Little brother. The words echoed in Laurel’s mind like a warm, soothing blanket. It was the first time that Devin had called him that. He’d called Laurel a multitude of other things before, from joking insults to various repetitions of his name, but never had he ever called him “little brother.” It made Laurel feel as though things between them were getting better and that, perhaps, Devin had finally warmed up to him. The year prior, Devin had been so detached and almost completely unwilling to spend quality time with Laurel. Of course that was never outwardly expressed, but Laurel knew the difference between someone actually being too busy and just not wanting to acknowledge him. He’d honestly doubted that Devin would ever like him, but now Devin had trusted him enough to share something so emotional with him. He’d opened up. The idea that this could be the start of a brotherly bond made Laurel feel like he could do anything.
Except, well, finish this horrible book.
In hindsight, the way that Devin had sounded when he handed the book over should have been the first sign of what Laurel would be getting into. The snicker, the subtle smirk, and the pat on the head all should have been more than enough of a warning. However, being the naive bundle of joy that he was, Laurel had taken the book as a gift and settled right down to read it the second he was under the covers.
The first few chapters were fine and pretty much things he already knew, but the further he went into the book, the more he wished he hadn’t taken the book at all.
Eventually he reached a point where he’d gone back and forth over the same three pages like he’d seen a ghost and slapped the book closed when the information didn’t get any easier to take. This was clearly not a book he could stomach, a bit of an odd thing to admit seeing as he didn’t even have the aforementioned organ yet, and it would sit buried under several other books until he either forgot all about it or, God forbid, needed it to answer a question later in life. He was sure that the latter scenario would never happen, unless he’d lost his mind, and hurried to dig through his drawer for a distraction. He tossed several objects aside and, to a mix of relief and anxiety, found The Laurel Tree stuck between his journal and the side of the drawer.
“... I did promise dad that I’d read it.” He muttered, recalling the first time he’d tried. He hadn’t picked it up since then and, even now, the book felt strange. Just holding it in his hand alone gave him a strange feeling, like he was being watched. He took a breath and thumbed the page open.
“Todd, Tierney, and Teagan McKinley were brothers who lived in a small, hillside cabin surrounded by forest.” He read, the same as before. “They were forbidden from entering the forests by their father, who blamed them for their mother’s death.”
He paused, his finger glossing over the next few sentences with his brows raised. The part mentioning Oliver he’d seen last year was gone just as he’d hoped. It seemed as though he’d truly imagined them. Nodding to himself, he kept reading.
“One day, after another argument with their father, the boys journeyed the farthest they'd ever gone into the woods and stumbled upon a large, golden laurel tree. Seeing as the leaves were made of pure gold, the trio each picked a leaf and ran for home, in hopes the treasure would satiate their father's anger. However, no matter which way they turned from that point forward, they found themselves right back at the tree.”
At this point, Laurel couldn’t help but glance over his shoulder. He could feel something. His left arm had a noticeable difference in pressure. He resolved to ignore it and keep reading.
"We've just been going 'round in circles!" Laurel said, reading Tierney’s line. "And it's getting nippy! I wish I'd brought my winter coat!"
“Suddenly, a flash of golden light enveloped Tierney-”
And with that, a bright golden light startled Laurel’s attention away from the page. It had happened so fast that Laurel, his heart going a mile a minute, was certain that he’d imagined it. He pulled himself to the edge of his bed and over to the window.
Nothing, no car lights, no lamps, not even a jack-o-lantern.
“Get a grip, Laurel.” He said, rubbing a hand over his hair. “You’re just seeing things because you’re tired. Let’s go to bed.”
He turned away from the window, the book now clasped shut in his hands, and paused again as he passed his mirror. The pressure had traveled over his back and now sat square in between his shoulder blades. If he had to describe the feeling, it honestly felt like a hand. He sucked in a breath and tried to cross the room.
“I know you can feel me.”
The voice sent Laurel’s gaze straight to the mirror. A hooded figure, clad in white and gold robing, stood behind him in the reflection with their hand on his back. He shook.
“Don’t be afraid. I won't hurt you.”
The figure moved, flowing across the mirror like light across a wall, and took Laurel’s right hand. Though he could feel their movement and touch, Laurel was unable to tear his eyes away to see if it were true.
“I hope you’ll come back soon. I’m not enjoying all this poking and prodding. I’d much rather be with you.”
The figure let go of Laurel’s hand, leaving a glowing, golden light in his palm, and moved toward the window.
“Please take care of these until we meet again.”
Laurel’s gaze followed them as they seemed to disappear through the window and immediately felt himself being tugged violently to the opposite side. He tried to fight it and grab onto the wall, only to find himself slamming against his bed. He struggled, even as the entire world seemed to be tilting upwards against him, and just when he seemed to be winning the fight-
His body fell right out of bed.
“W-what the f-... ********> He huffed, his voice cutting off after each panting breath. He pushed himself up and rubbed where he’d fallen, before noticing that it was, clearly, morning. Had all of that been a dream?
He hovered up from the floor and looked around, utterly dumbfounded by the clutter strewn all around his room. Even his blankets, all eight of them, were thrown a good few feet from where they should have been on his bed. He remembered tossing a few of his things out of his drawer, but this was insane. He bent forward and began gathering things.
“Can’t find something?”
Everything Laurel had gathered went flying across the room as he jumped in surprise and swung to look at the door. Devin stood there, a smirk drawn across his face, which Laurel met with a very, very, tired expression.
“Yeah, my sense of humor.” He replied, rolling his eyes. “But, hey, could you maybe knock? I had another nightmare and I might have done all this in my sleep. Not really in the mood to be startled right now.”
“Oof, my bad.” Devin said, casually moving into the room. He bent and scooped up a few things as he spoke. “You in the mood to go to town for a bit, though? Dad wants us to pick up some more Halloween candy and a book order at Arthur’s. I could go on my own if you’re not up for it.”
“Uh, yeah, sure.” Laurel said, glancing cautiously over to the mirror. “Honestly, though, I can’t wait for Halloween to be over. It’s literally the worst holiday. I can’t eat any of the candy and everything gives me horrible anxiety. Who even likes this holiday just for the scares anyway?”
“A lot of people?” Devin said, shrugging as he placed a few things on Laurel’s bed. “It’s not for everyone, man, and I can see why you wouldn’t like it. You’re scared of everything.”
“You’re exaggerating.” Laurel said, making a face. “It’s impossible to be scared of everything.”
“Then prove it.” Devin said, folding his arms. “There’s this haunted house they put up every year in town that’s supposed to be the scariest one on Gaia and I dare you to go in alone. If you can last through the entire thing without screaming like a baby, I’ll buy you anything you want.”
“And what if I can’t?”
“No reward, but you’ll have to live with the shame of being a big baby for the rest of your life.”
“Okay, you’ve got a deal.”
“Awesome. For now, just meet me downstairs when you’re ready to go.”
“Got it.”
Once Devin left the room, Laurel quickly found himself wondering just what the ******** he’d agreed to do. A haunted house, the scariest haunted house in all of Gaia, and he’d be going in all alone to prove that he wasn’t scared of anything at all. He knew he was scared, he could barely handle being left alone in the dark than an actual haunted house. He wanted to call out to Devin and immediately call off the bet, but the idea of being ridiculed over it for the rest of his life wasn’t tempting either. He growled at himself, grabbed the pile of blankets, and tossed them on his bed. If something glittery on the floor hadn’t caught his attention, he might have thrown the rest of his things on top of them, too.
Instead he lingered over the floor, his eyes wide in shock, and cautiously lowered himself down. There, clear as day, lay three golden leaves. He rubbed his eyes, blinked, and scooped them up.
There was no possible way that this could be real. The Laurel Tree was just a story. Still, though, there was no other way to explain the appearance of these leaves. He’d never seen them before. … He hurried to gather the rest of the items strewn across his room and opened his drawer. The Laurel Tree sat there face up at the bottom of the empty drawer. He’d sworn that the book had been in his hand only moments ago. However, he didn’t want to entertain these oddities any more than he’d already had.
He tossed the leaves on top of the book, along with all of the items he’d gathered, and slammed the drawer closed.
(October 2018 )
Posted: Thu Mar 28, 2019 11:05 am
Arthur’s Fables was a cozy paradise away from everything Laurel hated. Cold, dreary weather, terrible sleep, weird ethereal beings that kept popping up in his life, all of these things could be avoided, in thought at least, by the smell of books and a worn reading chair. He thanked whoever invented the concept of a bookstore, especially one with a fireplace like this, and allowed himself to warm up a bit before making his way to the front desk.
“Hey Arthur, I’m here to pick up an order for my father!” He called, tapping the desk idly. He waited for the old man to appear for a moment before leaning out over the counter. “Arthur?”
He couldn’t quite tell if the back room was dark or not from his position, but the continued silence bothered him. Arthur was, as Oliver put it, “getting on in age.” Maybe something was wrong? He leaned further forward and squinted at the door.
“Can I help you?”
“Huh?” Laurel squeaked, turning a full one-eighty. A young woman, clad in a lovely white turtleneck dress, stood in front of him with a stack of books in her arms. He gave her a once over and shrugged. “Uh… I guess so? I’m looking for Arthur, the owner of this store. Have you seen him?”
“No.” She said, lifting her gaze to the back room door and shaking her head. “He’s out at the moment, I could leave a message for him? Who are you with?”
“No one, I’m here to pick up an order.” Laurel replied, referencing behind the counter. “My father said it’s all paid for, but he can’t get it himself.”
“Oh, of course.” She said, nodding and hurrying behind the counter. “Your father’s name?”
“Oliver Kipling.”
“Oliver Kipling, Oliver Kipling...“
Laurel watched her duck behind the counter and rummage around before moving and doing the same on the sides of the desk. It seemed odd that an order that had just come in yesterday could be so difficult to find, but the store was pretty popular and orders did stack up. He looked idly around the room, patted his sides, and jumped when the woman slapped a trio of books on the counter.
“There we are! Underneath a pile of magazines.” She said, smiling up to Laurel. “Would you like a bag to carry these or are you alright on your own?”
“Nah, I’ve got it, thanks!” Laurel said, hoisting the books into his arms. “You know, not to sound rude, but when did you start working here? My dad didn’t mention anyone new.”
“Me? Well, I…” The woman said, looking up to the ceiling in thought. “... Have known Arthur since I was a young girl and saw that he could use an extra hand around the shop! I’ve only started this week.”
“Oh cool!” Laurel said, grinning broadly. “I’ve kind of been thinking about that, too. I mean, this place is really awesome and I’m fine lifting heavy things. Do you think he’d be open to more helpers?”
“Perhaps.” She said. “I’ll bring it up with him when he gets back. What’s your name?”
“Laurel, and yours?”
“Elizabeth.”
“Thanks for your help, Elizabeth!” Laurel said, turning toward the door. “I’m sure I’ll see you again, we’re regulars here, but it was very nice to meet you!”
“Lovely to meet you too, Laurel.” Elizabeth said. “Take care now!”
Though he would have rather stayed in the warmth for as long as he could, Laurel had agreed to meet Devin by the convenience store as soon as he’d gotten the books. He glided down the sidewalk, the books tucked firmly under his arm, and spotted Devin standing outside the store with several full plastic bags beside him. What had been a Halloween candy run had obviously exploded into a full on grocery or junk food run. Laurel laughed at the thought.
“Did dad ask you to pick up more stuff?” He asked, nudging himself beside Devin.
