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meatbricks · 2 months

Note

Fanfic request here :))

The Painter, by the extreme luck of the universe, makes a female friend who is 5’1 and mixed (half white and half black) like him. She’s the typical “felt bad for the loner kid so ill be nice to him” stereotype who sees the good in anyone and doesn’t know how risky this action is considering who she is befriending. The painter, knowing who he is, becomes obsessed as usual but probably in a narcissistic way.

hi anon!!! <3 thank you SO much for the request, and i'm sorry it took me so long to get to!! writing full fics as opposed to headcanon lists takes a lot of effort out of me, because i wanna make sure that they meet my own personal standards of what's acceptable to post here... since i'm writing for other people now, i wanna make sure my writing is in top shape!! :3

anyways, without further ado, i hope you enjoy!! <3

warning(s): mentioned/implied past racism, harmful delusions, mentioned past bullying/verbal abuse, mentioned murder/being coerced into murder, uhhhhh. reader REALLY needs to get a new job

fic is under the cut!!

The sun fell beneath the horizon, tinting the sky a pinkish-purple color that beautifully melted into firey orange as you lay in bed, listening to your favorite album and gazing out through the window beside you at the scenery. The fading light illuminated your quiet, suburban neighborhood perfectly; at least, it seemed perfect to you. Houses lined up neatly with golden light beaming down onto them, an occasional car rushing past on the newly-paved road in front of your residence, the well-kept shrubberies and hedges in your neighbor's yard slightly fluttering their leaves in the wind, as if to wish the daylight a fond farewell... you sighed. No matter how good or bad your day had been, being right here in this moment seemed to make it all worthwhile. It made you remember what was really important—not snide remarks from ignorant customers at work, not pay cuts or stressful overtime or even traffic jams on the way home, but this. This, and the rest of your life outside what you did for a living.

As your mind wandered and a mellow, easygoing tune soothed you, the thought of your newly-made... friend was presented to you by the celluloid of your mind. You pursed your lips momentarily. You hesitated to call him your friend, but you were ashamed of that hesitation. There was really nothing wrong with him! Sure, he looked a bit strange, and he was a bit socially awkward, but he had done nothing wrong. He was simply not used to being treated with dignity, you were sure of it. Upon first meeting him outside the coffee shop you frequented since moving to your new home, he'd mentioned his shock that you were taking time out of your day to speak to him, specifically citing his cleft lip as a deterrent to others before you and causing your heartstrings to twang with sympathy. You were well aware of what it was like to be avoided based on physical characteristics; especially here, in the deep south. That was, after all, why you'd moved here: you'd heard through the grapevine that the citizenship of Urbanspook, Louisiana was far more accepting (and even welcoming) of diversity than the vast majority of its geographical region. In a way, you saw a piece of yourself in this strange man. He sat alone, leaning against a wall, absorbing the world around him and yet having difficulties finding his own place in it. It was then that you decided you'd help him, help him realize his own value and potential.

And it was now that you found yourself thinking of your decision, wondering whether or not this simple act of kindness would be your undoing.

You figured it was fairly common for men to harbor at least a little bit of romantic feelings for their female friends; after all, it had been a trend in your previous male friends (and even simply some of the male acquaintances you'd met at work over the years). Despite this, you couldn't shake the way he looked at you. It was obvious that he adored you, yes, but you couldn't help but sense something else behind his gaze. Something that worried you quite a bit. You couldn't quite place what it was; no, not yet. You'd only known him for a few weeks. The opportunity to examine his intentions hadn't presented itself enough times for you to reach a verdict on whether your apprehension was for good reason or not. Yet, it was present. No matter whether he was in your presence, alongside you, or simply occupying your mind, it was always there.

Deep within the woods, sitting in a worn and abandoned house at the exact same time, he was there.

Reclining on a king-sized mattress and gazing at a single polaroid photo, a man known only as the Painter found himself falling deeper and deeper into a mad obsession. His deep, void eyes stared into the ink that formed in such a way that resembled yours, those belonging to his newest friend. He longed to know of what thoughts lay behind those glistening eyes, those brown eyes glittering golden in the summer sunlight... before, then, and now, he wished to think of what you thought of. Did you think of him? Did you think of his presence beside you, worshiping your every breath and motion? Basking in the glory of existing alongside the beacon of human kindness and generosity? Did you know of how he admired you, and your nobility in taking him under your wing in an act of solidarity? Your understanding and compassionate treatment of him born of a shared strife? He took a moment to imagine it all... anyone would be lucky to have you. As a friend, as a lover, simply as an acquaintance... anyone who knew you should've considered themselves one of the luckiest people alive.

It was fitting, he figured, then, that you had chosen him to occupy a place in your life.

He knew his timid appearance would get him somewhere. As everyone derided him for being too soft, too weak, too pathetic (he shuddered as the phrase crossed his mind), he would simply smile at them. He knew. He knew all along, that someone like you would find him and offer themselves up on a silver platter. Perhaps not explicitly, but in some subtle display. Some invitation to enter their life, to make himself at home in their psyche. He smiled. He had no doubt, now, that he was floating around in your mind in that very moment; breaking down your other thoughts slowly and bringing you closer to where he wanted you: into his grasp.

He wasn't quite sure what he would do with you yet. You didn't seem malleable enough to turn into an accomplice. No, no... you weren't capable of such despicable violence. He giggled, thinking of what horrified expression would cross your face as you witnessed the brutal crimes he'd made a name for himself with. Crossing his legs, he also decided that immediately killing you off would be too much to bear as well. Although he was far too familiar with murdering his darlings, there was something about you that simply entranced him too much to extinguish the life in your eyes. Those precious, innocent eyes...

He found himself lost in your photo again. Your soft hair, your glistening eyes, your impeccable choice of clothing, your beautiful skin, your gorgeous figure, your charming pose...

He just had to keep you.

