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fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
fantasticbeasts_kinkmeme) wrote2016-11-23 07:27 am
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Prompt Post #1
ROUND 1
FUCK IT WE'LL FIGURE OUT SPECIFICS LATER
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Fill: Spice and Smoke (5/?) a chapter which fails to mobster
(Anonymous) 2016-12-14 09:25 am (UTC)(link)Newt felt that same pungent, pressing, presence again as he stepped into the lift and politely asked the House Elf to take him to the appropriate floor. In the warped reflections of the lift’s cage he could see that something invisible was pressing on his clothes, creating creases and dents. It appeared to be hand shaped, but it was too big to be Dougal.
As he walked into the currency exchange office and whatever had been holding him let go, he realised that it was the invisible pressure – especially around his chest – which had been causing his flashbacks. He stood in the queuing area, waiting politely for the sole employee to finish what they were doing and open one of the desks. Abruptly the pungent pressing thing returned, and this time there was enough force behind it that Newt felt rather like he’d been hugged by a ghost. Whatever it was wasn’t powerful enough to crush his chest, flying through the air after the mother unicorn charged him and the smugglers – cultists? – in a vain attempt to save her baby, struggling to breathe beneath his crushed ribs and staring into the eyes of the Lady (was it a lady? A child grown too fast?). It only felt like his chest was being crushed.
Whatever it was released him when the teller finally offered to serve him.
The currency exchange happened quickly and Newt barely had time to cope with the idea that he was being stalked by something invisible (was it hungry? Should he leave out vegetables or meats? Would it be insulted if he tried to feed it? Was is mammalian? It had hands) before he was stepping back into the lift and, sure enough, the pungent mystery creature followed. It only pressed against him as he entered and left the lift, and the door of the Woolworth building, but that alone was nearly enough to make tears well in Newt’s eyes. He had not had panic attacks like this for years, but the repeated invisible pressure around his chest kept bringing him back to the night his Lady had congealed. The phoenix tears she’d wept had done their job, by the time a staff member had come into the forest to find the source of the smoke, Newt had been physically healed and Leta finished destroying the evidence. He’d been half convinced he’d dreamed the Lady, for she was not visible although she was in sight. “When is an Obscurus not an Obscurus?” “Riddles are for Ravenclaws…”
Shakily, Newt hailed a cab and gave directions to his hotel. If he took a bit long to close the cab door, the cabbie didn’t notice. He barely noticed the city streets going by – normally he would have been looking keenly, because the big city was just as much a habitat for creatures as anywhere natural, and that made it fascinating – and kept telling himself that he just needed to feed the creatures and calm down. He’d figure out what was following him as soon as he’d visited Gnarlack and until then he would feed it, keep his case close and his guard up. If it was someone from MACUSA rather than a creature, well, he would make them answer him before they disappeared – the Nundu could use some exercise.
He checked in to the Waldorf-Astoria with nor problems save his invisible tail – although he’d had a few upturned noses at his casual attire, New York high society had long since moved on to grander, more recently constructed hotels. Nevertheless, the hotel still clung to its former reputation for opulence, so Newt had no difficulty in ordering a large meal for two to be delivered to his suite.
Despite everything, Newt couldn’t help but be slightly awed by the suite his Lady had arranged for him – or, more correctly, which Lady Lacrimosa had made Leta arrange for him – and, at the same time, slightly terrified of what would happen when (there was no doubt in his mind that it was a when) the Niffler got loose in the suite. The little menace would probably try to steal one of the hotel’s chandeliers.
Finally, Newt lay his case gently down in an out of the way place and pulled out his Silver Lime wand (he had a maple spare hidden in a holster under his vest and a pine spare hidden in his boot, but whatever was tailing him did not need to know that). With flick of the writs a cloud of green smoke swept through the room – vanishing wherever nothing was hidden and clinging to that which was.
The figure of a tall, well-shouldered man stood where the pungency was strongest, with its hands raised in a gesture of peace which was universal amongst sentient bipeds.
Newt tilted his head to the side. It was good to know that there was only one tail, but it was slightly disappointing that it was clearly human instead of, say, a lost and unwashed giant demiguise in need of a good home.
The mysterious figure took a step forward.
Newt pulled out a revolver and cocked it.
The figure froze, with green smoke disappearing from the carpet where it had stood before, looked between Newt’s gun and his wand, and titled his head to the side.
“Revelio,” Newt muttered.
The clingy green smoke dissipated and the invisibility of the figure slowly peeled away. His fancy clothes were filthy from long use, his beard tangled, his face and frame gaunt, and his tear-filled eyes haunted. He pointed at his throat and flapped his mouth in a pointless attempt to speak.
Newt blinked at him for a moment, still trying to place where he knew the man from – it was hard to tell given how thin and dirty he was. He slowly lowered the revolver and cast a series of diagnostic spells.
The man, it seemed, had been cursed to be invisible, inaudible, and mostly intangible. Eating, drinking, and excreting had likely been almost – but not quite –impossible and when he wasn’t forcefully grabbing or squeezing someone they probably wouldn’t notice anything. Indeed, Newt had mainly noticed he was being followed due to the stench. Whoever had cursed the man had not made him unsmellable and he’d most likely not bathed for months.
After some carefully consideration, Newt disabled the curses.
The man made a choked noise and took a step forward, heedless of the revolver and wand pointing at him. “Newton,” he rasped, with wide, wild, eyes, “help me.”
Newt froze. He knew the voice. After a moment of awkward staring, he found his own voice. “Percival Graves?”
Re: Fill: Spice and Smoke (5/?) a chapter which fails to mobster
(Anonymous) 2016-12-14 01:14 pm (UTC)(link)*sets up camp*
I'm living here now.
Re: Fill: Spice and Smoke (5/?) a chapter which fails to mobster
Re: Fill: Spice and Smoke (5/?) a chapter which fails to mobster
(Anonymous) 2016-12-19 07:18 pm (UTC)(link)Re: Fill: Spice and Smoke (5/?) a chapter which fails to mobster
(Anonymous) 2017-01-15 12:42 pm (UTC)(link)