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:iconsparklinburgndy: More from SparklinBurgndy

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Submitted on
January 8
Mature Content


5 (who?)
Mature Content Filter is On
(Contains: strong language)
Paler than usual, Dick rushed into the room, looking for the band.  There was a casual party going on; groupies, other musicians, and assorted music industry douchebags crowded around Dethklok.  The robot eyed man grabbed a drink off of a tray and slammed it back.  He needed to tell someone!  Charles?  Charles was a good choice!  Charles would fix everything!  The producer got a few steps before stopping shortly.  

What exactly was he going to say?!  And what the hell was Charles going to do about it?  The CFO may have been a board certified badass, but this-!

A peal of laughter caught his attention.  Murderface had a group of women clustering around him, hanging on his every word.  That could only mean that it wasn’t Murderface, but the other guy; the ‘Civil War Officer’ who oozed charm and sophistication.  Knubbler trusted the bastard about as far as he could throw him.  Murderface was a dick most of the time, but he wasn’t a monster.  He’d punch a guy out in a heartbeat, but he’d stand and take abuse from a woman.  In Dick’s experience, most women had a pretty good idea of what men they actually had to be afraid of and what men they could give shit. And they weren’t scared of Murderface.  The Other Guy . . . . even as he was charming groupies, sometimes they’d stop and hold their breath.  Like they knew they were in danger.

Fuck that guy.

Looking around, the producer’s eyes fell on a familiar red haired figure.  Will’s girlfriend, Dixie Dunlap.  

Dixie Dunlap who knew about dancing shadows and things that made no sense. Dixie that made herself scarce when the Other Guy showed up. Dick headed to her side.

“I’m startin’ t’ think I was just a means t’ an end,” Dixie announced as soon as Dick arrived at her side.  She took a ladylike slug of pink champagne.

“Oh great, you’re drunk,” Knubbler whined.  

“This is mildly buzzed,” Dixie protested, taking another drink.  “You’ll know when I’m drunk.  Look at that asshole.”

She nodded at the perfectly groomed and dressed body of William Murderface.

“Oh, suddenly he’s got corporeal form and he don’t have time for me,” she sneered.  “I shoulda left him slaved to his portrait.”

“There’s a thing in the courtyard!”

As soon as the words were out of his mouth, Dick could have slapped himself.  What a stupid thing to say!  How could anybody take you seriously with a statement like that?  You couldn’t even narrow it down to animal, vegetable, or mineral?  Would it be ridiculous to say ‘a monster?’ ‘A big black thing with glowing eyes?’  The only reasonable response to that was a sneer and ‘What kind of a thing?’

“What kind of a thing?” Dixie asked.

Okay, it was much different without the sneer.  With the sneer it would have been ‘What are you, stupid?’  Without the sneer, it was ‘Can you describe the man that attacked you?’

“Come on, I’ll show you.” He grabbed her hand and dragged her out of the room.

The Guy in Murderface’s body watched them go.  Dick didn’t see him looking, but he could feel the hair standing up on the back of his neck.


“There!  There it is!  Is it a fucking demon or something?”  Dick hissed, crouching down behind the receptionist’s desk.  

Dixie looked to where he was pointing.  Her blue eyes widened and . . . . she smiled.  She was smiling?  The buxom redhead kicked off her shoes, hitched up her skirt and padded across the darkened lobby.  Dick followed her after a moment.  Smiling?  Smiling wasn’t expected.  But . . . for some strange reason he trusted Dixie.  He followed the redhead as she crept out into the courtyard, sneaking up on the huge black figure like a bird watcher trying to get closer to a particularly interesting wren.

Closer to, the thing didn’t look any better.  It must have been nine feet tall, with long, waving tendrils sprouting from the head.  The limbs were impossibly long and thin.  The knees hinged backwards like a . . . like a big chicken or something.  It’s eyes were glowing white pits.

“I never thought I’d see one a’ these here!” Dixie hissed.

“What is it?”

“It’s a Walker.”

“Are they dangerous?”

