(no subject)

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Title: Lady Karma

Pairing: Howince.

Rating: Over all I’d say R but not necessarily for this particular chapter.

Word Count:  3,647

Disclaimer:  I do not own the boosh. This isn't real. I make no money from this.

Summary:  Initially, Vince was un-concerned about the unfamiliar surroundings— in the state in which we revert to in our dreams, when things exist as they are, without bewilderment, without a sense of the body.

Notes: Quite a bit of this came from a dream I had, which was so packed with striking imagery I had to write about it. I wanted to try and transport that experience into writing. I did my best :S

A huge and fervent thank you to both el_gardner  and thieving_gypsy  for their beta skills and advice. It must be so boring and frustrating having to constantly fix my embarrassing grammatical errors. They are very sweet and patient though. *hugs* 
If the cut isn't working I'm going to start crying. I'm seriously pissed off that something so simple won't work. If it isn't I'll try and sort it, yet again. If it still won't work I'll delete the entry. :C

 

 

Nothing really bad ever seemed to happen to Vince Noir. Sure, he’d been in some scrapes in the past, but had never really suffered that much. And had never really learned from any of those moments of turmoil. On the surface, Vince had had an easy life. He never had to do that much; everybody thought of him amiably, and he always looked good. Vince even convinced himself that his life was non-complex, and relatively pain free. Because, that was the way he preferred it.

 

Now, being someone who never really got into too much trouble, his reactions to waking up somewhere different and unplanned were mixed.

 

Firstly, instead of the dreary ceiling above his head, in the bedroom that he and Howard shared, Vince met with the sky. With a sky, at least, because even Vince, who was not particularly well informed, knew that it wasn’t the sky of his world. Waking up to the sky of his world wasn’t exactly that uncommon; if he was at a festival, drunk out of his skull on a hill somewhere with a random girl wrapped around him. He’d woken to the sky every day in his early youth as a foundling in the jungle, too, and although the sky was often clear and bright, above the trees, it was nothing in comparison to what he was seeing now.

 

For one thing, it was so peculiar, that he was unsure of whether it was night or day. The colourings of its background were alike to that of an early evening sky after a sunny day, only deeper and more vivid; indigoes, smudged with violet. A strange twisting Aurora of pinks and turquoises danced across this background, spotted with gold and bronze. The sky was so clear, Vince could see many moons, strange and alien; he almost imagined he could see other galaxies, spiralling light-years away. The stars were incredibly bright, and striking in their vivacity, and Vince could see them so noticeably; the hot white burning heat at their centres, and the rippling, silver crown of thorns in their surroundings. Initially, Vince was un-concerned about the unfamiliar surroundings— in the state in which we revert to in our dreams, when things exist as they are, without bewilderment, without a sense of the body.

 

He questioned the space above him, forcing himself to feel, contemplative of his existence. For the first time in his life, Vince thought: I am so small.

 

Slowly, he began to come out of his dazed, and semi-conscious, state, and noticed an icy wetness spreading below his back, chilling his spine, and a hardness was forming beneath him. What was that-- Ice? Why am I lying on ice?

 

It took him a few seconds to realise he could move, and as he shifted, he became aware of several things at once.

 

It was freezing cold, and his body shivered in protest; he was completely naked, and exposed to whatever climate he was placed in. And most of all; that he was definitely not dreaming.

 

After the shock of the cold, the uneasy feeling, the hard surface beneath him and the baffling and elusive sky, he tried to wake himself and found he could not. He was already awake.

 

In his haste, to leave the surface below him, he hadn’t time to contemplate why he’d come to be here; he needed more information. He raised himself quickly, turning to see, that he had indeed been laying on frozen water. Shapes where hidden beneath the icy wall, and on closer inspection Vince saw that they were fish, tails twisted upwards, gills raised, mouths open eyes steely and staring—frozen in a tableau of shock.

 

He slowly raised his eyes, and his heart jumped to his throat as he realised he was in the middle of a vast frozen lake. Vince whimpered in pain, shivering now so rapidly that his chattering teeth sliced through the side of his tongue. He winced and cried out as blood trickled from his lips, dotting the surface below him, splodges of scarlet standing out amongst the white background. He ignored it, too busy frantically staring around; he noticed that the lake was surrounded by a sort of woodland area, trees dark and devoid of leaves, twisted at snarling angles, silently screaming in protest.

 

Tentatively, so as not to slip, Vince raised himself to his feet and wrapped his arms around himself tightly. His breath was leaving him in puffs of condensation.