#this is the answer (ooc)#this is the answer #this is the writing #this is the fanfic #x reader #🖌#urbanspook #the painter urbanspook #urbanspook analog horror #honestly i had a lot of fun writing this!!! i missed writing fics LOL #thank you again anon!!#also painter shuddering at the memory of being called pathetic is um. not exactly what you think it is #i'll give you a hint: hes not shuddering out of discomfort—#if you look REALLY closely theres some subtle hints of painter being a little bit silly :3 #but yeah tldr painter cant be normal ever about anything #and i feel rlly bad for this particular reader :')#smh she deserves better #for some reason i imagined her listening to pink floyd in the intro paragraph LOL #but i kept it vague so it can be whatever ur favorite music is!!#either way im sure its fuckin BANGER

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drabbles-of-writing · 2 years

Text

Miscommunications²

AO3

Summary: The thing is that, at the end of the day, Raine knows they don’t know Eda as well as they wanted to. Not now, and probably not then. Even still, this felt like…a very weird thing to lie about. Eda had lied about a dozen things before, but they didn't think she'd gotten to the point of lying about 𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘪𝘳𝘦 𝘦𝘷𝘦𝘯𝘵𝘴. Some might call it bizarre. Raine called it concerning. So, really, one can't blame them for taking matters into their own hands. Besides, if Eda was going to leave her tape lying around, they may as well see what the fuss was about.

. . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . . .

The thing is that, at the end of the day, Raine knows they don’t know Eda as well as they wanted to. Not now, and probably not then.

However, they do know two things; Eda is not malicious, and she knows a dumb lie a mile away. She’s petty, yes, but the worst harm she ever wishes upon people is a mild inconvenience for being jerks. She knows how stupid most of her plans are, and has enough sense to know when her ideas go from ludicrous to downright painful to be part of.

And yet, there she had stood, reaching out and pleading, claiming to have seen Raine. Two weeks ago. When they had been in the infirmary.

And this felt like…a very weird thing to lie about.

Eda was an actor, sure, but something felt so off about how excited she’d been to see them, how she so casually mentioned Darius and Eberwolf by name, how dead-set she was on insisting they’d seen each other not weeks before.

Eda could probably hold her own against the Emperor if she wanted, but she didn’t fight a lost cause unless she thought it was worth it. And Raine likes to think they made it very clear they didn’t care for whatever stunt Eda was trying to pull this time.

Why, in all the Boiling Isles, would Eda lie about when she’d last spoken with them? It made no sense. They’d hadn’t spoken in years, not even a passing glance on the street in at least five. She had no reason to suddenly drop in and insist she and Raine were buddy-buddy again. She hated the Coven’s, but she wasn’t the type to try and deceive her way in and systematically take it down. She was more likely to blow it up in one go.

Raine blamed their concern over Eda’s wellbeing as the reason that, when the guards came to fetch them, and Eda had vanished into thin air, they’d paused at the sight of a small, rectangular black box on the ground.

She’d forgotten her tape. The one she’d played that made Raine’s head pound and only served to aggravate them further. The one she’d shoved in their face with such certainty that it’d do the trick.

Raine was worried. So that, clearly, was why they had picked up the tape, knowing the guards couldn’t care less, and tucked it into their pocket.

And now, here Raine was, sitting at their desk, hands folded in front of their face, staring down at the tape recorder before them. It’d been over half an hour.

Each time they pressed the play button, a headache would start. They figured it probably had something to do with a concussion, they’re pretty sure Terra said they’d gotten one of those. Concussions could last for quite a while, they hear.

And each time the pain started, they drank more of Terra’s tea, (as much as they loathed to take anything from her) waited for a minute, and tried again. Same results.

They supposed it could've been something that Eda enchanted it with. But why would she curse a recorder to give people headaches? She could probably just put on one of her screamer songs and it’d do the same trick. No, it must have had something to do with being bedridden for a month.

They were determined to hear the whole thing through, though, because for whatever reason, Eda deemed it important. So Raine grit their teeth, held their head in their hands, and listened.

They did recognize it. It sounded…awfully familiar to a song Eda used to play on her mandolin. Raine’s Rhapsody, they recalled. They thought the name was silly, so, of course, Eda kept it.

It wasn’t the exact song. It was blended in with an entirely different one, but they knew that had to be where they remembered it from. The nagging hissing at the back of their mind was just mad about the headache, that was it.

It was a spell, they realized at one point. It had to be. The song Eda would play had been a spell in its own right, albeit a very weak one, but a spell nonetheless that affected all the surrounding areas. It’d been blended with a viola, two entirely different spells creating a new one.

Which was why Raine was staring down at it now, contemplating. Because Eda had asked if they’d remembered it. And they had a sneaking suspicion she wasn’t trying to guilt them into remembering that old Rhapsody. No, if she was truly that cruel, she’d have a recording of that alone, not whatever this was.

Raine was not immune to flaws, so they could admit they were curious. About Eda, about her motives, hell, the whole situation piqued their interest. And this song was just one piece of it, but an important piece nonetheless.

Raine sighed, let their shoulders slump, resigned themself, and hit play. They’d lost count long ago.

They powered through the headaches, listening intently to the keys the viola struck. That, they could figure out first. They gritted their teeth, rubbing at their temples, and hit play again. They listened, tapped out a rhythm, and at one point, pulled out a piece of paper and pen. They hit play again, and began to write. Paused, rewound, listened, wrote. Hit play, strained their ears, frowned, erased more notes, rewound, listened again.

At some point, the headache became a dull thrumming, rather than a harsh strike that shot through the whole of their skull. But they wouldn’t notice that for a while, instead muttering under their breath as they wrote down all they could determine.

It really was quite a nice song. Raine couldn’t help but wonder who Eda had played it with. Come to think of it, they didn’t even know Eda still had her old mandolin. Maybe it was a new one. Regardless, they thought she’d given up playing quite a while ago.

They supposed they felt a little proud about that, knowing the hours spent in the empty classrooms and fields, trying to teach Eda the proper way to hold the instrument, hadn’t all been forgotten. Or maybe she was still holding it wrong and powering through anyway. Both were plausible.

At one point, Raine paused, and looked down at their notes, and realized that their guesses were only going to go so far.

The door to their office was always shut, and the only one who came to check on them was Terra, and she’d already come by a few hours ago.

Raine slowly stood from their desk, placed the scrap of paper on the edge, and summoned their viola.

