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 Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 10:45 am
Prompt While making your way through Destiny City, you wind up taking a path you’ve never taken before. Maybe you’re following directions, maybe you got lost, maybe you were just looking for a shortcut—things were going good, until you wind up needing to pass through a graveyard. It seems normal enough—until you pass by a grave and get powerful chill down your spine. When you stop and look at it, you see the gravestone has your name; beneath it, your birthday and today’s date. If you leave and return, the gravestone remains, but the name and dates look like they’ve been clawed off. with the n** in the air it was a bit hard to believe that October was nearly over. The witching month was almost done. In just a few short day’s Halloween would be upon the city and civilians would be swarming the streets in outfits that rivaled the magical warriors who patrolled, or stalked depending on who you ask, Destany City. Halloween had a different meaning for Quinn though. It was an anniversary of sorts. Four years ago on All Hallows Eve he had been chased down by a hellhound looking youma, joined the ranks of the butt bows as a knight, and promptly got his a** saved by three little girls. Overall it was a bad night for him. Now whenever Halloween rolled around he started to get a little antsy. Something was bound to happen. Something bad. It was inevitable. Destined, fated, foreordained, unavoidable even. And that's why he went out of his way this year to avoid any and every cemetery in the entire damn city ever since the clock changed from September 30 to October 1. So how exactly had he found himself standing just on the outside of a cemetery gate just as full darkness fell? One that he knew quite well? One that he seemed to find himself back at at least once a year as if he was making sure no more hellhounds showed up? That was easy… someone ‘upstairs’ was ******** with him. He had been heading home, well over to his folks place because he had reports he needed to pass his dad and his mother wanted them all to have dinner together. It was a typical day, nothing to suspect otherwise. He even got chased out of his office by staff when it was clear he wasn’t going to be ending anytime soon, a standing order by his father to prevent Quinn from overworking himself nearly to death… again. So he was driving over to his folks when he got detoured, literally, by construction then by an accident. To save time he turned on his gps and started to follow it not really familiar with the roads it was taking him. Then, with one last ‘F-you’ his rear tire blew out. Quinn was able to get the limping car off to the side in some quiet part of the city and found that his car only had a ‘fix a flat’ can which wouldn’t help his tire, since he had no way of putting air in it. Calling for help was not an option because he had come to realize he had left his phone back in the office. After a bit of hoofing it to find a phone and passing building after building of darkness he came upon the cemetery gate. In the distance he could see the dim glow of a light, either from the grounds keeper or from houses on the other side of the graveyard. Either way, it didn’t matter. He would have to cross this cursed place if he wanted to get to a phone. Damn it all to hell!
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Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 11:51 am
Elex knew the way to his brother's chosen gastropub — or he thought he did. His cell phone's dim screen displayed little blue dots that he followed religiously, never deviating, even as it led him down unfamiliar paths and through unwelcoming alleys. But Elex felt no danger beneath his second skin; he felt little more than the chill of autumn air as it settled like a pall over the city. He burrowed into his warm coat, both thankful for it and intrigued by his sudden sensitivity to the chill in the air. His hands felt tight, his clothes tighter. Glamour supplied him with a dissonant experience.
Another turn, another grim alley crossed. The buildings parted like trees, offering a cobbled path through a grassy clearing. Mature trees specled the area and shaded further sight of the large gates beyond. Elex looked ahead, then back on his screen — the display remained steadfast that he should cross it. Unease settled within him, and he paused to search for auras not found by not-black hands and not-black eyes. Blind, he felt. Blind and powerless.
Elex followed the path with growing distrust. Age-chipped flagstone bore him further and further, where the trees thickened and great black fences rose up in sharp opposition. The gates stood open with their padlocks impaled on their spikes. He passed them, his soft hands thrumming against the unevenly-spaced bars. And in crossing the threshold, the space felt somehow colder — older. A vague, ancient, basic wrongness made its home here, and coiled up mists about itself in creature comfort. The sun peered so wanly into its space. The breeze once livening the day chose to skirt the area altogether. And while Elex felt chilled by the autumn weather, sweat sheathed his body.
