Chapter 3 : Run, You Clever Boy...
Chapter 3 : Run, you clever boy...
Leon wasn't sleeping. He couldn't. All that happened this day was running wild inside his mind and he couldn't help but to feel guilty for having to make his son move out so quickly again. They have been living there for a few months now, it was the longest they've been staying somewhere and he thought he had been careful enough not to get spotted by anyone in London, but he hadn't. And this only simple thing every parent should be able to provide their child –a safe place to live, somewhere to establish– was a mess for him to give to a boy who asked for nothing, and certainly not for a life as a runaway at such a young age. And if it wasn't enough, Leon was also living with the fact that his children would grow up separated, and without their mother. Rachel's face imposed itself to his mind and he sighed again, defeated, while folding a few clothes inside a big bag.
Hershel was sleeping, Leon wanted to make sure he was taking some rest before beginning to pack their stuff, to be ready to leave for tomorrow. The poor boy was still shaken by the way he came back home panicking, and alaso on a motorbike with a total stranger who seemed to know about Targent too. Now that he was thinking about it, this was quite surprising considering that the Scottish man was everything but looking like an archaeologist, or a linguist, or an historian. In fact, he looked rather more like a grave-digger himself, or a treasor hunter. Why would he ever be involved with an organisation like this ? He seemed to be a free spirit, not the kind to be bound to some terrorist company.
Another sigh. God, the day had been tough enough, and the night was barely beginning yet. He wouldn't sleep much, that was certain, even more when he knew he would only have nightmares if he miraculously could grab some minutes of sleep. No, truly, he would be better awake tonight.
The floor creaked. Leon sighed and didn't want to turn so soon. Hershel was having a nightmare again probably, or else he was awake again, but the adult one needed a few seconds to compose himself an expression that wasn't screaming guilt.
–Go back to sleep dear, I'll finish the packing don't worry.
But no one answered back. In fact, the only answer he got was something cold being put between his shoulders, and for having known this sensation for weeks, he suddenly tensed and stopped his movements, paler than a ghost and his throat turning as dried up as the Mojave desert.
–You're up late, Bronev, said a mocking voice behind Leon's back. I'm not surprised though, you always used to work late at night.
No answer from the archaeologist who gritted his teeth while clenching his fists and trembling a bit. His eyes were staring at the wall in front of him with pure terror. Even his voice was trembling a bit because he was already anticipating the following part.
–H-How did... how did you... ?
–Find you ? interrupted the voice of the agent holding him at gunpoint. Quite easy, really. And we know you're quite a competent man when it comes to disappear, so we've made it quick. You have not been very discrete today, have you ? I guess there's still people ready to help a traitor like you.
There was a little moment of silence and then the man came closer to Leon's ear to whisper.
–Also... The Condor sends his regards to you and your son.
Bronev quickly turned around but his eyes were betraying two emotions. First, the anger, and then the horror. He was behaving like a trapped animal, ready to bite to get out of this alive, but also knowing he could possibly die so ready to do anything in a last attempt to live. That was the kind of feelings mixing up in his chest while he was facing the smug agent in blueshish-grey uniform, with his hat and sunglasses, holding the gun. Two other agents were by his side, silent and waiting for an order. That was all they were going to do anyway.
–Don't you dare involve my son into this, he's just a child !
–We'll need that brat to keep you at the Nest, since your wife can't be taking that role anymore.
–You bloody-
But before he could finish his sentence, he heard a scream not so far, in the corridor in fact, and he could have recognised that voice anywhere and anytime. His blood ran cold and he was about to rush out of the room, regardless of the gun, when the other two agents grabbed him firmly enough to stop him from doing so.
–Hershel !
———
Back in his room, the boy had been awake for a few minutes now, really worried and sad to have to leave so soon such a wonderful house and a wonderful town, and wonderful people. And he knew his dad was packing in his room, at the other end of the corridor, because he was doing this every time they had to move on. That was a thing he was doing to ease a bit the guilt and the sadness of the moment but it was still hurting a lot. Deep down, Hershel knew he shouldn't hold a grudge against his father, who was doing absolutely everything he could to keep them safe, but deep down he was conflicted and his little child's heart and mind couldn't bear all this everytime.
