tomorrow comes today

He scratched Bowie behind the ear, “Unfortunately there is no ghosts in the house at the moment so I think you’ll just have to do with the company of yours truly and the burned popcorn,” Mar swished by his shoulder at bare mention of specters feathers poofed out to scare away any further company.

Eli watched his breath fog up the passenger seat window, lulled to his thoughts by the hum of the engine while the headlights illuminated the narrow road ahead. Cars always made him sleepy, “I redid all the wardings in the house after I got back,” he spoke softly, “But it’s really not my area of expertise, even though I’m quite sure I did exactly as Madame showed me,” there had never been resident ghosts in the house thanks to her warding. It was an open house, and that kind of energy pulled in all kinds of wanderers. She had needed to make sure no visitor would overstay their welcome. “Could you check them for me when we get there?” he asked. Probably a smart thing to do before he started letting ghosts in.

After a while he tapped on the door, “There’s something I’m still wondering. You said the carousel was the first thing your father got for the carnival. How did that whole thing start? Was it something your family did already in England?”

“Mhm, I can check them if you want me to.” He spoke quietly with a mind fixed more on remembering how to get to the house of a woman Eli befriended in the past. Pre-war days were also the main reason why Maddox knew a little more about wards than the average warlock. Briefly he had lived with someone-- and shorter still had been in love with them. They were more in touch with the spirit world than Eli, tormented by a thousand whispers in their head at all times, which required a heavily warded home. 

Maddox turned down the road taking them to the house looming in the dark. Once he parked, Bowie sat up from a curled spot on the seat beside him, stretching and yawning. He paused, opening the door. “It started when we were back in England, yes.” His familiar followed as the warlock rounded the front of the truck to join Eli. “The Keyes have been in the carnival business going back several generous. Traveling carnivals, it was that way when I was a child too. In fact, my father met my mother in Leeds when she wanted to join as a fortune teller.” Air quotes were added around the last two words. In the U.K. they obviously lived among humans and the Keyes cloaked witchcraft in the dark airs of the carnival. 

His familiar bounded up the steps of Eli’s home until he ground to a halt with a curt growl at the front door. Maddox lifted the young pup to hold in his arms. “No offense but my familiar isn’t giving this place his vote of confidence just yet. Any reason why? I ask, expecting a very innocent ‘no’ from you in return.” 

In a way, Mini believed the house she lived in reflected who she was. It was an isolated place in the middle of the woods. A place most people would not dare coming close to. Inside, it was a warm and cozy environment, meant to be somewhere comfortable where the brunette could hide away from the world. Most people were kept right out the door, never having the chance to peek inside. Never having the opportunity to know what it was really like.

Mini kept everything there neatly organized. Everything had a place and there was a place for everything. Books and grimoires were alphabetically organized on the reddened wood of their shelves. Vinyl discs had their own special section, each one enveloped and dusted to perfection. The bookcase, by itself, was a work of art. Delicate grooves had been carved to each side of the structure where one could see runes.

Picking up her glass from the warlock, Mini’s turquoise eyes moved up to meet his. It was as if she could forget all the hardships of those war years to get lost in him. She wasn’t sure when it had happened, however, somewhere between them attending the Academy together and the days before Maddox went to war, something had changed between them. Mini spent her days thinking about him and his wellbeing, whether or not she would see him again, and, overall, wishing he would return home. He frequented her dreams, made a living in her fantasies, and it didn’t matter what she did, but she could never forget about the way he smiled.

Mini took a few steps closer. “I’ve known you to be skillful with your words, Maddox,” or, at the very least, he had always known exactly what to say to her. The brunette offered him a smile. “Should no star fall, there would be no toast,” she shook her head. “So, how about we toast to climaxes and crescendos and how they compliment one another harmonically to create beautiful melody?”

“I can be skillful with them. At times. Better in the moment than put on the spot maybe.” His smile was small but present. Until it was replaced with a thinner line, a questioning squint. A look to say he was a little offended. Or at least the best performance of being offended he could muster. “So.. you’re just going to re-write the toast completely, is that it? See, I didn’t expect you to go quite that far.”  

