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Derek's Work => Fan Works => Fan Fiction => Topic started by: Nexiras on April 07, 2019, 06:44:42 AM

Title: Skulduggery Pleasant: A Completely Unnecessary Adventure (Nex's fanfic)
Post by: Nexiras on April 07, 2019, 06:44:42 AM
Welcome to my first fanfic! Will update with the following chapters and of course this chapter may be revised in the future. Starring my first OC's: Chrona and Kosmo


Chapter One

The bars snapped shut and Thurid Guild fell backwards onto his cell bed. Chrona clapped her hands and brushed them off. “Well, that sorts that out, then.”
Guild looked out through the bars with tired eyes. Defeated. “Fine. So I get to rot away here after all.”
Kosmo looked up from his phone. We should go, he thought. In a bit, replied Chrona. She cleared her throat. “What changed your mind?”
“I’m sorry?” asked Guild.
“Why did you want to escape? I read the official reports. Skulduggery Pleasant himself testified that you were willing to serve your sentence for your hideous crimes. Whatever they were.”
“Framing some dude for the assassination of some other dude,” said Kosmo.
“Yes,” said Chrona, “thanks. So you handed yourself in. But the first chance you get to escape, you take it. I don’t understand. Explain.”
Guild shrugged. “You’re more convinced before entering prison. You think you’re doing the right thing and that this is what you deserve. That changes the longer you’re in here, when you’re actually cut off from your magic …” He shivered and dropped his gaze. Chrona pursed her lips, disappointed. She’d hoped for something juicer. Oh well.
Kosmo gave her a sympathetic pat on the back of her mind, but he was getting impatient.
Chrona scanned her checklist, crossing off items with crisp, straight lines. Then she pointed the pencil at Guild. “Final question. Who’s Tarot?”
Guild scoffed. “What?”
“You heard me.”
“Tarot. Like the cards. Who is he?”
“Don’t know him.”
“No, we don’t know him. You do, and you’re gonna tell us.”
Guild sighed. “I don’t even know who the hell you are. You put me back in prison, so I’m guessing you’re the ‘good guys’. But you don’t look like Sanctuary agents, so why would I tell some pretentious vigilantes confidential Sanctuary information? Do I look stupid?”
“Yeah,” Chrona replied, “but that’s not the point. Wait, I don’t look like Sanctuary lot?” She straightened her suit jacket, genuinely offended.
Focus, Kosmo reminded her.
“Are you working with the skeleton?” Guild asked.
“Skulduggery? Nah, never met him. I want to, though. Do you think he’ll sign my shirt? Who’s Tarot, by the way?”
Guild scowled. “Leave me.”
“Oh fine,” Chrona said, rolling her eyes. “Nice talking with you, but there’s a war going on outside anyway. We’re just gonna, like, check in on that.” Guild grunted and lay down on the cold, stiff mattress. The Twins walked off towards the prison entrance, leaving the former Grand Mage lying in his cell bed.


Outside, Kosmo yawned.
Bored now. What next?
We’re gonna save the world, my dude.
Nice. How?
With sunshine and happiness.

They got to the car. The outside of it was unremarkably average – which was normal for a sorcerer’s car. The inside, however, was also depressingly average. It wasn’t decked out with super high-tech hidden features, ejector seats or even a somewhat powerful engine. Sometimes the left indicator didn’t work. Kosmo had taken affection to the little city car and nicknamed it ‘Betty’. Chrona’s nickname for it usually contained a few choice swear words.
Do you think he knew who Tarot was, or was he just bluffing? asked Chrona, getting in on the driver’s side.
Kosmo fell into the passenger seat. I don’t know.
What do you know?
Not much.
I figured.

Kosmo sighed. I mean, either he’s a great actor or he was being honest.
Chrona started the engine on the third try and, cursing, pulled out of the parking space onto the busy road. Guild doesn’t strike me as the type to take drama classes, thought Chrona.
No, but maybe he’s just a good liar.
That’s more like it.

They wormed their way through the small roads until they finally reached the motorway. Betty kept up pretty well with the pace of the other cars. Kosmo grinned. Chrona rolled her eyes.
Anyway, he should know about Tarot, he was Grand Mage a the time, Kosmo added. That’s true, replied Chrona, we should go back and hit him until he tells us. Kosmo was on his phone again. Or we could just ask him politely … , he added hopefully.
They decided not to turn around, however, and continued on the motorway for half an hour until they reached a small town on the coast of Ireland. They left the piece of junk that was Betty in a tiny alley between some shops and walked to the shore. It was cold here, and windy. The great gusts from the sea ruffled Kosmo’s curly red hair. Chrona’s suit jacket flapped in the wind but she didn’t mind because it made her feel cool, like she was in an action movie. Kosmo ignored her. Chrona grinned. “You look grumpy!” she shouted at him.
“Why are we yelling?” he shouted back.
“Because it’s windy!”
“But we don’t need to yell!”
“But it’s fun! Wanna take a picture?”
Kosmo shrugged and Chrona took a grinning selfie while Kosmo smiled placidly in the background and the waves of the sea gave the image a contrastingly calm look. Nice, thought Chrona, I’ll send this to my friends.
You don’t have any friends.
Shut up.

They walked along the sea until they reached the pub on Chrona’s checklist. They entered into the din of friendly chatter and a TV in the corner of the ceiling. Chrona went straight to the bartender while Kosmo put his hands in the pockets of his hoodie and looked around. It was a nice little place, he had to admit. The smell was homely and didn’t reek too much of alcohol – more of people coming in after a day’s work and spilling their lives on the tables. You’re quite the poet, aren’t you? came Chrona’s thoughts, drifting over while she chatted with the bartender. Kosmo ignored her and chose a table. He looked out of the window at the view of the stark cold sea and the vast sky. Pale blue pastels peppered with white clouds and grey rocks. Cool.
Chrona came back carrying a beer and a lemonade. “Are you done brooding?” she asked. “I’m not brooding, I’m … appreciating, “Kosmo replied with grace, taking the lemonade while Chrona sipped her beer, amused.
We should keep the important thoughts in our heads, though, he added.
Naturally, Chrona thought. I hope you were following my conversation with the bartender back there.
No, Kosmo thought happily.
Typical. So, I spoke to the bartender. She hasn’t seen any idiots wearing a trench coat in the area recently.
Kosmo played with the curly straw in his glass. Guy calls himself ‘Tarot’, of course he’d wear a trench coat. Is that really the only thing we know about him?
So the fate of the world rests on whether or not we can find a douche called Tarot and our only clues are that he wears a trench coat, he may or may not have been to this pub, once, in the last weeks and is somehow connected to a very high-profile and secret ‘incident’ when Thurid Guild was Grand Mage.
He sipped his lemonade. It was a bit sour but he didn’t mind. Chrona did.
First of all, she thought, that tastes like crap. Secondly, who wears a trench coat nowadays? He can’t be that hard to find. We’ll do a bit more snooping and–
The pub door opened and a man with sunglasses and a trench coat walked in, saw them – and froze.