londoncallingrpg

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OTA

It had been a strange week. It was his season, and so it should have been full of joy- But this year it was different. The winds that sang his name were too cold, too sharp. The trees seemed dead rather than naked, and the chill that usually lit up his magic was heavy and without spark. Everything was slightly wrong, and the longer it lingered, the more uneasy the pixie became.

An awakening was approaching, something powerful and dark. Winter could feel it in his bones, tainting the world around him- Something was approaching this realm, though the pixie couldn't sense who or what. He was sensitive to the change though, maybe more sensitive than most, and it was slowly altering him, as things so often could.

Walking down the high street he kept one eye on his reflection in the shop windows, noting the way his wings showed occasionally, even though they were hidden- And freezing in place when he saw a familiar figure behind him.

Aspid's eyes were dark, and though Winter knew he wasn't in this world with him, he still tensed as the reflection of the dead wizard rested his hand on his shoulder, and leaned in to speak in his ear. The words he whispered were like a low hum, but Winter heard each one, his shoulders shaking as he closed his eyes.

"You're lying," the pixie said quietly. "You're a liar!" he shouted, turning his head and opening his eyes- Only to find the shadow of Aspid gone, and a small group of people staring at him as though he'd lost his mind.

Looking back in the shop window, Winter saw himself alone again- But changed. Taller still than his new height, with a sunken gaze and painfully thin body. He looked warped and dark, and though he wanted to believe it was an illusion, he couldn't help but fear it was a vision of the future Aspid's warning had painted for him.

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"With whiskers and rubbing," Winter replied, as though that ought to be obvious.

That got a choked little laugh out of her. "Well, we don't have whiskers. I don't think everyone would be open to rubbing. Especially from strangers."

"I think the world would be a much happier place if we were more open to rubbing one another," Winter said seriously- So seriously, in fact, that it was hard to believe he didn't know exactly what it sounded like he was saying.

Sunny laughed at that, but she felt her face getting rather warm and she knew she was blushing.

Winter gasped, then pointed.

"Rubbing!" he gasped, part accusation, part gleeful realisation. "You want to be a cat all over someone! Is it Phouka? No, you have been more than cats with Phouka. You were rabbits. ...Who then? Finlay? No, he's small and likes erections mostly. Faizel? Yes! You want to be a cat with Faizel. ...He is such an owl though. You can't rub an owl. Can you?"

The laugh cut off with a little choked sound, and Sunny stared at Winter with huge hazel eyes. ... Then she went very red and sharply looked away.

Winter wasn't sure what he had done, but he was about ninety percent certain it was wrong. That last ten percent of him thought maybe Sunny had just remembered how Bambi's mother had died in that tragic film he'd once started to watch, but- No, probably more to do with what he'd just said.

"...It's okay to be a cat," he said after a moment. "Or a rabbit. I am those things too sometimes."

"Not with an owl," Sunny mumbled.

"Owls eat rabbits," Winter said, "Cats too sometimes."

He tilted his head then, watching Sunny for a moment, then leaning in and headbutting her shoulder.

"We should have carrot cake," he decided, catching her hand and tugging her towards the bakery.

"Cake is starting to sound like a really good idea..." Sunny agreed quietly. She shook her head. This was not the thing to get distracted by right now. Especially not with Winter.

Winter headed into the cafe, but seemed to pause at the door, looking at his reflection in the case that held the confections. ...It still looked wrong.

Sunny had been about to ask him what was wrong, but her eyes caught the faint reflection in the glass before she had a chance to make a sound. Her own reflection still looked like her, but Winter looked like something... twisted. "Oh," she whispered.

"You see it?" Winter whispered. "You see it too? Shadows of a future that could be..."

"I see it," Sunny whispered back. "It's not a certainty, though. It never is."

"It's still frightening me," Winter confessed, forcing himself to look away.

"Yeah," Sunny agreed with a murmur. "Cake," she said firmly. "Then we can talk about what to do."

Winter nodded, forcing himself to look away from the strange vision before heading to the counter and ordering them each a slice of cake and a milky coffee.

Sunny rubbed a hand on Winter's arm in reassurance. She knew more than she wanted to about fearing possible futures and had for a long time. Longer than she'd been a witch at all.

Winter leaned into the touch, sighing quietly and letting himself relax.

"I'm afraid," he said, watching as the man behind the counter made their drinks. "I don't want to be a dark and wicked thing."

"Why would you be one?" Sunny asked. She'd read too much Greek tragedy to feel right about flatly refusing the future as presented, even if it was rarely as straightforward and unavoidable as what happened in those stories. So. Why might it happen?

"I have been warped. I have been altered already by so many things. It wouldn't take much to warp and change me more," Winter said softly.

"Everyone changes," Sunny pointed out gently. "How is what happens to you different from what happens to me?"

Winter was silent until they had their coffee and cake, not speaking until they were seated away from the crowd.

"It's hard to explain. It's just different. I feel my magic change, my energy. ...Do you remember after Finlay left Will? I was so angry then, so- Wrong. A dark pixie. ...Pixies should never be dark. It does things to us. Bad things."

Sunny crossed her legs under the table, dangling her purse from her ankle. "I remember that, yes," she said as neutrally as possible. If she thought too much about it, it would just start her blood at a slow boil.

"There's a quote from Peter Pan. 'Fairies have to be one thing or the other, because being so small they unfortunately have room for one feeling only at a time.' I doubt the author ever encountered anything magical in his life, but is it like that?"

"You know Peter Pan?" Winter asked seriously. "You must take me to him. I've heard so many tales. He'll know what to do! He knows how to remain young and unchanged. ...Though he's not terribly nice to pixies, from what other pixies have told me. I might have to lie and tell him I'm a lost boy. ...Not that he's very nice to them either."

The pixie paused then, cocking his head to one side as his brow creased.

"Is Peter Pan a bit of a cock?"

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