Jordan (Guest) (Chapter 8):
I know if you're coming into this story expecting Macon/Lila all the time and only getting Macon-centric chapters for a while would really be a bummer- but trust me: This is all working in building a plot in which they will meet, and go on to have many chapters centered around the two of them.
Dark Horse Writer (Chapter 8):
I apologize, for I must have worded my previous reply oddly. Yes, I understand there's always room for improvement, but the fact that there's no 'new advice' so-to-speak from last time is a good sign of progress, right? Also, there will be more about Boo's relationship with Macon later in the story. In a nutshell, basically Boo was trained to be a Caster dog, but not just a Caster dog- a Caster dog for Incubi, since he's practically a Ravenwood family heirloom, right? (I'm assuming from the book canon that Boo has some sort of unnaturally long lifespan of sorts) So as of now I'm making Boo curious of this one Ravenwood who's not like the others, and being a conscious, thinking creature, later decides that Macon's views on Incubi are correct and Silas' aren't, and sides with Macon and basically becomes his buddy.
Chapter 9- Momma's Boy
Macon eventually opened his eyes, quickly realizing he wasn't sitting in the grass and mud of the woods anymore, but in a bed in a sunlit room. He knew from the sunlit part that it wasn't Ravenwood, so Hunting or Silas hadn't found him while he was out cold. He began looking around, trying to find something that might tell him about who found him and where he was.
The bed was on an old metal frame with a head and foot board made out of bent pipe-like material. The mattress wasn't the best, and by the shabby state of the sheets and quilt that covered him, he knew he must be in a guest bedroom of sorts. A small cherry wood dresser sat across from the bed, a coat hanger covered in clothing to the left of it. A small nightstand of the same dark wood sat to his left, only with a coaster and a glass of water donning it. The only other attributes were the old wood floors, the light yellow striped wallpaper, and the window at the other side of the room, which had slightly transparent white curtains that allowed the light to flow into the grabbed the glass, drinking a bit before attempting to stand up. Much to his surprise, he didn't fall, and only wobbled for a few seconds until he finally got balanced. The walked the handful of yards slowly, pulling back the curtains the same way. When he revealed what was behind them to himself, his grey eyes sparkled with wonder like a child.
The New Orleans street contained buildings that were two stories high at a minimum, and almost every non-ground floor contained a roofed balcony. It appeared that he was on the second floor of one of the many buildings, but wether it contained higher levels was a mystery to him. Flags ranging from countries to simply old masked faces from Mardi Gras lined the streets, waving welcomingly in the slight breeze. Ivy and moss grew up the buildings, giving them a pleasantly rustic feel. Even though it seemed to be early in the morning, the sidewalks were bustling with people and the streets were packed with cars. Jazz music that was really a lone trumpet player on the street hit his ears as he opened the window, poking his head out. He felt like a child at the circus for the first time. So full of awe and amazement. The smell of sweet breakfast foods wafted from the streets, making it even more magical.
"Amazing, isn't it?" A voice asked from behind him, causing Macon to whip his head around abruptly. The voice belonged to a woman he hadn't seen since the day she left Ravenwood, her eyes bloodshot and puffy from crying as a tiny version of him watched her leave for the last time. He immediately recognized her dark brown hair that was almost black and her sparkling hazel eyes. He ran to her without question, wrapping his arms around her. "Momma" he gasped, nuzzling into the crook of her neck as she ran her long fingers through his hair, tears welling up in her eyes. "My baby." Arelia murmured, kissing his cheek. "-my baby boy...I should've never left without you..." She cried as he wrapped his arms around her tighter. "-but I'm here now." He said optimistically. His mother nodded, breaking the hug as a way to force herself to stop crying. She wiped her tears with her fingers, pulling herself together quite quickly, as if this was something that happened very often to her.