His glass lifted and tipped but before it could reach Mini’s glass it was quickly drawn away. Deeply saturated brown eyes darted off only for a moment, his lips parted in a thought. “But. Your toast sounds very musical. Climaxes and crescendos. Exciting, even. I suppose I’ll have to accept it.” The humor returned to his expression and finally he made her glass ring with a touch of his own. Maddox took a sip of the wine and then focused his attention on the record spinning around on the player. 

“Now, I hate to be rude as you’re guiding me around a very lovely house. However, your speakers suck.” With a wave of a finger the sound in the room changed. A first one instrument appeared plucked from the vinyl groove to be heard as if it was playing live in the room. The piano first, and then the rest followed one by one until the music breathed the same as they did, filling the space up completely. “Much better, don’t you think? Luckily I was here to help solve the problem for you. Can’t imagine you have enjoyed listening to music like that all these years.” 

Eli flashed his friend a bright smile, all teeth and happy, and scratched the pup under the chin, “Yeah, it’s a good boy. Nice to meet you, Bowie,” he said, while Mar flapped a foot on the pup’s snout to pet him.

His head turned towards the carousel, a chill running down his spine, his body practically thrumming with excitement, yes, she was definitely flirting with him. And she had him hooked, “Oh yes, I think you sorta cockblocked me, mate, we were having a good time. And since you don’t seem to be up for a threesome…” he tilted his head, a grin stretching his lips, before following the wispy beckoning figure.

Slumped on one of the wooden benches of the carnival, still heaving slightly while his leg throbbed, he thought maybe he should listen to Maddox sometimes. Of course he was also grinning and giddy with adrenaline, loving the feeling of doing whatever he wanted, the danger of living - so it was unlikely.

The presence of the spirit had faded, seemingly resigning after not getting what she wanted. Eli had made little progress with his psychoanalysis, though she had revealed some interesting tidbits. The midnight allure had come to an abrupt halt though, when the shove from the spirit had sent him crashing into the machinery of one of the rides, his leg on the path to being crushed. Maddox had stepped in of course, despite Eli’s insistence that he had had everything under control.

“Wanna come over for tea?” he asked, since he was now lacking a ghostly companion and all.

He drawled. “Terribly sorry I got in the way of things. If it’s a threesome you want, maybe find a third partner with a pulse, Eli.” 

--

Maddox found it difficult not to say I told you so. If his friend hadn’t been a hair’s width away from being seriously injured, he would’ve too. Then again, by the wide smile on Eli’s face the comment would not have registered the way it should. The warlock sat beside the other attempting to regain his composure from the sudden unfriendly lurch of the spirit to leave a larger impression on the other man. 

“After all that...” Maddox motioned to the ride which had almost been Eli’s undoing. “Could really go for something stronger. But tea will have to do. And the kinder ghostly company at your place.” He stood and instructed Bowie to remain by Eli’s side. “Wait here. There is a truck on the property, I’ll pull it up here so you won’t have to walk. And then you can tell my all about the house, how it’s been. Who you’d like to introduce me to there as well.”

“You’re a chatterbox tonight,” Stella mused, though she didn’t make an effort to climb up. Something about the way the wind was howling made the ground floor seem that much safer, even if the funhouse was built of thin sheeting and a tin roof.

Folding her arms, she dragged the tip of her boot through the dust on the floor. He wasn’t trying to be mysterious, she didn’t think. Wasn’t going for clever or coy. If anything, Maddox was sulking.

The wind kicked against the side of the building, some of the mirrors rattling a couple rooms behind. Stella tensed, the line between her shoulders growing taut. Her eyes narrowed.

“Gonna tell me what’s got you so sour?”

The offered hand dropped and Maddox crossed his arms, leaning into the side of the staircase. “Hm, what’s got me so sour? Couldn’t be the fiasco of this entire night, could it?” He’d been stuck with Valko for most of it-- enough said. 