At some point, staying alone in this room was too hard to bear too, so he stood up, get out of bed, took his plushy in his arms and was about to join his father to help folding the clothes when someone grabbed him by the waist and dragged him off the floor. He was about to scream, surprised and sure it wasn't his dad, but that somebody stopped him from doing so with a firm hand on his mouth. He was struggling like crazy but a little boy against an adult was not strong enough.
His eyes were beginning to get teary while he was clearly feeling defenseless, and he thought he would be taken away by some shadow but all of the sudden rhe grip of the stranger loosened and he fell on the floor with a grunt. He looked up quickly and saw a vague silhouette falling too, probably unconscious. But what scared him most was the other silhouette behind the first one, black and massive, holding something in his hands. Without thinking about it more than that, the boy screamed.
–Hershel !
He heard his father call for him and was about to call back but the other person kneeled and stopped him from screaming again.
–Shh... ! Be quiet, balach beag...!
As soon as he recognised the words and accent, Hershel opened wide eyes and stopped, trying to distinguish the Scottish man's face thanks to the pale light of the moon piercing through the window. The man in the leather jacket winked a bit and smiled before whispering.
–Now, be quiet... there's a few more people in this house that aren't supposed to be here... A've knocked out three of 'em a'ready... but there's still three of 'em with yer dad...
Ray was seeing through the night as if it was as clear as the day, so he could clearly see Desmond's teary eyes. He wiped his tears and gave him a bag before making sure no one was coming that way.
–OK... now pack yer things... what's necessary, nothin' else. A'll go get yer father, until now, ye hide behind the sofa, in the livin'. OK boy ?
Too stunned to speak, the boy nodded vigorously and grabbed only the necessary things, like his plushy, his books, and a few clothes indeed.
Back in the corridor, Ray was slowly heading to the sassenach's room, as silent as a shadow, while spying on their conversation. The three agents remaining were all in the same room, as he thought, and one of them seemed to be the leader, holding the English archaeologist at gunpoint probably, that was their way to do after all.
–Once we're back at the Nest, you'll be able to focus on your work again. But trust me when I say you should begin to beg for the Condor's mercy.
Ray winced. That bloody Condor was still looking for archaeologists and historians, as it seemed, and it was everything but good news since he was a very stubborn bird. The sassenach didn't seem to be ready to give up on his freedom so easily.
–Well, tell him to go to hell and to say hi to his old cousin Satan.
–Careful, Bronev. Don't forget your son's life is at stake.
The Scottish man opened wide eyes. Bronev ? Like in "Leon Bronev" ? Oh, that explained a lot of things. Beginning with the reason why he was so encline to escape Targent's radars and surveillance for so long. But for now there was no time for questions, nor for a proper introduction. He sighed and took a deep breath before doing something.
He quickly switched off the lights in the room before bolting in and grabbing the leader's arm, the one holding the gun. By chance he knew that most agents were right handed, so he got it right even in a dark room. He brought the arm down and made him let go of the gun, while he was trying to defend himself. The two men holding Bronev were surprised to see nothing anymore in a matter of seconds and his instant of surprise was enough for the archaeologist to step on one's foot and give a punch in the stomach of the second with his elbow. They grip loosened and Leon took the arm of the first one, punched the second one right in the face and sent him to say hi to Morpheus quite quickly. The first one was trying to reply with a right hook but Bronev was quicker. He bent down and stood straight after the punch went over his head, grabbed the man by his jacket and punched him in the stomach before hitting his head against the wall. This one too went to say hi to the king of dreams. And as quickly, he switched on the lights.
During that time, Ray had taken the gun from the leader and was now the one holding him at gunpoint. But this one knew who he was and he looked at him with frightened eyes, since his sunglasses had fallen on the floor and the light was emphasising his fear.
–I knew someone was accompanying Bronev but I didn't know it was you...
–Thank God A swore ne'er to go back to that life aga'n, or else A would've ended yer pathetic life right now.
But instead of shooting, he took the gun by the canon and hit him with the cross to make him fall unconscious again. Before Brinev could understand anything, Ray was already grabbing the bag with the clothes in it, took everything that seemed to be researches and put it in the bag too, before running down the stairs, followed by a very worried English archaeologist.
