#Bombastic side eye followed by a side of tantrum

[nammanarin]

Malleus shifting to his fae form for the first time solely to give Lilia the most dramatic bombastic side eye for serving him home cooked food.

In my head, anyway 😂

I really want to know at what age dragon fae shift forms…

[ruffboijuliaburnsides]

And Yet, Here We Are (pt4)

One day... one day the fluff will come... but it is not this day.

More voiceless!Jaskier because I am apparently incapable of not trying to get this story out rn, apparently?

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 4) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) Now on AO3

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“We should get moving,” Geralt said, pushing himself to his feet and offering Jaskier a hand up. “Might be a job in town I can take.”

Right. Because Geralt was still a witcher, and unlike their usual travel arrangement where Jaskier could make enough money to pay his own way (and even Geralt's if money was tight and there weren't any monsters to kill), Jaskier was left relying on the handful of coins he had left and whatever Geralt had or could scrape up. Jaskier pulled in on himself, his expression going pinched, an ache spreading in his chest.

He didn't have any plans to leave Geralt, obviously, especially since the witcher had such a determination to find a way to get his voice back, but it hadn't really hit him that he didn't have much of a choice. Or that Geralt, who was despite appearances and protestations a kind and compassionate person, couldn't leave him in good conscience even if he hadn't already determined to fix things.

It didn't change anything, not really, but it rankled, to think about how few skills he had and how impossible it would be for him to survive right now if he went off on his own.

Geralt crouched across the campsite, gathering his things into his pack until he glanced up at Jaskier and frowned, his eyes searching Jaskier's face. Jaskier moved jerkily, methodically packing up what few of his possessions had been unpacked last night, not wanting to be subject to the scrutiny - or at least not to be aware of it.

"All right, Jaskier?" Geralt asked, his frown clear in his tone.

Yeah, Jaskier said instinctively, then slowly stilled, hands hanging limply at his sides. He hadn't actually tried to say anything since that first day, and the shape of the easy response in his mouth without any sound but the soft exhalation of breath...

"Jaskier?" Geralt repeated, growing concern in his voice. Jaskier waved him off without turning around, resumed his packing and tried to ignore the ache in his chest spreading and intensifying until he was surprised he was still moving and could do anything other than curl into a ball and gasp for air. He couldn't hear Geralt move for a few seconds, but then he heard the familiar sound of Geralt hoisting Roach's saddle up onto the mare's back, and Jaskier let out soft sigh. Geralt was being attentive and gentle and part of Jaskier was desperate for it. But part of him just kept thinking about how he doesn't know of anything that could undo a djinn's magic and how he was pretty sure Geralt didn't either.

They'd travelled together on and off for over a decade, but they'd always spent a few weeks here and there apart, never mind the months in the winter that Geralt would return to Kaer Morhen for whatever it was witchers did all winter. Before he found Geralt at the lake, they hadn't seen each other in nearly a month. Now Geralt had a self-imposed responsibility to fix this, and a mute and relatively helpless Jaskier who couldn't really go off on his own or be left behind for very long at a time.

How long until Geralt started to resent him, and every way he was about to seriously change Geralt's lifestyle in a way he hadn't before?

Jaskier shook himself out of that line of thought after what felt like only a few moments' thought, but must have been longer, because Roach was saddled and packed, the ashes of the fire buried, and he was standing empty-handed in front of his lute case. He couldn't tell if he'd just mindlessly continued to help striking camp or if Geralt had done it around him. He sucked in a sharp breath, and picked up the case so he wasn't left just standing there staring dumbly at it; hopefully that sort of moment wasn't going to become common in his life now.

He started to sling it over his shoulder, but Geralt's hand on his arm stopped him. He frowned up at Geralt, confused, but all the other man did was take the lute case from him, near-reverently, and then went to where Roach stood and carefully but securely lashed it to the top of their packs. Jaskier didn't know how to feel, seeing it up there instead of feeling the weight of it against his back. It was his, it was part of him as much as-- well, as much as his voice had been. Might as well be missing that as well, right?

All the same, as they returned to the road and silently began the last leg to the next town, Jaskier felt like he could breathe better without the reminder of it slung over his shoulder.

The first order of business, according to Geralt, was getting a room at the inn, then Geralt would ask around about work.

"You need paper," Geralt said as they reached the outskirts of the town - really it was barely a village from the looks of it, and Jaskier had the sinking feeling they may not have much luck on that front. "But a room and food comes first," Geralt continued. "And we don't have enough for both yet. So I'll find a lead on work, and we'll get paper after I get paid."

Jaskier had the fleeting thought that this was probably the most explicit Geralt had ever been with him about plans, and oh it only took this to get him to communicate even a little bit? But that wasn't fair - Geralt was aware that Jaskier couldn't exactly ask for more details or clarification if he was as vague or reticent as he usually was, and was trying to make up for it. It was disappointing to hear, but it wasn't like there was much to argue, or much ability he had to argue even if he wanted to. Maybe he could throw a temper-tantrum like a spoiled five-year-old and stomp his feet and refuse to move, but he could use some warm food and a drink, so instead he simply silently followed Geralt as he made his way to the one tiny inn in the village.

Jaskier was used to - when he wasn't exhausted - entering inns a few seconds ahead of Geralt with his lute already out of her case, bombastic and enthusiastic and charming. It helped set people a little bit more at ease when it came to Geralt, or at least distracted them. People had gotten a sight more accepting after "Toss a Coin to Your Witcher" had caught on, but they still got nervous, and couldn't generally said to be friendly. Coming in silently on Geralt's heels was unnerving, especially given the not especially friendly looks they got from the locals. Mostly directed at Geralt, admittedly, but a few of them looked at him with narrowed eyes, like he was suspect himself simply for being in a witcher's company. He got that look sometimes anyway, but most folk were willing to roll their eyes and let him be at least, an eccentric bard who writes fantastic songs and ballads.

It was hard to accept that he wasn't that, anymore.

"Only got one room free," the innkeeper was saying to Geralt, and Jaskier found himself nervously closing the distance between himself and Geralt under the weight of the locals' gazes.

"It's fine," Geralt said, putting some coins on the counter. "Know of anyone with my particular kind of problem?"

"Not I," she responded, sweeping the coins into her pocket and retrieving a key, heading to the stairs to show them to their room. "Tanner just got back from the next town over. Bigger there, got a manor house and all. He might've heard something."

"Appreciate it," Geralt rumbled, and the innkeeper unlocked one of two doors at the top of the stairs. Jaskier smiled gratefully at her at she stepped back to let them enter. Jaskier entered the small room, clean at least, and set his bag and lute down at the foot of the bed. "Can my friend get some food and an ale when he comes down?"

"Sure," she said easily, pocketing another coin as Jaskier turned around. "Just cold sliced chicken sandwiches until supper's cooked, but the bread's fresh."

"Fine," Geralt said, then added as the innkeeper turned to leave, "Thank you." He was clearly working to be more polite, if nothing else, and Jaskier wondered if it was because he felt self-conscious without Jaskier able to be charming and polite, or if he was worried that Jaskier would have trouble if he was too grumpy. Jaskier wasn't sure he wouldn't have trouble anyway, but no point going down that particular road.

Geralt didn't bother to close the door, just checked the straps of his swords, probably more out of habit than an expectation of running into trouble. Or at least, Jaskier hoped so. "I'll go see the tanner," he said. "Let you know if I get any good leads. Might head to the next town if it's close enough and it sounds worthwhile." Jaskier grimaced, thinking about the couple of days minimum that would take, and it didn't sound like he planned to take Jaskier with him. Geralt pressed his lips together. "It's cheaper to keep a room here," he explained. "And probably safer. Just stick to the village proper. I'll let you know if I find anything before I go anywhere."

Jaskier sighed and rubbed his face with a hand. He understood the request to stay inside the village, since he didn't have much in the way of combat abilities, and now he couldn't even shout for help should something happen. And of course Geralt would assume something would happen - in his defense, they often did when he was around. Jaskier had gotten through a lot of his life that Geralt was not around for with a minimum of issues or near-death experiences, but he wasn't interested in tempting fate either.

"I know," Geralt said, voice softening from his business voice to something sympathetic and gentle. "You shouldn't have to be confined even that much. I'm just--"

Jaskier waved him off, exasperated. There was no need for Geralt to explain, especially sounding so much like he cared. Which obviously he did, Jaskier knew he was about the closest thing he had to a friend outside the witchers themselves, but his voice going soft like that just made Jaskier hope too much.

"All right," Geralt relented. "Go eat something. Be back soon one way or another."

Jaskier waited until Geralt had turned and had started down the stairs before he flopped back onto the bed, letting it support him as he convinced himself it was a good idea to go downstairs and get the food and drink Geralt had already paid for. The bed wasn't the nicest, but it was softer than his bedroll, and he was already feeling exhausted somehow despite only walking for a few hours and not doing anything. Maybe he could just sleep until Geralt got back. Then he wouldn't have to think about... well, any of it.

It was tempting, and he almost gave in to the desire, but the door was open and Geralt had paid for the food already and would probably fuss if he hadn't eaten yet when he got back from his search for rumors of paying monster hunting jobs. Jaskier would've groaned as he sat up and pushed himself to his feet, if he could've, and made his way downstairs reluctantly.

"Ah," the innkeeper said when she saw him at the bottom of the stairs. "You get yourself a seat, I'll have food right over for you, lad." Jaskier thought privately that the innkeeper didn't look that much older than him, probably barely 40, but just nodded and found the unoccupied table the closest to being in a corner to tuck himself up in, a ways away from other patrons, who all seemed to be sizing him up.

A few seconds of subdued conversation passed before one of men called out, "'Ey, boy!" Jaskier glanced up despite himself. At least he only looked curious and a little... hopeful? "You that bard what travels 'round with the White Wolf?" Ah. They were hoping for a performance, and Jaskier couldn't breathe, wanted to claw his skin off and disappear. Everything was wrong, and people knew what he looked like, or at least what Geralt looked like, and--

"Oh, leave the boy alone," the innkeeper scolded as she came over with a plate and a mug. "Even if he were, he'd let you know if he were in the mood to play for your stingy arse." The man grumbled, but turned back to his drink, and Jaskier gave the woman a crooked grateful smile that he hoped expressed how much he didn't want to have to answer that question. "You never mind them," she said. "Nosy lot, but they don't mean no harm. You need anything else, dear?" Jaskier shook his head, and she hesitated for a moment, maybe wondering why he hadn't said anything since he walked in, but turned without asking, stopping by the curious man's table to scold him further in a whisper.

Whatever conclusion she'd come to about why he was so quiet, Jaskier decided he liked her quite a lot.

He was done with the sandwich and halfway through his ale when Geralt came striding back in and scanned the room until his eyes landed on Jaskier. As purposeful as he seemed making his way to the table, Jaskier could only guess he'd gotten a good lead.

"Next town over has a wraith," Geralt said gruffly, and Jaskier nodded in understanding. Geralt took his coin purse off his belt and pushed it over to Jaskier. "Should only be a couple days, four at the most." He hesitated, like he wanted to say something more, but laughter broke out at a nearby table and apparently reminded him that they weren't alone in the woods. Jaskier wondered what he'd wanted to say. Instead, Geralt just clapped him on the shoulder, then turned and walked out of the inn.

Jaskier swallowed hard, facing the prospect of a silent few days alone in this village he didn't even know the name of, praying to any god that would listen that Geralt would be all right and come back. He tossed back the rest of his ale and grabbed the coin purse as he stood and made a beeline for the stairs.

"Everything all right, luv?" the innkeeper asked, apparently concerned, and he managed a tight smile and a nod. He didn't want to be down there anymore, with people who might ask questions, even just to be friendly. He didn't want to risk gossip about him showing up with Geralt leading to more questions about whether or not he was 'that bard'.

He closed and locked the door, then flopped face-down on the bed. This was fine. He was not a wilting flower, he was better than this. He wasn't going to get mobbed for not being able to speak, and anyone who was curious about him would probably feel too awkward to bother him once it was clear he couldn't answer. But he still couldn't stand the thought. At least Geralt knew him, and could guess more or less what he was feeling, if not what he was thinking.

