#anyways i am now keeping inventory of all my mats

[commandantexekial]

(Lee walks by Exekial’s office to see Exekial shuffling a bunch of Black Cards, muttering to himself, surrounded by piles upon piles of materials.)

Lee [Entropy]: Commandant? What are you doing?

Exekial: Hm? (Looks up) Oh, hey Lee. I’m counting my funds for Lucia’s new frame.

Lee [Entropy]: Pyroath?

Exekial: Mm.

(Lee enters the office out of curiosity. He cranes his neck over Exekial’s shoulder as Exekial punches some numbers in a calculator.)

Lee [Entropy]: (Frowns) Didn’t we have more black cards? Why do we only have 15k?

Exekial: (Drops a Harmony Accelerator on the ground and frowns at it) I figured that with the accelerated patches, I could try to get Watanabe his weapon. Easily build the funds back and all.

Lee [Entropy]: I see… and did you manage to obtain it?

(Judging by Exekial’s expression, the answer was a resounding no.)

Exekial: (Stoops to pick up the Harmony Accelerator before turning back to take inventory) The only good part about the entire thing was that I scrapped enough together to get Echo a good bow. Now she and Alpha can actually deal some real damage in PPC and War Zone.

Lee [Entropy]: (Crosses his arms) I still can’t believe you replaced me with an Ascendant of all people.

Exekial: (Looks at Lee guiltily) Sorry, Lee. Alpha’s just easier to play, and her leap really takes some of the burden off the powercreep. (Turns back to pile of materials) On the bright side though, I don’t intend to leave you in the dust for too long. I’m gonna get you your Hyperreal frame and Liv her Empyrea frame.

Lee [Entropy]: (Scoffs) A waste of funds, if you ask me. Hyperreal’s already powercrept by Pyroath. (Frowns) And why are you getting Liv’s Empyrea frame? Wouldn’t she get hurt using it?

Exekial: Normally, yes, but remember? We’re outside the bounds of canon when it comes to gameplay. (Taps head) Liv won’t be harmed if she has Empyrea here. Also seeing as she’s the only Fire Amplifier in the game right now, I kinda need her to boost Lucia’s Pyroath capabilities.

Lee [Entropy]: (Wryly) Careful, Commandant, your favoritism is showing.

Exekial: Not at all. And as for Hyperreal, I just think you’re one of the better units to play. Your gameplay’s fun to use, and besides, this is the first time all of you will have the same element. I can’t pass up the thought of having a full Fire Gray Raven team now, can I?

Lee [Entropy]: Now you’re just trying to flatter us.

Exekial: (Shrugs) Flattery or not, it’s the truth. Although, if you’re truly worried about funds, don’t worry. I’m planning on getting your frames from the Selectors.

(Lee doesn’t say anything in response. He picks up one of the Memory Resonance Pick chips and examines it. That’s when he notices the corner filled with skulls. Lots and lots of skulls.)

Lee [Entropy]: Uhhh, Commandant? What is that?

(Exekial turns in the direction Lee is pointing towards. A sheepish expression comes across his face.)

Exekial: Oh, that. Well… (Scratches the back of his neck.) I might’ve tried to attempt Ultimate PPC.

(Lee blinks once. Twice.)

Lee [Entropy]: You what.

(Before Exekial can respond, the door to the lounge opens. Enter Lucia, Ayla, Watanabe, Alpha, and Alisa. All of them are in various beaten up states, with Watanabe having the least amount of scratches.)

Watanabe [Epitaph]: Hm. Well, that was quite a different experience than what I’m used to.

Lucia [Crimson Abyss]: Speak for yourself. Our team barely made the time limit for the last stage. (Begrudgingly jabs a thumb at Alisa.) As much as I hate to admit it, it’s only thanks to her that we managed to beat it at all.

Alisa [Echo]: (With Cecily hovering over her shoulder) I’m glad I can be of service.

Lucia [Crimson Abyss]: Tch.

Ayla [Kaleido]: We weren’t able to make the time limit of the last stage, but Lucia and I still managed to score high enough to get 20 black cards! (Holds the black cards up with a bright smile.)

Lucia [Plume]: (Comes up to Exekial with a solemn expression) Commandant, I request that we never do that ever again.

Exekial: (Rubs the back of his neck sheepishly) Sorry, Lucia. I should’ve known that this week wouldn’t be a good matchup of any of our abilities. But, on the bright side, I got enough skulls to SS your Pyroath frame!

(Lucia brightens at that. Alpha tsks and flicks vital fluid off her katana before sheathing it back into place.)

Lucia [Crimson Abyss]: If our business is done here, I’ll be heading back to my sister now.

Exekial: Alright, Alpha, take care. I’ll see you next week, yeah?

(Alpha only makes a vague gesture as she walks out of the lounge. Everyone watches as the door shuts forcefully behind her.)

Watanabe [Epitaph]: (Wryly) Just as pleasant as the day I first met her.

Exekial: I’m assuming your battles went well, Watanabe?

Watanabe [Epitaph]: (Scratches his chin) Well, it wasn’t exactly a walk in the park, but BLACK★ROCK SHOOTER and I did as well as we could’ve hoped, considering our enemy didn’t have reduced Fire resistance.

Lucia [Plume]: Speaking of, where is she?

Watanabe [Epitaph]: (Shrugs) Not sure. She said something about “taking care of business” and disappeared. But I’m sure we’ll still see her around, at least until Lucia gets her new frame.

Lee [Entropy]: Commandant and I were just talking about that, actually.

Watanabe [Epitaph]: Lucia’s new frame?

Lee [Entropy]: Mm.

Ayla [Kaleido]: (Throws her arms around Lucia and nearly throws her off-balance) I can’t believe Lucia’s leaving me to handle the Ice Team all by myself! We’re already missing a Tank and now we’re losing our only Attacker T_T

Lucia [Plume]: (Sweatdrop) I won’t be leaving you all by yourself, Ayla. I’m sure Commandant has a plan so you aren’t left all alone.

Exekial: Indeed. (Taps terminal and brings up the blueprint of Wanshi’s new frame) HQ informed me that Wanshi’s new frame is coming out right before Lucia, but he’ll be in the dorm shop. I’ll have enough saved by then to grab him.

Ayla [Kaleido]: Oh! Well, if you say so, Commandant. (Lets Lucia go) But I’ll be holding you to your word!

Exekial: (Wryly) I wouldn’t expect anything less of you, Ayla.

Watanabe [Epitaph]: (Stretches and checks his pocketwatch) My comrades are probably getting worried about me, so I’ll have to head out for now. (Waves at Exekial) Same time next week?

Exekial: You know it.

Alisa [Echo]: I’ll take my leave as well. Supposedly there’s still another branch of Utopia that hasn’t been crushed yet. (Performs a complicated farewell salute) Until next week, Commandant.

Exekial: (Bewildered) Uh… sure. Until next week.

Ayla [Kaleido]: (Yawns and checks time) The WGAA probably wants me to finish that painting. Guess I’ll have to pull another all-nighter tonight. (Waves cheerily at Exekial) See you soon, Commandant!

(Everyone leaves one by one. Soon, all that’s left in the Gray Raven lounge is Exekial, Lee, and Lucia.)

Lucia [Plume]: Oh yeah, where’s Liv?

Lee [Entropy]: I think she went to the Science Council for something. Not sure what.

Exekial: She’ll be back before we know it. In the meantime though… (Rubs chin, absentmindedly staring at his office door) I need to take inventory of all the materials I still need for Pyroath. We’re running a bit low on Memory Enhancers and EXP Pods…

Lucia [Plume]: (Frowns) Can’t that wait until tomorrow? The bags under your eyes are rather dark, Commandant…

Exekial: Mm, maybe you’re right. It’s not like I have anything else to do while I wait for your banner anyways.

Lee [Entropy]: (Amused) Don’t forget it’ll still be another four months until it finally rolls around.

Exekial: Don’t remind me.

