Feb. 21st, 2014

platedlizard: (pic#753561)
but I'm working at a place that has lj blocked, but they don't know about dreamwidth lol.

anyway, have some Psy/Changeling fanfic. Slash, because this series needs some slash imo.

Erin sat straight, his posture consciously Psy-perfect. He tried to empty his mind of thought, visualizing still water, drifting clouds, distant mountains and rain. Anything that might calm his churning emotions and mask his broken-Silence. Nothing worked.

Beside him on the bullet train his mother sat in icy perfection. Not a twitch or a flicker of excess motion passed through her despite the swaying of the train as it sped toward San Francisco. Even after three years Erin still hadn't gotten used to it, it was as if her soul had been sucked away by the Center leaving behind an empty shell. She stared straight ahead, oblivious to the changeling family sitting across from them. Erin kept his gaze lowered, so as to not accidently challenge the predatory male. Probably a leopard, although wolves also frequented the city by the bay. He could feel the families' predatory minds, as slick and hot as well-sharpened knives pressing against the tender flesh of his brain. He wasn't supposed to of course, to most Psy changelings were naturally shielded, their minds simply too different to manipulate or read without tremendous effort.

To most Psy. To Erin they were like open books, easy to read and vulnerable to intrusion, as if they weren't shielded at all. It was an ability he had guarded carefully for most of his life. Stronger, more powerful Psy would seek to control him if they knew, and the changelings would kill him. Erin had no intention of becoming either a pawn or weapon.

The changeling male glared at him over the head of a toddler curled protectively in his lap. Erin was aware of the mother breast-feeding and infant, and he wondered what had made the family decide to travel with such young children--predatory changelings were notoriously over-protective.

You don't need to worry about me, he wanted to say to the changelings. Pure-Psy hunts us too.

His mother's organizer dinged softly and she answered it, her movements neat and precise. "Larsen has agreed to meet us at the station," she said, her words as precise as her movement. She spoke as if she were speaking of a business associate, not a potential roommate.

"Good," he said, and went back to shoring up his eroding shields. He hoped that Anthony Larsen wasn't a changeling, he wasn't sure he could he could handle the pressure.

It was illegal to filter housing ads by race, however. And it wasn't like they had a lot of options, housing prices being what they were. He just had to hope that he could find a solution soon, before his deteriorating shields took all his choices away.


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February 2014

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