Jaskier kicked his boots off, then pulled the pillow to his chest and curled around it, suddenly wishing for Geralt's solid warmth at his back, keeping him grounded, making him feel safe and like things might eventually be okay again. Instead, he felt like he was bleeding out of his body, turning into mist that could be blown away with the slightest breeze.

He didn't move for a long time after that.

(Part 1) (Part 2) (Part 3) (Part 5) (Part 6) (Part 7) (Part 8) Now on AO3

[celticcrossanon]

Will Prince Harry Attend Remembrance Day? Draft, WIP

This is speculation only.

Practise spread - we will see how much I get written up.

Celtic Cross Spread

Spread drawn at  approximately 4.15am on the 15th of September GMT

Cards used: The Mythic Tarot (the cards are based on a version of Greco-Roman mythology; the descriptions are more the mixed, popular culture version of mythology than the original myths, so keep that in mind as you read the interpretations below)

All interpretations taken from the book that came with the cards

*

The Celtic Cross had 3 Major Arcanas out of 10 cards, so while this is significant for the BRF and will be played out on the world stage, it is not hugely significant for them (only 1/3 or so of the cards were major arcana). Of the remaining 7 cards, there were 3 Cups, 2 Swords, and 2 Wands. No Pentacles. So this is not about money, it is about family and emotions and being nurturing (Cups), long-term, strategic planning (Swords), and the image that is communicated to those outside the BRF (Wands). Repeated numbers were two Sixes, two Twos, and two Nines. I usually only consider repeated numbers if they repeat three or more times.

*

Bottom of the Deck - Overall Theme - Strength (Card 10)

This card shows Heracles wrestling with the Nemean Lion in a cave.

The lion can represent royalty, even at its most destructive, i.e. Harry. The lion is also the infantile, savage, and completely egocentric beginnings of individuality, i.e. Harry's attempts to 'find himself' as a person and all the damage these attempts have caused to others. The lion here is the Nemean Lion, which possessed a hide that no weapon could pierce, giving it a shield of invincibility, i.e. Harry's position in the Royal family. Here the Nemean Lion stands for a "Me First" drive that will happily destroy anyone and anything in its path, as long as its gratification is assured. One of the manifestations of this "Me First" drive is an furious, explosive, rage-driven tantrum when the person does not get their own way. Another is bombast and an inflated sense of self importance, making the person savage and unrelenting both towards the people on whom they are dependent (i.e. Harry and the BRF) and the people [who they see as] stealing their limelight (also harry and the BRF).

Heracles wresting with the lion shows the struggle we all face to subdue the lion's unbridled individualism and make it serve a higher purpose; the need to subdue our desires and care for others so that together we can form a caring and responsible community instead of being a collection of individuals running rampant and destroying each other in our need for instant gratification. It is considering the long-term consequences of our actions and putting other's needs before our desires. Courage, strength and self discipline are necessary to see the struggle through to a successful conclusion.

In this specific instance, the card shows the BRF (and their long tradition of service to their country) wresting with Harry's unbridled egomania. Do they include him as part of the family (and the BRF is all about family), or do they cut him off and show quite clearly that however loved as a brother, he is no longer a member of the Royal Family. Will they sucumb to his temper tantrums and unjust accusations, or will they hold firm for the good of "the Firm"? What damage will he do if he is allowed to attend? If they place limits on him, will he follow them (hint: No)? These are the questions the BRF is struggling with at the moment, and while the course of action may seem clear to an outsider, for them it is not yet decided.

*

Significator: The Moon (card 18)

This is where the situation is at this moment in time. 

The card shows the goddess Hecate, associated with the Moon, magic and the underworld. Hecate is an ancient goddess, as the BRF is an old regime. She is shown of the card with a cute-looking (not terrifying) Cerberus, who guards the entry to the Underworld, a domain associated with her and full of mystery, wisdom and hidden riches. To me this signifies that Prince Harry thinks that going back to the BRF (here represented by Hecate and the underworld) will be easy, as there is no monster guarding the way, only a cute dog (who will be expected to roll over and obey his commands). Hecate, shown here as an older woman (and usually shown as a very old woman, like the Queen) is looking to the past, the present and the future all at once, as the BRF must do in making this decision. As an impersonal image of the feminine, one of the rulers of the Underworld, she represents the Queen in her role as the ruler of Great Britian and some countries of the Commonwealth, a figure who cannot be the warm and loving grandmother that we know she is with Harry, but who rather must be the impersonal Ruler who puts the good of her country above all else.

In the bottom right hand corner of the card, supporting Cerberus and Hecate, is a crab. The crab is the sign of Cancer, and Cancer is the sun sign of Prince William. Prince William may very well be acting as the 'right hand man' pf the Queen during this decision making process. The unseen presence of the underworld in the background suggests the hidden presence of Prince Charles, a sun sign Scorpio, as Scorpio is the sign that rules the Underworld. Prince Charles may be working behind the scenes in this decision, absent in flesh but present in spirit. 

The road to Hecate's realm is the 'royal road' of dreams, and Prince Harry may well be hoping to either using his visible status as a royal (supported by an appearance at Remembrance Day) to fulfil his non-royal dreams, or to use his appearance at remembrance Day as a road back to his previous status as a taxpayer funded working Royal sometime in the future, or both together.

Hecate was associated with the crossroads, which suggests that this decision is a crossroads for the BRF - they have to choose a path and move forward on it, removing all other options. Hecate also had the power (according the to tarot book) of bestowing or withholding from a mortal any desired gift, and that is exactly the position that the BRF are in - do they bestow the desired gift of attendance upon Harry (and his wife), or do they withhold it?

So the BRF is facing a choice, a crossroads. There is confusion (heart versus head) and anxiety over this choice, and it has not yet been made. The Major Arcana card says that this is a major decision and one that will have a lasting impact on all involved.

* Crossing Card : Queen of Cups

This is the main obstacle in making the decision.

The card represents Helen, the woman who was married to one man (the King of Sparta), fell in love and ran away with another (the Prince of Troy), and thus instigated the Trojan Wars (during the course of which she took three more lovers). As a woman who created a crisis in the ruling family of her country by following her own selfish desires, the parallel to Meghan Markle is obvious. If you look at the woman on the card, she resembles Meghan Markle as she is today with her long black extensions. As well as creating trouble wherever she goes (as Helen of Troy did), Meghan Markle has also run away with a prince of the BRF (a neat inversion of Prince Paris running away with Helen). My feeling is that the obstacle is not so much Meghan Markle herself, but rather her effect on Prince Harry, the loved grandson of the Queen and prince of the BRF.

The Queen of Cups can be seen as a woman who is a catalyst for the emergence of deep feelings and fantasies that have previously been hidden from awareness, and there is no doubt that in his association with Meghan Markle, the public have become aware of Prince Harry's rage and contempt for both the BRF and his position within it, something that was previously skillfully hidden by the 'Hero Harry" and "Harry the lad" PR. This emergence in the public eye of the 'real' Prince Harry is also part of the obstacle the BRF faces in making this decision.

Another meaning of the Queen of Cups is a loving and nurturing woman. As such, the card can be taken to represent Princess Diana. From this perspective, the obstacle is not Meghan Markle herself but rather  her unsuccessful attempts to push herself onto the public as Princess Diana 2.0, with her constant cries of "racism" and her accusations of the BRF as "unsupportive", "mean", and "treating her like they did Princess Diana". While easily disproven in themselves, these statements gain traction when they are supported by Prince Harry, either by his actions, his own statements against the BRF, or his silence.

Prince Harry is considered by most to be under the thumb of Meghan Markle. He supports her behaviour in tearing down his family and appears to be transforming into a woke male version of herself. Prince Harry is known to have mental issues, and as the nurturing, caring force represented by the Queen of Cups the BRF may hesitate to do anything that could worsen hos mental state. Unfortunately, this leaves them open to emotional blackmail by Prince Harry (the negative side of the Queen of Cups), as he will not hesitate to use the "Princess Diana Card" and remind everyone of the trauma he suffered as a child to get his own way (the fact that Prince William suffered the same trauma while also a child does not seem to occur to anyone).

The crossing card is a Minor Arcana card, so while the obstacles are being considered carefully by the BRF, they are not a huge problem, as would be the case if a Major Arcana card appeared in this position. The Minor Arcana card shows something that is a nusiance but that also is a problem that is  definitely manageable/surmountable.

* Crowning Card and Base of the Matter Card: Ace of Wands and Six of Swords

This is where I made a mistake in the spread. 

When I drew the cards, I drew the Ace of Wands as the third card and put it in the Crowing Card position, and then I drew the Six of Swords as the fourth card and put it in the Base of the Matter position.  However, before I started this spread, I formed the intention of doing the spread as it appeared in the accompanying book, and that book spread has the third card as the Base of the Matter and the fourth card as the Crowning Card.

I put the cards in the wrong positions. Bollocks.

Rather than choosing between my intention to follow the book spread or my instinct in putting down the cards, I have decided to honour both and read both cards together as both the Crowning Card and the Base of the Matter Card (next time I will double check the spread before I draw the cards).

Card 3: the Ace of Wands 

Due to certain life events, the Ace of Wands is strongly linked in my mind with the male, um, 'manhood', and that phallic imagery immediately suggests that someone here is being "led by their dick", that someone being Prince Harry (apparently Prince Charles referred to it as being 'cunt-struck'). This association is strengthened by the card showing a male wearing a crown and holding the world in one hand while the other holds a thick wand emitting flames (the phallic imagery of the wand is obvious and I won't detail it here). The crown and the world can be taken as showing Harry's previous status as a royal prince, where the world was his oyster (more or less).  

The image on the card is the god Zeus, who is famous (or infamous) for not being able to keep it in his pants, and thus reinforces the "led by his dick" meaning. 

The Ace of Wands as a card symbolises the creative power of the imagination, the impulse that makes us restless and dissatisfied until we formulate and manifest it in the world (successfully or not). It is important to note that here the idea has not been thought through and formulated; it is simply a dissatisfaction, a feeling that things could be different. I believe that it was this feeling of dissatisfaction that led to Prince Harry leaving the BRF. He could have looked for ways to improve his role/position/life within the BRF. Instead he chose to leave when his wife did and, together with her, to pursue another future outside the BRF. 

The Ace of Wands, like all aces, also indicates something new. This indicates that this situation is something new for the BRF - never before has a blood royal left Great Britian to live as a minor celebrity n Hollywood. As with all new situations, they may be uncertain as to what is the best response, especially as we now live in an age of instant social media (and not the previous time of newspaper media, which was slower and could be controlled by the BRF).

Card 4: the Six of Swords 

Here we have Orestes, the doomed hero, travelling to Argos to fulfil his terrible duty to murder his mother. He is travelling through rough water, although calmer weather lies ahead. This figure again has echoes of Prince Harry, whose mother died when he was young, and who has left the country of his birth to travel overseas and make his home in another land. This is the Prince Harry who is no longer a working royal and who has left the BRF for the life of a wanna-be celebrity in Los Angeles. Orestes's future murder of his mother could show Prince Harry's future 'murder' by overexposure of his mother's image via documentary, after dinner speeches, and Netflix musical, as well as his constant use of the "Princess Diana Card". For both Orestes and Prince Harry, this journey appears to be one-way; both have left with no intention of returning to their former place of residence.

Orestes was born in Argos, banished to Phocis, and returned to Argos to avenge his father by murdering his mother. Harry was born in Great Britain, willingly left for a life in Los Angeles (and there are articles saying how unhappy he is there and how he feels in 'exile'), and now  he is trying to return home - to resume his role in the BRF, or like Orestes, to 'murder his mother' by trying to complete the destruction of the public image of the BRF who bore, raised and nurtured him? Both interpretations are possible, and indeed by doing the first the BRF may achieve the second. Popular opinion seems to be that the UK public are very glad to be rid of Prince Harry and his wife, and they do not want them to return - ever. These sentiments and the possibilities of what Prince Harry will do in Los Angeles are things to be considered in making the decision whether to extend him an invitation or not.

