#I’ve had the design for these bouncing around my head since fae got them

[ninawolv3rina]

When you get loot so iconic you learn how to draw glass about it-

[writing-the-end]

LoL Chapter 27- Hermits

Masterpost

A Wizard Hermits tale (AU, designs, ideas belongs to @theguardiansofredland)

Its not often the hermits get a chance to all be together. And while they know battles lie ahead of them, they take this moment to enjoy being a family again. 

______________________________________

Etho appears beside TFC, causing the mineral mage to sputter out the coffee he was sipping. “I caught sight of xB a few islands down!” 

The hermits murmur with excitement and follow Etho to the shoreline. Sure enough, xB is hauling Hypno and Beef onto the warm sand. Hypno thumps his hand against his head, an attempt to escape his clogged ears which only fails for him. “Can’t we take a sky turtle next time?” 

“But it’s more fun to swim!” xB chuckles, and with a flick of his finned ears and his grey tail he runs to hug the hermits. “It’s so good to be back, guys! I can’t remember the last time all of us were on the island together.”

“You guys said something about taking back Lairyon?” Beef raises an eyebrow, looking over at Doc. “This isn’t your rebellious phase coming back, is it?”

“We’ll explain everything on the way. TFC has a lot to tell.” Etho wraps his arms around Hypno and xB, before disappearing into their shared shadow. 

The kipling laughs, shaking his head and looking around the island. “Some things never change. I see you haven’t fixed the hole in False’s forge either.” 

The hermits laugh, the entire group filled with life as they return to the guild hall. Joe and Cleo regale the missing hermits with the story of their victory at the Chimaera’s Championship. Their battles and challenges in the arena, facing off against the best guilds and winning the cup. They also tell Hypno, xB, and Beef about the heist, the discovery. 

“Why am I not surprised?” Hypno hums, tapping his fingers against the wood of the table that he sits down at. TFC pats the boys on the head, grabbing at Beef’s face and tapping his finger on a scar he sees. Beef shrinks away, concerned for a second, but the guildmaster only chuckles in response.

“I can’t wait to hear that story. It’s good to have you guys back.” TFC pats him on the back. “Treat you to a pint of beer next time we go to town.” 

“Let’s hear about this big job you’ve got planned for us first.” xB raises an eyebrow. In response, TFC rolls out his map.

The paper has changed since they first decided to go after Dolios and his creepy crystals. If there’s one thing an outlaw guild knows how to do, it’s to find new jobs through the grapevine. “Dolios has these tales silenced. I’ve heard of at least six other guilds being attacked or wiped out by unknown magic. Unfortunately, we’re too late to help them.” Team ZIT glance at one another, but focus on the here and now. “But there are places we can make a difference, as well as get information and better ourselves as a group.”

TFC motions to the Evernight forest. “An old friend of mine said there has been stories of familiars and companion animals going missing. No trace of where they went, except for a few patches of charred grass.”

“Charred, or drained?” Mumbo muses. To anyone, that sounds like the signs of a dragon ravaging Foresta, but after Mumbo’s duel with a draconic mage he knows dragons aren’t that dastardly. Nothing is as dastardly as Dolios. 

TFC grins, the newest member and the guildmaster sharing a knowing glint. “There’s also Shellor- which, I believe one of our hermits here knows quite intimately.” Etho gives a two fingered salute, rocking on the back legs of his chair until they fall out from under him, dumping him on the floor. Doc, Beef, and BDubs laugh at him. “There’s a few spies who’ve seen things Dolios has done, but the hard part will be earning their trust.” 

“Hmm, yeah. I don’t think I really left Shellor on a good note.” Etho grimaces. 

“That’ll be you, Keralis, and Grian’s problem. Meanwhile, we also need some help in the magical beings department. And if there’s one group that has mysterious, arcane magic on lock, it’s-”

“The fae!” Stress slams down her hands, a bright smile on her face. Iskall jolts upright and nearly hits the table again on the way down. “But where will we go? The fjords? The mountains? Heartbreak Trench?” 

“The flowerfruit fields. While you’re there, you and BDubs can gather ingredients that we’ve been running low on.” TFC glances at the map, running a finger over the lime green patch on the map. “We do have two confirmed crystal sightings, as well as Gildara. Edenswell seems to be falling ill to dark magic, and there’s reasonable belief that Dolios isn’t getting these massive rocks from nowhere- he’s using gems from the mines.” 

Heads peek over one another in an attempt to see the map. The charcoal diamonds and swirls. Gildara still sits untouched, and every hermit looks at one another. Do any of them want to return to the beginning of this all? Even to put an end to the dark magic plaguing the land, the memories of what they saw, what they experienced, still remain. 

Except for those that weren’t there. “I don’t think I’d mind checking out this hokey little town you guys keep talking about.” Beef grins, glancing over at Hypno and Wels. “We’ll have that place brimming with flaxen fields and green gardens all over again.” 

TFC grins, dipping his head in thanks to the returning hermits. He leans back, looking at the filled guild hall. “It’s been so long since we’ve all been together. If only it were on good terms.” 

“It feels good to return home.” xB ruffles his hair with a scaled hand, looking around for a second, then returning to speaking. “Even if it’s just for a short time, we should enjoy everyone being together again.” 

“What I’m hearing is we need to have our signature hermit celebrations.” Tango’s face splits into a devious smile. All around him, other hermits get a similar smirk on their face. Before TFC can agree to the idea, the hermits are gone. Cleo rushes to her wrecked pirate ship, hefting kegs of ale with the aid of Stress. Wels commandeers False’s forge to begin baking his favorite sweets, while Mumbo, Grian, and Iskall work together to fix the pennants, lanterns, and flags that decorate the guild hall in a myriad of colors. 

Tango snaps his fingers, and a small flame dances at his fingertips, jumping from his nails to the wicks of the lanterns. He ducks out of the way just in time to avoid being smacked in the face by a massive fish, tossed from the sea by xB and grabbed by Grian midair. The whirlpool mage disappears back underwater, back to hunting in the realm he was born in. 

The sun begins to inch towards the western horizon, turning the sky ablaze in a mosaic of pinks, oranges, yellows, and reds. A blue flag flutters against the ancient oak tree, catching on a branch. BDubs reaches out from his seat near the food platters, hardly even glancing away from the fresh baked goods, and with a flick of his wrist the branch bends away and the flag flies free again. 

False appears beside Wels, grabbing a brownie from the hot pan and sticking her tongue out at him as she passes. When Wels objects she’s quick to retort. “You used my forge. It’s rental payment, paladin.” 

Beef sets out plates, which are promptly ignored once Impulse and Zedaph have finished cooking the tuna xB caught. Music swells from a music box the creation of Ren, with the help of Mumbo, the upbeat songs written and composed with Joe and requests from the other hermits for their favorite tunes. 

The music thrums against the low roar of talking, the sound only broken by the common lilt of laughter. Hermits tell their stories, whether they be heard for the thousandth time or a new tale to tell. Beef causes Hypno to flush as he recounts the prank he pulled on the dream mage. Hypno turns bright red, quiet voice cracking over the tale. “I smelled like centaur shit for a week! It was awful, I’ll tell you that.” 

A raucous laugh erupts from that table, overshadowing the story of Mumbo’s duel to xB. “I swear on my life, I thought she was gonna swallow me whole. Or burn me like coal.” Mumbo shakes his head. “I don’t think I ever want to go up against a draconic mage ever again in my life.” 

“I’m surprised a kipling, a draconic mage, and a desert wizard were one team. That’s a strange group. I don’t think I’ve even met each of the others.” xB takes a bite of his fish, marinated in fresh fruits that Cub plucked from nearby islands. “But I’m sure that kipling gave you guys a run for your money. That magic she had… it’s rare beyond imagination. In kipling legend, it means a legendary hero is about to arise.” 

“He definitely kicked Ren’s ass. I don’t think I ever saw so much water moved at once.” Mumbo shakes his head, and stuffs a red jelly tart into his mouth. 

