"…there's got to be a way…I know there is…I saw that spell in here just last week!" Arthur continued flipping irritably through his spell book. "It's got to be in here!" He was on the verge of throwing the grimoire across the room when he saw it.
"There you are, sneaky little…" Arthur trailed off as his eyes roved the page. "…a clear night…waxing half-moon…yes, this is the spell I thought it was…I do need a pentagram…my family's perfect for this incantation…"
,,
"I hate school. Remind me again why I want to go to college?" Matthew groaned, flopping onto his couch and tossing his backpack to the side.
"Because you want to be a…I don't know, you never told me what you're majoring in." Gilbert scooted a little bit, to make more room for Matthew.
"Archeology, with a minor in…something. Do you think it's bad that I can't remember the name of my minor?" Matthew rolled his head along the back of the couch to look at Gilbert.
"Not really. I completed my minor, and I can't remember what it was." Gilbert gave Matthew a smirk, made lopsided by the angle at which they saw each other.
"That makes me feel like less of a fraud." Matthew sat up slowly. "I should do my homework." He retrieved his discarded backpack to dig his books out of it. "Let's see, I've got…actually, except for that paper that isn't due for another week, I don't have any homework. Well, I should probably study, but that doesn't count."
,,
"I wonder why Al didn't ask to read your palm." Matthew continued stirring the stew, as if he hadn't just said something confusing.
"What?" Gilbert looked up from the carrots he was cutting.
"Al. He can read palms, so it's strange that he didn't want to read yours." With a testing sniff of the broth, Matthew reached into the cupboard for more seasonings, what he wasn't yet sure.
"Uh, okay." Gilbert returned his attention to the carrots. "Is he any good at it?"
"Yeah. Everyone in my family, on Dad's side, has at least one thing they specialize in. I guess it fits that someone as nosy as Al can read a person's past, present and future just by looking at their hand."
"Huh. That does kind of fit. What about everyone else?" The only one Gilbert really cared about was Matthew, but he didn't want to out-right ask.
"Well, Dad's is casting circles, Aunt Kayleigh can control the weather, Uncle Walter's protection spells are basically unbreakable, Grandpa can speak to some animals, and my cousin Justin is the only person I've ever met who can cast a successful mind-reading charm."
"Mind reading…? I'm glad he didn't come visit you. Where does he live?" Gilbert scraped the carrots into the pot.
"Romania. He gives tours of all those old castles in the mountains. I wonder if he would have been able to see you." Matthew stirred the vegetables into the savory-smelling broth.
"I dunno. What's your 'specialty'?" Gilbert had been reluctant to be so direct, but his curiosity was getting the better of him.
"Oh. Uh, well, it's, uh, s-summoning." Matthew ducked his head so that his bangs hid his face from view.
"Summoning? Summoning what? And what're you acting so embarrassed for? I think it's pretty awesome." Gilbert elbowed Matthew gently.
"I-I can summon just about anything with the right set-up. Demons, nymphs, Spirit Animals, people even, if it's someone I know well. But anyway! I'm not acting embarrassed! It's just that, summoning is…really rare, for an innate talent. I-it used to be considered an ill omen. My grandmother was really superstitious, a-and she didn't expect me to live past eighteen. I-I did, obviously, but she died the day before my birthday. And Uncle André, on Maman's side, gave me a family heirloom when I turned fifteen. He was killed in a car accident three days later. Th-the list just goes on."
"Past eighteen? You barely look seventeen! How old are you?" Gilbert deliberately tried to change the surprisingly depressing subject.
"I'm twenty-two, thank you very much. How old are you?" Matthew blurted the question before he could think it through.
Gilbert stared at him for a moment. "I was twenty-four when I died. I don't think I've aged since then. I'm not even sure how long it's been, actually."
"Oh. I wasn't thinking. I'm so—"
"If I hear you apologize for something that isn't your fault one more time, I swear I'll never speak to you again."
Matthew winced. "I—okay. Okay."