“Hm? Oh, no.” Devin muttered, looking up from his phone. “I saw we needed milk and I wanted snacks. I had enough money. Did you get the books?”
“Yeah, they’re right here.” Laurel replied, turning to show them. “Wanna head back? It’s really cold.”
“Mmhm… You wanna say goodbye to your little friend there before we go though?”
“What friend?”
“On your shoulder.”
Laurel turned his head right, then left, and locked eyes with a familiar black feathered bird. It was a puzzle as to how Titus had perched himself there without him noticing, or when he’d arrived at all, but Laurel wasn’t having it. He waved his hand at Titus.
“Go on home.” He said, staring Titus down. He wiggled his shoulder. “Go on!”
But the bird persisted and dug his talons in, not hard enough to hurt but hard enough to be felt through Laurel’s coat. It seemed likely that he wouldn’t be budging and Laurel, thoroughly unwilling to put in the effort, shook his head in defeat.
“Maybe he’ll go away if I ignore him.” He said, giving Titus one last irritated look. "I don't know what else to do."
“Thought you'd be more concerned about this.” Devin said, brows raised in amusement. "Have you met this bird before?"
“Oh, yeeeeah, we’re buddies.” Laurel said, voice dripping with sarcasm. “He’s a phone stealing brat. I could tell you the story on the way home.”
“Please do. I’d love to hear it.” Devin laughed.
(October 2018 )
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Posted: Wed May 01, 2019 7:37 am
The thunder and rain came down hard around midnight on October 31st and a toppled power line meant that the Kipling household was officially left without power. Whatever hopes of leaving the house were dashed as well when the rain refused to let up past five o’clock that evening and several cracks of thunder shook the house. There would be no trick or treating this year and there would be no haunted house for Devin and Laurel.
Though he wouldn’t admit it, Laurel was relieved. Devin had really amped up how terrifying the haunted house would be once he got inside. Zombies without faces, skeletons that dragged you underground, even doctors who wanted to strap you onto a table and inject you with poison! The more things he recalled that Devin added to the list of horrors, the more Laurel was thankful that the storm had prevented him from seeing them. Even if the storm had knocked out all the power and they had to use candles, it was better than the haunted house.
He’d been watching the storm out the living room window periodically while Devin lounged around on the couch behind him. He’d dragged up one of his old handheld game systems from the attic to play one of the older versions of Pokemon and didn’t have another for Laurel to play. With his 3DS uncharged upstairs, Laurel was left without much else to occupy himself. Coupling that with the storm and the ever increasing darkness, boredom and discomfort were hard to ignore. He stuffed his hands in his pockets, humming idly, and flopped onto the couch next to Devin.
“I’m so boooored.” He whined, adjusting his position so he could peer over Devin’s shoulder. “Do you wanna play cards or something? I’m like… Losing my mind here.”
“Good point. Go get one from the kitchen. I think the games are in the basement.”
“T-the basement?”
“Yeah, the b-b-b-basement!” Devin mocked, smirking. “Come on, I thought you wanted to prove how brave you are.”
“I do!” Laurel chirped, furrowing his brow. “I’ll make you wipe that smirk off your face!”
“You know what?” Devin said, tenting his fingers. “Just for that, let’s make this a dare. If you can spend five minutes in the basement without a flashlight or a candle, I’ll get you that prize I promised.”
“Deal!”
Laurel had never rushed so fast to get somewhere in his life. The need to prove Devin wrong was so strong that nothing else mattered for those seconds of movement. No more boredom, no more games, just pure confidence and adrenaline. For five, maybe ten seconds, Laurel truly felt as though he were unbreakable.
Then, the basement door shut behind him and he was left in total, complete, and utter darkness. All feelings of power and might were drowned by anxiety and fear. His heart pounded into his ears as though screaming at him for making such a stupid decision. However, the promise of a reward and the gratification of seeing Devin admit that he was wrong gave him enough of a buff not to race back up the stairs again. Instead, he tried to figure out exactly where he was.
That was far easier said than done. Everything was pitch black. The ceiling, the floor, the walls, everything. He held his hands out, smacking them into several things as he moved, and eventually met with something at the far end of the basement. He shook it gently, analyzed the clanging sound it made, and realized that he’d found the cabinet where Oliver kept the expensive glass. He quickly moved on, bonking straight into what felt like another wooden cabinet, and opted to stay in the center of the room.
“This… Isn’t so bad, I guess.” He muttered, his chest meeting the edge of something soft. He ran his hands around it and smiled. An old armchair. By the way the seat was facing, he could now tell that he was in the entertainment area which Oliver used for parties. The last time it had been used was his first birthday. Everyone had come down to play games in the wide open space. This also meant that the board games had to be close by. If he could find them and complete this dare, Devin was bound to be proud of him.
He hovered across from the armchair and over to where he thought the game cabinet would be. It was a large wooden structure that held several things, so it couldn’t be that hard to find. He moved slowly, his hands outstretched, and gasped as the end of his ribbon got caught onto something.
“W-what was that?” He said, taking a few deep breaths. He’d never had that happen before. It honestly felt like something had grabbed him… He swallowed hard and turned around.
Shuffle shuffle.
“Who’s there?” He shouted, clasping his hands over his mouth. He slinked back toward the wall and listened.
Slowly and surely, a shuffling sound could be heard from somewhere on the opposite side of the basement. It stopped and started, sometimes louder or softer, but there was no doubt in Laurel’s mind that it was getting closer. He nudged himself off the wall and started backing away. He knew the stairs had to be along this wall, if he could only find them. He had no idea how long he’d been down here, but it had to be more than five minutes, and even if it hadn’t-
SHUFFLE SHUFFLE SHUFFLE
He didn’t care.
“Where are the stairs, where are the stairs?!” He screamed, smacking into several objects as he fled. The shuffling sound followed him every which way, only sending him further into panic and higher off the ground. He’d launched himself in several directions, none of which lead to the stairs, and hid behind what he hoped wasn’t obvious. The shuffling sound drew closer and closer and abruptly stopped somewhere to his left side. He moved, guiding himself around the object he was hiding behind, and tried to decide if he should take off again.
Then, a familiar sound caught his attention. It was subtle at first, but unmistakable. A purr.
“Barrel, is that you?” He asked, leaning down to the ground. Sure enough, his call was greeted by a “murrp” of delight and the shuffling sound bounded over to him. He reached out for Barrel and waited for him to press his face into his hand before picking him up.
“You little brat, you scared me!” He laughed, running his hand along Barrel’s back until he found something attached to Barrel’s tail. Further inspection revealed that it was thin and made an odd sound, much like the shuffling sound from before. He crinkled it in his hand and, with a wave of relief and embarrassment, realized that he’d been running from the sound of a plastic bag being dragged around by his cat. If anyone with a camera had been here, the tape would have easily won Gaia’s Funniest Home Videos.
Still, there was the matter of figuring out where the stairs were. He considered trying to let Barrel lead him out, but the cat seemed content on staying in his arms now that they’d found each other. He carried Barrel away from his hiding spot and tried to use one hand to feel his way around. However, it didn’t take him long to notice a bit of light in his peripheral vision, and they were soon back up on the first floor.
“The power’s back?” He said, moving into the hallway. Everything seemed to be working again. He set Barrel down, after removing the plastic bag, and headed into the living room. There, Devin was perched watching a Halloween special on TV.
“Dude, when did the power come back?” He asked.
“Oh shi-” Devin gasped, startled. “Uh… About thirty minutes ago?”
“... Did you forget I was down in the basement?”
“Yeah… Kinda.”
“You’re an a**, Devin.”
“Whoa, chill out, Laur. It’s not like I abandoned you outside or something.”
“Still, could you maybe try to care?”
“Sorry that I got distracted…” Devin snorted. “But you still won the dare? With an extra twenty five minutes?”
“So?”
“That’s six times what I dared you to do! I’ll buy you something worth sixty bucks. Sound good?”
“... Yeah." Laurel said, smiling. "Sounds good.”
( October 31st 2018 )
POINTS 1413 words = 7 points 1000 word bonus = 2 points
Total: 9 points
Posted: Thu May 02, 2019 9:07 am
Laurel had experienced many a frustrating thing during his short life. Most were petty little things, like getting caught in the rain or misplacing his scarf, while some were larger, more disruptive things, like watching Devin cry after his father left. He’d learned several self-soothing techniques by watching Oliver or by searching the internet and found that they’d helped him keep calm in times when he felt he’d reached his limit. Removing himself from the situation, deep breathing exercises, closing his eyes and imagining himself somewhere else…
All great tools to use when you weren’t the one deliberately frustrating yourself.
“Three thousand one hundred and twenty nine!?” He groaned, the screen on his 3DS flashing back to the title screen of his Pokemon Ultra Sun copy.
He pressed his face defeatedly into the couch cushions. Ultra Necrozma’s roar was no longer an exciting sound, and each non-shiny Moltres he encountered only made him want to scream. All he wanted was a shiny flame chicken. Just one shiny flame chicken! That wasn’t too much to ask, right? He’d loved it as soon as he’d seen someone hunting it online and dove right into trying to find it when he’d finished the game months ago. Navigating the Ultra Wormhole game had been annoying enough and he’d had to search for it through trial and error, literally the worst kind of search method ever. Other shiny hunters had gotten their shiny Moltres somewhere in just over a thousand soft resets, and a ton even under six hundred soft resets. Though he was aware from research that, in the games made well before he was born, the chances of a finding a shiny anything was about a one in eight thousand one hundred and ninety two chance, the chances were halved in the new games and the shiny charm only made things easier. With all comparisons considered, he felt like his game was either broken or he was one unlucky son of a gun.
The game cycled through it’s title animations three times before he finally raised his gaze again and pressed A, A again, and watched the Ultra Space Wilds location load in. Just one more reset and he’d take a break. A nice, even, three thousand one hundred and thirty. Then he’d feel like he could clap his 3DS closed and put this hunt on hold until he felt like facing it again. He’d have to find something else to do until Oliver and Devin got home, but at least he wouldn’t be dealing with this stupid, no-shiny-granting, bullshit game for a while. He moved his character forward, watched Moltres’ shadow descend upon them, and held his breath.
DING-DONG!
Laurel sent his 3DS flying into the air at the sound of the doorbell and caught it just before it hit the ground. He clutched his chest, flipped it to view the screen, and grimaced. One thousand one hundred and thirty. No shiny today. He sighed.
DING-DONG!
“Coming!” He called, setting the 3DS down.
He crossed the room and paused to take a quick peek out the window. A familiar car was parked outside, one he’d seen drive up many times before; Rose Marie’s blue Honda. Judging by how it was positioned, she wouldn’t be staying for very long. Typical. He opened the door.
“Hey auntie! How’s it-”
His greeting was cut off short as the door was pushed open and Rose Marie, followed by her husband Peter, and Anna Sage barged right on in. He took a moment to gather himself and shake his head before taking a look at them. Rose Marie and Peter were clearly dressed up to go somewhere and Rose Marie was looking around the room. There was no doubt about who she was looking for. He cleared his throat.
“Hey!” He repeated, moving his arms about. “No hello?”
“Ah!” Rose Marie said, spinning around and pressing her hands against Laurel’s cheeks. There were cool from the outside air and very liberally perfumed. “I’m sorry, we didn’t mean to barge in like that, we are in a bit of a bind though.”
