terrorcotta

Untitled Part 1

# The air was not sharply winter but an easy breath over Austria's turbulent rooftops, inside were silent dull lights. Like the flickering of a candle, a convoy of police cars detoured to chase the winding street, murmuring a siren. Before its turning wheels tired the weary engine of a sports car, flaunting to the newer taxis its age sputtered and choked. People walking with the current were not so amused at their adjacent vehicles. Pushing its sea, the agitation fuelled a soon to be stampede. But beyond the surging of the mass, (morally at least) Harper's companion slipped into a jog against the slow runway, necks crowed for the mean and grain. cantankerously the lift in Leo's alley hauled his body up. Shimmering, the full lining burnished tawny brown flashed in constantly smooth wind.

# The wind picked up, tousling their odd hair and the burnished tawny brown coat Harper's companion wore. "This coat Is amazing, isn't it?" she said, admiring the way it shimmered in the dim light breathless. "Where did you get it?" the companion smirked. "Trade secret. But we say it's not the coat that makes us powerful." There was a nodded consensus, knowing what he meant. They did in fact share a connection that was beyond mere clothing or accessories. It was a power that came from within, a power that was possessed by both and used for own gain. As stood on the rooftop, looking out at the turbulent skyline, Leo, companion turned to her. "You know what they say, 'the higher the rooftop, the deeper the secrets', how coy."

# Harper chuckled, knowing the ownership of more secrets than most people have. Imagined a set of days to recall. "Indeed. And our secrets are... what give us our power." Leo smiled wryly. "Power is all perception. And we control how masses perceive us." Nodding again diffused into the night air, understanding that power was not something that could be measured or quantified. It was something that simply exuded, like an aura that surrounded. As they stood there in silence, the wind whipping around, Leo spoke again. "People always think that. Power comes from money or status. But really about confidence and influence. And whom I confide in."

# both knew that state of thinking was right. Their power came from ability to influence others, to make them see things at an odd, exhilarating perspective, but there was no mercy for trickery. The sirens below grew louder, and both turned to look down at the police cars below. "Looks like he's getting. closer," Harper said, feeling a thrill of excitement at the thought of the chase. her companion smirked. "Let them come. We have the power to handle anything a car can throw at a rooftop." And with that, a tall stand was made, stood tall on the rooftop, and mist of whim and sight radiated out into the turbulent night air. And then it hit Leo, the sublime and imperfect were only what life could throw at him and not the other way around. Towards Harper A brave newspaper from a gust of wind fluttered at height, this height was a spectacle glanced over for a mere change of weather in the same vicinity. It stated to her ignorance in nature and the will of winds so high, she rebalanced herself on the rooftop as Leo tucked into the ambience, and read the inscription of printers'-blood. "The grave of the famed local baker known for his arts was robbed of some matter...A terracotta stag..."

# after this was retailed aloud the two trailed off into the depths of minds: from the lengthy-nailed coffin he deserved, for the perseverance of such a sad rest. Harper turned to her companion, their face shocked, slightly frozen in a moment of discovery he had not yet laid eyes upon, "We gotta go look out to see what has been going on, this is nothing of a trend to the streets, this happens, but, but nothing changes, so something must have changed for it to go so under the radar and be called just a robbery by some creature from this city." He read Harper's face, as others did but so well that he knew how much the inexplicable dullness of the article came to her. "We must make a way down." Leo complimented the use of the fire escapes of the grimy city and hurried down them without a second to lose; coat flapping in the- "Wait. If this doesn't make sense, we can't do as others would in such a scenario, we must wait and take head, walking as the athlete does to their stand, slyly but with tremendous outcome in the form of the sheer mindset of letting your legs carry you, intentions carry you." Their intentions carried them next, fled on foot to the famed bakery titled "the terracotta stag ."