#☆ || DROP THE MASK — FAUST ANSWERS. }

[waraxarcana]

An imperceptible stiffening in Hawkins' shoulders occurred when Mr. 3 picked up one of his precious cards before he forced himself to relax. He must not jeopardize his plan over protectiveness of his cards. At the very least, the artist touched them carefully, with an artist's appreciation and reverence rather than the buffoons who might try to snatch them thinking they were being funny or looking to provoke him. Because if three things forced Hawkins to drop his stoic mask over, it was threatening his cards, Faust, and his High Priestess.

Still, Mr. 3 was not threatening, so the Magician remained outwardly calm, nothing hinting at his instinctive unease besides a slight tapping of his steepled fingertips together.

"Yes, there is indeed a spotlight shining brightly upon your captain. Drawing attention. Shifting focus. Obfuscating everyone around him. A captain should be comfortable with all eyes on him. Especially one who wishes to become Pirate King."

The tension he felt disappeared when Mr. 3 handed his card back, and Hawkins managed to keep himself from snatching it back, remaining cool and collected in appearance. With the assassin's agreement to form a partnership, as well, Hawkins once again was fully able to relax. "Yes, I did know your answer, though I'm pleased that you did not attempt to resist fate. Thus, I foresee this as a very rewarding partnership for both of us."

Shuffling the Two of Pentacles back into his deck, he set his cards aside to take another long sip of tea. Things were going as he had hoped. Now it was time to ensure the contract was set in stone. "To ensure that, let's discuss the details. Starting with your desired payment. Do you prefer berri and treasure, or something more unique? I presume you wish to stay with Buggy the Clown for the moment. At least, doing so will make your task far simpler. But as you mentioned the fool's luck running out, I can offer you a potential future place upon my crew, and my protection regardless. Once you have completed your mission, of course."

@waraxarcana

At the swift of the tarot cards, Mr 3’s attention was caught; yes— rationality was what steered Galdino’s actions through his life, however he was still pretty much superstitious as any other soul. In times of need, the gods of his homelands were the only ones to seek help and by the same thrust; he attentively listened to the meaning.

From what he gathered, these were easy to find out—but for now, skepticism would be left aside. As the following information leads the conversation back to its pivotal focus. Now that was not something that could easily be guessed, especially since they weren’t close to each other. The precision impressed Mr 3, even sending a stern chill down his spine

“ Precisely. Wanted, As in the past, ga ne. ” Mr 3’s grins grew wider as he hovered over the card. Picking it between fingers, admiring its intricate design. To think a simple thing would say so much about himself. “ Experience taught me the correct fit for my abilities. Being in someone's shadow is way more comfortable—especially a blinding and obnoxious one. ” Which was one of the reasons Buggy's presence helped so much, besides his undying luck.

He held up the card back at the blond. “ With that impeccable accuracy, you must know my answer by now, don’t you? ” The artist nodded, leaving his hands over his knees as they crossed. “ In impeccable timing as well, I was wondering on what to do when Buggy’s luck runs out, ga ne. Fu ha ha! I anticipate a rewarding partnership. Mr Hawkins. ”

[crowtrinkets]

A World Knowing You Aren’t in it

Prompt request from @mouselungs​ 

*forehead kiss* ty for that sweet sweet angst 

I wrote this at 1-2 am after watching a sad movie so uh yea I take my angst v seriously lol

Gender Neutral Pronouns for Apprentice, He/They Pronouns for Asra

Word Count: 2,208

I push my way into my shop, unwrapping my scarf from around my face. I take a deep slow breath of the not-so-fresh air mixed with dust and magical goods long since past their expiration. Wearing face coverings, just to go shopping in the market is necessary but I can't help but miss the days I could breathe in the fresh scents of spices and my favorite pumpkin bread without worry of getting sick.

"Asra? I'm back," I call out. I hear thumping traveling from the second floor and down the steps. A cloud of fluffy white hair pokes out from behind a curtain.

"Welcome home," he gives me a warm smile to which I return with my own.

"They were out of potatoes, something about merchants being scared of trade with Vesuvia," I follow them back up the stairs carrying my basket, sparse with groceries.

"I can't say I blame them," Asra mumbles to themself. I only hum in response, not wanting to push this topic further.

Asra has talked about leaving many times, but we had yet to do so, if we had the means we could but, there's no money in magic that can't heal a plague. Placing my basket on the counter of our kitchenette I pull out the food items I bought. Asra snatches an apple and bites into it but then grimaces.

"This apple is soft, like it's been left out," he goes to throw out the apple but I catch his arm.

"Don’t throw it out, if they're too soft I could make a cobbler or something out of them," taking the apple from Asra's hand I place it in a bowl with the other fruit I purchased.

"Oh, but they were out of sugar… maybe they're sweet enough on their own?" I mumble to myself.

"There's no need to go back out just for sugar, I'm sure we'll manage without it," Asra says with a smile that doesn't reach their eyes. They grab the lettuce I pulled from the basket out of my hand.

"Why don't I put these away while you go take a bath hmm? Wash the city air off of you," I give Asra a short nod and head off to the bathroom to wash up.

Suddenly feeling the weight of my day, running all the possible errands I can at once, so I am exposed less to the outside. I grab a towel from our tiny linen closet and pass by to give Faust chin scratches.

"Have you been bundled up here all day?" I question. She only responds by slithering closer so she can lean into my scratches. Her movement causes a blanket to fall, revealing a pile of books under it. My curiosity is piqued and I pick one up to read its cover. "Nopal Desert" it reads. I pick a map that was underneath it, depicting the better part of Vesuvia and surrounding territories. Nopal circled in ink. I hear Asra humming while he opens and closes the cabinets in the other room. I elect to bring it up after my bath.

The water is hot, almost too hot for my liking, but its burn soothes me in a way. Making me feel something other than the heavy burden that lays on the whole city's shoulders. I let myself sink down until the water cradles my head. Curling up so my whole body is submerged. I stare at the ceiling, watching the steam from the bath slowly rise, allowing condensation to sit on the wooden beams. I didn't bother to open the window so the bathroom could stay dry. I'll do that afterward. The water cups my ears, muffling the already quiet streets outside. My mind travels back to the books and maps I saw earlier. Was Asra trying to get us to leave? I explained in the past that I can't afford to pay rent on my shop and pay rent in a whole new area. Vesuvia is unsafe but the shop is my home, my lively hood. I can't give it up. I lie there, pondering and contemplating until the water has become lukewarm. My body aches after laying in the tub for far too long. After drying off my body and getting dressed I exit the bathroom, not bothering to stop my hair from dripping all over me. 

I walk towards my bed, finding the books and maps, untouched, and staring at me. I let out a frustrated sigh and collect the items.

I walk into the kitchen to find Asra nursing a cup of tea, and gazing out the window. They haven't noticed me yet. His eyes stare longingly out at the night sky. Sad and distant. I quietly approach and gently place the items on the table. Asra looks up at me in surprise. Neither one of us talks for a while. I clear my throat.

"What are these?" I motion to the map with the large black circle around the words that very obviously do not say Vesuvia. Asra places his cup down and fully faces me.

"Well I thought we could… stay there, I've heard the plague isn't present there and we could go, we could be safe and not have to worry about wearing face coverings just to go shopping," Asra's demeanor becomes meek the more he talks. I let out a sigh and collapse into the nearest chair.

"Asra I told you, I can't afford to keep my shop if I'm not here to work in it,"

"I can help you!" Asra says, straightening a little. "I-I've been painting masks to raise money, and we could go to Nopal for a few months, I could sell masks out there and you can have a makeshift shop in the desert," Asra reaches for my hand, taking it and rubbing his thumb across my knuckles. I give him a tired look.

"Asra, it's not that I doubt that you couldn't help me pay, it's just… Vesuvia is my home, our home, and I can't just leave at the drop of a hat like you," Asra winces and pulls away.

"Who knew you thought so little of me," he mumbles. I mentally kick myself for my choice of words.

"I'm sorry that’s not what I meant," I bring my head into my palm and lean my elbow on the table.

"What I'm trying to say is this is my home and I want to protect it so… I've decided I want to study medicine, to help with the plague," I look up to meet Asra's eyes. Their face pales and they sit back in their chair.

"Oh," is all he manages to say. I sit up fully and bring my hands into my lap, wringing them nervously together.

"I could use my magic to help too, and I want to be able to help the people, just like I did when I had people coming by regularly for magical ailments," I try to say something, anything to get Asra to stop looking at me the way he is. Scared, confused, frustrated, maybe even a little mad. He suddenly rises, his chair squeaking along the floor as it's pushed back.

"Asra please," I say barely above a whisper. Asra walks over the kitchenette and paces before turning to me, expression full of pain.

"That… That’s a terrible idea," he says. I suddenly feel taken aback.

"What wanting to help?" I say. Asra's face twists.

"You'll get sick, you'll… You will get hurt, you won't be safe!" he exclaims, starting to pace once again.

"There are people dying Asra I can't just sit around and let it happen! I want to do something, we can do something, we're both magicians!" I rise from my chair so I can fully face Asra as he frantically paces and runs his hands through his hair.

"How are we supposed to survive then, being exposed every day?" Asra looks me in the eye, his expression one of distress.

"Asra we're barely getting by as is," I motion to the bowl of fruit that I was organizing earlier. "The food isn't fresh, we have to go shopping all in one day so we don't risk exposure, and I am barely scraping by with my rent on the shop!" I let out an exasperated huff, folding my arms.

"I told you I would help you, I can sell masks, I can do fortune-telling just not here," Asra enunciates that last word by sharply pointing to the ground to make their point.

"I want to help, Asra… I want to be here," I shift awkwardly in place looking down at my feet. A lump begins to form in my throat, making it hard to breathe. Asra approaches me and places his hands on my forearms in an attempt to soothe me.

"Please, we can't stay here, let's just leave to where it's safe," He pleads, barely above a whisper. I slowly shake my head. Asra leans into me, trying to look into my eyes. His violet eyes, specked with tears in the corners.

"Why don't I help the people here? A-and you can stay home and make money off your painted masks," I say meeting his eyes.

"No, no no no," Asra begins to speak over me. He pulls away and faces his back to me, running his hands across his face.

"Asra I can't force you to stay here but you can't force me to leave," I say making my voice stern, hoping he understands my point. Asra quickly whips around tears falling down his face.

"Then how am I supposed to protect you!" he shouts. My breath hitches and I take a step back, my calves hitting the chair I was previously sitting on. The room grows eerily silent from his out burst.

"You can't protect me from everything, especially not this," I say, my own tears threatening to fall.

"Yes, I can! If you would just listen to me and leave! We could be safe," he approaches me, hands reaching out to me. I put my own hand up, stopping him from getting closer.

"Asra, I've made up my mind about this I'm not going anywhere," my chest aches, I want to leave with him, I want to leave because I'm scared. But I know I can help these people and I can't let my fears stop me.

"Please, you'll die," his voice cracks.

"If it saves the lives of even just a few people, then maybe was worth it,"

"No, you are too important to me!" they plead.

"Asra I have made up my mind! Nothing you can say will change it!" my volume begins to rise. Asra pleads my name and approaches once again gently grabbing my hands.

"Please it will kill you,"

"Asra..." my heart pounds in my chest.

"I can't live in a world knowing you aren't in it!"

"No Asra!" tears form in my eyes and my voice starts to crack.

"You will die-"

"Then death is better than this life we are living!" I shout. I didn't mean to. But I became so overwhelmed my temper flared-up. Asra takes a step back, releasing my hands.

"Is that how you feel," he says. I can't bring myself to answer, the lump in my throat has grown 3 times in size, swallowing my voice. "Very well," Asra turns away from me. Grabbing various clothing items as he goes. He disappears around a corner and I can hear him rummaging. I take in a painful deep breath. Wiping my tears as they fall. Asra comes back in with a bag, shoving items inside angrily, my eyes are too cloudy to fully see what he's doing but I can tell.

He's packing to leave.

"Asra," I croak. "Where are you going?" my voice comes out pathetically, as I try to compose myself. But my heart races in my chest. Asra ignores my question and continues to put items in multiple bags. All his clothes, his trinkets, their books. Anything they can carry.

"Asra please," I drag my feet as I try to follow him, but I can't stop the waterfall of tears escaping me. 

Asra finally stops in the middle of the room, passing me. He has multiple bags on both shoulders. I stand at the hallway entrance and watch him. Faust quickly slithers out from behind me, Asra crouches allowing her to climb up his arm. He takes his hat off the hook and places it on his head. I stumble towards him reaching out.

"Asra I'm… I'm so-" their eyes meet mine, cold, angry, pained. I stop in my tracks

"This is the grave you made yourself, I will not be there to watch you get buried," he says. His voice cracking. Without another word, Asra turns and goes down the stairs and into my shop. 

I can only gawk in silence, in disbelief that he actually left. The wall-shaking slam of the door breaks me from my shock. I grip the fabric of my top, just over my heart. Feeling as though it has broken in two. I sink to the floor and sob, harder than I ever have because a piece of my heart has left me.

[ethanharli]

Requested: Nah.

Pairing(s): Asra x Top Male Reader

Warning(s): Some Angst, Flashbacks, Mentions of heartbreak, Sudden confession, Cliffhanger, Long, Sister Nadia.

A/n- I brought this over from my Wattpad, and I edited it a bit but this is the longest One-Shot I've ever made, just fifty words away from three thousand :")).

_______________

A frustrated groan slipped past my lips as I fumbled with the sleeves of my costume, it may sound silly but its true. I refuse to wear anything that could reveal my torso, besides my face of course but that's only because its not covered in ink. Now don't get me wrong, the art adoring my body is nothing but beautiful, yet some of its a bit much for the public eye, and I hate attention. Guess Muriel and I are the same in that regard. After adjusting the sleeves I slipped on my rings and emerald necklace that clung tightly around my throat, which didn't bother me in the slightest bit as I drag my pierced tongue over my bottom lip. Finishing up with a few things I quickly locked up my house and headed on my way to the palace, Nadia had invited me over for the Masquerade this year since the last one ended with Lucio and the Devil trying to take over.

I really have to admire that apprentice, their magic is quiet fascinating. With a small smirk I slipped on my wolfs mask, nothing original but the black and vibrant neon of purple and green helping it stand out, even if only by the slightest. The journey to the palace was quite fun, watching people light up fireworks and drink to their hearts content without a worry in the world. Yet it was a whole new world once I entered the palace gates, making my way towards the ball room in hopes to run into my sister, but Nadia is nowhere to be found. "Should've expected as much, she is the Countess after all" I muttered with a proud smile, if only my familiar where here to keep me company but sadly having a grey wolf in this crowd isn't such a good idea, poor thing would be trampled despite her large size.

Taking a glass of wine I sipped it slowly, enjoying the bubbly feeling of it going down my throat. Yet a slither around my ankle caught my attention, and I froze at the sight of a familiar snake, looking up at me with their cute tilted head. "Friend!" Faust cheered, happily slithering up my body to rest on my shoulders, "Yes Faust, it's good to see you again" A pained smile forced at my lips, scratching softly under Faust's chin. If Faust's here then Asra and his apprentice must be close by, I should've expected as much. "Miss you" My heart tightened at the words, forcing the breath out my lungs painfully, and here I thought I could enjoy the Masquerade without running into anyone else, but I guess even an over packed Masquerade can't hide me from them. "I missed you too Faust-" My words were cut off by a familiar voice, merely a couple feet behind me, yelling for the beautiful creature wrapped around my shoulders.

"Im sorry Faust but I really should be leaving, please don't tell Asra I was here alright?" I asked as worry started to pool in the pit of my stomach, however Faust simply tilted her head, watching me curiously. Nevertheless I made a slow pace to the exit, not wanting to rise any sort of suspicion as Asra yells a bit louder. And there he is, my savior. Putting on a small smile I took a drink from a waiters tray, walking up to Julian without seeming any bit out of place, then once the right moment hit I brushed my shoulder against his and shrugged Faust onto him, not once turning back to look at them. However I knew I wasn't out in the clear just yet since a pair of eyes followed me as I left the room.

Being out in the hall felt a lot better then being so close to him. Especially when I'm not ready to face him just yet, hell I don't even think I have the power to look at him without freezing up, how stupid of me to think I could come back here. "[Y/n]?" The sound of Nadia's voice finally got me to relax a bit, letting the tension in my shoulders drop, "Hey Sis, it's been a while" I smiled down at her, watching as her eyes soften before pulling me into a tight embrace that I gladly returned. "Where'd you go? You told me that you were going to talk to Asra after what happened with Lucio and the Devil but it was only him that came back, he said he didn't know where you ran off to and when I tried to ask what happened he'd never answer!" Her crimson eyes glare up at me as they slowly fill with tears that I quickly brushed away.

"Its okay Nadi, Im back now and I plan to stay, I missed my little sister way to much to be gone for so long" I chuckled, trying to lighten up the mood even only for a second, before she looks at my costume with not very well hidden disgust. "You've really never had an eye for fashion have you?" She sighs, taking my hand and dragging me down the hall where Portia was standing. Once her eyes met mine her face lit up in realization, "[Y/n]! You're back!" She jumped up to hug me, which I returned with a ruffle of her long hair.

"Portia could you please get my dear brother to one of the guest rooms so he can change?" Nadi smiled and Portia couldn't have answered any happier, "Yes milady! Now c'mon [Y/n] lets get you a new costume!" She cheered, dragging me away by the sleeve of my shirt. Somewhere in the back of my mind I knew this wasn't going to end well, and by the time I was pushed in the room with a new set of clothing I knew I was right. The clothing was way to revealing for my liking, even though the color and fabric made me look elegant and right at home. The top exposed my arms and most of my chest, the 'V' stopping right above my waist which the pants hugged tightly, yet the rest of it was baggy except the bottom of it, which also hugged my ankles nicely.

But my tattoos and scars were out in the open. The skulls, flowers, and chains that decorate my body glowed a faint blue color, as if cheering that they were finally free from my always concealed clothing.

I didn't want to wear it, every part of my mind was screaming to tear it off but I couldn't. My sister picked this out for me and this is her party, I'll do it for her if not for myself. Sliding my mask back on I headed out the room, looking down at Portia with a nervous smile as she stared at the art in wonder, "I never knew you had these!" She pouted, looking as If I had betrayed her somehow. I could only reached out and pat her head, trying to ignore the eyes that locked onto me, "Im not very fond of them, so I always hid them, Im sorry for not telling you sooner." She merely rolled her eyes and smiled at me before realization yet again broke on her face, "I need to go tell the rest you're here! Stay put!" My eyes widened as I tried to stop her, but she was already out of reach before I could, and the slithery presence was back at my feet.

"Friend!"

Fucking hell.

At that moment I felt the fight to run away slowly drain from me, I knew I couldn't avoid him forever, no matter how hard I tried. Even so, with what resistance was left in me I headed towards the garden with Faust resting peacefully on my shoulders, and stayed put by the fountain, letting my eyes flutter shut for a mere moment.

_____

My palms started to sweat as I looked down into those mesmerizing lavender eyes that watched me with an amused glint, "Asra I-" The words got caught in my throat for the millionth time now, and even I was getting impatient with myself. But can you blame me? Asra looked so majestic under the moonlight, with the stars that practically glowed in his eye's, I don't think I've ever thought it was possible to feel so relaxed and intimidated at the same time.

