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punkpoemprose · 4 years ago

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Naked Soul: Chapter 16- High Hopes [December 8th]

Universe: Modern AU (Stripper AU) Rating: T (Teen & Up) Length: 3972 Words

A/N: This dear readers, is the first multichapter fic I’ve finished in years. Thanks @epbaker who reminded me multiple times recently that I said this advent was going to be all about getting things done instead of starting new projects, haha.

The unofficial title of the whole series, given the panic at the disco chapter titles, is now “Hey Look Ma I Made It”. I can’t believe that I’ve been writing this fic since 2015! Wild! For those unfamiliar this fic can be a little bit of a trainwreck because I started writing it when I was (18? 19?) and took some major liberties on the timeline, amount of research done, etc. Someday, now that it’s done, I’ll come back to it and do some editing and rewrites to make it more cohesive and a little less 2015-y. Thanks to everyone who has been reading this fic through its many long hiatuses!

Catch up here: [Naked Soul Masterpost]

Monday morning came and went in almost exhaustingly normal fashion. Anna woke up as early as she physically could for class and was, of course, still running behind. Kristoff had made her eggs and toast for breakfast and she’d only managed to get out the door in time to drive to class because he’d had the good sense to make her pack her school bag the night before.

She stretched as she walked back to her car after her last class of the day got out. She still had two hours of work to put in at the studio, preparing her ballet class for their upcoming recital, but she was thinking past that and to the evening. Elsa was back home again and while Anna knew that her sister wasn’t going to kiss and tell, she was looking forward to pestering her into telling her how her date with Della went. They were going to make dinner together while Kristoff was out of the house doing some paperwork with Sven and Anna couldn’t deny the fact that she was glad to have the distraction from her thoughts.

Things had been going well, perhaps maybe even too well. Anna hadn’t felt so good in a very long time. She wasn’t, as far as anyone could tell, being stalked anymore, and while the Westergaard brothers were still doing their best to destroy any claim she and her sister had to the business their parents built, Anna was being reasonably left out of it. She hadn’t heard anything from the PI they hired let alone any of the red headed bastards. Work and school were going well, and her relationship with her sister and with Kristoff were both positive in more ways than she could ever imagine any relationship could be. It was a wonderful feeling, knowing that things were going to be alright no matter what happened that was out of her control. She was, however, despite all the good, uncomfortable in her moments alone. There was always fear clawing on the edge of her mind, a part of her waiting for the other shoe to drop.

When she sat in her car and her phone rang, she jumped about a foot. No one really called her.

Kristoff and Elsa did from time to time, but they were more likely to text, so as she riffled through her bag searching for it, she couldn’t help but wonder if she was about to learn something about self-fulfilling prophecies.

When she managed to pull the phone from her bag, she picked up without looking at the number. If it was important, she didn’t want it to go to voicemail, and if it wasn’t, she figured it was easy enough to hit the end call button.

“Hello?”

“Ms. Arendelle?” An unfamiliar voice on the other end of the line addressed her formally, instantly making her think that she’d picked up a spam call.

“Speaking,” she said anyway.

If a spam call was what the universe was throwing at her today, she could take it. She always did feel a little bad for the college kids they hired for call centers. She had been paying her way through school by getting naked and she still thought she had a better job than telemarketing.

“Hello, this is Marta calling from Williamson and Associates. I’m calling today to inform you that there’s been some recent progress in your… situation that requires your attention. Would you be able to come into the office in the next half hour to discuss?”

She froze on the spot. Lawyers. So much for hoping for a spam call.

“I think you might be calling the wrong sister. Elsa handles all the legal and business matters. I could give you her number if you need, but you should have it on file?”

“We’ve already called the other Ms. Arendelle. She is on her way in now, however she has no control over your trust and the associated control you have in Arendelle Enterprises, and for that reason we’ll really need you here to sign some paperwork and make your decisions.”

Anna sighed and fell back into the driver’s seat. Making decisions seemed like the last thing she wanted to do, and yet, if they were at the decision making process it meant that there was something like an end in sight, and she’d take it no matter what it was. She was ready to close the chapter of her life that required police and lawyers and dealing with the Westergaards if she could help it.

“Yeah, I can do that.”

When the woman on the other end was satisfied, Anna hung up the phone and tossed it into her bag before starting her car and doing her best to focus on the road instead of the million different scenarios playing out in her head about what she’d find at that office.

The other shoe had, in fact dropped, but she wasn’t sure if it was about to land sole up or down. She took comfort in the fact that no matter what she was about to learn, she knew that everything would be okay. Elsa was feeling better than she had in years, they were safe, and she had Kristoff. She’d never dreamed of being loved the way he loved her.

***

Kristoff smiled when he scooped Anna up into his arms. She’d passed out on the couch at some point after dinner and while he wasn’t certain of all the details, he knew that she’d had a long day. Elsa had already gone off to bed by the time he’d gotten home, so he hadn’t been able to ask either of them how their meeting with their lawyers had gone. He had a rough idea, Anna had sent him a text promising to fill him in when he got home, but he wasn’t about to wake her up to ask, not when she looked so peaceful.

He’d had a long day too, but it hadn’t been any surprise to him. He and Sven had been working on business paperwork, officially naming it, applying for the bank loans they needed to get started, doing all the sort of work that they had to do when they started their ice business, but somehow twice as tiresome. They’d be able to start looking for jobs soon, to start hiring, to start picking up equipment. They were starting small, working on repairs and additions more than new construction, but he was happy to have the possibility of really and truly being his own boss.

It meant good things would come, that he could make things even more stable for himself financially and make his own hours, and hopefully, find himself in a better position to ask Anna to spend the rest of her life with him. He could already imagine a bigger house, closer to his family, and little feet running across the floor, if of course, Anna wanted that too.

Her head lolled against his chest a bit as they walked. She was out, and he couldn’t help but smile as he looked down at her. They’d been on quite a journey together since meeting. He still couldn’t believe that he had Sven to thank for that, but he was glad that he’d dragged him out to a strip club so many months ago, and the he now, like everyone else in Kristoff’s life, had been won over by Anna’s charm. His best friend, and well as his parents, were already asking when exactly he was planning to pop the question, as if he and Anna had been together for years instead of months.

He was already thinking the same thing though. He loved her. He loved her for her humor and her smiles and her resilience. He’d never met anyone stronger than her, and while she’d made it seem like he’d been helping her since they’d met, she’d really been the one holding him up, helping him to believe that good things could happen and that the world wasn’t as dark as it sometimes seemed.

He felt her stir when he bumped the bedroom door open, and he knew it was from the squealing creak it made whenever it was opened or shut. He wanted to tackle some home repair, and he thought, with a chuckle, that he may need to be his own first customer.

Sven would demand double pay.

“Did I fall asleep?” she mumbled, and even in the dim light of the hall, he could see her bleary eyes, half open, staring up at him.

He felt bad for interrupting her peaceful sleep, but took the opportunity, now that she was at least a little bit awake, to duck down and press a kiss to her forehead.

“Yeah baby, you did. I was just bringing you to bed.”

She smiled softly and then reached up a hand, squeezing his arm lightly.

“You’re too good to me.”

“Not possible,” he replied, “Nothing would be too good for you. If I could give you the world it still wouldn’t be enough.”

She shook her head, but her smile was bright as she woke a bit more and he crossed the room, knocking the door back closed with its telltale squeak, and plunging them into darkness for only a moment until he bumped the rocker switch on the wall, knowing that now that she was up, they probably wouldn’t be sleeping.

“You’re a goof,” she said, “And I’d tell the whole world that it could hit the bricks, because all I need is you.”

He couldn’t help but give her a light squeeze before setting her onto the bed, but when he went to step away, she was still gripping his arm.

“Stay?”

She was giving him her best puppy dog eyes, and he knew that he was done with work for the evening. Once Anna had him in bed, there would be no getting out of it until he bargained with her to let him go brush his teeth.

He gestured for her to scoot over a bit then followed her onto the bed, not fighting it when she immediately wrapped her arms around him and pulled him in close. She was forever trying to cover him with her, and despite the size difference between them, she did a pretty good job.

“Do you want to hear about my day?” she asked, the trepidation in her voice evident despite the confident way she was holding onto him, “Or you could tell me about yours?”

He wrapped his arms around her in return, pulling her up onto him a bit more until her head was rested atop his chest.

“I’m not going to make you tell me about it if you don’t want to,” he replied.

He knew, of course, that she would tell him whenever she was ready. He trusted her to know her boundaries with him, to listen and to ask and to take what she gave him when she gave it. He tried not to pry or push unless he needed to, and even then, he always left it up to her discretion.

“My day was terribly dry and boring. Paperwork is horrible. I’d rather be back in high school history class than look at another bank document, and unless you were luckier than I was, high school history is the most boring and dry thing I think anyone can ever experience in their lives.”

“Oof,” she replied, with a sort of half laugh that made him feel more comfortable, “I’m glad my meetings weren’t as boring as yours were then. I got a call to go to the lawyers office after classes today, and after I met Elsa there, we discussed our settlement from the company and how we’d be receiving our trusts and so on and so forth. It wasn’t exactly riveting stuff, but I think everything…”

She trailed off and then looked up at him, turning her head and pushing off him so that she could make eye contact as she said it.

“I think it’s finally over Kris. I think… I think everything is going to be okay.”

He saw the tears welling in her eyes and swept his thumb across her cheek as they fell. He wanted to tell her that everything would have been alright either way, because he was going to make sure they were, but right now that didn’t matter. She was tired, and happy, and he was going to hold her through it as the weight lifted from her shoulders.

She told him about how apparently their PI “friend” had come through, how he’d produced evidence of blackmail and worse to her and Elsa’s lawyers that they’d been able to use as leverage. The rest of the board wasn’t fully aware of what was going on, but there was anarchy in the company structure nevertheless. They had grounds to sue the Westergaard family for a host of legal jargon terms Kristoff didn’t know well enough to comment on, but amongst them were defamation and embezzlement, which he had a fair enough understanding of to know that Anna and Elsa had indeed won the war.

“So they’re being forced to step down from the board, the company has to restructure and Elsa and I have the option to have the company buy us out. We even get to keep the Arendelle Industries name, so it’s going to be known as AI now and whatever happens after this, we get the cash value of our parents stake in the company, plus our trusts, and if the business faces any repercussions from what happened, our family name won’t be attached anymore. I honestly still can’t believe it.”

She started talking numbers, and he felt like he had all the wind knocked out of him. He prided himself on being at least decent at math, after all his work required it, but he wasn’t sure if he could count that high.

“It’s not about the money though,” she said quietly, ducking back down to cuddle closer to his side, “It’s nice to know it’s there and that I can pay for college and everything. But mostly I’m just glad it’s over now. I’m never going to have to see a Westergaard again for the rest of my life, Elsa won’t have to worry about the business anymore, and I can work at the studio, and…”

The pause was a nervous one, as if she was worried about what she had to say next.

“And I have you, and that’s all I think I need.”

He shifted, pulled her atop him more fully, and kissed her.

***

He was thoroughly exhausted, his back ached, he was pretty sure he was missing skin on his thigh, and when he glanced to his right, his girlfriend was, rather elegantly, leaning back and spinning five feet off the floor.

“How do you even do that?”

He could hear Della, and his mother laughing up a storm. He couldn’t even look over at them because he knew that they must be rolling on the floor.

“You’ve watched me enough,” she said, with a giggle as the music continued to play and she spun around on beat, “I thought you’d have it no problem.”

“She’s really an excellent teacher,” Elsa said from behind them, doubtlessly staring right at Della when she said it.

She was getting better and better at the teasing the longer she spent around his family. He couldn’t necessarily say he enjoyed it being directed at him, but he also was pleased by the fact that she was at least opening up more and more overtime.

“Yes,” Della replied, “It’s really just my brother. No fault of hers that he can’t follow directions.”

He thought for a moment about walking away from the pole to slug his sister, but his mom was there and she may still, very well, pull them apart with one hand each and make them do chores for the rest of the evening. It didn’t matter that they were adults. The woman was strong enough, and serious enough to have them both quivering in their boots in no time flat.

“Pay her no mind Kristoff, you’re doing great baby.”

He felt his whole face go red. He still wasn’t sure why he’d agreed to any of this.

Since Anna had started teaching “aerial dance” at the studio, Della and even more terrifyingly, his mother, had been attending. While they both had told him that it was “a good work out” he had not wanted to know what they were learning.

It had been more of a joke than a real Birthday gift when he’d open the card from his sister that included a three-session gift certificate to work with Anna. His options had been, of course, ballet, fan dance, or aerial dance, and while he wasn’t particularly against any of the options, he thought doing anything with Anna would be fun, he did think that as a guy who did a lot of heavy lifting, climbing up a pole wouldn’t be particularly difficult.

He’d been very wrong.

Anna slid back down the pole, showing more technique than seduction in her motions. She crossed the floor to turn off the music and to shoot him a somewhat apologetic smile. He might be in pain, but he smiled back because even with his failures and his mother, sister, and Elsa giggling at him, he was enjoying himself.

If there was one thing that he appreciated, more than anything else about her teaching classes, it was that she was dancing because she loved it. She wasn’t dancing to please anyone when she was at the studio, she was showing others how to do something that made her feel good. Sometimes she would still dance for him, alone in the comfort of their bedroom and that too was, in a way, for her.

He knew that while the way they met may not have been the way she would have chosen, she sometimes had days and nights where she got a little nostalgic for his eyes on her like that. He always gave it to her, because as soon as she started moving like that, he couldn’t tear his eyes away, even if he wanted to. He didn’t think even with a thousand lessons from her, he could ever reciprocate quite as well. He did appreciate her laughs though when he’d give her a little shimmy.

“Okay peanut gallery,” Anna commanded in the sweet way that only she could, “I do believe that certificate was for three private lessons. You’ve had your fun, now I’d like some alone time with my student.”

Amongst various grumblings and jokes, between Anna and his mother’s chiding, the room was emptied of everyone but the two of them. While they were walking out he walked over to where he’d left his workout bag, and slipped something from within it to the pocket of his shorts.

“Sorry sweetheart,” she said, crossing the room and wrapping her arms around his waist, pillowing her head against him, “I had to let them have their fun with you.”

He chuckled. They certainly had had their fun.

“I wanted them here,” he replied, “they deserved a little laugh at my expense, I guess. Plus, I wanted at least Elsa around…”

He reached back into his pocket and retrieved the little box he’d put there, feeling the velvetiness of it under his fingers and pulling it out. Months had passed since everything was straightened out with her family business, and his own new construction business, and with it having been over a year since they met, the timing just felt right.

He had to lean away from her to kneel and her confusion, turned surprise was a look that he hoped he would never forget.

“Are you?”

He hadn’t even opened the box yet, but there was a huge smile on her face, her voice full of shock like she couldn’t believe it.

“Yeah, I mean, we don’t have to right away,” he said flipping open the box, “You’ve still got school and work and… I just thought even if we didn’t have the wedding for a year or more I just want to be able to call you my fiancé. If that’s what you want.”

He flipped the box open. He’d taken Elsa and Sven with him shopping, and while it had been a hilariously strange day, they’d all agreed on a ring they felt was both something that made them think of Anna, and something they thought she’d love.

The stone was small, but the band was intricate, little leaves and vines settling around an inset diamond. He hadn’t wanted a ring that had much of a profile because he wanted her to be able to wear it when she was dancing without it catching on anything. It was a good choice, he thought, looking from it to her face and letting his nerves be comforted by her grin.

“Yes, of course!”

She stooped down to his level, “Of course I want to marry you Kristoff. There’s nothing I’ve ever wanted more!”

He moved to kiss her, but she was already surging forward to kiss him, her fingers tangling into his hair, sweaty as it was, and her lips opening to his almost immediately. The kiss was deep and lingering and as it broke, she was smiling brighter than the sun.

He slid the ring onto her finger and as they stood, he gave her an apologetic look and turned towards the door.

“You can come back in now.”

He knew that his sister at least, if not all three must have had an ear to the door and a hand on the handle.

“My baby is going to get married! I never thought I’d live to see the day.”

Anna laughed as they were overtaken by the love of the three women they called family. The rest of Kristoff’s siblings and his father would hear the news soon enough, having already known his plan. He could only imagine the chaos Anna would find when she walked through the door to see them.

The hug she gave him and the kiss on his cheek though, told him that she was ready for it.

“I don’t think I could have ever imagined being this happy,” she said, looking between him and the assemblage, “I’m so lucky to have you.”

He shook his head, “That’s my line.”

***

They were allowed only an hour alone when they got back home. There would be a family dinner at his parents place to get to, and they both needed to shower, but neither of them were much interested in getting ready.

“Would it be rude to be late for dinner?” Anna asked, tugging his shirt off when the front door closed behind them.

“What was rude was the assumption we wouldn’t have other things to do,” he offered with a laugh, his hands busying themselves with unbuttoning her jeans, “They’ll deal.”

Once her pants and his shirt were off, she jumped up onto him, his hands catching her rear and holding her up on him as her mouth went to his.

“Good, because I’m going to need at least a full hour with you. Maybe two. We never did get that private lesson in.”

He groaned as her hands wandered his back and her mouth traveled from his lips to his neck and licked and nipped.

“I’m eager to learn.”

She laughed, “You’re already a professional, but we’ll see if I can show you something new.”

His eyes grew wide at that, and he nearly tripped, with her warm laugh in his ears and her hands and mouth on his skin, rushing to their bedroom.

#kristannaadvent2020 #kristanna #kristanna fanfiction #frozen fanfiction #I can't tag it with any of the usual tags if I want it to come up in searches which is wild #I was writing this before tumblr became catholic #lol

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kieraswriting · 4 years ago

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Coffin Chapter Thirty-One

Masterpost

The messages came flooding in. Virgil didn’t even have to write anything else of his own for a while. It seemed that with an outlet for it there were a number of people with stories to tell. He just took the messages and posted them across all the platforms, shocked at the views and follows he was getting so quickly.

Of course, as the day went on, the ratio of hate to stories kept growing, and Virgil grimaced going through the inboxes.

And then his pages were reported, and shut down suddenly.

Virgil swallowed heavily. Was it really over? Just like that?

He called Logan.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Logan.”

“Ahh, Virgil. How is everything going? I was about to look.”

“Not… not so great. It was really good for a while, I got nearly five hundred followers and it’s just been a morning, but then I got reported and now I can’t do anything anymore.”

“Oh. No, I anticipated this possibility. I’ll make you new accounts. You may have to restart a few times, but you certainly can continue with this.”

Virgil let out a sigh, the weight of failure mostly leaving him. “Thank you.”

“You’re very welcome. It will take me perhaps an hour to create the new accounts. In the meantime, perhaps you would consider making some photographic or video content.”

“Like what?”

There was an awkward pause. “If you feel up to it, I believe pictures of your scars, or a video in which you describe how you came to have them might be particularly moving.”

Virgil's brain flashed images and sensations at him, making him a bit dizzy. “... yeah. Yeah, I can see that.”

“Virgil, if you are uncomfortable with the idea—“

“No, I can do it.” Virgil interrupted.

“Truly, I do not want to pressure you into something you would rather not do.”

Virgil smiled slightly, even though Logan wasn’t there to see it. “Thank you. I’ll just try. I’m sure if I take it too far Patton will stop me.”

“That seems reasonable. I’ll work on your new accounts, please call or text me if you need anything else.”

“I will, thanks. Bye.”

Even though he’d just told Logan that Patton would be sure to make him stop if he needed, he didn’t think he wanted Patton to help. At least not so directly. It was going to be hard enough, and if Patton was there and all teary he wasn’t sure he could make it.

So he went to find Roman.

Roman very quickly hid what had to be a knife again, as he had the log in front of him. “Did you need something, Tall, Dark, and Emo?”

Virgil fidgeted awkwardly. He didn’t want to bother Roman, really, he’d just probably need someone there, if only to hold the camera and be supportive.

“Um… I was going to make a video? Of— scars. And I was wondering if you’d want to help.”

“Yeah, of course I’ll help. Is this for the internet?”

Virgil nodded.

“Ok, then we’ll probably want to hang up sheets around you. If they can tell we’re in a cabin that wouldn’t be good.”

Virgil nodded again, letting out a long breath. It was nice not to have to just jump into it, even though he was the one deciding to actually make the video.

“Should I be covered in a sheet?” Virgil asked. “So they don’t recognize my clothes?”

Roman snorted. “No you’re— I see where you’re going with that, but if it looks like you’re naked under a sheet that would be an entirely different kind of video.”

Virgil realized the implications a second later, blushing hotly. It was strange, almost, blushing. He hadn’t been able to for so long— though it hadn’t even really been all that long. But it still felt a bit foreign to him now.

There was a little more sheet arranging before Virgil sat down and Roman sat in front of him, holding the phone.

“Alright, now we can clip out anything you want,” Roman said. “So if you say something, and you don’t like it, or if you stumble over your words, don’t worry, just do it over again and we can clip that bit out.”

Virgil nodded, his breathing speeding up as he got more and more nervous. “Ok… you can turn the camera on now.”

“It’s been on, Stormcloud. Just explain it like you’re explaining to me. Nothing fancy.”

Virgil nodded, clenching his jaw slightly. “Ok. Um…”

He rolled up his sleeves a little, showing off the marks the cuffs had left. “These are… from the coffin.” His voice was shaking and he wasn’t sure he could really do this.

“It’s alright. Why don’t you tell me what the coffin is?”

Virgil pressed his lips together, tears starting to well up. “It’s— it’s a coffin. But it has silver cuffs in it. It’s so— it’s cause if it was normal I could’ve— I might have been able to break out. But the silver hurts so bad— it’s to-to much to fight against and I—“ his voice broke and he stopped, tears now running down his face.

“Do you want to be done?” Roman asked, his voice soft and non-judgmental.

Virgil sniffed and nodded, rubbing at his face with his sleeves. “Sorry.”

“No, hey, you did just fine. That was very hard for you, and you did just fine.”

Virgil just nodded, not looking up.

“Do you want a hug?” Roman asked.

Virgil nodded again miserably, trying to stop from crying and failing dismally, especially when Roman wrapped him up and held him close.

There was footsteps, that quickened as they got closer, and then Patton was kneeling beside them, his hand rubbing soft circles on Virgil’s back. “Ohhh, baby, what happened?”

Virgil wasn’t sure that he liked being called baby, but he could recognize the attempt at comfort and glanced up at Roman, pleading with his eyes for Roman to tell it.

“We were trying to make a video explaining his scars,” Roman said simply.

“Ohhhhh,” Patton said, joining in the hug.

They let him go before the hug could become stifling, and Patton suggested that they do something like a card game for a while.

•^*^••

Thomas sighed heavily, glad that both Dee and Remus were off doing something and couldn’t hear him. He knew Dee was tired, and he was also tired. But he was torn. He wanted to help still, not just take a break, even though a large part of his body and mind was constantly begging him to just stop for a while.

And then his phone rang, startling him nearly out of his camping chair. He hadn’t expected to have service, but apparently he did.

“Hello?”

“Hi, Thomas!” Emile said cheerfully. “Just checking in to see how you’re doing.”

Thomas froze, his mouth already midway to saying ‘fine’. “To be honest, I’m really tired.”

“I imagine. You three had the most exhausting job.”

Thomas nodded, sighing. “Yeah. They’re out now doing part of it.”

“You’re doing a good job. Logan’s been tracking all your little distractions, and sometimes bigger distractions.” Emile chuckled. “No one’s gone near Virgil.”

“That’s good,” Thomas said.

“I think… though this would have to be discussed, that you can take it easier now. I’m sure Remy would clear out a house for you to stay in for a few weeks.”

“Thanks,” Thomas said. And he really was genuinely appreciative, but it just made him more aware that his own house was standing empty, and would stay that way. Bills unpaid. He would never be Thomas Sanders anymore, not officially, unless he wanted to be arrested not only for helping vampires but also for not paying all the things he was supposed to be.

“It’ll get better someday,” Emile said gently. “And we can hold out until then together.”

Thomas nodded, humming his agreement.

“Do you want me to just stay on the line for a while?”

“Yes,” Thomas said, surprised to find that his voice was wobbling slightly. “Can you just… talk about something? Something not this?”

“Sure I can. Have you ever heard of finger-knitting?”

Emile stayed on the phone, talking about his experiments with finger knitting for a solid half-hour until Dee and Remus got back. Thomas handed off the phone to Dee, who probably also needed a bit of a talk with someone that had it all together still.

“Hey, Remus.”

Remus peeked up immediately upon being given attention.

“Do you wanna try sparring? You’d have to go waaay easy on me, but—“

“That sounds awesome!” Remus said, tackling Thomas almost immediately.

Thomas fought to get out, and Remus was clearly having the time of his life, grinning wildly and pushing Thomas around. There was no holding back on Thomas’s end, growling and thrashing and hitting.

“Oh yeah, getting all the frustration out!” Remus crowed, not even bothering to dodge most of the time, just wrestling Thomas down and letting him fight his way back up.

Finally Thomas was done, and bone-tired. He dropped onto his sleeping bag despite it being only afternoon and fell into a dreamless sleep.

