Four on the Floor, Part Twelve - Steemit Exclusive Urban Fantasy
Part Twelve
“If you say ‘Challenge accepted’, Parsival, I swear to God I will order you to jump off Victory Tower.”
And that’s the other. I’m not bitter, why do you ask?
The self-proclaimed half-sidhe has stopped walking, his voice smaller. “You… you wouldn’t really do that, would you?”
“No. But don’t treat this, or me, like it’s going to end in sex. It won’t. Full. Fucking. Stop. I am trying to solve a murder, okay? A murder. That is more important to me than your libido. I’m only going along with you because I do not want someone tagging along or helping me against their will.” I turn to face him, beckon him over. “Now are you going to tell me where you’re going, or are you going to feed into the stereotype of a guy who doesn’t know how to talk to a woman he’s not trying to have sex with?”
There’s a bit of a huff from him, but Parsival starts walking again, at least. “I’m not a satyr, you know. And I’ll have you know it’s been a while since I-“
“Oh my god, I don’t care. Seriously. Can we just get to the station in peace? I had a gun to my head not half an hour ago, so please? Just a little quiet for now?”
“Well, it makes sense why you’re a necromancer, now.” I don’t respond, but… “Because you know, the dead don’t… talk… and.. uh…” He’s doing his best attempt at a tension-breaking smile but it’s only finding resting bitch face. “Yeah, um, I’ll just shut up for now.”
It’s not too long of a walk to the station, but the Blue Line is still a minute out. I don’t have my UTA pass, so, grandly, he swipes his for me, even throwing in a courtly bow. I do thank him, but no curtsey, I don’t if the bow isn’t sincere.
It’s weird that the Blue Line has an automated voice, but maybe it’s a test plan. Given that it tells me to “mind the gap”, I’m guessing it’s something they got from England.
This isn’t my first time on the UTA system, obviously. I’ve “seen the weird” before, including vampires, demons, lycanthropes, the odd satyr, a few nature spirits here and there. I expect that we’d get on the train heading back to Allora, as people as pretty as Parsival tend to congregate where the rich people are. That’s generally how society works, after all, but instead we’re heading the opposite direction, toward the Benedict.
Less humans at every stop, and they all avoid me. It’s nothing new, really, mostly I’m ignored. When people do look in my direction it’s in the same way you’d look at someone who spat on your cat. I prefer it when they just ignore me.
“Where are we going, by the way?” I finally ask him once the train is moving.
“To the 90th and V station!”
That was… far too cheery to be anyone on this train.
“You heard him,” Parsival says with a shrug before leaning back in the now vacant seat next to me. “90th and V.”
“Who is him?” I look around. The voice seemed to come from above, but that’s the train’s automated voice. Unless they actually have some overly chipper guy in the driver’s compartment?
“The… train?” He chuckles, incredulously. “What, you’ve never chatted with Marvin? He only really talks to Keth.” I stare at him. “What? Why are you looking at me like that?”
“The train… is named Marvin?” This shouldn’t throw me as much as it does. I mean, I talk to spirits, dead people. I put one in a plastic skull, it shouldn’t be too much of a stretch that someone could put one in a train. Still, I wouldn’t want to imagine eternity as the literal Blue Line train. Certainly wouldn’t have me in a good mood.
“I wouldn’t talk about him when he’s in the… well. I guess he is the room.” He motions toward the speaker. “Go ahead. Talk to him. It’s not a trick, I’m not a phouk.”
“Marvin?”
“Greetings! Is there anything I can do to make your ride more pleasant?” His voice is almost sickly sweet, like if you crossed a puppy with an approval-seeking little brother.
“Not right now? I’ll uh, let you know. Thank you, though, for the polite and kind offer.”
The lights on the train brighten a tad in response.
Okay…
I’ve had enough weird for the day. I reach into my pockets so I can retrieve and put in my earbuds. I need something steady right now, and MIDI-era techno will supply that. I close my eyes, tap my phone a few times, and drown out the world for a few minutes.
I ignore Parsival’s taps on my shoulder.
I still ignore them a few minutes later when they’re a bit more forceful.
When he starts shaking me, I open my eyes and find a blade pointed at my throat, held by a tall, very pretty man with lightly golden skin, golden hair, and silver eyes.
Seriously, just… fuck today.
Slowly, I raise one hand while taking out my earbuds with the other, the music still buzzing in them while I look up at the man. I get a look at his clothes, which look like a tailored suit for a second before they blur into high courtly regalia. He’s in the middle of the aisle, the blade, what looks like an saber, covering the distance between us. A few inches are between the point of the saber and my throat, but I’m sure he can cover the distance if so inspired.
Manners, A.J., manners…
“Good sir? Might I ask what vexes you so about me that such action is necessary?”
“You harbor this one, Lady…?”
“Good sir, is it not proper manners for a gentleman to introduce himself properly to a lady before requesting her name?”
He manages a slight smile, “Of course, my Lady. I am Lord-“
I scoff slightly. “No, no, no, my good sir, were you not taught to bow to a Lady whilst introducing yourself?”
His lips press to a thin line, jaw setting. The, well, it’s likely a Fae, starts to bend forward.
“Your sword, good sir. One does not have a weapon drawn during a proper introduction, were you not instructed in protocol?” I have an idea.
“Yes.” There’s a slight grimace on his face now. I honestly can’t believe that this is working. I grip the underside of my seat, nudge Parsival with my knee, who gets the message, and does the same. The Fae sheathes the saber, and begins the courtliest of bows, “I am Lord-“
“Marvin! Stop the train right now!”
The brakes screech like the world’s tearing in half, and I’m thankful we’re on a straight stretch, otherwise we’d derail. Luckily, well, not luckily, because inertia doesn’t give a damn about random fortune, the Fae topples over, and quickly receives a swift kick in the head with the point of my Doc Marten. He’s out, thankfully, and the 90th and V station isn’t too far.
“Marvin, could you open the door, please?”
“But we’re not close to the station!” The train sounds scared, worried.
“We can walk the rest of the way. You um, you did a good job. You helped me a lot. Just stay here and rest for a few minutes, okay?” I can’t believe I’m talking to a train, but today’s been weird enough and I guess when it rains, it pours.
“A.J., you just kicked a sidhe noble in the head.” His tone is a little too foreboding for my taste, so I kneels next to the “noble” and unbuckle the sword and sheathe so he can’t chase us with a deadly weapon. I’m not going to kill him, because I’m not a murderer and I don’t want his dead ass following me around. “Wait, you’re taking his sword?”
I toss it to him, and he catches it on reflex, staring at it like it’s lit dynamite. “Ugh. I bested him, I’m taking his weapon as a trophy and Parsival, I bequeath his sword to you. So sayeth the Keth. Let’s fucking go, already!”
The scabbard glows, for a few seconds, and he doesn’t seem as nervous now. Instead, he helps to push open the doors while the Fae groans, regaining consciousness. The two of us climb down onto the tracks and start running toward the 90th and V station.
Seriously, just… fuck today.