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Title: The Chances Look Small, The Choices Look Grim
Fandom: Original Characters
Pairing/Characters: Billy & Alice
Rating: G
Content Notes: Some supernatural-compulsion type things.
Prompt: 4 & 5 - in the woods
Billy likes to think of himself as a modern kind of demigod. He doesn’t hang around literal crossroads these days, not the way he once did. He lets them come to him, more often than not. People slide into his bar looking, and he’ll tell them how to find someone who can help, and if they choose to follow his instructions, he’ll offer a deal.
The ritual’s not, strictly speaking, necessary to make things work, but he’s never liked feeling like he’s tricking people into deals. The prices get too steep, too fast; people get neck-deep before they realize they owe anything. This way, they go in eyes-open, asking openly and aware of what he is before they say yes.
All this to say, if Billy hangs around the woods, these days, he’s probably just camping.
But none of that keeps his senses from working properly. He can feel the pulsing need coming from somewhere not far from him, taste the fact that someone’s desperate in the air. He’s been trying to ignore it since he woke up, but it doesn’t seem like the searcher is moving along, and eventually it’s easier just to give into the instinct and hop in the car.
It doesn’t take long. As soon as the trees are in sight, he can practically see the need hovering like a heat haze. The young woman giving it off sits on a bench in the middle of a clearing, her hands flexing uselessly against her jeans, her face a mess of exhausted anger.
There’s no breeze, but the trees all around this clearing are shaking like they’re caught in something; Billy looks up at them thoughtfully, and then back at the woman.
“Is that you?” he asks, in the calmest voice he can. She jumps anyway, and the trees shake even more violently for a moment, dumping a particularly large load of leaves on the forest floor.
Instead of answering, she frowns. “Who are you?”
He takes a small step into the clearing proper; she tenses, but doesn’t move. “My name’s Billy. I’m — someone who can help,” he says, and holds his arms out. She didn’t do the ritual, and it takes a moment of focus to bring the normally-invisible marks into physical form, glowing softly as the lines become clear across his skin.
She’s already looking at his arms, like she’s trying to understand the gesture, and there’s a spark of interest when she sees the shift. There’s still wariness in the way she frowns, the way her hands clench against her legs — he doesn’t think she understands, exactly, but she’s not running, and after a moment, she asks softly, “Help how?”
“Or someone who can try, anyway,” he says, because he doesn’t want to let her down, if the price ends up being too steeps. He takes another step in, and this time she doesn’t react, which feels like progress. “So. Are the trees you?”
She looks at him for another long moment, completely still, and he tries to look as non-threatening as he can. “Yes,” she says finally, letting out a long breath and looking around. “I couldn’t hold it in.”
“Is that what you need help with?”
She shakes her head, first, and then laughs, a hollow, bitter thing. Her hands come up to cover her face, pressing over her eyes; they’re trembling, like the trees. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know. Everything’s… everything’s a fucking mess.”
“Hey,” he says, soft and soothing as he moves closer. She startles as he sits next to her on the bench, but only a little; there’s the possibility of a deal in the air, and whatever she is that can affect the woods, she’s also human enough to respond to him. She sways in towards him without seeming to realize it, and the shimmering haze of need around her is starting to change, shot through with threads of desperate hope. “It’s okay. You can tell me about it, and we’ll see if we can work something out.”
“Work something out?”
“That’s what I do. I help people who need it. I make arrangements, and there’s a lot I can try, if you’re willing to tell me.” She nods, and he smiles. “Okay then. What’s your name, to start with?”
“Alice,” she says. Her eyes are starting to look a little glazed, her voice a little distant, the compulsion to tell him so he can work out a deal settling its hooks into her now that they’re properly settling into the preliminary phases.
“Hi, Alice. Tell me what you need,” he says, and she does.
Fandom: Original Characters
Pairing/Characters: Billy & Alice
Rating: G
Content Notes: Some supernatural-compulsion type things.
Prompt: 4 & 5 - in the woods
Billy likes to think of himself as a modern kind of demigod. He doesn’t hang around literal crossroads these days, not the way he once did. He lets them come to him, more often than not. People slide into his bar looking, and he’ll tell them how to find someone who can help, and if they choose to follow his instructions, he’ll offer a deal.
The ritual’s not, strictly speaking, necessary to make things work, but he’s never liked feeling like he’s tricking people into deals. The prices get too steep, too fast; people get neck-deep before they realize they owe anything. This way, they go in eyes-open, asking openly and aware of what he is before they say yes.
All this to say, if Billy hangs around the woods, these days, he’s probably just camping.
But none of that keeps his senses from working properly. He can feel the pulsing need coming from somewhere not far from him, taste the fact that someone’s desperate in the air. He’s been trying to ignore it since he woke up, but it doesn’t seem like the searcher is moving along, and eventually it’s easier just to give into the instinct and hop in the car.
It doesn’t take long. As soon as the trees are in sight, he can practically see the need hovering like a heat haze. The young woman giving it off sits on a bench in the middle of a clearing, her hands flexing uselessly against her jeans, her face a mess of exhausted anger.
There’s no breeze, but the trees all around this clearing are shaking like they’re caught in something; Billy looks up at them thoughtfully, and then back at the woman.
“Is that you?” he asks, in the calmest voice he can. She jumps anyway, and the trees shake even more violently for a moment, dumping a particularly large load of leaves on the forest floor.
Instead of answering, she frowns. “Who are you?”
He takes a small step into the clearing proper; she tenses, but doesn’t move. “My name’s Billy. I’m — someone who can help,” he says, and holds his arms out. She didn’t do the ritual, and it takes a moment of focus to bring the normally-invisible marks into physical form, glowing softly as the lines become clear across his skin.
She’s already looking at his arms, like she’s trying to understand the gesture, and there’s a spark of interest when she sees the shift. There’s still wariness in the way she frowns, the way her hands clench against her legs — he doesn’t think she understands, exactly, but she’s not running, and after a moment, she asks softly, “Help how?”
“Or someone who can try, anyway,” he says, because he doesn’t want to let her down, if the price ends up being too steeps. He takes another step in, and this time she doesn’t react, which feels like progress. “So. Are the trees you?”
She looks at him for another long moment, completely still, and he tries to look as non-threatening as he can. “Yes,” she says finally, letting out a long breath and looking around. “I couldn’t hold it in.”
“Is that what you need help with?”
She shakes her head, first, and then laughs, a hollow, bitter thing. Her hands come up to cover her face, pressing over her eyes; they’re trembling, like the trees. “I mean… maybe? I don’t know. Everything’s… everything’s a fucking mess.”
“Hey,” he says, soft and soothing as he moves closer. She startles as he sits next to her on the bench, but only a little; there’s the possibility of a deal in the air, and whatever she is that can affect the woods, she’s also human enough to respond to him. She sways in towards him without seeming to realize it, and the shimmering haze of need around her is starting to change, shot through with threads of desperate hope. “It’s okay. You can tell me about it, and we’ll see if we can work something out.”
“Work something out?”
“That’s what I do. I help people who need it. I make arrangements, and there’s a lot I can try, if you’re willing to tell me.” She nods, and he smiles. “Okay then. What’s your name, to start with?”
“Alice,” she says. Her eyes are starting to look a little glazed, her voice a little distant, the compulsion to tell him so he can work out a deal settling its hooks into her now that they’re properly settling into the preliminary phases.
“Hi, Alice. Tell me what you need,” he says, and she does.