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Chapter 18 - A Lesson in Keeping Calm

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
White Swan.jpg

Chapter 18: A Lesson in Keeping Calm
Author's Note: I'M BACK...AGAIN! I recently got back in to reading actual books and it kinda allowed my prose-writing synapses to start firing again, so while it is un-beta'd, this chapter felt really good to write. I also became acutely aware at just how long my past chapters are, holy shit :ROFLMAO: So going forward I'm planning to keep them all under 6k. Which...has resulted in a lot of split chapters on my planning end LOL. More fun for you, and more opps for juicy cliffhangers, I guess!

As always, thanks so much for reading this stupid story 🤍 🖤

For a small stretch of her commute, Odette felt like she was falling into an auto-piloted fugue state.

You still there? Probably not wise to zone out when you’re operating heavy machinery, Odile said, causing Odette to jolt back to attention.

Maybe Odile would be good for something, if not just present to bust her balls.

Odette made it just as her first class was letting out. Or rather, she assumed as much based on the time. If she followed their normal schedule, she’d have her Battle Tactics course, and Dorien would arrive at the campus in time for their shared Battle Performance class, giving her approximately two more hours of Dorien-less bliss. Not nearly enough time for her tastes. And of course, she could already hear RotomPhone notifying her of texts from him, so that time would barely count.

She realized that she hadn’t seen him in about a week, which felt like a long time for couples who were supposed to be head over heels in love. Granted, she had been sick, and she was supposed to be a little mad at him. Those excuses could carry her, but she knew she’d have to watch it going forward.

However, with the over-the-top “marking territory” flowers he’d sent her, followed up with the revelation that he’d actually drugged her and Solene, she wasn’t sure how she was going to watch anything around him. How was she going to keep herself from killing him outright as soon as she saw him? The thought of his glowing green eyes, perfect skin, and perfect smile sent a stream of boiling rage through her, and she started grinding her teeth to keep her expletives down.

Check yourself before you wreck yourself, dumbass, Odile warned. You’re already making yourself nuts, and the fucker’s not even here yet.

The Wrath embodiment had a point. If she couldn’t contain herself at the thought of him, how would she fare when she saw him in the flesh?

“Right. Thanks,” she muttered under her breath, shrugging her backpack onto her shoulders.

Battle Tactics went by far too fast. She tried to get lost in Songmin’s lecture, but her mind’s eye was haunted by images of Dorien hugging, kissing, and intentionally trying to grate on her. Paired with the Wrath demon’s incessant comments on the lecture at hand or her thoughts about how Songmin’s pants looked too tight for her tastes (which she insisted on pointing out every five minutes), the clock turned faster than it normally did. Before Odette knew it, everyone was getting up to leave.

Well, that was an invigorating lecture. I certainly feel smarter, Odile said, sounding proud of herself. Odette, in the middle of zipping up her backpack, exhaled sharply.

Are you sure you just aren’t more aware of how to tell when somebody is wearing their pants too tight?

What the fuck else did you think I was talking about?


Odette wasn’t sure why she bothered engaging. Then again, it wasn’t like she could just walk away.

RotomPhone buzzed in her pocket again, and dread opened up like a sinkhole in the pit of her stomach. She knew what the message said before she opened it.

Outside waiting for you 😘

For a quick second, her grip tightened on the phone. RotomPhone made a noise that resembled television static and sent a minor shock through her fingertips, causing her to start.

Bzzzzzzzt, hey!” RotomPhone barked. “Watch those hands!”

“I–sorry,” she said quickly. She forced a breath into her lungs, which had shriveled under her sudden anger. “I’m sorry.”

Minding how tightly she held him, she started typing her response.

Don’t bother because as soon as I see you you’re gonna fucking die because I’m gonna take a fucking bat to the back of your—

Bzzzzzzzt…uh,” RotomPhone said, bringing his voice down to a whisper. “Are you sure that’s what you wanna send him?”

Tonguing the inside of her cheek, she quickly deleted what she was writing.

Okay, be out in a second :smile:

“Better, bzzzzzzt,” RotomPhone complimented. She offered him an apologetic yet bitter grin before setting him back in her pocket.

That was a close one, huh?

Eat a dick.

She hustled down the lecture hall bleachers and to the door. Maybe he would miss her if she went fast enough, but that wouldn’t save her from running into him in their next class. Prolonging the inevitable was hardly a good approach, but if she could milk even a few more seconds, she would try to.

It was no use, though. She barely made it a step outside the classroom before he caught her.

Dorien had situated himself against the wall directly across from the door, ensuring she could not stealth by him. It was like he’d calculated it perfectly. She met his eye immediately upon exiting, and the smile that sprung across his face almost made her throw up all over his expensive-looking sneakers.

She held it off by forcing a tight-lipped grin. “Hey,” she greeted, tasting bile. Bile turned to searing acid as he approached, wrapped his arms around her, and planted a kiss on her temple. It might as well have been a fucking bullet. She wished it was.

“Hey there, Doll!” he beamed, pulling away just enough to grin at her. “God, I missed you so much.”

As she held his deceptively tender gaze, the memory of him asking her about that thing like it was nothing echoed in her ear, far more grating than the sound of Odile’s cackle. The image of him blowing Vice Dust into her and Solene’s faces strobed in and out of her mind, causing her body to seize up with a rising urge to fight.

I want you dead. I want to shoot you and your little demon right between your big green eyes, you raging fucking asshole, she thought against her twitching fingers. Her hands ached to throw a punch, but she knew for certain that wouldn’t be enough. Her need for violence against him transcended mere physicality. She wanted to see the life drain out of his eyes and have the satisfaction of knowing he’d be too dead to bother her anymore.

The totality of her resolve to kill him frightened her just as much as knowing he’d drugged her. But the latter was far more pressing than the former.

It was Odile who kicked her back into gear. Your enthusiasm brings a tear to my eye, really. But you need to C-H-I-L-L out.

“I missed you more,” she said, feeling the muscles in her cheeks loosen up as she forced herself back into her act. “I’m sorry you didn’t get a chance to come see me while I was sick. I was honestly a little embarrassed about you seeing me like that.”

He stuck out his lower lip, canting his head with the solemnity of a preschool teacher consoling one of their crying students. The affection behind his eyes made her want to scream, and she bit her tongue just as she was pulled into another tight embrace.

“Odette, please,” he said in a sigh. “You don’t have to be embarrassed about those sorts of things around me. You can’t help health spells like that.” His arms tightened on her. “And I was so worried about you, I can’t even begin to explain it.”

Right. Of fucking course you were, she thought, feeling her lip starting to curl up over her teeth. She smoothed it out when he pulled away to look at her again, this time raising a hand to graze his thumb over her cheek.

“You look better, though. Really.”

“I feel better,” she said, nodding. Not.

He grinned again, something she guessed was supposed to be more joking. “I definitely prefer your face with some color in it,” he said.

I’d prefer your face rearranged, she thought. She tried to muffle it with a chuckle of her own.

“And…” He trailed off as he took her hands, holding them tenderly while he ran his thumbs over her knuckles. The gesture was meant to be intimate, but the urge to pull away came on like a sixth sense, and she had to fight it off while she listened to him continue.

“I wanted to apologize, in person, for how I acted in the garden. I don’t know what came over me, I-I was just–” His shoulders hiked up to his earlobes as he frantically shook his head, seemingly losing his words. “–I was distraught seeing you in that line of fire, and when that thing scampered off I just wanted to know what, if anything, you did to get it away from you. Just in case it happened again, so I wouldn’t be a sitting ducklett. You know?”

It was an Oscar-worthy performance, one that made her want to body-slam him into the bulletin board they were standing next to.

Man, he’s good. Fuck him, Odile sneered.

In what way? she asked.

With a rusty pitchfork, preferably.

They were on the same page there.

She nodded, matching his solemnity. “I know,” she said. “I think I would have been a mess myself if the roles were reversed.”

Oh, nice touch.

Dorien sighed, sounding relieved. “Can we forget it happened? Water off the ducklett’s back?”

Couldn’t you just Vice Dust me to get me to forget it happened? she wanted to say.

“I’d like that.”

He smiled again, a joyful light coming into his eyes. She couldn’t analyze it for long before he leaned down and set a kiss on her lips. It was quick, thank the gods, but it still left her aching for some steel wool to scrub her face clean. His kisses somehow felt worse than they had before, yet all she could do was smile through them and act like she wanted more, as if nothing had changed.

“Come; I would like to get a decent set in the gym today,” he said, turning and gently leading her down the hall. “Besides, I think we’ve given everyone in this hall enough of a PDA show,” he added with a chuckle.