------------

a/n i'm going insane

[100dayswonder]

☆ 03. it’s september 6 2024

and i'm writing this as a small work break - which i deserve!! because i packed and shipped some orders today!

i do wish that the mail slot was a liiiitttle bigger though because if a customer orders a large quantity of items then i can't mail it through the mailbox and have to get it dropped off...

it's probably fine though because i do have to ship off some of leia's things that i got for her from july (and it's september now... oops..)

i've been miraculously productive today and it's only 16:30?!?! normally that's when i've been awake for like

2 hours LOOOL.... ..

that's not super something to be proud of but it's nice that i was able to get quite a lot done. in particular i wanted to reorganize my charms because it's frustratinggg!!! trying to pack orders and having to sift through all of my charm designs!!!

so i invested in a bead organizer except i didn't realize how small the compartments would be, but luckily you can remove some of the dividers to make more space so i was able to do that!!

it's a great visualizer for what i need to restock this upcoming month.. although thinking about my upcoming inventory order has me feeling sick to my stomach HAHAHA..... ha.

i just keep telling myself that it's alright to invest this much since technically i am going to be tabling again very soon and the event in question typically has good attendance!!

i'm trying to focus on beefing up on my paper goods as well so hopefully that'll help me phase out some of my acrylic goods... yes... we're a sticker shop now... i even invested in new mats which reminds me i did buy the wrong size mat, but i can just return them... nods.. it was a lazy mistake on my part really...

anyway on a more menial note things between me and my crush are kind of?!!! ... well i don't really know

but she still views my insta stories so i'm able to breathe something like a sigh of relief?? maybe... mm

it's odd because part of me is definitely still holding on but not in like a desperate way and another part is just like whatever! you have too much to worry about!! reconnecting can happen at any time, so focus on your work!!

which i've been doing. until now. well i'll get back to work in a second, i think i just needed a breather because i kind of inhaled an entire mug of black tea, then ordered a 24oz london fog to go with my ham and cheese croissant...

and then i'm having another sandwich for dinner...

after this cold completely clears i want to start exercising a little because i did gain a little weight (i don't weigh much to begin with but being two pounds over my usual has me concerned a bit..)

even then i've been wanting to exercise anyway because i'm getting older, so i need to be more proactive in taking care of my health!!!

[mrsalwayswrite]

To Call Forth Love - Chapter 9

Yay! Next chapter! True confessions, this *sorta* slow burn is killing me....and i’m the one writing it! (sorry not sorry?)

Warnings: some swearing, nothing really, Hvitserk being a good bro?

Words:7100 (I hope these longer chapters make up for the wait)

Tag List: @youbloodymadgenius @evelynshelby @pomegranates-and-blood @deans-ch-ch-cherrypie @heavenly1927 @zuxiezendler @punkrocknpearls @love-all-things-writing @southernbe​

Series Masterlist

The ringing of her phone had Kari dropping the leggings she was folding on her bed to quickly snatch it up. 

 "Albus!"

 The voice on the other end sighed. "You know I hate that nickname."

 Kari laughed, picking the leggings back up to fold. "But it fits you so perfectly."

 "I am not an old wizard."

 "I'll give you that, but you're studious, kind and too wise for someone your age. So close enough."

 "I suppose if I haven't been able to convince you to drop that nickname for the past ten years, I won't be able to now."

 "Nope." She cheerfully said. "So, how are you? Your mother still wreaking havoc in your life?"

 "She set me up on a date last week." He grumbled after a moment's hesitation. 

 In her mind, she could imagine him sitting at his desk with a slight furrow between his brows and lips pursed as he lamented his mother's involvement in his love life. This would not be the first time he complained to Kari about this topic. "Ohhhh? How did that go?" She asked, even if by his tone she could already guess his answer. 

 "I know my mother means well, but the women she thinks I should date…." He trailed off with a forlorn sigh. 

 "Not your type?"

 "No."

 "I'm sorry. You'll find someone and your mother won't be able to help but love them."

 He snorted inelegantly. "I won't hold my breath for that."

 "See, you're so wise." She teased, smiling as she folded a work shirt. "Now, what else is new since last month?"

 The two spent the next hour talking. It had become their tradition after she moved. Hearing the gentle cadence in his voice, his quiet chuckles, it sent a wave of nostalgia washing over her. He was the only person from England she still kept in communication with, the only one who knew where she was. The last string tying her to her prior life. Although she would not have labeled him her best friend, they were certainly close and even more so after she moved. In their monthly conversations, they would chat about anything new in their lives, TV shows watched, books read, his latest exams in university. He always made sure to inform her what he knew about her family. Something she was grateful for but it always felt like a knife to the heart after. 

 As they talked, she finished folding her laundry, a necessary evil in her opinion. Once done with that, she moved on to the package she received in the mail today. It was addressed to her but the sender was a designer name she would never be able to afford in her lifetime. She shook her head, wondering what surprise the youngest Lothbrok had bought for her. 

 Listening to him regale her with the latest family drama of his, she opened the package and had to muffle a gasp at the two dresses that lay inside. The first was an off-the-shoulder, black skater dress that would reach mid-thigh in length. It was a classy and elegant cocktail dress that reminded her of the dress she wore on her and Ivar's "date" but way more sophisticated and stylish. It was the second dress that made her pause and wonder where Ivar thought she would ever wear something like this. It was a deep red evening gown, the hem long enough to trail slightly on the ground. The dress was gorgeous with a tight bodice and slight flair of the skirt. It was the slit in the skirt that touched her upper thigh and the sheer middle of the bodice that made Kari raise her eyebrows. The gown was the perfect blend of chic and sexy. What was Ivar thinking? She would feel so self-conscious and she never went anywhere fancy enough to wear it. Though as she stared at both dresses, she decided it never hurt to admire them on the hanger, even if she never got the chance to wear them. As her friend continued speaking, she hung both dresses up in her closet, making a mental note to talk to Ivar. 

 "It's probably good your brother moved out last year." She commented, tucking her laundry basket away in her closet. 

 "Yeah. He only comes over to the house if he has to." He said with a resigned sigh. After a long moment of silence, he spoke up again. His voice hesitant, almost remorseful, as what had been obviously on the tip of his tongue finally came forth. "Your mother has been talking about trying to find you again."

 Kari froze, her mind shorting out and heart rate skyrocketing as his statement sunk in. "What…. what did she say?"

 "Not much that I overheard." He confessed, sympathy in each word. "How much she misses her only daughter and feels abandoned by you. She has been telling people that you're doing charity work in another country when they ask about you."

 "It's been almost two years… I hoped…" She slumped onto her bed, legs wobbling and mind whirling. 

 "That your mother would forget about you?"

 "I don't know. I just…. I don't know."

 Silence reigned for a moment before he spoke again. 

 "Are you ever coming home?"

 "I…. I don't think that's home anymore."

 "I miss you." He whispered. 

 Tears welled in her eyes. She took a deep breath forcing them back, but knew her shaky voice betrayed her. "I miss you too. Maybe you can come visit me here?"

 "That would blow your cover."

 "Could we meet up somewhere? You take a vacation or something?"

 "I'll consider it…." His voice trailed off, only to come back stronger. "You know, when you wanted help to leave England, I thought it was just a temporary reprieve. I didn't imagine you would stay away."

 It felt like a knife twisted in her gut, because he was right. She had never thought she would be gone this long. "I know…. I just…. I like my life here. I don't…. I don't want to go back to that."

 He sighed as if giving up on convincing her to return. "I understand. I'll always be here for you. I still think of you as one of my closest friends."

 "Same. We've known each other since we were thirteen. A few countries between us isn't going to stop that."

 He chuckled. "Right. Well, I'll still hold you to your promise. If we're both unmarried by thirty-five, we'll have a courthouse wedding to keep our families off our backs."

 "Sounds good." She laughed out, wiping the tears from her eyes. 

 "I have to go. I'll text you about when we can catch up next month."

 "Perfect. Stay safe, Albus."

 "You too, Abs."

 "Ugh! That nickname is worse than yours!" She groaned, hearing a small chuckle on the other end of the phone. "Bye!"

 After hanging up, she stared at her phone for a minute, the smile fading as her mind revisited the conversation. The weight of everything slammed into her, her body no longer able to support her under the strength of her duress. She crumpled onto her bed, curling into a fetal position, tears streaming down her cheeks. It hurt that England no longer felt like home to her, but neither did where she currently lived. What hurt and confused her most, was when she thought of being home- Ivar's face filled her mind's eye. 

 *****

 "Thank you everyone for coming to class today. I'll see you either tomorrow or next week." 

