My Writing Blog

“You have to let me finish and then I’ll do your nails too, if you really want.”

It was at that moment that Neve looked up from her desk.  Rook was a few steps into her room in the Lighthouse, and had frozen in place when she heard Neve speak.

“That was… I was talking to the wisp,” Neve explained quickly.  “It keeps getting in the way.”  She gestured with the small, teal-tinted brush to the wisp hovering just over her other hand, blocking her view as she attempted to precisely apply the pigment.

Rook put her hands on her hips and gave a sassy smirk.  “Oh, so you don’t want to do my nails?  I’m hurt.”

“You’ll have to let me finish here first.”

“I’m only joking-”

“Sit,” Neve said firmly.  “I just have two fingers left.  You’re in charge of the wisp.”

That was an easy enough task, it seemed, since the wisp floated around Rook as she sat, bobbing up and down in the air to examine her and her intrusion.  That was enough time for Neve to finish applying the polish without any further interruption.

“Pick a color.”

“You know, you really don’t have to do this,” Rook replied.

“I don’t mind.  It’s soothing for me.  Especially compared to whatever was happening in the kitchen when I left.”

Rook contemplated aloud, “I’m not sure we’re going to have a kitchen when Lucanis is done berating Harding for crimes against pasta.  Here-” she handed a small bottle to Neve “-this one.”

Neve shook the bottle a few times, mixing around the shimmering, regal purple hue.  She instructed Rook to place her hands on the desk, and set to work, carefully applying even strokes to each nail.  After a moment, Rook chuckled.

“What is it?”

“Sorry, it’s just… your hands are really soft.”

“Oh?”  Neve asked with surprise, a small smile on her lips.

“That was weird.  Sorry, don’t mind me.”

Neve laughed.  “It’s fine.  I can think of worse compliments.  Besides, safe to say that your hands need to be moisturized more.”

“Not all of us can just conjure blizzards.  Some of us have to use real weapons,” Rook teased, before getting lost in thought watching Neve work.  “I’ve never had my nails painted before.”

“Really?  Well, come back when this starts to chip, and I’ll get you a new coat.”

“You sure?  I really don’t mean to bother you.”

“It’s fine,” Neve insisted.  “Like I said, I find it calming.  And besides, you’re a far a better client than any of these wisps.”

“I hear wisps make lousy tippers too.”

Neve smirked.  “Does that mean you’re giving me a tip for my services?”

“I’m sure I can think of something.  Since our kitchen is a warzone right now, how about all the fried fish you could want down at the docks?”

“Careful, you might just run out of coin before I get my fill.”

“We’ll have to see about that, then,” Rook said with a smile. 

Neve finished her work with a topcoat, then picked up Rook’s hand and blew air over the freshly painted nails.  She knew it didn’t do anything to dry them faster, but it was worth it to see the bright red flush in Rook’s face. 

“There, all done,” Neve announced.  She released Rook’s hand, noting how it took her a few moments to regain her composure.

“Thank you.  These are… this was nice.”  Rook looked over her nails, examining the color in the swirling light of the Fade.

“Like I said, come back and I’ll get you a new coat, new color, whatever you like.”

Rook started to meander toward the door, still glancing between her nails and Neve as she moved.  The blush in her cheeks was obvious, even where the light was dimmer.  “I should go… make sure everyone’s alright in the kitchen.  We don’t need Harding getting stabbed or Lucanis getting turned to stone.  But, come find me later.  I haven’t forgotten about your payment for this.”  They held up their hand so Neve could see her work.

“You better not.  Good luck in there,” Neve called as Rook left her room.

She started to put away her various polishes, a smile on her face.  It was nice to do something so simple and casual with Rook – no Venatori, no world-ending catastrophes, no earth-shattering epiphanies that threw their beliefs into question.  Rook was still snarky and stubborn, but she was cute when she blushed.

Before Neve could wander down that road of thinking any further, the same infuriating wisp that had interrupted her previously darted in front of her face.

With a sigh, she remarked, “I suppose I did say I would do your nails when I was done with my own.  But you don’t even have nails!”