Yeah, yeah, sure. Not like Laurel had been standing right there or something. He puffed his cheeks at the squishing and looked toward Peter and Anna Sage. He could somehow feel that they were laughing at this and sighed when she finally let go and moved toward the stairs. A bind, huh? He knew exactly what that meant. She was here to ask for a favor from Oliver and run right out the door. He watched her get to the banister and peer up the stairs before speaking again.
“Dad’s not home right now, if you’re looking for him.” He said, glancing down to Anna Sage. “He said something an hour ago about needing to stay late, too. I think he’s busy grading finals.”
“Really?” Rose Marie groaned, holding her hand to her chin. “And I assume he won’t be back until late?”
“I guess? It sounded like that.”
“But Peter and I were really hoping to go out tonight and we can’t leave Anna Sage home alone.”
“Why not?”
“She’s not old enough yet.”
“I’m like… Two and a half and dad lets me stay home alone.”
“You’re different.”
“Okay, why not ask uncle Sherwood?”
“He’s too far out of our way.”
“Mmm… Then maybe I could watch her?”
The dead silence following that seemingly reasonable question was borderline deafening. However, the reactions in front of him were a completely different story. Anna Sage looked shocked, like merely asking the question had opened an entire new world for her. Rose Marie on the other hand was staring at him like he had twelve heads. Peter, thankfully, had an encouraging smile. Laurel's attention, and hopes for this situation, fell upon him.
“... I don’t see why not.” Peter agreed, after a considerable amount of time. He looked to Rose Marie. “Come on, they’ll be fine, and this is the last date we’ll be having until I get back from my business trip next month. Do you really want to let this reservation go?”
The answer then fell back to Rosie, who wasn’t looking terribly moved. Laurel watched her as she mulled it over, her face scrunching in all sorts of directions, until she finally nodded back to Peter and looked Laurel in the eyes.
“We’ll be back by eleven, the latest.” She said, bending down to give Anna Sage a kiss on the forehead and locking arms with Peter. “No soda, no violent video games or movies, and no leaving this house unless Oliver gets home. Understood?”
“Not a problem.” Laurel replied, holding the door open for them. “Enjoy your date and don’t worry. I’ll let dad know what’s up as soon as you’re gone.”
“Be good for Laurel, Anna!”
Laurel watched as Rose Marie and Peter hopped into the car and waved to them through the window. Once he was sure they were gone, he made his way back into the hall where Anna Sage was busy hanging up her coat.
“Okay, now that they’re gone…” He said, grinning broadly. “First one upstairs gets player one on Mario Kart!”
He’d never seen someone sprint so fast before in his life.
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1205 words 1205 words = 6pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 8pts (Total overall: 8/200pts)
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Posted: Fri May 03, 2019 7:38 am
(May 1st 2019)
After only an hour into Mario Kart, it became apparent to Laurel that Anna Sage, not Devin, was the true ruler of the game. She might not have beaten him up the to attic for the first player controller, but she had beaten him in six straight rounds. She knew all the secrets of every map he chose, when to throw her power-ups for optimal damage, and did it all without ever once falling off of the track. He’d lost count of how many times he’d dropped poor Yoshi into the abyss and, once again, felt like the video game Gods had no interest in helping him. The controller was no help to him, either. Despite tying the strap to his wrist as securely as he could without cutting off his circulation the remote had still been flung in several directions, thankfully landing without breaking.
The final time it flew however, Anna Sage seemed to catch onto Laurel’s difficulty keeping up and suggested they start considering what they could have for dinner. Laurel had already eaten (several pounds from a stack of boxes no one seemed to be touching) and didn’t know if Oliver had anything planned since he’d be out late. The pair went off to dig around in the pantry and eventually found a family sized box of macaroni and cheese stuffed between a stale package of rice and a expired pasta sauce. This wasn’t the first time Laurel had worked with the stove, but it was the first time he’d snuck a taste of something from the package because no one was there to stop him. The artificial cheese powder was pretty foul and the sauce didn’t taste much better once it was done. Yet, Anna Sage had asked for three servings of the nasty yellow-coated substance. Maybe she lacked taste buds?
He left the pot and bowls to soak in the sink after dinner and allowed Anna Sage to pick the next fun thing she wanted to do. This lead to an uproarious game of Apples to Apples, followed by three episodes of My Little Pony, then a spontaneous “fashion show” where they raided the attic for old clothes and pretended they were famous fashion designers talking to an adoring audience. Laurel managed to tug on about six different sweaters at once before he felt more fabric than Raevan and got himself stuck in the neck hole of the last one trying to get free. Anna Sage had gotten such a kick out of it that she was rolling around on the floor, her face nearly purple from laughing so hard.
By the time they’d finished cleaning up the attic, night had fallen and Laurel had completely forgotten to text Oliver about Anna Sage being dropped off. He nudged Anna Sage down to the guest room where she’d left her sleepover supplies and, while she was busy getting into her pajamas, went to his room to grab his phone.
“Hey dad. Sorry to interrupt. Anna got dropped off a while ago. Parents wanted a date night.” He sent.
“Oh boy. Having fun?” Oliver replied, not long after.
“Yeah! She’s awesome at Mario Kart. I made her mac and cheese.”
“Good. Thank you for being so responsible. I’ll call as soon as I leave.”
“No problem. Love you.”
“Love you too.”
Laurel placed his phone back on his bedside table and threw on his favorite paw-print patterned button-down pajama shirt. It had been a gift from Anna and her family last Christmas and came with a matching pair of pants that he’d left in the box to keep nice for when he grew legs. He smiled to himself in the mirror, grabbed a blanket from his bed, and headed out into the hallway.
“You ready Anna?” He called, wrapping the blanket around his shoulders. “I think we can fit some more Mario Kart in before bed!”
The door quickly swung open and a bunny-pajama clad Anna Sage hopped out of the room. Laurel took a moment to gush to himself over how heartwarmingly adorable she looked before she jumped toward him and assumed a challenging pose.
“I bet you an entire ice-cream sundae that I can beat you ten races in a row!” She announced, making a smug little face.
“Kinda unfair, since I can’t eat ice cream.” Laurel snorted.
“I know! You can owe me when you get a stomach, silly!”
“Oh, well in that case…” Laurel said, quickly snatching Anna Sage into his arms and carting her up to the attic. “You’re on, little rabbit!”
---
It didn’t take long for Laurel to realize that he’d made a bet he wouldn’t be able to win. He’d managed to go one race without falling off the map, but nine races later and Anna Sage was hopping all around the room and calling out all the flavors of ice cream and toppings she could think of. Laurel had to remind her that this sundae would likely not be happening for a while and she’d have to write all of the things she wanted down if he was ever to remember. This ended up changing the terms of the bet entirely. Anna Sage would have half of her victory ice cream now with whatever Oliver had in the cabinets on top and then the other half could be whenever Laurel got his stomach. Laurel happily carried Anna Sage back down the stairs and set her up on the couch while he assembled her bowl of ice cream.
“You probably shouldn’t have chocolate before bed, right?” He asked, hand idling over the chocolate sauce in the fridge. “Dad says that keeps you up at night.”
“So what?” Anna said. “I’ll be going home soon.”
“That’s not what I meant, but alright.”
One slathering of chocolate sauce later and the bowl was handed off to Anna’s eager hands. It was pretty much a hodgepodge of whatever he’d called out while digging in the pantry. Neapolitan base, chopped banana, whipped cream, raspberry jam, graham crackers, two marshmallows, rainbow sprinkles, and chocolate sauce. The temptation to aim that can of whipped cream directly into his mouth had been extremely difficult to contain. It looked so soft and delicious… God it was so hard not having a stomach!
“Jeez, ten o’clock already?” He muttered. Anna’s parents would be due back in an hour, Oliver would be home any second, and he still had dishes to clean. He rolled up his sleeves and got to work.
Not long after he started, however, an eerie feeling crept up his back. He’d never felt anything like it before, but it was like all the little hairs on the back of his neck were standing up at once. He knew he wasn’t cold and the heat was on, but something just didn’t feel right. He pulled the blanket tighter around his chest and turned his head to check on Anna Sage. She looked fine, enjoying the last bits of melted ice cream from the bottom of the bowl, but he could see a set of bright blue and red lights flashing just outside the window. He set the dish and sponge down and drifted toward the window. He couldn’t see the source of the lights from his position, but could see the form of a person heading up to the porch. They were in a dark colored outfit with a silver badge pinned by their right side. He recognized it from a news report a the day before; They were a police officer and the lights outside were likely from their cop car.
He didn’t have long to think about what they were doing here when they knocked. He held his breath for a moment, looked to Anna Sage, and went to open the door.
“C-can I help you, officer?” He asked.
“Are you…” The officer began, giving Laurel a surprised once over. Laurel was used to that kind of reaction. Not everyone knew what a Raevan was. “... Oliver Kipling?”
“No sir, I’m his son.” Laurel replied.
“I see. Is your father at home?”
“Not at the moment. He said he’d text me once he got out of work. Is something wrong?”
“Yes I-” The officer said, pausing to turn down his radio. “I’m afraid there’s been an accident involving his sister and her husband. He was the only one on her emergency contact list and we haven’t been able to reach him.”
“An accident?” Laurel said, his face twisting in several directions. He took a breath and looked back to Anna Sage again. She was still sitting on the couch but had moved to face the front door and was looking very confused. Laurel pursed his lips and faced the officer again.
“I’ve got their daughter here with me.” He continued, motioning toward the living room. “I’m not sure when my dad will be back. What should I do?”
The officer had moved away from the door during the time it took Laurel to talk and seemed to be talking into his radio. Laurel’s heart started to thump, the sound obscuring his ability to hear, until the officer returned to the porch.
“I've just received word that your father’s been notified and he's already at the hospital.” He said, grabbing his radio and motioning to the cop car. “Grab yourself and your cousin a coat and I’ll take you there to meet him.”
Laurel watched the officer walk back onto the lawn and turned, slowly, toward the coat rack. He trembled as he layered the coats over his arm and gasped when Anna Sage suddenly appeared beside him.
“Laurel…?” She said, peering up to him with a furrowed brow. Laurel was sure those big eyes would haunt him forever. “What’s going on?”
“I-uh… I’m not sure.” He replied, his ears pinning back. “But we’ve got to go with that officer, okay? Come on.”
He helped Anna Sage get her coat on as best he could and carried her outside. The officer ushered them into the back of the car, flipped the sirens on, and sped away.
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1680 words 1680 words = 8pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 10pts (Total overall: 18/200pts)
Posted: Sat May 04, 2019 8:34 am
(May 1st 2019)
The officer hadn’t offered any kind of comfort during the ride to the hospital. He was virtually silent, only making sound when asked a question or if someone talked over the radio. Laurel had tried asking questions as they raced past cars, trucks, and through intersections along the highway, but felt as though the officer was either ignoring him or didn’t know how to answer. It could have easily been the radio or the sirens drowning out his voice, but the look in the officer’s eyes hinted otherwise. They looked somber and troubled. Definitely not a good sign.
Laurel decided to shift his focus onto Anna Sage as they neared their destination. She had gone quiet as well, but more so out of fear than focus. She held her hands on her lap and her back pressed firmly against the seat of the car, clearly due to how fast they were moving. Laurel placed a hand on her shoulder and tried to offer a reassuring smile, only to be jostled as the car came to a sudden stop. He pushed himself up from the back of the passenger seat and looked outside to see the blaring red EMERGENCY sign on the building outside. They’d arrived.