The Six of Swords in general shows a time of moving on, a time when clear thoughts, understanding and logic will ease a difficult situation and propel you into smoother waters. Sentiment and emotions (cups) play no part in this process, it is all duty and an acceptance of your obligations. This, then, appears to be the path of the BRF - to decide with the mind and not with the heart.

Together 

As the Crowning Card, these two cards show the situation as it appears to others - Prince Harry being led by his dick to leave the BRF and create a future for himself in another country as a minor celebrity.

As the Base of the Matter, these two cards show other motivations - Prince Harry being prompted to leave by dissatisfaction with his life as well as sexual desire, the idea of having him invited to remembrance Day bringing with it the danger of destroying the reputation of the BRF, the fears of what exactly he will do in Los Angeles if he is - or is not invited, and above all the necessity for clear, logical thought without sentiment to find a path through this situation.

*

Past Influences: Justice (card 8)

This is what has influenced the situation in the past. The situation is moving away from it.

The Justice card shows the goddess Athena, seated on her throne, holding the sword and scales of justice. Athena sprung fully formed from the head of Zeus, so this Justice is impersonal, abstract, a thing of thought and not passions. This is further emphasised by the armour worn by the goddess. Her chest and her back are encased in steel, stiffening her spine and enclosing/locking away her heart, the seat of emotions. It is like the judgement handed down in a court case is supposed to be - the situation is weighed against the law and, if found wanting, a punishment prescribed by the law is delivered. There is no room for the passions or emotions in this sort of justice. Facts are all that matter.

The female goddess Athena represents the Queen, a powerful female who made the decisions in this matter. This impersonal, abstract, emotionless justice is how the Queen has dealt with this situation with Prince Harry in the past (to the best of her ability). She has considered the facts, weighed them in her mind, and delivered a consequence. The goddess is armoured and armed with a spear, and so the Queen has acted not out of personal pain but in defence of her institution (the BRF) and her realm.

As the goddess is sitting down, the consequences were more often passive than active; the result of Prince Harry's repeated actions rather than actions taken to forestall them. Like the scales the goddess holds in her hand, the Queen did her best to deliver consequences that she saw as balanced and fair (no matter how the rest of the world saw them). Athena is the goddess of strategy, and the Queen would have taken the strategic long view when deciding on the consequences for Prince Harry's actions. Justice is the card of Libra, and Libra aims for civilised harmony, so the Queen may have had that as a goal in making her decisions (for example, playing Happy Families and presenting aunited front to the world).

The fact that this is a past influence suggests that things are going to change. A new force will lie behind the actions of the BRF. Prince Harry may not be aware of this change. Justice is said to be blind, and he may go blindly forward, expecting everything to work out the same as it had in the past.

This is a Major Arcana card, so it was very important in the past for the treatment of Prince Harry to be seen as fair and unbiased by emotion. Whether this holds true for the future remains to be seen.

*

Future Influences: Nine of Wands

These are the influences on the situation that are going to appear in the immediate future. The situation is moving towards this.

The Nine of Wands shows the ship Argo just before it passes the final obstacle in its journey home, the Clashing Rocks, and comes into the safe harbour of the city of Argos. The sails of the ship are tattered and torn, for it has been through many difficulties on its voyage, and only one final obstacle remains between it and its goal. That obstacle is the Clashing Rocks, a pair of huge rocks that clashed together whenever a ship sailed between them, crushing the ship between them. The captain of the ship, Jason, acted on the advice from a crew member and released a dove between the rocks to see how fast the crew would have to row to escape them. The dove lost a few tail feathers, and by rowing at a similar speed, as fast as they could, the Argo passed between the rocks, losing only its stern ornament. After this defeat the rocks became motionless, facing each other across the sea.

For this card, the Argo represents both the BRF and Prince Harry. Both have been battered by the events of the past, and both want to come to a calm and stable future. Standing between them and this outcome is the Clashing Rocks, which represent the interests of the BRF on the one side and the desires of Prince Harry and Meghan Markle on the other. A passage between the two needs to be negotiated without destroying either the BRF or Prince Harry. Then the rocks will freeze in place, the calm and stable future will be reached, and both parties will continue to hold the positions that are seen at this event. Otherwise, one or both party will be destroyed between the rocks of their conflicting goals.

Like the dove, both Prince Harry and/or the BRF might have to lose a few tail feathers to achieve this result. The compromises will not be significant in the overall scheme of things - the dove can still fly away and regrow its feathers; similarly both Prince Harry and the BRF will recover from whatever compromises they have to make to achieve this future.

The passage to this future will not be easy. The sea around the rocks is turbulent and the crew of the ship are exhausted. it is the same with the BRF and Prince Harry. They have both been on a long journey, and both are exhausted, and finally the end is in sight. Then one last hurdle appears. The obstacle may have been foreseen, as the crew of the Argo knew of the Clashing Rocks, or it may suddenly arise from the depths and stand before them. They must try again, one last time, to overcome this obstacle and finally reach their goal. 

The Nine of Wands represents one last burst of energy that comes from the willingness to try again, one last time, even though you are exhausted, when a final obstacle arises and stands between you and your goals. That willingness to try will bring forth fresh energy and new ideas. It is this last burst that can carry both Prince Harry and the BRF through the rocks and through any compromises into the safe harbour beyond, their positions set for the future. The alternative is for one or both parties to be destroyed. Blindly rushing ahead, refusing to take the time to observe and plan and take advice, will result in the person being crushed between the rocks and drowning. Only by planning and taking advice, as Jason did when he released the dove and calculated the rowing speed required, will a safe passage be assured. 

The member who advised Jason to release the dove was Phineus, a King rescued from his torments by two of the crew of the Argo during their long journey, and who then joined the crew on their quest. Perhaps someone in a similar position may offer wise advice to the BRF and/or Prince Harry.

Wands can represent PR (creativity, ideas). It is very likely that this final obstacle (future influence) will either be in itself or will come from PR pieces designed to stir up the emotions of the general public (emotions are water and the ship is sailing through a turbulent/stirred up sea). As the PR from the Harkle camp has already shown itself capable of being extremely nasty, I expect either something even nastier from them that completely crosses one or more lines, or for Meghan Markle to turn on Prince Harry and tear him to pieces. The current trend of the Harkle PR can go either way.

*

Where One Finds Oneself: Judgement (card 20)

This is what will happen in the near future. The situation is moving towards this.

Here we see Hermes the Psychopomp, the traveller between two worlds, who brings messages to and from the Underworld, summons the dead to the Underworld, restores the dead to life, and who leads heroes out of the Underworld. 

When we die, it is said that our life passes before our eyes, and in we go the the abode of the dead, where we are judged for our deeds and delivered into peace or torment. This is where Prince Harry will find himself. Gone is the abstract justice of the past, now his actions will be judged with emotion, based on how they affect the BRF, and he will be punished or promoted accordingly.

If we look at the picture, we can see a land of glowing wheat fields at the top of the stairs. To me this is England, the Underworld is the life of exile in Hollywood, and Hermes is the messanger between the worlds, with a message  that has been or will be sent to Prince Harry. How Prince Harry responds will determine whether he is led out of the underworld and back to the wheat fields of England, or whether he is left to languish in the darkness of Hollywood. Hermes as a God often displays deceit and trickery, and here he could also represent not a message, but Prince Harry trying to lie and cheat his way back into his past privleges as a member of the BRF.

Whether or not Prince Harry returns to England, he faces a judgement. Should he be restored to some of his past privleges, should he be seen to be a member of the Windosr family but not the BRF (i.e. present in a minor role), or should he simply be excluded from all public events? This is not the cold, abstract, passive Justice of the past, but a Judgement that is active, as Hermes is upright and moving in this card, and a Judgement that is emotional, full of the hurt and pain that he has caused to others (to his family on a personal level, to the BRF as an institution, and to the British public whose taxes have supported him his entire life). This is a very different sort of "judge and jury" than in the past, and I don't think Prince Harry is aware of the change. He is represented here by the dead people, as he "died" by cutting himself off from the BRF. They are swathed in bandages that block their eyes, ears, and mouth, as Prince Harry is blind, deaf and dumb to the changes that await him in the BRF.

The Judgement card is the card of Pluto, the ruler of Scorpio, and Prince Charles is a sun-sign Scorpio. This suggests that Prince Charles is going to move from a force in the background to a major player, front and centre (as Hermes is in the card) in the decision about whether Prince Harry is invited to Remembrance Day or not, and if so in what capacity. Scorpio is a water sign, and water signs are very emotional, so this judgement of Prince Harry's worth as a member of  the BRF is going to be based on an emotional response to all his past actions, the good and the bad, the ones Prince Harry accepts as his and the ones where he places the blame upon others . The Judgement card is a Major Arcana card, which says that the judgement on his position is a major event and it will be seen on the world stage. 

The Judgement card also shows the personal process in which Prince Harry will find himself in the near future. He will face the consequences of all his actions, both those he admits to and those where he has avoided responsibility. All of those actions will be called to account, not just on a world stage but also on a personal stage, and Prince Harry will be confronted with the realisation of what he has done and how it has created his future (whether he accepts his part in this or chooses to play the eternal victim is another matter entirely). The  Judgement card signifies the end of a chapter in his life. Whether the next part is sweet or bitter, as part of the BRF or alone in Hollywood, will be the result of all his actions, past and present.

*

Views of Others: Two of Cups

This is how friend s and family see the situation.

*

Hopes and Fears: Six of Cups

This is what the people involved hope for and fear from the situation.

*

Final Outcome: Page of Swords

If no energy shifts, this will be the outcome of the situation.

Clarifiers: Queen of Swords, Seven of Pentacles

I pulled two clarifying cards to help me understand the outcome.

Queen of Swords

Seven of Pentacles

*

[scribblestatic]

Katsuki wakes up with a start in the middle of the night, hands burning from overuse, right wrist aching with strain, the smell of scalded paint and cotton strong cloying and blocking his nose, his body shaking with a terrible, cold sweat, and his father’s arms wrapped around him.

“You’re okay, son. You’re okay. Just breathe, Katsuki...breathe.”

He tries to follow his instructions, but it’s a struggle. He has to fight against himself, against his memories, to get his body to stop hyperventilating and suffocating itself. But it’s much easier to do with his dad’s warm body against his, Masaru’s heartbeat and lungs working much less strenuously than his own were.

Slowly, he’s brought down from his nightmare-induced panic attack, and, exhausted, he doesn’t try to wipe away the angry, scared tears in his eyes. Katsuki sags against his dad, not hugging him back, but not protesting the hold either.

They stay like that for a while, Masaru whispering slow, calm words to him like he did when Katsuki used to have really bad tantrums. As he does, red-eyed and exhausted, Katsuki takes stock of his room.

He’s burned up the wall next to his bed pretty badly. His sheets are still smoldering a bit, but the little burn spots aren’t yellow anymore. The lower left edge of the single All Might poster he has up on his wall is unsalvageable. When he strains his eyes to look upwards, he spots a darker, more burned spot on the ceiling right above his bed.

As a child, nightmares used to be accompanied by involuntary quirk usage. He remembered the scratchy, heat-resistant sleep gloves he used to have to wear. Back then, he’d hated them with a vengeance, so he trained himself to work through his nightmares quietly. To take the brunt of his terrors and kick their asses in his dreams rather than in reality. His efforts had paid off then—at eight years old, he was finally allowed to sleep without the gloves.

He doesn’t complain the next morning when his old man silently presents some new sleeping gloves to him.

These aren’t flashy or full of cool designs like his kiddie ones had been, no exploding red and orange on a black background, bombastic enough to hide the buckles that would be strapped around his wrists to keep them on. These are a simple black on the backhand, orange on the front, the buckle plain to see, but not nearly as daunting to look at now as it had been as a kid.

“I’m sorry, Katsuki,” his old man says as he takes the gloves without protest. “I know you hated these as a child, but—”

“I get it,” he replies, stuffing his hands—the left one free, the right wrapped in a fresh ACE bandage—into his pockets as he turns to head back to his burned room. “I get it.”

Before he’s completely out of the living room, he hears the dining room chair slide back.

“Maybe...maybe if you talked to the counselor at school, it would help you work through those nightmares. Or, well, you could tell me.” Katsuki stays staring at the floor, back to his dad. “I won’t be able to fully understand what you’ve been through, but son, you...you have to talk to someone. You need someone to help you.”

