DARCEY REID
Warlock
Posts: 59
Played by:
Julia
"The thought of this was heavenly at first, now it's where Hell will be."
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 23:19:14 GMT
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knots
Mar 28, 2022 14:37:37 GMT
ANGE likes this
Post by DARCEY REID on Mar 28, 2022 14:37:37 GMT
 ━ there is good in my heart, but these hands belong to the devil ━
He’d also come without his ring. It didn’t make this dinner with Sadie mean anything (though it was the first time since Lorna’s death that he’d removed it), Darcey merely thought that he’d be cooking a lot, working with his hands, and it might be better without it. Just for the night. It still hurt to peel it from his finger and leave it on his nightstand.
The timer dinged loudly, sounding out the end of the roast’s time in the oven (if he wanted it medium rare, perfectly cooked and not dried-out). Tearing himself from the gravy (it was half purchased and half from the roast, but sue him. Darcey was sure it would taste the same), he threw on the oven mitts and dragged the roast out of the oven, setting it on a safe, heat-protected spot on the table. “Watch yerself,” He mumbled to Sadie, only peeling back the covering to stick a thermometer in (to be sure they wouldn’t get food poisoning, his mum was adamant on this step) before sealing it back up. He tried not to bother her too much while he was trudging around her kitchen, considering the only reason for cooking this meal was his constant help while she wrote her book. Darcey didn’t mind answering questions about home. Really, it was nice to remember, and while at first he’d been a little standoffish, as it always brought him back to Lorna, it had become a sort of therapy. Facing his feelings and talking through them instead of constantly shying away allowed him to come to terms with what’d happened. It didn’t hurt so much anymore.
He and Sadie had become a little closer, as well. It was nice to have a friend in Mystic Falls who wasn’t his sibling, one he’d found all on his own━though the circumstances of their meeting weren’t exactly positive. Darcey thought they’d turned it around, though━they hadn’t come across a fight together since that night, which some might say was progress (though Darcey still itched for it).
Adding another teaspoon of flour to thicken the gravy, Darcey diligently followed instructions: stir constantly. Of course, until the Yorkshire puddings were ready to come out, and he did not want to burn those. Once it was all set out, he had the gravy in a little boat he’d purchased for tonight, Yorkshire puddings, and roast beef with the potatoes, carrots, and broccoli having cooked beneath it. “Ta-da!” Raising his lanky arms, a tea towel in one hand and an oven mitt covering the other, he held them out to the sides to announce his completion. “An English roast dinner, complete with Yorkies an’ gravy.” Darcey said proudly, dropping his arms━save for motioning to her writing. “Put that ‘way now. Dad used to yell at us that it was goin’ to get cold if we weren’t at the table three seconds after my mum called out.” He chuckled at the memory, lifting the cover off the roast and dropping the towel and oven mitt by the sink before setting out two plates.
And, finally, Darcey started cutting up the roast, grinning at its perfectly pink centre and the way the juice dribbled from it as his knife went through. “‘Ow many pieces ya want?” Hopefully, she’d have some leftovers by the end, too (if she liked it). Darcey wanted her to be able to feed herself for the next day or so and not have to worry about spending money on groceries. This was his gift, and he hoped it kept on giving.
SADIE VALENCIA |  |
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SADIE VALENCIA
Human
Posts: 100
Age:
28
Occupation:
Author
Status:
Single
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 1, 2024 17:05:25 GMT
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Post by SADIE VALENCIA on Apr 23, 2022 16:08:18 GMT
She wasn’t quite sure how the barter system worked in England but this seemed … wrong. Her getting the crap kicked out of Darcey, her plundering his brain, him cooking her a banquet fit for a queen. Each time it seemed like she was the one really getting something out of this. Sadie knew better than to look a gift horse in the mouth but a half dozen times while he’d been pottering around in her kitchen she’d found herself watching him instead of looking at the screen where the accusing little cursor blinked furiously until she’d taken up typing again. She had to appease the publishing Gods if she wanted to be picked up on another contract after her current one ended with this book.
