prove too difficult for Nolan to handle.
That horrid buzzing floated into Nolan’s ears. His brow twitched.
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 21, 2013 15:24:30 GMT -8
tagged: nolan. time: may 9th, noon. notes: NOTES. It was rare that Eilia went out for food. She'd been taught to cook almost any meal she could reasonable be expected to cook, and she was more then able to cook for herself at home. She could prepare a whole variety of meals, and while she wasn't a chef, she was certainly more prepared for it then the average college student was. She could do everything short of all out grilling, and it meant she was a lot less dependent on fast food and restaurants then the average person.
Of course, that didn't mean she wasn't going to treat herself every once in a while. It simply meant she was going to have to go a bit more upscale. The average steakhouse wasn't going to give her anything she couldn't make at home without some preparation, which meant she was going to have to find a far more pricier place to eat. Le Cordon Rouge certainly fit the bill. It was both upscale and far pricier, and when she'd been seated (alone--the only person eating alone in the whole restaurant), she really had to wonder if she was the youngest person there who wasn't eating with their parents. It seemed like every other table had some kind of business meeting going on (not all of them pleasant), and she was doing her best not to stare.
She must have looked particularly out of place. Younger then the rest, plain looking, and while her attire could be considered acceptable, it wasn't nearly as fancy as most of the other patrons. Eating alone was bad enough, but the whole thing was just making her self conscious. That self consciousness got ratcheted up to eleven when she caught sight of the waiter heading towards her table. To say the least, he was attractive. He looked like a model, and if he claimed that being a waiter was his part time job between photoshoots, she wouldn't have doubted it for a second. She felt the tiniest bit of blush rising on her cheeks, and she tried to force it down as he greeted her.
She'd hardly looked at the menu, but she glanced over it briefly, not at all sure of what she wanted. She hesitated, glancing back up to him, and was thankfully (or not so thankfully, depending on how you looked at it) saved from having to stumble over the menu by a small droning sound. She paused, her own eyebrow raising as she leaned out from the chair slightly, staring at the bright orange dragonfly that was now buzzing around the waiters feet.
What.
"I... is that a dragonfly?" Bugs in a restaurant were generally bad, but that was normally referring to a fly, not a dragonfly the size of her hand. |
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 21, 2013 15:51:58 GMT -8
Nolan bit his lower lip, fighting the urge to crush Master Cato under his shiny black dress shoes. At the same time, he was torn between trying to explain the situation or ignore the dragonfly and try to coax an order out of the young woman so that he could initiate a hasty retreat towards the kitchen.
Nolan’s polite smile grew a little wider but, in doing so, a little more fake. He laced his hands together. The knuckles on his hands were white. And then his face fell to where Master Cato was floating above his toes.
“Oh.” Weaving a fine façade over his person, his eyes followed Master Cato with deceiving innocence, as if he’d just realized that there was an abomination hanging around his feet.
He stumbled back an awkward step, confused as to whether the action was a part of his ploy or genuine, and looked up to find the other customers engrossed in heated—however quiet—discussion or eyeing their plates with gusto.
At that moment, he decided he hated dragonflies.
“I, um . . . yes, I suppose it is.” He blinked, still trying to sell the innocent act. “It will be dealt with immediately. But . . . your order?”
How tempted he was to crush the dragonfly in the palm of his hand when Master Cato decided to rise until he was flying circles around his waist. He could only pray the woman wouldn’t scream.
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 21, 2013 15:57:51 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. Eilia simply didn't have enough experience with people like the waiter to know just how fake the smile was. She probably could have guessed if she thought about it (because anyone would probably be stressed in his situation), but for the moment she really wasn't thinking about it. It wasn't as if it was a particularly far fetched thing to realize that he was clearly trying to get out as fast as possible. She hesitated, eyes watching the dragonfly as it flitted around his feet, and her eyes only went up when he asked for her order.
Oh. Well then. It was hard to drag her eyes away from the dragonfly, or at least it had been hard, because the moment it decided to fly around the man's waist in a bizarre and downright confusing manner, she abruptly realized she was staring at a man's waist and tore her eyes away.
