[M4] Apogee (Shiloh)

[shibrogane]

Michael waits for Shiloh in a Denny's parking lot, the holder of a long, long leash drawing Shiloh in from the glade at Waite State. There are lurid bruises about his neck. His green eyes are unblinking. In the shadow of the Denny's, leaning against the wall, is a stranger. Their shape gives no hints as to even their gender, their age: their skin, where it's lit by the glow of a cigarette, is a warm mahogany brown.

"Hello," says Michael, hoarsely. He coughs, loud, hacking, painful. "Inheritor."

Melancholies

saedusk

 

[Melancholies]

It's a long walk from the glen, but after what Shiloh's been through he's sure he can make it through anything.

The metaphorical leash on his wrist though, that's a new one, but it's better than being sucked into Otherworld and forced into a goddamn doll dress. Question was; did he say anything? Did he mention it? He just wanted to go home, lay in bed with Jamie and sleep this whole debacle off. God knew it couldn't be that easy.

But at least their world was fresh and the air tasted clean.

They walked Oliver home first, because—and he felt so terrible, but—he didn't need any more magic, not right now, not right now. Whatever this was? They could... they could talk about it later, but right now Oliver was wobbling between his boundaries of mental soundness and they could afford to wait a few breaths.

"I have no idea where this is leading us." he tells Jamie, who's hand he had grabbed somewhere between here and there. His eyes gloss over the stone for a second, but then he keeps walking, tired and groggy. The flowers don't bloom. When he sees the Denny's sign coming up in the distance, he has to keep himself from pausing. This was where Sunny and him...

He squeezed Jamie's hand. "Well go home soon," he promised him, ready to summon forward any and every ounce of fight he had left if he had to. When he sees Micheal there, he isn't sure what to say.

"The ********> is all he really says in response to the dead-man-walking in front of him.

shibrogane

saedusk

 

[shibrogane]

"Yeah, I don't know," says Michael. "Sometimes magic has its own ideas. And by 'ideas' I mean 'words to put in your mouth'."

Michael holds out a hand to Shiloh to shake. "But you took over the sigil, and now you're taking my place, eh? So..." He shrugs a shoulder. "It's polite to pass off stuff like this in person. I mean, I don't know, I've never done this before and I don't think you're going to have to create a global police force or become a werewolf..."

He pauses. The stranger laughs, one ha! that cuts off suddenly, sharply.

Melancholies

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

When Shiloh told Jamie about the feeling, there was hardly a question of whether or not he'd join him where he went. As much as he wanted to go home, shower—maybe, if he managed to work up the gumption to—and sleep. Instead they were heading somewhere neither of them knew, his right hand in Shiloh's and his left carefully clutching the stone. It had managed to make it out of the void with them, after all.

"It's okay," he told Shiloh, squeezing back. "We'll stay out as long as we have to." There wouldn't be a repeat of the noble incident. His best friend wouldn't walk away alone and disappear to a place Jamie couldn't reach him. Maybe it was a selfish notion, but all he wanted to do was protect him. Even if they considered themselves equals, he could only hope he actually had the strength to be of some help.

Wasn't that part of what being a moonwalker was about?

The thought was poignant. Standing in front of them, looking about as dead as someone standing could be, was Michael. Jamie's grip grew tight around Shiloh's hand again. "It's... but how?" he whispered, but before he could say anything else, Michael was speaking again. His attention was solely on Shiloh and Jamie felt the questions he had dry up in his throat as he stood by awkwardly, heart squeezing in his chest.

Melancholies

shibrogane

 

[Melancholies]

"I—Wait, what?" He looked to the stranger when they laugh, and then down to Micheal's hand. He looks to Jamie at the mention of becoming a werewold.

"I-I, uh... yeah, aha," the laugh was nervous, awkward, teetering on panic (and he would surely fall over that edge if not for his exhaustion), "Skipped over the whole werewolf thing, got dumped straight into that Court bullshit instead. Not sure which one is worst..." he finally—though reluctantly—shook Micheal's hand.