If she ended up down the rabbit hole she’d poked her nose into like Alice maybe there’d be a caveat to it. First dibs on the new side line that was fleshing itself out in the tangled marketplace that had grown up in what had once been the Old City Hall subway stop. The stalls crowded in along the platforms looked nothing like the Google Street View depiction of the Reids’ shop in Camden – alright, maybe she’d been a little nosy in dropping the little dude there on the map but she’d already peppered Darcey with questions about it, and the store here in Mystic Falls, while he’d been mixing up what almost looked like pancake batter for the Yorkshire puddings. Yorkies, not Yorkshire puddings.
She raked her teeth over her lower lip as the fact struck back, smoothly flipping over to her notes file to tap that in – it was all flavour for the ‘merchants’ trilogy she was planning to have spin off of her series, like the meat juices that had gone into the gravy. Sadie glanced over the top of her laptop screen as Darcey abandoned it to get the roast out of the oven. It wasn’t the pasty, practically white stuff her dad’s team had always slopped down on top of toast – getting to call something shit on a shingle and not get in trouble for it hadn’t made it taste that much better – it looked rich enough to have her considering dipping a fingertip in. Maybe there’d be a corner of the market dedicated to this stuff, the last remnants of what had passed for real food. Bubbling away alongside the cauldrons of far more magical concoctions.
Huh. Sadie grinned, the image fleshing itself out as her fingers raced, her eyes only halfway on the screen. How the Reids were gonna feel about their birth right being turned into a nook filled with fae crafted items waited to be seen. Old fur coats, steamer trunks and costume jewellery with stones big enough to put your eye out weren’t the same as magical lamps that had been turned into prisons for evil doers or amulets that would protect you against the things that lurked in the night above ground. That juxtaposition of the real and familiar and the weird and wonderful was the beauty of all of it though and Darcey, with his wiry build, old world stories and rough edges had slotted right into the middle of it.
The sleepover had turned into hanging out – like she was gonna let him go when he was a gold mine of information, and when the last attempt at letting someone close when he was already in her bed had ended up with her getting burned – afternoons or nights spent at the Coffee Bean on her couch here with a notebook balanced on her knees and some sort of take out spread over her coffee table. She was no Gordon Ramsey for sure, although she’d made some pretty decent pancakes the morning after that first time, eyeing the blooming bruises on freckled skin with a critical eye when she’d set the plate down in front of him.
Now she was the one easing back at the table as the oven tray was set down in the middle of the table. Tugging the laptop out of the way just long enough. Her nose peeked over it again, her tongue pressed to the tip of one canine to watch the process with the thermometer. Fingers tapping just long enough to take notes on it, typing blind (ha! Who needed to actually look at the keys anymore?). Blue eyes swept back to the fictional depiction of the stall just long enough to miss the yorkies coming out of the oven. A little gleam of sun though the skylight, highlighting the star chart of freckles across the owner’s bare arms…
She blinked away from it as Darcey threw his arms wide – did she actually own an oven mitt or had that been something else that’d come out of the bag he’d brought like Mary Poppins style magic trick – beaming with pride. ”It looks like something out of a magazine. You, sir, are a magician.” Obediently Sadie scooped up her laptop, leaning back in her chair with it balanced on one hand to save her files and shut them down. ’No books over dinner, you can read again after’ – turned into something close to a habit when it came to eating with someone. No laptop, no drifting away from the conversation to hammer out just one more thought.
Grinning sheepishly she put it on the counter behind her, out of sight and out of reach. The writing portion of the evening was over, the furthest she was getting later was staggering to the couch, dragging him with her of course. ”My mom always went with stern looks once I actually put whatever I was reading down and noticed what was in front of me.” On the nights she’d been home. Juggling multiple jobs and all the usual mom duties hadn’t been easy. ”You guys lived above the store – the shop – right?” Street View hadn’t let her poke that far.
Sadie eyed the roast, her mouth watering. That sure as hell beat burgers from the Grill. Her eyes rolled up slowly to him, narrowing faintly in contemplation. ”If I say three is that gonna sound greedy? You know what, screw it, this is an occasion for a little greed. Three please. You want me to serve anything up? Feels like I should be doing something when you’ve Gordon Ramseyed my entire kitchen.” She definitely should’ve been taking more notes about that for her payback in this barter system they seemed to have going here. Next time – nope, nope, the next time was her cooking for him, albeit with a little more mess and a lot more chaos going into it.
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DARCEY REID
Warlock
Posts: 59
Played by:
Julia
"The thought of this was heavenly at first, now it's where Hell will be."