"[Y/n], are you okay?" He asked, his voice barley above a whisper as he slowly reached up, softly brushing his fingers against my cheek. A flutter in my chest caused the chains on my body to recoil slightly, and thankfully he didn't notice the change, "No, I just can't hold it in anymore Asra" My hand clenched tightly on my sleeves, nearly causing them to rip while Asra brushed a lock of hair of of my face. "Hold in what?" He smiled, but my eyes drifted to his chest, looking where the mark on his heart is hiding, causing me to reluctantly pull away from his touch.

It was a simple friendly gesture he's always done to calm me down, to bring me back from whatever clouded my thoughts. So when I pulled away he reached out again, slower this time, as if any rushed movement would send me away. "Asra stop" He looked a bit shocked when I grabbed his wrist, but my grip was gentle, cause I'm more afraid of hurting him than anyone else. However the negative thoughts practically swallowed my mind whole as I rejected his magic from flowing into me. The mark on his chest was the only thing I could look at, cause it reminds me everyday that he gave up some of his heart for his apprentice, to bring them back. Jealousy truly is a cruel thing.

"Nevermind, it was foolish of me to think I even had a chance" I whispered with a bitter chuckle, taking a step back I crossed my arms, turning my broken gaze towards the sky. "Forget it, just go back to your apprentice, they need you more than I do" I don't know why my words came out laced in such malice and sorrow, but they did, and that seemed to earn a glare back from him. "What's wrong with you? Ever since you found out about my deal its like all you want to do is run away from me and push me away, if you have something to say to me then go ahead and say it, but do not drag them into this."

The chain around my neck tightened, slowly crushing at my windpipe as I clenched my fists and smiled softly to myself. I knew I'd regret what I did next, I knew it would weigh on me forever, I knew it would cause me much more pain then it did right then, but I did it anyway. Ill have to thank Ilya if this works, putting on my best face I turned towards Asra and scoffed, tilting my head a bit, like I usually do when pissed off, even though this is just a lovely facade. "Don't even bother, its not like you'd care anyways, would you? All you care about is that apprentice of yours, you even gave up part of your heart for them" I let the words flow, nearly letting the tears pool in my eyes when I spat them out.

"Is that really what you think?" He hissed, knuckles turning white from how tightly he was grasping his sleeves, but I didn't let myself falter under his gaze. "Asra I don't have to think it when I know its true, we've known each other since we were kids, you can't fool me" I scoffed, glaring back into his lavender eyes, keeping that gaze was a lot harder then I thought it would be. Before he could speak up I made sure to cut him off, "You love 'em, that's the only reason you'd do it right? Because you love them? Let me guess, you couldn't live without them could you?" I rolled my eyes, looking off to my left, practically feeling his breath hitch for a moment, confirming what I needed to know.

Im sorry Asra.

You don't have to forgive me.

Because I highly doubt these chains will go anywhere, I can never be free. Even with you by my side, the one person that keeps me together, the one person that I'd risk everything for.

Im so sorry.

"Just leave already, its not like you want to be here anyways right? So just leave me alone, I don't want you here."

_____

I don't remember much after that, but I do know he left, and I was left alone to wallow in my own despair. The chains got tighter over the year, so tight that the only thing keeping me breathing is all the techniques I've learned, and the fact I learned how to hold my breath for a long while. A few tears slip past my [E/c] eyes, that Faust happily wipes away with her tail, rubbing her face against my cheek, "Friend!" She smiles, curling against me, it felt so good to have her around again. Even if this'll be the last time.

The chains tighten a slight fraction, forcing me to hold my breath. "[Y/n]?" My body tensed at how my name rolled off his lips, it felt like a distant dream, like this isn't actually happening, but one look at him and I know its real. My god has he always looked so gorgeous? Or am I going crazy? Probably both. Once [E/c] met Lavender I knew I was done, his hairs pushed back like last year though the mask kinda looks the same, with only a few added touches, and his costume definitely gets him to stand out above the rest, just a beautiful array of bright colors clashing against his mixed skin, it hugs his figure perfectly. He looks like a god amongst the light of the fountain.

"Its me" I sighed out, reluctantly turning my gaze back to my feet. I couldn't help the surprise when he moved in front of me, placing both hands on my cheeks, looking into my eyes with such relief that I could hardly believe it. His touch sent shivers down my spine, slowly I started to breathe again as the chains retract a bit, I had clearly forgotten how revealing my clothes are, cause once the chains pulled back Asra's eyes shifted to them.  "How long have you had these?" He asked, trailing his hands down to trace the marking with a soft touch, "Asra wait-" Yet the mark appears, the same one he has, just mine glowed a faint blue in the center of my chest.

His eyes widened seeing the mark, keeping his eyes on it as if it were to attack at any moment, "You've never had chains, its always been your skulls and flowers, is it because of this? Why didn't you tell me about this?" He looked hurt, the same hurt in his eyes that he had a year ago when we last talked.

"What was your deal?"

Oh how I wanted to tell him, but the chains tightened at the thought, yet I pushed through it, Im tired of lying, I'm tired of keeping everything in, Im tired of it all, "That I couldn't be open anymore, that I wouldn't be able to speak my mind freely like I once did." A small cough ripped out my throat as a blue glow tried to burn past the chains, failing miserably. "What? Why?" He looked stunned, I don't blame him, I've always been one to speak my mind and tell everyone how I'm feeling, to be honest to myself and them without a care about what others thought.

But..

"I was scared, there's something I've always wanted to say, but I never could because I've always been so afraid about what would happen after, what if it went wrong? What if I messed up? What if I said something wrong? What if you-" My mouth snapped shut as quickly as it could, now I certainly can't avoid this, cause those lavender eyes stare at me with such intensity I might just burn away. His hands slowly moved up to my neck, letting his magic aid in pulling the chain away from my neck, allowing me to breath freely. "What about me?" He asked softly, keeping his gaze fixed on mine as my hands unconsciously travel to his hips.

I guess it's now or never..

Building what up whatever courage I had left, I pulled Asra against my chest, using one hand to push his mask out the way, before claiming his lips with mine.

[hanawrites404]

Wynne's Diary - Touch with Asra

@sweetalnazar

We were clearing out the shop today. Boxes filled with piles of aged magical books, masquerade masks and other important miscellaneous items were stuffed into the crates. Our home was full of countless varied and unique things you can ever imagine or guess of that we needed a separate day to sort the stuff out to what we might need in the future and keep it inside the shop, and then to things that we would not need unless for emergency purposes, which would rightfully be organised in the storehouse we had.

Me and my husband were raiding our shop, basically. Because one, it seemed like a detailed mission, and two, we were extremely tired and filthy from the dust the shop had amassed over time. We accidentally even demolished some of the spider's home webs while brushing so we had to carefully pick the spiders out and leave them outside on the lawn.

Poor arachnids.....they were so adorable and cute. I hope they find a better home soon. Though forming a web was never an easy job.

And so wasn't the task of clearing out such a relatively huge shop and stacking all the articles without damaging even a tinge of any material.

"Wynne, can you help me with this one?" My husband called me from inside the repository. His voice echoed through the walls of the room and reached my ears as a dusted my hands onto my apron and entered the dark room lit just by an orb of esoteric blue fire above.

"Is this the last one to be moved?" I placed my hands on my hips. Asra was crouched near the box as he rubbed his cheek to wipe out the dust and faced me, he had sweat on his brows and he looked pretty exhausted because......

We both had been working for hours. We started somewhere around midday and it's nightfall now.

"Yes...After this one, we can finally rest. I feel very thirsty and I could definitely use some of your lemonade" he huffed and ran his hand through his velvety white hair.

"Lemonade huh....sure. Let's get this over with" I took off the rubber band on my hair and retied it on into a small tail so that my hair doesn't impede much. I squatted down, and got hold of the edge of the box and gradually started to lift it with every strength I had.

Asra supported the other side of the box, and we both coordinated our steps to move the load together outside the storage room. I was not a lifter, and neither was Asra. We could have called Muriel over to help, but he was lying sick on the bed with Portia and Julian both aiding the giant man. So we agreed to not bother him and take the matters to our own ourselves.

It was our mart anyway, so we had to.

"Almost there!" Asra notified. I nodded and pulled in the air to exert the energy left in my arms. I walked patiently back, keeping a watch out to not bump with the other items on the floor and trip on my heel. Asra cautiously followed me, he rasped a bit and used his momentum to get a better grip of the end.

He knew that I was not much physically substantial, so he made sure to not let me take the heavier weight, but watching him take all the burden over himself just like how he always was, made me feel immensely culpable.

Asra was always like this. Votive, generous, selfless. These were very good traits in him, no doubt in that. But sometimes, he overdoes it, and that was not at all acceptable by me. He from time to time needs to know that his own self is as significant as everyone else he cared about. He needs to realize that at the end of the world, he would only have himself with him, and he better give a fuck about it sooner than repent it at later moments.

But.....I was not in the right niche to teach him such a lesson.

Because I wouldn't be the educator of this topic, I would be a student since there was hardly any difference in both of our sentiment towards our loved ones.

Votive, generous, selfless......

We both were a bunch of crackheads.

"Oof! Finally, everything is done. The shop barely changed, but at least it holds less weight than previously" Asra slumped onto the couch and caught his breath, his chest rhythmically rising and sinking with the teal pendant on his bosom.

Faust and Ichigo weren't home today. They both had gone to take a stroll around Vesuvia as we toiled. We didn't worry about both of them too much since they were proper grown-ups and can handle themselves faultlessly, unlike us both who can't even watch out for cobwebs and prevent ourselves to mercilessly annihilate them.

I still feel sad about them.......poor babies...

"Ahh...." I heard him groan and hold his shoulder.

"What's the matter?" I asked him.

"My shoulders ache a lot. My arms too. Looks like a overworked myself. They feel quite fatigued" he tried gearing his joints only to wince in discomfort.

"Ugh, don't aggravate it. That would make it worse. Relax your shoulders, and try to slowly roll them to get some movement" I instructed him sternly.

"I can't. They stiffened up. I cannot even properly move them without feeling a lot of stings" he complained to me, still grabbing onto his ailing shoulder.

I watched him cynically and shook my head, sighing and closing my eyes, rubbing my own furrowed brows. He was seriously acting like a whiny child crying over a tiny scratch. But despite my dubiety, I did not blame him. It was true he did a lot of work today. He shifted hefty stuff, helped me tidy up the inside of the storehouse and shelves along with the rest of the two-storeys, and also renovated the mattress, sheets and curtains with new and clean ones. I couldn't have done all of them without Asra, and I did owe him enough to alleviate him from his post-pain.

"Turn your back" I ordered him again.

"O-Oh.... alright" he did as I told him. I cracked my knuckles and trudged towards him and sat near him, facing his back.

"Take your shirt off," I told him next. He obeyed me and dropped the piece of clothing in front of him. I tenderly skimmed his back, caressing his spine and feeling the bumps of his vertebrate. My nails trailed along his tanned back and I felt his shivers reverberating through my finger pads. His skin was soft like the petals of blossoms and tempting to sense as a downy kitten's fur.

And he was even kissable as a child's rosy cheek.

I shifted a little closer to him, grasping his shoulders carefully in my hands and enclosing my fingers around his shoulder blades. I lightly applied pressure on my palms and squeezed his shoulders. Asra lightly grumbled in return, and I continued my work around that area and his neck. I handily massaged his tendons and muscles, untying all the tangles and applying the right amount of force as not to cause too much throb on him.

"Mmmahh.....Wynne....." He sizzled. It didn't sound like a wince of pain but of genuine contentment and pleasure. He finally let himself loose under my hands as he leaned back onto my shoulder, closing his eyes and moaning against my neck. I softly chuckled and laid a peck on his nose as I kept pummelling onto his other aching places.

I moved from his neck to his arms and shoulders, and I sensually kneaded his well-built limbs and fondled with his biceps in-between my fingers. I pressed every spot of his arms and started laying butterfly kisses upon his neck and below his ear. He lightly purred from my touch, succumbing to my soft seduction as I nibbled onto his ear, and my hand slid up from his chest to hold his chin and the other reached down to twiddle with his nipple.

"Ohhh...Wynne....." He bit his lip, his cheeks dusted pink from impulse.

"Yes, darling~?" I whispered into his ear and took the opportunity to bite on his earlobe and pull it faintly with my mouth.

"Aahhh! please.....more......I want more" he pleaded to me. I gazed into his eyes, they were clouded with submission and fervour. He wanted to keep up with this play of pinch and flirt with me, and he wanted himself to be under my mercy and decree till I break him to his brim by making him reach his peak ecstasy and orgasm.

And who would refuse such an offer?

Well, the answer is simple.

I would.

Before he could make any other move, I promptly pulled myself back and stood up on my feet as Asra landed back on the sofa with a thud.

"Pervert" was all I said before I made my way to the kitchen to fetch him the spiced lemonade he was craving ever since he finished his work, and a playful smirk was visible throughout on my lips. It's not that I didn't want to continue exciting him, I stopped because I want this to be on a day where no chore, nonentity, and no interference come in the middle. I wanted the day we make love to be untarnished, ripe and vehement, where no one coaxed to unnerve us.

As far as I can remember, Asra's face was priceless by the heckler finale I gave him. He was completely bamboozled and hoodwinked, and damn I loved it. The taunting was one of my greatest pastimes, and working it out on Asra was even more fun. Why do you ask? Because he always gives the most adorable and unparalleled ripostes than anyone I had ever known, and it was always mirthful at which I can chortle about for hours and never forget it ever in my life.

Maybe one such day will arrive when he would be fortunate enough to receive my full attention.....one day..........

And I'm desperately but patiently waiting for it.

[godstrayed]

　His gaze drops to the pen in Faust's hands. It's a strange sensation thinking they might be considering the same thing. The pen flips over in the coroner's hand and Hannibal ponders what it might be to take it by force. He could, he doesn't doubt —— but Faust is a rabid dog, one that would not roll and show his underbelly in a fight, Hannibal is unlikely to leave unscathed in such a tousle. He does wonder because the pen could easily hit the carotid artery, turning his neck into a fountain, spewing blood as much as they are spewing this façade of politeness between them. @corxner is doing considerable worser than he. He smiles, tight and amused, fingers drumming over his pants when the other puts his pen away. Good.

"We can change our skin, Mr. Maxwell, don't you think?" Hannibal asks finally, voice dropping and dark glee evident. "It's one of the most astounding essences about us mortals. We can shed our skin and experience a new metamorphism. I would think you would be keenly aware of that reality. You peel skin back for a living, Faust."

And Hannibal laughs then. Was Faust really a lamb led to slaughter? Or was he another wolf wearing a much more delicate skin to mask his insides? "Surely, you're more clever than to ask the devil of his Machiavellian plans. I am sure he is very tight-lipped." What did he expect for him to answer? Hannibal finally drops his gaze and turns his attention to straightening his clothes again, "These sessions are about you after all." ╱ continued.

[mnthpprt]

Chapter 49: Desperate Measures

[Sorry for the short chapter. My computer is broken and I can’t afford to get it fixed anytime soon, so I have been writing on my phone instead. In addition, life has gotten pretty busy lately and it will probably stay that way. I will still update whenever I can.]

Our laughter dies down when I hear a noise coming from the hallway. As usual, Arthur has managed to turn an awkward conversation into an opportunity to make my sides hurt. He truly has a talent for finding the humor in every situation.

“Was that a knock?” I pant. 

He simply shrugs, so I approach the door to open it. On the other side stands Sebastian, his fist up, ready to knock again. I immediately throw my arms around him, jumping on my toes to be able to reach his broad shoulders, but soon become overwhelmed by his scent.

“Nope, bad idea,” I say, pulling away. He tilts his head as he lets go. “Human,” I point at him, and then at myself, “hungry leech. You smell delicious, no offence.”

“None taken,” Sebastian smiles. “We can catch up later, le Comte wants to see you,” he informs me before moving out of the way. I nod and hurry out, followed by Arthur. “He’s in his study.”

We part ways in the hallway, the two men leaving together in the opposite direction. I arrive to find le Comte’s door wide open. I lean on the frame and knock to catch his attention.

“Bonjour” I playfully greet him, making him look up from a book.

“Welcome back, ma chérie,” he says, standing up. 

After we exchange two kisses on the cheek, he gestures toward the fireplace. I have been here enough times to know he wants me to sit, so make myself confortable on one of the armchairs as he does the same, across from me. 

“So... I know you lied about how the door works.” Le Comte looks worried for a second, but quickly regains composure. “Don’t worry, I get why you did it. I met a friend of yours,” I begin before extending my arm over my head. “About this much taller than me, red eyes, white hair?”

“Vlad is here? I had my suspicions, but I did not think he would have the nerve to show up in Paris,” he muses. “I take it you know about his plans, then.”

“Mhm. Did you know William is working for him?”

“No, I had no idea. I might have to have a word with him,” he adds sternly. “How did you find out?”

“The ball. He had introduced me to Salieri before, and seemed pretty amused by his misunderstanding,” I answer. “At the time I didn’t know who he was, but Antonio was convinced that Mozart and I were a couple. William just added wood to the fire.”

“I don’t understand, ma chérie. You still decided to go live with him?” he asks, confused.

“It started with me not wanting any of you to see me in that state... you know, practically feral, and all. And then I thought I could make something useful our of this little vacation,” I explain. “So I’ve been keeping an eye on him, seeing what I could find out. Which leads me to Vlad. I was introduced to him just a couple hours ago and found out about his plans to conquer the world or whatever. He was... charming,” I conclude sarcastically, rubbing my neck. Though the hand shaped marks have mostly faded, it is still sore from his strong grip.

In a manner completely uncharacteristic of him, le Comte pries my hand away, revealing the faint, finger shaped bruises on my neck. His face contorts into a mask of pure rage, his eyes growing darker, as he abruptly stands up and begins marching towards the door. Luckily, I manage to shoot up and catch the hem of his jacket as he walks past me.

“Sit the fuck down,” I order, pulling on his clothes. He glances at me, still looking furious, and I grab his arm and push him backwards onto his seat. “I am not done here.”

“Forgive me, Anaïs,” he mutters before taking a deep breath. That seems to calm him. “I could hardly contain myself when I saw you have been hurt.”

“It’s nothing, but thank you for caring,” I wave away his concern with a smile. “Anyway, he built his own door and traveled to the future, which horrified him so much he has now decided that humanity doesn’t stand a chance without vampire rule. But you probably already knew this.” le Comte nods slowly. “The point is, I figured out when exactly he traveled to. He ended up in the middle of World War Two. No wonder he’s traumatized,” I chuckle. 

“That explains a lot,” he says. “We have been friends for a very long time, Vlad and I. I’d say around a millennium, even. A couple centuries ago, he disappeared. When I met him again, he was... strange. He had changed,” he narrates. “He told me he had built his own door, and that it did not work properly. He also mentioned seeing the future. I believe that is when he started turning new vampires to achieve his goal.” The nostalgia in le Comte’s voice shifts to something akin to regret. “I tried to talk him out of it, to no avail, and we had a falling out. That was the last time I saw him.”