–Don't look at me like that, sassenach, we're in a hurry. Others will come, there's a train in the next town leavin' tomorrow mornin'. A know a place we'll be safe.
–We ?!
Ray didn't even bother to answer Bronev's interrogation since there was no time and he smiled when he saw Desmond being hidden behind the couch.
–Right, balach beag, ye've ever got on a motorbike ? Because A'll drive ye to have a nice trip in train.
Desmond was even more confused than before and he looked at his father who was completely losing it.
–Why ? Why helping us and coming with us ? I thank you for the... erm... rescue... but-
–We'll speak later, sassenach. For now let's get ye both to safety, OK ?
Leon knew thus was a big risk. Bigger than any risk he had already taken, but they didn't have a choice anyway. He patted his son's shoulder and nodded.
–Alright... Let's do this then.
With a common sign of the head, they rushed out of the house, all three, and went on the motorbike. When the men in the house woke up, no one else was there.
———
Sitting at his desk, the silhouette of a man was answering a phone call. It was very rare to have someone call him, and more rare was he answering it. But this time it was different. This was an important phone call.
–... I see...
A slight smile appeared on his lips but no one could see it. He hanged down the phone and chuckled a bit. This was absolutely perfect.
–Well well well... isn't it interesting...
He looked down at his desk. On it, there was a record, filled with notes, reports, and observations. He took a photo among them and stared at it for a few seconds.
–Run, you clever boy... and remember...
His smile on this instant would've frozen a corpse.
–Big Brother is watching you~
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More Posts from Mirza-majoris and Others
As a literature student, I assure you this is absolutely true ! It's mostly how writers guide their readers and the reading of a book.
Writing is NOT made of pure talent, it is mostly learning, how to compose with the language to create something that make sense and that can touch the person of the reader.
Personnaly, I think this is the best thing about writing, you can communicate something to someone with words ! That, that's why I love literature ♡
my writing fundamentally changed forever ten years ago when i realized you could use sentence structure to control people’s heart rates. is this still forbidden knowledge or does everyone know it now
Summerween costume !
Rania is a huge fan of the Hex Girls even though they are from cartoons. She knows the songs by heart and she loves the whole "eco goth" vibe. She also loves music in general : she sings, she can go from alto to soprano thanks to her large vocal range and she even plays clarinet but she hasn't touched one for years now. Her favorite genre is probably jazz and she has a soft spot for klezmer when it comes to instrumental music.
So for Summerween, and since Mabel was insisting for her to join the whole celebration, she decided to dress as Thorn from the band (she had a big crush on her when she was younger). Dipper suggested a Fortune Teller as a joke and Mabel thought she would've done a very good witch but she wasn't comfortable with that last idea.
Of course, she didn't expect a big legendary Summerween Trickster to try to eat the kids !
Okay so I am definitly lost in a world full of nonsense XD
Oooups, I dit it again X'3 I wanted to draw more than just a panel but too tired for it X'3
Also, I tried a new way to "shade" even though it looks terrible X3 Would I have had more time, skills and motivation, I'd probably draw the whole movie since I love it so so much X3 The Azran returns again XD
Weeeeeell I fell again for a very good videogame ! Undertale has been part of a good portion of my teenage / young adult years and it has come back to me in the past few weeks so I play it again and I appreciate it even more, with sometimes calm ambiance and relaxing musics.
To cope with stress and finals, to feel a bit more at peace, I offer you a Riverperson and a nice little trip on their boat.
*The Riverperson is humming a tune, you can hear some rythm but no distinguishable lyrics. It helps you relax and enjoy the trip while the Echo Flowers are repeating the same tune over and over again.
*The boat slightly slipping on the bright water of Waterfall fills you with determination.
Listening to the music ?
