_BB_
Resident Bard
So rehearsal tomorrow was probably going to be cancelled.
Callie's hands clenched into fists, still humming with a swirling hint of something barely tangible. She resisted the urge to slam her back against a wall and slip away into the shadows. It was a combination of years living in the city, and years watching cop shows. There was nothing more conspicuous than running away. And besides, those dark corners she wanted to hide in were likely already occupied by people she certainly did not want to mingle with.
So instead she forced herself to walk slowly down the main street with her hands shoved into her pockets. She had to keep her heart rate down. She had to keep her breaths calm and even. She had to ignore the prickling on the back of her neck and the fact that she'd forgotten to bring her coat. That would be conspicuous if it got any colder than this. She should go back and get her coat. She couldn't, of course, but she should. There were a few others things she needed to pick up from home as well. She couldn't. Maybe the shops would still be open in the morning.
She walked. Silently. Alone.
None of this made sense. She didn't get it, yet. Was there a punchline in here somewhere? Was there some trick to this where she had the power to get herself out of this and not just power to get herself evicted from her family? Some version where she could just go home and get into bed and read comics and go to sleep?
But no. That wasn't what was going to happen tonight.
She walked.
Idly, she noted that she had no idea where she was going, but frankly, it didn't matter. She just knew she couldn't stop moving. Her eyes were wide, drilling into the pavement ahead of her, her head down so no-one saw the absolute shock and blind panic. That would probably be suspicious. Her hands, clenched so tight, still felt as though they were grasping at the air, like she couldn't close them properly, like she was trying to squeeze mercury. And they still shone. Just a little. Momentum was pushing her forward, her feet moving without her telling them to do anything. She just knew that if she stopped, she wouldn't get started again. She didn't know where she was going, but she couldn't stay here. They'd find her soon, if she didn't keep moving.
Who would? Oh, right. Police. Anti-magic sorts. There were plenty of them around, and with her hands glowing and the story going around town, that was enough.
Of course, maybe they were right. The story was true, after all. Callie had just nearly blown up her own home. She'd nearly killed her mother. Not on purpose, of course, but it had happened. She'd been scared, startled, by...something. She couldn't remember what. She couldn't remember much. She really should go back and get her coat. Her feet turned her halfway around before she remembered again that she couldn't.
She stopped.
A ragged intake of breath launched her backwards, scrambling for something to support her as her legs fell out from beneath her. Her hands met something rough, and solid, and she didn't have time to figure out what it was before her back slammed into it, and she skidded down it to the ground. She couldn't go home. It wasn't even hers. She had never belonged there.
Angry shouts, faces screwed up with rage, terrified wide eyes in tiny faces, they all pressed down on her, all to the backdrop of the air around her singing a symphony, lights and beauty and magic dancing in every corner of her kitchen while her mother pulled herself up with the counter, blood dripping from her head.
"Get out! You tricked us, you magical whore! You have never been my daughter, j ust changeling trash that wormed its way into my home! Get out of my house!"
Callie knew she wasn't breathing right. Her breaths were coming too fast, or too often, or not enough. Something. Her head was spinning, as though the ground she'd fallen onto was trying to tip her off it, and tears were flooding her face entirely unbidden. She gasped as a particularly violent sob tore through her, biting her hand to stifle any more noise as a passerby glanced over at her. They grabbed their partner, pulling them away from her, and Callie vaguely saw why as she realised she was glowing. An aura of something slippery and hard to maneuver was radiating from her skin. It wasn't just her hands.
But she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't even get her lungs to get air in and out properly right now. She scrambled to the side, moving deeper into the alley, deeper into the shadows, despite knowing it made her shine all the brighter. She fell around a corner, bringing her knees up to her chest and curling as tight as she possibly could while her chest heaved. Her body was out of her control, and the light was flowing off her now, becoming more angular, more violent as she panicked, each sob accompanied by a dancing spear of light that shot into the darkness.
How had this happened? She was a perfectly average person. She wasn't made to defend herself against magical attacks from her own body. She didn't know how to run from the cops she didn't even remember her sister calling. She had rehearsal in the morning. How this all gone so badly, so quickly?
"Well it's good to see you already know where you belong."
Callie's head shot up. Three dark shadows loomed above her. Older than her by a decade at least, bigger than her by double. Grinning. Drunk. Leering. Callie didn't even think about it. She scrambled backwards, screaming. She had never been big. She was a ballerina for god's sake. She wasn't meant to be big.