•^*^••

Emile had been on the phone for the last hour, which meant, very unfortunately, that Remy was watching over Logan’s shoulder the entire time he was setting up Virgil’s new accounts and then still while he edited the video and prepared it for posting.

“Poor kid,” Remy murmured.

That, at least, Logan could agree with, nodding slightly as he clipped the video down to the essential part and put a black bar in where Virgil’s head had dropped too low and part of his face could be seen.

“Will you want me and Dee and Remus to make these too?”

“Quite frankly, it is up to you,” Logan replied. “If you think your story would be helpful, and you are willing, then by all means please do.”

He posted the video around, carefully covering any tracks he may have left, and was not surprised to see it quickly gain traction. He considered himself to be reasonably skilled at creating ‘clickbait’ titles, and clearly that skill was paying off now.

And then came the comments. They seemed split, roughly a third expressing sympathy towards Virgil, and two thirds disbelief in the validity of the video, thinking it to be acting.

The video was spreading quickly, more quickly than Logan would’ve guessed.

Remy whistled lowly. “If I’d’ve known this was all it took I would’ve been famous.”

“The current climate is a large part of why, as well as the fact that I’ve classified this video as an ad, which gives it a further initial reach.”

Remy snorted. “Ad for what?”

Logan shrugged. “It doesn’t matter. Clicking the link merely leads to a webpage playing the video.”

“And you set all this up today?”

“Last night as well, but yes. I’m…” Logan found himself nearly blushing. “I’ve always been reasonably skilled with computers, more the internet aspect than the hardware, but I’ve never had much of an outlet for using that skill.”

“Damn, you with computers and Roman with his acting, being hunters really took a lot from you didn’t it?”

Logan was taken aback. “I… suppose it did. I hadn’t considered that.”

Remy slapped him on the back. “Well now you get that back. Oh! Maybe when all this settles you can help Roman get famous.”

Logan blinked, his mind whirring so fast he thought he might get dizzy. He could’ve. He could’ve this whole time. How had he never…? How had he seriously not considered that?

•^*^••

“Sir?”

Liam bristled. He’d asked not to be bothered. It was an extremely frustrating moment for him, as he’d finally followed the trail to a house, spending many resources, as it wasn’t a simple trail to follow, but it was the house that the vampire had lived in before they’d first captured it.

“What do you want?” He bit out.

“I’m sorry to bother you, sir. There’s a video, and I was asked to be sure you had seen it. It’s of a vampire?”

Liam growled low in his throat. “I swear, if this is another dead end!” He snatched the phone out of the man’s hand.

The vampire in the video was shaking and sniveling, but more importantly, the scars on its arms were very familiar to Liam. This was the one.

“Have this traced. Now!”

The man jumped into action, taking his phone back and running off with it.

He’d better have some actually useful information by tomorrow or he was going to explode.

#sanders sides #vampire au #vampires #blood #virgil sanders #roman sanders #logan sanders #patton sanders #janus sanders #remus sanders #emile picani #remy sleep #my own work #coffin #violence #speciesism #vampire virgil #platonic moxiety

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lilacmoon83 · 4 years ago

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Clarity

Also on Fanfiction.net and A03

Chapter 17: Mirror, Mirror

David gently sat on the edge of the bed beside her, as she cried into her pillow. Gently, he rubbed her back in a soothing manner and her hand sought his free hand and they laced their fingers together.

"I'm so naïve," she lamented, as she sniffed and looked up at him.

"No...don't mistake your hopeful nature for naivete," he admonished. She rubbed her face free of the tears and sat up beside him.

"In those moments, as the curse was on the brink and I held you in my arms...I held onto the hope that you'd survive and that Emma would return to us," Snow said.

"And she did...you were right," he implored.

"But I didn't for a second have time to consider what kind of life she would have had when she did," she replied. He shook his head.

"There was no way we could have known," he reasoned.

"Maybe not...but we sent her into this world alone," she said.

"Because we were lied to. And you know it was this or she might not have made it all. Regina's men cut me down that night and had the same thing in mind for her. They were ruthless, Snow...they would have thought nothing of killing her," he replied.

"I know...I just wish she could see that," Snow said.

"She will...she just needs more time," he promised.

"What if she never comes around?" Snow asked. He shook his head.

"Gold said that he saw that she breaks the curse. He just doesn't know when or how. But she does," he reminded her. But Snow shook her head.

"But Charming...what if she does and she decides she still doesn't want anything to do with us? Breaking the curse helps the rest of the town wake up, but it doesn't help Emma," she said and he deflated a little. It was a really good point.

"I'm her mother...and I don't know how to comfort her or help her. I'm her mother and I can't comfort my own daughter!" she cried and he pulled her into his arms, as she sobbed against his chest. He gently rocked her and kissed her hair, as he held her and mourned for all they had lost with her.

~*~

"Yes Madam Mayor...I'll make sure the story is done for the morning edition. When I'm done, the entire town will be appalled by what Emma Swan and Neal Cassidy are doing. Trying to take your son away from you will not stand," he promised, as hung up the phone and sat down to work again. Finishing the hit piece on David Nolan and Mary Margaret Blanchard, as well as one on Emma Swan and Neal Cassidy was a tall order. Normally, he could work through the night, but with the Miner's Day celebration that evening, he had an obligation to attend and cover that as well. He sighed and stood up, happening to catch his reflection in the mirror. He didn't consider himself a vain man, but he had always been drawn to mirrors and could never really explain why. After a few seconds of staring, he broke out of the trance and continued to the kitchenette in his office to make more coffee. It was going to be a long afternoon, followed by a very long evening.

~*~

Many Years Ago

The newly coronated Queen Eva glowed radiantly, as most newly expectant mothers did. She exited the carriage, as the footman opened the door and she gazed at her parent's magnificent castle. She only wished they were still alive so they could soon meet their grandchild. But now, her home Kingdom was ruled by her beloved sister, Queen Narcissa.

Growing up, they had both been what most would expect. Privileged and vain, but being Queen had humbled Eva greatly since her days as a bratty princess. She had learned much humility as Queen and saw that it was not her right to rule over her people; but a privilege to do so. As a result, the people in her husband's Kingdom had taken to her nicely and she to them. Their humbleness and kindness had rubbed off on her and she showed them the same in return.

Her selfish ways were behind her and now that she was with child, she could barely contain her joy. She had already promised herself that she would make sure to raise her child to respect others, no matter royal or otherwise and instill these newly learned values in her from the beginning.

Unfortunately, her older sister had not learned the same lessons that Eva had yet. She loved Narcissa, but she worried about her vanity and selfishness. It did not make a good ruler and her Kingdom was showing the signs.

"Narcissa?" Eva called, as she entered her sister's private sitting room and wasn't surprised to see her primping in front of the mirror, as usual. She gasped and turned to face her.

"Eva!" she called with excitement, as they embraced and once they pulled back, the blonde looked up and down.

"Look at you...you're glowing," she complimented. Eva grinned from ear to ear.

"Thank you...I'm so happy," she said.

"I'm so glad and I cannot wait to be an Aunt to this little bundle of joy," she gushed. Eva smiled.

"Me too...but what about you? I know you've had many suitors approach you. Have you chosen one? This could be you then," Eva replied. Narcissa brushed that off though.

"Oh…I don't know, none of them quite measure up and I'm not sure I could do this to my figure," Narcissa said, indicating her baby bump.

"Oh trust me, once you are with child, you won't care," Eva assured her. But she knew her sister's vanity was often her greatest enemy and she worried that, in the end, it would lead her to being alone and unhappy.

"Perhaps...but for now, why don't you make your way to the dining room and I'll join you shortly. The kitchen staff has prepared all your favorites and I'm sure you're famished now that you're eating for two," Narcissa said. She smiled.

"I am...and this little one can't seem to get enough cinnamon," Eva mentioned.

"Ahh cinnamon, if I recall, you've always been fond of it as well," Narcissa said.

"Very true," Eva replied.

"So...did your fairy friend tell you what you're having? Will it be a Prince or a Princess?" Narcissa asked.

"Well…I decided that we should be surprised, but I have a feeling it's a little girl," Eva replied.

"Oh yes...a little Princess to dress up and spoil. I know she'll be the most beautiful Princess in all the realm, well, second most beautiful," Narcissa said, indicating herself as the first. Eva smiled.

"She will...I'll see you downstairs. Don't take too long primping. You look beautiful, as always," Eva assured her. Narcissa smiled and stepped into her chamber where her personal mirror sat.

When she was very young, her parents presented her with an enchanted looking glass and since that time, she had asked the mirror one question everyday. And everyday, she received the same answer.

"Mirror, mirror on the wall...who is the fairest of all?" Narcissa asked and watched as the gray, mask-like face appeared before her.

"My Queen...you are the fairest, most beautiful woman in all the lands," the mirror answered. Narcissa smiled and fluffed her blonde hair, before turning away, intending to join her sister downstairs. But the mirror spoke again.

"At least for now," the mirror stated. Her smile melted into a frown and she turned back to the mirror.

"For now? What do you mean, mirror?" she asked.

"My Queen, you are indeed the fairest in all the lands, but there will soon be another that will someday hold that title," the mirror answered.

"Who? Who is this person!?" she demanded to know.

"My Queen...she is not born yet, but it will be your niece," the mirror revealed.

"My sister will have a girl?" she asked.

"Yes, My Queen and I foresee she will be so fair that many will be stunned by her beauty upon first glance," the mirror answered.

"She will steal my place?" Narcissa squeaked, as she was almost brought to tears by this.

"She will be kind, loving, and generous. She will be fierce in heart and spirit. She will have hair black as ebony, lips as red as a rose...and skin white as snow…" the mirror foretold.

"No! I am the fairest! I must remain the fairest!" Narcissa cried, as she stormed out of her chamber and what she must do became very clear. Her sister could not have that child…

~*~

"Are you sure about this? We don't have to go," David said, as he helped her put her coat on. They had grieved together for a while for all they had lost and then after they had fallen asleep for about an hour, they awoke and proceeded to shower and clean up. That evening was the Miner's Day celebration in the town square and they had planned to go together, but that was before the hard day they had experienced.

"I know...but I actually want to, because I finally have someone to go with. As you can imagine, they were pretty lonely in the past and always the same. This year will actually be different," she replied, as she put her arms around his neck. He smiled and kissed her tenderly.

"If you're sure...then we'll go," he said, as he grabbed his jacket. They joined hands and began the walk toward the town square.

"So...what is the point of this thing?" he asked. She snickered and looked at him.

"It's sort of like a festival of sorts to celebrate Storybrooke's founding by...miners," she explained.

"But it wasn't…" he replied.

"I know...I guess it's part of the curse. I'm not really sure why and it's probably going to be boring," she said.

"Any evening with you is wonderful," he replied, as they shared a smile.

"I just wish I could have made all this better for you...for us," he said.

"David...none of this is your fault," she replied.

"I know, but before me, at least you had Emma as a friend and I hate that I might have ruined that," he said. But she shook her head and they stopped on the corner.

"You didn't...you're my husband. You're the love of my life and father of our daughter," she said.

"I never considered what she might face in this world when we put her through the wardrobe. But I know that, as much hardship as she endured, it was still her best chance," she continued.

"It was...we did the right thing," he assured her.

"Then we have to hope that she sees that eventually. I'm going to have hope," she said. He smiled and kissed her passionately.

"Me too...and I know she's going to come around," he promised, as he hugged her tightly.

"Come on...let's get a cocoa and then you can show me what this festival is all about," he suggested, as she hooked her hand on his elbow and they made their way toward the square for the celebration.

~*~

At the town line, a luxury sedan crossed into Storybrooke, carrying a blonde woman and she slowed her car as she reached town proper. She parked along Main Street and stepped out. As usual, she was dressed to the nines in an expensive pantsuit, complete with an equally high end winter coat. Her blonde hair was pulled back into a twist with no hair out of place and her makeup was pristine. It was easy to tell by her appearance that how she looked was very important to her.

She looked around and was immediately unimpressed. This was definitely not New York and the Inn would be a far cry from her Manhattan penthouse apartment. Her stiletto heels tapped the pavement, as she made her way toward town square and she smirked. It seemed they were having a celebration and she was eager to join.

#Snowing #SnowxCharming #Charming family #Emma Swan #Neal Cassidy #Henry Mills #Regina Mills #Mr. Gold #AU #romance #adventure #family #angst #Clarity #A 7x15 am AU

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faejilly · 4 years ago

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tag game

Fic Writer Edition (tagged by @silver-latin-and-salt, tagging, idk, whoever is writing atm? @twistedsinews @leahazel @junemermaid, anyone who’d like, no one who doesn’t, etc.)

Fandoms: atm, primarily Shadowhunters. But also BioWare: Dragon Age and Mass Effect and maybe someday I’ll post some Jade Empire.

Also the occasional other game or TV show or Yuletide inspired one-shot. It’s a wide and ridiculous range of things, from a Georgette Heyer regency epilogue to Code: Realize and #7kpp to Firefly & even some Sleepy Hollow ficlets from back in s1 before we realized how terrible TPTB were going to be.

Number of fics: I have 158 works published on AO3.

This includes a couple of fanmixes that are linked on there to companion fics/series, two collaborative fics which are not just mine, even less so than most writing that is, and four WIPs: two of which I am still working on, one of which will absolutely 100% NEVER ever get more, and then that last one will probably not get more but who knows, maybe in ten years we’ll do a reunion and try again (it’s one of the collabs).

AS WELL AS: forty-seven different ficlet collections, sorted by fandom and pairing(s), because otherwise I would honestly have almost 1000 things and never be able to find a single damn one of them when I wanted to (and neither would anyone else). Like, ten of them are just for Shadowhunters because I split up the coda-fic by season and then also I put the porn in its own thing and Clizzy is kind of a post-canon AU so they’re on their own too and spin-offs of a particular fic setting get their own collection so they’re all together and etc. etc. etc.

Fic I spent a lot of time on: Do we count time actually writing? Or just the amount of time it hung out in my head before I finished it? Because I probably spent the most actual physical writing time on Lost For Words, which is a frothy cotton-candy experiment in long-fic for Mass Effect that I posted chapter by chapter as I wrote it and actually finished. (I have never successfully repeated the experience, tho I suppose a couple of my Shadowhunters fics will sort-of qualify in terms of length when they’re done, but they didn’t get posted semi-regularly and in progressive chapters in at all the same way.)

In terms of time between debut and completion, that would probably have to go to Cruel Intentions, which took over five years between initially going up on the Dragon Age Kink Meme and actually getting a conclusion.

i am for you and if broken hearts were whole have both been lingering WIPs for over two years at this point now, though, and a couple other DA2 fics were pretty close to that five year mark as well. 😅

Fic I didn’t spend a lot of time on: ashes of angels because I was coming up on my bingo deadline so I just pounded it out in a day. (It’s actually quite good tho! I think so, anyway! I am very proud of it! Read part one first, if you haven’t yet!)

also Impossible, (DA2, Bethany/Sebastian, confessional!porn) which mostly wrote itself in pretty short order, which was delightful. (Tho I also had a very astute beta for that one; don’t think he’s on tumblr anymore tho, or I’d yell at him in thanks again.) I told y’all I had a priest!kink problem. Not that you hadn’t all noticed on your own, anyways...

Longest fic: Finished? The aforementioned Lost for Words at just over 62k.

In limbo? Persephone Rising is literally three times longer than my next longest fic (and still not done!) but it is also a collab fic with three authors, so I suppose that sort of evens out?

Active WIP? i am for you at 59k. I’m not sure how much more is left of that one, tbqh... it will probably end up a bit longer than LfW, tho maybe not by much.

Shortest fic: I have no fucking clue, 47 ficlet collections, remember? In terms of a thing that I forgot to collect, apparently it is Consequences, which is my Brosca after the Landsmeet in DA:O.

Most hits/Most kudos/Most bookmarks: ALL THREE FOR i am for you! (Wonder how it’ll do when it’s no longer marked as a WIP?)

Total word count: On AO3: 1,137,609 !!!

(Sorry, you can see why I had to make that big tho, right?)

Fic I want to rewrite/expand: Except for the revisions to what is now Maleficar, I much prefer to leave fic as is, once it’s up there, so nothing on the re-write front. It was what it was when I did it, and it’s important to remember that, even when you move on to new stuff, imo.

But! I have potential/hopeful sequels in the WIP folder for and breathing is wishing, out of some dreaming tree, with an if in its soul, and several assorted ficlet collections & prompts I’ve sort of teased over the years.

Favourite fic of mine: At the moment, they have hung the sky with arrows because it’s a thing I’m not sure I ever really thought I was going to write, and then I did and I surprised myself a little, but it was fun and it ties together a lot of my thoughts on the Shadowhunters finale in a way I really enjoyed. (Also it has an actual plot! I don’t do that terribly often, I’m usually very introspective in my fic.)

Sneak peek of a WIP/Share an idea? I started a Shadowhunter!Magnus fic for a bingo square, but then scope creep! so I made a moodboard, but there is maybe a fic on the way... eventually. After my Bangs. 🤞🏻

The first time Magnus Bane met the High Warlock of Manhattan it was during his "travels", the two years after graduating from the Academy when most Nephilim wandered from Institute to Institute, seeing how things were done differently around the world, how they were still so often the same, learning about all the things you couldn't see in a classroom.

He wasn't actually in New York City in order to meet the High Warlock, of course, not as a 17-year-old foot soldier, that was well above his pay grade, as the mundanes put it. But when all the full-fledged Shadowhunters had work to do, he was assigned escort duty when the High Warlock showed up to do his yearly wards inspection.

Magnus met High Warlock Lightwood at the main entrance, and almost swallowed his own tongue at the sight of him, a broad shouldered, long-legged white man dressed in a conservative but very well-tailored suit, with heavy eyebrows, even heavier eyelashes, and a complete and utter lack of anything resembling an expression on his face.

A shiver went down Magnus' spine as he met the High Warlock's gaze, and he refused to think too much about why.

Magnus managed to introduce himself reasonably coherently, he thought, offering a hand to shake, but the High Warlock just raised an eyebrow at him. "I thought I'd talked them out of this nonsense last year."

"Uh." Magnus swallowed. The man was both terrifying and ludicrously attractive, and Magnus resigned himself to being a slightly stuttering idiot for the next four-to-six hours. "Not my call, I'm sorry to say. Sir."

The High Warlock rolled his eyes, and stepped forward. Magnus barely managed to dodge out of his way, and followed along behind him as he stalked towards the Angelic Core, where all the Institute Wards were anchored.

He never once acknowledged Magnus' presence as he worked, never asked for directions, or needed any sort of assistance. Magnus followed him anyway, and couldn't even bring himself to be upset about the waste of his time because damn, that view. He could see the shift of Lightwood's shoulders beneath the line of his coat, the tension in the muscles in his arms as each tiny motion correlated to whatever he was doing with his magic. There was so much power there, constrained and under his complete control.

The High Warlock never took so much as a wasted step in his clearly perfectly planned spiral of a route through the Institute's halls, circling out from the Core, stopping at each node, hitting all four corners of the building, before reaching the main doors again several hours later.

Once there he finally turned and looked at Magnus directly. He dipped his head in some slight acknowledgement, straightened his cuffs, and his face shifted into something that was merely neutral and professional rather than granite. "There were no concerns to note, Mr. Bane. The wards have been refreshed, and the contract terms have been met."

"Thank you," Magnus managed, though he had to cough to get his voice to cooperate.

The High Warlock's face softened, a hint of something that wasn't quite surprise in his eyes, but Magnus wasn't sure what to call it instead. "You're very welcome."

He nodded again, slightly more sincerely, perhaps, though there still wasn't enough of an expression on his face to properly qualify, in Magnus' opinion, and then he turned and left.

Magnus blinked at the doors as they shut behind him, and let out one long slow exhale. His shoulders relaxed, and it was only now that his posture sagged that he realized he'd been extra tense the entire time, as if waiting for an attack that had never come.

#on writing #fic memery #silver-latin-and-salt

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fraink5-writes · 4 years ago

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From Darkness Into the Lantern Light - Chapter 4

As promised, these chapters are coming out really fast now.

Thanks, of course, to @leio13 for her hard work editing!

Summary: Once upon a time, there was a cold-hearted queen. Although the Tsaritsa, as she was called, possessed her own divinity, she coveted the powers of the other Archons. Aiming to steal the Geo Archon’s gnosis, she sent her strongest warriors to Liyue Harbor. But just when Rex Lapis was almost defeated, he escaped to another vessel, that of a powerless baby, and was swept away to a hidden tower for his protection.

Many years after the great fight, the young and ambitious Harbinger, Childe, arrives in Liyue to grant the Tsaritsa’s desire, but, on his search for the Geo Archon’s gnosis, he ends up tangled in a mysterious man’s dreams to see Liyue Harbor’s Lantern Rite.

This chapter can also be found on Ao3 here. Without further ado, please enjoy!

Mingyun Village hardly lived up to its name. Childe doubted that it constituted as a real village even in its peak. It consisted of a few distant buildings, located near the entrances of mines. Given a couple of years, the buildings would cease to exist entirely. They were in ruins, not much more than straw roofs held up by dilapidated wood. A ghost town like this was a perfect haunt for hilichurls, yet there were none to be seen. Stranger still, one of the buildings appeared to be insignificantly less disrepair than the others; in fact, the lights appeared to be on. In front of the building, over what was once probably a village message board, a new sign with obnoxious lettering read "THE CRUX" and in smaller letters below, "Tavern."

Childe's lips curled. This was an even better situation than he had hoped for. "Let's go there. We should be able to get something to eat."

Zhongli nodded slowly.

On cue, Childe swung open the door to the establishment with perhaps too much enthusiasm. The door's hinges jostled, and Childe was met with stares and murmurs.

"A guest?"

"Our first guest?"

"Here?"

"Ahem, hello." Childe cautiously closed the door behind him and Zhongli. "Sorry about the door. How are you fine folks doing?"

"Wait a minute…" A large man with messy hair surrounding his face stepped forward, clutching at the knife on his hip. "I know who you are." Childe only had time to force a grin before the man pointed his knife and called out, "Seize him!"

Where an ordinary person would feel caution, Childe felt excitement. He counted in his head: nine people in the tavern, three of whom probably couldn’t fight. In other words, favorable numbers. He pulled out the dagger on his right to parry the incoming slice. Then, he swung into the man’s left side, but he was blocked. Swipe after jab after swipe, the man left no openings for Childe’s offensive. So the people of this tavern are, in fact, the crew of the legendary Crux Fleet. It was time for Childe to take the fight a little more seriously.

Right as Childe’s blood got pumping, two pairs of arms seized him from the sides. A woman of unassuming stature stepped in front. “Make no mistake: our goal isn’t a fair fight. We’re just going to subdue you until the Captain returns.”

So the captain isn’t even here? Childe’s sigh was cut short by a fist in his chest. The two bandanaed men tighten their grips on his arms before another punch landed under his chin, rattling his brain.

Think. The two men at Childe’s side wouldn’t be so hard to shake off. But once he broke free, another punch flew into his abdomen.

“You wouldn’t stand a chance against Captain Beidou,” the woman scoffed while preparing her next fist.

Another blow to the face. Childe could easily dod—her knee slammed into his stomach. When Childe staggered, the anticipated fist knocked his jaw. She was relentless, and the next kick was sure to be worse than the first one. Childe braced himself.

“ENOUGH!” Someone’s voice boomed as a spear cracked the floor between Childe and his opponent. “Don’t touch him!”

As the tavern crew faltered, Zhongli stepped in front of Childe and plucked his spear from the ground. His straight back towered over Childe as power coursed from his firm legs to his wide shoulders. His stance was as impenetrable as a shield, sturdy as a boulder and sculpted as a statue. Childe’s heart fluttered as his breath finally started again. For a brief moment, he had even forgotten the Crux Fleet and his desire to meet their captain.

But Childe’s rationality returned when Zhongli cleared his throat. “I’m sorry for raising my voice.” He was regular Zhongli again. The other had been but a fleeting manifestation—a dream. “But he has sworn to guide me to Liyue Harbor in order to see the lantern festival. Don’t any of you believe in the sanctity of contracts? Or, if Liyue is so different than what I have read, don’t you all, at the very least, value the pursuit of dreams?”

Both the Crux Fleet and Childe were taken aback by Zhongli’s efforts at peace. Finally, the acting leader of the crew, the one who had ordered Childe’s capture earlier, stepped forward.

Now he will make a mockery of Zhongli’s pacifism and cause such a great trauma that Zhongli will want to immediately return to his tower. Childe squeezed his dagger, preparing to fend off anyone who dared challenge Zhongli.

However, the man sheathed his knife. “I know the importance of following your dreams. In fact, if it weren’t for Captain Beidou, I’d probably still be wasting my life away on the docks.”

Childe’s knife fell to the floor. He painstakingly squatted down to pick it up without creating a stir, all while intently watching the brawny man.

“If the Captain heard that, she’d laugh!” The scrawnier of the bandanaed men taunted.

“Ahem.” Ignoring the comment from his fellow sailor, the man turned back to Zhongli. “Anyway, what’s your name?”

“Zhongli.”

“I’m Juza, Chief Mate of the Alcor. When the Captain isn’t around, I am in charge here. Out of respect for your goals, we’ll let you go.”

