Holy shit, it's a table! I'm so alarmed!
Yup, it's more Duplicity. Taking me a while to get back into writing, but I'm getting there. So!
Contains angst, a cat, villainy of the very creepy kind, the aftermath of defeat, and Duplicity being kind of a fangirl.
10 - Protection
The cat turned up at his apartment building a couple days after he did. It was a big, gangly sort of cat, skinnier than it ought to be, and it gave him a calm gold-eyed stare as he kept coming up with the wrong key. It looked almost sad. Either that, or he was contagious.
He talks to the cat sometimes. It probably means he’s crazy. It probably keeps him from going even crazier.
The cat looks back at him sometimes, like it’s listening. That calm stare reminds him of… someone, and he’s not sure whether that’s a good thing. Sometimes he has to give up and look away.
But least the cat’s less skinny now, and off the streets. One last good deed. Apparently he can’t shake the habit.
11 - Possessions
They don’t own anything. Not officially, anyway.
Their usual hideout- the Magician refers to it as their Den of Vice, capital letters included- is a back-alley set of rooms that the landlord is kind enough to let them occupy, free of charge, no questions asked. Everything in it- the heavy curtains, the cushions lining the floor, the jewel-toned lampshades, the tall glass pipes- has been generously donated by members of the community. People just give them things.
And the people that stay with them, curled up sleeping on cushions or lazily smoking, surely they’re there of their own free will. Surely it’s nothing to do with the way the Magician smiles at them or that smooth undertone in his voice. When there are stretches they don’t remember, surely it’s just the drugs- all free, of course. The Devil has constructed bodies. A new one every week, sometimes. Surely he doesn’t need them.
They’ve left setups like this scattered all over the country. All over the world, really. Whenever they need to disappear, they just do. No need to take anything with them- it’ll be easy enough to get set up wherever they settle down next.
People are so generous.
12 - Joy
While we wait for the squad car, I pull the rest of my copies back in. I guess I could leave one out- probably no one would notice- but I haven’t really tested how long I can run a copy. Anyway, I think that’s cheating.
“You’re pretty good, kid,” says Amphion. He actually sounds a little winded, which I think I can call pretty impressive. “You telegraph your moves some. Clean that up, you’ll be hard to beat.”
“Really? You think so?” I try to grin back at him. It’s kind of hard with him holding my hands behind my back.
I’m not entirely sure, but I think he’s smiling back. “Professional opinion,” he says.
The squad car pulls up, navigating around the debris we left in the street. Amphion hands me off to the officer- looks like a rookie, patch on his uniform says his name’s Dulane. He’s pretty cute, really. Might as well do the villain thing right- I wink at him as he handcuffs me.
He’s good. He doesn’t even blush.
I lean over in the backseat, to where I can see his eyes in the rear-view mirror, and flash him a grin. “Penny for your thoughts, officer.”
“You do know you’re going to jail, right?” He frowns. So he’s not totally deadpan.
“Kinda caught that, yeah,” I say, holding up my handcuffed wrists.
“So what,” he says, “do you have to smile about?”
I know the grin on my face is more dorky-enthusiastic than villainous, but oh well. “That fight was awesome.”
Contains angst, a cat, villainy of the very creepy kind, the aftermath of defeat, and Duplicity being kind of a fangirl.
10 - Protection
The cat turned up at his apartment building a couple days after he did. It was a big, gangly sort of cat, skinnier than it ought to be, and it gave him a calm gold-eyed stare as he kept coming up with the wrong key. It looked almost sad. Either that, or he was contagious.
He talks to the cat sometimes. It probably means he’s crazy. It probably keeps him from going even crazier.
The cat looks back at him sometimes, like it’s listening. That calm stare reminds him of… someone, and he’s not sure whether that’s a good thing. Sometimes he has to give up and look away.
But least the cat’s less skinny now, and off the streets. One last good deed. Apparently he can’t shake the habit.
11 - Possessions
They don’t own anything. Not officially, anyway.
Their usual hideout- the Magician refers to it as their Den of Vice, capital letters included- is a back-alley set of rooms that the landlord is kind enough to let them occupy, free of charge, no questions asked. Everything in it- the heavy curtains, the cushions lining the floor, the jewel-toned lampshades, the tall glass pipes- has been generously donated by members of the community. People just give them things.
And the people that stay with them, curled up sleeping on cushions or lazily smoking, surely they’re there of their own free will. Surely it’s nothing to do with the way the Magician smiles at them or that smooth undertone in his voice. When there are stretches they don’t remember, surely it’s just the drugs- all free, of course. The Devil has constructed bodies. A new one every week, sometimes. Surely he doesn’t need them.
They’ve left setups like this scattered all over the country. All over the world, really. Whenever they need to disappear, they just do. No need to take anything with them- it’ll be easy enough to get set up wherever they settle down next.
People are so generous.
12 - Joy
While we wait for the squad car, I pull the rest of my copies back in. I guess I could leave one out- probably no one would notice- but I haven’t really tested how long I can run a copy. Anyway, I think that’s cheating.
“You’re pretty good, kid,” says Amphion. He actually sounds a little winded, which I think I can call pretty impressive. “You telegraph your moves some. Clean that up, you’ll be hard to beat.”
“Really? You think so?” I try to grin back at him. It’s kind of hard with him holding my hands behind my back.
I’m not entirely sure, but I think he’s smiling back. “Professional opinion,” he says.
The squad car pulls up, navigating around the debris we left in the street. Amphion hands me off to the officer- looks like a rookie, patch on his uniform says his name’s Dulane. He’s pretty cute, really. Might as well do the villain thing right- I wink at him as he handcuffs me.
He’s good. He doesn’t even blush.
I lean over in the backseat, to where I can see his eyes in the rear-view mirror, and flash him a grin. “Penny for your thoughts, officer.”
“You do know you’re going to jail, right?” He frowns. So he’s not totally deadpan.
“Kinda caught that, yeah,” I say, holding up my handcuffed wrists.
“So what,” he says, “do you have to smile about?”
I know the grin on my face is more dorky-enthusiastic than villainous, but oh well. “That fight was awesome.”