They placed their bow on the strings, inhaled once, closed their eyes, exhaled, untensed their hand, and played.

They almost immediately hit a sour note.

Raine frowned, grumbling and setting their bow down to inspect the paper again. It seemed about right, but then they reached for the recorder and let it play, they frowned when they heard the difference. They played too low, it needed to be higher. They nodded to themself, set it aside, and scribbled down the change.

The only real way to get it right was through trial and error, after all.

They counted the lines, nodded, and played again.

They got a total of five seconds in before they hit another note that sounded off. That, and a spike of pain through the side of their head that had them gritting their teeth and slumping out of their posture. Maybe playing with a concussion was a bad idea.

They groaned, setting down their viola and popping the lid off of their hollowed out tooth flask. They threw it back, sighing as the ache in their head slowly faded with it. Every day, they were eternally grateful for the healing coven's ability to join with practically any magic there was. They’re pretty sure that’s how Terra made it, at least.

They blinked, paused, frowned, and looked back down at the sheet of paper. They were supposed to write something, weren’t they? They’d gotten something wrong. Their frown deepened. Which note did they mess up, again?

“Whispers?”

The knock at the door didn’t quite scare Raine out of their skin, but it scared them enough for their arm to smack against their desk and hiss at the pain that shot up it, clutching their arm close.

“Uh, yes?” Raine called, voice strained as they hastily scooped up their viola, letting it and the bow vanish back to the little case they stored them in back home.

“Head Witch Terra is asking for a report of the, er, events of the parade.” The person beyond the door said. Probably one of the scouts, or lower guards.

“Of course,” Raine sighed, just a bit tired. “Tell her I’ll be there in a minute.”

“Yes, Head Witch.” The guard said, and old habits had Raine’s ears pricking and waiting till they heard footsteps retreat down the hallway.

Discussing their ‘kidnapping’ was the last thing they wanted to do, but they supposed Terra would accept a vague overall summary of the events. Not like she’d get anything useful out of it. The Coven had started focusing more on the approaching Day of Unity rather than deal with capturing the Owl Lady. Which was a little odd, because Raine could’ve sworn it was like over half the efforts to capture her had dropped overnight, but then again, they hadn’t been paying too much attention to it.

Raine just shook their head, and opened a drawer in their desk before stashing the tape, and the notes, inside. If anyone asked, they’d just say they were trying to learn a new piece. It was technically the truth.

One hand rubbed at their temple with a sigh. Another time, then.

It ended up being more difficult than it should’ve been.

Being Head of a Coven, Raine didn’t exactly have a lot of free time. But when they did, they’d pull out the recorder, and the notes, and try and decipher just what kind of spell was being performed.

The problem was that for every new line Raine learned, they forgot the tiniest piece of another. Which would’ve normally made no sense, considering how many complicated pieces Raine had long-since memorized, some of which were just for fun. But Terra had explained back when they were in the infirmary that their brain would probably be a little fuzzy for a while, so it was probably something they’d have to push through.

Their note-taking definitely helped them stay on track. They’d just have to replay a note a few times to make sure it was the right one, and that it was held for an appropriate amount of time. They’d find themself leaning back in their office chair, chewing on a pencil as they read over the sheet music and tried to determine the kind of spell they were listening to.

What they had figured out, when they were almost halfway through, was that it was at the very least a powerful spell. One often had to make the conscious effort for music to not turn into magic, and Raine had neglected to do so about twice. Which had ended in the room being engulfed in a golden light, a sort of trance-like magic.

It was a blanket spell, but with a much wider reach, and the kind used to combine two kinds of spells. The kinds used when one wanted to flood an area, or set it on fire, or cause a jungle of vines. Which had them nothing short of perplexed, because Eda’s song was definitely part of it, and hers was almost the same, albeit with a shorter reach.

So, Raine was waiting for the second half for whatever that blanket spell was waiting on to kickstart it. To make it something more.

Which was why Raine was on the balcony of their house, viola in hand, squinting at the notes clipped onto their music stand.

It was already late, dusk painting the sky an array of oranges and pink. They’d normally be wrapping up the last of their documents and piles of paperwork, but they’d pulled an all-nighter previously so they could afford to have some time to practice.

Raine leaned back, placed the bow along the strings, counted the notes, and let music quietly fill the air.

The deja vu had faded over the amount of times they’d heard the song on repeat, but the headaches never did stop. No other music seemed to cause such headaches, which made Raine worry, again, that it was some sort of mental spell. But if that were true, then it shouldn’t affect them when they played it, only the grossly unstable ones did that.

Just another oddity, they supposed.

Raine made it just past the halfway mark before they felt a slam against their head, and they harshly exhaled as they set their viola aside on one of the chairs out on the balcony. They took a swing of their flask, sighing and shaking their head. A less stubborn witch would’ve given up by now. Unfortunately, Raine was known for being relentless. Tough luck.

They sighed, shook their head, and picked up the tape again to listen.

They shut their eyes, tapping one finger against the back of the chair to the beat, ignoring the ache. Listening to it still gave no hints as to what kind of spell it was. It sounded just like an unfinished blanket spell, nothing more. It would’ve been normal, if Eda hadn’t been playing the second part. Maybe it was some kind of strong levitation spell?

It finished with a click, and they turned to scribble down a few more notes on the paper before they got distracted. It kept happening, and they didn’t want to make this process longer than it already was.

“You just love to make things difficult for me, don’t you?” Raine muttered, taking another sip of their tea in between the writing. Their ears didn’t so much as twitch at the sound of a soft clatter behind them.

Their eyes scanned over the shabby sheet as they picked up their viola again. They kept their eyes on it, even as the bow lay on the strings, and they played once again.

The dull throb was there, but they pushed through it as the song filled the air. They made about half an effort to not let the surrounding area become enveloped in gold, because at this point, they weren’t sure if there was a second part to the song. Also, their neighbors probably wouldn’t appreciate it. They barely put up with their nightly music sessions as it was.

It wasn’t quite the same, without the mandolin accompanying it. Almost made Raine pause and listen to it again to see if they missed anything. But they weren’t, so they kept their eyes on the page and followed it as though it were an actual sheet of notes.