Stella. Always spine straight and pretty as strawberry colored foxglove as she weaved between the desks of the Academy scrutinizing over shoulders. First glances were deceiving, her roots ran deep. 

“You love a good mystery, don’t you? There is one in the hall of mirrors and you are the only person who can appreciate it.” He took the stairs up then, calling back. “Don’t be a stick in the mud.” 

“I was actually planning on inviting her over for tea so I suppose that would have solved that problem,” not having to be stuck at the carnival, lonely, maybe they could have worked out what was keeping her on this plane in the first place and get her released. Therapy for the tormented souls, it could be his true calling.

He tilted his head watching the retreating specter. He did want to follow, see what would happen if he stepped onto the platform of the carousel when beckoned. He hummed, “She not your type?” he asked with a raise of his brow.

Mar gave a pleased purr at the scratch she received, “He loves the bird,” she cooed, then fixed him with a glare when the scratch didn’t last as long as she would’ve liked. He scoffed with a shake of his head, “I’d say it’s more of an unstoppable force than an obligation,“ awkward charm, the allure of the strange and sublime, unconditional love. Mar walked down his outstretched arm and perched on his hand tentatively leaning towards Bowie, “Hello,” she said, “Is it a good boy?”

She not your type? “You of all people should know I prefer a warm, real body. And Mar, she owns my heart of course.” 

Maddox wasn’t overly concerned about the introductions. He had already prepared his familiar to meet his closest friends, Mar included. Bowie’s wariness faded quickly after a final curious tilt of the head to the bird, and then the coyote pup nudged his nose against Eli’s palm. “An unstoppable force.” Rather than tease any further Maddox reiterated. It was true. The man he’d known for ages was the only person who could ease into his thoughts. When he’d physically left the valley he also remained there, perhaps not as present and literal as they do now, at the back of Maddox’s mind. 

But he shrugged off the sentimental talk with a sly upturn of his lips and looked over to the carousel slowly beginning to move, the drone of music playing at a speed akin to straining underwater to be heard, a siren’s call to explore. For Eli to explore-- Maddox had already stated the risks. “It’s also impossible to stop you from falling in love with ghosts, so. I warned you. But looks las if she would like to show you around. And you don’t listen to me at all.” He scratched at the scruff of his chin and then motioned for Bowie to track ahead of them. “If you want to explore a bit now, I’m here. But she’s no joke. Because I think you are her type, the way she’s showing off for you. Unless you plan on joining her on the other side.. don’t get too close. Protect yourself.”

She knew the carnival well, the funhouse better. There was something exhilarating about the room of mirrors, being able to see everyone and everything from every angle. Stella liked to know things. She reveled in details, like the tapping of fingertips in a one-two-one-two-two rhythm, or the way someone parted their hair. She was fascinated by minutiae, and often the world moved too fast for her to really indulge in it.

Sometimes she moved too fast, herself.

The door wasn’t heavy, but the snow was damp and thick, and she pulled it aside with some effort. People were still milling around, debating if they wanted to attempt the trek back to town. Another few had holed up inside the concessions house, finding refuge in the smell of stale popcorn amongst the barn rafters. But Stella–

“Oh, stop,” she chided, shutting the door firmly behind her. “It’s only little old me.” She didn’t use an orb to light her path, instead seeming to radiate light from all around her. An aura, golden and amplified. Enough to see her footsteps and the next step she needed to take, but not much else. That didn’t matter. She didn’t need sight to know that voice.

Stella cleared her throat, twitching a little. Her pert nose was red from the cold as she looked up the shaft of the staircase. Only vaguely could she make out a tuft of dark hair. She grinned up at him.

“Wanna make a snow angel?”

A familiar voice gently admonishing Maddox echoed from a point on a timeline long ago pushing into the present. The same correcting tone marking a correction from the past, when at that time she stood beside his desk and underscored exactly where he’d gone wrong in a lesson. 

The stern expression softened. Miss O’Connor, his professor, who then became Mrs. Dawes. But with the same charm as delicate yet sensible as a lace doily. It’s only little old me.

