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120_minutenTitel: Ghosts
Challenge: Angst - Gratwanderung (Päckchen #10)
Fandom: Underworld
Charaktere: Nathaniel, Selene, Rigel
Sprache: Englisch
Team: Team Ouroboros mit Team Melpomene, Metaphermorphose & Pluto
Kommentar: Ich schreibe dann einfach mal ohne Plan stumpf drauf los.
The feeling to belong might have been an illusion, but without it the world feels like a much colder place.
Ghosts
The law doesn’t really change anything, at least not for vampires. They’ve always been in this world without being a part of it. They might walk the streets, rub shoulders with mortals on the subway, buy their cigarettes in little corner shops and occasionally throw a glance at the headlines when passing a newspaper stand, but really they’re not much better than ghosts. They’ve always known they don’t belong in this world of living, breathing, dying creatures.
But at least before, the mortals didn’t know.
Before, the old ladies would smile when he held a door open for them, and a young woman or man might give him an appreciative look. Salesmen would try to talk him into buying whatever they were selling, and children would barrel into him in the street while they played. Now, only the street dogs dare to even look at him. He feeds them when Selene isn’t looking, but he’s certain she knows.
The others don’t seem to mind much, but he misses it. The feeling to belong might have been an illusion, but without it the world feels like a much colder place.
But the worst thing is not being allowed to really take part in anything. Any influence on the human world is not only frowned upon, but forbidden. This had of course always been this way (officially), but now there are eyes watching, people just waiting for the opportunity to throw out this unsatisfying compromise for something much worse.
This is better than war, he tells himself on the bad days, and he wholeheartedly believes that. But this precarious coexistence also isn’t true peace, no matter how you looked at it.
And still he can hear things no mortal ears can pick up, the screeching of brakes that are hit too late a couple blocks away, the man shouting in the apartment upstairs, the crying of a child. All those big and little things melting together into a cacophony until he wants to do is crawl into a corner and cover up his ears.
He smells the gas leak out of a pipe in the house on a corner, and thinks Somebody should call to get that fixed soon. He can feel the miniscule shift underneath his feet as he crosses an old bridge and knows somebody messed up on their last inspection. Sooner or later, these things will blow up, literally or figuratively. And he’s lived enough years to be able to imagine just how that’s going to go.
The others move past it like they’re living on another plane of existence, but he can feel it pulling at him and not let go. Sometimes he calls in an anonymous tip. By the stern look on Selene’s face, she knows that, too.
Rigel calls him a philanthrope with that teasing gleam in his eyes. Selene says he has a hero complex, and her eyes don’t gleam when she says it. Instead, they bore into his back in those moments when he hesitates, distracted by something that he anticipates will go terribly wrong. Sometimes he considers that she can read his mind.
Don’t you dare, her face says in those moments when he turns to look at her.
He doesn’t dare. Most of the times.
She’s the squad leader, she could just get rid of him. He’s never been the most obedient, not like the young ones that are still excited for battle and eager to please. But they’re also way more than just a squad, and he knows how much she hates babysitting new-born vampires. They handle their problems internally.
It’s only a matter of time before he’ll get punched though, or worse. There would not be much use to fight back, she’s much older than him. So he prepares himself to take it.
They all know he’ll mess up sooner or later.
Sometimes it’s like a curse to see everything in such detail, to have the world go in slow motion in these moments were something is on the line, to be able to imagine the outcome so clearly. Sooner or later, all accidents look the same.
The kid isn’t even as tall as the nearest car, there’s no way he can see the street like this, and the truck driver can’t see him either. A couple of meters isn’t even close to enough time to get that vehicle to a stop even if the man jumped onto the brakes right this instant. He’ll drag the body with him until the next intersection, or whatever will be left of it by then. There will be blood everywhere. A moment of silence. Then the screaming will begin.
It’s so easy to reach out. To dig his fingers into the hoodie of the boys’ sweatshirt. To pull, hard.
He misjudges his strength, and the boy hits the pavement. In front of them, the truck pulls past them like a giant.
“Don’t do that.” His voice sounds foreign, all sharp edges. “Don’t ever do that again.”
The boy just stares at him, wide eyes in a pale face, shaking.
He leaves without looking back. If he scared the life out of the kid, it will have been worth it.
Selene is waiting for him at the corner. This time he gets hit over the back of his head, but he barely feels the sting. She glowers at him. “Stop that.”
“I can’t”, he says truthfully.
She sighs, a long-suffering exhale that speaks volumes.
“I know.”
Challenge: Angst - Gratwanderung (Päckchen #10)
Fandom: Underworld
Charaktere: Nathaniel, Selene, Rigel
Sprache: Englisch
Team: Team Ouroboros mit Team Melpomene, Metaphermorphose & Pluto
Kommentar: Ich schreibe dann einfach mal ohne Plan stumpf drauf los.
