Hand of the Titans

A hand poked out of the warm blankets and blindly tried to get to the phone that kept glowing, ringing, and vibrating at the same time.

Kaelian emerged from the blanket wrap, squinting at the phone two inches away from his face, not bothering to pick up his glasses yet.

4.56

Anyel calling

He swiped to pick up the call and took a moment to realise he’d have to put the phone next to his ear. “Hrrm. Anyel-..?”

“Hey- Dots! Uh, we got a situation.”

It wasn’t hard to decipher the awkward tone, even through the phone, and through Kaelian’s general dizzyness. He sighed and rubbed his face with his free hand. “Do we?”

“Yeah. Y’know Zen was gonna get me n’ Claw home?”

Kaelian sighed deeply, closing his eyes. He felt the bed’s warmth calling him. He did not want to leave that safe haven, could’ve sworn the blanket was tightening its grip on him. Boyfriend can walk home, can’t he?

“Mmyeah.”

“He... Passed out. From drinkin’. I mean, he’s okay, jus’ ain’t drivin’ any soon.”

“If one is supposed to drive, then they’re not supposed to also drink...” Kaelian sighed, reluctantly sliding out ouf the bed.

“Yeah, we didn’ see him drinkin’ an’ then..” Anyel paused, expecting a reply. “Dots? You there?”

“Yeah. Yeah- Okay. Where again?” Kaelian caught the phone again after putting a sweater on, and pressing it between his ear and shoulder as he tried to pull up his jeans.

“Cherry’s. Look, it’s jus’ that we got no other choice, didn’ wanna kick you out of bed.. I’m sorry, Dots.”

“It’s okay, don’t worry.” Kaelian put his glasses on and grabbed his car’s keys. “You two don’t get in any fights and wait for me to get there.”

“We’re responsible, Dots!”

Kaelian snorted with laughter. “Sure you are.”

-

Katoka got out of Kaelian’s car with unsteady, vaguely drunk balance. “Thanks for the rescue, eh.”

Kaelian hinted a smile. “No problem, Katoka. Get some sleep.. And water.”

She had already turned around, though, waving a hand at them with claw-like black nails as she walked off.

Anyel turned to look at Kaelian. “Hey, ‘m sorry.”

“It’s alright, if anyone’s to blame, that’d be Zen.” Kaelian yawned into his hand and tucked a lock of hair behind his ear. “Let’s just go home, now. Okay?”

“Sure, if you can stay awake that long.” Anyel said with a grin, leaning back on the passenger’s seat.

Of all the things Nlaea owned, her motorbike was among her favourites. There were scuffs on the black and red paint, and there were some possibly-not-street-legal modifications curtesy of Nyliri, but it was gorgeous and somehow bulky and streamlined at the same time. Driving the bike, affectionately nicknamed Alyan after her childhood dog, was among her favourite activities. It sounded stereotypical, but driving the bike made her feel free. During spring and summer she could smell the freshly cut grass through her helmet and, on good days, the smell of someone having a barbeque in their back garden.

Today was an excellent day to go for a drive. She’d become vaguely aware of another bike pulling up next to her as she waited for the light to change from red to green. She’d also become vaguely aware that the bike had two people, both of which were waving their hands to try to get her attention.

“-..strider!” shouted the passenger, muffled by their helmet. Nlaea recognised that voice. She recognised the bike, too. Those goddamn kids. She gave them the finger with all the venom she could muster with her helmet completely blacking out her face. Nakhara revved her motorbike. Nlaea could see the shit-eating grin in the small section of her face where the visor was clear. She stared at the pair, then at the road. It was clear.

“Do-.. -..coward!” Amrakk shouted while Nakhara revved the engine again. The road was still clear. Nlaea revved her own engine.

Orange.

Some passer-by’s gave them dirty looks. Nlaea leaned forwards on her bike, Amrakk leaned forwards on her Nakhara and tightened her grip on her hips.

Green.

They both flew past the lights, kicking up dust and rubbish that had been discarded in the road behind them. Adrenaline flooded Nlaea, making her heart pound in her ears and her hands shake. It was a good feeling. She wasn’t sure how fast she was going, but Nakhara and Amrakk were going faster.

Corner. Drop the speed. She overtook them.