The people in the hall? Odile asked in a wheeze. What about us?

Odette felt her brow twitching with a threatening scowl, which managed to slip through once she realized Dorien wasn’t looking directly at her. It was a quick yet much-needed break. It had only been a few minutes, and she felt winded, like she’d just sprinted a mile. Gods help her.

Finding a seat in Battle Tactics wasn’t difficult. They’d arrived early enough to where there were still plenty of spots toward the top of the bleachers, where they usually sat. By his own admission, Dorien preferred to sit at the back of the class, and that was the one thing they could agree on. What she didn’t agree with was the way he slung his arm around her when they sat. Her body wanted to lurch at the thought of settling into him, but she knew she had no choice. He usually let up once Chuquete got in, so if she could hold out until then, she’d be home free at least until the end of the class.

“So, what else were you up to this week aside from recovering from that little spell?” He’d taken to mindlessly intertwining his fingers with hers, which subsequently made her want to saw her hands off.

“Fever broke, went back to work, and the cast and I had our little line-reading get together yesterday at a cast-mate’s house,” she said. She didn’t have to put much thought into the explanation because it was all true—well, most of it. “Noel and I got rained in while we were there.”

“Ah. You and your second boyfriend, huh?”

Odette snapped her head in his direction, and a hot sensation clawed up her back and coalesced in her scalp as if something were yanking on her hair.

EASY, Odile hissed.

Blinking, she settled her face into a polite frown. “What do you mean by that? Are you implying I might be cheating on you with him?”

Dorien laughed like he knew the insinuation was preposterous, but it didn’t sound quite convincing enough for her. “Not at all. I think you’re lacking the parts for that to line up.”

“But?” she pressed, dipping her chin toward her chest.

Sucking his teeth, he shifted his sitting position in a way that indicated that he was uncomfortable. The thought lit a small flame of joy within her. “I don’t know, Odie. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that you’re hanging out with another guy so much when you’re already seeing one? Sexuality aside.”

“I’ve been friends with Noel since before I knew you existed,” she said, sounding far more terse than she intended to. He seemed to catch that because his brows jumped higher than she’d ever seen them go before. He pulled his hands away and held them up like he was anticipating her to take a swing at him. Maybe his instincts were better than she gave him credit for.

“No, I know.” His defensiveness sounded almost sincere enough for her to lower her own guard. “I’m just saying. We are dating, are we not? It feels odd that you don’t spend that time with me.”

She felt her eye twitch, and she blinked to keep it from becoming too obvious. “We’ve gone on multiple dates, just the two of us. In fact, I vaguely recall spending multiple days in a row with you. I don’t think I saw Noel once in that first week we went out.”

“Okay, fair,” he said, fanning his fingers to his sides. “But…” He trailed off into a heedful silence. The way he studied her face made it seem like he was afraid of offending her if he didn’t select his words carefully. She had to wonder where that caution was at that island restaurant.

“You’ve brought him to multiple gatherings already. And I’m not concerned about how he might fit in with the attendees; he’s a very…”

He flexed his lips, disgust glazing over his eyes for a nearly unnoticeable moment.

“...likable person. But my concern stems from how it might look for us as a couple.” He lowered his voice and leaned in so close that his forehead hovered mere centimeters above hers. “You know people in my world talk, right? Gossip is like a drug for them. And I don’t want to be the couple that fuels their habits. I also don’t want anyone to think you might be, how do I say this politely…” He tapped at his chin. “Loose.”

Odette’s toes curled inside her sneakers, and she clawed into the fabric of her joggers with such intensity that she thought she would tear through the thick polyester. Odile’s deafening silence allowed her more headspace to imagine pushing him off the bleachers in a manner that ensured he broke his neck when he hit the floor.

“Do you think I’m loose, Dorien?” she asked with the calmness of a cracking dam.

He appeared shocked by the question. “Of course not.”

She exhaled through her nose. Cool. Calculated. Calm. She knew what he was doing now, and she wouldn’t allow it to work—not again.

“Then I don’t see the problem.”

She hunted for a seed of disappointment sowing on his face, just as a small reward for her efforts. All she got was a half smile and a defeated eye roll. He settled back into the position they’d been in previously.

“No, I guess you’re right,” he said. He forced his fingers back between hers, and she channeled her desire to yank her hand back into clenching her jaw. “I’m not saying you need to stop hanging out with him. I just want to be careful going forward. You probably don’t mind the gossip, but I don’t want anybody to say anything negative about you.”

He raised her hand to kiss the back of it again. His lips felt like the stinger of a beedrill: agonizing and entirely unpleasant. Nonetheless, she smiled at him.

“I only want to hear good things about my Doll.”

Her rage fizzled out, quickly eclipsed by the chill of anxiety. Something about that statement instilled a sense of flight within her that sent her heartbeat into a frantic gallop.

She opened her mouth to respond but was cut off by a gasp.

“Oh!” he said. “Before I forget. Did you like my present? You got it, right?”

Curses pounded against the back of Odette’s clenched teeth. “I did,” she said. “You really didn’t make it easy for me to take home, huh?”

Recalling how she waited until all her castmates had left that day to lug the rose mound out back and have Ange and Freddy burn it in the dumpster was a brief moment of solace.

“Maybe a bit of an oversight on my end, I’ll admit it,” he said. “But! I only want the biggest and best gifts for my Doll.”

She wished he’d stop calling her that. It made her feel like she needed to take a shower.

“Big gifts for big apologies, I suppose,” she said, feeling some new heat building up under the words. Dorien let out a nervous laugh that sputtered out into a sigh.

“You know me just a little too well,” he said, his eyes falling to her hands, still locked with his. “It felt necessary, though. You barely spoke to me, and I felt I had to do something.”

You fucking grabbed me and screamed at me; why the fuck would I speak to you after that? She thought.

“I was just…” Now, she was the one carefully selecting her words. “I was a little put off by the way you acted.”

Dorien sighed again, his nostrils flaring. “But I told you why I did that.”

He was poking the beartic again. She might have respected his balls if she didn’t harbor such a deep, unsettling, homicidal rage toward him.

Her stomach lurched, and she could feel her blood pressure spike to a level her doctors would have likely had her admitted to the ER for. “Yes,” she said with a calculated nod. “But you still grabbed me and yelled in my face.”

“Maybe. But you might have overreacted just a little bit, no? It was a high-stress situation; icing me out for a few days was certainly a bit low.”

His reasoning not only caused her mind to stall, but her acting chops as well. For an excruciating set of seconds, she couldn’t figure out the best way to respond to that. The only thing that filled her head was the sound of her blood coming to a simmer over her suppressed anger.

Dorien held her hands up to his chin, effectively pulling her just a little closer to him.“It’s just that I care about you so much, Odie, and it hurts me that you thought my intentions were anything but good. They might not have seemed that way at the moment, but I figured you’d know me better than that by now, right?”

He smiled at her with a sickly sweetness that left her feeling like she’d ingested too much sugar. He was acting as if he didn't drug her brain a few weeks ago, and like his attempt at manipulation was supposed to be cute and sincere.

All she wanted to do was tear his fucking lips off his face.

Odile's voice filled her head again, so abruptly that she nearly jumped. Oh, you know what–fuck it. I can’t fucking take this. Do that. Tear them clean off, she said. Show this bitch how it's done.

Odette wanted to glare, but there was nothing to glare at.

Wha– What the fuck happened to not giving in to the temptation?

Odile didn't respond at first. Odette felt her brain empty out as if the eldritch terror herself was stalling on her own thoughts.

This is the part where I tell you I'm testing you, and you pass. B+.

Why a B+?

You lost your chances at an ‘A’ with that bitch ass attitude of yours.

The physical reaction came on fast but was halted by Dorien waving his hand in front of her face.

"Earth to Odie," he cooed. "Something on your mind?”

Smiling felt painful. “No. You’re right. Maybe it was a little rash.”

He looked proud of himself, making his face astronomically more maimable. “I just don’t like being apart from you for so long.”

“I know,” she said. “I’m sorry.”

As if the universe was finally set to throw her a bone, whatever Dorien had geared up to say was interrupted by the gym doors opening, and Chuquete entering with the usual group of stragglers coming from their previous classes, Odette's own teammates included among them. Odette could see the top of Solene’s head before she noticed anyone else, and the dread corroded a hole in the pit of her stomach.

It was hard to make out the expressions on any of her teammates, and she couldn’t look too eager while she tried to. But as they wandered closer, and up the bleacher steps, it was evident that nothing had changed since that morning. Although Solene had conjured up an air of composure in the time since they separated for classes, her typically bright eyes were dullened with the shadow of agitation.

