S-TWC-013
St. Valentine's Ledger
Patron: Nickels Costigan
Date: Aug 12th, 1923 – Gold Coast District
Location: St. Valentine's
Proprietor: Mags
Abner took the toe tag out under the stars. He didn't mean to make it such a dramatic gesture. He just, well, he gets excited. Fidgety. Like his mind can't stay in his body if it's not moving. Plus, he hasn't seen the stars in years. And with that toe tag? He might be able to see something important.
Of course, Glass-Eyes was still fuming downstairs, pacing the back office like the smoke from her cigar might strangle something if she exhaled hard enough. I don’t blame her. This whole ██████████████ business is foul and if Abner had seen it in person before? Or even if he had been shown it in a vision…
But this isn’t that. Not quite.
Abner’s always been different. ██████ runs in his blood, yes, but his is... █████████. █████████ by distance. His sight doesn’t thread through our own █████. It glances ████████. ███████. Catches light from every other █████ but this one. He can see what might’ve been, or ████████, if the █████████████████. But never ███████.
He’s blind to our ███████████████.
It’s why ███████ never took him seriously. Why ███████ is never interested in his hypotheticals and alternatives in the face of ████████████. But me? I’ve always found it oddly comforting. There’s something pure in not being able to see your own ████ but glimpses of what ███████████████.
It means you can still surprise yourself.
Glass-Eyes, of course, has no such luxury.
She sees the past in reflection. And when she looked into Abner’s eyes, she saw Gallowsbridge. That means he has seen it. Not here. Not now. But somewhere. In some ██████, █████████ █████████ █████.
He finally came back inside after about fifteen minutes. Quiet. Pale. He handed me the tag, and for a second I saw the stars still reflecting on it.
"████████," he said. "But not ██████████. Not yet."
That’s all I needed.
I passed it to Glass-Eyes. Her fingers twitched, but she took it. She didn’t answer. Just looked down at the tag. Then she pocketed it. I placed a hand on Abner’s shoulder. He leaned into it, just a little. Just enough. Outside, the stars flickered. A note hummed faintly in the rafters, a single, suspended chord.
Nickels, when you get back, if you end up reading the ledger. It's not ██████████, okay?
It's not.
Unsmudge the Ledger
"Petipa Petersburg Prime."
Ballet Trivia | 4 Words