Raine wracked their brain as they reached the end of the line, and managed to play a few keys that sounded startlingly familiar before there was a much lower pitch than how it was supposed to be.

“Not even close,” Raine muttered to themself, lowering their viola and holding it off to the side attempting to shift the bow over into their viola hand while picking up the pencil and scribbling it down. “And then a low–no, high C, it was a high C.” Raine shook their head, erasing the half-made attempt and re-writing it.

A shuffle went unnoticed.

Raine nodded to themself, unclipping their flask from their belt (a rather difficult task, they had to say) and taking a single sip before clipping it back. They then stepped back, held the viola up, breathed out, and listened as the strings sang.

The first half or so was almost muscle memory now, even if they squinted at the notes and swore they didn’t remember it looking like that before. So they let themself step to the side a bit, allowing themself to unfocus from their surroundings and eyes cloud over as they focused on the music.

A sharp sound, and Raine winced, immediately stopping. Did a string break? That sounded horrendously wrong. They moved their viola away from their neck, inspecting it with a frown. It looked fine enough, but surely they hadn’t hit a note that bad, had they? That was a rookie mistake, they were well beyond that–

“Back here, Raine.”

Raine did jump out of their skin then, jerking back and colliding with the music stand, sending it falling to the ground with a loud clang. They winced at the sound, which was not helping their almost constant headaches now. Their viola was raised, halfway back to their neck in a defensive position, because they knew nobody was supposed to be here, they lived alone, and guards tend to knock before entering–

There, at the very back of their balcony, leaning against the railing as if she wasn’t trespassing, was Eda.

She looked just as surprised as Raine felt, which was odd, because Raine’s pretty sure they’re not the one who broke into someone's property. Maybe she didn’t know it was Raine’s? That one was understandable, Raine had moved three times in the last few years with their changing promotions, she probably just saw a fancy house and thought it was a good idea to try and loot from it.

Eda’s arms were loosely crossed across her chest, wide eyes flicking up and down Raine’s frame as if she couldn’t believe what she was seeing. Raine’s shock, however, was slowly morphing into just plain confusion. And maybe a hint of annoyance.

“Eda,” Raine said, clearing their throat and eyeing the fallen stand, wondering if they could risk putting down their viola to pick it up. “What are–how did you–you’re not supposed to be here, you know, this is private property–”

“Is that my tape?” Eda asked, one hand raising, pointing to the chair where said tape lay.

“Oh, uh,” Raine flushed, just a bit, because, oh, yeah, they technically stole that from her, didn’t they? “I’m–yes, yeah.” They nodded, ears twitched just a bit lower. “You left it, so I just…I didn’t want to leave it there.” They said, stepping a little closer to the chair. “Someone might have stolen it.”

“Right,” Eda said slowly, disbelieving. Which was a little unfair, because that had been why Raine had taken it. Half of it, at least. “Now, I know I’m getting a little old, so forgive me if my ears are faulty, but were you just…playing it?”

“Er,” Raine coughed, eyes darting to the side. “It was…well, you see, I–” They grasped for something, because when confronted, the excuse that ‘I wanted to see why it was so important to you’ or ‘I felt drawn to it for no other reason than I recognized our old song’ didn’t sound so solid anymore. “It’s…it’s a powerful spell, isn’t it?” They settled on.

“Huh?”

“I can tell these things, Eda.” Raine said, and decided that Eda probably wasn’t here to fight them again. And if she was, then at least Raine could throw a right hook. They let their viola move away from its position, laying it on the chair next to the tape as they turned back to the music stand. “It’s a blanket spell, and…” They paused, and they knew Eda noticed. “And a levitation spell, I think. But a very strong blanket spell, which makes no sense to waste on a levitation one, if it even is that.”

“I thought you said you could tell these things?” Eda raised a brow.

“Well, you always liked to make things difficult.” Raine may have been a little curt, back turned towards Eda as they set the stand straight, hoping it hadn’t dented. “And no matter how many times I would play that rhapsody, it never could make up its mind on what kind of spell it was. And you never explained.”

“You never asked.” Eda said, and she sounded a little distant.

They didn’t, now that they thought about it. But then Raine noticed then that the sheet was gone from the stand, and pushed the thought from their mind. They blinked, looking around the ground for where it could’ve fallen. They swore they used a clip, didn’t they? Did it come off?

“Have you seen–” Raine turned, and realized why Eda sounded distant.

She’d moved places, almost on the opposite corner of the balcony, notes in hand. Raine tensed a bit, though, really, what would it do for Eda to skim over them? She’d played it, it’s not like she’d learn anything new out of it, even if it wasn’t her part.

“Have you been trying to learn it?” Eda asked, looking up from the notes, nothing short of shocked and…hopeful? For some reason?

“It’s a powerful spell.” Raine repeated, hands twitching to snatch it back. They’d already put so much effort into remembering it. “And it’s one you played, I figured I should, well, know what you did.” They said, a little lamely. “Since it seemed like such a big deal.”

“It was.” Eda said, eyes flicking from the notes to Raine. “You don’t remember how to play it?”

“Me? I don’t think I’ve ever done a spell quite like this, Eda.” Raine shook their head, stepping around their stand, closer. “I recognize your part, but that’s all.” They said, and Eda looked just a little sad at that.

“Aw, was I that memorable?” Eda joked, but it sounded hollow.

“It was one of five songs you played.” Raine deadpanned, even if they were more than a little put off. Something was wrong with her before, and it seems to still not have left. “Of course I did.”

“Right,” Eda nodded, sadness dissipating with a definite bit of force.

And in the standstill, which was a very awkward one, Raine realized a few things.

Eda looked…different. They’re sure they saw it when they spoke in the alleyway, but there wasn’t exactly time to dwell. But now there was, and the first thing they noticed was the white streak through her hair. They had guessed that her hair started graying out from the curse rather than stress a while ago, but now they were wondering if her hair was going to turn stark-white at some point.

The second was; “what happened to your eye?”

