BLINK & YOU MISS IT

“I’ve gotta say,” Leo glanced around at the bar’s surroundings, keen eyes catching most every movement before returning to Selwyn, “I’m half expecting someone with guns blazing to come bursting through that door any second now.” Trouble seemed to follow her around and despite the shock of seeing her in town, and the irony she didn’t know about surrounding how they met, he couldn’t help his observation. “Please don’t tell me I should’ve broken out the kevlar.” After all, he’d been shot when they first met, though it was partially his fault, even if she didn’t know that.

The Voodoo Dive Bar was really a piece of shit bar and Leo was fine with that. They didn’t glare at him for smoking inside and he could drink in peace, leg jigging up and down restlessly as it tended to do whenever he wasn’t running. He got his second drink of the night, taking a drag of his cigarette when he saw someone walk in and automatically stiffened. The part of him that wanted to run was just as stubborn as the part that wanted to stay out of defiance. As if to say you left me and I still didn’t fucking die. 

He decided he’d let the DuPont be the uncomfortable party this time. He wasn’t leaving. Taking a swig of his beer, he stared from his seat, uncaring if he bore holes into the backs of their head as he did so. There was no love lost between Leo and those he’d been at the Institute with years ago. Any sentiment had become fuel and that had kept him going despite their abandonment. Despite the next years he endured practically alone. No, there was no love lost between them, so when he caught their eye, he remained impassive, as cold as a statue carved from stone. 

“Cookies? Where did you buy cookies?” Excitement laced his words. If there were cookies around, he absolutely needed to grab a few boxes. He couldn’t pass this chance up. Eymen had been running. He tried to work out as frequently as he could. He slowed to a walk and was working on cooling down when Leo started talking. If he worked out, then he definitely deserved to get a box of cookies. “I wish I had cookies, though I wouldn’t be selling them.” 

The other man’s reaction isn’t what he expects, but the sight of the cookies immediately explains it. “Whoa, tough guy. I’m not a girl scout,” he goads with a dry chuckle, holding his hands up to show he doesn’t have a weapon in his hands… or cookies, for that matter. “Oh, hey, you got the Samoas. Excellent choice.”

****

“Oh geez. Sorry, didn’t mean to sneak up on you,” she chuckled. He may as well had startled her for turning around quickly as she was ending a phone call. Ayla was leaving the coffee shop and decided a nice stroll back to her place would be nice considering how beautiful the weather was at the moment. As she rounded the corner, she two was convinced to buy some girl scout cookies. Fortunately, she had too big of a sweet tooth to turn that down and ended up buying four boxes to stock in her pantry. “What flavor did they convince you to invest in?” She remembered growing up and seeing those girls in their uniforms around town. Ayla had tried to convince her mother to let her join as a way to make some more friends. However, out of fear that her daughter would be seeing ghost, that option was completely cut off entirely. Oh, how she hated her mother at times.

Charlie gave the man a polite smile at the question he posed back to him. A vistor, then. Nothing that required more suspicion than a simple inquiry that he’d already given as to the nature of his visit. “I am,” he confirmed for the man, holding his hand out in a well-mannered offering. “Charlie Sol. I’m glad to hear that your friends speak highly of Asphodel. There’s of history here and you’re here just around the corner from our Summer Soltice celebration. Will you be staying to partake?” 

“Shit,” Leo swore at the person who’d nearly shoved some kid in his direction at a crowded bar. He caught the other guy on the shoulder, helping him upright and setting his now spilled drink on the bar top. “What a fucking asshole,” he noted, shaking his drink-soaked hand out ashe glared at the retreating ball-capped figure who was heading to a table with a bunch of other frat bros, drinks in hand, “you good, man?” He glanced at the other, realizing that he’d lost part of his drink too. 

@leoxvandoren

In retrospect, he could have handled this better.

For starters, he really needed to stop doing chores better suited to their bus boys, but more importantly, he needed to stop leaving loose ends in this town that showed up while he was taking out the garbage. It was how he had ended up in his current predicament, cornered in the alley behind the Voodoo, a rather crude switchblade held to his throat after the two burly men had grown tired of his silver tongue. Now normally a few well chosen words was enough to get him out of any misunderstanding and when that failed, a few veiled threats, but unfortunately those weren’t working as well as they usually did.

“Now gentlemen, if I really can’t satisfy your demands, perhaps this is something we should bring to my boss.” Emil chose his words carefully, aware that he had a limited number left. His tone was as level and self-assured as ever, something that seemed to piss off his current companions more than assuage them. “Your boss can’t keep his own house in order, why would he waste his time on you?” Ah, there it was. The reason this exchange was happening now after nearly a year of a mutual ceasefire between the two businessmen; they saw a weak spot.

It was at that moment, however, that Emil spotted theirs. The footsteps of a stranger, either lost or intrigued by the back alley exchange, and while Warrick wasn’t shy about violence, he couldn’t afford to tarnish his public record…again. Parole, after all, was a tricky thing. “You might want to put that somewhere less conspicuous for the moment,” Emil suggested, helpful as ever, and with a quick glance over his shoulder, Warrick begrudgingly obliged, shifting the weapon so it was pressed much more subtly at the bartender’s side. 