A laugh, and a shadow shifted, rushing towards her. Callie had scrambled as far as she could. Slamming her eyes closed, she cringed into herself, and was met with silence.
Her eyes snapped open, something in the air around her telling her something was wrong. The shadows were still there, but they weren't shadows anymore. Just men. Men blinking around the alley, brows furrowed, shaking their heads to clear them, clearly trying to figure out why they couldn't remember what they were doing.
Callie pulled back on something she had never pulled back on before, pure, primal instinct sending all the light dancing through the shadows back into her, like a jolt of adrenaline. She ran, stumbling as she sprinted out of the alley, into the open street.
She'd walked here plenty of times. This was her hometown. She didn't exactly make a habit of walking the streets at night, but she knew the seven eleven on the corner and the bar across the street. This was her town, but tonight it could have been from a storybook. Every person, every shadow, was suspect. She ran madly up the street, sprinting blocks, energy filling her from god knows where. Well, she had her suspicions where it was coming from, but she didn't want to think about that right now. Instead, she took shortcuts and back ways and ended up a long way away from where she'd lost those creeps. Head pounding, breath coming even wilder now she had none of it, she doubled over, coughing, eyes squeezed shut.
"You'll make good trade in the Third Circle."
Callie tried to shoot straight to standing, but didn't quite manage it. One hand kept her balance against the wall, the other warding away the stranger. She knew she couldn't run this time, and to her dismay, light began pooling in her outstretched hand, slipping across it like mercury.
The stranger, now lit by her light, held his hands up, making no move towards her. He smiled. "Just telling you what they're going to be saying."
Callie panted, silent, breath still coming erratically. The light kept pooling, and she could see his features in it, round face contoured by shadows thrown from her hand. He had a scraggly sort of beard, warm, hazel eyes, and a far too comfortable way about him. He was squatter than she had thought, not very tall. His hair was dark brown, a little curly at the ends. He looked a little unkempt, as though he had been up all night in an office job, his loose tie and hefty coat helping that image. All in all, he wasn't the most imposing figure.
"What who are going to be saying?" Callie asked.
The man smiled at her again, and against her better will, Callie felt herself relaxing, just a little. It was a good smile. "You're fresh off the presses, aren't you?" he asked, but thankfully didn't seem to want a response. He held her gaze, hands still in the air, but moved a couple of easy steps closer, bringing himself into the street with her. Out of prying eyes. Callie tensed, the light in her hand flaring, but the man stopped once he was out of sight of the next street, within easy talking distance. He didn't seem scared of her. Well. He did. He was obviously wary, but he wasn't...scared. That was novel. Callie didn't exactly have much experience with this yet, but thus far, abject terror and disgust had been a pretty key reaction. This man didn't seem inclined towards either of those. So either he was stupid, crazy, or a very good actor. Still, the light in Callie's hand dimmed down just a little. Back from its flare-up.
"You just find out about this?" he asked.
Callie gave a single, tense nod. She knew she shouldn't be talking to him, but the panic was rising in her, compounded by the knowledge that panic would send that magic flaring up and away again. And she desperately wanted help. And really, how much worse could the situation get?
"Your parents kick you out?"
Callie paused, but nodded. She'd already committed here. "How-" she started, voice cracking. She cleared her throat, swallowing, and tried again. "How did you know that?"
He spread his hands out, still holding her eyes. "Just a guess. Another guess, if you'll let me," He paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for Callie's nod. "You're a changeling?"
Tears flooded Callie's eyes, dropping straight to her chin without the bother of her having a chance to stop them. She nodded, and a sob escaped into the night, but she held her stance. Her hand wavered, and her light flickered and flared, but she held it.
The man winced, taking another step closer. "That's rough." In her light, Callie saw his eyes. They hadn't left hers this whole time. And they were devastated. There was a deep sadness there, all for her. Even in her panic, she saw it, and against her will, her shoulders relaxed. Her breath came a little easier. There was every chance he was here to harm her, but maybe, just maybe he was here to help. Not everyone could be against her.
"They call the cops on you?" he asked, and Callie nodded. "How long ago?"
Callie shook her head. "I don't-I-I don't-"
The man nodded, stepping closer and taking his coat off. "That's alright. You're in shock, there's no way you could know."
Callie shot back into defence mode, but the man just took off his inner jacket and handed it over.
He glanced at her face and shrugged. "What? You're not getting my coat. I like this coat, and it's like, twenty sizes too big for you."
Callie blinked. Was he really offering her his jacket?
The man smiled again. "I promise it's not booby trapped."