He scooped Anna Sage up again as the officer lead them through a door and down a brightly lit hallway. Doctors, nurses, and all sorts of people were rushing to and fro, their footsteps just as audible as the beeping of machines, gurneys being pushed, and the sounds of people coughing, groaning, and crying for help coming from what seemed to be everywhere. Laurel’s ears pinned firmly against his head as they headed down the hall to the front desk and a doctor in full gear brushed passed his arm, causing him to duck and press Anna Sage to his shoulder. Every inch of his body felt like it needed to protect itself and the little bunny pajama clad girl he was holding. The noises, the people, all the flashing lights… It was an absolute assault on his senses.
The officer, after having a short conversation with a nurse, lead them back the way they came and into a crowded waiting room. Though the noises of the emergency room down the hall had been partly deafened by the door, the feeling in this room wasn’t much better. Everyone looked sick or hurt in some way. He noticed a boy who looked as white as snow in the corner and a man in a wheelchair holding his head. Nearby, a woman sat crying and holding her stomach in pain. Why wasn’t anyone looking after these people? Were there patients that had it worse than this? He swallowed hard at the thought and pinned his eyes straight ahead.
Thankfully, there wasn’t much further to go until the officer found Oliver. He’d been in the opposite corner waiting for his cell phone to charge. He immediately hopped up once he saw them.
“Thank you so much, officer.” He said, shaking his hand and turning to Laurel and Anna Sage. “Come stay by me. I’ve got some hand sanitizer here if you need any.”
“What’s going on?” Laurel asked, rushing to take a seat next to Oliver. The officer took his leave while Oliver, who was fussing with his phone, hadn’t seem to have heard him. He waited a minute and sighed. “Dad?”
“I’m sorry, I’m… I’m not sure.” Oliver stammered, placing his phone on his thigh and pinching the bridge of his nose. “The man at the front desk didn’t have any information other than a car accident. I’m sure there’s more information that they aren’t telling us yet, but I’m not inclined to speculate on what that might be.”
He sighed, rubbed his hand over his face and looked to Laurel.
“I’m so proud of how you’re both handling this, though.” He said, smiling weakly and leaning over to look at Anna Sage. “Did you two have a fun night?”
“... We were.” Anna Sage replied, pouting. “Until now.”
“I know… This isn’t very nice, is it?” Oliver said, clearing his throat. “I’m sure they’ll tell us what’s going on soon and we’ll be back home before we know it. Everything is going to be fi-”
The sound of the waiting room door flying open caught the attention of the room and Sherwood Kipling stomped straight up to the counter. He argued loudly with the nurses for a moment before one of them pointed to where Laurel, Oliver, and Anna Sage were sitting. He huffed something about the staff being useless and marched over to his family.
“Lousy dump of a hospital.” He grumbled, plopping himself right into the empty chair next to Oliver. He crossed his leg, folded his arms, and looked to Oliver incredulously. “How come you weren’t answering your phone? They called me twice and when I finally picked up they said you couldn’t be reached!”
“I’ve been grading papers all day and left my phone in the car.” Oliver sighed. “I must’ve gotten sidetracked when I was getting dinner.”
“Hmmm…” Sherwood hummed, leaning forward to watch a doctor go past. “I can’t believe this is happening, honestly. Have you heard anything about their condition?”
“No, nothing yet.”
“Bloody hell. This hospital is the absolute worst, let me tell you!”
“Calm down, I’m sure they’ll come get us as soon as possible.”
“Yes, and we’ll sit here and catch some flesh eating disease while they talk about their fabulous vacations or some other nonsense.”
“Stop. You're upsetting the kids.”
“Oh. Right.” Sherwood said, leaning forward to look at Laurel and Anna Sage. “Wait, who was Anna with if you weren’t home? And where’s Devin?”
“She was staying with me.” Laurel said, adjusting himself in his seat. “I texted Devin before Anna got dropped off and he said he might be staying with a friend tonight. Someone should let him know what’s going on.”
“I don’t know. I think we should wait.” Oliver said, glancing at his watch. “We don’t know anything about what’s happened yet. I don’t want to scare him. He’d have no way of getting here.”
“I’d go pick him up.” Sherwood offered, motioning to Laurel. “Did he say where he was staying?”
“No. Just that he was staying with a friend.” Laurel replied.
“Typical teenager.” Sherwood mumbled. “Couldn’t he grab a bus or something? An Uber?”
“Not this late.” Oliver said. “I don’t think he’s got the money for a ride, either. We’ll just have to wait.”
There was further discussion of when, how, and if Orville and Theodora should be called and brought in, but Oliver and Sherwood eventually agreed it would be best to leave it for now. Laurel was thankful for this. He was already nervous enough as it was and he didn’t want to be left without Oliver or Sherwood in case something went wrong. It didn’t seem like anything would be happening for a while, though, especially as the clock ticked well past midnight and moved onto early morning. Magazines were read, rows were paced, and several failed attempts at sleeping were had by all parties. Anna Sage had been the only one to succeed so far, and even she was barely keeping her eyes closed. Laurel covered her with his coat and kept trying to distract himself.
A woman in labor came through around one fifteen and was whisked away by a team of nurses before he could get a good look at her face. Her partner had kept good pace with them but looked absolutely petrified. Another woman came in with a large bruise on her face. A man followed soon after with a broken foot. Then came a child being rushed in on a gurney, an old man who had fallen, and one very tired looking teenager being held up by their mother. Some people were immediately processed and taken back. The people with obvious, life-threatening issues that required treatment. Those who weren't bleeding out or had failing vital signs were told to wait until they were called and sat outside for several minutes at best. He’d glance over them repeatedly, watching for any sign of change in them that might place them in the other, more serious party.
However, while he watched another team of paramedics push a gurney like a race car through the room and into the hallway, he had an unsettling thought. All the people who were far more serious were already being treated. Furthermore, a family member looking for someone who had been brought in ten minutes before was whisked away to the back like their life depended on it. Why hadn’t they been brought straight to the back when they’d arrived? Had they been a few minutes too late and, for whatever reason, now had to wait out here without any idea what was going on? That didn’t seem right. There had to be more to this. Why would they take that one family member so quickly to their sick person and not his family for his aunt and uncle? He bit his lip as he thought, a familiar lump forming in his throat. He tried to swallow it down, took several deep breaths, and looked up as a doctor entered the room. He watched, heart racing, as the doctor talked to a nurse and the nurse pointed over to he and his family. He held his breath and nudged Oliver awake as the doctor walked over.
“Are you the family of Rose Marie and Peter Carole?” The doctor asked.
“Yes we are.” Oliver said, standing up and motioning to Sherwood, Laurel, and Anna Sage. “We’re Rose Marie’s brothers, nephew, and daughter. Tell us, are they al-”
“Do you have any idea how long we’ve been waiting?” Sherwood interrupted, tapping his watch. “How could it possibly take you this long to come and tell us what’s happened? What kind of a mess are you running here?”
“I apologize for the wait.” The doctor said, nodding along. “Please, follow me.”
The doctor lead the family out of the room, across the hall, and down another hallway. Laurel held Anna Sage’s hand as they followed along and noticed several empty gurneys and other equipment left out in the hall. He also noticed the first names of each patient on their files outside the doors they passed. Allen, Ronald, John, Mary, Teresa, Karla, so many different names and people. He frowned, feeling sad that they all had to be here for whatever reason they had. This place had to be the worst place to be in the world.
After a while the doctor paused outside a door that required a key card to enter and scanned it in. Laurel watched Sherwood and Oliver share a terrified glance and paused right as the doctor motioned for them to enter. Oliver, slowly, turned to Laurel.
“You two stay out here.” He said, pointing to the space right next to the door. “Don’t go anywhere until we come out.”
Laurel nodded and the door was shut, leaving he and Anna Sage outside in the hallway by themselves. Suddenly, Laurel was aware of how different this hallway was from the one when you entered the hospital. It was quiet, almost painfully so, but you could scarcely hear the murmuring of televisions and conversations from inside of patient’s rooms if you really tried hard enough. This hallway was just as uncomfortable for him to be in. The first one had far too much stimulation while this one was completely devoid of it. He leaned against the wall and strained to hear the conversation going on inside the room that Oliver and Sherwood had gone into. He could make out the doctor’s voice just a bit when Anna Sage tugged on his sleeve.
“You okay?” He asked.
“Can you pick me up?” Anna Sage said, her lips twisting. “I’m scared.”
“Of course!” Laurel said, pulling her up into his arms. Thank God she’d asked. He’d been hoping to give her a good cuddle, for both of their sakes. He let her rest her head on his shoulder and gently gave her a pat. “Is that better?”
“Mhm…” Anna Sage hummed, before looking him in the eyes. “Are you scared?”
“... Yeah, not gonna lie. I am.” Laurel sighed, his lips puckering. “I’ve been pretty scared this entire time. I don’t like this place, not at all.”
“Me either. I wish I knew where my mom and dad were.”
Laurel’s heart sank in his chest as Anna fully rested in his arms. The longer this wait took, the more he felt like something wasn’t right. He leaned against the wall again and deliberated before moving to peek into the room. He could see the doctor sitting down across from Oliver and Sherwood looking very somber and had to crane his neck to see what his father and uncle were doing. Oliver had his body partially blocked by the door, but it was obvious that he was holding his head in his hands and crying. Sherwood was standing up, his hands firmly planted in his hair, and facing away from the door. Whatever the news the doctor had for the family, it didn’t look good.
“What can you see, Laurel?” Anna Sage asked.
“Uh-uh… Nothing!” Laurel lied, moving away from the door. “They must be… Sitting outside of our view. Don’t know why, but I can't see them. Sorry.”
“Oh… I hope they come out soon.”
“Me too, Anna. Me too.”
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 2253 words 2255 words = 11pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 13pts (Total overall: 31/200pts)
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
Offline
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
Offline
Posted: Sun May 05, 2019 11:31 pm
(May 2nd 2019)
Rose Marie and Peter Carole were pronounced dead at the hospital at precisely 10 a.m. on May 2nd, 2019. Their car had been struck on the way back to Oliver’s house by a drunk driver going thirty miles per hour over the legal speed limit heading the wrong direction. They had been hurtled backward about a mile, smashing up and down the entire way, and were found upside down on the divider. There had apparently been a pulse for Rose Marie upon extraction from the vehicle, while the paramedics had to work to get Peter’s heart started again. However, they both rapidly declined once they arrived at the hospital, and after hours of working on them, the hospital staff ran out of options. They had called Oliver and Sherwood in to make the final call.
The decision had been extremely difficult. It had really come down to a question of quality of life, if any, for either of them. Oliver and Sherwood had agreed that letting Rose Marie and Peter remain in a vegetative state would be cruel and that, if they truly were brain dead, it would be best if they were no longer miserable. Everyone was called in to the ICU to say goodbye. No one could get a hold of Devin for several hours until, finally, he showed up frantic in the emergency room waiting room after taking a series of buses to get there. Orville and Theodora were picked up by Sherwood and, though thoroughly distraught, agreed that Oliver and Sherwood had made the right decision. Rose Marie and Peter were taken off life support while the rest of the family surrounded them, holding hands and heads bowed in prayer.
