avatar_Neyen Suarez

Tell me will I be happy?

Started by Neyen Suarez, Mar 29, 2019, 10:22 AM

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#15
Sorin labored under a stack of books, having extracted them from the old trunk in the back of the tent. He staggered as he shouldered aside the tent flap and, expecting no help from his brother, brought them over to the low-slung table. "Here... are the tomes," he sighed as he finally unloaded them.

Tomes was a bit of a stretch, though. They looked ancient because they'd been purchased at a garage sale some years back. Sorin doubted they were anything but sham picture books, though a few had quite authentic-looking diagrams. The language inside was like nothing he'd ever seen before, which helped the illusion. He imagined it was Arabic, or some form of Asian text.

As he straightened, he finally noticed the tall man who had come seeking his fortune. Sorin's mouth fell open. There was an aura so intensely dark that it drew in all of the light around him. He'd never seen anything so terrible in his life but before he could say anything, another man briskly strode in and laid a hand on him.

"Here now, you must wait your turn, sir!" Sorin's brother stood up--no less tall than the other two, making Sorin feel like the short end of the stick all around. "You can't do this! Unhand my client!"

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"Yeah, RAI, unhand me!" Neyen pried his hand over his brother's on his neck so that he could extricate himself. Fuck, what the fuck was his goddamn problem? Just busting in here and ruining any chance he had to follow his leads! Neyen hadn't even been able to figure out if he was dealing with real magic or mysticism because of Rai's rude arrival.

"Get out of here," he hissed through his teeth, trying to push Rai out. "I have important business."

"No," Rai said, with that Look in his eye that meant he thought he knew better and he was trying to Save Little Brother. Neyen moved away from him and closer to the fortune teller.

"Get out, Rai. I'm fine. I'll find you later."

Rai looked ready to fight but a couple of men in rent-a-cop suits arrived. Neyen smirked. Security. They identified themselves and told Rai they would have to escort him out--all the way out of the festival. Neyen continued to smirk as Rai was led out. Well. That was what he got for pushing his way into his damn business. Once that was taken care of, Neyen turned to the two men in the tent.

"I apologize. My brother's a little... paranoid about psychics."

If Sorin ever thought that his family was dysfunctional, he had never had cause to call security on his brother. Nor had he ever seen his brother dragged forcibly from a tent. Before the flaps fell down, he saw an angry woman outside accosting the security guards. Then their collective raised voices faded as presumably the trouble-makers were escorted off the premises.

"Not at all, not at all. We can't choose family, can we?" Marius looked at Sorin like that comment was meant for him, but his smile was teasing. The number of times that Sorin insisted he was adopted when he was younger—wishing, hoping, praying that he was...

He never belonged with them. His mother and brother and aunt loved him but he also had a strange feeling that they also merely tolerated him. It was a strange mix; it seemed counter-intuitive, to be loved and also barely tolerated. Sometimes Sorin was sure his mother looked at him funny, that there was suspicion, maybe even fear in her gaze.

"Please, have a seat." Marius gestured to the seat opposite him, while Sorin hovered anxiously.

That aura. That terrible aura, he couldn't simply let this man go without at least warning him... But awkward with strangers and not knowing what the best way was to approach this morbid topic, Sorin was hard-pressed to speak up. Plus, his brother was looking pointedly at him, hinting that his usefulness was over.

"I'll... be outside," he muttered quietly, as if to no one in particular. After sending the ill-fated man a desperate pleading look, Sorin stepped outside.

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He didn't know when he'd next see his brother and Mari, since they were being taken off the grounds. They probably would wait a while but some part of Neyen didn't plan to be caught again. He worked better on his own, he learned that when they were separated before. They didn't work the same way anymore.

Neyen saw the way the psychic looked at the other man in the tent when he spoke and he got the feeling they, too, had a rocky sibling relationship. Neyen half smiled at the other man but he couldn't tell if he understood the meaning in his smile or not. Turning his attention back to the psychic, Neyen obliged him and had a seat.

But not before he exchanged a look with the other man. What did that look mean? It was like he wanted to say something but somebody was stopping him. Hm. Neyen made a point to note in the back of his mind that he should visit that guy before he left the festival. But for now, he looked over the psychic, trying to decide if he was real or not.

"So... what do you know, then?"

Sorin knew the spiel and the act by heart now. His brother would consult the 'tomes.' Then would come the tarot cards, carefully weathered to look ancient—even though when they bought it from the craft and hobby store, it was shiny and colorful and new.

If his brother knew anything, it was how to read people. But the man inside the tent was different. He seemed more knowledgeable than the average giggling girl and his confidence showed. Who was he? And why was his brother so intent on stopping him?

