whispers of the dark [tagged; samson]

After Samson left the mess hall, he felt no different than when he had entered. He would side with Thunder, but it didn’t really affect him. Except for one thing. After Josh had stood and left, proclaiming that Blackthorn had lost “fire power”, Harley exited in much a same fashion. Clearly, she sided with Shepherd and that stung in a way. It felt like a direct betrayal to him even when his common sense told him that wasn’t true. Still…this meant they were against each other. This meant that her own affiliation were against her and would most likely harass her, as well as the Josh guy. And he really didn’t know what to do with that.

Otherwise, this war was no big deal to him. Sure, he’d mess with a couple of the students for fun. Harmless sport. He wouldn’t cause any serious damage like some of his comrades. Samson had to smirk when he thought that. Comrade. That was wartime thinking, clearly. And that’s what they were doing. Everyone around—all the people outside, loitering—were preparing for war. Bracing themselves for the conflict and the fighting, the overall tension that war brought. Something he’d experienced before in his years at the Academy. He didn’t think any of them had been started over someone being accused of murder, but Sam had been through it before. And he’d always been decently strong—no one really messed with Thunders, anyway.

He hadn’t expected to see her, crumbled against the wall of the Academy, face in hands. He mussed up the back of his already unruly hair, one hand in his pocket. I just don’t understand you, Harley… Samson really didn’t. Why didn’t she side with Fire? Why didn’t she side with him. They were friends, after all, and though he didn’t want to admit it to himself, he wanted something more. But there was a sort of wall, now, something that made him afraid to push too hard. Because it was just a vicious cycle. Meet a girl, give her all she ever wanted, and have her break up with him for someone better. Samson was still not stupid enough to deny that he felt something for her though.

He leaned against the wall next to her, wondering if she heard his approach. Not like he could say ‘hi’ or anything. Whenever he thought of such things, he was amused rather than bitter. His muteness was something he’d gotten used to over time. It was never a big deal to him, though it appeared to be for others. They seemed to be nervous around someone with a ‘disability’ and he sure didn’t help—he liked to screw with people like that. But really, Samson wasn’t too bad a guy. From his hoodie pocket, he pulled out his notepad and pen, scribbling something down in neat and tidy handwriting, before putting it before the redhead’s vision. Written on it was one simple word: ”Why?”

It obviously pained her. Samson saw that, even though she ducked and hid from him, shielding her face with her radiant hair. But still, he couldn’t help the bitter thought that surfaced when Harley stated she trusted Josh: More than me? She readily sided with her rebelling Fire ally, and the jealousy was something strong, though he didn’t show it on his face. Nothing did. He was keeping carefully stoic, even though inside it was a much different story. He didn’t care how wise Josh was.

And as much as he wished it weren’t so, Harley was right. They didn’t know for sure if this Nell Shepherd girl killed Cynthia. All they had was their leaders’ word. But that didn’t matter to Samson. All that mattered was his allegiance to Thunder. And to Harley. Which is why this was so difficult. For both of them, he knew. They were friends (no matter how much he wanted more) and if Samson didn’t care about his allegiance so much, he’d be right beside her. But he cared way too much for both Thunder and Harley. They were pretty much tearing him in two.

There were so many things he wanted to say, and it was the only time he wished he still had his voice. But he didn’t, all he had was his rectangular little notebook to spill his thoughts onto. After a long silence, he wrote down: ”You’re a traitor. They’ll attack you.” He wanted her to understand. Of course she knew what she was doing, but still… He feared he wouldn’t be able to protect her. If someone tried to touch her, he knew nothing would stop him from retaliating against them. And he decided to write down these thoughts to. ”I can’t betray Thunder.” But god, did he want to keep her safe. And he wanted her to look at him so he can see those green eyes that he loved too much.

Samson didn’t want to control what Harley did. She was her own person, who made her own decisions. And he did his best to keep that mask up so she wouldn’t see any pain. But his bright green eyes peered at her, searching her for more answers that what she was giving. Neither of them wanted this, he knew that. Neither of them wanted to have to choose sides, didn’t want to be separated by their alliances. If he could change things, he would. But they didn’t have much power. The leaders made their decision, and that was that.