“We both know more about the future now, so maybe talking him out of it is still an option,” I chime in. “When he described his experience, I told him I was born long after that. I explained how much better things are in my time, and why his plan would never work, but he didn’t believe me. Comte, do you think he would keep his word, even after what he went through?” I suddenly ask.

“Vlad is many things, but he is not a liar,” he sombrely assures me. “I trust that aspect of him has not changed.”

“Good,” I smirk.

“What do you have in mind, ma chérie?” he inquires when I get up and make my way around his desk. On a loose leaf of paper, I quickly scribble a note, which I hand to le Comte. “I want to offer you a deal. Allow me to prove you wrong. Meet me Sunday at 9 in your shop to negotiate the terms,” he reads out loud. “Shop? What shop?”

“He sells flowers in town. I don’t have the address but William probably knows where it is.”

“Does he also know what he is helping Vlad do?” he asks. I shake my head.

“I don’t think so. You know how much of a shit stirrer he is, I’m willing to bet he’s just in it for the drama,” I state, rolling my eyes. “I have gotten to know him better over the past week, and I sincerely doubt he would be okay with what Vlad is planning. As far as I can tell, he just knows about the vampires he has recruited. Speaking of-” I remember, “he has two trusted minions. Faust the alchemist-slash-crazy scientist, and Charles. I have no idea who the latter is, just that he is French.”

“Interesting...” he mutters. “Tell me about this deal.”

“I was thinking of showing him the future. Grant him access to your door, and in exchange he has to stop his pursuit for power. What do you think?”

After a moment of thoughtful silence, le Comte shifts in his armchair. He leans forward, caressing his chin as if he had a beard.

“It is risky...” he quietly says. “Are you sure you can convince him?”

“I can and I will. Whatever it takes.”

Le Comte nods slowly, pondering my proposal. He stares at me, brows furrowed in concentration, as I suddenly feel as if his piercing golden eyes could read my mind. I return the gaze with as much confidence as I can reflect back to him. Unless he has a better idea, this is our only chance, and I intend to make it work no matter what.

“In that case...” he finally says, leaning back, “I shall aid you as best as I can and provide anything you need, ma chérie. However, I am not sure about letting him into the mansion. I need some time to think about how that would work.”

“Thank you Comte, I understand. Oh, one more thing,” I quickly add. “Do not tell anyone about this, especially William. If Vlad suspects anything he will kill me.”

“Then why did you tell me about his involvement?” he asks, raising an eyebrow. I shrug.

“You have a right to know,” I simply state, standing up. “Besides, you’re a good liar. Just keep that up and we’re all set, I’ll handle the- Rouge. I need rouge.”

Distracted by the sudden pang of hunger, I shuffle away, mumbling to myself as I count the time that has passed with my fingers. Roughly three and a half hours before I even felt anything, and I have not gone mad yet. That is a personal best.

I stroll into the kitchen sporting a proud grin. I reach over Sebastian’s shoulder for a bottle of rouge, leaning heavily on his back. He turns around, surprised, but I shush him before he can say anything and proceed to down the entire bottle in one go.

Once I am sure there is nothing left, I put it down on the counter with a deep breath before holding onto Sebastian’s shoulder once again. This time, I propel myself up to give him a kiss on the cheek.

“Did you miss me?” I ask coyly.

“How could I not?” he laughs. “Although the flowers probably miss you a lot more, I’ve been too busy to take proper care of the garden.”

“Oh, Seb, I am so sorry about that...” My apology is genuine, accompanied by a  gentle squeeze on his arm. “Sorry I left so suddenly. Should have at least warned you.”

“Don’t worry about it,” he smiles. “You’re here now. I saw you packing before, do you need help carrying all that?”

“I can ask someone else. I’m sure you’re busy enough without me helping out.”

“I am not too busy to listen. What is it like?” he suddenly asks, pulling a stool from under the kitchen isle. 

“What?”

“Living with Shakespeare! I want to know everything.”

“Oh,” I laugh. 

I sit on the counter, letting my legs dangle beside him as he looks up at me, his brown eyes impatient and full of wonder, almost like a child waiting for a bedtime story.

“Well, he wakes up super early, which as you know I am not very good at,” I humor him. “We spend most days in rehearsal with his troupe. They’re pretty cool. Uh... I’ve also been caring for his little vegetable patch that he keeps in the garden to feed the-”

“Puck, yes?” he interrupts me, making me look down.

“Seriously?” I snort. “You’re taking notes? Man, and I thought William was creepy.” I nudge Sebastian with my foot as I tease him. My voice drops to a whisper when a thought occurs to me. “Do you keep those on everyone? Oh my God, have you been taking notes about me?”

“No! Of course not,” he exclaims, unconvincingly shaking his head. I stare at him. “Okay, fine, don’t look at me like that! When I said I came here to study historical figures up close, I meant it.”

“Can I see?” I don’t wait for him to answer before I take the notebook from his hands. My eyebrows rise higher with every page of diligently detailed information I flip through. “Aw, you do have one about me. Adorable.”

“How do you think I’ve kept track of your schedule the past month?” he chuckles. “I only started writing that when it became clear you were planning to stay. Too bad I have no use for that cordon bleu recipe now...”

“Whoah, stop right there. You know full well I will travel from the Moon if I have to just to taste those ‘libritos’ again,” I state with as much seriousness as I can muster, which, frankly, isn’t much. A self sufficient smile grows on Sebastian’s lips.

“I know.” 

[fangzeronos]

Love Lost Birds

This is all @xaphrin‘s fault for getting me to love this ship. Seriously, you guys go read her Shadows series. It’s so damn good! Hope this is enjoyed!

The rainy and hellishly loud nights in Gotham City drove Damian crazy. In his teens, he’d been a Titan, fighting with the people he had come to consider a family. As much as he bitched to Grayson, and even Drake on occasion, Damian missed the Tower. What made the Tower bearable was her. The way her eyes sparkled in silent laughter at something Logan or Reyes would do, the small smiles she would give him, or the way they worked together.

 Then she disappeared, days before her birthday with nothing explaining why or where she was. He’d felt her disappearance before not seeing her, and even knocking on her door before bursting in confirmed the empty feeling in his stomach. He had sat in the dark of her room for over an hour, his fingers around a note he’d never read, her handwriting perfectly done on the front of the envelope.

 He had called every magic user he knew, from Constantine to Zatanna, even in contact with Tala or even Nabu, but none of them could or would locate her. Two years of looking, trying to find his way into side dimensions, or pocket universes, always being rejected and flung back to the cold darkness of the Tower at the mention of her name.

 Retreating back to Gotham and choosing to ignore the Titans worked for a while, but when Kori was around he was forced to talk. Sometimes he despised the Tamaranian, but he could tolerate her for Grayson’s sake.

 “Damian, you know she had to have had a reason to leave,” Kori had said one night on a patrol, her flaming hair sending steam into the air in the rain.

 “Without saying anything? Least of all to you or I? I do not buy it, Starfire. I will not stop until I find her,” Damian said, dropping onto a rooftop and sliding some thanks to a puddle on the roof. He slammed his hand against the wet bricks, anger surging through him. “Why? Why did she leave?”

 Kori landed beside Damian, putting her hand on his shoulder. With his hood over his face, she couldn’t see his eyes, but she knew talking about their missing friend was troubling him and causing him grief. “I don’t know, Damian. I don’t have the answer you’re looking for. I wish I did, but…she never confided in me her reason to leave,” she said.

 Damian growled, shaking Kori’s hand off as the sound of sirens pierced the thundering skies. He jumped off of the roof, thankful for the distraction.

 Deciding to hell with the city, Damian returned to the Batcave, tugging his cape off and pulling his domino mask off at the same time. He changed out of his suit, hanging it to let it dry. “Four months of rain in this godforsaken city. I am starting to wish Freeze would just ice it over and be done with us.” He started for the stairs to the library, deciding to walk to clear his head.

 “Master Damian, you know that is not a thing to wish,” Alfred said, looking at the young man as he turned in his chair from the computer. “Oh, Master Damian. You received a message from a Jaime Reyes."

 Damian froze, turning back to Alfred. “Reyes? What does the Beetle want with me?” he asked. He stepped off of the stairs, heading to the computer. “What was the message, Pennyworth?”

 Alfred handed Damian a sheet of paper with Jaime’s message on it.

 “Hey, Damian,

 It’s been a long time, and I’m sorry we never got in touch with you in the last few years. Dick said it’d be easier to message Alfred to get to you. You may want to sit down before you keep reading, because you’re going to collapse if you don’t. Sitting down? Good.

 She’s back. She’s been back two days, and she asked us to wait two days to contact you in case she had to go again. She wants to see you, amigo. How quickly can you make it back here? Let me know.

 Jaime”

 Damien’s blood ran cold, sinking into a chair as his knees gave out on him. She couldn’t have been back. He’d have felt it. He’d have felt her again. They were so attuned to each other, he’d have known. “Thank—” he started, his voice thick with emotions. He swallowed the lump in his throat, licking his lips softly. “Thank you, Alfred.” Forcing himself out of the chair, he took the elevator to the library, heading for his room.

 Once alone, he set Jaime’s note on the desk before opening a drawer, taking the letter out, his fingers tracing the letters on the envelope. Sitting on the floor, Damian turned the envelope over and broke the seal, his heart hammering his ribs. Pulling the slightly yellowing paper out, he unfolded it and started reading.

 “My Damian.

 I can hear you yelling at Dick and Kori about where I am. Just know that I’m safe so that you all stay safe too. Please don’t hate me for leaving. It’s something I had to do in order to keep Earth safe from my father. I have to go to Azarath, learn from the Monks and hopefully find a way to stop Trigon for good.

 If I know you, you’ll look at this envelope and say that I’m coming back soon and that I’ll be there quick, and you won’t open this until you know I’m home. I don’t know how long this will take, but I hope that you find peace after my leaving. I have loved every minute we’ve spent together, from carnivals and busting up bad guys to just quiet nights watching the rain or fireworks in one of our rooms. I don’t have enough time to write out everything I wanted to say to you, and I hope that once this is over I can say them face to face.

 We’re both going to be different people when we meet again, Damian. I hope you forgive me for not telling you I was leaving, but you’d have insisted on coming with me or protesting and try to get me to stay. I wish I could stay, but doing that would endanger the world, and I can’t lose you.

 I’ll see you again. Just know that, even though I never said it before, and reading it in a letter is not the right way to say it the first time, I love you, Damian. I always will.

 Love,

 Raven”

 The letter was marked with a kiss, the same shade of lipstick Raven would wear in her suit. “Raven…” Damian closed his eyes, taking a shaky breath as he pressed the letter to his forehead, drawing his knees up. He sighed, feeling like a weight was lifted off of his chest and dropped into his stomach. Looking up as a knock sounded on the door, Damian got up, wiping his eyes.

 “What?” he asked, sitting on the edge of the bed.

 Bruce opened the door, looking at his son. “Damian? Are you alright? Alfred said you were less bitchy then usual after patrol.”

 Damian nodded, explaining about Jaime’s letter and finally opening Raven’s. “I’ll take the jet to San Francisco, meet up with the Titans again. If Raven really is back…I have to go, Father.”

 Bruce nodded, putting his hand on Damian’s shoulder. “I’ll make sure it’s fueled and ready for you for in the morning. We can cover Gotham until you get back.”

 Damian nodded, sighing softly. “What if this all goes to hell?” he asked. “Raven and I? I…I don’t think I could handle losing her again, Father.”

 Bruce smiled softly, sitting on the edge of the bed beside his son. “If you love someone, you’ll fight to keep them. When you found out she disappeared, I got a continuous stream of calls from Jason Blood, Zatanna, Constantine, Doctor Fate, even people like Tala, Black Adam, and Faust saying you were desperate to find Raven. You spent two years trying to find her, and if that isn’t love, Damian, I don’t know what is.”

 Damian looked at the letter, shaking his head softly. “I had the answer in my possession the entire time, but I never opened this. I thought if I did, she’d be gone for good. The fact that she’s back, after four years…? I don’t want to lose her again.”

 “Then don’t,” Bruce said. “When you see her, you talk. You find out how she’s been, what she’s been doing, tell her what you’ve been doing and how you’ve been. Then you work for your future together.”

_____________________ Leaving before dawn the next morning, Damian sighed to himself as he flew the Batwing toward San Francisco. After eleven hours in the cockpit, thankful he’d had Alfred’s meals to keep him company as well as a book from Grayson, the Titans Tower came into view.

 “Batwing to Titans Tower. Requesting permission to land.”

 “Like you gotta ask, Birdboy! Lighting up the roof!” Garfield’s voice said.

 “Thank you, Garfield,” Damian said, shutting the communication line back off before flying down and landing on the illuminated helipad, shutting the engines off as the landing struts hit the concrete. He opened the cockpit and grabbed his bag and trash, jumping down and letting it close up before he jogged across the rooftop and walked through the door.

 Walking into the main living room of the Tower, Damian was hit with the sounds and sights he’d been missing for over four years. Garfield and Jaime were playing games on the massive wall length television, Tim was on the computer and looked like he hadn’t slept in a week. He was the first to look over and see Damian.

 “Hey, man,” Tim said, getting up and shaking Damian’s hand. “Good flight?”

 “Alfred’s cooking and a book made it more bearable. If I admitted how nervous I was the entire way, none of you would believe me,” Damian said. “Where’s--?”

 “Her room,” Tim said. “Asked us to tell you and leave you two be, and only to come running if one of you stormed out and disappeared.”

 “Glad to see everyone still listens to her,” Damian said. “Thank you.”

 “Good to see you, Damian,” Tim said with a genuine smile.

 Damian smiled a little, waving to Garfield and Jaime before heading for his room. He didn’t even pay attention to where he was going, his feet on autopilot before he ended up at his door. He pushed the door open and tossed his bag on the bed, pulling his mask off and changing into civilian clothes before he walked out, sighing as he headed down the hallway. Making his way to Raven’s room, the ethereal raven emblem on the wall. Reaching his hand up to knock, the door slid open.

 “You don’t have to knock,” Raven’s voice said, a light turning on and illuminating the room. She was floating over her bed, cloak on the mattress and her legs crossed in her usual pose. Her hair was longer and drawn into a ponytail, her cloak the same but in white, and she’d lost the leggings, leaving her bare legs to the elements.

 “It’s polite,” Damian said, walking in and letting the door shut behind him. “Especially after not seeing someone for four years.”

 Raven nodded, floating down before letting her feet land on the floor. “You never read the letter, did you?” she asked, meeting Damian halfway in the room.

 “Not until last night,” Damian said softly. “If I read it…it would have made it permanent in my mind. I thought if I didn’t read it, I’d wake up and you’d be here. But every day for a year, that dream was always shattered. I couldn’t stand it after two years, moving back to Gotham and leaving all of this behind.”

 Raven smiled softly, putting her hand on Damian’s cheek softly. “I thought about you all the time,” she said. She watched him close his eyes and lean into her touch, the tough as nails Grandson of the Demon turning into a gentle giant around her like he always did. “Never went a day without hoping you were okay or thinking about a rainstorm and sitting here watching the lightning, tea in our hands.” She reached down and took his hands, feeling his warmth spread through her. “I missed you.”

 “I missed you,” Damian said softly, squeezing Raven’s hands. “Four years and nine months, Raven. Four years I wondered if I’d done something to you, something to make you leave without explaining. I thought you hated me.”

 “Never,” Raven said, shaking her head. “I could never hate you, Damian. I left to keep you safe. You and the other Titans. When my eighteenth birthday came, I woke up with a burning on my skin. I knew exactly what it was, and I knew I didn’t have time to explain. I’d written that letter the night before, knowing you’d find it the next day. I packed and left the minute I’d woken up. The burning was my father’s mark, signaling the day arrived I was supposed to destroy the world.”

 Damian sighed softly. He didn’t know why, but he stepped forward and wrapped his arms around Raven’s waist, pulling her toward him. He felt her arms go around his neck, and he buried his nose against her shoulder, the familiar scent of jasmine and lavender filling his senses. “Don’t leave me again,” he said. “Please.”

 “Never,” Raven said softly, tightening her arms and closing her eyes. “Four years was long enough without you.” She smiled, holding tightly to Damian.

 After a few minutes, the pair stepped back, Damian putting his hand on Raven’s cheek. “You were right about one thing.”

 “Just one?” Raven asked with an amused smirk, cocking an eyebrow.

 Damian rolled his eyes and smiled softly. “The letter. Reading it on a page isn’t the same as hearing it,” he said. “I love you, Raven. I always have, and the last four years have been torture on my heart, not knowing if you were dead or alive, or even if you were safe. I’d gotten so used to feeling you around me, that when you disappeared I was empty. I was never satisfied or happy without that connection. Nothing I did filled that hole in my chest.”

 Raven smiled, putting her hand on Damian’s and turning her head softly, kissing his palm. “I know,” she said. “I wish I had explained before abandoning you for Azarath.” She took his hand and intertwined their fingers, enjoying his warmth against her skin. “I love you, too. I won’t leave you behind again. Not ever.”

 Damian smiled softly, leaning forward and kissing Raven, pulling her against him again and looping his arm around her waist. “Good,” he growled lowly, his tone sending a shiver through Raven’s spine that settled in her hips. “You do, I will not stop until I find you and I will punish you.”

 Raven kissed Damian back, her chest heaving from the force of the kiss and his threat of punishing her. “Mm…what did you learn in four years?” she asked with a smirk, backing up toward the bed before sitting down, watching him stalk forward.

 “You’ll have to find out,” Damian said, leaning down and kissing Raven again before she pulled him onto the bed, flipping him to pin him to the mattress. “Gotten stronger, my love.”

 Raven smiled, straddling Damian’s hips before leaning down and kissing him again, threading her fingers through his. “I also learned some new ways to play with my magic. Nights on Azarath got very boring,” she said, grinding her hips against Damian’s slowly, cocking an eyebrow as she teased him.

 Damian laughed, looking up at Raven. “Well. Looks like we’ve both got some new experiences to share with each other.”

 “That we do,” Raven said, kissing Damian.

 Neither Damian or Raven knew what the future would hold for either of them, but as long as they were together, they knew they could face whatever demons, both figurative or literal, that came their way.

[techmeozia1]

Coronavirus Will Change Teaching By 2025

In some nations even before this COVID-19 pandemic, drones are used to provide critical medical supplies like blood. Now could be a great time to think about reforming the regulatory hurdles that stop such usages from the United States. Among the crucial concerns about COVID-19 is that the possible strain it could place on the present inventory of health equipment such as ventilators and protective gear. Some start-ups are working together to think of a way to 3-D print crucial ventilator valves at a lower price, raising the general production of these essential devices.

