Darren groaned, his head throbbing and his body burning.
"Evanna?" he said in a croaking voice, throat feeling swollen as he sat up and gingerly opened his eyes.
It was night time and he was in a dark alleyway, strong smells of faeces and urine flooding his senses as he began coughing and gagging.
"Evanna?" he called once more, struggling to stand on his wobbly legs, using a slimy wall to slide himself upright. He dare not remove his hands from it as he finally gained a little control.
Where was he?
He remembered Mr Tiny and Evanna
…the lake of souls…
His hands ran down his body, fingering the alien outfit he was wearing. A quick glance down confirmed that he had on a shirt and waist coat, black trousers tucked into horrific socks and a pair of light brown leather brogues. Where the Hell did these clothes come from? He looked like a plonker for sure; something out of a history book.
With an angry growl, he studied his hair with his fingers; so used to a heavy mane of black, all he could feel was a short crop of heavily gelled hair slicked back off his face.
"Evanna!" He yelled, attempting to charge out of the alley; determined to find that wench and force her to spill. Of course, as he stepped forwards he fell instantly, landing in a puddle of sludge which saw him near vomit. As he struggled back to his feet, he felt something heavy in the pocket of his trousers.
Once far away from the dirty puddle he explored his pocket, a small grin streaking across his muddy face as he brushed his fingers across the cover of his diary, relishing the feel of the scuffed leather cover.
As though on instinct, Darren flipped to the very last page in his diary, a wide smile spreading across his lips. Evanna had filled in the last few pages for him, offering him direction and a rough update on where he was and what he was to do. His memory returned with an almost stabbing pain as everything made sense once again and he remembered where he was and what he must do.
'…I was resurrected from the Lake of Souls by Mr Tiny and granted one chance to return to earth; to change my future and prevent the War of Scars. With Evanna's help I was transported back in time to the early 1900's where I had one shot, absolutely only one chance, to change my future and the futures of those I love. I need to prevent Mr Crepsley from taking an assistant by any means necessary.'
A loud and familiar laugh caught Darren's attention as he looked up sharply, shoving the book into his pocket once more as he glared out upon the dark entrance. His eyes widened as a group of young men –vampire males by the smell of them- walked past wearing similarly stupid attire as Darren was at that moment. However, only one man was of total interest to Darren.
With a crop of bright orange hair gelled and parted handsomely to the side, wearing a dark black suit and carrying a bottle of alcohol, Larten seemed the centre of the pack, the other men jumping around his heels like excited pups.
Darren couldn't help contain the tears which suddenly spurted around his eyes; the last time he had seen this man was high above a pit of fiery stakes, plummeting to his death to save his friends.
"Lar'en, gimme a hug!" a very drunk man staggered beside him, a smaller vampire but obviously a close friend to Larten's. He threw his arms around Larten, the orange haired young man picking him up and spinning him around till he became a blur on the cobbles, both men falling to their arses and laughing drunkenly.
"Westaaaaaarr! My bottle's empty!" Larten shrieked in hysterics, throwing what appeared to have been a bottle of vodka high up in the air, narrowly missing his head as it smashed to the ground.
"You two fools comin'?" a fatter, rat like man called from the main group, looking at Larten and this 'Westaaaaaaaaaaar', clearly annoyed at their state.
Darren could only stare in utter shock at his mentor's drunken state, disapprovingly watching as his friends allowed him to near smash a bottle on his face. It surprised him how protective he suddenly felt but couldn't mull on it, realizing he had to follow on and keep track of his one-time mentor. He couldn't afford to lose him. After all; he and one shot and one shot only to change the future.
First Fic- YAY! Finally got round to writing my own after reviewing lots of others lol.
So basically, Darren's having to go back in time and try and stop Mr Crepsley blooding him so Mr Tiny's prophecy will never happen. Once I've completed it I'm gonna make it a crossover with the Saga of Larten Crepsley but I doubt it'll have much to do with that Saga because I didn't really like it all that much. Total lack of Arra! :(
Well, in this fic there'll be Arra for sure! Lots and lots of drunken fluff...but a lot of bad, tear jerking bits :(
Anyways; please enjoy! Spare me a review if you could, just so I can decide if this is worth continuing :L