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 23:19:14 GMT
|
knots
May 16, 2022 16:09:27 GMT
ANGE likes this
Post by DARCEY REID on May 16, 2022 16:09:27 GMT
━ there is good in my heart, but these hands belong to the devil ━
He didn’t know what else Sadie could’ve been writing about, but he planned to educate himself. Darcey and books just… never mixed. It was the opposite with Sadie, though, who was like a book personified (not that she was boring━only that she was who he thought of any time he was reminded of reading or writing or anything slightly literature-related).
After that brief circus act, she set it aside for him, ridding herself of the laptop. Sadie made him feel like a gorilla most of the time━like he’d be bashing the keys doing the Only-Index-Finger-Type━but he could fuckin’ cook pretty damn alright, that was for sure. Alright meaning he’d completed this meal without burning anything (magically, out of frustration, or mere incompetence) and that was a miracle in and of itself.
“Always been a book worm, eh? That was Nicky f’r us, thought his ‘ead was gonna explode with all the… shit he was pilin’ into it.” Not knowledge, because the word didn’t come to him in time. Gorilla.
Setting the plates down and beginning to carve into the beast (gorillas were useful for something), Darcey grinned at her automatic correction. Shop. She was learnin’. “Yeah, I was still somehow always late openin’ on weekends with my dad, though,” Late as in trudging down, half-asleep and rubbing his eyes, with five minutes to spare before they unlocked the doors. After a second, he figured she wanted a little more, so Darcey scrambled for more words. “When ya walk into the shop, the staircase is tucked in on th’right.” He raised a hand from the roast, making it act as the stairs. “We’ve got a front room, a back bit for things that aren’t on the shelves yet…” Or things that would never be, but it wasn’t as if Sadie would fly to England and stick her nose in the back of the shop, “... Second floor is the livin’ room, kitchen━or, y’know, spot where the tea is,” To anyone else, and even normally, he wouldn’t have made the joke. But Sadie was… well, Sadie, and being American was just a tiny part of it. He gave a little wink and continued, “Follow up the staircase again an’ you’ve got the bedrooms. Now, like I said, there were three ‘f us plus our parents squeezed up there. But it weren’t long after Mandy arrived that I moved out.” He was bordering on a sensitive topic now.
Darcey focused on the meat instead, and her request for three pieces. He raised his brows and smiled but, other than that, didn’t judge or hesitate. He just hoped it was worth taking that many pieces. “Nah, nah, I’ve got this; you jus’ sit back an’ get waited on.” Flopping three slices on her plate, Darcey then scooped two spoonfuls of roasted veggies and potatoes onto it, lifted it and handed the dish to Sadie. “Jus’ grab what ya want of the rest, though,” The rest was set out in the middle of the table like this was a real family dinner━like it wasn’t just the two of them. Even he and Lorna wouldn’t have meals like this alone, not unless it was an anniversary or something special; otherwise, they’d be down the street at the family table.
“And don’t expect Gordon Ramsay-style cookin’. I promise it won’t be that good.” He wasn’t at all offended by the reference, though, especially because Gordon wasn’t a total sellout━he was still living just a few miles down the road (albeit in a posh fucking mansion, but still). Forking himself three slices as well━and some veggies etcetera━Darcey took his plate and sat on the opposite side of Sadie, gathering two Yorkshire puddings and drowning everything in gravy from the ceramic boat.
Before he could start shovelling it in his mouth like he hadn’t eaten for days, though, Darcey stopped and━fork in hand━waited (somewhat impatiently) for Sadie to have the first bite. He looked hopeful, blue eyes glimmering like a kid presenting hideous finger-painting “masterpiece.” Honestly, though, he hoped she liked it.
SADIE VALENCIA |  |
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SADIE VALENCIA
Human
Posts: 100
Age:
28
Occupation:
Author
Status:
Single
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 1, 2024 17:05:25 GMT
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Post by SADIE VALENCIA on Jun 13, 2022 21:49:23 GMT
Without Darcey going full culinary whizz on her she’d probably have made do with a bowl of ramen at the table. The laptop angled to the side just far enough to be out of the splash zone when the chop sticks or soup spoon slapped back down into the bowl as her attention flipped from trying to coax the added beansprouts (for added crunch, along with the packet of peanuts she’d smashed up with the bottom of the bowl before she’d filled it) into the spoon to the sudden flare of inspiration that’d hit. Never let it be said Sadie Valencia didn’t learn her lesson – one laptop fried by orange soda and a year of the horror of some computer her dad’s team had cobbled together out of parts that had to have been used to design the pyramids and she’d been a little more cautious.
