Niki had grown up with a charm on them, they knew that. Gunnora had laid it with their parents blessing very early. It kept them from influencing the world too much by accident. That was cool honestly, knowing your SKILLS were the reason you were getting applause was best!
It faded over the years though, as it was supposed to, and that meant Niki had to be more involved in controlling themself. It was...always an interesting thing before shows or even improv classes to decide how much or little of that warm, flowing ability they let shine shine through in a performance. Likewise Bantii didn't outright play people's souls like instruments, they were both very restrained! Honest!
But, well, they did like splurging on dates.
Most dates started with an early afternoon at the park. Whatever they made busking at the park was their budget for that evening out! And sure they had a curfew (home by midnight or a very good reason why), they had done any number of things by scooping up a hat full of cash after a performance on the sidewalk and gleefully debating resturants or tours and the like.
Today was no different. Today Niki wore swishy sillks and Bantii plucked an enchanting tune from an instrument that probably didn't exist on earth and...regulars say them. They had a following, how not? If they showed up in the park they'd see repeat faces most days honestly. Since they performed for joy and sharing that was all well and good!
Today the hat was heavy and some higher denomination bills were showing as Niki scopped it up, turning to show it off before there was stinging at their neck. They brushed it off in annoyance but by the time they had headed toward the public restrooms Niki was feeling woozy and stumbling, which was when a regular stepped out of a shadowed area to press a knife against their throat. "Stay calm boy, inject yourself or the dancer drops," a rough voice commanded.
Bantii froze, barely managing to catch the tossed syringe as he was far too focused on the slight drop of blood forming on Niki's throat. "Okay, okay..." he soothed, swallowing as he stuck the needle in his leg. "Don't separate us...please..."
The man laughed, "no, you're too pretty a pair. Someone wants a songbird and a dancer set, you're lucky, top dollar." That meant careful treatment. Nice sleepy drugs, which Niki got another shot of after Bantii was folding to the ground, and padded cuffs when Niki blinked awake in the back of the van. A slow scan showed several men, darkness through the front windshield, and an awful taste in the back of their mouth. Ew.
Bantii was out cold though, heavy and hot against their silk wrapped shoulder, that meant it was up to them to keep them safe for now. They eased out from under Bantii, movement was necessary, even though their hands were cuffed behind them and ankles tied...they had been charmed since young.
They weren't young now.
Niki hissed softly to draw attention, then started moving, pulling on actual Power, deliberately, for the first time. Look. Watch.
SEE ME.
A writhing, slow, snakelike undulation bound as they were, but snakes, oh snakes hypnotized their prey. And these weren't people in the van, no, these were valid targets. Growing up in the Circus had left a mark after all. The van bumped to a slow stop somewhere, who cared where? And seven sets of eyes turned to watch...and couldn't look away.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
An hour, with their joints starting to scream and stamina flagging, Bantii stirred and woke with a jerk. Enemy territory, reeking of the Left Hand, he sat up and licked dry lips as he looked at the group then reached up to pull Niki against his chest, cuffed hands lifting to cover the ear not buried against his rib cage. This wasn't for Niki.
No, this song was never for Niki.
The men were freed, briefly, when Niki stopped moving but then Bantii opened his mouth and sang. Not rage,not anger, no, he sang Sorrow. Bitter, unending loss and the grief of parents who lost their families, children who suffered under invaders. The death of crops in the field and starvation looming for a whole people. Dripping, poisonous Grief. He didn't falter in the least when the first man sobbed and turned his gun on himself. The staccato reverberations just made the song more poignant.
Sharper.
None were spared.
Niki lifted their head when Bantii relaxed, and then reached to fish through pockets for cuff keys and a phone. "Call..."
"My parents?" Bantii drawled, coughing, throat still dry but...
"No, gods no. Not mine either dad will never, ever forgive himself. Call Uncle Asher? He'll know how to say things to Dad..." Niki hoped anyway. "And what to do with...this." Van full of bodies, bullet holes, and blood...
Bantii nodded, dialing that number by heart, "this date sucks, sorry."