 With the lights still dim, Kari turned off the soothing water music over the speakers in the yoga studio room. The women who had been laying in corpse pose on their mats began to rise and gather up their personal items. A quiet murmur of voices replaced the music in the enclosed room. She waved at a few of the regulars as they left her class. Even if she was not the one doing all the poses, by the end of class she still felt refreshed and rejuvenated. It always brought her joy to see people come in, stressed or anxious, and leave her class with a smile on their faces or just looking less tense. 

 Through the mirrors along the wall at the front of the room, she could see the tall, statuesque blonde making her way over, yoga mat tucked under her arm. 

 "Hey, you doing anything for lunch?" Gyda asked, coming up beside her. Even in leggings and a tight tank top, she looked like someone off the covers of a women's magazine. All Kari could figure was it was in the Lothbrok blood. 

 "Um, working on inventory?"

 "How about instead you come out to lunch with us?" She motioned vaguely towards Torvi, who was gathering up her yoga mat. "We planned on stopping at that new boutique down the strip. So, we can just meet you for lunch when you're done."

 "Really?" The brunette was startled by the offer. Sure, she had gone out with Gyda a few times but never with Torvi too. The three would chat occasionally before or after class and she liked Torvi's no-nonsense attitude. They had flippantly made comments about the three of them going out but to actually hear they wanted her presence both surprised and warmed her heart. "Torvi is okay with this too?"

 Gyda rolled her eyes. "Yes. So…. Yes? No? Don't leave me in suspense."

 "Yeah, I'd love to."

 "Great. Text me when you're done and we'll meet up."

 "It'll be at least half an hour…." 

 Gyda waved her off, her voice growing louder. "That's fine. Torvi takes forever when she browses anyway."

 "Sorry, I like to think through my purchases before I buy something!"

 Kari smiled at Torvi's retort. The other blonde was checking her phone, a smile on her face though as she peered up at her sister-in-law and her yoga instructor. 

 "Are you joining us?" She called over. 

 "Of course, she is!" Gyda replied, before Kari could respond. "But she's only coming if you swear not to share any stories about you and Bjorn's kinky sex life. Nobody wants to hear that."

 Without a word, Torvi gave her the middle finger salute, before looking back down at her phone. 

 Gyda chuckled then turned to raise an eyebrow at the shorter woman. "Unless you're into that kind of stuff…."

 "Oh gods, Gyda! No!" Her face flushed at the thought. 

 "Hey, it's the quiet ones who are the kinkiest. I bet Ivar would like that." She laughed as Kari tried to swat at her. Taking a step back, she pretended to zip her lips. "Don't worry, your secret's safe with me. Text me when you're done! We can meet at the café down the street. " 

 Kari waved at Torvi as the two blondes walked out of the studio room. Quickly, she hurried to finish tidying up. It had been a long time since she felt this excited to go out to eat with some female friends. A handful of times she had gone out with some coworkers or Lydia. In the beginning she was excited when Alana would invite her out with her friends to a club or bar but Kari quickly learned that was not her scene and began making every excuse possible to not be forced out with them. She always felt like an afterthought amongst the group, especially since getting drunk nor sleeping around was not her style. This time, she had high hopes for spending time with Gyda and Torvi. It would be nice to have female friends again. 

 The door to the studio room opened and Lydia popped her head in. "Almost done? You've got a visitor out here and he's causing quite the distraction." She said with a distinct shit-eating grin and wink before ducking back out. 

 "He?" Kari questioned out loud, although her mind suspected who it was. He was the only one who ever visited her. Slipping her phone into the pocket of her maroon leggings, she gave the room one final survey, wanting it to be ready for the next class before she left. With a nod, she headed out, the door swinging shut behind her. 

 In the large open area, she understood what Lydia meant by 'causing quite the distraction'. If she paused for a moment to drink the sight in, no one could possibly know, right? 

 Ivar leaned his shoulder against a wall, arms crossed over his chest with the sleeves of his dress shirt rolled up to display his toned forearms. His dark locks were pulled back loosely in a man-bun, a few tendrils slipped free. Even in jeans, braces and smart-looking leather shoes, he looked quite handsome. With no cane in sight, it must be a good day. 

 Kari noticed more than one pair of eyes lingering on him from around the studio although he did not seem to notice as he stood there talking with Gyda and Torvi in hushed tones. The latter said something that immediately caused Ivar to narrow his eyes at her as he snapped a comment. 

 Even from across the room, Kari could read the tension in his frame and decided to intervene before he caused a scene. Walking over to them, aware of the many sets of eyes upon the group of three, she fixed a smile on her face. Once those intense, blue eyes locked onto her and his posture softened marginally, her smile transitioned into a genuine grin. "Hey, Ivar, what are you doing here?" She asked, coming to stand between him and Gyda. 

 "Do I need a reason to come see you?" He smirked down at her.

 That look released butterflies in her stomach but she ignored them to tease him back. "Usually that's how it works."

 "And if that reason is to fulfill my quota?"

 The blush that rose to her cheeks was so hot, she wondered if you could fry an egg on her face. Immediately, she dropped her chin to her chest, willing the warmth to vanish. 

 "Hmmm…. that blush for me, kattungen?" He shifted closer so his mouth was near her ear, his question asked in such a lecherous tone, Kari felt her core clench. 

 "Shut up." She mumbled, pushing him away. He rocked back on his heels, a smug grin on his face, and an amused chuckle leaving his lips. 

 Gyda patted Kari's shoulder, drawing the brunette's attention upward again. "Text me when you're done. We'll leave you with this grumpy asshole. I'm sure you can think of a way to cheer him up." She winked as she took a step away. 

 For a moment, Kari wished the ground would open up beneath her. Between Gyda's teasing comments and Ivar's blatant remarks and heated looks, Kari's face was going to be permanently red in an endless flush. 

 "Good luck on your trip, Ivar." Torvi called over her shoulder as she followed Gyda. 

 "Oi! Tell Bjorn to keep his big fucking mouth shut!" He yelled after the blondes; the tension returned with Torvi's parting statement. Glaring at the door the two women passed through, he muttered something in a foreign language as he rubbed his hand over his mouth. Briefly, his thoughts seemed to take him elsewhere but he quickly snapped back, blue eyes finding Kari once again. 

 It was only something she had realized lately, but when he looked at her, that consuming and burning gaze landing on her with all the impact of a sledgehammer, it made her feel like the only woman in the room. It was such a cliché thing, something stupid out of a romance novel, but it was the only way she could describe the feeling. When he looked at her like this, nothing else mattered in the room. She had his whole attention, all his focus. It was heady and powerful and terrifying and astounding. The weight of others watching made her skin itch but with his gaze locked on hers, lips tilted up slightly in the hint of a fond smile, she felt in the eye of a hurricane. 

 Her blue-green eyes dropped to his chest, unable to maintain eye contact when it left her feeling so flustered. Tugging on her earlobe, she quietly asked. "What are you doing here? I thought I wasn't seeing you until you picked me up for dinner tonight?"

 "Something came up." Silently, he reached over and grasped her hand, causing her head to jerk up. Intertwining their fingers, he watched her with regret in his eyes. "I have to fly out to Italy in two hours."

 "Oh. Is everything okay?" That was not what she had expected to hear. Her heart plummeted that their dinner would have to be canceled but tried not to let it show. 

 "Is there somewhere we can talk in private?"

 "Um, sure." Emotions flickering between curiosity and concern, she guided him back to the studio room. The weight of eyes lingered as they walked, especially since he refused to release her hand. A brief glance at the front counter, only to see Lydia and Sasha both staring at her with amused and proud smiles, had Kari trying to hurry out of sight with Ivar in tow. 

 Soon as the door shut behind them, hiding them from view, he pulled her against his body, one arm wrapping around her waist, trapping her against him while the other hand gripped the back of her neck. He kissed her passionately, like a man dying of thirst and only she could save him. 

 "Ivar…." She tried to pull away, aware she was at work and anyone could walk in. Instead, he held her tighter, molding her body to his. The drugging kiss that followed had her all but melting against him, knees weak and her resolve disappearing like smoke in the wind. When she opened her mouth, inviting his tongue to dance with hers, the growl that erupted from him was so thready and rough, it called to a primal part of her, making her warm all over and a tightness grow in her belly. 