Keralis stands, tossing his woven hat from the brown curls of his hair, and inviting himself onto the open floor. “I love this song! Come on, my wonderful friends, let’s dance!” 

The setting sun casts a golden glow, bouncing off verdant leaves, twisting along the waves of the Ashioll sea. Laughter and music dance in the gilded light, playing in the curls of Zedaph’s hair as he joins Keralis. The two bumble around, drunk from Cleo’s ale but enjoying themselves immensely. 

Only one hermit wasn’t taking part in the festivities. Atop the canopy that protects the guild hall below, Xisuma watches as the stars appear in the sky. For a few moments in the day, the void and the sun share the space above. And he always thinks of the one person he knows he should forget by now. But he would’ve loved this, even if he’s constantly worrying about being caught doing something wrong. 

“Hey X, you gonna mope up there all day or join us?” Jevin grins below, one hand placed on his hip and the other waving Xisuma down. “Just because you’re a void mage doesn’t mean you have to a-void everything!” 

Xisuma rolls his eyes, but smiles beneath his mask. “After that terrible pun, how can I say no?”

[the-regal-warrior]

Cadre Weaponry: Part One

Okay, so I know I’ve been teasing my new AU for a while, and it’s finally finished. This story was an absolute monster to write, and I wanted the whole thing to be finished before I posted it. It’s the longest story I’ve ever written - and it’s the only one I’ve ever finished. The official word count is 34,341 words.

That being said, it will be posted in six parts, starting tonight, with one part a night. I really hope you all like it, because it has meant everything to me.

Before I get into it, I’d like to give a brief shoutout to the following people: @city-of-fae @tangledraysofsunshine @nalgenewhore @musicmaam and @highqueenofelfhame

The five of them have put up with me talking about this story for probably a month now. They helped me figure out characters, they edited, they let me bounce ideas off of them, they let me spam them with updates, and, most importantly, they encouraged me to keep going. I love you all so much, and I’m so grateful for all of you.

Summary: Welcome to Cadre Weaponry - the shop for all your weapons needs, both antique and modern! Join the boys of the Cadre as they become friends and tackle this thing we call life. Maybe, just maybe, they’ll even find love along the way. 

Warnings: Not a whole lot, although there might be some language. There will be smut in later chapters, but nothing in this one, as this is the introductory chapter.

.

PRESENT DAY

Vaughan walked through the front door, eyes sweeping through the store as he made his way to his office. Gavriel was at the front desk, watching over the till and keeping an eye on the few customers who were browsing the aisles this early in the morning. Along the far wall, Fenrys was helping one man as he looked at the swords, no doubt answering any questions he had. Rowan and Lorcan were both in their offices - the former on the phone with a customer and the latter typing away on his computer. Connall, it seemed, had yet to arrive, but Vaughan had no doubt he’d be in soon.

Vaughan just grinned to himself as he sat at his desk chair, tapping the spacebar on his keyboard as he settled in for another day. The screen flashed to life, the store’s logo flashing as it prompted him for his password. 

Cadre Weaponry. 

If someone had told him seven years ago this is what he’d be doing with his life, he would’ve never believed them.

But here he was, doing a job he loved and working with his five best friends. It hadn’t been the easiest of journeys to get to where they were, but they’d made it.

SEVEN YEARS, FOUR MONTHS, AND EIGHT DAYS AGO

Connall followed his brother into their first class of the morning, already dreading the next hour and twenty minutes. Even though both he and Fenrys were business majors, and this was a business class, with one of his favorite professors, he wasn’t looking forward to the class.

Their professor had announced the major project for the entirety of the semester - creating their own mock business - at the end of the last class. Usually this would be a project Connall was all about, but then the professor had dropped the other shoe.

It was a group project.

It wasn’t that Connall didn’t like working with other people - hell, he and Fenrys were partners for every project they could have partners for. It was more the size of the group that deterred him. Groups could be no smaller than four people and no larger than six.

That was a lot of people to rely on for a group project. Especially because their professor had informed them that the group with the most developed project by the end of the semester would be asked to present their work at a conference with investors. 

Casting his eyes around the room, he sized up his fellow classmates as possible candidates for members of his group. 

Across the room, Fenrys was already in a conversation with Rowan Whitethorn, who had been his best friend for years. Clearly, he was already a member of the group.

That left one more spot to fill - no way Connall was dealing with more people than was strictly necessary. Huffing a sigh at his possible options, his gaze finally landed on Vaughan Osten. He and Connall had met as freshman in a required math course, and though he wouldn’t call him a friend, Connall trusted his work enough to ask him to join their group.

Resigned to his fate, Connall just sank into his seat and turned his gaze back to the front of the classroom, waiting for their professor to start the day.

~*^*~

As soon as the professor announced that everyone should split up into their groups, Vaughan caught Connall’s eye across the room. Nodding once, he hauled his bag over his shoulder, making his way to where Fenrys and Connall were pushing desks together to form a table of sorts. As he navigated the other students frantically trying to put groups together, he was waylaid at the feeling of a hand on his arm.

Turning, he found himself staring up into the displeased face of Lorcan Salvaterre. It wasn’t that Lorcan was necessarily upset to see Vaughan - that was just his natural expression. The two of them had met in a basic web design class they’d both taken last year, and they often worked together when it was necessary. 

“Hey,” Lorcan started, his voice sounding like he didn’t use it that often. “I thought we could work together on this thing?”

Vaughan hesitated. He already had a group, although he didn’t actually know how many people were in it. He figured the least he could do was take Lorcan with him and see if there was a spot for him. “Sure, sure. I’ve got a group in mind, but if we’re lucky they’ll still have open spots.”

Lorcan nodded once, and began following Vaughan to the far side of the room. When they got to the table the brothers had pushed together, Connall raised an eyebrow at the sight of Lorcan standing next to Vaughan. 

“Who’s this?” Connall grumbled, not pleased with the thought of adding another person.

Vaughan only grinned, knowing that Connall didn’t mean to be rude. “Lorcan Salvaterre, meet Connall Moonbeam. Connall, don’t worry, he’ll carry his own weight.”

Connall only huffed and turned to face his brother, who was standing there with Rowan Whitethorn and Gavriel Lionheart. Rowan he’d expected - he and Fen were thick as thieves - but Gavriel was a bit of a surprise. 

Sensing his brother’s rising frustration at yet another unexpected group member, Fenrys only said “Gavriel’s a friend of Rowan’s. He’ll put in the work, don’t worry.”

Connall didn’t look pleased, but he gestured for them to pull up more desks and sit down anyway.

~*^*~

Fifty minutes into the class, and they’d quickly established what everyone could bring to the project. As business majors, and children of business owners, Fenrys and Connall would obviously be heading up the project. Gavriel, as an accounting major, was put in charge of handling their business’s finances. Vaughan would handle all of the advertisement and marketing plans, since he was a marketing major.

Rowan and Lorcan were a bit more removed from the business side of things, but they both had their places. Rowan was a communications and graphic design major, so he would work with Vaughan on marketing schemes, as well as design the company’s logo and bring anything that needed drawing to life. Lorcan would also be assisting Vaughan, as well as designing a website for the mock business they were meant to be starting. As a computer science major, he was easily the most skilled in things like coding and programming.

The six of them had all of the work divided up quite nicely.

What they didn’t have, however, was a business to start.

They couldn’t seem to find any common ground, anything that interested all six of them enough that they could dedicate such a major project to it. They kept tossing around ideas, but they were always shot down, either because it wouldn’t give everyone enough work for the project, or because someone didn’t know enough about the topic to make it work, or for a million other reasons. 

They were in the middle of arguing over the latest failed idea - a food truck - when their professor stopped by to check on their progress. Lorcan was against it for the sheer fact that he wouldn’t have enough to do - food trucks didn’t exactly need websites - and Gavriel didn’t know enough about the workings of food trucks to be comfortable with the financial aspect of the project.

“How’s it going over here guys?” the man asked, though by the smirk on his face, they figured he knew it wasn’t going as well as they’d hoped. 