Having a passenger made a bike harder to turn, but she suspected all three of them knew that. Nakhara and Amrakk had good synchronism but not enough to match Nlaea’s ability when she was alone. Her knee nearly scraped the ground when she turned.

They picked up speed. Whenever one bike came into view of the other affectionately awful gestures were thrown between the trio and barely heard insults were shouted, drowned out by the growl of the engines.

British roads were not ideal for street racing because, no matter how hard Nlaea tried, she couldn’t speed around a roundabout without crashing. This was something that occurred to Nakhara and Amrakk too, since they stopped next to her on the roadside a few seconds later. Nlaea pulled off her helmet. Nakhara and Amrakk did too, but with much more style.

“Fucker! It’s hard with a passenger!” Nakhara shouted, but she was smiling.

“You challenged me. Don’t sulk because you lost.” Nlaea said, a little breathless from the adrenaline rush. She checked her phone.

1 New Message from Axilya

“I saw you.”

Though Axilya’s aspirations in life had always been turbulent – a combination of a natural restlessness and pushy parents - strangely enough, none of her dreams had ever involved being a free taxi service to and from City Hospital.  

“Both of them?” she asked, scowling at the wall as she held her phone to her ear, picturing the damage in her mind.

“I’m afraid so. Nlaea claims to have spent all her money on alcohol, and lost her phone. Pele lost all her money, and broke her phone. Can you come and collect them?”

She closed her eyes and sighed. Did the receptionist even have to ask? They all knew Axilya and her friends by name. She wondered if she was on speed dial.

“I’ll be twenty minutes.”

--

Nothing the doctors told her surprised her anymore; they could say her friends had found and fought a pack of wild dogs in the woods and her only response would be to roll her eyes. She was completely desensitised to it. Regardless, two in one night was somewhat uncommon.

They didn’t really need to explain what had happened when they let her into the ward. As the nurses did their final check-ups, Axilya filled in the blanks of another night out gone bad: red-purple bruising manifesting around Nlaea’s eye; Pele’s bloody knuckles; gashes and stitches crisscrossing over the two of them, sore and angry looking. When she found out which one of them threw the bottle, she was going to kill them.

Curiously, neither of them seemed angry at the other anymore. Perhaps it had just been the alcohol. It usually was just the alcohol.

Nlaea waved a lazy hand in her direction as she took a seat beside her bed, doing her very best to put all of her exasperation into her expression and realising that there just weren’t enough ways to contort her face to get just how tired of this shit she was across.

“Before you say anything, we already talked it out in the ambulance, and I’m going to pay for the window,” Nlaea said. Her voice was scratchy with whatever she had been downing earlier.

“The window?”

Pele let out a snort of amusement followed by a sharp intake of breath. At least she was suffering for her mistakes.

“Shouldn’ ‘a said dat,” she grumbled out, sounding more tired than she looked, which was something.

“All done!” the nurse said, tightening the last of the bandages around Nlaea’s arm. This one she was familiar with: cheerful and easy-going, Zigtsu was one of the few members of staff in the hospital who could stand the painful task of tending to Pele whenever she turned up on their doorstep. He offered Axilya a broad smile that she could only half return, and only out of practised politeness. “Ya not doin’ too good at keepin’ ‘em outta trouble.”

“I’m trying,” she insisted. The only way she could try harder was to have them under round the clock surveillance, and though she had seriously considered it, she truly worried about what she’d see when they thought she wasn’t paying attention.

“Ah don’ wanna see any of ya for at least three mont’s, ah’kay?” Zigtsu said on the walk down to the carpark. Maybe Axilya could ask for her own spot one day, for ease’s sake. Parking there could be a nightmare.

Pele and Nlaea grunted in unison.

She decided that neither of them were being granted the privilege of sitting in the front seat. If they were going to act like children (angry, drunken children), they were going to be treated like children (sulky, violent children). There was a reason everyone called her the mother of the group.

“You two are the biggest pains in my ass,” she grumbled, to herself more than anything, pulling out onto the road. “And you owe me gas money.”

Before she could really launch into her lecture, she heard her phone buzz in her bag. Glancing at the traffic light she tossed it to the seat beside her; it was her boyfriend, Maverick, and he had probably just saved Nlaea and Pele from the talking-to of a lifetime. She put him on speaker.

