[spoiler]
<div align="justify]Remy had a smile like a jack-o-lantern, all grins and sneers. Tish hadn't asked him how someone his age could be missing so many teeth, but she did spend far too much time staring at his mouth. If he noticed, he didn't feel it necessary to mention it, but that didn't make the woman feel any less guilty doing so.
"Guess you called me 'bout the news. Been hearin' lots of things- not so good things." Remy's eyes seemed too wide for his face. He rarely blinked, and when he did, it made an impression of being painful. "But I'm thinking this isn't just strange events anymore. We're talkin' cataclysmic, babe. Talkin' poisoned water supplies and cosmic fireballs rainin' down. Talkin' a big picture scenario..."
Tish shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't think it's quite at that level-"
"Not yet! But fuck if it isn't in a few weeks, or months, or even years!" Remy knocked back his mug of luke warm coffee with more gusto than Tish could pretend to possess.
It was noon on a Friday and the diner smelled like cobbler and burnt toast, depending on which way she faced. The waitress was taking orders nearby and Tish debated on giving her a smile to apologize for Remy. She had made the call because no matter how manic her companion could be at times, he was rarely wrong. The statements he made were sitting in her gut like a palpable weight, threatening to drop through her torso and shred her intestines on its way to the floor. Good thing she knew how to feign a smile, even if half her efforts were directed towards keeping her left eye from twitching.
"But you know the Brotherhood an' you know the stakes. Even if something was up, are they gonna tell you? No." Coffee swished over the edges of the mug as he took another sloppy gulp, which left Tish studying his apocryphal statement in detail.
"Remy, you're starting to sound fucking burnt out." Having been sipping a diet coke, she could tell the ice cubes were just frozen tap water, and the diluted sugar shit she was swallowing did nothing to ease her apprehension. Trusting what she was being told meant disregarding her years spent working with the Brotherhood, but Remy was so rarely wrong, she couldn't help admitting she was curious. "What makes you think something's up? This got to do with Red Horn?" Tish didn't get into the details of her previous evening, nor did she really feel comfortable dwelling on waking up on top of her keyboard with web pages run by conspiracy theorists with backgrounds as long and winding as Remy's.
"Lemme lay this on you slow- ease you into where I'm going." Snagging a sugar packet from the dispenser, his pointer sidled it away from their eating space. "This is the Brotherhood, singular. A collective of hundreds of metahumans like you." Taking another packet, it was dropped to the side, though his fingers worked to fold it in half. "Now, you have Goliath and the villains. Less lucrative organization, but they play dirty. In their case, less is more." Remy folds the packet again lengthwise, leaving is a fourth the size of the original. "But picture this, sweetheart. Picture the Brotherhood and all it's member base, and picture them all working to weed out all the bad guys. Picture they succeed. Years go by, and Goliath is suddenly a less capable David."
Watching, Tish's brows furrow at the misnomer, but the topic remains puzzling. "Okay. I'm missing something."
"Tish, what happens when there's no more use for your kind? You clear out Goliath, and you clear out the smaller crime syndicates, and what are you left with?"
Her shoulders shrugged when her lids closed so she could suck down sweet pastry air. "We go back to being citizens?"
"FUCK NO!" Remy's hand crashed down on the counter with a violent smack, scattering the sugar packets in every direction. Patrons from their flanks murmured and gasped, but the male didn't seem at all discouraged. "They fucking do away with you. Gone with the wind! You'll be hunted like witches and put the stake, as a matter of speaking. You'll become a fairytale. A story of lorn. Nothing but a 'once upon a time', and do you know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because there's no bigger threat than a population with the power to stop those in authority."
The discussion had gone from overzealous to intimidating, and the secretary shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Spectacled gaze lowered to the mess on the counter, afraid to meet Remy's features for the time being. "I don't think that's the case Remy. We would know if that was the case."
Already retrieving a stack of crumbled newspaper clippings from his coat pocket, they were tossed at Tish with a scoff. "Then explain these to me. Red Horn, Paradox, The Masquerade, Roger Dodger, Typhoon. All gone."
Opening each of the news clippings, Tish scanned their contents one after the next, the images accompanying the articles individuals she immediately recognized. The stories all read the same. "Missing. How could they all be missing?" Her mouth was suddenly very dry, her tongue a sandpaper grater that rubbed obnoxiously against the roof of her mouth. "Remy, I don't know... I didn't know."
"Well, now you do." Continuing to dig around his pocket, a tattered twenty was produced and dropped neat his mug. "I'll keep digging for all the things everyone else seems to miss, but you're going to need to talk to your people. That's your circle of friends, Tish. You're obligated to find out just what the hell is happening." Remy rose and brushed down the front of his slacks before shaking his head at her. "I could be wrong, but what else is taking out metahumans?"
Tish was glad he didn't wait for an answer to leave because it gave the woman pseudo privacy to steady her breathing and rest her face in her hands. Pristine makeup was a thing of the past as the back of her hand was used to rub her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. Looking like a raccoon seemed to pair well with being hit by feelings of fear. At the diner in question, she was a pariah by circumstance, but if Remy was on the money with his hunch, she was in danger. Everyone she knew was in danger.
"Mark..."
Rising to her feet, Tish left without a word to settle into the front seat of her car and contemplate life, though she inevitably checked out her phone. The horoscope application showed an update and she checked it with visible misery plastered across her visage. It read:
A revelation will change the way you do things. Be strong.
A dark chuckle broke from her lips, hollow like a shed carapace, and just as miniscule. "Strong... Of course."