Dammit, she was crying. Samson turned into a blob of affection when girls cried, and he’d obviously not seen Harley do it before. She just wasn’t the type of girl to cry. He wiped the tear away with his thumb, his hand on her cheek. Then with a sigh, he leaned his forehead against hers. Samson felt like an asshole. He could have phrased it better, but for one thing it was hard to portray emotions through a piece of paper. And for another, he was generally a blunt person. Not that he didn’t care about people’s feelings—he especially cared about Harley’s—but that was who he was. Straightforward, and stating the obvious. And making Harley cry.

He moved away, and wrote down something else. ”I know I’m a dick. I’m sorry.” The apology was best expressed in his eyes, though, as was most everything. The limits of his communication were not in his eyes. They usually spoke for him. When she leaned against him, he stayed there for a bit, relishing in the contact. And it was almost like there wasn’t a problem or a war or anything like that. It was almost like nothing was separating them. He wrote his reply down, feeling that something like this couldn’t just be expressed with his face. ”Do whatever you think is right. I’ll protect you.” For that much, he didn’t care about loyalty to Thunder. If anyone tried to touch the girl, he’d make sure to be there.

Samson’s lips were so close to hers, but he held back. Samson didn’t want to be pushed away, didn’t want to scare her off. He also didn’t want to end up with his heart ripped out and stomped on again. It may have sounded dramatic, but his previous relationships hadn’t gone over so well. But he knew somehow that Harley wasn’t like them. He didn’t know why he couldn’t see how cold-hearted the other girls were—maybe because he was so naively blind. But Harley…it was one of those feelings that something was different. She was different.

Samson shook his head as he wrote, ”This is war. I’d be worried if you weren’t over emotional.” Even though he kept his calm and cool, others felt the intense pressure of war. And he couldn’t blame them. Wars weren’t fun, they were vicious. And once one began, he viewed it as a necessary evil. Which is why he wanted to keep her from such things, even though there was no way he could blind her, especially now that she’d chosen her side. The one she wasn’t supposed to be on. He didn’t like conflict—he was indifferent. At her ‘sweet’ comment, he gave her an amused look, eyebrow raised. More writing. ”I’m a big boy. I can take care of myself.” He was attempting to make the situation more lighthearted than it actually was. Like it wasn’t taking his heart and stretching it out like silly putty. He really just wanted to keep that smile on her face.

Putting away his notebook, Samson took her hand in his and pulled her away from the wall. It wouldn’t do to just stand around and mope now, but his mischievous smile revealed nothing. School was done for today, and they needed to forget about what was going on in those walls for at least one afternoon. He guided her off the grounds were people were forming together in protective groups, tension around them like the buzzing underneath his skin, and headed to Maple Hollow. All along the way to the park, he continued to hold her hand.

Stupid and pointless. He wondered if he agreed about the war. He simply went along silently, because that's what he was best at--silence. But Harley could cry as much as she'd like in front of him; it made him feel like he was getting somewhere with her. Closer, somehow. Especially since he didn't have too many close friends. And those friends didn't know much about his personal. It was at least general knowledge that he lived in an occult shop with an eccentric woman. But that was it really. Most people did not know how he even became mute. Or that he was from Newfoundland. Or that his parents were from enemy affiliations. And he'd like to spill his guts to Harley so she'd feel even closer to him.


He snorted at the 'little Thunder Wonder' comment, something he usually didn't do. Of course he didn't laugh, just sometimes a light exhale. He wrote down one word that would have sounded wry if he could speak. "Cute." But the cute one between the two of them was her, especially now that she seemed so unguarded. Careless. Like there isn't a war between us. Now was probably the worst time to be feeling so close to her--because tomorrow and as long as this war continued they would be enemies. Even as he mentally--and verbally, on paper--swore to protect her if harm should come her way. It wouldn't be easy. But he had confidence they could make it through...right?