Still, more often than not, it was dinner on the side as she worked. Company was Aud, or her mom, her attention only half on them in the shittiest way until she was ready to shove the laptop aside with apologies dripping off her lips. She wasn’t exactly Stephen King here. She couldn’t just pump out a single book every year. Nope, it was a juggling act and until either one pseudonym or the other took off Sadie had to keep all of those balls in the air.
Huh, kinda the same way Darcey had done as he’d pulled dinner together. A stir here, a splash of something there. Thin, clever fingers making it all look easy when her own would’ve taken knicks with the knife that sat on the table looking kinda deadly now or those stinging burns that would’ve had her screaming a ‘son of a bitch’ loud enough for Mrs Dollimore on the first floor to be shooting her those looks the next time she breezed past her apartment door. .
Sadie shoved her sleeves up to her elbows, propping one against the edge of the table to cup her chin in her hand and watch as got the table set – maybe she should’ve leapt up to at least do that considering she hadn’t done anything else. He had snorting though, her head doing that slow rolling bob of pride. ”Ever since I was a kid. My mom’d drop me off at the library in the summers while she went to work, probably figured I wouldn’t get into too much trouble there.” Oh little had she known, but the fact that it was free – there was no way on earth she was wasting her allowance on fines – and the librarians would watch out for her and Aud made it all worth it. ”I’m guess it hasn’t yet,” she chuckled. ”Brains’ll surprise you, they’re like the Tardis.” Which was about as far as her Doctor Who knowledge went but he was British, he had to have watch at least an episode right?
The clink of the plate in front of her had Sadie straightening up (no elbows on the table kid, come on), her eyes back on those freckled fingers as he carved into the meat without lopping off a finger. It wasn’t the first time she’d picked his brains about home but just like the first time Sadie found herself looking at his mouth while he opened up, those little nuances of expression, the way the star map of freckles on his nose and cheeks shifted as he grinned. ”That’s your prerogative when your commute’s like two minutes long,” she snorted. Like her own wasn’t a two yard crawl across her bedroom or that short pad out from her bed to the couch – her office scattered with pillows plump enough to play at being a throne.
Picturing something like the Weasley house with a shop tucked in on the first – ground – floor, Sadie started overlaying the image in her head with that flat image Google Maps had tossed out on her. ”An Aladdin’s cave in the back?” she asked with a hitch of a brow. Face going serious except for the curve of her lips, Sadie nodded sagely. ”The better tea.” Cause the bags she had in the bear jar on the counter definitely hadn’t been up to muster that first morning after. She wasn’t even gonna take offence at that because the stuff she special ordered for the next time had been kinda superior. Her lips pursed faintly, one aqua eye winking back. ”Must’ve been like Ron Weasley, tucked right up in the rafters.” Until the little sister had arrived and like an awesome big brother Darcey seemed to have shuffled aside for her without a gripe. Or not one he’d told admitted to anyway.
He'd at least spent enough time there to pick up his mom’s skill with all of this – the way she definitely hadn’t while her mom had slaved at the diner instead. Her stomach gave that distant thunder roll of starvation under the cover of the table, like the carrot she’d snagged off the chopping board while he’d peeled and chopped and whatevered the veggies hadn’t started to fill in the pit. Sadie made a faint pft as she eyed him. ”You keep this up and I’m gonna start expecting to be called Her Royal Highness, y’know.” Lady Chatterley and the … nope. That wasn’t the way this had, no mirror image of the asshole who’d plied her with that rough around the edges act just to leave those first faint pangs in the pit of her stomach that she’d slapped down real quick.
It looked better than what Lady Chatterley’s whoever would’ve managed anyway. The scent rose up from the plate, drawing just that little keening sound out of her like she’d starved herself for a week in anticipation of this (not that it would’ve shrunk her diet resistant stacking if she had anyway) and not just a couple of hours. Sadie carefully took the plate, making sure it wasn’t hot enough to burn her fingers – or her throat as this was gonna go down – before she set it in front of her. With a neat jab of her fork she had one of those yorkies tucked on the side of her plate, the perfect make shift gravy boat, swimming in the added sea of gravy she poured over the rest. ”I kinda feel like I should put this up on my Instagram, you know, make all the other scribes jealous with it.” Mitch probably would’ve sent her a two fingered shot back while he chewed on dry protein powder and some raw spinach or something.
