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Society of Espers
Author's note: I hope you enjoy it. Tell me whats good/bad so I can fix it.
Sven walked into his small, dingy apartment, knowing no one was there to greet him. He was walking into the kitchen to grab dinner when the phone rang. He grabbed it off the wall and held it between his ear and his shoulder as he searched the fridge. “I don’t apologize, but I can’t come to the phone right now, please leave a message after the beep… BEEP!” “Oh, very funny Sven. We have something to do, so we’ve got to meet up soon.” Came the light voice on the other end. Sven smiled lightly, “Of course, Great Dasha, I am at your connivance.” His voice dripping with Sarcasm, “What does Your Greatness have planned?” He grabbed a coke from the fridge and slid into his worn arm chair. There was a heavy sigh, “Sven, you’re kind of a d****e.” Then her voice went all sing-songy, “There’s money involved.” In an instant a wolfish grin a wolfish grin appeared on his face on his pale face. “Tsk. Tsk. Why didn’t you say so in the first place? That changes everything… for the right price that is.” He chuckled, “And if you picked it, then it had better pay a lot. Because you always seem to pick a job that is less work for you… which means more work for me.” The accusation in his voice lightened by his teasing tone. “Oh, yes. Sooooo much less work for me. Then NO problem, I’ll take the job and the money for myself.” The blonde’s smirk was audible in her voice. “No problem.” She repeated, chuckling. His smile widened even more, “Of course, of course, you could…,” he said jokingly, “But you won’t. Because then I would starve to death, and you would be charged with murder.” He was trying not to laugh, but not entirely succeeding. “They wouldn’t be able to catch me~! If I REALLY wanted you dead, I’d be able to kill you and I’d never be caught. And you~ know it.” Dasha giggled. “Does that make you nervous~?” Sven sighed, overly dramatic, “Terrified. But if you are gonna kill me; can you wait until after dinner? I would simply HATE to die on an empty stomach! Which means you should treat me to a meal, otherwise you’ll have to find a new partner in crime.” His stomach growled loudly. “Oh, as if I know you’re just housing a lion.” She laughed again, “Alright. Pizza at Cecilia’s Diner sound okay? I’ll throw in a smoothie, ‘cause this next assignment is just… wow.” He groaned, “Please tell me it’s not like last time, I almost got shot…Can we get the Meat Attack Ex-large? Ooh!”, he continued excitedly, “and extra CHEESE!” He was already up and scrambling for his keys, “Want me to pick you up?” “Oh, come on. I’ll get you a small. You know I’m a vegetarian. And yes please~ I’ll give you five minutes-any longer and the sodas are on you.” “NO fair! You live 10 minutes away even with my reckless driving!” He laughed, Finding his car keys under a pile of mail, “See ya soon!” He hung up the phone and left his apartment, locking the door. He ran down the wobbly stairs that led to his crappy apartment. Opening his car door and sliding in, he started the car. Sven LOVED his car. It looked like someone had beaten it with a sledge hammer and dumped acid on it. It was ugly with a capital U, but it could run. He turned down the street to the main drag that headed toward where Dasha lived. ---------------------------------- Dash sighed and grabbed her coat before flopping into the chair by the front door. She flipped though the manila file containing the details for the next assignment. “God this one’s a doozy. I’ll have to see Will about this one.” A car horn honked impatiently from outside and Dasha threw her coat on, running out and jumping in the car. “That was… 7 and 3 quarter minutes. You~ my good sir, owe me a soda.” The blonde smirked and glanced over at Sven before hitting him amiably on the shoulder. “So what’s up with you, dude? You never call anymore.” Sven shrugged, his dark hair falling over his bright green eyes. “I’ve been busy… work, class, and… well…” he trailed off, unsure of how to tell her that the nightmares he was positive were gone forever, were back and worse than ever. That his chance at normality seemed to be flying out the window. Dasha narrowed her eyes at the boy, not believing he was telling her the whole truth. “Brat,” she didn’t want to force Sven into something he didn’t want to talk about. “Ah! Left here.” She reminded him. He turned pulling carefully into the packed