"Oh God!" he croaked; the cold was literally unbearable. He danced about and heaved his breath onto his hands to try and warm himself. It had little to no effect. His back was slightly wet from where the ice had melted and the cool slide of the droplets was almost like a knife dragging across his spine. He looked up at the woods in front of him. They offered no salvation, having perished themselves, and Vince was suddenly made desperately aware of his situation. He had to get inside, anywhere. He had no time to linger. To his right and left there were nothing but miles and miles of unbroken landscape, nothing in the way of shelter. He turned rapidly and let out a gasp of shock as a rush of wind hit his face, billowing his hair around his ears, which had now gone numb.

 

At least a mile from where he was standing was a fortress; so vast in size that Vince could barely take it in. In contrast to the sky it was dark, gothic, with multiple towers, and covered at its highest points by a grey mist. It was creepy, and carried a disquieting air of mystery, but Vince was more interested in the lights emanating from its many windows, and frantically scrambled towards it. His primal instincts kicked in, and he slipped as he ran over the bed of ice, too hasty in his movements to remain upright; eventually he reverted to a slide-and-crawl technique, which he had to keep changing, balancing different parts of his body on the ice because it was too cold to leave them there for too long. His hands were numb and blue, and his skin was slowly being eaten from the frost. He was almost crying with the pain.

 

Just keep going, please, keep going, it's not too far; you have to keep going.

 

Vince tried as best as he could to shut out the panic that was rising like bile in his throat. He'd only reached three quarters of the way across the lake and his body was beginning to give out, his limbs protesting. After what felt like an eternity Vince eventually reached the edge of the lake, only to let out a wail of despair – he had noticed the rocks before he'd started his journey but he had underestimated the sharpness and size of them. The fortress was only a few yards away but the journey was almost blocked by the rocky surface before him. Whimpering breathlessly he heaved himself up on to a boulder, and curled himself up into a ball. He shivered violently and started to cry, loud and noisy so it echoed back at him. Snot and tears were dripping from his face but he was too numb to feel it, not that he cared by this point. Vince was sobbing so loudly that at first he didn't hear the squawking, and the flapping of wings as two crows flew around his head, snickering nastily. They were huge, dark and thickly feathered, with sharp pointed beaks, big black beady eyes, and long, thin, ugly talons.

 

 

“Look at him! Look how pathetic he is, crying there like a little girl!” they croaked scathingly.

 

Now Vince wasn’t that out of it not to notice that he was being mocked. He glared up at the swooping, cackling creatures, from under his fringe.

 

“Y-y-you… s-s-shut up!”

 

There was a squawk of surprised, delighted laughter and the crows circled nearer, Vince batting at them feebly.

 

“He speaks with our tongue!”

 

“How funny!” they tittered.

 

Vince raised himself up, a glimmer of hope flickering in his heart.

 

“P-p-please, h-help me!” he stuttered, twisting around trying to focus on the black swirling beasts, with their beaks as sharp as the rocks beneath.

 

There was more shrill laughter and they cooed in mocking tones. “We do not help! We pass judgement.”

 

 “You must aid yourself to survive.”

 

Vince whimpered softly and stared at the path before him, his feet were already coated in a layer of frostbite; if he carried on they’d be ripped to shreds.

 

“It’s impossible! I can’t walk over all that! Please, I’ll die!” One of the crows tutted in disgust.

 

“See how quickly you give in!”

 

 “You are willing to curl up on this rock and die?”

 

“You are weak human; perhaps you don’t deserve the warmth of the fortress, if you’re not willing to try for it!”

 

“Perhaps all those names you were crying out in your pity are well shot of you!”

 

Vince turned again to the rocky path, he was still awake enough; he still had some strength. He tried to map a path in front of him, pinpointing places where the rocks where smoother. Taking a deep, shuddering breath, he took a step forward, balancing himself between two boulders. He winced as the sharp stones cut into his feet beneath him, but bit his lip and carried on. The crows had stopped squawking mockingly and were observing his progress with interest, whispering to each other inaudibly. Vince ignored them and carried on, although his whole body was screaming out in protest and the skin on the soles of his feet were torn and bleeding. He whimpered as he grazed his shoulder and slipped, although the tears under his eyes were beginning to lessen as he ploughed on with quiet determination. For once in his life, Vince didn't give a shit what he looked like – he just had to stay alive.