"'Course I guess he's got the were part covered..." his head tilted over to Jamie, and for a moment he let his awkwardness melt into something a little more awkward and solemn.

"Aren't you dead though? How the ******** are you even here..." Course, he guessed stranger things had happened. He let go of Micheal's hand, rubbed the corner of his eye. "What does that even mean?" He put everything into the sigil—acted with intent like he was told—but being an actual part of it...?

His stomach flipped.

shibrogane

saedusk

 

[shibrogane]

"Yeaaaah," says Michael. "I don't think any of us intended for that to happen."

That's kind of an apology???

"They brought me," he says, pointing to the stranger. "Basically, you're part of the magic keeping our ******** in control now. Like, everyone who contributed contributed, their intent and desire mattered, but you--for some reason the magic liked you and locked onto you. It picked you. And your desires made..." He waves, encompassing the early-morning Dennys and the sky and the everything around them. "All this. So. Good job on shaping the world."

He looks at Jamie. "Sorry I didn't get to help you more," he says, apologetic. "I wanted to."

"I gotta go, though," he says. "Sonny'll help you if you need anything."

Sonny?

They stub out their cigarette on the fakey stucco of the Denny's wall and come forward. "Hi," they say. "At your service."

Melancholies

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

"O-Oh, um..." Jamie wasn't sure what to say in response to the apology, not really. It would've been nice to have a mentor, to feel like his pack hadn't been thrown into the fray without any knowledge of who they were or what they'd become, but he'd never blamed Michael. How could he? "It's... okay," he eventually muttered, "Thank you... I think we'll be okay."

It was difficult, but he smiled and said, "B-Bye, Michael."

As he looked between Shiloh and Sonny now, his lips drew into a thin line. First Shiloh had been saddled with the responsibility of a noble and now this. Jamie only hoped it meant good things and not bad. If anyone tried to ******** with him... He huffed; Shiloh would feel another tight, protective squeeze of his hand.

Melancholies

shibrogane

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh's expression looked a little blank, like he was trying to process this, and then his brows furrowed in something that looked like anger. Maybe frustration? He remembered his words to Oliver and Jamie back in the void—the magic picked them. They didn't pick the magic. Jamie didn't pick becoming a Moonwalker and Shiloh didn't pick becoming a Noble and Ollie didn't pick his connection to Otherworld... but they were still here.

And now he'd been picked again, but by the sigil.

Would people try to kill him now? If he died, would all their hard work fall apart? He took a deep breath as he tried to mull through it all. He looked to sky as dawn continued to break through the clouds. It was beautiful. This was their world.

But... still.

"It wasn't your fault..." he consoled Micheal, because it honestly wasn't. He thought he was doing a good thing by pushing him back into the void, but... that didn't make it their fault either. Nobody knew. It was always their ignorance that brought these things to light.

Except then Sonny steps up and his concentration breaks.

"You have to go? But—wait, Sunny?" his expression is a little incredulous. She doesn't look the same—not when he first met her, and not how she looked back before they fell into the void. "Are you okay? Did we fix it? Are we—"

He paused, and then looked up to the Denny's sign. It didn't flicker.

"Wait." something glittered in his eyes, "Are we gonna fight?" he was squeezing onto Jamie's hand really tightly now, rocking back and forth on his feet.

shibrogane

saedusk

 

[shibrogane]

Her eyes glitter queerly. "D'you want to?" Sonny's accent is the same. "'Cause I could use a good fight."

Melancholies

saedusk

 

[saedusk]

Hold on, Jamie's mind said, trying to catch up. From Shiloh to Sonny and back to Shiloh, his eyes were wide and tired. They were the only ones without a glitter.

"Shiloh..." he mumbled, torn about saying anything at all. It felt a lot like he wasn't supposed to be here, like he was intruding.