“Thank you.” Zhongli bowed politely.

“Really?” The eyepatched woman whined. She looked ready to punch Childe again.

“Yes, really! I wouldn’t want him to become like the old me, wasting my days away. It’s thanks to Captain Beidou that I am living a fulfilling life, and I think she would give Zhongli the same chance.”

“That’s so corny though.”

“I don’t think you have the right to call anything corny, Furong,” another woman with a braid teased.

“Hmph! Finding the right person is important. Besides, we’re both looking for a fight, anyway, aren’t we?”

“A fight?” Zhongli interrupted, bewildered.

“Yes, you see, I am the strongest person on this ship, minus Captain Beidou. Even Juza has never beaten me at arm wrestling! But one day, I’ll meet the right person who can beat me in a match. Ahh… That’s how I’ll know they’re the one for me!”

“I hope you meet them someday soon.”

“I’m in no rush. I do enjoy this freedom. But, if you want, we can go a round? I’m sure you’ll fare much better than your partner there.”

Childe grumbled. He wanted to warn Zhongli against it for many reasons. What if he lost? What if he won?

“I accept.”

“Alright!” Furong led Zhongli to a nearby table where the woman with braided hair and a woman in purple were having drinks.

“Good luck!” The first woman muttered as she stepped out of the way.

Furong put her right elbow on the table and encouraged the clueless Zhongli to the same. “You mean, you’ve never arm-wrestled before?”

“No, but I was curious.”

“Well, it’s simple. Grab my hand. The goal is to bring it down to the table with yours on top.” Furong firmly clasped Zhongli’s hand. “We can do a practice round. Not that the results will be any different though.”

“Ready?” Juza stepped in as referee. “Go!”

Furong immediately slammed Zhongli’s hand to the table. With an unchanged expression, Zhongli remarked, “I understand now. I am ready for the real match.”

“You sure?” Furong gloated, but Zhongli would not be deterred.

“Alright, ready? GO!”

Zhongli’s and Furong’s hands vacillated at the center, but they steadily tipped in Zhongli’s favor. Then, when they were a mere 45 degrees from the table, their position flipped, and Zhongli’s hand hit the table.

“Haha! Winner again!” Furong beamed. “No offense though! You put up a great fight, but it would take exceptional strength to actually beat me."

“Yeah, yeah, enough of your boasting.” The skinny man with a bandana sighed then turned to Zhongli. “At least, you’re not trapped in marriage. Oh yeah, I’m Xu Liushi. You may have heard of me. Probably not though—too young.”

“Have you ever heard of Third-Round Knockout?” The other man with a bandana chimed in.

“No, what is it?” Zhongli asked, slightly taken aback by the name.

“It’s a famous hole-in-the-wall at Liyue Harbor. Xu Liushi here gave it its name.”

“Oh really? What an honor.”

Xu Liushi fidgeted with his bandana, “Oh, it’s not such a great story…”

“Yeah!” The woman with the braid raised her drink. “He’s the one who passed—”

“Sshh!! Let me tell it at least!” Xu Liushi cleared his throat before resuming his proper story. “You’ve never been there, but their speciality is fermented rice balls.”

“It sounds delicious.”

“Well, essentially they are just rice balls swimming in wine. When I was younger, I lost a bet and had three whole bowls…”

“And fell into the harbor! Haha!” Furong cheered, joining the other ladies in a toast.

Xu Liushi averted his gaze. “Yes, that’s basically what happened. No employers want a sailor who can’t control his drinking. Only Captain Beidou gave me a chance. I’ve cleaned up my act since then thanks to her, and one day I will make it back there and show them how much I’ve changed!”

The whole tavern went up in cheers.

"Hey, why does his dream get applause and not mine?" Furong demanded.

"Because his is actually good." The purple lady remarked nonchalantly.

"Pay them no heed." Juza cut in before Furong could retaliate. "Third-Round Knockout has a good reputation—in spite of its nickname—you shouldn't worry about going there."

Zhongli, his eyes glittering, turned back towards Childe, who just shrugged with a small smile. But Zhongli’s attention was quickly snatched back by the other man with a bandana.

“Wanna drink?”

“Yes, please. May I have a glass of water?”

The man filled a large beer mug with water. “I’m Drake, by the way. The ship’s steersman. It’s actually pretty rare that I leave my position on the Alcor, but the Captain let me off this time. Although, frankly, I prefer being at sea.” He poured another mug for himself (this time with beer) and promptly chugged half of it down. “That’s probably true for most of us. I actually wanted to be at the helm of my own ship, going wherever I please. Of course, I trust Captain Beidou’s leadership, but sometimes I still dream of my own vessel…”

“Most of us, though, are pursuing our dreams by following Captain Beidou,” the braided woman interrupted. “I’m Huixing, the helmsman. Nice to meet you!”

“The pleasure’s mine.” Zhongli bowed. “What is your dream?”

“Mine? To see a leviathan with my own eyes! A giant sea monster. I heard Captain Beidou slew Haishan, the legendary creature of the sea, by herself—how cool is that? That’s why I believe that if I stick with Captain Beidou, I will surely get to encounter a behemoth myself. Suling must think the same way.”

A man with a goatee waved from the back of the room and headed over. "I'm just a smith. I don't have any dreams of taking down behemoths. I joined Captain Beidou’s crew in order to see rare weapons. With the Captain’s guidance, finding a legendary weapon won’t be a dream for much longer.” He eyed Zhongli briefly. “Oh yes, have you heard of Hanfeng’s Ironmongers?”

“No, sorry, I have not.”

“Well, my cousin, Master Zhang, is the boss there. If you visit him when you get to Liyue Harbor, he can fix you up with a better polearm than that one. You can tell him I sent you.”

“Thank you. That’s very generous. I must do something in return for all your kindness.”

“Have any mora on you?” The woman in purple chimed in.

“Sorry, I left my wallet at home.”

Childe held his forehead in his hand with a sigh. There was no way this kindness, as Zhongli put it, would be free, which meant one thing: Childe would be paying the expenses.

The woman chuckled. “Well, you’re in luck right now. I’m just the bookkeeper for the Fleet. I can’t set the prices.”

“If she was able to charge you, you wouldn’t have anything left for the rest of your journey,” Juza laughed.

Unlikely, Childe thought to himself.

“I’m all about making money,” The bookkeeper emphasized. “Afterwards, I don’t care what happens to it.”

“That’s a fascinating economic philosophy,” Zhongli remarked without a hint of irony.

“It’s a life philosophy. Life isn’t all about the results—life is the process itself. You should keep that in mind with your dreams too.”

“Don’t mind her; it’s good to focus on your dreams.” A woman in blue nudged the bookkeeper. “Although, I’d say I’ve gotten awfully sidetracked.” She laughed. “Oh, excuse me, my name is Yinxing. I’m the Alcor’s surgeon.”

“What happened to your dream?” Zhongli asked.

“Oh, nothing really. I always wanted to be a veterinarian, but somehow I ended up working as a surgeon on this ship. I don’t regret it, but sometimes I do worry about the kittens I’ve left behind on the harbor.”

“When we get to Liyue Harbor, we can check on them.”

“Oh really? You’re a lifesaver, for the kittens. They should be with a Millelith named Yong’an.”

Zhongli had signed Childe up for three additional activities at Liyue Harbor already, and this last one was particularly risky. Childe would have to chat with him later, although he already considered it a futile effort. Childe was no longer the one in charge of the expedition.

“Hey, hey!” A child appeared from nowhere and tugged on Zhongli’s coat. “Do you wanna join the Cygnus Fleet? We could use someone strong like you!”

“The Cygnus Fleet?”

“It’s my very own fleet—er, will be! I’m gonna create a fleet even stronger than Captain Beidou’s! So you wanna join?”

“Aren’t you a little young to be sailing?”

“No fair! Captain Beidou says the same thing! But I stowed aboard our last voyage and was absolutely fine! Well, Captain Beidou was very mad, but…”

“If you start now, I’m sure you will be an excellent sailor by the time you reach adulthood.”

“Right?! Right?!” The kid shouted gleefully. “So will ya join?”

“Ask me again in a few years, and we’ll see.”

“Don’t forget: it’s Captain Yue and the Cygnus Fleet!”

“I look forward to hearing of all your accomplishments, Little Captain.” Zhongli smiled gently. The small curve of his lips was very unusual for his face but also becoming. Each second needed to be savored.

However, the blissful moment was interrupted by a rough voice. “So, what about you?”

“Who, me?” Childe snapped back into reality to find all the predatory eyes of the fleet upon him.

“Yeah, you.” Juza’s hands slid ever so slowly towards his sheath. “What do you want? Your dream?”

“My dream? Oh.” Childe laughed lightly. “Well, this is embarrassing…”

“Go on.”

“You see, what I’m really looking for…” Even Zhongli was watching Childe intently. “Is love.”

“You?!” Furong clutched her stomach in laughter.

“Hey! I don’t think you have any right to laugh! At least I don’t judge people by their arm-wrestling capabilities.”

“You wanna go a round? I bet you couldn’t beat me!”

“I wouldn’t want to try. I don’t want to accidentally end up your husband.”

Furong reached for her knife.

“Hey.” Huixing held Furong back. “You romantics shouldn’t fight. Shouldn’t you be wingmen?” She snickered. “But, I agree. It’s very odd that someone like you would be looking for a romantic partner.”

“How is it odd? We Snezhnayans have feelings too. In fact, our Tsaritsa is the Goddess of Love.”

“So?” Xu Liushi asked, “What kind of person are you looking for?”

Childe had not thought that far. He was hoping that a vague, universal would tide them over. “Someone who is gentle but tough when they need to be. Of course, although they strive for peace, they would be a warrior through and through.” That was the kind of person Childe would offer his life to.

“Good luck finding someone like that. It almost makes Furong’s marriage contest look reasonable,” gibed Xu Liushi, earning him stares like daggers from both Childe and Furong.

“Aaanyway,” Juza tried once again to reign in the rambunctious crowd. “What about you, Zhongli? You’re going to Liyue Harbor to see the Lantern Rite? You’ve never been before?”

“Yes, every year, I have watched them from my window. They twinkle so distantly like stars, yet they call to me. They beckon me. That is why I wish to see them up close.”

“They are quite a sight to behold,” Suling interjected. “Even when we’re at sea, we also enjoy watching them. Then we know we’re not so far from home.”

“Well, you know the legend about the Lantern Rite, right?” The bookkeeper asked.

“No, I do not. What is it?”

"They say that they started lighting the lanterns for the soldiers in order to show them the way home." The bookkeeper and other members of the crew began weaving many tales of Liyue’s history, none of which interested Childe. There were no lanterns for Childe. There was no snow, no fishing holes… Childe was very far from home.

Childe shook his head. He had left his old life behind when he went to the Abyss. As long as he kept the Tsaritsa in his heart, Snezhnaya was always close.

Childe watched as Zhongli exchanged stories with the Crux Fleet. He couldn’t help but admire the curious glow of his gaze and the grace of his gestures. Childe had thought of Zhongli as a paranoid recluse, yet, at the tavern, he melted in seamlessly with the group—or rather, he had melted the rough crew members into friendly conversationalists. His polite mannerisms exuded a gentle power.

But at the same time, there was another part of Zhongli that set Childe’s heart ablaze. Childe was itching to bear witness to his latent strength again. The same excitement that danced through his nerves before a battle ran rampant with desire: combative and carnal.

#Genshin Impact #Chili #Childe #Zhongli

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365days365movies · 4 years ago

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January 27, 2021: The Raid: Redemption (2011)

So, uh...I’ve switched things up a touch. Originally, I was going to do Lindy West’s suggestion today, but...no. No, I need something good to pick me up from yesterday’s disappointment. So, we move from the United States to a country with far, FAR less movies: Indonesia.

The country of over 17,000 islands hasn’t exactly made a lot of films, but their film industry does exist. I might look more into these films someday, but the one film that EVERYBODY recommends is Gareth Evans’ The Raid: Redemption. And no, Gareth isn’t an INdonesian name; it’s a Welsh name for a Welsh director best known for his Indonesian films. Interesting, innit?

See, Evans was hired to direct a film about the Indonesian martial art type, pencak silat. One of the specialists he filmed was Iko Uwais, who was a deliveryman at the time. Together, the two made the movie Merantau in 2009, and it was a big success in Indonesia. So, the two reunited for another film.

And hopefully, that film will leave me more satisfied than The Expendables did. Shall we? SPOILERS AHEAD!!!

Recap

The day begins as a policeman, Rama (Iko Uwais), prays, spars aggressively with a training bag, and says goodbye to his pregnant wife (Fikha Effendi). His father (Henky Solaiman) is also there, and he promises to “get him back.” Don’t know who “him” is, so I’m intrigued.

In a truck, 20 SWAT agents, Rama included, are being briefed on an upcoming raid of a building that would appear to be a crime hotel run by drug lord Tama (Ray Sahetapy). While raids have been attempted before, none have been particularly successful. This time, however, they pledge to take down as many people as humanly possible, and clean up the city of Jakarta as a result.

The agents, led by Jaka (Joe Taslim) and Wayhu (Pierre Gruno), stand below the massive concrete apartment building, and creep their way into it. They split into two groups: one takes out a guard, and goes in through one entrance. The other encounters Gofar (Iang Darmawan), an innocent tenant with a sick wife upstairs. Hothead Bowo grabs and threatens him, before being told off by Rama.

Rama promises to get the man to his wife and apartment safely, and the group goes in. The raid’s begun as they begin arrests of everybody in the building, floor-by-floor. They make it to the sixth floor, where they encounter a child in a hallway. They fail to calm the child down, and he runs to warn a friend...and is then shot in the neck by Wahyu. This movie just killed a kid, guys. Holy shit.

The second kid raises a building-wide alarm, and now EVERYBODY knows that the police are here, including Tama and his two lieutenants, Andi (Donny Alamsyah) and Mad Dog (Yahan Ruihan). And now, all hell breaks loose.

Tama’s reinforcements arrive, and take out the officers RUTHLESSLY. One guy single-handedly takes back the fifth floor, and the SWAT truck is shot up as well. Snipers take out officers on the outside and in windows. And as our remaining officers start to realize this, Tama makes an announcement over the comms, announcing both the SWAT team’s position and free rent in the apartment building for those who take them out. Yeah, they’re FUCKED.

What’s even worse is that nobody knows that this team is there, according to Wahyu, which means that there are no reinforcements coming. Also affirms my suspicions that Wahyu is a SHITTY cop, holy shit. And as I’m thinking that, with all of the men in a dark stairwell…

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HOLY FUCK!!! Tama’s men above, SWAT below, trading gunfire and picking each other off like a close-up trench war! The only light during the fight is from their muzzle fire! This is...amazing, oh my God.

Tama and his guys are watching from cameras all the while, and Tama seems to know Wahyu, and how shitty a cop he is. He gives the order: wipe them out, and destroy any evidence they were here. Nobody will know. Nice one, Wahyu; nice one. The SWAT team narrowly escapes into a room, only to be greeted by gunfire from the outside. Trapped again, Rama comes up with a solution: get to the floor below by chopping through the floor with an axe! FUCK YES.

And the action doesn’t stop there! They get ambushed in that room, and use the axe to defend themselves, as well as fighting and guns. At one point, the criminals come in through the floor above, and a guy catches one in mid-fall, and THROWS HIM THROUGH A WINDOW WHAT

And then, AND FUCKING THEN, they put a tank of compressed flammable gas in an empty fridge, shove it against the door, throw a FUCKING GRENADE IN THERE, AND BLOW THE FRIDGE THROUGH THE GUYS ON THE OTHER SIDE OF THE DOOR

WHOOOOOOOO I’M BACK BABY THIS FUCKIN’ RULES

Tama, frustrated at the damage and loss of his men, sends Andi and Mad Dog to take care of the situation. Meanwhile, a scarce handful of officers are left, including Rama, Bowo, Jaka, Wayhu, Dagu (Eka Rahmadia) (whom I haven’t yet had cause to mention), and about three more officers have survived.

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Rama and Bowo make their way to the 7th floor, where Rama hopes to leave the badly injured Bowo with the tenant from earlier. Rama fights off, just...SO many gang members, allegedly pulling no punches (allegedly because he totally does, if you look at the fights), and eventually makes it to Gofar’s door. Despite his sick wife and reluctance to help, he agrees to take them in. Tama’s men barge in, looking for the men, who are hiding within a hidden wall compartment. And that’s when…

HOLY SHIT THAT WAS FUCKIN’ RAD AS HELL

But Andi, another of Tama’s men, is headed down to take care of this mess. On the elevator down, he TAKES OUT TWO OF HIS COLLEAGUES, WHAT?!? OK, some questions to resolve here, but I’m sure we’ll get to it. Rama leaves to find the others, and immediately gets into another fight. He throws a man down a staircase at one point.

Ow. OW. Just when he’s cornered by sword-boy and more goons, we get yet another Rama hallway fight, this one much more authentic-feeling, damn! And it ends with Rama tackling a dude out of a window, FALLING WITH HIM ONTO A FIRE ESCAPE, AND DIVING INTO ANOTHER APARTMENT LIKE A GODDAMN CHAMPION

And unlike other stereotypical action protagonists, he’s not exactly OK after all this. He stumbles about, hallucinates a little for good measure, and almost passes out until found by...someone he knows. The “him” from earlier perhaps? Iiiiiiinteresting.

Back to the other SWAT agents, finally! Holed up in an apartment, Wayhu writes off Rama and Bowo as dead. Jaka ain’t exactly happy about this comment, or with Wayhu. We now find out that this mission isn’t sanctioned by the police, hence no reinforcements. Additionally, Wayhu may not be on the up-and-up, as it’s implied that he may be a corrupt cop. Jaka, tired of his bullshit, gathers the men to go find their colleagues.

Not that that lasts very long, because Mad Dog ambushes them literally as soon as they open the door. Holding Jaka at gunpoint, he guides him back into the apartment, where the two fight. Oh, and this one’s GOOD. It’s REAL good, holy shit.

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Cool as it is, though, it represents the end for Jaka, and Mad Dog snaps his neck, and he’s gone. Damn. HELL of a fight, though. Mad Dog’s doing well, but how about Andi?

Well, Andi’s the guy who took Rama, and yes, he’s the “him” that Rama mentioned to their father. That’s right, THEIR father, because Andi’s his brother. They bond and catch up, and while they do clearly love each other, they’re also estranged, due to their differing paths in life. But Rama signed up for this mission SPECIFICALLY to get Andi back home, to their father. Andi refuses, and tells Rama to leave before he gets killed. Rama also refuses, not wanting to abandon his colleagues to the gang. And so, they part ways.

We’re down to four now: Rama, Wayhu, Bowo, and Dagu. Rama proposes going for Tama, the location of whom the corrupt Wayhu already knows. Just like how Tama knows that Andi is a traitor, having saved Rama. Tama stabs Andi in the hand, and questions him on who Rama is, and the nature of their relationship. I’m sure it’ll end well for Andi.

Our three remaining non-injured cops take out a drug lab in the building, where we get some more good fight choreography, and the reason that Dagu is here: he’s a pretty goddamn good fighter. And I know I’m breaking records for the number of videos in this one, but their fights are...just stellar.

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Afterwords, Rama finds his brother being used as a human punching bag by Mad Dog. See here’s the thing about Mad Dog; he’s a brawler at heart. While he might use guns to kill or threaten people if he has to, he prefers to use his hands and feet. And now...it’s two on one. This gon’ be güd.

Wayhu and Dagu, meanwhile, corner Tama in his office. Whew, finally, good guys prevail.

AWWWWWWW, DAGU! We hardly knew ye! Literally, I’m not sure you did literally anything the whole movie, except for fight that one time, like 6 minutes ago. Wayhu holds up Tama at gunpoint, ordering him to get them out of there safely.

The fight between Mad Dog and the brothers is still happening, by the way, and it’s still awesome...despite the terrible sound editing during these fights. Yeah, I’ll get there in the Epilogue. This fight, though, is crazy. It’s incredibly difficult to track who exactly has the upper hand throughout, but eventually, Mad Dog reveals that it’s him. He locks Rama in the same stranglehold that killed Jaka...and then...I’m putting this fight in video right here, because the ending is amazing. THE WHOLE FIGHT IS AMAZING

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After that’s all said and done, the brothers escape, and encounter Wayhu and Tama. Wayhu fires upon the brothers, fully turned traitor at this point. Tama tells Wayhu that there isn’t much hope for him anyway, especially as the person who ordered Wayhu to take the hit already told Tama that the raid was going to happen. No, this was never about Tama; Wayhu was the target all along, as they sent him there to die.

Not that it matters, as he kills Tama regardless. Realizing that he doesn’t have much better luck outside of the building at this point, he tries to do the same to himself, only to finally be out of bullets. WHOOF.

It’s over. With Andi’s help, they get evidence against Tama and all of the corrupt cops that he dealt with, retrieve Bowo, and leave the building. Andi stays behind, once again stating that this is where he belongs. The brothers part ways once again.

And THAT...was The Raid: Redemption. GOD. DIGGITY. DAMN. EPILOGUE.

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meibemeibelline · 4 years ago

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part 3 (FINAL) of highlights from that 32k word doc i wrote when i marathoned gazette songs (2012-2018)

PART 1 | PART 2

once again:

This is a combo of thoughts on music, lyrics and other random things I wrote while listening. Not every song will be featured, sorry.

I sometimes directly quote translations and when I do, I’ll specify whose it was. Here are the masterposts of lyrics by Heresiarchy , Defective Tragedy and Trauma Radio

I will write song titles for which there are warnings in bold and all caps

So this part will be a bit different because mental health and The Band became really prominent themes in their music in a way it wasn’t really before, so rather than simply writing about songs as they come, I do (attempt to) connect some dots between songs and albums

Also this is REALLY LONG (~5k words)

If you read any of these posts, thank you <3

CONTENT WARNINGS: murder (In Blossom), reference to abuse (In Blossom), suicide/suicidal thoughts (Kagefumi, Deux/Blemish), reference to PTSD (Incubus). Overall LOTS of discussions about mental health.

buckle up folks it’s gonna be a long one

So I listened to Division according to the limited edition version where the songs got split into the ‘story-like songs’ and the ‘hype songs’. Just while we’re on that, I like to think that Vein is the story part because these songs (the blood) are meant to go TO our hearts, while Artery, which is the ‘raw emotion’, is the heart doing the talking and supplying the oxygen that will do its thing. LIKE HEADBANGING.

“Ibitsu is not the first song they’ve written about changes in the music industry, but it’s quite different from others like 13Stairs[-]1 and Dim Scene. They were quite angry about the state of things, lamenting it. But here, Ruki is writing his and the band’s place in all of that. It’s like in the other two songs he’s like, “wow look at all this rubble. This sucks.” But in Ibitsu he’s writing about how he’s also in that rubble and thinks about what HE feels about it in relation to himself and the GazettE. And I find that quite interesting. Also hell YES imagery – skies as ideals, the world around them collapsing into ruin, the band as a flower amidst the rubble that can’t reach the sky. It sounds like he’s trying to navigate how he’s supposed to move forward when his ideals and what’s happening in the industry oppose each other quite a lot. He doesn’t reach an answer in this song and ends by asking whether it is actually in ruins or whether he’s just afraid of change, I think.” - interestingly, he uses this same imagery in Kuroku Sunda Sora to Zangai to Katahane to write about anxiety and not feeling good enough.

Quick disclaimer on KAGEFUMI: I do want to say first that I’m talking about this purely as a piece of art. Not as in, like, “this is peak romance”, but just as an artwork I can have Opinions™ about, even if they’re possibly in disagreement with that of the creator. “The shadow tag metaphor for a couple committing double suicide meaning that they’re ‘becoming one’ and being together in death is A Lot. There’s an incredibly strong belief in an afterlife where they can be together makes (what Ruki describes) this stronger bond between them that literally lasts or even transcends the boundaries between life and death, rather than a tragic end (unlike Tokyo Shinjuu). Musically, I love this song and think it’s gorgeous, the way it’s sad yet hopeful. We over here with that bittersweet stuff again but lyrically it’s a WILDLY different route than others before it.”

“Yoin is such a heavy end to disc 1. The ending lines, “The sea of loss / Understanding of helplessness / That day we grieved” about the Tohoku earthquake/tsunami and the nuclear disaster is just so ……. And not only that, but how even though people still struggle to survive, people are moving on like it’s a thing of the past. It’s SO heavy.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“I think [Derangement] is about a massive internal struggle between wanting longing for the past, knowing it won’t come back, but also wanting to destroy the past out of self-hatred. There are aspects of the past, perhaps ambition and drive for example, that are good, but other parts that are not. It’s almost like a continuation of Remember the Urge but like…angrier and with more hatred towards his own past rather than only the longing of it. Which is also really interesting.” – this is definitely one of the themes that comes up A LOT from now, ESPECIALLY in Ninth. We’ll get to that.