 

By the time he reached the smooth concrete he could do little more than collapse on to his knees, and sob over the pain in his feet, although he still had time to fire out an insult. "How do you like that? You wankers!" he spat bitterly, only to be met with silence. He looked around; the crows had all but vanished, and Vince was alone.

 

Blood was smeared across his pale skin, wrapped around him like ribbons. His feet where numb, and he knew it would be a while again before they healed, If they ever did. Lying on his back, Vince blinked weakly as a stone Angel, leaning out from the design of the fortress, towered above him, directly over his exposed and broken body. He stared deeply into her carved eyes, marvelling over the realistic design, oddly comforted. He imagined she’d winked at him, but by now, he was so delirious, so tired, it could have been a mere hallucination. She smiled, and her mouth started moving:

 

“Well done, little one.”

 

Vince passed out.

 

--- --

 

They had argued, properly, not with the usual banter, with sly jokes thrown in for good measure; it was brutal. Howard had yelled, and cried and swore, and Vince had spat and kicked and bit and grieved for their friendship.

 

“Why do I stay around you, all you do is make my life a misery!” Howard had growled, shocking Vince with his passion, not the usual defensive whining.

 

“I don’t know!” Vince had screamed back, “You’re a miserable bugger who’s no fun to be around!”

 

It escalated, and they’d ended up scrapping, until Bollo had separated them and sent them into different rooms.

 

Vince had cried himself to sleep.

 

--- --

 

Vince’s whole body ached, and he was delirious. It took him a while to realise that he was in a massive four-poster bed, wrapped in various furs. He peeled back the blankets with aching limbs to see that he was coated with bandages, and some sort of cream to aid the blistered, swollen and bruised skin. Vince only cared about the fact that he was alive, and warm. He took a few minutes to cry, gratefully, staring at his hands, thanking whoever was up there for letting him live.

 

The room was large and elegantly furnished, with polished wooden dressers and thick plush carpets. There was a hearth, surrounded with pink, blue, and yellow marble, and a roaring fire was emanating from within.

 

He pulled himself, cautiously, into a seating position, and swung his legs around over the edge of the bed. He stared down, afraid and unwilling at first to contemplate the state of the soles of his feet. With difficulty, face wincing in anticipation he placed his entire weight on his feet. It stung slightly, as was expected, but the bandages provided enough protection for him to just about walk.

 

He was still wearing nothing. And he contemplated the large oak dresser at the other side of the room. Surely there must be something in there he could borrow, these people, who had rescued him, surely they didn’t expect him to wander about naked until he found a way of getting home?

 

Howard would notice Vince was missing and tell Naboo, then Naboo would find a way of bringing him back. He had to. In the meantime, Vince had to find some way of getting some food. It was so quiet in the room, and he could hear no movement from outside. Part of him wanted to crawl back under the covers and wait. But he needed to eat, his stomach was growling in protest. He was seconds away from opening the dresser, to try and find some clothing, when the large solid wooden door to his room was suddenly wrenched open.

-- ---

Howard was feeling grumpy, which wasn’t that much of an uncommon occurrence, so no one really cared; apart from Howard, of course, because Howard cared a little too much about everything. He cared so much about things that it was difficult to keep the furrow from his brow, which creased his forehead unforgivably. Sometimes Howard was grumpy because of something that had happened; one too many jibes from Vince about his attire, or yet another empty beer can thrown at his head from the giggling twits that Vince hung about with.  But most of the time, Howard’s grumpiness, was down to him, getting himself into a mood because he cared too much about what he lacked.

 

Incessantly, he’d spend hours arranging his beloved Stationery Village into organised sections, driving Vince up the bend claiming that organisation was the key to success. But really, he was looking for something for his hands to do while he engrossed himself in his thoughts - thoughts that more or less landed him in a bad mood; because that was Howard; grumpy, sad old Howard.

 

He’d still be there that afternoon, painstakingly separating the safety pins in terms of size and colour, placing them securely back in Safety Pin Cottage, if it wasn’t a bank holiday. So Howard, for lack of something else to do, had run himself a bath in a dubious, and half-hearted, attempt to try and relax. Surrounded by aqua blue and pink bubbles from Vince’s bubble bath, Howard sat precariously frowning in the bath looking a little bit like a candyfloss disaster. You see Howard hated Bank Holidays. Simply because they reminded him time and time again that he had no social life. Vince would disappear at night looking all sparkly eyed and bouncy - a colourful spectacle of happiness and youth - to dance, flirt and drink with more bright young things. The sight of him spread-eagled and passed out on his bed, with his lip-gloss and eyeliner smeared across his face, and a slightly loose grin on his slumbering face in the morning wasn’t an unusual occurrence. And nevertheless poignantly pinpointed how different Vince’s life was to his. How much more active it was, fun and all together complete, despite his reservations about Vince’s so called friends.

