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GᖇᗩᑎITE GᑌᗩᖇᗪIᗩᑎ ꔊꔊꔊ 𝕓𝕦𝕟𝕟𝕪 𝕩 𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕚𝕟𝕖 ꔊꔊꔊ

Bunny

𝓭𝒆𝓵𝓲𝓬𝓪𝓽𝒆 ᵃᶰᵈ 𝖛𝖎𝖔𝖑𝖊𝖓𝖙
Staff member
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Jan 8, 2020
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Watching the sun slowly sink beyond the skyline, she shifted, feeling restless. This was not new for Mallory. She had everything she could ever want. Have a craving or a desire, just let her father know and she'd have it within hours. Anything, but freedom. While she wasn't privy to the gritty details, Mallory had once been told in broad strokes why she was being cloistered like a nun in the fancy penthouse. It had occurred after a scare, someone who had tried to kill her. At the time, he'd promised it would only be for a few weeks.. but a few weeks turned to months and then years. Blue eyes were glazed over as she watched the city lights now illuminate her view. Delicate fingers raked through her lustrous black locks, sending them tumbling down her shoulders and back as she paced. She was sixteen and it was hard enough to keep a sixteen year-old girl still normally, but tell her she couldn't do something? It was all she wanted to do. There had been many attempts to escape, none of which had been successful. Padding across the hard wood floors she pressed a hand to the doorknob, her eyes shifting to Westly. The strong lines of his stone body were haloed in dim lights from below. Westly was her only friend, perhaps a sad state of affairs, for he was a gargoyle.

It had never bothered her though, that he didn't answer back. He would listen to her for hours, a steady, comforting presence. Westly, so named for the Dread Pirate Roberts, from The Princess Bride, was told all her dreams, her fears, her pain, her sorrow and ultimately of her loneliness. It wasn't that Mallory didn't see others, but those she did see were carefully screened by her father and his people. From her maids, to her tutors. No one was allowed access to her without being thoroughly searched and investigated and while some too took pity on her, most kept their distance. Even her father kept his distance, if only to protect her from his enemies. Her birthday, just a few hours before, had been celebrated with a lavish dinner. a cupcake and wonderful presents and her father's face on a screen. She'd dressed for the occasion, because this year he had promised to attend in person. It was her sweet sixteen after all...

Pushing the door open she felt a rush of cool air against her skin. Shivering slightly she padded toward Westly, her stocking feet catching only a little on the stone of her balcony. Her delicate, white and pink dress swayed in the wind as it curled around her legs, covered by cream thigh high socks. The wealth of dark hair fell into her face as she leaned against the railing, shifting so her body was pressed to his strong side.
"You'd have lost the bet, Westly." Her voice was soft as she stared out into the glittering city. "He decided it was too risky, and we did what we did last year." There was a sadness that permeated her voice, tangible, that sorrow. "Dinner and cake alone, presents too." She lifted her wrist, as if showing him; a thin golden bracelet studded with diamonds and rubies twinkling in the lights from within the penthouse. "Pretty, isn't it?" It was, really it was, but it hadn't been something she'd wished for. Her arm fell and her fingers played in the currant of the air, the slender digits twirling within the wind. "I know I shouldn't have gotten my hopes up, but I couldn't help it. I trust him, every time he makes a promise, hoping this time will be different." She snorted, the sound derisive and unamused. "The very definition of insanity." Her eyes closed and her laid her cheek against the strong bicep of Westly, letting the cold leech into her skin, where she rested, the stone of his arm grew warm from her own heat. She rested like that for a while, until she was trembling from the cold. Slowly she pulled back. "Oh! I forgot, I saved you a cupcake. I will be right back"

She often left Westly treats; cookies, cakes... you name it. While she knew he wasn't the one eating them, they did vanish each night. Crumbs the only remnant of her little acts of friendship. Birds, or perhaps mice.. but it comforted her to think it was Westly eating the treats she left him. Mallory's love language was giving gifts. Turning she walked back inside, leaving the door open. In her wake the scent of her perfume lingered, the warmth of sandalwood and Oud. Coming back she held a simple, yet decadent looking cupcake. The rich chocolate cake topped with a thick, fluffy chocolate buttercream. A drizzle of dark chocolate and a black and white tuile on top. She set it beside his knee, before stepping up onto the railing so she could press a soft kiss to his cheek. "Thank you for being my friend, Westly. I don't really know what I would do without you..."