Over the course of the next twenty four hours, Laurel started to feel like something wasn’t right. It wasn’t like the way he’d felt outside the crying room, as he’d later found out it was called, and it wasn’t like when he’d met Thatcher. No, this feeling had to do with something about him, inside, instead of something from the outside. He couldn’t put a name to it, as with many feelings before, and did his best to distract himself by focusing on his family. Everyone was shattered. The house was filled with crying, at times screaming, and his chest was constantly pounding. He wanted to help, honestly. He’d given everyone as much love as he could muster, but there didn’t seem to be enough. He couldn’t remove himself from the situation. Deep breathing no longer helped. Everything felt so loud, so big, and so difficult to handle.
The only person who felt remotely “safe” was Anna Sage. She’d cried for hours through the night and remained virtually silent from there forward. Her current position was on the couch, where she’d been sitting enjoying her victory ice cream only hours ago. Laurel would go check on her from time to time and set himself next to her, offering his arms and chest for love and support. Though she would often refuse, just being next to each other seemed to make a difference for both of them. Then others would enter the room and Laurel would leave, heading into another “empty” room until the process repeated. It was like a game of musical chairs, only there wasn’t any music, or chairs, or fun. Just the constant drum beat of stress and anxiety.
After a while of doing this, Laurel started to piece together an idea of what he was feeling. He’d been offering everything he had to give in the name of love and support, but he hadn’t actually been doing any grieving himself. In fact, he felt almost pressured to feel something, like he had to but couldn’t. The realization made him feel sick somewhere deep inside. Shouldn’t he be crying? Utterly broken and beside himself? He’d just lost his aunt and uncle, two very important people in his life. Why wasn’t he acting like everyone else? Was there something wrong with him?
He tried to put it out of his mind, but found himself pausing multiple times and picking himself apart over it. He felt sad, but not profoundly, which was wrong. Right? You were supposed to be freaking out after someone died. You were supposed to feel destroyed. Angry, depressed, scared, anything but nothing. Yet, there he was, having just gone through a major loss and he couldn’t even make himself cry over the memories they made together.
But maybe that was the problem. Rose Marie and Peter hadn’t made much of an effort to get to know him. He hadn’t made many memories with them to begin with. They were barely around and the only things he could think of as significant to him were when they gave him gifts for his birthday or Christmas. Did that make him a selfish nephew? No, no, he’d always been grateful for their gifts, but it seemed low to mourn over someone because they got you great presents. You had to actually feel like you lost them, like your entire life would never be the same without them. Losing someone you loved meant questioning how you’d ever go on. Everything he’d seen on tv that featured loss had people and characters that were so distraught they even thought that their lives were no longer worth living without whoever they’d lost. Why didn’t he feel like this? Why couldn’t he feel like this?
By the time he was ready for bed, he’d metaphorically eaten himself alive and gotten absolutely nowhere. The only thing he’d managed to accomplish was exhaust himself. It kept him awake through the night. No amount of warm, soothing blankets could keep him asleep for long, but when he finally did, he dreamt of an endless black expanse. This kind of recurring dream had previously brought him a sense of peace. Judgement was usually there to lend a cool, comforting hand to his forehead and help him relax.
This time, however, he felt a different kind of cold. A harsh, bitter cold that he couldn’t rub away. There was no kind, gentle hand to stroke his head and make him feel safe. Instead, he felt frightened, he felt desperate, and he felt alone.
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1040 words 1040 words = 5pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 7pts (Total overall: 38/200pts)
Posted: Mon May 06, 2019 10:36 pm
(May 5th 2019)
The dream continued to repeat itself over the next three days until the day of the funeral. He’d woken coiled up in his blankets, his arm and head dangling precariously off the edge of the bed, and allowed himself to gently roll onto the floor and stare up at the ceiling. Every inch of his body felt tired, but his brain refused to listen. It kept reminding him of what he wasn’t feeling, instead of what he was, and nagged and nagged until he eventually forced himself up to greet the day. There was no rest for the weary, especially if that weary person was you.
He started the day as usual. He took a quick shower, brushed his teeth, and styled his hair, but did everything slowly and carefully. It was easy to hurt yourself when you were tired. He’d bashed his elbow on the wall of the shower enough times trying to rush through his routine to prove that. It was better to pace yourself and be late than blast through something and end up with a ridiculous bruise. He’d just about finished combing his hair when there was a knock on the door.
“Yeah?”
“It’s me.” Oliver said through the door. “I’ve left an outfit for you to wear over your dresser. Please see if it fits. We’ve got to leave here by eleven.”
“Got’cha”
The ensemble was nothing too special. A plain white dress shirt, a black button up coat, and a simple, matte black tie. None of them seemed particularly worn or old, something that gave an idea to how rare the occasions for them were. He pinched the fabric of the shirt with his thumb and pointer finger and ran it downwards. Loose, light, and breathable, just the way he liked it. There would be some folding along the bottom in order to keep the shirt from sticking out under the jacket, but no other alterations would be needed. He moved over to his mirror to put it on.
“Could they make these buttons a little harder to work with?” He grumbled. The sleeves on the jacket were giving him trouble. He knew Oliver would make a fuss if he didn’t button the cuffs, though. Something about them looking more presentable that way, but he didn’t recall having this much of a problem with them before. It wasn’t like the jacket was too tight. He’d only worn it once and couldn’t have grown out of it by now, right?
He fiddled for an age until the cuffs finally cooperated and sat properly before moving on to the tie. This was something he did remember struggling with. You had to twist it into a knot somehow without strangling yourself or getting it lopsided, a skill he’d yet to acquire. He held it in his hand and stared it down, as though the sheer will of his thoughts alone would make it cooperate. There was no such luck, of course, as it ended up being thrown against his bed after six failed attempts. Winded and angry, he turned his glare toward the mirror.
“Why are you like this?” He asked his reflection. He balled his hands into fists at his side and clenched his jaw. “You don’t feel like you should, you’re exhausted, and you can’t ******** get a tie on correctly. There’s something very wrong with you.”
He gave himself a good, long stare and felt a heavy weight settle into his chest. This felt wrong, too. Telling himself off like this. He didn’t have to beat himself up for not being able to get a tie on correctly. It was so much easier to get frustrated with himself, though. He had nowhere else to place his feelings right now. Everyone else was busy with their own emotional breakdowns. He couldn’t add to the pile with his own whining. It would only make everyone else feel worse.
And besides. No one here would understand how he felt about the deaths. Not even he understood himself. He’d had three entire days and nights to figure this out on his own and had nothing to show for it aside from giant black bags under his eyes and a whole lot of frustration. None of it seemed worth the struggle, but he couldn’t put it away. He knew there was something wrong with him, there had to be, but was berating himself in a mirror going to help him figure that out? He wasn’t sure how to answer that either.
He retrieved the tie with a heavy sigh and moved on to attempt number seven. His hands shook as he wrapped the fabric around his neck and watched himself make a loop. It was there, as he was setting up another knot, that he swore he saw something change in the background of his reflection. Another room, a different window, familiar but definitely not home. He paused, eyes wide with fright and confusion, and placed his free hand against the glass. He remembered that room, he’d been there not too long ago. He moved closer to the mirror and studied his reflection intently. He looked slightly younger, flushed, but just as exhausted as he was here. He tilted his head, his mirrored self turning to face another direction, and wracked his brain trying to remember where this was.
Then, a familiar blue face flashed in front of him. Bulging eyes, deprived of oxygen, a face he’d long since buried under months and months of time. Marcus Neilson.
He threw himself away from the mirror, his scream strangled by panic, and held himself up against his dresser. He hyperventilated and shook, everything he’d felt back then hitting him like a freight train, before forcing himself to look in the mirror again. Nothing but his own reflection. He placed a hand over his heart and breathed in and out. This had happened before, but he’d always found he was dreaming then. He shut his eyes and opened them several times. No, no, this wasn’t a dream. He’d really seen that, or at the very least hallucinated it. He didn’t know which he’d rather believe, though the latter seemed most likely. He was beyond tired and could have easily slipped into a half-dreaming state. He’d read up on sleep paralysis and the like after talking to Devin about some of his nightmares, but to be upright and facing a mirror while experiencing it? That didn’t seem plausible.
So why else would he have seen that, if it weren’t because of a dream? Was it a sign? A message? If so, of what and in response to what? He shook his head and clenched his jaw. Think, Laurel, think. What did it mean? Why was he seeing this now, on the day of his aunt and uncle’s funeral? It had to have meaning. You didn’t just see a dead man’s face appear in your mirror without explanation. Everything in media told you otherwise. It was either a message from beyond, a curse, or you were out of your goddamn ******** mind. He didn’t have much time to waste on this, either. His dad needed him ready by eleven and it was ten thirty-five. What was it? Come on, think, think, think!
He grasped the sides of his head, held his breath, and closed his eyes. If it was a message from beyond, it was given on a very significant day. Marcus Neilson had died in December of 2017, almost two years ago. He’d gone to that funeral. He’d worn this outfit. He’d seen how horrible death could be. He’d been through this before. He’d…
He’d felt this way before.
His eyes flew open wide as it all finally came together. Marcus’ funeral. Marcus’ death. Rose Marie and Peter’s deaths. He’d felt exactly the same way for Marcus as he felt for his aunt and uncle now. Marcus had been a total stranger. He was his father’s former lover and friend. He’d only known him for a week before he died. The death had a horrible impact on him because he’d been there to see Marcus’ body the minute after he died. However, what he hadn’t felt was grief. He hadn’t broken down like everyone else. He wasn’t emotionally involved with either of the Neilson or Damino families. He’d only felt sad for Oliver and Devin, and maybe Asher. The feeling finally dawned on him. Sympathy. He’d felt sympathy. Not empathy. He couldn’t feel what everyone else was feeling because he didn’t have the emotional connections that everyone else had with the deceased. It had been so awkward for him, watching everyone else grieve while he could only offer a hug or a word of comfort. He’d also been pretty sick, too, but that didn’t factor into how much he cared back then.
But now, in the present day, he was feeling the exact same way and doing the exact same things as he had done back then. No emotional connection, just sympathy for everyone else involved. This time, though, it was his own family. This actually hit home, not close, but home. Dead center, on target, he’d lost significant members of his immediate family, and yet, he didn’t feel like he had lost anything big at all. He felt like he’d lost a distant relative, or maybe a friend of his had lost a relative.
There was no doubt about it now. There was something seriously wrong with him. He was a heartless monster, incapable of grief and empathy. What other conclusion could he draw from this? Sure, it was a unreasonable for him to feel utterly distraught over Marcus’ death because he was a perfect stranger, but this was his actual family. People he’d talked to at least once a month. People who had given him gifts, love, and hugs. People who may not have always been there, but were still supposed to be important figures in his life. Today was his aunt and uncle’s funeral and he felt the same way for them as he’d done for a complete stranger. Why was he like this? How was he like this?
He heaved into his hands and tried to keep himself from spiraling further into an anxiety attack. What was he going to do at the funeral? Everyone else would surely be beside themselves and overwhelmed with grief, and he couldn’t even bring himself to fake crying. How was he supposed to keep his family from figuring this out? It was like he was an alien in his own family. Something completely foreign, unknown, and incapable of understanding proper human emotions. He was sure they’d notice him looking awkward and nervous instead of distraught. It was going to be so ******** obvious! He shook, grinded his teeth, and grasped the side of his head again.
“Oh, no wonder you’re taking so long...”
“Dad?” Laurel gasped, his attention snapping straight to Oliver. He hadn’t even heard the door open, let alone a knock. Tears welled up in his eyes. How much had he seen? What was he thinking? He grasped for the tie that hung loosely around his neck.