“Oh no.  They’re nature spirits.  They’re just . . . well, they just are.  Like inter-dimensional animals.  Not good, not bad; just there.  Still don’t know why it’s here.  You usually find ‘em in old buildings that Nature’s reclaimin’.  Baby doll, what are you doin’ here?”

The Walker . . . . looked lost.  It wandered back and forth in the courtyard, like it didn’t know where it was.  Like –

“Jermaine P – P whatever the fuck his last name is said they just imported the plants for the courtyard all the way from Hawaii,” Dick said, leaning over her shoulder.

“Hawaii?  Lots a’ old sugar plantations an’ shit there, fallin’ into ruin.  I didn’t know they could tag along like that.”

“I hope it finds a way out,” Dick said, surprising himself.

“Me too.”

The creature paced back and forth, then abruptly faded away.  Dick and Dixie relaxed slightly.

“I kind of hate the Other Guy,” Dick announced.

“I kind of hate him, too,” Dixie admitted.
Another Dick/Dixie bonding fic.  Not everything supernatural is scary.
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TheFelinianWithWings Featured By Owner Feb 8, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Very nice. Good to know that I am not the only one who is suspicious of Will.
SparklinBurgndy Featured By Owner Feb 12, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Yes, there's definitely more going on in there than meets the eye.
TheFelinianWithWings Featured By Owner Mar 8, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Cue spooky Foreshadowing music?
riverotter7 Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
The Other Guy.....I rather like him but what IS he doing outside of his portrait? I think I missed something!
SparklinBurgndy Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
Well, that little screw Dixie was carrying around in Pieces on the Board was actually from the nameplate of Ben's portrait.  That's how she was able to tote him around.  Unfortunately, once free, he . . . really wasn't the nicest guy around.
riverotter7 Featured By Owner Jan 15, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Shame on him. Having a past life in the Civil War, I shall have to speak to him on his disposition towards others in his life. Actually, I'm not kidding about the past life. I've been able to track down four of them: Ilsa Halsadtler, a wife of a Nazi official; Mary Margaret Montgomery the wife of Major Joseph Montgomery (CSA) living in South Carolina; a sailor without a name yet who died of drowning; and an infant that died within two years.

It's weird that sometimes I pick up their voices and one time I had Brahms on, and found I was waltzing with my husband. That was far too eerie.

SparklinBurgndy Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
riverotter7 Featured By Owner Jan 19, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
It is eerily weird but I chalk it up to the other voices I hear and screen out if necessary. there's the old Lady Mrs. Cook who was the mother of our first neighbor to the west. I can tell when she's walking through when I smell a perfume similar to my Grandma's; an older man's (with no name) who smokes a pipe with very good tobacco; and never mind the animals, other loose spirits and such coming through the house.
Like I've probably told you before the House is a safe zone for things. They may come in provided they bring no harm, do no harm while they're here, and leave nothing naughty behind them. That's when they get the proverbial slap on the behind by the screen door.
Considering the house is no more than a half-block from the lake means we're right smack on 3-4 power lines and one goes smack through my roses. Roses which were supposed to be 3-5 feet tall are growing 5-7 feet tall and need to be trimmed this year.
Did you understand all of this?? Somedays I don't.
SparklinBurgndy Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2014  Hobbyist General Artist
You have a lot of activity!  I haven't noticed any at this new house except for a party going on that seemed to be located in the cemetery.
riverotter7 Featured By Owner Jan 21, 2014  Hobbyist Artisan Crafter
Now that's cool! A party in the cemetery is definitely something I'd try and sneak up on!
Just listen to your house. You've just moved in and a lot of your things are still being looked at by the Nisse, House Spirits, Sprites, whomever... but after the Grace-period, you'll start hearing them.
Did anyone leave an old broom at your house? Use it to sweep around the baseboards of each room and then the outside of the house; and then put it upright in your garden for a birdhouse or bird-feeder to hang off.
You'll know if you're on a power-line or not and sometimes they "bend" a little for people who need them. They don't like being bent, but they will bend. Bend one and get a Karmic slap, but you already know that. I hope you find the owner of your house or some one.
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