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Title: Wallpaper of Broadway
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, everyone else in the series.
Rating: R for implied adult situations
Summary: What if Cain, DG, and Raw had first encountered Glitch working as a bartender in the Mystic Man's club? This story is an AU that parallels the series using this scenario.
Notes: This could not have been completed without the awesome beta work by![[livejournal.com profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/external/lj-userinfo.gif)
kseda. Whenever I shouted “LINE!” – she came through and I love her endlessly for it!
Prologue: Chains
9 Annuals Past
Everyone knew him as he made his rounds, though not many would realize he had not been there all along. He was a new face, only arriving in the last five annuals but making himself well known so quickly that no one would question his tenure.
Another dank, sordid excuse of a nightclub came into sight and he rubbed his palms on his thighs. Always prepared for what he would see but never quite able to get used to the deeper reactions of pity and disgust.
Within moments of entering he had a drink in hand, compliments of the owner of course, and he surveyed the crowd. He covered his wince by taking another drink, hating the dull, drugged outline of the men and women gathered here. Just another in a sickening variety of holes in the wall he had found in the Realm of the Unwanted.
On the stage, a handful of clearly stoned performers swung from poles, their few strips of clothing leaving nothing to the imagination.
The blue and green stage lights that burned their skin caught something else, something that drew not only the attention of the audience but of the man drinking alone at the bar. He frowned, setting his drink down and stepping closer to the stage.
There were shining, sparkling bits of glass – beads, flat medallions, a hodgepodge of glittery things haphazardly clipped and strung onto a few strands of delicate chain and those chains, each a few good hands in length, were hooked onto the back of the dancer’s head, almost lost amid the long curls.
Ahamo’s eyes widened as he watched the dancer spin around gracefully, head back to let the chains catch the light. It wasn’t the chains or the bangles that caught his attention but what they were attached to – the pull of a zipper, embedded down the center of the man’s head.
When the dancer’s face came into view, Ahamo blinked with recognition. His heart raced in his chest. Ambrose, he thought, mind whirling. What’s happened to you?
Patting his pocket to make sure he had what he needed, Ahamo pushed past the mindless, frozen throng until he reached the club owner’s table. Careful to keep his face neutral and his voice dull and uninterested, Ahamo waved his hand vaguely toward the stage. “How much for that one? The one with the beads.”
Lykaios gave him a wolfish grin. “So the mysterious Ahamo finally shows some taste. That one will cost you, my friend. He is very popular among my best clients.”
Ahamo snorted derisively, not willing to risk showing his hand. “He’s a headcase, Lyka. But a pretty one, I’ll admit. Two hundred for him.”
The owner barked out a laugh, joined by the others sitting at his table. “You might have taste but you show little respect for my property. Eight hundred for the night.”
“Four and he leaves with me. I’ll not take something so valuable to one of your disease-ridden rooms,” Ahamo crossed his arms and held Lykaios’s gaze firmly.
“I’ve had better offers than that for him tonight, friend,” Lykaios snarled, losing patience.
Ahamo shook his head. “If that were true, why is he still dancing?”
“Seven and he stays here.”
“Four and a half. He comes with me.”
Lykaios pounded a fist on the table. “You try my patience.”
“And if you want this hellhole to still be standing when the suns rise, you know better than to deny me what I ask,” Ahamo brushed his hand casually over the front of his jacket, dusting off imaginary specks. “Remember the Blue Flower nightclub?”
“No,” Lykaios sat back in his chair, thrown by the shift in topic.
“No one does,” Ahamo curled up one side of his mouth in a predatory grin, enough to show teeth. “Five hundred plats, the dancer comes with me and you don’t go looking for him again. Do we have an understanding?”
Outbid and losing interest, Lykaios swept his hand in the air, as if dismissing the value of his “best” employee. “Take him,” he said, bored with the whole thing already.
Ahamo pulled the bills from his pocket and tossed them onto the table. “Have one of your people show me to his room.”
~~
The closet Ahamo was led to held nothing more than a small, unkempt bed and a crate for a nightstand. On it rested a small electric lamp, the bare bulb emitting a weak yellow light.
Unwilling to sit on the bed, Ahamo waited until the door was pushed open again and the dancer from the stage entered. Dark, warm eyes, painfully familiar yet showing no recognition, fixed on him. “Well, well – what have we here? A very handsome man indeed,” he purred.