Glancing around the group once, Fenrys finally settled on, “well, we know what everyone’s going to do, but we don’t actually have a business idea.”

“Instead of trying to find an idea right away, why don’t you spend some time finding things all of you are interested in. I’m sure you’ll find something.” With that, their professor just smirked at them once more and walked over to the next group.

~*^*~

Twenty minutes later, they still didn’t have a business plan that everyone could agree on, and they were running out of time. 

“Gods above, Mom and Dad didn’t tell us starting a business was this difficult.” Connall nodded at his brother’s words, thumping his head down on the desk with the final pitch of his head. “They always just said they wanted to open a store to sell antique weapons, so they made it happen.”

“Wait,” Gavriel broke in, his eyes widening ever so slightly with whatever idea had crossed his mind. “Your parents sell antique weapons?”

“Yeah?” Connall replied, his confusion evident in his tone. 

“Could we do something like that?” 

Rowan and Vaughan nodded along with Gavriel’s words, clearly fascinated by the idea.

Lorcan thought about it for a moment before replying. “What if we expanded upon your parents’ business?”

Fenrys raised a questioning eyebrow, and the others looked intrigued as well, so Lorcan continued, “we could design a business that sells not only antique weapons, but modern ones as well. That way it wouldn’t just be a project about your parents’ store, but a new business, with a wider variety of products.”

They all shared a look before grinning, hurrying to jot down a few brief notes in the five minutes that remained of the class.

SEVEN YEARS, ONE MONTH, AND FIFTEEN DAYS AGO

Gavriel watched Connall out of the corner of his eye as their professor returned their projects. He’d returned all but two - theirs being one of the two - and Connall’s fists were clenched so tightly his knuckles were turning white. The professor was speaking briefly to each group as he returned them - they’d all presented their projects during the last class, having turned them in the week before, and now they were just waiting to see which group had won. Their professor had informed them that he’d announce the winning group after all the projects were returned.

Needless to say, the six of them were fairly nervous, although Connall seemed to be freaking out more than the rest of them.

Gavriel couldn’t help the small snort that escaped him  as Connall dropped his head onto his desk and groaned quietly when their professor turned to the other remaining group, clearly intending to leave them for last. Fenrys, it seemed, was used to this behavior from his brother, as he just started flicking the back of his head until Connall lifted his head and shot a glare at his brother. 

Hissing a harsh “cut it out, asshole” at his twin, Connall turned to face the rest of the group just as their professor walked up to them, a smile on his face. 

“Boys,” he started, setting the large stack of papers that was their project on the table between them, “this was one of the best mock business projects I’ve seen in a very long time. The idea to take what you knew about an already existing business and apply it to your project really improved the quality of your work. Every part of the project was well-planned and incredibly detailed. I’m pleased to inform you that your project is the only one I’ve been able to give a perfect score.”

Grinning at them once more, the man turned to face the rest of the class. “I’m pleased to announce that the group who will be attending the conference is The Cadre.”

Chuckles rang out across the classroom even as the boys celebrated their hard work. Over the course of the semester, the boys had gone from classmates to friends, and people had given the nickname after seeing them together so often. It was especially common within this class - since their classmates saw them in the library constantly, and it helped that they had given their mock business the name “Cadre Weaponry,” but it was a name that was beginning to stick outside of class. 

Casting a look around his group, Gavriel smiled and accepted the high five Rowan was offering him. Connall looked like he could finally breathe, even with Fen’s arms wrapped around his neck as he hugged him quite enthusiastically from behind. Vaughan was clapping Connall on the shoulder, and Lorcan, by far the quietest and most reserved of the group, was just smirking at their antics - though he did accept the fist bump Rowan offered him.

SIX YEARS, TEN MONTHS, AND TWELVE DAYS AGO

Lorcan shoved his hands into his pockets, his fingers digging into the fabric in an attempt to keep from pulling at the tie he had been forced into by Connall early that morning. Lorcan had claimed that the suit jacket - “monkey suit” had been his exact wording - was more than enough, but Connall had disagreed.

Now, the conference was nearly over, and all Lorcan wanted to do was get out of the ridiculous contraption and back into his standard jeans and t-shirt combo.

Sighing when he realized he still had another hour left, Lorcan let his gaze travel over the five guys he was finally starting to refer to as friends, surprised once again by how they’d gotten here. 

When they’d first put this group together, it was more out of sheer necessity than anything else. The first couple meetings had been a little awkward, everyone trying to figure out how to work together and things like that. But they’d quickly settled into an easy routine, and by the end of the assignment they were all fairly good friends. Winning the spot at the conference had required them to stay in touch after the class was over, though something told Lorcan they would have remained friends anyway. 

Now, here they were several months later, pitching their business idea to investors - many of whom had seemed interested enough in the idea that they probably would have offered financial backing if the six of them had actually been considering trying to get this business off the ground. 

It was just as Lorcan was contemplating this that a couple walked over to them, looking mildly intrigued by the display they’d put together. Readying himself to have to explain their proposal for what felt like the millionth time that day, Lorcan was taken aback when the woman pulled Connall into a hug, the man standing beside her clapping Fenrys on the shoulder. 

Fenrys reached out to wrap an arm around the woman as he said, “guys, I’d like you all to meet our parents. Mom, Dad, these are the guys - Lorcan, Rowan, Vaughan, and Gavriel.”

There were handshakes all around as the Moonbeams introduced themselves to everyone. Finally, their father cast a glance at the display behind them before saying, “the boys were telling us about your project, and we’re fairly intrigued. Do you think you could tell us more about it?”

The six of them shared a glance before launching into their proposal, this time with more emphasis on their own individual roles, since the Moonbeams knew the basic premise already. 

Once they had finished, the couple shared a look before Mrs. Moonbeam asked them something that left them all so shocked it was a minute before anyone could reply. 

“Have the six of you ever thought about turning this project into an actual business?”

Seeing that all of them were too stunned to reply, she elaborated. “I’m sure all of you know that Fenrys and Connall are meant to be taking over the business once they graduate?” When they all nodded, she added, “well, what if all of you came to work for the business, and turned it from what it is now - Moonbeam’s Antique Weapons - into Cadre Weaponry - a store that sells antique weapons and modern firearms and weapons?”

Gavriel, ever the logical one, was the first to come up with a response. “Even if we all wanted to, how would that work? In this scenario, the one outlined in the proposal, we’re all part-owners. But, you’re giving the business to Fen and Con, so would we be working for them?”

Connall looked pensive when he added, “well, you could always buy into the business. We would be the owners to start, but then you could buy your share of the company.”

“And while it would just be the two of us listed, we would just be owners in name only,” Fenrys continued. “We would all share the responsibilities of owning the business, and then you just buy your share whenever you can.” 

Vaughan chuckled. “It sounds like you have this pretty well thought out already.”

Their father nodded his head at Vaughan’s words. “When the boys started telling us about your project, we were pretty taken with it. We asked if they thought you’d want to actually bring the business to life, and we started planning how all of it would work, in case you did.”

Rowan, who’d been fairly quiet throughout the whole conversation, finally piped up. “I mean, it’s not a horrible idea. With the six of us, we have all the components to make the business a reality.”

Gavriel and Vaughan nodded along, but Lorcan still wasn’t sold. “Gavriel and I are the only ones graduating this year - the rest of you still have a year to go. What exactly are the two of us meant to be doing while we wait for you lot to graduate and Fenrys and Connall to take over the business?”

“Well,” Mrs. Moonbeam cut in, “you’re more than welcome to come work for us. You’ll have a steady job for a year, which will help you make money to buy your share of the company, and you’ll have a chance to familiarize yourself with the business.”

“And,” Mr. Moonbeam added, “the rest of you are welcome to work summers and breaks with us as well, and even weekends during the semester if you want. Fenrys and Connall already do, but we could use the extra help.”

Everyone looked like they were convinced that this could actually work when Rowan brought in another point to the contrary. “As great as that sounds, won’t all four of us have internships to do next year? It’s not like we’ll have time for jobs if we’re all learning how to navigate entirely different companies.”