 It had been two days since they had seen each other and she genuinely missed him. They had been texting during that time, but it was not the same. She missed his presence, his touch, his kisses, his grumpy comments and the way he made her laugh. Even when he annoyed or frustrated her, he still was the color in her otherwise monochromatic world. And with each day that passed, her desire to push him away fractured a little bit more. 

 When their mouths finally unlocked, both panting and lips swollen and red, she was almost shocked the nearby mirrors were not fogged up. Breathless and overwhelmed, she pressed her forehead to his, her arms around his neck. For a minute they stood there peacefully, only the sounds of their ragged breathing and the occasional noise from those outside of the studio room broke through their tranquility. 

 "What's going on, Ivar?"

 "Something with work." 

 "Does this have to do with why you've been so busy?"

 He sighed but when he spoke in a hushed tone, the rage painting each word was undeniable. "Someone on the inside has been selling information about us." She gasped, shocked but when she tried to pull away to look at him, he tugged her back against him, placing his chin on the top of her head. "I think I know who the fucker is."

 "That's why you're going to Italy?"

 "Hmmm."

 "Will you be safe?"

 That made him chuckle, pressing a kiss to her forehead. "Are you worried about me?"

 She thought about making a joke, about teasing him about his recklessness. Instead the question knocked the air from her lungs momentarily, because the truth was, she was. What little she had gleaned about his work when he needed to vent, there was still an element of danger to it. She tipped her face up to look at him, her answer a quiet murmur that did nothing to hide the emotion behind her words. "Yes…. I don't know what I'd do if you got hurt."

 The amusement in his eyes drained to be replaced with a softness that made her heart clench. He inhaled sharply and glanced away for a moment. "Fuck, kitten…." When he turned back, he kissed her tenderly, a slow melding of their mouths like the taste of her was a fine wine he wanted to sip on endlessly. There was a promise in his action, just as much as his words when he finally whispered against her lips. "I'll be safe, just meeting with a contact. That's all."

 "Okay, just please be careful." Worry still tainted her, but she trusted Ivar to keep himself safe. He had been doing this job far longer than she had known him. 

 "Don't tell anyone about what I've said. No one else knows."

 "I promise. Not a word."

 "Good girl." He swatted her ass, making her squeak and glare up at him. "I'm going to have Hvitserk check up on you later."

 "That's not necessary." She tried to say. She would hate to be a waste of time for the older Lothbrok. The look he gave her said to not argue with him. "Fine," she dramatically sighed, "maybe him and I will watch movies and cuddle since you're soooo busy. I wonder if he'd think my bed is comfy enough or if the couch is better?"

 "Don't you fucking dare." He growled, gripping her waist in a possessive hold. 

 She just laughed at how easy he was to wind up. It was mean and she knew it. 

 He nipped at her bottom lip. "Keep playing, Kari and I'll have to punish you."

 "I have no idea what you're talking about." She batted her lashes at him, failing to suppress a childish giggle. 

 He rolled his eyes, the twitch of his lips betrayed his amusement. "I need to go." He softly said though he made no move to release her from his arms. 

 With that a wave of worry and fear cascaded over her, it was unfounded she knew, but it still threatened to drag her into its depths. Not giving it a second thought, she raised up on her toes to plant a lingering kiss on his lips. 

 "You're not helping." He muttered, never removing his mouth from hers. 

 "Maybe take the next flight?"

 "Don't tempt me, vixen. I'll lock that door and have my wicked way with you right fucking here until everyone hears you screaming my name."

 Between the image he painted in her mind and his mouth having moved to her pulse point, heated arousal pooled between her legs. She gulped, her mouth suddenly dry and words sticking to her throat.

 He leaned back, a devious smirk on his lips at her obviously flushed face. "No, my priestess," he purred, a filthy, predatory glint in his blue eyes, she could not help but gasp as her knees threatened to buckle under her. "When I finally have you, it'll be somewhere I can both worship you and fuck you all night long without fear of being interrupted."

 She let out a shaky breath. "But, um…. we…. ah."

 "Soon, Vakker, blir du min." He kissed her roughly, as if sealing his words. "I do need to leave. Walk with me." He took her hand, leading her out of the studio room, giving her no choice but to walk beside him. Not that her brain was fully able to make coherent decisions at the moment. 

 As they walked towards the front of the building, she wondered if their make-out session was obvious. Her lips felt red and swollen and a blush still colored her cheeks. A glance at Ivar showed his lips fuller but he appeared so calm and collected it was unfair. 

 "Did you like the dresses?" He asked, breaking her out of her thoughts. 

 "I do. They both are gorgeous, but they're too much. I don't have a reason to dress up that fancy."

 "With me, you will. I'll get you some casual dresses too."

 "Ivar…." She whined. 

 "You need more clothes, Kari."

 "Fine. Not because I want more clothes but because I know you'll buy them for me anyway."

 He winked at her, his tone smug. "I always get my way."

 "You're unbelievable."

 They stopped beside his SUV, parked next to the sidewalk. His driver was already in the driver's seat waiting. Kari made sure to wave at the man, earning a nod back from him. The driver was a huge guy with long, thick locks of white hair and a scar on his face. He intimidated Kari but she tried to ignore that and be friendly. Even if Ivar made fun of her for it. 

 "I should be back tomorrow unless some shit comes up." Ivar stated, opening the back door. 

 "Okay. Be safe."

 "Stop worrying. Shit. I'll be fine." He remarked, sliding into his seat. Before he closed the door, he met her gaze. "I'll text you."

 She smiled in acknowledgment and stepped back, giving him a quick wave as she headed back inside and his SUV started off.  

 Lydia leaned against the front counter with Sasha and Alicia now, all three watching her with expressions ranging from amused to shocked. 

 "Um, I'm going to…. go on my lunch break now." She mumbled and hurried away to grab her purse from the office, the sounds of laughter following her. 

 The stray thought crossed her mind that she would need some new bras if Ivar was set on buying her new clothes. Not that he would see those bras, but it would be good to have…. and maybe some matching panties.

 *****

 Summer was transitioning to fall, cool undertones intermixed with the residual warmth of a September evening. 

 Kari stared at the book in her lap but the words blurred together no matter how many times she reread the same line. She loved reading outside, sitting on the small patio behind the townhouse, especially when none of the neighbors were out. She could pretend it was her own place of solace, being out in nature. The sunlight shined through the line of pine trees separating their row of townhouses from the ones behind them, bird songs mixed with the sound of traffic from the nearby roads. She much preferred this too being stuck indoors. 

 Today though, her mind drifted like the breeze, but it all centered on a conversation she had not even ten minutes ago. If she listened closely, she could hear Alana through the screen door, making her dinner in the kitchen. She knew it was not Alana's fault, but the conversation still felt like a rug had been yanked from underneath the brunette. With everything going so well in her life, of course fate had to throw her a curveball. 

 Now her mind scrambled as what to do next. 

 A sound from her left had her glance over to see Erik stepping out of his back door. A boyish grin lit up his face when he saw her. 

 "Hi, Kari. Beautiful evening, isn't it?"

 "Yeah. It is." She gave a half-hearted smile, watching as he closed the door behind him and stepped closer. 

 "Mind if I join you?"

 She waved a hand at the patio set. "Not at all." Hopefully talking with Erik would be the distraction she needed for the moment, to pull her out of her quagmire of thoughts. 

 Dropping onto the cushioned chair to her left, he ran a hand through his dirty blond hair. In jeans and a t-shirt, he appeared ready to relax for the evening. 

 "What are you reading this time?" He asked curiously. This would not be the first time he had found her outside reading. 

 She reclined on the two-person, cushioned couch, legs up and bent with her open book resting against her thighs, wearing her typical leggings and slouchy shirt. At his question, she flashed him the cover. "The Princess Bride."

 "Isn't that a movie?"

 She pretended to gasp in horror. "Yes, but the book is still a classic."

 He raised his hands in surrender, grin spreading across his face. “If you say. Not really my taste. So how was your day?"

 "Nothing exciting. Yours?"

 "The usual. Customers thinking they could do my job better than me."

 She winced. "I know the feeling."

