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Snippet #2580774

located in New York City, a part of Time is Running Out, one of the many universes on RPG.

New York City

None

Setting

Characters Present

Character Portrait: James Williams Character Portrait: Ares Bennett Character Portrait: Arabella Fields Character Portrait: Katrina Lyons
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Arabella looked into Jamesā€™ rich chestnut coloured eyes, filled with love for her. She was sitting cross-legged on the grass opposite him, the warm sun beating down on them and illuminating his pretty tanned skin. James smiled at her, his lips parting slightly to show his perfect teeth. Arabella reached a hand towards his face, running her fingers through his lovely, slightly tousled black hair, continuing down to stroke his soft cheek. He lifted his own hand to her cheek, brushing a lose strand of light blonde hair from her face, the two a mirror image of each other. Then he slipped his big, strong hand round the back of her head, pulling her face close to his. Then he kissed her, his soft lips melting into hers, like they were born to fit together. He tasted like maple syrup and happiness and love.

ā€œI love you,ā€ she said breathlessly, pulling back, her eyes locked intensely with his.

ā€œI love you too, Bells,ā€ James responded, his eyes full of sincerity and warmth.

Bella leant in to kiss him again. But something felt wrong. When her lips met his, they felt light, like they were barely there, and ice cold. She pulled back, shocked. When she looked at him, he was pale, like all the colour had been sucked from his image. The brown of his eyes, the grey of his shirt, the pink of his lips. He was fading.

ā€œJames?ā€ she said fearfully. ā€œWhatā€™s wrong?ā€

ā€œBella! Help!ā€ he cried.

ā€œJames!ā€ As he faded he was beginning to get further and further from her, as though the space between them was being stretched. She tried to run towards him, but no matter how hard she tried, she didnā€™t seem to get any closer.

ā€œBella!ā€ he shouted ā€œBella help m-ā€œ

And then he was gone.

ā€œJames!ā€ Arabella screamed again.


XXX


ā€œJa-ā€œ Arabellaā€™s eyes flew open and she stopped, mid-screaming his name, her voice dying in her throat.

Fuck, Bella thought, quickly turning over in bed, expecting to see Aresā€™ furious face. But instead, she was met with the sight of an empty side of the bed. Thank god, was Bellaā€™s second conscious thought, if he had heard that, there would have been a lot of questions. She would have almost certainly been cast from the Maniacs, and knowing Aresā€™ temperamental nature, she may also have lost her life, had he been in the right mood. She knew she was only Aresā€™ casual fuck, when he was bored and needed entertainment. She was of no great value to him, and certainly not anyone he cared for. Yes, sleeping with him provided Ares with an incentive to keep her here, and prevented others from trying to get rid of her, for fear of angering one of their leaders, but she was certain that one slip would result in the end of her time as a Maniac, and possibly alive.

But it was still not enough risk to deter Arabella from being here. Nothing would sway her from that choice. No matter how much she was afraid, and missed her brother and the luxury and power of her life as a Youngblood, Arabella wouldnā€™t leave this place without winning back the love of her life and taking him back with her to live happily together again. Her brother and everyone in the Youngbloods would be proud of her for surviving as a Maniac and bringing back their secrets to help take them down. She would finally be as good as her brother and with her perfect James by her side. Or at least, that was the dream. But she was sure it would come true. James would fall in love with her again after seeing her save him, she was sure. Stella would be a thought of the past, just a fling, until he remembered who his true love was. They were happy once, just like in her dream, and they could be again, Arabella was sure. She just had to keep Ares sweet, as not to blow her cover.

Arabella swung her legs over the side of the bed. She went over to Aresā€™ dresser, opening a draw and pulling out a matching set of hot pink lacy underwear. She had begun keeping clean underwear in Aresā€™ room, since there were few mornings when she woke up in her own. Sheā€™d only been with the Maniacs a little over a week, but she had already learnt quickly. Besides, Ares seemed to like her keeping her things in his room. Perhaps it was a possession thing? With this in mind, she took one of Aresā€™ black t-shirts and pulling it over her head. It smelt slightly of smoke; the smell of Ares, and it had a tiny burn on the edge of one sleeve. Due to him being so skinny, it didnā€™t completely envelop her small frame, but due to his height it fell long enough to be decent, just. She pulled on a pair of her signature ripped black tights before turning to face the mirror. Here, she pulled her fingers through her hair to arrange her bleached locks. Arabella didnā€™t use hair brushes anymore; messy was definitely better in the Maniacs. Having learnt to keep makeup here too, she applied some red lipstick and re-darkened her eyes, blending in the smudges left over from the night before. A quick dusting of powder to her skin and she was done.

Arabella exited the room that Ares had commanded as his own, perhaps an old control room of some sorts in the subway, though she wasnā€™t sure. Sheā€™d never actually ridden the subway in her old life while it was in operation. Far too dangerous, her parents thought, and certainly beneath them. She hadnā€™t got far along the small corridor outside the room when she heard a sharp ring of metal. She wasnā€™t perfect on all the signals of the Maniacs yet, but she knew this one well enough. They were being summoned.

Arabella wasnā€™t entirely sure quite how to get back to where she knew the sound had resounded from. It was so confusing down here, and most nights she just followed Ares back, stopping at various points to be thrown or throw him against the wall to kiss him, her mind usually wrapped in a pleasant haze of alcohol. But as she joined one of what was obviously the main walkways, she saw a few others hurrying along it and followed them, eventually finding where they had been called to. As she entered the room where quite a little crowd was already beginning to form, she scanned the scene for Ares. She liked to take her place beside him, have him make some remark about the way she looked, or put a possessive hand on her back. Sometimes he would even take her hand and kiss it, in some big romantic gesture. Ares could play quite the romantic, as a tease, or as part of his image, Arabella thought. She felt safe beside him, none of the other Maniacs who didnā€™t like her for who she had been in the Youngbloods, or just didnā€™t trust her, couldnā€™t hurt her. And it gave her a sense of the power sheā€™d felt back at home, stood beside her brother, bathing in his glow. But, as she scanned the crowds, her eyes fell on something else.

Bella stopped dead.

Hunched over, face almost to the floor, was a man. The back of his head was slightly bloodied, his hair messy and unwashed, his clothes torn and filthy. But he was still unmistakable. It was him. It was James.