Ahamo ducked past the man and shut the door, then turned back. “Look, I’m getting you out of here. Now. Pack up any personal items, put on some clothes and forget this place ever happened.”
There was a throaty chuckle in reply. “What are you talking about? This is where I live and work, in case you hadn’t noticed. Where do you intend to take me?” He moved closer as he talked, dragging his fingers down Ahamo’s chest.
Taking a step back but capturing the wayward hand, Ahamo met the other man’s eye. “Listen. I know you don’t remember me, or probably anything from a few annuals ago. But I know you. You’re someone very important to me, to my family and to the kingdom. I’m taking you away from here and putting you where I know you’ll be safe. Where I can find you when the time comes. Now, move.”
The dancer took a step back, almost running into his bed in the tiny room. He shook his head, confused. “If you know me so well, what’s my name?”
Ahamo opened his mouth then closed it again. “That’s something you’ll have to remember on your own. Until then, we’ll just call you – Glitch.”
“That’s a terrible name,” the man grumbled. “Where’d that come from, just grab it out of thin air?”
“Finding you here tonight was a complete glitch, one I’ll always be grateful for,” Ahamo said quietly.
Glitch shrugged. “As good a name as any, I suppose,” he said, shrugging out of his silky, transparent stage shirt. His hair hung down past his shoulders, deep brown curls that tangled and swayed. The back of his shoulders and neck were covered in swirling, disorganized tattoos that matched the way his hair lay on the skin, giving the illusion of even thicker, longer hair. He pulled on a different shirt, a simple white tank top that showed off his tattoos. “Where are we going?”
Ahamo raised his head. “Central City. You know anything about mixing drinks?”
~~
End Prologue.
To Chapter 1
Characters/Pairings: Glitch/Cain, everyone else in the series.
Rating: R for implied adult situations
Summary: What if Cain, DG, and Raw had first encountered Glitch working as a bartender in the Mystic Man's club? This story is an AU that parallels the series using this scenario.
Notes: This could not have been completed without the awesome beta work by
kseda. Whenever I shouted “LINE!” – she came through and I love her endlessly for it!Prologue: Chains
9 Annuals Past
Everyone knew him as he made his rounds, though not many would realize he had not been there all along. He was a new face, only arriving in the last five annuals but making himself well known so quickly that no one would question his tenure.
Another dank, sordid excuse of a nightclub came into sight and he rubbed his palms on his thighs. Always prepared for what he would see but never quite able to get used to the deeper reactions of pity and disgust.
Within moments of entering he had a drink in hand, compliments of the owner of course, and he surveyed the crowd. He covered his wince by taking another drink, hating the dull, drugged outline of the men and women gathered here. Just another in a sickening variety of holes in the wall he had found in the Realm of the Unwanted.
On the stage, a handful of clearly stoned performers swung from poles, their few strips of clothing leaving nothing to the imagination.
The blue and green stage lights that burned their skin caught something else, something that drew not only the attention of the audience but of the man drinking alone at the bar. He frowned, setting his drink down and stepping closer to the stage.
There were shining, sparkling bits of glass – beads, flat medallions, a hodgepodge of glittery things haphazardly clipped and strung onto a few strands of delicate chain and those chains, each a few good hands in length, were hooked onto the back of the dancer’s head, almost lost amid the long curls.
Ahamo’s eyes widened as he watched the dancer spin around gracefully, head back to let the chains catch the light. It wasn’t the chains or the bangles that caught his attention but what they were attached to – the pull of a zipper, embedded down the center of the man’s head.
When the dancer’s face came into view, Ahamo blinked with recognition. His heart raced in his chest. Ambrose, he thought, mind whirling. What’s happened to you?
Patting his pocket to make sure he had what he needed, Ahamo pushed past the mindless, frozen throng until he reached the club owner’s table. Careful to keep his face neutral and his voice dull and uninterested, Ahamo waved his hand vaguely toward the stage. “How much for that one? The one with the beads.”
Lykaios gave him a wolfish grin. “So the mysterious Ahamo finally shows some taste. That one will cost you, my friend. He is very popular among my best clients.”
Ahamo snorted derisively, not willing to risk showing his hand. “He’s a headcase, Lyka. But a pretty one, I’ll admit. Two hundred for him.”