He smiled wider at her confusion. Which was an accomplishment, since his expressions varied from flat to smirk. It was a bit of a walk to Maple Hollow, but it was worth it to get away from the Academy. Especially when she squeezed his hand. As they passed the occult shop with its dark façade, Samson heard a ruckus with in and sighed. He pulled Harley into the store that served as his home, the bell above the door ringing as he opened it. Most knew that he lived here with Beatrice, the redheaded woman currently swinging the broom around as she shouted, ”Kiss my ass, you hellfire demon!” Samson looked over at her animosity was targeted, and saw a spider on the wall. Taking the broom from her hand, he thwacked it against the wall and killed the arachnid, handing it back to Beatrice with an amused expression. ”Thank you Sammy, now I know why I keep you—“

At Harley’s teasing, Samson pinched her cheek and lifted his eyebrows. Yeah, definitely cute. He wondered just how he would make it through without her on his side. He didn’t know about her sister or family, otherwise it would have given him more reason to keep his damned mouth shut. For Samson, it was easier. He didn’t have family on the other side, and Beatrice always understood his siding with Thunder. He was Thunder, after all. But now he had Harley, or rather, he didn’t have her. Try not to be so bitter, his own thoughts mocked him.

Samson could tell right off the back that Beatrice liked Harley, but she wondered what the girl thought. Probably that this woman was completely bonkers and likely to end up in the loony bin one day. Which may not be far from the truth, actually. But in spite of the eccentricities, Beatrice was an intelligent and kind woman. And Samson loved her like the mother she was, which is why she got off calling him ‘Sammy’ with a simple eyeroll. The Thunder boy even smiled when he noticed the girl’s blush, and the word ‘cute’ came to mind again. ”School friend?” Beatrice asked after the hand shake. ”Hmm…let me try to guess which element you are. Red hair makes me immediately think fire, ya know?” Samson lifted his eyebrows at the older woman, who waved him off. ”Okay, okay, I know I’m Water.” She gave Harley her upmost attention, which was impressive considering how flighty the woman was.

Beatrice lifted an eyebrow as Samson coughed at her comment. He had never heard anyone say that when the woman introduced herself as his ‘owner’. Harley was something else, that was for damn sure. ”I like her,” Beatrice said, turning a bit to Samson. ”Keep her around.” Then, she turned back to the fellow redhead and eyed her closer, saying with a scolding sound, ”Green eyes, not good. Beware the evil eye.” For emphasis, Beatrice gave her the universal ‘I’m watching you’ signal with her fingers, though this was all in good humor. Even she was aware of how batshit she was. ”Give her a talisman, Sammy, on the house.” And the woman disappeared upstairs where the two of them lived.

Walking behind the counter, Samson used the notepad for taking messages from the phone to write, ”I am so sorry you had to meet her. She’s my adoptive mother.” He gestured with his hands then before writing more. ”Welcome to my humble abode. Now about that talisman…? He gave her a sly smirk.

Beatrice was simply overenthusiastic at getting the girl’s element right, and Samson shook his head again. Sometimes, he felt like the adult in the relationship. By the expression on Harley’s face, he guessed that she wondered how well a Thunder and Water got along. Well, since he already felt partial to them thanks to his mother, pretty damn well. He couldn’t remember the last time they seriously fought about anything—Samson didn’t think they ever had.

Yes, Harley definitely passed the test in Beatrice’s book. The woman could be quite the mama grizzly, and was unfortunately very perceptive when it came to Samson. Which meant she could probably tell what was going on in his head, and it made him more than uncomfortable. But he simply smiled at Harley—he didn’t think he smiled this much around anyone else—and shook his head at her question, wrote down, ”Don’t listen to her. She’s been telling me the same thing about the malocchio ever since she met me.” She very nearly had a heart attack when she first saw his green eyes after brushing his hair away from them.

Samson blinked. Well, he was at least glad Beatrice didn’t scare her away with her evil eye blather. He smiled at her ‘watching you’ gesture, and wrote, ”Am I really that suspicious?” He turned away for a moment and opened the drawer of a table behind him, pulling out a jewelry box. He opened it and set it on the counter so that she could see the pendant, specifically the scorpion encased in resin. ”I’m sure you don’t want to go around wearing that, even if it’ll protect you from bad luck.” He raised an eyebrow as he pulled out his own from under his shirt. Then, he wrote, ”I could give you something nicer, if you like, but it won’t defend you from the evil eye.”