What were the ancients that he asked about?

Keeping an ear to the tent, Sorin heard his brother speaking, saying that he needed to consult the tomes. He heard the flipping of pages, a low murmur and hum, and then he was launching into a wild guess. A dearly beloved deceased—he could see it in the man's eyes. Grief. He wanted to contact his loved one again. Perhaps a grandparent?

Sorin sighed and turned away. Normally his brother guessed correctly; he had that uncanny knack for hitting on just the right note. But today, perhaps not so much. Maybe the commotion flustered him and took him off-guard.

"Why's he standing there? So creepy?"

He distinctly heard a woman muttering to her friend. Sorin looked at her, holding his silent gaze a tick too long. She gave him a disgusted look and he quickly turned away, half-hiding behind the side of the tent to wait for the man inside to come out.

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Oh. For fuck's sake. After suffering through an obviously practiced little drama, Neyen stood up, eyes blazing. Of all the places, he thought this would be the one. There were things here, in this tiny little town--secrets in every corner, skeletons in every closet. And he ended up with this good-for-nothing charlatan. His lip curled slightly as he stared at the so-called psychic.

"You're wrong. Everything you just said. You're full of shit."

He was a fake. A fraud. A goddamned phony. And for two seconds, Neyen almost bought into the bullshit. But he wasn't one of those giggling girls looking for love fortunes or those older women who thought they had to know every little thing about the future. (Hey, it wasn't him being misogynistic--look at that line out there and it was almost all women!)

Flinging the curtain aside, he stormed outside, annoyed that he wasted his time on another fake. Why was it so damned hard to find a real psychic in a place like this?!

In-dig-nation!

Sorin heard it in both the stranger's voice and in his older brother's, who demanded payment as the flap of the tent was shoved violently aside. It hit Sorin full on in the face and he wrestled with it for a brief few seconds before hurrying after the irate stranger.

"Wait! Wait!" He cried out—his legs were shorter and although he ran, he was hindered by the crowd. At last, Sorin caught up and reached out reflexively to halt him, placing a hand on his arm. "Wait I have to—"

He froze. The darkness that enveloped the man also swallowed him, until all he saw was nothingness. Black. Cold, deep, swirling. The darkness took over his vision, creeping over his eyes; it seeped into his ears, into his mouth, into his lungs until he couldn't speak or breathe.

Gasping like a fish out of water, his fingers convulsed around the man's arm. When the darkness suddenly lifted, he gasped again, filling his lungs with cool, clean air. "Water. Don't go near the water. Whatever you do—" Sorin's voice rose to a near-hysterical pitch. "Don't go near the water!"

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Was somebody talking to him? Neyen turned to see that the other guy, the one giving him weird looks in the tent, was now chasing him down. But something happened. When he touched Neyen, he seemed to freeze. Neyen stared at him as he seemed to come out of what appeared to be a legitimate trance or vision. He's a real one! A real psychic! Neyen grasped onto the man with both hands, wrapping his fingers around the man's forearms.

"What?" That sounded like a warning from a real vision, too. This guy was either a damn good liar or he had real talent. This was what he'd been looking for! But... after the initial excitement, the reality and weight of the words began to sink in. Neyen's grip on the man slackened.

"What?" he said again. "What water?"

It was impossible to stay away from all water everywhere. He had to bathe. He had to brush his teeth. Water as a word by itself was so vague. It could mean anything.

"I'm not sure." Sorin breathed in deeply. The grip of the man's hands on his arms brought him back to reality but he was unsettled by the lingering sensation of water in his lungs and not enough air to breathe.

"It was deep water. Like a lake, or an ocean. Not... a bath or a shower or anything." That would be ridiculous, for such a terrible, dark aura to be associated with something as mundane as a shower. It was a large body of water; this man was going to drown if he wasn't careful.

Sorin gently tried to extricate himself. Being touched was uncomfortable, mostly because of the visions—and also because he was alone so often that people made him edgy and nervous. "Be careful, okay? I know it sounds crazy but please, avoid the water."

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So big water. Ocean. Lake. Neyen frowned.

"Wait. Is that all you know?" he asked. It was so vague, but that was how true visions tended to be, from Neyen's limited experience with psychics. Usually whatever they had to say only made sense after the fact. It was pretty frustrating to look back and realize that he should have known. Why did psychic visions have to be a puzzle? Why couldn't they just be more forthright?!

"Listen," he said. "I'm going to be here a while and I might need your help. If you have any more weird visions, I need you to contact me..." He started to grab a pen from his travel bag but thought better of it. "You have a cell phone right?"

#25
"Yes, that's all. I'm sorry, I know it sounds absurd..."