“IS KAI GOOD??? That man is NOT human. I swear to god his drums in Required Malfunction are INSANE. ANYWAY, this song is about how people cannot be perfect and we all have flaws, especially in the context of relationships. I like that even though people argue and butt heads sometimes, there’s that Japanese verse where he sings “Let’s send a song without stains / to that innocence without lies / so you can swallow those wounds” and the last lines “Because you are always here, I can advance” to mean like…them being together can ultimately make them better and it can be a good relationship (if they work on it, imo). Also, I love the language he uses here – viruses and malfunctions and inputs – a very non-human way to write about human relationships.” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

(Dripping Insanity) “Solitude drenched in red laughs / in the insanity dripping in silence” is SUCH a good line yes hello I appreciate this. (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“EYYY HAVEN’T HEARD FORBIDDEN BEAVER IN FOREVER. At first I was wondering if this might be judgmental but honestly? I think this is satirical, especially from the line “May the truth you spew on taboos going frantically around / Shred the rhythm of high society”. Like the fact they’re gossiping about a famous woman who has a lot of sex and just TARNISHING her name bc of it, to Ruki, is a load of bullshit. Also, some of the lyrics in the chorus are funny coming from Ruki – “She has a sex addiction / Bang! Bang! / Cute luv machine” – like he does NOT ever write like this and this song is just a huge satirical joke I’m YELLING.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The transition from Malformed Box to Inside Beast >>>>”

“[Inside Beast] is definitely about having a ‘beast’ inside you that’s like all your demons and ugly feelings and to let them all out. He wrote about demons in Derangement, but the way he writes about acceptance is like…empowering and freeing. Not necessarily through words but through the music and just how hard this song slaps.”

“I really love the lyrics of [Until it Burns Out] and its whole thing about valuing the time they have as a band and to be together making music precisely because it’s going to end someday, and it’s going to be their last shot at living their dreams, which is to make music and perform TOGETHER as the GazettE. Like that’s so meaningful, and powerful in the way they just…grab it by the fucking throat. Breaking down the walls that hold them back, TOGETHER, towards the future in which they see their dreams. Like they’re not letting this be the end. They won’t allow it. UGH. UGHHH. The middle eight is so beautiful and I love the lines “The light that colours this irreplaceable scenery / burns the significance of standing here into me / Until the last” like they just love performing SO MUCH UGGGHHH FEELINGS”. (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“[REDO] IS SO GODDAMN SENTIMENTAL I’M IN MY FEELINGSSSSS. Kai being the composer, I can’t help but feel this is him paying homage to jazz, which is the music his mother plays and he loves her so so much. I’m probably reaching but THAT’S JUST HOW I FEEL.”

“EVERBODY SHUT UPPPP IT’S LAST HEAVEN TIMEEEE. It’s so gd gorgeous and sweet. I’M GETTING REALLY EMO WHAT THE FUCKKKK. BRUH. BRUUUUHHH. THIS IS SO BEAUTIFUL //THROWS. SHUT UPPPP. TOO MANY SKY, STAR AND FOREVER REFERENCES FOR THIS TO BE OKAY BITCH. This is Ruki’s love song to the cosmos, wishing to be eternal like the stars but acknowledging that all he can do is chase it knowing his life will end, BUT THAT THEY DON’T HAVE TO GRIEVE BECAUSE THEY WILL MEET AGAIN IN THE AFTERLIFE BECAUSE IN SOME WAY WE /ARE/ ETERNAL. IT’S LOVING AND INNOCENT AND WISTFUL. This song is the goddess to all the GazettE love songs. THANKS FOR COMING TO MY TED TALK. “The distant sky, this infinite moment / I now wish from the visible stars / in this youthful merry-go-round / that continues to turn endlessly / I want to be eternal like you” – is just…such a beautiful image. “Let’s stay like this, having dreams we cannot reach / Long road which leads to the calm hill / I go, leaving my sadness behind / Good night…my beloved / Last heaven of mine” – it’s yearning but it’s the yearning for LIFE. And to leave behind sadness…Ruki very rarely writes about pain like this. And to call the ‘beloved’ his last heaven, the last thing in his life that’s just THE BEST THING THAT’S EVER HAPPENED TO HIM AND THE THING HE WANTS TO BE ETERNAL WITH goodbye………GOODBYE. “Love without shape changing day by day / Close together / we become / one shooting star” – AAAHHH AAAAAAAAAHHHHHHHH. Also, for him to say ‘memento mori’ which means “Remember, you must die” in the middle eight of a song about wanting to be eternal just gives the entire sentiment a new meaning ;-;” (Cr: Trauma Radio)

“There’s a particular sound to Division and Beautiful Deformity (but more in BD). It sounds like rushing water. Loss in particular sounds like this. Like, the sound isn’t just ‘dark’ and ‘heavy’, it moves A LOT and there is sooo much emotionality in the songs on this album. It’s really dynamic.”

“The Stupid Tiny Insect revisits the theme of inner demons. Specifically, in this song it sounds like negative internal self-talk. It’s interesting though, the way that Ruki writes it as an entirely separate being to how he writes inner demons and whatnot in other songs, where it’s either another entity within a person that is part of them OR just…themselves. Here, they are VERY separate, and that probably allows him to feel and express rage instead of helplessness or confusion. I also love the reference to pretending to be okay – “I get high on delusion / And act as if I made them die out / ‘Just like a summer moth to a flame”.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“IN BLOSSOM is pretty fucking brilliant lyrically imo. It reminds me a lot of 32 Koukei no Pistol in that a protagonist who was abused/neglected by the parents kills them, and in the latter’s case only, also themselves. Some other differences: In Blossom is WAY angrier (and a lot more loaded) and the protagonist is trying to ‘make their own life’ (even if the way they choose to do that DOESN’T WORK), whereas the narrator in 32 Calibre Pistol was mostly lamenting that they’ve ‘lost their way’ and deep-down were wishing for their family to be happy together. I can’t say WHY that is. But it’s interesting that in In Blossom, the abuse just…DESTROYED their concept of family that they used to believe in entirely, and the fact they cannot separate themselves from their abusers neither by dying nor killing them is A Lot. So, they try to free themselves and ‘get hope’ by killing their abusers as revenge (“Die away, along with these wounds I’d counted”), but it doesn’t bring them happiness or heal them (“Even if I slash so much it’s unparalleled by the wounds I’d counted, it still starts to ache / It doesn’t even fight off the decay, much less heal me”). It’s very much saying that despite pain, revenge is not the answer. I also love the line “They adorn vividly – have blossomed beautifully / The sun that has started to set makes sure of it” to describe the wounds as the narrator kills their abusers and their loss of sanity as they do so.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“To Dazzling Darkness is about that moment when a concert is over and the lights start to come on. It’s so gorgeous. This is sort of like, the other side of Until it Burns Out. If UIBO is about the band then TDD is about the fans, and the band’s place in the world. I love the imagery in the first verse – darkness is usually associated with bad things, but here darkness is peace, escapism and unity that are part of the happiness of a concert, while the light symbolises the continuation of life. The scenery here is the same scenery in UIBO, which is the scenery of a concert that this band cherishes. There’s also the acknowledgement that time is fleeting and nothing is forever. Like, this is really the other side of the coin and I love it.”

“Dogma defines their new (2015) sound so well, which is HEAVY AND DIRTY AS FUCK. Like, it is SO conceptual and experimental and the painting is just GORGEOUS. I love the harpsichord in this song – as the predecessor of the piano, it was used in a lot of churches and religious music in the Baroque period (1600-1750ish), so using it here in a song where the band is likened to idols (the religious type) is super cool. And to combine it with these really low and heavy guitars just gives the DARKEST image.

And there’s so much going on in the lyrics – MANY MOTIFS, MANY MEANINGS. They bring back the concept of darkness as a symbol for escape from harsh life and of unity during concerts. As for death, Reita has an iconic quote where he said something along the lines of: “we often say in lives ‘to die’, but what we actually mean is to live. Live and be free”. I see death for GazettE as a kind of transformation – and end, yet also a beginning to become something or someone new.

Ruki hasn’t really mentioned god since Ogre in Dim, in which he basically wrote “idk if God exists but I don’t really care – all I need is me”. But here he likens the band to an idol of worship. We as the fans worship the GazettE, and they are also gods to us, their followers, in the sense that they provide us with life and unity (referred to here as death and darkness, respectively). The GazettE as a band brings darkness and death to the world (with their own meanings, of course).

This is also a song about the band breaking away from current gods and dogmas of the music industry, and from its greed. I also love the line, “The rite I must face is cloaked in darkness and isolation” – this process of their journey to finding their truth is lonely, and no one but them can do it for themselves. To do so also isolates them from everything they once knew. It’s them navigating what is expected of them by the masses and those they work with vs doing what they want without getting shunned for it.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

“DAWN IS ABOUT REDISCOVERING THEMSELVES. I love the number of metaphors he brings back in this song – 13 stairs, death, merry-go-rounds and again dogma. Death here is about the transformation of them as a band, which occurs at the top of the 13 stairs to the gallows. And I find that so interesting because he uses the image of gallows (eg: 13 Stairs[-]1 and Forbidden Beaver) as like…an actual Death that means the end of a genre or a person’s reputation, but here it’s a place of transformation. In Last Heaven, the merry-go-round is a symbol of life – it comes back here but this time it’s red instead of blue (youthful) and is paired with the image of a mad banquet with emotions running wild (ie concerts). Basically, this is about the band’s life and, like, their life being about concerts. My favourite part is “Overcoming a period of confusion, I took those stirring emotions / And hung them up high on the 13 stairs” because there’s also the line “I’ve already had a lethal dose of misfortune / The ruined gallows towers above me” -> WE WENT THROUGH SOME SHIT BUT WE FOUND OURSELVES AND SURPRISE BITCH, BET YOU THOUGHT YOU’D SEEN THE LAST OF ME.” (Cr1: Heresiarchy, Cr2: Defective Tragedy)

Not from my notes directly but I feel like the difference between Bizarre to Juuyonsai no Knife (ie the only two songs about Real juvenile criminals) is a REALLY good representation of how Ruki’s lyrics have changed over the years. He went from taking perspectives of people who perpetrators of violence (to write horror stories, imo, but also to generally Explore their minds through art) to making comments about society and how systems affect people in real life. Not to say he doesn’t write about killers anymore or that social commentary is NEW for him, but just…a big change in what’s PROMINENT.

“Interesting that Wasteland is next, which is about Justice on the Internet. I know Ruki has always been really critical of the internet and the kind of social processes that occur online (see: Nakigahara) and here it’s about morality and justice, but more importantly the way it’s about crowd mindsets and CONTROL. And he just summarises it SO WELL in the first verse: “The thousand eyes that can kill even God / Transform into rebels that lust for control / If the time comes when right and wrong disappear / It will all end with a blood-red moon”. There’s also the line “Innocence gives way to sinful judgment” ie the innocent go along with their ways or it’s the innocent (the weak, as he says later) that are scrutinised. And I think about this a lot considering…some other fandoms I’m in >.>” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(INCUBUS) “The song is a lot of wondering what they did to deserve their trauma and how they want the dreams/nightmares to go away. I do like that at the end of the song they come to the conclusion that they cannot change what happened and decide “fuck the why”, accepting they didn’t deserve it. Even though the narrator is still stuck in the maze (of trauma), the letting go of asking why it happened is like, a really important step in healing. Because it’s the end of self-blame. So, I hope narrator can heal :( “

(DEUX) “My dumbass never realised this but the music of Deux itself has DUALITY. Metal with solo piano. IT REALLY TOOK ME FIVE YEARS TO REALISE THAT HUH. It’s about two conflicting selves (which to me sound more like intrusive thoughts, considering Blemish’s VERY LOUD “These days I’m better dead”) and the effect that has on like, your emotionality and how it leads to loneliness. His use of nightmares in this song is fascinating – the Japanese word he uses (sakayume) is like…a reverse dream, like if a child has a nightmare you tell them it’s a sakayume so it means what happened in their dream definitely won’t happen AND something good will happen instead. And this is something Ruki prays for.”

(Ominous) “The imagery is really dark in this – “A prayer crushed under wreckage / Reflects in your eyes as you start to fly / I see you in the sky thick with shadows / Spinning around with nightmares” – there’s a desperate attempt to fly and get better and do Well but still they’re surrounded by darkness and nightmares, unable to escape. “Don’t forget that a heart cannot die / Don’t forget that dreams aren’t predictions of the future” –There’s hopefulness in a heart not dying yet a very strong despair when he says dreams don’t predict the future, not even reverse dreams. “It steals away my still-unformed future, and whenever I step forth / I can’t see a thing in that shadowed sky / My screaming can’t save anything / when I’m killing myself with sadness” – oh that hurts, that hurts A LOT. He wants to fly but he can’t. This is just SO MUCH. And they didn’t even have an instrumental outro, IT JUST ENDS WITH ACCEPTANCE OF HOPELESSNESS AND DEPRESSION.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“The drums in Goddess uggghhh UGGGHHH. AND THE GUITAR TOOOOOO. Lyrically, this is really a mid-point between depression and healing. It’s A Lot. He writes about his suffering, wanting to make something of his mistakes and his sins and actually WANTING TO LIVE. But it’s so sad that in the end he still feels really helpless – the subtle changes between “I want to become the stars that fill the silence” vs “I can’t become the stars that fill the silence”. But I think that on some level he knows what the next step is. He wishes in the last two lines, “If only I could share my grief that can’t be put to words / If only I could face reality and live accepting my crippling despair”. THAT’S THE FIRST STEP!!!! THAT’S A STEP!!!! TO HEALING!!!! “These bleak thoughts are my sacrifice that will one day begin to thaw into a selfless, smiling heart” – this line is fucking LOADED. Like, he sacrifices his bleak thoughts by expressing them and by making art out of his pain in hopes that he will be able to acknowledge and accept his suffering and his pain as a means to heal, as a way of allowing him to have a selfless and smiling heart. Like, this is SO much of what his art is about and what it has been for SUCH a long time it makes me so emotional that this is what he’s saying about his own lyrics.” I realise too that the goddess is likely the same goddess from Blemish. I’m still unsure what to make of it because Blemish ends in Ruki writing he doesn’t wants to be reborn, and not abandoned. But here he ends with wanting to heal. Wanting to move on and live.

WHICH BRINGS ME TO UNDYING.

“WHEN HE BROUGHT BACK “SLEEP, COUNT ME DOWN AGAIN” >>> God, this song is so powerful. THERE ARE SO MANY CALL-BACKS TO DOGMA. I SHOULD’VE KNOWN THIS BUT STILL. BITCH WHAT THE FUCK. It’s a direct continuation of Ominous (“I won’t arise from this”). I think in this song he’s becoming that figure that is flying in Ominous, and the one that is surrounded by nightmares and shadows – the first verses are about how the future is drenched in misfortune yet we must continue to live (and suffer, but WE CAN AT LEAST BE A BIT HOPEFUL). Ruki says this YET HE IS STILL DREAMING, EVEN AS THE END COMES (“My heart starts to disappear along with the spirit of my words / And though it knew the end was near / It dreamt of things it shouldn’t want / And even now I am still—“). There’s also his mentions of sins again that he continues to drown in :( But overall, this song is really about living despite all the pain, which is really meaningful after Dogma ended on such a note of hopelessness. There’s so much power in this song.” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

“Vacant doesn’t necessarily sound like a romantic relationship breaking down as much as it is about making a mistake and being unable to fix it between you and someone else (or other people), even if Ruki said he wrote it with a band’s image in mind. But the gist is is that there is yet again a struggle within the self (“Self-condemnation distorts the answer / And I lose sight of what I should be / Because of those unconscious actions / I can’t even dream”). The line “In the pain of not being able to tie back the undone thread / The traces left by stopping time keep piling up” really got to me – being stuck in time and constantly wishing for something that was and being hurt by the fact it’s gone is something I personally relate to. But even as the narrator is stuck in time, their grip on the past is loosening – they are forgetting, memories fade, and they lose their strength (“Vacant, you are withering”).” (Cr: Heresiarchy)

(Faling) ““Together, embracing the same pain: it’s only temporary / Don’t forget that this is not the end / So come on, let’s open our eyes and fall / We just believe in ourselves to die / Sometimes it’s okay to be broken” THIS MEANS SO FUCKING MUCH AFTER THE AMOUNT OF TIMES RUKI ENDED DOGMA SONGS WITH HOPELESSNESS AND AT BEST “WE HAVE TO KEEP LIVING AND SUFFERING AND BEING IN PAIN” BUT IN FALLING, PAIN IS TEMPORARY. PAIN IS TEMPORARY. WE WILL HEAL, BITCH. WE WILL GET BETTER, BITCH.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

Can’t find my notes bc it’s somewhere else in my Tumblr drafts but basically: I consider Mortal, Utsusemi and Sono Kore wa Moroku like a Depression Trilogy™ in Ninth. Mortal is about depression, loneliness and loss but like, tying it to a singular person or event in which the narrator felt grief. Utsusemi is about loneliness and depression as well, AND RUKI USES THE CICADA SHELL METAPHOR, WHICH IS THE SAME AS CRUCIFY SORROW (ALSO ABOUT DEPRESSION, BUT SOMEONE ELSE’S). But then, Sono Koe wa Moroku is THE turning point and where he first mentions (in this album) and actual DESIRE to heal and like, ON HIS OWN. IT’S ABOUT BEING STRONG FOR HIMSELF AND THAT MAKES ME SO EMOTIONAL. And as I mentioned before, Falling also ends on a hopeful note about sadness not lasting forever – it’s like he’s prefacing the album with the fact sadness IS temporary and that there IS a turning point.

“Babylon’s Taboo is interesting…so apparently Babylon is a figure of western imperialism and capitalism in the Rastafari movement (an afro-centric anti-capitalist and anti-imperialist movement from Jamaica). The narrator is COMPLETELY aware of the oppression and injustice that goes on around him but confesses to doing nothing. I interpreted this as complacency to violence, which Ruki has written about before. Also, he describes a starry sky (which I presume represents wealth and happiness) as a lie, and that they are actually black eyes that watch and look down upon you. In the context of anti-capitalism, my interpretation is that the ‘guaranteed fate’ he writes about is the life-long struggle to attain wealth and happiness – we are doomed to dedicate our lives to this, futilely, to no end. and there’s nothing we can do about it. Another line that stood out to me most is “all I need is sanity but uncertainty will do”. this, along with the rest of the song, implies that the narrator is PRETTY DAMN SURE that we’re all fucked so like....HAHA COOL.” (Cr: Defective Tragedy)

(Two of a Kind) Okay so…another motif I noticed in this album is an I and a You. And I know this sounds weird considering almost EVERY SINGLE GAZETTE SONG uses first and second pronouns, but mental health is SUCH a prominent, overarching theme in a way no album concept has been before, hence why I’m saying this. Two of a Kind is really solidifying this for me, but they appear in almost every song (but the You is known as ‘she’ in The Mortal). This pair are connected in an extremely emotionally intimate way. For one, they share pain and understand each other’s pain. Secondly, the narrator falls into depression after they’re gone. A part of me thinks it could be a past self and a current self, considering Ruki’s said this album involved the Most introspection from him and Falling writes about sins and past mistakes again. So, it could be a way of separating a past and current self – a past self that was perhaps lost, and made mistakes, but ultimately creates his current self.

But it could also be another person, as this You figure is also a source of light – someone Ruki shares his wounds with, in Two of a Kind. If it’s another person, it may also make sense that the depression and loneliness written about in The Mortal and Utsusemi is triggered by someone extremely close leaving him. Either way, it is this understanding and connection between the I and the You that also bring hope for the future and I REALLY love the way that hope is conveyed in the chorus of Two of a Kind. There’s so much light in it compared to the parts of the song where ruki calls himself filthy and ugly, and when he writes about negative feelings that never go away and bleed into this other person. but i think this other person understands it, and that’s why he can move on.

“Abhor God is a REALLY dark and heavy take on MOVING FORWARD. Like there’s so much rage in the way he writes about killing his lust, pride and anxiety and stringing up his nightmares in a noose, yet so much power in how he moves forward and sings victory with his music and his art. This is likely connected to Ninth Odd Smell and Uragiru Bero - where he writes about the band’s history and his imposter syndrome as an artist despite the band never going to die just because of that. He contrasts ‘too fast to live’ and ‘too young to die’ like, he’s really in a sort of purgatory where he’s constantly making too many mistakes to be happy but has too much to do for him to give up. So it’s here that he chooses to keep going no matter how weak the beat is. Imagery-wise this feels like.....continuing to live not because you have happiness to look forward to but just out of sheer willpower. Like it’s just so angry. Angry at the world, at yourself, but carrying that anger to try to be better and move forward.”

“And Unfinished is about the fans being his reasons to live and IT MAKES ME VERY EMOTIONAL THAT THIS IS HOW THE ALBUM ENDS!!!!!!! WITH HOPE!!!!! AND MOVING FORWARD!!!!! THEY LITERALLY ENDED THEIR ALBUM THAT’S ABOUT THEM ‘MAKING THEIR MARK ON THEIR WORLD’ WITH LIGHT AND HOPE AFTER LIKE TWO STRAIGHT ALBUMS OF /DEPRESSION/. EVERYBODY GO HOME WE LOVE HEALING IN THIS HOUSE.”

AND THAT’S THE END FOLKS!!!! if you made it here thank you so much for reading my ramblings and i appreciate u so so much <3 i hope you learned something new about the gazette’s music (i sure did - it’s why i went on this marathon in the first place!!) and again i have a list of posts i might write (which will definitely be shorter than these) so! yeah! anyway!! it’s past 11pm and i have no more brain cells. thanks again love ya have a good day/night <3 <3

#the gazette #gazetto #ruki #uruha #aoi #reita #the gazette kai #kai #the gazette ruki #the gazette uruha #the gazette aoi #the gazette reita #why am i tagging this #anyway i just want to say #i tried to stream bts' new song while putting this together #but i physically COULD NOT #the dissonance was too much #anw i love dynamite it's such a great serotonin boost haha <3

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four-loose-screws · 5 years ago

Text

Fire Emblem 10 Drama CD Translation - Complete and Edited!

FE Game Script Translations - FE Novel Translations - Original FE Support Conversations - Ko-fi

Hey everyone, I was lucky enough to be given a written script for this entire CD and some advice on mistranslations, so be sure to check this post out, even if you read my original posts for this CD!

———————————

Introduction

*Opens with sounds of combat: grunts, yells, weapons clashing, etc., w/ focus on Ike’s voice.*

Daein Soldier: Gaaaah!

Ike: Haaaa!

Soren: Haaa!

Ike: Hi-yaaaah!

Daein Soldier: Retreat!

Soren: After them!

*sounds of retreating Daein soldiers’ footsteps*

Ike: *walks towards Micaiah* You are... the Priestess of Dawn.

Micaiah: And you are General Ike, yes? Sothe told me about you.

Ike: You are important to him, so I do not want to fight.

Micaiah: And you took care of him, so I feel the same way. However…

Ike: Daein has no intention of withdrawing.

Micaiah: No.

Ike: Then… *unsheathes sword* We have no choice but to fight.

*sounds of combat gradually become louder once more, then fade into music*

Ike’s voice: Fire Emblem: Radiant Dawn Drama CD:

Ike & Micaiah’s voices: Clash of Heroic Ideals!

(T/N: a more literal translation of the title: “The Unshakeable Ideals of the Rival Leaders")

Scene I

*sounds of general army camp activity: people talking, weapons clashing in sparring matches, etc.*

Soren: The Laguz troops had very high morale.

Ike: Yeah. They believe in Ranulf’s words.

Soren: I think he’s changed a bit from before, too.

Ike: *laughs* Oh, Skrimir? Do you still hate him?

Soren: Of course I do. He’s the type that I’m worst with. He thinks that battle is won by strength alone.

Ike: Don’t say that! He’s a candidate for the next king of Gallia. And King Caineghis decided to make him the general of their army, right?

Soren: *chuckles* You talk as if you’ve become his father.

Ike: Ah…? Hey, of course I haven’t! But you are one to laugh at something like that.

Soren: Ike, you’re becoming more and more like Commander Greil.

Ike: So even you’ve said that now. The people we’ve reunited with from three years ago have been telling me the same thing. Jeez… Every last one of them...

Soren: I’m just fondly watching over you as you grow.

Ike: Hey! Now you’re the one acting like you’ve become a father!

Soren: Someday… you might understand what that means.

Ike: Hm? *turns closer towards Soren* What did you just say?

Soren: Nothing. But there’s one more reason why a frontal attack is dangerous. As I mentioned earlier, I’m concerned about Daein’s movements.

Ike: Of course... However you look at it, our army is more powerful. Is the empire forcing them to fight, like you said?

Titania: *walks up* Hey you two, we’re going to get ready to deploy now.

Ike: Titania! Okay, got it.

Soren: About that, I have a suggestion based on our current situation. Ike, please tell me your thoughts about it.

Ike: Hm?

Scene II

*sounds of general army camp activity: people talking, weapons clashing in sparring matches, etc.*

Micaiah: *sigh*

Sothe: Can I say what you’re thinking, Micaiah?

Micaiah: Sothe?

Sothe: You’re wondering why Prince Pelleas is doing something like this... Or maybe about why he’s cooperating with the empire… Right?

Micaiah: *giggles* Shall I try to guess what you’re thinking about?

Sothe: W-What?

