fic: Above I
May. 28th, 2010 10:25 pm![[personal profile]](https://www.dreamwidth.org/img/silk/identity/user.png){kind=small}
bonnefoisI split most of the plot related things to another part and tried to make this as standalone as possible, but...I can write another prompt for you if you want. Any Neverwhere prompt that isn't blatantly AU will probably end up a chapter.
Title: Above I
Day/Theme: 5. 28. I dream in my dream all the dreams of other dreamers
Series: Neverwhere
Character/Pairing: Marquis de Carabas, Richard, Door, OC
Rating: PG-13 is the default
Word count: 1287
Author's note: part of the Good Enough ficverse. this was for Quiddative's domestic meme thing.
Door poured water on the last of the embers and Richard felt a bit bad to leave where he'd been sleeping. Sure, some blankets weren't anything like the firm mattress he used to have, but he'd been comfortable and warm, and not entirely ready to leave the embrace of sleep yet.
But the Marquis had that eager gleam in his eye – he always had a gleam in his eye somehow. Mischievous, knowing, teasing, but this one seemed to be the kind wherein he was sure he could garner a favor.
And really there was no reasoning with the Marquis when there was something like that involved. Richard pulled himself up and hoped groggily that they could find some coffee somewhere, or tea. Tea worked too.
"I've got a hot tip that there's something of interest Above. Milady, if you will," The Marquis said with a sweeping bow.
"Be glad to," Door said. She touched the grimy wall and the tunnel turned another color, until they were looking at clouds and sky and day. They walked out through it, to the busy London streets. No one saw them there.
"We're going shopping," the Marquis said.
"I thought they couldn't see us up there?" Richard queried. He looked to Door for answers.
"You should know by now, the Marquis always finds a way," she said.
"You're very astute, Lady Door," he said.
Soon they were being lead off through the zigzagging streets. The Marquis seemed to instinctually know where he was going, and he was obviously in good spirts as he did not let up. It was a chore to keep up with him. Eventually they came to this little place tucked in a corner, called Thisebane's Collectibles. Inside everything was polished to a bright sheen, as if dust never even got a chance to settle. It was a veritable museum of artifacts, from little baubles to coins, and even larger things like furniture and such.
"If you want something for yourself, I'm afraid you're on your own," De Carabas said.
The Marquis did not look for long, but walked straight towards the desk where the proprietor was making repairs to a book with a fraying cover. He was a small man, with of balding hair that seemed to have gone grey prematurely. It curled at the nape of his neck. He lifted his glasses and studied them.
"What can you give me for this?" De Carabas said. He opened his palm to reveal the coin.
"It's a forgery," the man protested. "You'd have to use time travel for something this good. Nobody will believe it."
"It's real and you know it. All I can say is that I have my methods. You know this already," De Carabas said smoothly. "Now answer my question: what can you give me for this?"
The proprietor narrowed his eyes. They looked cloudy and faint blue magnified by his cokebottle glasses.
"You'd probably be wanting some artifact or some other trade...."
"Yes, just as every other deal, money is useless to me," De Carabas said. The proprietor looked dour. He seemed in thought, until he took a passing glance to the other customers.
"Hey you over there – no touching!"
Richard jerked back as if he'd been slapped. Door giggled, a hand over her mouth, but barely containing the mirth.
"I was just trying to get a better look," Richard protested.
"A better look so you could steal for this crook over here," the proprietor said.
Richard looked chagrined. The Marquis just smiled a sarcastic sort of smile.
"Really, betray you? I wouldn't think of such a thing," the Marquis said smoothly.
The proprietor hmmphed.. He rifled around in a drawer and pulled out a small velvet black bag
"I just got this one in last month," the proprietor said.
The Marquis' gaze was rapt as he looked inside. Then he smiled, slow and triumphant.
"I'll take it," De Carabas said.
*
"So, where to next?" Richard said. He was glad to be rid of the place and its infernal proprietor. He still felt a little sullen at being yelled at. He'd just been looking. (Richard didn't care if that made him sound like a teenager. He'd been innocent, dammit.)