Closing his navigation app, Elex touched to life his phone's flashlight. As darkness grew, he peered about sulking gravestones in passing. Noise alerted him suddenly, and in the distance beyond breaking branches and clawing brambles, he spotted a figure bathed in dying light. The sunset caught him so, just beyond the treeline's reaching shadows. Elex paused with his phone angled downward. That's the Quinton boy. I'd know him anywhere.
He vanished from the city for a time. Erol said it was drinking. Mother cited drugs — she was sure of it. She said his coming back and working to death was proof of it. 'Cocaine, or that dreadful methamphetine' as if one was somehow lesser. What's he doing here now? Doesn't he have a company to help run?
Doesn't he have a society structure to abide?
"I know you," he called across the rows of gravestones. "You're Arthur Quinton, heir to James Quinton." And you're looking just as lost as I am.
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Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 1:44 pm
Quinn didn’t want to cross the border of the graveyard marked by the black fence but he didn’t have a choice. Not really. Yeah he could keep walking but in this city it was suicide the deeper the night went. He could have powered up and roof hop but Quinn balked at that idea, not when the tempting glow of life was so close. Going about as a Knight opened its own can of worms so with taking a deep breath he crossed the boundary, taking a step in the damn graveyard. Almost immediately he regretted his decision when a bone deep foreboding seemed to seep into him as he surveyed row after row of headstones, grave markers, marble angels and crosses, and even moslems in the distance. A cold sweat made its way down his spine, shivers reversing his frame even in the expensive and tailored work jacket he still wore. If he wasn’t freaked out of his mind it would have done just fine against the weather but this particular cemetery gave him nightmares. He had been to space, he had fought numerous monsters, knocked on death’s door several times, had even been to hell and back… well to the negaverse and back if one must be technical. But this place, this place gave him the heebeegeebees. The sudden voice made the young man start, nearly yelping in fear. With a muttered curse and a racing heart moss green eyes raked the darkness, quickly picking up the other guy standing in the rapidly deepening shadows of the cemetery. “Jesus Christ man. You scared the living daylights out of me.” Quinn had to take a few calming breaths before he started towards the other young man. Nervously the still suited up young man ran his fingers through his hair, completely messing up what ever style the sandy blond locks still had after a day of work. “Yeah thats right but most people call me Quinn. Arthur was my grandfather.” His eyes sharpened when he spotted the light bathing the ground. “Hey, is that a cellphone? Think I could borrow it for a minute, my car blew a tire a few blocks back and my dumb a** left my phone at work. I was heading that way,” he pointed towards the dim glow of someone’s house across the cemetery, “but if you don’t mind it would save me a trip.” And hopefully get me the hell out of here faster, he silently added.
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Posted: Tue Oct 17, 2017 3:03 pm
Elex shivered as he wrapped his coat tighter about himself. The double breast felt too tight to insulate properly against the cold. Was it his imagination? It didn't matter, he reminded himself. Three precious hours and time slipped too quickly for him to gather it in slight hands.
He spooked the other figure, perhaps unsurprisingly. Atmosphere aside, Elex had that effect on people of late. Wordlessly he approached the Quinton boy. Slow, careful steps searched for upturned roots and unstable loam in the trail across the graveyard. His cell phone's meager light swung to and fro as it hunted for obstacles. A tomb, long and covered in alabaster marble, threatened the unwary onlooker. A vase of withered flowers begged to be kicked over and finished off. His phone swept left — he found headstone backs of varying sizes, some toppled and crawling into the ground over a count of years. His phone swung right — he saw a number of names and dates, some unfortunate in their meager differentials between birth and death. One was but fifteen —
ELEX YORKE
APRIL 30 2001 - APRIL 23 2017
His breath caught, his surprise and anger and bitter grief closing a thousand hands over his throat. Their weight settled in his chest, pulling his bones down. Wracking his soul. Lips trembled. He bit back his anguish. The roil of blackened hate rolled its steady waves through his mind. His mother went through with it. His mother finally went through with it — exactly as Erol said. She had that closed casket funeral, even knowing he was still alive —
Elex swallowed hard, blinked awawy the film of tears, and closed the distance between them. Glass lodged in his throat, cutting words before they found voice. He shut off the light app on his phone and found the dial screen. At arm's length, he offered the phone to the other boy — the one with a family and a future and a reason to move out of such a dismal graveyard. A reason to call for a tow. A reason to move on, head held high — a reason to quit thinking. To live by impulse. To feel, to fight, to flee.
