M O N S T E R

so my a-level exams are this june- aka in about 6 weeks. i’m kinda majorly stressing about them and I have LOADS of work to do to prepare for them…

… so i’m taking a short hiatus from this blog. I might be back before june idk! but I really should limit my distractions rn. i’m sorry to everyone waiting on replies, but I hope u understand why I have to sideline them for a while!! i’ll be back as soon as I can.

For a moment, her brain stopped working. She was frozen, unable to tear her eyes away from his hand, her face adorned with a pretty stupid expression. Then a real, genuine smile swept over her face.

He was like her. There was someone like her. He’d created a miniature storm with just his hand- beautiful, brilliant silver sparks that flickered over the countertop. She was as shocked as she had been the first time she’d discovered she could do that.

“Mutant…” she let the word play out in the air, getting the feel of it. There were no ‘good’ words for this, she guessed- mutant, abnormal, freak, demon- but they were their words. Scarlett closed her eyes and concentrated. As she looked back up at the bartender, her eyes- pupils, irises and whites- lit up brilliantly blue, flickering like the sparks he’d created. “… I usually go by ‘monster’.”

He’s never liked the term mutant. It always felt dirty, slung around with the intention to cause pain. He went for nearly a year before he got comfortable enough to say the word without pausing beforehand. Hell, he welcomed the ‘junkie’ label better than he did the ‘mutant’ label. Sometimes he still does even though he hasn’t used in over a year; somehow it still feels fitting, 

She couldn't think of a casual way to say 'So, my long-lost mum turned out to be a mass-murdering storm demon whose idea of a great birthday present was a dead dad and a traumatic childhood, so I tried to kill her, then she tried to kill me, then she possessed me, then I got shot and she died, and somehow in the middle of all that she activated these weird lightning powers that I'd inherited from her. Long story short: I Killed My Mum And All I Got Were These Stupid Powers.' Instead, she settled with:

"I guess it'd always sort of laid dormant or something, then- something happened, and suddenly I had these abilities. All of a sudden I could literally make lightning. It was fucking weird." She laughed at how absurd it all seemed now, but she wouldn't have laughed at it back then. "And sort of terrifying, I guess. Took me ages to learn to control it."

She couldn't believe she was saying all this. Why was she saying all this? She never told anyone this much about herself, especially not strange men in dive bars. "What about you? That storm-chasing thing actually happen?"

Her subjects needed food, her armies needed supplies, her hospitals needed funding, and for some reason, her council had decided to waste the precious little left in the treasury on a ball. Apparently it’s ‘good for morale’.

She couldn’t stand these things- getting dressed up and listening to pretentious nobles yap at each other all evening, wearing a regal smile and pretending everything’s okay when that couldn’t be further from the truth. They were losing the war. Tempeya’s army was close to invading their borders and then it was only a matter of time before they reached the capital.

But she couldn’t let her court- or the visiting foreign diplomats- know that, so Scarlett played the part of the strong and successful young queen for the evening. She sweltered underneath a heavy red velvet dress and oppressive gold crown, laughing politely at her courtiers’ jokes and assuring them all was well in the war effort. Nobody would have known that she was secretly terrified for the lives of her citizens, and that she hated each and every annoying toff in this ballroom.

Her glass was almost empty, and she needed an excuse to leave the circle of boring barons she’d been stuck in conversation with. She turned round a little too quickly to find a waiter- and accidentally ran straight into someone. An unfamiliar young woman with long brown hair.

That had been a few days ago, when they had first arrived, along with hundred of other nobles. Kveta, however, was determined to do things her own way. So when it came time for the ball, she did not doll up in a gown of the finest satins. Rather she dressed in the robes of the Royal Guard with whom she had been training. Beneath swirling red material draped to look almost skirt like were dark trousers. Leather boots were laced up to her knees, matching the leather armor which she wore. Her sword hung freely by her side and accented the glittering jewels in her hair.

The maids were horrified. Yet… Kveta felt far more comfortable as she strode down the long corridors.

She had trained long and hard with the War Generals of her kingdom so that she might know how to lead her people to victory should the time come. Kveta was a princess, and although adopted by the King himself, she not one who readily sat on her high throne and let everyone else do her work. Nor would she allow the rumors or the whispers of the nobles bother her. Her head was held high.

For the majority of the party Kveta kept to her own. A few women tried to persuade her to see the errors of her ways, but she easily ignored them.

However, late into the ball, the Queen herself bumped into her, causing the princess to spill her champagne. Kveta couldn’t even be mad, though. Not when those graceless words fell from the lips of her majesty. Instead, Kveta burst into laughter. “That is the most intelligent anyone has saod all night!” Golden hues were delighted and she made sure she had not spilled anything on the Queen’s dress.

Scarlett couldn't supress the surge of vicious jealousy that crept through her chest. In the other girl, she saw a glimpse of everything she could be- strong, daring, free- if only she didn't have a mob of advisors peering over her shoulder all day and criticising her every move. She should be the one in uniform- heroically leading her soldiers into battle, ending this war once and for all, not being held hostage inside her own palace.

She'd become so absorbed in this thought that she'd almost forgotten the vulgar greeting that she'd imparted on the princess.

"For once I can say with complete honesty that it's a pleasure to meet you," she grinned, offering her hand, "You might be the one person here that can make this ball interesting, Kveta."

As he leaned closer a slight hum of electricity picked up under her skin, like a generator kicking into action, starting in her heart and making its way across her arms and to her fingertips- the way it does when she can feel a storm coming. So that wasn’t normal. It was like the energy locked up inside her veins was responding to something- to him, maybe? From the look he gives her when he finally stops staring at her scars, she guessed he felt something too.

There was definitely more to his story than he was letting on. She didn’t know whether the pounding in her chest was due to excitement or fear.

She knew there had to be other people with weird abilities out there- she’d heard of people who could manipulate fire, cast spells, read minds- it wasn’t completely implausible that she could stumble across another one with the same powers as her in a random dive bar in a random part of the world that she’d just happened to visit. Although, when you put it like that, it does sound pretty unlikely.

Scarlett leaned closer and spoke in a hushed voice. “Not exactly,” she said, evasively, “But I’m guessing that’s not all there is to your story either.”

His eyes flicker up sharply to meet hers. Sam sits in silence as he lets the meaning of her words sink in. Without much thought he reaches out with his senses, and after a moment… There. There’s some sort of spark in the air, one that’s not coming from him. 

“It’s not,” he says carefully as he holds his hand out in between the two of them. Before doing anything he takes a surreptitious look around the bar, but nobody is looking in their direction, giving him the privacy he wants. His heart rate picks up as his anxiety kicks in, but he’s not going to turn back now. 

With an exhale he lets some sparks crackle around his extended hand. The sparks are jagged and jump around his hand harmlessly, falling to the bar’s countertop, before vanishing with a small crack! He straightens up. 

He was like her. There was someone like her. He'd created a miniature storm with just his hand- beautiful, brilliant silver sparks that flickered over the countertop. She was as shocked as she had been the first time she'd discovered she could do that.