“I thought you might be having trouble with that, so I came up to check on you.” Oliver said, kneeling down to Laurel’s level. He pulled the tie into a knot so quick and effortlessly that Laurel wished he’d simply asked from the beginning. Then, he cupped Laurel’s cheek with his hand. “Sweetheart, I know how you feel.”
“Y-you do?”
“Absolutely.” Oliver began, gently hugging Laurel. “It’s all hitting you at once, but I promise you that you’re not alone. We’re all going through this together.”
“O-oh, yeah…” Laurel said. His heart sank further into his chest. “I’m… Sorry for making you worry.”
“No, it’s alright. I understand. As long as you’re getting ready, then there’s nothing to worry about.”
“Okay… Can I meet you downstairs in a sec, then?”
“Sure. Go splash your face and fix your hair. We’ll be in the car.”
Laurel watched Oliver go downstairs before heading straight into the bathroom. Sure, now he looked teary-eyed and despondent, but not for the right reason. Oliver had assumed that he was breaking down just like everyone else but, if he had known the truth, Laurel was sure it would have broken his heart. He grabbed a washcloth, doused it with water, and rubbed at his face.
The reflection in the mirror looked the same as he always did. Same red hair, same red eyes, same everything. But now, instead of seeing himself as someone beautiful and kind, all he could see staring back at him was a monster in disguise.
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 2110 words 2110 words = 10pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 12pts (Total overall: 50/200pts)
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Posted: Tue May 07, 2019 9:03 pm
(May 5th 2019)
In stark contrast to the day of Marcus’ funeral, everything was teeming with new life. Spring had launched itself into overdrive overnight, it seemed, and the drive to the church had been full of beautiful things. Tulips, daffodils, and dandelions lined the sidewalks. Birds of all kinds flew in and out of trees from every direction. Little animals scurried out across roads, over grass, and under bushes in a grave hurry to get somewhere, someplace, wherever they had to go. Laurel wondered, in this car full of sadness and silence, if those little animals had any concept of death. If anything not human-like in this world had any concept of death. Did the plants know that they were going to die come autumn and their bodies buried by snow in winter? Did the deer, squirrels, and rabbits have an afterlife of their own and go there after being eaten or hit by a car? Were people like he, and the rest of the human-like creatures, the only ones that truly knew and understood the finality of death?
He liked to think they did. It would be a lonely experience otherwise.
He swallowed his questions down as they stopped at a stoplight and sat outside a playground. Children were running, playing, swinging, laughing as others gave chase and tagged. Some slipped and fell to the ground. He watched one child pull themselves up and dust themselves off before rejoining their friends and couldn’t avoid the thoughts that came to his mind. Did children understand? Did they know about death and loss? What did they think of it, if they did? Were they scared? Did they struggle to grieve? Did they feel detached, like him?
The car moved along and he found himself looking at Anna Sage. She wasn’t looking very well at all, despite wearing such a pretty dress. He supposed he could answer his own questions right there as he observed her. She looked like her entire world had collapsed around her. Her eyes were staring straight ahead, fixated upon the back of the driver’s seat, and she didn’t seem to notice him staring. He felt a twinge of sadness and leaned back into his seat, only to turn to check on Devin a second later. He had his eyes closed, but he clearly wasn’t sleeping. His hands were clasped in his lap, his lips were tightly pulled and twisted, and he wasn’t resting against the seat.
When he did open his eyes, Laurel had moved his focus on to Oliver. Out of all of the people in this car, Oliver had to be the most rested and well-dressed. Laurel, however, could tell that he was barely holding himself together. He kept jerking the wheel and muttering comments about other drivers under his breath. Everyone else on the roads seemed to be unobservant, slow, or even out of their minds today but him, and Laurel was worried that he was one more cut-off away from pulling over and losing it. His father was a strong person, yes, but under this kind of stress? He wasn’t sure what to expect.
Thankfully the four of them arrived safely at the cemetery parking lot without having to stop. Everyone seemed to step out slowly and take a collective deep breath before Oliver stepped in front and lead the way to the entrance. Devin followed suit, his hands shoved in the pockets of his trousers, and Laurel offered a hand down to Anna to hold. She opted to nudge against him instead and, weakly, asked to be held and carried as she wasn’t feeling well. He obliged.
The walk up the church was short, but felt far longer than it actually was. Laurel couldn’t help but keep his eyes on the ground and focus on the pretty white clovers and overgrown grass that curled up around the edges of the path. There were a couple of dandelions pushing up through the stones and he found himself pausing to consider why they’d choose such a difficult place to grow. Eventually he had to turn his gaze back upward as Devin called to him. Outside the church stood the priest, Sherwood, Orville, and Theodora. The door was decorated with a large wreath weaved with fresh daffodils and white camellia flowers. Four stone vases stood adorning the stairs that were filled with calla lilies. They hung downward, almost somber in nature, and Laurel couldn’t think of something more appropriate to have for the occasion.
He set Anna Sage down and walked her up to join the group. The priest offered them a kind, knowing smile, and held his hand over them.
“Lords of love and mercy,” He began, eyes closed. Laurel watched as everyone else followed, eyes closed and heads bowed, and quickly mimicked them. “Embrace all those whose hearts today overflow with grief, unanswered questions and such a sense of loss. Grant them the space to express their tears and hold them close through the coming days. Amen.”
“Amen.” Laurel muttered. He’d been off cue, just like when they’d prayed over Rose Marie and Peter in the hospital. The idea of prayer was still foreign to him. He’d heard of it, sure, but only through movies and television. This was the second time he’d ever prayed in his life and it was still something strange. It wasn’t that prayer made him uncomfortable, but it did feel oddly familiar. He brushed the feeling away when he saw the priest preparing to speak again.
“My condolences for your great and tragic loss, my friends.” He said, giving the group a sweeping glance. He paused on Laurel for a moment, no doubt out of intrigue, and continued. “Is this all that will be attending?”
“Yes father.” Oliver said. “My brother-in-law was an only child and his parents are already departed. I’m afraid that we are all the family he had left.”
“And a fine family you are.” The priest said, moving to open the door. “Follow me inside and we’ll start the service.”
As everyone prepared to follow the priest, the sharp sound of tires screeching to a halt just out of sight caught them off guard. A car door was slammed, opened, and slammed shut again before a familiar figure came running up the path. Thatcher Kipling.
He made a beeline for the church, only pausing to adjust his shoe at the top of the hill, and jogged the rest of the way. He then stopped, placed his hands on his knees, and took a good moment to catch his breath.
“I-I made it just in time!” He gasped, clutching his chest. “At… Least I hope I have.”
Anna Sage tugged her hand away from Laurel’s grasp and ran to Thatcher. Thatcher pulled her into a tight hug and held her for a moment, before letting her go and noticing the look on everyone’s face. He made a nervous face of his own and tugged on his collar.
“I… Got the earliest flight I could when I got the call.” He said, bowing his head. “I’m sorry.”
“And you are?” The priest asked.
“Thatcher Kipling… The brother of Rose Marie.”
“I see.” The priest replied, nodding. “Well, if this is everyone, kindly follow me.”
Everyone else quickly followed the priest while Laurel and Thatcher both hesitated. Laurel held his eyes on Thatcher for a moment before moving, slowly, across the stairs. He paused again at the top, bit his lip, and sighed.
“It’s nice to see you again.” He offered. He wasn’t entirely sure if he meant it, but the greeting seemed appropriate for this situation. “Do you… Uh… Want to go in together?”
“Yeah. Same here.” Thatcher said, lifting his gaze. There was a definite sadness to his eyes. He was clearly more than shaken. “... That would be nice, Laurel. Thank you.”
Thatcher stepped up to join Laurel at the door. There was another moment of hesitation before they each offered an arm to one another and locked them. Then, they entered the church.
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1338 words 1338 words = 6pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 8pts (Total overall: 58/200pts)
Posted: Wed May 08, 2019 9:40 pm
(May 5th 2019)
Laurel set himself down on a nearby bench as everyone else gathered inside for a bagel brunch set up by the church. The ceremony and subsequent burials had gone off completely without a hitch and now, as the last shovels of dirt were being patted down upon the newly marked graves, he finally had a moment to himself to reflect. He didn’t know how long he had until everyone went back home to Oliver’s, but he knew he wouldn’t have any time to himself there once they did. He leaned back against the bench and closed his eyes.
The ceremony had been beautiful. From the intricate floral displays to the lighting, all the way to the breathtaking memorial collage that Devin had spent the previous three days putting together. So many lovely photos taken from countless photo albums and portraits, Laurel thought it should have gone in a museum under different circumstances. The caskets themselves were gorgeous, too. They’d been opened for the family only viewing, though, and watching Anna Sage place flowers next to her parents had been heart-wrenching. Oliver then read a moving eulogy that brought tears to his eyes. He’d worked so hard getting everything ready for this day and, to Laurel, balancing all this heartbreaking preparation while still finding the time to write something so breathtaking had to be the hardest thing imaginable.
Still, while he’d been moved by the words, songs, and feelings of the ceremony, Laurel had yet to feel anything but sympathy. He’d only felt pain for others, not pain for the deceased, and not pain of his own. Even as the caskets were lowered down and everyone was holding each other, he still couldn’t make himself cry for his aunt and uncle. He could cry for Anna Sage who shook and cried and needed to be held. He could cry for Devin who obviously wanted to cling on to Thatcher but refused to budge. He could cry for his grandparents who held one another the entire time, both looking like they’d rather be in their daughter’s place. But to cry for Rose Marie and Peter himself? No. He’d tried. He’d tried so hard, he might have popped a blood vessel. He felt sick, he felt broken, and he felt like a goddamn heartless monster.
He rubbed his face in frustration. He must have gone over this with himself a thousand times by now and ended up with nothing but anger and self-hatred. It wasn’t like he was completely devoid of emotion, but the way he felt was obviously not good enough. He’d observed his family. They were all levels of destroyed while he just looked… Sad. Not like, depressed sad, but kinda sad. Somewhere between disappointed and watching the sad part of a kid’s movie. Yeah, okay, he felt more sad than that, but that wasn’t the point. He didn’t feel like he’d lost the entire world, not even now at the funeral where this was literally saying goodbye forever. He didn’t look like he’d never come back from this no matter how hard he tried and he was paranoid that somehow, someway, someone in his family would figure that out, and they would hate him for it.
That was a reality that he couldn’t take. He loved his family. They were his entire world. It was just the ones that didn’t make the effort that he found hard to get close to. Rose Marie, Peter, Sherwood, Thatcher… Especially Thatcher, they all weren’t really around. Now the doors were permanently closed on two of those people and he’d never get to know them. He still had a chance to get to know his uncles, if both stuck around. Maybe this was a wake-up call for him? To make the effort for them and try to be a more proactive nephew?
“You b*****d! Where the hell do you think you’re going?”
“I’ve already told you, I won’t tolerate you speaking to me like this!”
“What are you going to do about it? Run away? Like you’ve done you’re entire ******** life?”
“I’m telling you, Sherwood, back off!”
Laurel opened his eyes and turned toward the church. The doors, previously closed, had likely been blown open by Thatcher in an attempt to get away from a red-faced Sherwood who was jabbing a pointed finger right into Thatcher’s chest. They continued to yell at each other, Sherwood hurling as many swear words as he could muster into each breath and Thatcher barking that he wanted absolutely nothing to do with this bullshit. Oliver stepped in to break them up when it continued to escalate and ended up getting a good shove from Sherwood. Laurel restrained himself and continued to watch from afar.
