Honey And Wildfire

“They’re taking a day trip. I … didn’t mentally couldn’t handle it right now.” He chuckled, dryly. His posture is slumped and Medvjed seems to be withdrawn ( moreso than usual ) and quieter. He takes the tupperware from her and steps to the side. Once she’s inside, he closes the door. He moves into the kitchen, setting it on the counter. He’s quiet. He moves, sitting down on the couch, “I…I feel responsible.” He confides in his friend, probably his closest friend outside of his partner. Beauty had a gentleness he admired, and a good heart to boot. 

He isn’t responsible, but he could have had a better final interaction. A better chance at amends. He feels nauseaous and shaky. He closes his eyes, taking a breath, gesturing for her to sit beside him on the couch. Baby’s toys are scattered throughout the small apartment, giving it a lived in, homely feel. 

Medev wants nothing more than to redo the night a few nights prior. “I messed up, Beauty.” He whispered, hiding his head in his hands.

“Well I hope they have a nice time.” There’s a soft smile offered his way as she started with the pleasantries in the hope that it might take off some of the edge that he was clearly feeling. She was there because she thought that the news of her murder might have had a ripple effect for him but it was quickly becoming clear that there was something else going on. His silence spoke volumes and Beauty knew it was something more than just the death of someone he had a checkered history with. 

She had always loved the way that their home felt so lived in, a cosiness to it that her own apartment no longer possessed. Though none of that was noticed today as she took the seat next to her friend and sat patiently waiting for him to tell her what it was that seemed to be bothering him so much.

SOFT ANGST STARTERS.

‘stay for me.’

‘what’s this between us?’

‘i don’t want your apology.’

‘you know i have feelings for you.’

‘yeah, i remember the drill.’

‘you’ve never hurt me. ever.’

‘then leave her/him/them. at home.’

‘i don’t believe it.’

‘this is breaking my heart.’

‘you met me at a very strange time in my life.’

‘what keeps you up at night?’

‘i wish you were here.’

‘i let you down.’

‘something strange happened here.’

‘you’re not safe here.’

‘i wasn’t ready to say goodbye.’

‘we are not the same, and never will be.’

‘don’t touch me.’

‘is it my fault?’

‘i’m not like them.’

‘i forgot my name again.’

‘i don’t know who i am.’

‘your fear of looking stupid is holding you back.’

‘are you still alive?’

‘i don’t like being told what to do.’

‘am i making you uncomfortable?’

‘nobody cares if you don’t go to the party.’

‘it was supposed to be fun, and you ruined it.’

‘where the hell are my friends?’

He wasn’t always this: bruised body and broken soul. Priceless intricacies had not always been leagues from his reach, and he had not always been stigmatized as destitute ranger. He’d known the solace of wealth, yet had ceased the hours to wield it. And he had his patriarch to credit this –– a man whom prized sense over spoils, whom presented the king sons of war, whom not once bled molten gold but rusted iron. And he desired to be that man. But that man’s neck kissed an axe, his kinsman swayed from rafters, and his orphaned son lost much more than that. So the ashes had billowed and buried, expectorated a heart of rot and ruin –– no longer General or Robert but Robin Hood. Would his father perceive honor in his vengeance, or would he be estranged in death, left before the bolted gates of Elysium ?

He doesn’t belong here. A specter of himself, he drifts between modernized chambers, the entirety of Beauty’s residence imprinted upon a mental cache. Every absconding route, opportune weapon and strategized space a noted, instinctual side effect of past existence. In his peripheral, various trinkets of glinting silver edge shelves like pristine soldiers. ❝ I should steal from you. ❞ Where the archer aims to muse his tone betrays, the words expelled with significant detachment. He’d nearly forwent her benevolent invitation, contemplated pivoting on leather heel if it weren’t for the concerned onslaught he’d have to combat later.                  

It would be a lie to say that she didn’t possess a softness in her heart for those who tried to lock the world out of their lives or those who the world chose to turn its back on. Having witnessed what the power of love can do - take on death and win - Beauty found it hard not to at least try to extend some kindness to those who had perhaps not known it for years. It was always up to the other whether her offer was taken, not one to ever force someone into a corner when all she wanted was for them to come out of it. But she had been unable to resist reaching out to Robin all those years ago and she still counted every dinner invitation he accepted as a kind of small victory in her quiet, personal war against his isolation.