Enora, on the other hand, looked as stoic as ever. She always held herself the same way regardless of how she was feeling. Odette wasn’t entirely concerned about her, the sense of betrayal she still felt lingering in the corner of her mind aside.

“Oh, wonderful timing,” Dorien chided. “And it looks like your calvary is here.”

He surely meant it as a joke, but he didn’t know just how right he was. Instead of acknowledging it, however, Odette took note of the subtle sidelong glare Solene sent him. Odette knew it wasn’t aimed at her, but she could feel the residual chill of the gothitelle’s eyes, pupils shrunk to white pinpricks of frigid contempt.

Odette felt the skin on her arms prickle with a different flavor of unease. Solene had always been a loud type of angry. When she was upset, you always knew it. This silent, tight-lipped, icy rendition was something Odette had always known was there, but she’d prayed she’d never have to see it in the flesh.

Uhhhhhhhhhhhhhh… Odile started to say. Loïc scampering into Odette’s lap interrupted whatever the intended follow-up was.

Odette gasped under her breath, but when she set her palm against the rough burlap of his disguise, she felt some of the pressure release inside her chest, like the abrupt opening of a swelling wound. She exhaled from her nose, feeling her eyes start to well up under the rage she was breathing out. A new weight crashed down upon her, threatening to take her eyelids down with it.

Without a word, Loïc’s shadowy hand manifested from under his cloak, clutching a miniature plastic water bottle between its pointed claws. The second wave of relief that rushed over her nearly made her burst into tears.

She knew now more than ever that she really could not have been doing what she was doing without her partners.

Grabbing the bottle with calculated restraint, she chuckled. “How’d you know I left my water bottle at home?” she said, playing into the hypothetical situation where she truly wasn’t bothered by her situation. It helped that she really had left her water bottle at home.

She began to unscrew the cap. It wasn’t coming off fast enough. “Thank you. I appreciate your concern for my hydration.”

“Kkkknnngggggg,” Loïc said.

With an appeasing ‘CLICK,’ cap separated from plastic and Odette went in for the gulp. She tried to show some more restraint in her drinking, but momentarily lost the ability to think straight. When she regained herself, she’d sucked down the whole bottle, and she no longer like she was going to collapse.

Dorien laughed to himself. “Goodness, how thirsty were you?”

“Not too much, why?” she replied without missing a beat, earning her a heartier laugh. Disgust burned her nose and she sniffled to ward it off. She didn’t want to make him laugh. He didn’t deserve her comedy.

Chuquete was mercifully quick in kicking off class once everyone was seated. 20 minutes of solo 1 on 1 cycle sparring before the day’s hands-on lesson in more effectively playing around weak power matchups. Something Odette thought was interesting enough to adequately keep her attention, instead of it sitting on fuming at Dorien. But of course, this was the one day Chuqete didn’t pick their sparring partners for them, and Dorien claimed her as his before she had a chance to protest.

The cycle sparring was at least mostly uneventful and painless to start. Being that cycle spar matches started and ended quickly–with a Pokemon switching out for another every time it was hit with an opposing move–Odette didn’t feel nearly as tense as she would have felt were they having full-fledged matches. The quick procession of sparring meant Dorien and his sacrilege crew couldn’t go on a tirade and overshoot the power of another move again; they simply wouldn’t have time. Or, at least, she hoped they wouldn’t. She hadn’t had a chance to really drill Valentin about how that worked, but she had to assume that it was something that needed to be charged.

She’d yet to see it happen again since her first battle with him, and she wanted to keep it that way.

Ange fared pretty well against Ferrothorn, but was knocked aside by a sudden intrusion from Dorien’s poliwrath partner after getting a little cocky with his movements. He was still throwing a tantrum even as Odette recalled him to his ball and sent out Solene to deal with the new matchup. It was the third time Odette had called the gothitelle out, and Odette still couldn’t get over how rigid she was with her movements. Rigid, and most of all, silent. Solene always had a bark to give, or grunt to make every time she made a move, and with each one she executed, she was as quiet as ever.

With a calculated Psychic burst, she sent Poliwrath back to its ball, leaving Dorien to send out Conkeldurr, probably in an attempt to get a jump on the day's overarching lesson. Its presence sent Odette’s heartbeat off in a sprint as she replayed the image of it running at a downed Ange with the intent to eat over and over in her head. Gluttony, no doubt, she thought, a scowl ruffling her brow.

I wonder how that would even taste? It’d be like eating a sconce, right? I’ve eaten sconces before; they’re not exactly–

Can you not? Please? That’s not exactly an image I want to entertain.

I’m just saying, if it were to happen, it would be just as unenjoyable for that fatass over–

Odette tuned Odile out in just enough time to watch Solene’s hands flare up with her signature pink glow, evidently charging up another round of Psychic, which, given Conkeldurr didn’t dodge, would easily knock it back. However, as the light built up in intensity, and Solene still made no move to let it go, Odette felt a drop of chill slide down her spine before she could register why.

“Sol, you can let it–” she started to say, but the gothitelle was one step ahead. With a flick of her hands, arms of psychic energy shot forth, some aiming for Conkeldurr, who successfully sidestepped them. The remaining beams should have finished the job, but they had strayed in another direction.

Right at Dorien.

It happened faster than Odette could react. A yelp, a loud crash, and every bit of movement in her peripheral vision ceased. All she could focus on now was the smoking hole in the protective barrier around the wall behind them, before her eyes slid slowly over to Dorien’s panting form, completely unscathed aside from clearly being a little shaken. He'd managed to dodge the beams.

A shrill whistle cut through Odette’s shock like a hot knife through butter, and she turned her head to see Chuquete sauntering toward them with her hands raised. “Whoa, whoa! Team Cinq-Mars, what’d I say about watching your aim? Come on people, I know we’re not on a huge field right now, but I expect more control from teams of your level!”

Odette could hear her shallow breaths, clawing in and out, in and out. Yet, she could not feel them. She couldn’t feel her lungs working, and she couldn’t feel the air flowing into her system. She felt like she was being suffocated under all the pairs of eyes that were now trained on her and Solene, who still stood stick-straight in place, not paying anyone else any mind. She hadn’t even turned her head to look at Odette. Her eyes remained trained on Conkeldurr and Dorien.

“R-right,” Odette said, exhaling over her word and feeling the air rush out of her head. “Sorry, Chuquete. Got a little overzealous.”

It wasn’t the first time somebody had gone out of bounds of the court and hit a wall or the bleachers. But it was the first time Odette’s team had done it.

“Yes,” Solene replied. The only movement she gave was her shoulders raising under the breath she inhaled. “My mistake.”

Chuquete appeared to accept the apologies and abruptly motioned for everyone to get back to their sparring. Dorien took that moment of downtime to cautiously make his way over, holding his hands out to his sides to underscore the dumb quizzical look on his face.

“Jeeze, if I’d have been any slower that might have taken my head off,” he said. “I guess accidents happen, but still. That would have hurt.”

Odette slid her eyes back and forth between an unmoving Solene and Dorien before they finally settled on Dorien. “I-I’m sorry, we’ve never done that before. She just overshot a little, and–”

Dorien set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine, Odie. I’m not mad. It was a very impressive show of Psychic, otherwise. Besides, you’re not the one who actually did it, now are you?”

A glimmer of indignation sparked in his eyes as he pinned Solene with a leer. She slowly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, expression still mostly unreadable on Odette’s end.

“My apologies,” she said, tone as soft as it normally was when she was genuinely apologizing. “I seem to have a clumsy streak going.”
 
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Seren

Lurking
Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Partners
  1. sableye
OHBOY OHBOY OHBOY OH-

Check yourself before you wreck yourself, dumbass, Odile warned. You’re already making yourself nuts, and the fucker’s not even here yet.

The Wrath embodiment had a point. If she couldn’t contain herself at the thought of him, how would she fare when she saw him in the flesh?

There's something deliciously ironic about the embodiment of wrath, the source of Odette's anger, reprimanding her for being angry.

or her thoughts about how Songmin’s pants looked too tight for her tastes (which she insisted on pointing out every five minutes),

It seems, perhaps, that there's some of Odette's influence rubbing off on Odile after all these years as well. :mewlulz:

Well, that was an invigorating lecture. I certainly feel smarter, Odile said, sounding proud of herself. Odette, in the middle of zipping up her backpack, exhaled sharply.

Odile's speech here didn't get it's formatting. That aside, I wonder what that's like, having an actual voice inside your head while you're trying to pay attention to classes.


The dreaded single letter response. Odette might have been better off with the threat of a bat.

It was no use, though. She barely lasted a single step outside the classroom.

