Mad Circus Readings
folder
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,446
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Category:
Original - Misc › -Slash - Male/Male
Rating:
Adult ++
Chapters:
2
Views:
1,446
Reviews:
7
Recommended:
0
Currently Reading:
0
Disclaimer:
This is a work of fiction. Any resemblance of characters to actual persons, living or dead, is purely coincidental. The Author holds exclusive rights to this work. Unauthorized duplication is prohibited.
Dregs of Tea
A/N: Heh heh heh. A really short chapter. But better than nothing. I hope. (I actually didn't know it was THIS short. Hrm)
///
Dimitri turns off the television as soon as I walk into the living room, leaving us in an unbearable silence. I'm staring at the chipped tea mug, heavy in my hand. It has a ruffled looking bird on it, and says “Paraguay” in jumpy letters near the rim. It strikes me as a little funny that Dimitri, although he looks more ordinary than he had at the fair, has a collection of mugs from random places. Like he's a true gypsy – a traveler of sorts.
“You quit your job at the fair?” I start, but he just stares at me, vague annoyance in those wide eyes.
“Yes,” his voice a little boyish, matching the wiriness of his body and if I had to guess, I would have thought he was still in high school. “I usually leave my home once I meet a grim client, in case it leaks over and it effects my aura.” He says this all seriously, and then blows on his steaming tea before looking at me in something close to disdain. “I didn't expect it to happen so fast, it usually takes months at least. I can't afford to move yet.” His expression doesn't change, as if this is all my fault.
I sip my drink cautiously, to avoid replying for a minute. “Well, look. Clearly this isn't a joke to you, but think about it. There's no way I'm a bad omen, and if you would just admit that all of this is just a hoax--”
Dimitri's eyes, slightly almond shaped to begin with, tilt as he smiles. It's triumph, not joy that brings it on. “You're a believer.” He makes me uncomfortable by shifting his gaze up and down, regarding me closely. “Well, good,” he murmurs, “then maybe you can be saved. But you have to follow all my instructions. You're the worst I've seen.”
I glare. I'm not a believer, I'm just vulnerable. But I can't help it – I nod. “What other grim fortunes do you see then, if I'm the worse you've seen?”
The boy's smile drops and he looks serious again. It's chilling, an ability to look thoughtful and convincing about the most ridiculous conversation I have ever had. “Regular things. Bad luck with love,” I scoff quietly, and he looks at me. We lock gazes, and I awkwardly apologize by sitting next to him on the sofa, looking intent. “Money and fortune, family, intelligence. Never death.”
We're quiet then because Dimitri seems to want to say nothing else, and I'm starting to fall under his trap. I'm starting to worry.
When he finishes his tea, Dimitri leans his head back on the sofa for a few seconds, and then as if burned, sits straight up again. I think to myself that he probably doesn't want to get too comfortable with someone he regards as a murderer in his house.
“I know someone, she can help. But, she lives in Ashton.” Dimitri glances at me from the corner of his eyes and I know I look disgruntled. Ashton is a shady town, very nearly a ghost town, but not because of any threatening incident. Most of the residents are homeless, and most of the homes are shared between them. Ashton is the way it is because most of the people who lived there once, uprooted to start farms. They live in acreages miles away from that hole, leaving it rotting in the hands of whoever was left.
It's two hours away if I'm speeding. “Uh, look. I really don't want to travel for hours just to arrive at some pothole of a city. Do you know anyone in Seawall?”
Dimitri's eyes look softer than usual, and I'm a little perplexed until he answers. “How many soul cleansers do you know in Seawall, hm?” I make an incoherent noise, not sure if this is rhetorical, and he smiles a bit. “I know just as many.”
He stands up, and shucks off his moccasins. I figure it's too hot for them, because it really is. It's sweltering, and the building is stuffy, and old, and there's definitely no air conditioning. I'm about to follow him, but his voice rings out from what I can sort of see is the kitchen. He's making more tea, and I grimace, not ready to admit to someone this crazy that I don't really like what seems to be a staple in his diet.