“Hey, did you get turned around?” Emil greeted as the stranger approached, his usual friendly smile masking the uncomfortable situation surrounding him. “The Voodoo entrance can be a bit tricky to find. I’m happy to show you around to the front if you need help.” Please need help.

Leo had gone out for a smoke when he heard the struggle. Well, okay, maybe he’d seen those men follow the bartender out and figured it was a convenient time to break from his drinking for a smoke and if he happened upon them, that was that. Quick eyes caught the subtle glint of metal disappearing, even in the dark right as he rounded the corner. Taking a drag of his cigarette, he exhaled a moment later, nodding. Maybe his recent run in with Dev had put him in a mood to fight, or maybe he was just itchy to get moving –– it had been a few hours already since the last time he really had. Whatever it was, he wasn’t exactly looking like he wanted to leave and the plea on the other man’s face was apparent. 

“Did they get turned around then?” He nodded in the direction of the two men he’d seen follow the guy out, “I mean, not surprising –– hardly looks like they’d know their right from their left, much less a tricky-to-find-entrance,” Leo goaded, knowing full well they could hear every word. He dropped the end of his cigarette, stomping it out with the heel of his boot and raised a brow at the two men, ignoring the look of let’s get the fuck out of here on the man who’d been talking to him. 

starter for: @leoxvandoren​ location: lou’s diner, 3pm

The first time she thought she saw Leo, she dismissed it as a figment of her imagination, an inkblot of a person that she must’ve mistaken someone for they weren’t. He disappeared into the crowd, anyway, and she wasn’t in any place to chase after him when she might end up making a fool out of herself.

But then she saw him a second time just as she was about to leave Voodoo some night after. She attributed it to her lightly intoxicated state and chose not to pursue the rabbit that would drag her back into the hole she’d just barely escaped out of.

And now, as she’s sitting near the window at Lou’s, working on her lesson plan for when the schools open back up, the man that passes by is unmistakable. It may have been a couple of years since they’d last seen each other in person, but there’s no way she’ll forget that face.

Dark curls are pushed out of her eyes as she contemplates on whether or not to go after him, then bolts up from her seat, startling the few other patrons around her. Pushing through the door, she nearly stumbles out into the street in the most dramatic fashion that one could reunite with an old acquaintance.

“Leo!”

Her voice was like lightning. Almost immediately, Leo spun around, doing his best to restrain himself from running in the direction of the voice to see if his ears deceived him. Instead, he stopped short and spun around, doing a double take when his eyes landed on her. Brow raised and smile stretching across his feature, Leo shook his head. “Nadia? What the hell?” 

He closed the distance between them, stopping short just a few feet away with a huff of laugher as he rubbed the back of his neck absentmindedly. “I thought you were in California?” Or at least that’s the last place he remembered her saying she was. Fuck, he was a shitty friend, wasn’t he? Clearing his throat, he gestured at her, still smiling, still glad to see her. 

Osun blinks up at the man and they’re wearing the exact same sunglasses as he is, “See, blatantly still making eye contact, aren’t I?” Osun tilts their head to the side, aware they have ‘glasses’ on their face but still seeing the man with perfectly, untinted clarity. 

In the next moment, that blip of magic dissipates and it’s back to Osun sans sunglasses and laughing at his assumption they’re stone cold, “The little monsters only try to sell me things when they’ve got some new, obscure recipe their mothers want to test on willing subjects,” Osun explains cheerfully, gesturing at themselves when they say ‘willing subjects’. Thank the heavens that Osun has no known allergies. 

“What’d you get?” Osun asks, peering down into his hands at the box of goods, perhaps very slightly hoping he will be a sucker towards Osun too and give them some.

@leoxvandoren​

Location: The Pit @leoxvandoren​

Dom slipped into the abandoned warehouse that made up the Pit, the hood of his jacket flipped up and his spelled disguise already in place. This was only a few weeks after the ‘incident’ (where Helena had pinned him down effectively when he lost control of his powers and he had to be picked up by Monty like an errant, misbehaving child), and though Dom was already besieged with the uncomfortable weight of guilt as he imagined Monty’s reaction to his coming back here, he told himself that he was only here to watch this time. 

He wouldn’t put himself in danger, this time. 

Dom caught sight of Helena in the upper stands and moved in the opposite direction, weaving through the crowds until he found a knot of people just thick enough for him to loose himself into, hunching his shoulders forward so he made a smaller target. He then turned his gaze towards the fight, his eyes locking on the opponent nearest him first - Jared Cole, another Pit regular, a lean, dark-eyed man with a crooked smile and even more crooked intentions. Dom fought against him once and didn’t enjoy the experience at all. He wondered which sorry sob drew the unlucky lot of being paired off against him.

It was almost laughable, as if the world around him had come to a shuddering standstill and yet his thoughts raced a mile a minute. It could have been something out of a cinematic reel really, though if Dom was the lead actor he’d already have forgotten every line, every cue that followed that scene’s startling realization. The absurdity of it all edged him to the point of hysteria - as if it were taken straight out of an afternoon soap opera - yet it was the cold grip of reality that had him frozen, pinned to his spot. 