Menu, right. She skimmed it quickly, beyond overwhelmed by the whole thing. She always took her time with menus, but she didn't just want to say she needed time... which meant the old standby would have to come into play. "I think... whatever is good. Let the chef decide, or you decide. Whichever. I don't have any allergies." Which was probably a strange thing to add, but it was simply habit to get it out of the way, since most restaurants would make a point of asking.
At least she hadn't screamed, even if she kept stealing glances at the dragonflies bizarre behaviour.
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 21, 2013 16:52:34 GMT -8
The brunette had allowed him the honour of choosing her meal for the afternoon, and Master Cato was perched on his shoulder, beating his translucent wings in a grandiose display of triumph.
In public, Nolan tried his best to ignore the wide eyes, curious gazes and mocking sniggers, but Master Cato insisted on plucking raw nerves. He ground his teeth together, and his eyes shone with a dangerous light. The smile, however, never left his face.
“Of course,” he said, nodding with approval. He was just glad that she had decided to make a quick decision, and settled with ogling the dragonfly rather than shrieking. He was sure one of the plump ladies in the shimmering dresses would’ve. He could already imagine them slapping their cheeks, their bloated lips making a melodramatic O, an ear-piercing scream and a jobless Irishman.
Nolan made his way to the kitchen doors, pounding his heels into the maroon-coloured carpet. Master Cato buzzed behind him, pleased with his endeavours.
As the double doors swung shut behind Nolan, Master Cato began to talk, pompous and arrogant. Just like the round little men in their suits and ties, having debates over medium rare steak and red wine.
Nolan whirled around, silent and stealthy as a stalking panther, and reached out, grabbing the dragonfly. Master Cato squirmed in Nolan’s iron grasp. It felt disgusting, but he wasn’t about to let go. He forgot everything the giant bug had told him about their lives being tied together by a string of fate.
Grabbing the nearest bowl, he slammed it onto the cool, polished marble, leaving Master Cato inside. The silver bowl's clattering couldn't be heard over the thunder of kitchen business.
“Be quiet and please stop moving. You don’t want anybody to hear you,” he said, moving over to the sink. He let chilly water run over and in between his fingers, drowning out the sound of Master Cato flailing about. He’d just take the brunette’s orders and then leave. He’d take a vacation.
He was calmer the second time he passed through the double doors, holding a silver platter with delicate ease.
“Choucroute garnie. Chef’s finest,” he said, grinning at the brunette as he laid the plate before her, soundless. The dish’s French accent rolled off of Nolan’s tongue, smooth and exotic. “Sauerkraut with sausages, salt pork and potatoes, in case you were wondering.” The Irishman winked, feeling more like himself the longer he was away from the dragonfly. “Will you have anything else? Drinks?”
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 21, 2013 17:06:44 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. Even Eilia, as oblivious as she was, couldn't have possibly thought he was anything but annoyed. Sure, he kept smiling, but the bug was on him. He probably was going to smash it the moment he got out of sight, and simply didn't want to leave dead bug bits all over the restaurant (never mind how undignified it would have been to flail around swatting at bugs in front of customers). She kept waiting for the dragonfly to take off again, for it to go after someone else--perhaps fly over a table with a salad on it--but it didn't. It remained right where it was, riding the waiter like a beast of burden as he headed to the kitchen. Even when he did take off, the dragonfly simply kept close to the man, leaving Eilia beyond confused.
Maybe it was a pet? Only that was absurd. There was no way to train a bug the way someone could train a dog. She considered that he might have something on him that was attracting it, but that didn't make sense either. He wasn't covered in a salad, and there were so many other things that dragonfly could have taken an interest in and didn't. Why was it following him? Maybe he was't a model. Maybe he was some kind of dragonfly whisperer who dealt with them for a job, and now one had followed him to his other place of work.
Eilia had several minutes to think about it, and in the end she really didn't get anywhere. There simply wasn't an explanation that made any sort of sense beyond 'it just happened'. There was no point in trying to figure it out, because it didn't seem that there was anything to figure out. It was simply coincidence, and the bug was probably dead already, disposed of by the waiter when he was out of sight.