Why the hell not? Callie took it, forcing her slightly shaking arms into it.
"Try not to burn it with fairy magic or whatever it is you've got going on there," the man added.
Starting at the casual mention of her magic, Callie nonetheless did as she was told. Magic. She had magic now. Apparently she had always had it. She didn't want to think about that. The jacket hung down almost to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up, but god was it warm.
The man shrugged his coat back on and held a hand out. "I'm Leo," he said. "I was leaving work, and spotted you doing your little light show. Thought I'd come say hello. So. Hello."
"Callie." Her name couldn't do that much damage, right? Still, Callie felt reluctant to give it away so easily. It was all she had left. "Hi."
Leo nodded. "You got anywhere to go?"
Swallowing past the hard knot in her throat, Callie shook her head. Her breath was evening out, her trembles subsiding as the jacket leant her warmth. It had come to her pre-warmed. "No. I don't have any money or..." she trailed off. Anything. She didn't have anything.
Leo squeezed her hand before he let go. "That's alright, Callie. You aren't the only one this has happened to. I'd like to take you to the others, if you want that."
Did she want that? On the surface of it, it seemed like she was being given some kind of golden chance. But there was every possibility that Leo was just going to take her to some magic trafficking ring. "How do I know you aren't a bad guy?" she asked. As her panic was fading, exhaustion was setting in, and she lacked the energy to even wish she'd said that a bit more like an adult.
Leo smiled. "You really can't. I can give you my word on it if you want, but I'm a journalist, so most people don't bother."
Callie smiled a little despite herself.
"Besides, if you panic, I'm pretty sure we both blow up or I end up mindless in a ditch somewhere, so I'd say that's pretty good insurance."
Well. She couldn't argue with that. And frankly, even if he was a creep, maybe she'd get to sleep in the car on the way to his horror mansion or wherever it was those guys lived.
Leo shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his head towards the street. "Come on. You're about to fall asleep on your feet. Let me drive you into the creepy woods and I can lecture you on magic rights until you pass out."
"Why not," Callie said. "At least I'll get a nap."
Snorting, Leo gestured the way out. "After you then."
Ten minutes later, Callie was on her way to the edge of the woods outside the city, fast asleep in the passenger seat of a stranger.
Callie's hands clenched into fists, still humming with a swirling hint of something barely tangible. She resisted the urge to slam her back against a wall and slip away into the shadows. It was a combination of years living in the city, and years watching cop shows. There was nothing more conspicuous than running away. And besides, those dark corners she wanted to hide in were likely already occupied by people she certainly did not want to mingle with.
So instead she forced herself to walk slowly down the main street with her hands shoved into her pockets. She had to keep her heart rate down. She had to keep her breaths calm and even. She had to ignore the prickling on the back of her neck and the fact that she'd forgotten to bring her coat. That would be conspicuous if it got any colder than this. She should go back and get her coat. She couldn't, of course, but she should. There were a few others things she needed to pick up from home as well. She couldn't. Maybe the shops would still be open in the morning.
She walked. Silently. Alone.
None of this made sense. She didn't get it, yet. Was there a punchline in here somewhere? Was there some trick to this where she had the power to get herself out of this and not just power to get herself evicted from her family? Some version where she could just go home and get into bed and read comics and go to sleep?
But no. That wasn't what was going to happen tonight.
She walked.
Idly, she noted that she had no idea where she was going, but frankly, it didn't matter. She just knew she couldn't stop moving. Her eyes were wide, drilling into the pavement ahead of her, her head down so no-one saw the absolute shock and blind panic. That would probably be suspicious. Her hands, clenched so tight, still felt as though they were grasping at the air, like she couldn't close them properly, like she was trying to squeeze mercury. And they still shone. Just a little. Momentum was pushing her forward, her feet moving without her telling them to do anything. She just knew that if she stopped, she wouldn't get started again. She didn't know where she was going, but she couldn't stay here. They'd find her soon, if she didn't keep moving.
Who would? Oh, right. Police. Anti-magic sorts. There were plenty of them around, and with her hands glowing and the story going around town, that was enough.
Of course, maybe they were right. The story was true, after all. Callie had just nearly blown up her own home. She'd nearly killed her mother. Not on purpose, of course, but it had happened. She'd been scared, startled, by...something. She couldn't remember what. She couldn't remember much. She really should go back and get her coat. Her feet turned her halfway around before she remembered again that she couldn't.
She stopped.
