Gabriel Prosser’s Romantic Partner
Sitting in the foodcourt of a random mall, somewhere in a random city, in a random state, Gabriel Prosser allowed himself to relax somewhat. Busy as the Atherby clan and their assorted allies were, in this particular moment he had nothing immediately pressing to worry about. Yes, there was still more to do than could even be listed within a reasonable time, but he had learned long ago not to let that sort of thing overwhelm him every second of every day. He had learned that in two different ways, really. First as a slave, learning to compartmentalize things and only focus on what he could actually do something about. Then he had learned even more under Lyell Atherby, and the man’s wife, Edeva. He learned how to take everything he was worrying about, put it all in a box, and close that box when he needed to. And how to take one thing at a time from the box.
With the lid of the rather-full box firmly closed for the moment, Gabriel smiled idly at his plate of cheese-drenched french fries and spicy chicken wings. Some might have been surprised at the indulgence, but he enjoyed such culinary junk as much as anyone. Particularly at times like these, when he was setting aside his responsibilities and allowing himself a bit of pleasure.
Besides, the wings weren’t for him anyway. He was a vegetarian, though not a very strict one.
He could feel eyes pass over him, though most didn’t linger any longer than would be expected for someone seeing a rather tall, rather well-built black man in old well-worn and patched jeans and a faded flannel shirt. One of the mall security guards did watch him rather intently for a minute, another thing that was to be expected. He had long-since given up on any idea that strangers in a position of authority would give him the immediate benefit of the doubt. To far too many people, simply being a large man with dark skin made him a suspect, even if there wasn’t a specific crime to ascribe to him just yet. Not that they were a threat to him in any way, but if he wanted to sit here in peace without the use of magic or any other abilities, if he wanted to sit in a public space and eat his food, he had to be mindful of what motions he was making, where his hands went, and where he was looking. No sudden motions, no lingering gaze, nothing that would give anyone paying too much attention any reason to disturb his peace and quiet. It was far too easy for things to become… complicated otherwise.
Some might have asked why he didn’t simply use some ability to make himself unnoticed. He certainly possessed plenty of them. But the truth was that he didn’t do that because so many others of his skin color couldn’t. He never wanted to forget how others, who weren’t as fortunate as he happened to be, had to live every day. He never wanted to forget where he had come from.
The security guard’s attention was diverted after that moment, as his radio crackled. A voice came through, requesting assistance dealing with a disturbance on the second level. Though the man was standing on the far side of the food court and the radio, attached to his shoulder, was just loud enough to reach his ear, Gabriel still heard every word as though it had been right next to him. Just as, with a slight turn of his head and adjustment of his senses, he heard the actual disturbance on the opposite end of the mall. After listening for a moment, a very slight smirk found its way to his face, and he took one of his cheese-drenched fries as the guard ran off.
Those sounds of disturbance grew more distinct over the next minute, until he had no need of any enhanced senses. Running footsteps and shouts were approaching from that upper level, and he lifted his gaze that way idly in time to see a figure dashing through the crowd. The second floor wrapped around the food court, with a balcony allowing those upstairs to look down at the tables and restaurants below. Which gave those in the food court itself a clear view of the figure sprinting away from the conga line of security guards chasing them, as they shouted an assortment of demands for their quarry to stop. Demands which were very much not heeded.
As for the figure in question, they wore a pair of long, baggy jeans, expensive sneakers that were clearly meant for running and stood out against the overall cheapness of the rest of their outfit, a button-up white shirt under a faded black vest, ski cap pulled low on their head and a long black jacket that flapped behind them dramatically as they raced through the confused crowd, staying barely far enough ahead of the guards to just avoid being grabbed by the occasional grasping hand.
Soon there wouldn’t be anywhere for the figure to go, at least as far as those pursuing them were concerned. There was a sliding glass door leading to a balcony overlooking the parking lot, but the door was locked and barred. The entire wall ahead of them was taken up by that door and a large window. To the left was the railing and open air over the food court, and the guards had spread out to the right to cut off any attempted escape that way. Their quarry was boxed in.