○[YES] [NO]
Alright so it is my turn X3 I don't really have a file of wip for drawings, because I work mostly on my phone and I can't do that BUT ! I have way too much things regarding writing X3 in French sooo sorry but not translated ><
OK, so, we've got :
La Mer ( "The Sea", in French )
Castigat ridendo mores ( a common latin formula for theatre "correct moral by laughing" )
Lady Macbeth ( about ghosts basically X3)
Captain Blood ( about translation )
Fic Layton ( two or three things in there X3 )
Translation Wandering Castle
Thieves and gentlemen ( this thing is in english though X3 )
Les Fleurs du mal ( "The Flowers of evil" (?), Charles Baudelaire, French poet )
Les Sept miroirs des anges ( "The Seven mirrors of angels" )
And I think this is all X3 I dunno who to tag so let's invite everyone who wants to do so X3 Hope I didn't deceive too much people ><
WIP Tag Game
no one actually tagged us this time, but since we have about a million WIPs atm i wanted to resurrect this thing :-)
Rules: post the names of all the files in your WIP folder, regardless of how non-descriptive or ridiculous. Let people send you an ask with the title that most intrigues them and then post a little snippet of it or tell them something about it! and then tag as many people as you have WIPs.
Falcon 3
Fantasy Romcom Buddy Trip (A Salt-Stained Dawn)
Four Crooked Branches
What the House Remembers
Codebreakers
The Dark-Eyed Dandy
Thread the Needle
The Diviner’s Hand
Knowledge Hunters Rewrite
The Ring and the Ribbon
Reality Show Divorcees (Syndicated Vows?)
Coffee Alchemist
Seventh Summer
Kirkie Taylor and the Graveyard Shift
battle of the bands type story
i do NOT know that many people however i WILL be tagging @professor-glasses, @solstice110, @verdantclouds, @bossdatomi, @mortallychaotickingdom, @cain-shuga, @simminglytimeladies, @felix-krain, @exaggeratedmisconduct, @freedomending, and 5 more volunteers from the audience
A little something related to @umboloae GF AU, because I love their Human Bill design so much >~< cringe incoming sorry not sorry ahah was supposed to post this two/three weeks ago ><
Also, I don't know if Ford would say that because he thinks it's really not fitting, or just to annoy his ex XD
Bill definitely needs Mabel's help on this one !
⚠️ Warning ⚠️ : Blood on the second drawing
Here is the evolution of an OC I made while doing a rp with a friend about PL and TARGENT. Her name's Magpie, she loves this kind of birds and is a very talented pickpocket.
I redesigned her because I have her evolution in mind in a way, I dunno if I will let her exist in the PL universe of make her independantly of it. Changing the style of the drawing and going into something darker. Dunno if it's relevant, nor interesting but here it is...
I love dark things and drama sooooo yup, maybe draw more of this later, dunno
Chapter 4 : Train trip
The compartment of the wagon was oddly silent. Well, in fact, neither Ray, nor Leon nor Hershel had anything to say. Or rather they wanted to say a lot of things but they didn't dare to, mostly because they didn't know where to begin.
Hershel was still wondering how Ray had managed to got them a compartment without any reservation, but deep down he already had the beginning of an answer, and it was not all about being legal. For now, and because he hadn't slept very well during the previous night, he was sleeping on the bench seat, with his father's own coat to keep him warm and cosy, after having watched the landscape running outside for quite some time.
Leon was staring at the Scottish man, sitting next to his son and making sure his plushy wasn't going to fall from his son's embrace. His eyes were more tired than before and he had crossed his arms, not ready to let any emotion pierce again through his face. He was thankful indeed, because without him they would be taken to the Nest already, but he was also very distant and worried, because it wasn't common to know Targent, and less common was Ray's abilities. Leon had been trapped in this bloody tower for weeks with his wife and, even if he hated to admit it, Targent's soldiers were good. Very good. And from what he had understood when they quickly got a few explanations while waiting for the train, Ray put four of them to sleep with no apparent difficulties, which was... almost impossible. And the man who was aiming at him seemed to know him well, and to be afraid of him too.
–Are ye goin' to stare at me like this for long, sassenach ?
Leon jolted. Ray didn't even looked at him, he was still looking at the fields, behind the window, and he knew perfectly well what Bronev was thinking in this instant. And in fact, the English archaeologist sighed and looked away.
–Stop calling me that.
Ray smiled a bit.
–Calling ye what ?
–That thing, "sasnar". What does it even mean ?
The man in the leather jacket chuckled and rolled his eyes before looking at the English man. His eyes were tired indeed but he refused to sleep, to have an eye on his son and to have an eye on him too.