A ragged intake of breath launched her backwards, scrambling for something to support her as her legs fell out from beneath her. Her hands met something rough, and solid, and she didn't have time to figure out what it was before her back slammed into it, and she skidded down it to the ground. She couldn't go home. It wasn't even hers. She had never belonged there.
Angry shouts, faces screwed up with rage, terrified wide eyes in tiny faces, they all pressed down on her, all to the backdrop of the air around her singing a symphony, lights and beauty and magic dancing in every corner of her kitchen while her mother pulled herself up with the counter, blood dripping from her head.
"Get out! You tricked us, you magical whore! You have never been my daughter, j ust changeling trash that wormed its way into my home! Get out of my house!"
Callie knew she wasn't breathing right. Her breaths were coming too fast, or too often, or not enough. Something. Her head was spinning, as though the ground she'd fallen onto was trying to tip her off it, and tears were flooding her face entirely unbidden. She gasped as a particularly violent sob tore through her, biting her hand to stifle any more noise as a passerby glanced over at her. They grabbed their partner, pulling them away from her, and Callie vaguely saw why as she realised she was glowing. An aura of something slippery and hard to maneuver was radiating from her skin. It wasn't just her hands.
But she couldn't do anything about it. She couldn't even get her lungs to get air in and out properly right now. She scrambled to the side, moving deeper into the alley, deeper into the shadows, despite knowing it made her shine all the brighter. She fell around a corner, bringing her knees up to her chest and curling as tight as she possibly could while her chest heaved. Her body was out of her control, and the light was flowing off her now, becoming more angular, more violent as she panicked, each sob accompanied by a dancing spear of light that shot into the darkness.
How had this happened? She was a perfectly average person. She wasn't made to defend herself against magical attacks from her own body. She didn't know how to run from the cops she didn't even remember her sister calling. She had rehearsal in the morning. How this all gone so badly, so quickly?
"Well it's good to see you already know where you belong."
Callie's head shot up. Three dark shadows loomed above her. Older than her by a decade at least, bigger than her by double. Grinning. Drunk. Leering. Callie didn't even think about it. She scrambled backwards, screaming. She had never been big. She was a ballerina for god's sake. She wasn't meant to be big.
A laugh, and a shadow shifted, rushing towards her. Callie had scrambled as far as she could. Slamming her eyes closed, she cringed into herself, and was met with silence.
Her eyes snapped open, something in the air around her telling her something was wrong. The shadows were still there, but they weren't shadows anymore. Just men. Men blinking around the alley, brows furrowed, shaking their heads to clear them, clearly trying to figure out why they couldn't remember what they were doing.
Callie pulled back on something she had never pulled back on before, pure, primal instinct sending all the light dancing through the shadows back into her, like a jolt of adrenaline. She ran, stumbling as she sprinted out of the alley, into the open street.
She'd walked here plenty of times. This was her hometown. She didn't exactly make a habit of walking the streets at night, but she knew the seven eleven on the corner and the bar across the street. This was her town, but tonight it could have been from a storybook. Every person, every shadow, was suspect. She ran madly up the street, sprinting blocks, energy filling her from god knows where. Well, she had her suspicions where it was coming from, but she didn't want to think about that right now. Instead, she took shortcuts and back ways and ended up a long way away from where she'd lost those creeps. Head pounding, breath coming even wilder now she had none of it, she doubled over, coughing, eyes squeezed shut.
"You'll make good trade in the Third Circle."
Callie tried to shoot straight to standing, but didn't quite manage it. One hand kept her balance against the wall, the other warding away the stranger. She knew she couldn't run this time, and to her dismay, light began pooling in her outstretched hand, slipping across it like mercury.
The stranger, now lit by her light, held his hands up, making no move towards her. He smiled. "Just telling you what they're going to be saying."
Callie panted, silent, breath still coming erratically. The light kept pooling, and she could see his features in it, round face contoured by shadows thrown from her hand. He had a scraggly sort of beard, warm, hazel eyes, and a far too comfortable way about him. He was squatter than she had thought, not very tall. His hair was dark brown, a little curly at the ends. He looked a little unkempt, as though he had been up all night in an office job, his loose tie and hefty coat helping that image. All in all, he wasn't the most imposing figure.
"What who are going to be saying?" Callie asked.