… How the hell could they do this? Of all the places and times to start an argument, they’d chosen a funeral. And not just any funeral, a double funeral for their own sister and brother-in-law. Furthermore, his father wasn’t doing anything productive to deescalate the situation. He kept inserting himself between Sherwood and Thatcher, nudging them apart and getting caught right in the middle of it instead. Sherwood didn’t seem to be taking no for an answer, not from either of them, and Thatcher obviously didn’t want to back down. They both had a right to be there, mourning the family members they’d lost. Laurel gripped the bench in frustration.
Everyone else’s reactions varied. The priest was hovering somewhere between the argument and the rest of his family. Orville and Theodora looked nervous and embarrassed. Devin was already taking off down the path, undoubtedly headed straight for the car. However, when he looked through the chaos to find her, Laurel couldn’t see Anna Sage. He shoved himself off the bench, frantic, and breathed a sigh of relief when he saw her huddled by the stairs with her face pressed against her knees.
Then, he got angry. There she was, at her own parent’s funeral, sobbing by herself while her uncles screamed at each other. This was the worst day of her entire life and the adults around her were failing her. No one was looking out for her. No one was comforting her. No one was trying to get her somewhere safe. He balled his hands into fists, growled, and hustled right over.
“And another thing, you-”
“I’ve heard enough of this stupid, <********>, bullshit!” Laurel screamed. He shoved Sherwood and Thatcher apart and nudged Oliver out of the way. He was about to head straight for Anna Sage when a hand clasped down on his shoulder. He locked eyes with his father. “What?”
“Don’t look at me like that.” Oliver said. He looked shocked, maybe scared. For the very first time, Laurel didn’t care. “What’s wrong?”
“What’s wrong?” Laurel repeated, clasping his hands. “I mean, aside from watching two of the most selfish people in the world argue in a cemetery? Nothing. Everything is fine.”
He watched for a reaction. Oliver seemed to simply grow more concerned, not that it mattered to Laurel right now. The faces he was most interested in were Sherwood and Thatcher. For a moment he reconsidered, but releasing this felt cathartic. He stared them down.
“That’s right. I called you both selfish.” He continued, licking his lips. “One of you decides to go and come as he pleases, without a goddamn care to whoever you hurt in the process. The other thinks he can ask my father for anything and everything and repays the favor by starting an argument at a <******** funeral.”
“Laurel, that’s enou-” Oliver started.
“No, I’m not done yet!” Laurel interrupted, whipping around to face his father. “You might be okay with being the biggest pushover in this family, but I refuse. I can’t stand watching you deal with everything your brothers decide to throw on top of you. I never spoke up about it before out of politeness, but now-”
He looked to Anna Sage, who had looked up as soon as Laurel started shouting. He took a deep breath and headed over to her.
“Now I can see that there are things more important than being polite.”
He offered his arms out to Anna and she practically latched onto him. He muttered a gentle apology to her for taking so long to come get her and raised his head to glare at the rest of the group.
“When you guys are ready to stop being assholes,” He said, nudging himself past Sherwood, Oliver, and Thatcher. “Anna Sage, Devin, and I will be waiting by the car.”
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1426 words 1426 words = 7pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 9pts (Total overall: 67/200pts)
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Posted: Wed May 08, 2019 11:00 pm
(May 5th 2019)
Barely anyone made a sound for the rest of the afternoon and evening, and Laurel wasn’t sure whether to feel solely responsible for it or just a contributing factor. One thing he did know was that he was still really ******** pissed. Like, beyond “you’ve disappointed the entire town, kicked my dog, and ruined Christmas” level pissed. He was on another planet, in another galaxy, in an alternate universe level of pissed. However, instead of lashing out again and letting everyone know, he retreated to the safety of his room once he was done helping clean up the kitchen and everyone else had gone to bed.
He still couldn’t believe that Sherwood and Thatcher had the audacity to argue in such a sacred place at such an important time. He didn’t even care who started it. All that mattered was they’d placed their stupid petty bullshit higher than the feelings of everyone else and he couldn’t understand how anyone could be so selfish. There was no way that either of them could have been oblivious to it either. They were grown men. People with experience well beyond his years. He’d hoped that the adults in his life would be rational, in control of their emotions, and set a good example. You know, like how every other adult in the world operated. At least he hoped they did.
The only thing that upset him more than how they’d behaved was how everyone seemed to have looked over Anna Sage except for him. She’d just lost her parents. They were there for their funeral. It wasn’t like she was the most important person to look after out of all of them, right? Again, no way they could have been oblivious here. She was left alone to cry by the stairs while the three most important adults in her life at that moment fought in front of her. She’d run to Thatcher and hugged him for ******** sake! The least he could do in return was remember that she existed and actually, you know, protect her.
Hell, even Oliver seemed to forget her. He’d jumped right into breaking up the argument instead of right to who needed him the most. Maybe if the fight had actually gotten violent he could see why pulling them apart would matter more, but for the moment, Laurel couldn’t reconcile it.
He pressed his face into his pillow and let out a long, heaving sigh. God this was stressful. Exceedingly so. The wait at the hospital, his struggle to grieve, and now all of this. How was he supposed to cope with such a huge mountain of stress? Deep breathing only helped with so much and going to his mental happy space seemed more like escapism than relief. He was already trying to avoid the stress by coming in here and he was still fuming and growling over it. If he couldn’t cope with it on his own or hide from it, what was he supposed to do?
A knock on his door broke his thought process.
“Who is it?” He called.
“Just me.” Oliver said. “Can I come in?”
“Sure!”
Laurel pulled himself upward as Oliver entered the room and watched as he made himself comfortable on the edge of the bed. He knew this position. This was the “I’ve got to talk to you” position. No doubt this was about what happened at the funeral. He tried to study Oliver for a sign of any negative emotion, but he mostly looked tired. Not something you’d call indicative.
“What’s up?” He asked.
“Nothing’s… Up.” Oliver sighed, nudging himself closer to the wall. “I just wanted to talk to you.”
“About what?”
“Something you said at the funeral.”
“Ah.” Laurel nodded. He’d been right. “Okay, so, what? Like when I yelled at Sherwood and Thatcher?”
“I should be talking to you about that, too.” Oliver replied, making a face. “But I can let that go for now. What I wanted to talk about was what you said to me.”
Laurel’s ears swiveled back as Oliver made a full body adjustment to face him. He still couldn’t tell if Oliver was going to yell at him or not. He was being so calm, but clearly building up to something. He let Oliver take his hands and instinctively arched his shoulders.
“Relax, kiddo. I don’t want to yell at you.” Oliver said, rolling his eyes. “Honestly, you’re acting like I’m about to unleash an unholy wrath upon you.”
“Of course not! I know you’d never do that. I’m worried about what you’re gonna ask me, though.”
“Don’t be.”
“Alright, so what’s the big question?”
“Well… Do you really think I’m a pushover?”
Laurel paused. Oh. He hadn’t forgotten that he’d said that to Oliver, but given the way he was acting now, it was obvious that Laurel hadn’t considered the impact it would have later. Still, that didn’t mean he regretted saying it. He still felt like it was a valid statement. He took his hands back and clasped them together.
“Yes,” He said. “Only because I’ve seen how much you let other people walk all over you. Like I said earlier, I didn’t mention it before because I didn’t want to be rude, but I was so angry over what happened today I couldn't help but… Let it out.”
“I understand that.” Oliver replied, taking a deep breath in and sighing it out. “But what I don’t understand is why you think that way. What exactly do people do to me that makes you think I’m a pushover?”
“Uh, well…” Laurel began, pausing again to think. “I’ve noticed that you let people leave a lot of things for you take care of or ask you to do a lot of things for them, but you never get anything in return. Like, your brothers never seem to do anything for you, but you’re always eager to help them. I don’t think I’ve ever seen you say no, even when you were already stressed out with something else.”
He watched Oliver for a moment and felt a twinge of regret. He couldn’t tell if he was upsetting Oliver or helping him. Oliver’s expression still didn’t give much of an indication.
“You know I love you, right?” He continued, sheepishly.
“I don’t doubt that.” Oliver said, offering a weak chuckle. “Though I do think you’re confused. I’m not letting my brothers walk all over me by helping them out. That’s what family does for each other.”
“Yeah, but, aren’t you mad about getting the short end of the stick all the time?”
“How so?”
“Like, like… I mean, I literally just said that they never give you anything in return. How is that fair to you?”
“Because I don’t care about fairness. I care about making my family happy.”
“Even if it means you’re super stressed out all the time?”
“I think that’s a bit of an exaggeration.”
“It might be, but I still think they should give you a break or give you more thanks at least. That’s all.”
“And I guess that’s where you and I will have to differ for now. Goodnight, sweetheart.”
Laurel arched a brow as Oliver leaned over to give him a kiss on the forehead and watched him head for the door. Really? Could Oliver not see his perspective or something? He wasn’t entirely convinced of that, but maybe it was best to leave the topic for now. He moved to get under the covers.
“Oh,” Oliver said. “One more thing before I forget…”
“Yeah?”
“If your uncles start arguing while they’re here, let me handle it from now on, okay?”
“What if you’re not home and they’re, like, beating on each other or something?”
“Let them knock each other out. It’ll be easier on my conscious than seeing you with a black eye.”
“Duly noted. I’ll let them sort it out.”
“Thank you. Sleep tight.”
“You too.”
>>> GROWTH QUEST << 1323 words 1323 words = 6pts 1000 word bonus = +2pts Total: 8pts (Total overall: 75/200pts)
>>> GROWTH QUEST << PRP 200 words posts x? = ?pts 5 posts x? = ?pts (Rp is not complete at present; Cannot factor in the 20 post points) Total: ?pts (Total overall: Will add to current total when rp is completed)
Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Bouquet of Diamonds
Fantastic Kitten
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Posted: Mon Nov 16, 2020 9:15 am
Just boosting the journal so I can yodel and archive things if I find a place to put them.
But, Bo, what was gonna happen to Laurel?:
- Sometimes you have to stop your delusional and abusive uncle from killing your father by stopping a car with sheer force of will and that's valid.
... Explain?:
No <3
JK here's the notes I gave to Kyou. If ya'll want more details for later things, let me know
THE QUEST
Solo #1:
a. Laurel is in the living room playing Pokemon. Eventually, the doorbell rings.
b. Rose Marie and Peter come to drop Anna Sage off with Oliver so they can go on a date. Laurel offers to babysit her instead and they leave.
Solo #2:
a. Laurel is babysitting Anna Sage and they’re having a blast. Anna Sage wins another round so they race downstairs for more ice cream.
b. Laurel gets Anna her ice cream and does dishes. Someone comes to the door and he answers.
c. A police officer is at the door and informs Laurel that his aunt and uncle were in an accident. Laurel and Anna leave with the officer.
Solo #3:
a. Laurel and Anna meet up with Oliver at the hospital. He has no clue what’s going on but it’s obviously bad.
b. Sherwood arrives and demands news from the nurses. The family enters a long wait.
c. A doctor arrives and takes the family into a smaller waiting area. Laurel and Anna are left to wait outside in the hall.
Solo #4:
a. Anna Sage’s parents have died in a car accident and Laurel is struggling to grieve like the rest of his family.
Solo #5:
a. Laurel continues to beat himself up over not being able to grieve over his aunt and uncle. He feels sympathy, not empathy, and feels like this isn’t good enough.
b. It dawns on him that he felt the same way when Marcus Neilson died a year or so prior and feels more like an unfeeling monster because of it.