There was no worry conjured with him being in the house, knowing that harm would never be done to her by his hands and even though his words seemed to threaten some of her possessions she had never been all that fond of the material. They were just things, not what actually made somewhere a home. The love that had once done that was elsewhere now and the place hadn’t felt the same since. Instead of dwelling on the emptiness of the place that should only bring happiness and security, the brunette lets a smile tug at her lips before gentle words slip from them. “You know if you ever want anything all you have to do is ask.” Sincerity was what she lived by and there were truly few things that she would be unable to part with. “Dinner is almost ready, let me get you a drink of something?”

     his skin no longer felt like his own, his bones ache, his voice is changing. the first time he was cursed the enchantress made it quick. it was still painful, the sensation of being ripped apart and moulded into a monster. but now the process was slower, like torture and he swears he can hear her laughter at night when he’s halfway down a whiskey bottle. but he noticed one thing- getting hurt made his body feel somewhat like his own and thanks to his curse he was stronger than what should be humanly natural. it was only a matter of time before he found his way into the underground boxing ring.

     the cage cold against his back, the hits hard unforgiving, the blood, the feeling of bones cracking under his punches. so much violence yet- he found peace in it. the pain blooming from every wound made the pain in his pains fade. for a moment it was as if he was in control of his body again. but that did mean walking to the shop afterwards covered in blood and numerous injuries beginning to heal. 

     the sharp wind hitting his skin as he makes his walk home- no his home isn’t the shop, his home is in an apartment all alone thanks to him. there’s a limp to his movement, his lower leg taking quite a hit and he’s sure it’s fractured. bust lip, his eyebrow is split, and his ribs are bruised. it feels good to hurt in a way he can control in a way he can manage. 

     though dark eyes catch sight of someone up ahead and it’s far too late to hide in a nearby store. he sucks in a sharp breath, muscles going rigid, and stops walking. it would give away his limp that he hopes beauty did not see. but there’s still the injuries to his face and the blood soaking his clothes. he doesn’t even wait for his wife to ask about his appearance, his voice sharp and quick. 

     ❝ i’m fine. ❞ 

Perhaps she should have known better than to be out late when there was still a murder unsolved and the culprit on the loose but she couldn’t stand to be in her apartment alone a moment longer. There’d been a vague hope that perhaps some fresh air would clear her head enough for her to get some rest but as she tugs her coat a little tighter around herself, a figure comes into view ahead of her. Thoughts instantly rush to the worst case scenario and she chided herself for being so thoughtless in her decision but as the limping figure drew closer she realised that it was something that caused an ache in her chest far worse than any killer could.

Walking towards her with bloodstained clothes and injuries to match was her husband. Memories flash into her mind of a night she’d kept buried for years, having always chosen to instead to focus on the future that they could have together as opposed to the grief she’d felt watching him die. It was something she supposed that she had never truly dealt with when the pain of it all was almost too much to bear. We would she had wanted to relive one of the worst nights of her life over and over again?

In her battle to push those memories away again she almost misses the words aimed her way but they still manage to pull her back to reality. A little shake of her head is all that’s given as she takes a few steps forward, not wanting to argue with him when everything in her was crying out for some way to help him still. It felt like a miracle that her voice didn’t tremble with the sadness that was clawing at her throat, making it tighter, but somehow out of a need to be a support for him Callista managed to keep it level. “Let’s just get you inside a minute?” She can’t help that it sounds like a question, asking his permission for her to be able to show that level of care they’d been dancing around the edge of since he left.

For a moment she’d overwhelmed with a sense of dread that his new tactic of pushing her out of his life would extend to this as well. “Please, Adam.” There’s an undeniable pleading in her tone, almost begging him to let her back in just this once when she knows she’ll never be able to sleep having left him in this state. One memory of him bruised, bloody and broken had already been enough to last her a life time and she didn’t know how she’d be able to cope with two if she was forced to walk away.