Micaiah: You respect Ike, commander of the Greil Mercenaries, so you don’t really want to fight him… Am I right?

Sothe: *gasps*

Micaiah: Well?

Sothe: You’re half right, half wrong. I don’t want to fight him, but if you’ve decided to, then it’s another story. I won’t waver. I’d make anyone my enemy.

Micaiah: You’re pushing yourself, aren’t you?

Sothe: I’m not! *sits down* Surely Commander Ike should understand, too. Like I said, he’s a hero who can face any enemy and fight them at full strength. So if I must risk my life and fight for you, then he wouldn’t be against that.

Micaiah: *giggles* Even in those words… I can hear your respect and affection for him.

Sothe: ...Ah!

Micaiah: *giggles* Sorry. I’m joking around. *draws closer to Sothe* Sothe… you’ve gotten much stronger.

Sothe: Of course! Even if you leave out the fact that I fought in the previous war, three years have passed. I’m not a child.

Micaiah: Mmm.... I’m really happy. With how you’ve grown...

Sothe: Micaiah…

*running footsteps start quiet, then get louder*

Daein Soldier #1: *panting* The enemy front line! They're here!

Sothe: *gasps*

Micaiah: Understood. Shall we go, too?

Sothe: Yes.

*army cheers for Micaiah*

Daein Soldier #2: The Priestess of Dawn has returned!

Daein Soldier #3: Victory will be ours!

Daein Soldier #4: Glory be to Daein!

Daein Soldier #5: The Priestess of Dawn!

Scene III

*sounds of combat can be faintly heard in the background throughout this scene* Ike: Teeeeh-reyah! *swings sword*

Daein Soldier: Gaaaaaahhhh! *collapses*

Ike: *takes a deep breath and sheaths his sword* They’re no doubt a small army… yet expertly commanded.

Sothe: *approaches Ike* Commander Ike…

Ike: Sothe… You’ve gotten taller. ...That’s right, you’re from Daein, aren’t you?

Sothe: You remembered!

Ike: Did you find who you were looking for?

Sothe: Yeah. She’s this army’s current general.

Ike: ...The Priestess of Dawn, huh?

Sothe: Her name is Micaiah. Stop calling her by that absurd alias. Commander… I… *turns around* didn’t want to reunite with you like this!

Ike: Yet… you have no intention of withdrawing, do you?

Sothe: No.

Ike: If you’re prepared to make her to continue on alone… then come at me! If you’re not ready yet, then don’t come near me. I’m not so soft that I’ll hold back on the battlefield!

Sothe: Ah… Still, Commander… I have no choice but to fight you! Ahhhhhhhhhh! *runs forward*

*weapons clash*

Ike: You’ve gotten a little stronger! But… *weapons clash* do you really think such a light blow will hurt me!?

Sothe: Ah!

Ike: Hoooooooo!

Micaiah: *runs in* Oh guiding light… lead us forward, and destroy the obstacles standing in our way!

*light magic spell sounds*

Ike: Gah!

Sothe: Micaiah!

Micaiah: You attacked Ike… Perhaps it’s because I’ve heard so much about you from Sothe… but it doesn’t feel like we’re meeting for the first time.

Ike: I have nothing against either of you personally… You came before me as enemies. I won’t go easy on you!

Micaiah: Thank you… If you’ll do that for us, then we’ll fight our full strength as well!

Sothe: Let’s go, Micaiah! We’ll take him down together!

*wind blows*

Soren: I will be your opponent! Elwind!

*strong wind slices through the air*

Sothe: You! So you’re still by the commander’s side, like always!?

Soren: Of course. I will always be near him.

*Ike unsheathes sword*

*weapons clash, magic spells fly through the air*

Micaiah: Shine!

*Shine spell sounds*

Ike: Hiiiii-rrryaaaaah!

Micaiah: *gasps* But I hit him…

Ike: Sorry, but I don’t train like other people do. There’s no one to protect you here! This is your final chance! Retreat!

Micaiah: I… *pants, then collapses* can’t!

Sothe: *gasps* Micaiah! *runs towards her*

*teleporting woosh noises*

Black Knight: Ha! *swings weapon, then starts walking forwards*

Sothe: The Black Knight...!

Black Knight: Maiden, are you alright?

Micaiah: S-Sir Knight...

Sothe: Gah... Now! *runs*

Soren: Tch… Wait!

Sothe: *sits down* Micaiah!

Micaiah: Sothe… I-I’m sorry… I did it again...

Black Knight: It seems that she’s used too much of her power. Get her away from here.

Sothe: O-Okay. *picks up Micaiah and runs off*

Ike: Even if I try to run after them, you’ll get in my way, won’t you?

Black Knight: Of course. I was once one of Daein’s Four Riders.

Ike: So you did survive.

Black Knight: Did you really think you could kill me with the strength you had then?

Ike: Hm, did I? But I never thought that one victory could free my heart of need for vengeance that haunts it!

Black Knight: That’s good news. My armor lost it’s blessing after that fight.

Ike: Then I will defeat you again this time! *unsheathes sword*

Black Knight: Alright then… *readies sword* You may come at me!

Ike: Grrrrraaaaaaahhhhh!! *swings sword*

Scene IV

Sothe: *panting and running*

Micaiah: *gasps for air*

Sothe: We should be safe here for a moment… Micaiah… Hang in there!

Micaiah: Gah… *pants* Sothe… I… lost consciousness again?

Sothe: Yeah, you did... but there’s no enemies around here. You can rest easy.

Micaiah: No… I am a general of Daein… I can’t leave the front line...

Sothe: But because you’re a general, it’ll mean the end if you die first!

Micaiah: ...Sothe… I must… protect everyone…

Sothe: Daein is certainly my precious homeland. But it’s nothing to me compared to you! I will protect you! Even if it means I make an enemy of my country… or the world!

Micaiah: ...Sothe… Ah…

Sothe: Micaiah!! ...Have you fainted again…? Alright then, I’ll use this chance to get us away from the battlefield! *runs off*

Scene V

*sounds of combat between Ike and the Black Knight*

Black Knight: You’ve gotten stronger.

Ike: So have you. You’re even stronger than you were three years ago.

Black Knight: At that time, only my spirit and armor warped. Now, I am in my own body. Of course there would be a gap in my power.

Ike: I see… so that’s how you survived…

Daein Soldier #1: The Black Knight has appeared!

Daein Soldier #2: This is our only chance to attack the enemy general!

Soren: Ike, the enemy soldiers are gathering here!

Ike: Are you telling me to retreat!? It’s no use trying to talk me out of this! Tee-ryaaaaah! *swings weapon*

Black Knight: Haa-yaaaaaah!

*weapons clash*

Daein Soldier: Ready your bows! Shoot the enemy general!

*soldiers draw and fire arrows*

Ike: What!?

*arrows fall*

Black Knight: *raises weapon* This is the end for you...

Ike: Haaah!

*weapons clash*

Ike: *falls*

Black Knight: Prepare yourself! *raises weapon*

Soren: Ike! *runs* You’re the only person I won’t let be killed! *throws himself in front of Ike*

Black Knight: Are you trying to get yourself killed? Even if you try to risk your own life for him, you cannot change his death.

Soren: No matter what… I will protect Ike! Ike… I don’t think you remember… that we met once when we were young, but... At that time, I thought my life to be short… and that I couldn’t be saved, so I was only awaiting my death. But you saved me… one of the Branded, discriminated against by both Beorc and Laguz. That is why I will always be by your side and protect you… no matter what!

Black Knight: So you will go together with him...? That’s fine. Hmmmm! *swings sword*

Titania: *horse gallops into the scene* Haaaaaah! *swings weapon, horse stops and neighs* I won’t let you kill any more of the people precious to me!

Soren: Titania! You made it!?

Titania: Yes! We successfully hit the enemy from their weak spot! We overwhelmed them from behind, and I was able to bring reinforcements, too!

*reinforcements yell out battle cries in the distance*

Ike: Guh… Ah… *sits up*

*sounds of combat begin in the distance*

Ike: Did I… Ah... lose consciousness?

Soren: Ike! *kneels down* Are you okay!?

Ike: Yeah. *stands* Sorry for troubling you.

Soren: No… you could never… I...

Ike: ...Are you… crying?

Soren: Ah… no… I wouldn’t… It’s okay. I’m fine.

Ike: Alright then, let’s do this! *lifts sword* Fight with us, Titania!

Titania: Yes! This is an opportunity to show off the power of the Greil Mercenaries! *horse neighs and begins to gallop*

Black Knight: What are you planning…?

Titania: Heee-yah! *horse gallops up to Black Knight, Titania swings her weapon*

*weapons clash*

Black Knight: Gah! Female knight… Are you providing a distraction for them?!

Titania: Well, can you afford to get distracted!?

Black Knight: That is a foolish hope!

*weapons clash*

Soren: By the power of my wind magic… this brave soldier will be sent flying towards the heavens! *casts wind spell that propels Ike into the air*

Ike: Hoooooo-aaaaaaah!

Black Knight: Hm!?

Ike: This is… the end! *swings weapon*

Black Knight: Gah!? *falls over*

Soren: Yes! We did it, Ike!

Ike: *gasps for air* Yeah!

Black Knight: *rises* Tch... I see… You've gotten stronger. But I didn’t think you could have gotten this much stronger… Let’s stop here for now. I would hate to end our fight in one go.

Ike: I feel the same. You can challenge me any time. Whatever the circumstances, I’d accept a fight against you!

Black Knight: *steps towards Soren*

Soren: ...Um… What do you want with me…?

Black Knight: You are the same as I… You’ve found someone to live with. Though it will one day end in tragedy.

Soren: Ah!

Black Knight: And Micaiah… she, too, is on the same path.

Ike: I don’t know what you’re trying to say, but the Priestess of Dawn, Sothe, you, us… we are all simply living our lives to the fullest for what we believe in.

Titania: That’s right! Though we struggle with difficult trials and tragic fates, we have no choice but to continue on through our fears.

Ike: Yeah. All we can do... is continue on as we always have!

Black Knight: Is that so? Then let us meet again, *steps away* son of Gawain. *teleports away*

Scene VI

*cheering, sounds of combat*

Ike’s Army Soldier #1: We did it!

Ike’s Army Soldier #2: Victory is ours!

Ike’s Army Soldier #3: Long live General Ike!!

*hawk Laguz screeches*

Sothe: They have beasts and hawks among their reinforcements...!

Micaiah: Even the Bird Tribe of Phoenicis is here? Begnion didn’t tell us anything about that...

Sothe: We’ve been had…. Commander Ike’s army was a diversion.

Micaiah: At this rate, the number of sacrifices will only increase… Let’s retreat for now.

Sothe: The Daein soldiers will probably say that they still want to fight.

Micaiah: I can’t afford to let them die for no reason. At this time, we have no choice but to retreat.

Sothe: ...I understand. Let’s go relay the message to the entire army.

Micaiah: Hey, Sothe… That man… General Ike… He was just like you told me. Strong… noble… considerate of those around him… but also always able to calmly understand the state of the current battle. He’s everything a general should be...

Sothe: Micaiah…

Micaiah: I don’t have the strength, nor the virtues that he has… But I will protect Daein!

Sothe: Mm…

Micaiah: Sothe? Shall I try to guess what you are thinking right now?

Sothe: Oh…?

Micaiah: “I want there to come a day when Commander Ike and I can understand each other.” ...Right?

Sothe: *gasps* Th-That’s…

Micaiah: *giggles* I’m joking. But… thank you. It would be a good thing, if that day were to come…

*Music gradually gets louder and plays for about ~20 secs longer to conclude the CD. Bird chirping can be heard throughout the song.*

#fire emblem #fe10 #fe #radiant dawn #nintendo #wii #japan #japanese #translation #drama cd #ike #soren #micaiah #sothe #titania #black knight

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oveliagirlhaditright · 4 years ago

Text

I maybe have this crazy theory about animation style when it comes to Kingdom Hearts that I’m still working on (so there are probably holes. And it even probably means nothing), but...

So, HMK--and I even theorized this part in the past, before I heard his theory--has the theory that Sora, the Master of Masters, and Yozora are all the same person (kind of. But not in, like, a Sora and Roxas way) from different universes.

I feel the Sora and Yozora one is kind of obvious--as to how people would think that--and doesn’t need much explaining... but I’ll do a little bit here, anyway. Both of them have a name that means “sky” (”night sky” in Yozora’s case. And Nomura named them as opposites for a reason). And they both fight on Sora’s heart station... and the only other time that’s happened in the series, is when Sora fought Roxas (his Other). And at the end of the secret episode, both Sora and Yozora are thinking the same thing (but what ending you get changes who says what): “I’ve been having these weird thoughts lately... like, is any of this for real or not. None of this makes sense to me.” So there’s clearly something connecting them.

As for Sora and the Master of Masters, they have some of the same mannerisms and way of speaking (Ray Chase also kind of sounds like an older Sora, but that might not be here nor there). They’re both kind of arrogant and prideful, tbh, and the Master of Masters kind of seems like a jaded Sora (kind of like how Yozora might seem like a darker Sora).

...We don’t have too much to link Yozora and the Master of Masters yet (except for maybe the eye thing? The Master of Masters is missing an eye, and Yozora has two that are different colors. Could one--the red one--be fake, because he’s missing his other blue eye ala the Master of Masters?), but maybe we will in the future. And maybe thinking Sora could = Yozora and Sora could = the Master of Masters could be enough to see Yozora = the Master of Masters, then, for now. Oh! And as HMK pointed out, most of us assume that the Master of Masters’ name is “Superbia” (meaning pride)--to go with the Foretellers and Luxu’s seven deadly sins name--and the term “X-Super” even appears on the black box. And HMK looked it up, and apparently Superbia can be translated to meaning “above something” or “above everything” (going off of memory here). And what’s above everything? The sky. So maybe he has a name that’s related to the sky that way, too.

But part of the reason HMK thinks all three of them might be connected, is all three of them potentially being tied to the sky. Yozora is for sure night sky, by his name... And HMK believes that Yozora came from the first universe (as the Master of Masters says there have been Keyblade Wars before the one we see in KHUX), that got destroyed and recreated as the Master of Master’s universe... and Yozora’s heart was reincarnated into the Master of Masters... who is daybreak sky after night sky before him, which works with “Daybreak Town” at all. And that the sky in Back Cover certainly isn’t the night sky, but it isn’t bright like midday sky or anything like that... This universe is destroyed in the Keyblade War, and Yozora/the Master of Masters’ heart is reincarnated in Sora: midday sky. And HMK thinks this even kind of goes in line with some of Nomura’s I.5, II.5, II.8, and III’s sky artwork, that Nomura said would be important.

...Now comes my theory with all of this (that may or may not be true. But probably isn’t). I think the reason that the Verum Rex stuff looks the realist out of any KH graphics we’ve seen, is because it’s the “realist” when compared to our real world--with that kind of darkness and all--and is why Yozora is “night sky”. And I was going to say that Back Cover looks the second realist, because it’s still bad... but maybe not as bad as Yozora’s was, and getting closer to the cutesy “Age of Fairytales” one. But KHX/KHUX itself having that cutesy-wootsy “age of fairytales” style might ruin this, unless once the universe was reset... it became that fluffy, but then began to fall again and became what we saw in Back Cover (or maybe the projections from the Book of Prophecies was affecting it -shrugs-). Then the universe was reset once again (though each time it seems to get “lighter”, including the sky itself... and I mean that literally, and with these “Soras”, maybe), and we get the cute style we get in KH proper, with the Disney characters in their proper timeline and all... And I don’t think there’s a story reason that the style suddenly changes in KHIII... but if there is, maybe it’s so Sora looks more “real”, as he’s about to deal with the more “real” looking other selves. As for Dark Road... perhaps the adorable style is to show how Xehanort once looked like that, but we’ll get more game proper graphics when he begins to go bad.

...This is all speculation. And the animation style stuff probably isn’t canon at all. But then again, Nomura’s made gameplay mechanics canon to the story before. So I’m just going to post this, on the crazy chance I end up being somewhat right someday.

Edit: And actually, I think my theory even works without the “Sora is totally both Yozora and the Master of Masters!” thing, if you just believe Yozora’s world was the first one in the timeline, then the Master of Masters’, and then Sora’s.

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thehangeddemon · 5 years ago

Text

The Truth in the Frame || Maximus & Xavier

Maximus: Finally, a radio in the house. The mansion felt whole with music. His master had been generous to allow him a radio in the kitchen. He wouldn't dare ask for a record player in his bedroom, though. Not for some time.

A fresh cigarette was brought to his rose-colored lips, left to dangle while he cleaned the rifles and sang under his breath.

"Show me the way to go home. I'm tired and I want to go to bed. I had a little drink about an hour ago, and it went right to my head..."

Xavier: Maximus could've asked for a record player in solid gold and Xavier would've found it for him. He was still very much determined to get his butler to indulge in the finer things in life.

Just like Xavier himself was currently doing by going through every last book in the library and ridding himself of every volume he deemed inferior.

The pile of discards contained more of those wretched obscure novels Eisley had been so obsessed with. The damn things seemed to be multiplying.

Maximus: Hearing a book fall in the library caught his attention. Looking up from the barrel of an antique, looking out towards the hallway as though he could somehow see what was going on from the other side of the dining table.

He disappeared, reappearing in the doorway of the library, hands behind his back to hide his cigarette.

"Are you alright, m'lord?"

Xavier: Xavier's hair was far too tousled for a man that had simply been going through books but it was a reflection of his frustration.

"Who needs five copies of Lolita!? It's not a rare, priceless work of which precious few copies exist, it was published only last year!"

Maximus: "Are they first editions?" he frowned. Smoke began to appear over his head.

Xavier: "Only one, the rest are copies you could get at any bookshop in the country! In the world even! Did he really need that many tomes devoted to some man fucking a child? Or was it simply because Nabakov is Russian and he was obsessed with Russians?"

He paused his tirade as he noticed and smelled the smoke. "You know, Fairchild, as a former smoker and still occasional smoker and demon with a supernatural sense of smell, there really is no need to hide your habit."

Maximus: Slowly, firmly, his cheek was bitten into, if only to withhold his smile. There was something about his master's rants, and the precious fact that he was not their target, which absolutely humored him to his core.

And the mention of his habit caused him to duck his head, which did nothing but highlight his fought smile.

"M'lord." Thank you. His hands were brought from hiding. "The first editions will be worth money someday. I promise you that. The rest can be kindle."

Xavier: "I can steal a first edition in fifty years and get the money then. For now...." He tossed the book in his hand on the discard pile. "Lucifer deliver me from the Russians. This obsession of his wasn't limited to Nabakov. You see this?"

He pointed to two stacks on the table. "Four copies of War and Peace and six—six!—of Anna Karenina! Why!?"

Maximus: "What was he looking for exactly?" He crossed the library in search of the first editions. Each were placed in a separate pile out of his master's reach.

Xavier: "Meaning? Companionship? Enlightenment? Hell only knows."

Maximus would have to work fast, Xavier was prepared to throw everything into the fireplace.

Maximus: With his master's back turned, the small stack of first editions were brought to his room in a blink, left on his nightstand. He'd returned just as quickly, and set to task collecting everything else. The rest would be for the fire. He'd much rather burn them in the driveway.

"Canapes this evening, or a crown roast? Either way, I'd like to practice mixing martinis."

Xavier: Xavier quit frowning at the bookshelves the moment Maximus mentioned canapés.

“Does canapés mean pastry? Because if so then yes. Yes to the martinis as well.”

Maximus: "I was thinking along the lines of smoked salmon mousse on cucumber and deviled eggs, but - I should have known you would want pastry." His toy soldier smiled towards the fire. His cigarette was brought to his lips to cease such nonsense.

Xavier: “Is both an option or is that pushing my luck?” he asked with a smile.

Maximus: "Whatever you desire I'll give you."

Xavier: “In that case, I would like to put in a request for pastry along with those deviled eggs.”

Maximus: "A vol au vent? Mine are usually lopsided."

Xavier: “There is no wrong way to consume puff pastry.”

Maximus: "Then I shall take care that your belief remains after this evening."

Xavier: “I’m certain it wi—more War and Peace! That’s it we’re destroying the library.”

Maximus: "Come now." The ridiculous pile of books had created a small hill in the hall. He crossed the library with the aim of stealing War and Peace from his master's hands.

"When you told me you wanted Russian literature gone, I had assumed - wrongly - you meant in the Russian language. This is my fault. I'll see to this myself."

Xavier: “I did! That’s exactly what I meant! I thought that’s all there was to this obsession of his! I never would have or could have imagined this!” He gestured wildly with the book. “No wonder he let the mansion fall into such disrepair, he was busy hoarding Tolstoy novels.”

Maximus: "We all have our obsessions. Some more tasteful than others." Gently, he reached around for the book, taking it from his line of sight.

Xavier: He let his butler take the book without argument. “You know those hidden compartments and alcoves he had? Forget supernatural objects, they’re probably full of vodka and nesting dolls.”

Maximus: "We'll find the body of his secret Russian wife eventually," he smiled. An expression which had loosened...somewhat, since his arrival.

Xavier: “Maybe that’s the reason for the obsession. Keep an eye out for remains.”

Maximus: "And scratching, yes. And hidden rooms and runaway vodka."

Xavier: “And the nesting dolls.”

Maximus: His butler ducked his head to conceal how fond his smile was becoming. So far, his master had remained true to his word. While there had been those before him to have made promises, Xavier Atlas had his humanity on his side. Something which, even if subconsciously, had eased some of the tension in his rigid frame.

His cold cigarette was given a glance.

"I should get back to work on the rifles, m'lord. Dinner will be at seven."

Xavier: The reduction in tension hadn't gone unnoticed, but just now all Xavier could think about was the state of this library.

He did see that smile though. That was something cheerful to cling to in the midst of all this madness.

"I'll be down promptly. One of these days perhaps we'll have ourselves a priest hunt. That's something to look forward to."

Maximus: "You're only saying that because Mr. Eisley isn't around to kill again."

Xavier: "And oh, how I wish he was today. I'd bring him back and drown him in dust and Russian novels."

Maximus: Ah. Maximus needed his quick bow and disappearance act. Otherwise, his master would have caught him in a sudden fluttery laugh, one which he expelled in the kitchen.

Xavier: Xavier entertained himself for a few glorious moments with the thought of killing that tasteless hack all over again in a variety of scenarios.

"If only," he said to himself with a wistful sigh before getting back to throwing books on his pile.

Maximus: The guns were returned to their respective stands and mounts. One more polished mark of pride. Another cigarette was ignited. The radio volume was increased to better dampen the sound of his singing. The music of today wasn't nearly as tasteful as the jazz and ragtime behind them.

Xavier: At some point during Xavier's frenzied book throwing, it occurred to him to start a list of all the titles missing from the library that he wanted to add.

In his view, there was a shameful omission of all the British greats. Not to mention the rest of the world. What sort of library didn't have a single copy of Hamlet?

Maximus: Maximus was blissfully unaware of his master's continued frenzy, having assumed he had quelled some of his rage. He was too busy with dinner, singing Chattanooga Choo-Choo to himself in almost full voice, hindered by the cigarette between his lips he refused to put out. Deviled eggs and chicken pesto vol au vents.

They needed a proper garden and chicken coop. The yard had been cleaned, but the house was not yet complete. One item at a time, he reminded himself.

Xavier: Xavier paused his furious scribbling and turned toward the door. Was that Maximus' voice?

He put down his pen and paper and listened intently. He could hear the radio downstairs, the steady sound of a knife hitting a cutting board, the movements of a meal being prepared, and over it all, Maximus. Singing.

Moving as silently as a spirit, he made his way toward the door and poked his head out.

Maximus: His nasally timbre bled into his singing, though somehow clear of rasp otherwise present in the mumbling of songs. He would have kicked himself had he known what his master was doing. Rather, chopped chicken, onions, and butter made it to the heated pan.

Xavier: Xavier had at least some suspicion that that was exactly how his butler would react if he knew he'd been caught singing, so rather than get closer and risk discovery, he stayed where he was. It was...nice, to see Maximus relaxing. Even if it was only in private.

Maximus: A quick check of the time. Not yet for the pastry. The filling was removed from the heat.

Dinner would be on time, as it was every night. He had pulled the pastry from the refrigerator too soon. Only the choicest towering pieces, filled to the brim, were presented at the dining table. A white wine was served alongside in their new crystal.

Xavier: Having indulged himself, Xavier returned to his task, smiling the entire time. That rage over the Russian novel infestation was lessening by the moment.

By the time he went downstairs for dinner he was positively cheerful.

Maximus: His servant stood patiently by the table. He smiled in greeting.

"A successful evening, m'lord?"

Xavier: "Extremely," said Xavier, beaming as he sat and unfolded his napkin on his lap. "The small hill has become a small mountain and I've started a list."

Maximus: "I expect we'll be going to another store soon," he said while pouring the wine.

Xavier: "Probably more than one if the bookshop in town doesn't have all the volumes I require to get the library up to snuff."

Maximus: "Only in English?"

Xavier: "English, French, Spanish, German, and Italian."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord." The bottle was placed away, and he returned to his standing position.

Xavier: Xavier sampled the wine and gave an approving hum. "Mmm, good choice. And the pastry looks beautiful."

