𝖛𝖆𝖑𝖎𝖆𝖓𝖙 / 𝑾𝑰𝑪𝑲𝑬𝑫

vasilisa felt no real sense of urgency as she sipped her drink, tracing idly over the mysterious envelope that had appeared on the bar counter. despite how much she hated the place, she had an odd amount of faith in being taken care of. after all, the wonderful mr. enright must be hospitable if he didn’t want his imprisoned guests causing a riot, and in all the time she’d been here, she had never once been uncomfortable. furious, yes. resentful, yes. but uncomfortable? her soft mattress and closet brimming with clothes said otherwise.

this power outage must be a mistake, a trick — before she knows it, the lights will flicker back to life. some entity, some force, will have fixed it. just kidding! they’ll say. did i scare you?

“ not that i can think of, unless you have any other ideas? ” she arched an eyebrow. “ i surely am not taking a trip to the electrical box. but it is odd, don’t you think? the powers go out. ” she lifted the envelope up between two fingers. “ these show up. this hotel is full of too many riddles. ”

          he didn’t want to think anymore.  trying to figure out what was going on was like trying to figure out what all goes into the atomic bomb   ―   far too complex for him to figure out.  even if he knew that type of information, he wouldn’t quite know what to do with it.  probably just store it away until someone asked him about it then spout it off like it was THAT obvious.  he knew quite a lot of information but the majority of it wasn’t applicable right now.

          ❝  i’ve tried going down to the electrical box.  the only reason WHY i can see people going to the basement is if they want t’get lost.  i   wouldn’t   recommend it ‘cause who knows if you’ll be getting back to us.  oh,   definitely odd.    majorly odd.  as far as i’m aware, we’ve never been in the complete darkness before.  ❞     fionn shrugged as he reached for his glass, drinking roughly half before setting it back down and eyeing the envelope vasilisa was holding up.  envelopes?     ❝  where’d you get that?  ❞

          a yawn as he looks around the garden in the minimal lighting.  with the lights being out, it really took a toll on his sleep schedule.  fionn felt like he should be awake but his body said otherwise.  who knew that being in the complete darkness for long periods would do this.  at least the rooftop garden offered   some sort of solace.    it was a reminder of home: of ireland and the farm.  his heart   ached   with longing of a place he thinks he’ll never return to.  little did he know was that the farm was still up and running, just taken after his descendants   ―   well, his brother’s direct descendants   ―   as his family still clung onto the faint hope of finding out the truth of the mystery surrounding fionn’s disappearance.

          thankfully, he was able to navigate his way around the garden without bumping into too many things.  he practically knew it like the back of his hand.  which meant, he also knew when someone else was here.  it wasn’t at first that he felt the other presence but when he was halfway through checking the soil to see if the plants needed water.     (  most of them did.  )     fionn didn’t mind the other person being here.  in fact, he was kind of glad to have the company, it could get kind of lonely up here.  he remained quiet, going about his business.  if the other one didn’t want to speak then he wouldn’t either.  sometimes all you needed was to be around another to feel safe and that’s what he felt.

although  his  silhouette  is  darkened  against  the  backdrop  of  the  hall,  she  can  see  the  shift  of  his  arms  and  the  way  they  are  braced.  it’s  a  gut  reaction  for  him,  she’s  sure.  it  stings  a  little  that  it’s  used  in  defense  against  her,  as  if  she’d  ever  hurt  him.  rather  than  using  that  knife  in  defense,  she  uses  it  to  protect  the  both  of  them,  the  blade  pointed  outward  at  her  side.      “  throw  a  punch  at  me,  macdonagh,  and  we’re  going  t’have  more  problems  than  just  the  power  being  out,  ”      it’s  not  an  actual  threat,  just  a  quip  to  break  the  tension  of  the  space.      “  besides,  y’know  i  could  take  you  on  my  worst  day.  ”      she  wonders  if  he  can  hear  the  smile  in  her  voice.  she  reaches  out  to  circle  one  of  his  fists  with  her  free  hand,  squeezing  the  knuckles,      “  breathe.  ”

          the last name.  a nickname picked up in the army.  a name that he regularly goes by now.  it bring back flashes of memories of sitting around a table, laughing and smiling with friends who didn’t make it out of the attack;  flashes of eyes who were filled with fear and terror;  flashes of bodies around him in the ocean.  fionn blinks a couple of times before his eyes focus back on the darkened visage of macie in front of him.     ❝  that’s only because you don’t play fair, sullivan,  ❞     he retorted.     ❝  you bring knives to a fist fight.  ❞     at the feeling of her hand upon his own,  he relaxed slightly.  he wasn’t fighting.  he was in the raven house hotel.  he was safe.

          fionn’s shoulders dropped after a couple of deep breaths and slowly lowered his hands.  he hoped that she knew that he wouldn’t raise a hand towards her in a negative way  —  never.  despite their radically different personalities, they manage to keep each other in check and start a tumultuous, at times, friendship.     ❝  you okay?  with the power being out and everything?  ❞

timestamp:   ——  ,  NULL .   ·   location:   where  else?   the  raven  house  ,  MADNESS  TAKES  IT’S  TOLL .   ·   tagging:   open  for  everyone !

when  the  power  flickered  the  first  time,  macie  thought  maybe  she  was  seeing  things.  maybe  the  exhaustion  or  the  stress  or  something  had  finally  caused  her  to  snap.  but  then  it  happened  again,  and  again,  until  finally  the  power  disappeared  completely,  leaving  the  room  with  a  gentle  hum.   “ shit, ”   the  word  is  blown  out  on  a  soft  breath.  fingers  instantaneously  slide  down  her  thigh  to  reaffirm  that  the  bowie  knife,  her  safety  net,   was   still  within  reach  as  if  it  ever  left.  it  lessens  the  tightening  in  her  chest.  she  fumbles  around  in  the  dark  for  the  candle  that  is  kept  on  the  desk  in  her  room.  she’d  only  thought  it  was  decorative.  when  her  fingers  finally  find  purchase  on  it,  she  realizes  there’s  no  point.  she  doesn’t  have  a  light.