Elex didn't know how to have a life anymore. His mother wrenched it from him with her calculated, cloying claws.
"Here," he muttered gently, just cresting the ghosts of the wind.
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Posted: Wed Oct 18, 2017 7:32 pm
Quinn took care as he entered deeper into the cemetery heading to the other male, it wouldn’t do to trip over someone’s headstone… or step on a new grave. His luck was bad enough when it came to this place. He wasn’t completely oblivious to the pain that seemed to roll off the shorter guy as he stared down at a headstone. It was tempting to say something like ‘it will be ok’, or ‘it's ok to be sad’ or something else equally stupid. He didn’t know the guy, although he seemed familiar somehow, even the name that he barely made out before the other turned off the light wasn’t one he recognized. It wasn’t his place to say something so he didn’t, at least nothing other than a murmured ‘thanks’ as he took the offered phone and stepped just a bit away to give the guy some space for his grief. The call didn’t take long. It took longer for him to capitulate to his mother and agree to wait there for a ride. Quinn honestly wanted to head back to his car and wait for the tow truck but his mom wouldn’t hear of it so now he would have to wait in the creepy a** cemetary for the family driver to come pick him up. At least he wasn’t alone. Flicking back on the flashlight Quinn shined the light on the ground as he took the few steps back towards the other guy freezing when the light illuminated the carved stone headstone he was passing. It bared his name and birthday! The hell! To make it worse was the ‘death date’ was that day! He felt a chill rack his body and a sense of danger creep into his soul. That old saying of ‘someone walking on a grave’ took on a new meaning right then for Quinn. He was literally standing on his own grave. Talk about ******** up! This was some twisted a** joke right? There was no reason for this to be here. For it to have his information on it. For God’s sake the ground he was standing on was green… not a dirt mound it should be if it was a new grave. Unable to stand here looking at the messed up ‘joke’, it had to be because Quinn couldn’t take it right now if it wasn’t, he hurried back to the other guy. “Um, thanks. I’ve got a ride coming, they will be here in like twenty minutes. If you want I can give you a lift somewhere.” He passed the phone back with the offer of a ride even as his eyes raked the cemetery looking for anything and everything that was out of place. ‘His’ gravestone spooked him a hell of a lot more than he cared to admit. He wanted to get the hell out of there.
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Posted: Thu Oct 19, 2017 12:25 pm
Elex waited in the silent graveyard while the other youth wandered with his phone. He held a poor understanding of the distance made when a graveyard this silent still left him privy to the conversation. An address given, a car described, the diagnosis made. He heard it all, even as his thoughts spun inevitably toward his grave marker. Why had his mother committed such a sin against him, when she knew? When she heard his voice, terribly and irrevocably and undeniably his, come through the phone?
As his eyes adjusted to the darkness, Elex looked toward the grave once more. He peered against dim lighting to make out the familiar, elegant scrawl of his name. He found only deep ruts gouging the expensive marble, slashing out a name better forgotten. Was the lot of it only a trick of his own mind? His jaw tightened, he breathed a needful sigh through his narrow nose. It didn't matter. The markings vanished. he could breathe. He could question his brother over it when the pair met once again — if they met, given the graveyard's murky atmosphere. He couldn't rely on his own sense of direction here if his cell phone dropped signal.
Even half-youma are powerless here.
Elex spotted the returning figure and banished hte thought. Arms dropped from around his sides. He accepted his phone's return with a delicate grip. The number listed in its history looked like an 800 humber. Shaking away his concerns, he pocketed the device.
A ride. Do you always pick up boys at graveyards? My mother would have something to say about this. Elex regarded the other man with a thin, cryptic smile, and nodded his ascent. The woods clawed at them anyway. Destiny City's eerie magic caught hold of them here, in this liminal space, and threatened them with realities unreal and images unseen. Ever second spent lingering left him unsettled. He'd take his chances with a high-profile celebrity like Quinn. "Okay. I'm supposed to meet my brother at the food truck park.
"Show me to your car?" Elex looked to him, his eyes a margin too bright, his legs twitching their own rhythm in the evening chill.