The Academy provides over 200 classes to students in addition to a wide variety of support services, tasks to encourage student-to-student connections, and drop-in facilities to facilitate registration, counseling, examinations, and additional providers. Karval Online Education -- A people K-12 online school for Colorado residents that offers a free personal computer for your family to work with while the student is registered and supplies reimbursement opportunities to cancel Internet and other educational expenses. Utah Electronic High School -- An 18-year-old online high school supplying a selection of classes to students year-round. The school can award diplomas to students that are home-schooled, have fallen out, or are ineligible to graduate from a standard high school for particular explanations. Read More Improving Collaboration In Construction

How Technology Is Adapting To Aid Health Care Workers And Organizations

In Goethe's Faust, Faust selling his soul to the devil in exchange for power within the physical world can be frequently translated as a metaphor for its adoption of industrial technology. Normally, the technician is the belief in the usefulness of technology for enhancing human societies. Some, like Stephen V. Monsma, connect these ideas to the abdication of faith as a higher moral authority. The first known usage of wind power is that the sailing boat; the oldest record of a boat under sail is that of a Nile ship dating into the 8th-millennium BCE. From ancient times, Egyptians likely employed the energy of the yearly flood of the Nile to irrigate their lands, slowly learning how to govern a lot of it via purposely developed irrigation channels and"capture" basins. The early Sumerians in Mesopotamia utilized an intricate system of canals and levees to divert water from the Tigris and Euphrates rivers for irrigation. Also Rad Technology In Our Life Today

In Montana, a physician was 3-D printing masks to help treat deficits.

All you have to do is ask your voice helper a query, and it'll provide you an answer located online.

Many banks have made trades possible online and accessible to people everywhere.

In the era of coronavirus, that assignment has been demonstrated to be an invaluable way of bringing people together.

Information is accurate to the top of Liberty Mutual's understanding, but companies and people should not rely on it to stop and mitigate all of the risks as an excuse of benefits or coverage under an insurance plan. Ask your professional advisor about your specific facts and circumstance. By mentioning external governments or connecting to other sites, Liberty Mutual isn't advocating them. For these reasons, the JBKnowledge report concludes that drones have reached a tipping point and might be well on their way to being seen as fundamental Jobsite tools -- instead of simply a luxury. With BIM, project teams may assess a simulated design of a job at different stages in its lifecycle, from design to breaking ground, and directly through to commissioning.

The U S. Economy Is Digitalizing At Hyper 

, using comparable technology for self-driving automobiles, is now being used on job sites to do excavation, grading, and site work. This sort of technology enables operators to be wholly removed from the machine, enabling companies to perform an identical amount of work with fewer workers. The requirement for workers in construction is anticipated to grow considerably through the next ten years. The Bureau of Labor Statistics project building job growth to be 11 percent from 2016 through 2026. Older workers, who lack the skills and expertise of the veteran peers, may gain from the technology being deployed on job sites today.

At every station, workers have the resources and materials to always perform their job, whether or not building a wall framework or installing electric wiring. This meeting plant method of the building reduces waste and allows workers to become productive. Now there are mobile and software solutions to help handle each aspect of a building project. From preconstruction to monitoring, in project management and discipline coverage to handle your back office, there is a software alternative out there to help streamline your processes and enhance productivity.

[owlstronomer]

🍒+ the mosthatedbeingg

send  me  🍒  +  a  url  and  i  will  write  some  positivity  for  them. / No longer accepting

Once upon a time, I was too nervous to ever talk to Kas in a million years! True story! Kas pours soooo much love and detail into all of their verses and their portrayal of Lucifer! I also just love the versatility they have between heavy, serious topics and then just being a straight up goof! They're so sweet and fun, never a dull moment and I'm happy they let me send the occasional nonsense into their inbox~ Kas is cool, if you're not following them already, you should consider it!

[alecmagnuslwb]

Magic

Writer’s Month 2020 Day Three

Read on AO3

“So, this girl you’re taking me to see she’s got magic like you?” the kid Constantine just saved from certain death asks as they wait under a bus stop awning.

Constantine flicks open his lighter trying and failing to light the damp cigarette hanging from his lips. He stuffs his hand in his pocket pulling the pack out and trying to find one that isn’t soaked, but they’re all a lost cause. Briefly he considers using his magic to fix them, but he doesn’t want to risk lighting this awning on fire or something. His magic has been so haywire since Faust blasted him with something while protecting this kid he’s pretty sure any magic use will have the adverse effect of what he wants.

Which is why they’re waiting for a bus instead of him just casually portaling into Zatanna’s living room like he would any other day.

“Zatanna Zatara doesn’t just have magic, she is magic,” John says pulling the kid up by his jacket from where he’s slumped down into the seat. He pushes him toward the bus when it comes to a stop paying for them both and then guiding him to sit in the back.

John settles on one side, the kid disgruntledly sitting beside him.

“Sounds pretty fucking corny to me,” he grumbles crossing his arms and looking out the window away from John.

“Yeah, well once you meet a goddess you put some respect on her name,” Constantine says as he leans back in the seat keeping a watchful eye on the other people on the bus and their surroundings. It doesn’t feel likely that Faust followed them not after the last blast of decent magic Constantine hit him with, but he stays on alert.

The rest of the ride is quiet and John nudges the kid when the bus comes to halt at their stop a few blocks away from Zee’s place. They walk briskly, the rain slowing down a bit as they go.

He feels the wards around Zatara mansion shimmer across his skin as he passes through them then sees them go red at the edges when the kid passes through. He knocks three times in quick succession on the front door even though the red alert has already told her someone’s there.

Zee swings open the door her fighting face on, one hand already lit up with electricity that she quells as soon as she realizes it’s John.

“You’re wet,” she says reaching up her hand that was just electrified and brushing the damp hair from his eyes. The kid clears his throat from behind him and Zee takes note moving her hand down to grip at John’s lapel and leaning past him to look at the boy. “And you brought a teenager. He must be who set off my wards.”

“Yeah, I was minding my own business and caught Faust trying to kill him, targeting him specifically. Thought I’d be nice and save him,” he explains feigning disinterest. He reaches up to circle his fingers around her wrist. “That’s why I’m here.”

“That’s the only reason, huh?” she smiles stepping back causing his hand to drop and gestures for them both to come inside.

“Kcol eht rood, nehtgnerts the wards,” she says the door slamming closed and locking tightly. She raises up her hands a wave of warm blue light coming from here fingers. John feels the wards increase in strength. She reaches over touching his neck tenderly and placing her other hand on the kids’ shoulder. “Emoclew meht ni.”

John feels the warm familiar rush of Zee’s magic flowing through his veins as a wave of magic washes over the property, he absolutely loves it. The kid however jumps back.

“What the hell was that?” he says making a face.

“Keying you into the wards so they don’t recognize you as an enemy again, John just needed an upgrade,” she smiles patting him on the cheek and stepping back.

“So you’re the magical goddess, huh?” the kid says eyeing her up and down. He’s no older than 17 so John can understand why his eyes linger a little too long on her fishnets, John’s have plenty of times over the years, but he puts a stop to it walking over and tapping him under the chin.

“Eye’s up,” he says with a scowl. “Remember what I said about respect.”

Zatanna just laughs.

“You told him I’m a goddess?” she teases her nose squishing up with a cute little smile.

Constantine is absolutely endeared, but he has an image to uphold in front this kid so he just smirks.

“Oh, hush,” he says brushing it off. She knows him better though, winking at him once and smiling. She turns crossing her arms and looking at the kid.

“Alright,” she pauses leaving him room to give his name. The kid just bristles. She looks at John with a raised eyebrow in question and he just shrugs. He tried to get a name out of him when they first met not even a two hours ago and came up empty handed.

“Look, I get you’re scared and you don’t know why what happened to you tonight happened, but we can’t figure out why it did if we don’t even know who you are,” she says meeting the boy’s eyes with a gentle smile. “You’re safe here.”

The kid hesitates for a moment before answering her. Amongst the many things that make Zatanna magic is the way people just feel at ease with her in mere seconds.

“David Simpson.”

Zatanna looks back at John.

“Any relation to Richie?” she asks and the kid shrugs.

“I don’t know any of my family, it was just me and mom for a long time and then she died and that’s that,” he says looking down at his feet. Zatanna and John give him matching sad smiles it’s probably better he doesn’t see.

“Okay, well David there’s food in the fridge,” she says gesturing towards the kitchen. “Take whatever you want and we’ll start figuring out why Faust is after you soon.”

The kid nods and lets out a quiet thanks as he rushes into the kitchen.

“If he’s connected to Richie somehow and he got some kid involved in some dumb shit he’s pulling,” John starts as Zatanna steps into his space.

“I know and we’ll figure it out,” she says softly. “First things first I need to take a look at you,” she says before whispering a quiet spell under her breath and hovering her hands over him.

“I’m fine Zee, we need to focus on the kid,” he says trying to brush her hands away, the mask of indifference falling away now that they’re alone.

“Nobody can get to him here,” she says giving him a stern look that stops his protests dead in their tracks. “And you’re not fine. You feel weird.”

John scoffs, “Well, that’s what every guy wants to hear from his lady.”

Zatanna rolls her eyes whether it’s over the audible scoff, the comment, his attempt to deflect her concern or all three he’s not sure. She keeps hovering her hands over him, her magic moving across his skin and into his bones, faintly he hears the sound of the microwave starting up in the kitchen.

“Faust hit you with a pretty hard blast of some sort of magic scrambling spell,” she says not really looking for him to respond just thinking out loud. She hums in thought for a moment before her hand stops directly over where the tattoo on his chest that she has the twin of on her own lies under his shirt.

“Teser,” she says slowly closing her eyes and focusing her energy on their connection. Another wave bursts through him this time even stronger as he feels his magic coming online again no longer feeling like an annoying, itchy hum under his skin like it has since the fight, but like the fiery burn it always is flickering just right under his fingertips.

“Thanks, luv,” he says when she opens her eyes leaning in to press a quick kiss to her cheek. The magic around them settles, it wasn’t an understatement when he told David that Zee doesn’t just do magic, she is magic; the proof is there every time he’s around her, under his skin and in these walls. From the kitchen he hears the toaster pop this time, clearly David is taking full advantage of Zee’s whatever you want statement.

“No problem,” she says patting him on the chest. Her soft smile morphs into a wicked smirk. “Now, want to go summon Richie against his will and kick his ass if we have to?”

John smirks right back, “Absolutely.”

[marshmallowbee13]

Love Like Yours Fest

Ch2. Caught Red Hearted

Finally, it was Sunday! Ramona had been counting the seconds until she could be free to explore the city with Asra. She had done more chores on Saturday so that her Sunday could be free. When she finished the dishes after breakfast, she asked her aunt for permission to take the rest of the day off.

"You're going to see that boy, aren't you?" Maria asked.

"His name is Asra, and yes. He offered to show me the city." Ramona said.

"Fine, but be on your guard. He may look innocent, but the boy's a thief. And a clever one, at that. It's not uncommon to see him running from a guard."

"I'll be careful, I promise." Ramona said before grabbing her bag and running excitedly out the door. She walked through the market until she spotted a familiar face beside the fruit cart. She smiled and ran up to him.

"Hi, Asra!" Ramona greeted.

"Hi." Asra said shyly. "You look... nice." Ramona had worn her favorite dress, a pink sun dress with a frilly neckline that exposed her shoulders, and wore her hair in two long braids.

"Thank you." Ramona blushed pink like her dress.

"Pretty!" a voice exclaimed, heard only by Asra. A little purple snake peeked out from the back of Asra's shirt. Ramona caught the movement and her eyes widened in surprise.

"Is that a snake?!" She gasped.

"Her name's Faust. She's my familiar." Asra said. "Do you want to pet her? She's very friendly." Ramona nodded and reached her hand out. Faust flicked her little tongue out before bumping her head into Ramona's hand. Ramona ran a finger over Faust's smooth scales.

"She's so pretty." Ramona commented.

"Faust thinks you're pretty, too." Asra said, translating Faust's thoughts.

"She talks?" Ramona asked.

"Sort of. We can communicate, but only I can hear her. Kinda like a little voice in my head. Anyway, shall we start our tour?" Asra offered Ramona his hand. She took it in hers and let her new friend lead her around the city.

Their first stop was the baker's stall for "a bite of the best pumpkin bread you'll ever taste in your life," or so Asra said. The baker was very nice. Upon hearing Ramona was new to Vesuvia, he went and gave them a loaf for free to welcome Ramona to the city.

"Come on, I want to share this with Muriel." Asra said, leading the way.

"Who's that?" Ramona asked.

"He's my best friend." Asra said. "We've been through a lot together."

"Oh. I'd love to meet him." Ramona said.

"He's very shy, so don't be upset if he doesn't seem thrilled at your presence at first. He just needs time before he starts to warm up to you." Asra added. "I think he's still trying to warm up to me and we've known each other for eight years."

Asra took her down to the docks, where Asra told Ramona all the other orphans of Vesuvia lived. Ramona felt sad. As strict as the sisters at the orphanage had been, she felt lucky she had food and shelter at least.

Asra spotted the lump of cloak that was Muriel. He lead Ramona down to him, but stopped when Muriel turned his head.

"Muri! What happened?!" Half of Muriel's face was covered in a big bruise.

"Who is that?" Muriel asked in a deep voice.

"Hello, my name is Ramona." Ramona greeted. "What happened?" The bruise looked dark purple and very painful. Muriel didn't look at Ramona and addressed Asra.

"Those kids again. They wanted to fight." Muriel said.

"That looks painful. Muriel, if you let me, I can heal that for you?" Ramona offered. Muriel looked to Asra, then glanced at the strange girl. There was a small, almost unnoticeable nod. "Okay. I have to touch your face. I promise to be gentle. It'll feel warm, then it will stop hurting."

Ramona softly touched Muriel's non-bruised cheek and just under his jaw. She closed her eyes in concentration. The spots where she touched Muriel's skin and the bruise itself began to glow a bright gold color.

Asra watched Ramona work, his eyes softening as some kind of feeling began to build in his chest. She treated Muriel so delicately, so kindly. He then stared in amazement as the bruise on Muriel's face slowly shrunk until there was nothing but unmarred skin left. Ramona dropped her hands and took a steadying breath. She always felt winded when she did that.

"Wow. Where did you learn to do that?" Asra asked in amazement.

"I don't think I did. It's just something I've always been able to do." Ramona said. Asra noticed she looked a little drained and split the pumpkin loaf. Asra held off eating his until he saw Ramona's reaction. She took a small bite and her eyes practically rolled to the back of her head.

"Oh my God, you weren't kidding. It's like love and happiness in a loaf." Asra laughed at her reaction and ate his piece.

After their meager meal, Muriel joined them in their tour, if only to keep them out of trouble. Asra showed Ramona their favorite places to be, where the best place to snatch up dropped coins were, and...

They had been walking through an alley when Asra suddenly pulled Ramona close, hiding behind a stack of crates.

"Asra?" Ramona asked. "What is it?"

"Lucio." Asra whispered. Muriel grumbled in response, almost like a growl.

"What? Who's that?" Ramona peeked around the crates.

"See the man wearing red? With the golden arm?" Asra whispered in her ear. She did. He was talking with a group of young boys, about their age.

"He's Count Lucio. He rules over Vesuvia. Since I was a child, he's been trying to recruit me and Muriel."

"Recruit? For what?" Ramona asked. Asra just shrugged.

"My magic? Other services? Sex? I never stayed around long enough to find out. Come on, let's go somewhere else." He steered them to a different part of the city, still holding her close. If he did anything for his new friend, it would be to protect her from Lucio. He was no good and Ramona didn't need to be exposed to him.

Ramona clung to Asra, a bit scared. Was the ruler here really that bad? Why did their count need to recruit kids from the streets? The sisters would tell stories of terrible people who would take kids off the street for their own diabolical purposes, but Ramona had always though it just a story to scare them into behaving. Was Lucio one of those people?

Asra noticed Ramona looking nervous and tried his best to cheer her up. He showed her the Floating Market and the places with the best views of the city. Muriel generally stayed in the shadows, away from the crowds.

...

The sun was setting when Asra felt it was a good time to walk Ramona home. He didn't want her out after dark and he was sure her aunt would kill him if anything happened to her. They stopped at the shop door.

"Thank you so much, Asra. I had a lot of fun today." Ramona said before pulling him into a hug. Asra held her close. She was warm and smelled like flowers. She let go and turned to Muriel. "And it was nice meeting you, too, Muriel. Is your face okay? Does it still hurt?"

"It's fine." Muriel answered. Ramona smiled.

"I hope to see you guys again soon." Ramona said. "Goodnight, be safe."

"You, too." Asra said as she disappeared inside. Asra lingered for a few seconds before turning in the direction of the docks.

"You're smiling." Muriel commented.

"Am I?" Asra couldn't help it. Ramona was beautiful. And sweet. And she smelled good. He was... definitely falling for her.

"Ramona's so great." Asra commented. Muriel just grunted, but he did find himself touching the place where the bruise had been just this morning. He had to admit, Ramona was... something different...

...

That first day out together triggered more and more until not a day went by that Asra and Ramona weren't seen together, whether doing errands, or chores, or even simply enjoying a sunny day together. They were like two peas in a pod. Three, if you counted Faust. Muriel rarely joined them, not being one to socialize much.

That year, Asra asked Ramona to the masquerade. He and Muriel made masks to sell, but the prettiest one he gave to her. Ramona wore her nicest dress. They danced and enjoyed the party, all the while making a game out of avoiding the goat-masked Count.

It was that night of the masquerade that Ramona received her first kiss. They were taking a break at the fountain in the center of the garden maze, sitting beneath a willow tree when Asra had leaned in. His lips were soft against hers, sweet like the champagne they had sampled. Ramona wondered if this was what being in love felt like. They could have stayed there for hours, but a rustling in the bushes got them running again.

@lovelikeyoursfest

[skvaderarts]

Chapter Eighteen: Zenith

You can check out the Masterlist Here for more links to places to read!

Chapter Eighteen: Zenith

Note: I went shopping for a Chromebook today. I keep telling myself that I can just tough it out on this tablet, but after that last chapter, I don’t know. Guess I’ll find out by the end of this chapter. Thank you all for your amazing comments and the overall excitement and positive reception the last chapter received. It was arduous to write, but knowing you guys liked it as much as you did really made it all worth it!

-~-

The cultists clearly hadn’t expected things to take such a rapid and unfavorable turn for the worse. They had been struggling to hold their own in a battle against Magnolia and Nero, but the edition of Sparda’s twin sons had turned this into a very one sided battle, even if the odds were still six against three. Well, more like twelve against three when you factored in the summons that each of them commanded. Between the six of them they possessed two Nobody, a Sin Scissor, several Sargasso, a Kyklops, and a Plasma. It was a veritable who's who of creatures that Vergil had never wanted to see again, and it felt like someone had custom curated a  catalog just to unnerve him. For that crime alone he was fully prepared to kill every single cultist in this building. This entire situation reeked of Malet Island, and he despised that with every fiber of his being; every synapse in his brain firing for the sole purpose of conjuring up new ways go decimage his foes. 

He was going to get to the bottom of this once this was all over.

There were several talks he needed to have with V…

A Nobody rushed forward, flailing wildly as it attempted to grab Nero around the waist and plow him into the ground. The younger man jumped sideways out of its path, twisting the throttle on his blade as he sent an upward arching slash into the unintelligent demon that sent it staggering back as it’s mask shattered into pieces. It stopped for a moment before manifesting one of it’s large, pulsating eyes and throwing it in his direction. Dante shot the eye and the resulting explosion caused two of the nearby Sargasso to crack slightly, their weak bodies not well suited to such attacks. One of them made the mistake of lunging forward and trying to bite Dante in retaliation but swiftly regretted the decision if it was capable of higher thought as he charged his flaming gauntlets and delivered a devastating uppercut to the creature, spiraling up into the air. He whipped out Ebony And Ivory, showering the group of floating skulls with concentrated gunfire, his demonic power infused into the rounds for additional damage.