There were very few residents in Fabletown that she ever felt truly hesitant or wary to be around when she did her best to make sure that their past lives didn’t colour her judgement of them. They were all here for fresh starts and deserved to be treated fairly. But there were some that she hadn’t quite got the measure of yet and Scarlet was undoubtedly one of them. She had left having blind faith in everyone she met behind her in the Homelands, knowing first hand what damage placing trust in the wrong person can do. Still, she was always determined to find something worth admiring in someone and hadn’t given up on finding something in the queen just yet.

Her gaze shifted to the book in the brunette’s hand finding it far easier to stick to common territory rather than push them out into the unknown. “Did you enjoy that one?”

If one asked what or who was Alice’s greatest enemy, the Queen of Hearts would never get to the first place. Instead, as she let out a long sigh, kicking small stones as she walked, the Fable realized that boredom was as ruthless as one expected. Her mind began wandering, going directions that were too fast to follow. Too many thoughts, too little time. Her eyes scanned her surroundings, and just as she saw someone —- it didn’t matter who, all she wanted was something to do —-, everything in her mind came to a halt. Taking a couple of longer steps as she reached the person, she half-circled them before she finally spoke. “If you’re busy, you should’ve look the part,” Alice began, pressing her lips together before she continued speaking, “because now I have a question for you.” 

And then, a moment of silence just to add unnecessary dramatics. “What has 13 hearts but no organs?”

All too often these days Beauty found herself getting lost in her own thoughts and paying less attention to the world around her than she should be. It somehow felt easier to let herself get sucked into what ifs or memories rather than face the harsh reality that Fabletown had become since the murder. When someone startles her out of her daze she supposes that she’s lucky that it was a familiar, friendly face instead of someone more dangerous to her. “Not too busy for your questions, Alice.” In truth she was glad of the distraction that their interaction would no doubt bring when the younger woman had such a knack for finding something out of the blue to discuss. It was refreshing and while she had taken to looking out for her, Beauty knew that their conversations were far more than simply checking in on her. “Oh 13 hearts you say?” A soft smile plays on her features immediately indulging her riddle and even humming slightly as she thought. It wasn’t something that came to her right away but soon enough she felt satisfied that she had solved it in at least one way. “Would it by any chance have thirteen spades, clubs and diamonds?”

So in spite of her nervousness to leave the supposed safety of her home, it didn’t take much for Beauty to make the decision to take a trip across town to visit an old friend in a show of support and solidarity. After knocking at the door, Beauty smiled when it was answered“I thought that perhaps you could use some company? I hope it’s not too much of an intrusion.” Raising the Tupperware box in her hands slightly to demonstrate, she hoped to sweeten the deal. “I brought a little something for you all.”

     he knows beauty is spoken for, his flirtation towards the other never goes past anything but words. so upon seeing the bright ray of sunshine walking the streets, knave’s hand slips into hers and pulls her close to playfully dance to the music exiting one of the shops. he knows he’s pushing his luck but when is he not ?? the knave always enjoys the pushing of buttons, being flirtatious, annoying other people. but beauty had taken it upon herself to push him toward the path of good intentions. knave quite frankly finds that path boring. ❝ well if it ain’t my favourite jiminy cricket. care to dance ?? ❞ 

It’s surprise that means at her hand being taken that takes her most off guard, trying to remember the last time that had happened. But after blinking up at the face of whoever had taken hold of her, her expression grows more no nonsense. “Knave, we’ve talked about this.” Any sternness she’d managed to conjure faded easily, unable to feign annoyance with him when the gesture was truly a sweet one. It wasn’t long before she softened -  always inevitable - and with a light sigh at herself, knowing what an easy mark for him she was, Beauty found herself easily agreeing without any disgruntlement in her tone. “But I’m in no rush so I suppose there’s no harm in just the one dance.” An emphasis was put on the ‘one’ knowing that sometimes ground rules needed to be at least laid down, even if no attention would be paid to them. “Just remember to behave yourself and you’ll need to tighten up that frame of yours.” With a little smile to show that she was joking, Beauty let her body relax slightly.

Maera realised that she actually did recognise the woman in front of her, now that she had spoken. She had a bad habit of not looking at faces as much as she should have. For many reasons, but mostly because she had to crick her neck up so far to really stare into a person’s face. “Might have to recruit you then to guide. I’ve found three patrons wandering around hopelessly lost just today.”