Eda stared for a second, starting to raise a hand to her grayed out eye before shaking her head and letting it fall.

“Oh, uh, it’s a long story.” Eda chuckled, a little uneasily. “It didn’t have anything to do with the spell, if you’re worried.”

“I wasn’t,” Raine said, and was at least at ease figuring Eda could still see out of that eye. She seemed to have a fine depth perception back in the alley. “You’re not crazy enough to use a self-destructive spell like that.”

Eda’s expression grew tense and vaguely uncomfortable. Raine didn’t have time to try and discern what that meant before Eda stepped forward, notes in hand. Raine eyed her, and Eda stopped a reasonable distance away.

“It’s…a destructive spell.” Eda said eventually, hand stretched out, offering the notes. “So, not a levitation one.”

“It wasn’t?” Raine asked with a hum, hesitantly reaching out to take the paper back.

“Yeah, unfortunately, that ol’ rhapsody’s glory days are long gone.” Eda said with a weak chuckle, and Raine was a little surprised Eda didn’t linger when they took the notes, letting her arm move back to a crossed position across her chest. “You can thank the curse for that.”

Raine’s head jerked up. Ah, okay, we were mentioning that in casual conversation now. Out of nowhere. Cool, cool, very cool.

“I see,” Raine said slowly, very careful of their words now. The ‘how’s the curse been, then?’ and the ‘have you been handling it alright?’ would have to wait, possibly forever. “What kind of destructive was it, then?”

“Not entirely sure,” Eda admitted, and she started walking again, and Raine stepped to the side as she passed. “Of the specifics, I mean.” She said, continuing till she was just to the side of the music stand, one hand on the railing. “What I do know is it would’ve killed every living thing that had the misfortune of being in the area. Disintegration, maybe? Eating it away? I’d tested it, like, twice before.”

“Oh,” Raine said, cringing a little. “What…goodness, when would you ever have had to use that spell?” They asked, a little shot of fear hitting them. “Is–Eda did you–”

“No one’s dead.” Eda said with a wave of her hand, and if it wasn’t the Boiling Isles, a normal person would’ve been shocked at how casually she said it. “We didn’t complete the spell. Got pretty damn close, though.”

“Ah,” Raine nodded slowly, cautiously stepping closer, just to slip the notes back onto the stand, eyes warily watching her. They pursed their lips, hesitated, and asked; “May I ask who this ‘we’ is?”

Eda turned her head back to them, blinking like a deer in the headlights. Raine rolled their eyes a bit, and since they were satisfied Eda wasn’t going to take the sheet for whatever reason, turned back to their chair.

“There’s two instruments in the song, Eda.” Raine said. “I know the mandolin is you, nobody else knows that song, and remind me to ask when you picked up music again, but you were never good with violas.” They said, picking up their own in emphasis. “So, who were you playing with? They’re remarkably good. And for the record,” They added quickly, Eda’s spooked expression still remaining. “You may use an alias, if you’re worried. I’m not going to go hunting down a witch who’s willingly worked with you, but I will warn you that I can’t promise special treatment.”

They fully expected Eda to grin and crack a joke, something about ‘who knew the great Whispers could be impressed?’ or ‘oh, so I’m the only one with special treatment, then?’ because that’s just…what she did.

Instead, Eda’s face crumbled even more, something akin to remorse and guilt, and Raine panicked for a second that they’d hit a sensitive spot. Someone she’d had a falling out with, maybe? It wasn’t odd, Eda wasn’t always an easy person for most to get along with.

“That…” Eda swallowed, and Raine almost told her to forget it, but she just shook her head, turning fully around, both hands behind her gripping the railing as she faced them. “Raine, I played that with you.”

“What?” Raine blinked. “You–no, no you didn’t.” They shook their head. That was out of left field. “I would’ve remembered if I was anywhere near you, Eda.” They said, hesitantly glancing at their bow and deciding to leave it. “And I’ve definitely never played this before.”

“You have.” Eda said, as though it were a fact of the world. “You–you have to have the sheet music somewhere, you played it without hesitation. Unless you made it up on the fly, in which case, I am beyond impressed.”

“Eda, I don’t often forget my own music.” Raine said, letting their annoyance seep into their voice. “And I most certainly don’t forget blanket spells of this power. You don’t have to tell me who you played this with, it was just a simple question, good grief.”

“You were there,” Eda insisted, one hand leaving the railing. “Raine, I swear to you, on my life, I wouldn’t lie about this. You were the one who made us stop playing, I wouldn’t–” She shut her mouth with a click, ducking her head.

“And that’s another thing,” Raine said, deciding to let her sudden aversion go. It was nothing new. “I still don’t understand why. You’ve tried to trick people on some pretty crazy things, but this is pushing it.” They said with a shake of their head. “Are you sure you didn’t hit your head on something? Even I have trouble believing you’d try to spin a lie this ludicrous.”

“Because I’m not.” Eda insisted. “I’m thinking you might’ve hit your head on something.”

“And I might have been inclined to agree,” Raine said, reaching out and pulling their stand just a bit closer, eyeing the notes that were already starting to look new to them all over again. “Had you been saying we’ve spoken months ago, not a few weeks. I was in the infirmary, not running around with you.”

“And I’m telling you that you weren’t.” Eda said, both hands off the railing. “I don’t know what I’ve gotta to do convince you of this, but if you have any idea, do tell.”

“Well, you’ll certainly be in better graces with me if you got off my property.” Raine muttered. “I’m a bit busy at the moment, if you can’t tell.”

“With my tape,” Eda reminded, appearing just a tiny bit miffed. “I was worried where that thing had gone, in case you were wondering.”

“Do you want a copy?” Raine drawled, as though they hadn’t already decided it was best to make one as a backup.

“I’d like it back, actually.” Eda said, standing straighter. “Since you already know what the spell does, no need to keep learning it, right?”

Raine hesitated, a moment too long to be brushed off as them trying to find their words. Why did they want to know in the first place, anyway? Because Eda thought it was important? They would’ve given it back then, surely, if it was important to her. Because they wanted to know the spell? Sure, but they could’ve handed it off to other bards under them who could’ve figured it out in half the time it took for Raine to learn it.