"I suppose we could do a little more shopping," the Marquis said. The way he accentuated the word 'shopping' really made Richard wonder. Soon they were being dragged off again to another place, until they came to an open-air market. It had all sorts of things, and almost reminded him of the floating market for sheer variety of things. There were food stands and little trinkets, to say nothing of the clothing and books on the far side.
"How exactly are we going to shop again?" Richard said. "I don't think these guys can see us."
"Richard," Door murmured. "When he says shop, he means take."
"Oh. Stealing. Right," Richard said. "Do I have to worry about them seeing me?"
Richard hadn't lost all of his Above rules, even if the Marquis seemed hellbent on bending them all away. Still, he supposed the shopkeepers wouldn't miss it if they just took a little of something he really needed.
"Probably not unless you talk to them. Just be casual and blend in."
Richard was sure he blended in well walking with a rather tall (quite handsome) black man in an elaborate coat, and a girl looking as if she had robbed a theater troupe and then a museum for good measure.
He browsed anyways. He'd used to browse these sorts of places before he dated Jessica, but she found them dirty and utterly classless, so he stopped. They were always an interesting visit, as you'd never know what you might find. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' indeed.
The Marquis was expanding his goods with flair. He had very many deep pockets, and it seemed as if he were going to fill all of them. Richard kept wondering if he'd get caught, but time and time again the people just looked past him. The last thing he took was some food. It reminded Richard that he'd not had any breakfast – or coffee for that matter. Now there was something he could take without any regrets.
He blinked as he realized that his dream – the one of two girls walking on and on through a seemingly endless tunnel had fractured into two girls walking around this very place. In fact, the little girl next to Anesthesia had been fingering this very afghan before she was lead away by someone coming. It wasn't a very notable afghan. That it was a brown color was a plus as it would hide the dirt, and it seemed soft enough. On second thought, it'd probably make a good pillow.
It wasn't as easy to shove into his pockets, but Richard picked it up as casually as he could. He noted a little tap as something fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up, and found a little figurine, of obsidian, apparently. The light wasn't good enough for him to make out exactly what it was. He put that in his pocket, and took the afghan looking ahead all the while and hoping no one would notice.
The thought struck him that the girl hadn't been fingering it, so much as hiding something it in. He felt the figurine in his pocket, and found it surprisingly warm to the touch.
Title: Above I
Day/Theme: 5. 28. I dream in my dream all the dreams of other dreamers
Series: Neverwhere
Character/Pairing: Marquis de Carabas, Richard, Door, OC
Rating: PG-13 is the default
Word count: 1287
Author's note: part of the Good Enough ficverse. this was for Quiddative's domestic meme thing.
Door poured water on the last of the embers and Richard felt a bit bad to leave where he'd been sleeping. Sure, some blankets weren't anything like the firm mattress he used to have, but he'd been comfortable and warm, and not entirely ready to leave the embrace of sleep yet.
But the Marquis had that eager gleam in his eye – he always had a gleam in his eye somehow. Mischievous, knowing, teasing, but this one seemed to be the kind wherein he was sure he could garner a favor.
And really there was no reasoning with the Marquis when there was something like that involved. Richard pulled himself up and hoped groggily that they could find some coffee somewhere, or tea. Tea worked too.
"I've got a hot tip that there's something of interest Above. Milady, if you will," The Marquis said with a sweeping bow.
"Be glad to," Door said. She touched the grimy wall and the tunnel turned another color, until they were looking at clouds and sky and day. They walked out through it, to the busy London streets. No one saw them there.
"We're going shopping," the Marquis said.
"I thought they couldn't see us up there?" Richard queried. He looked to Door for answers.
"You should know by now, the Marquis always finds a way," she said.
"You're very astute, Lady Door," he said.
Soon they were being lead off through the zigzagging streets. The Marquis seemed to instinctually know where he was going, and he was obviously in good spirts as he did not let up. It was a chore to keep up with him. Eventually they came to this little place tucked in a corner, called Thisebane's Collectibles. Inside everything was polished to a bright sheen, as if dust never even got a chance to settle. It was a veritable museum of artifacts, from little baubles to coins, and even larger things like furniture and such.
"If you want something for yourself, I'm afraid you're on your own," De Carabas said.