The food arrived quickly enough, and Eilia was slightly relieved to see no dragonfly in sight. Her suspicions were confirmed, and she tried not to focus too much on the french accent he put on. It was good. Good and very, very attractive, which was not the sort of thing you were supposed to think about a waiter pronouncing the name of a dish correctly. She was supposed to be focused on the food, and she eyed it, happy for the explanation. She was a good cook, but she was far from an exotic cook. She wasn't at all prepared for it, but she was certainly willing to try anything.
Drinks were a bit off, because alcohol was simply out of the question, even if it would have been appropriate with the meal. "I think water would do just fine, yes." She was half tempted to ask about the dragonfly, but that would probably have been considered rude. Better not to bring it up. |
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 22, 2013 11:25:00 GMT -8
MASTER CATO
Master Cato, if he could make a face, would have been wearing the ugliest of snarls. His wings beat with the fury of a storm, and he could feel the temperature inside the enclosed, dark space rising.
He was going to burn that stupid human. How dare he trap him inside a kitchen appliance? He was certain, in the little time that he’d been observing the modern world, that silver bowls were not meant to be cute little cages for large insects. He didn’t even want to order the human’s demise. He would do the dirty work himself.
The darkness was unsettling, the claustrophobic space too little for his versatile flying, and Master Cato’s patience was running thin.
I’ll wipe that arrogant smirk off of his ugly mask, he thought. I’m going to add a nice and large burn to that face he’s so proud of.
As soon as he’d decided to spew a flame into the darkness, the cage was lifted and Master Cato emerged from the bowl with terrifying speed. The man who’d taken the bowl stumbled onto his rear with a startled yelp, ogling the giant dragonfly that hovered above him.
Another waiter was already pushing the double doors open, and before the chef on the ground could stop it, Master Cato was already bursting into the restaurant.
NOLAN
“Water? Right away,” he said, smiling like it was the best choice in the world. His eyes glinted, and the plastic smile that wore down his visage seemed to relax the longer he stayed away from Master Cato.
He stepped away from the table, offering the young woman a small, courteous bow and turned to fetch a glass of water.
The buzzing was back.
There was no change in expression on his face, but Nolan’s heart skipped a beat. How did the insect escape from the silver prison? And then his face fell. The kitchen staff most likely had something to do with it.
“You’ll pay for that,” a voice whispered into his mind, so sudden that even Nolan couldn’t help but jump a little bit. The orange dragonfly was like a neon light against his uniform, and just as suddenly, Master Cato zipped towards the table the woman was sitting at.
Nolan watched, with horror, as the red table cover was set alight. It started small, but the flames ate up the oxygen around it at an incredible pace, and soon the whole table would be a grandiose display of crackling orange. From somewhere across the room, somebody screamed.
“Fire!”
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 22, 2013 12:03:44 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. Water. Just water. That had been all she wanted. A nice little drink to go with her meal (which looked delicious, even if she'd never get to eat it). It hadn't seemed like too much to ask, and yet it seemed like fate had another thing in mind.
He'd taken her drink order, and then they'd both heard it--the buzzing was back. The dragonfly (or perhaps a similar one just like it) was back, and as she watched, it zipped right over the waiters shoulder, right towards her. For a brief second, Eilia was sort of relieved. Apparently the man wasn't the only thing attracting dragonflies. Maybe they were flying around. Maybe it was going for her food.
What happened next was impossible for her to process. The dragonfly shot towards her--and then the table was on fire. In the time it took for her to blink it was catching, and she jerked back, nearly falling out of her chair as it went up in flames. She heard someone else scream, and lost critical seconds trying to process it.
Was it actually happening? Or was she hallucinating? If it was a hallucination, it was a complete one. She could hear the fire crackling, could feel the heat on her skin. It would have been the first time she'd had a complete hallucination in years, and the idea of it was enough to bring fear to her face that hadn't been there at the first sight of the fire. The dragonfly was well out of her thoughts, as was the waiter himself, and she shoved the chair back, retreating from the table as the smoke started to billow up, the table good and truly on fire as she retreated.