**――――****――――****――――****――――**

Little did Mallory know that there was reason for concern when it came to her safety. Her father had not shared them with her, thinking to spare her the worry. Perhaps had she known, she might have noticed the little drone hovering above her as she left the cupcake for Westly. Perhaps she wouldn't have changed into her nightgown before the window of her bedroom, normally unafraid of anyone being able to see her. She might have slept lighter, listening for sounds of people breaking in. There were so many perhaps, mights and maybes had she been aware. Sometimes keeping people in the dark is not what is best for them. So when dark clad men repelled down onto her balcony, Mallory was fast asleep. The soft breaking of glass and the crunch of boots along it lost to her as she dreamed. Alone, unarmed with her guards dead, Mallory was very much in danger. Shifting in her sleep, she rolled to her back, her dark ahir spilling over the emerald of her sheets, causing the advancing men to pause.
 
He didn't have a name, or if he did he didn't know it. Whether he had known it in the past or not he couldn't have said, it had been so long. Darkness, nothingness...that was what it was like when one rested for centuries at a time...days and weeks, months and years they all passed in the blink of an eye so if he'd had a name surely he would have remembered it, right? But no...his past lives were hazy, as though they didn't matter anymore and what did matter was what was going on around him now. He never slept anymore, not truly, there was no darkness, no real rest, it was something else entirely when they daylight hit him and his body hardened once more. Limbs became rigid, his vibrant eyes dulled, he was exactly what the humans saw. A statue. A gargoyle. No more, no less, trapped in the lifeless body, a lonely existence but one that didn't displease him...perhaps because of who he was, how he had been created it didn't get to him like such solitude might get to another, he was born for it, he was even happy with it. There was only one person that truly made him regret such a life.

Mallory. How long had she been here now, in this apartment, his only companion? It had to have been 3 or 4 years. He could recall with perfect clarity the first time she had stepped onto that balcony, a child that was far less suited for the solitude that was the gargoyle's existence and looking for a friend. She'd found him...8 feet tall, though appearing shorter in his crouched position as he watched over the city from the balcony of the penthouse suite. Most of the inhabitants had ignored his presence, only speaking of him to say how ugly he was, an eyesore on the building, there had even been talks of removing him but the magic that kept him alive protected him in, drove the thoughts from their minds the moment they took their eyes off him and so he had persisted as people had come and gone, until Mallory had arrived. She talked to him every day while he remained perfectly still, unblinking, silent. She told him all her thoughts, all her troubles, she treated him like he was a friend and as her words echoed into his mind even in his stone, statue form he remembered all of it. She had even given him a name, Westly, after a character in a movie she had enjoyed. She left him treats, cakes, biscuits, sandwiches...and it was when she was asleep that he availed himself of them. Strictly speaking he didn't need to eat, he was a living being and he was...not. It didn't matter, to him these were gifts from his favourite person, the only one that really spoke to him, so when he was sure she slept he allowed himself control of his body, he took the food, he stretched his wings and watched her sleep. He'd done this for several years, he shared in her pain as she grew, the neglect from her overprotective father, the disappointment when he didn't show for her birthday and he had hoped that today would be different and yet when he'd felt her rest her head against the granite of his own, heard her voice echo in his mind, he already knew what was coming. The sadness hit him in waves...he wanted to leave the prison of stone and hold her, tell her that she still had him but mystical protections stopped him, he couldn't reveal himself, it was forbidden...he didn't know why, he didn't know whom had forbidden it nor the consequences but he knew that he could not and it broke his heart to hear her suffer.

He willed her to feel better, not that it did any good, and he was still aching inside as she left him alone with his treat, a single cupcake from her birthday. Silence again, as she went to sleep and he was about to reach for the cupcake when he heard another noise, a scratching on the roof above them. While not being able to see them without turning his head he heard the men land down on the balcony, heard them quietly break the glass. She'd told him of her father's worries...he'd made enemies, enemies that would want to hurt her and had locked her away for safety. Days had turned to weeks, longer, she had supposed to have been able to resume her normal life by now but her father hadn't subdued those that wished him ill and in his paranoia had refused to allow Mallory back into the world. As it seemed, the paranoia wasn't completely unjustified...there was no doubt that Mallory was about to be hurt. Kidnapped, maybe even killed...the gargoyle thought of the sweet, dark haired girl who had kept him company. He knew what he had to do...he had to stay silent, unmoving as a terrible fate befell the only person he had ever felt connected to. Whatever cruel being had driven these rules into his mind had done a fantastic job, they were impossible to fight against...almost impossible...maybe...and yet he couldn't do it. It took a gargantuan effort to fight against his nature, to force aside the powerful pull that told him to remain silent but he just couldn't do it, he couldn't just let something happen to her, he wouldn't allow the laws of his existence to let this poor girl die.