Their parents looked thoughtful for a moment, clearly trying to decide on whether or not to say what they were thinking. Finally, Mrs. Moonbeam seemed to decide it would work, because she said, “we’ve already talked to the university about the boys doing their internship with us, since we’re the company that wants to hire them upon graduation. I’m sure we could do the same for you and Vaughan.”

“Plus, if we showed them your project and told them that you were planning to actually make it a reality, I’m sure they’d have no problem with it,” Mr. Moonbeam interjected. 

The six of them were silent for several minutes, all of them clearly thinking about whether or not this was something they wanted to go for. Lorcan knew it would be hard for him to buy his share of the company - he’d never had much money, and the little he had went toward helping his mom pay the bills - but he desperately wanted to find a way to make it work.

He’d just come to the conclusion that he was willing to try when he heard Vaughan say, “well, I don’t know about the rest of you, but I’m in.”

Fenrys and Connall were quick to nod along with him, grins splitting across both of their faces.

Gavriel nodded too, adding, “I’m in as well.”

“Count me in.” That was Rowan, grinning as he spoke.

As one, all five of his friends turned to face Lorcan, their expressions hopeful. “What the hell,” he settled on. “Let’s make this happen.”

FIVE YEARS, EIGHT MONTHS, AND TWO DAYS AGO

He couldn’t believe it. He’d graduated college only a few days ago, and Rowan Whitethorn was already a business owner in everything but name. He’d spent the last year learning how the company worked, familiarizing himself with all the aspects of owning a business and slowly working to implement the necessary changes that would allow for the sale of modern firearms and weapons as well as antique ones. 

All of the permits had gone through, everything that needed to be approved was approved. They’d even gotten new stock in, but they had decided against displaying and selling any of it until the twins were in place as the new owners and the company was entirely run by the boys. 

The Moonbeams had handed over the company to their sons the day before, the brothers now the official owners of the company. Their second order of business had been to call a meeting - that Rowan was currently on his way to - to discuss the remodeling of the store. The first had been to shut down the store for a week to allow them the time to get everything in place.

He’d just climbed out of his beat-up Bronco when he heard the tell-tale sound of a motorcycle pulling into parking lot. Vaughan pulled into the spot next to him, a wry grin on his face as he climbed off the bike. By the looks of it, they were the last to arrive, since Lorcan’s truck was parked next to Gavriel’s, and he could just see Connal’s Jeep and Fenrys’s motorcycle parked around the side of the building.

“So,” Vaughan smirked, mischief sparking in his eyes, “what do you think our new bosses have planned for us today?”

“I haven’t a clue, but you’re going to milk the shit out of them being the official bosses for as long as you can, aren’t you?”

Vaughan just winked as he pulled the front door open, Rowan following him into the store. From what he could see, only the front half of the building was in use, rows of antique weaponry on display with the till in the front corner and some desks along the back wall, which he assumed served as the offices.

It was around one of these desks that everyone else had gathered, so he followed Vaughan to the back of the store, mind already whirling with ideas of how to best use the space the building provided. 

“Morning, boss.” Vaughan tipped an imaginary hat at Connall before doing the same to Fenrys. “And to you as well, boss.”

The twins just flipped him off in unison, nodding to Rowan in greeting. Gavriel barked out a laugh next to them, the rest of them soon following suit. 

“So, what brings us all here at six on a Saturday morning?” Lorcan, it appeared, was not happy about the early hour of the meeting.

‘Well,” Fenrys started, looking around at the group of friends gathered around him, “we were thinking we could get started on some renovating and reorganizing today. Connall and I have some ideas we wanted to run by all of you for how best to organize the space, but we want your input too.”

When everyone seemed more than ready to start, the two of them quickly launched into their plans. Apparently, the back section of the building that wasn’t in use consisted of several smaller rooms that were being used for storage - particularly for the new stock that they hadn’t put out yet. Fenrys and Connall thought it would be a good idea for each of them to have their own office, since they would each be in charge of different aspects of running the business. Even with them needing six offices, that still left three rooms for storage in the back, and moving the desks out of the front would give them plenty of extra space for the firearms and weapons that hadn’t been put out yet. 

They had also started planning what the new floorplan of the store would be, but they wanted everyone’s input on that. After a long discussion, they all finally came to an agreement on what the best plan was, with Rowan drawing out the layout as they went.

“Now,” Connall piped up after they’d finished, “we have one more surprise for you - a final gift of sorts from our parents.”

He disappeared into the back, so Fen added, “I remembered how much we all loved the business logo Rowan designed for us, so I hope we still feel the same way.”

Connall came back in carrying a huge sign, which he turned around to show them. Displayed in bold letters, using the logo he’d designed, were the words “Cadre Weaponry.” Rowan was in complete shock - he couldn’t believe he would get to come to work every day in a store that he would eventually be part-owner of, and that he would get to see his own design staring down at him while he did. 

Once everyone had finished admiring the sign, they were quick to get to work, knowing how much effort it was going to take to get this place open in a week. Reorganizing the store would come first, and then they were each in charge of their own offices. Lorcan was also in charge of getting the new website up and running, and Rowan had to design the new business cards. Gavriel had to familiarize himself with the books, and Vaughan had to start marketing the new business so that word about all their new products would reach the public.

They had a lot to do in a week, but Rowan was more than up to the challenge. 

FIVE YEARS AND ONE DAY AGO

Fenrys couldn’t help the grin that broke across his face as he walked through the door. This place, this business - it was everything he’d ever dreamed of for so long. It was more, even. And getting to share it with his best friends - well, that meant everything. 

And as of today, it was officially shared among the six of them. It had taken some time, but they were all officially owners of Cadre Weaponry.

Rowan had been the first to become an owner, after Connall and himself. The Whitethorn family was wealthy, and between his graduation gifts and a loan from his parents - a small portion of his inheritance taken early - Rowan had become an owner about a month after graduating college. 

Gavriel had followed soon after, using the money he’d saved up after working for the Moonbeams for a year to cover part of his share of the business. For the rest, he’d taken a loan out, after spending the previous year and a half building his credit in order to qualify for the loan.

Next had been Vaughan, who had purchased his share three months ago. His grandfather, who’d saved up a small fortune during his life, had passed away and left most of his savings to Vaughan. The first thing he’d done with the money was buy into the business, making him the fifth owner. 

And now, today, Lorcan had finally saved up enough after a year and a half of working to be able to become a part-owner. 

Clapping his brother on the shoulder as the door swung shut behind him, Fenrys rounded the cash register, dropping the blue gift bag he’d been carrying onto the counter. “Morning, guys!”

“Well, you’re certainly chipper,” Connall quipped, the only other one of the guys who knew why Fenrys had made them all come in for an early morning meeting.

“Yeah, especially considering how early it is.” Gavriel yawned to punctuate his point.

Rowan gave him a skeptical look. “Seriously Fen, why are we all here this early?”

“My friends, today is a very important day here at Cadre Weaponry.” The rest of them grumbled at his theatrics, but Fenrys just adopted a shit-eating grin and continued with his speech. “As of today, Cadre Weaponry has six owners.”

He paused as the others weighed his words, Connall smirking next to him. Lorcan just looked mildly pleased with himself, at least until the other three turned to face him. Then his cheeks turned slightly pink, and he ducked his head, even as they all cheered and moved to pull him into congratulatory hugs. 

While they were all celebrating, Fenrys took a moment to study his companions, taking in the changes that had occurred since they’d met in college. Rowan’s tattoo, which had covered his entire left arm, now sprawled down onto his hand and crawled up his neck and onto the side of his face. Likewise, Gavriel had added to his chest tattoo, continuing the design up onto his throat and the sides of his neck. Lorcan and Fen had both added to theirs as well, both of them now having full sleeves. 

And many of them had gotten piercings in the few years they’d been friends. Fenrys himself had gotten his nose pierced, and Connall, who’d gone with him, had walked out of the tattoo shop with a pierced septum. And Vaughan, always the wild one, had shown up a week later with a tongue piercing.