This feels worded a bit awkwardly to me, given the context. She's not really lasting through anything here. I wonder if "barely made it a step" would work better, since it's something she's walking into, not currently enduring, if that makes sense.

Her need for violence against him transcended mere physicality
It was Odile who kicked her back into gear. Your enthusiasm brings a tear to my eye, really. But you need to C-H-I-L-L out.

This whole segment was painful to read. Fantastic job at capturing Odette's inner rage and showing flashes of it through her body language while still trying to maintain her facade. Her words do kind of feel a little at-odds with the implications that the single-letter text message gives, but they're minor and easy to gloss over.

Blinking, she settled her face into a polite frown. “What do you mean by that? Are you implying I might be cheating on you with him?”

Dorien laughed like he knew the insinuation was preposterous, but it didn’t sound quite convincing enough for her. “Not at all. I think you’re lacking the parts for that to line up.”

It'll be a miracle of Dorien doesn't pick up on all these subtle bodily clues Odette's giving off. There was nothing mentioned about the kiss except Odette feeling gross about it, but surely he'd have picked up on if she was suddenly even less enthusiastic about it than before.

Sucking his teeth, he shifted his sitting position in a way that indicated that he was uncomfortable. The thought lit a small flame of joy within her. “I don’t know, Odie. Don’t you think it’s a little weird that you’re hanging out with another guy so much when you’re already seeing one? Sexuality aside.”

Oh god, yep. Hate this. I get that jealousy is a thing, especially for a person she's known her whole life, but man, you can't just go around expecting her to cut him loose now that she's dating! Nevermind the fact that Noel has never and will never be interested in her like that, that doesn't even matter. Yikes. Red Flag.

He flexed his lips, disgust glazing over his eyes for a nearly unnoticeable moment.

Oh yeah. If Odette's picking up on these little details, there's no way a performer like Dorien is missing Odette's clues too.

Odile’s deafening silence allowed her more headspace to imagine pushing him off the bleachers in a manner that ensured he broke his neck when he hit the floor.

Odile munching on popcorn and enjoying the show like it's playing in a wide-screen movie theater.

“Maybe. But you might have overreacted just a little bit, no? It was a high-stress situation; icing me out for a few days was certainly a bit low.”

His reasoning not only caused her mind to stall, but her acting chops as well. For an excruciating set of seconds, she couldn’t figure out the best way to respond to that. The only thing that filled her head was the sound of her blood coming to a simmer over her suppressed anger.

Don't blame Odette here at all. I certainly wouldn't have responded well to someone dragging up the argument and trying to re-start it again. Just let it go, man...

and Chuquete entering with the usual group of stragglers behind her. Odette could see the top of Solene’s head before she noticed anyone else, and the dread corroded a hole in the pit of her stomach.

This person's name seems to be spelled with or without a second U several times in this chapter. (I had to actually go back to the beginning to make sure it was the same person, because the very first use doesn't have the U after the Q. I'm not sure which is intended.)

Anyways! This seems to be their teacher... why is Solene with her? I don't remember the details of your setting exactly; I know trained 'mon are often self-sufficient and doing daily life stuff on their own, at least at home... but why is Odette's pokemon working at the school? Was that established already and I just forgot it?

Actually, extend that to her whole team. Has Odette just been without them all during the day? Does every student leave their whole team with this teacher during the day?

Odette gasped under her breath, but when she set her palm against the rough burlap of his disguise, she felt some of the pressure release inside her chest, like the abrupt opening of a swelling wound. She exhaled from her nose, feeling her eyes start to well up under the rage she was breathing out. A new weight crashed down upon her, threatening to take her eyelids down with it.

Without a word, Loïc’s shadowy hand manifested from under his cloak, clutching a miniature plastic water bottle between its pointed claws. The second wave of relief that rushed over her nearly made her burst into tears.

She knew now more than ever that she really could not have been doing what she was doing without her partners.

This was adorable. I don't have much more to say about it. It does kind of hit harder having read the side-story for these two's bonding, but it's still cute to see on its own.

With a calculated Psychic burst, she sent Poliwrath back to its ball, leaving Dorien to withdraw Conkeldurr.

Hm... what happened here? The 'withdraw' makes it sound like Conkeldurr was pulled back to its ball as well, but the rest of the text makes pretty clear it was just sent out. It's also odd that he'd send out a second fighting-type, or one at all to face a psychic... I assume they have to be used in a specific rotation due to the nature of this cycle training method?

Anyway, this cycle training is an interesting method, and I wish we could see more of it. I might have to steal it.

It happened faster than Odette could react. A yelp, a loud crash, and every bit of movement in her peripheral vision ceased. All she could focus on now was the smoking hole in the protective barrier around the wall behind them, before her eyes slid slowly over to Dorien’s panting form, completely unscathed aside from clearly being a little shaken.

This reminds me of Lance's dragonite hyper beaming that Rocket grunt into a wall. I'm both amused at Solene had the power to blast Dorien through the barrier and a little horrified that Dorien just shakes that off.

That said, if Odette's body language didn't give Dorien a clue, there is no way he's going to not recognize this as more than a simple accident. It it had been anyone but Solene, maybe, but there's just no pretending otherwise now. He's gotta know that she knows. Odette's gotta be on high alert.

Dorien set a hand on her shoulder. “It’s fine, Odie. I’m not mad. It was a very impressive show of Psychic, otherwise. Besides, you’re not the one who actually did it, now are you?”

A glimmer of indignation sparked in his eyes as he pinned Solene with a leer. She slowly turned her head to look at him over her shoulder, expression still mostly unreadable on Odette’s end.

“Sorry,” she said, tone as soft as it normally was when she was genuinely apologizing. “My hands slipped.”

HE KNOWS. Solene you blew it, oh no. Surely this won't have any negative consequences.

Despite the shorter chapter, that still took me a minute to get through... and still left me wanting more. I think the lengths were fine as they were before, but that's up to you. I tend to aim for around 6k myself, anyway, so that feels reasonable. Anyways! Hoping the next chapter comes quick since I think you cut this one off early? I'm sitting here like Odile watching the movie play out, hah.
 
Chapter 19 - Oops, She Finally Crashed! New

Sinderella

Angy Tumbleweed
Staff
Location
In Guzma's Closet
Pronouns
She/Her
Partners
  1. sylveon-shiny
  2. gothitelle
  3. froslass
  4. chandelure
  5. mimikyu
White Swan.jpg
Chapter 19: Oops, She Finally Crashed!

Odette spent the rest of class trying to choke back the biting expletives she wanted to scream at Solene. There was a part of her that anguished over the beams that missed Dorien’s head, but fixating on that only threw fuel on the fire within her.

What were you thinking? she thought, firing venomous sidelong glances at the gothitelle throughout Chuquete’s lesson. Are you trying to blow our fucking cover? If it was literally anyone but you, it might have been passable, but you’re the one he drugged! You better say a fat fucking prayer he’s too traumatized to think too hard about it, or so fucking help me, we’re gonna have an enormous problem.

Sounds of an emery board scrubbing over fingernails joined up with her seething internal monologue. I will give credit where it’s due; her control is insane, Odile said. The move, not what she did. Though if she’d been a centimeter more precise she might have eliminated half of our current problem. And we’d probably be in jail.

Not. Now, Odette thought, sinking lower into her seat, trying to duck away from the rage pooling around her skull.

They could talk when they got home. It was their last class of the day. They could go home and have a very long conversation about restraint and trust and everything else it seemed that Odette and her team now had to work through. They were all supposed to be in this mess together, but with Enora’s clandestine past and Solene acting out on her own, how the fuck were they supposed to continue without risking the whole operation?

Valentin was already questioning the idea of keeping them involved, and surely if he found out about this faux pas, he wouldn’t hesitate to pull the plug. After finally having a breakthrough, after finally being able to piece her puzzle together, Odette wasn’t sure if she’d be able to handle being cut off like that. Whatever anger she’d successfully breathed out slithered back into her system and left her gritting her teeth so hard she felt one of her molars shift.

Class being dismissed was the repose her nerves needed, and she was the first one to begin standing and packing up her stuff, recalling her team to their pokeballs as she went. The gym had grown stuffy under the anxiety that sought to exacerbate her aggravation, and Odette knew a breath of crisp, petrichor-laden air might do her head some good. However, she couldn’t look too eager as she gathered her things. She couldn’t risk giving Dorien any more reason to suspect they were onto him, as if nearly being assassinated by the very ‘mon he’d memory wiped wasn’t clue enough.

So help me fucking gods, Odette thought. She was certain she saw steam on the breath she exhaled.

She counted the steps toward the front entrance of the battle building, using that as her distraction from Dorien’s arm slung around her shoulders, and from her brain trying its hardest to figure out how to do some damage control. What could she do that wouldn’t come off as suspicious?

She couldn’t amp the charm up too high; surely it wouldn’t take him long to figure out she was doing it as a distraction. Not to mention, that might be the end of her. She was barely hanging on as it was. She also didn’t want to keep bringing it up, under the possibility that he actually wasn’t thinking about it as hard as she was, and continuously drawing attention back to the incident would cause him to.

Odette had thought she’d toyed with enough niggling “what-if’s” over the past two days. Obviously, the universe didn’t agree with that assessment.

Her first breath of actual fresh air alleviated some of the tightness in her throat. She slanted a glance toward her bike, parked mere paces from the front door of the building among the other student’s motorcycles and mopeds. Her thoughts supercharged with ways to make a break for it—telling Dorien her mum needed her home, that a family member had suddenly died, something—but the fear of sowing more suspicion kept her rooted under his arm. Damn you, Sol, she thought, the weight of his forearm sending tingles of resentment across her skin. Gods fucking damn you right now.

Odile didn’t have a comment for that but Odette could hear the emery board again.

Dorien made his way down the stone stairs, forcing Odette along with him. The further they moved down the willow lined sidewalk, away from where her bike was parked, the more her hope of escaping him sooner rather than later faded out of certainty. They hadn’t seen each other in a week; of course he was going to want to lead her off on an escapade. She knew she should have been prepared for something like that, and yet the thought of having to spend the rest of the day with him churned the nausea in her gut.

“Where are we going?” she asked, forcing herself to look up at him instead of back over at her motorcycle.

The grin she received in response sent discomfort skipping along her nerve-endings. “Nowhere far. I have some previously scheduled plans with my friends and I’ve already rainchecked a few times and if I do it again, I won’t hear the end of it. I’m meeting them out front, and I just wanted you to show some face. Let everyone know you’re alive. Maybe ask if they wouldn’t mind having you along, for my sake. ”

A flare of hope synergized with the disdain of having to fraternize more with his little group. But, she would suck it up if it meant she had a chance to cut away earlier than anticipated. “The trials and tribulations of keeping relationships,” she sighed as if she were teetering on the edge of disappointment.

“I know,” Dorien said, petting her shoulder. “I’d say you’re worth it, but playing the social game is also part of my job. Besides, if we wanted to get technical, we could have seen each other sooner…”

The corner’s of Odette’s lips twitched with the threatening weight of a frown. She lasered in on him with an indignant look. “You’re going to make me apologize again?”

That earned her an abrupt kiss on the cheek. Had she known that was what was coming, she’d have kept her mouth shut. “No; I’m just pushing your buttons. But I’m done, I promise.”

“Are you?”

He held a pinky out to her. “Promise.”

As she wrapped hers around his, the impulse to snap the bone creeped up her back and into a dimly lit corner of her mind.

You better keep that hand steady, bitch.

Odette carefully pulled her hand away and tucked it into her jacket pocket. Safe and sound.

“Okay. I’ll say my hello’s and show them I’m still breathing.” Honestly, I’d prefer it if I was dead to them, she thought. “I have to ask, though; have you ever had to call an ambulance on anyone at one of those events? Just to know for the sake of my own embarrassment.”

“Actually, yes. You saw how many old bitties there were; you’d be surprised how many of them have underlying medical conditions that like to pick public affairs to flare up.” He flicked his hand around with a sarcastic cadence, matching the rhythm of his words.

He said you have the constitution of a grandma. When you eventually kill him, might I suggest a dull hacksaw? Really draws out the agony; I give it a solid eight stars out of 10, Odile snickered.

“Well, I unfortunately know a thing or two about that,” Odette said. She pretended not to hear Odile that time. She wasn’t sure what to do about the contradicting intrusions yet.

“Please, Doll. I wouldn’t exactly group the Duke of Joule’s alcohol-induced liver failure up with your hypotension episodes.” She felt his arm tighten around her shoulders, just slightly enough that she could brush it off as him readjusting, but just obviously enough that the new pressure she felt against the side of her neck lingered like a spoken threat. “Unless there’s some other secret reason why your blood pressure likes to drop?”

The load behind that question sent her pulse into a sprint. A little over 24 hours ago, it would have provoked confusion, maybe even some minute irritation. Now, she felt cold sweat flooding into her pores, contrasting heavily with the blazing fury searing away at the edges of her forced patience. He knew exactly what he was getting at and it made the thought of his demise sit a little easier in her imagination.

“No. Nothing besides me vacating the womb two months too early,” she said earnestly.

There wasn’t much else to be said before the unexpected growl of a car engine made Odette jolt. Dorien stifled a chuckle while he raised his free hand to steady her, then looked up expectantly as not one, not two, but three cars glided through the nearby roundabout and came to a sliding halt by the curb they were standing on.

Upon immediate examination, Odette could see they were exactly the kind of cars Dorien would be associated with. Their radically sleek silhouettes, low-rise builds, and sharp, ultra-modern detailing lent an air of lavishness to them that practically begged her to gawk. She was certainly more of a bike person, but even she wasn’t immune to the splendor of an expensive whip, let alone three of them.

Dorien was shaking his head now. “You know revving the engine like that just makes people think you’re not well endowed, right?”

All three sets of doors practically levitated open, and Odette’s moment of admiration was dashed by the arrival of Dorien’s little posse. All the familiar Lansat faces, plus the one who couldn’t keep his flirting to himself.

“Yeah, but it sounds so cool, I can’t help it,” Colin said, skipping in place like a happy lillipup before sauntering his way up the curb. He ignored Dorien and went straight for greeting Odette. Despite the fact he hung around assholes, he exuded a persona that was palatable in comparison to the others. While she didn’t have to try as hard to seem at ease around him, the fact he willingly hung with the rest of them kept him high on her shit list.

“So, that’s the only answer you really need,” Adam said, laughing at the glare Colin nailed him with. Once he settled himself, he nodded in Odette’s direction. “Sup, ma’am. This guy’s got you hostage again?”

“You know it,” she replied, hoping she didn’t sound as honest as she felt.

“C’mon Dorien, kidnapping is illegal,” Denis said while he exchanged the standard greeting kisses with her. They felt like they lingered just a moment too long.

“So is thinking I have to kidnap my girlfriend to make her hang out with me,” Dorien said. There was a dangerous warning brewing beneath his words, just present enough to send Denis rolling his eyes as he turned back toward the cars.

Whatever slivers of ease she’d found in Colin was lost to that exchange. She struggled to remember anything about the relationship she had with Denis before Vice Dust might have been introduced to the scenario. The blanks she drew tasted of panic and bile, exacerbated by the kiss Lionel suddenly planted on the back of her hand. She jerked her wrist away on instinct, not realizing how that might have looked. The way Dorien jumped between them eased her concerns; however, the outrage digging craters into his brow was a glorious sight to see, even at her own expense.

“Sorry, figured I’d keep our repertoire going,” Lionel smirked, eyeing Dorien with a smug satisfaction while he licked his unnaturally white veneers. “You’re welcome to return the favor to even the field.” He held his hand out as if expecting her to reciprocate.

“No thanks. I feel a cold sore coming on; don’t want to make it worse,” she said. She’d subconsciously started scratching her hand, like she was anticipating a welt to form. She listened to the mocking laughter being thrown around before it was drowned out by another Odile intrusion.

Noooooo, that was a missed opportunity to bite him. Show your fucking dominance, pussy.

That’s easily an assault charge,
she thought. If I’m going down on one of those, it’s not going to be wasted on him.

Okay, I’m enjoying this process of elimination. Very executive of you. But you’re still a pussy.


Her eyeballs ached with the need to roll so she fixated back on the cars while the boys launched into a conversation that she was too poor to follow along with. She visually dissected every curve, every handle, every light on each of the car’s bodies, listening to the way their engines purred in harmony.

It was familiar. And not in a good way.

The one in the front in particular—a white Bugatti with a tasteful red trim and a very noticeable skeledirge decal stuck to the back window—tickled a deep annoyance within her the longer she looked at it. It had felt like she’d seen the exact car before, which was strange, because she was certain she’d never been this close to a Bugatti.

Her eyes then bounced to the other two; a slim light blue beast that she eventually discovered to be from a brand called Pagani, and a dim yellow curve of an Aston Martin. Slitting her eyes, she imagined herself just a few weeks back, sitting at the stoplight with Noel talking her ear off about hair care while she watched with compounding rage as a group of rich dickheads flew through a red light and nearly took them out.

These were those same cars. She recognized the colors. White, blue, yellow.

Crossing her arms to brace herself against her rapidly rising temper, she turned to Dorien.

“These cars look like they belong on a race track, not public roads,” she said, effectively interrupting their conversation about the price of diamonds in Johto or whatever the fuck they were on about.

Dorien gaped at her for a beat before chuckling toward a bemused smirk. “Oh, you noticed? Don’t worry, they get their fair share of racing in. I’m probably the best street racer in our inner circle, and nobody here needs to correct me.”

“Bull-fucking-shit; you’d be the best if the best were good at nearly skidding off fucking bridges,” Lionel retorted, resulting in a full-fledged spat between the two of them. Their arguing only bolstered Odette’s anger, and she felt her nails digging into the fabric of her jacket while her blood began to simmer on high.

Colin sighing pulled her from the boyish quarrel. She offered him a sidelong glance, just in time to catch him shaking his head. “You opened up a can of wurmples there, sis. Last time we went out, we absolutely tore down Metronome boulevard. Right after a storm too; shit was wild. But your idiot boyfriend did almost take out a barrier on an overpass bridge.”

“Which only happened because you distracted me,” Dorien hissed with an aggravated zeal Odette hadn’t yet seen on him. However, she’d become far more occupied with the fact that her little bait for information had worked.

Flashes of that night sped through her mind, just as fast as Dorien’s asshole posse had skidded through that intersection; the corner of Metronome boulevard and Bleakwind road. The red light had meant nothing to them. She and Noel would have been roadkill had she not been paying as much attention as she was. Would they have even stopped?

The sound of those luxury engines reverberating down the street, between the tight school buildings, beat on her eardrums along with the increasing tempo of her heartbeat. She had so many things she wanted to say, most of them starting with some variation of the words “kill” and “yourselves.” With that came the desire to trip Dorien to the floor and start wailing on him, preferably with a metal pipe.

“Careful, the cops will ticket you from here to kingdom come if they catch you.” She shoved her hands into her jogger pockets and went to work at the frayed threads along the seams.

“Wait, Cinq-Marsy, your grandad’s a cop isn’t he?” Denis asked.

She felt Dorien jolt at the nickname, and she also found herself doing a double-take. Familiarity poked tiny holes in her apparent Dust-induced amnesia, but not enough to jog any specific memories. All she knew was that she vaguely recalled that being a common nickname her peers had dubbed her. Grave nostalgia dammed up in her throat and she regarded him with a nod.

“Yeah. The chief.”

The low rumbles of juvenile hoots left Odette wanting to smash one of the car windshields. At least it might keep them from nearly running over some other poor schmuck for a few days. She tugged one of the pocket threads loose and felt a hole open up in the fabric.

“Oh shit. Cop granddaughter,” Lionel sneered. “Dory, you didn’t tell us you were dating a purebred narc.”

Odette decided that Lionel would likely be better company with a fresh bullet in his head.

Wow, you are zero to fucking a hundred today, aren’t you? Odile said. Again, enthusiasm is great, but can we save the actual murder until after we have answers?

Which is it? she seethed. Do you want me to lose my goddamn mind or am I pussy? Pick one, or when I go to sleep tonight, I’m showing up with a bat and playing baseball with your fucking head.

That’s a tough one. Let me consult the 8-ball.

The sound of sloshing water filled her thoughts. She briefly wondered if she could knock Odile—and perhaps herself—out by beating her head against the tree she was standing under. It felt like the only solution for such an asinine situation. Besides, she was sure that Magic 8-balls could only be asked yes-or-no questions.

It says ask again later.

Had Dorien not spoken up, she would have screamed in frustration.

“Guys, come on, Odie’s no snitch. Especially not in my regard, right Doll?”

Odette could practically taste the irony building in the air; thicker than the petrichor ever could be. She decided that allowing herself to laugh about it would be better than harping on the homicidal rage hitching a ride on her train of thought. Anything to keep her from having a meltdown right there on the curb.

“Of course. I know the adage. Snitches get stitches.” The next part felt harder to say. “I can hang.”

Mischief added an obnoxious glow to Lionel’s gray eyes. He gave a slow, dramatic gesture toward the Bugatti. “Well, with that said, are you comin’ along for lunch or what?”

“Oh, no.” That was far too forceful. She saw Dorien shoot a look at her out of the corner of her eye and realized she had to reel it in a little. “I won’t snitch on you, but if my grandpa finds out I fucked around in one of those, believe me, he’d find a way to ground me one last time. No thanks.”

“He’s okay with the motorcycle and not with the fully functional car?” Adam asked with a tilt of his head.

She grinned. “Never said he was okay with the bike.” That was the gods honest truth. “The sole difference is that I’m the only one driving the bike. And I tend to keep within the speed limit on public roads.”

She was proud of herself for being able to sneak a jab in, and it seemed to go over well enough judging by the way Dorien slung his arm back around her.

“Well, are you at least coming to the yacht party?” Denis spoke that time.

That gave her something else to think about that wasn’t destroying those cars or wishing Dorien had indeed driven off a bridge. In their text conversations throughout the week, Dorien had mentioned that another gathering was coming up; a yacht party indeed. The idea of getting back on a boat with him, knowing what he had done the last time they were on one, made her want to decline the invitation. But, this time around, it sounded like they wouldn’t be alone. Not that that would stop him from doing anything nefarious again.

But, if this involved the same group of people that had been at the gala and garden parties, then Valentin would likely be in attendance too, which meant an extra layer of protection. That helped ease her feelings on the matter.

“Oh. Right. Dorien mentioned that in some texts; I guess I am.”

“It’s next week; formal attire. Also, limited seating so unfortunately, no plus ones.”

Colin whining spoke everything she’d wanted to voice out loud. That much was news to her.

“Aw, so I’m not going to see Noel? I was gonna wear my new tux, dammit,” he said.

“I’ll have to break the news to him,” Odette said despite her mind having wandered fifty miles away. She knew that she wasn’t going to be able to drag Noel along to every Shiny Trade gathering Dorien took her to, but it still felt like that monkey wrench was bashing her in the temple. However, she’d survived one boat outing without him. She could manage another one, now that she was armed with knowledge and Valentin’s official protection.

“Are you sure you don’t want to come along?” Dorien asked, rubbing her shoulder as if to urge her into agreeing. “I’m sure you’ve never been in any cars like these, hm? And the invitation is extended.”

His hand against her skin felt like a grater, grinding her down until she had no choice but to say yes. “Grandpa’s strict upbringing still has me in a bit of a chokehold.” But, what choice did she have? She’d been invited without Dorien having to make any requests, and they hadn’t seen each other in over a week. Had Solene not almost decapitated him, she might have had some wiggle room to say no. Now, if she wanted to continue with her damage control, she felt she had no choice but to go along with it.

God fucking damn you Solene.

“So, I’ll just drive myself. See if your cars can stay in line with my lawful pace,” she taunted.

Dorien’s eyes shined with a hint of mischief, enticed by her challenge. He exchanged looks with the rest of his posse before leaving her with a smirk.

“You’re on,” he said. “We’re meeting at Gale Wings Bistro on Hadron road. Know it?”

She actually did know it. She remembered a relatively recent time where she, Acadia, and Noel were looking for a new place to eat, and Acadia had pulled the place up on her phone. After seeing that the cheapest thing on the menu was €40, they quickly realized they were not the target demographic for such an establishment.

“I do. See you there,” she replied, waving her fingers at him and the other prying eyes before making her way back to her bike. She had to focus on tempering her walking speed so she didn’t break into a full-blown sprint. Their eyes were a pressure against her back, one she had to ignore while she donned her helmet and revved the motorcycle to life. The sound was just enough to knock her anger down a notch.

She rolled herself out of the parking spot and down the street, coming to a stop next to the parked cars, still rumbling in place, unoccupied. The fuckface crew remained rooted in the same spots she’d left them in, watching her meander by with varying looks of wide-eyed interest and childlike competitiveness. At least she knew that the sight of a short woman on a motorcycle could momentarily stun them. She wasn’t sure where that information would prove useful, but it was something to remember.

Flipping up her visor, she raised a brow. “Take a picture, it’ll last longer,” she called. Disdain creeped into her words, but most of it was drowned out by the sound of her working motor. She revved it one more time, and after lowering her visor, she sped ahead. It wasn’t long before she heard those rich engines roaring to life behind her.

+++​

They caught up to her rather quickly. Not that she was going particularly fast to begin with, but she wasn’t out for a casual Sunday ride, either. They all came to a stop at the last stop light before the highway leaving Santalune. She’d tried to pretend they weren’t there, but with the Bugatti on her left and the Pagani on her right, she was too cornered to play stupid. She heard the Bugatti’s window roll down, and turned to see Dorien’s stupid sunglasses-covered face making a visual meal out of her.