Sadie tipped her head, narrowing her eyes down to arctic slits as he got all self-deprecating. She raised a foot, prodded a lean thigh with sock clad toes under the table. Above ground she aimed her fork at him before it speared down like one of those fisherman’s harpoons into a slice of the beef. ”Remember who’s the writer huh? Let me give the review, you taste the fruits of your labour.” She was glad to see his did, helping himself to just as much as he’d served up to, he’d been too thin that night she’d practically settled in his lap to pick the glass from his face. An observation she’d had no right to make then? Maybe, but there was something just a little hollow about Darcey, the same way there had been about her mom when she’d been a kid.
She chewed thoughtfully, a low hum turning into something edging on a purr. Good, the kinda melt in her mouth good she’d been hit with at her first meeting with her publisher in a fancy restaurant not far from Whitmore. Sadie ran her tongue over her upper lip, meeting Darcey’s eye like she was actually considering how to let him down easy. ”You’re gonna be lucky if I let you out of here,” she warned. ”It’s incredible. How would you feel about being my personal chef? Actually, nope, scratch that, I wouldn’t fit out the door in a week if I talked you into doing this every day and I think the price might be more than I can afford.” Definitely far more than just a few band aids and a promise to have his name right there in the dedication. ‘For Darcey, the Brit with the magic whisk.’
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DARCEY REID
Warlock
Posts: 59
Played by:
Julia
"The thought of this was heavenly at first, now it's where Hell will be."
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 23:19:14 GMT
|
Post by DARCEY REID on Jul 5, 2022 20:47:32 GMT
━ there is good in my heart, but these hands belong to the devil ━
Never a day went by where he didn’t miss her. Blue eyes slid over his bare ring finger, feeling guilty for removing it, but reminding himself that it just made sense. He couldn’t go rifling through the veggies with his hands just because he might’ve lost it━Sadie wouldn’t have been half as eager or impressed if that was the case.
“Roast for m’lady,” Darcey did his best Cockney as the slices slapped down onto her plate, moist━thank God━and still oozing juice.
With a grin, he slipped into his own seat, nodding at her suggestion. He wasn’t big on the whole social media thing (too old for it), but he knew pictures of food at restaurants were commonly the only thing that was shared. He’d take that as a compliment. “Yeah, tell ‘em if they leave their writin’ holes once in a while, they could experience some of this Fine British Cooking.” He joked, switching from stroking his ego to self-depreciation in one breath, though he wasn’t totally sure if Sadie would like it━all he knew was that he’d slaved over this meal.
Threatened with a soft poke from her foot and a fork’s prongs aimed in his direction, Darcey raised his brows and his palms, staring innocently at Sadie. He settled after a moment, waiting, catching himself watching her mouth as she ate, that slow slide of her tongue. The wetness glimmered under the light in her kitchen, and Darcey swallowed hard around nothing but the sudden dryness, nervous about more than just the look she was giving him. But if he knew Sadie, then…
Yup, she loved it. He laughed out loud, leaning back in his chair to beam across the table at her. “I’m knackered after just one meal; I couldn’t handle bein’ yer personal chef. My ‘ands might fall off.” Darcey raised and shook them to demonstrate, then he was quick about grabbing his fork, left hand still resting on the table━as if he needed to grab at it to steady himself for this. He went in for the meat first and groaned in delight. Even if it’d tasted subpar, he still would’ve been happy to finally eat, but it didn’t. Darcey didn’t mind saying he was a bit proud of himself after all that. “Not total shit,” He hummed appreciatively, taking a Yorkie (drowned in gravy) and popping it into his mouth.
“So… you ever goin’ to let me read some of yer book?” Darcey asked, eyes dancing to her laptop and back to Sadie, shovelling some potatoes in his mouth. “Since I’ll never see any royalties… even though it’s based off my life,” He said it as though Sadie was writing a biography about him━like anybody would want to read that.