 They made small talk for some time, talking about work and a documentary he recommended for her to watch. They argued which was the better coffee shop nearby, something they continuously disagreed on. Soon the upsetting conversation with Alana drifted to the back of her mind. It did not take long for her to close her book and set it on the ground so she could be fully invested in the conversation, especially when Erik became so animated about a topic, his hands waving around like a conductor in his enthusiasm. It was an endearing trait of his, but also alerted her to settle in because it meant he would not need much encouragement to keep talking. 

 The opening of the sliding door behind Kari stunted their conversation.

 "Kari, someone is here for you." Alana said sweetly, stepping out onto the patio. 

 Unsure what she meant and since Kari never had visitors except for Ivar, she finally turned around. Only to be met with the view of Hvitserk leaning against the doorframe, a smirk on his lips. Standing there looking quite handsome in a dark navy business suit with a white undershirt, sans tie. Even his hair was nicely pleated back, making him look very professional and attractive. 

 "What are you doing here?" She asked in surprise, wondering if he just got off work. 

 Pushing off the doorframe, he meandered past Alana to approach Kari's side. "I came to check on you." He answered easily then scooped her up like she weighed nothing, making her squeal, and casually resettled them on the couch. Now he sat where she had been with her tucked against his side and his arm behind her. She also noticed how he purposefully put himself between her and Erik but chose not to comment on that. 

 "Ivar sent you, didn't he?" She grumbled, poking Hvitserk in the chest. "I told him it wasn't necessary."

 "Well, you know him." He shrugged, that teasing smirk still adorning his lips. When she tried to poke him again, he snatched her hand and held it hostage, even as she tried to tug it back. Ignoring her, he turned his attention to Erik. "Hey, man. I'm Hvitserk."

 "I'm Erik. I live next door." He responded warily, eyeing up the man as if debating to be friendly or not. 

 "Ah." With that understanding, Hvitserk seemed to give Erik a more assessing look before peering down at Kari. "You eat dinner yet?"

 "Sorta. I'm not too hungry."

 Alana spoke up from leaning against the other chair. "If you're hungry we can order something, Hvitserk. It's not a big deal."

 Kari's head whipped around to stare at her roommate in shock. Never had Alana played the hostess to Kari or anyone she knew. Then she really noticed the coquettish look of her roommate- the fluttering lashes, the sensual biting of her bottom lip in mock innocence, the way she casually leaned against the chair in a way to best highlight the curves of her body. Kari wanted to sigh. Of course, the only reason Alana pretended to care was to try and entice Hvitserk. An attractive man in their home, it was as if Alana could not help herself. 

 Apparently the flaxen-haired Lothbrok noticed her flirtatious manner also. He tipped his head, eyes blatantly tracing over her body with appreciation. Kari could see the blonde preening under Hvitserk's gaze. 

 "Did I fuck you?"

 What confident, amorous expression on Alana's face dropped in a second. "Excuse me?"

 Hvitserk waved a hand dismissively. "Sorry, you seem familiar but I can't remember…. Did you fuck one of my brothers?"

 Anger transformed her face, making her rigid and lip curled back in a snarl. "Fuck you, asshole." She shrieked, then stormed back inside, slamming the door shut. 

 He chuckled. "Huh. I take that as a yes…. ouch!"

 Kari slapped his chest. "That was extremely rude and insensitive."

 "Why? Because it's the truth?"

 "You can't just…. ask something like that." She turned to look at the closed door, wondering if she should go apologize to Alana and check on her. After a moment's debate, she turned away from the townhouse, figuring seeking out Alana would most likely end up with a door slammed in her face. 

 Hvitserk shrugged, pulling his phone out of his pocket and checking it before slipping it back in.  

 His nonchalance baffled Kari. Did he not care that he just humiliated her roommate? Should she make him apologize? Though she doubted he would. Finally, she settled for just muttering, "you Lothbroks are unbelievable."

 "Oh, are you related to…." Erik's question trailed off. Where he once had been relaxed back in the cushioned chair, now he sat tensely, one of his hands tapping his knee repeatedly. 

 "Ivar? Yeah, he's my brother." Hvitserk said with a knowing smirk. 

 "He's, um…"

 "A crazy, mad bastard? Yeah. Don't recommend getting on his bad side."

 "I was going to say intense."

 Hvitserk threw his head back as he laughed. Even Kari smiled at the hesitant way Erik answered. Intense was an understatement for the youngest Lothbrok. "Yeah, he's family." 

 Erik then motioned between Kari and Hvitserk. "So are you two…. just friends?"

 Before Kari could explain, Hvitserk jumped in to answer. 

 "Ivar and I share her."

 Immediately Kari choked on air due to his candid response. Her gaze darted to Erik in horror, seeing his jaw dropped and eyes wide as saucers. Beside her Hvitserk cackled like a hyena at both of their expressions. 

 "That's not…. ugh! No!" Kari tried to speak, once she could functionally breathe again, only to cover her face as her words tumbled out of her mouth inelegantly. 

 "Awww, come on, Kari. You know I'm teasing." The elder Lothbrok tugged her hands away from her face, which only caused her to bury her face in his shoulder. "We know Ivar doesn't share. But if you ever get tired of his cranky ass, I'll be more than willing to show you a good time."

 "Oh my god." She mumbled to herself, completely mortified. The evening had been going so well, and now…. all of this. Whose grave had she accidently stepped on today? 

 Erik awkwardly cleared his throat as he rose to his feet. "Um, I'm going to go."

 "I'm so sorry, Erik." She elbowed Hvitserk when he refused to release her hands, earning an 'oof' from him. Turning her body to give Erik her full attention, she continued, hoping this had not ruined their friendship or his night. "I know this is last minute but do you think you can give me a ride to work tomorrow? If you don't want to, that's fine, especially after all of this, I wouldn't blame you."

 "No, no. I mean, sure. It's not a problem. Just, ah, text me when you're ready."

 She smiled gratefully at him. "I will. Have a good night, Erik!"

 "You too, Kari." He gave her his signature boyish grin. Shoving his hands in his pockets, he looked at Hvitserk. "Nice meeting you."

 "Yeah, nice meeting you too." He said back, draping his arm once again behind Kari. 

 Erik gave Kari another brief smile before disappearing back inside his townhouse, the door sliding quietly shut behind him. 

 Hvitserk continued to stare where Erik disappeared for a long minute before muttering, "boy better watch himself."

 "What are you talking about?" She sighed out, feeling the lurking sensation of a stress headache coming on.  

 "He wants to fuck you. Ivar won't like that."

 "What is with…. No. I'm ignoring all of that." She pressed the heels of her hands against her eyes. "Ugh, my evening was going so well until an hour ago."

 "What happened? That guy showed up to bother you? Want me to tell him to lay off?" His questions came out in rapid-fire, concern infused in his voice. 

 "No, Erik is fine. It's …. it's nothing like that."

 "So, what happened?"

 "Nothing important. Have you heard from Ivar?"

 He raised a brow at her dismissal but changed the subject. "Yeah, looks like he got what he needed so he'll be back tomorrow morning."

 "Oh good."

 "Hmmm…. which means he'll want to take you out tomorrow."

 "He bought me some dresses." She softly confessed, fiddling with her diamond stud earring. 

 "I'd recommend wearing one of those."

 She swatted at him, only to mirror the easy grin on his face. After a moment, she asked, "I just…. is it weird for him to do that?" 

 "What?"

 "Buy me stuff."

 "Does it bother you?"

 "I don't know."

 "If you want my advice, I'd say to let him." He lifted a finger to silence her protest. Her mouth snapped shut at his pointed look. Once he was sure she would not interrupt him, he spoke. "Ivar has never been good with…. verbally expressing affection, something I am sure he learned from our father. So he buys gifts, something he can touch and control. If he's buying you gifts, not out of obligation but because he wants to spoil you, then you mean a lot to him."

 She pondered his words and how she felt about them. Never did she want Ivar to feel taken advantage of by her, especially in regards to his money. She would rather tear her own heart out than make him feel used again. It grated slightly how freely he wasted money on her. The dresses were lovely, something she could only dream of having with her current salary. But she worked hard for her life, to be independent. Even whenever they went out to eat together, he never let her pay for her own meal. She had given up that fight already but this…. It felt different. Yet what Hvitserk said slunk back to the forefront of her mind. If this was his way of showing affection, of letting her know he cared about her, would it do more damage to refuse his gift?