“Sheba's an orphan,” he says simply, and I can't see him, but I can hear him opening drawers and moving around. “She's fifteen, I met her when I lived in Ashton for a while.” His voice grows quiet, as if he's waiting for me to ask what he was doing in a town like that. Tactfully, I stay quiet.
He seems pleased when he continues. “She'll know how to treat you, but you have to promise to follow exactly what she says.” This seems to be important, because he walks out of the kitchen to stare at me intensely. “Half the procedure is calling bad energy toward you, before you can banish of it. If you don't follow through all the way, you'll be worse than dead.”
My head is spinning. Just two weeks ago, my head hurt because of physics, and now it's due to whimsical discussions about auras, and fifteen-year-old orphans that live isolated in a grungy town. “It won't take long, will it? I mean, we'll get there, write down a procedure and I can come home and everything's good, right?”
Dimitri sighs. He's finally done and walks out of the kitchen, his jeans swishing together a little has he approaches, and his bare feet pawing the floor quietly. “Cleansing is most definitely not just writing down a procedure. It'll take some time. Days, or weeks. Or months.” I gape, but he tilts his head to one side, and the look he sends me makes my complaints die in my throat.
“I have to get back to school. My mom will worry about me! This is supposed to be a vacation.” I know I'm complaining, and I'm fine with that.
He chews his lip thoughtfully, before relenting. “Okay, we'll stay at Ashton for a day or two, and I'll try my best to help you when we get back to Seawall with Sheba's instructions.” He looks really worried, and the concern on his face makes me feel some surge of gratitude.
“Thanks,” I murmur. Because the thought of staying in Ashton for any amount of time, let alone months, is daunting and disagreeable. But suddenly, I raise a brow. “We?”
Dimitri waves a hand dismissively, but I can see his cheeks warm up. I think that, besides his clients, and his strange friends, he doesn't have normal companions over a lot. “Well? Do you want to go looking for Sheba alone? You'd probably end up dead with your luck, if you did.”
I smirk, because it's all so unbelievable and I'm just a normal guy. I don't wear kohl, or scarves, or own a crystal ball. I'm not exotic or alluring in anyway. And here I am, staring at the dregs in my mug, watched by the glazed bird on its side, ready to take a strange boy to a stranger town to cleanse my soul.
What the hell.
TBC
///
Dimitri turns off the television as soon as I walk into the living room, leaving us in an unbearable silence. I'm staring at the chipped tea mug, heavy in my hand. It has a ruffled looking bird on it, and says “Paraguay” in jumpy letters near the rim. It strikes me as a little funny that Dimitri, although he looks more ordinary than he had at the fair, has a collection of mugs from random places. Like he's a true gypsy – a traveler of sorts.
“You quit your job at the fair?” I start, but he just stares at me, vague annoyance in those wide eyes.
“Yes,” his voice a little boyish, matching the wiriness of his body and if I had to guess, I would have thought he was still in high school. “I usually leave my home once I meet a grim client, in case it leaks over and it effects my aura.” He says this all seriously, and then blows on his steaming tea before looking at me in something close to disdain. “I didn't expect it to happen so fast, it usually takes months at least. I can't afford to move yet.” His expression doesn't change, as if this is all my fault.
I sip my drink cautiously, to avoid replying for a minute. “Well, look. Clearly this isn't a joke to you, but think about it. There's no way I'm a bad omen, and if you would just admit that all of this is just a hoax--”
Dimitri's eyes, slightly almond shaped to begin with, tilt as he smiles. It's triumph, not joy that brings it on. “You're a believer.” He makes me uncomfortable by shifting his gaze up and down, regarding me closely. “Well, good,” he murmurs, “then maybe you can be saved. But you have to follow all my instructions. You're the worst I've seen.”
I glare. I'm not a believer, I'm just vulnerable. But I can't help it – I nod. “What other grim fortunes do you see then, if I'm the worse you've seen?”