Fenrys couldn’t wait to see what changes the next few years would bring.

Once everyone had finally let him go, and Lorcan was sufficiently pink in the face, Fenrys handed him the bag he’d set on the counter. “Welcome - officially, anyway - to the business, Lorcan.”

Lorcan just nodded, and with a whispered word of thanks, he took the proffered bag. Pulling tissue paper from its depths, he smirked when he realized what the bag contained. “Thanks, Fen, Con,” he replied, grinning at them. “Shall we go put it up?”

The others leaned forward to see what was in the bag, laughing when they realized it was the same thing they had all received. It was a plaque for Lorcan’s office door that read “Lorcan Salvaterre, Owner.” All of their doors were labelled, but Fenrys and Connall got them new ones with “owner” added to it when they officially bought into the business. 

Connall grinned, the expression a mirror of the one on his brother’s face. “I think that sounds like an excellent idea.”

.

Tags: @highqueenofelfhame @city-of-fae @musicmaam @throne-of-ashes-and-beauty @tacmc @tangledraysofsunshine @lordof-bloodshed @how-to-be-a-bad-ass-be-me @nalgenewhore @bookrebelwordwarrior @sleeping-and-books @froggy-waddles @mis-lil-red @keep-a-bucket-full-of-stars

As always, if you would like to be added to my tag list, please let me know - oh, and let me know if you want to be added to my permanent tags or just my tags for this fic!

Thank you all so much for reading - part two comes out tomorrow night!

[pocket-monsters-precure]

Chapter 18: Danger! A Test of Precure’s Worth!

Wish was frozen in shock. The being standing before them was the source of many a cautionary tale, a living urban legend, and it had violated the safety of her mind to communicate.

 Mewtwo’s eyes were fixed on Wish...its precedessor’s power emanated from her. A power once thought only shared by two beings, itself one of them. Its eyes snapped wider. Wish threw her head back, as it burrowed deeper into her memory.

 “Wish!?” Starlight rushed to her side. She whipped her head toward Mewtwo. “What are you doing!?”

 After a pause, it tensed its shoulders a bit, leering at the group. So Mew chose you to receive the power of a Precure. How queer. Your memories show you to be timid…passive. Certainly such qualities would make you unfit to receive the blessing of a legendary pokemon?

 Wish placed a hand to her temple, mouth agape, unable to answer.

 “Where do you get off!?” Starlight hissed.

 “Yeah, who are you to talk!?” Incensed, Rotomi zipped up to Mewtwo, glaring into its unfazed eyes. “If what Fae said before is true, you’re a manufactured pokemon with a legendary’s power—you’re not a true legendary! Who do you think you are that you can decide who can or can’t be a Precure!?”

 Mewtwo stared back at Rotomi, before encapsulating her in a ball of its psychic power, knocking her away with a mere tip of its head and a shooing gesture.

 I don’t care about such a trivial title, it replied, as Rotomi bounced around the cave before the psychic bubble popped and left her dizzy on the ground, but I have seen the cruel, selfish culture of humanity many times since my creation. Why would pokemon choose such shallow creatures, whose cons outweigh their pros, to defend us?

 “…you acknowledge that humans have their good points, though,” Wish reasoned. Mewtwo stared coldly back.

 Not nearly enough.

 “So what do you want?” Starlight stepped in front of Wish, glaring.

 Satisfy my curiosity. Mewtwo raised its paws. Face me, Precure. Show me what the legendary pokemon see in you.

 Rotomi dizzily floated back to the girls, shaking herself back to her senses. “Looks like we don’t have much choice…but there’s only two of you. I don’t think I can teleport back and still have enough energy to bring Sunrise and Willow back.”

 Wish and Starlight shared a glance, before Starlight looked back to Rotomi and replied, “See if you can head back. Once you’re there, try to get some rest and recharge as much as you can before bringing them back.”

 “We’ll do our best to satisfy Mewtwo,” Wish responded. But it was clear her stomach had sunk to new depths. Rotomi looked between the two girls, then nodded, beginning to spin and vanishing with a flash. Wish and Starlight stood up straight, sidestepping to put some distance between the two of them.

 “Mewtwo,” Starlight began, “Our powers were given to us to fight nega-evolutions…but if you want to fight, so be it!”

 Mewtwo flew forward, clashing with a Full Moon Aegis thrown up by Wish. It quickly overpowered her and smashed her against the wall, debris flying out, before flying back and unleashing a shadow ball.

 “Don’t pick on her!” Starlight shouted, charging her arms and legs with stellar energy as she leapt up, sending a diving kick at Mewtwo. It took the impact of the kick with a shield it summoned, arms raised. Dissipating the shield, Mewtwo caught Starlight’s incoming charged punches and kicks in its paws, skidding back in the dirt a bit.

 “Comet BURST!” Starlight slammed her fists together and combined the energy, launching the ball back at it. Mewtwo caught the ball, only for the ball to detonate around it.

 Your control of such power is rather intuitive, it seems.

 “Shut up! You talk smack about my teammate and then have the nerve to sit here and analyze while in a fight!?” Starlight angrily conjured up a Comet Fastball, hurling it as Mewtwo swatted it down, letting it explode on the ground.

 See, analysis is part of any sort of interaction, Mewtwo replied, drifting to and fro to avoid her incoming strikes, I was giving credit where it is due. Mewtwo backed up, finding itself surrounded by spheres of light courtesy of Wish’s Whimsy Pop attack; the lights promptly detonated around it before it could throw up a barrier.

 “Nice job, Wish!”Starlight cheered. Wish kept her hands up in a casting position, staring anxiously at the cloud of smoke left behind. Mewtwo burst out of it, leering at them as it fired a barrage of psychic attacks at the pair, too quickly for Wish to throw up a barrier. It thrust out its paws again, making a swiping motion and using telekinesis to throw the Precure against separate walls and hold them there.

 Impressive power from such young children…but you are only human, in the end.

 It felt like the air itself was pushing down on them. Wish felt like she couldn’t breathe. Starlight clenched her fists and grit her teeth.

 “Wh-what…does this…prove..!?” Starlight snarled. Mewtwo seemed to pause.

 Prove?

 Then...

BOOSH!

 WHAM!

 A combined strike. A Moonblast, followed by a Night Slash, struck Mewtwo and broke his concentration, dropping the two Precure. Clefable and Absol had arrived on the scene, glaring at Mewtwo.

 “C-Clefable….you made it…!” Wish caught her breath, sighing in relief as she was hugged by her pokemon partner.

 “Atta girl.” Starlight rubbed Absol’s head, then stood up. “Mewtwo…you’re wasting our time with this fight.”

 “Sh-she’s right….” Wish stood up as well, Clefable standing in front of her defensively. “Someone nega-evolved an Onix here, and they may still be here.”

 The cursed one who attacked me…I was forced to defend myself. I will give you that much gratitude; you treated the malady; I had no ability to do so.

 “So that’s why you waited to teleport us…”

 I wanted to see the process by which Precure treat the afflicted. But enough of that; my curiosity is not yet sated.

 “Of course it’s not.” Starlight snarled. Mewtwo glanced toward her.

 And how do you mean that?

 “I’ve heard the stories countless times,” Starlight replied, “You were created to fight. To be the most powerful. Fighting’s all you care about, isn’t it? If that’s the case, you’ll never be satisfied.”

 Mewtwo paused. Then tilted its head. You mean to try and tell *me* how I feel? An aggressive young human gifted with powers beyond what she deserves…and another, passive one somehow deemed to carry my predecessor’s power! It snapped its head back toward Wish, who flinched. I had assumed the humans chosen to be Precure were different from the filth I had witnessed before…but it appears the choice was simply based on random opportunity!

 Mewtwo’s power flared around him. You have failed to prove your worth still, Precure!

 ==

 “Mewtwo itself challenged Wish and Starlight!?” Kailani gasped, as Rotomi lay tiredly in her hands.

 “Y-yeah…I need to charge up fast so I can warp you guys back to help them…!”