Help…

Katsuki clenches his teeth tightly. Not out of anger, but out of the pang of panic that strikes through him at the mere mention of the word.

Help.

He’d cried for help.

Begged for it.

As that sludge clogged his lungs and slowed his heart, he’d pumped as much adrenaline into his body as he could to keep exploding, keep moving, keep trying to force it out, don’t drown, don’t drown, don’t drown—

He’d needed help. He’d looked out into the crowd and begged for it.

And not a single living soul reached to help him.

The crowd had stood stock still, looking around for heroes to come help. Hell, the heroes who were there didn’t...they didn’t even try. They didn’t reach for him, didn’t use what the could to help him. Nothing. They were going to watch him die, they were ready to watch him die, he was dying and they…

But he’d felt it.

A cold, clammy hand forcing his wrist back into the sludge, backwards, straining, before forcing a solid kick against his back. It had shoved his face out of the sludge long enough to breathe, long enough to make a good explosion, long enough that the hand forced backwards let out an explosion big enough to send him flying out like a rocket. He’d had a rough landing, a solid slab of concrete hitting him in the stomach on his way down before he collapsed and began throwing up food and drink and sticky green from the harsh hit.

He barely understood what happened after that. His hearing was already shot from having sludge shoved into him, the fucking monster of a man trying to force himself into his body in the most disgusting, horrendous ways possible. He’d still been throwing up and coughing, trying to crawl desperately away from the sloughing sludge behind him, and still, the heroes weren’t close enough to help. Were refusing to help.

It wasn’t until All Might wrapped an arm around his waist as he threw a punch that changed the weather that he felt even remotely like things would be okay. He hadn’t even realized it was All Might at first, but the body was not cold and wet and curling and forcing itself into his body, so he didn’t struggle against it.

Paramedics quickly took him after, gave him a general check up and quickly diagnosed him with pneumonia, doing their best to tell the media to fuck off as a nurse with a healing quirk—something about toxin expulsion—helped expunge him of the physical residuals from the attack. (Had it not been for her and those nurses, he’d probably have died of bacterial aspiration pneumonia, lactic acidosis, and flat-out blood poisoning. Thank fuck some actually thoughful pricks were around.)

The nurses couldn’t conceal him forever, and after a solid jar-full of extra sludge coming out of his body, another check, and a watchful bill of health with an ACE bandage for his mysteriously sprained right wrist, they were forced to throw him back to the dogs as the media, police, and heroes hounded to hear something from him. But he’d barely said a word. The only thing he’d really managed to say occured when a crowd of heroes tried to congratulate him, cooing over how strong his quirk is, how they’d love to have him as a sidekick. Same shit he’d been hearing all his life.

Only this time, while usually it brought him a sense of pride thinly concealing an overwhelming ball of anxiety, now it just fell flat. Numb. Like something was trying to tickle him but it couldn’t get a response. 

He just stared off to the side, where the nurses were gingerly concealing Deku’s dead body from the rest of the world. A single casualty that none of the heroes surrounding him were paying attention to. No. Only All Might acknowledged him, standing over his long cold body with slightly slumped shoulders, his body also a guard against a bunch of nosy gossip mongers from taking Deku’s slack-faced picture and posting it all over the web.

No...Deku’s face was slack. It was, but not the way the dead tend to look.

He’d seen it as the nurses covered him. Nah, the dumbass seemed like he was just sleeping. Just a little opening of the mouth, the lack of chest movement and the severe impact scar scraped into his chest the only indications he was dead. Yet, his face hadn’t been scrunched in pain. No, he was serene, like he was having a good-damn dream.

He stared as the nurses covered his red shoes, and slapped one of the heroes’ hands off his shoulder as they touched him.

“Keep your paws off me. It’s too fuckin’ late now.”

Apparently his face said something his mouth didn’t, because none of the heroes followed after him as he left.

Katsuki kept it together all the way till he got home, right up until his dad rushed in his room and held him close, thanking every Shinto god he could think of that his son was alive. Then Katsuki pressed his face into his dad’s shoulder and finally shattered to pieces, not caring that the old hag hovered in the doorway, unsure and concerned.

She ended up occupied anyway. Had to console her best friend during the loss of the woman’s only son. But just hearing the call start up opened up another can of beans because he’d seen Deku’s face last. Before the silent, sleeping face, there had been a terrible, teary-eyed, wide-pupiled grin before Deku’s dead maw had opened, peering eyes peeking out from his already cold body, spewing forth death that quickly surrounded Katsuki and tried to invade his body and take him with it.

But even that isn’t what haunts him most. Haunts him so much that he can’t yet bear to talk about it, because he’s sure if he tries, he’ll be admitted to the nearest psych ward and he’s not sure he could take that.

So instead of answering his dad back, he just keeps walking forward. Keeps heading to the stairs and shuffling to his room. Silently closes the door and stares at his charred wall and the new bed sheets that have replaced the newly burnt ones. Stares at the crispy All Might poster that he’s still going to leave up on his wall.

Then, once he’s sure he’ll be left alone, his gaze shoots to his closet.

See, in his time off school, he’s had time to think. Time to process some shit and really get his head into gear. Actually use his brain after it had been so rudely thrust out of its usual orbit. And he’s still not quite back, but he’s aware enough. Thoughtful enough. Observant enough.

And he’d observed something he’d thought he’d imagined, but still has proof of, and has vigilantly kept it hidden in the ice box in his closet.

He shoves his hanging clothes aside to reveal the ice chest and pulls it out, a strange mixture of sewage and car air fresheners seeping just the tiniest bit out of the corners of the top. He shoves the top off and pulls out its contents, ignoring the rush of smells with only the scrunch of his nose.

He stares.

It’s still there.

On the back of his gakuran is a single dirt stain. The thing stinks like sewer sludge, but he just contains it by wrapping the jacket in plastic and spraying Febreeze on it until he can’t smell anything but Bamboo Essence. Cloying and flowery, but better than sludge. But see, he has to save it. Has to save his gakuran as his proof. 

Because the single dirt stain is of a shoe print. And that is enough to convince him that he’s not crazy.

He can still see the stain where an already dead Deku had kicked him in the back to save him.

[some-cookie-crumbz]

Thoughtful Impracticality

Title: Thoughtful Impracticality - Kidge Week Day 7 Prompt Fill Fandom: Voltron: Legendary Defender Pairing: Keidge Summary: They say the best gifts come from the heart, right? Standard Disclaimer: If you read and enjoy this, please give it a like/ reblog so I know if I should write more. AN: Just call me Chester, because I’m a filthy cheetah. Anyway, same forewarning for the other two fics; read through once for problems so be aware.

She wasn’t really expecting to be so completely blindsided by him.

She knew that Keith was smarter than some people they knew – Lance – gave him credit for. She’d spent enough late nights talking with him and too many hours bonding through training exercises for the improvement of their teamwork to not know a great many things about him; all these facts ranging from being trivial to important. The two most important – in her expert opinion – were that he was a sentimental soul who actually called his Lion partner Rose in secret because it made her feel special, and that he could be quite clever with his tactics when devising an attack plan. He was pretty good at stealth, sneak attacks, and was extremely observant, so his being a great strategist wasn’t too terribly surprising. The only person more observant than him on the team would be Pidge herself, or maybe Shiro.

Keith had a bad tendency at being impulse and stubborn, though. He’d charge in like a starved wolf without thinking over current risk factors or later consequences, focused only on taking down his opponent and the victory closest at hand. She didn’t have too much room to talk, seeing as she herself could be just as impulsive and brazen as him, but she still found herself floored by his thorough planning and ability to lead when he actually took the extra time for strategy.

Perhaps that was why she fell for him as hard as she did.

They’d been on Team Voltron for three years and had been dating for nearly one year. They hadn’t told the rest of the team about their relationship, though, due to fear of the reactions they’d receive. They knew they really shouldn’t be keeping secrets and that, when the mechanical cat was inevitably let out of the castle-sized bag, there could be terrible repercussions for their deceit. They felt awful about it and were dreading the day, but they also knew that they were professionals at this point and didn’t want to get lectured about fraternizing being a risk to themselves and their teammates. They’d proven time and again over this last year that their personal feelings for one another could be placed to the side when it was necessary for the safety of the team. Pidge feared the others not seeing it that way, and Keith knew that Shiro would have quite a few examples on hand of how it could all go down the drain.

They had docked on their most recent exploration planet only a few hours ago, with the planet’s night cycle on the horizon. Allura and Shiro agreed that exploring would be something best done in the daylight and suggested the others spend the time getting some well-deserved rest. Pidge, thinking the idea of sleep actually sounded pretty good for once, had headed off to her own quarters and dozed off near immediately after swapping into an oversized green tunic that functioned more as a nightgown for her. After only a few hours of slumber, she’d been poked in the nose, causing her to scrunch it up and groan loudly.

Her response was an all too familiar voice, cooing teasingly, “Aw, poor sleepy bird.”

“Go. Away. Sleeping,” She grumbled, turning so her back was facing him and nuzzling deeper into her covers. She let out a contented sigh as well, hoping that it would be enough to coax him into leaving.

She had forgotten who she was dealing with, apparently.

Keith felt a grin turn up on his lips, seeing the challenge and feeling pride that he knew how to approach it. Whether by design, a sense of necessity, or simply her own preference, Pidge spent most of the time she had to herself working on decoding this or programming that or preparing this upgrade for that lion and so on. It made certain tasks easier – such as rounding her up for training – but on the flip side, she was an absolute workaholic whom would occasionally skips meals from being so focused on her work. On days where she was so engrossed in her work that meals and hygiene fell to the wayside, Shiro would be sent in to peacefully extract her. But on days where Shiro was preoccupied helping Coran and Allura with battle plans or navigations or something of that ilk, the other three paladins would typically draw straws to see who would have to find a way to coax the aggressive pigeon from her perch.

Years of being selected as the unenthused bird keeper most often had prepared Keith Kogane for this moment.

Their being in a relationship didn’t necessarily mean he would be spared from taking pointed elbows and surprisingly forceful kicks to the shin; Pidge Gunderson showed no mercy when it came to getting her way. Her fortitude and refusal to give up were admirable qualities but when those same qualities were applied to her temper tantrums, it was far from charming. He tended to be the best at coercing her to deviate from her own plans – second only to Shiro, but he understood why and took no offense to that fact – because he could be just as bombastic and stubborn and just plain mean as she would be.

Her attempts to shove him out of the hanger would typically end with him throwing her over his shoulder like a sack of potatoes. He would retaliate to the jabs and blows she’d dish out in her indignation at being carried with small pinches to the backs of her knees and rounding a corner quick enough to clip her foot or shoulder. And, the cherry on top, was that Pidge herself had taught him how to hack into the controls on the bedroom doors once when they were pulling a prank on Lance. He very rarely ever made use of the skill, but it had occasionally come in handy during spats or disagreements between them.

Keith leaned over and pinched at her side gently, knowing all too well how ticklish she was there. She yelped and shot upright, shifting to try and dig an elbow into his side. He anticipated that move, however, and side-stepped smoothly. She tumbled over the side of her bed and hit the ground, her equilibrium still drastically skewed from her being half-awake, becoming a mess of flailing limbs and tangled covers. She scrambled to sit upright, the blankets pooling around her, and blew a few strands of hair out of her face. “What do you want, Keith?” She growled through clenched teeth.

He squatted down so they were eye level - Pidge noting that he had changed into his Paladin armor - and flashed a huge, proud grin. She’d seen this grin on his face before; he usually sports it right before flipping his opponent flat on their back during combat training. The expression caught her interest, cooling some of her fury with a balm of curiosity. “Get geared up, grab your bayard, and meet me in the hanger. I’ve got a little surprise for you,” He said.

She hummed quietly in thought before getting up. “Alright, alright. But if this isn’t worth it, I’m volunteering you to help Lance practice new pick-up lines,” She warned, scooping up her covers and tossing them into a heap on the bed.

He rolled his eyes and headed to the door. “Whatever you say, Katie,” He hummed before disappearing out the door.