The owner barked out a laugh, joined by the others sitting at his table. “You might have taste but you show little respect for my property. Eight hundred for the night.”
“Four and he leaves with me. I’ll not take something so valuable to one of your disease-ridden rooms,” Ahamo crossed his arms and held Lykaios’s gaze firmly.
“I’ve had better offers than that for him tonight, friend,” Lykaios snarled, losing patience.
Ahamo shook his head. “If that were true, why is he still dancing?”
“Seven and he stays here.”
“Four and a half. He comes with me.”
Lykaios pounded a fist on the table. “You try my patience.”
“And if you want this hellhole to still be standing when the suns rise, you know better than to deny me what I ask,” Ahamo brushed his hand casually over the front of his jacket, dusting off imaginary specks. “Remember the Blue Flower nightclub?”
“No,” Lykaios sat back in his chair, thrown by the shift in topic.
“No one does,” Ahamo curled up one side of his mouth in a predatory grin, enough to show teeth. “Five hundred plats, the dancer comes with me and you don’t go looking for him again. Do we have an understanding?”
Outbid and losing interest, Lykaios swept his hand in the air, as if dismissing the value of his “best” employee. “Take him,” he said, bored with the whole thing already.
Ahamo pulled the bills from his pocket and tossed them onto the table. “Have one of your people show me to his room.”
~~
The closet Ahamo was led to held nothing more than a small, unkempt bed and a crate for a nightstand. On it rested a small electric lamp, the bare bulb emitting a weak yellow light.
Unwilling to sit on the bed, Ahamo waited until the door was pushed open again and the dancer from the stage entered. Dark, warm eyes, painfully familiar yet showing no recognition, fixed on him. “Well, well – what have we here? A very handsome man indeed,” he purred.
Ahamo ducked past the man and shut the door, then turned back. “Look, I’m getting you out of here. Now. Pack up any personal items, put on some clothes and forget this place ever happened.”
There was a throaty chuckle in reply. “What are you talking about? This is where I live and work, in case you hadn’t noticed. Where do you intend to take me?” He moved closer as he talked, dragging his fingers down Ahamo’s chest.
Taking a step back but capturing the wayward hand, Ahamo met the other man’s eye. “Listen. I know you don’t remember me, or probably anything from a few annuals ago. But I know you. You’re someone very important to me, to my family and to the kingdom. I’m taking you away from here and putting you where I know you’ll be safe. Where I can find you when the time comes. Now, move.”
The dancer took a step back, almost running into his bed in the tiny room. He shook his head, confused. “If you know me so well, what’s my name?”
Ahamo opened his mouth then closed it again. “That’s something you’ll have to remember on your own. Until then, we’ll just call you – Glitch.”
“That’s a terrible name,” the man grumbled. “Where’d that come from, just grab it out of thin air?”
“Finding you here tonight was a complete glitch, one I’ll always be grateful for,” Ahamo said quietly.
Glitch shrugged. “As good a name as any, I suppose,” he said, shrugging out of his silky, transparent stage shirt. His hair hung down past his shoulders, deep brown curls that tangled and swayed. The back of his shoulders and neck were covered in swirling, disorganized tattoos that matched the way his hair lay on the skin, giving the illusion of even thicker, longer hair. He pulled on a different shirt, a simple white tank top that showed off his tattoos. “Where are we going?”
Ahamo raised his head. “Central City. You know anything about mixing drinks?”
~~
End Prologue.
To Chapter 1
![[identity profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/openid.png){kind=small}
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This was a fantastic beginning and I'm hungry for more. More of that lovely zipper bling! XD
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Ahamo just glides right into this setting, doesn't he?
And the zipper bling! *needs a moment* * is back*
The back of his shoulders and neck were covered in swirling, disorganized tattoos that matched the way his hair lay on the skin, giving the illusion of even thicker, longer hair.
A lovely sentence and a lovely, exotic image!
*gets a snack and heads on to part II*
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“No,” Lykaios sat back in his chair, thrown by the shift in topic.
“No one does
Duuuuuuude. Awesome dialogue!!!!
And the zipper-bling (stole that from avari and nillie) was incredibly HOT. I mean, pretty and sparkly. No, I mean hot.
This was one hell of a teaser!
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(Though don't let me keep you from more important things than silly fic!! :D )
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sillyexcellent fic!!!! *glitchnod*From:
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