The man smiled at her again, and against her better will, Callie felt herself relaxing, just a little. It was a good smile. "You're fresh off the presses, aren't you?" he asked, but thankfully didn't seem to want a response. He held her gaze, hands still in the air, but moved a couple of easy steps closer, bringing himself into the street with her. Out of prying eyes. Callie tensed, the light in her hand flaring, but the man stopped once he was out of sight of the next street, within easy talking distance. He didn't seem scared of her. Well. He did. He was obviously wary, but he wasn't...scared. That was novel. Callie didn't exactly have much experience with this yet, but thus far, abject terror and disgust had been a pretty key reaction. This man didn't seem inclined towards either of those. So either he was stupid, crazy, or a very good actor. Still, the light in Callie's hand dimmed down just a little. Back from its flare-up.
"You just find out about this?" he asked.
Callie gave a single, tense nod. She knew she shouldn't be talking to him, but the panic was rising in her, compounded by the knowledge that panic would send that magic flaring up and away again. And she desperately wanted help. And really, how much worse could the situation get?
"Your parents kick you out?"
Callie paused, but nodded. She'd already committed here. "How-" she started, voice cracking. She cleared her throat, swallowing, and tried again. "How did you know that?"
He spread his hands out, still holding her eyes. "Just a guess. Another guess, if you'll let me," He paused, eyebrows raised, waiting for Callie's nod. "You're a changeling?"
Tears flooded Callie's eyes, dropping straight to her chin without the bother of her having a chance to stop them. She nodded, and a sob escaped into the night, but she held her stance. Her hand wavered, and her light flickered and flared, but she held it.
The man winced, taking another step closer. "That's rough." In her light, Callie saw his eyes. They hadn't left hers this whole time. And they were devastated. There was a deep sadness there, all for her. Even in her panic, she saw it, and against her will, her shoulders relaxed. Her breath came a little easier. There was every chance he was here to harm her, but maybe, just maybe he was here to help. Not everyone could be against her.
"They call the cops on you?" he asked, and Callie nodded. "How long ago?"
Callie shook her head. "I don't-I-I don't-"
The man nodded, stepping closer and taking his coat off. "That's alright. You're in shock, there's no way you could know."
Callie shot back into defence mode, but the man just took off his inner jacket and handed it over.
He glanced at her face and shrugged. "What? You're not getting my coat. I like this coat, and it's like, twenty sizes too big for you."
Callie blinked. Was he really offering her his jacket?
The man smiled again. "I promise it's not booby trapped."
Why the hell not? Callie took it, forcing her slightly shaking arms into it.
"Try not to burn it with fairy magic or whatever it is you've got going on there," the man added.
Starting at the casual mention of her magic, Callie nonetheless did as she was told. Magic. She had magic now. Apparently she had always had it. She didn't want to think about that. The jacket hung down almost to her knees and she had to roll the sleeves up, but god was it warm.
The man shrugged his coat back on and held a hand out. "I'm Leo," he said. "I was leaving work, and spotted you doing your little light show. Thought I'd come say hello. So. Hello."
"Callie." Her name couldn't do that much damage, right? Still, Callie felt reluctant to give it away so easily. It was all she had left. "Hi."
Leo nodded. "You got anywhere to go?"
Swallowing past the hard knot in her throat, Callie shook her head. Her breath was evening out, her trembles subsiding as the jacket leant her warmth. It had come to her pre-warmed. "No. I don't have any money or..." she trailed off. Anything. She didn't have anything.
Leo squeezed her hand before he let go. "That's alright, Callie. You aren't the only one this has happened to. I'd like to take you to the others, if you want that."
Did she want that? On the surface of it, it seemed like she was being given some kind of golden chance. But there was every possibility that Leo was just going to take her to some magic trafficking ring. "How do I know you aren't a bad guy?" she asked. As her panic was fading, exhaustion was setting in, and she lacked the energy to even wish she'd said that a bit more like an adult.
Leo smiled. "You really can't. I can give you my word on it if you want, but I'm a journalist, so most people don't bother."
Callie smiled a little despite herself.
"Besides, if you panic, I'm pretty sure we both blow up or I end up mindless in a ditch somewhere, so I'd say that's pretty good insurance."
Well. She couldn't argue with that. And frankly, even if he was a creep, maybe she'd get to sleep in the car on the way to his horror mansion or wherever it was those guys lived.
Leo shoved his hands in his pockets and jerked his head towards the street. "Come on. You're about to fall asleep on your feet. Let me drive you into the creepy woods and I can lecture you on magic rights until you pass out."
"Why not," Callie said. "At least I'll get a nap."
Snorting, Leo gestured the way out. "After you then."
Ten minutes later, Callie was on her way to the edge of the woods outside the city, fast asleep in the passenger seat of a stranger.
Last edited: