Death Of A Dimension - Part 3

Death Of A Dimension - Part 3

[This story has been co-authored with DawnCharger. Again I would also like to Thank Myrios “Malak” LeJeans player for allowing us to use his RP hub (The Rift) as the centre of many of these stories and for his input to the roleplay.

To recap; Ceara, Faolán and Alpharius have been visiting The Rift in Dublin every night for a number of days. They still have no idea if she has received the pocket safe supplied by Mr LeJean, but are ever hopeful. Again they have arranged to meet just before 6pm, in the hope that tonight will be the night.]

{{In the ‘present’ time and dimension - Ceara, Faolán and Alpharius return to The Rift. This time in Dublin}}

A Return To The Rift

Ceara waits for Alpharius and Faolán in the street outside The Rift in Dublin.

To the mundane inhabitants she is another young woman waiting for a friend near the row of shops, none of which look like The Rift. To others walking past, the shop she is in front of would appear to be empty with a sign advertising that a generously termed lease is available.

She is dressed in a short red denim mini, a red toga-like top and strappy heels. Those with the sight would also see the Katana on her left side and an arcane focus on her right hip.

This was the fourth night they had come to the shop and she was looking up and down the street impatiently. It was 5.50pm and there was still no sign of either Faolán or Alpharius.

At about five to six Faolán walks quickly down the street towards her, he is wearing a green suit and looking really quite dapper. They hug as he greets “Hi sis, been waiting long?” She responds grinning “Hi Poo … and always for you …” (Faolán had been blessed with this nickname many years ago by his sister when they were very much younger. Initially it was Poo-Head. But you know how it goes).

Returning the hug warmly, her eyes drift to the ring on his left ring finger. She has sort of grown used to the idea that he doesn’t want to return home. Although she does hold out a little, probably unrealistic hope that Áiny will be able to change his mind.

Faolán chuckles and they continue to talk quietly while waiting for Al to appear.

Ceara smiles softly and snarks “How is the Brat. The last time I saw her she was positively glowing, and I’ve had that ring you brought her, ‘accidently’ stuck in my face so many times …”

“‘Accidentally’ my ass,” an amused voice says from nearby, causing both Ceara and Faolán to chuckle. This comment is accompanied by faint footsteps that echo behind them in a steady rhythm. A figure dressed in an old, weathered dark green suit strides forth, a matching overcoat hiding his gait in the shadows. Violet eyes scan the area before settling on Ceara and Faolan. The ghost of a smile curls against a scarred face.

“Hey pups.”

He also has taken note of the fleck of silver on Faolan’s left hand and nods, but makes no further comment “Where are we on things?”

Ceara turns to their destination, which to them looks like a respectable bookshop, “I hope she turns up tonight. I know we agreed on two weeks … But what if she doesn’t show. I guess that means we will have to find another way for us to go home?”

She glances back to Faolán who is fiddling with the new silvery band on his left ring finger. As is so frequently the case with these two, he responds to an unheard question and looks up and gives his head the smallest of shakes, adding aloud;

“For your sake, I hope she does come to the bookshop. I know how much you want to go home.” He gives a small wry smile, “And I’d like to say goodbye to Áiny at least. I wish I could see mum and Da too.”

He glances at Alpharius, “I doubt you’d find meeting them to be … positive. You think mum here is dangerous … you don’t want to see how ‘there’ Mum and Da would be if they thought you were the ‘there’ Alpharius.”

He sighs wistfully, “It’s probably for the best that they weren’t invited.”

Alpharius grunts but concedes the point with a shrug. This version of Aath tolerated him like a coiled spring, and that was with Roxana and Atreus in the mix. Without bonds of family and blood… Still. It sucked for Faolán to miss out on bidding his parents farewell, even if he still had the versions here. He considers voicing this but thinks better of it; even if they’re the same, they’re not.

“There’s at least your sisters,” he offers, “as well as putting all of this to rest. Been a helluva ride … all this mess.”

Ceara listened quietly to her brother and felt a little sad and happy at the same time. Giving a small sigh behind a warm smile, she’s now positive in her own mind that Áiny will be unlikely to change his mind.

Ironically, Half of her wants to stay, to see Poo and Brat make a go of it. Daydreaming quickly, wondering what it’d be like to be an aunt. She gives her head a little shake; she loves Astra but also wants to strangle the woman for stealing Poo. Ceara’s path was home.

She nods and gives him an understanding smile regarding wanting to see mum and Da. She totally agrees with his thoughts regarding a possible meeting between the ‘there’ Mum and Da and Alpharius.

Then giving a little chuckle, “It’s strange, but I just can’t separate ‘here’ mum and Da and ‘there Mum and Da, in my mind. They are the same … and still different. Like, how we think they’d react to unc here.” She indicates Alpharius.

Looking back to Faolán she gives a little shrug “I hope having them here makes it easier.”

She looks back to Alpharius when he tries to support Faolán, “This … This is a prime example of just one of the stark differences in our worlds.”

Ceara then huffs a little still looking at Al, “Well, we can stand out here being melancholy all night while Áiny comes and goes … or we can get this done.” She pauses a second, “And yeah … it’s been wild.”

Turning she opens the door and as the now familiar bell tinkles, she enters and places her Katana in the umbrella stand.

Faolán follows her in and slides his Remington alongside it.

Alpharius walks in after them. “It’ll be weird not having you around anymore, pup. You’re good company.” His Damascus steel Ulfberht goes into the stand alongside their weapons, though the Glock 36 at his 4 o’clock stays comfortably within its holster under his coat. He was all for good appearances, but even as a Bee, he wasn’t in a hurry to go completely unarmed outside of his cabin.

He idly wonders what kind of ass the other version of him must be if even talking to these two would be out… Granted, this was still transactional–he was here to help as a favour to their baby brother, even if only Faolán would be around for Atreus in the long run. Plato had long ago outlined that the folly of altruism was a fool’s errand. No matter what Roxana’s stance on the matter.

He steps in and, as usual, positions himself with his back to a wall. A hand slips into his overcoat and feels around a breast pocket–cigar tube, loose gold nugget (where the fv<k had that come from?), ring… ah there was his flask. He had an odd, sudden kinship with the local racoon quartet as he took a quick pull of smoky Islay Scotch, then put it away.

Ceara looks about the store and gives a disappointed sigh. There was no Áiny, at least not yet. She wanders over and leans on the wall next to Alpharius glancing at him as he takes a pull from his flask and then puts it away, she raises an amused brow.

Flashing that smile, which just has to be a family trait, “Aww … you’re going to miss me … that’s too cute …” Then gives a soft chuckle adding, “It is going to be a little strange … getting used to needing to kill you on sight again, when I get home … the other you that is.”

Next: Death Of A Dimension - Part 4

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