It had to be the one table. There was no way the rest of the restaurant would go. Someone would come with an extinguisher, and then maybe she'd have calmed down enough to figure out what had just happened. |
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 22, 2013 12:45:09 GMT -8
MASTER CATO
Master Cato wasn’t finished. After the flickering flames grew and came to life, the dragonfly’s bright wings carried him to another table. He settled on a clean napkin, his large insect body radiating with heat. It wasn’t intense, but it was enough to start a little fire that would grow, thanks to the plethora of flammable objects.
He hoped the stupid human was watching him with his jaw unhinged. He was having the time of his life, and the joy that threatened to filter through his expressionless mask was almost unbearable.
His energy was limited, but he knew that the fire would grow, until the whole building was sizzling with great, orange flames. He attached himself to a large curtain that spanned an entire wall, and produced a flame that raced in all directions. The size of the curtain would seal the fate of Le Cordon Rouge.
The dragonfly eyed Nolan and the young woman with malicious intent.
NOLAN
Nolan was in action almost as soon as the fire had begun. He grabbed the young woman by the wrist, the cheerful glint in his eyes dulled.
“Please come with me,” he said. His voice was low and steady, as if to ease the young woman into submission. Beads of sweat were already beginning to appear on his forehead, and he prayed that he looked calm to the young brunette. He needed to ensure the woman wouldn’t make the connection between Nolan and the dragonfly. It was unlikely, but he liked to be certain.
Murky black smoke was beginning to collect at the ceiling, and people were pushing past each other to get to the door. Somewhere, a woman was shrieking for her purse—probably stolen in the chaos—and an anxious man on the phone sprinted past the pair.
I really am going to crush that dragonfly under my foot, he thought, as he tried to usher the woman towards the kitchen. He could see that the entrance was blocked—the large curtain that hung over the mahogany double doors had fallen in front of it, sizzling with hungry flames.
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 22, 2013 12:55:16 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. The waiter did look calm. The waiter was just acting like there wasn't a wall of flames starting to billow up, and she could feel herself start to sweat as the flames leapt higher. She glanced briefly around, spotting the curtains--now on fire--and for a brief moment thought she saw the dragonfly resting there in the flames. He wasn't burning, he was just resting there, as if totally immune to the fire that was engulfing him.
The hand on her wrist drew her attention away, and her eyes flicked down to the hand on her wrist, eyes watering. She didn't think to protest as he guided her away from the burning table, and a brief glance to the door told her that she was right. People were crushing against the door, trying to get out, and the curtains were going up in a blaze, blocking the exit. People were screaming, and she swallowed hard, trying to keep up with the waiter as he guided her into the kitchens.
"It's really happening, isn't it? The restaurant is on fire." She blurted out as they passed through the doors. It must have seemed to Nolan to be a bizarre question, horribly out of place considering the severity of the situation, but for Eilia it was just another way to reassure herself that it was happening--that she wasn't hallucinating the whole thing, and was actually on the floor having a breakdown over it.
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 22, 2013 13:58:42 GMT -8
NOLAN
Nolan blinked. “Yes. It is,” he said, weaving through the crazed people. A few bodies lay sprawled on the carpet, and others were frantic in their search for an alternative exit. Everybody had hands and napkins covering their mouths.
At least there weren’t many people in the restaurant to begin with, he thought. An unoccupied hand swept a strand of damp hair out of his eyes, behind his ears, and pushed open a door that led into the kitchen.
Inside the kitchen, it was much calmer, and considerably cooler, although everybody had come to an abrupt stop as they listened to the screaming coming from the restaurant. One man was on the floor, eyes wide as he stared up at the Irishman.
Buzzing.
Nolan whirled around and was eye to buggy eye with the dragonfly that had started it all.
MASTER CATO
Master Cato hovered in front of the human’s face. His eyes were strange, iridescent silver. Or maybe it was a dull grey. The dragonfly couldn’t tell. All he knew was that he loathed them.
There was havoc to be wrecked, the kitchen just waiting to be eaten by monster flames. But the dragonfly’s attention was on the woman that the man-human held. He was curious. He wanted to play with her.
The stupid human was wearing a mask over his real expression, the dragonfly knew, but the intent behind it was unmistakable. It sizzled and crackled with malevolence, and the dragonfly knew that he was treading a thin line. But that only spurred him on.