She waited until she could hear his footsteps echoing down the hallway before putting herself back together. She contemplated going back to bed out of spite but she knew that he would just come and wake her up again; or, even worse, he’d find some other thing to do for vengeance. On top of that, the use of her actual name had her especially curious.

It was only in their most quiet and intimate moments that he ever called her Katie. Only Shiro and Keith were aware that Pidge wasn’t her actual name – more because neither Hunk nor Lance had seemed particularly interested in that information – and while she’d gotten somewhat used to hearing Shiro call her as such, whenever Keith called her, it still left her heart skipping beats. She changed into her armor as she was told, grabbed her bayard and a hair tie, and headed out.

She walked into the hanger to find him leaning against one of Red’s paws and checking a stop watch, the hanger doors already open for take-off.

“Okay, what is this oh-so-phenomenal surprise you felt the need to wake me up over?” She asked while setting her helmet down on her make-shift desk at her work station. She then started to comb her fingers through her hair to tie it back. Since revealing herself to her team, she’d decided to grow her hair out again, having honestly missed having long hair to play with.

Keith made a small noise in the back of his throat as he approached her, swiping the hair tie from her grasp and taking over working on her hair. “Why didn’t you tie this back before you even got here?” He asked.

In all honestly, she’d done it because the feel of his fingers combing through her hair and gently working the tresses into quick buns or French braids was relaxing for her; however, she wasn’t going to tell him the whole truth. “Because it’s more fun to make you do it for me. A small price you have to pay for waking my happy ass up. Now answer my question, you dodgy jerk,” She hummed back.

He smirked a bit as he finished up the quick bun for her, flicking the little knot of hair lightly. “First, get in Green. Then follow me, and I’ll show you,” He said before retreating to climb into Red’s cockpit.

She scowled and made her way to Green, tugging on her helmet. “That boy may as well be a damn ballerina with all those fancy moves,” She grumbled bitterly. She could feel Green’s amusement as she headed in to Green’s cockpit as well. She flopped down in her seat and reached for the controls. “Did Red give you any hint as to what exactly he’s got up his sleeve?” She asked as she watched the other metal feline shift and walk toward the exit

Green laughed lightly. “Sorry, little one, but I’ve been sworn to secrecy. Lion’s honor,”

“Well aren’t you just helpful today?” She sighed before Green lurched forward, following their comrades out.

Once they were a good distance from the castle ship, they went by the mechanical beasts’ paws instead of relying on their flying capabilities, much to her surprise. But then again, that was probably part of his plan too; the planet was certainly a gorgeous one. Red and Keith led them through rolling hills of what she assumed was pastel orange grass, halting at pools of some kind of liquid – or so she hoped, given past experiences they’d had over the years – gleaming a deep, rich purple hue with glittering silver and gold stones of some sort at the bottom. Keith hadn’t said anything over the communicator to her – only pausing at certain points to wait for her to catch up and gawk a little – before he and Red would charge ahead again.

She was left in their dust and in awe at one trail they cut past in specific.

The trees on the planet reminded her of an odd hybrid between birch and weeping willows; pale, alabaster trunks that stretched out high and wide, but their leaves dangled far off the branches like wisps of unruly hair. The leaves were the real game changers, though; they were translucent and came in various shades of yellow, orange and red, catching in the light like stained glass and casting colorful shadows along the ground in the rising light. She felt her breath catch as she looked around, wondering how long Keith had been milling around exploring earlier, before she pulled him up on the communicator. “Keith, this is amazing!” She said excitedly as he appeared on the small holographic monitor.

He flashed a small smile. “I’m glad you’re enjoying, but this isn’t the surprise,”

She quirked an eyebrow. “Wait, what?”

“I mean, I’m glad you’re enjoying the sights, but I had no idea it looked like this. It was really nice at night, though, so I should have figured it would be pretty during the day too. Consider this a happy accident, I suppose,” He explained with a small shrug, guiding Red further into the thicket of trees to settle underneath one. She had noticed he was starting to pick up her habit of occasionally rambling when answering question, though he didn’t do it for nearly as long and he typically stayed relatively on topic. “No, what I wanted to show you is just up ahead, in a ravine, but we need to leave the Lions here to make sure we aren’t detected.”

She wanted to ask why they didn’t just come in one Lion if he was concerned about being spotted – especially since Green could cloak for short bursts of time – but decided not to argue. She supposed he was thinking it’d be better to have two Lions if they did end up in a fire fight with any unfriendly faces. Green sidled up beside Red and settled comfortably for Pidge to disembark. Keith was waiting a few paces ahead for her, smile still in place and his bayard already pulled out.

She slipped her own bayard into her grip as she fell in step with him, matching her footfalls to his. He had helped teach her how to walk more quietly, move more carefully, shift her weight to make her movements a bit more graceful; a skill that was useful for missions and sneaking back and forth from his room when her nightmares made sleep near impossible. “So, were you just out exploring instead of sleeping, then?” She asked.

He hummed lightly. “When we landing I thought I saw something. Allura said to leave it be for now, since it seemed to be a ways off and hadn’t noticed us yet, but it was bothering me. I figured it’d be a good idea to get some intel on whatever it was,” He said calmly, shifting a bit closer to her as the mouth of the ravine came into view. When they walked, his hand occasionally bumped against hers, the soft clack of their armor creating a surprisingly comforting background noise.

As they peered over into the large, deep ravine below, she was stunned.

It was a Galra camp of some sort, but she wasn’t entirely sure at first. There was a huge hole carved into the side of the gorge – or, she reasoned, perhaps it was the mouth of some sort of cave – and that seemed to be where all the action was taking place. There were sentries posted here and there but there were two actual Galra guards standing watch by the entrance. There were two large buildings – windowless, dilapidated husks more than buildings, really – and two small shacks positioned in between the two buildings. Both buildings were in just as sad a state of repair but one of them had a hanging sign above the door; a wooden sign, hanging loosely from chains, with a red cross painted on it. A sick bay of sorts, she assumed. There was a Galra ship settled to the far left of the ravine and a few more guards and sentries were exiting the ship.

As one of the Galra headed toward one of the larger buildings, a blaster and megaphone clutched tightly in his hands, it dawned on her what they were staring at.

“I’ve been observing this place ever since I found it,” Keith supplied, taking her slack-jawed expression for the epiphany that it was. She flinched at the sound of his voice then turned her head to look at him with wide eyes. “I caught them toward the end of the day before, so I didn’t get a good look at the workers, but one of the few I saw looked a lot like you. Did… Did your brother walk with a limp?”

Your father was sent away to a work camp.

Matt and I were sent to the arena.

Matt was scared.

Grabbed a guard’s weapon and struck Matt.

Take care of your father.

Despite how long ago the conversation had been had, she could still remember it clear as day. Shiro had saved her brother Matt from dying in the arena by injuring him. Shiro assumed that the Galra would heal Matt’s leg – they had the technology to do that much, he was sure of it – but assuming that they opted not to, it could make sense. Shiro admitted that it had been a deep cut he had inflicted. If the Galra had only given him basic treatment to get him work-ready then he could have suffered after effects. “You found him,” She finally wheezed out, her breathing starting to pick up and her eyes watering.

He settled one hand on top of hers and squeezed gently. “Happy anniversary, Katie,” He said simply.

She broke down, letting out embarrassing little sob-giggle hybrids as tears started to fall. “You… You found my brother as an anniversary gift?” She blubbered, squeezing his hand back as tightly as she could, but she was smiling.

“Well, I found this place while I was just trying to find a nice spot for, like, a picnic or something. I mean, Lance has raved about how that’s a great way to woo a girl,” He said with a small laugh. He held up his free hand and held out his thumb and index fingers as he ticked off two points. “But then I realized that we don’t exactly have a lot of options for picnic-y foods – because I still barely understand how to cook half the stuff Hunk has found that’s edible – and also that I doubt we could bluff our ways out of it if we got caught on the picnic. So I thought that, as far as woo-worthy gestures go, helping you spring your brother from an intergalactic concentration camp might be a nice alternative.”

She stared at him before she squeezed her eyes shut and swallowed hard to fight back more hiccups and laughs and tears. Of course Keith would be the one to find something like this and put the knowledge to an oddly impractical use. “I feel like such a smuck now! I was just going to upgrade your bayard so that you could alter the length and curve of your blade however you wanted!” She choked out lightly.

He laughed, clinking their helmeted heads together lightly. “Are you kidding me? That sounds like a kickass anniversary gift! Lance will never win another sparing match again,” He beamed, eyes shining in enthusiasm and delight. He gave her hand one more squeeze before looking back down at the ravine. “So, from what I’ve seen, we have about ten minutes before they’ll start sending the workers into the camp. You should get Green and go into cloak mode; you could plug up the cave hole and deal some damage to the ship to prevent an escape. I’ll jump down and keep them from getting back to the ship until you can take it out.”

“They have a decent amount of troops, though; should we call for some reinforcements?” She asked while taking a shuddering breath to collect herself.

“I already got that covered; once you get in Green, Red’s gonna send a distress signal to Black, Blue and Yellow. If my timing is right, then they should show up in time to help finishing taking out the Galra and start the job of taking care of the workers,”

“Shiro’s gonna be so pissed at us,” She said, shifting to slide farther back down toward the Lions.

Keith flashed her a smirk. “He’ll get over it once he sees it’s for a worthy cause,”

She felt her heart beat pick up and she nodded, blinking back a fresh wave of tears. “God, I love you so much,” She whispered breathlessly before darting back to Green.

[idornasequel]

Chapter Thirty: The Unlikely Company

Beatrice inhaled sharply as she, Akari, and the rest of the Unlikely Company stepped into the hottest club in Miami, the tile floor pulsing with the beat thrumming through the hot, sweaty crowd that pressed in against them from all sides. Her hair felt heavy, weighing her head down in the oppressively busy room, her ears ringing from all the noise. Overhead a well-choreographed ballet of flashing lights danced around the room, an array of colors bouncing off the mirrors hanging from the walls and the jewel-bedecked partygoers moving in time with the obnoxiously loud music.

Swallowing her basic instinct to run back outside where, even though it was as humid as a sauna, it was undoubtedly cooler than the swarm surrounding the Samoan. Beatrice turned around and looked at the group, forcing a nervous smile. “I’m gonna go scope out the bar. How about we meet up in an hour to try getting into the VIP area up on the third floor?” she shouted over the bass drop, feeling her tulle skirt already start to cling to her freshly shaved legs.

Enzo nodded, having to take a few moments to fully process what she said over the pounding beat. He didn’t remember much from the club in the Oasis, but it was child’s play compared to this. He didn’t even know if he could see the other end of the dancefloor through the flood of bodies.

That is when his eyes went upwards, spotting the two upper floors where it looked much calmer. “I’ll be up there,” he said, pointing to the second floor before he took off towards the staircase, feeling as if he may pass out from all of the moving bodies surrounding him.  

“I’ll check around down here,” Calix shouted, sweeping his hands in a wide arch and trying to avoid the crowds of people dancing much too close for comfort.

Splitting up seemed like a good idea, but it wasn’t long before Calix realized how quickly they could lose each other.

The Veil was the busiest and most obnoxious club Calix had ever seen. There were bodies everywhere. Nowhere was spacious. Everywhere he stepped, he collided with someone.

He made his way briskly to the edge of the dance floor, where the mindless throngs were thinner and meandered cautiously among the frolicks.

Natasha scanned the crowd as the two boys quickly disappeared, knowing it was best to split up. “I’ll talk to a few people, see what I can find out about the Karras twins and the club,” she said, slipping away from the group and into the large crowds. She didn’t like being around this many people, but in a crowd like this, at least she felt anonymous.

Akari stretched her arms over her head, exhaling as the others left she and the other girl alone near the entrance. What the hell is her name again?

“I might recognize an Auror or two,” she said to the blonde. “Do try and enjoy yourself while you hunt.” And with a playful wink, she took off into the crowd.

Mel watched her go, unsure of whether she felt annoyed or thankful to have someone with a similar attitude around. She decided on the latter as she scanned the crowd, looking for a target.

Guess I’ll chat up some waiters.