stepping  into  the  hall  does  nothing  to  help  the  uneasiness  that  has  settled  into  her  stomach.   no  emergency  lights.   what  kind  of  fucking  nightmare  was  this?  there’s  something,  maybe  it’s  anxiety  or  knowing  she’s  been  caught  in  situations  like  this  before,  that  makes  her  grip  the  bowie.  using  her  other  hand,  she  feels  down  the  wall  as  she  walks  for  the  dip  that  will  lead  to  the  stairs.  it’s  only  when  she  hits  the  bottom  that  she  runs  clear  into  another  body.   “ fuck! ”   c’mon  sullivan,  you’re  better  than  that  —  but  hey,  at  least  you  didn’t  stab  them. 

          a quick flicker caused a head turn.   a second flicker caused fionn to get up from his desk.   —  then the lights went out.   he tried to reach forward to his desk,  trying to find the candles and the lighter he had.   he was used having sometimes the power going out, especially during heavy storms.    he did always make sure that he had candles and matches.    of course,  he couldn’t find what he was looking for.   a frustrated sigh as he shuffled his way to the door.   he could tell where that was at least.

          he put his hand out against the wall,  fingers spread wide and slightly in front of him.   cautious footsteps forward,  listening for anything that could mean danger.   one step at a time.   he absolutely strained to hear anyone  —  anything.   it was so eerily quiet, like a pin could drop.

          ❝ ——   oof, ❞     he lets out the breath was held.   body tenses as he turns,  hands up in fists ready to fight.   he was war-trained and instincts honed.   fionn could take on anyone without a second thought.   survival was his main thing right now, no matter who he was going to meet and greet during this absolute darkness.  he couldn’t see who it was but the voice was higher pitched.     ❝ who are you ? ❞

location: bar & lounge 

music cuts, lights go out; the quiet hits her first. do you know what it is like to sit in silence? you still hear tchaikovsky in your dreams. unease settles, and she washes it down with the rest of her scotch. if this malfunction is out of her hands, then at least she refuses to be scared.

someone takes the seat across from her, though she can’t make out their features in the dim candlelight, the only illumination left. and what a pathetic glow it is—for all its opulence, the raven house should sorely invest in working lightbulbs. “ i don’t suppose you are an electrician, ” she says dryly, pouring herself another glass before holding the decanter out. “ drink? ”

          when the lights cut out,  fionn grabbed for the dogtag hidden beneath his shirt.   what was going on ?   a deep breath;  in through the nose, out through the mouth.   it’s fine.   this is the raven house hotel,  rarely nothing bad happened here.   it’s fine.   another breath;  in through the nose, out through the mouth.   relax.   the irishman slowly dropped his hand and his eyes slowly did adjust to the darkness around him.   shapes slowly came into view.

          he made his way to the bar area,  the room softly lit up by candles.   it was a whole different experience.   he actually kind of liked it.   how the soft glows of candle flames mixed with the  slightly stale  beer air.   it oddly reminded him of home.   fionn sat down next to vasya and offered her a smile.   if she could see it, that is the next question.     ❝ uh,  no.   might as well, there’s nothing else that can be done, ❞     he replied, reaching out to grab the glass to begin pouring some into his own.

𝐜𝐨𝐦𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐨𝐮𝐭 𝐨𝐟 𝐦𝐲 𝐜𝐚𝐠𝐞 𝐚𝐧𝐝 𝐢'𝐯𝐞 𝐛𝐞𝐞𝐧 𝐝𝐨𝐢𝐧𝐠 𝐣𝐮𝐬𝐭     —     𝐟𝐮𝐜𝐤  !    hey there, i’m loey and welcome to my crib.   you’re definitely going to want to click on the image above to view it in its full splendor because t*mblr is a bitch and reduces the quality.   you’re going to be meeting the only man i’ll ever consider dating and who just wants to be back on his family farm with his family.   he’s not much for words but he’s a great listener and take care of your plants when you’re away.   if you want to get a piece of this lovely irishman, please  leave a like  and i’ll come sliding into your dms with a joke or a pun   —   whichever i find funnier at the time.

waves crashing up against boat .  fog laying low on an abandoned meadow full of wildflowers .  quiet serenity of walking through a field barefooted .  lingering smell of gun smoke in the air .  softs bahs of lambs .  high-stressed situations being calmed down by a friend's smile .     ———     oh gosh, sorry      𝐅𝐈𝐎𝐍𝐍  𝐌𝐀𝐂𝐃𝐎𝐍𝐀𝐆𝐇 !     i didn't see you there !   y'know, i can't believe you're already TWENTY-SEVEN years old; seems like just yesterday you were tripping over yourself, or was that yesterday ?   just kidding, just kidding !   anyway, i hear that you've    been here since 1916,    or so you think; congratulations !   at least that shining DECISIVE personality of yours hasn't changed a bit, especially that 𝐇𝐀𝐑𝐃-𝐖𝐎𝐑𝐊𝐈𝐍𝐆 + 𝐂𝐎𝐌𝐏𝐋𝐈𝐀𝐍𝐓, but 𝐏𝐑𝐈𝐕𝐀𝐓𝐄 + 𝐑𝐈𝐓𝐔𝐀𝐋𝐈𝐒𝐓𝐈𝐂 way about you.  look, i gotta get back to the group, but i'll see you around !