[/align][/spoiler]
< My 'Tish' writing blurb chapters: 2 >
<div align="justify]Remy had a smile like a jack-o-lantern, all grins and sneers. Tish hadn't asked him how someone his age could be missing so many teeth, but she did spend far too much time staring at his mouth. If he noticed, he didn't feel it necessary to mention it, but that didn't make the woman feel any less guilty doing so.
"Guess you called me 'bout the news. Been hearin' lots of things- not so good things." Remy's eyes seemed too wide for his face. He rarely blinked, and when he did, it made an impression of being painful. "But I'm thinking this isn't just strange events anymore. We're talkin' cataclysmic, babe. Talkin' poisoned water supplies and cosmic fireballs rainin' down. Talkin' a big picture scenario..."
Tish shifted uncomfortably in her seat. "I don't think it's quite at that level-"
"Not yet! But fuck if it isn't in a few weeks, or months, or even years!" Remy knocked back his mug of luke warm coffee with more gusto than Tish could pretend to possess.
It was noon on a Friday and the diner smelled like cobbler and burnt toast, depending on which way she faced. The waitress was taking orders nearby and Tish debated on giving her a smile to apologize for Remy. She had made the call because no matter how manic her companion could be at times, he was rarely wrong. The statements he made were sitting in her gut like a palpable weight, threatening to drop through her torso and shred her intestines on its way to the floor. Good thing she knew how to feign a smile, even if half her efforts were directed towards keeping her left eye from twitching.
"But you know the Brotherhood an' you know the stakes. Even if something was up, are they gonna tell you? No." Coffee swished over the edges of the mug as he took another sloppy gulp, which left Tish studying his apocryphal statement in detail.
"Remy, you're starting to sound fucking burnt out." Having been sipping a diet coke, she could tell the ice cubes were just frozen tap water, and the diluted sugar shit she was swallowing did nothing to ease her apprehension. Trusting what she was being told meant disregarding her years spent working with the Brotherhood, but Remy was so rarely wrong, she couldn't help admitting she was curious. "What makes you think something's up? This got to do with Red Horn?" Tish didn't get into the details of her previous evening, nor did she really feel comfortable dwelling on waking up on top of her keyboard with web pages run by conspiracy theorists with backgrounds as long and winding as Remy's.
"Lemme lay this on you slow- ease you into where I'm going." Snagging a sugar packet from the dispenser, his pointer sidled it away from their eating space. "This is the Brotherhood, singular. A collective of hundreds of metahumans like you." Taking another packet, it was dropped to the side, though his fingers worked to fold it in half. "Now, you have Goliath and the villains. Less lucrative organization, but they play dirty. In their case, less is more." Remy folds the packet again lengthwise, leaving is a fourth the size of the original. "But picture this, sweetheart. Picture the Brotherhood and all it's member base, and picture them all working to weed out all the bad guys. Picture they succeed. Years go by, and Goliath is suddenly a less capable David."
Watching, Tish's brows furrow at the misnomer, but the topic remains puzzling. "Okay. I'm missing something."
"Tish, what happens when there's no more use for your kind? You clear out Goliath, and you clear out the smaller crime syndicates, and what are you left with?"
Her shoulders shrugged when her lids closed so she could suck down sweet pastry air. "We go back to being citizens?"
"FUCK NO!" Remy's hand crashed down on the counter with a violent smack, scattering the sugar packets in every direction. Patrons from their flanks murmured and gasped, but the male didn't seem at all discouraged. "They fucking do away with you. Gone with the wind! You'll be hunted like witches and put the stake, as a matter of speaking. You'll become a fairytale. A story of lorn. Nothing but a 'once upon a time', and do you know why?" He didn't wait for an answer. "Because there's no bigger threat than a population with the power to stop those in authority."
The discussion had gone from overzealous to intimidating, and the secretary shifted uncomfortably in her seat. Spectacled gaze lowered to the mess on the counter, afraid to meet Remy's features for the time being. "I don't think that's the case Remy. We would know if that was the case."
Already retrieving a stack of crumbled newspaper clippings from his coat pocket, they were tossed at Tish with a scoff. "Then explain these to me. Red Horn, Paradox, The Masquerade, Roger Dodger, Typhoon. All gone."
Opening each of the news clippings, Tish scanned their contents one after the next, the images accompanying the articles individuals she immediately recognized. The stories all read the same. "Missing. How could they all be missing?" Her mouth was suddenly very dry, her tongue a sandpaper grater that rubbed obnoxiously against the roof of her mouth. "Remy, I don't know... I didn't know."
"Well, now you do." Continuing to dig around his pocket, a tattered twenty was produced and dropped neat his mug. "I'll keep digging for all the things everyone else seems to miss, but you're going to need to talk to your people. That's your circle of friends, Tish. You're obligated to find out just what the hell is happening." Remy rose and brushed down the front of his slacks before shaking his head at her. "I could be wrong, but what else is taking out metahumans?"
Tish was glad he didn't wait for an answer to leave because it gave the woman pseudo privacy to steady her breathing and rest her face in her hands. Pristine makeup was a thing of the past as the back of her hand was used to rub her eyes, but she didn't seem to notice. Looking like a raccoon seemed to pair well with being hit by feelings of fear. At the diner in question, she was a pariah by circumstance, but if Remy was on the money with his hunch, she was in danger. Everyone she knew was in danger.
"Mark..."
Rising to her feet, Tish left without a word to settle into the front seat of her car and contemplate life, though she inevitably checked out her phone. The horoscope application showed an update and she checked it with visible misery plastered across her visage. It read:
A revelation will change the way you do things. Be strong.
A dark chuckle broke from her lips, hollow like a shed carapace, and just as miniscule. "Strong... Of course."
[/align][/spoiler]
BDRP Admin. Writer. Villain. Personal Blog.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.
I tried running from the memory and the mourning.