Upon landing, the now enraged Kyklops dug its feet into the stone floor and fired a large chunk of stone at Dante. As he moved to deflect it, a familiar sonic boom fired off as Vergil destroyed the hulking shard of stone before spinning around and impaling one of the cultists. They had made the mistake of trying to run at him with a piece of broken glass. As they dropped dead to the floor, so did the remainder of the Sargasso, unable to remain in this plain of existence without a master to act as an anchor for them. The Sin Scissor surged forward, attempting to cut Nero in half. He ducked underneath it, turning around and leaping towards it to deliver a powerful downward strike that shattered it’s larger spectral shears. It attempted to block him, entering a deadly spin in a play at eviscerating him. Another skillful sidestep was immediately succeeded by a succession of rapid, merciless slashes that shattered the demon’s remaining blade into shrapnel. The intangible beast cried out in rage, it’s mask bleeding. Nero shook his head playfully before delivering one final shot to its face, successfully shattering it’s mask and ending it’s miserable existence. As he holstered his gun, half of one of the pews rocked across the room and slammed into the cultist nearest to him, crushing him between the stone pillar and the jagged wood. Nero winced and shook his head slightly, relatively sure that that had been Dante’s handiwork. Ouch. But at least they were rid of that scissor wielding bastard. He’d had more than enough of things that could fly through walls for one day.

Just as he was turning around to locate another target, the Kyklops screamed in pain as Vergil dropped a volley of summoned swords on it, impaling it in several dozen parts of his body. It’s open mouth was it’s primary weak spot, which was unfortunate for it considering how wide open it was at that moment in time. Dante took the opportunity to fasten his two trusty rocket launchers together, funneling demonic energy into them as he delivered an explosive charged attack to the demon’s gaping maw. The Kyklops emitted one last agonized cry as the blast tore through it, shattered the pillar behind it, and into the cultist that was using it for cover. They both fell dead for the floor, no longer a threat if they could have been considered a threat in the first place. The remaining cultist and his Plasma were now all that was left of the foot soldiers.

Learning nothing from the example his peers had just set for him in their untimely deaths, the remaining cultist ordered his Plasma to attack, the blue humanoid demon shooting his eye beam in an ark across the room in an attempt to mow the descendants of Sparda down. Nero dived for cover behind the rubble created from a falling pillar as Dante swung his charged blade at the demon, sending several beams of deadly red energy at it. Vergil teleported out of the beam’s path, arching into a ferocious aerial dive that the demon nearly managed to dodge. Unfortunately for it, Nero delivered a well placed charge shot directly into its laser eye as it was in the process of charging up a second shot. No opportunity to vocalize it’s pain was afforded to it as Vergil cleaved the glowing blue demon into halves, spinning around to deliver an unnecessary but deserved series of horizontal slash to it’s torso. He then twirled Yamato before dragging it along its scabbard, slowly easing it into place with a deliberate click that sent the creature calling to the floor in a series of small segments. The pile of spectral remains melted away as the cultist charged them, seemingly in the process of conjuring a second demon. Vergil gave him a dismissive glance before harpooning him with another well placed volley of summoned swords. Just as he did so, a long metal rod flew from across the room and impaled him, sending him careening forward in obvious shock and pain. The man groaned before slumping over dead in the pile of ectoplasm that now served as the remains of his summoned Plasma. And with his demise, the room fell silent.

Nero turned in the direction the rod had flown from and craned his head to the side, somewhat surprised by what he saw. “Magnolia?! Oh shit, you're alive!”

Vergil turned at the mention of her name, only now regretting that he had not taken her absence into account. He had been so caught up in what was going on that he hadn’t taken the time to look for her. That was unlike him, but he knew she didn’t mind. Magnolia had never been the type of woman who wanted to be worried over, even when she needed the supervision. She was leaned against one of the pillars, her arms wrapped around her torso in obvious discomfort. They shared a long, quiet look before he nodded in understanding, stepping away and turning towards the open front door to the castle. No one had bothered to close it during their confrontation, so snow was blowing in from outside. It would have been relaxing if not for the scene unfolding just beyond it.

Nero stepped towards her but she lifted her hand slightly to waive him off, letting out a wet cough. “I’ll live, Love. You should go after your father…”

Nero and Dante turned their attention to Vergil. Or rather, when Vergil had been standing just moments ago. He was nowhere to be seen. Despite the fact that neither of them had seen him leave, Dante had a feeling he knew exactly where he had gone.

-~-

The Blitz rushed forward at the command of it’s master, the leader of the cultists clearly more adept at controlling his summons than his compatriots. As it gained speed in an attempt to charge V and nail him into the ground (figuratively and literally) it was stopped dead in its tracks as Shadow morphed into a series of sharp, upward facing spikes, impaling the demon and dragging it to a halt. Griffon swooped downward, maneuvering with expert precision through the wall of dangerous obstacles as he spun and collided with the Faust that accompanied the rival summoner. He made brief contact before passing through it, circling back around to try and relocate his target.

“Damn it! How do you expect us to hit something that’s made of smoke, V?” He inquired sarcastically. 

There was a measure of actual validity to his question, but there was far too much going on for the white haired summoner to really answer that. At present, V was in the process of trying to keep up with the cult leader’s location. He had a clear and vested interest in fleeing the scene, seemingly aware that his summons stood no chance against V and his companions. Try as he might, he simply did not possess the level of cooperation, polish, and communication with his familiars that V did. He did not have their loyalty. He had simply reached into the underworld and dragged them here against their will. The two creatures would just as soon kill him themselves if their presence here didn’t directly tie into him staying alive.

V sidestepped what would have otherwise been a deadly attack from the Faust as he refocused his attention on the Blitz. The electric demon seemed to be charging up some sort of attack. The spiked beams that extended from Shadow’s back impaled the Faust, causing it to redirect its attention towards the demonic panther. It slashed at her to no avail as Shadow relocated herself, snatching V out of the path of the Blitz’s electric beam. The second he recentered his balance, he pointed towards the thunder coated menace, intent on keeping it pinned down. While the Faust was indeed a sizable threat, this creature was much harder to keep up with. So long as it was immobile, he could deal with it. Although it didn’t seem to want to take any sort of meaningful damage from their attacks.

Griffon glowed brightly as he swooped downward towards the Faust, his iridescent blue wings discharging a deadly wall of electricity. He then immediately flew down towards the ground and armed a trap, placing a sphere of electricity that two beams extended from. They cut across the space in a wide arch, cutting into both demons as Shadow swiped her long, razor sharp tail at the Blitz, morphing into a mouthful of spikes. She roared and clamped onto her electric nemeses, shattering it’s well armored hide. The creature roared and emmeted an eerie red glow. The mouthy bird flanked V, grabbing him and yanking him from the demon’s path as it charged at him at a speed that was somehow more frantic than it had been before.

“... Something’s not right.” V observed as she landed, his eyes locked on the now red streak that zipped around him. The summoner had never encountered this type of Demon before, but he had a bad feeling about this. Griffon schofield as if to attest to how obvious the statement was before turning his attention to the cultist. They needed to know where he was at all times.

The cult leader dashed past them, headed towards the remains of the staircase and tower. V started after him, cursing himself internally as a few stray drops of his blood splattered against the one pristine snow. He didn’t have time to focus on his mild discomfort. He needed to stop him from getting away. This man was far too dangerous to allow to escape. Griffon swooped past him homed in on the man, slamming into his back and sending him careening towards the ground. He tumbled and rolled before coming to a stop against the edge of a work. As V approached he slid to a stop, dismounting Shadow and allowing her to stalk closer to their target. Before he could move even an inch closer, the Blitz appeared before him, flashing a frantic red. V had no idea how he came to the conclusion that he did, but he immediately stepped back and summoned his trusty bird, allowing Griffon to snatch him out of harm's way as the demon screamed and detonated. The blast knocked him back through the air, sending him crashing through one of the frozen pillars. 

He coughed as he sat up and attempted to assess the situation, immediately coming to the conclusion that the other summoner had met his end at the hands of his own familiar. The amount of blood spoke for itself. V sighed in relief before pulling himself to his feet. Although bruised and mildly wounded, he was somehow still alive. And he couldn’t wait to get out of this freezing weather. As much as he enjoyed snow, he didn’t want to be in this seemingly cursed place any longer. A quick check of his back pocket confirmed that the book was in fact still there. It’s condition would have to be assessed at another time.

As he took in the gravity of his situation, Griffon fluttered over and landed on his shoulder, preening himself. Several of his feathers had been knocked out of alignment during the excitement. He used his wing to gesture in the direction of the castle, adjusting an out of place feather. “Looks like we have company, poetry boy!”

V glanced in the direction of the castle only to find Vergil approaching from a few feet away. They exchanged a tense stare as Nero and Dante joined them, the later of the two helping an exhausted looking Magnolia along. He didn’t seem upset, but his expression was basically unreadable. The both of them could probably use medical attention, though he was willing to wager that she was slightly worse off than he was after what he’d seen happen to her earlier. Vergil lanced between the two of them before exhaling and looking him up and down. V got the impression that he was trying to access any damage in lieu of simply asking him if he was alright. He’d come a long way, but he wasn’t quite there yet when it came to vocalizing his concerns.

Vergil stepped forward and withdrew Yamato, creating a criss cross in the air before stepping to the side and glaning out of the corner of his eye at V and Nero. Although neither of them said anything about it, for a moment they both thought that Vergil actually looked somewhat… relieved to see them. But they collectively set their thoughts aside and approached the portal. They needed to leave this place before things got any worse.

-~-

V sat on the front steps of the Fortuna hospital, quietly reflecting. He’d insisted that they see to Magnolia’s wounds before dealing with his own, something that seemed to cause Vergil no small level of discomfort despite his lack of vocal input. The events that had just transpired during the last few days had been a blur of discomfort and danger, and he still had yet to truly take in how improbably everything truly was. He had so many questions and so few answers. And now there were possible threats out there that he hadn’t considered before. It was all very… overwhelming.

After a moment, Vergil approached him, seemingly unsure as to what he should do with himself. There was no way that he was going to sit next to him, despite the fact looming over him was arguably even more uncomfortable. After almost a full minute of uncomfortable silence, Vergil took the hit and sat down, albeit several feet away. V twiddled his fingers anxiously. He hadn’t the slightest idea what to say to his father. They had never really talked to another before, yet there was seemingly endless amounts of history between them. Most of it wasn’t exactly positive considering the circumstances, but still.

Vergil glanced over at him quietly, at a similar loss for words. V’s silence did confirm something for him, however. “... Nero told you, then?”

V considered his response for a moment before nodding quietly, still not quite making eye contact with Vergil. He glanced down at his hands, clasping them together but making an effort to not come off as anxious as he actually was. He didn’t truly understand the source of his anxiety, but it was there nonetheless. He would simply have to work through it. “... Yes… Yes, he did.”

They fell silent again, this time more so as a result of Vergil’s inner conflict than V’s inability to make smalltalk. It hadn’t escaped his notice that V had made a contract with his former Nightmares. At present, he didn’t entirely know how to take this revelation. Though V seemed to have a strong bond with them, the idea of his burdens passing so literally to one of his children troubled him. It seemed that his mistakes and regrets were destined to affect his sons, regardless of his good intentions. But the idea of him doing this voluntarily was beyond him. For him, they were simply products of things he wanted to move beyond. Reconciling this would take a very long time, if it was possible at all. While a part of him was relieved to be free of the burdens of his past, he wasn’t surprised that remnants of his past folly still remained, affecting those around him.

He decided to change the topic. There were larger issues to deal with right now than his feelings towards his oldest child’s decisions, especially when his own mistakes had directly influenced or caused many of them. This cult needed to be dealt with. He needed to know who they served before this escalated any further. If they had found V once, who was tk say they couldn’t do it again? He had the feeling they hadn’t gotten rid of them all just yet. Things in his life were never quite that simple.

“I get the impression that this isn’t over,” V said quietly, attempting eye contact from underneath his fringe. It was slight, but it was still enough to draw Vergil’s attention,” This is only the beginning.”

Vergil nodded, standing up and taking a few steps towards the sidewalk. He would have to check in on Magnolia tomorrow. The doctors were optimistic. He stopped a few feet away, glancing over his shoulder to check on V. The younger man was watching him quietly from his position on the stairs, seemingly considering their conversation. He seemed to be deep in thought.

“... We should head back,” Vergil said quietly, more or less at a loss of more profound things to say,” ...Are you coming with me?”

The young summoner nodded a few times before carefully standing up, soreness, lethargy, and fatigue settling in. He was becoming more and more exhausted by the moment. The prospect of receiving a restful night’s sleep after eating more of Kyrie’s scrumptious cooking was very appealing. He made his way down the stairs, being mindful not to trip and fall. He wasn’t eager to reopen his wound after it had finally stopped bleeding. The bandage that covered it was doing an admirable job. He joined his father and they headed off without a word, an uneasy peace settling over them. They would need each other’s help to find the answers they were both searching for. But for now, they were going to head home. Kyrie was supposedly making a pie for dessert, and neither of them were willing to miss that. Cult be damned.

-~-

Sorry that the chapter is a little late tonight. Honestly, I dozed off after spending all of last night working on it. There’s quite a learning curve to writing on a tablet. IT TAKES FOREVER. But it’s okay because we only have one more chapter to go before book two starts! I look forward to seeing you all again on Wednesday for the conclusion of this fic and so I can tell you what’s going to happen from here on out! And as always, sorry for any errors! Thank you for sticking with me this long. I’m genuinely touched by all the support you continue to give me. Have a great day!

[thecardsimagine]

So, I actually replayed the book just to be sure I get most of the details right, though still sorry if I miss something because it’s been a while lol. Not really sure if you meant the request as in “Asra finding the MC at the lazaret” (dead) or “Asra finding the MC after the ritual” (alive) but I went with the latter, the topic is angsty enough itself lol. Also, this is of course vaguely interpreted with what I think could possibly happened, and I describe something I think needed to be prepared to bring them back, so take it with a grain of salt! Enjoy!

A disaster through and through.

That was the only thing that could describe the ritual that had just happened, and Asra still coughed as he walked out from behind the portrait, leaving it open for the people coming after him. Behind him, roaring shrieks where to be heard, though he couldn’t waste the time to look behind and watch what was happening. After all, his instruction had already been planned and it was now Julian’s time to shine.

Though his steps were shaky and his body shifted from side to side, Asra managed to reach the door. His mind and body still remembered where he had to go, even if his consciousness was still blurry. The ritual had gone wrong, fatally so and he did not want to stay to see the end of it. Because for him, the ritual going wrong meant...

He had been successful.

In fact, he could feel it in his chest and in his emotions, that it had succeeded. He had managed to sabotage it and get the bargain he wanted. A wave of relieve washed over him, just knowing he had done it, though he could barely feel the excitement and happiness anymore.

The longer he stood and walked, the more steady he became. His steps became more securely, his pace fastened. Soon he was walking straight, then hurrying, then running. Two steps at once at the stairs, down into the main hallway from Lucio’s wing. A sharp left, the next right. Two doors pass. In less than two minutes he had made his way in a completely different part of the castle.

There were guests standing around, some of them concerned, hushed voices. They paid him no mind, he was just another crazy guest after all. And yes, in his pursuit he was frantic, but no matter who he passed, Asra couldn’t spare a single thought for them. All he was thinking about was them. Like a mantra, his mind repeated the one hope he had.

Please be safe, please be safe, please be safe...

The path from the wing to his room was burned into the very essence of his being. Alone that night he had walked in countless times before the ritual, never passing up a chance to see them. Or, at least what was left of them.

When he ran against the door to his guest room, finally, he regained his composure. Asra didn’t look around to see the people staring at him, who had just loudly run against a door, but he smoothened his outfit, pushing the mask a little further into his face. For a second, a hint of insecurity overcame him. What would he say, what would he do?

Where they still angry? Would they even want to see him? Did he look good? He could feel the sweat pearls running down his temples, finally noticing his ragged breath and tense muscles. Even though he could not see himself, he didn’t look so good, he didn’t feel so good. Asra felt like puking, overcome with disgust and shame.

If - under any circumstances - he were to find nothing but their bones inside of the room, was he any better than a grave robber? A maniac? A necromancer? What if the ritual had gone wrong, but so had his deal? And what would he tell them, that he had gone a path he should have never set foot on? Would they believe it? Would they hate him?

It didn’t matter. His hand on the door handle tightened and he pushed it open after a moment of hesitation, slipping into the room like a snake. It was quiet, so very quiet. The room was only illuminated by the light from one of the window, the other curtains were pulled close. He could have risked their remains shattering into dust from more influences of them.

But it was so quiet, he could only hear his own breath and he feared for the worst as he approached the area of the bed. Success? he heard Faust’s voice, coming from a nearby night table, where he had put her to make sure nothing happened. “I am not sure,” he whispered, his voice dry as was his throat. He reached down to the fabric and for a second he heard the soft crunching of sand.

But there it was. Not hard bone, not only dust twirling up into his lungs. Flesh. Soft, tender flesh. Skin touched his, muscles twitching under the pressure. “[Name]?” he whispered, tears shooting up in his eyes. Panic erupted in his stomach as there was no answer from the being on the bed and Asra scurried to the windows, tearing open the curtain to bring some light into the situation.

And there they were. It was really them, from the birthmark he knew about, to the tip of their hair, everything was exactly like he remembered it to be. Their eyes were closed, chest rising under the blanket he had used to cover the remains.

Asra came closer to their body, dropping to his knees. For the first time in days that he had planned this, he allowed himself to cry. Big, ugly tears streaming down his face, accompanied by big sobs. He didn’t mind Faust as she snaked around his neck, pushing her head against his cheek to comfort him. All he could do was cry out their name over and over, taking their hand in his and rocking back and forth next to their bed.

Next thing he felt was a twitch in their hand, their face turning into a frown as their eyes slowly opened. Immediately, Asra was up, hovering lightly over them. “[Name]! [Name], you’re awake, how are you feeling?” Their eyes came to a completely open, staring at the ceiling before slowly moving towards him, fixating on their face.

A gurgle escaped their mouth as they seemingly tried to speak, but no words could escape them, and Asra inched closer, picking up their torso with the most tenderness he could muster, cradling them in his arms. “It’s okay now, everything will be fine,” he mustered to say as his voice turned back to sobs while the tears streamed down his face once again. “I fixed it, [Name]. Everything is okay...”

He wasn’t sure if they even understood what he was saying, their body hanging lifelessly in his strong hold. But maybe it was more comfort for him than for them, to just hold their still rather cold body in his arms, knowing he had succeded with his plan.

They were back, and this time, no one would take them away from him again.

[aria-i-adagio]

Ch. 22: There Was a Time When The Pieces Fit

Fandom: The Arcana

Chapter Rating: PG-13

Wordcount: 5500

Previous Chapter  Masterpost  Next Chapter

The next morning, the markets are busier than usual, especially in the neighborhood where the tailors ply their trade.  Vivid fabrics are hung outside of windows, framing interior displays of elaborate costumes, and multiple temporary stalls hawking masks have appeared, cluttering the sidewalks and pushing foot traffic into the street proper.  Asra walks close, holding my hand.  I’m easier in crowds than he is, at least, normally, when I’m in a decently good place.

