Another fic

[persephone_20]

Continuation from here:
(as you can see, my brain is going in coherent lines today. Oh yes)

Comments

[miss_c_twist]

*Nuzzles* Ahem... you started it :p What you want to do with this (delete it, use it, throw my leggy boy of leggy-ness out the house) is up to you ;p

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The door creaked open. There was Dancer's voice and another. A soft baritone. It was mellow, soothing. It was inside. Chess looked up through her purple bangs to the new comer. He was the first person she has seen, other than Dancer, in this place.

He was tall, taller than anyone else she had ever seen, with a lean, angular frame and very long dark hair. His skin was very pale. He looked ethereal and, yet, he was so much more real than this place. There was a sense of solidity to him, like earth and rock in this place of mist and half light. He came to sit before her, his worn leather jacket creaking softly, and considered her with a steady gaze.

And suddenly he smiled. Wicked, cheeky, a little bit wild. "You know if you want out of here, princess, you're gonna be plum out of luck if you won't leave the house."

She stared at him, almost in shock, and he just grinned on back at her.

[persephone_20]

Delete it? Not bloody likely. Okay... mm... okay... *steeples fingers together and thinks*

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"Are you expecting... wings popping out of my back? Black film to cover my eyes? Fangs? Fur? Let's see, what other ideas do they put onto those televisions so many of you own?"

The smile on his face was inviting her to join in. Moments pass, and Chess suddenly remembers that it's her turn to talk. Her lips part, and she is ready to speak. Ready...

And then a nervous smile curves her lips, thinning them against words that won't come. She notices Dancer's expression as it begins to grow concerned, notices also a kind of terror has frozen her words in her throat. The push of words backing up in her throat only makes it worse.

"Chess?"

Calm words, deep breaths. Dancer is beside her on the couch, his hand gently touching the skin of hers. She's had panic attacks before, and recognises the feeling of it before she's a slave to it. Even so, it is only four words that she manages before her throat closes up again. "No," she says, "Nothing like this."

[miss_c_twist]

The man cocks his head to one side, considering her for long minutes as she gets herself under control. He speaks again without taking the time for gentle platitudes.

"You can go insane here." He begins bluntly, eyes hard. "Bat shit fucking insane. We've all seen it. You can also be free here. Freer than you've ever known or thought possible. If you stay in here, locked away and afraid will never leave, and will go out of your mind. He," he waves one long boney hand at Dancer, "can not find you a way out. No one can. Except you. That's how it works."

She looks a little more panicked at those words but he sees, behind her eyes, the presence of steel. He knows she has the strength to walk, he watched her walking the street alone, but whether she would find it in her to accept help is another matter. She's proud, this little girl, in a way that was much akin to Eddie. Proud but so used to being hurt so badly.

[miss_c_twist]

Eeep that should read " and afraid you will never"

[persephone_20]

Dancer isn't looking happy. He has brought this man into the apartment and now Chess isn't sure that the man remains welcome. But there is sense to his words. Like him, she is able to remember the times when she walked the Belows alone although, unlike him, she is not aware that he watched. To remember those times was like to remember an earlier part of a dream. In a more pragmatic part of herself, Chess knew that the key to her strength here began with her ceasing to think of all this as a dream. She knew it wasn't. She wished...

And she looked to Dancer. His hand was still holding hers, tighter now, after the tall man's words.

Deep breaths, calm words. "Is what he says true?"

She watches Dancer pause for a minute. He doesn't want to give her the answer, and doesn't want to lie. Eventually, all that is given is the most minute nod of his head. She'd known that, really. Tall, dark men with such intensity in their eyes did not lie about such things.

"Okay," she said and, in that word, made the very starting towards acceptance of this world.

[miss_c_twist]

AHAH! We have that line, sort of!!!

__________________________

He suddenly grins again. "By the by, my name is Dark. How do you do?"

She stares at him, blinks a few times then tentatively takes his offered hand. "Um, I'm Chess." It seemed more a suggestion than a statement, but he just smiled. "I think... I have no idea." She laughs a little helplessly. He'd thrown her completely off balance, again, with the sudden change in temperament. "Do your moods always change so fast?" she asks feeling oddly brave now that she'd made the call to start accepting this place.

"Mmmm, my moods don't really change much at all, just how serious I'm being at any point. He shifts from his knees to sitting cross legged and scratches at his head ruffling his thick hair. "You need to meet people. People other than me, I'm not exactly a good guide to any one ... young." He'd almost said human then. It would probably have frightened her to be dealing with the non-human's just yet though, even the concept. He wasn't entirely sure. Little Spider and his Ghost had taken to it well enough, but Spider had been pushing the boundaries of what magic could do before he came here.

He thought about it, carefully. Spider would be ideal as far as non-threatening went, but he was still finding his feet. Danika would be best, if maybe a little over enthusiastic.

"Young?" She broke through his thoughts. "You don't look much older than I am..."

"Ehhhh..." He sighed. "You probably want to get used to this place before you go there, love. Lets just say I'm older than I look and leave it there for now." She studied him. He looked maybe late twenties at the oldest. She'd have picked him for mid-twenties if asked off the cuff. Except his eyes. His eyes were strangely out of place in his youthful features, they were the eyes of a much older man. "You should drag Danika round." He addressed Dancer. "Introduce them."

[persephone_20]

Little Spider and his Ghost!!! Eeee. (I think I like these boys more than Eddie and Arize, if that's even possible)

I don't know if you've noticed, but we have a lot of character names in this room starting with D ;)

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Dark and Chess both look in his direction. Dancer nods once at the 'older' man who has just directed instructions to him. He is just glad that the light has returned to Chess' eyes; the light that had once drawn him in when he'd least expected it.

Her eyes, when she looks at him now, are shining with ill-suppressed excitement and the hopes that Dark has managed to wake in her. There's a moment when Dancer sorrows that he could not bring that out for her but gratitude overwhelms the feeling. It's okay because he never wants her to suppress her excitement again.

"Danika's wonderful," he says to her quietly, knowing what she needs in order to feel reassurance now. "You'll like her."

When she comes into his arms some time later, there is a slight hesitation to her steps as if it's the first time again. With the indulgence of experience, Dark excuses himself from the apartment and disappears into the... dark.

Chess leans into the contact as Dancer reaches out to touch her cheek. Her eyes don't break contact with his for she can't bring herself to look away.

"I only saw half of you before..." she muses, only half able to believe, for he'd always been beautiful to her.

Dancer knows exactly what she means. He gives her a coyote-grin, then says with relish, "Let me show you my world."