Laughter bubbled up easily, tickled with the idea that she could soon be found directing people around. “I can just see it now - right this way ladies and gentlemen.” Placing jokes aside, the brunette continued on with words just as light but more serious. “Truthfully though, if I wasn’t so happily settled at the library this would be my first port of call. You all do such a good job, it would be lovely to be a part of it.”

Even in the calmness of his empty apartment, Wolf’s head was racing with everything that had happened. His hands tightened into a fist, remembering how it felt to have his hands begging to crush Scarlet’s throat, how they hurt when his knuckles hit Hunter’s jaw and how sore they were from the whole he had punched in a random wall on his way home. It hadn’t been a good week though Wolf knew it only went downhill from there. The only thing worse than those two things was to not find Goldilocks in time to help her. Fridge empty, Wolf couldn’t even feel frustrated at the lack of food; if there had been no beer and an empty pack of cigarettes, then it would’ve been a different story. He was about to sit down on his old armchair, beer in hand and a pack of cigarettes ready to open, when he heard a knock on the door. For fuck’s sake, Wolf thought, knowing that on the other side would be standing someone that he didn’t want to deal with. 

As he opened the door, though, he was proved wrong. Whether it was because he had promised Beast to look after all or because Wolf didn’t mind her presence at all, he was glad she was the one to knock on his door. Letting out a sharp breath, Wolf shook his head, before shrugging his shoulders ever so slightly. “It really depends on the desert you have.” He wasn’t planning on eating it, either way. 

Stepping aside, the Sheriff motioned for Beauty to come in, inviting her into his mess of an apartment —- the smallest in the whole complex. “Come in.”

Despite the two of them always getting along well, Beauty still feels a rush of relief that he stood aside to let her into his apartment. She knew all too well that the man had things in his past that could still take hold of him every now and again and she’d never had any intention to try to push herself into his life if she wasn’t wanted there. There was trying to be kind and then there was making a nuisance or imposition of yourself and the brunette had never much liked being either. If someone wanted their space then she was more than happy to give it to them when she knew better than to expect that everyone was as so endlessly welcoming to company as she was. Perhaps it was something of a flaw that she liked being with company far more than without but when you grew up surrounded by people silence was still an unsettling sound.

So it’s no surprise that a grateful smile tugs at her lips as she steps inside, words full of sincerity as she moves past him. “Thank you.” Once inside her smile gets a little bigger, tone growing lighter as she can’t help but tease him lightly. There was so much tension clouding and darkening their world that she couldn’t help but cease any kind of lightness or silver lining that came her way. “You know, that almost sounds as though you think there’s such a thing as a bad dessert.”

She’d been cooking for years now but baking was something that she was still exploring when there were so many new recipes appearing. A little bit of sheepish nervousness crept into her tone, always slightly too critical of herself when it came to sharing what she hoped were her talents. “I tried my hand at Baked Alaska but hopefully there will be no adverse affects from playing guinea pig.”

It wasn’t so much the words that startled them but how she couldn’t quite believe that he would have any reason to ask them of her. Brows furrowed slightly, equal parts confusion and concern as she posed the most logical question she could think of, keen to get to the bottom of wherever his doubt in her faith in him had sprung from. They certainly weren’t words that had even crossed her mind let alone been spoken aloud in any capacity and she was more than a little anxious to nip it in the bud. “Where did you hear that?”

A few steps were taken forward with the concern still etched on her features, she knew that words had to be chosen carefully to ensure that they were as sincere as intended and there was little room for making things too flowery or embellished. She trusted him completely and that was all that needed to be said, firmly enough that he would believe her. “Wolf,” Voice soft but earnest she began to speak as freely and easily as she could. “I can count on one hand the amount of people I trust as much as I do you. There’s almost no one else I would spend an evening with and feel completely secure. There’s never once been any doubt, I promise. I’m not exactly sure why you’ve chosen to look out for me but just know that I’m nothing but thankful that you do.”

80s Meets Beast and Beauty

“my heart still reaches for you, you know. and it aches like a phantom limb, both knowing and not knowing that you are a piece of me that has long since been removed.”