“You know, I never noticed before. But damn does a motorcycle suit you,” he called. Then he whistled. Never had a sound instilled such a deep sense of disgust in her.

Her grip tightened around her brake lever, and she thanked what was left of her lucky stars that her helmet’s visor was so dark. She could glare at him all she wanted, and he’d never know. She wondered if she could conduct the rest of her dates with him with it on.

“Yes, us shorties tend to do better on bikes. No gas pedal to worry about reaching,” she chided.

She couldn’t see who was in the car with him, but she heard laughter. It joined up with the giggles that echoed through her mind.

You know, I might have called you fat and said you were a dirty cunt, but have I told you that you’re also really funny? Odile said.

Was that your idea of a compliment?

‘Thank you Odile. You are also really funny and might I add, great at bloodstream design,’ Odile replied in a grating falsetto.

Before Odette could get into an internal argument, Dorien was talking again. “Speaking of gas pedals, surely that thing has some more speed on it?”

Canting her head at him, Odette huffed deeply, feeling her breath accumulate against the insulation of the helmet. “Nice try.”

“What, you’re afraid of being out sped by a couple of designer cars?”

“Sounds like it's the other way around.”

The Bugatti’s engine revved, and Odette felt her aggravation spike and her self-restraint wane.

“Come on; you claim to be so good at driving that thing, so show us boys how it’s done. Don’t be so wimpy,” Dorien heckled.

It was such a juvenile attempt at getting under her skin. But the issue at hand was that it was working, which only served to make her more upset.

She was not the most social dater in the past (at least, not that she remembered), but she was friends with enough boys to know how they acted around one another. What some of them spoke about. How some of them spoke about it. She could practically hear Dorien jeering about her riding skills, while being egged on into making more vulgar, sexually charged comments about how women looked on motorcycles.

The desire to press her gas switch down to the handle, to speed through the red light herself just to get away from him and silence the hypothetical commentary, was overpowering. She could tout on and on about her lawful driving practices, but it was evident Dorien knew exactly what to say and do to get her to consider throwing it all out the window. Just when she thought she couldn’t hate him any more, the space for her animosity expanded.

“I’m already doing that,” she said. She pumped the accelerator, just to sate her twitching thumb. As if that was all the stop light needed to change color, red blinked into green. She shot forward, not bothering to wait for any of the other cars around her to kick into gear.

The further she got away from them, the better she felt. The further she got down the highway, the less anger steamed her blood. It was amazing how quickly her strife and woes could be blown off by a speedy motorcycle ride down an open road. It was also amazing how quickly they could return by being passed up by six idiots in cars that likely would have killed her a few weeks ago.

It was obvious bait for her to follow, and despite her wrath-fueled desire to keep up, they’d already topped the speed limit ten times over what she’d decided to push it. The way they weaved in and out between the lanes also left her eye twitching, and she began to slow down out of spite.

Fuck that,” she spat into her helmet. She’d gotten her fill. Now she could sit back and watch them be problematic dickheads from a safe distance, and she’d deal with the subtle digs about her apparent wimpiness when she got to the cafe.

Boys will be boys, Odile said in a deep sigh.

“Oh, do you consider yourself a male connoisseur now?” There was nobody around to hear, so it’s not like she had any reason to keep her responses internal.

There’s not much to be a “connoisseur” about. Most of them have the complexity of a single-celled organism.

“Good one,” Odette said, feeling the humored smirk playing on her lips. Sometimes Odile was capable of being funny. At least, when she wasn’t dropping that type of commentary in the middle of Odette fighting hypothetical tooth and nail not to lose her shit.

Still, she couldn’t quite afford to linger so far behind. She had a general idea of where Hadron road was, but it would be much easier to just follow along. So, she picked up the pace, just enough to ensure she could see the Aston Martin up ahead.

While it bobbed in and out between the other cars on the road, she could still catch sight of it from far off. However, with the gas the group was trying to put on those cars, it wasn’t long before she could no longer see them, even from a safe distance.

“Mother fucker,” she grumbled under her breath, leaning into a little more speed. Part of her started to wonder if that was a sign to just drive her ass home and forego the outing altogether. But, she could practically feel RotomPhone buzzing with accusatory texts from Dorien, wondering why she ditched him, and perhaps accusing her for setting Solene up for nearly decapitating in class.

Gods fucking damn you Solene.

The thought fueled her pressure on the accelerator, and she looped between lanes and slow-moving sedans to attempt to catch up with them. Bernard’s warnings about keeping a lawful speed once again rang in her head, as did images of that night she and Noel had nearly been run over. But, at that moment, she didn’t care. She decided that the faster she caught up, the faster the outing would finish, and the faster she could get home and scream bloody metaphorical murder into her pillow.

SCREEEEEEEEEEEEEEEECH.

A car she hadn’t seen coming suddenly tried to cut into her lane, not fully in front of her enough to allow for a safe clearance. It was mere centimeters from her front tire, and she swerved away to avoid impact, which subsequently landed her in front of a pickup truck going at least 20 miles over the speed limit.

Her brain didn’t have enough time to register what was happening. Instead, her body, and all the muscle memory she’d gained from years of operating a motorcycle, shifted into gear, and with a sharp turn of her handlebars, a calculated grip on the brake lever, and a loud and very wet shriek out of her tires, she was on the shoulder of the road, facing the opposite direction she’d been coming from.

Once the stillness registered with her, only then did she really begin to understand what had just happened.

A fucker who couldn’t drive, she tried to avoid it, and some poor sap in a truck nearly hit her…

Were she not as skilled with a motorcycle as she was, she’d have surely been roadkill, and her ghost would have been faced with the brunt end of Bernard’s grief-stricken I-told-you-so’s, and the eternal knowledge that she never got to kiss Valentin on the lips. As if she’d needed more of those to weigh down her psyche.

For a long moment, all she could hear was her heartbeat. The car tires driving over the wet asphalt, and the occasional horn registered to her as mere background noise as she stared down the barrier gate she’d come to an abrupt park next to.

No…fucking…way…

In the seven years she’d owned and operated a motorcycle, this was the first time she had ever been run off the road. She’d fallen learning to ride it, she’d had very close calls, but never that close. Of course, it had to happen today of all days. The day that was already batting a thousand, with thousands more likely coming.

Odette, take a breath. Odile’s voice was the loudest she’d heard it all day, and yet it still didn’t register within her. Not over her own thoughts, which had built up in intensity over such a short period of time.

Why do bad things keep happening to me?

Odette, STOP, YOU’RE TOO—

Warmth engulfed her senses, drowning out the frigid air and numbing the weight on her stomach. When she opened her eyes again, the left had gone dark, but it was the least of her concerns.

The shriek that came out of her was otherworldly. It was a culmination of her building vexation over the past 24 hours. It was everything she wanted to say, do, break, rolled into one single agonized sound.

She only stopped when a nearby street lamp exploded.

The sound of it jolted her back to her senses, abruptly shedding off the warmth and regaining the full range of her vision. That gave her just enough time to reel around and watch the glass fall to the ground in front of her bike. The sight of it barely registered with her before her knee joints disintegrated into jelly, and she sank to the asphalt while the world around her blurred into a mess of grays and whites. She had just enough sense to cling to the barrier gate, keeping her from totally collapsing onto her rear.

I’m…kill…stupid asshole…you…!

Odile sounded like she was speaking through a phone with a spotty signal. Odette couldn’t make out any one complete sentence, as most of the words waned into a distorted din that left her feeling lightheaded.

Do you…understand…bad…?

“I can’t…” Odette panted. Her cheek fell against her arm, still being held up by her iron grip on the railing. “…hear you…”

She wondered if she could reach one of her Pokeballs. She’d locked them, as was protocol when operating an open vehicle such as a motorcycle. Their voice activation keys would unlock them, but in her haze, Odette couldn’t remember what she’d set them to.

That was…close…

Water, Odette realized. I need water.

She’d left her bottle at home, but Loïc had come in clutch with that second bottle. She finally willed her hand to let go of the railing, and reached around to the side pocket of her backpack to grab the small bottle. Shaky hands took far too long to get it open, and she didn’t have the cap fully off before she was trying to pour it into her mouth. Some of it splashed across her cheeks and dribbled down her chin and into the collar of her jacket. But, just enough made it into her mouth to perk her back up.

The highway before her reformed, her headache settled, and the static filling her head faded away into absolute clarity.

CAN YOU HEAR ME NOW, YOU ROOM TEMPERATURE IQ, THICKER-THAN-A-WHORE’S-FREE-CLINIC-BILL, WALKING, TALKING TRAINWRECK OF A GNOME?