 “The legendary genetic pokemon…”Dr. Pierce breathed, a hand over her mouth in shock. “To think it would challenge the Precure to a fight…!”

 “We need to get you your strength back, quickly…!” Asuka looked to Kailani’s Rotom Dex, charging nearby. “Rotom! Please lend us your home!”

 “On it, bzzt!” Rotom flew out. Asuka gingerly took Rotomi from Kailani and set her down atop the screen, letting her enter the device to begin recharging her strength.

 “I hope it doesn’t take too long….” Kailani frowned.

 “The Cure Dex has a touchscreen that allows you to generate virtual food she can eat,” Dr. Pierce replied, “But Fae has it, and….she’s with that…thing…”

 “We only know about Mewtwo from stories…” Asuka looked to Dr. Pierce, “What else can you tell us…?”

 “Well, a few experimental logs were retrieved from its birthplace after Mewtwo destroyed it…I had the logs sent to me from the institute I used to work with a few years ago…” Dr. Pierce went to her computer, searching for the logs. “Offhand, I know Mewtwo’s highly aggressive and designed for battle; its raw psychic strength is impossible for anyone to control. Though Mewtwo reacted aggressively to its original creators when it…well…blew up the lab, it simply…ran away afterward. No vicious attacks on humans, or attempts to do so. It simply…wanted to be left alone. There have been occasions where powerful psychic readings were detected in different locations, but whenever researchers tried to pinpoint the source, the readings would move; it was likely Mewtwo detecting humans getting too close and leaving.”

 “So it’s been nomadic all this time…” Kailani frowned, looking to the Rotom Dex. “So why challenge Wish and Starlight?”

 “It wanted them to…’show their worth,’ it said,” Rotomi replied tiredly.

 “You mean like a fight!?” Kailani balked at the thought.

 “That’s not good at all,” Asuka began to fret, “Such an aggressive creature against Fae and Naomi…!”

 “There’s gotta be a way to heal up Rotomi faster…!” Kailani looked around, then spotted Raichu snacking in the corner.  “Raichu!” She ran over, putting a hand on his head. “I got an idea!”

 “Chu?” Raichu stared up at her, cheeks stuffed with food. Kailani pointed to the Rotom Dex.

 “Okay, use your electricity. Carefully charge up the Rotom Dex!”

 “You could really badly damage it if you do that, though!” Asuka replied.

 “It’s more important that we hurry and get to our friends, right!?”

 Asuka went silent at that question, then nodded. “…alright. Let’s give it a shot!”

 Kailani guided Raichu over to the table where the Dex was sitting. Raichu’s cheeks sparked up, as he levitated the Rotom Dex into his paws, beginning to trickle electricity in.

 ==

 “Type: Dark!” Starlight joined forces with her Absol. “Precure Wicked Whirl!”

 A swirling cyclone of dark wind broke through Mewtwo’s barrier, the powerful psychic grunting in pain as its weakness was exploited. But its powers flared up again, now enraged as it swatted away an incoming Wish and Clefable, who were in the middle of executing a team dive kick.

 Foolish! Mewtwo hurled a barrage of psychic energy all around it, striking at the walls, floors, anywhere that made impact. Reckless! It caught an angered Clefable in its paws and threw her behind it. Pernicious humans, and the pokemon who willingly fight beside you! Soldiers in a war in which you do not belong, nor are you needed!

 “You just had to get it angry by running your mouth, didn’t you!?” Wish snapped at Starlight.

 “Anything could have set it off!” Starlight replied defensively. “And I’m still right! It’s wasting our time!”

 Mewtwo showed no signs of stopping; minimal indication of fatigue, still incensed, and still raring to fight. Its paws clenched and unclenched as it spread its feet, tail whipping back and forth. They could barely see its bared teeth, and a low growl was starting to trickle out of its throat.

 Then, a new voice spoke; a drawl with a slight hint of annoyance.

 “Eh? You aren’t the Precure I’m used to seein’.”

 The voice belonged to a tall, lanky man sauntering out of the shadows; he had an unmistakable pompadour, and tinges of a greaser aesthetic. Playing with a toothpick in his mouth, he sized up the group.

 “Who in the…?” Starlight trailed off, then glanced to Mewtwo to check its reaction. It had tensed even further, shoulders hunched and head down, tail still whipping about and occasionally striking the ground, kicking up dirt.

 You. You’re one of them.

 With a flick of the wrist, a comb emerged from the man’s jacket, and he tended to his pompadour. “Name’s Malevo. And this is my turf, by order of Lord Tumult. I was gatherin’ nega-energy in this here mountain, and I saw someone smashed my precious Nega-Onix into the rock face…then when I came back to wake it up, someone had drained its nega-energy! Last I heard, my three normal Precure birdbrains weren’t anywhere nearby—thanks, social media—which means you chicks must be the culprits!”

 You’re one of the humans who has been cursing pokemon! Mewtwo hurled a Shadow Ball in its fury, only for Malevo to make a swiping motion with his comb, dissipating it.

 “Nice try, pal,” Malevo responded, while Mewtwo stared back in shock, “I’m not some normal human from this world, so don’t lump me in with them! Now, to figure out what to do with you Precure brats…” Malevo’s lips spread into a sick smile. “Got it!”

 Mewtwo was still enraged. As it prepared to strike again, Malevo raised a hand to reveal a nega-ring under his sleeve.

 “That’s the same thing Ataxia has!” Starlight cried.

 “You know her? Small world. Then you know what this does!”

 Wish immediately put two and two together. “No!” she squealed, running toward Mewtwo in vain. Malevo snapped his fingers, pointing at Mewtwo as a dark circle formed beneath it, trapping it in place as it immediately began to thrash around inside.

 “Nega-evolution!” Malevo struck a pose, putting a hand and spread fingers to his forehead. “Show your stuff!”

 Mewtwo clutched at its chest, doubling over as shadows overtook it; its eyes shot toward Wish, staring back at her; she knew the look of fear. It opened its mouth, and an enraged, inhuman trumpeting roar came forth as it was fully obscured by shadows. The shape grew and grew, until a massive, clawed paw slammed down before the Precure.

 What was once Mewtwo was now on all fours; bony, spiked, jagged in appearance, a sickly off-white, fangs emerging from its mouth. It was easily the size of a semi truck now, and was emanating nega-energy. It was its core self; a wild animal, confused, afraid, and ready to fight.

 “Oh, baby!” Malevo cheered. “Look at you! Your nega-energy will feed Dys for weeks! Now, show—“

 Nega-Mewtwo swung a paw, smashing into Malevo, sending him skyward and through the ceiling, as he howled in terror and pain.

 “Can’t say I feel bad for him,” Starlight remarked as she watched.

 “Feel bad for us!” Wish replied. Nega-Mewtwo turned its attention toward them, snarling. Wish stared back, shaking. The true Mewtwo was sealed within that beast…all its negative feelings and energy had been turned into this wicked creature.  Wish’s heart ached, despite her fear of both the original and its monster form.

[elsewhereuniversity]

Weapons

Specs wasn’t really an engineer. Their friends took him to be more of the theoretical sort, someone who could crunch numbers but was never seen in the lab for more than the minimum amount of time. He could be relied on for knowledge, but anyone who’d been in group projects with him had heard he preferred working with people, and that splitting work with him and expecting it done was a lot less productive than sitting him down in a work space on campus and bouncing the work between you.

His flatmates knew he wasn’t in the flat that much, and assumed he spent the rest of the time with societies and work. If anyone had checked, they would have noted that there was always a two hour gap in his schedule, but since he seemed to be perfectly ordinary (or as ordinary as the majority of EU student body were, at least) no one paid it much attention.

The shop students knew him as the guy who’d borrow their time to get little things done on their machines. A pinch of solder and iron to fix a wire, a small bit of the forge to cast some metal bits in the unused space of a bigger project. The chemistry students knew him as the guy who’d drop liquids in the liquid waste bin. Never more than a glass, a good way of disposing something you didn’t want to drink or keep nearby. The physics students knew him as the guy who’d request a few minutes with some of their meters. Strain gauges were the most common, but voltmeters and pressure gauges were close behind.