Maximus: Of course these do. "Thank you, m'lord. Just a little patience was required."

Xavier: "Like with many of the worthy things in life." He selected a vol au vent and tasted it, a huge grin immediately breaking out across his face.

Well done, it said.

Maximus: That was...what he wanted to see. Something more than a satisfactory job and making it another night in peace. This was more significant. A smile of a job well done stroked his ego.

Aware of his master's penchant for conversation, he continued. "Which titles are you considering?"

Xavier: Mouth full, Xavier pulled his list from his pocket and offered it before pointing at the nearest chair.

Maximus: Moments like these, despite how many there had been for the past weeks, still rendered him awkward. He took the offered seat without protest and unfolded the list.

"I'm expecting to find Dante Alighieri."

Xavier: Xavier nodded and ate another vol au vent. Of course. Heaven, Hell, and Purgatory.

Maximus: "As much as you are straying from Russian anythings, might I make a suggestion?"

Xavier: Another nod. "Anyone but Tolstoy."

Maximus: "Have you heard of Ayn Rand, m'lord?"

Xavier: "I kept getting distracted during The Fountainhead. She does love to ramble on."

Maximus: "He reminds me of you."

Xavier: "Because I live to spite God?"

Maximus: His gaze fell, but only for a moment. "In a Hell filled with Peter Keatings."

Xavier: Xavier gave Maximus a small smile and reached into his pocket for his pen. "Go on then, add the rambling Russian. English translation only."

Maximus: And so he would, writing the title and author in quick fluid cursive.

"What are your thoughts, m'lord, on having a chicken coop?"

Xavier: “As a lover of omelets and chicken Marsala, very favorable.”

Maximus: Excellent. Less shopping in town and efficiency once his garden bore evidence of his labor.

He suddenly felt an urge to play his violin. He wanted to give his master something more than the day-to-day.

"Would you like some more wine?" he asked instead.

Xavier: "Why, yes, thank you. Pour one for yourself and join me."

Maximus: "I...have my dinner in the kitchen, m'lord." Though he would pour an extra glass of wine to comply.

Xavier: "Bring it and have it in the dining room," he said, smile softening a bit.

Maximus: Gently, he sighed. If he didn't know better, he could fool himself into hearing a plea in his master's tone, as though their roles had reversed.

He excused himself, returning with a plate of equally filled...and considerably lopsided pastry, deviled eggs, and filling on toast.

"The illusion is destroyed."

Xavier: "What illusion?" Asked around another blissful mouthful of pastry. "I promise I will try the deviled eggs, I just have an extreme weakness for pastry. Must be the Englishman in me."

Maximus: Then...have a leaning tower of pesto, he offered, slowly taking one of his master's paprika covered eggs. A trade.

Xavier: Leaning perhaps, but perfectly magnificent, as Xavier's face clearly reflected. If he wasn't certain Maximus would turn the color of the paprika on those eggs, Xavier would be raining praise.

Maximus: Maximus contentedly ate in silence. In the supposed safety of the Atlas home, his rigidity of the Plaza lapsed in the form of open-faced sandwich making. Carefully and quietly cutting his deviled eggs to suitable size for two pieces of garlic toast. Having requested a servant dine with him, he might as well eat as he would in private.

"You never cease to surprise me, m'lord." Said after a sip of sauvignon blanc.

Xavier: Xavier thought nothing of Maximus' sandwich making; in fact, he welcomed it. The way he saw things, every small bit of relaxation and comfort from his butler just meant that he was beginning to trust his surroundings--and him--more and more.

He smiled at the comment. "Do I?" he asked, finally trying an egg and humming in approval.

Maximus: "Yes," he said, keeping his head up as he spoke. "Tomorrow, this might be for naught. Tomorrow you might burn everything I possess. You might take back everything you've told me. I've been gullible with you. I've been through the hands of many owners, and still," he shrugged, "and still I'm here, enjoying myself."

Xavier: "I'm glad that you are," he said softly. "I know that it's far too soon to scrub those thoughts from your head, but I am glad you're enjoying yourself. I hope to make that a permanent condition for you."

He took a sip of wine. "What would you say to putting a record player in here?"

Maximus: He would have told any servant that appeared in the summons this exact line.

He had reached for his glass and paused. "A record player? That would...be lovely, m'lord."

Xavier: "I thought so. A grand, beautiful one to fit the room. And one for the sitting room as well."

Maximus: His smile revealed teeth. "Then we must also find you the best records."

Xavier: He smiled back. "Yes we must. Which ones are you fond of?"

Maximus: There he went again.

"I...enjoy...jazz, m'lord, and classical."

Xavier: “Then we shall get your favorites from both genres.”

Maximus: "What do you prefer?"

Xavier: “I’m fond of jazz and classical myself. Especially Tchaikovsky, ironically enough.”

Maximus: "I'm partial to Paganini, Vivaldi, Bazzini...Glenn Miller."

Xavier: “We’ll get them all. I’m rather fond of Glenn Miller myself. Benny Goodman as well.”

Maximus: His smile began to fade. "In New York, you told Mr. Aello you're not musically inclined. Is that true, m'lord?"

Xavier: “As far as playing ability, yes. I tried learning the piano once and was vastly disappointed that I didn’t immediately turn into Chopin.”

Maximus: "No one wants to be Chopin. Not even Chopin."

Xavier: Xavier laughed. “God and the Devil love the man. He played and composed like a piano murdered his entire family.”

Maximus: "Bazzini wanted to prove he was better than Paganini. They either sold their souls or were nephilim."

Xavier: “Seems like Bazzini had a complex. He probably sold his soul.”

Maximus: His servant suddenly ducked his chin and nibbled absently at his dinner.

"Did you...sell your soul?"

Xavier: He shook his head. “Not in the traditional way. My soul was always bound for the pit. There was no need to expedite the process.”

Maximus: "Over revenge?"

Xavier: He nodded. “It’s said that any man who pursues vengeance should dig two graves, one for himself and one for his enemy. I dug many, many graves.”

Maximus: "Was the revenge honorable?" For some reason he was looking for excuses.

Xavier: "To me it was. But as I was the one exacting it, perhaps I'm biased."

Maximus: "Most likely, m'lord, but one day perhaps, I shall hear your reasoning."

Xavier: "Yes, perhaps." And you'll tell me my revenge was a fool's errand, just like my father did.

Maximus: After a moment, he gently added, "Only when you trust me."

Xavier: Xavier smiled softly. “I do already. More than anyone in years. Some things merely need to be worked up to.”

Maximus: "In years? It's been two months."

Xavier: “Indeed. And I’m sure you’ve noticed I’m not terribly...social.”

Maximus: "You're settling into a new home."

Xavier: “Even settled, I’ve never been the social type.”

Xavier: “The tailor’s. They’re terribly fussy about being on time for appointments and I’d hate to annoy them. They’re the best in the city.”

Once outside the station, Xavier hailed a taxi and gave the address to the driver in practiced Italian after exchanging cheerful greetings.

Maximus: He remained silent during their brief walk towards the road. He appreciated their surroundings and fresh Mediterranean atmosphere.

In the taxi, with the driver's attention elsewhere, he leaned over. "Your Italian is sharp, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier beamed with what was very obviously pride. “Why thank you, Maximus. It’s a testament to how much time I spend here, purchasing clothing and otherwise.”

Maximus: "I'm sure." He straightened and stared out the window, but not for long. "M'lord, why do you not call me Fairchild now?"

Xavier: That gave Xavier pause. He hadn’t noticed until this very moment that he’d dropped that small formality. How long had it been?

“We’ve been together for a couple of months now. I daresay we’ve gotten to know each other a decent bit. Felt...right. I can always go back, of course, if you prefer.”

Maximus: "I'm...not sure I should have an opinion, m'lord. I know what you are to me, and that is unwavering."

Xavier: “You know you do, and that I value it.” He smiled. “It doesn’t bother you then? That I call you Maximus?”

Maximus: "I... don't know, m'lord. I don't feel offended. If your lordship prefers Maximus, then I have no objections."

Xavier: “I’m glad to hear it. But if you do find you have an objection in the future, whatever it may be, I do hope you’ll tell me. I’d hate to cause you discomfort.”

Maximus: "...You really mean that, don't you?" he gently asked.

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “I do,” he said softly.

Maximus: Something to ponder later. For now, "Do you have a middle name, m'lord?"

Xavier: “I don’t, as a matter of fact. My father didn’t bless me or my brother with one.”

Maximus: "Your brother?" He turned more in his master's direction out of respect.

Xavier: “Indeed. He’s the elder.”

Maximus: "Is he...?"

Xavier: “Dead? Quite. Several years after me.”

Maximus: "I assumed as much. But I mean to ask if he is at all like you."

Xavier: “Only in one sense, and even then in the loosest way. We’re rather polar opposites, have been always.”

Maximus: "An angel, then?" he dared smirk.

Xavier: “In the metaphorical sense, and by the estimation of many, I’m sure,” he said with a chuckle.

Maximus: "I wouldn't have guessed you to be the baby. You carry yourself as an older brother, or only child."

Xavier: “In many ways, ways I will tell you about someday, I was the only child. But only to him. Not to anyone else.”

Maximus: "'Curiouser and curiouser,'" he said to the window.

Xavier: Xavier grinned to himself. “Most things with me tend to be.”

Maximus: "I don't think you're as complicated as all that, m'lord."

Xavier: “Perhaps not. We all like to think we’re more complicated than we actually are. Me, I’m....layered.”

Maximus: He turned his gaze on his master. "You're curious, but complicated?" He was willing to accept punishment for his forwardness.

Xavier: “Curious, complicated, and multi-layered. Like a demonic cake.”

Maximus: "I would like to... politely disagree."

Xavier: “You don’t think I’m a cake?”

Maximus: There was a quiet war being waged against himself, as so often of late, to prevent himself from smiling.

"Hmm." He needed to look away. What beautiful scenery.

Xavier: Xavier laughed and shook his head. “I’ll take that as a no. I’m but a simple rich man.”

Maximus: "You're not simple, m'lord, but you're not complicated as all that. You want things and you take them."

Xavier: “So I’m straightforward if nothing else. Not a bad thing to be, really.”

Maximus: "No. Not at all, m'lord."

Xavier: “I’m glad you also think so,” he said with a smile. With time, he hoped to learn what Maximus was apart from gloriously efficient.

“The shop isn’t far. Another two streets.”

Maximus: "You're missing warm tones in your wardrobe. A set of tails wouldn't hurt either."

Xavier: “I agree. And I suppose I could stand to add in some warmer reds and browns. Can’t wear black all the time.”

Maximus: "No. That's my area, m'lord," he smiled.

Xavier: “And you pull it off marvelously.”

Maximus: "Are you flirting with me, m'lord?" he whispered.

Xavier: “Would it scandalize you if I was?”

Maximus: "I have no reputation in which to tarnish."

Xavier: “In that case, I am flirting with you.” How do you feel about that, Maximus?

Maximus: He felt betrayed. He felt surprised and yet expectant of this moment. He was elated and in mourning.

There were butterflies in his stomach.

"We must find you some friends, m'lord," he managed to smile. It was the only thing he could think to say.

Xavier: “I have friends. Massimo for example.” The tailor whose name was on a sign above the shop they stopped in front of.

Maximus: "A friend with your measurements. Very good, m'lord." The subject seemed dropped for now. He didn't know whether or not he felt relieved.

Xavier: “My thoughts exactly.” Xavier paid the driver and asked him to wait, promising him a big tip at the end of the day.

The driver was more than happy to oblige, even coming around to open the door for them.

Maximus: Very rarely did he wish to know what his masters were thinking. Very rarely, when he could, was it anything worthwhile. The consequences were always severe. With Xavier he felt regret. Moments like this being unable to glimpse were small tortures.

The shop door was held open for his master, eyes forward as usual. His black bowler hat was removed as they stepped through, remaining behind as he had momentarily forgotten he was to participate.

Xavier: “Signore Rossmara!” They were met with Massimo’s booming greeting before they were even all the way through the door.

Despite his short stature and rather broad frame, the tailor looked impeccable. A walking gentleman’s magazine cover with a jovial face and bon vivant spirit.

“Massimo,” Xavier said fondly, allowing himself to be pulled into a hearty handshake. “Are you well? How’s business?”

“Stupendous now that you’re here!” The tailor noticed Maximus. “Who is this? Have you brought me a new client?”

“I have. Massimo, this is my assistant, Mr. Townsend.”

“Why hello, Signore Townsend! Welcome to Massimo’s!”

Maximus: The human was studied during his rough greeting. Maximus became David with a charming smile. He reached for Massimo's hand without prompt.

"Buongiorno. A pleasure to meet you."

Xavier: Maximus’ hand was shaken enthusiastically. “Buongiorno, Signore Townsend, buongiorno! Welcome to my shop! We’re the best tailor in all Milano. Anything you need, we can make for you here. Is there anything in particular you’re looking for today?” His question was addressed to both of them.

“I’d like Mr. Townsend to be fitted for a few suits. One casual, a set of livery, and two formal suits.”

Massimo’s eyes practically gleamed.

Maximus: He dared give his master a look. That was months’ worth of wages he would be refusing from this day forth. Surely, his gaze said everything while Massimo's attention lingered elsewhere.

"Be sure to expand Lord Rossmara's pockets. They seem to be bottomless."

Xavier: Xavier simply smiled back. He had no intention of allowing Maximus to refuse anything, suits or wages. His butler would simply have to put up with being paid and well dressed.

“I thank Our Lord every day for it, Signore Townsend,” Massimo laughed, gesturing for them to follow him.

In short order he had Maximus up on the podium to be measured and had an assistant selecting samples.

Maximus: Having someone other than his master so near kept his entire being on edge. Until the measuring tape fell away, he barely breathed. A glance over his shoulder was directed towards his master. He gauged his reaction to a young male human so near his property.

"Have you found suitable cufflinks, m'lord?" His tone of voice gave nothing away.

Xavier: Xavier could sense Maximus’ discomfort and made sure to stay in his butler’s line of sight. With any luck he’s be able to offer silent reassurance.

Fortunately for all involved, Massimo was the consummate professional; he worked quickly and respectfully and was done in half the time it would have taken a less experienced man.

“I will in due course. Which reminds me, we shall also be looking at ties and accessories, Massimo.”

“Very good, Signore Rossmara, I will have Luciano bring you a varied selection of everything.”

Maximus: His anxiety only lasted as long as his master remained out of sight. Everything from last night to this moment was not at all what he had expected. He'd been too informal for the past month. At some point he was going to be paying the price. He felt as though he were tipping from a narrow window.

"You need a gold pair," he said softly.

Xavier: Both Massimo and his assistant nodded in agreement.

Xavier smiled. “Bring the gold first then, Luciano. I’d hate to disappoint.”

“Si, signore.”

Maximus: "Is that all you need of me at the moment, signore?"

Xavier: Massimo nodded again. “Yes, Signore Townsend, you may step down. The dressing rooms are through that curtain there.” He pointed to the right before taking a handful of hangers with suit jackets and pants on them from Luciano. “These are all casual suits. Please try them on to see how you like them.”

Maximus: "Grazie," he smiled. One last glance to his master before turning his back to them. He preferred the monochromatic outfits. Gravitated towards black, gray, and dark green, which were hung separately from the rest. Only the gray double-breasted required special touch. A new blazer wouldn't hurt, he thought. I won't be getting it here. Something to look forward to in town once his pockets were heavy. More bowties for his casual workdays, he added to his mental list. This was all a little extravagant, but he wouldn't deny the wishes of his owner.

Xavier: While Maximus dressed, Xavier selected cuff links from the velvet tray Luciano brought for him. Something simple and elegant for the everyday and something more ornate for evening wear. Perhaps two pairs for each.

Meanwhile, Massimo’s attention was on his newest client. “How is everything fitting, signore?” he called to Maximus.

Maximus: "The dark green one is large, but not by an entire size."

Xavier: “Would you like the dark green one? If so, we’ll pin it and set it aside.”

Maximus: "I would, yes. Actually, I think the sleeves on the gray one, here, is slightly too long."

Xavier: “Bene. We shall do the green first and then the gray. Luciano, the pins.” The tailor turned to Xavier. “Have you selected your cuff links, Signore Rossmara?”

Xavier nodded. “I believe so. I await Mr. Townsend’s opinion.”

Maximus: Words which caught his ear sharply. "Nothing too gaudy, m'lord, and I will approve."

Xavier: Xavier laughed. “I wouldn’t think of it. I went for something elegant and understated.”

Maximus: "Is this true, Massimo?"

Xavier: “They’re beautiful choices, Signore Townsend. Very fitting for his lordship.”

Maximus: "Fitting," he echoed. "Please show me, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier waited until Maximus came out of the fitting room and gestured to a small velvet tray containing his choices.

“I await your verdict.”

Maximus: His tie was adjusted for the fifth time as he returned. A set of silver and gold were picked up and inspected as soon as they were within reach.

"These are fitting, yes, but not at all what I would call understated."

Xavier: “Those are the evening ones.” He pointed to another pair. “These are the understated ones, for everyday wear.”

Maximus: "What do you think of these?" A pair of round silver and onyx. "I think these are very suiting."

Xavier: Xavier examined them and nodded in approval. “Agreed. I should find a tie to go with them.”

Maximus: "A black textured tie would pair perfectly." He turned towards the tailor for response.

Xavier: Massimo was already asking Luciano to bring a selection of ties, and bringing another tray laden with cuff links for Maximus to choose from.

Maximus: Nothing ornate or above his station. One set of silver with braided edge, one set of gold bars. His fingers lingered over button shaped mother of pearl, but said nothing.

"It's your turn to be lavished."

Xavier: The lingering was noticed and noted.

“And you as well. It’s time for ties. Select a couple for each suit.”

Maximus: "I can get ties in Paradise. Are you certain, m'lord?" Only for his ears.

Xavier: “I’m certain, Maximus,” Xavier replied just as softly. “No tie in Paradise can compare to the ties here.”

Maximus: "You're too kind." Then he would do as commanded, choosing various textures of black neckties. If insisting, he would stray towards gray and white.

"Now, I must insist you allow the tailor to see to you."

Xavier: Xavier let Maximus choose whatever his heart desired, secretly eyeing a few ties he thought would suit his butler. He’d ask Massimo to set them aside when they got to the dressing room.

Speaking of.

“Yes, of course. We need those warm tones and those tails. Massimo—“

“Yes, Signore Atlas. I’ll pull pieces right away.”

Maximus: "Should I ever know you that well someday," he smiled. "Be sure to put those tails to good work this year. The house will be ready for dinner parties as soon as we settle the remaining furniture."

Xavier: He grinned. “I think you’re well on your way. This very morning you timed breakfast precisely with my awakening.” To him that meant they were well on their way toward establishing the intimacy that came with living under the same roof.

“Once my tails and furniture are in order I should get some friends so I have someone to throw a dinner party for.”

Maximus: His morning breakfast had been an apology for the night before. Still, it had pleased him, and so it would continue.

"Speaking of. I look forward to seeing to the frames today. We must find a suitable artist."

Xavier: “As am I. They’ll be the perfect finishing touch for the drawing room. As far as the artist, we might be able to find an excellent one on this trip. Do you know any good portrait artists, Massimo?”

The tailor hummed while he considered. “Not personally, but I will have Luciano find you a suitable one.”

Maximus: "Molto gentile da parte tua, signore." So rare it was to speak his mother's native tongue.

Xavier: Well now Massimo looked positively delighted. Maximus had officially endeared himself into becoming a top client.

“Of course, signore, of course! Anything for you and Signore Rossmara! Luciano and I will find you the best portrait painter, not just in Milano, but all Italia.”

Maximus: The exclamation jarred him from his guard. Ducked head and smile followed the promise. Gratitude in his third language. A look given to his master from behind his lashes.

Xavier: Xavier was grinning like the cat that got the canary. He just knew coming here was a good idea and there was the proof.

“Your diligence and dedication are much appreciated, Massimo, thank you.”

“You’re too kind, Signore Rossmara, too kind. Ah, here we are.” He accepted some hangers from Luciano. “These are the tails, Signore Rossmara. If you’ll step into the dressing room, please.”

Maximus: Maximus' smile remained well after his master's disappearance into the dressing room. The room felt brighter, wider than when they had stepped inside. Days like today reminded him of Crawford. The tall, lanky man too old for this world. A man too quiet for his own good. A benevolent master, most of the time. He dared miss him.

His thoughts swam away from him, his eyes somewhere far away when Atlas returned.

Xavier: "What do you think?" Xavier asked as he emerged from the dressing room and stopped in front of the mirror, turning this way and that to study his reflection. "They'll need adjusting of course."

Luciano always had to pull stops a size to big and trousers that were too short; Xavier's height and shoulders always demanded adjustments.

Maximus: "I should have tried my hand at clothing years ago. I doubt I'd be trusted by the next-" The smile was more sheepish than honest.

Xavier: "Well you're certainly trusted now." He did a turn. "Do I pass muster?"

Maximus: "Not with those trousers, m'lord."

Xavier: “Offend? Not at all. It doesn’t surprise me, either. I know I’m relatively young by demonic standards.”

Maximus: "I don't think by much. I'm...young, too."

Xavier: “Probably by a decent bit. I died in 1935.”

Maximus: "I..." he swallowed, "it was 1899." He was grateful for the waiter. Barolo and ossobucco for himself, ordered after Atlas.

Xavier: Xavier chose the house white and the tortellini and a risotto for them for share.

“About ten years before I was born,” he said thoughtfully. “And look at us now. Two young demons about to enjoy some exquisite food in Milan.”

Maximus: "I believe you're my youngest master," he smiled, one of his more honest. "Among other things, I'm not afraid to say."

Xavier: “An honor indeed,” he said with a grin.

Maximus: "You can be so brazen."

Xavier: “It’s definitely been said before.”

He gave their waiter a nod of thanks when their wine was brought over. “I’ve made a whole life out of it.”

Maximus: "Do you ever regret not hiring a human? A vampire?" Today had gone so well, broken so many rules given by himself and others. He dared laugh at the absurdity. "I'm going to wake up tomorrow at the Crawford house."

Xavier: “Vampire? Lucifer, save us all.” Xavier shook his head and sipped his wine. “Vampires are too involved in their own affairs and humans require too much explanation. I made the ideal choice and got the ideal candidate, and the only place you’ll be waking up is your own bed.”

Maximus: "Right, because..." He began picking at his fingers underneath the table. A new little tick. He could scarcely hear the bustling of Milanese over his own clamoring negativity. His thoughts had been etched with every new master. Too much for Atlas to carve away at once.

"I'm grateful, truly."

Xavier: As much as he’d like to carve away all those dreadful thoughts at once, he was quite satisfied chipping away a bit at a time. “And I’m grateful to you for setting my house to such terrific order.”

Maximus: The next exhale straightened his spine. He was relaxed, despite his proper appearance.

"I look forward to your first dinner party. The house is something to be proud of."

Xavier: “It certainly is. You’ll have to help me scrounge up some guests.”

Maximus: "The most prominent figures in Paradise." Of course. "Establish an unforgettable rapport."

Xavier: “Not to sound arrogant but I believe I am the most prominent figure in Paradise.”

Maximus: "It wouldn't hurt to have connections. The road ahead isn't clear."

Xavier: “I suppose not, although I am tempted to exist beneath a veil of mystery.”

Maximus: "If something were to happen to me, I'd rather burn knowing you'll have options."

Xavier: Nothing is going to happen to you. I won’t let it.

“I suppose I could invite the less prominent but moderately well-off citizens of Paradise for a dinner party.”

Maximus: A well-reached smile. "Very good, m'lord. That's the spirit."

Xavier: “I’m sure the whole town has been dying to know what has become of Damien Eisley’s neglected mansion.”

Maximus: "Your updates will upset a few, but we'll turn them around."

Xavier: “Only those with no taste will be upset.”

Maximus: "You're impeccable, m'lord?" A brave tease with crinkling around his eyes.

Xavier: Xavier grinned into his wine glass. “Undoubtedly.”

Maximus: "I will not argue. Neither as servant nor assistant."

Xavier: He laughed softly. “Jolly good then. We shall be impeccable together thanks to Massimo.”

Maximus: Just as casually, said with well-considered ease, "Will your father be proud of your progress?"

Xavier: “Who’s to say,” he said with a shrug. “The man is inscrutable. I usually take his silence as approval.”

Maximus: "Is a lot of your relationship a guessing game?" Today, with a tingle down his spine, he would not apologize. Just to see.

Xavier: “For the most part. I gave up asking him questions, he never gives straight answers. Like all ancient beings I suppose.”

Maximus: "They want us to figure out the puzzle for ourselves. Either that, or their language restricted what is commonplace today."

Xavier: “With him it’s the former I think. He loves riddles, it’s exhausting.”

Maximus: "I appreciate the silence. It's its own riddle."

Xavier: “I’d rather the silence to be perfectly frank. Leaves more room for interpretation and gives more leeway. If I do something he isn’t pleased with he has to live with it in a way, because he never told me not to.”

He smiled again. “He loves his riddles, I love my loopholes.”