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Posted: Sat Oct 21, 2017 5:25 am
Antsy after seeing his own headstone, and hoping that he was just mistaken, Quinn did his best to calm himself but ended up rambling a bit, “Well actually they are coming to pick us up here. Apparently it's closer and it's just easier to go from here then from there. It will take like twenty minutes for Peter to make it here however so…” Realizing that he was more or less talking to fill the eery silence Quinn trailed off and stood there for an awkward moment. He really didn’t want to just stand here without talking and let the darkness smother them. “So, um, anyway I just saw the strangest thing over there,” He pointed over a few rows where he had stumbled upon someone with his exact name, it was the only logical explanation. “Apparently they just installed a head stone for someone with my name on it. What are the odds right?” The young man chuckled nervously, finding it difficult to shake the chill that still ran up and down his back. Man, when people say that they feel as if someone stepped on their grave, Quinn never thought he would be able to relate. “You have got to see,” and make sure I’m not going crazy he silently added as he started to carefully navigate the darkness his eyes were slowly adjusting too again after the bright light of the phone flashlight. If the other guy- Quinn stopped suddenly and turned back towards the shorter male. “I never did get your name. My manners are horrible. Arthur Quinton, Quinn. Nice to meet you and thanks for the use of the phone.” He stuck out his hand for a shake as he actually introduced himself this time. He couldn’t mentally keep calling him ‘that guy or him’ for the rest of the night. Besides, focusing on the mundane like introductions and general pleasantries meant he could ignore the sheer desire to get the ******** out of there.
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Posted: Sun Oct 22, 2017 11:47 am
"So we're just going to wait around in this graveyard?" Elex shot him an incredulous glance. Even if the boy believed not at all in the supernatural, Destiny City still fostered a host of hooligans ready to assault the vulnerable. And as two boys isolated in a dark graveyard, they qualified as vulnerable. Surely Quinn needed no firsthand experience to comprehend that. And Elex himself loathed the idea of a youma assault or energy drain by one of his unwitting allies.
But the man blathered on, oblivious to the precarity of their situation. At least move to the road. Samaritans will look out for us. Elex followed nonetheless; he heard Quinn's words and the flippancy in his tone. In part, he wanted to strike the other boy for his foolishness; how could he stay so frustratingly obtuse to Destiny City's magical influences, even when confronted by one firsthand? 'Arthur Quinton' seldom appeared in phone books. The name smacked of decades long past. Yet here he chose to pass a grave marker off as sheer coincidence — as serendipity at its finest. Elex sighed, his arms finding purchase over his chest. "Are you sure it wasn't your grandfather's headstone?" If Quinn was determined to play dense, then Elex would indulge it for guarantee of an easy draining target later.
Elex followed as bidden. His phone light darted about the moss-laden stones and the newly-hewn marble alike. Not once in the maze of headstones had he seen an Arthur Quinton. Was it related to his own brush with headstones earlier? Perhaps the graveyard itself bespoke enchantment.
"I didn't gve it," Elex clarified about his name. "Mother always warns me to be cautious. I'm sure you understand." When your name becomes synonymous with opulence, it becomes synonymous with target. "Elex Yorke." As he finished, he stepped over the soft loam of a fresh grave. His flashlight danced in its direction, finding no clear epitaph — and no name beyond a few gouges in the material.
I wonder if that was his.
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2017 5:32 am
“Well outside the gate but yeah. I had to leave the car in a kinda empty spot, at least here there are people around. And I don't mean the dead.” His smile was strained, like his joke, as he carefully made his way back towards ‘his’ stone. “It can't be my grandfather’s his is-” Quinn stopped abruptly when they reached a gouged out headstone. Claw marks marring the new marble of the stone, obscuring the epitaph, destroying the name, hiding the date. This was the right stone… the two bordering it were the same. But it was gone. Between the few moments he saw it and getting back to it the stone had been defaced… by claws that were strong enough to dig into marble like fingers in sand. Ice clogged his veins and he immediately raked the graveyard with his eyes. He itched to power up. At least as a knight he was stronger and faster in the off chance something happened. But he couldn't. Now with the guy standing right next to him. “You know what? Never mind. I just misread it. Let's get out of here!” He turned away from the stone and gestured towards the gate, practically herding the poor man towards the exit. “Elex? Now that's a neat name. I feel like I've heard it before, it's not really one someone would forget.” His rambling got worse as he felt like their progress was being followed, someone or something was watching them and it wasn't in a good way. “You know Elex. You had a really good point. The car might be a bit of a walk but it can't be any worse than hanging outside of a cemetery. Am I right?” Quinn knew this place was twisted by some messed up magic. Why the hell did he ever step foot onto its cursed grounds?