SADIE VALENCIA | wrap soon? |
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SADIE VALENCIA
Human
Posts: 100
Age:
28
Occupation:
Author
Status:
Single
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 1, 2024 17:05:25 GMT
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Post by SADIE VALENCIA on Jul 26, 2022 13:54:45 GMT
She’d have called it a writer’s curse – that need to watch people, to skim mannerisms, speech, behaviour from them like fat from the top of … whatever it was you skimmed fat from – the truth was she’d done it long before she’d written much more than ‘Mabel grew up in a big house filled with dogs’. A watchful kid drinking in everything around her before she reacted on a knee jerk and the swing of a fist. That, in Sadie’s book, wasn’t a curse, it was a gift – with just a touch of the Cassandra about it.
Blue eyes drank in her latest muse, the dribble of juice from the meat slipping out like silk onto the plate, the slender hands gripping the forks, the plate, the rough edge of a voice that definitely had more depth than just the Dick Van Dyke about it. That first night at least, she’d tried to be less obvious about it but now he was in her domain and Sadie figured he’d get used to it.
There was no self-consciousness about the way he settled at her table at least, none on her part either as she loaded up. The veggies ended up glazed with gravy, the yorkie swimming in it so badly it was probably only going to remain crispy in those high points that weren’t covered. Sadie looked up from it as she set the gravy boat down, narrowing her eyes at Darcey with a grin of her own sticking. ”That’s what this is, huh? My ‘writin’ hole’?” She echoed his accent before she snorted and shook her head. ”They’re like cave dwellers, you’d have to wave this right under their noses to get them out … and on second thought, maybe I don’t wanna share this more than fine British cooking.” Her fingers flexed around her knife and fork, grabby hands demonstrated. Hell, out of the WBC Mitch was probably the only one who’d take her up on this and he’d probably start crabbing about his arteries hardening just looking at it, the wimp.
Maybe she coulda made the fork a real threat, picking out one of those soft spots her surrogate dads had pointed out – definitely a bad move given how many times she’d gone for them with bag, knee or fist over the years – but after all of this that’d just be damn ungrateful. Still, she kept her fork up there long enough for him to settle, with just a quick dart of her gaze back towards a finger that she knew hadn’t been bare the first time he’d been here, or any time since. It was always a quick tell, that cool touch of a ring on bare skin or the tell tale dent in the skin from a quick removal. With Darcey it had been the former, although not in any sort of inappropriate way, that wasn’t the deal between them. Not yet.
Her lips pressed together slightly as he watched her, her tongue rubbed back and forth on the roof of her mouth until she gave her review. Fucking amazing would’ve been the short of it, although this seemed like it deserved something a little more poetic than that, smooth as the gravy glazing the carrots. Sadie’s mouth quirked as her appreciation threw him back in his seat to laugh and grin at her. ”You’re underselling yourself,” she told him, leaning forward to pluck up his left hand for a moment. ”Looks like they’re doing pretty well to me, and anyway, I wouldn’t expect the full banquet every time. I’m a girl of simple tastes.” And many, many questions.
His hands were soon tugged free though, the fork clutched again, that bare finger wrapped around the handle. Sadie swallowed hard, going back to her own plate. It was rude to start to push during all of this, even if she had to gulp the first crispy-soft lump of Yorkshire pudding down around the steaming lump of questions in her throat. ”A total understatement,” Sadie corrected, another bump of her toes against his thigh under the table an admonishment. The not total shit was the best thing she’d eaten in as long as she could remember.
There was no wasting it, her knife slicing through the slice of beef for another chunk. She’d definitely gotten the better part of the bargain here, especially since so far he’d taken a beating for her, had been pumped for information in a way that was just short of a lamp to the face in a concrete bunker, and he’d slaved in the kitchen for hours while she’d sat and just watched, filing those tiny details away to put him on the pages of a book she’d get all the kudos for later. Those scales were seriously out of balance but it didn’t mean she wasn’t going to enjoy it. Sadie licked her lips again before raising a hand to knuckle at her mouth. ”You honestly wanna read it?” she asked. The snort she shot out probably sounded rude, but hey, she was being maligned here. ”Pffft. I always pay my muses. What’s ten percent of a couple of bucks?” Maybe a little more, she’d been slowly ticking upwards in sales, building herself a following in more than one camp.