Niki laughed at that, a sharp, high sound, "no, I like dangerous us too I promise," they admitted, kissing his cheek.
Oh that was a bad idea
It faded over the years though, as it was supposed to, and that meant Niki had to be more involved in controlling themself. It was...always an interesting thing before shows or even improv classes to decide how much or little of that warm, flowing ability they let shine shine through in a performance. Likewise Bantii didn't outright play people's souls like instruments, they were both very restrained! Honest!
But, well, they did like splurging on dates.
Most dates started with an early afternoon at the park. Whatever they made busking at the park was their budget for that evening out! And sure they had a curfew (home by midnight or a very good reason why), they had done any number of things by scooping up a hat full of cash after a performance on the sidewalk and gleefully debating resturants or tours and the like.
Today was no different. Today Niki wore swishy sillks and Bantii plucked an enchanting tune from an instrument that probably didn't exist on earth and...regulars say them. They had a following, how not? If they showed up in the park they'd see repeat faces most days honestly. Since they performed for joy and sharing that was all well and good!
Today the hat was heavy and some higher denomination bills were showing as Niki scopped it up, turning to show it off before there was stinging at their neck. They brushed it off in annoyance but by the time they had headed toward the public restrooms Niki was feeling woozy and stumbling, which was when a regular stepped out of a shadowed area to press a knife against their throat. "Stay calm boy, inject yourself or the dancer drops," a rough voice commanded.
Bantii froze, barely managing to catch the tossed syringe as he was far too focused on the slight drop of blood forming on Niki's throat. "Okay, okay..." he soothed, swallowing as he stuck the needle in his leg. "Don't separate us...please..."
The man laughed, "no, you're too pretty a pair. Someone wants a songbird and a dancer set, you're lucky, top dollar." That meant careful treatment. Nice sleepy drugs, which Niki got another shot of after Bantii was folding to the ground, and padded cuffs when Niki blinked awake in the back of the van. A slow scan showed several men, darkness through the front windshield, and an awful taste in the back of their mouth. Ew.
Bantii was out cold though, heavy and hot against their silk wrapped shoulder, that meant it was up to them to keep them safe for now. They eased out from under Bantii, movement was necessary, even though their hands were cuffed behind them and ankles tied...they had been charmed since young.
They weren't young now.
Niki hissed softly to draw attention, then started moving, pulling on actual Power, deliberately, for the first time. Look. Watch.
SEE ME.
A writhing, slow, snakelike undulation bound as they were, but snakes, oh snakes hypnotized their prey. And these weren't people in the van, no, these were valid targets. Growing up in the Circus had left a mark after all. The van bumped to a slow stop somewhere, who cared where? And seven sets of eyes turned to watch...and couldn't look away.
Ten minutes.
Twenty.
An hour, with their joints starting to scream and stamina flagging, Bantii stirred and woke with a jerk. Enemy territory, reeking of the Left Hand, he sat up and licked dry lips as he looked at the group then reached up to pull Niki against his chest, cuffed hands lifting to cover the ear not buried against his rib cage. This wasn't for Niki.
No, this song was never for Niki.
The men were freed, briefly, when Niki stopped moving but then Bantii opened his mouth and sang. Not rage,not anger, no, he sang Sorrow. Bitter, unending loss and the grief of parents who lost their families, children who suffered under invaders. The death of crops in the field and starvation looming for a whole people. Dripping, poisonous Grief. He didn't falter in the least when the first man sobbed and turned his gun on himself. The staccato reverberations just made the song more poignant.
Sharper.
None were spared.
Niki lifted their head when Bantii relaxed, and then reached to fish through pockets for cuff keys and a phone. "Call..."
"My parents?" Bantii drawled, coughing, throat still dry but...
"No, gods no. Not mine either dad will never, ever forgive himself. Call Uncle Asher? He'll know how to say things to Dad..." Niki hoped anyway. "And what to do with...this." Van full of bodies, bullet holes, and blood...
Bantii nodded, dialing that number by heart, "this date sucks, sorry."
Niki laughed at that, a sharp, high sound, "no, I like dangerous us too I promise," they admitted, kissing his cheek.