“Is this what Vesuvia used to be like?”  I ask.  He’s mentioned more than once that the city had never quite recovered after the plague.

“Closer.  The masquerade was always good for business.  You always liked it.”  Asra pauses to look at a row of masks hanging in a stall.  “Never cared much for shopping for clothes otherwise.  But costumes were different.”

That sounds accurate.  Nadia and Portia had added more to my wardrobe selections in one week than I had in the past three years.  And admittedly, the dark grey leggings and blousy green top, Portia had suggested this morning was once again nicer than anything I would have chosen, while still being practical enough for an excursion to the city and wherever Asra’s friend lived.

“Did you ever try to help me get my memories back?”

Asra’s hand tightens around mine, thumb running over my knuckles.  “Yes.”

“What happened?”

“It was a couple months after, after it happened.  You weren’t talking much yet, but you were reading all the time.  I gave you a stack of your old journals, old letters, some that hadn’t been opened.  You seemed fine, so I went out to the market to pick up a few things.”  He stops and lifts my hand to his mouth, pressing my fingers to his lips.  “When I came back, you were curled in on yourself, around a book I can’t read, shaking and sobbing and holding your head, and I couldn’t get you to stop.  Artemis couldn’t get you to stop.  You wouldn’t talk, we could barely get you to eat, you wandered off in the night, and I couldn’t find you for hours.  Whatever it was you had found, it was too much for you.  That went on for nearly two weeks, and then, I -”  He steps back against a wall, pulling me with him, and wraps his arms around my shoulders.  “I found a way to make you forget again.”

“You did what?”  I jerk away from him, heart pounding and blood rushing to my face.  “I remembered something and you took it away!”

“Dema, listen, whatever it was that you remembered - It broke you again.”

“Goddammit, Asra!  How dare you, how fucking dare you!”

“Should I have left you like that?  Barely with us.  Even Artemis thought -”

Fucking hell, Artemis too.  “So you held a vote?  Is that supposed to make it any better?  That you decided to take back something of my life.  Something of who I am?”  I turn on my heel and stalk away from him, back into the foot traffic of the street.  I don’t actually care what his answer is.  I found something of mine.  And he decided to take it away from me.  My temples start to pound.  Light bursts behind my eyes and my vision drops away for a moment, returning to me, but bringing with it a crushing vice.  A hand catches under my elbow as a stagger and guides me away from the crowd, to a quiet alley.

“Shh . . .”  Cool fingertips ghost over my temples.  “Dema.  I’m sorry.  I’m so sorry.”  

I turn my face away from him.  “Don’t make me forget again, Asra.  You don’t get to make decisions for me.”  His fingers trace along my jaw.  “Don’t, or I swear to God, I will find some way to remember what you’ve done, and you will never see me again.” 

“I won’t.  I promised.”

I let him tilt my face back to him.  His eyes are bright and intense and, I think, honest.  He means it.  Or at least, I think he means it.  I want to.  I close my eyes and breath deeply, willing the worst of the headache away.  “Okay, let’s go get Julian.”

*** 

Julian answers the door to Mazelinka’s hut, stooping low to fit through the frame.  “You're here.  You got away okay?”  He grabs my shoulders and looks me over carefully, as if I might somehow have been injured walking through the palace gardens last night.  He peers carefully at my face, then his eyebrows lower.  “Are you alright?”

“I am.  Just got upset at something in the market.”

“She's fine, Ilya.”  Asra's voice has a hard edge to it, as if he's responding to something more than Julian's current concern.

“Asra!”  Julian's one exposed eye goes wide.  “You, you're here.”

“No, Ilya, I'm a hallucination.”

I look over my shoulder to glare at Asra.  “Would you quit?”

“Here now, what's this?”  Mazelinka pulls Julian back into her house.  “Huh.  There’s two of you.  Well, do you need an invitation, come on in?  Tell me you’re here to take this boy off my hands, he’s driving me crazy.”  She looks Asra up and down and chuckles.  “Hmm, you’re a colorful character, aren’t you?” 

Julian works his way to the back corner of the room, as far from Asra as he can manage.  Asra ignores him in favor of surveying the contents of Mazelinka’s kitchen, which to be fair, are anything except mundane.  Mazelinka watches him with an amused expression on her face.    

I follow Julian and slide my arm around his waist.  He smiles and pulls me against him, hands running over my shoulders and back, but he still looks worried, even as he leans over and kisses the top of my head.

“Did you get any sleep?”

“Surprisingly, yes.  Mazelinka didn’t even have to sneak a potion into me.”

“Asra thinks a friend of his might have some information that will help you.”

“Asra?”  He looks across the room where Asra has actually started opening the jars and containers hodgepodged on the shelves.  “Asra is going to help me?  He can’t stand me.”

 Mazelinka swats Asra’s hand away from one enticingly large crock with her wooden spoon.  “Mind yourself, child.  That might be what I keep the grumpkins in.”  Asra pulls his hand back and tries one of his smiles on her.  She simply arches her eyebrows in response.  His usual tactic of charm isn’t going to work on her.

  “Asra.”  His attention turns to me when I say his name, and his face tightens, I assume from seeing Julian with his arm around me.  “Where does the friend you mentioned live?”

“The forest.  Walk is an hour or so.  Maybe a little more.”

“And you, uh, you think he has information for me.”

“I know he does.”

“Hmph.”  Mazelinka doesn’t sound especially impressed.  “I suppose you’ll need lunch.”  She shoves a basket at Asra and gestures to the table.  “Make yourself useful, that garlic won’t braid itself, and I need to get it hung and drying today.  You two help him.  I’ll pack you something to eat.”

Julian fills two mugs with coffee before joining us at the table.  He sits down next to me and slides one the mugs into my hands.  “Um, sorry, Asra, I don’t think there’s any tea ready.”  Asra rolls his eyes hard enough that I’m surprised to not hear them rattling in his skull.

Mazelinka appears beside us with a small teapot and a cup which she sets in front of Asra.  “Ilya, I know you were raised to be better to guests than that.  Now, go get the other basket from out back.” 

Julian rolls his eyes easily as dramatic as Asra, gulps down some of his coffee, and gets back up, heading to the back of the house.  Asra selects three from the basket and lays them out on the table, beginning to work the long stalks into a tight braid.  He raises his eyes to me.  “I really am trying to help.”  He adds a fourth bulb to the braid, then pours tea for himself.  “Please say you believe me.”

“I think I do.  I want to.”  That might as well be my new mantra as far as Asra goes.  I want to.

Julian drops another basket on the table and glances over at Asra’s work.   “Not like that.”  He lifts the braid off the table and starts to add another bulb.  “You don’t want a flat chain, the bulbs should sort of, uh, spiral around.  “Didn’t your mother ever teach you this?”

Asra freezes then his hands start to shake.  The temperature in the room seems to drop by several degrees.  “My parents disappeared when I was eight.”

The air could be cut with a knife.  Faust raises her head from where she’s been hiding in Asra’s shirt and hisses at Julian.

“I, um, Asra, I’m sorry.”  Julian sits back down next to me and picks up several garlic stalks of his own, deftly working them together into the start of a chain.  “Sorry.”

Asra takes drink of his tea, sets the cup aside, and picks his own braid back up.  “You didn’t remember.  You were kind about it when you knew.”  A heavy sigh.  “I’m sorry too.  I never meant for things to end up like this.”  He blinks rapidly then takes another sip of his tea.  “I didn’t know.”

I reach across the table and touch the back of his hand.  He’s still trembling.  “What happened?”

He shakes his head, then laughs.  It’s bitter and hollow and haunting.  “Here’s the worst thing:  I don’t remember either.”

“You don’t remember.  Remember what?”

“What happened at the last masquerade.  Not any detail.  I know I did something.  But not what.”

“Asra, in the library, I found a note in your handwriting in an old -”    

Mazelinka drops a large bundle in front of me, cutting off the question before I can finish it.  “That should feed the lot of you.  Make sure Ilya eats.”  She punches him playfully in the stomach then ruffles his hair when he doubles over dramatically.  “Now, get out of here and leave an old woman in peace for a bit.”

Outside, I stop to work Mazelinka’s bundle into a string bag I keep in my pocket.  Asra kneels down to examine the herbs outside of the house: rosemary, oregano, parsley, and several other more specialized plants.  “Ilya, you never told me your grandmother was a witch.”

Julian looks up from petting a chicken that scratching through the yard looking for scraps and insects.  “What?  Mazelinka’s not a witch.  Those are just herbs.  Classic cooking, you know.”

“If you say so.”

“What are you doing here?”

“Dema asked me to help.”  A goose starts toward Asra, honking madly, wings raised and flapping like a landed fish.  Asra jumps up and backs away, hands stretched out before him in appeasement.  “I thought about sending you on some elaborate scavenger hunt for the fun of it, but Faust talked me out of it.   Come on, we’re headed for the forest north of town.” 

***

The forest begins as olive groves, younger trees on the outskirts that are carefully tended, surrounded by soft, low growing grass.  Further back the tree start to lose their careful order, gaps left behind where trees have died and been removed.  A few that have fallen on their side have been neglected where the olives give way to the twisting trunks of cedar and finally to forest giants that shade the floor, cooling the air and obscuring the time of day.  Cedar resin and the earthy scent of leaves breaking down scent the still air.  It’s soothing - grounding and peaceful.  The same natural spell seems to be working on Asra, who is contentedly humming a tune as he walks beside me.

“Asra, who's this friend?  I don't remember meeting anyone who lives out in the forest.”

“Muriel.  You've met him.”  Asra pauses, drapes Faust around my shoulders and kneels down to gather an herb from beside the pathway.  “Recently.  But people forget him.  He's under a spell.”  He digs around the base of a plant with five leaves centered around a cluster of red berries.

Julian is several paces before us circling around a tree and talking to himself about the size of it.  He pauses and pulls his glove off, touching the papery bark that hangs in strips from the gnarled trunk.  I stroke Faust's smooth head.  To be forgotten?  That might be worse than forgetting, at least I still have people who care about me - a few anyway.  “That sounds awful.”

“It's what he wanted.”  Asra lifts a twisted branching root from the soil.  Ginseng.  “I'm not sure why the spell excluded me, but I'm glad it did.  He's my oldest friend.”  He stands, shakes the worst of the dirt from the root, and tucks it into his bag.  “And, I’m glad your two are meeting.  Again.”

“Dema, Asra,”  Julian's voice is uncharacteristically quiet.  “Did either of you hear that?”

“Ilya -”  Asra sounds annoyed again.

I put a hand on his shoulder and touch a finger to his lips.  I can hear dry leaves crunching off to the side of the pathway.  Faust coils tighter around my shoulders.  “Danger.”  Heeding her nerves, I put my hand to the knife at my belt.  I can see Asra’s fingers twitching with the beginning of a spell.  He leans over, picks up a rock and lobs it in the general direction of the noise.

A crack of a branch snapping then a rustling of dried leaves and brambles.  A large figure - indistinct, but somehow I know that the trees are doing me a favor, blocking the sight of something my mind wouldn’t be able to make sense of anyway - runs in the opposite direction.  There’s the smell of death - decomposition - in the air, not the natural return of vegetation to soil, but something sick and wrong.  Julian jumps in front of me, but before he blocks my line of sight, I can make out two glowing red eyes.  Asra runs after the creature, light crackling around his hands.

“What was that?”  Julian’s hands are firm on my shoulders.  He’s scared I might go running after Asra.

“Large, white - was it Lucio?”  I didn’t really think so.  It seemed larger, and somehow much more menacing that the Count’s half mad shade.

Julian shakes his head.  He’s biting his lip and looking around nervously.  “I think it may be worse.  Much, much worse.”

“Who?”

His eye darts to the right, like he’s searching for a word that he can’t find.  One gloved hand slid down my arm as I raised one of my hands to his chest.  His heart is pounding, faster even than mine.

Behind me leaves crackle as Asra runs back to us.  I can feel his warmth at my back.  One of his hands closes around my shoulder and the other reaches past to touch Julian’s arm almost tenderly.  “Are both of you alright?”

“I’m okay.”

A moment of quiet as Asra presses his lips to the top of my head.  “Ilya?”

“Yeah, yeah.”  Julian opens his eye again.  “I’m, um, I’m alright.  What was it?”

“I don’t know.  The sooner we get to Muriel's, the happier I will be.”  He turns away from us and sets back off down the path.  Julian finally notices Faust wrapped around my neck, jumps in surprise and then follows Asra.  I stroke Faust's head again, more to reassure myself than her.  She's a very sensible snake, after all, probably the most sensible in our little traveling circus.

***

Thunder rolls in the distance and the leaves in the top of the canopy rustle as heavy drops of rain begin to fall through them, reaching us after they’ve whispered their way through the trees.  It’s a summer rain, the falling water is warmer than the forest cooled air around us.  Asra begins to hum again, mood improving rapidly.  And my own follows as a splash through a puddle of water.  I’ve always loved the rain, longer than I can remember.  I’m sure of it.  I cup my hands in front of me and funnel enough water into them with magic to sneak up on Asra and splash the back of his head.  He spins on his heel and retaliates, pushing a burst of rain into my face then reaching over to brush the water droplets from my cheek.  The game continues as we walk, rain pushed and pulled by magic in waves around us until we’re both soaked and giggling like small children.        

Julian watches us in disbelief and wraps himself tighter in his coat, shaking his head.  On the pretense of stopping to look at a plant, Asra drops back behind him.  He gathers a floating sphere of water.  With a devilish grin - the most genuine expression I’ve seen on his face today - he drops it on Julian before jogging back up and grabbing my arm.

“What the hell!”  Julian splutters.

I look back over my shoulder and smile sweetly while batting my eyes.  I’ll play along with Asra’s prank.  “What, darling?”  Julian’s auburn curls are plastered to his head and turned nearly black by the water. “Oh, you’re drenched.  Have you been walking in the rain?”

“You two are impossible!”

“I have no idea what you’re talking about.”

“Oh, you don’t?”  Julian looks around then seizes opportunity in the form of a broad leaved plant that caught a sizable amount of water.  He sntches it from beside the path and tosses the water back at Asra before using his height to knock bat at a limb over Asra’s head shaking more water down on him.  “Ha!”  He grins at having figured out a way to join in us.  “Thought I couldn’t get you back.”

Asra laughs in delight.  “Clever, Ilya!”  He runs further down the path, Julian with another of the broad leafed rain catching plants held in both hands.

“What do you think, Faust? Shall we lock them in a room together until they fight it out? Or fuck it out?”

Faust turns her head to me and brushed her tongue against my cheek.  “Fuck?”

“Yeah. That's where my money is.”

Asra calls my name. I roll my eyes and trot after them, before one - or both - decide to come back and pull me after them.

***

Asra stops in front of an ancient tree.  Ten people with their arms outstretched might be able to circle it - might.  “Here we are.”  A rough dwelling of tightly stacked but unmortared stone, is built into its roots.  Asra goes to the door and begins to trace a series of sigils on it.

“Your friend is a magician too?”  Julian doesn’t sound overly pleased.

“Mhum.  This kind of thing is his specialty: wards, protections, anything like that.”  His tracings light up like fire for a moment, then fade into the door.  Asra pushes it open a crack and calls out a greeting before opening it entirely.  “He’s not home, but it’ll be okay if we wait inside.”

The inside is small, but tidy and meticulously organized.  The ceiling is high, built well up into the hollow of the tree.  Julian doesn’t have to stoop, either going through the door or once inside.  Shelves are built along the walls, one corner houses a bed piled high with comfortable looking furs and the opposite one has a table and chairs built plainly from rough hewn, but strong, wood.  Across from the door the remains of a fire glow gently in a stone hearth.

Asra goes to one of the shelves and picks through the contents.  He finds a piece of clean, dry toweling and presents it to Julian, presumably as a peace offering.  “Go ahead and sit down.  I’ll get some firewood.”

I set Mazelinka’s bundle down on the table and let Faust, languid from the cool rain, down beside the hearth before taking the towel from Julian.  “If you sit down, I can actually reach your hair to dry it off.”

“You know, I could do that for myself.”  Despite his grumbling, he takes off his coat and sits down in one of the chairs.  I step between his legs and toss the fabric over his head, scrunching and rolling his hair between the layers.  Worst of the damp wicked away, I drop the towel on the table and finger comb his hair back from his face before kissing his forehead.

“Better?”

“Much.”  He looks me up and down.  “You look like a drowned kitten, yourself.”

“Still breathing though.”

“Yes but -”  He takes the towel off the table and dabs at my face.  “You’ve got to be cold.  Look you’ve even got gooseflesh on your arms and your -”

“Decolletage?”

“What?”

“Chest.”

“Oh, yes, well.”  He smirks and leans his head forward to kiss my collarbone then lays his cheek against my chest, as his hands wrap around my waist.  “It’s a perfectly normal physiological reaction, but a sign of the body trying to preserve heat...”

I laugh and cast a spell that wicks the water from my clothes and into the air.  “Julian, I’m fine, I pro -”  

My protest is interrupted by the door of the hut being kicked open by quite possibly the largest man I’ve ever seen.  Julian lifts his head.  The space suddenly feels much smaller.  He’s carrying a bundle of fur in his arms and has a scowl on his face.  Is this Asra’s friend?  He looks at us, shakes his head as if he isn’t surprised, then promptly ignores us to lay his burden down - very gently - on the fur piled bed.  Straightening back up, he looks both of us over with melancholy green eyes.  “What are you two doing here?”

“Umm, we’re with Asra.  He went to get some firewood.”  There’s a canid whine from the bundle he set down.  I peer around his bulk.  Curled in the furs is a large, black wolf.  Her snout and side are covered in blood.  “Is she hurt?”

He smooths a hand over the wolf’s back and doesn’t reply.  It was a stupid question on my part.  I hope Asra gets back soon.

“I might able to help her.”  Julian ventures cautiously standing up from his chair.  He pulls off his gloves and touches his throat.

The man glares, eyes going hard as he kneels down beside the wolf, cautiously pushing fur away from the wound in her side.  “Don’t. Touch. Her.”

The wolf whines again, more piteously this time.  The big man strokes her head and his eyes soften again.  He looks like he might cry himself.  “Please, Muriel -”  That was the name Asra had said, right?  “Let him help.”

“He can help Inanna, Muriel.”  Asra pushes through the door with an armload of firewood.  Does he know about the mark on Julian’s neck and his ability to heal?  I don’t think I told him.

Muriel gives Julian a decidedly skeptical look, then nods.  Julian approaches the wolf, hands held out and up in front of him.  She snarls at him, then calms as Muriel strokes her back.  Julian kneels beside them and lets the wolf sniff his open palm before speaking softly to her.