“Hello dear,” Maverick said first.

Oh God.

“Hello, Mav,” she responded slowly, narrowing her eyes at the road. ‘Dear’ was usually reserved for mistakes or making other people (Nlaea) roll their (her) eyes. He did not know that Nlaea was in the car.

“Are you busy? I could use a lift.”

“Funny you should say that,” she said, glancing at her friends in the mirror. “Where are you?”

She could hear the way he cringed, half sheepish smile, half guilt ridden grimace. “City Hospital?”

The horn sounded out as her forehead met her steering wheel.

The sun beat down on the three women standing on the car park outside the shitty block of flats that the first woman lived in. She wore sandals, short jorts and a faded t-shirt that barely read the words "It's Britney bitch." Amrakk wiped her forehead of the sweat that was gathering "fuck me, it's way too warm."

A second woman, wearing a much more respectable outfit, black tank top and jeans, crossed her arms. "What does Nakhara want, dragging us out here?" She leaned back against her motorcycle, cracking her knuckles. "Maybe it was to see those sweet, sweet abs?" The first woman nodded appreciatively at the aforementioned washboard anatomy. "I know I'm glad to see them."

"Keep it in your pants, and away from Nlaea's muscles, Amrakk." this one from the third woman, wearing a long, graceful Maxi dress, with long red locks of hair falling down across it. "It's your girlfriend who got us down here, you live with her, don't you know what it is? Did you adopt a kid? I swea-" She's cut short by a snort of laughter coming from Amrakk, who immediately creases over at the hilarity of her and Nakhara adopting a child. "A KID?! Could you imagine me and Nak with a kid? Oh my god, that poor child."

Axilya's scowling, and Amrakk's laughing are interrupted by a deep, loud rumble. Nlaea looks down at her motorcycle in shock, but relaxes when she realises it hasn't magically started out of nowhere. A figure in full black leathers appears around the corner, atop a motorbike, they ride towards the trio, stopping not far from them. The black motorcycle helmet is covered in tribal patterns, framing leaping tigers, Chinese dragons, ox's and tall cranes, the figure flips their visor up to show  a pair of smiling, excited eyes. "I got a bike! I was bored of borrowing Nlaea's, so I got one for us, Am!" Amrakk's eyes quickly grow to match Nakhara's excitement, running towards her and looking down at the bike. "What?! This is so cool!!"

There was a sudden movement two inches away from his face, then the feeling of paper on his nose.

Then his lips.

Then his eyes.

“Hrrrm.”

“Morning, Legs.”

Kaelian grabbed the papers sprayed on his face and threw them on the floor, without really paying attention to those. “Christ, Rolir. Been here for long?”

“Not really, just came back from printing a couple of things I found on the internet.”

Rolir had taken the habit of dropping by Kaelian’s flat every morning or afternoon before his shift at the florists’ shop, generally waking him up in both cases.

“Yeah? What things?” Kaelian slid down the couch. He realised he was stepping over the papers and leant over to finally look at them.

He froze in horror, feeling his blood abandon his face quite in a hurry.

“Oh, y’know.” Rolir poured himself a glass of water. “I was on Tumblr, right? And you know I follow all kinds of people because why the hell not. Thing is, there’s this girl - a very sweet one at that, she likes the pictures of my garden - that is really into that... What’s it called. Aesthetic stuff.”

Kaelian didn’t dare turning around.

“So she reblogged this one for some character of hers. And there it is! A picture of this really cute guy in a brown tuxedo, red hair all around, that looked just like you! The world is so small, isn’t it?”

Rolir reached out to Kael from the back of the couch, putting a hand over his shoulder and pulling him back a little. “And then I googled your name. Not as many pictures as I expected, but still a lot. Of any sort. With fancy clothes, and even make up sometimes, and body painting, didn’t see anything I hadn’t already seen, mind, but...”

Kaelian turned to look at Rolir, eyes narrow and bright red cheeks.

“Kael. That’s hot.”