She sat next to him on the bed, not going into any deep questions just yet. "-you had quite the head wound..." She commented, fluffing his hair gently. "If you were a Mortal you would've probably been dead by the time I got you." Macon raised his eyebrows, but she went on before he could speak. "-Prudence Statham is an old friend of mine, and Lucille Ball is a gift I gave to her. I got a letter about how the world you were in there had practically eaten you alive, and I wasted no time coming to take you away from your bastard father and your terrible life. But when I arrived, there was only Boo, who led me straight to you- all bloody with a gash on your head. You better thank the Lord your mama knows wound sewin', or you would've bled out right then and there." Macon simply looked up at her instead of giving thanks, knowing that she'd only say something to the affect of 'that's what Mommas' are for'. After a few minutes of silence, simply enjoying each other's company, Arelia finally added "Let's get you some breakfast. Your little sister's probably chompin' at the bit to get some food." She said with a slight smile tugging her lips upward.
The home was a lot like the guest room- it looked lived in, but not too lived in. Just like Ravenwood. The walls were mostly bare, since family photographs were hard to come by and would've just given them bad memories. He walked down the stairs behind her, realizing he had been changed into a clean dry set of his own clothes, minus shoes, his belt, and his suit jacket. The rumpled dark button-up with a combo of the wrinkled pants and lack of shoes made him look less like a gentleman and more like a teenager who had woken up late for work.
The kitchen was modest, painted a creamy yellow that had faded to almost beige, the cabinets white and peeling, but in the way it seemed that they were used and cared for. Arelia lit the gas stove, grabbing a black pan and a carton of eggs from their refrigerator.
"-you like eggs, Cher?"
"Yes, ma'am"
"You don't need to 'ma'am' me, son." Her lips curved into a smile.
"Yes, ma- Momma."
She smirked "That's more like it. Now, how'dya like 'em done?"
"Scrambled, please."
She kept making his breakfast as footsteps neared the entrance to the room, grey eyes identical to his peering over the side of the wall.
"You're not hiding from anyone, Cher. Now come say hello to your brother."
She obeyed, slowly showing herself. Her hair was a mass of long, dark waves, her body tall and thin. "-hello." She said abruptly, refusing to make eye contact as she pulled out a chair, sitting across from him. "Hi." He replied, taking her in. "-you're so old...the last time I saw you, you were just a baby." He added, mesmerized by the sudden new concept of having a sister.
"Yeah, I guess." She shrugged, her long hair hiding her face like a curtain. She looked down at the bowl of bland cereal she had come in with, eating to avoid conversation. 'Who am I kidding? She doesn't remember me. I'm a complete stranger' he thought to himself as Arelia sat down three plates filled with fluffy scrambled eggs and sizzling bacon. When a plate was given to her, Leah's eyes opened wide, grinning from ear to ear "thank you, momma!" "Thank your brother, Cher. If it wasn't for him bein' here today would've been another cereal Thursday." She let out a light chuckle as she glanced at her two children. "My two babies. Together at last." "What about Hunting?" He asked abruptly, the room suddenly going quiet. Eventually her head turned to him.
"-I dunno much about what's happened over the years, Macon. But I do know your brother is a prime example of a radical Ravenwood- especially your father's branch since they're not the brightest bulbs." She commented sternly, "I disowned him. Heard in the Tunnels he was runnin' with a Blood Pack over the state line in Georgia, and that's not how I raised my boys. Any of you, for that matter." eyeing both of them. "Yes, ma'am." They replied in unison, theirs heads down as if her gaze would incinerate them. "Good." She smirked, enjoying the superiority she had when it came to her children. She loved them, but at the end of the day they needed to know who was 'top dog'. After her slight outburst of authority, the three went back to eating. Besides the crunch of bacon and the light clang on silverware against plates, no one spoke. Macon heard birds chirping, glancing at the kitchen window. It was open, allowing sweet May air into the house, a sparrow sitting on the outer edge of the windowsill, singing its sweet song. He let out a sigh to himself, taking a sip of milk as the breeze slightly moved his hair.
He felt like he was home.
Well, that's all for this chapter! I hope you enjoyed it, and please review if you did!