The Marquis did not look for long, but walked straight towards the desk where the proprietor was making repairs to a book with a fraying cover. He was a small man, with of balding hair that seemed to have gone grey prematurely. It curled at the nape of his neck. He lifted his glasses and studied them.
"What can you give me for this?" De Carabas said. He opened his palm to reveal the coin.
"It's a forgery," the man protested. "You'd have to use time travel for something this good. Nobody will believe it."
"It's real and you know it. All I can say is that I have my methods. You know this already," De Carabas said smoothly. "Now answer my question: what can you give me for this?"
The proprietor narrowed his eyes. They looked cloudy and faint blue magnified by his cokebottle glasses.
"You'd probably be wanting some artifact or some other trade...."
"Yes, just as every other deal, money is useless to me," De Carabas said. The proprietor looked dour. He seemed in thought, until he took a passing glance to the other customers.
"Hey you over there – no touching!"
Richard jerked back as if he'd been slapped. Door giggled, a hand over her mouth, but barely containing the mirth.
"I was just trying to get a better look," Richard protested.
"A better look so you could steal for this crook over here," the proprietor said.
Richard looked chagrined. The Marquis just smiled a sarcastic sort of smile.
"Really, betray you? I wouldn't think of such a thing," the Marquis said smoothly.
The proprietor hmmphed.. He rifled around in a drawer and pulled out a small velvet black bag
"I just got this one in last month," the proprietor said.
The Marquis' gaze was rapt as he looked inside. Then he smiled, slow and triumphant.
"I'll take it," De Carabas said.
*
"So, where to next?" Richard said. He was glad to be rid of the place and its infernal proprietor. He still felt a little sullen at being yelled at. He'd just been looking. (Richard didn't care if that made him sound like a teenager. He'd been innocent, dammit.)
"I suppose we could do a little more shopping," the Marquis said. The way he accentuated the word 'shopping' really made Richard wonder. Soon they were being dragged off again to another place, until they came to an open-air market. It had all sorts of things, and almost reminded him of the floating market for sheer variety of things. There were food stands and little trinkets, to say nothing of the clothing and books on the far side.
"How exactly are we going to shop again?" Richard said. "I don't think these guys can see us."
"Richard," Door murmured. "When he says shop, he means take."
"Oh. Stealing. Right," Richard said. "Do I have to worry about them seeing me?"
Richard hadn't lost all of his Above rules, even if the Marquis seemed hellbent on bending them all away. Still, he supposed the shopkeepers wouldn't miss it if they just took a little of something he really needed.
"Probably not unless you talk to them. Just be casual and blend in."
Richard was sure he blended in well walking with a rather tall (quite handsome) black man in an elaborate coat, and a girl looking as if she had robbed a theater troupe and then a museum for good measure.
He browsed anyways. He'd used to browse these sorts of places before he dated Jessica, but she found them dirty and utterly classless, so he stopped. They were always an interesting visit, as you'd never know what you might find. 'One man's trash is another man's treasure' indeed.
The Marquis was expanding his goods with flair. He had very many deep pockets, and it seemed as if he were going to fill all of them. Richard kept wondering if he'd get caught, but time and time again the people just looked past him. The last thing he took was some food. It reminded Richard that he'd not had any breakfast – or coffee for that matter. Now there was something he could take without any regrets.
He blinked as he realized that his dream – the one of two girls walking on and on through a seemingly endless tunnel had fractured into two girls walking around this very place. In fact, the little girl next to Anesthesia had been fingering this very afghan before she was lead away by someone coming. It wasn't a very notable afghan. That it was a brown color was a plus as it would hide the dirt, and it seemed soft enough. On second thought, it'd probably make a good pillow.
It wasn't as easy to shove into his pockets, but Richard picked it up as casually as he could. He noted a little tap as something fell to the ground. He bent to pick it up, and found a little figurine, of obsidian, apparently. The light wasn't good enough for him to make out exactly what it was. He put that in his pocket, and took the afghan looking ahead all the while and hoping no one would notice.
The thought struck him that the girl hadn't been fingering it, so much as hiding something it in. He felt the figurine in his pocket, and found it surprisingly warm to the touch.