He landed on the woman’s shoulder, aware of the stupid human’s glare. And he whispered to her.
“Greetings. My name is Master Cato. Tell me: Should I burn you alive?”
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 22, 2013 14:33:12 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. She wasn't holding onto anything. She wished she was. It would have given her something to cling to, something to ground her. She coughed as they went, eyes burning as smoke filled the air, and the kitchen itself seemed far calmer and safer then it had outside. There was a fire, and it seemed that most of the people in the kitchen didn't even know. It hadn't been terribly busy to begin with, and she doubted that any of the customers had thought to flee away from the exit towards the kitchen, even if it was almost guaranteed there'd be an exit back there. People didn't think rationally during a crisis, and Eilia was hardly any different. If the waiter hadn't grabbed her, she probably would have rushed the front just like everyone else.
She might very well have ended up dead.
It seemed like they were in the home stretch when they were in the kitchens. It couldn't have been far from the door, and it was only when the droning buzz came again that she realized they weren't getting out so easily. The dragonfly zipped forward, and she froze, shooting a tiny glance towards the waiter, who was still. He wasn't acting like the dragonfly was there at all, and it was at that point where she started to really, honestly suspect that she had lost it.
She'd spent almost her entire life waiting for another hallucination. She'd had little ones--ones that might have been hallucinations, or might have not been--but she'd never had a break from reality as severe as the first one. The whole thing was odd, and her doctors had always chalked it up to medication and therapy keeping it under control. It was only her new therapist who thought otherwise--who thought that it must have been something else, something physical that had caused the first break. So he had insisted on slowly dialing back her medication, trying to see if Eilia's symptoms would return.
Eilia had been convinced she was fine. That she'd returned to normalcy. That she would be able to manage just fine on her own in the real world.
That all came crashing down when the bug settled on her shoulder and started to talk to her. She knew then that it wasn't real--that there probably wasn't anything there at all, and that any reaction she saw in the waiter was probably her own mind playing tricks on her. Her hand pulled away from him, and she buried her face in her hands, trying frantically to calm herself down, unable to tell what was real. The bug wasn't. Was the fire? Was that even happening?
"It's not real. It's not." It was little over a whisper, barely audible over the noise from the dining room. |
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 22, 2013 15:40:11 GMT -8
MASTER CATO
“This is all very real,” he said, allowing his tiny, breathy voice to reverberate throughout the corners of the young woman’s mind. His sunny-coloured wings twitched with dark intent. “Would you like me to prove it to you?”
Heat began to radiate from the small dragonfly’s body. Master Cato beat his wings, reeling with inexplicable wonder. Humans were so . . . fragile.
NOLAN
The young woman was crouched against a counter, her face buried in cupped hands, while Master Cato was perched on her shoulder. He was probably saying terrible things to her.
Nolan’s eyes scanned the room. The kitchen staff stared at him, their expressions an impressive amalgamation of confusion, fear and pity for the woman who was at Nolan’s feet, on the verge of tears. The room was very still, contrary to the unfolding discord behind the double doors.
And then a man burst in, screaming. “There’s a fire!”
All at once, the kitchen staff rolled into a frenzy of action, uncoordinated and clumsy. There wasn’t any time to worry about a man speaking to a hyperventilating woman and a bright orange dragonfly.
Nolan crouched beside the young woman and placed a heavy hand on her shoulder, giving her a gentle shake. He didn’t need her coherent. In fact, it was good that she didn’t have a firm grasp on reality—it made it easier for him to convince her that Master Cato wasn’t actually talking to her.
The man on the floor had crawled to where the pair crouched. “Your lady friend . . . is she all right?”
“She’s perfectly fine,” he said, his tone wintry and unforgiving. He hardly acknowledged the man’s presence. The man, sensing Nolan’s severity, crawled away.
Nolan leaned in, his face inches from hers. “Hey. Are you all right?”