His skin lightened, still grey, still hard but also softer as he took a more malleable form, his granite loincloth becoming fabric as the rest of him was filled with warmth that an ordinary granite body would not possess, not the hard coldness he normally was. While his flesh now still had the appearance of stone there was a...give...to it, a springiness, somehow hard yet supple and smooth at the same time. Heavy footfalls were the first thing the intruders knew as he stepped down from the corner of the corner pillar, a pedestal made for him to watch over the city from. He didn't need words, and they didn't deserve them as he stretched his wings, a menacing look in his vibrant, almost glowing green eyes that reflected even the smallest fraction of light. Rising to his full height he didn't give them warning as he stepped forward, walking through an unbroken pane of glass. His long, agile tail lashed out, sending two of the five intruders flying across the room as though they'd been hit by a 2 tonne wrecking ball and slammed into the wall, the impact killing them instantly. The other three forgot their target in her bed and turned to him, eyes wide with fear as they pulled out weapons from holsters and opened fire. The bullets sank into his flesh barely a fraction of a millimetre, flattening and harmlessly falling down...they felt to him like fingers gently drumming against his chest. A hand reached out, grabbing one around the throat, fingers on the back of the man's neck squeezing...a crack rang out through the room. The other two lost their nerve, already terrified, and they fled back out of the window they had come in through. The gargoyle gave chase, stomping towards them with footfalls heavy enough to shake the room and lashed out with his hand, launching one man over the railing, screaming, his arms flailing as his companion climbed back up onto the roof. Looking back down, the man scrambled up higher towards a rope ladder dangling from a helicopter, grabbing onto it, hanging from it as the helicopter started to fly away. Anger in his eyes, the gargoyle stretched his wings, his gaze firmly set on his target, bending his knees ready to take flight.
 
The breaking of glass hadn't woken her, the muffled sound eaten by the sweetness of her dreams. The first death made her turn in her sleep, her dark hair a stain of color along her pillows. A small hand moved closer to her mouth, a soft sound of distress as she slept on. Mallory often slept like the dead, so this wasn't unusual. The vibrations of the bodies hitting walls, glass doors all missed. It was the sound of the gunfire though that drew her groggily from sleep. Rolling to her back, rubbing at her eyes she yawned. The sound had stopped for a moment and she was letting her eyes fall closed again as the room trembled. Pushing herself to sit up she looked around the darkened room. She couldn't see anything amiss from her bed. Crawling to the edge, she put her feet on the wooden floors. Cool beneath her feet she looked toward the open doorway. Mallory tilted her head to the side, confused. Hadn't she closed that?

Movement on the balcony caught her eyes and she turned towards the window and gasped. A male figure stood on her balcony, large wings spreading from his back. Gasping, she backed away, fear licking up her spine before her foot slid in a pool of something cool and wet. Her balance was precarious as she tumbled over something on the floor. Mallory landed hard and she gave a cry of surprise as she'd fallen and a sound of pain upon landing. Blue eyes scrunched up in pain and she muttered softly and looked to see what exactly she'd tripped over. The form in the darkness was a black lump.. but the pale skin around the eyes gave away that it had been a human. Shaking her head she scrambled away from the supine figure, her foot slipping along the floor still, though slowly becoming tacky. It was about then that it dawned on Mallory what it was on her foot. Trembling she tried to not scream, as she backed to the wall, where her hands found the prostate bodies laying there, it was then she screamed.

The panic that had been building escaped her in that scream. It was a panicked, sharp sound that reverberated back to her, and out the shattered window. As her eyes had slowly adjusted and it felt like anywhere they landed there was a body or dark stain along her floors. Quaking she crawled away from the bodies, slowly cornering herself, eyes showing far too much white as she looked around. The man on her balcony long forgotten, the crunch of glass made her head snap up and she shook her head quickly, a whimper leaving her throat. Her eyes found the source of the noise and she froze. Tall, too tall.. Trembling, she pressed her back firmly into the wall, her bare foot coated in blood sticking to the floor now.
"Please, don't hurt me.." Her father had always told her this was to keep her safe, she'd trusted it, but without the littering of bodies around her, she'd never put enough stock into the words. This was an eye opening reality check. There had been guards, but if they'd not come in, were they dead? Had they betrayed her father... her?
 