The feeling to belong might have been an illusion, but without it the world feels like a much colder place.
Ghosts
The law doesn’t really change anything, at least not for vampires. They’ve always been in this world without being a part of it. They might walk the streets, rub shoulders with mortals on the subway, buy their cigarettes in little corner shops and occasionally throw a glance at the headlines when passing a newspaper stand, but really they’re not much better than ghosts. They’ve always known they don’t belong in this world of living, breathing, dying creatures.
But at least before, the mortals didn’t know.
Before, the old ladies would smile when he held a door open for them, and a young woman or man might give him an appreciative look. Salesmen would try to talk him into buying whatever they were selling, and children would barrel into him in the street while they played. Now, only the street dogs dare to even look at him. He feeds them when Selene isn’t looking, but he’s certain she knows.
The others don’t seem to mind much, but he misses it. The feeling to belong might have been an illusion, but without it the world feels like a much colder place.
But the worst thing is not being allowed to really take part in anything. Any influence on the human world is not only frowned upon, but forbidden. This had of course always been this way (officially), but now there are eyes watching, people just waiting for the opportunity to throw out this unsatisfying compromise for something much worse.
This is better than war, he tells himself on the bad days, and he wholeheartedly believes that. But this precarious coexistence also isn’t true peace, no matter how you looked at it.
And still he can hear things no mortal ears can pick up, the screeching of brakes that are hit too late a couple blocks away, the man shouting in the apartment upstairs, the crying of a child. All those big and little things melting together into a cacophony until he wants to do is crawl into a corner and cover up his ears.
He smells the gas leak out of a pipe in the house on a corner, and thinks Somebody should call to get that fixed soon. He can feel the miniscule shift underneath his feet as he crosses an old bridge and knows somebody messed up on their last inspection. Sooner or later, these things will blow up, literally or figuratively. And he’s lived enough years to be able to imagine just how that’s going to go.
The others move past it like they’re living on another plane of existence, but he can feel it pulling at him and not let go. Sometimes he calls in an anonymous tip. By the stern look on Selene’s face, she knows that, too.
Rigel calls him a philanthrope with that teasing gleam in his eyes. Selene says he has a hero complex, and her eyes don’t gleam when she says it. Instead, they bore into his back in those moments when he hesitates, distracted by something that he anticipates will go terribly wrong. Sometimes he considers that she can read his mind.
Don’t you dare, her face says in those moments when he turns to look at her.
He doesn’t dare. Most of the times.
She’s the squad leader, she could just get rid of him. He’s never been the most obedient, not like the young ones that are still excited for battle and eager to please. But they’re also way more than just a squad, and he knows how much she hates babysitting new-born vampires. They handle their problems internally.
It’s only a matter of time before he’ll get punched though, or worse. There would not be much use to fight back, she’s much older than him. So he prepares himself to take it.
They all know he’ll mess up sooner or later.
Sometimes it’s like a curse to see everything in such detail, to have the world go in slow motion in these moments were something is on the line, to be able to imagine the outcome so clearly. Sooner or later, all accidents look the same.
The kid isn’t even as tall as the nearest car, there’s no way he can see the street like this, and the truck driver can’t see him either. A couple of meters isn’t even close to enough time to get that vehicle to a stop even if the man jumped onto the brakes right this instant. He’ll drag the body with him until the next intersection, or whatever will be left of it by then. There will be blood everywhere. A moment of silence. Then the screaming will begin.
It’s so easy to reach out. To dig his fingers into the hoodie of the boys’ sweatshirt. To pull, hard.
He misjudges his strength, and the boy hits the pavement. In front of them, the truck pulls past them like a giant.
“Don’t do that.” His voice sounds foreign, all sharp edges. “Don’t ever do that again.”
The boy just stares at him, wide eyes in a pale face, shaking.
He leaves without looking back. If he scared the life out of the kid, it will have been worth it.
Selene is waiting for him at the corner. This time he gets hit over the back of his head, but he barely feels the sting. She glowers at him. “Stop that.”
“I can’t”, he says truthfully.
She sighs, a long-suffering exhale that speaks volumes.
“I know.”
no subject
Date: 2020-07-02 08:21 pm (UTC)Und ich kenne die Charaktere immer noch nicht, aber ich mag das Szenario. Und das "I can't." / "I know.". Das ist immer eine wundervolle Dynamik. <3
no subject
Date: 2020-07-10 07:39 am (UTC)Freut mich, dass dir das Ende gefällt! *_*
no subject
Date: 2020-07-08 07:38 am (UTC)no subject
Date: 2020-07-10 07:40 am (UTC)