Or so they thought. Without even slowing their pace, the running figure leapt and planted their feet against the glass, then ran sideways along the window, out over the food court. There were a few gasps from those watching, as well as the guards themselves, though they would most likely believe they were seeing the figure run along the narrow ledge just below the glass or something once the Bystander Effect was through making sure this didn’t stand out that much.
Reaching the end of the glass wall, the figure pushed off and dropped all the way down to the food court itself, coat billowing up over their head in the process. Landing smoothly near the swinging doors marked for employees only between two restaurants, the figure lifted their head and turned to reveal a slightly flushed caucasian face just long enough to cast a quick, toothy grin toward their pursuers. Those guards had almost all stopped short to stare over the railing, though a couple were already taking the stairs down. The figure gave them a quick, two-finger salute before going through the doors and down the hallway, their footsteps echoing loudly.
Gabriel adjusted his vision, looking through the closed doors in time to see the figure get halfway down the corridor beyond before casually stepping up against the wall. After a second, they seemed to meld with the wall, becoming a two-dimensional image of themself. A second after that, just as their first pursuers managed to make it through the doors, that image became a simple shadow on the wall. Those nearest guards, followed shortly by the others, ran right past them and through the doors beyond that led out to the employee part of the parking lot. Soon, they spread out to search the lot, frantically trying to figure out where their quarry had gone.
As for the figure themself, they stepped off the wall, becoming three-dimensional once more. The long dark coat came off and was tossed away, disappearing in midair. The ski cap followed, allowing a short mess of dark hair to emerge, falling to just above their shoulders. They brushed that out with their fingers, already pivoting to walk back the way they’d come. The ski cap disappeared as quickly and easily as the jacket had, before brushing their fingers over their belt transformed the baggy jeans into red slacks that better matched their white shirt. Just before emerging into the cafeteria, a snap of their fingers summoned a red suit jacket. Then they stepped through, plucking a pair of sunglasses from the jacket pocket and snapping them open with a single motion before putting them on. All that done while casually walking right past a couple trailing guards who were huffing and puffing that way to catch up with their companions and join the search. A search which, for rather obvious reasons, wasn’t actually going that well. Much to the mounting frustration for those in the parking lot, and their supervisors back in the security office.
Ignoring all that, the figure walked right up to where Gabriel was, tugging out the opposite chair before spinning it around to sit in it backwards. Their hand moved to grab one of the hot wings, examining it briefly. Then they took a bite and smiled, eyes closing behind those shades while the spice worked its way over their tongue. “Mmmm, now that hits the spot.” Their voice was tinged with a British accent. “These Americans, they might have funny ideas about a few things, but they do know how to make some spicy wings, I’ll give them that much.” Looking up to meet his gaze, they offered another toothy smile before finishing the last bit of meat from the wing.
For a long moment, Gabriel just gazed that way without any expression, before his face broke into a smile as he shook his head. “Didn’t we say we were going to have a quiet date for once?”
His companion gave him a cheeky shrug. “Do you hear any police sirens or fire trucks? This is quiet by our standards. Besides, I needed to work up an appetite and stretch my legs a bit. And they deserved a good bit of excitement. You know they’ll all be talking about that chase for years.”
With a soft chuckle, Gabriel glanced that way before nodding. “They certainly will. How did you set them off, anyway? All I heard was something about assaulting one of the shop managers.”
The response was an annoyed snort. “He’s lucky all I did was assault him. And, well, take this.” A wallet was tossed onto the table. “The man was harassing a girl in his shop for being trans, getting in her space, calling her a predator. I told him to knock it off, he thought it was a good idea to say something about me, so I put him on his ass. Now he can pay for the rest of our date. And uh…” The wallet was flipped open, as several hundred dollar bills slid out. “It’ll be a good one.” Stolen from its rightful author, this tale is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
Shaking his head after taking another cheese-drenched fry, Gabriel casually remarked, “Well, one thing’s certainly true. I can’t say that being involved with you has ever been boring, Moll.”
Mary Frith, also known as Moll Cutpurse back in their early Bystander days of the late fifteen hundreds and early sixteen hundreds, grinned. “Would you have it any other way, Gabriel?”