“That’s a good girl.”  He runs his hand lightly over her bloodied side.  “You must be in a lot of pain.  It’s okay, I can help you.”  He presses his hands against her side and closes his eyes.  The mark on his throat glows briefly, and jagged, bloody gouges appear on his arms.  He manages to stand, then staggers back.  I grab his upper arms, hoping that the cuts don’t go that far up and help him back into the chair.  The wounds are already healing, but they’re deep and clearly not the good kind of painful, and there’s blood seeping into one side of his shirt.  He leans over, elbows and his knees, and head in his hands.  I rub his shoulders in sympathy.

Muriel checks over Inanna carefully, examining each paw and opening her mouth.  Finally, he nods in satisfaction and looks back at us.  His eyes are still stormy but no longer acutely miserable.  “Thank you.”

“Ah, don’t mention it.”  Julian grans and leans against me.  “Got to be good for something.”

Asra walks over the hearth and sets down his load of firewood.  He picks up Faust and curls her around his shoulders before adding a log to the embers.  It catches quickly, flames lick up the sides curling through the dry, stringy bark.  A ringing, thin and reedy, begins in my ears, quickly swelling along with the flames.  My vision goes fuzzy, darkening around the edges, and the room suddenly feels far away, and I’m falling . . .

Hands at my waist stop me from collapsing into the floor.  I blink rapidly, clearing my vision enough to see Julian looking at me.  His one uncovered eye is wide with worry.

“Dema?” Asra looks at me, face filled with concern.  “Shit.  I didn’t think.”

“I’m . . . I’m okay.”  I take a deep breath, steady myself on Julian’s shoulder, and drag a second chair to where I can sit, and Julian will block most of my view of the hearth and the fire burning in it.  I take one of Julian’s hands and busy myself with checking on the still healing wounds.  The wolf must have been hurt badly.  Julian’s watching me with concern, but his face is tight with pain and for once he isn’t talking.  “I’m fine, really.”

“Okay.”  Asra doesn’t sound convinced.  “Umm, introductions. Dema, Julian, this is my friend Muriel.  Muriel, Dema and Julian.”  Muriel doesn’t look impressed.  Asra sighs and leans over to scratch Inanna between the ears.  She licks his hand in greeting.  “What happened to Inanna, Muriel?”

“She got a bite of something, and it got a swipe at her.  Big, white thing, but I couldn’t get a good look at it, moving too fast.  She says it tasted foul.”

Asra and I exchange a look over Julian’s shoulder.  Big, white, and fast moving describes the absolutely unnatural creature we saw just now.  I look at the wolf with newfound respect.  She is brave if she attacked that thing.  Of course, now she’s curved next to Muriel, licking his arm like the gentlest of lap dogs.

“Muriel, have you checked your wards recently?”

“Just now.  When I sensed something threatening in the forest.”

“All of them?  Even the one at the top of the tree?”

Muriel’s lips twist.  “Forgot that one.”

“We should probably go check that one as well.”

“Why don’t we eat lunch first?”  I suggest.  The gouges on Julian’s arms have closed up, but he still has his head clutched in his hands again, and his skin is even paler than usual.  “Muriel, we have a packed lunch, there’s plenty to share, I’m sure.”  One thing that I’ve noticed the hut is missing is anything recognizable as food.  I start unpacking the bundle from Mazelinka, happy to have something that diverts my attention from the fire, even if the flares of a new log catching have died down to a steady crackle.  There’s a fresh loaf of bread, cheese, olives, a crock of hummus cleverly sealed up with beeswax, and - oh! - fresh cherries.

“That’s a good idea.”  Asra sits down on a bench on the other side of the table, and Muriel cautiously joins him.  I break the bread into four roughly equal pieces and hand them around, nudging Julian gently.  He raises his head and grins weakly at me when he takes the bread.  Across the table, Asra gives half of his own piece of bread to Muriel and says something about having had a really rich breakfast at the palace that morning.  True, but I can tell he’s concerned about the lack of food in the dwelling.

After we’ve finished eating or mostly finished, I’m polishing off the last of the cherries; Asra, knowing how much I love them, ceded his share to me - Julian pulls out the key we found in the library yesterday.  

“Have either of you seen this before?”

Asra looks expectantly at Muriel.  Muriel looks down at the table, responding with his eyes averted.  “Yes.”

We wait a moment, but he doesn’t continue.  

“Care to elaborate?”

Muriel rolls his shoulders.  “It was . . . the night of the fire.  Asra sent me to find you.”

Julian looks over at Asra, eyes flashing with anger and confusion.  “You were there.  Why don’t I remember any of this?”

Asra responds with silence.  He’s keeping his face still, but I noticed a slight twitch of surprise when Muriel said that Asra sent him for Julian.  Is this one of the things that Asra has forgotten?

Muriel speaks again, staring off into some unseen distance. “Asra gave me the key.  Sent me down the dungeons to get you.  You’d been locked up, and you were half dead, delirious and talking about laughing ravens.  Brought you - dragged you - to a private dining room, where -”  He stops, closes his eyes, and takes a deep breath before continuing with his eyes still closed.  “Something happened.  Something I don’t understand.  And I don’t like.  Nadia, him, the court, Asra had them all gathered.  After, Lucio staggered up a staircase.  I followed.  I wanted - it doesn’t matter what I wanted.  You and the Consul ran after me.”  Muriel’s gaze drops, and Asra curls his hands around Muriel’s much larger ones.  “At the top, Lucio was already in flames.”

Asra watches Julian intently.  Julian is silent for a long moment before speaking slowly.  “The fire -”  He pauses and starts over again.  “The fire had already started.  It had already started!  I’m - I’m innocent.”  He holds up his branded hand, considering the mark.  “I’m innocent.”  

One of his hands traces across his eyes; the other touches his throat.  A strange, fey look passes over his face, and he pulls the eyepatch off, blinking rapidly in the light.  Neither Asra or Muriel appear surprised by the state of his eye.  “I remember now.  I was in the dungeon.  Lucio locked me down there to find a cure for the plague.”  He looks particularly pained as he says the words, as though he felt shocked and betrayed by that action.  “I wasn’t working fast enough.  For him, or for me.  And -”  His voice trails off.  He glances up and to the right before looking directly at me.  “- I found it.  I was dying . . . but whatever it was I found it must have worked.  I’m alive and the plague is gone.”  He grabs my hands and presses his forehead against them before looking back up.  His mouth, hanging open in wonder, slowly curls into a triumphant smile that then turns to a laugh.  “I didn’t kill Lucio.”

Across the table, Asra is smiling faintly, one hand still curled around Muriel’s in reassurance.  Muriel still stares off into the distant, expression stricken.  Recalling that night must have been truly painful for him.  Sensing his mood, Inanna comes to the table, and nudges his leg until he reaches down and curls one hand into her fur.

“I’m afraid that’s not quite true.”  Asra’s voice is hesitant.

Julian turns away from me to look across the table.  “What do you mean?”

“The plague being gone.  I think . . . You remember the red beetles?”

I’ve heard of the beetles with their glossy carmine shells.  They infested the city during the plague, appearing at the same time the water turned red.  Beside me, Julian shivers, and his face pales again.  “Yes.”

“The past several days, while I was gone.  I passed through one of the villages nearby.  Their well had gone dry, and they asked me for help to try to restore the water.  Beneath it, I found more water.  And a swarm of the plague beetles.”

We’re all quiet for a moment, letting his words sink in.  Julian speaks first.  “Had anyone in the village sickened?”

Asra shook his head.  “Not when I left.  I thought Nadia needed to know.  And then when I return, there’s an ongoing manhunt for you, and Lucio’s ghost is manifesting in the palace.”

Julian leaves over the table and pinches the bridge of his nose.  “Oh, that’s, that’s bad.  Awful.  Um, we’ve got to find that dungeon.  I don’t remember where it is.  It’s coming back, I think, maybe, but everything - everything is still foggy.”  He grimaces and rubs at his temple.  It’s a look that I find all too familiar, and I rub the back of his neck as he continues.  Maybe that will alleviate some of the headache.  Helps mine sometimes.  “Whatever I found, whatever the cure was, it could still be down there.  Asra?  Muriel?  Do either of you remember where it is?”

Muriel just shakes his head.  Asra frowns.  “I wish I did, Ilya.  I might - I should, especially if the plague may be coming back, and Lucio is somehow trying to reenter the world, speak with my master.”

“I want to check that last ward.”  Muriel says quietly.  “And maybe cast runes.  See if they’ll tell me anything.”

Asra nods.  “Usual place?”

“It’s safest there.”

“Okay then.”  Asra rises from the table and steps behind Muriel, folding his hands over the massive shoulders and squeezing them.  “Up for another bit of a hike?”

Next Chapter

A/N: Chapter title from Tool, “Schism”

[veiljumpernyssa]

Luceo non Uro - Chapter 1

Concilio et Labore (by Wisdom and Effort)

Relationships: Asra/Apprentice

Rating: Mature

| Read on Ao3 |

~

The crowds were rarely avoidable in Vesuvia during the day, especially in the central district, but they were particularly bad at this time of year. Even after sunset when the night market opened to the crowds of the Masquerade, the bustle was almost overwhelming.

Daya ducked and weaved through the throng of people, hopping to and fro across the boards placed above the canal. Her purchase she cradled close to her chest, and the smell of the hot, fresh bread made her stomach rumble. It was her luck that the market was open almost constantly during the days of the Masquerade, if only because it gave her something to do at night. The vendors always made a killing when the Count’s birthday celebrations rolled around, after all. Artisan bakers made cheaper versions of the delicacies served at the palace, tailors sold costumes of chiffon and cheap gold leaf, and winemakers offered tastings of rare imports from Atapra and Milova. A sea of fluttering costumes, glittering baubles and painted masks surrounded her, dazzling her with the colours and patterns of a hundred people. It was enough to be overwhelming. The palace had to be worse, surely…

For a moment Daya glanced wistfully at the stone stairs that wound out of sight, all the way up to the palace. What would it be like to wander the gardens in an elegant costume, she thought, perhaps dancing in a glittering ballroom and eating tiny sandwiches.

“Keep dreaming,” she said out loud, and blushed at the odd look a passing reveler threw her. As if she would ever be invited to the Masquerade--as if she would ever have enough money for fancy dress! And who cared about tiny sandwiches, anyway?

If she dawdled any more the bread would get cold, and the fortune-teller might disappear into the night--not to be seen for another year, maybe more.

The shop was open late for once, the lantern still lit with an iridescent blue flame, and when Daya glanced at the side window she could see the faint, blurred outline of her aunt striding past. But it wasn’t time to go inside. Not yet. She slipped past, shoes padding silently on the cobblestones, and around the back of the building.

To her relief the booth was still there, a hastily constructed thing of a few upturned barrels and a tent poles draped with blue and purple cloths. She’d seen him setting up just after dawn, though the window’s frosted glass turned him into little more than a sunlight-dappled figure. When she’d gone to run errands later that day there had been a line; old men and mothers and a few street urchins shoving and pushing each other. Even though it was after dark the streets were still full of people, but...nobody lingered at the tent now, and the flap was still fastened to allow entry. Daya hesitated a moment, brushed away the shyness that clutched at her chest, and ducked inside.

There was barely any room inside the tent and yet, all she could see of its occupant was a pair of shoulders and a head of fluffy white curls, both illuminated by a central light that hovered above them. Then the drapes fell back with a rustle, throwing the space into darker shadows, and the fortune-teller straightened up. She caught and held his gaze; eyes of purple with delicate white eyelashes.

God, he was young. Barely into adolescence, she realised, about the same age as she. His gaze dropped to the bread in her hands, and Daya blushed.

“Here,” she said, and hastily shoved the bundle at him. “You’ve been working here all day, and I thought you might be--this is from my favourite baker.”

He looked so surprised it was almost comical, and for a moment he just stared down at the wrapped bundle.

“It’s pumpkin bread,” Daya added. “The best in the city. Well, I think so, anyway.”

The fortune-teller unwrapped the linen cautiously. His fingers dug into the loaf, pulling it apart, and the scent of warm spices filled the tent. He closed his eyes, inhaling. A dimple flashed in his cheek.

“It smells amazing,” he said, when he opened his eyes again. “You didn’t have to do that. Thanks.”

“Nonsense,” Daya said, and sat herself on the nearest barrel. “Everyone deserves to eat. Besides, you’ve been bringing customers to the shop. My aunt should be thanking you.”

He placed the bread on the makeshift table between them and began to tear it into smaller pieces. Half of the pieces he wrapped up and tucked away into his bag. He offered her a piece from the remaining half, and began to eat the rest enthusiastically.

“This shop is your aunt’s?” he asked between bites. The bread disappeared at an alarming rate, confirming her suspicion that he hadn’t eaten all day.

Daya shook her head at another proffered piece and swung her legs idly, then started as the barrel wobbled.

“Magic ingredients, potions, spells, and divination,” she said. “She’s been teaching me a few things.”

Her lessons were supposed to have begun an hour ago, but he didn’t need to know that.

The fortune-teller looked at her curiously. “You can do magic?”

“Ah, sort of. I’m still learning.” She watched him pick crumbs off the table, and something like pity stirred in her chest. “What’s your name?”

The flash of a dimple again. “Asra. And yours?”

“Dayana. But you can call me Daya, if you want.”

“Daya,” Asra said, almost to himself.

The scarf at his shoulder rose upwards, and moments later a serpent’s head peeked out. Its tongue flicked, tasting the air, and it looked around with red eyes. Asra appeared completely unsurprised, glancing down and smiling.

“Who’s this?”

Asra lifted one finger to stroke under the snake’s chin. “This is Faust. She’s my familiar.”

“Oh,” Daya sighed, somewhat enviously. “I wish I had a familiar. She’s beautiful.”

Faust yawned widely, slithered down Asra’s shoulder and deposited herself on the table. He looked cautious for a split second as the snake brushed over Daya’s arm, cool and smooth...then visibly relaxed.

“I’m glad you’re not afraid of snakes,” he said by way of explanation. “Some people are. You said you don’t have a familiar?”

“Not yet. I wish.”

“Not every magician finds their familiar right away, but it’ll be worth it once you do.”

Asra brushed the remaining crumbs off the table, then opened his hands. A deck of cards splayed out between his fingers.

“Let me read the cards for you.”

“Oh, you don’t have to,” Daya began, pulling the barrel closer, “but if you’re offering, I’ll say yes.”

He smiled. “It’s the least I can do. Do you have a question you want answered?”

Daya shook her head and leaned forward eagerly, hands clasped on the table. She’d seen her aunt read the cards for customers before, and some of her spreads were far more complex than she could hope to create. Most people who came for fortunes, however, preferred the simple three card spreads: past, present, future.

Asra shuffled and cut the deck with practiced ease. Daya watched avidly as he laid out the cards facedown; four in a square and one in the centre.

“An archetype reading,” she noted. “The five aspects of the self. The persona, the shadow, the opposite energies, the heart’s desire.”

“That’s right.” He smiled at her, and flipped the first card. An image of a snake curled around a polished wooden stick. It reminded her of his familiar.

“The Queen of Wands.”

“Yes. A person of focus and passion, drawing others into her orbit.” He smiled. “Or their orbit, if you prefer.”

Daya shrugged. “I don’t care which.”

Asra flipped the second card.

“The Seven of Swords, reversed. The second card, the shadow. A secret shame, or a refusal to acknowledge a situation or a truth. This can represent...running away from a difficulty instead of facing it.” Asra gave her a sly look. “An example would be avoiding magic lessons and having your fortune told instead.”

There was a split second in which they looked at each other, then burst out laughing.

“You got me,” Daya said, grinning widely. “I’m avoiding my aunt right now. I should have known I couldn’t hide from the cards.”

“Not these ones, at any rate.” Asra flipped the third card. “The World. Opportunity, success, and a journey. But in this specific context…” he paused for a moment, hand hovering over the illustration. “A suggestion, to be proud of all you have accomplished thus far.”

Their eyes locked again, and Daya felt a shiver run down her spine.

She wasn’t new to the reading of the cards. Tarot and other divination techniques were part of her lessons: she read runes, bones and tea leaves also. And from time to time, Daya had spent her spare coin on happiness or success readings at some of the other fortune-teller booths found at the central market. Those were for idle curiosity, and the vendors little more than snake oil salesmen. She knew how to spot genuine skill, and Asra had it. Her eyes dropped to the fourth card, and she watched in anticipation as he turned it over.

“The Eight of Pentacles, reversed.” This time he looked up, a mischievous glint in his eye. “A struggle to maintain focus. Do you think the cards are trying to tell you something?”

“That’s the point, isn’t it?” she retorted, and he laughed. Deftly he flipped the fifth card...then sat back, rubbing his chin thoughtfully.

“The Fool,” he said after a moment.

"Wow. Rude.”

Asra glanced up at her uncertainly, his white eyebrows quirking. He relaxed when he saw her grin. “You scared me for a second.”

“I’m learning the cards, remember? I know what the Fool means. A cliff’s edge, with limitless potential for the future, if I only make the leap. Am I right?”

“Yes. You have all you need to move forward.”

Daya sat back, mirroring his pose, and watched as he gathered up the cards.

“May I?” she asked into the silence.

Asra paused in the middle of shuffling the deck, and his gaze fell upon her outstretched hand. For a second she thought he would refuse. It was somewhat of an audacious request, if she knew anything about magicians and tarot. But then he smiled and passed the deck over.

“Are you going to practice on me, Daya?” he asked, teasing.

She laughed. “I can try.”

Her fingers closed over the cards-- then a sudden rush of wind extinguished the lantern, throwing the booth into darkness.

It was magic, she realised. Pushing and pulling within her like a tide; rolling over her in a heady rush, tingling and warming under her palms. She gasped involuntarily, squeezing her eyes shut

The light returned moments later, throwing wild, swinging shadows over the booth. Daya drew in quick, ragged breaths.

“Mmhm,” Asra said. He had an air of smug satisfaction about him, as he leaned his chin on one hand. “I thought so.”

She threw him a quizzical look but he said nothing further, so with a shrug she began to shuffle.

“Past, present and future,” she said, and let the cards flow through her hands. She could almost hear her aunt’s voice.

Relax. Empty your mind and let the cards speak to you in the silence.

She’d had trouble reading the cards most days, but this deck...this deck was special. How else could it have reacted to her magic?

Daya drew three cards, face down, and chose the far left. The Five of Cups.

“You had a great loss, many years ago,” she said tentatively.

A flicker of pale eyelashes; otherwise no reaction from him.

“Someone who was important, and sometimes, it seems as if pain is all you will ever know or feel.” The words came unbidden, drawn from her mouth in a whisper. “Sometimes...it’s easier to keep hurting, because hurting is infinitely less terrifying than feeling nothing at all. Hurting means the loss meant something. It made them real, and it keeps them alive, in a way.”

Asra said nothing. Embarrassed, Daya swiped at her eyes and let go of the card. “I’m sorry. That was totally inappropriate. Um...should I continue?”

A soft, tentative reply. “Please.”

Turning the second card took more courage than she cared to admit. The Magician stared up at her in the form of a fox, a small smile playing around its mouth.

“The Magician,” she said, and Asra’s eyebrows rose. “For your present.” Daya tapped her chin with one finger and closed her eyes, exhaling slowly. “You’re...performing an act of creation, shaping something from nothing. A place of pure magic, created from and shaped by your willpower.”

Asra’s eyes widened. “Huh.”