–"Sassenach", it means "stranger". Or "English". To Scots, it's the same. Also, A think this name suits ye well since A'm sure ye're English at least. "Nikolaï" huh ?
Leon's face grew more serious and his eyes were almost as cold as a statue in the middle of a winter storm. This was a very sensitive topic indeed but they had to talk about it, or else their alliance was meant to end quickly. Judging by the man's willingness to protect Hershel, and how he looked at him, he had principles and a moral code, and he seemed reliable regarding Targent and his hatred toward this terrorist organisation.
–You heard him, huh...
–Leon Bronev, the famous Azran expert. Ye disappeared from a li'le village near Stansbury with yer wife, 2 years ago. And ye are one of the very few people to have escaped Targent.
Ray paused and stared at Leon who was livid and pulling his son closer from his side, as to protect him from an invisible menace. The Scottish man sighed and looked back through the window.
–Sorey...
–To anyone else, I'm Nikolaï Sycamore and he's my son Desmond. As for you, I'm still concerned about my son's safety since tonight you were clearly out of these agents' league. "Ray", seriously ? That's merely a nickname.
He smiled a bit, bitter, and sighed. This situation was really awkward and making them both uncomfortable but they had to adress the issue because it was the key to build a mere sense of confidence. However, the other man seemed to brush off the idea of talking about his name and focused back on a more important topic.
–Ye're not bad either. Nice hook, by the way.
–Thanks but... you're avoiding the topic. Why are you helping us ? You could've let us go on our own and then go on your own as well.
That question wasn't surprising, and somehow Ray was waiting for it. But even if he was prepared to hear it, he had no answer which would be satisfying enough to give to the archaeologist. This was his sensitive topic, the one he wasn't comfortable with, because the answer was also very unsatisfying for him as well.
–I... made some very questionable choices in the past... and...
He paused for a few seconds and stared at Hershel, or rather Desmond, who was sleeping under the coat and close to his father, before looking away again. In his eyes, Leon was certain to have spotted some guilt.
–Let's just say that I seek redemption... for the people I hurt. And I hope I'll achieve it someday...
Another long and heavy silence. Leon observed the man sitting in front of him with curiosity and yet with the clear impression that he was trying to hide the elephant in the room. And it was working rather well indeed since he had no idea what it could be. But the voice and the eyes of that strange Scottish biker were everything but full of lies. Deep inside, the English archaeologist knew his newly found ally was truly trying to make amend for something that happened in his life.
Ray sighed again but his dark eyes stared at Leon for some time before he finally decided to keep going.
–The past, A don't care. Ye want to be called Nikolaï, A'll call ye Nikolaï, same for yer boy, A'll call him Desmond. But for now... we need to head to somewhere safe. And nowhere will be, unless we put as much distance as possible between us and them.
Leon sighed again and kept his son close while looking outside. The sky was slowly starting to be covered with grey clouds and the air seemed to get colder. Judging by the direction the train took, and by the fact that they needed to head far away from London, they were probably heading north.
To break a bit with the heavy topic, Leon focused back on a lighter matter.
–You're wrong though. I'm not entirely English.
Ray raised an eyebrow. Leon rolled his eyes a bit playfully.
–My father was from Saint Petersburg.
Both men looked at each other before chuckling a bit, to ease a bit that pression that had been concentrated for a few hours now. Ray couldn't believe it.
–Ye're English AND Russian, fer God's sake !
–Da ! Now hush, you'll wake my son up...!
But the more he was thinking about it and the more they both wanted to laugh because that sounded like something absolutely uninteresting and yet oddly funny in this particular context. Ray shook his head and kept going.
–Well, as fer me, A owe ye the truth... Me real name's Raymond and I hate it.
–Oh... it explains a few things.
–Is that so ?
–...In fact no, it's just so... so not Scottish-sounding. Sounds like a French waiter at the Ritz.
They both began to laugh again after a glare from the Scottish man. This sounded rather strange to Leon, to hear himself laugh, because it had been weeks since the last time he truly was able to release all that stress. However, they had to come back to focusing on serious matters.
–I see... But it will still be rather risky and probably hard since being a single father with a young son is rather tough these days.
–We could... be roomates ? Flatmates ? A dunno, what do ye call two people livin' together and both paying the rent ?