In that early time, Moll had been a notorious member of the English criminal world. Notorious for multiple reasons, not only for being a thief and a fence, but also for so-called crossdressing. They were assigned female at birth, but wore men’s clothing and smoked a pipe. Over the centuries since becoming a Natural Umbrac?l?tor (or Shadow Walker) Bonded, they had fully embraced the idea that they were neither male nor female, but some middle ground between the two. They were whatever they felt like being at any given time. They were themself, and damn whoever thought they had the right to object.
Gabriel certainly didn’t object. As Moll gave him that smirk, he took their hand and squeezed it, before leaning over to touch his lips to theirs. The kiss was exquisite, and he lost himself in it briefly. Yes, this was the right time to turn his thoughts away from all other responsibilities and focus on the precious time he could spend with his partner. With the mounting Heretic civil war, and the fact that the Seosten would soon be making their decision about whether to extend this truce or not, there were fewer and fewer opportunities for such distractions.
Finally relaxing back in their seat after that, Moll offered him a fond smile. “Once we’re finished here, I thought we’d see a movie in that theater on the other side of this place. A nice brainless action flick so you don’t have to think about anything. Lots of explosions and one-liners. Then a nice walk through the park and we can meet Simone. I have a few things to do with a couple friends, while you and Sims can have some alone time.”
Another thing that the person born as Mary Frith had come to understand and accept over all this time was that they truly had no particular interest in sexual relations of any sort. Kissing and some light touching was about as far as they cared to go. Which Gabriel had been more than willing to accept, but Moll wanted him to be satisfied as well. So, like they had for their earlier partners while they were still an ordinary Bystander, they found other women who were interested in such things. Arrangements were made, and agreed-upon by all parties involved. Simone ‘Sims’ Parker was one of the couples’ dearest friends. She enjoyed all the things Moll didn’t care for. Gabriel would have as much physical intimacy as both of them wanted, while Moll themself would carry on with their business. Then all three of them would go out for dessert.
It was, by most standards that ordinary people held, an abnormal sort of relationship, to say the least. But then again, nothing about Gabriel Prosser’s life, from being born into slavery, to leading a rebellion of those slaves, to becoming a Reaper-Heretic at what should have been his execution, to his entire life with the Atherbys, had ever been normal. He didn''t see any reason to start with his romance. Well, not this one anyway. He’d had a wife once, in his old life. Nanny had been a fine woman. There were times he still missed her, as he did his brothers, Solomon and Martin. Even after all these years, he could find himself thinking about those days and pondering what could have been.
But on the other hand, he had a large, extended family he cared about now. One he could protect. And he wouldn’t have traded Moll, or the excitement they brought, for anything.
“Well then,” he announced while standing up, his cheese fries finished. “I suppose we should make our way to the theater.” With that, he offered his arm to his partner. They took it, and the two of them began to casually meander that way. Yes, it was a complicated, busy, often tragic life for so many. But most had people who made it worthwhile for them.
He had Moll. And in his mind, that was a surer sign of his luck than any special powers in the universe.
********
Katarin Considers What Happened After Chasing ‘Jacob’ Through The City
There was something wrong with this entire situation. Ulysses Katarin knew that much, right on the face of it. He had just spent the past several minutes chasing that damned Necromancer all across the city while getting shot at by… by that invisible vessel in the sky. And for what? What had he accomplished? Jacob had escaped, after managing to kill dozens of people without any apparent rhyme or reason. Unless one counted his excuse that some other Necromancer had turned those people into living bombs as a reason, but that was just more Necromancer lies. Just like the lie that Fossor had told that nearly ended up wiping out the human population of the planet.
No, Necromancers couldn’t be trusted. They all seemed to take some sick joy out of manipulating others into thinking they were allies. Did that help them with their magic somehow? He had no idea, but it was safe to say the Necromancers he had encountered were good at it.
Now Jacob had completely vanished. They had called in help to try to track him down, but after the last time Katarin had encountered the man, he wasn’t holding out much hope on that front. Whatever his purpose in killing all those people had been, whether for some dark ritual, or because he really was in some sort of conflict with this Jack the Ripper (a rival, evidently), or just for fun, Katarin was fairly certain he wouldn’t poke his head up again in this city. And wherever he did appear again, it wouldn’t be for a long time. That was the thing about Jacob. He tended to pop up for brief moments, a day or two at the most, then vanish as though he had never been there. It made him incredibly annoying to try to chase down. Nothing about him made sense, especially the way he seemed to be able to go underground for years, decades, or even centuries at a time. Katarin had read notes about someone going by the name of Jacob, who matched that description, going back through… well about as long as they’d been keeping any notes at all.