“I’ll just make a copy for myself, then.” Raine said, turning their head away. “You can keep the original if it means so much.”

“Why have it at all?” Eda asked, arms crossed, in that tone that said it was a trap, and Raine knew they’d already hit it. “I just told you what it does.”

“You could be lying,” Raine said quickly, fingers dancing along the neck and strings of their viola in a nervous gesture. “I may as well check.”

“You’d need two instruments to check it.” Eda said, leaning against the railing. “And I don’t see you practicing with anyone else.”

“I doubt anyone has the time to learn a one-off song and never use it again.” Raine huffed, eyes locked on the sky in the distance, now almost completely blackened. Besides, it felt wrong to have someone else play the song Eda made for them. They could switch it around, they supposed, but that…also felt wrong, somehow.

“So you admit that you aren’t trying to repeat the song.”

“Would you get to the point?” Raine snapped, shoulders hunched up, grip tightening on their instrument.

“Would you?” Eda shot back. “Raine, seriously, why do you care about a song you don’t even recognize?”

And Raine…didn’t have an answer for that. They opened their mouth, closed it, ears pressed back, thought for a second, almost spoke, then trailed off.

Even if they got the mandolin section down, two people would need to play it if they truly wanted to check the spell. And Eda was right, her curse most always messed with her magic in some way, so it’d be impossible to fully replicate unless she was playing, or she somehow had no hiccups. She had no reason to lie about the severity of it, hell, she was more likely to lie about it being safer.

Why did they care?

“I don’t–” They started, bringing their hands up to their chest, tightly clutching their viola and bow. “I’d just like to know, that's all.”

Technically not a lie, but not the truth, either. Any answer would be enough if it got Eda to leave, because now there were a dozen thoughts tumbling over each other in their head, and it wasn’t doing their frequent ache any favors.

“Mmhmm,” Eda hummed, clearly not believing a word of it. “That definitely makes sense.”

“Oh, you have no right to be deciding what does or doesn’t make sense!” Raine glowered. “You can’t seriously think you can drop in, tell me the stupidest thing I’ve ever heard, and then fight me about it, and expect me to brush it off.”

“I’m not asking you to brush it off, I’m asking you to listen.” Eda stressed, ears pressed back, lip twitching over her gold fang. “Somethings happened with you, and I don’t know what, but I want to help–”

“Well obviously something happened, I was in the infirmary!”

Eda winced back a bit, and some part of Raine hoped their neighbors weren’t going to investigate their shouting. Probably not, from all the noise they caused on a regular basis, but that didn’t stop them from worriedly glancing off to the other buildings, if just briefly.

“What were you even in the infirmary for?” Eda demanded, eyes narrowing. “A tuba falling on your head or something?”

“I’ll have you know it was–” They paused for half a second, flinching as a flash of pain shot through their head. They’d spoken to Terra just a day before they left the infirmary, right? The walls were white–no, gray–and there had been guards–nurses–walking around, and Terra had said…“a field accident.”

That’s probably what she said. Or something akin to it. Come to think of it, they aren’t sure if Terra explained why they were there at all. But that made sense, it’d be an embarrassment if they were in a simple mishap rather than an attack on the field. Darius wouldn’t have let them hear the end of it.

Granted, they didn’t think Darius, or Eberwolf, had been in the same room as them for quite a while.

They remembered the moving, gliding position over their viola of a controlling spell and dark, reaching abominations. Then another shot of pain hit their head and they grit their teeth before grabbing at their tea again.

“Field accident.” Eda repeated. “What kind of field accident?”

“Why do you suddenly care?” Raine hissed, voice raspy, and if Eda’s cringe and pinched expression were any indication, it’d been spit out harsher than they meant for it to. They blamed the pain in their head for that, downing a quick gulp of the tea. They had more in stock, right? This one was already past halfway empty.

There was a moment of silence, one where Raine stayed glaring at the tea in their hands and wished, not for the first time, they could have a civil conversation. For starters, it’d make them feel less miserable.

“I always did.” Eda said, so much softer than they’d heard her in a long, long time, and despite giving her a shocked stare, she continued; “And while I know we’re getting a bit older these days, I don’t think either of us are at the point where we’re forgetting entire events.”

“Eda, I don’t know what else to tell you except repeat the same thing over and over.” Raine sighed, shaking their head.

“Neither do I!” Eda was starting to sound a little frantic. “I’d give you witnesses, but they’re kind of in the Conformatorium right now. Titan,” She sucked in a breath, eyes darting to the side and staring off before darting back. “Do you even remember a kid by the name of Katya?”

It struck them as familiar. They frowned, fingers twitching over their viola as they turned their head to the side and thought, squinting. Maybe that was one of their students? There was a flicker of sharp teeth and the hasty closing of a notebook before their head complained loudly and they elected to not follow that thought. Why would Eda know any of their students?

“Oh Raine.” Eda breathed, eyes wide with something that might’ve been horror if Raine wasn’t too afraid of the thought of Eda being this disturbed.

“Eda, look–” Raine started, taking a step to the side, uneasy. They paused, squinted, and felt a flicker of something familiar, and the words were out before they could think to keep it to themself; “what happened to your eye?”

It hadn’t been grayed before. When had that happened? Had she been blinded? They doubted it, she moved just fine in the alleyway, but it would possibly explain some odd behavior if she’d recently suffered some kind of issue with it.

Eda stared. They immediately knew it was a mistake to speak, because Eda looked like she’d been slapped in the face, the maybe-horror only growing as her face fell.

“Raine, you–” Eda shook her head, ears pressed back, hands halfway through reaching out. “Raine, you already–”

“Raine Whispers?”

Both froze, stiffer than boards as wide eyes stared at each other. Well, shit.

Raine hastily held a finger to their lips, though they’re sure Eda didn’t need to be told twice. They set their viola aside and hurried to the edge of the balcony, gripping the railing as they peered over.

A hesitant, uneasy guard stared back up at them through their empty mask. There were two others with them surveying the street, and Raine had no doubt that there were more at the front door.

“Er, hello?” Raine tried an unsure smile. “Is there a problem here?”