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 22, 2013 17:14:34 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. Eilia needed no convincing that the dragonfly on her shoulder wasn't real. She'd already decided that the moment he'd spoken to her, and every word spoken by the dragonfly only served to reinforce that. He was going to prove he was real. She knew how they worked, knew little things they'd say, had been told it all, but in the end that didn't stop the slowly growing heat on her shoulder. It was just warm at first--and soon it was rapidly burning her shoulder as she tried frantically to ignore the pain and distress.
She was really only dimly aware that the waiter was still there. Everything else had taken a second seat to her own hallucination. It was impossible to tell what was real and what she was hallucinating, and it would only be later (if she got out, assuming the building was actually on fire) that she'd be able to verify what was and what wasn't real. There was chaos around her, and the shake drew her out of her own self-absorbed state briefly, eyes glancing up, her shoulder feeling like it was on fire, even if it wasn't quite there yet.
"I -" She hesitated, trying frantically to find the words. To him, she must have seemed crazy. "I don't know what's happening. My shoulder hurts and things are on fire and I don't -" She just didn't know what was real, and the whole thing was pushing her perilously close to a full out panic attack. She was already starting to edge towards hyperventilating, breathing slowly becoming erratic as the situation pressed down on her.
She didn't respond to the bug on her shoulder. Why would she? Acknowledging something like 'the bug was talking' was simply a fast way to have herself ostracized. Assuming there was some real danger--that it was really on fire--she might simply be a normal person freaking out over the danger, rather then a crazy person who was losing their mind in the middle of a crisis.
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Sept 25, 2013 14:31:04 GMT -8
NOLAN
Two firm hands clamped down on Eilia’s shoulders, giving her a gentle shake as Nolan let out smooth, insincere assurances flow out from his mouth. A pained smile had spread across his face, and he was afraid he wouldn’t be able to pretend to be calm any longer.
The kitchen was heating up, and the stomping of feet against the tiles of the kitchen made his heart race. Sweat ran down the sides of his face. The thought of abandoning the woman and saving himself crossed his mind once or twice, but the stupid dragonfly was intent on making her day more miserable than it could already be. They’d already hit rock bottom, and now Master Cato insisted on drilling through bedrock to reach the depths of hell.
“The restaurant is on fire, so we better leave. Quickly. Please, get up.”
MASTER CATO
“I can put you on fire,” he said into her mind, his breathy whispers like the faint tendrils of a heavy mist. “I can make you cry. Why don’t you ask your friendly waiter? He knows.”
If he could, he would have been wearing the most malicious of grins as he allowed the tiniest of flames to latch onto the woman's shirt.
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Sept 25, 2013 17:49:12 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. If Eilia had been calm and rational, she probably would have enjoyed that someone who looked like Nolan did was so worried for her. It was the dream of many a teenage girl to have someone like him worried over them, and Eilia wasn't much past her teens at all. Unfortunately, she also wasn't calm or rational at the moment. She was panicked, pushed close to hyperventilation by the panic, and close to breathless by the smoke. It was making breathing terribly difficult, but she was still lucid enough to understand what he was saying.
Get up. She had to get up and leave, or else she was going to die. She could only assume that much was real, that there really was a fire, and she pushed herself upright, bracing herself against the wall. She needed her medication--she could double up and hopefully ease the symptoms before making an emergency call to her therapist, but she rapidly realized that wasn't going to be an option--her purse had been left behind when she'd fled the front room, and there would be no going back for it.
She was abruptly distracted from her thoughts by a spike of pain in her shoulder, glancing down to see that her shirt was on fire. It was just the edge, but it was enough to send her into a brief panic as she swung her hand, aiming to pat it out forcibly. The fact that the dragonfly was in the way didn't bother her--as far as she was concerned, he didn't exist.
"We - lets go." She said, coughing midway through but otherwise ready to go. |
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Oct 1, 2013 15:54:05 GMT -8
MASTER CATO
His translucent wings fluttered before he launched himself from the woman’s shoulder, buzzing circles around the Irishman’s head before perching himself on his shoulder, radiating the air proper to a prince of his status.
“I like this one,” he said, shivering with anticipation, despite the dense heat that left the Irishman breathing heavily. Master Cato was attracted to the woman’s fear. It pulled him to her like a moth to a beacon of light in the dead of the night. He feasted upon her panic. “Human, get her for me. Or I’ll burn you.”