In the distance future, the populace has Receptors implanted in their temple. These are small devices that feature a program to help the user get through their day and handle various clerical tasks. When private investigator Arthur Lester starts looking into the death of a programmer, a new, more vicious program moves into his Receptor and begins taking control of his body. He is forced to rely on this program as they work together to find its source, learning how to both navigate the world and trust their new partner.

This was written for the 2023 Malevolent Big Bang (@malevolentbigbang)! I was so fortunate to work with two incredibly talented artists, Alan and KM! They made artwork for chapters 3 and 5! Please check out their blogs and gush over their art because I Cannot stop staring at it.

“So, how did you enjoy your first film?”

“I enjoyed it quite a bit, actually,” John replied haughtily.  “I suppose I should say thank you for finally taking me to see one.”

“We have been a little preoccupied with other concerns, you know,” Arthur remarked, then softened.  “All the same, I’m glad you enjoyed it.  Happy Valentine’s Day, John.”

“Valentine’s Day?”

Arthur explained, “It’s a little holiday we have here, where people celebrate the bonds that they have with the people closest to them.”

“I see.  Safe to say we do have a pretty… inseparable bond.”

“That’s one way to describe it,” Arthur chuckled.  “And I care about you a great deal, so taking you out to a film, something I know you’ve wanted to do for a while, seems the least I can do, particularly today.”

“Well, thank you, really.  Maybe, if we have another free day… we could see another one?”

“If we have time,” Arthur acquiesced with a smile.

After a quiet moment, John said, “I care about you too, Arthur.”

“I know.  But it is good to hear you say it.”

Arthur makes no response.  Before despair can fully consume John, he shakes the fear away.  Maybe he can still stop the bleeding?

With his hand – or, Arthur’s hand, the one that John just happens to control – he presses down on the wound in Arthur’s abdomen, ignoring the quantity of blood that coats their skin.

Why didn’t he listen?  Just this once?  If they had let that other person, the one who had escaped the beast’s grasp before, serve as a distraction, maybe Arthur wouldn’t be bleeding out on the floor!  But he never listened, did he?  Maybe… maybe…

John stops these thoughts.  He and Arthur argued enough when he was alive.  No, he corrects himself, he’s still alive, he is just unconscious from the blood loss, he’s still here, he has to be.  They can bicker again if he wakes up.  When he wakes up.

Because he has to wake up. John only now barely considers what may happen to him if Arthur passes away, but that is still so far from his main concern.  He would willingly and eagerly return to the Dark World, to the Dreamlands, to the King himself if it meant that Arthur would wake up, that he would breathe, that he would open his eyes, that he would call out for John just one more time.

But as John continues to press down on their abdomen, knowing how futile his attempts to staunch the bleeding are now that Arthur’s heart has stopped, numbness begins to spread through his arm.  When he goes to make a fist to ward off the feeling, his fingers won’t move.

Arthur winced in pain as John wrapped a bandage around the still bleeding gash that ran along his right forearm.  They were lucky – it could have been much, much worse, but that didn’t stop it from hurting or from John letting his thoughts be heard.

“This was reckless, Arthur. You need to pay more attention.”

“It was a mistake.”

“A mistake that nearly cost you the only arm you have left!”  John cried.  He pulled the bandage a little too tight with his outburst and took the time to readjust it before continuing.  “I don’t want you getting hurt like this.”

“I know, I know.  Can’t have your host dying on you.”

“You think that’s what this is about?”

“Isn’t it?”

“Obviously our lives are intrinsically bound together for the time being.  But that is not what this is about.  I need you, Arthur, and not because my existence depends on your continued survival.  Even if it didn’t… I still need you.”  John ran a finger along the edge of the bandage, gently brushing against Arthur’s skin as he did so.  “And watching you make these choices, carelessly and thoughtlessly barging into danger… I can’t help but wonder if you’re…”

Set after the first epilogue, Zolf comes to visit Hamid in Cairo.  They find themselves relying on each other to cope with the Change and everything they lost, and become closer than they ever were while trying to save the world. They work to fit their new relationship in with the one that Zolf and Wilde already share, while forming something new amongst the three of them and finding solace in each other.

My piece for the 2022 Rusty Quill Big Bang, organized by @pilesofnonsense.