The boy's smile drops and he looks serious again. It's chilling, an ability to look thoughtful and convincing about the most ridiculous conversation I have ever had. “Regular things. Bad luck with love,” I scoff quietly, and he looks at me. We lock gazes, and I awkwardly apologize by sitting next to him on the sofa, looking intent. “Money and fortune, family, intelligence. Never death.”
We're quiet then because Dimitri seems to want to say nothing else, and I'm starting to fall under his trap. I'm starting to worry.
When he finishes his tea, Dimitri leans his head back on the sofa for a few seconds, and then as if burned, sits straight up again. I think to myself that he probably doesn't want to get too comfortable with someone he regards as a murderer in his house.
“I know someone, she can help. But, she lives in Ashton.” Dimitri glances at me from the corner of his eyes and I know I look disgruntled. Ashton is a shady town, very nearly a ghost town, but not because of any threatening incident. Most of the residents are homeless, and most of the homes are shared between them. Ashton is the way it is because most of the people who lived there once, uprooted to start farms. They live in acreages miles away from that hole, leaving it rotting in the hands of whoever was left.
It's two hours away if I'm speeding. “Uh, look. I really don't want to travel for hours just to arrive at some pothole of a city. Do you know anyone in Seawall?”
Dimitri's eyes look softer than usual, and I'm a little perplexed until he answers. “How many soul cleansers do you know in Seawall, hm?” I make an incoherent noise, not sure if this is rhetorical, and he smiles a bit. “I know just as many.”
He stands up, and shucks off his moccasins. I figure it's too hot for them, because it really is. It's sweltering, and the building is stuffy, and old, and there's definitely no air conditioning. I'm about to follow him, but his voice rings out from what I can sort of see is the kitchen. He's making more tea, and I grimace, not ready to admit to someone this crazy that I don't really like what seems to be a staple in his diet.
“Sheba's an orphan,” he says simply, and I can't see him, but I can hear him opening drawers and moving around. “She's fifteen, I met her when I lived in Ashton for a while.” His voice grows quiet, as if he's waiting for me to ask what he was doing in a town like that. Tactfully, I stay quiet.
He seems pleased when he continues. “She'll know how to treat you, but you have to promise to follow exactly what she says.” This seems to be important, because he walks out of the kitchen to stare at me intensely. “Half the procedure is calling bad energy toward you, before you can banish of it. If you don't follow through all the way, you'll be worse than dead.”
My head is spinning. Just two weeks ago, my head hurt because of physics, and now it's due to whimsical discussions about auras, and fifteen-year-old orphans that live isolated in a grungy town. “It won't take long, will it? I mean, we'll get there, write down a procedure and I can come home and everything's good, right?”
Dimitri sighs. He's finally done and walks out of the kitchen, his jeans swishing together a little has he approaches, and his bare feet pawing the floor quietly. “Cleansing is most definitely not just writing down a procedure. It'll take some time. Days, or weeks. Or months.” I gape, but he tilts his head to one side, and the look he sends me makes my complaints die in my throat.
“I have to get back to school. My mom will worry about me! This is supposed to be a vacation.” I know I'm complaining, and I'm fine with that.
He chews his lip thoughtfully, before relenting. “Okay, we'll stay at Ashton for a day or two, and I'll try my best to help you when we get back to Seawall with Sheba's instructions.” He looks really worried, and the concern on his face makes me feel some surge of gratitude.
“Thanks,” I murmur. Because the thought of staying in Ashton for any amount of time, let alone months, is daunting and disagreeable. But suddenly, I raise a brow. “We?”
Dimitri waves a hand dismissively, but I can see his cheeks warm up. I think that, besides his clients, and his strange friends, he doesn't have normal companions over a lot. “Well? Do you want to go looking for Sheba alone? You'd probably end up dead with your luck, if you did.”
I smirk, because it's all so unbelievable and I'm just a normal guy. I don't wear kohl, or scarves, or own a crystal ball. I'm not exotic or alluring in anyway. And here I am, staring at the dregs in my mug, watched by the glazed bird on its side, ready to take a strange boy to a stranger town to cleanse my soul.
What the hell.
TBC