Nlaea woke up with the sun. She didn’t usually wake up so early, but she still hadn’t bought a new alarm clock after the last one was dismantled for Nyliri’s constructions and her curtains weren’t drawn all the way closed. The result was a beam of morning sunlight shining directly on her eyelids and Nlaea waking up at a time she described as ‘the asscrack of dawn’. Next to her she could hear Nyliri’s soft breathing. If Nyliri wasn’t facing Nlaea she’d be awake too and Nlaea would have been able to will herself out of bed. Instead, she buried her face in Nyliri’s hair and squeezed her eyes shut, hoping to let sleep take her again.

It didn’t.

Specifically, Nlaea realised, it didn’t because she could hear something in her living room. This didn’t alarm her as much as it should - she’d made the awful mistake of telling Nakhara and Amrakk where her spare key was hidden a few days prior. She peeled herself out of her bed, grabbed her phone, and left her bedroom as quietly as she could, an effort that she dropped as soon as the door closed behind her as if she didn’t know that sound could travel through solid surfaces.

Those goddamn kids were on her sofa. In all honestly, Nakhara and Amrakk weren’t that much younger than Nlaea herself, but she struggled to think of them as anything other than ‘those kids’. She eyed the pair. That was the other strange thing. Even though she knew each one of them separately before they’d met each other she had begun to think of them as the same person. One entity with two bodies. They’d intertwined their limbs into an impossible pretzel of bare skin and tattoos to keep warm, or possibly just because that’s how they slept. Nlaea gave the back of the sofa a firm kick, sending Amrakk tumbling off and almost dragging Nakhara with her. They both looked up at her blearily.

“When I told you where the key was,” Nlaea started, leaning over the back of the sofa to make sure the pair could see her stern expression, “I didn’t mean you could crash here when your house was too far away.” Nakhara rolled onto her stomach and whined. Amrakk groaned from her new bed on the floor.

“Shhh…”

Nlaea wasn’t sure which one of them had shushed her, and since they’d both closed their eyes again neither of them saw her sudden change in expression. She walked around the sofa and ripped open the curtains.

“Say hello to the fucking sun, assholes. Get out.” Nlaea turned and folded her arms. There was a chorus of pained moans.

“Mmh.. time is it?” That was Nakhara, she was sure, but it was hard to tell when she was talking into a pillow and Amrakk was talking into the arm cradling her head.

“Time you got out of my house.” Nlaea responded tersely. After a moment of silence she turned her phone screen on and peered at the clock on the lock screen. “It’s 6:43.” Amrakk sat up first, stretching a toned arm over her head and yawning louder than she needed to. She gave Nakhara’s bare leg a gentle tug. Nakhara kicked out weakly and then sat up too, rubbing her eyes and creasing her mouth in that way that meant it was that special kind of cottony dry you got from a long night of drinking. They were making a glacial attempt at getting dressed.

“Y’should come with us some time, Lightstrider.” Amrakk said, giving Nlaea a sloppy grin and reaching for her shorts.

“Nnno, we should go party with her.” Nakhara snickered. The pity Nlaea had started to feel at their sorry, hungover states quickly evaporated.

“Maybe when you can handle your cocktails.” Nlaea paused to yawn, then continued. “I’m going for a ride. If you think you can both get on the back of my bike I’ll drop you off somewhere.” She eyed them expectantly.

Amrakk tapped her head. “No helmets.”

Amrakk stumbles, grabs the sink for stability. She rips the tourniquet from her arm with a sigh. How the fuck did she end up here? No, really, she doesn't remember. She does remember being a fair bit of booze, and way too much dope down though, which probably wasn't a good sign. Standing up was pretty damn hard, she thinks, as she slides down onto the tile floor, back to the wall. Music pulses through the room, vibrating in her pleasantly warm body. Dying wasn't that bad, if that's what was happening. She thought it probably was.

"Hey, yo, you alright?" Amrakk looks up, her head rolling on her neck slightly. Standing over her is a girl, in her current state she can only pick out certain fixtures; a long braid, leather jacket, sweet arm muscles. "What did you take, mate? You don't look so good. Grey isn't a good skin color". A nonsensical "pfft" noise is all Amrakk can make, as if it didn't really matter what she took. Regardless, she gestures to the needle next to her with one, limp wrist. "Fuck" the word is spoken by the figure standing over her, she shrugs, not that bothered by the apparent lack of hope for her life being saved.