“Yeah, uh, we’re sorry about this, but,” The guard glanced at their friend, who seemed wholly indifferent. “We got a noise complaint from one of the neighbors.”

“Ah, my mistake.” Raine said with a nervous chuckle, if a bit miffed, because sure, they and Eda weren’t exactly being quiet, and there was a little yelling, but they’d certainly heard louder before, and they’d stopped complaining a good while ago–

“We heard there may have been an…altercation?” The guard added on hesitantly. “We don’t mean to be a bother, Head Witch, your neighbors were just worried you might be in trouble.”

Ah. That made more sense. Raine leaned back just enough that the guard couldn’t make out their grimace, looking back over their shoulder to find Eda a few paces back, very clearly listening in, expression a conflicting mess of emotions.

“Oh, that.” Raine said, waving a hand. “Yes, I was simply…having an argument with someone.” They said, very aware of Eda right behind them. “Over a scroll. I apologize if I was being bothersome.”

Couldn’t fault their neighbors for being worried, they supposed. Even if it had terrible timing.

“We were told there was a, and I quote; ‘feral figure’ around here.” A second guard said, sounding incredibly uninterested at this time of the night. “Can we just come up and inspect the place so we don’t get reprimanded for being lazy?” They sighed. “The last time we faked an inspection, our captain found out from someone on standby and we were on shore patrol for a month.”

Raine cringed at the mere thought of it. They remembered shore patrol, back before they were even a teacher. It was fuzzy, but they knew of plenty of accidental burns and creatures from the shallows that liked to rear their ugly heads on those patrols.

“Well,” Raine glanced back at Eda, who’s ears kept twitching and swiveling in every which way. “Sure thing.” They relented, ignoring the way Eda’s head snapped towards them. “Will you give me a moment?”

“Try and make this quick, Head Witch.” The guard sighed, gesturing to the others. “We don’t want to be here any more than you want us.”

Raine didn’t bother responding, stepping away from the railing and back out of sight, turning to see Eda try and shake her expression off into something contemplative, though Raine could see the clear distress a mile away that she was trying to smother. They could focus on the eye thing later.

“You need to–”

“Hey, I’m not looking forward to going head-to-head with the guards, either.” Eda raised her hands in a placating gesture, voice wavering. “I’ll leave.” She said, sounding like she’d rather do anything else.

“Eda,” Raine started, voice quiet, though they’re sure the guards were off at their front door now, and they probably couldn’t hear them at normal volume. “Look, just…” They exhaled, shaking their head. “Get out of here, alright? Bonesborough, I mean.” They added when Eda gave them a confused look. “Clear your head, it really seems like you need it.”

“I’m fine.” Eda huffed, and Raine only raised a brow. She wasn’t even trying to hide that lie. “And I-I’d still like that tape back.” She added, looking over them as though they’d disappear.

Had they mentioned the tape already? Raine’s pretty sure they had. It felt a little muffled in their head.

“I’ll make a copy and give you the original in a day or two, and then you can go.” Raine relented, ignoring Eda’s frown. “Just…” Their arm twitched, half raised, a moment's hesitation, before they placed a hand on her shoulder. “Just go home, Eda.”

Eda stared at their hand for a moment, at a loss. She then looked at Raine’s face, something downright vulnerable there, and Raine was quick to drop their hand when they saw Eda’s begin to inch up. Some longing part of them regretted it.

“Okay,” Eda said quietly, nodding her head with a swallow. “Alright. I’ll see you sometime then, yeah?” She said, a slight tilt to her lips.

“Just for the tape.” Raine reiterated. “I’m serious about taking a break. I’m worried about you.” They said, meaning it far more than Eda probably knew.

“I’d be touched, truly, if I wasn’t the same.” Eda said, eyes darting to the side, ear twitching, and Raine knew she was trying to hear for the guards. Lost cause, really.

“Of all people, you really don’t need to worry about me.” Raine said, turning to walk past her, deciding that it wouldn’t do anything to linger. “I’ve been doing just fine, and that isn’t changing anytime soon, I assure you.”

Eda didn’t speak for a moment, and Raine didn’t look back as they unclipped their notes from their music stand, glanced over the unfamiliar writing, great, and folded it up to tuck it back into their front pocket.

“Yeah,” Eda finally said, and Raine spared a quick, hopefully unnoticeable glance back, unfortunately seeing that Eda was staring right at them, looking nothing short of worn. “Yeah, you can handle yourself. Sorry for causing a scene, that–I didn’t mean to–yeah.” Eda crossed her arms, turning her head to look elsewhere.

“Just tell me you’ll take care of yourself.” Raine said, frowning as they halfway turned, looking her over. “You look like a wreck. And I’m putting that lightly.”

“I have been.” Eda said, and she started moving when Raine turned back to pick up their viola. The guards would be getting antsy soon. “Trust me.”

“You make it kind of hard to.” Raine said, picking up their viola from the chair.

“I don’t–” Eda stuttered, then sighed. “Yeah, that-that’s fair.”

Raine turned away from the chair then, viola in hand, to find her swinging a leg over the side of the balcony.

“At least have your staff at the ready!” Raine exclaimed, mildly panicked. “That’s not a small drop, Eda–”

“I’ve fallen from worse heights.” Eda waved it off, perched at the edge without a care in the world. “Besides, they’ll see me if I fly off.”

“If you break your legs, I’m not calling the healing coven.” They warned, and Eda, for once, cracked a smile. It didn’t reach her eyes, but Titan, it was something.

“And here I thought you were worried.” Eda teased, a tilt to her head, halfway turned.

“I can be worried and still not encourage your terrible behavior.” Raine defended.

“Like you’ve done any better.”

“I have, actually, and quite frequently these days, I’ll have you know–”

“Head Witch Whispers?”

“Shit,” Raine hissed, hastily glancing back to the other side of the balcony, where guards were still awaiting, and ignoring Eda’s little snicker at their curse. “I need to go–”

“Yeah, yeah, go deal with your high and mighty Coven buddies.” Eda said, with no real malice behind it, waving a hand.