parking lot. Backing his car in to an empty spot, far away from the other cars, he shut off the car and climbed out. He moaned and walked around to Dasha’s door, forcing it open, “I really need to fix this door…” he smirked, knowing she knew he never would. Holding open her door, he sniffed the air, “Ah… The sweet smell of food!” “Why think you, kind sir. And it smells like dead pig.” She replied cynically. “Yes… dead pig that’s been deep fried and smothered in cheese. All on a doughy crust!” Sven responded in a loving tone. He pulled open the diner’s glass door, “Now let us enjoy a meal while discussing your diabolical plans.” “That’s Disgusti-Wait. MY diabolical plans? OUR diabolical plans.” With a glare at him she walks up to the counter. “One small meat pizza and a personal veggie. Drinks are an a separate bill, but two cokes- one zero, one reg.” He pulled out his ratty wallet and set a five dollar bill on the counter. “No, YOUR plans are diabolical; I just come up with the means to complete them.” He grabs the sodas off the counter and walks toward a table. “Window seat?” “And that makes you my minion, does it not?” She laughed, “Yeah, thanks.” Dasha sat down at the booth and looked at Sven seriously. “I… think we might need to contact William for supplies.” Sven shivered, he did not like William and William did not like him. They had what you could call a Hate-Hate relationship. “Do we have to?” He paused to take a long sip of his soda, “I mean, you do realize that we nearly always attempt to kill each other?” He glanced at her, his green eyes glowing as the fluorescent light reflected against them. “Well, then I’ll just go by myself.” She pouted. “You just need to take me to and from. Wolly LIKES me~ HE’s our supply guy, though and he’s really nice. I don’t get why you two can’t get along.” Sven shook his head, “Not happening. I am not leaving you alone with that sadistic pervert.” His attention temporarily displaced by the food the waitress was placing on the table. He grabs a slice of pizza, burning his mouth, “I’ll go but I won’t enjoy it.” He mumbles though the food. “Tsk! He’s not a sadistic pervert! You’re just jealous because he threatens your manly man masculinity.” She teased. “And you SHOULD be threatened.” She grinned before laughing loudly, taking a bite out of her pizza. Sven glares at her, “He does not. Besides he doesn’t have enough masculinity to threaten mine,” He smirked, “All he does is tinker with that toy robot of his.” He tore into his third piece of pizza, mumbling something about robot girlfriends and sadistic perverts. “Tsk. I find his intelligence VERY masculine, and you don’t have any of that, so he totally threatens you. Besides if will is making a robot girlfriend,” She took a second bite and swallowed, “It’s only because you commissioned him to. Will’s hot; he doesn’t need to make one.” She smirks over at Sven, knowing she was pushing his buttons. Sven leaned back on to the sticky vinyl seat, raising one eyebrow sarcastically, “If he is so ‘hot’, then why isn’t he eating one of those rabbit pizza with you?” He waves a hand at her food, “Hmm?” He was trying not to fall into her trap but he hated the mere idea of Will and Dasha alone… not that he would ever admit it. “But you have one thing in common, you both eat remarkable slow.” Glancing from her barely touched pizza to his half eaten one. “Because he~ is busy. And it’s not my fault we can’t all INHALE our food like you do. Our slow eating… just brings us closer together in the end.” Dasha finished off the pizza part of her slice and throws the crust at Sven, “There, eat the burnt bread.” Sven pantomimes a begging dog, catching it in his mouth. “Wufh. Wufh.” He mumbles though the bread. “Pfft. Good Boy.” She reaches across the table and ruffles his raven hair. He grins, “As Anne would say, ‘all men are dogs at heart.” He chews on the crust, “Now when do we meet Will so I can bite him?” He grins, tugging off a piece of crust. “Umm…” She pulls out her phone, “Let me text him, and ask.” Her thumb flying across the key board, she quickly typed a message. “Don’t tell him I’m coming!” Sven said, “It’ll be a nice surprise!” He grinned wickedly. He has just finished his last slice of pizza and considered the safety of stealing some of Dasha’s. “B’awww, too late! It’s sent.” She smirked at him. Sven just looked at her contemplatively, having just finished considering the pros and cons of stealing part of Dasha’a pizza. His