fight or flight / gabriel x declan.
Apr 29, 2018 5:03:04 GMT -5
Post by napoleon, d2m ₊⊹ 🐁 ɢʀɪғғɪɴ. on Apr 29, 2018 5:03:04 GMT -5
Gabriel
Pierce
Moon echoed upon a nearby brook, clock striking midnight— these demented junkies have no respect for their fellow drug-dealers. He had been leaned against a tree, waiting, toying with the vial of blue pills in hand.
The rendezvous was arranged for ten pm but the world was on the verge of a new day now, slowly bleeding out to a Thursday from a Wednesday.
Cladded from head to toe in sheer fabrics, Gabriel suppressed a shiver, locking his arms around torso as brown circles danced, searched and registered about his surroundings.
A silence crooned, only disturbed by a faint rustle of leaves. Flowers slept, greeneries hushed; it was an eerie setting. His 'customers' preferred this mute serenity over the town square, branded the outskirts of Ten a personal territory of theirs, where running away from law was effortless.
Then, from the woods ahead, came hurried footfall, which was discordant enough to uncurl his spine. He dragged an exhausted backbone away from the tree, peering towards the silhouette as it breathes out.
The other man’s features showed diffusely in silver, a mirage of some sort, but Gabriel could trace out the mosaic of scars littered along his neck. The man was dressed in rags, a shirt frayed at its edges. He looked skeletal, as if he’d just crawled out from six feet below.
“Mr. Oakley? I am Gabriel.” He greeted— brisk and introductory, as they favored. Fingers softly fished out the blue vial; everything had to be discreet in this homemade dynamite of a business.
Oakley did not respond; maybe he simply didn’t have the time to - as his initial action was tofeverishly seize the vial with a trembling fist. Gabriel coughed, managing to not let his relaxed facade shatter – with herculean effort. “Um, that’ll be a few pennies, sire.”
“Ya’ don’t call me’ sire or mister, boy!” Crooked teeth, sardine breath coated upon syllables— the man gnarled at him, crossing boundaries, and glowering until Gabriel recoiled from coercion and raised his hands as an admission of defeat, for the ensuing brawl that he can predict.
“Okay. Okay. Oakley. Oakley, it is then.” He lost tension at that, taking a few steps aback, giving Gabriel an opportunity to retort, as graciously as he could.
“Those pills will cost you a few pennies, Oakley. Our heads love money over anything else. Drugs and fantasies don’t come for free—and, you’re already shoving the whole vial down your throat.” The pills exploded to powders between yellowed fangs. This was the rage of an addict; he’d been a witness of it countless.
“Nah’. I don’t needa’
paye for these’.
Ain’t that your job? Boy.”
“No, it isn’t. I bring you
the drugs, you pay me—that’s it.”
“Nah’. You bring these
drugs, you pay for ‘em.”
“Okay, I think you’re being a little unfair here.” And, Gabriel refused to ebb away this time, cascading forward. “Do you know what they would do to you if—.”
He was cut off. Something resonated the moon above, something silvery inside the other’s scabbed fingers. It arced through air and his shoulder, gouging away a piece of fabric. “What the—” He hissed, and blinked at Oakley, at the madness reigning those grey-grim eyes, at the pocketknife held by a loose fist.
“Whacha’ gonna do to me, huh?”
“Hey, hey—we can negotiate, work something out,” But he’s metamorphosed to a lost cause, staring, not bothered to blink. A second affront was made as the man swung again, this time scratching a tree stem.
That fired the pistol of the race, blared out horns of warning, and exploded the fireworks of caution.
Gabriel turned on one foot with immediacy, charging towards the grooves behind him, swaying twigs and branches, running as if his life depended on it—and judging by the lunacy he glimpsed in the man’s eyes, it possibly did.
It was not a chase, more of a ruthless hunt.
They rushed past fields, meadows, moonshine. Gabriel’s heart, frightened by the unknowns, only fixated on upholding velocity. Self-defense was out of the picture momentarily. Foot crackled, crashing on cobblestones as he chased him. Now, they’d receded out of the woods, slowly reaching the heart of Ten, h u r r y i n g down rickety houses.
Breathless, he ran – until there was a collision in between sore bones and bodies, the world reeling before Gabriel. “Oh shit—.” Eyes that’d closed on instincts reopened to lay upon a minted face. “Help. Help me, please. Someone’s trying to kill me. I don’t—we were just talking and he suddenly grew mad.”
Oakley had caught up, a tower of shadows looming over their entangled bodies.
“Okay, instead of helping me, we should just run together cause' your muscles aren't going to save the both of us from that.”