 "How did you become so insightful into Ivar?" She teased, deciding to think about this more later. 

 He laughed, flicking her ear with the hand he still had behind her. "Out of necessity. I don't think anyone can fully understand him, not even himself."

 "He's complex." She agreed. 

 "That's a nice way of putting it." He tipped his head to the side to meet her gaze. "Now, tell me what happened earlier."

 "You're not going to let this go, are you?"

 "Ivar told me to check on you. If I left you trying to hide tears and he found out, he'd probably break my hands or legs, not sure how particular he would be."

 Biting her bottom lip, she debated blowing him off again. It was not his problem, she could deal with her own issues. But there was something about Hvitserk that made her feel comfortable around him. Even though he was under no obligation, he seemed to actually care about her. 

 Finally, she gave in with a sigh, laying her head against his shoulder. "Alana said…. Um, this townhouse belongs to her uncle. Him and his family moved into a bigger home and instead of selling this place decided to rent it out for a little extra cash. The rent is minimal, since he isn't renting to really make a profit. It's honestly the only way I've been able to afford being here. Well, Alana told me earlier that he is having to increase our rent. She didn't really tell me why but now it's going to be an extra 300 a month…. and I don't have that. So unless I want to find somewhere new to live, it kind of looks like I need to get a second job."

 He waited a moment before flatly stating, "have Ivar pay the extra. Fuck, he'd probably pay your whole rent if you asked him too."

 "No! I don't want that!" She sat up so fast, it was a miracle she did not fall off the couch. Her eyes turned to the brother beside her, wide and pleading. "Please don't tell him, Hvitty! I don't want him thinking I'm using him for his money. I…. I need to do this on my own somehow. I'll figure it out, honestly. I just wasn't expecting this to happen, that's all."

 "You really don't care about our money, do you?"

 "No." It broke her heart a little at the shock in his questioning tone. Did any of them ever expect someone to care about them without the influence of their money? 

 He stared off into the distance before looking back at her with a solemn expression. "I'll make you a deal. I won't say anything to Ivar about this, but if you are struggling, even if it's just one month's payment, you come to me and I'll help until you get your head above water again, got it?"

 "Why would you want to help me?" She quietly asked, meeting his gaze. 

 He smirked. "I like you. You're genuine. Plus, you're also great for Ivar. I'd like you to stick around and if this is one way to help with that, it's an easy solution." He narrowed his eyes at her as she started to protest again. "Don't fight me on this."

 "You Lothbroks are unbelievable. Fine." She laid her head back on his shoulder. "Thank you, Hvitserk…. and thanks for coming to check on me."

 "Anytime. You've got my number. Just cause you're Ivar's woman doesn't mean we can't be friends. But my offer still stands, if you get sick of him, I'll be the first to snatch you up."

 She laughed, heart feeling lighter than it had all afternoon. "Stop. I'm not Ivar's woman."

 "You keep telling yourself that."

 They sat quietly for a few minutes, watching the sky change colors. 

 "Mmmm…."

 "What?" She looked up at him. 

 He peeked down at her with a shit-eating grin. "I still can't remember if I fucked your roommate or not."

 "Gods, Hvitserk!"

 *****

 Before she fell asleep that night, she checked her phone one last time. A jolt of elation shot through her when she saw an unread text from Ivar. Her fingers fumbled with how quickly she tried to unlock her phone to read the text. 

 Ivar: good nite, kitten. C u 2morrow.

 A silly smile on her face, she replied. 

 Kari: sweet dreams, Ivar.

 After that, she plugged in her phone and curled up under her covers. Relief and excitement bled into her veins, allowing her to drift off to sleep with thoughts of the dark-haired Lothbrok coming home to her.

[this-lioness]

Just Another Update

Nothing much to see here, really

Full disclosure, I did not make either falafel, tortillas or donuts last weekend.  Instead we ended up running a bunch of errands in the morning, and by the time I would have had to start getting everything together I was like, “lol no,” and we made four cheese pasta bowls again. NO REGERTS.

This weekend we’re going to get takeout from our favorite Mediterranean place, so I guess I’m absolved from having to do much of anything this weekend either!

Actually, that’s not quite true. On Saturday we’re going to make a run to Produce Junction (not sure if this is just a local thing, but it’s basically a big produce market where you go in and yell the names of fruits and vegetables at the staff and they throw giant bags of fucking dirt-cheap produce at you, you throw cash back at them, and then run out wondering how the fuck you just bought 10 lbs for potatoes for $4.

I’ve got a whole little list going, so the plan is to get everything we can, then come home and clean / chop / cook / vacuum seal and freeze.  I don’t know what their inventory is really going to be like, but we’ll see what we can get.

One of Marc’s projects for the weekend is to install a screen door in the cat room / exercise room.

Long story short, last weekend we did a full tidy of the exercise room and Marc spackled the corner of the room where the TV needed to be mounted.  We got our hands on a bunch of puzzle-piece foam floor mats and laid them all out nearly corner to corner, then put into place the treadmill, our weights, and the fucking Fluidity barre.  We also had a spare Roku that we moved into there so that we can do guided workouts and watch TV and movies and stuff.

Rosie’s response to this was to immediately start racing around the mats at full speed, so a good percentage of them now have claw marks and gouges. *sigh*

The way this room is laid out, when you walk in from the upstairs hall there is a short, narrow passage into the room, with a wide closet immediately to your right.  We took the doors down from this closet awhile ago, and floored over the tracks, and since then have been using it as the “litter box nook”.  There are shelves above the litter boxes so there’s room enough for us to scoop them, but we can store cat supplies (travel crates and fostering stuff) out of the way.  I need to get my hands on a tension rod so we can hang a curtain to hide that part from sight.

But anyway, point being, you’re sort of “funneled” into the room past the litter box nook, after which the rest of the room opens up.  The cats need access to the litter boxes, obviously, but we’re going to install a screen door just past them, right before the room opens up, so that we can keep them from infiltrating the workout area and fucking up the mats (and tracking litter everywhere).

So that’s Marc’s project.  My overall goal for the weekend is to better organize the mass of shit that I took home from work back in March, which is currently occupying our dining room.  I’ve got another +/- 15 boxes of window envelopes headed to me shortly, so I’m going to need to figure out where the fuck to put them until it’s safe to take them back to the office.

I think I mentioned that I finally set up the sewing machine and made an (admittedly hideous, but still functional) mask.  I ordered supplies for making more on Friday but we STILL haven’t gotten the email telling us they’re ready for pickup. :/

I took my Mom out grocery shopping on Monday.  One of the local stores has “senior hour” from 6 AM to 7 AM so that older folks and the immunocompromised can shop in relative safety.  She hasn’t been out of the house in something like 6 weeks, so I figured it would be OK to suit up and take her out.  I think she was happy that she got to leave the house, and also that -- thanks to the mask -- she didn’t have to put her fake teeth in.  Gotta find joy where you can, I guess.

It was... stressful, but OK.  It seemed safe enough, there were only a handful of people in the store to worry about, but of course any shopping trip with my Mom is always some percentage of nightmare.  She can spend 15 minutes poring over which trash bag to buy (what kind, what brand, what quantity) instead of jst saying, “I need trash bags -- BOOM -- alright, onto the next item.”

We filled up -- I shit you not -- one full-sized and one half-sized shopping cart.  And this is after we’ve been going shopping for her, like, every week and a half.

I do think it was good for her to see for herself that I’m not making it up when I say that pickings are slim.  I understand that she’s limited in what she can eat, because of the whole toothlessness thing, but also she spends way, WAY too much time poring over what Jim will and won’t eat, when Jim has no reason at all to be as fucking picky as he is.

Like, if the package is the wrong color he won’t fucking eat it.  Oh, it’s the right brand but he likes it thick cut, not thin cut.  He likes this brand not that brand.

How about you’re 86 fucking years old and you’ve got people waiting on you hand and foot in the midst of a national pandemic crisis, MAYBE YOU CAN AFFORD TO COMPROMISE A LITTLE INSTEAD OF DEMANDING SOMEONE BRINGS YOU CHICKEN A LA KING. 