eyes widened and he points over her shoulder, “Well speak of the sadistic pervert and he shall appear.” Then as she turned to look he went to grab a slice, but was stopped by a hand on his wrist. “You really think I don’t know you better than that?” She scoffed. “I’m hurt!” Sven tilted his head in mock confusion, “Hurt? What did I do?” He fought the smirk that was forming on the edge of his mouth. “You either think I’m stupid or don’t know you well enough to know you were going to steal my “rabbit pizza” when I turned around. I know you, Sven Alek Bublava, and everything about you. Don’t think you can fool me.” Sven openly pouted, “You could at least PRETEND you didn’t notice.” He suddenly grinned, “If I recall there was a promise of smoothies?” He reached for the crust of a pizza she had finished. “But that’d satisfy your ego.”She stated matter-of-factly. “Right, right.” She sighed, “Rita’s is closer, but Roboks is better. Which one would you like, Oh master who eats a lot?” “ROBOKS!” Sven crowed, drawing attention and glares from the other customers. “What? I like smoothies.” He looked around, feigning innocence and confusion, a silly grin on his face. “God you’re obnoxious.” Dasha gave Sven a sly look, “I’d never have this problem with Willy-will~” Attempting to make it sound romantic. Sven’s eyes widened, “Don’t tell me you…” He choked on an imaginary sob, “don’t tell me you like him more than me?” He puts his hand on his forehead and dramatically swoons onto the bench. Popping back up, he looks at her seriously, “So what’s the deal with this job?” His voice steady and business like, “What will we need to do?” “Well… you won’t like this, but the Society called- We’ve been disappearing and Our traces have been taken off, so none of Us know where We are.” Sven eyes flashed an ice blue for a moment, “Do We have any clues?” He asked, his voice tense. “That’s the sticky part. There are two leads, so… we’re going to have to locate another Pair. Which is one of the reasons we need William.” He ran a hand though his hair, giving it an even more bed-head look. “So I guess I should call Anna? She has knack for finding the hidden.” Stretching his hands over his head, he got up, “Let’s go Will…” “Yay! I love Annie-anne~!” Dasha got up, following Sven out the door.
“Willy~! It’s been so long~!” Dasha crooned, running toward the tallest male and wrapping her arms around him.
“Dasha~! You’ve gotten pretter.” Dasha frowns and hits him playfully,
“Quite, you!” Dasha exclaims playfully. Sven stands by the door, noisily slurping his smoothie, “Not so good to see you, Willy the Sadistic Pervert~” He croons, his eyes a cold green, like the middle of the ocean. He leaned against the frame of the door, his stance tense and agitated, ever wary around strangers.
Dasha shoots him a glare, “Oh, hush. You need to learn to be nicer.” He smiled mockingly in return,
“Be nice to a dog and it keeps coming back for more.” He kicked an empty soda can in their direction, not looking her in the eye.
Rolling her eyes, Dasha turned to Will, “Ignoring the buffoon in the corner, we need-“ Will cut her off,
“Yeah, I know. The disappearances, right? I got most of the stuff you need.” He calls to one of the men in the room, “Tom, can you get Dasha the stuff I put a side?” With a quick nod, the guy hurried off. Dasha grinned,
“How did you know?” She asked, glancing up at him. Sven glared at him,
“He’s a freakin’ spy for the Society. I always knew it…” He paused smirking, “but now I have proof!” Completely ignoring Sven, Will smiles down at Dasha, “The Society gave me a call; they let me know everything you guys do. Which is nice because then Mr. Grump over there doesn’t have to stay long. Sadly that also means that you have to leave so soon.” He pats her head, ruffling her hair. Dasha smiles happily,
“We should go for lunch some ti-” She is cut off by Sven, “Do you have what we need or not?” He snapped. Will sighed,
“Spoil sport… I have everything else you might need in back. Come on.” He unlocks a tall metal door in the back off the room, “You don’t have to come if you don’t want to, Svenny~” Sven just glared at him, taking a step forward. He hesitated near the door glancing outside.
“I’ll wait by the door…” He said coldly, stepping backward. He hated closed rooms, anywhere he couldn’t escape. With a glance at Dasha he turned toward the door, “Make sure there isn’t too much, my car isn’t that big.” Dasha looked up at will, who shook his head.