Heat rose up from under her collar at the mental image of slipping one of her others into the stack of print outs from this one. She could already picture the flush spreading over his English-pale skin at that, slowly eclipsing Darcey’s freckles one by one. ”I’ll share if you will,” she said finally. Lifting her chin towards his hand, Sadie felt her stomach twitch. She was definitely going to hell no matter which one this played out. ”You’re not wearing it,” she managed hoarsely. For someone who prided themselves on her reading ability, she was pretty thrown by what that really meant.
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DARCEY REID
Warlock
Posts: 59
Played by:
Julia
"The thought of this was heavenly at first, now it's where Hell will be."
Last seen Nov 17, 2024 23:19:14 GMT
|
knots
Aug 15, 2022 17:41:53 GMT
ANGE likes this
Post by DARCEY REID on Aug 15, 2022 17:41:53 GMT
━ there is good in my heart, but these hands belong to the devil ━
She studied his hands. His rough hands, not from real work, exactly, but from pounding the faces off of others. His knuckles had been split, bruised, fingers broken from colliding with bone━it was all written on his pale, freckly skin, each tale there for her to read. It would be poetic to say they were both authors in their own way, but Darcey wasn’t poetic. That’s why he used his hands to deliver black eyes instead of writing about fictional characters.
Another poke with her toes and Darcey was forcing all that out, offering her half the grin he gave to his food. It stole most of his focus, and he shovelled it into his mouth as if he hadn’t eaten anything in a week, only pausing for air occasionally. For conversation, too, once he could lend a thought to anything other than this fucking immaculate roast.
Darcey raised his brows at her, mumbling, “‘Course,” before he was smirking, laughing lightly while he pretended to do the math in his head. “Ah, less than what the Yorkies alone costed, that’s for sure,” He joked, spying the way her cheeks suddenly turned pink, lighting up her face in a way he… admired. That was the best word for a cross between jealousy and the feeling in the pit of his stomach he thought was long lost. Was it that he wanted to read her book? Sadie was no Stephen King (in terms of popularity, of course), but she had to figure that he’d want a copy. Not that Darcey had picked up a book since he and Lorna had been planning for a child.
Perhaps she’d read his mind. Was it visible on his face? Women could do shit like that, they were perceptive in a way he’d never been━if he was, perhaps he wouldn’t have fallen victim to those sirens. His throat tightened (a separate feeling to when she’d licked her lips), and he tensed, curling his left hand. It didn’t do anything to hide the bare space━if anything, his movement exposed it further, as his hand was still sitting atop the table.
She’d never asked about his ring. He’d gotten it once or twice, namely with that reaper, or people who mentioned his ‘wife’ flippantly while trying to relate or sell him something. But Sadie never pried, and sometimes he forgot while he was with her. Everything became a little easier because she didn’t know, and it was never brought up.
It hadn’t meant much earlier when he’d slipped it off, but now the weight of his actions were crushing. God, of course it meant something, but not… this. It was easier to cook without it━did Sadie think this was a date? Did Darcey think it was? Was he ready to move on?
“Erm,” He sighed, “I just thought…” Darcey’s gaze flicked to hers, willing her to understand without the use of words. That was her forte, not his. “... I’d be cookin’ quite a bit, didn’t want t’lose it in the gravy.” He smiled sheepishly, though it was gone in seconds. “She’s been gone for a while now, so maybe it was time…” Again, his sentence trailed off unfinished, though this time he didn’t bother to fill in the rest. Sadie could do that on her own, especially since he’d asked the question first. She owed him now, and reading a book seemed a lot less uncomfortably taxing than what he’d just gone through.
SADIE VALENCIA | no notes. |
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SADIE VALENCIA
Human
Posts: 100
Age:
28
Occupation:
Author
Status:
Single
Played by:
Ange
Last seen Nov 1, 2024 17:05:25 GMT
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Post by SADIE VALENCIA on Aug 27, 2022 21:55:12 GMT
People didn’t like thinking they were under a microscope. Hell, some heard you were an author and immediately drew that line – don’t write about me, I’ll be able to tell if you do. Like most weren’t absolutely deluding themselves about who they were. They hid parts of themselves deep down inside because they didn’t want to see it, that meant they didn’t recognise it when it was right there under their nose in black and white. Not that she’d ever gone against their wishes and done it anyway, Sadie Valencia and S.L. Hunter both had more scruples than that. And more subtlety.