He always had an air of detached interest whenever gossip about the Gentry passed around the lecture halls. It was always another student who’d had a run in with a shadowy figure down by the lot, or had met Jimothy to trade beads, or had carefully not looked too closely at their flatmate recently.

Specs remained a guy with a few good friends who was a nice enough person to chat to throughout his first year. Then, in his second year, his sister came to EU.

Frizz was a drama student, eccentric, always ready with a smile and with a temper that was righteous in its fury. She wrote her own plays, sang her own little songs and drew in her spare time. She and her brother met up every other day for a quick hug, her drama friends quickly becoming acquainted with the smaller group of second year chem eng students who accompanied the elder sibling. When Frizz began dating, in as quietly dramatic a fashion as always, her brother was the one who looked her partner in the eye and stared for half a minute before calmly patting them on the shoulder and giving them a grin when he felt them shaking.

It was only a few months before Frizz had racked up a substantial number of encounters with the Fair Folk, as the liberal arts students tended to. One of Specs’ friends caught the occasional glimpse of worry beneath his usual friendly demeanor, but since Frizz had seemingly taken her brothers words of mild caution to heart she’d not come out of any of them the worse for wear.

Then, halfway through the year, Specs went backstage after a production had finished, he and the rest of the group of friends who’d come to support those of their number involved, to find Frizz’s partner running to him, terror in their eyes.

“They took Frizz!”

Specs face lost all emotion, and the rest of the group took a step back to give him space. A couple of them followed him as he left the theatre with a steadily quicker stride, and lost him as he began sprinting out into the grounds. They hoped he would be alright, knowing that the loss of a sibling would be heartbreaking. One or two of them resolved to go to his flat to comfort him the next day.

What they didn’t expect the next day was for Specs to be sitting behind a table on one of the main university paths with a selection of gadgets and items in front of him and a big digital timer counting down.

The first person to approach him was met with a fake, friendly smile and asked if they’d like a free sample. When they asked him what on earth he was doing, he took a yo-yo from the table in explanation.

“I’m starting off with the smallest stuff. Wholly iron and steel, six metres long wire string. Get it swinging at two and I guess you could even wrap someone up in it. Time goes on, I’ll start getting rid of the bigger stuff I’ve got stashed around. There’s a spray paint system I worked on the other day, it’s got a lovely red finish at up to twenty metres. I put some red iron-based paint in it, easily replaceable.”

Of course, most people steered clear of his stall, afraid of angering the Fair Folk, but there was always someone desperate, and soon he’d given out about thirty of the smaller things. There were several people who observed a tall man, lines of red rising on his skin in a manner that suggested something had coiled round him, stride over to the table.

“You will stop,” he said in a sibilant, angry tone.

“Huh?” came Specs disinterested reply. “Oh, you’re right, two hours have gone past and still my sister hasn’t turned up. Time to move on to the next batch.”

The man seemed to grow taller, hands becoming more pointed. Specs pulled a hula hoop from the stand and tossed it over the man’s head, breaking a catch and allowing a spool of chicken wire to spring from within, encircling his interrogator. After a couple of minutes, he pulled the chicken wire down, taking a small water pistol from the table instead. The tall man glared and retreated.

After half a day, Specs was seen walking to several iron electric boxes and pulling out things stashed within, before returning to the stand to place his unearthed stash on display. Unlike the steadily grander toys he’d been selling, these things didn’t hide what they were made for. An ugly looking thing with springs held several iron bolas. A mass of batteries were strapped to a couple of electromagnets with a supply of iron filings to feed between the two. Swimming goggles with lenses and rocks. Flashlights with reticules and chemical warning labels. Ball bearings and a hand cranked handheld self reloading catapult.

For those who were desperate, the rumours that had spread around campus were enough to bring them in. Each piece of equipment was explained, warnings about not firing this through a glass window, it could put someone’s eye out, that shouldn’t be aimed at the legs in case it trips someone up, this should be handled with a paint mask and with no-one in the immediate vicinity.

In the evening, as Specs handed out the last of the things he hadn’t been holding onto for himself, a group of assorted people with burn scars, pocks of red and faces in assorted angry expressions that looked near inhuman came towards him.

“You’ve made a lot of people angry.”

“They can join the club. I still haven’t seen my sister.”

“You have no more threats to hand out. You will be sorry.”

“Oh? No, I’ve got a whole wardrobe full of these things. Then there’s the emergency stashes I made, just in case. Then the stuff I’ve left half finished. And, of course, I might start handing out copies of my designs, I had a bunch of people interested in what I offered today and I’m sure some of them would love to know how these things work, try a hand at making their own-”

“You wouldn’t dare.”

“Wouldn’t I? I don’t see what the problem is. I’m just putting my frustration into something productive. If only my sister were here to calm me down…”

The next day a girl with Frizz’s face approached the stall. She left when Specs offered her a wire Chinese finger trap to try out.

It was midday when Frizz herself appeared, wandering drunkenly over to Specs stall and hugging him as though she’d never let go. Specs brushed her hair with a hand covered in iron rings, murmuring in her ear. He kept one arm around her as he packed up the stall, hefting the duffel bag and stall with difficulty with one hand before the siblings’ friends arrived from class to help.

That evening, in Specs flat, with Frizz lying exhausted on the couch in the kitchen, one of his friends quietly asked why he’d had all that stuff prepared. In the course of one and a half days he’d handed out enough anti-fae tools for a small mob, and he’d been hinting he had even more. One of Frizz’s friends, the one who never wore iron and smiled all the time, looked slightly scared as she asked why he hadn’t used it.

“My family have always been creative,” he said. “You can see my sister’s talent. My dad paints, my mum sings. I imagine things. And some of those things are not very nice.”

He looked at his hands. After two days of being either clenched or solid as a rock, they were shaking now.

“It was fun to imagine solutions to a problem I’d never faced. To make something cheap, effective and that I’d never need to use, but should have around just in case. Heck, I even said to myself that it was alright to design bigger, because it wasn’t as if it’d be used on anyone nice.”

He began to cry. His voice went very, very quiet.

“I don’t want to be known for weapons.”

x

[aurlyn]

Dragon Age (Cocktails and Cheese) / Supernatural Crossover

Chapter 6

A Conversation Between an ex-Templar and an Angel

Cullen sat back enjoying his beer while Alistair showed off behind the bar. Dean and Jo were getting the hang of juggling bottles, which allowed for Alistair to get a little fancier with his showing off. True to his word, he kept his feet off the bar, but the large space behind it allowed for some of his more elaborate backflips, twirls, and aerials while flipping bottles and bouncing various receptacles off his elbows.

He was definitely in his element.

Dean and Jo looked like they were having a great time. His companion at the table, however, appeared to be barely containing his displeasure with their playfulness. When Dean dropped yet another bottle, Alistair placed his hands on Dean’s hips to reposition his stance, then guided him into another toss, which he landed perfectly to cheers and high fives all around. To Cullen, this was a natural training tactic: redirect the stance and the sword work would follow. Castiel, however, seemed to have a different opinion on the matter.

He looked ready to kill .

His furrowed brow and pursed lips spoke volumes of how he felt about someone else putting their hands on his husband. With a gentle touch on Castiel’s wrist, Cullen brought his attention back to the table. After a tense moment, where he swore that Castiel’s eyes glowed blue, he smiled kindly and lifted his beer in a silent salute. Removing his hand from Castiel’s wrist, they both drank, eyes locked together, a silent challenge.

“Alistair and I are not a threat to you or your husband,” Cullen began. “He is naturally friendly and his humor tends to come off as flirty, but I can assure you that he and I do not waver from each other.”

Another cheer from the bar drew their attention; Dean was smiling over at Castiel , proudly waving the bottles in his hands.

Cullen continued, “Seeing Dean with you —y ou have to know how much you mean to him.”

Castiel frowned at him. “How do you—?”

