Act Natural

Ch. 5 - Trust Me To Stab You

Willias Blacke

"Willias!"

The man stroked his slightly red cheek with a gloved hand. He, Exuvius, and I sat on grey cotton sofas surrounding a polished oak table. The man I just hit took off his glove, rubbing the same spot on his face like his face was the most precious thing to him. It WAS the most precious thing to him. I've known him long enough to note that.

Kristian Cadell: A good friend and current pain in the a*s (He's good at multi-tasking.). This guy was probably one of the few people I would call a friend. We met a few years ago when I was new to this whole time-traveling escapade. I was only 20 at the time, and I time-traveled right at the time of his 17th birthday (time travel can be very confusing, but he's 20 at the moment. In his eyes, we haven't seen each other in 5 years, when to me, it was only 2). Just as I saw him, I fell right into his arms!

...

Literally. Romantic, right?! It would've been uncannily romantic if he hadn't fainted at the sight of my b****y, punctured arm. And that wasn't an exaggeration. Tree branches aren't exactly friendly to people who fall on them without permission. They're quite murderous. The Lorax would be very proud.

"Was that really necessary?!" The man whined, giving me an exaggerated pout. I glare at him and cross my legs. "Call me small one more f*****g time—"

"Okay, okay! Jeez! I won't do it again, Your Highness. "He grins widely, taking my hand and giving it a shake. "I haven't seen you in so long!"

"Likewise."

"How's your arm?"

"As okay as it can be, I guess..."

"And who's this?" He asked, looking at Exuvius and giving him a friendly smile. "He's just taggin' alo-"

"Is he your LOVER?!"

I gave him another smack on the cheek. Exuvius raised a fist to his mouth, mouth crooked as he tries to conceal a laugh. The corners of his eyes crinkled as he looked away. Cheeky bastard. I couldn't help but smile. Kristian pressed the back of his hand to his forehead. "How painful! Will! If you're keeping it a secret, I get it, alright!" "I am NOT courting him, you IDIOT."

I huff and stand up, gesturing for Exuvius to follow my lead. "Anyway, we have to go attend to some business. Sorry for cutting it short, but we have to be off, mate." I heaved, straightening my cravat.

"I'll go pay—"

"Nah, man, take those outfits for free. I owe you my life after... y'know..." He trailed off, glancing down at his polished shoes. Oh, did I mention? I saved his little brother's life! The poor guy almost fell off a cliff into the ocean, but the dashing hero A.K.A., Me, pulled him back onto dry ground effortlessly (Definitely not effortlessly. That young lad was heavier than a door). Yeah, I'm a hero. You can stop praising me now.

"Yeah, I already told you it was nothing." I gave Kristian a pat on his shoulder. "We might need a place to stay though... Can we--"

"OF COURSE YOU CAN!!"

"Not if you keep SCREAMING. IN. MY. b****y. EAR."

Kristian took a deep breath. "Okay, okay, okay, okay, okay, okay," He sputtered, unable to contain his joy. An excited smile dances on his lips, making him look like a puppy going for a walk. Like... a dumber... weirder... American version... of Antonio. At this point, Exuvius was the only normal person to me. Kristian looked like the personification of that emoticon with the colon and the number three - :3. It was annoying.

"How long are you staying?"

"About... 3 days? Maybe more."

"Do you... want a room with one bed or—"

"You're dead to me."

***

Exuvius and I walk down the bustling streets of New York. Although none of it looked new. Carriages with bright, intricate designs pulled by gorgeous horses passed by us, whisking up a little dust into the air. Tall wooden buildings with multiple windows lined the streets, much like how New York looks in the present, except everything seemed to constantly look like an antique painting- like the ones you see in museums or in Wikipedia pages. Someone dispersed everywhere beige papers of the local news. Beige, beige, beige, beige, dark brown, beige, beige. That spot of brown was the horse s**t in the middle of the road. Noblemen and peasants scurried along the streets, selling, buying, socializing, or drafting themselves into the revolution. The future soldiers looked terrified; obviously ready to die.

As a Brit, I feel a brief twinge of guilt looking at how much my ancestors did to these Americans, but, oh well, it's history. I can't reverse it or change it. I'm a time traveler, not a Calendar. THEY do the reversing and changing. I do this for fun and for the thrill, not because it's my job. In fact, my exact job is to sit still and look pretty.

'Don't worry, Americans,' I thought, tapping Exuvius' hand and making a gesture to a nearby bar. 'It's 1780, right? Hang in there for a few more years.'

We'd decided earlier to talk somewhere where it's loud and slightly bustling with activity like the streets, but not too open, like a room or something. A bar, much like the one we met at, was the perfect solution. To prepare for the crazy situational comedy we've gotten ourselves into, we had to settle a few things.