Mel headed across the crowd, her first mission finding something to drink, with hopefully some information on the side.

Beatrice stood at the bar, scanning the crowd while she patiently waited for the bartender to bring her a scotch on the rocks. She shifted from foot to foot, casually swaying along with the Spanish influenced music flowing through the atmosphere, when she heard a cough come from behind her. Throwing on a dazzling smile, she twirled and came face to face with the server, handing her a glass filled with amber liquid, quickly handing him a ten dollar bill to cover her tab.

Leaning against the stainless steel countertop, the cool metal leeching the heat from her glistening tan skin, Beatrice sipped lightly on her drink and turned around to continue searching the crowd for the twins. The lights twinkling overhead started to bleed into one another, the absurdly loud music softening to a mellower tempo, making the room feel a lot quieter. Blinking rapidly, she wondered if she had something in her eye, though a giddy gleeful feeling bubbling up in the back of her mind convinced her otherwise. Akari can handle this. You deserve to party.

A sigh spilled from her lips, her dark brown eyes settling on Calix dancing on the fringe of the crowd not too far away, her heart skipping a beat at the sight of the uncomfortable Irishman.

You should go cheer him up. Beatrice quickly downed the rest of her drink and haphazardly set the glass down on the counter, her hips swinging dramatically from side to side as she made her way over to her man, bottom lip pushed out in a sensual pout.

The crowd waxed and waned near the edges, people tripping over each other as they danced chaotically to the thunderous sound of the music. It was a mess, nothing more than a melting pot of drunken wizards, witches, and muggles.  

Calix felt tremendously awkward, even at the periphery of the club. He smiled and nodded at some girls as they passed by, followed by two lustful brutes. The girls stretched their hands out and pulled at the tails of his shirt, making low noises that Calix could barely hear before the two ‘gorillas’ hauled them off.

He softly stepped away, quickly uttering a few charms under his breath. Red mist, hidden beneath his clothing, swarmed around his skin, and Calix began to relax somewhat as his protective spells took hold.

He didn’t like the Veil - he didn’t like it at all. The nightclub was a nightmare come to life, a hellscape where the Karras twins - and their mysterious doings, whatever they were up to - were hidden in plain sight.

Glancing into the center of the dance floor, Calix spotted a familiar face moving towards him. He stepped a little closer to the crowds and waited for Beatrice to join him, happy of her company.

“Hey, baby!” she shouted over the music, her wide smile almost stretching from ear to ear, her pupils the size of saucers in the darkness. Beatrice eagerly grabbed his hands and put them around her waist. “You’ve gotta try the drinks here. They’re so good, Cal!”

Beatrice’s grip took Calix by surprise, but he slipped his hands around her slim waist and held her close to his chest. Her eyes looked huge in the dim light, her chocolate-colored irises gazing up at him. Calix put it down to the alcohol.

“Maybe later, love,” he whispered in her ear, swaying from side to side.

She frowned, stamping her foot on the ground like an insolent child. “Don’t be a party pooper. C’mon! Just one drink, please?” she asked, batting her thick eyelashes at him, pressing her chest flush against his. “For me?”

Calix held Beatrice tight in his arms, wondering how much drink she had taken. They were barely in the door and she was already throwing a mild tantrum on the dance floor, stomping her feet on the tiles.

“I might have one, but I’m really okay for now,” he said, looking around him. “Did you see either of Karras twins?”

Staring up at the ceiling high above their heads she giggled and shook her head, her frizzy curls floating in the sweat filled air, feeling like she was flying away too. “I think...ummm…” she paused and stood up on her tiptoes, pressing her plump lips against his clammy earlobe. “Why don’t you come help me look? It’s kinda dark over by the bar and I could be mistaken, but I’m pretty sure I saw Evan-whatever over there,” she said, leading him back towards the far wall of the club where drinks were being served. “And like Kari said, she can handle this. So let’s just have a good time, okay baby?”

Calix eyed Beatrice with suspicion. Something was amiss, but he nevertheless took the smallest glass he could find. He would take a sip to placate Beatrice, although he really didn’t want to get drunk - not when so much was on the line.

Enzo walked around the second floor, glad that the action was a little more contained up higher; however, not by much. He still had to move around bodies and stop in his tracks when a few drunk partiers paraded in front of him.

He pressed his hands against the railing, looking down to the dancefloor. He squinted his eyes, looking for any sign of his friends or the twins, but there were too many bodies, too many lights, and the bombastic music was clouding his focus.

He was just about to turn back around and keep searching when he felt a pair of hands slip around his waist from behind, resting on his abdomen, and next to his right ear, he could hear a male voice:

“Well, well, well, what’s a pretty boy like you doing all alone in here?”

Enzo spun on his heels, using his hands to pry the foreign ones away from his abdomen. When he looked to where the voice sounded from, he saw a man standing less than a foot from him, looking rather pleased with himself. His dark hair was quiffed, and his open-buttoned shirt spelled ‘cocky’.

His fists clenched at his sides and he set his jaw. “Waiting for my girlfriend, thank you,” he said, the hint of a threat lacing his words.

“Oh, now, there’s no reason for you to lie to me. We’re all friends here, and I’m sure your girlfriend wouldn’t mind me keeping your company for a little while,” he said with a suggestive wink.

“I think she would mind,” Enzo replied, his teeth grinding against each other. “And so do I. So, please, go away.”

The man rolled his eyes dramatically and shook his head, backing away from his prey with a flirtatious swagger in his step. “When you’re ready to come out of that closet you’re trapped in, give me a call,” he said, his gaze lingering at Enzo’s palm where his phone number magically appeared, as the wizard escaped without another word.

The room had melted into a sea of colour, and Mel couldn’t be happier.

Whatever mission that had been screwed securely into her brain had been knocked loose and instead she was dancing, spinning around in a circle and twirling arms with some faceless girl in a red dress.

Her mind suddenly flitted to Enzo, and the only memory that clearly pierced through her haze was that he had ventured upstairs. She left her dance partner and climbed the stairs, where she found Enzo leaning against the railing and surveying the crowd. A giddy smile breaking across her face, she sauntered over to him and pressed her lips to his cheek.

“Hey baby,” she purred.

Enzo perked his eyebrows up in surprise as he felt Melanie’s warm lips against the scruff of his cheek. He turned, giving her a smile as the memory of the strange man washed away, and kissed her lips, tasting something strange against them.

“Been drinking?” he asked, mock-judgment lacing his tone.

She gave him a lazy smile, mischief glinting in her eyes. “Who, me?”

He couldn’t help but chuckle lightly, shaking his head and he grabbed her by the waist. They had only been in the club for approximately twenty-or-so minutes. Melanie had a high alcohol tolerance; this was unlike her.

He looked into her eyes, trying to conjure a more serious tone now. “Are you alright? You know we’re here for a reason.”  

She rolled her eyes, sliding her arms around his waist. “I’m fine, babe. I only had one drink! I’m keeping an eye out.”

Her fingers danced across the small of his back. Even as she tried to assure him he was fine, her words trailed into a mumble as her gaze caught this lips in fierce concentration.

He pressed his tongue into his cheek, nodding. He knew that she didn’t want to chase down what could possibly be a dangerous foe. She had her danger back at Idorna.

“I’m sorry,” he said, exhaling loudly, his chest deflating from where the pent-up oxygen was being held. “Just a… strange night.”

She cocked her head to the side, brushing her lips against his. “Hm? How so? Do you need me to take your mind off it?”

“Do I look like I’m g-” He cut himself off, shaking his head. Of course, I don’t. Stupid. He knocked the thought loose, looking back into her eyes. “Nevermind. I think I’d like a bit of whatever you’re having.”

She grinned then, grabbing his hand to lead him down the stairs and back into the chaos.

Akari walked through the dancefloor, nodding her head along to the beat, briefly taking a look at both Calix and Beatrice who were deep in some sort of conversation before her eyes landed on a head of blonde curls. She grinned, walking up behind the woman before placing her finger on her bare shoulder-blades that moved to the rhythm.

“You have the right to remain silent,” she purred, leaning in so her lips nearly touched her neck.

The woman laughed, turning around to showcase those sharp, green eyes of hers. “Of course she’s here. Why wouldn’t she be?”

Akari giggled, wrapping her arms around Amanda. It had been months since they had seen each other. Amanda was stationed in Alabama, but she often frequented missions in Miami. When Akari was stationed here almost a year ago for a few weeks, Amanda was her partner.

Amongst other things.

“How have you been?” Akari asked, placing her hands around Amanda’s neck as they moved their bodies to the rhythm.

Amanda shrugged. “Ain’t complainin’,” she said, her accent strong. “You?”

A chuckle escaped Akari. “Babysitting five kids.”

“For the Congress? What, trainees?”

Akari tilted her head back and forth, looking over her shoulder to where Beatrice and Calix were… But they were gone. Hopefully to dig up more information.

“Something like that,” Akari replied, looking back to the other Auror. “Hey, so, the Karras twins. You ever see -”

But there was a spike in the beat, the music pounding louder and louder as roars of excitement sounded from the crowd.

“Come again?!” Amanda hollered, laughing.

“The Karras twins!” Akari hollered. “Ever see them around here?”

“Once or twice,” Amanda replied when the music dialed down a notch or two. “But I’ve never really talked to ‘em.”

“Mhmm,” Akari hummed.

“Crazy, though, eh?” Amanda continued. “I mean, I know - or rather knew - Evangelos. I worked with the man for a time.”

“Oh?”

“Yeah. Real nice ‘fella… Weird that he quit for… all’a this.” She motioned around her. “I mean, good on ‘em, but I just never pegged him for a clubber. At least the drinks are cheap.”

“Hmm,” Akari mumbled, absorbing the little information given to her.  “Well, listen. I gotta get back.”

“To the kids?” Amanda asked with a wink. “To the kids,” Akari replied.

She tilted her head up, pressing a gentle kiss against the other woman’s cheek. Even in heels, she was shorter than most. She turned after giving Amanda a wave and headed towards the bar, curious about those cheap drinks.

Natasha worked her way easily through the crowd, all moving to the pounding music. It was difficult to see clearly, as the lights were almost as erratic as the music, but her eyes eventually landed on a man dancing with a few friends; he was only an inch or two taller than her with sandy brown hair and based on his gleeful expression, and the mostly-empty drink in his hand, he was in the perfect zone between buzzed and drunk.

Without hesitation, Natasha strode over, taking the glass from his hand before he could take another drink. He looked at her in surprise, but before he could speak, she’d set the glass aside and dragged him away from his friends to dance with her. She guided his hands to her hips, then wrapped her own around his neck, holding him close as their bodies moved together.

“Uh, do I know you?” the man asked, although he didn’t seem to be complaining much as he danced against her.

Natasha laughed softly, the action forced, although anyone who heard it wouldn’t be able to tell. “No, but I’d like to get to know you,” she purred, having to lean in close to his ear to be heard over the music.

A grin lit up his face, clearly thinking he knew what she was insinuating. “I’m Blake,” he said, pulling her hips a little closer to him.

“Natasha,” she responded, letting her eyes drag down his body. “Have you been here before? To this club?”

Blake nodded. “Yeah, my friends and I come here almost every weekend.”

“Yeah? It’s my first time,” she said, smiling brightly in his direction and trying not to think about how obnoxious the expression was.

“It’s a great place,” Blake told her, hands starting to drift a little on her body. “Cheap drinks, good music.”

Natasha hummed a little in response, bottom lip caught between her teeth as she pretended to be distracted by his body for a moment. “What about the owners?” she asked, finally meeting Blake’s gaze again. “Do you know anything about them?” He was clearly intoxicated, and a Muggle. She didn’t feel the need to be subtle.

“Uh...I think it’s Emilio and Juno...something,” he said, laughing softly. “I don’t know. They’re foreign. Anyway, they’ll come out sometimes and do stuff, but no one sees them a lot. I think they spend a lot of time in the VIP section upstairs.” He pulled Natasha close, hands now more on her ass than on her back. “They aren’t important, though. I’d much rather talk about you and I.”

Natasha returned his smirk, fingers threading through his hair. “I’ll tell you what,” she murmured, her dark eyes looking into his blue ones. “Give me five minutes to go find my friend and tell her I’m leaving, and then I’ll meet you outside and we can go find somewhere a little more...private.”