Solo #6:
a. The family arrives for the funeral. Laurel is determined to put on a brave face for Anna and his family.
b. Thatcher unexpectedly arrives and everyone is startled. They all head inside for the ceremony.
Solo #7:
a. Laurel is watching the burial be completed and is going over the events of the ceremony and funeral in his mind. He observes that he still can’t feel grief over the deaths, but that he also isn’t devoid of emotion either. He still doesn’t feel like that’s good enough.
b. Sherwood and Thatcher start arguing in the distance. Laurel gradually becomes infuriated by this, especially when he notices how upset Anna Sage looks. He intervenes.
c. Laurel yells at his uncles for arguing and points out their flaws. He also tells them that he thinks that his father allows them to push him around. He takes Anna back to the car with him.
Solo #8:
a. Later on, Laurel is still steaming over the argument that his uncles had in the cemetery. It really pisses him off.
b. Oliver enters and asks Laurel to clarify what he said earlier about him letting Sherwood and Thatcher push him around. Laurel explains, calling him a pushover, and asks why he puts up with so much stress from his family.
c. Oliver tries to explain that he doesn’t view the stress from his family as a burden. Laurel still doesn’t get it, but says he’ll let it go.
RP #1: Laurel/Lulu - Laurel meets up with Lulu and decides to confide in her about how he feels about the deaths.
Solo #9:
a. Laurel is thinking about everything that has happened and trying to make sense of anything Lulu might have said and/or still trying to make sense of what Oliver said previously.
b. Sherwood interrupts and accuses Laurel of not caring about the family.
c. Laurel is insulted. They argue back and forth for a bit.
d. Laurel ends up doubting that he’d done the right thing at the funeral and feels guilty. He apologizes to Sherwood for his behavior.
Solo #10:
a. Laurel decides that he should apologize to Oliver. Oliver is very busy though and he can’t find a moment to talk with him. Laurel opts to write his feelings down in a journal instead.
Solo #11:
a. Laurel goes out to Arthur’s Fables to clear his head. While looking around, a commotion catches his attention.
b. A boy is climbing all over the shelves and throwing books. The shelf suddenly starts to fall and Laurel stops it before it can crush the boy and knock into anything else. Laurel is amazed with his abilities.
Solo #12:
a. Laurel arrives home feeling proud of himself. He notices that Sherwood’s car is the only one home and he calls out for him. He investigates the house when he doesn’t answer.
b. He finds Sherwood rummaging through Oliver’s bedroom drawers. His behavior is strange and Laurel grows suspicious. He’s shooed away.
Solo #13:
a. Laurel is finishing up a journal entry when he finds he can’t shake the bad feeling over Sherwood’s behavior. He tries to tell Oliver, but he’s busy. Laurel returns to his room to find his journal gone.
Solo #14:
a. Laurel spends days trying to find his journal by himself. Not being able to write or talk to anyone is taking an emotional toll on him. He finds his journal burnt to a crisp in the fireplace. He resolves to buy a new one.
Solo #15:
a. While out shopping, Laurel notices his arms feel heavier than usual. After brushing it off as poor sleep, a painful spasm shoots up from his back and over his arm. He worries, but ignores it.
Solo #16:
a. Laurel is folding laundry when Oliver enters the room. He asks Laurel is he’s seen an envelope of money that he’d gotten from the bank a few days prior. Laurel says that he hasn’t and offers to help look, but Oliver brushes it off as him being tired and misplacing it in his bedroom. This all but confirms Laurel’s suspicions about Sherwood, but he doesn’t have an opportunity to tell Oliver.
Solo #17:
a. Laurel notices that his wrist hurts while he’s writing and another spasm goes through his body. He stops writing and goes to bed early.
Solo #18:
a. Laurel hasn’t mentioned the spasms to anyone and his second journal has gone missing. He ends up finding it ripped apart in the trash. He decides against buying a new one.
b. Oliver notices him looking worried and asks if he’s alright. Laurel dodges the opportunity to speak and lies.
Solo #19:
a. The pain is getting worse and it’s affecting Laurel’s ability to do things he enjoys. It also makes eating difficult and he notices that he looks skinny. He decides his body knows best and forces himself to rest more.
Solo #20:
a. Resting hasn’t helped and neither has anything else Laurel has tried. He realizes he hasn’t left the house in a few days and pushes himself to take a day trip for some fresh air.
Rp #2: Laurel/Pohl - Laurel meets Pohl while out and has to push himself through the pain so he doesn’t worry his new friend.
Solo #21:
a. Laurel is heading home and realizes that he’s moving extremely slow. He considers calling Lab about it, but decides against it so Oliver won’t worry. He’s suddenly struck by a rock and he sees Sherwood heading straight for him.
b. Sherwood harasses Laurel about his outing. He accuses Laurel of trying to squeal on him and corners Laurel against a tree.
c. Sherwood reveals that he’s the one who destroyed Laurel’s journals and tells him that there will be consequences if Laurel tries to talk to anyone about what he thinks is going on. Laurel is left cowering in the woods.
Solo #22:
a. Oliver realizes Laurel isn’t home after dark and believes a lie from Sherwood that Laurel had gone out that afternoon and hadn’t come back. He sets out to find him.
Solo #23:
a. The pain has pinned Laurel to the ground. His body goes into starvation mode and starts pulling from his environment. A tree collapses on top of Laurel.
Solo #24:
a. Laurel “wakes up” in a place similar to his recurring nightmares. He starts to freak out when he can’t wake himself up and Judgment appears.
b. Judgement berates Laurel for being careless about his health. They argue and Laurel eventually accepts that he had failed himself and promises to never let this happen again.
c. Laurel is sent back to his body. Oliver has driven him to the hospital. He passes out.
Solo #25:
a. Laurel has a broken left arm and his neck in a cone. Oliver asks him if he can remember what happened.
b. Laurel explains that Sherwood had left him in the woods. Oliver doubts him. Laurel gets emotional and divulges everything Sherwood had done.
c. Oliver is shocked and doubts Laurel again, which makes Laurel so upset that he says he isn’t safe and will go back to Lab if Sherwood isn’t gone.
d. They argue a bit more, ending with Oliver leaving solemnly and Laurel refusing to say he loves him.
Solo #26:
a. Oliver finds Sherwood acting suspicious when he returns home and asks him to speak with him privately.
b. Oliver asks Sherwood for the truth. Sherwood tries to lie his way out and fails.
c. The rest of Laurel’s accusations are brought up and Sherwood realizes he can no longer get away with lying. He threatens Oliver as he’s kicked out.
Solo #27:
a. Laurel is doubting that he’s done the right thing by making an ultimatum to his father. He feels like he made things worse. A nurse informs him of a visitor.
b. Thatcher arrives and sits with Laurel. Laurel is still on edge with anxiety and doubt. They sit in silence for a bit.
c. Laurel eventually can’t take the silence and unravels into an emotional rant about everything that has happened. He cries about how he thinks he’s a monster for not grieving and how he must not be a real member of the family.
d. Thatcher is able to put everything that Laurel is worried about to rest. He assures Laurel that everything is fine and Sherwood’s lies had been discovered and he’d been kicked out. Laurel is relieved.
Solo #28:
a. Oliver and Laurel are driving home from the hospital. They reconcile everything that Laurel said and Oliver accepts that he might be a pushover. Laurel is thankful that they can put this all behind them.
b. Oliver slams on the breaks as they turn onto a one lane road and find Sherwood’s car waiting for them. He dodges into the woods just before Sherwood tries to slam into them but is knocked out. Laurel leaves the car to confront Sherwood.
Solo #29:
a. Sherwood taunts Laurel and explains that his grand scheme was to steal his brother’s identity and leave the country with his life savings. He’s not going to leave until he’s sure Oliver, and Laurel, are out of his way.
b. Laurel realizes how dire the situation is. He knows that stopping a car with his strength alone is an impossible task, but recalls stopping the shelf and his body pulling weight from his environment in desperation. He places his right hand to the ground and focuses on pulling as much weight as he can into himself as Sherwood slams on the accelerator.
Solo #30:
a. Laurel leaps and throws himself down onto the hood of Sherwood’s car. He presses as much weight as he’s gathered into it, feeding it all the way into the engine. The car shudders to a halt just before impact and Sherwood flees.
b. Laurel purses Sherwood through the woods. A red glow envelopes him as he runs and disappears when he tackles Sherwood to the ground. He leaves Sherwood knocked out.
c. Laurel focuses on getting Oliver safely out of the car and to the main road. He grabs his phone from his sweatshirt and realizes he’s grown. He calls 911, having no time to celebrate.
Will there be more Laurel????? More KIPLING NONSENSE???:
Check my Tumblr if you know it exists. I have tags for Laurel and some of his fam. Also the story above/below changes drastically from the one here and Laurel changes to fit a species I made up. Do I ever plan on writing it? No. Do I daydream about the AU constantly despite that fact? Yes.
Bo, I need more deets about this family:
- JUDGEMENT WASN'T REALLY WHO GAVE LAUREL HIS FEATHERS AND THAT WAS GOING TO BE SO HUGE LATER ON. I'd need to dig for old notes as to who and how and what, but Judgement knows who really gave Laurel his feathers and secretly wants to fight Laurel straight into the ground. - Laurel was going to grow like... Giant wings, lose them, grow them again, and just keep doing that until they stop growing and become permanent. - Laurel was also going to know so many Gods and have difficulties with them. I can't elaborate more than that. - Thatcher isn't really Thatcher. Laurel knows this because of his past life but can't articulate it. The real Thatcher was used in a ritual by a cult and is tied to a chair in a basement somewhere. The fake Thatcher is using a glamor to cover his face and Oliver is none the wiser. - They find him, but Sigel!Laurel... Uh... Gets pretty badly injured because magic and traps. - Also there's a dead man in the lake and his name is ALSO Oliver. He's Laurel's great-grandfather and he was a big important wizard man teaching Oliver magic until some bad things happened and Oliver doesn't remember anything about it. - The same great-grandfather gets resurrected after they find the real Thatcher and Oliver remembers everything that happened. He also quits his job and starts doing what he really wanted to do all along, teaching magic. Thomas is a huge help with this and that's how they get together. - Devin was going to be a huge jerk at some point and Laurel was going to learn to stop trusting him. Devin then gets kidnapped by fake Thatcher and Laurel gets shot and then Devin's like "Oh s**t maybe I do love this stupid floating cat" and starts to care. Laurel absolutely refuses to trust him though for like... ages and when things finally get better for them it stays. - Were Rose Marie and Peter really killed by a drunk driver? Who was Elizabeth? Where's Arthur Allenson? Why does Thomas exist? (Yes, evil cult lady, working with Elizabeth to try and kidnap someone in a later arc, to marry Oliver and bring Titus into existence, in that order) - Sherwood gets a redemption arc and turns out to have some serious trauma which is why he spiraled after Rose Marie died. Laurel ends up forgiving him and they become close. - And Barrel the cat is Oliver's old familiar and he's pretty irritated that no one in this f-king family is doing magic anymore which is why he keeps shoving the wand at Laurel. Eventually this is understood and Laurel stops freaking out whenever the wand appears. - The Laurel Tree book and the wand were gonna be a thing and Laurel was gonna make a wish and you know I never got further than that. - I admit that this entire thing was a massive clusterfrick but that's what AUs are for and one day Laurel and his family will have new life in my own universe. Just not today or this year, probably.
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