“I’m a detective,” Cullen interjected, simply. “Observing people is what I do. I also get it. I’d be lying if I said that I’ve never felt jealous over how easily Alistair charms people.”

“But, how do you deal with it?” Castiel asked, hesitantly.

Cullen shrugged. “Honestly? Lots of really amazing sex!”

Castiel sputtered, “Really?”

“Really.” Cullen laughed. “It helps to know that when he closes the bar, he comes home to me and never lets me forget how much he loves me. So, I do my best to put my faith in us.” He grinned. “I see the way that you and Dean look at each other too… there’s something pure and perfect in that kind of love. It radiates off you both. You must have been through a lot to look at each other that way.”

Castiel looked into his beer with a small quirk to his mouth. “I pulled him out of hell.”

Cullen gaped at Castiel. “What? Like… literally ?”

He nodded. “My garrison was sent to retrieve ‘the righteous man’ from Hell. I was the first one to him and the only one to make it out alive.” He sighed sadly. “Dean was so broken when I found him. It’s not my place to tell you all the details, but suffice it to say, repairing him was no easy task. Going through that with him… well, it created a profound bond between us.” He picked at the paper on his beer with a sheepish smile.

“Wow,” Cullen muttered. “That’s just… I can’t even imagine. Have you been together ever since?”

Castiel shook his head. “It took us several years to finally admit our feelings for each other. As his brother is so fond of saying, we had to pull our heads out of our asses before we could see what was right in front of us. But, once we got past that rather large hurdle, there was no denying it. Dean…” Castiel looked longingly over to his husband. “Dean is my everything. I fell for him; not just in love—though there is that too. I gave up everything for him: the heavenly host, my wings; I even became human, for a time. My father had other plans for me though, and eventually gave me back my wings and angelic grace as a wedding present.”

“Your union was blessed by The Maker himself, and you’re still worried about someone else stealing your husband away?”

“I didn’t say my feelings were logical. In fact, there are many things that still don’t make sense to me. I’m doing my best to learn, though. There’s just so much that I don’t understand. Thankfully, Dean is a very patient man.”

“So, you really are a full fledged angel.” Cullen’s voice was full of awe. “Man, I just… wow. I’m sorry; I’m not sure what else I can say to that.”

Castiel nodded. “We’ve had Templars here on earth before—a long time ago—but they were just warriors fighting for the church. Regular men and women getting their hands dirty in the name of my father.” He scoffed, “As if my father would weigh in on those petty squabbles. He designed his children to have free-will, to make mistakes and learn from them. He never intended to micromanage everything.” He squinted at Cullen. “You’re not like they were, though. Your light shines almost as brightly as Dean’s, which makes me think that you’re more than just a simple warrior of God.”

Cullen nodded. “Templars, where I’m from, can be more than that, though we do have simple warriors of the Maker too. I’m what we call an awakened Templar. I can see things that the average person can’t. Supernatural phenomena, dark spawn, magic—”

“Not everyone can see these things where you are from?”

“No. I guess you could say that our world has two realities. There are regular humans leading normal, everyday lives. A small percentage of us have what we call the sight, we can see what the average person cannot. Of those who are aware, there are some that also have extra abilities. Alistair, for example, is faster and stronger than the average person. He needs to be to fight the things he fights. As a Warden, he is charged with protecting the world from things that come through little rifts in the veil. Warden’s fight darkspawn and demons, then clean up the area and weave stories so the average person doesn’t see the true horror that was there.”

“It sounds a little like being a Hunter here.” Castiel glanced quickly over to where Dean was carefully tossing bottles back and forth with Jo. “You said Alistair was faster and stronger, but we saw him seal the portal too…”

Cullen nodded. “As a guardian of the veil, Alistair can both open and close those tears. He can also sense the creatures that come through.”

“You mean the demons?”

“Demons and darkspawn are very different. The corpses on the ground near where we came through, those were darkspawn. They are fairly common where we’re from—at least, to those who can see them . ”

“They are fairly new to this world. Angels and Demons—we’ve been fighting for years; the battle between heaven and hell is as old as time. There are other supernatural creatures here as well: vampires, werewolves, ghouls, witches, and fae; these are all things we fight on a weekly basis. It’s only been the last few months that this new species has come into play. The first tear appeared the day my son was born.”

“Some of those creatures are familiar to me, but not others. Wait… you have a son?”

“Dean and I have taken in two children as our own. Claire shares my DNA, but lost both of her parents. She is a young adult now and shares time between our home in Lebanon, Kansas and here in Sioux Falls with her other guardian, Jody. Jack is a product of my brother, Lucifer, and a human woman named Kelly, who died in childbirth. I was there with his mother throughout her pregnancy and developed a bond with Jack, in utero. Unfortunately, Lucifer killed me before I could meet him on the day he was born and I--”

“Wait! You died!!?”

“A few times now, actually. It’s not pleasant; I don’t recommend it,” he deadpanned then smirked. “I’m… much better now.”

“I can see that.” Cullen chuckled. “You said something about your son being born correlating to the new creatures you’ve been seeing?”

“Like I said, Jack is a product of my brother, an archangel, and a human. He is a nephilim and is quite powerful.”

“A nephilim… is that dangerous?”

“They have the potential to be, but Jack isn’t… Jack was lucky to be with my husband and his brother when he was born. They are both good men with good hearts. They have taught me what it means to be a good man. To be a good human. I do my best, but even Angels falter in our paths sometime.” He chuckled to himself. “But Jack, he is pure and beautiful and not-perfect. He chooses free will over what his ‘destiny’ is supposed to be. I couldn’t be happier to call him my son.”

“You said that the darkspawn have only been coming through for the last six months or so… so Jack is just a baby?”

“Well, no… I mean, he should be, but, his growth was accelerated by necessity. It was too dangerous for him to be a baby for long, so he currently looks to be around eighteen or so.”

“How is that possible?”

“Apparently his powers have built-in self preservation mechanisms. When I died, he knew that he needed to be able to protect himself. Being an infant would have left him too vulnerable, so after he was born, he aged rapidly. When Dean and Sam found him, shortly after he was born, Jack already appeared to be teenager. He was frightened and alone. It was their love and support that kept my family together when they thought I was gone forever.” Castiel hung his head, sadly. “From what I’ve been told, it nearly broke Dean. He had a hard time bonding with Jack at first, but Sam was there and stepped in.” Castiel smiled wistfully. “I really am blessed with the best family.”

Cullen returned the smile. “I can see that. So, where is everyone now?”

“Sam is with my brother Gabriel, back at home. They’re currently trying to find a way for us to open our own portal for a rescue mission. Claire is with a local family of misfit hunters here in Sioux Falls. She recently lost someone very special to her and is having a hard time adjusting. Jack is… well, we hope that Jack is with my mother-in-law, Mary. He was trying to rescue her from another world, but he doesn’t have complete control of his powers yet and got separated from the rest of the group. We theorize that it’s his lack of control that might be causing all of these current rifts, especially if he’s trying to get home to us.”

“If there’s some way for us to identify where they are, maybe Alistair can help to get you there and bring them home again,” Cullen supplied.

“That is my hope. We’re not sure how to do that, though. There are infinite worlds and no way yet of showing you which way to go. In the meantime, we’ve been working overtime trying to figure out how to contain all of these rifts while trying to figure out how to open our own so we can go in and retrieve Mom and Jack.” He slumped over his beer with a long sigh. “I’m sorry, it’s just… we’re all a little exhausted and overwhelmed. You two have come at the most opportune time for us. I know you have your own troubles that you’re facing back home, but hopefully, we’ll be able to work together so I can get my family back together again.”

“Castiel, if it is within our power, we will do our best to assist you. You have my word.”

With a grateful nod, he turned his gaze back to the cheering crowd at the bar. “Thank you, Cullen. You don’t know what that means to me.” He paused a moment, then added, “and… thank you for the other advice as well. Like I said, some of these human emotions tend to get the better of me. At least now I may have a way of… working through some of the less desirable ones.” With a smirk, he drained the rest of his beer.