Blake’s expression lit up, and he nodded eagerly. Natasha smiled at him, leaning in and pressing a soft, chaste kiss on his lips before breaking away from his grasp, walking away to seem as though she was looking for a friend. She made a face of disgust as soon as her back was to him, straightening her top as she made her way through the crowd. She had no intention of meeting him, instead of looking for either Akari, another member of her unlikely company, or someone else to try to get information from, as Blake was not very helpful.

Natasha sat on a couch on the second floor now, appreciating the calmer atmosphere to the mob of a dance floor down below. For the time being, she was by herself, just observing things, particularly the people going to and from the third floor. There didn’t seem to be anything about them that particularly stood out, but it was still early in the evening.

She had yet to see Akari or any of her friends since they all split up. She wondered how many of them had actually managed to stay away from alcohol since arriving; she’d been tempted to drink, but kept reminding herself that she had to stay focused and that staying sober was a lot more important now than it was at the Oasis.

“Hey, you,” Akari said once she noticed the dark-haired girl. She sat down beside her, her eyes glossing over as she took in her sharp features. “What’s your name again?”

Natasha looked up when she heard a familiar voice, her eyes landing on Akari.

Of course.

“Natasha,” she informed the other woman, making no effort to look welcoming. “Any luck so far?”

Akari leaned her head against the back of the couch, smiling towards Natasha. She sighed, batting her eyelashes a few times. “Lots.”

“Really?” Natasha asked, not bothering to cover her surprise. “What have you managed to find out?”

Akari swished the full drink in her hand, the ice clattering against the glass as she did so. “That these bad boys are only five bucks.”

Natasha nearly groaned, realizing just how intoxicated Akari must be. It didn’t take all that long, but it was about what she was expecting.

“Great,” she muttered, looking at the other woman. “How much have you had to drink?”

Laughing, Akari shrugged. “Dunno. They’re sooo good, though, Nat.” She held it out to her. “Try some. Fruity and, like… sour, kinda.”

“No, thank you,” Natasha said shortly, pushing the glass away. “Some of us want to be able to focus on the reason we came here.”

“Evangelos is most likely in the VIP area with his sister,” Akari said, brushing off anything Natasha said.

The older girl, moved closer to Natasha so that their arms were almost brushing against each other. Akari hadn’t taken much notice before, but Natasha had a strange charm about her… Whatever it was, it was compelling her to share her drink.

“If we want to get in with them,” Akari said, scooting closer now so that their skin touched, “we have to be having fun.”  

Even if she was wrong about everything else, Natasha realized that Akari was right about that last part. They weren’t getting into any VIP sections by sitting and waiting. Plus, she would much rather just shut Akari up by taking a few sips of the drink than continuing to sit here and argue with her.

“Okay, fine,” she said, reaching over and taking the glass from the former Aquilen. She took a sip, nose scrunching slightly at the strange taste. It wasn’t bad, per say, just...different.

Akari smiled, a chuckle forming in her throat. She licked her lips before swinging one leg over Natasha, straddling her lap. She placed one of her hands on the back of the couch beside Natasha’s head, the other hand covering Natasha’s on the glass. She brought the drink back up to her lips.

“If we want to blend in,” she purred, her voice heady, eyes narrowing in on the other girl’s, “we need to be having… fun.”

Natasha stared at Akari as the older woman suddenly moved onto her lap, the movement catching her off guard. Normally, particularly with someone that managed to annoy her as much as Akari did, she would have pushed the woman away, probably taken away her drink as well. But something, probably the fuzzy, excited feeling that seemed to be building up inside of her, stopped her from doing that. Instead, she placed her free hand on Akari’s black-clad thigh, eyes locked on the other woman’s.

“I think I can manage that,” she murmured, barely loud enough to be heard over the pounding music.

Beatrice bopped her head in time with the music playing overhead, polishing off her second glass of scotch while Calix still nursed his first, fidgeting with the waistband of her skirt which had grown increasingly itchy against her smooth legs. 

You should find someplace to take it off.

Looking up at Calix, her eyes gleaming, heart pounding, she beamed brightly and wrapped her arms around his neck. “You wanna know somethin’ just awesome?” she slurred drunkenly, carding her fingers through his thick hair.

Calix pinched his eyes, trying to ignore the noises around him. It was substantially easier with Beatrice around. She always had a way of capturing his attention. When she smiled or touched his skin the rest of world seemed to melt away into nothingness.

However, he was anxious about her. And himself. He had started to feel a minute pain in the back of his skull, like the drumbeat pounding on his brain. It couldn’t have been the alcohol? He had only taken a sip from the glass; barely more than a thimble full of bronze liquor.

How fucking strong is this shit?

He put the glass down on the countertop, clicking his tongue against the roof of his palette in disgust. The red mist crawled apprehensively along his body as he linked his arms around Beatrice’s waist, though Calix paid it little heed. He was more concerned with the knock-out effect whatever Beatrice’s drink of choice had on her, sensing a drastic change in her chemistry.

“What’s awesome, love?” he whispered in her ear, placing a tender kiss to her curve of her neck.

“You’re all mine,” she said grinning proudly as she leaned up, pressing a teasing kiss to his lips before standing down and starting to pull away. “And I’m all yours. Like you could easily have anybody in this whole place, but I’m the one you wanna be with. And tha’s just so awesome,” Beatrice said, walking back towards the staircase upstairs.

Did that make any sense? Do you care if it did?

“I’m all yours, and only yours,” he repeated, a summer warmth of love rising in his chest. Of all the people in the room, Beatrice was the one to watch - she was always the most beautiful person wherever they were. And watch, the bumbling bodies did. They peered and whistled as she passed by.

He was the lucky one; she could have had anyone in the world.

As Beatrice moved away, Calix followed her footsteps. She was much drunker than he’d ever seen her before, which didn’t stand to reason, and his protectiveness grew wild.

‘I’m all yours,’ he thought, ‘I always will be.’

“I wonder where e’erbody else has gone to,” she shouted behind her. Blindly grabbing out for him, she took hold of his hand and drunkenly dragged him up the stairs, her smile growing even wider when she saw Mel and Enzo not far away from them at the top of the staircase. An excited squeal escaped from her soft pink lips, offending the eardrums of some clubbers passing them by. “Cal, look it’s our friends!”

Calix loyally kept to Beatrice’s side, allowing himself to be dragged up the stairs as the dull drum inside his skull intensified. He spotted his friends halfway up the steps and smiled brightly at them.  

Maybe they’re having better luck than we are.

“Enzo! Wassup man?” Beatrice slurred, stepping towards the Frenchman, her arms wide open for a hug. “You know you’re like one of the luckiest men alive? You get to date this gorgeous lil’ lady right here,” she said, winking playfully at Mel nearby.

Enzo smiled, a soft laugh escaping him as he hugged Beatrice tightly, swaying slightly as the alcohol began to take effect. Small, pink flowers dotted his vision, and they smelled, unlike anything he had ever encountered before… and he wanted more.  

“I know I am,” he said as he released Beatrice, putting an arm around Melanie’s waist with pride.

Calix pinched the bridge of his nose again, trying to forget the clear din vibrating in his ears. He turned to check on his drunk girlfriend. When he looked he was overcome with a sense of unexplainable desire prompting him to how fair she was.

It was a bizarre sensation, one that drove him to wrap his arms around the small of her back and pull her tightly to his chest.

“Has anyone one seen Nat?” he said, his voice muffled by Beatrice’s neck, a semblance of composure restored to his chaotic mind.

Mel shook her head, reaching up to run her fingers through Enzo’s hair. She was struck then by how good he always smelled, leaning up to bury her nose in his curls.

“I wish she was here,” Mel sighed, resting her chin on Enzo’s shoulder. “Nat is just the best, isn’t she?”

“She is,” Calix murmured with a grin. “I wonder where she is? And Akari too!”

Enzo tilted his head back, the beat surrounding him making him sway. “I think we should get shots…”

“We might find the other two on the way,” Calix agreed, pulling Beatrice by the hand back down the stairs.

“Wait, no! They’re over there,” Beatrice said, tugging her boyfriend back up the stairs. She grinned and waved exuberantly at Natasha who sat beneath a very affectionate Akari straddling her lap. “‘TASHA!’ Hey! It’s us, your friends!” she shouted over the music, swaying back and forth like a tourist on a cruise who hadn’t gotten their sea legs yet.

It took a moment for Natasha to realize there was someone shouting at her, and another moment for her to finally break herself away from Akari. The older woman's lips were soft and inviting, and they seemed to be giving Natasha a euphoric rush that only made her want more. But then her dark eyes landed on the person calling her name: Beatrice, who was surrounded by their rest of their unlikely company. Natasha's usually-stony visage lit up, and she looked at Akari again.

"Those are my friends," she told her, voice still low but now tinted with excitement. "My friends. We should go say hello." Although she liked having Akari on her lap like this and didn't want to move her.

“Mmm,” Akari groaned softly as she pulled away, winking. “Buzzkill.” Akari flicked her eyes away from her current conquest, blinking lazily over to where the other four students who were sent to her stood, gawking at them. She couldn’t help but giggle uncontrollably at the sight. She turned back to Natasha once more, placing a kiss on her jaw before pushing away from the couch, walking over to the group.  

She threw her arms around Calix’s neck, giving him a tight hug. “And how are my favourites?” she asked, leaning into the man.

Enzo leaned into Melanie, sighing softly as Akari made her way to them. Something itched at the back of his head, but he couldn’t quite form a proper image. “Were we not… here… for some-”

“Shots?”

He was pulled from his haze as a woman approached, her sweet voice surrounding them. She was wearing very little, just enough to be considered legal to wear in public. She was carrying a tray, and on it were six shot glasses, each filled with a bubbling pink liquid that seemed to be topped with blue flames.

“They’re on the house,” she said with a bright smile.  

“My favourite kind,” said Mel, grabbing a shot and knocking it back. The warm feeling in her chest continued to blossom.

Akari didn’t even speak before she grabbed the shot, tilting it back over her lips, the blue flame vanishing into her mouth along with any sobriety she may have still possessed.

Enzo followed Melanie’s lead, taking a shot for himself, the fruity liquid strong… but good. He still wanted more.  

Natasha followed Akari over to the others, downing the last dregs of their shared drink before setting the glass aside on a nearby table. She smiled at the others as she reached them, picking up one of the shot glasses and quickly swallowing the sweet liquid.

"It tastes so amazing," she praised, wrapping an arm around Enzo and leaning into his side. Everything felt so warm and nice, and she wanted her friends to feel as good as she did.

Beatrice gasped and dropped the sturdy shot glass on the floor, bouncing up and down, nearly breaking one of her heels in the process. “I have the best idea ever!” she said, wetting her lips. “We should go snoop out the VIP area upstairs, right?”

Mel’s lips pulled into a wide grin. She stumbled forward and wrapped her arms around Beatrice’s neck, pressing her forehead to hers.

“Bea, you are a fucking genius.”

“Let’s go, then!” Akari said excitedly, having to hold onto Calix for fear of falling over in her heels. “I bet there are more driiiinks.”

“Yeah, let go,” Beatrice said, narrowing her eyes at Akari as she pulled Calix away from the overly flirtatious older woman.

Why does it matter if he’s only yours tonight?

She smiled and headed towards the staircase where two very large bodyguards stood glaring at everybody who passed by, occasionally letting an inebriated individual come out, nodding skeptically at those who headed up to the third floor where the VIP area sat.

Enzo kissed his teeth when they neared the staircase, not knowing how to get up at all. He looked at the others, unable to mask the stupid grin on his face. “Plan?”

Natasha let out a laugh, shaking her head. She pressed a friendly kiss to Enzo’s cheek before following after the others. “We walk in!” she shouted back at Enzo, quickly catching up to Akari and snaking an arm around the woman’s waist.

Calix followed after Beatrice, half-dragging Akari along beside him until his fingers lost their clumsy grip on her wrist. He beamed at his unlikely company, feeling lighthearted and carefree as he approached the third floor.