Standing atop a building in the heart of London, Ulysses frowned as he surveyed the area he’d chased that man through. He was looking for anything he might’ve missed, any indication that all those deaths had been a mere distraction. Maybe Jacob had really been doing something else throughout that chase, and had simply chosen random people to kill to draw attention away from that. Had he been secretly inscribing any spell pieces on the buildings? Maybe he was searching for something, or… did he leave anything behind? There had been brief moments when the Necromancer had left Ulysses’s field of view, could he have done something at those times?
If he had, there was no evidence of it now. The bastard was too good at hiding his true intentions. And that vessel of his, the one that had clearly been hovering above the city, gave him too much of an advantage in these situations. If only they had some way of dealing with that--hold. Perhaps they did. Perhaps there was something they could do that could actually end that advantage.
Just as that thought came to mind, Ulysses found his attention being drawn to a woman standing in the garden behind one of the houses. He remembered passing through there as he chased Jacob after the man had transformed into that armored lion form. They had jumped down from… from that roof over there, just across the way. He’d had a perfect shot, for just a second while the lion-shaped Necromancer had gathered himself for another leap, and had sent a ball of--oh.
Jumping down from his perch before landing lightly, Ulysses walked through that back alleyway to reach the fence around the garden in question. A glance that way confirmed his suspicion. That concussive ball he had sent at Jacob, in an attempt to knock the man down long enough to get to him, had thoroughly destroyed the flowers that had been planted there. It was a real mess.
Grimacing, he took a breath before speaking up. “Looks like you had some real nice ones there.”
Crouching to pick up one of the mangled flowers, the woman spoke without turning around. “Had is the proper term for it, yes. You’re a long way from home, American. Come all this way just to admire a lady’s massacred flora?” She rose and finally turned to look at him. “Or are you still chasing that large werelion and just decided to backtrack to find out if he came this way again?”
Oh. She was beautiful. A rather tall woman with heavily tanned skin, standing barely an inch under his own six foot two. She looked as though she could go a few rounds with any belligerent man at the bar (or pub) and go back for more. Solidly built, but with a face that he could get lost in for days.
Her words made Ulysses give a brief double-take before arching an eyebrow as he quietly noted, “You’re not with Crossroads, or Garden. Ah, hobbies aside. I suppose that means you’re a Natural Bonded?” His gaze moved around the damaged flowerbed and nearby structure, reevaluating the whole area now that he knew this wasn’t just some ordinary Bystander woman.
In answer, she trailed her fingers through the scattered dirt. As she did so, the plants that had been torn up pulled themselves back together, while the dirt put itself back into place. Soon, the whole flower garden looked just as it must have before Jacob and he had passed through.
“It’s not as impressive as the sort of wild lightning bolts and balls of fire you’re capable of,” she allowed while brushing her hands off. “But I get by. Trouble is how many of these people around here won’t be as lucky. Did you chase your quarry to ground at least?”
Wincing, Ulysses shook his head. “No, I ahh… he escaped. But my people are still looking for him.”
For a moment, it looked like she was going to say something, but thought better of it. Instead, the woman extended a hand. “Lucy Culpepper. Now if you don’t mind, your little chase knocked over several of Mrs. Macquoid’s lovely pots by her gate, and I thought I’d see what can still be salvaged.”
After shaking her hand, the Crossroads Heretic watched her go briefly before making himself follow. “Ah, let me see what I can do to help with that. The name’s Ulysses Katarin.”
Looking over her shoulder at him, Lucy asked, “Are you sure your dastardly quarry can wait?”
“The others will let me know if they find something,” he assured her. “Besides, I have an idea about how to hamper him the next time he pokes his head up.
“It just means going back to America and paying a visit to the Baroness of Desoto.”
A/N - This storyline will be continued in a couple interludes at the end of the current arc