If there was any kind of idea that was supposed to be crossing Leon's mind right now, it was certainly not this one ! In fact, this sounded so uncommon and unpredictable that he lost an instant to stare, his mouth wide opened and his eyes round and more round even.
–I beg your pardon ?
Ray raised and eyebrow and his shoulders.
–What ? Can't we somehow make it work ? A'm broke, A can't afford to live in a house by meself. And ye can't take good care of yer boy without an ally. It doesn't sound so crazy to me.
Leon stared at the man, his face, his eyes, his leather jacket, his position on the bench -quite relaxed, occupying the space he had- and his attitude until now and suddenly he began to laugh a bit, and the more he was thinking of the man as a "normal man doing normal things in a normal house", he couldn't help but to laugh a bit louder. This was enough for Desmond to yawn a little and open one eye, then the other, and looking at both adults who seemed to have been discussing important matter during his little nap.
–Hmm ?... Dad, why are you laughing ?
–F-For nothing, ahaha ! No, truly, don't worry, don't worry my boy... ahaha !... it's just that, oh god, Ray here just-
–What ? Is it so insane ?!
Desmond looked at both the men with a confused frown, waiting for an answer to his interrogation, and also rather surprised to hear his father laughing. Raymond sighed and shook his head while explaining a bit more what they were talking about a few minutes ago.
–We were talking about livin' together.
–Wait-what ?!
The little high-pitched voice of the boy was enough to make Leo laugh again, even though Desmond was, after this moment of blunt surprise, was seriously pondering the idea. It was risky, for sure, but at least they were together in this awful situation and they could possibly make it work. His little mind was way too serious sometimes and it was now one of these times.
–Well, it all depends on where we are going to move in... also, I doubt I can still be doing homeschooling. I love you dad but... you always tell me it's better to find knowledge everywhere rather than taking it always from the same source.
His father stopped laughing, opened his mouth with the intention to say something, but in the end he just closed it and mumbled something before sighing.
–That's... true, but... you know we have to be discrete.
Raymond thought it was his time to intervene.
–Neh, don't worry sassenach, ye're not goin' to be spotted where we're headin' !
–Oh, that's true... Where is this train going ?
–To Dingwall. It's a li'le town near Iverness, north Scotland. Targent is never goin' to come here, they wont suspect ye're hidin' with me.
Leon looked at the weather. Yup, typical Scottish weather coming ahead.
–I should've guessed. It's raining, in Dingwall, I guess ?
Raymond stared at Leon for a good minte long anf took a deep breath, trying to stop his tongue from being bitchy, but he couldn't help it.
–Of course it's raining ! Where do ye think Scotland is ? The freaking Pyrenees ?
–Language !
The archaeologist snapped before rolling his eyes and sighed once again.
–Why Dingwall ?
–Because A know where to find a house fer us three.
–A house ? Whose house ?
That was surprisingly... quick. There's no way he had been able to look for a house so soon so here it was, the elephant in the room. At this one too, Ray seemed a bit awkward and he muttered something no one heard correctly. Leon frowned.
–I beg your pardon ?
–... me mom's...
He muttered while blushing and looking away. Desmond and Leon looked at each other and then stared back at the Scottish man.
–.... what ?!
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HIIIIIIIII I LOVE EVERYTHING YOU DRAW MARTY, THIS IS PURE GOLD >~< THANK YOU A LOOOOOOOT ! ❤️❤️❤️💫💫💫😍😍😍
I’m firmly convinced that everyone needs a Raymond in their lives 💕
However this is my part for the art trade with the incredible ✨@mirza-majoris✨
She’s such a talented artist and lovely person so please if you’re into pl stuff and gorgeous art check her out! >:3
To apology about that weird dark shitty post yesterday, something more joyful !
DRESSES *^*
I love drawing dresses so I redrew some of them from Beauty and the Beat, 2014, a french film with incredible costumes *^*
And also Anastasia's dresses because SPARKLES ! *^*
And finally, on Tudor-inspiration dress and a dark wizard because I love history and fantasy XD
The models are 3 OCs of a friend X3 respectively Stella, Marianne and Atlas
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Mimi, a little french girl, fan of Professor Layton games, write and draw sometimes, love stories and drama a lot more that I should
85 posts