"Hey." The sound of Exuvius's voice interrupted my thoughts. Outside, a noisy carriage passes a nearby window. The clopping of the horses' hooves slowly faded back into the incoherent chatter of people. I shook my head and bit my cheek. "Mm?"

"You alright? You zoned out..."

"I'm good," I mutter, propping up my elbow on the round wooden table we sat by. The bar we ended up in was filled to the brim with the scent of alcohol and drunk men. I shivered uneasily.

"Let's start with the basics," I say, keeping my voice down low and looking at my side of the table. "Like... why the f**k did you save me back there?"

I hesitated a bit, not knowing what to ask for a second. It was apparent he didn't care what happened to me, but it seemed he had a reason. That's the number 1 thing I've got to figure out. The next thing on today's agenda is to ask him what shampoo he uses to get his long hair so soft n' silky.

"Well... you clearly needed help," He crosses his arms and raises an eyebrow. "I gave you that help."

He's using my capture as an excuse not to talk about the real reason, I see. Too bad I can smell lies from a mile away. It was a talent that only my sister could recognize.

"Well, now you're stuck with me until my time traveling machine's all charged up again. We might not get back immediately, you know?"

That made him purse his lips together into a frown, obviously troubled by my statement. "What?" He uttered as if I had killed his whole family. If he even has one. "You know that I have a job—"

"Relax, relax! When we can, I can take us back to the exact moment we disappeared, so don't fret."

Rule #2—The Pen can only take the traveler/s to and from the present that they came from. Even if they've traveled from one past to another, it will take them back to the exact moment they "disappeared"

e.g. if someone who lived in the 21st century were to leave it for the 19th century, they will go back to the exact moment in the 21st century that they disappeared; The Pen knows whether or not your timeline is yours.

"... excuse me?"

"Yeah, how The Pen works is a bit complicated, sorry. There's a bunch o' rules in the handbook but I'm not going to dwell into all that just yet. I got to wait for it to charge, though. We could die if it isn't charged up properly. And I don't think The Pen cares if you're immortal."

Ah, the look of plain, utter shock-confusion. I take it it was disbelief? Kind of like that look you give your science homework that was supposed to be turned in 4days ago. Or the look you give the Internet when you find out about s****l i*********e being an important factor in your birth. Exuvius gave me that look and he OWNED it. However, it vanished in a moment, and, in its place, a scowl formed.

"I already told you, I'm immortal, but not invincible. I have high stats but I can still be killed." He chided, putting stress on "killed". As if he was constantly expecting to be offed, but never got it.

"Aaaand what if I cut your finger?"

"It would heal in an instant."

I raised an eyebrow curiously. "Instant, you say?" I said, taking out a tiny knife from my sleeve. When I say 'tiny', I mean tiny. Really, really tiny. The blade was about 2 inches and I'd intended to hide it in my boot, but I saw this coming. I get to stab him! Yay!

"Give me your hand."

Exuvius snorted, putting his hand in front of me. "What is this, Aladdin?"

"Depends... Do you trust me?" I grinned cheekily, taking his hand in mine and pressing the blade against the dark skin of his index finger. Fresh blood spilled out of the minor wound I made, staining the cloth of my coat. Exuvius didn't seem to flinch or budge at all. I furrowed my eyebrows as I watched the wound heal itself in a matter of seconds. No f*****g way. I thought, staring in awe at the healed tissue. No marks whatsoever, just the wavy lines of his fingerprint. Now that's cool.

I waved his hand around, checking to see if he would change color or shape-shift, too. He let his hand go limp, letting me move it around for my own satisfaction. That wasn't even an innuendo. "What the hell, Exuvius..." I murmured, putting his hand back down, feeling embarrassed that I acted that way. What? I still have my pride and ego. I can't just chuck it out the window like a bad idea.

Exuvius runs his thumb across the spot I punctured. "Yeah, it does that. It was a small one, so it disappeared within seconds." "Um... Excuse me?"

The owner of a timid male voice interrupted our little "bonding moment". The bartender, a little man with freckles splashing his face, stood by our table, holding a bunch of empty beer mugs. "That man over there wanted me to tell you something." He said, glancing towards a dark area under the stairs of the bar. "He said he wanted to give you a 'head start'?"

How typical. There was a figure underneath the stairs, in, you guessed it, all black. Like an antagonist from a DC comic, with the black gloves, black cloak, black boots, gray hat (You had one job and that was to stick to the color code, antagonist.). What stood out the most was the reddish tattoo on his neck beneath his unkempt cravat.

The tattoo was a triquetra. It was the symbol of a Calendar.