He stood from the top of the stairs and drew the edges of an unbuttoned coat close together. “I’d rather stab an eye out than make a snow angel. Not a slight to the lovely person inviting me. Just not into snow angels in general.” 

He took a few steps down on the stairs and held out a hand. “Care to come up? Suppose tonight admittance to the funhouse is free. For a former instructor.” 

“Yeah. Good to see you. Nice to have a familiar face in the ranks.”

Sanity. He’d been feeling the opposite of sane lately. “Funny you should say that.” Ban let the odd remark float there for a few moments as he lit up a cigarette of his own, peering sidelong at Maddox before staring straight ahead into the darkness again. He took a long drag off of the cigarette and lifted an eyebrow. “The only secret I’ve got to share with you is: shit’s fucked.”

Between hearing voices, strange creatures, and running into one of the few warlocks that came close to offing him in the war, Ban had had just about enough of the night shift.

Ban took the cigarette from his lips and dropped his arms in defeat. He dropped his head backward and blew smoke into the air. Being around Maddox made him think about the Academy, when things were simpler, even though Ban thought they were complicated. He’d never been lonely. He even shared space with Maddox for a time. Nowadays he was lucky if he could carry on a conversation with his familiar, much less another person. “Sometimes I can’t tell if I want my mind numbed or for something to fucking happen. You know what I mean?” It was like falling forever, moving too fast but feeling like you’re hardly moving at all, wrapped up in a sense of impending doom. A short sigh, he let it all go. “How’s the family?” Keyes was one of the few people Ban knew that had anyone left.

Nice to have a familiar face in the ranks. He smiled. Nodded. The whole Watchman thing was weird to Maddox. A militia vibe clung to the duties and title. Felt like they were still at war with opposing side but making a phony play at trying to be cohesive with those sides at the same time. 

But Maddox got on with Ban too, they’d been friends at the Academy. Knew enough about the other man to know aimlessly patrolling the town wasn’t exactly what he had in mind either. When Ban summarized the plight with ‘shit’s fucked’, he had to smile in agreement. “It is that. Fucked. Well said.” 

And he knew exactly what the other warlock meant again. He turned with the wind to his back to finally light the cigarette with an old Zippo, snapping it closed and puffing a few times to ensure the tip was lit. An inhale, an exhale, and he turned back to Ban. “Kind of like being in limbo but stretched a few ways too. I don’t know. Doesn’t help that some of our assignments are.. vague, to say the least.” Made him wonder if they served a purpose to protect or just to play hall monitor. Provide a security blanket for jittery townsfolk. He lifted the cigarette between long fingers, speaking before another drag. “At least we’ve got these.” 

Ban had lost his family, so it was all the more poignant Maddox would be asked about his. “The family is alright. Nora was in the war with me.” His older sister by ten years. Maddox and his sister had played a long game of tag pushing each other into harm’s way. No one won the game. “There were a few lost but on the whole everyone is trying to return to normal. But then again I’m no longer certain what normal is. Or is it just me?” 

He grinned and looked down at his shoes for a moment. “What’s say we fuck off from our posts and take the smoke break in full.” He gestured to the left, a path to an old mill. “Remember when we were at the Academy and would get a big group to sneak off for parties at the mill? It’s still standing. Bet none of the kids there now even know about it.” 

Maddox’s comment was repaid with a smile. She, indeed, considered the words to be one of the highest of appraisals. That seemed the thing about them, they didn’t always work or acted in conventional ways, and the fact that Mini was willing to leave the conundrum of the package aside so that she could give him attention was probably a gesture far more eloquent than her words might have been. For the time being, the disappointment of her bubbly box would be forgotten, and the intensity of her turquoise irises would focus on what they might be doing for the evening. So much was new to her in that situation, and there was much to be explored.

Throughout life and the disappointments the witch had faced, Mini had learned to expect the worst out of people. She spent a lot of her time analyzing people and their behavior, and she could often be one step ahead of them. Most people worked in predictable patterns. After a while, it was easy to tell what their next move was going to be. She thought she’d been content with the life she led until the warlock came along. Suddenly, the things Mini had been used to didn’t seem like enough anymore. She had been playing a game her entire life, then he showed up and changed the rules.