“I know...I’m not making much sense, I’m sorry. I still have trouble with my focus, as the cards pointed out.” She turned over the third card. “The Hermit, reversed.”

This time the words were easier to hold on to.

“The Hermit implies solitude, even when upright...reversed, it represents a deliberate isolation. A withdrawal from the world.” Frowning, she glanced up at him. “If you aren’t careful, you could lose your connections to this world...or fail to form new ones.”

Asra was silent for a long moment, staring thoughtfully at the cards laid out before him. Then he smiled. There was no hint of mischief in his expression, only interest.

“I thought you might have the skill for tarot,” he said, “and I was right. You’re the real deal.”

Daya opened her mouth to reply--then the slap of feet on cobblestones made her pause. More and more footsteps; some hurried and some leisurely. The sound of flutes floated from around the corner, clear and high and melodic. Voices growing louder.

Curiosity drew her up, and she peeked outside. Asra had picked a good spot for fortune-telling, that was for sure--the booth opened up to the wider part of the street, giving them a good view of the marketplace. Her skin prickled as she felt Asra’s presence at her shoulder.

“Look,” he said, pointing. She followed his gaze to a glittering carriage making its way past, headed for the town square.

“Fancy,” Daya mused. “Do you think it’s the Count? I’ve never seen him before.”

“The Count?” Asra said. “I don’t think so..”

There was a strange note in his voice she couldn’t quite pick out, but then he brushed past her and she promptly forgot in her curiosity. She followed him out into the street and joined the crowd gathering to watch.

The carriage was close now; close enough to snatch glimpses of its passenger. A cascade of violet curls. Brown skin. A long nose and elegant fingers. Red eyes.

“She looks like a noble,” Daya murmured, and Asra hummed beside her. “I wonder who she is.”

“Dayana!”

The sharp, rich voice rang over the mutter of the crowds. Daya blushed violently as several people turned to look at her, then above--to the woman leaning over the balcony.

“Ah, it seems I’ve been caught.”

Asra laughed.

A little awkwardness settled over them as they turned back to face each other. A few moments of silence, then Daya finally spoke.

“Same time next year?”

Asra laughed again, quieter this time. “Who can say?”

“Even if I don’t see you...” she offered her hand, and he took it. “Thank you, Asra. I’ll take your advice if you do the same for me.”

“I will,” he promised.

“Dayana!”

“Coming!” Daya called, and let go of his hand. An awkward smile, one more glance and he disappeared back inside the tent. The flap unfastened and fell over the entrance, and the light went out.

She went back to the shopfront, extinguished the lantern with a snap of her fingers and turned back to watch the carriage disappear around the corner. The last thought before she crossed the threshold was of purple eyes reflecting the lantern light, and a strange feeling in her chest that could have been intuition.

It wouldn’t be the last time she saw Asra, though--she was certain of that.

[ryder-s-block]

Jaig Eyes (Ch 9)

Jaig Eyes (Ch 9/?)

Always available here

Chapter Nine: The Blue Shadow Virus

“Kida,”  Padme whispered to me, my eyes opening slowly. I became aware of my surroundings suddenly, my arms tied behind my back and my body sore from sitting on the hard ground. “Kida, are you alright?”

I cleared my throat, letting out a small cough. “Yeah, I think so. What...what happened?” I became aware of the mask still over my face, my breathing labored within it.

Padme, who was tied to the same post as myself and Representative Binks, went to answer, but was cut off.

“Ah, she awakens!” the scientist cried with glee, steepling his fingers as he moved to examine me.

“What did you do to me?” I asked through gritted teeth. While I felt relatively normal, I knew something was wrong. Something deep inside me, whether it was my own body or the force, was telling me that something terrible had happened.

“I am performing an experiment,” the Faust said, holding up his spectacles to peer at me. “I infected you with a small dose of my virus. Contained to your mask, of course.”

“What have you done,” Padme gasped. “You’ve murdered her!”

“Have I?” the doctor asked rhetorically, his hands pulling my head to the side in thought. “She’s been infected for over an hour, yet despite initial loss of consciousness at the potency of the dose, the specimen shows no signs of infection.”

“What?” Padme breathed, shocked.

I wrenched my head to the side, pulling free of his grasp. “I guess your little virus doesn’t work as well as you’d hoped, Doctor,” I mocked.

He steepled his fingers with a smile. “I assure you, it does. Though I admit, I am excited to watch what my virus does to your biology. There were rumors that your kind once held certain...immunities.”

“My kind?”

“What do you mean when you say ‘her kind’?” Padme asked for me, her brows furrowed.

The Faust let out another strange laugh, his head thrown back. “I wonder if the process will just take longer. That would be more painful,” he mused, ignoring our questions. “But I’d love to watch.”

“I’m Correllian, you dinii,” I spit. “My biology is human!”

He held up a single, slender finger with a smile. “Part human.”

I opened my mouth to demand clarification when the entire bunker rattled, the echoes of an explosion racing down the halls. The Faust rushed to a panel as the room rumbled.

“We have a breach!” he cried, sirens sounding. “All droids to hatch number one!” I glanced at Padme, the force rippling with a familiar presence. Feisty. Strong-willed. Intelligent. Ahsoka. “Friends of yours, I assume,” the doctor continued, snatching up a bio-helmet. He pulled it over his head, the air filtration systems engaging with a hiss. “They arrived quicker than I would’ve thought.”

The bunker continued to rumble as I felt more force signatures enter the area. A noble presence. Wise. Cunning. Sarcastic. That must be Kenobi. A third familiar signature arrived that billowed strength, the force practically rippling around him as he neared the area. I’d recognize Skywalker’s presence anywhere. It was hard to miss, frankly.

Ahsoka’s presence drew closer. She was in the bunker. And someone flanked her. A presence I hadn’t felt in months, but could recognize at the drop of a pin. Kind. Curious. Noble. Strong. Determined.

Rex.

The sounds of fighting echoed through the halls, the Faust locking down his control room and calmly pacing as he waited. The powerful presence of Skywalker approached, the jedi soon appearing behind the translucent door and cutting through it with his lightsaber. The door fell in, Skywalker immediately halting as he saw us all tied up.

“Padme!” he called, clearly panicked.

“Take another step,” the doctor, clad in his bio-helmet, threatened. “And your friends die!” He pulled a lever, the pillar we were attached to electrifying. Padme and Jar Jar screamed in agony, my teeth clenching against my own yells. It wasn’t like I hadn’t been electrocuted before. I could handle a lot of pain, after all.

Of course, it still hurt like hell.

“Drop your weapons,” the scientist demanded smugly. The clones didn’t seem ready to comply.

“Wait,” Skywalker stopped them, his gaze intense on our writhing figures. “Do as he says.”

As the electricity stopped coursing through my body, the doctor moved about the room, leisurely storing away some of his virus as the droids lined up the clones and the jedi. “I realize I won’t be able to hold you for long, Jedi,” he said casually. “That is why I’m going to give you a choice.”

“Fine with me,” Skywalker spit. “As long as one of the options is killing you.” I breathed heavily, my body sore and tiring. Was that the virus taking effect? Still, nothing could keep me from thinking how un-jedi-like Skywalker often acted.

“How about,” the Faust returned, approaching the lever again. Oh boy. I braced myself as he reached for it. “Capture me, or save your friends?” He pulled the lever, the electricity sparking back to life immediately. The doctor ran from the room as Skywalker rushed forward.

The jedi dove between the droids, all of them opening fire immediately. I tried to watch as he pulled his lightsaber to him and began to destroy the droids, his soldiers jumping in to help, but my vision was beginning to blur.

Suddenly, the pain stopped, Skywalker having thrown a destroyer into the control panel. “Are you okay?” I glanced up through hazy vision to see him gently holding Padme’s cheeks. His eyes were wide. Desperate. Afraid.

“Ani,” Padme sighed. “How about the next time you rescue me before you kill all the battle droids.”

He scrunched his nose, but was clearly amused, gently rubbing his knuckles over her cheek. “A little ‘thank you’ would go a long way.”

“Thank you,” I butt in, tilting my masked head to see him fully. “But could you get me off the pole of death now?”

Anakin severed the chains that held us with his lightsaber, helping Padme to her feet. “Grab your blasters,” he said to his soldiers. “We need to find that doctor.”

“Anakin, wait,” Padme argued softly, touching his shoulder. “Kida…” She paused, making them both look at me, still clad in my mask. “She’s been infected.”

“What?” He seemed shocked. “How?”

“The mask,” I answered, tapping the side. “He put the virus inside the mask. Said he was running some experiment.”

“What do we do?” Padme asked. Anakin didn’t look like he knew an answer that would please her, so I stepped in.

“For now, nothing,” I said curtly. “I keep the mask on so no one else gets infected. We can’t have this getting loose. For now, I’m okay. So we find the doctor and stop him from hurting anyone else.”

“But you-sah-” Jar Jar went to argue, but I held up my hand.

“We can figure out me later. Right?” I looked at the jedi, who nodded his head with determination.

“Let’s go,” he said, leading us all out of the control room. Still, as we ran through the labyrinth, I could feel Padme’s mix of emotions. Anger. Anguish. Fear. I pushed it away so I didn’t start feeling the same way.

Skywalker’s wrist comm pinged, Kenobi’s voice coming through. “Anakin,” he said, sounding annoyed. “I’m guessing you didn’t capture the doctor.”

“I’m working on it,” Skywalker said, equally annoyed. “Do you have the bombs?”

“I’m working on it,” Kenobi returned with sass. “Doctor Vindi has remotely activated the bombs. They’re counting down!”

“That’s great.”

“And on top of that,” the jedi master continued through the comms. “One of them seems to be missing.”

“Well, it’s down here somewhere. Ahsoka, we’ve got another situation.” He glanced at me. “Send all the clones to search the facility. We’ve got a miss-” he stopped suddenly as we slowed, nearly running into Ahsoka and her squad...who included Rex. I kept my gaze away.

“Master?” Ahsoka asked.

Anakin continued as if nothing changed. “We’ve got a missing bomb and the trigger-happy mad doctor on the loose.”

“Senator,” I whispered. “The servant droid.” Her eyes widened before turning to Anakin.

“Missing bomb?” she jumped in. “We saw Doctor Vindi give a little droid a bomb.”

“An LEP servant droid,” I added in from behind the senator, giving Ahsoka a nod in greeting. She seemed confused at my current facial attire, but said nothing.

“You guys split up,” Anakin ordered. “Find that droid.” The jedi and his men ran by us, Padme and Jar Jar staying put.

“You heard him,” Ahsoka shouted to her own squad. “Let’s move!” I felt Rex’s gaze stay on me for a moment before he followed his commander, but I ignored him. I was going to die. Why allow myself to further the strange connection I’d felt since I first met him?

“Might as well try and find that bomb,” Padme mused out loud, gesturing for us to follow. We raced in the opposite direction the others had gone, my muscles beginning to feel sluggish. I pushed it away, not wanting to let the senator know that I was beginning to feel the effects of the virus.

Jar Jar slowed ahead of me as Padme kept running, but I was grateful for it. My body was tiring quickly. An excuse to stop was nice.

“What is it, Jar Jar?” I asked as he started sniffing around and entered a room on the side. “Senator!” I called, Padme turning to see we’d stopped.

“Ooo!” Binks exclaimed excitedly. “Something smells good in here.” He entered a room filled with plants and I rolled my eyes. He stopped for a snack. Of course.

Still, as if the stars always wanted me to be mocked by Jar Jar, I heard a faint ticking before feeling a spike in the force from Padme. “Hey there, little guy,” she said, kneeling to see below a table. Jar Jar and I approached from behind, spying the little LEP droid crouching with the missing bomb. “How about you hand that over to me?”

It seemed to contemplate for a moment before letting out a feral-sounding yell--something I wasn’t aware a droid could achieve. Padme and Jar Jar backed away, the Gungan’s leaping body slamming me backwards into a table.

“He’s getting away!” Padme cried, Jar Jar leaping off of me and lunging after the droid. He wrestled with it, successfully pulling it away before accidently chucking it across the room. Thankfully, Padme caught it, her face victorious. “Ahsoka,” she said into her comms. “I found the last bomb.”

“Stay there,” came the padawan’s voice. “I’ll get the bomb squad.”

Padme placed the bomb down on the table, watching it carefully while Jar Jar went back to looking for bugs. My knees nearly buckled as a sudden wave of nausea came over me, but I fought it away, disguising it as casually electing to lean on one of the table opposite the bomb.

By the time Ahsoka and Rex raced in with the bomb squad, my breathing was getting more difficult, my body just wanting to sit down for a second. Especially now that it was over. That I didn’t have adrenaline pulsing through my veins. I didn’t have to save anyone anymore.

The thought donned on me that I might not be saving anyone ever again. I was going to die. There was no cure for the virus, and while it seemed the effects were taking longer to set in on me...for whatever reason...they were definitely happening. What if Vindi had been right? Would whatever my apparently weird biology was make this even worse? It would just be longer and more painful?

Typical. As all other things in my life had been.

“You alright?” Rex asked as the bomb squad went to work, his helmet coming off. “You look pretty upset for someone who just won.”

I wiped the despaired expression off my face and gave him a forced smile. “Captain,” I said warmly. “It’s nice to see you again. How’s your shoulder?”

He gave me a small grin. “Good as new. It’s also been some time, you know.”

“Yeah,” I breathed, looking back as the bomb ticked down. “I know.” I also knew we were making small talk to mask our nerves about the last bomb.

One of the clones-one from Obi-Wan’s 212th division-revealed some wires and snipped them clean, the bomb ceasing in its countdown. “There,” he grunted, looking back at us with relief. “And plenty of time to spare.”

The room let out a collective breath of relief, Jar Jar even going so far as to collapse. Despite my rather grim situation, I couldn’t help but smile gently.

“Ahsoka, are you there?” Skywalker’s voice asked through the padawan’s wrist comm.

“I’m here, Master. The bomb has been deactivated. Did you find Vindi?”

“Deactivated as well.” He sounded smug. “Have you seen Padme?” I rolled my eyes. They were the furthest from discreet two humans could be. Still, I couldn’t help but feel warm at the genuine smile that came to the senator’s face when he asked about her.

“She’s right next to me,” Ahsoka answered, seeming disgruntled. “I’m okay, too. Thanks for asking.”

They logged off, Ahsoka going about organizing her men to the cleaning up of the illegal lab. I assumed Skywalker and Kenobi would deliver Vindi to the Republic while Padme remained to watch over the operation here.

“Kida,” the senator spoke softly, approaching me. “Maybe you should go with Anakin. Coruscant hospitals may be able to-”

“Padme,” I said gently, cutting her off. She seemed surprised I used her first name in front of everyone. “With all due respect, you and I both know that they don’t know of any cure for this.” Some of the clones’ heads turned my way in shocked curiosity. I found myself glad that Rex had left with Ahsoka already. “So if it’s alright with you...I’d like to stay here with you. I’ll serve you for as long as I can.”

“You don’t have to do that,” Padme said, shaking her head. She sighed sadly, looking down before gently grabbing my hands and holding them between us. “Don’t you want to go and...be with family? Friends?”

I thought for a moment. I thought of my club that was basically running itself now, since I was almost consistently somewhere with the senator. I thought about Boba...who hated me for letting his father die.

“I already am,” I responded, wanting to stab myself for being so sappy and emotional. But hey...I was going to die. So who cared anymore?

Padme swallowed thickly before nodding, giving my hands a final squeeze, and putting on a brave face. Ah. Maybe now I could understand how she managed to be queen of Naboo. Jar Jar approached, gently touching my shoulder in attempt to be encouraging. While I thought he was a buffoon, he was a nice buffoon, so I smiled.

“Senator,” one of the bomb squad clones called from the table. “You should see this. It’s one of the virus bombs.” He showed it to us, revealing it to be empty.

“It looks like the chamber that holds the virus is missing,” she thought aloud.

“I bet I can guess what took it,” I mused, looking up at the clone.

He understood what I meant. “That droid must have taken it!”

“Sound the alarm!” Padme called. The siren erupted through the compound as the clones split off to search for the damned droid. My senses began to spike. Something was happening. And it was very very bad.

The compound rumbled, the floor shaking below my feet. The green colored alarm shifted to red, my eyebrows shooting up. “Uh oh,” I voiced. “That’s a virus leak.”

“Seal the room!” Padme ordered, to which I immediately reacted. I raced to the panel, locking down the botany room we were alone in. Reading off a computer, I sighed in relief.

“No contamination in here, Senator,” I called to her. “But you two might want to put on your hazard suits.” They both nodded, donning the suits on the walls while I tried to access the rest of the lab from the panel. “It looks like Ahsoka managed to shut down the lab. Nothing got out.”

“Good,” Padme breathed from inside her suit before activating her comms. “Anakin, can you hear me? Anakin?”

“Padme,” he responded immediately. “I’m here. Are you alright?” Jar Jar raced around the room, panicking as he tried to find his helmet.

“Yes, for the time being.” I grabbed Jar Jar by the collar and shoved the helmet over his head, snapping it into place for him. “Jar Jar and I were in a safety chamber when the alarm went off. We’re wearing protective suits.”

“The virus is loose,” Anakin sighed, though I could hear his relief. “But Ahsoka has sealed off the entire facility.”

“Yes, but any remaining droids will try to break out.” Padme made a good point, my eyes immediately floating to my gear that one of the clones had fetched for me. “I’ll do what I can to stop them. I cannot let that virus escape.”

“Be careful,” Anakin pressed.

“Don’t worry, Skywalker,” I finally said, speaking up as I donned my pistols. “I’ve got her back.”

I heard the jedi hum. “How are you feeling?”

“Like I was infected with a deadly virus,” I joked darkly. “But I’m not one to go down easy.”

He was quiet for a second before sighing. “I don’t doubt it. I’ll do my best to find a cure.” I didn’t respond as they signed off, Padme leading everyone to the door.

“Come on,” she called to the us. “We’re going to find Ahsoka. We’ll need her help to find those droids.”

The doors hissed open, blue mist pooling in around us. I followed the senator out, one pistol drawn. We rounded a corner, a few droids clanking down them in a confused line. “Hi!” I shouted, making them turn before I opened fire. It took longer than usual. “Kriff,” I cursed to myself.

“Are you alright?” Padme asked, her hand touching my arm.

“Fine,” I breathed, despite feeling tired and worn. “I just can’t see with this damned thing.” I knocked the mask with my fingers a few times before realizing a terrible truth. I sighed slowly before removing the mask, breathing in the contaminated air.

“What are you doing?” Padme gasped.

“I’m already contaminated,” I said aloud. “Might as well be able to see the damned droids, so I can shoot them before I die.”

Sure, the humor was grim, but it was that or sit around in despair. And it got Padme off my butt.

“Is anyone out there?” Padme said into her open comms. “Can anyone hear-”

“Senator Amidala!” Ahsoka’s voice called through the channel. “We’re trapped in a safe room at the end of complex B.”

“We’ll be right there!” Padme responded, giving me a hopeful smile, despite the sadness in her eyes whenever she looked at me. Apparently my face gave her a thought. “Are you contaminated?” she asked softly, her voice dreading the answer.

It was silent for a moment before Ahsoka responded. “I’m afraid so.”

MANDO’A

Dinii -- lunatic