Sorin shuddered as he recalled the haunting sensation of water entering his lungs. Water, water everywhere, filling his eyes, ears, nostrils and mouth. Water flooding into every orifice, a stifling force that couldn't be fought. That was the worst part--the helplessness that he felt. Even knowing that it was a vision, it still terrified him.

"Uh--I'm--yes, I have a phone, but why--" As he stammered his confusion aloud, Sorin was pulling out his phone. He was used to obeying others; his brother, his mother and his aunt all had dominant personalities and Sorin often found himself on the wrong end of a barked order. Not that they treated him like a slave, but he definitely had very little say in the running of their troupe. Now he obeyed commands automatically.

"What do you need my help with? Do you know something?" He paused with his finger on the lock screen, staring at the black aura that shimmered around the man. "Is it... because of your aura? Do you know how dark your fate is?"

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Maybe it sounded absurd to most people but it sure didn't sound absurd to Neyen. This was the real deal, what he had been searching out in this little hick town. Now that he was here and he had what he wanted, he needed to keep this guy close. He needed him. Although he definitely got the feeling that the twitchy guy wanted no part in any of this, he had come forward to try and warn Neyen. So now he was in on on this with him. Neyen passed his phone immediately over to the guy, the new contact page already open for him.

He waited impatiently for the other to pass his phone to him but he paused with his damn finger on the lock screen. Even if Neyen grabbed it now, he wouldn't have access. Letting out a huff, he tapped the phone with his free hand, the one that wasn't shoving his own phone into the other man's hand.

"Know something about what, exactly?" Neyen asked. And then he watched the guy staring past him--or around him. Neyen frowned. "What are you talking about?"

"Oh, sorry. Here." Sorin unlocked his phone and handed it over since it was being impatiently asked for. He put in his phone number and also his name, Sorin, and handed it back. "I meant your aura. Your..." He ran a hand over the space before the other man as if to illustrate his point, that a black aura existed which no one but himself could see.

In retrospect, it made him sound a bit touched in the head.

"...I see auras," he mumbled a bit defensively. "Dark auras. It means something terrible's going to happen if it's a black aura and yours is very dark." His brows creased into a frown as he studied the man. The water had something to do with his aura, Sorin was sure of it. He was meant to stop this man from dying—from drowning.

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"Only dark auras?" Neyen asked as he entered the information in the phone handed to him. The guy was mumbling again, like he could barely get his words out. Neyen glanced up at him and then back down at the phone as he finished typing in his name and shit. What he was hearing was worrisome but Neyen wasn't like his brother. That sort of shit didn't really sink in and he didn't start panicking over the little things. Sure, he might have some dark ass aura surrounding him like a storm cloud but what did that even really mean? Snapping a quick picture of himself for the contact information, he handed the phone back to the guy, who was studying him like some amoeba under a microscope.

"So what're you saying? What do the auras mean? Where do they come from? Like am I cursed by a magic spell or is it just my fate?"

The thing was, it could be anything from where he stood. Magic was real; he knew that already. But was it magic or just fate itself wrapping its fingers around his throat? That was the part that was important. If it was magic, it could just be dispelled by somebody or something. But fate was trickier to work with.

"Is it because I'm looking into the ancients?" he asked, deciding to just say it outright--because yes, he was doing something not so great for longevity. A lot of people went looking for what he was looking for--and a lot of people died without answers.

"I don't know." These were natural questions regarding the dark aura and Sorin had no idea how to explain what he saw. He saw what he saw. He saw it. The ominous shadow that enveloped... He glanced down at his phone and saw 'Neyen' displayed in his contacts. The ominous shadow that enveloped Neyen couldn't be explained.

Sorin's limited experience with the supernatural was grounded in the sham displays that his mother, aunt and older brother put on. As someone who worked behind the scenes, he always thought that... well, magic was a hoax. The 'clairvoyance' that they boasted about in flashy banners and mysterious flyers was simply a sharp eye and a swift intelligence. His family were clever, no doubt about that, but none of the had a lick of magical ability.

And then there was Sorin, the black sheep. He couldn't even really say when he began to see auras. One day, it happened. He looked up and saw a woman and all of a sudden the world faded until only she stood out in the center of his mind's eye. He saw her future as clearly as a television programme--except more vivid, more detailed, more disturbing.

"I don't know if it has anything to do with your... ancients," he said in a quieter mumble still, shrinking from the flurry of questions. "I'm sorry, I just see what I see. And--"

From behind him, he heard his brother calling and his tone was impatient. Sorin looked over his shoulder; the flap of the tent moved as his brother ducked back behind it, no doubt to cater to another customer. "I-I need to go back." He gestured to the tent as if Neyen couldn't tell that he was needed back there.