Maximus: "I prefer silence to riddles I know I will fail to interpret. Sabotaged from their first syllable for a passive thrill of seeing me fail and punished."

Now his eyes fell. "Forgive me. I'm - I'm being - I forget myself and it's unlike me. I swear."

Xavier: “I got a fair bit of those myself when I was on the rack. As if he needed more excuses to torment me.”

Like so many times before, Xavier’s expression softened. “I have nothing to forgive. You’re free to speak your mind with me.”

Maximus: "When you say that, m'lord, understand why you are unlike my former masters."

Xavier: He nodded. “I know I am,” he said softly. “In more ways than I probably know.”

Maximus: "It goes to everyone's head." His voice would not carry over the mortal city hum, but enough weight for a demon's ear.

Xavier: “Most everyone doesn’t have their humanity intact.” Sometimes he even thought it was heightened. There were days he just felt too fucking human.

Maximus: "But that-" He leaned away, silent as their plates were placed in front of them like silent offerings. Their waiter bowed and turned away, as though fully aware of his interruption.

Xavier: “I love European waitstaff,” he said after the waiter had been thanked and had moved away. “They’re so aware.”

Maximus: This time, his smile was more familiar, more sterile. His attention would fall upon his meal.

Xavier: Xavier knew that smile all too well. That was Maximus’ butler smile. Still lovely, but not as lovely as his very rare genuine smiles.

“Trying to predict the future is a fool’s errand but I can say with some confidence that the only thing that has gone to my head is my prowess for theft.”

Maximus: "In the past two months, I've only witnessed this prowess once, m'lord. Are you sure?"

Xavier: “We’ve been preoccupied,” he said, giving Maximus a quick, charming grin. “But be assured I’ll be taking advantage of any opportunity that presents itself.”

Maximus: "Just as soon as I can find someone with an agenda against me?" His master's smile had coaxed a more favorable expression, one more teasing and relaxed.

Xavier: Xavier grinned widely. So Maximus had noticed Xavier's Robin Hood-esque defense of his honor. "Precisely. All agendas against you will be met with thieving force."

Maximus: Of course he had, though he'd seen the gesture merely as an excuse to snatch essentials for the mansion. "Well, you've brought this half-breed home. There will be no prejudice here."

Xavier: "There certainly will not. And if you see any, tell me and it will be dealt with swiftly."

Maximus: "I'm used to it, m'lord."

Xavier: "So am I. All the more reason not to let it stand."

Maximus: "No one will belittle you. Your demeanor is too regal."

Xavier: "It should be, I bought myself a viscountcy. I'm an honest to goodness lord."

Maximus: Maximus tried to conceal his smile with a sip of wine.

Xavier: He could try as hard as he wanted, but Xavier caught it nonetheless. "That would also annoy my stepmother. Something else to cling to."

Maximus: "She's long gone. She can't hurt you anymore." He was still too young. Just allowing things to fly from his mouth without thinking. He debated on apologizing, but waited for his master's reaction.

Xavier: Xavier smiled wistfully and toasted the air. "Thank God and the Devil for that, too. Long may she and my father stay on the rack."

Maximus: No punishment? How much was he allowed to get away with?

"Have you seen them? There?"

Xavier: "I've seen him. He went first so I had more time to look. Haven't found her yet. Until I do I'll content myself with dancing on her grave."

Maximus: "Could she be a wraith? Or...moved on already?"

Xavier: "Old hag is too stubborn to move on peacefully. She'll cling out of pure spite and consider herself a martyr for being sent to the pit."

Maximus: "I could find out for you, m'lord. If you really want to know the truth."

Xavier: "Perhaps in due time. I rather like the thought of her being tormented for tens of hundreds of years before I find her and she has to watch me watch her be ripped to shreds." Another wistful smile. "Warms my little black heart."

Maximus: "Are you concerned that is not the case?"

Xavier: "Not particularly. If it is, lovely. If not, I also like the thought of dragging her there myself."

Maximus: "Is that possible?"

Xavier: "I don't see why it couldn't be. If something is tying her to this mortal coil it wouldn't be terribly difficult to sever the connection."

Maximus: "Oh. I thought you meant from - from Heaven."

Xavier: Xavier shook his head. "Oh no, my dear, no. The hag isn't getting up there."

Maximus: Just a playful banter, but still he enjoyed being called dear. 'Be a dear' was the most he'd ever been given.

Another moment of vulnerability stolen by the waiter. This time, he was grateful.

Xavier: He'd scarcely noticed the slip, but now that those gates had been opened the endearment would no doubt be making regular appearances.

"Ah, glorious. Grazie," he told the waiter, inhaling deeply. "Bless the Italians."

Maximus: "Careful, you'll burn me," he smiled.

Xavier: His smile was met with a laugh, which in turn was followed by a blissful sigh at the first mouthful of food.

Maximus: His meal swelled his thoughts with memories of his mother's cooking. Sweet sentimentality through rose tinted lens. His manners were dropped long enough to mop his plate with bread. Even then, done so with elegant fingers. Not a drop spilt.

"Thank you, m'lord. For everything today."

Xavier: Maximus wasn't alone in his temporary lack of manners; it would've been criminal to waste a single bit of sauce or of the lovely bread on the table.

"You're more than welcome, Maximus. Happy to do it."

Maximus: "I'm looking forward to seeing to the frames. It feels overdue."

Xavier: "It does. Perhaps I've been avoiding thinking about the matter. Two months on and something about Aello still unsettles me."

Maximus: "He was probably harmless. No more a threat than we were to him."

Xavier: "There's threats and there's threats. I'm not entirely certain he's human."

Maximus: "Neither do I, but we don't slaughter everyone."

Xavier: "True enough, and we won't. We'll just enjoy the frames and avoid him."

Maximus: "Then are you ready, m'lord?"

Xavier: Xavier took a deep breath and nodded. "I am indeed. Unto the breach."

Maximus: The fabric was gathered and tucked under his arm. They reappeared somewhere in California sans an unforgiving sky and unwelcoming stench. His handkerchief was returned to his nose without mention. This had become his routine.

Xavier: The stench was as familiar as the layout of Milan in Xavier’s mind, only a million times less pleasant. He missed it already.

“Disgraceful,” he sighed.

Maximus: "M'lord?" More nasally than usual in an attempt to conceal his bleeding.

Xavier: "I fail to see what benefit is derived from our kind smelling like sulfur. We already have black eyes. Surely that's enough identification."

Maximus: "This is meant to be a punishment, in every sense of the word."

Xavier: "More of an annoyance than a punishment in my view."

Maximus: The piece of cloth was folded onto itself and tucked away. He would rather bleed than leave his master sullied. This had long ago been deemed his duty by Shore, and no demon in his place had ever questioned his generosity.

Xavier: Assuming Maximus had put his handkerchief away because it was too stained, Xavier offered his own. "Let us set this fabric somewhere safe and get on with the frame inspection."

Maximus: "Oh. No, thank you. I couldn't." Though he'd yet to realize a fresh bead of blood had begun its trickle downward.

"Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "You could." He gestured at his butler's nose. "You're still bleeding, take it."

Maximus: He wouldn't deny him twice, as much as he wanted to. A quiet thank you uttered as he took the ivory cloth and placed it to his nose.

Xavier: Xavier gave an approving nod. “Excellent. Now.” He looked around. “Should we walk or see to a taxi?”

Maximus: "I wouldn't mind the walk, m'lord. We've been in taxis all day."

Xavier: “Very true. In that case, allow me to help you with the fabric.”

Maximus: "I can't allow that, m'lord. I'm alright."

Xavier: “I insist. We’ve a bit of a walk ahead.”

Maximus: "You'll scuff your clothes."

Xavier: “Scuffs can be removed.”

Maximus: "Why must you argue with me?" Asked gently, of course.

Xavier: “It’s what I do,” he said with a smile, carefully taking half the fabric.

Maximus: The fabric was reluctantly released. His servant had no clue as to the blush, softest shade of pink, flush to his cheeks. As though this were submission for something far more intimate.

Xavier: Maximus might have been unaware of it, but Xavier certainly was not. No comment was made, but he silently committed it to memory, savoring every detail and nuance it brought to Maximus’ face. Such beautiful, delicate features his butler had.

“Very good,” he said softly, starting down the road and waiting for Maximus to fall into step beside him.

Maximus: Beside yes, but always by a half-step, just barely from eyeshot. A ghost meant to open doors and take coats from shoulders, to serve tea and renew plates as if from nowhere.

As they approached the warehouse, his butler appeared by the door.

Xavier: A ghost Xavier intended to make more corporeal. One of these days Maximus would comfortably walk by his side from place to place with scarcely a second thought; Xavier was determined to make it so.

He smiled and nodded in thanks as he stepped through the door and into the main office of his shipping warehouse. He exchanged a brief greeting with the middle-aged man at the desk, who'd immediately stood to attention.

"I should have two crates waiting for me, Greaves."

"Yes, your lordship, from New York. Sender Aello?"

Xavier nodded. "Those are the ones, yes. Where are they?"

"Finch put them in the secure holding room beside your office."

"Thank you, Greaves. Keep an eye on this fabric and mind you, don't let it get stained. It'll be the drapes in my drawing room before much longer."

Greaves nodded and relieved both of them from their burden. "Yes, your lordship."

"By the by, this is Townsend, my new assistant. Treat him as you would me."

Another nod from Greaves. "Yes, your lordship. Welcome, Mr. Townsend."

Maximus: A warehouse if ever there was one, but belonging to Xavier Atlas somehow made the ceilings higher, and the air crisp as though he were still outside in the December wind.

Greaves seemed well kept, despite his long years. Human, just as his master had said. Had they any idea of their employer?

His false name jerked his thoughts, and that which followed put a rod in his spine.

David Townsend, tall in posture and steady hands on his hat, bowed his head. The most polite smile one could muster without teeth followed without word.

Xavier: Greaves' tidiness and mannerisms reflected the way Xavier ran his business. The warehouse was large and busy, and though there was the buzz of conversation and occasional roar of bawdy laughter, every employee was dressed smartly and moved efficiently. This was a tight ship and Xavier was enormously proud of it.

Greaves handed them off to the aforementioned Finch, a much younger and scrawnier man with a cigarette between his lips and a Midwestern accent. He filled Xavier in on the goings on as they moved through the warehouse, dodging dockers and weaving between crates.

"Shipment's here, your lordship sir." Finch stopped in front of a heavy metal door. "Two crates, two frames, both unopened just like you said."

"Thank you, Finch. That will be all."

Maximus: They were followed behind, listening to every detail. Of the man downstairs complaining about his wife. To the man by his side laughing at his misfortune in marriage. He could hear the clatter of crates to which their destination remained in queue. The sound of large, tired trucks beyond the warehouse. Always, his master's voice above it all as though whispered nose-to-ear.

He waited for Finch to leave the room, for the door to close and muffle their surroundings. He placed his hat on the desk, along with his gloves. He continued without word towards the nearest crate.

Xavier: "Wait a moment, Maximus." Xavier eyed the crates. They seemed innocuous enough. Still...

"Can you feel anything? Smell anything? A strange energy signature, the traces of a spell?"

Maximus: His servant turned, his smile unlike that given to his employers. A playful, silent note, with a finger brought to his lips. Let me work, his eyes said. To mollify, he reached for the smaller crate first. The box was placed on top of the other, opened with brute strength.

Xavier: Xavier smiled and nodded, stepping back to let Maximus do whatever it was he was going to do but not dropping his guard. He almost expected Aello himself to pop out of one of those crates.

The crate opened and Xavier tensed, ready to defend Maximus and himself.

Maximus: That would have been nothing if not entertaining. A fat, jolly man with rosy cheeks stuffed into a child-size crate would have been unforgettable. He still wasn't sure what it was he had initially done to catch the salesman's attention. Whatever the case, the smaller frame was unearthed from the paper pulp. No burning, freezing, no sudden shock to his system. Nothing but wood and bits of metal long ago replacing thick twine.

The frame was set aside and studied much the same as it had in October. Beautiful, as expected, but unassuming.

The first crate was set aside. Onto the next.

Xavier: Like the crate it had just been in, the frame looked innocuous. Lovely and ornate and innocuous. A close inspection still had to be made but so far so good.

Maximus: It's larger twin was pulled in the same fashion and leaned against it's crate. This time, he kneeled in front of it, inspected as close as he could manage for tiny scribbled spells or hidden drops of blood.

Xavier: Xavier dared step closer. He still didn't feel any strange energy signatures but they weren't always present. Something sinister could still be lurking.

While Maximus studied the frames, he took it upon himself to study the crates themselves. It wasn't always the thing inside the box that held the nasty surprise; just as often it was the box.

Maximus: Pale fingers gently glided along the edge of the frame, feeling grooves or scratches. It was then he nicked his middle finger. The smallest prick with the tiniest bead of blood. So inconsequential, in his quiet thoughts, not to disturb his master. His hand carefully fell to his side, out of his master's sight.

Xavier: However tiny, they were demons. Their sense of smell was as sharp as any shark, and Xavier didn't need to be a mile away to smell that tiny metallic trace in the air.

"Did you cut yourself?" he asked suddenly, whipping around.

Maximus: Deer in headlights. His servant stared for a moment, caught completely off guard.

Xavier: "Let me see."

Maximus: He could not tell him no. He was eternally bound to obey. His hand, reluctantly, was presented palm-side up. The tiny scratch was barely inflamed, as though arguing to heal.

Xavier: Xavier gently took Maximus' hand and brought it closer to examine the cut. "Did the frame do this or a piece of the crate?" he asked as he began to heal it.

Maximus: "A shard of wood behind the frame." His eyes never left their hands.

Xavier: That was the next order of business then. He'd see to it only after Maximus' hand was set to rights and he'd made sure that the cut hadn't had any other effect on his butler.

Maximus: No obvious effect. Still calm, pale, and rigid. "It was most likely nothing, m'lord."

Xavier: "We can't be too careful, Maximus. Many a spell can be done with demon blood and this is a brilliant and stealthy way to get some."

Time to inspect the back of the frame.

Maximus: Everything about the frame spoke of simultaneous age and care. Long ago someone had taken the time to sand, paint, varnish, with consideration of every dip and hill of craftsmanship. The shard did not belong, as though someone had been careless with something so expensive.

Xavier: The shard did not indeed belong. As though by design. After all, why take such care with every aspect of the frame and leave they one imperfection untouched and unattended to.

He went to the door and stuck his head out. “Finch!”

The man appeared in moments. “Yes, your lordship sir?”

“Bring me some pliers and sandpaper.”

“Right away, your lordship.”

Maximus: "I can pull it apart myself," he called to his master's back.

Xavier: “Precautions, my dear. We must take them all.”

Maximus: There it was again. He tried not to think too deeply on his pet name. Still, his thoughts lingered while staring a hole into the large frame.

Xavier: Finch returned with the requested pliers and sandpaper, with a pair of gloves thrown in for good measure.

Xavier nodded as he took everything. "Thank you, Finch. The crate remnants will be going into the incinerator. Sooner rather than later, please."

"Yes, your lordship sir."

Once Finch had moved away, Xavier put on the gloves and turned the frame so the backside was facing him. Any inscriptions? Any sigils?

Maximus: Nothing of note. Only the single splinter of wood, as though it had fallen against a sharp corner.

Maximus slowly shifted to the side, giving his master room.

"I can remove it."

Xavier: "Don't trouble yourself, Maximus. Much as I love these frames I don't trust them one bit." He carefully removed the shard from the frame and braced for calamity.

If none came, he'd begin sanding down the location where it had been, along with any spots of Maximus' blood.

Maximus: "Then why did you purchase them, m'lord?" Yes, there was humor in his tone, but Atlas was looking away.

Xavier: Maximus would be able to hear the smile in Xavier's voice. "Because they really are nice frames. And they would look lovely in my house."

Maximus: There was no drop or blood to speak of. Once the shard was removed, it seemed the frame had always existed with a smooth, almost perfect dip the length of a small fingernail.

Xavier: Xavier squinted at the frame. This was a magical object. He didn't know exactly how or exactly what it did, but he was almost certain it was an artifact.

"When we return to Paradise, remind me to purchase some sort of print at the frame shop. Two, in fact. One for each frame. We're going to do a little experiment."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord." He wouldn't question what that would be at this time. He would find out be tonight.

"Shall I take us home?"

Xavier: "How's your energy? We can still take the train or hire a car."

Maximus: "I'll be fine. I swear. I just need to gather the fabrics."

Xavier: "Then let's go collect them from Greaves."

Maximus: "M'lord." Fabrics over one arm, held very carefully. The frames were hung from his other. This he would refuse, given how often they had traveled already. He wanted his master comfortable at his own expense. They would return to the mansion in one piece. Another bloody nose, standing in the middle of the drawing room.

Xavier: “Thank you for getting us back in once piece. How do you feel?”

Maximus: "Exhausted of nosebleeds, but I'm well."

Xavier: “Nothing odd around the site of your cut?”

Maximus: He looked to his hand. "No, m'lord." None that he could see.

Xavier: Xavier nodded. “Very good. But if you start feeling strange or notice something amiss, tell me immediately.”

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord," a response he was forced to give. Should he obey, he did not yet know if he could avoid.

Xavier: “Promise?”

Maximus: "I - Yes, m'lord." What he wanted to say verses what was spoken was quietly concealed in his eyes.

Xavier: His eyes were telling Maximus to go ahead and speak his mind.

Maximus: He turned away. "This frame for which room, m'lord?"

Xavier: “The larger one for this room,” he said softly. “The smaller for the library.”

Maximus: Then without word, he took the smaller frame in hand, bowed, and walked away.

Xavier: Xavier waited until he heard Maximus’ footsteps on the stairs before he sighed softly. He only hoped Maximus kept to his promise.

Maximus: He felt a little ridiculous. The frame had simply scuffed on its travel across the United States. There was no great mystery here. The only mystery was why Xavier was more worried than he was.

Xavier. That was the first time he'd ever thought of him by his first name. He was losing his senses. He'd never warmly regarded any owner, with perhaps the smallest exception of Crawford. He was property, a tool, a plaything one would pick up and put down at leisure.

The frame was secured onto the wall near one of the great shelves. His thoughts swam in memories, too fogged to pay attention to his task. In the middle of the library he stood, allowing himself a moment to find a clearing from his mind. There was a name for this, surely, but he did not know. He could not move, only exist.

Deep breath. He'd found his way out.

The frame was perfectly center. This was the smaller one, was it not? It seemed taller than when he had unearthed it from the crate.

Xavier: Whether the frame had been scuffed en route to the warehouse mattered precious little to Xavier's paranoia; it was far more concerned with the man who had done the sending.

That Aello was not human--or was a human with magic--was all but a certainty in his mind. Ordinary humans didn't have the kind of aura, that kind of energy. They'd settled and parted on decent terms (Xavier made sure of that) but still the suspicion remained. His paranoia had served him very well for the past several decades and he saw no need to start doubting it now simply because Aello was a jolly old man.

If it turned out he was worrying for nothing, all the better. If not, then he was prepared.

Xavier heaved a long sigh. He needed a drink. "Maximus?" he called.

Maximus: His servant appeared in an instant. The light pouring through the windows made him appear paler than usual.

"M'lord?"

Xavier: ......He second-thought that drink.

"Let's put the kettle on. We've traveled many miles today, we've earned a cup of tea."

Maximus: Assent with a bow. This time he would use his legs and walk to the kitchen. Some bread and butter would be added to the tea tray as well. A wave of calm seemed to have washed over him since the library.

Xavier: While Maximus put together the tea service, Xavier started a fire for them. The days were getting colder and colder and shorter and shorter, making even this palatial manor house feel cozy and warm.

All that was missing was the record player he still needed to find.

Maximus: What they did have was radio, and in the absence of radio, there was Maximus' voice, quietly singing in Italian while waiting for water to boil.

Xavier: To Xavier, that was just as good as any record he could play. And like nearly every other time Maximus had sung over the past two months, Xavier snuck closer to listen.

Maximus: Despite his hearing, he was not in tune with the house this evening. There was no need for such caution as to listen to every groan and sigh of the floors and corridors. Sweet love songs passed his lips without concern, switching into the more easily spoken French as the kettle whistled.

Xavier: That was something to be thankful for. Still, Xavier didn't want to push his luck and get even closer than he already was, no matter how much he wanted to see the expression on Maximus' face as he sang. He could hear and admire his butler just fine through the wall. Such a beautiful voice and kept so private. He hoped the day would come when it wouldn't be.

He'd wait until the last possible second to make his way back to the drawing room.

Maximus: Wherever his master had wondered throughout the house, his servant would find him, tray in hands. His disposition was composed. No different from the everyday taciturn behavior, with the exception of his eyes. One might call them sedated.

The tray was placed on a table.

"I don't suppose you're famished," he finally said, "but I brought a little something."

Xavier: Xavier gave Maximus a warm smile in greeting. “No Englishman ever said no to food with their tea. Especially when it’s bread.”

Maximus: "It's missing fried clams and sauce. Perhaps tomorrow."

Xavier: “I shall look forward to that. Make me all your Louisiana specialties.”

Maximus: "That's what I'm for, m'lord."

Xavier: You're so much more than that, he thought to himself. He would've said it aloud, but he had a feeling Maximus wasn't quite ready to hear it.

"Until then, sit and have a cup of tea with me. You've earned it."

Maximus: He'd learned not to attempt to argue. A quick lesson of just two months. Only after making his master's cup of tea did he take to a seat near the tray.

November 8, 2019

Xavier: Xavier was glad the lesson had stuck; his next goal was for Maximus to just automatically pour himself a cup or make a plate or sit down of his own free will. Slow and steady.

"How does the frame look in the library?"

Maximus: "As though it should have always been there," he said gently to his cup.

Xavier: "Then it was the correct choice."

Maximus: "Master Atlas." Two words equally delicate, as though barely lifted from his tongue.

Xavier: "Yes, Maximus?" he said softly.

Maximus: The demon blinked, brow furrowed enough to wrinkle. "I don't know."

Xavier: "Is something bothering you?"

Maximus: "No. I just suddenly needed to say your name."

Xavier: He gave Maximus a gentle smile. "You can say it as often as you like."

Maximus: Maximus swallowed and sat his cup aside. "I didn't mean to." His eyes had taken on a daydreamt state.

Xavier: "That's all right, Maximus. I don't mind."

Maximus: "I'm going to...clean now, m'lord. I need -" what was he about to say? That would have been awful. Where was his mind now? "Excuse me." His cup was returned to the tray and abandoned. With brisk stride he removed himself from the room.

Xavier: Xavier's brow furrowed. What had just happened?

He cast a glance at the empty frame. Perhaps....

He set his own cup down and followed after Maximus.

Maximus: He was humming, seemingly without shame, a Chick Bullock song. Breathy lyrics uttered from red wine lips as he headed towards the library. His shoulders slacked from lack of tension. Ungloved fingers gently caressed the banister as he ascended.

Xavier: The furrowed brow became a full-on frown. Maximus was humming? Out in the open? Where Xavier could easily hear?

Something wasn't right.

He waited until his butler reached the landing and turned before starting up the stairs himself.

Maximus: A handful of leather-bound books were pulled from their shelves, thumbed, and set aside. Papers were stacked neatly and put away. Pillows refluffed and returned. The books, written in French, were then gathered in his arm. Center of the room he paused, staring off into space. The demon blinked, looked to his arm and shivered as though shaking off the cold. These were books he had wanted to read since his master brought them home. He couldn't read them all at once. Three of the four were returned.

Xavier: Xavier couldn't quite decide whether he was more fascinated or concerned. Maximus helping himself to books in the library wasn't a shock; Xavier had told him he was free to do so. The...ease about him was definitely noteworthy, however. Usually it seemed like his butler never fully allowed himself to relax, and here he was, relaxed.

What actually concerned him was the moment when Maximus paused and shivered and looked at his arm. Was that the same side the cut had been on?

Maximus: His shiver had begun with his right side, the side which had been pierced by the frame. The bewilderment on his servant's features had been towards his insatiable inclination. With the books returned, he turned towards the door, paused directly in front of the frame. The literature in his hands, a hardback treasure gifted to the world by a woman, was hugged to his chest.

Xavier: "I knew it," Xavier muttered to himself, stepping into his butler's line of sight. His paranoia continued to serve him well.

"Maximus." His tone was light and gentle. Casual even. "We're going to pop into town for a bit. There are some things I need."

Maximus: His butler's posture straightened with a violent jerk, nearly dropped the book from his chest. It was as though he had been struck.

"I can get them for you, m'lord."

Xavier: He smiled. "That's quite all right, I fancy a drive. We could both use a break from our usual form of travel. We can bring the fabric to the shop while we're there."

Maximus: He glanced behind, as though expecting someone to be there. Perhaps the fabric, even. "Will we make it in time? Most stores will be closing soon."

Xavier: "We should, yes. If we don't then that's no bother for us, now is it?" His voice had remained gentle, his smile soft, and reassuring. "Come."

Maximus: "No, it's no bother, but I'd hate for you to be disappointed." His eyes closed, berating himself for all of two seconds. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I doubt very much that I will be. We have plenty of time." All is well. Just come to me and away from the frame.