With Maddox, there was never a dull moment. They never ran out of things to talk about, and, in moments when words were no longer necessary, they could still understand one another. “You’re anything but predictable,” she mentioned, watching as he uncorked the bottle and talked about what had been inside his head. The brunette was used to always moving around. To always finding something to do. However, that sort of restless energy had never taken over her because of someone else.

Mini shifted her weight from one leg to the other. The gears of her brain seemed to be moving in all possible directions. She wanted to show him all the places, to share little parts of her world with the one person she could imagine doing that with.

She barely didn’t wait for him to pour them the wine. There were far too many things to do, and he was just taking too long at that menial task. Linking her arm with his, Mini dragged him further into the residence, through a long and narrow hallway that was illuminated by soft yellow lights that hung on both sides of the wall. An oak double door stood impressively to a side, and through their glass panels, one could have a glimpse of the inside. Sliding the doors open, Mini stepped inside a small lounge. A gramophone was placed near a wall and the brunette made her way to it, picking a record from a neatly organized shelf and putting it on.

A needle scratched the vinyl surface and, soon, Ella Fitzgerald’s voice filled the room in a rendition of ‘Stars fell on Alabama’. It was a soft ballad, and soon her body began swinging from side to side. She made her way back to Maddox. “We’d been speaking of a toast?” She recalled, wrapping her fingers around her glass again, while her free hand traveled over to her lips, thinking.

As long as he had known the witch she had the ability to travel at light speed in a thousand directions at once. In her home there seemed to be an urgency to focus the energy here, there, everywhere. Maddox didn’t mind being pulled along. In a cozy lounge he held the glasses and looked around. Warm, inviting, immaculate but not so much that it would prevent someone from relaxing. 

The opposite of most properties on the Keyes property, packed tight with decaying buildings, dust piled thick, dishes piled high. A permanent scuff of years of handprints on a light switch. Rifts in the ceiling, rats in the attic. Unloved, unkempt. The small shack Maddox moved into as a teenager to rebel against the main house was relatively clean but mostly empty. 

Maddox paused to look over her head to scan the shelf as she chose a vinyl from a collection meticulously kept and organized. The music selected complimented her lived-in home. Soft, moody, preserved in amber from another era. 

The warlock handed over the glass of red wine and watched her sway quietly. Maddox’s hardships during the war were held like a breath in his chest. He didn’t speak about it. He desperately wanted to return to life in the valley again but stepping back wasn’t as easy as falling into the melody of an old song. 

“You were always a bit better with words than I was at the Academy.” His school record was abysmal, attributed to boredom and generally fucking around. “Hm, let me think.” He paused and then lifted his glass. “How about a toast to every star that falls on the valley tonight? How’s that? I do expect some criticism back from you. Which is fine, I can handle it.” 

“She pissed me off,” he said, throwing one arm over the back of the pew. That was the truth, more or less. Tentative peace after five years of chaos and destruction was not going to be thrown away because of one wayward Church member. While their numbers were low and he would rather not lose a competent witch, the safety of all was more important than the life of one.

“If you’re having moral doubts about my decisions, Maddox, by all means. Now is the time to say so,” continued Valko, though his words were laced with a somewhat abrasive edge that had not been there before. “Go on. Get it off your chest.”

His gaze flickered down to the front of the man’s shirt for a split-second, and then all the way down to the boots that Nostradamus was watching without blinking, waiting for an opening in which to grab a shoelace and run. Valko’s lips curled up at the corners. He lifted the wine bottle, and indulged himself in a long chug. Standing took a little more motivation. He swung one leg off the pew, followed closely by the second. Leaning heavily on the back of the pew, he pushed himself up.

“Who hasn’t pissed you off..” 