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Posted: Fri Oct 27, 2017 11:36 am
Your jokes are awful and you have no charm. That must be why we haven't heard of a marriage in the Quinton family. Elex followed silently, his comments carefully guarded and his paranoia held close. The ground spread atrocity in every step - imagined blood pooling from deep footsteps, imagined creatures jutting from unfilled holes. He disliked speaking in such a place where sonance gave them away — yet Quinn found comfort in it. Quinn's motormouth allayed his nerves enough that he could navigate the place. An extrovert if I've ever seen one. Who do you talk to when you spend your nights alone?
Again, they found a defaced stone. Quinn gawked at it liberally, his gaze talking abject fright for how it crawled over the tombstone. Elex waved his light over the gouged epitaph. "I believe you," he offered, his voice hardly above a whisper. He also found no reason to stick around — Elex picked up a jog to stay with the man as he powerwalked in the direction from whence he came. Or Elex assumed so; with much of the entrances looking the same, he knew not where he had entered either.
A thought came to mind as they angled for a gate — what if they couldn't leave? What if, by passing under the great wrought-iron spikes, they simply looped back into the graveyard?
While Quinn spat anxiety in the form of his name, Elex took silence as his confidant. Answering his ramblings about his name drew more attention to it, and since Quinn already mentioned its familiarity, Elex loathed the line of thought. If he rambles for nerves, he'll find another topic. These types never run short of things to say. He chanced a look askance and found no signs of a third entity, though his hair bristled and gooseflesh rose from his skin. Just stop talking. You're going to get us murdered.
Elex couldn't restrain his brewing frustrations with the heir. "If my point was so good, then be quiet and just run." We're both scared — and it's obvious. It's written in the way we hold ourselves. In the way you talk yourself to the ends of the earth. Stop playing games and go. Elex picked up his own pace into a full run, flashlight held as steady as he could.
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Posted: Sun Oct 29, 2017 4:59 am
Quinn took Elex’s suggestion to heart and booked it out of the cemetery on the other male’s heels. Of all the nights to have his car crap out on him and forgetting his cellphone at work! Although to be honest any night in this particular resting ground was bad but this close to the witching night?.... ******** NO! It was a bad idea. It was a horrible idea. It was a Titanic sized disaster as far as Quinn was concerned. He didn’t breathe easily until they had both crossed the invisible line that marked the entrance of the graveyard, the gates still stood open behind them but standing there on the sidewalk it felt like the wrought-iron slammed shut, locking in all the danger. Even in the dim and flickering light of a distant street lamp it felt safer than the cemetery. His laughter was a bit strained at first but quickly relaxed into genuine mirth. “Oh man… I don’t know what it is but graveyards at night can really max out the creepy scale,” Quinn remarked as he quickly got his breath back. He wasn’t certain anymore that he had actually read his name on the headstone. He probably was just mistaken and accidently found another stone when he went back to show Elex. Either way it didn’t matter, they were out of there. He still didn’t want to hang around though, just on the off chance he was wrong. “Anyway, my car is a few blocks that way.” He pointed away into the darken streets but hadn’t gotten a chance to go more than a few steps away from the graveyard entrance before a sparkling black Bentley pulled up to the curb and turned off. “Sir?” A well dressed older man quickly exited the driver’s seat and approached the younger men. “Peter. This is Elex Yorke, Elex this is Peter Saola. Elex was kind enough to let me borrow his phone.” Quinn quickly introduced his companion. It didn’t take long to explain everything, well not everything since he left out the strangeness that was the graveyard, and before the night got any longer both Quinn and Elex were ensconced on the plush back seats of the shiny car heading towards the food truck park. Quinn only looked back once, his heart stuttering for a moment when he thought he saw a pair of glowing red eyes stared at them from the darkness of the cemetery. Maybe he wasn’t as mistaken as he had hoped.
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