This is… I think that heavy stuff could get inconvenient for this issue…” She thought for a moment, “Can we have the gadget pens and stuff? There fun to use.” Sven stopped walking and turned around, his eyebrow raised,
“Really, Dasha?” He rolls his eyes.” Just give us the usual, heat sensor goggles and a couple of dart guns…” He looked at Dasha, “Anything else?” Will dramatically held up a hand in a stopping motion,
“No,no. I’ve have just the thing for you. Even Sven will like it. Well… more like multiple its… but that’s not the point. They’re both pens,” he grins at Dasha, “One’s a paralyzer and the others a T.S.-truth serum! Now, it sounds lame, but it’s not like the movies, you have to as-“ Sven cuts in,
“Yes or no question, right?”
Will nods, “Right. Anyway, sleep or poison for the darts?” Dasha twisted a strand of her blond hair around her finger,
“Now, you should know better than that- sleep of course.” Sven grimaced,
“Pack a couple of poison. If someone’s managing to take Us unaware… then sleep darts aren’t always gonna cut it. Plus if it’s m-” Sven cleared his throat, “I mean, the same people as ten years ago…” His green eyes clouded with some unreadable emotion, “We are going to need to be prepared.” He cleared his throat again, an attempt at getting rid of any emotion in his voice. With a concerned glance at Sven, Dasha nodded,
“For sure.” She paused, something hitting her, “Wait. Did he say GOGGLES? Dude, goggles? Will, I want purple heat sensing CONTACTS.” Sven moaned openly. “Fine, when you lose them don’t come complaining to me.” He looked coldly at Will, “Give is two sets of contacts and some non-descript glasses.” He glanced at Dasha, “Happy? Good.” He looked down, “Great, now my smoothie melted!”
“It’s ‘cause you’re so hot headed!” She smirked, “Poor~ Poor~ Smoothie~” She sang playfully. Will looked back and forth between them, a bemused smile on his face,
“Wellllll~ if you guys are going to have a lover’s spat then I’m going to go get your stuff.” He slipped into the back room, giving them no time to respond. Sven glared after him, then looked at Dasha.
“You don’t think it really could be them do you…” He asked quietly, rubbing his palms against his black jeans. Dasha looked at him seriously, her eyes hardening.
“Trust me, Sven. I poured over those files last night and it’s not there style. I think that whoever’s doing these files last night and it doesn’t fit their style. I think whoever is doing this is doing it for something, not out of malintent. There collecting Us for something.” He nodded, his eyes unsure,
“I guess we should head to Anna’s place, she’s the best seer we have.” He grinned suddenly, “Plus she likes me, which means she will have snacks!” Dasha grinned too,
“The best type too! Home-made~” Sven grinned even wider,
“Milk and cookies~ Milk and cookies~ All day long~” He sang, stepping out into the fading light of evening. He pulled open his car door and slid into the driver’s seat, leaving Dasha to get the stuff. He glanced back and saw a cardboard box, with the word “Fragile” stamped on it, on his seat, apparently someone had already put the other stuff in.
After backing his car into the deserted driveway, Sven turned off the engine. He jumped out of the car and took the few porch steps in one leap. Not even bothering to knock before opening the door and stepping into the room. “Anne~” he called, and then ducked suddenly, a broom flying over his head from behind. He turned and smiled widely, hugging the woman who stood behind him tightly, then stepping back. “Now why did you try and decapitate me with a broom?” He pouted. The 40-ish woman just shook her head, her grey streaked, waist length, blond hair swinging with the movement.
“Sven, I told you to call before you pop up.” She smirked, no malice in her voice, “Well, I know you didn’t come here to scare me to death, which means you came for food or you actually need my services.” Her gray-blue eyes sparkled mischievously, “Do also plan on eating, Dasha?” She called, her lilting tone rising, walking toward the kitchen. Sven blinked, looking around, he had completely forgotten about Dasha.
Dasha slowly walked into the room, glancing around the room suspiciously, then grinned at Anne. “Sure. Any traps today? Or can I relax?” The older woman eyes sparkled dangerously, a grin on her small face.