His own grip on Shiloh's hand loosened and after a moment he wiggled his fingers free. Even if it was just a friendly scrap, Jamie didn't want Shiloh to get hurt. It was difficult for him to understand this sort of communication, but did that mean he had a right to interfere with whatever his best friend wanted to do? He was too tired to look for the answer right now.

"Just... be careful," was all he said, sounding torn between exasperated and an attempt at lighthearted understanding. Moving away, he planted himself against the Denny's wall.

Melancholies

shibrogane

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh's head snapped to the side when Jamie spoke, tired and saddled. Despite the eventually go-ahead, he felt somewhat guilty in the back of his head, watching as his friend wobbled over to the wall for a seat. This probably wasn't the best time for fighting.

Then again, when was Shiloh ever full of good ideas?

He rolled his sleeves up, "Duh," his voice was casual, but exhaustion. Even his movements seemed stiff, but it didn't seem to stop him too much. "Might not be good though. I'm real ********' tired. Plus, I gotta get him home." he cocked his head back towards Jamie in a jerky motion.

"So let's make this quick. One throw. You. Me." he might be inclined to drag it out longer had Jamie not been there, but the last thing he wanted was to let his friend watch him get his a** handed to him. "You game, Ace?" His fists went up in front of his face protectively, stance shifting his weight around.

saedusk

sorry bb

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Sonny says, "Two hits--I hit you, you hit the ground."

But they laugh as they say it. "Come get me."

Melancholies

saedusk

 

[Melancholies]

Shiloh absolutely gawks, except then he laughs too, the sound short and harsh and amused. He cracks his knuckles for good measure. "So long as you actually hit me this time." Because that was what most of this was; leveling the playing field, making them even, fulfilling a promise...

Communicating.

Because despite the rush that started to bloom on his face, he was ******** terrified of what being part of the magic even ******** meant. Was he destined to die like the last three were? Would he actually get any explanation into what the ******** he was supposed to be doing this time, unlike when he became nobility? Probably not.

He stepped forward, threw his fist forward with a visceral punch. He thought about his own insecurities—his shortcomings, his inability to protect the people he cared about, his weaknesses, his lack of direction.

But in the same breath he thought about the sunrise, and his humanity, and the flowers in his blood. He thought about Jamie and Oliver and the three who had died and the ones still remaining; he thought about being a survivor. Don't let me down, he seemed to think.

shibrogane

 

[shibrogane]

Sonny doesn't pull their punch. Shiloh gets in a good hit, but so do they: right in the jaw. Unlike last time, this time Sonny half-collapses, cradling their face in their hand. "Ow," they say, and they laugh, watery-like. "Did I get you hard enough?"

Melancholies

 

[Melancholies]

Everything feels like it's upside down, and then Shiloh's vision goes in half of his face, and it takes him a long second to realize it's because there's flowers sprouting out of soon-to-form bruise and not because Sonny just clobbered his vision right out of his skull. It's nauseating. It's great. The pain is real and it's burning in his jaw and he's mirroring Sonny; face held, a sharp sound escaping that sounds like breathless laughter. It's an adrenaline rush.

"Hurts like a ******** b***h," he wheezes, but he produces a semi-swollen smile regardless, "Ain't dead though, so take that." His hand is still nursing his jaw, but he seems lighter. Better. "Didn't hit the floor neither."

It still wasn't a real fight, but it was good enough. He wasn't up for a full fledged brawl anyway. After a moment of licking his proverbial wounds, he walked back over, offering his hand out for a high five.

"'Nyway, sup with you?" he tilts his head, "You hardly flinched last time!" truth is, he isn't at all bothered with the display of pain. He's never seen them so human—it's a stark difference to the Sunny he knew. He shakes his head, his question rhetorical, not needed an answer.

"So you gotta tell me—the ******** happens now? People gonna come try'n kill me? Do I gotta chain myself to some magic place in the Otherworld woods?" It was half joking, half not.

shibrogane

ovo