His voice faded out. The prior leader of the Church of Dark had once called for Maddox, just after his expulsion from the Academy. The man was stern, intimidating. Callously bent when crossed, however ultimately fair in the end: ‘I am granting you another chance, Keyes. Another mistake of this magnitude and I will be forced to permanently remove you from the Church.’

Typically Valko spent most of his time holed up in a back office. Dedicated to being hands off and ensuring no bottles of alcohol were left full lying around. Loosely called ‘being a lazy sod’. But his flippant attitude had evaporated and coven leader appeared set on a firmer determination than usual. Unusual. 

If you’re having moral doubts.. A comment he’d never thought would ever be directed at him. Maddox wanted to scoff but instead responded flatly. “If I had moral doubts I wouldn’t have brought her here. And you wouldn’t have relied on me to begin with, yes? I was asking a simple question out of curiosity.” For all Maddox cared the middle of the night summons could be a booty call. The warlock only wanted to know if he could go home. 

“Is there anything else or can I leave?” 

A circle in a square had been blown apart and Maddox found himself in a familiar location: the entrance of the carnival funhouse. In the shrill undertone of howling wind he thought the coyote call of his familiar could be heard. Maddox answered. I’m at the carnival. Stay home.

If anyone else turned up after a spell which revolted against the town-- fuck ‘em. They were on their own. 

It was difficult to pry the door open with a few feet of snow already settled against the bottom. Once inside he produced a small orb of floating fire. More for heat than light. He knew the insides of the funhouse the way he knew every line etched on the palm of his hand. 

The long tunnel no longer spinning. Without the feet of visitors stepping on them the shifting staircase was also still and frozen. Maddox sat down at the top of them. It wasn’t long before he heard the creak of the door again, the sharp wail of weather growing louder before being muted again. “Go find another spot to wait out the storm. This one is taken.” 

His excitement flattened out to one simple, “Oh.” But well, Maddox was there and he supposed it didn’t matter via which universal force he got there. Mar raised her head as the warlock walked closed and ground her beak too occupied with her duty of keeping a watchful eye on the ghost to acknowledge him otherwise. Although she still snickered at funny man. Eli gave the bird a look, knowing it likely wouldn’t be the last time he heard that. 

Then an idea crept to his mind and with it the corners of his mouth tugged to a sly smile, “Does that mean I can now freely roam around here after closing time?” not that he wouldn’t anyways, but best not waste an opportunity to make it official, “I promise to be harmless of course, mostly.”

His gaze found the carousel, still and eerily lit in yellow glow, a faint smile pulled on his lips, “You did a good job, she must be pleased,” that’s where she seemed to be pulling him, the energy moving away from them, “Do you know her story?”

Mar shook herself relaxing a bit on his shoulder as the ghost moved further, she turned her head and eyed the little pup trotting behind Maddox curiously. Eli smiled and knelt down, “Hello there, who might you be?” he offered the pup his hand.

“No you cannot freely roam here. I don’t think my father is concerned with whether or not the spirits have pals to keep them company overnight. If he changes his mind I will happily be a personal reference for the job. But it probably isn’t one to hold out for.”  

Maddox felt the fog of the spectre wrapping around them in urgency, tugging at the lapels of his coat, giving his neck a passing mirage of soft flirtatious lips before flowing further towards the carousel. “I don’t know her story, no. But she’s very friendly, so be careful. She lured a cousin on the ride and trapped him there for 3 hours once.” Maddox recalled the scene vividly. Hilariously. Watching his father and uncle battle an old gearbox spitting sparks, the wheels grinding so fast together they began to glow a bright orange until they became shapeless and gnarled by the heat. “He was sick for a week after and avoids this entire section of the carnival now. Me, she knows better than to bother.”

The warlock gave Mar a scratch under a wing in greeting before urging his new familiar to approach the two. “Eli, meet Bowie. Bowie, Eli.” The coyote pup stalked slowly forward lifting his head high to sniff the air between them before tentatively circling Maddox’s friend. “You’re obligated to like him, Bowie. Just like I am.” 

