[Fic] (Broken) Equilibrium
Title: (Broken) Equilibrium
Characters: Darkstar and Charmcaster
Word Count: 1075
Summary: A speculative ficlet set a few days after Trade Off.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I am so rusty ;A;
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Sharp-heeled boots strode through the ajar glass door, and casually stepped over the gaunt, unconscious form of a security guard. The wearer made no sound as she strut down the unlit corridor that led into an art gallery.
With curtains drawn, and the main lights switched off, the strings of small, incandescent bulbs lining the walls cast more shadows than banished them. Chimeral creatures of conflicting features, form, and function decorated the room as surreal images and sculptures. Amethyst eyes swept past the captions beneath each piece in mild disinterest.
Ambush.
Stalked.
Hunter.
Prey.
A white brow quirked when her eyes fell upon the figure sitting on his heels before the gallery's center-piece. Hunched shoulders rose and fell in the quick succession of one catching his breath. One gray-skinned hand gripped at the few clumps of corn-silk blonde hair in frustration, while the other, sporting bleeding knuckles, hung by his side.
From where she stood, with his back to her, she couldn't help but wonder what expression could his grim features be making.
Silently, she approached him, carefully side-stepping past the toppled bust and the metal helmet littering the floor. Painted lips curled into a smirk at the center-piece: A broken mirror gilded in ornate metal, its surface streaked in blood. She let a cruel, mocking laugh escape her throat at the caption: Monster.
"And here I thought Darkstar knew how to appreciate art," She snickered unkindly.
There was a sharp intake of air before he rose to his feet, slowly, ominously. He straightened himself, folded his arms across his chest and turned to face her. Sunken, dull-blue eyes narrowed in grim contempt as he answered, "Lovely Charmcaster, I appreciate works of beauty. Not the drivel these pseudo-intellectual posers crap out."
"I don't know. I think you fit right in with the freaks," her smile was as sweet as her voice was taunting.
"That would explain why we get along, then," His smile was as ghoulish as his voice was snide. Immediately his expression turns serious, "If you're here because you want your book back-"
"Keep it. It was my Uncle's anyway and he never even knew the tome was missing," she declared with a haughty flip of her hair. "Not to mention all it contains are third-rate artifacts."
"Then why are you here?" He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I like seeing the result of other people's failures in person," A half-truth. She had tracked him down because she had a plan that required his special abilities, but she couldn't deny her tendency to mock others of their short-comings.
Her palms thrummed with mana when she saw his jaw clench and anticipated an obsidian blast in retaliation.
Instead, he took a step forward. Then another. And another. And another. Wordlessly, he walked towards her. Past her. He nudged the fallen bust out of the way with his boot, bent down to retrieve his helmet, and headed straight for the door.
Charmcaster blinked, surprised, confused, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
He paused, glanced over his shoulder and hissed through grit teeth "I'm sparing you the indignity of being in the presence of a failure."
The mana-witch cocked her head in disbelief. No, that wasn't it. She had needled him about his past slip-ups countless times before, even rubbed salt in the metaphorical wounds while they were still fresh. He had always reacted either with a venomous insult, or an obsidian bolt.
He had never just walked away.
"That's it? You screwed up with the Dominus Librium and suddenly you just skulk away with your tail between your legs?" She scoffed, her body language radiating disappointment. "And here I thought you were worth my time. I expected more from you, but you're just a pathetic, poor excuse of a-"
And suddenly her wrists were in his hands. She found herself staring into livid blue eyes and seething ghoulish features just as his helmet clattered noisily to the ground. Charmcaster didn't remember ever being this near him. She had always kept a certain distance between them, just as a precaution for the mouth in his hands. But she never remembered him ever trying to close the gap, secretly or otherwise.
"I would think twice about finishing that sentence if I were you," he glowered darkly.
She snorted, unimpressed, as she tried to pull away. His grip grew vice-like, and they tightened around her wrists. Painfully. The mana-witch wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.
"I see you decided to go down a different route," Charmcaster purred. "Or is this just an excuse to cop a feel?"
Darkstar's cheeks flushed purple and immediately let her go, insulted and embarrassed that she would suggest such a thing. "Excuse me, but I happen to have standards," he sniffed in disdain before he flashed perfectly straight, white teeth, "And I say that with the utmost respect."
It was Charmcaster's turn to glare, amethyst eyes aglow with mana until they fell upon a small, golden fragment fused to Darkstar's chest. The mana-witch rolled her eyes, marched up to him, and pressed a manicured nail against the remnant of what had been the Dominus Librium. "Well this certainly explains your sudden hands-on approach."
There was something immensely satisfying about watching Darkstar's eyes grow saucer-wide when he realized she knew his powers had been sealed. Equally satisfying was his attempt at lying through his teeth. Charmcaster didn't doubt his ability to weave a convincing explanation but the mana-witch grew up surrounded by magical artifacts.
"Save it, Darkles," she commanded, "Just follow me and I'll have that seal off you in no time."
Charmcaster didn't begrudge how he didn't bother to hide his distrust of her offer. If their positions had been reversed, she would have probably reacted the same way. It still didn't make it any less annoying. Again, she rolled her eyes, this time at his protests how he didn't need her help and how he could manage on his own.
"That's what you said about the Dominus Librium and look where that got you."
That certainly silenced him. But not for long, apparently. As he retrieved his helmet he demanded to know "What do you get out it?"
Her smile skirted the borders between mischievous and malicious. "I'm hoping for a competent ally. But I'll settle for someone far more fun to tease."
