'An Odd Trio' (Ruby Version)

  [Alternate Text: An overhead shot of an empty, curved road winding through a densely forested area. There are towering evergreens and trees packed tightly around the pathway, creating areas of shade and light along the narrow road. The title: 'An Odd Trio' is in a 3D font with a long shadow stretching out behind it. The names 'Ruby', 'Silas', and 'Beckett' are along the road in white text.]

This writing implies a budding romance between J. Corvin and the MC, but the actual Alternate Perspective is R. Verner. This occurs during Chapter 4/5 of TFS: Book One when the MC goes off with J, leaving R, B, and S as the other group to search the woods for Milton Callaway. 🌲

The characters in this include: Ruby, Beckett, Silas, and James. Unfortunately, I can't account for your personalized Fernweh gang, so I appreciate your understanding! :D

"I'll go with James," you decide.

Finally!

Ruby mentally applauds you for the choice she could see coming from several miles away. In fact, she's unsure what the distance from the back roads to the obelisk is, but that's exactly how far in advance she knew you'd end up by James Corvin's side. You already selected him to receive first light at the memorium. The soft candle light only enhanced how he softened for you beneath that noble detective bearing.

It was mildly intriguing to witness, but the Detective among you just might out-do himself.

Ruby's lips barely curve into an unrealized smirk when James instantly stops surveying the empty, dirt path for any approaching cars. It's unlikely many townsfolk use these roads, yet she believes he was trying to give you freedom to choose whomever, possibly even spare himself any disappointment. You always picked him first during your schoolyard games, an honor. It was years ago; however, she wouldn't ever fault him if being overlooked stung a little.

Although that 'little sting' could feel devastatingly piercing to someone like James.

Your return has caused things to shift with nostalgia both softening and sharpening the similarities and differences between you four.

James's head snaps around with a force that should have pulled something in his neck; it's all reflex, a startled and hopeful one. He does hold eye contact with you. It's like he still can't believe his eyes that you're here. (To be fair, that's also why Ruby slowed her convertible to a crawl to take you in—to confirm your arrival in town without any gossip. She needed to know.)

"Me…?" James softly clarifies before clearing his throat. "I'll be glad to pair up with you—for the search effort."

Someone's a sufferer of the Freudian slip.

Ruby's smirk shifts into a knowing smile that gains more ground, no longer a suggestion of her well-intentioned amusement. A silent warning look from Silas curbs her need to say something that helps steer things along. What else could slip out from the town's overworked and likely underloved Detective? She rolls her eyes, relenting instead with a small step away.

"The groups are all settled then," Silas concludes. "See you both later."

Your friend, Beckett, shoots an uncertain glance in your direction that would be too quick for most people to perceive, except Ruby was already observing him—how he would take the news. He must view you as a source of security, if not familiarity. It's understandable, especially as the two groups start to diverge.

You're getting farther and farther away.

"I would be far more worried about what could bite you in there than us," Ruby jokingly points out, which receives a worried grimace from the visitor. Oh, he's precious. "Not that you should fret about that either. Perhaps, only the ticks?"

"How comforting, you went from flesh wounds to blood-sucking insects in less than a second."

Silas's flat comment is paired with him neatly stepping to be the apex of this group's triangle, while Ruby remains comfortably on his left and Beckett trails nearby on the right side. He's squinting at where you and James went. The thick tree line barely allows snatches from her specially ordered flashlights, LEDs rendered a less bright white from the towering, dark trees.

"I try," she sarcastically quips. "I prefer admiring the outdoors from the indoors, you know that."

"We're already in them, so let's get going."

"Yeah, you're right," Beckett reluctantly agrees. "I guess we're searching for that missing kid…"

"Milton," Ruby off-handedly remarks. "When I find where he has holed up for this prank, he will wish he found an underground bunker." In spite of expressing that, Ruby's flashlight is on and she is panning it around with more care than even Silas. The light doesn't penetrate as much as she'd hoped, inspiring her to imagine a grid over what she sees and illuminate it, each section and distant corner. "I do wonder how the station will treat his truck—if it will be impounded and dragged off to be"—her tone turns dubious—"'evidence'. The Detective grumbled as much… As you both well heard."

Beckett's eyes jump from a nearby tree hollow to her and then back again, although there was a flicker of agreement in his non-combative act.

Like her, he was taken aback by James's stern reaction enough to step away, except that was likely motivated by his shiny detective's badge rather than surprise. It actually threw her off for a split second before that tone—that order—both rankled something in Ruby and set it on edge. James is normally so mild-mannered. It's not her place to be concerned, but it is unusual.

"He's stressed," Silas states matter-of-factly while his patient expression requests empathy from her. "Let it go."

"That advice is better suited for someone else."

Ruby offers a falsely innocent, close-lipped smile beneath Silas's sudden attention where he continues to hold his flashlight beam over his head; however, it suddenly feels like she's the one in that spotlight. She can sense the call-out before his lips barely part. He has never been one to shy away from this. It's refreshing.

"You're right," he knowingly remarks without missing a beat. "At least loosen your grip then."

Ruby's hushed scoff is softer than James's 'me' when you said his name; it's pitiful. Still, Silas knows between the two of them, she is the one who holds onto things more without being as broodingly—painfully—devotedly honest about it all. "I will still leave marks," she jokes with a twist of her lips. "Very well, he is stressed. It's partially why I defrayed Bowers, but I doubt we know the true extent of the strain… Just be mindful."