Gilbert sidled closer to Matthew, liberating the wooden spoon from his grasp and gesturing towards the stew. "It'll scorch if we don't stir it." He pointed out, doing just that.
"R-right." Matthew could feel Gilbert's chest pressing against his back, the soft brush of his hair against his cheek. It was making him vaguely dizzy and he wasn't sure why.
Gilbert was paying more attention to the heat emanating from Matthew's face than he was the stew. I wonder what he'd do if I… Never one to leave theories untested, Gilbert unabashedly placed his hand on Matthew's hip.
Matthew jumped, and jerked away. "H-haven't you ever heard of p-personal space?" He demanded, face redder and voice higher than he would have liked.
"Nope."
,,
"You know, considering that this a basically a Frankenstein creation, this stew's pretty good." Gilbert slurped the last of the food in question.
"Mm-hm." Matthew agreed absently, savoring the unexpectedly pleasant flavor.
"So, it's your turn to do the dishes, right?" Gilbert wheedled.
"Not getting out of it that easily." Matthew answered, pushing his empty bowl into Gilbert's hands.
"Damn. Can't blame a guy for trying, though." Gilbert grinned. Matthew rolled his eyes.
"Don't forget to put the clean dishes away."
"Yeah, yeah."
Matthew watched Gilbert shuffle into the kitchen, smiling slightly and not sure why.
"Verdammt!" Gilbert yelped, feet catching over Kumajirou's hind paws. He dropped the plates as he slammed into the wall, and heard a hollow, dusty crack, accompanied by the sound of ceramic shattering. His foot sunk back when it should have hit wood, his toes bumping something with a dull edge. "The fuck happened?" He mumbled, stumbling forward and turning to look, while absently avoiding the broken crockery.
There was a hole in the wall. Not a particularly large one, but a hole, maybe half a foot to a side. The edges of it looked sanded, as if it was meant to come out. The piece of wood that had once covered it had broken in half, though Gilbert could see a small hollow that could have been used as a handle to open it with.
"Huh. Never knew that was there." Gilbert muttered as Matthew poked his head in to see what all the noise was about.
"What are you ta—what's that? Is that a hole in my wall? Gilbert." Matthew faced his kind-of roommate with a sharp expression.
"Yes and no." Gilbert rocked back on his heels, still crouching. "I think it was a like a secret hiding spot, see how that's been smoothed down? It's supposed to open, but when I kicked it, I broke the little door-thingy. And what's this?" He leaned forward, gingerly picking up a dust-covered object. "Hm. What do you think it is?" He held it up for Matthew's inspection.
"Ah, it looks like a miniature of a traditional Danish battle ax, except duller." Matthew slid it from Gilbert's grasp and turned it over in his hands.
Gilbert watched Matthew examine the oddly colored object. "Is it supposed to have that dark splotch on it?"
"What dar—oh, that." Matthew frowned at it, remembering similarly shaded artifacts at the site of an ancient battle. "It, it looks like…like a bloodstain…"
,,
Mathias groaned and flopped back onto the bottom bunk. Least it's a small town…if it were any bigger, I probably wouldn't have the whole cell to myself, he mused as he looked around the dreary room.
"Stupid Perez, had to get home so early." Mathias rolled onto his side, still whispering to himself. "All that staking out for nothing."
I wonder if Nikki'll bail me out…
..
There we go, chapter eight done! Okay, random thing I've been meaning to tack onto my author's note: All of you should go read The Less Than Epic Adventures of TJ and Amal. It. Is. AWESOME. That is all I have to say on the matter.
Verdammt-damn.
Anything else…? Oh yeah, when Mattie's talking about his Uncle Walter, he's also talking about Bhaltair. (Bhaltair=Gaelic for Walter) Also, his grandparents, cousin Justin, and uncle André aren't countries, they're just random OC's to fill out his family a little more. Half a foot is about fifteen centimeters.
Anyway, Mathy got arrested for B&E, in case you couldn't tell. It was kind of vague…not really sure how to fix that…I still want your opinions on the cameo thing! Equilibrium out!