 

Often Howard would witness the shallowness of Vince’s friends and be grateful that at least he was a sincere and honest person, never trying to be somebody he wasn’t, and following the crowd. He’d be warmed by his moments with Vince where they’d sit up till late crimping or playing with the Satsuma’s. When Vince smiled at Howard. Howard knew he had a place. But when Vince would direct his gaze elsewhere, at some dolled up girl or an item of clothing, Howard fell crashing back down to Earth. To be honest, he had no idea why Vince stuck around. Why he hadn’t flown away like a bird of paradise like he so often resembled. The thought disturbed him, sent him to such a fit of distress that he never dared ask - in case one day - Vince did just up and leave. But the answer was rather simplistic - who else would make him his tea and see him in his pyjamas with no makeup on? Maybe Vince was very vain and shallow and Howard was just a convenience? Or maybe Vince just needed him. Whatever the reason - it was beginning to grate on Howard.

 

The argument last night had been epic to say the least. After years of taking out all his fury on his wrists, Howard had finally cracked and let out a tirade of suppressed emotion. He still remembered the look on Vince’s face, the shock, the surprise, and the hurt. And somehow that only made him feel angrier.

 

“That’s what I feel every day you twat, every day and you just laugh at me.”

 

Howard almost hadn’t wanted to go back, to the Nabootique, after the disaster in Hollywood. He’d just known that Vince would be relentlessly scathing. All he’d wanted was to sit down with a hot cup of tea and wallow, but Vince had to be up in his face, had to demand his attention. Just had to remind him again that he was an incompetent loser.

 

“Why do you always have to get on at me? Do you really get off in seeing me cry?”

 

Vince hadn’t even tried to apologise, just whittled on about how he’d been hard done by too, how awful it was for Howard to go off and abandon him. Well that did it. Out came the cork. Howard went mental.

 

“Don’t you dare, ever, ever try and say that your behaviour this past year hasn’t been more appalling than ever. You have treated me worse than an enemy. You care about no one but yourself. I detest you.”

 

And then Vince did something so unexpected that Howard was momentarily startled, as was Vince, judging by the horrified look on his face. He’d started crying, not just little teardrops, but full-blown, noisy crying. And had stomped off into the bedroom, shutting the door with a resounding slam. Howard had slept on the couch, well as much as he could sleep. He’d heard Vince snivelling in the room and felt guilty, then annoyed, because he was justified, justified in all of it.

 

But Vince had sounded so broken.

 

He hadn’t actually seen Vince all morning, maybe he was still asleep - maybe he was awake but sulking.

 

He was still drying himself off when Naboo’s voice yelled for him. Rolling his eyes he shrugged himself into his dressing gown and wandered into the sitting room to encounter yet another peculiar sight; Naboo was shuffling about in his curly shoes, biting his lip anxiously.

 

“What now!” Howard asked, with an air of being hard done by.

 

Naboo sighed loudly and shook his head. “It’s Vince,” he said, voice laced with unease.

 

Howard frowned and sighed loudly.

 

“What’s he done now?” he bristled, wanting a quiet life.

 

Naboo bit his lip sheepishly. “He’s not doing anything, that’s the thing. He won’t wake up.”

 

“Well, what do you want me to do about it? It’s not my fault he’s hung-over, and far too lacking in the concept of what is night or da...”

 

“For fuck sake!” Naboo yelled, cutting Howard off looking both exasperated and panicked. There was a couple of bewildered seconds where they both stared at each other, Howard’s mouth gaping at the uncharacteristic deviation of Naboo’s normal mood.

 

“He’s not sleeping Howard! He’s gone wrong.”

 

Howard narrowed his eyebrows in confusion. “What?”

 

Naboo sighed and rubbed his eyes, turban slipping slightly off of his head. “He’s really cold and stiff, I can’t wake him up, I’ve tried everything incantations -uncloaking spells, charms, potions, lotions. Nothing is working.”

 

Howard felt the mug in his hand begin to slip from his fingers, seconds later tea splattered onto his slippers. He clutched at it; mouth wobbling around the edges, feeling as if the world was turning in on it’s self.

