Things I Wrote at One Time or Another

The Arcana; "Modern AU?"

A/N: I think this was my first attempt at a modern au after playing The Arcana for the first time. Early Modern Luca was more of a Vincent, I see.

"Never forget thy fall, O Icarus of the Fearless Flight for the greatest

tragedy of them all is never to feel the burning light."

Oscar Wilde

0. Disparity

He steals me in the night.

His memory of ebony and blue, of stardust and skin. He engulfs me when I close my eyes—when I'm most vulnerable. His fingers trail upwards from my bed sheets and the scent of his skin wafts up into me, taking me in like a psychedelic. I remain a vessel to his visions; his illusions. An influence so powerful, I'm left drunk on the idea of him. I'm perverse, I've been jinxed-- I'm in desperate need.

He caught me the first time.

(A/N: *inhales*)

1. Of Gods and Monsters

The black bar's been blinking for about twenty minutes now and all I could think about at the moment was whether my UberEats would arrive soon. I wanted to close my laptop, but I hadn't written a single word since school let out. June pressed heavily against my back, sweat practically cascading down like a waterfall. The fan barely freed me from this torture of a heatwave. I decided to take a break (for the umpteenth time or so) and make some tea-- not that I really cared for it, but it tasted better than coffee.

I cleared through a few unpacked boxes and headed towards the small hallway that was my kitchen. I didn't own much (at most an abundance of clothes I hadn't gotten around to sorting out) but it seemed to pile around my small apartment. But I liked it, in a strange way. I've started collecting obscure plants, a few potted house plants to clutter corners and accompany me during the day. The succulents lived on the window sills, flora on the balcony, and my cactus (George) on the kitchen counter. Whatever else could take up my space was my plethora of books-- textbooks, classics, biographies, and random selections from odd places. It was appropriate since I worked in a bookstore-- at least, that's how I justify hoarding them all. My mother came to help me move in, despite my adamant protests against it, and insisted on having me donate the books I've already read or haven't touched in over 5 years. But I refused ("They have important notes in them" or "I might want to reread them one day-- I'm sure of it.") and we moved on to more pressing matters. Like the fact that I plan on making a living on writing books when I can barely bring myself to get past the third chapter of my "novel."

I sighed, taking my mug out of the microwave and dropping the tea bag in. It plopped in and dunk itself after a few tugs, I watched the white foam collect at the corners. I check my phone and I'm about to call to check on my order when I hear my doorbell ring, followed by a raucous knock on my door.

I push a fern out of my way towards the door and look through the keyhole.

I'm greeted by an equally curious blue eye.

Upon opening the door Portia barrels in, almost tripping over my fern. Behind her Nadia follows en suit, giving me a pleasant smile. I nervously clear the dining table that I positioned just outside the kitchen as Portia raids my fridge. "It's been almost three weeks, you still haven't gone grocery shopping?" she said, placing a hand on her hip, obviously displeased with the lack of proper food. I lived off TV dinners, packaged food from the corner store, and protein bars. I knew how to cook but barely found the time and energy to do so.

"I'm trying to save money."

"By starving?"

"If it comes to it," I said, taking a seat next to Nadia at the table. "You didn't call, if I knew you guys were coming I would've taken a shower." I've been wearing the same black basketball shorts and Shamrock T-shirt (it says "Take a picture, it'll last longer" in green letters and shamrock patterns, it doesn't make much sense) since yesterday.

Nadia ran her acrylic nails through her royally dark hair, the dim light from the kitchen and the light emitting from her phone made it practically glow in violet. "You most likely should, since we came to take you out."

"Take me out?" I said, practically horrified. "Take me where?"

"Out! In the world!" Portia said, settling down in the chair across from me with an opened protein bar. She pinched the pieces between her fingers and popped them into her mouth like popcorn (where was my UberEats?). "You think you'll get away with the same shit you pulled during Spring break?" She began to fall into a poor imitation of my voice, "Gosh, I'm real sorry guys-- I just can't seem to get myself out of bed, I'm just so tired with tests and my novel--"

"I don't say 'Gosh.'" I argued, futally.

"That's not the point!" She pulled out her phone, a small photo of her cat Pepi was tucked in between her phone and it's clear case. She turned it over to me after a moment, displaying a Nightclub's webpage. The name 'AZURE' glowed on the top of the page, most of it was displaying the live artworks they had, the music guests, and upcoming events. From what I could grasp from that minute of scanning through it, AZURE was not a place I would enjoy. It looked loud and unbelievably bright and colorful. It was not a place for me and wire-frame glasses, or my journals and gentle music. It was not a place for me, period.

"Lucio recommended it to me, he knows the owner so we can get in for free." Nadia pointed out.

I grimaced, "Don't we hate Lucio?" I said. His name was like thick oil on my tongue.

"We do," Portia said, pushing a strand of her red hair behind her ear--showing off her multiple ear piercings. They looked like small trinkets hanging off her skin. "But that doesn't mean Nadia can't guilt trip him into doing stuff for us."

"It's very exclusive."

"Tres exclusive." (accent.)

"Je suis tres enerve." (accent.) I added, flatly.

Nadia leaned in a bit, resting her slender hand over mine. "Consider it as an early Birthday present, it'll be an amazing experience."

I scoffed, "I'm pretty sure we agreed to go out for top-notch Ramen and settle the evening at the Theatre for my birthday--"

"Not yours!" She interjected with a sinister smirk, "I mean mine." Her birthday was the day after mine and was usually spent modestly to counter her lavish upbringing. A trip to a Nightclub did not seem like a modest evening. "To have both of my best friends with me at an exclusive Nightclub would mean the world to me." She curled an arm around me like a snake, her eyes boring into mine like plums on the windowsill.