She’s never been unruly, always tried to followed orders easily, she even trailed the path that was paved by her parents and her coven, albeit sloppily. While painting by colors was never a problem on the surface ― well, she had issues staying inside the lines, but she understood the concept ―  this simple order annoyed her. Something about being sent of to a location with all three covens at once…her mind loved focusing on parallels. Parallels helped her learn from ideas birthed from a poor or tired thought process, but parallels also left a nagging feeling at the base of her stomach if ever she found herself repeating unpleasant events. 

The hand that latches onto hers disrupts her thought process, she’s here for a reason, she can’t just let her mind wander like it so often did in class. The incantation had to be important if it required every last one of them. 

Titania takes a breath, clearing her mind of those pesky thoughts and focusing on the makeshift town square, and the witches and warlocks lining her field of vision. When she releases the breath she turns, holding her hand out for the person next to her to hold. She wiggles her fingers expectantly, the childish idiosyncrasy an odd contrast to her serious, almost annoyed expression. “Shall we?”

@darkxkeyes

The sting of the bracing cold outside was welcome after being holed up for hours with no one else but Rathmore. Finally free from the extended prison sentence, eyes lacking light looked up to reflect a seamlessly black overcast sky with the stars hidden by shrouds of clouds. The waning moon played hide and seek, a perfect sliver to match the time of night. 

The time when everything was meant to be silent. The smallest sounds amplified by the frost in the air. He could hear the rumble of incantations from yards away and see a mix of coven members clasping hands. Unnecessary, that. But whatever. 

Most of the valley in one spot including the elders and all coven leaders. A strange static hung heavy in the air. Maybe he was paranoid but it seemed dangerous. 

He listened for the call of his familiar in the distance. Let himself be drawn in by dancing fingers of a fellow coven member, taking her hand and uttering a quiet hum before responding. “Mhm, we shall.” His other hand hung at his side, waiting.

smokescreen. @darkxkeyes

A drop in temperature when the sun went down soaked through Ban’s coat and the scarf wrapped up to his chin. Made his eyes water. He watched his breath trail off into the air as he made his way down the sidewalk toward a streetlamp, under which stood a tall figure. As Ban got closer he recognized the man with dark hair. 

“Keyes,” he said. Ban was desperate for anything to break the monotony of this quiet night beat. Also on edge for that anything. Running into an old friend was about as much excitement as he wanted. “Smoke?” Ban asked quietly, retrieving a carton of cigarettes from his inner coat pocket and offering it to the taller warlock.

Maddox shivered in a dark wool coat. Miserably cold. The damp made harsh when the wind bit down with a reminder it was still there. Settling in every step one took, hooked around every corner possible of hiding behind, and weaved through layers of clothing to reach skin. The only saving grace of warmth was a drink from his flask which he took occasionally. 

He paused under a light to screw the cap back on until he heard the other man approaching. “Ban. Been a while, hasn’t it?” He’d known Ban from the Academy and after. “Good to see you. Feel like all we’ve done is shake hands at Watchmen meetings lately.” Those all too serious gatherings left no time for socializing either. He nodded and took a cigarette offered with a thank you, placing it behind an ear temporarily as he held out the flask. “Maybe you can pass along your secret for getting through these long nights with your sanity intact, hm? So far it’s been mind-numbing out here.”

Thick fog rolled over the landscape. The gate was closed yet the gleam from carnival rides left on for the night lit the darkness in a hazy glow. Quite perfect, thought he, the bird on his shoulder ruffling her feathers while the hairs on the back of his neck stood in the rising feeling of electricity in the air. 

Steps quiet on the gravel he followed the presence he had felt in the mist from behind the gates. It was a curious feel, sly, eerie, mysterious, a smile pulled on his lips as he felt the ebb and flow, the rise and fall, a dancer, she was luring him. 

He stopped, attention pulled to the other direction with the sound of approaching footsteps. He grinned, “You are getting quite adept,” he said, “I didn’t even have to start screaming into your brain to get you here.”