Characters: Darkstar and Charmcaster
Word Count: 1075
Summary: A speculative ficlet set a few days after Trade Off.
Rating: PG-13
A/N: I am so rusty ;A;
-----------------------
Sharp-heeled boots strode through the ajar glass door, and casually stepped over the gaunt, unconscious form of a security guard. The wearer made no sound as she strut down the unlit corridor that led into an art gallery.
With curtains drawn, and the main lights switched off, the strings of small, incandescent bulbs lining the walls cast more shadows than banished them. Chimeral creatures of conflicting features, form, and function decorated the room as surreal images and sculptures. Amethyst eyes swept past the captions beneath each piece in mild disinterest.
Ambush.
Stalked.
Hunter.
Prey.
A white brow quirked when her eyes fell upon the figure sitting on his heels before the gallery's center-piece. Hunched shoulders rose and fell in the quick succession of one catching his breath. One gray-skinned hand gripped at the few clumps of corn-silk blonde hair in frustration, while the other, sporting bleeding knuckles, hung by his side.
From where she stood, with his back to her, she couldn't help but wonder what expression could his grim features be making.
Silently, she approached him, carefully side-stepping past the toppled bust and the metal helmet littering the floor. Painted lips curled into a smirk at the center-piece: A broken mirror gilded in ornate metal, its surface streaked in blood. She let a cruel, mocking laugh escape her throat at the caption: Monster.
"And here I thought Darkstar knew how to appreciate art," She snickered unkindly.
There was a sharp intake of air before he rose to his feet, slowly, ominously. He straightened himself, folded his arms across his chest and turned to face her. Sunken, dull-blue eyes narrowed in grim contempt as he answered, "Lovely Charmcaster, I appreciate works of beauty. Not the drivel these pseudo-intellectual posers crap out."
"I don't know. I think you fit right in with the freaks," her smile was as sweet as her voice was taunting.
"That would explain why we get along, then," His smile was as ghoulish as his voice was snide. Immediately his expression turns serious, "If you're here because you want your book back-"
"Keep it. It was my Uncle's anyway and he never even knew the tome was missing," she declared with a haughty flip of her hair. "Not to mention all it contains are third-rate artifacts."
"Then why are you here?" He asked, eyes narrowed in suspicion.
"I like seeing the result of other people's failures in person," A half-truth. She had tracked him down because she had a plan that required his special abilities, but she couldn't deny her tendency to mock others of their short-comings.
Her palms thrummed with mana when she saw his jaw clench and anticipated an obsidian blast in retaliation.
Instead, he took a step forward. Then another. And another. And another. Wordlessly, he walked towards her. Past her. He nudged the fallen bust out of the way with his boot, bent down to retrieve his helmet, and headed straight for the door.
Charmcaster blinked, surprised, confused, "Just what do you think you're doing?"
He paused, glanced over his shoulder and hissed through grit teeth "I'm sparing you the indignity of being in the presence of a failure."
The mana-witch cocked her head in disbelief. No, that wasn't it. She had needled him about his past slip-ups countless times before, even rubbed salt in the metaphorical wounds while they were still fresh. He had always reacted either with a venomous insult, or an obsidian bolt.
He had never just walked away.
"That's it? You screwed up with the Dominus Librium and suddenly you just skulk away with your tail between your legs?" She scoffed, her body language radiating disappointment. "And here I thought you were worth my time. I expected more from you, but you're just a pathetic, poor excuse of a-"
And suddenly her wrists were in his hands. She found herself staring into livid blue eyes and seething ghoulish features just as his helmet clattered noisily to the ground. Charmcaster didn't remember ever being this near him. She had always kept a certain distance between them, just as a precaution for the mouth in his hands. But she never remembered him ever trying to close the gap, secretly or otherwise.
"I would think twice about finishing that sentence if I were you," he glowered darkly.
She snorted, unimpressed, as she tried to pull away. His grip grew vice-like, and they tightened around her wrists. Painfully. The mana-witch wasn't about to give him the satisfaction of seeing her in pain.
"I see you decided to go down a different route," Charmcaster purred. "Or is this just an excuse to cop a feel?"
Darkstar's cheeks flushed purple and immediately let her go, insulted and embarrassed that she would suggest such a thing. "Excuse me, but I happen to have standards," he sniffed in disdain before he flashed perfectly straight, white teeth, "And I say that with the utmost respect."
It was Charmcaster's turn to glare, amethyst eyes aglow with mana until they fell upon a small, golden fragment fused to Darkstar's chest. The mana-witch rolled her eyes, marched up to him, and pressed a manicured nail against the remnant of what had been the Dominus Librium. "Well this certainly explains your sudden hands-on approach."
There was something immensely satisfying about watching Darkstar's eyes grow saucer-wide when he realized she knew his powers had been sealed. Equally satisfying was his attempt at lying through his teeth. Charmcaster didn't doubt his ability to weave a convincing explanation but the mana-witch grew up surrounded by magical artifacts.
"Save it, Darkles," she commanded, "Just follow me and I'll have that seal off you in no time."
Charmcaster didn't begrudge how he didn't bother to hide his distrust of her offer. If their positions had been reversed, she would have probably reacted the same way. It still didn't make it any less annoying. Again, she rolled her eyes, this time at his protests how he didn't need her help and how he could manage on his own.
"That's what you said about the Dominus Librium and look where that got you."
That certainly silenced him. But not for long, apparently. As he retrieved his helmet he demanded to know "What do you get out it?"
Her smile skirted the borders between mischievous and malicious. "I'm hoping for a competent ally. But I'll settle for someone far more fun to tease."