In those brief moments she could snatch she’d watched Darcey. From that perch at his feet that first night, each time they’d hung out since, she’d drunk in those tiny details – and with his full permission (so far, who knew what he’d want to redact when he actually saw what she’d been tinkering with) she’d committed them to paper. Those fine details were what she’d always loved anyway. Being able to rearrange them, to fit together parts of people like a puzzle piece until you had something entirely different to the whole you’d had before.
The star map of freckles on a trader’s hands, the myriad of tiny scars – earned on the job, rather than the cruder ways she imagined Darcey had found his as he’d saved a dozen damsels in distress from trouble – including the new marks on his face, no longer red the way they had been when they’d started healing. Sadie suspected there were thousands of layers she had yet to peel away, but she’d been in no rush to do that. One bargain at a time would get her there and she’d enjoy unwrapping each one as she went. At least until those hands stopped her and then she’d hold back the curiosity. He hadn’t voiced it yet, hadn’t explained the ring or the wife who hadn’t turned up at her door that first night to demand that her husband come home, and that left her suspecting that there was a sore spot she wasn’t going to jab her fork or poke a toe into.
She used them – with their fresh coat of My Doodle – as an admonishment now, like she could plump out those layers and maybe strip a little of the sad from them all at the same time. The corner of her mouth curled up with satisfaction as he caved and started eating – wolfing. There was no way she was asking if he’d remain that skinny if he ate like that all the time, she sure as hell wouldn’t.
Sadie’s snort rolled away into a grin, one that said she hadn’t taken any offence to Darcey’s little jibe. Maybe he’d be going away with a bag of print outs along with some of the leftovers – if this lot went in her fridge she’d be forced to do something to try and burn some of it off and her only intentions for the rest of the week were buckets of coffee and enough screen time to burn out her retinas. ”That’s the beauty of being able to write this off on the taxes. We’ll call it a business meeting and when refund season comes around, we get to splash out on something you don’t have to cook.” Not that she’d force him to wait that long, this to and fro had more legs than that – even if the ones she provided were mainly of the microwave sort.
On her YA books alone she’d have been able to afford the apartment, been relatively comfortable, but the erotica – that was the cherry on top of the cake, even if it wasn’t quite as easy to admit to when people asked what you wrote. In some circles it was perfectly acceptable, but usually those circles were pretty far away from her life in this town. Her mom had never read them – God, her head would explode – neither had her dad’s team, Aud had immediately shrieked and covered her eyes at the mere suggestion. Would Darcey do the same though? Too startled at this undercurrent to her creativity to stay put, especially if there was still some real weight to that ring. Not a thought for now – maybe after the after dinner drinks, enough of them to loosen the chains on her ego a little.
Seizing on the ring had been a clumsy twist to the subject. An I’ll show you mine if you tell me all about yours. Another layer stripped away in an instant. Sadie saw the way he tensed, his hand curling in like somehow it was change that chunk of bare skin. She’d have put her hand over it if she didn’t think the mention of it alone had left it all raw, the sore spot she hadn’t intended to go for. Blue eyes met, held his as he smiled sheepishly, the easiest explanation tripping out before the harder one – the loaded one followed.
Darcey’s wife could’ve left him but if she had Sadie doubted the ring would’ve stayed so long. When your heart was broken that way you wanted the reminders gone, not clutched in your fingers still. He was a widower, had been for a while – whatever span of time that covered. Setting her fork down, Sadie spread her hand out on the table, flat first, then the pinky extended. ”Maybe,” she said lightly, ”if it’s not, there’s no shame in putting it back on. My mom still wears hers – even though my dad died before they got that far.” She snaked her little finger into his grip, wrapping it around his to give it a tug. ”Either way I appreciate not choking on it, it would’ve ruined dinner.” The amazing dinner.
Drawing in a deep breath, Sadie let go and reached for her fork again. She aimed it back at Darcey, wiggling it menacingly. There was more of a story to it all, she would’ve bet, but she’d burned away enough layers from this man tonight. ”Once we’ve stuffed ourselves to the gills, and I’ve washed the dishes – no arguing that, you slaved over this – we’re gonna retreat to the couch and you’re gonna listen to what I’ve got of fictional Darcey so far.” By then she’d be too full to move much further, and hopefully that hole she’d forced through Darcey’s gut would’ve started to fill in again, shored up by a half ton of beef, a stack of yorkies, and some of the bottle of wine she’d left chilling in the fridge.
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