@darkxkeyes​

The protective bloom of Mar’s feathers could be seen in the moonlight as she rested on Eli’s shoulder. As much as he’d like to slip into an invisible veil of incantation and sneak up on the man it would be useless considering the connection they maintained. He followed slowly with his familiar likewise at his heels, Maddox issuing a silent signal to Bowie that Eli was friend and not foe. 

“No, because my cousin came over and told me a funny man with a bird was standing outside the gates after closing time. I assured him Mar was nothing but perfect. And you were harmless. Mostly.” A smile. “And you were probably there to make friends, and to leave the gate open.”

He looked ahead to fog curling up like smoke, a languid figure with an arm outstretched, a hand with dainty fingers rolling sequentially towards the palm calling to Eli. “The carousel was the first thing my father found when putting this place together. It was abandoned in another town. He made me sand and paint every one of those bleedin’ horses too. Took me months. We didn’t know she came with the carousel until it was up and running though. A two-for-one bargain.” 

“And don’t you happen to find that even slightly unsettling? I mean, we have no more answers now than we did before we opened the box. Doesn’t that bother you?” She wondered. Well, Maddox knew her, so, Mini was positive he might have been able to tell where her frustration stemmed from. The gears of her brain were still turning, still trying to come up with hypothesis and scenarios to make what was happening click into sense. So far, she hadn’t found satisfying answers.

Mini was caught off guard by the question. What would they have started with five years ago? She wondered. It had always seemed like there were so many things she wished to show him, that she wished to share with him because it felt as if he would have been the only one person who might have been capable of understanding. But, where would they have started? And, suddenly, she knew. She just felt it in her bones, and it made perfect sense. “Come with me,” she whispered, taking his hand in hers and moving through the house, her feet barely even touching the ground.

Opening a door to what might have, at first, looked like a coat’s closet, Mini flicked on a light switch, illuminating the small room. Shelves were fully stocked with a variety of wine. A smile came onto her lips. “Five years ago, I would have brought you here first, and told you to pick one,” she stated. “Though that would be me giving you carefully laid out plans, and expecting you to conform with them. You’re not that person, are you, Maddox?” she asked. “Five years ago, I’d have offered you wine. Where would you go from there?” she asked, expecting the unexpected.

"No, I wouldn’t say unsettling. Not even slightly. Not at all. Sounds a bit drastic to me actually. The word. Unsettling.” A scoff. First of all he had just witnessed a very nosy cat float away. In a bubble. Brilliant was what he thought of the prank. But it seemed to be only that: someone playing obnoxious and fairly harmless tricks on unsuspecting people via mail. “However, I find you a lot more interesting than a box. Consider it a high compliment.” He was two seconds away from making said box disappear too, however that might not end well for Thack if he did. 

Being with Mini was similar to wandering in a garden maze. Reaching dead ends in her attention, trying to find a new path to get back to her or move forward. Occasionally wishing to chop down a hedge altogether and leap ahead. Sometimes he wished to be completely annoyed, entirely infuriated, to make leaving easy.

A maze was intriguing because quite by accident a corner could be rounded revealing just enough to keep one entertained, which he’d seemed to have done as she led him to a small room with wine stored. As she spoke his eyes scanned rows of bottles. He reached high for one covered in a fine layer of dust. “Hate to disappoint but when it comes to drinking I’m fairly predictable.” His gaze lifted from the bottle cradled in his hands with a smile. 

“So: I’d say we’d share a toast and a drink together. I’d want to kiss you after the first sip to see what it tasted like, but you would’ve been thinking about some silly box that was sent here five years in the future. I’d hope to have forgotten why your brain works like that, but sadly I had not. Instead I’d ask to see where you work on your potions. All the while a little sad you’d not put on some music.”

Magic could lead the way in setting them up with drinks but it wasn’t as satisfying as moving to search for glasses in her cupboards, in cutting away the wax seal of valley born red wine, twisting into the cork and hearing soft pop of it pulling out. Maddox glanced over. “And no, music isn’t meant for background noise but I’m confident we can pause at all the right places to fully enjoy it. You’re killing me slowly by the way. This vinyl collection has been bragged about and all I hear is the sleet outside.”