But that’s Jim.  He’s always been that way and he always will.  Hopefully it doesn’t get any of us killed.

Marc and I both took half a vacation day today in order to see if we can get to Lowes for what we need for the door project.  I have been trying desperately to get my hands on a chest freezer for my Mom, but no such luck -- seems like everyone else has the same idea.  Spoke to an appliance company yesterday that said there’s a nationwide backorder, and they’re not expecting any until July or August at the earliest.

We’ll do what we need to do, but hopefully we’ll be able to get one for her before this thing comes back in the fall.  At that point we can get her stuff in bulk, portion it out and freeze it, which will mean fewer trips to the grocery store for everyone.

Just trucking along though, as we do.

How are you?

[jaeminlore]

Worlds Apart | Ten

summary: we don't have a choice, the curtains have closed. i’m making a point, but you'll never know.

words: 7.8k+

category: fluff, angst, twd au

warnings: death, guns, knives, blood, violence?, the works, not that detailed so it’s p chill

a/n: i am, and i cannot stress this enough, so sorry

The barn is nearly empty. It used to be full of cows. Same with the chicken coop out front. Ten can see the farmhouse through his binoculars — knows that people live there. Humans too, not whatever undead creatures have been popping up everywhere. He wonders briefly if the farmers are even trying to ration their food. After all, their chickens are disappearing at an alarming rate. And, really, he can't see how two old people can eat so much. Sometimes he thinks of sneaking over to the house while the old farmers are on one of their weekly runs. But then again, he steals a lot of apples from their orchard already, and he's pretty sure they know. And he wouldn't even know how to prepare a chicken, so there.

He really hates the taste of apples.

There's an entire basket of the fruit hiding under his bed. He would almost rather starve then force himself to eat another apple. He glances out the window of his R.V. and sighs again. Where are those old farmers anyway? By this time, they're usually home, patching up that chain link fence they installed behind their already-sturdy picket fence. Ten knows its good to be prepared but sheesh, he's been hunkered down in this R.V. for months and he hasn't had a problem.

Seriously though, the convenience store is only three miles away. They almost always leave at dawn. Ten knows their pattern like the back of his hand. They are always home before sundown. That's when it's safest. There has to be a reason they aren't back yet. Something happened. Something bad.

Ten groans and sets his binoculars down. The old red cap that hangs above his sink is snatched up and set over his already-matted hair. He slips on a coat and grabs the only weapon he has: a pocket knife.

He sets for the farmhouse, just as the sun begins to go down.

"Hello?" He knocks three times on the screen door. Cupping his hand around his eyes he peers in, trying to figure out why they kept the front door open and the screen door locked. Not the best call, in his opinion. "My name is Ten! I live in the woods, just outside of your back paddock! I wanted to make sure you guys are safe! Hello!"

He knocks again. Nothing.

There's no activity inside. It's a big house, he knows, but it's also old, and any movement from inside would certainly let off a string of creaks and groans from the old foundation. Plus, these people aren't afraid of anything. He knows that. They're careful sure, but they aren't stupid. They know who Ten is, and they wouldn't leave him out here like this.

Ten makes a split decision and breaks the lock.

"Hello?" He calls again. Sweat forms at the back of his neck as he begins to look through all the rooms. The house is eerily normal. Every bedroom is clean, every bed is made. He reaches the kitchen and finds it strange that the table is set. His eyes drift over to the open dishwasher. The dishes inside are clean, which can only mean one thing.

Ten grabs the faucet handle and turns. When water pours out, he finds himself cheering aloud. This house must have a private well or something, if the farmers are still using a dishwasher.

"Hello?" He calls upstairs. They creak as he climbs up, and paranoia fills his chest as he realizes that no one is home. 

No one is coming home.

-

"Welp, the gas station was completely empty." You drop the empty gasoline can at Taeyong's feet. "This is the third one this week."

Taeyong ignores your whining, but you can't help but let your frustrations out. The three of you — Mark is out — have been traveling for days, hoping to make it to the shore, and yet you keep running out of gas. And yeah, you're thankful that you guys broke down near a baseball field, so you aren't completely vulnerable, but you feel so trapped.

This entire situation is just one big disaster after the next. You need a break. Taeyong needs a break. The poor boy has been trying to start a fire all day. You sit beside him and sigh. "Where's Mark?"

"Scavenging," Taeyong grunts, angrily lighting another match. "There's s rec center near here. There's no way it didn't turn into a safe place. There should be blankets, food—"

"—Walkers," you finish. "There's a higher risk at places like that."

"I know, but he insisted. ' Feels like he isn't doing enough or whatever."

"He's doing plenty," you say. You scratch the dried clay off of your boot and try to blink away the tears. "What if he doesn't come back? What if he's like Yu—"

"Don't," Taeyong whispers. "It's just us now. The others are gone. We can't dwell on the past."

There's a long silence for a moment until... "Guys! You'll never guess what I found!"

"Was it a way to call every walker within the mile to our hideout?" You quip, quickly unlatching the gate to let a flustered Mark in.

He has a duffle bag on his back, and it's filled with stuff, so you let him talk. "Theres a farmhouse, a few miles away. There was a whole list of historical landmarks at the rec center. Apparently, the farmhouse was the first house built in this town. Maybe the people who own it will let us stay."

"Or maybe they'll be gone and we won't have to ask," you mutter, unzipping his bag and extracting a stained blanket. "We should go. First thing in the morning. You remember the directions?"

"Yeah." Mark begins to help Taeyong with the fire, a small expression of pride on his face. 

You hope the farmhouse isn't a dead end. For Mark's sake.

-

Ten doesn't get any sleep. He stays up all night, waiting for the couple to return. Hoping, more like. Once dawn hits the farm, he begins to move his stuff from the R.V. to the house.

Now it's nearly nighttime again, and while he wants to sleep, he can't help but feel unnerved at the thought of being alone in such a big house. He's barricaded all of his things into one room on the second floor. He bides his time by checking the pantry's inventory. There's tons of food here: fruit preserves and frozen meat that Ten realizes the farmer's had prepared early, just in case.

He's hungry, but he can't bear to eat any of their food, so he grabs an apple and sits in the living room, waiting for a couple who won't return.

Except they do. And it's not a couple, it's three people he's never seen before. He notices them when the reach the chain link fence and begin to climb, so he knows they aren't undead. Sometimes that can be worse, though.

He scrambles to his feet and makes way for the front parlor, where he saw a gun cabinet coming in. He grabs the first one he sees — a pistol — and heads outside, a shaky bravado in his voice. "State your names and your business!"

There are three of them. The tallest one raises both his arms, and the others follow in suit. "I'm Taeyong. This is Y/n and Mark. We're looking for solace."

"Obviously," Ten mutters under his breath. Then he raises his voice. "How can I trust any of you?"

"We don't have guns," Y/n speaks up. She passes Ten a wary glance. "Just blankets and food. We were on our way to the shore when our vehicle broke down. The gas stations are empty and we have nowhere to go."

Ten eyes the three of them and notices that they all look a little malnourished. Dark circles are noticeable under their eyes and someone's stomach is definitely 

growling. "The couple who live here haven't returned. I'm waiting it out. You're welcome to wait it out with me. But—" he eyes the bag, "—you have to give me some food. All I have — that's mine — are apples."

"I've got strawberry wafers from the convenience store we looted on our way here. Two old walkers were guarding a whole stash of snacks," Taeyong says, hands still in the air.

Ten lowers his gun, gaze softening under the brim of his hat. He recalls seeing a lot of wafers in the pantry. Maybe that snack was a favorite. "I think you met the owners,"he says. He turns his back on them and makes his way up the steps. "Come inside. We can all wash up and eat something."

Mark is the first to follow him in, and Ten figures he must be the youngest, all eager and lively. Taeyong is next, and Y/n stays in the front yard, surveying the ground.

"What is she doing?" Ten questions, setting the gun back in the cabinet. "The entire yard is fenced in. And there are paddocks surrounding it. We're safe, really."

"Y/n is just making sure," Taeyong says. "Last time we didn't secure the borders, we lost people. I think it's compulsory now."

Ten feels a pang in his chest. He's been on his own for so long that he can't remember the last time he lost someone who actually meant something to him. "How long ago?"

"A month." Taeyong whispers as he eyes the front room. "It's only been a month."

