magic_fratboy

He wasn’t much for dressing up, but tonight was a different story. Tonight was worlds away from other nights like this one, and Tommy had seen more than a few. It wasn’t always planned, though, thought out and laid out with such care…

He didn’t like to think too much about what he was putting on…or how soon it might come off.

Blushing furiously, he grabbed his black leather vest off the bed and shrugged it on, checking himself out in the mirror as he buttoned it. He looked all right…okay, better than all right. He’d taken extra care with his clothes tonight, the leather vest and dark blue jeans an outfit that he knew complimented him. Hell, it ought to, Jelly had been there helping him shop for it with ten different wisecracks about how good his ass looked.

“I’m such a shmuck.” He sighed, raking a hand back through his hair. Already, it was growing out again, a little faster than he’d expected. Only a couple weeks out, and the close-cropped hair with the blunt-cut bangs falling in his eyes were hanging more naturally, curling at the edge of his collar in the back. Maybe it was all on him…everyone kept saying how good he looked with long hair…

Adding his handcuff necklace and a couple of his favorite rings, including the screaming skull Ben gave him last year for his birthday and a family crest his father had given him when he turned eighteen, Tommy finished the outfit with studs in each ear instead of his usual silver hoops. Another incidental from Jelly, she claimed that the pyramid-shaped diamond studs made his ears look sexy…whatever the hell that meant.

He trusted her opinion…and he was shooting for sexy tonight, right?

The only thing he didn’t bother with was shoes. He was at home, and he didn’t wear shoes unless he had to. So, barefoot, he padded out of his room and prayed he hadn’t overdone the threads, along with the lamb and dolmas he’d made for dinner as he headed back towards the kitchen, waiting for Ziyah to emerge from her room.

Tonight was a night he was hoping she’d never forget.

Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 365

He doesn’t realize the red he’s seeing is in his eyes until he passes a store window and sees himself.

He doesn’t recognize the image before him in dark, reflective glass…worn jeans, black tank top ripped at the collar, and too-short hair making him seem thinner than usual. The sun is lightening his nearly jet black hair with streaks of caramel, his cheeks shadowed by stubble he can’t be bothered to shave.

And his dark eyes are blazing red coals, reflecting the power he feels boiling in his blood.

Moving closer to the window, transfixed, he remembers the initial surge of fury that carried magic on its back, a blast of power like he’d never felt in all the weeks since he’d entered into the Fraternity. It’s more still than that, it’s a touch of the divine…it belongs to him alone and no one else, but in spite of its intoxicating nature he feels no jealousy for it.

He remembers the rush of satisfaction that came from laying hands on Farah, blessing her with hope in its truest form…

All at once the fire in his irises dies, leaving them dark again. Dark, hollow, empty. Useless.

He understands, then, what the legends and tales about diminishing elves and faeries that fade and die with a lack of faith are really all about as he sinks to his knees on the busy city street. Hope is leaving him, bleeding through his pores and into the world around him. He can feel it working, the smiles and the deep breaths of fresh air coming off that second wind sustaining the humans surrounding him.

It leaves him and goes back to them…humanity. The thing he’s never actually been a part of.

Hope has a source, though, and faces of its own, just like the Darkness. Even now, one bares its face to him as he shuts his eyes and sinks back against the cool, slick pane pressing into the newly bared nape of his neck. He shivers and wishes for his hair back.

He wishes for Zee back.

Shutting his eyes, Tommy holds on to the vision of that face, praying it will sustain him. Bring back the fury, the white-hot rage that was keeping him on his feet. White hot rage, red hot coals where eyes should be. See the world through a veil of fire…

…the fires of the first dawn…

Bloody irises face the world again as his eyes slide open.

He ignores the chaos of a blown out six block power grid as he gets to his feet and starts moving again.

He has work to do…he has to find Zee.

Muse: Tommy Karras
Fandom: Original Character
Words: 447