Fic: M Is For Magic Slates (1/1)
Title: M Is For Magic Slates (1/1)
Author: BradyGirl_12
Pairings/Characters: David Acosta, Ben Shakir, Kristen Bouchard, Sister Fenna
Fandom: Evil
Genre: Drama
Rating: G
Warnings: None
Spoilers: For S Is For Silence (2x7)
Summary: When you can't talk, thinking takes over.
Date Of Completion: September 16, 2021
Date Of Posting: October 14, 2021
Disclaimer: I don’t own ‘em, Robert and Michelle King do, more’s the pity.
Word Count: 1112
Feedback welcome and appreciated.
I can hear
The sounds of silence
Dripping down stone walls,
Protected from modern life’s clamor
(And unseemly glamour),
Loud and earsplitting,
So fitting.
Chaos out there,
While in here is
The peacefulness
Of prayer.
Brother Joseph
“The Holy Mission”
1890 C.E.
STAR TREK: THE ANIMATED SERIES
David felt defeated. He couldn’t focus. Surrounded by monks dedicated to prayer, and he couldn’t pray! No, he was thinking about Kristen, and not in a prayerful way.
He pretended to pray. The quiet was soothing, especially for his jangled nerves. He liked it here, despite the oddity of never speaking. He was tempted to choose this path after ordination. Ben and Kristen would consider him crazy for even considering it, but they weren’t on the same wavelength about such things. They were fully immersed in the modern world, the outer world, a world of chaos and clatter and being on the grid.
My soul needs the peace of this place. No distractions. No texting, no e-mails, no Internet. Just living.
It appealed to him greatly, and he wanted to think about this. Ah, maybe now he could actually focus.
Was Father Thomas a miracle? Was the demon in a cabinet real? Considering the strange things the team had seen in the past months, who was he to say? Of course, Ben would look for a logical explanation and Kristen would declare it all psychological, but he was content to believe in miracles, at least for now.
His smile reflected his contentment.
& & & & & &
ROBIN HOOD
Ben cautiously approached the crypt, reluctant to enter its musty environs. The stone walls and general eeriness reminded him far too much of his time trapped in the hotel sub-basement during the Elevator Game case. He didn’t need to add to his nightmares.
He walked down to the passageway and to the crypt, frowning at the scratch marks on the coffin lid. Definitely Edgar Allan Poe territory. He took pictures of everything he thought might be useful.
Crazy place. How could these people go their entire lives without talking? He would bet that some of them still had to stifle the urge to talk, even after years of silence. Enforced silence wasn’t natural.
Well, at least he got the Robin Hood slate, though as a techie he might be a better fit for Star Trek: The Animated Series. David was more the Robin Hood type. And Kristen as Casper the Friendly Ghost? Not so friendly lately, a little more brittle than when they first met.
How could these people live their lives without technology? It was like living in the Middle Ages. He could never do this, but he would bet David was tempted. He shook his head in fond exasperation.
He heard a noise. Hummimg? Curiosity drove him into the passage. Wait, were the shadows moving? He swallowed, his heartbeat speeding up. He held up his phone, ready to take a picture. On second thought, he put it on video mode.
The darkness was moving. Something was here, with him, a low-key hum making the hairs on the back of his neck stand up. His hand holding the phone shook slightly.
It was ominous, like the special effects for the Angel of Death in the old The Ten Commandments movie, darkness creeping and sweeping, pestilence carried on the wind. He could smell it.
Ben grabbed the equipment he brought and ran out of the crypt, heart pounding in his chest. Bugs! crossed his mind. Great, he was flashing back to the sub-basement again. His mouth was dry and adrenaline surged him forward. He burst out of the crypt, desperately gulping fresh air.
He looked behind him at the entrance to the crypt. Time to get the hell outta Dodge. He headed inside the monastery.
& & & & & &
CASPER THE FRIENDLY GHOST
Kristen was in a mood.
First, she had been chased out of Father Thomas’s crypt because she was female, and the monks had given her side-eyed looks Weird, because there were nuns in this monastery.
She had sat down at the rough, wooden dining table to silently discuss things about the case with David. Ben had joined them, and she had begun slurping her full goblet of wine. She had been steered (banished!) to the nuns’ table table in the next room.
Humiliating in a way, but the benefit was Fenna’s presence at the table. Not for the first time Kristen wondered about the girl’s background. What had caused her to choose this life? She was so young. Surely she had other opportunities.
Well, maybe not. Maybe she had grown up in an abusive household or an orphanage, and this place represented safety and security. And she must have felt a call to God, otherwise why undergo such strict rules for living and the daily drudgery?
Kristen ate the home-baked bread. Simple, but good. She could use a retreat like this, just not so anti-woman. Something New Age-y would work. Her mom might know, or the owner of Taproot Bookstore in the city. She would have to find out.
She and David exchanged pleasant looks, and she wondered at her scrutiny. Flashes of them making love pleased her. Her libido was really high right now, though if anything could suppress it, this place could.
She wondered what her accommodations would be like tonight. No doubt David and Ben would get Spartan rooms but at least tolerable. What would she get? A cot jammed into a storeroom? She laughed silently at the thought. Nah, they couldn’t be that misogynistic.
A loud clatter practically at her elbow startled her. A monk had dropped his dirty plate and utensils on the nuns’ table, followed by another monk’s plate. Fenna scrambled to pick them up, neglecting her own dinner.
Kristen glared at their retreating backs.Why not just leave the plates on their own table for the nuns to pick up? Why dump them on the nuns’ table while they were still eating? Kristen had the urge to kick their arrogant asses,
She noticed one of the older nuns frowning and bet she might like to deliver some kicks of her own. Not all nuns were shrinking violets. Sister Andrea back at St. Joseph’s immediately came to mind.
Now there’s a woman of strength and intelligence. She knows her place in the Church but that doesn’t stop her from doing what she has to do.
Krisren deliberately took her time finishing her supper, ignoring the noisy plate parade until her last bite. She drained her wine goblet and took a stack of dirty dishes out to the kitchen.
Bastards! The reason the nuns are still eating when the monks are done is because they do the cooking and serving!
Yep, Kristen was in a mood.
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This entry has been cross-posted from Dreamwidth. Comment on either entry as you wish. :)
This story can also be read on AO3.