Spreading his wings, the gargoyle had eyes only for his target, the last of the assassins that had tried to take Mallory from him. What he was doing was wrong, he could feel it inside himself, the pull still trying to force him to take his place and remain silent, remain still, but it was weaker now, he could overcome it. Even from this distance he could see the panic on the man's face as he looked down at the gargoyle, he could see the confusion on the face of the pilot who no doubt was wondering why everything was going so wrong. They were both just seconds away from death...the gargoyle was around eight feet tall, he weighed as though he was made of pure stone but he could still move quickly...if he barrelled into the helicopter at his top speed there was little doubt it would be mangled beyond repair, it would fall to the streets below. People would die, not just those inside it but he didn't care, there was only one human being whose safety concerned him, and she was still safe in bed, sleeping.

Until she woke.

His focus had been entirely on the assassins and not on Mallory herself, once he'd ensured she was safe he had moved on to eradicating them but he heard her voice even over the racket made by the rotating blades keeping the helicopter aloft. He paused just long enough for the assassin to get onto the ladder and for the copter to start flying away...he could still chase them but the panic in Mallory's voice, the fear, it was too distracting. Had he left one alive inside? Was she in danger? Slowly he rose to his full height again, no longer poised to take flight and his head turned slowly as he looked into the room, her bedroom. She was scared, he could see her now, still beautiful even amidst all the death in the room, pressed against the wall, he could hear her heart racing, his hearing supernatural. She wasn't looking at the bodies as she asked not to hurt her, there were no men alive in there, only one thing was left that could scare her, that made her feel threatened.

It was him.

His wings folded along his back as he started to move towards her, every footfall sounding exactly like you might imagine from an eight foot, two ton monster. Heavy, slow, he ducked into the room and walked through the blood that was already starting to congeal on the floor, his tail dragging along the floor behind him until he was right in front of her. Reaching down for her, he grabbed her by the waist with both his hands, surprisingly gentle, his stony hands having turned soft and supple now that he was moving. He lifted her up so that she was level with him, one arm moving around her legs to support her so that she was at face height with him and he looked at her. His face, his flesh, it was all still that strange, supple and stony composition but his eyes were a warm, gentle green that caught the light from the moon as they met hers.
"Mallory..." He didn't know what to say...he could speak, technically, he could make the sounds, his voice deep and gravelly, but he had never had a conversation before, he didn't know how to really speak to a person let alone a frightened girl. Seeing the bodies all around them, he walked towards the balcony with her, it was where he'd spent all of his time with her anyway, he never moved from there and it was more comfortable for him while also being away from the carnage. In the distance, he looked towards the retreating helicopter. He still wanted to go after it, he still could but he had more important things to consider now. Still holding her, he lowered himself to one knee so he could place her back down on the balcony, as gently as he'd been when he lifted her. Reaching down he picked up the plate, still untouched through the chaos and lifted it up to her, the chocolate cake still on it. "Eat. Feel better."
 
The giant form was shadowed in the lights from the city behind him. They gave him a halo and she rubbed at her eyes as if to clear them. Had she seen wings? People didn't have wings.. Small fists slowly lowered and as she looked up again, the wings were gone, though there was a tail now. Dream? This was a dream! She was trying to convince herself of that as he loomed over her. She'd not screamed though, still frightened, she trembled. The hands that moved to her waist were gentle though, they didn't hurt her as they pulled her up. Cradled her against his chest and she frowned a little. She didn't expect the bad guys to be so gentle with her. That face.. Her lips parted and Mallory shifted in his arms slightly. He seemed like her gargoyle, though not cold and while his skin seemed harder it still had a suppleness to it that was pleasing. The eyes that her own met were a glowing green, but kind and the fear that had made her body ridged slowly faded. Softening against him she tilted her head as her name left his lips. A gravely sound, deep but just as gentle.

They'd been walking, that had been almost missed as she had examined his face. Her suspicions were answered as she was placed on the balcony. Her bare feet touched the cold stone and she looked to where Westly normally stood guard. The plate was offered and she took it, but she placed it on the railing as she turned back to him. The breeze of the night caught her dress in the wind, twirling it about her legs as she studied his face.
"Westly?" Unsure she shifted and moved past him a few steps. A chair was pulled toward him and she climbed up on it, so she could be closer to his face. A small hand reached out and touched his cheek.

There was little doubt in Mallory's mind that this was her Westly. How, she knew not and on some level Mallory knew she should be scared. her friend, the one she told everything. The one she shared her joys and sadness with; her sweets with. She could hear the beat of the helicopter and she turned to look at the fading dark shape with a frown. A hand on his shoulder she looked past him back into the house.
"Did you do that?" She nodded past him before looking back up into his face. "Protect me?" Her voice was small and her eyes shone with tears. So weird and yet it didn't scare her. He'd saved her from something horrible.. Her feet were sticky, she could feel them stick to the chair. Shivering she shifted closer to him. Arms slipped around his waist and her head fell to his chest. "Thank you..."
 
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