 

Naboo half-heartedly sent a jibe his way, about the cleaning bill for the carpet, but couldn’t quite bring himself to sound convincing. Howard looked like he was crumbling. And then the mug fell; a resounding clatter and Howard had bolted into the bedroom.

 

At first, from the other side of the room, Vince looked almost normal, like he always did when he was fast asleep. But as Howard moved closer, a weight shifting in his heart, he noticed the difference; Vince was shaded with an icy blue tone, and his fingers and toes were tensed at painful angles. His eyes were wide open, emotionless and black.

 

Howard’s knees gave out at the head of the bed, and a strangled sound heaved from inside his chest leaving his mouth. He was crunched over, curled up, face screwed mouth wide open and he gasped for air.

 

No, no, nonononononono! NO, NO, NO!

 

Naboo was stroking his back softly, looking rather embarrassed about it.

 

“Oh, erm, I probably should have mentioned. He’s not dead”

 

 

 

--- --

 

 

 

 

Comments

[crowson75.livejournal.com]

Meeep! Nooo! Poor Vincey. Poor Howard...ey. You're going to mend them, right? *flutters eyelashes*

What I meant to say is that this is marvellous. It's vivid and utterly imaginative.

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Howardy! xD

Aw, stop! *blushes* But thanks though, that was a very nice comment. And I enjoy all of your stuff too. *goes off to read your latest*

[monooccularcat.livejournal.com]

I LOOOOVED the description of the sky.

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Thank you muchly! I worked hard on trying to convey the sky, so I'm glad it pulled through. :)

[jackiethomas73.livejournal.com]

This is really lovely, I can see Vince's world so clearly. I'm very glad LJ didn't defeat you (I always have a cry when I'm trying to post a story)

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

I know, right? I almost lost the will to live at one point. Damn blasting LJ.
Thanks so much for reading! XD

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Thank you! I haven't said thanks for adding me as a friend yet, so it's a double thank you.
x

[dustyejolene.livejournal.com]

So unusual! I really really enjoyed reading this. I think you've got Howard down really well too!

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

I'm glad you enjoyed it. Howard is so much fun to write. :D
x

[iggysmokespot.livejournal.com]

Awesome! Different to alot of the fics I've been reading (in a good way!). Can't wait to see where it goes.

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Aw thank you! I'll not leave you hanging for long. XD

[librarynoise.livejournal.com]

Ooh this is gorgeous and absorbing! Can't wait to find our what happens next!

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Thank you *beams* Update fairly soon ;)

[directmydesire.livejournal.com]

This is seriously intriguing! Cannot wait to see where you go with it!

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Thanks so much for reading!

[jcheartsboosh.livejournal.com]

Oooh I like this, it's all sort of dark, and the imagery is wonderful.

Can't wait for more. :)

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Good, I'm glad you're enjoying it! XD

[el-gardner.livejournal.com]

I saw this last night but I didn't have time to comment...

I still love this story so much! The imagery and descriptions are so vivid, and the plot is original and intriguing... Can't wait for more :D

<3

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

What's happened to your display pic? You have a good weekend hun!
You rock a lot. xxx

[el-gardner.livejournal.com]

lol, I hadn't even noticed that! I was mucking about with my pics the other day, so I must have changed the settings! Oh well, it's back.

I'm actually at mums 'til Wednesday now, 'cos my daughter's off school for half term so we're stopping a bit longer. Luckily I have my laptop, and mum's got wireless internet, so I can still connect; so if you do finish the next bit it won't be a problem to look it over! Just might take a couple of days 'cos I'm a bit busy down here.

[huntingsnarks.livejournal.com]

Your observations of Howard's character are so vividly profound, I love it - I'm completely absorbed in all the details, the furrowing of the brow etc. And Vince crying despite himself was gorgeous. And the description of the ice, and the crawl-and-slip method! I am rather jealous of your writing style. :)

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Aw...stop! *blushes like a loon* Thank you so much, I'm so glad it worked that way! xxx

[unbelievable2.livejournal.com]

It's taken me a while to read this through properly. I am in awe of what you are creating here. It is really exciting and worrying in equal measure. And beautifully written. Can't wait to see where this is going next!

[redgirlxx.livejournal.com]

Thank you so much, I'm really pleased you are enjoying it! Looking forward to your next update too! XD

[turgid-prose.livejournal.com]

Ooooooh! Interesting!

I'm going to go look for Vince. He must be close to where I live!

[thecatinthetree.livejournal.com]

eeep

[xthursdaynextx.livejournal.com]

This is so good.