There's no retort from him after she states that even if they could both come up with half a dozen; no, Silas can detect her concer—her warning. The two share a brief look before Ruby focuses on Beckett. Once again, he's treating a beam of light like a hyperactive pixie hopped up on something similar to when you all were out at your grandfather's cabin. Wasn't he scanning around earlier? It was calmer. She along with Silas pause to watch your friend, halting the group's walk through the forest.

"What are you doing?" Ruby inquires. "We are not attempting to signal anyone…"

"I thought I heard something!"

He quickly stage-whispers that as if the thing in question might hear him speaking ill about it.

"Like what?" Silas clarifies in a murmur. "Can you describe it?"

"A twig snapping?" Ruby breezily suggests. "I feared he might set off firecrackers, but he isn't that callous with his pranks… I don't believe."

Beckett shifts some once he is the center of attention, preferring to concentrate on Silas out of what Ruby is going to assume is familiarity. The two are staying together. She takes the cue to continue her careful survey for any stray chip bags (cheddar cheese blast) or any soda cans (cherry extreme). Milton would never let her spend more than a few dollars on a snack—on him. He should have eaten real food that was cooked instead of gas station goods. Ruby tightens her grip on the flashlight's cylinder, feeling its warmth from being turned on compared to her cool palm.

She brought extra batteries for this dumb prank; it isn't a search effort.

Who would think a faux search effort in a small town is funny? No one with taste. He could do better, planting the wrong colored flowers to vex the beautification committee is an idea or messing with one of the statues on the—

Hisssssss…

Ruby's thoughts about Milton are interrupted by a soft, sibilant sound that mingles between their harsh edges before they can dare to turn inwards. She instantly reacts. Grabbing Beckett's hood and pulling back in time with him taking a step forward causes him to stumble closer to her and whirl around. Even then, he doesn't appear upset when garish orange cotton was just flush against his throat. It wasn't rough, only abrupt. He's staring at Ruby in confusion with a blush setting in from what happened—the discomfort, embarrassment, surprise?

"It wasn't my intention to scare you, but…"

She forms a set of fangs with her index and middle finger before clamping them over the flashlight's head. Its beam is now a thin sliver that she uses to reveal a—

"Ohmygod, oh my—look at that—I almost hit it!"

The tautness on his hoodie's hood becomes further slack as Beckett lurches into her and Silas who's handling it far better by offering a comforting hand. She isn't great at this part. "He is not venomous," Ruby shares. "Well… Silas?"

"Let's just leave it—him?—the snake alone."

Among the branches of a tree rests the coils of a thick-bodied snake, perched to strike out at any passing birds or creatures who might visit the nearby creek running through the area. It's a mottled brown, two shades, with a pattern on its back. A forked tongue flicks out in what Ruby views as a greeting until Silas taps her elbow while still managing Beckett who got way too close to the reptile. She waves off his action, still keeping the snake minimally in the light as they backtrack away. "That will probably be the most thrilling part of tonight," she jokes.

Beckett offers her a weak half-smile; however, it seems genuine enough. Silas sighs quietly.

"I would've rather seen a deer or a bunny rabbit—something warm-blooded, but, uh, without too many teeth," he admits. "Maybe a raccoon?"

"So would the snake," Ruby notes, which effectively paves the way for a new topic when Beckett swallows. "How do you find Fernweh?"

"'Find it?'" he repeats her, eyebrows knitting briefly. "Like, you mean how do I like it? Oh…"

No, she didn't, but that careful wording to spare him any awkwardness was just self-inflicted.

"It's very green."

Ruby actually grins at his answer, which does appear to make Beckett reconsider it until her laughter ensures to include him. "That it is," she agrees. "Very verdant greenery with a history all its own, but we lack a tourism depot. You do not need to worry about that with us… I was simply curious, no harm. [Surname] has more ties that could bind compared to your outlook."

Nostalgia and trauma are heady things.

"We should apologize for the memorium," Silas adds after a moment. "How they treated you."

Ruby is missing something; that's rare. She glances between the two of them, quickly able to connect the dots. Her focus wasn't on your friend—the Visitor—compared to the last minute checks for the event, appeasing her mother's expectations, and then you. It seems there was some exclusion? "What happened exactly?"

"Oh, no it's—it kind of makes sense, really. I'm new in town, and it was a ceremony type of thing," Beckett quickly assures them. "I wasn't sure if I was supposed to take one—a candle. It was more of a peer pressure thing because everyone else had one… I didn't need one."

"But did you want one?" Ruby asks with less amusement, thoughtful. "For [Surname]?"

"Well, yeah, so I could support [him/her/them]."

Ruby's respect for this newcomer—for Beckett— heightens after a single sentence; however, her care is a rarity—scarce—and your return home is already stirring things up. She offers him a small smile, a touch more sincere. "Then as a bloodline, I do apologize for the utter absence of hospitality," Ruby starts. She holds up her hand, requesting a brief pause before Beckett can ramble further. "And should you try to refuse my apology while on Fernweh land, then we will have to have a duel for my honor, so… I would suggest you at least heed it. Unless you enjoy fencing? Guns are rather impersonal."

. . .

Beckett stares at her, while she has the delight of earning one of Silas's good-humored eye rolls.

"She's joking," Silas reassures him. "There is no duel. That isn't how those work, historically."

"Some of our traditions are rather convoluted," Ruby concedes. "Others are more dark, but if it is any consolation: the candles were scentless."

"Ruby," Silas intones. "Don't start."

"What? All I'm saying is that they could have undertaken more effort, possibly even thought about a preferred scent or a seasonal one."

Beckett fights a smile at the suggestion before the two of them start to have a back and forth.

With that, the other group, absent of you and James, continues their search for Milton while conversing some to break up the dark mood.