Once Maximus had joined him, Xavier waited until his butler started down the hall before he closed and telepathically locked the library door.

Downstairs, the drawing room door was also locking itself. A simple precaution.

He led them to garage and into the car, keeping a close eye on Maximus as they started down the road.

Maximus: As usual, Maximus opened the passenger side door for his master. Being the one and only servant of the house, he'd quickly grown accustomed to playing every role in one. His surprise was mild when his master refused him.

The fabric had been placed in the backseat. During the drive, he stared out the window, hands in his lap, perfectly quiet.

Xavier: No outward signs of distress. Good. That meant whatever was happening wasn't causing pain.

Time for some tests.

"I was thinking we could stop by the ice cream parlor as well. It's been ages since I had any. What's your favorite flavor?"

Maximus: His servant looked on, nonchalant. "I don't have a favorite."

Xavier: “Perhaps I should buy several for you to see if we can find one.”

Maximus: "That's just frivolous, m'lord."

Xavier: “Frivolity makes life more fun. Let’s also get a cake.”

Maximus: "I can bake you one better than those in town."

Xavier: Xavier grinned. “Can you indeed? What’s your best recipe?”

Maximus: "Praline...with joconde sponge. It's the only one I know, so it's perfect."

Xavier: “In that case, we’ll get you all the ingredients you need. And a cake pan, as I don’t think we have one.”

Maximus: "What do you think I've made your elaborate English pies in?"

Xavier: “Ah, yes,” he chuckled. “I’m sure you must be getting tired of making so much pastry.”

Maximus: "My arms are strong from the effort. You enjoy my cooking. I can't complain about that."

Xavier: Xavier smiled to himself. He was beginning to see the effects. "I do enjoy your cooking, very much. I also enjoy sharing it with you."

Maximus: "It won't last, m'lord." His eyes closed again. "I ask for your forgiveness. I'm behaving most inappropriately."

Xavier: "No, Maximus, you're not behaving inappropriately. This is simply the result of the spell."

Maximus: "I thought previous masters were paranoid."

Xavier: "My paranoia has borne fruit. The frame seems to be lowering all your inhibitions and making you speak your mind."

Maximus: "How do you..."

Xavier: "You're answering all my questions without a filter and you can't seem to stop yourself."

Maximus: "I..." He closed his mouth. Indeed, he was about to say something else. Let's try again. "When did you know?"

Xavier: "You dashed out of the room like you were on fire, kept staring off into space, and gave the frame on the wall a strange look while shivering and looked at the arm you cut."

Maximus: "You followed me?" That's all he heard.

Xavier: "Yes. You never dash anywhere like you're on fire. You walk or hasten in a composed manner."

Maximus: "I didn't...dash. I walked...briskly."

Xavier: "For you, that's a dash."

Maximus: "I couldn't be in the room with you."

Xavier: "Because you kept wanting to say things and couldn't stop yourself?"

Maximus: His eyes remained closed. "I felt human again, but...I was better composed as a child. It made no sense."

Xavier: "It's the frame," he said softly. "Remember how I said that all sorts of spells can be done with blood? It took yours and had this effect on you."

Maximus: "When this is over I - anyway you see fit to punish me, I won't...I accept."

Xavier: "Darling, why would I punish you for something that isn't your fault? You didn't inscribe the frame with a spell and intentionally cut yourself with it."

Maximus: "I wish you would and just get it over with." His hands clutched to white knuckles. "I'm sorry."

Xavier: "Maximus, stop apologizing. I'm not going to punish you. I have no desire to punish you and no plans to punish you."

Maximus: "Please, just once so I can breathe."

Xavier: “I don’t want to punish you. I have absolutely zero desire or intention. I know you keep bracing for it and expecting it but it isn’t going to come.”

Maximus: "You're not the first demon to make that promise, master."

Xavier: “I’m sure I’m not. But I’m the first that plans to keep it.”

Maximus: "You're going to hurt more than anyone before you."

Xavier: "I sincerely hope I don't," he said softly. "I don't want to hurt you, Maximus."

Maximus: "Please forget everything I've said today when this is over."

Xavier: "I'll forget everything but your promise for fried clams and sauce." He offered a small smile.

Maximus: And all without having to open his eyes. He was grateful he'd been allowed.

"Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier took a deep breath. “Okay. Let’s get this frame situation sorted.”

Maximus: "What are you going to do?"

Xavier: “I’m going to try a simple cleansing spell. Ancient Roman in origin. I need salt, spelt, and sage.”

Maximus: "So you are going to hurt me."

Xavier: "Oh no, not for you. For the frame, to get rid of the spell."

Maximus: We don't know what that might do to me. A thought he just managed to keep to himself. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: Indeed they did not. Xavier hoped that cleansing the spell from the frame would break its effect on Maximus but there was no way to be sure. Unless...

"There is another option. I could contact Aello."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord." There was no way around an argument.

Xavier: "How do you feel? Physically?"

Maximus: With a full understanding of his predicament, he managed to swallow his words.

"Several ways."

Xavier: "Could you tell me? I wouldn't pry, but I need to understand what's happening to you so I can try to understand the spell."

Maximus: "I beg you, please don't demand of me."

Xavier: Xavier sighed softly. "Very well. Can I at least ask if you are in pain?"

Maximus: "No pain, m'lord."

Xavier: He nodded. At least there was that.

"Very well. We'll drop off the fabric and get the items I need and I suppose we'll see how to proceed from there."

Maximus: "If you'll allow me, I can find a way to deal with this myself. I am at fault."

Xavier: "Darling, I really wish you would stop blaming yourself for things that aren't your fault. You were inspecting the frames because I suspected they were enchanted somehow."

Maximus: "I shouldn't have regarded him at all. It wasn't my place. I am not darling."

Xavier: "You had no reason not to regard him. When we walked into his shop, we thought he was simply another shopkeeper. We must have interacted with a dozen shopkeepers over the past couple of months, no reason to suspect anything amiss."

Maximus: "But he didn't look at you the way he looked at me. It was me, m'lord."

Xavier: "He did the looking, Maximus, not you. His fixation, his strange attention. You did as I asked and stayed behind me. You didn't instigate this."

Maximus: "I -" Both fists cracked under the strain of his clench. They always look. It's always initiated by others. I cannot have a year of peace. I know this. What do I do? What do my eyes say that I cannot conceal? What am I constantly doing wrong? What did Mays see?

"Your confidence in me knows no bounds."

Xavier: "No, it doesn't." Said with complete conviction and no hesitation. "Our bond means your loyalty has been given to me. It also means mine has been given to you. You're part of my household. I will defend you, I will answer for you, and I will see you provided for."

Maximus: "Did you mean this pact when you created my summons?"

Xavier: Xavier shook his head. "I didn't anticipate it, no. That the bond would beget loyalty I knew. The rest of it? It's because it's you."

Maximus: "I don't deserve it."

Xavier: "And I don't deserve a beautiful estate and an enviable art collection and wardrobe. But I have all of that anyway."

Maximus: He could control this, so long as he kept his grip. If he clenched enough to bleed, then he could keep silent. The town was within sight.

Xavier: Within sight and quickly getting closer. Should he stop talking or try to diffuse or distract?

"If we're very lucky, there could be a time limit on the spell's efficacy. I wonder if transporting the frames out of the house would help. I could make actual copies of them and keep the enchanted originals in the warehouse."

Maximus: "I think we should call him. I want to know why, and what's to come of this. Or see to him."

His fingers released, revealing rows of crescent blood.

Xavier: "Seeing him might be asking for trouble. We'll find a phone box and give him a call."

Maximus: "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I won't tell him the spell is affecting you. I'll tell him it's affecting a member of my household staff. I learned long ago not to provide details unless explicitly asked for them."

Maximus: "He'll know," he said, forcing himself to heal. In doing so, a wave of calm washed over him. He felt the tension release from his muscles of their own accord.

Xavier: "Perhaps, perhaps not. For all he knows I have a full accompaniment of maids, footmen, and hall boys."

Maximus: Without word, Maximus disappeared from the moving vehicle. Appearing on the side of the road next to the small, lonesome post office.

Xavier: He should've been surprised, but considering what he had guessed about the spell--and what Maximus had admitted--his butler's disappearance came as no shock. He could only imagine what Maximus was stopping himself from saying.

The car was parked and Xavier soon joined his butler. "Would you like to listen in on the call or would you rather stay out here?"

Maximus: A cigarette rested between his lips as His Lordship made his approach. He faced away as he apologized.

"I shall do whatever you think is best, m'lord," said softly, a gust of smoke with each word.

Xavier: “I’m asking what you want. I don’t want you to be uncomfortable. More uncomfortable, I should say. You’ve had a long day.”

Maximus: "I want many things. I want to say your name and I want - I want to finish this cigarette and forget today."

Xavier: Xavier nodded and tried to offer what he hoped was a reassuring smile. "Finish your cigarette. I'm going to go make this call and hope it bears fruit."

Maximus: Yes, Xavier, he thought. He turned his back on him entirely, taking a long, agonizingly slow drag in the hopes of burning his lungs.

Xavier: It wouldn't be held against him. This was turning into a very, very strange day.

Xavier excused himself and stepped into the booth, closing the door behind him. He called the long-distance operator and asked to be put through to Aello's shop, simultaneously hoping the man would answer and dreading that he would.

Maximus: The line connected after two to rings. The silence which followed, however brief, swelled with an aura of anticipation. The voice on the other line was no less grand and humored as it had been in October.

"Rossmara, how fortunate to receive you."

Xavier: The greeting gave Xavier pause. He hadn't given Aello the name Rossmara. He'd given him his vessel's name. Deidrich.

"Good evening, Mr. Aello," he said evenly. "Should I venture to guess that you've been expecting my call?"

Maximus: "You may venture much! It might all bear fruit. At any rate, I am very pleased to hear from you."

Xavier: "I wish I could say I'm calling under pleasant circumstances, Mr. Aello. I have a bone to pick with you."

Maximus: "You make it sound so unpleasant. I hear it in your tone. Quite sour. Though such matters should be discussed face-to-face, you and the young master might have qualms. I promise you there would be none. Would you prefer Rossmara, Deidrich, or Atlas?"

Xavier: "Well, I must confess that I am quite sour, whatever you see fit to call me. I would prefer to know why a legitimate purchase from what I assume to be a legitimate business has resulted in the maiming of one of my members of staff."

Maximus: "Maim? Maim?!" A full-bodied laughter crackled the line. "Heavens no! No, he is quite safe."

Xavier: "I'm afraid to disagree. Blood has been spilled absent cause, Mr. Aello."

Maximus: "Only in being unfathomable to you is it absent anything. I promise it was just a drop. A drop of knowledge beneficial to the both of us. I needed to know his structure."

Xavier: "May I ask why? Have we committed some offense against you, in this life or a past one?"

Maximus: "Offense? My good demon, there is no offense made! Only in regard to the creatures that wound the little doll without releasing the key."

Xavier: "Am I to understand that you contrived to steal blood in order to help?"

Maximus: "As I previously stated, I wished to understand his structure. His aura was covered in brambles he did not intentionally grow, from a single vine planted years ago. I had to see his unguarded underbelly. I'm so very glad I did. Do forgive me, but I believe I can give him, what shall we call it...a more suitable forever home, should you allow me to just take him off your hands. I have been looking for such man for what feels like a millennium."

Xavier: "Well, Mr. Aello, you're going to have to continue your search for a while longer. He is not a frame or some other commodity that is for sale and I am not going to part with him. He is under my care and begging your pardon, I think he is in the most suitable home he can be in. What's more, he is currently in distress and I would very much appreciate your insights into how I might relieve it."

Maximus: "As we are begging pardons, I must ask one of you. Everything has a price, and despite your fairness for buying full price, you are a demon with another demon under your thumb. Surely, it would be of no great effort to find yourself another."

Xavier: "It's not a matter of effort, Mr. Aello, it's a matter of loyalty and principle. Shocking, I know."

Maximus: "How much is he worth to you? Substantial comfort? Riches? What about pain? How much are you willing to sacrifice to keep him? Everything has a price. Name his worth and I shall concede."

Xavier: Xavier's jaw clenched. He looked to the man outside, suddenly struck with how much he had come to mean in a mere two months.

"Not everything, Mr. Aello," he said softly. "How much would it cost me for you to leave us alone? To leave him alone?"

Maximus: A rumbling hum. "Do you like him this way? Honest? Have you heard a venomous word from his lips?"

Xavier: "He did not choose to be this way. He is not comfortable this way. I was not exaggerating when I said he was distressed, nor was I being facetious when I asked you how I might relieve it."

Maximus: "I am giving you the release, should you answer my question. There is no need for all of that, Your Lordship."

Xavier: "I like him the way he is, not the way the spell is making him be." As much as he wanted Maximus to be more open and comfortable around him, Xavier had no intention of forcing it and he didn't care to see someone else forcing it. He owed Maximus more than to have someone change him on a whim. He didn't want someone to change him, he liked his butler precisely the way he was, absent artifice or embellishments.

Can you hear that in his voice, Mr. Aello?

Maximus: A long calm silence followed. "And the unkind word? Has there been one?"

Xavier: "No, there has not."

Maximus: "Truth without spite. Truth gentle and sweet like nectar. One day you will realize you cannot keep him to breast. When that day comes, it is my sincere hope you remember the name Aello. Have him drink from honeysuckle. Place your thumb to his forehead, and his underbelly shall be armored once more."

Xavier: Xavier heaved a long, silent breath of relief. "I do not know how much you know of me, Mr. Aello, but if there's one thing I'm proficient at in this life, it's holding the things that matter to breast. I thank you for your assistance."

Maximus: "I do it for Master Fairchild, my good demon. I will take a knee for now, but this will not be my final hello and goodbye. To your health and good fortune." Only a moment later did the line sever.

Xavier: "So do I," Xavier murmured to himself once the line disconnected. "So do I."

He took a moment to compose himself and rejoined Maximus, face all smiles. "You'll soon be feeling like yourself, Maximus."

Maximus: His servant was well into his second cigarette. His master's presence was enough cause to stamp the ember on the pavement.

"May I ask what happened?"

Xavier: "I asked him for help and he gave it to me."

Maximus: "But...But why...?"

Xavier: "Why did he do it or why did he help?"

Maximus: His posture, though correct, lacked a little something in the shoulders. "Both, please."

Xavier: Xavier found and held Maximus’ gaze. “He wanted to take you for himself and when I refused to give you over he relented and told me how to break the spell.”

Maximus: "Take me, m'lord? I'm nobody. Nobody to notice like that."

Xavier: “It would seem that you are.”

Maximus: "I...I'm sorry. It was my fault, as I said."

Xavier: “You can’t be faulted for existing, and I won’t fault you for existing.”

Maximus: "You're not a demon."

Xavier: “Then I really would like that whole sulfur business to come to an end.” Dare he hope for a smile?

Maximus: Rather than a smile, he closed his eyes. Nothing so harsh as though in self-beration. It was as though he'd been kissed on the cheek.

Xavier: Too soon for hope. Tomorrow was another day.

“Come. We must procure some honeysuckle.”

Maximus: "This was a fae if ever one were to craft a spell."

Xavier: “Couldn’t have said it better myself. It’s rather disarming to have my aliases known.”

Maximus: "He knew you?"

Xavier: Xavier nodded and led the way back to the car. "Yes. When he first answered me called me Rossmara, and later on he asked if I preferred to be called Atlas, Rossmara, or Deidrich."

Maximus: "Everything he does is based on truth, from the moment we met him."

Xavier: "Including his spell." He telepathically opened both their doors. No humans around to see at the moment.

Maximus: "There's honeysuckle at home. If you would prefer to go home, I will drive the car back, m'lord."

Xavier: "Ah, very good. Then we've only to stop at the fabric shop." And he would be driving.

Maximus: "I take that as a no, then." He made his way around to the passenger's side.

Xavier: "Tomorrow everything can return to normal. Today, let me look after you."

Maximus: He resorted to biting his tongue. Stop making me feel wanted.

"As you wish, Lord Atlas."

Xavier: "Thank you. Off we go, then."

They managed to arrive at the shop just before the owner was set to close, and even then they were only granted entry because the woman knew theirs was a big, high paying job.

Xavier handed over the fabric, money, and his requirements in short order and they were soon on their way back home.

Maximus: Maximus resorted to standing outside. He felt so inappropriate and useless. How they could return to what they were after his appalling behavior he didn't know. A decision needed to be made, one which forced the childhood habit of biting his thumbnail and hugging himself. He was vulnerable, and his reputation forever tarnished.

Back in the car, he stared out his window.

"Just after the gate, the honeysuckle is that way," he gestured.

Xavier: Xavier looked in the direction Maximus indicated and nodded.

Before they got to that, there was something he needed to say.

"Do you remember," he began softly, "what you asked me that afternoon we had tea at the Plaza?"

Maximus: Moistened lips parted, a gentle utterance of yes. Of course he remembered that afternoon. "But things are different now, aren't they?"

Xavier: "No, they aren't." He brought the car to a stop and turned to Maximus. "Aello thought he could offer me something in exchange for you. He asked me to name my price because he assumed I was like many of our brethren, absent principle and consumed by greed. So I told him what I'm about to tell you."

Only when he was certain Maximus was listening did he continue. "You are not a commodity to me. You are not something to be traded or sold. I told you that you were mine and you are mine. I will not allow someone to try to undermine our bond, remove you from your home, or hurt you on a whim. Not Aello, not anyone."

Maximus: When the car came to a halt, his anticipation spiked and plummeted, and again when his master turned to face him. An unpleasant knot had formed on the back of his neck from the stress. His mind and body could not come to an agreement.

For once in their brief history, he felt the difference in their ages. He was his first; he could not blame the demon for his gracious ignorance.

"When you were handed that scrap of paper, you were given the promise of a slave. No matter how beguiling your words, you know. I am yours. You will not allow anyone else to have what belongs to you. Your kindness has its limitations. You can't even set me free, had you a mind to. I would be given to someone else in less than an hour. No matter the gesture, you will always be master."

Whether it was Aello's intention or not, he had given Maximus a shallow form of his expectation. One way or another, he knew Xavier Atlas would hurt him. His altruism was an affliction.

"I'm going to get out now, m'lord," he whispered.

Xavier: He could strangle that bleeding Fae. He still had a mind to. Veiled threats didn’t sit well with him and that’s what Aello truly was.

“I don’t know how much honeysuckle we’ll need,” he responded softly. “I’ll grab a bunch. The spell won’t take more than a few moments.”

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord." The door was shut gently behind him.

Xavier: Sighing, Xavier went to park the car before going in search of honeysuckle, mildly annoyed at himself for not asking how much.

There was precious little nectar in each flower so....surely a bouquet would do. If more was needed he’d bring every last flower back to the house.

Maximus: Maximus remained in the woods on the grounds. He'd found a bush covered in pale pink honeysuckle and felt no inclination to move. His master would find him eventually.

Xavier: Xavier had gotten to know the woods surrounding his estate rather well since they'd been here and found Maximus rather quickly. He was eager to be done with this.

"Maximus?" he called softly to announce his presence.

Maximus: His servant turned, a tiny flower pinched between his fingers. "The day started out so well," he said softly. "With all things considered."

Xavier: "It did. You'll like Massimo's work. He only gives his best, even more so when it's someone he likes."

Maximus: He had nothing to say in regard to Massimo. His impulse told him to offer the flower to his master, and so he did.

Xavier: Xavier accepted it, and offered the bouquet in return. "You have to drink the nectar while I say an incantation." He paused for a beat. "It requires that I touch you."

Maximus: "You don't have to seek permission," he said without thinking. At this point he just accepted his fate while he knew it to last.

Xavier: He didn't respond verbally, but his look very clearly said 'yes I do'.

"I have to press my thumb to your forehead. It will only take a few moments."

Maximus: For everything this spell forced from his quiet thoughts and untouched impulses, looking at a tiny pink flower and deciding it to be edible had not crossed his mind. He closed his eyes. Without apology, the honeysuckle was placed on his tongue. Bitter petals and a sweet surprise.

Xavier: "Keep eating them until I finish. Just to be safe."

With greater care than he could remember doing anything, Xavier pressed his thumb to Maximus' forehead and began the incantation.

"Truth without spite," he murmured. "Truth gentle and sweet like nectar."

Maximus: Those were the words meant to be said during this spell? Had the spell been designed that way, or was this meant to reflect himself? Eyes opened, looking at his master with confusion. He...had nothing to say. His compulsion to embarrass himself had dissipated.

Xavier: The confusion caught him off guard. "Are you all right? Did it work?"

Maximus: "What does that even mean, m'lord?" asked quietly.

Xavier: "The incantation?"

Maximus: For some reason the words upset him. They were too syrupy in his regard.

He realized he had yet to speak.

"It's over."

Xavier: Shoulders he hadn't noticed were tense relaxed. "Good. Excellent. That's the incantation Aello gave me. I didn't question it."

Maximus: While the man in front of him began to square his own.

He couldn't let go of their words. Gentle and sweet like nectar. Was that supposed to be him?

"Then I shall not either," he lied.

Xavier: "If you find the effects are only temporary or more present themselves, tell me immediately. I wouldn't put it past that blasted Fae to continue to play games."

Maximus: His expression had lost its mellow. The same gaze just shy of his master's eyes. "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "Even the tiniest thing amiss. Now that I know doing so won't hurt you, I'll cleanse the frames tomorrow and see about having a telephone put in."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord. Shall I get started on dinner?" Perhaps his appetite had reappeared since their ordeal.

Xavier: "Yes, thank you." He needed a meal, a drink, and a long brood.

Maximus: With a quick little bow, he turned and headed towards the house.

Xavier: Xavier waited until Maximus had disappeared inside before letting out a long sigh. How was it only dinner time? The day had felt eternal.

Then again, unwanted and insidious Fae magic tended to do that.

"And we're meant to be the demons," he muttered, heading up to the library to begin his drinking and brooding.

Maximus: The menu was an uncomplicated three course meal. Bourbon stout French onion soup with beef consommé, Louisiana beef stew served in bread bowl, a single serving apricot gelatin salad. A bold red wine would be poured from his left, without word or prompt. A subtle white for dessert. His toy soldier had returned to customary form. Sober, sharp features and immaculate dress; white gloves included. If offered to join, he would say he was replete from taste testing. Eyes forward, quiet in his corner of the room.

Xavier: Xavier wanted nothing more than to have his household returned to normal, so of course Maximus would be invited to join him. He still held hope that one day his butler would simply sit at the table without prompt or invitation, but just now with Maximus' refusal that hope felt very small.

"Maximus," he said at last, looking up from his stew. "Please sit down. You don't have to eat if you don't want to or speak to me or even look at me, but please sit down."

Maximus: I'd rather not, he wanted to say, but refused. Quietly, instead, he took the furthest seat at the table. Fingers laced together and rested in front of him on the table.

Xavier: Having expected Maximus to politely decline once more, it was a pleasant surprise that he'd actually sat. Perhaps things weren't quite so hopeless.

And perhaps his optimism was due to the wine selection and hearty food. Impossible to tell at the moment.

"Splendid work," he said softly. "Everything is delicious."

Maximus: "Thank you, m'lord," said just as softly.

Xavier: "There's a delivery coming tomorrow from Bordeaux. Six cases of wine, four red, two white. I've already settled the bill."

Maximus: "Very good, m'lord. I'll see to it."

Xavier: "We'll go to the post office tomorrow morning and inquire about getting a telephone put in. Perhaps two, one for each end of the house. Perhaps the library and the butler's pantry?"

Maximus: Again, "Yes, m'lord."

Xavier: "I would also like to finally see to the record players and radios and a television set for my sitting room. Would you like one?"

Maximus: "I have my radio, m'lord. Thank you."

Xavier: "I meant a television set."

Maximus: "I mean I am content."

Xavier: Xavier nodded. "Very well."

Maximus: Maximus subtly gestured to his plate, asking without words if he was finished with his main course.

Xavier: He nodded again. Yes, he was finished.

Maximus: Then dinner would be traded for dessert, and without having to be told, he returned to his seat, as he supposed his master would desire.

Xavier: It was an inkling of what he desired, but he appreciated it nonetheless.

Maximus was thanked and complimented again, for the dessert and the wine selection.

Maximus: "Do you like movies, m'lord?" A question to break the silence.

Xavier: Another pleasant surprise.

"I do, yes. Very much."

Maximus: "When we were in town, I saw a poster for Invasion of the Body Snatchers."

Xavier: His interest piqued, and it showed. "Did you indeed? Is it playing now or sometime soon?"

Maximus: "This weekend, m'lord. Would you like for me to get you a ticket?"

Xavier: "Yes, if you get two."

Maximus: "Oh..."

Xavier: Xavier nodded. His offer was on the table and he wouldn't elaborate. If Maximus agreed to come then splendid, they'd have a nice evening at the pictures. If not, no pictures and no harm done.

Maximus: "Saturday afternoon, m'lord?" he eventually conceded.

Xavier: At last, a soft smile. "Saturday afternoon sounds lovely."

Maximus: "Very good...m'lord."

Xavier: Xavier nodded again, much more cheerful as he finished his dessert.

#The Truth in the Frame chapter #maximusfairchild

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