49th PAWW’s story

Second part of my fanfiction. Part 1

The other appointment was in the evening, and so he had some time left for Christmas errands. The man on the phone had been uncomfortable, clearly his first time doing any business with a medium and psychic, but Dorian was used to it and the stigmatisation related to his work. Not every claimed medium was a real one, making his profession almost a laughing one, and he admitted it made things very difficult at first when he started his business.

He tried to have a normal job when he first arrived in Canada, he really did. He worked in retail, using his charms to make good commissions, but after a while he had to block his powers, for it became overwhelming, hit by thousands of thoughts and emotions every day, and he wasn’t talking about the ghosts. It was too much in the end, and he refused to ignore abilities he was born with.

At that point, he was friends with one of his coworkers, Sera, who introduced him to her friends by inviting him at one of Josephine’s parties. He’d do sessions with them, bring his tarot cards sometimes if they hung out at someone’s place. He didn’t ask for money, but one day, after another of his friends thanked him for his predictions, it just clicked. Why not make it a profession?

He kept his job in retail and began doing those phone calls to help people. It quickly became enough for him to quit his horrendous job. Of course some people tried to use his line for phone sex, which made him laugh. He’d let them talk, knowing they were spending 3 dollars per minute.

He’d rented space in a building before finding his little downtown gem, and now here he was, able to maintain his budget with ease and keep the schedule he wanted.

He needed to make a few errands, including buying cat food for Snoufleur who’d hate him even more if he was to not feed her. He put on his thick coat with his wool scarf and leather gloves before stepping outside, glad for the insulation he had. It was freezing, the kind of temperature where his nostrils stuck together if he stayed outside for too long. At least the snow was pretty to look at, if it wasn’t turned to brown slush. He hurried to the subway, breathing through his scarf. His moustache was beginning to freeze when he reached the station.

He kept on listening to his music while shopping, tuning the rest away. He hated buying Christmas gifts, he wasn’t even Christian, but he liked his friends and if giving them gifts meant making them happy only for a little while, he could indulge them. He guessed he’d become one of those cheesy people now, curse the December spirit. Maybe Christmas didn’t mean buying from the stores, after all. He even bought treats for his cat before making his way back home.

He was in the metro when he had a bad feeling twisting his guts, and it wasn’t the barely visible ghosts always lurking in the undergrounds. He turned his music off without removing his headphones and moved a bit so he could discreetly watch the other passengers from his place. His eyes swiped the mostly empty cart, and there he was. The creeper, looking just like anyone else except for the darkness seeping from him. He had done this a dozen times before, choosing his victim – a young woman focused on her phone or too tired to notice him, and sitting beside them, to stare at them and molest them, even following them when they’d leave the subway. Dorian tasted bile in his mouth at this human’s thoughts, sinister and excited with the appeal of the chase.

He had chosen his victim, a pretty elf returning home after a long day at work. She was falling in and out of sleep, and that was exactly what the man wanted.

Dorian would have none of it. Before the creeper could sit beside the elf, he stepped in and slid in the seat, looking straight into his eyes. He’d dealt with worse scum, his dad included, a molester wouldn’t scare him.

The elf, Merrill, had woken up. She looked confused that he’d sit beside her with so many empty seats, so he smiled at her and opened his note application on his phone to quickly type a message warning her of the man. She looked over and frowned. She didn’t have his abilities, but could feel that he didn’t mean her well.

Which station are you stopping? He typed away.

Not this one, but the next one, she replied.

I’ll walk you home, if you don’t mind.

She turned to him and nodded, relief in her eyes. He caught an image of her being harassed by two men in a dark alley and hiding in a shop.

“Thank you,” she quietly said.

“Don’t mention it.”

He used the remaining time to focus on the man, noting his name and address so he could report him to the police. He knew Inspector Pentaghast, so even without proof, perhaps she could do something about him.

“How did you know?” Merrill asked once they were outside, freezing their butt off. The ghost of a dead elf boy was walking alongside her.

“Because I’m a medium and psychic, I can see into one’s mind among other things, and he had less than idyllic thoughts towards you.”

“Oh my…” She murmured, blinking in surprise. Her cheeks not covered by her Vallaslin were pink from the cold. She then smiled, relief easing the tension in her body, in her mind. She was glad someone else was like her, at least some bits.

She grabbed his gloved hand and he felt a wave of warmth spread around him, protecting him like a cocoon. “You’re not the only one with magic.”

He laughed, delighted. He’d met only too few like him before.

They were reaching her apartment now, the ghost still following them, and he had to ask. “Tell me, Merrill, have you lost someone recently?”

“I did. Is he…?”

“He is. I believe he wants to make sure you’re alright.”

She pressed her lips together and didn’t reply. Before they separated, he gave her his business card.

“If you ever need anything, daisy, or just want to chat.”

It was his turn to be surprised when she hugged him, their body barely touching though the thick layers of material they both were wearing, but he appreciated the gesture. He returned home with the feeling he did something good. Dealing with those scums was always the worse because even when he knew their intentions, he couldn’t tell anyone. It was maddening, but he took comfort in what he could stop.

Snow began to fall in big, fluffy flakes on the way, illuminated by the yellow street lights. The street was silent except for the wind hitting a part of his neck that his scarf wasn’t covering. He was quickly transforming into a walking snowman.

Someone was leaning against the brick wall beside his shop, smoking through the midst of all. He was waiting for him, undisturbed by the weather.

“Are you Branson?” Dorian asked once he was close enough, fetching his keys. “I’m sorry, I had some errands to make and had no idea this would take this long.”

“It’s no trouble, I’m early anyway,” the man said with a deep, accented voice. He finished his cigarette, throwing it away. Branson followed him inside as he opened the lights and put his bags away, shaking his hair to remove the snow that hadn’t melted already. Dorian led him to the couch, telling him to get comfortable.

“Anything you’d like to drink?”

“Tea, if you have some.” Dorian looked at Branson a moment longer than needed. Spiders crept from the corner of his mind, and Dorian couldn’t decipher why they were there.

He prepared him a hot chocolate and tea for himself, and he smiled down at him when he saw Branson’s surprised look.

“You shouldn’t hide your sweet tooth.”

“Thank you.” It was his favorite drink to snuggle with in a duvet during long, sleepless nights.

Dorian installed himself beside him on the couch, blowing on his tea before taking a sip. It was too hot, but his ears were barely getting warmer even with Merrill’s spell. He kept his hands wrapped around the warm mug, careful not to spill the content.

“Now, tell me why you’re here.”

The blond man shrugged, a bit uncomfortable. “A lot of things are happening right now in my life, I suppose I’d like some advice from you.”

“Mm. You seek answers, but for that, you need to be honest with me. Why are you using your brother’s name, Mister Rutherford?”

The PAWW Project