Like a specter from his past, Leo Van Doren stood at the other side of the ring, his face unmistakable even at a distance. 

Leo hadn’t planned on coming to The Pit but there he was anyway. He’d heard about it form someone and decided to check it out out of boredom. He had things to do. People to see and kidnap but that was beside the point. Really, Leo needed to move with purpose. He was already restless in Asphodel but something told him that The Pit would prove interesting enough for now.

Somehow he’d been convinced to fight in the midst of it too and that made him laugh to himself. He hated enclosed spaces and yet there he was, voluntarily entering one for some spare change. Though, from what he heard, it wasn’t exactly petty cash if you won. He wasn’t planning to do much, and he certainly wasn’t planning to give away what he could do as he shrugged off his leather jacket, tucking sunglasses into one of the pockets and dragging an arm across his chest in a stretch. As if he’d need to. 

The man across from him was exactly what he’d expect at a place like this. Not a giant but solid like a statute, he could tell as much from the other side of the ring. But it would take more than shit talk and dirty looks to make Leo quake in his boots. He nodded at the other man who simply glared at him, barring teeth. He was missing one, Leo noted, but it didn’t exactly take away from the look Cole was trying to give off. 

Still, looks hardly mattered when you couldn’t catch your opponent and no one could catch Leo, though many had tried. He made sure to temper his movements as Cole lumbered towards him, he moved fast enough to get out of the way but not fast enough to draw suspicion. Maybe the audience roaring thought Leo was about to meet his untimely demise as Cole swung again and Leo ducked, jabbing two upper cuts into his solar plexus. Again, fast enough to dodge, but not fast enough to draw attention. 

He was in the groove now, sweat pooling on his cupid’s bow as tresses of dark wavy hair clung to his temple. His black t-shirt clung to his figure as Cole panted and Leo could only grin in return. It was enough to have the other man roaring in frustration, swearing at Leonard as he came swinging again. 

“I grew up with three brothers.” It was said dryly, without any desire to even attempt to draw up a reasonable excuse for her experience in running away from a gang. Most of her thoughts were occupied with surveying their surroundings, using the minds of those within the vicinity as surveillance cameras. There was a man following them, and although she wasn’t exactly sure which side he’d been on, his thoughts converged on a single goal: taking her out. And the stranger leaning on her, too, as he had already seen too much.

Selwyn momentarily pulled her attention away from the man as the injured stranger - she dubbed him Simba out of convenience - directed them into the side of a building. She frowned. He was sweating, breathless. And while, yes, he’d been shot, from experience she knew that the adrenaline shouldn’t have worn off yet. Unless it wasn’t a normal bullet.

Faintly, she considered simply leaving him there. He would only slow her down, and if the bullet was laced with magic, he was already as good as dead. It was ruthless, cold, but she’d learned over the years that sentimentality was what got people killed.

“The plan is to keep you alive. Sound good?” Her smile was sweet, though there was a bitterness in her eyes. A bitterness not so much directed towards him as it was towards herself.

She didn’t complain as he continued their walk towards the hotel, feeling his energy drain as he leaned more of his weight on her. “You know, you remind me of a lion cub. A baby animal that thinks it can roar but instead is only able to squeak…” she babbled on, hoping to distract him from the pain as they stepped into the hotel, their pursuant a couple steps behind them.

It was only when they rounded a corner, finally free of passerbys, did she stop, quickly shoving Simba away before she was grabbed from behind by the gang member, who loped an arm around her torso to keep her still and settled a knife against the base of her throat. Big mistake. Because while the cold metal nicked her neck, his hand brushed against her skin. The slightest skin-to-skin contact. But it was enough. She almost felt apologetic as her power transmitted images to his mind, his worst nightmares pulled from the darkest corners of his brain and given life.

The man crumpled to the ground, holding his head between his knees and muttering prayers under his breath. His eyes were unfocused, unable to pull away from the unending horror in his head. Selwyn felt a tiredness in her bones but ignored it, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him towards Simba. “The magic in the bullet,” she bit out, offering him a lifeline. “Neutralize it.”

“Right, that definitely explains it,” an equally dry retort as he breathed heavily beside her. Shit. This was not his day. As he felt his insides beginning to burn, he repeated it again and again. This was not his day. Half-stumbling on a crack, and catching himself on her, Leo swore in Spanish, a string of curses flying between clenched teeth. “Sounds like a – a well thought through plan.” He shouldn’t be talking shit to the person who was helping him but how was she going to keep him alive when he was practically dragging her down. 

Barking a laugh, he broke off into a cough, tasting an acidic metal taste he only ever associated with blood. “And yet, it grows up into the king– king of the jungle so–” he took a deep breath, glancing at their reflection in a giant window-paned display of clothes and saw probably what she wanted them to see. A loving couple, warms around each other as they strolled down the boulevard. He glanced away and at the sidewalk still to cover in front of them, “so...I guess I’ve got...time.” He really fucking hoped so as he felt his vision blur as they stumbled into the hotel lobby, head spinning from the revolving door.