“You’ll be fine as long as you stay in here or the kitchen… anywhere else and you find yourself in a spot of trouble.” She laughed, setting a pitcher of milk and a large plate of scones on an old looking coffee table. She tossed each of them a mug, Sven ducked letting it bounce off the couch, glaring spitefully at the pitcher of milk. Dasha caught her cup neatly in her hand and sat next to Sven, setting both mugs on the table. Grinning she filled both mugs with milk, causing Sven to recoil away from the cup as he snatched a warm scone from the plate.
“I’m not drinking that.” He hissed coldly, glaring from the cup of milk to Dasha. Anne grinned, leaning over the table to ruffle his hair.
“Whatever will we do with him?” She asked, shaking her head in exasperation.
“My life would be so much easier…” Dasha replied, giving a feigned long suffering sigh. Anne smiled wickedly,
“It may be easier without this big Pisoi, but you seem to think anything with the word easy attached to it is a waste of your time!” She dramatically threw her arms in the air, causing the cluttered bangles to jingle together. “Pisoi is kitten in Romanian, you know.”
Sven, at this point, was sulking on the couch, lying lengthwise. He was batting at a glass spear that was hanging from a floor lamp, studiously ignoring them.
“True, true. You know me oh-so-well, Anne-anne.” Dasha shoved at Sven, pushing his feet of her lap. “Anyway. Pisoi has something to ask you.” She took a long sip of milk, looking expectantly at her partner.
“Hm?” Sven blinked lazily at her, “Oh. Yeah…” He sat up, stretching his arms above his head. “We need you to find some people for us. We have their names… but that’s about it.” Sven grabbed the scone he had abandoned because of the milk, nibbling on it while Anne talked, “Names…” She rubbed her hands together, “That’s all? Not even a strand of hair? “She grimaced, “All well… If I’ve done it before I can do it again!” She smiled, grabbing a cloth bag from a basket. After dumping the scones into it, she tossed it to Dasha. “Use these to get Sven to what you want at the stake out.” There was no need to ask how Anne knew they were going on a stake-out. Anne just knew that type of thing. Sven yawned and attempted a glare at the same time before saying,
“I’m not some type of pet that you bribe with food!” He bristled, and then attempted to steal the bag of scones. Dasha nimbly moved them out of his reach.
“Yes, you are~ don’t pretend like you’re not.” Dasha pulled a list out of her coat pocket and unfolded it. “There are six, as far as we know. Reginald “Reggie” Jackson, Marissa Newburg, Vladimir Ivanovich, Clara Nathaniel, Natasha Iridson, and Daniel Wood. All of them between 13 and 20. No location pattern yet… but not any from Asia. In order of disappearance: Massachusetts, Britain, Germany, Argentina, Russia, Bolivia; I mapped the locations out… it’s almost like they were throwing darts.” Dasha frowned, “The society doesn’t think anyone’s dead.” This comment made Sven laugh sarcastically,
“The Society sugar coats the poison the make you swallow. My guess is they are all dead or are better off dead.” His voice harsh and cold, his nails digging into his palm causing Anne to flinch. “’Cause I recall, quite vividly, what happened last time. Only 4 people were retrieved, two of which committed suicide within 10 days… And the other two… Well one is missing and the other…” he trailed off, unable to include himself in the list. They already knew so there was no need to say more.
“No, no. They told will the same thing. They don’t lie to will, he is there best supplier! So they have to be nice to the “sadistic pervert”, remember?” She smiled amicably, patting the grim boy on the back before reaching into the newly received bag and handing him a cinnamon scone. “Have a scone, love.” Sven smiled, if there was one thing that cheered the dark haired boy up then it had to be food. He ripped of a piece and popped it into his mouth, humming in appreciation. He was still upset, but they had work to do. He looked at each of the, the stood up. “Well then, I guess we should get out of your hair. Who wants to go on a stake out?!” He asked, with feigned excitement. Anne smiled and shook her head. “Then that means I must also get to work!” She threw her hands in the air and spun in a circle out of the room, her skirts flying around her. “People to find and things to do!” The smell of flowers lingered in the air. Dasha grimaced,
“Oh yeah. Stake out. Woooo~”