Odette cried out and slapped a hand to her head, feeling her eardrum vibrating with the residuals of Odile’s scream.

“Yeah, loud and clear,” she winced, hanging her head between her knees. “Too clear. Lower your voice. And don’t call me a gnome.”

SHUT YOUR FUCKING MOUTH BEFORE I ENCASE YOUR VOCAL CORDS IN CONCRETE. Same volume. Odette was covering both of her ears now. DO YOU HAVE ANY IDEA HOW CLOSE THAT WAS? WHAT DID I FUCKING TELL YOU?

Stop yelling,” Odette growled to nothing. ”Please, I’m already struggling to keep my thoughts straight.”

Yeah, isn’t that the truth, Odile hissed. You are so lucky. You are SO amazingly fucking lucky, do you know that?

“Hard to call myself lucky when I’m barely clinging to consciousness on the side of a highway. Enlighten me, oh wise one.”

Odile’s cackle held no joy. You damn near forced me out. I had to hang on for dear life, you absolute paragon of an assholeism. You couldn’t tell? You didn’t feel anything different?

She had to think about it a little harder than usual, but Odette found herself shaking her head. “No, I definitely felt it. It felt…exactly like it did in the garden. When you repelled the desmocula.”

Huh! Crazy how that works! Odile said. That time, I poked out to save your ass on my own volition, but this time? All you. All you, yourself, and every other stupid part about you. Doing the exact thing I warned you not to do. Did I mention that you’re stupid? Because you’re STU—

I got it!” Odette yelled.

Odile finally shut up, leaving just the sound of the passing cars as Odette’s company. As she sat there, replaying the past five minutes in her head, the feeling of moisture dripping down her cheek finally registered with her. Her breath hitched upon remembering the garden fiasco again, and she raised her trembling hand to wipe it away.

The blood coating her fingertips caused discontent to take root in her chest. This was the second time it had happened. Now, she had a full understanding of why it did, and that only set her teeth on edge. Crying blood was peak possession bullshit. She’d watched enough horror films to know that for a fact.

She steeled herself with a steadying breath before pushing herself up to stand, dragging her rebooting body over to get a good look at her rearview mirrors. She saw what was left of that crimson tear streak, it having traced the front of her cheek in its entirety before stopping just below her chin. Using her palm, she wiped the rest of it away, blinking rapidly to ensure there was none in her eye. She hadn’t felt or seen any, but she couldn’t be too sure.

“Is that supposed to happen?” she asked.

It’s a side effect of me coming to the forefront and physically inhabiting your body. So, yes. Kind of.

Odette sniffled at her reflection, then went to work trying to smooth out her hair. “Don’t you already inhabit my body?”

I inhabit your soul. It’s separate, Odile bit out. I can bang around in here as much as I like, but taking on your physical skin is a whole different beast, and is what just naturally happens on my way out the door as a technically uncaught blood type. For future reference, since we’re talking about it.

So, in the event that Odile did eventually come out, Odette would have to experience the discomfort of her eye bleeding again. That is, until she formally caught Odile. If she formally caught Odile. She made a reluctant mental note of that.

Now, more than ever, she was ready to go home. Both incidents—nearly being hit again and nearly expelling Odile—had surely taken decades off her lifespan, and now, she just craved a nap of an indeterminate length. If she wasn’t keen to sit through a lunch with Dorien and company before, she certainly wasn’t now. Especially knowing she’d already gotten so close to forcing Odile out, and he wasn’t even in her general vicinity. Who’s to say just laying eyes on him wouldn’t set her off on a second round of having a demonic tantrum?

At that thought, she snuck one more wary glance at the shattered glass from the street light.

“What caused that?” she asked.

Odile’s response was delayed. I feel like you’ve dealt with enough magical type Pokemon to know what the answer to that is.

Odette nodded to herself. Sometimes, a powerful enough ghost, or even psychic or fairy type, had strong enough magical energies that if they simply exerted themselves a little, they could cause certain technologies to go haywire—ranging from slight interference to absolute explosions. Vienna had explained it multiple times; something about strong magical energies being able to override those exerted by electronics and the like.

Of course, she should have expected as much out of something like Odile. Whatever hellish power she had under her legendary belt would likely put any of the magical-type 'mon she lived with to complete shame.

Odette briefly hoped the street lamps didn’t have built in cameras. She wasn’t sure how she’d go about explaining that one if she somehow got pulled in for questioning about vandalizing public property. Sorry, it wasn’t entirely my fault. The energy of the demonic legendary in my soul mostly caused that.

She could practically see a padded room in her future.

Running one last finger under her eye, Odette made doubly sure she’d gotten all of the blood off her water line and lower lid. She also checked to make sure none had dripped on her jacket or pants, finding, fortunately, that her white outfit remained unblemished. One less thing to be concerned about.

After deciding her head had mostly cleared, and that hydrating had left her feeling awake enough to drive, she moved to get back on her motorcycle. However, the lasting adrenaline in her system coiled up in her chest, squeezing with a vigor that left her shuddering in fear.

That had been way too close. She’d once again fallen victim to her rage and had nearly paid the ultimate price for it. Would Odile have been able to help her out of being crushed under a pickup truck? That was a question she decided she was happy to not know the answer to.

It wouldn’t be the last time she got angry today. Not by a long shot. But that would be the first and only time she let it put her in such a precarious situation.
 

Seren

Lurking
Staff
Pronouns
He/Him
Partners
  1. sableye
HI I decided to spend my midnight reading this instead of RPing, oops. (That'll come tomorrow, promise.)
I... have surprisingly little to say about this chapter. I feel like I struggle to spend an entire chapter in just one or two scenes sometimes which I feel leads to some pacing issues, and this was a good lesson in heavy-but-not-overwhelming internal monologue to help deal with that. Anyway, considering all the things that one might imagine setting off the bomb only to have this tip the scale, I feel like you did a good job here of building up Odette's irritation to a breaking point without it feeling like it came out of nowhere. (Solene helped with that, but once you're in a bad mood, it's far easier to get frustrated at every little thing afterwards.)

.
Odile didn’t have a comment for that but Odette could hear the emery board again.

I didn't actually realize this was Odile providing the sound the first time; I thought Odette herself was filing her nails as Odile spoke. This... makes a lot more sense. Anyways... there's a lot of internal stewing here, which only highlights the awkward silence when Dorien walks her out passed her bike. (If they were making small talk on their way out, it wasn't noted, prior to dragging her towards his friend group.) Juicy.

“Bull-fucking-shit; you’d be the best if the best were good at nearly skidding off fucking bridges,”

We know what Odette will be dreaming about tonight.

“Well, are you at least coming to the yacht party?”

A yacht party, jfc :mewlulz:

That gave her something else to think about that wasn’t destroying those cars or wishing Dorien had indeed driven off a bridge.

Oh, okay, not waiting until bedtime then.

“Come on; you claim to be so good at driving that thing, so show us boys how it’s done. Don’t be so wimpy,” Dorien heckled.

It was such a juvenile attempt at getting under her skin. But the issue at hand was that it was working, which only served to make her more upset.

If the chapter title didn't give it away, I'd be starting to get worried about now.

The way they weaved in and out between the lanes also left her eye twitching, and she began to slow down out of spite.

That's more like it.

Once the stillness registered with her, only then did she really begin to understand what had just happened.

Huh. Okay, not a physical literal crash then, just a mental breakdown. Probably should have seen that one coming, but didn't.

Crying blood was peak possession bullshit

Noted. :mewlulz:

I inhabit your soul. It’s separate, Odile bit out. I can bang around in here as much as I like, but taking on your physical skin is a whole different beast, and is what just naturally happens on my way out the door as a technically uncaught blood type. For future reference, since we’re talking about it.
So, in the event that Odile did eventually come out, Odette would have to experience the discomfort of her eye bleeding again. That is, until she formally caught Odile. If she formally caught Odile. She made a reluctant mental note of that.

Hm. Okay, so definitely possible that Odile can fully take over Odette's body if she wanted/was allowed, albeit with some side effects. This seems to imply that Odile can physically come in and out of her at will, also, again with the side effects of a bloody eye. (I actually forgot she physically came out last time as opposed to like... a manifestation/representation. A personal issue, I know, but I tend to lose sight of events in between chapters due to time.) I'm not sure how being caught would change that, but something to keep en eye on. (Heh.) I guess the idea is that with Odile being formally in a ball, she wouldn't be inside Odette anymore? That feels too simple an explanation, given what I know of the pair, but maybe I'm meta-gaming this too hard.


It wouldn’t be the last time she got angry today. Not by a long shot.

She's still got the entire afternoon with the pit crew to look forward to, after all! :copyka:
 
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