NOLAN
Nolan ground his teeth together and resisted the urge to roll his eyes heavenward, despite the pressing situation that spurred his heart to beat at unhealthy levels.
“No,” he said between clenched teeth. A flash of vibrant red speared his vision, followed by a spasm of pain that suspiciously originated from the dragonfly’s location on his shoulder.
With a grunt, he brought up a hand and began to slap it down onto his shoulder. With a little luck, he’d turn his palm upward to see the remains of an annoying little bug, but he was already buzzing away to safety. After reducing the pain to a dull, hot ache, he nodded at the woman. The exit was in plain sight—only a few paces away from where they stood. But it seemed so far away.
“Please. Follow me.” His gentlemanly façade was wearing down at a terrifying place. As his feet began to push for the exit, he thought he saw Master Cato attaching himself to Eilia once more.
MASTER CATO
“You won’t be able to ignore me for very long,” he said, launching the disturbing thought into her mind—inserted amongst a thousand thoughts warring for attention, he assumed. “Soon. You’ll see.”
Or maybe she wouldn't. A dark chuckle echoed within the bounds of Eilia’s mind.
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Post by EILIA TIFIEL on Oct 1, 2013 17:46:15 GMT -8
tagged: name. time: date & time. notes: NOTES. She was only half aware of what the waiter was doing. She wasn't coherent enough to work out that he'd spoken to nothing and slapped at what she could only imagine was air. What was real and what wasn't was a line so blurry she had no idea when she'd stepped over it. How far back? Had the bug ever existed? Maybe the waiter didn't. Maybe she was alone in a raging inferno, the place burning down around her. Or maybe the fire wasn't real. Maybe she'd never gone out for lunch, never gotten a job. Maybe it was all imaginary.
Once you started down that train of thought, there wasn't any coming back from it.
She practically clung to his back as they went for the exit, afraid that if she stepped away she'd lose sight of him. What if she lost him in the fire? Then she'd really be alone. She'd fall behind and die in the fire, unable to tell which way was out.
Years later, Eilia would realize just how silly she was being. She was afraid, yes, but she wasn't actually hallucinating--she was just convinced that she was, that she had lost her mind and was going to die in the fire. She could still see the exit, and while she was coughing from the smoke and burn on her shoulder, there was nothing to stop her from reaching the exit.
Nothing except for a certain bug. The moment the dragonfly spoke into her mind, she lurched foward, practically running into Nolan's back as she grabbed the back of his jacket, afraid that she'd lost her mind even more. She was still ignoring the big though--there was no point in speaking back to something that didn't exist.
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Post by NOLAN SHILOH on Oct 5, 2013 11:32:12 GMT -8
When the woman wrenched her hands into the back of his jacket, he froze.
The moment was fleeting, like the passing of a thundering train, but Nolan’s breath was caught in his throat and his mind blanked. He would reason to himself later that it was the dense tendrils of smoky death. At the moment, however, he was still—an ice statue at the core of a flaming tornado.
And then the moment passed.
He composed himself and, gathering his thoughts, ushered the woman out the kitchen door.
Once outside, he gasped, greedy for fresh air. The obnoxious wail of police sirens was tremendously loud now, and he pressed a hand against his head, as if he could cease the sound of his heart throbbing in his ears.
First the party, and now this. Once Death stopped raging after him with a scythe in hand, he was going to drink himself to eternal slumber.
With fresh oxygen came with clarity of mind, to a certain degree. He, however, knew that getting away was the most important thing. His hands gently extracted the woman’s iron grip from his jacket. He didn’t say anything until just before he ran off.
“Stupid dragonflies.” And then he was gone.
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REITGERTE
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Post by REITGERTE on Oct 17, 2013 9:40:47 GMT -8
| | | Finished Thread
You have been rewarded with ONE RESIDUE as this thread is now complete. It has been placed in the archives under the 'finished' sub-board. You are more than welcome to PM fate if this thread is not finished or if you are unhappy/unsatisfied with the amount of residue that has been rewarded. Keep up the great work and keep posting with other members.
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