“It’s an inspection–never mind.” Raine sighed, and hesitated, for just a second, realizing only when they reached the sliding glass door that they’d left the music stand out on the balcony. They figured they could go back in and grab it later, but they were already out here, so really–

“Take care, Rainstorm.” Eda said gently, and Raine dared to look at her, and knew fully well that the soft, longing look Eda was sending them wasn’t imagination. They’d long since stopped imagining that.

“Huh,” Raine said, and they allowed the smallest of smiles that might’ve been only a little ironic in turn. “Haven’t heard that one in a minute.”

Eda’s face became crestfallen only a moment later, and Raine felt a twinge in the back of their skull. They felt bad for it.

“Yeah,” Eda echoed, giving a curt nod. “I’ll, uh, see you around. Soon.”

Only then, at the distance, and in the faint glow of the lights inside their house, and the way Eda’s body turned to push off the railing, did Raine notice the lack of a glint, or even a glow, from a spot just under her collarbone. The absence of a bright golden gem.

Raine’s eyes widened, and time didn’t freeze in that moment, but their eyes certainly didn’t process anything else, stuck on the black, ovular piece sticking to Eda’s chest, practically invisible in the dark light.

They knew why Eda had gotten that gem. She had no care for them, even teased Raine for their own when they were younger. Lilith had been the one to explain its significance to the curse, and it was through broken, forced-out sentences. But Raine knew what a black gem meant, and they were sure anyone could’ve seen the moment their horror sunk in.

Course, by that time, their head decided to catch up with their surroundings. And Eda was gone in what felt like a blink.

A quick, impatient knock.

“Coming!” Raine shouted, hurriedly opening the sliding glass door and laying their viola on the couch as they passed by, rushing to the stairway in a blur that didn’t register until they were opening the front door.

“Whispers,” The guard at the door greeted, and Raine counted three at the door, and if they pricked their ears, they could pick up two more footsteps approaching.

“Sorry about that.” Raine said, the words sounding cheerfully hollow as they stepped to the side. “Please, come on in. I don’t mean to keep you waiting any longer.”

The guard grumbled as they walked in, and among the five, one of them could almost be described as apologetic as they breezed on by.

They knew they wouldn’t find Eda. Even when her place of residence was known, nobody could ever get a hold on her. Which was a shame, because if they didn’t know that, they’d blame it on the reason their hands were shaking.

They crossed their arms over their chest, smiled, and hoped they had enough painkillers to last till morning. Their headache still hadn’t left.

They found a sheet of music in their folders not even twenty-four hours later, a fresh flask of tea at their hip, and still holding off on making a copy of that damned tape. They couldn’t tell you why they waited, if only because they didn’t want to know themself.

They hadn’t yet written anything new on their sheet. They still had work to do, after all, so they held off on listening to the tape, and it certainly gave them a much needed moment of reprieve. Instead, in their brief breaks, they reorganized their old folders and sorted through songs they might want to put in lessons for teachers within their coven.

Coven leaders didn’t teach classes. They mourned the loss of that, but such is the way of life. They couldn’t say they regretted it, really.

And there, among their sheets, was an old piece of paper that really shouldn’t have caught their eye. Its title was simply Reach, and there was nothing remarkable about the notes. It was a spell made to go with another piece, a blanket spell that worked much harder than it had any reason to.

Their eyes skimmed over it, and they began to set it over with one of the lesser-powerful spells, when–

They paused, frowned, and drew the sheet back, looking over the notes.

There was a distinct sense of deja vu.

Slowly, Raine reached for their drawer, pulling it open and withdrawing their mystery notes, unfolding it and setting it next to the current sheet.

The beginning notes were identical. From the many times Raine had erased and rewritten and decided which fit best, it all looked the same. Raine hastily looked between the papers, finding only slight notes off from each other, too similar to be a different song. Had they written a song from someone else? Did one of their students make this–?

Raine stood, chair screeching against the ground, grabbing the sheet and putting it on the edge of their desk, hastily summoning their viola. They had barely any practice that day, and their fingers were a bit clumsy as they hastily got into position, reading over the notes again and again to be doubly sure.

Even still, they played.

It wasn’t perfect, they stumbled here and there and hit a note too high on one occasion. But that ache in their head returned, which only served to spur them on.

Their fingers lay across the movements as though they had a dozen times, a remembrance settled into that would’ve been easier if Raine could get out of the millions of thoughts running through their head and focus for once.

Before the last note was even done echoing in the room, Raine quickly set their viola aside and reached across the desk, rummaging in the drawer they didn’t shut and withdrawing the tape, hitting play before they could even bring up the sheet to inspect and tap to the beat.

Sure enough, the same exact song, almost to a T, was repeated to them. Each note on the sheet matched the song, matched to what they had just played.

A harsh pang in their head, and they gritted their teeth and pressed one hand to their temple.

You have to have the sheet music somewhere, you played it without hesitation.

When did they forget that? It’d been only last night, how could they have already–?

Raine harshly set the tape down, placing their hands on the desk and staring. They itched to reach for their flask, to calm the headache, but a part of them worried they’d forget all of this if they dared look away. Maybe they would. Maybe their concussion was more serious than they thought, or they’d had one strange set of amnesia, because they hadn’t played this before, but clearly they must have, because this was a folder of music they made, they checked the name of it, and when would any of their students have time to make a copy?

Who was it Eda had mentioned? She mentioned a student, and Raine wracked their brain for a name that wouldn’t come. Had Eda played a dangerous spell with one of their students? Why would one of their students ever be working with her? It was far-fetched, so that only left–

“What in the world have you seen, Eda?” Raine murmured, standing up straighter, jaw setting.

Eda knew a bad lie a mile away. Raine knew a sincere Eda over a deceitful one all too well. And yet, Eda had spun the most ridiculous tale they’d heard, and Raine had ignored the confliction on her face and brushed it off as what? A midlife crisis?

Raine sighed, resisted putting their face in their hands, and snatched the music sheet and tape off the table. They’d done enough work today, they could afford to go home early.

Eda was going to come by for a copy of that tape, and Raine wasn’t going to keep her waiting.

They had a conversation to do-over.

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