That drop of whatever-it-was was marvelous!

Calix linked his arms with Beatrice and Akari, and pulled the girls, including Natasha, along with him.

“We just walk in,” he repeated, stepping up to the bouncers with his friends in tow, “We’re VIPs! Let’s go!”

Mel skipped to the front of the group, winking at the bouncers as she sauntered past. She waited just beyond their reach for her friends to follow suit. Just like that, they were in.

Watching the way Mel’s hair bounced delightfully as she skipped, Calix dragged the other girls alongside him. He looked briefly over his shoulder, calling out: “Come on, Enzo!”

Enzo padded into the VIP area of the Veil, blinking as he observed the room around him. While the rest of the club was mundane enough, the VIP area was clearly reserved for magical-blood only. There were witches and wizards all over the place, waving their wands to create light shows above the couches they sat on.

“This is incredible,” Akari mused, tilting her head back as she watched in awe while a purple elephant swooped just above her. “God, can we live here?”

“Whoa,” Natasha breathed, staring up at all of the beautiful lights. She turned her head to follow a bright orange bird as it flew past her head, the motion causing the inebriated girl to lose her balance and fall backward into Enzo. She grabbed onto his shirt to steady herself, giggling all the while.

Calix stopped, watching with abandon as luminous creatures danced in front of him. He followed their majestic movements, fixating on a royal blue dragon that glided behind all the griffins and the hippogriffs in the distance.

“I love this place,” he whispered, releasing his grip on the girls and staring at the displays of colour.

Beatrice kept walking forward, her eyes alight with wonder at the shimmering menagerie surrounding her, and let out a sharp squeak as she collided with an empty couch, toppling forwards into a giggly heap on the plush purple leather. “I think I’m gonna just stay right here for like...ever,” she wheezed, propping herself up on her elbows as she looked up at all of her friends. “Join me!”

Enzo avoided a mirage of a tiger before flopping down on the couch not far from Beatrice, leaning his head back as the shot he took mere minutes ago began to take its toll, sending shivers down his spine that reached around to his ribs and hips. It was unlike anything he ever felt.

“Then let’s never leave,” he said to Beatrice, eyeing her with a chuckle.

The thought of spending the rest of his days at the Veil filled Calix with joy. It would be so easy, he’d simply never leave. Deep down, however, there was a nagging rumble in the back of his mind. Something he couldn’t quite put his finger on; it kept getting brushed aside by the music and the lights.

Mel joined her friends on the couch, flopping onto her belly and sprawling across Enzo’s lap. Her hands reached forward and found Beatrice’s. She sighed contentedly as she trailed her fingers along the other girl’s.

“I seem to recall being promised more drinks,” she said, sending Akari a playful look.

Akari rolled her eyes softly as the blonde woman spoke to her. “I’m on it,” she said with a snap of her fingers before heading towards the small bar on the other side of the room.

She returned a few moments later, messily levitating a tray of six orange-red drinks that the bartender claimed were to ‘die for’, setting it down on the small table in front of the others. “Drink up, kids.”

Natasha picked up one of the drinks and dropped down into an empty space on the couch, an ear-to-ear grin spread across her face as she looked at the others.

These are my friends. They’re all so amazing and perfect.

She took a long drink from her glass, exclaiming happily when she tasted it. “Guy, guys,” she said, leaning forward and grabbing onto Akari’s hand to get her attention. “You have to try this.”

Enzo laughed, trying to rub a blurry film from his eyes, but it was futile. Nevertheless, he obeyed Natasha’s instructions and grabbed one of the drinks, hardly able to bring it to his lips before taking a long drink from the slim glass. He smacked his lips a few times, letting the tropical taste washing over every inch of his tongue.

“Wow,” was all he could muster.

“Wow is right,” Akari said after taking her own drink, overwhelmed by how delicious the stuff was. She sat down beside Natasha again, downing the rest of the drink before she rested her head on the other girl’s shoulder.

Beatrice clumsily ran her fingers through her curly black hair, her head feeling like lead dropping onto one of the numerous pillows scattered around the couch, a senseless giddy smile curling her lips into a smile. She ran her tongue over her pearly white teeth, the delicate fruity taste making her mouth tingle. “I wish I could feel like that all the time,” she said, absentmindedly caressing Calix’s thigh with her hand, her fingers trailing along the inner seam of his trousers.

Natasha toyed with Akari’s dark hair as she finished off the rest of her drink in just a few swallows. “I know, it feels so good. I wish we could feel even better, though.”

“Hmm,” Mel mumbled in agreement, turning her back to stare up at her boyfriend’s face in a state of dreamy bliss. She brushed the hair from his face, tilting his chin to force his eyeline to meet with hers.

Enzo stared into Melanie’s eyes, each a different planet that seemed to have the same magnetic field. Without much hesitation, he leaned down, pressing his lips against hers, one hand behind her head and the other resting on her stomach.

Having made his way to the couches after the dragon exploded into a blue starscape above his head, Calix sat down next to Beatrice. He looked up towards the ceiling, taking several deep breaths of air laden with tropical notes.

Calix’s hand graced Beatrice’s thigh, his fingertips slowly tracing the same path her fingers took. When he reached the hem of her skirt, he glanced down at her and smiled, admiring the muzzy smile on her plump lips.

“I think I know how we can feel better real fast,” Beatrice mumbled, her dark eyes gleaming in the shimmering lights. Leaning up quickly, Beatrice captured Calix’s lips in hers and moaned shamelessly into his mouth, one of her toned arms snaking clumsily around his waist. She reached out with her free hand and laced her fingers with Mel’s, tenderly raking her nails over her friend’s soft pale skin.

Natasha watched Bea and Mel both kiss their boyfriends, giggling slightly as she did. “That’s no fair,” she said, a playful pout resting on her lips. “You both have boyfriends to make you feel good.”

“Boyfriends are overrated,” Akari mused to Natasha, grabbing her by the waist before laying back on the couch, hauling her weight on top of her body, raking her hands through the other girl’s dark locks. “This is better.”  

A grin broke out over Natasha’s face as she looked down at Akari. “You’re right,” she hummed, before leaning down and capturing the other woman’s lips in a passionate kiss.

Calix kissed Beatrice, his tongue slipping into her mouth, gentle but demanding. Once, twice, until he tasted sweet cinnamon and boozy liquor, and realised he hadn’t had enough. He kissed her more. His hand started to run higher up Beatrice’s leg as they moaned with an urgent fervour they had never felt before.

A shiver went through Mel’s body when she felt Beatrice’s hand on hers. It propelled her forward, her free hand running through Enzo’s hair as she kissed him more desperately than before.

Enzo’s fingers curled, forming a fist, gripping Melanie’s hair as she kissed him harder, and he returned it. The hand that rested on her stomach slipped around, resting on the small of her back before slowly sliding downwards as he moved his lips down her jaw, neck, and slowly trailing towards her collarbone. He moved his hand from her hair, reaching forward to get a better grip on something. His fingers found flesh. He had no idea who it belonged to, and he didn’t care; everything felt right.

Fingers brushed across Calix’s shoulder. He took a sudden, deep breath, lips caught between his teeth and the dense air, filled with raw passion, slipping through the corners of his mouth. His hands explored further, one snaking around Beatrice’s waist to lift her into his lap, as his heart thundered rhythmically with the violent music.

A moan escaped Beatrice’s lips, her legs trembling with excitement as she straddled Calix’s lap, sloppily peppering a trail of tiny kisses across his flushed cheek, nibbling on his earlobe. The room spun around her, the iridescent lights above fading into one another, beckoning her to do the same. Outside the club, everything was annoyingly hard, easy everyday tasks were wrought with rules and limitations, but there surrounded by her friends, it seemed as though there was nothing they couldn’t do. Reaching out towards a blurry mess of dark hair, Beatrice lightly tapped on what she hoped was somebody’s shoulder.

Natasha breathed heavily as she broke her lips away from Akari's; she reached up and laced her fingers with the hand that tapped on her shoulder, caught up in the whirlwind of the alcohol, the music, and the sounds of her friends making each other so happy. She pressed a few light kisses to Beatrice's tanned skin before looking at the other woman fully.

Beatrice grinned and slid her hand along her friend’s smooth, pale shoulder to her neck, her glittering nails getting caught in Natasha’s long chestnut hair. Her lips parted, dark brown eyes wide as she unconsciously leaned forward until suddenly Beatrice realized she was kissing Natasha.

Maybe you shouldn’t keep going… Pulling back a bit, Beatrice set her forehead against Natasha’s, her thumb slowly tracing the outline of her dewy, bare collarbone until it came to a halt at the hem of her blue shirt.

But why stop now?

Natasha returned the kiss that Beatrice gave her, hand moving to rest on the Samoan’s waist as they broke away. She took only a moment to catch her breath before capturing Beatrice’s lips once more, this time allowing her fingers to tangle with the other woman’s dark curls.

Akari laughed, reaching up behind each of the girls’ heads, grabbing fistfuls of their hair. She moved her body so that she was between them, her lips moving back and forth between their necks as they kissed each other.

Mel broke away from Enzo, her lips still brushing his cheek as she watched the show before them. She stroked Beatrice’s hair, a smile playing on her lips.

“I feel left out,” she murmured in Enzo’s ear. Her hand moved to Calix’s chin, tilting his face towards them. “Calix looks lonely, doesn’t he? Cheer him up, babe.” She brought Enzo’s earlobe between her teeth.

Calix watched Mel bite the Frenchman, his body drawn towards them by the witch’s magnetic touch. A shiver ran down his spine, the blood-music taking complete control.

Untangling his arms from Beatrice’s waist, he reached out to take Enzo’s chin in his grip, spurred to place an exigent and insistent kiss on his lips.

Enzo’s eyes widened, first at Melanie’s words, then at Calix’s sudden movements… but he quickly forgot why he was shocked, and his cheeks lost their heat as he let his lips move against the other man’s, melting into him as he felt his girlfriend smile against his ear. He felt the hem of his shirt creep up his torso - with no idea who was performing the act - and fell against Calix, pinning him down against the couch.

Beatrice pulled back to catch her breath and glanced over her shoulder, her heart skipping a beat as she saw Enzo and Calix’s passionate kiss, starring spellbound by the embrace, her bruised lips curled up in a smile. Gently guiding Mel towards Natasha and Akari, she crawled towards the two men, panting heavily in eager anticipation. Sidling up to Calix she grinned and slid her hand around his waist, pulling his belt off slowly, helping the duo along.

Calix knitted his fingers into Enzo’s hair, tightened his grip on the wiry roots as the kiss took. It was a strong embrace, one Calix felt Enzo dissolve into, hurried along by a stranger’s rummaging hands at his belt and trousers. Calix didn’t care. He should’ve - but, he couldn’t stop himself or his pleasure.

So, he bit down on Enzo’s bottom lip while he searched for the flesh of whoever had joined their entanglement.

Mel kept her eyes locked on the sight, even as Beatrice moved to take her place. She fell back, her head falling into the lap of one of the other girls. She wasn’t sure who. She blindly reached for the face above her and brought it down to her own, running her tongue along the lips that found her.

Natasha smiled when Mel's blonde head landed in her lap, moving down easily to kiss her. Her hand found the Gestona's thigh and pushed up the hem of her black dress, gently caressing her soft skin. After a few passionate moments, she pulled back and guided Mel towards Akari.

Mel allowed herself to be passed along towards Akari. The music blared in her ears, the colours bleeding through the air around her. Her lips found Akari’s, and she pressed her body fully against the other girl’s. Her hands roamed down Akari’s body, and she was heavily aware of Natasha’s presence close behind her, pressing her further forward.

Everything swelled - the music, the colours, and all sense of where they vanished. Mel gasped as she felt Natasha’s lips on her neck. Part of her slipped away, the only conscious part there still was, and she gave herself over completely to the sea of contact writhing around her.

Evangelos smirked and caught his bottom lip between his teeth, eyes glinting darkly as he watched the group of witches and wizards lose their grip on reality, embracing one another freely with wild abandon. He took a pull from his leather covered flask, nodding somberly at the bartender before heading towards his sister’s office overlooking the club from the fourth floor. They had a little breathing room for now.