The four grab whatever food they think will comfort them the most and eat in the room Ten filled with his stuff. It's obvious that no one really wants to be out of each other's sight. Ten is blatantly outnumbered, but he doesn't feel threatened. Not when Mark begins telling him a funny story, as if they're old friends.

-

You wake up feeling grosser than you did when you fell asleep. You're not tired anymore, so that's good, but your clothes are caked in a layer of sweat and dirt. You make for the bathroom and locks yourself in, hoping to get at least one shower out of this experience before disaster strikes.

Somehow you fell asleep around the stranger. Your only assurance was that he left the gun in the cabinet and didn't make any threatening moves at all. And Mark seems to trust him. Mark has the seventh sense of a dog, and can always tell when someone is untrustworthy, so you find no real fault in becoming vulnerable for an hour or so.

You find all kinds of hygiene products and refresh yourself liberally. You wash, rinse, and repeat enough times to make conservationists mad, but Ten mentioned a well system, so the water isn't going to run out any time soon. Besides, you don't plan on taking a shower every day, so this is a luxury you think you deserve.

Once every nook and cranny is free of blood, dirt, and sweat, and replaced with the warm scent of vanilla body wash and dandruff-free shampoo, you step out of the shower and wrap yourself in a cotton robe hanging on the back of the door.

You wrap it around yourself and tie two knots before you feel secure enough to approach the small, yet rambunctious group in the kitchen.

Taeyong has found eggs and a pan, and that's obviously enough for him to revive his love for cooking. Three omelets are already stacked onto Mark's plate, while Ten in tucking into what looks like his last one. "Have you eaten yet, Taeyong?"

"No," he answers. There's a warm grin on his face like he couldn't be more content if he tried. "There were like, two dozen eggs in the fridge, and Ten collected a dozen more from the coop."

"That's wonderful." You ruffle Mark's hair and laugh as he shoves your hand away, whining about being treated like a baby.

Ten looks up from his food and chuckles. "There are clean clothes upstairs if you, uh, don't want to walk around in a robe all day."

You stick your tongue out at him, finding it easier to banter now that you don't feel so gross. "If you want a turn with the robe, just ask." 

Ten rolls his eyes and returns to his omelet. "Smart-ass."

"That's me!" You holler, already halfway up the stairs. The farmhouse is huge, so there are certainly enough rooms for each of you. You find the one with the least amount of windows and decide to claim it as your own. After a small search, you find underwear, shorts, and a t-shirt to cover you. 

You bound downstairs to see that Taeyong is now sitting at the table, a couple of omelets ready for the both of you. "So, what's on the agenda today?"

Ten leans chin on his palm. "Everyone takes a shower, I guess. To be honest, we can fill the upstairs bathtub with water and use it to wash clothes. We can use it a few times before the water gets too dirty, and it'll save more water than the washing machine."

"And no more using the dishwasher," Taeyong notes. "We can wash them by hand, too."

"I can take inventory," Mark says, swallowing a mouthful of eggs. "See what we need to go on runs for."

"I'll help," you take a sip of your water. "We could go out before sunset and load up."

"I know the land," Ten says. "I should go, too."

Taeyong purses his lips. "So Ten and Y/n go on a run. Mark and I will wash clothes and make sure the animals are fed."

You clean the dishes while Mark makes a list of supplies. Most of it is paper products: toilet paper, paper towels, and pads. A few things are added on, like socks, soap, and sponges. Chicken feed if you can find it. 

With the list tucked into your back pocket and a machete clipped to your belt, you follow Ten's lead into town. Ten has a gun holster in his belt, but you're pretty sure he has no idea how to use it. His posture is nervous: shoulders tense and steps quick. "So... come here often?"

Ten snorts. "Not really. I used to steal food from the orchard — we should go picking soon, by the way, before the fruit gets rotten — and I'd go a few miles north for paper products."

You pause. "So, why aren't we going north?"

"I cleaned that place out. There's a general store just a mile up that I want to try. No one ever really went there, so it's possible not many people thought about it during all the panicking."

"Alright," you try to match his steps. "But what if there isn't any there?"

Ten shrugs. "There are a few burger joints around. Supply closets have to have something."

You're about to reply when a growl cuts you off. Ten spreads out his arms and pushes you back. "It's coming from the woods."

"And I have the melee weapon," you say, grabbing his forearm and moving it out of your way. "Watch my back."

The walker joins you both on the road, and you grimace at the way its jaw seems unhinged from its skull. "Disgusting," you mutter, bounding forward and stabbing its head in one quick sweep. "I hate doing that."

Ten holds his hand out and eyes the machete. "I can do it, if you don't want to."

You glare at Ten. "I don't need you to do things for me."

Your outburst quiets Ten. The entire trip to the general store is spent in silence, save for when you kill two more walkers, and Ten kills three with his pocket knife. There's now blood on your crisp white t-shirt. Ten has a few splatters on his jacket, but he wipes his knife on his clothed thigh and keeps walking. 

The road is quiet and long. It's so poorly paved that you can't help but wonder just how small this town actually used to be. Without actual people around, it's hard to tell where the town starts and ends. The other fact is that the place seems to be free of walkers. Or at least herds. The random straggler is welcomed, compared to how many herds you've had to fight to get here. 

You wonder if it'll last.

"We're here," Ten stops in his tracks and points to an old wooden cabin hidden by the overgrown branches of the roadside forest. 

You follow him in. It's more of a gift shop than anything. Maybe a welcome center — the type of place people stop in to pick up a map and nothing else. It's filled with little knickknacks and frivolous clothing items like thin fashion scarves and gloves. The entire place seems heavy with the farm theme, and there are a lot of souvenirs that suggest a historical museum somewhere near here. "I wonder why people didn't come back here," you say.

Ten grabs a hanging keychain with Mark's name on it and pockets it. "No one liked this town before. It's the kind of place everyone dreams of leaving. Lots of old people retire here, but obviously they didn't make it that long."

The two of you pocket whatever seems useful. Luckily, the place has a lot of locally curated goat soap and other hygiene products of that nature. This is a farming town, you think as you find a spare jar of harvested honey. 

There are paper products in the supply closet, so the two of you load up as much as you can. "We should check the bathroom, too," you say. "Sometimes they have cabinets of stuff."

Ten finishes filling his bag while you head to the bathroom. It's a one-person bathroom with the door closed, and you aren't stupid, so you grab your machete. You wiggle the knob. Locked. Someone is — or was — in there. You bang your machete hilt against the door and hastily press your ear to the splintered wood, hoping to hear some kind of growling. Something that'll tell you what you're up against. 

Instead, you hear what sounds like a whimper. 

"Ten," you hiss. "Ten, c'mere."

He hurries over, leaving his bag on the ground and extracting his knife. "What's wrong? What's in there?"

"Ten, I think it's a kid," you hiss. "Like, a human kid."

Ten purses his lips and raps his knuckles against the door. "Is anyone in there? We can help. You have to open the door."

They start crying. It's definitely a child.

You glare at Ten. "You scared them!" You turn to the door and press your palm flat against it. "We aren't here to hurt you. There are two of us. My name is Y/n. My friend's name is Ten. We came to find some supplies and return to our house. We have a house, if you'd like to come..." You trail off as the crying continues. There's really no way to go about this situation. You'd like to open the door and talk to them face to face, but you can't. And breaking down the door doesn't sound like a good way to gain a child's trust. You look to Ten for help.

Ten sits down and leans his head back against the door. "My name is Ten," he starts. "I have a farmhouse down the road a bit. It has cows and chickens, and I think there's a cat that hangs around in the barn sometimes. Do you like cats?"

Silence hangs in the air. Then: "... I like orange ones."

Ten grins at you, a break of relief on his face at the sound of a little girl's voice. "Me too! They're my favorites. What's your name?"

"...Scarlett."

"That's a pretty name," Ten compliments. He eyes a walker as it strides past the windows, and you think about getting back before dark. "Scarlett, would you like to visit the farmhouse? We can find the cat, and my friend Taeyong makes the best omelettes ever."

Scarlett's voice suddenly appears closer to the door, as if she's trying to look through the keyhole. "Does he make cakes?"

"I bet if you come with us, the two of you can bake a cake together!"

The lock clicks. You and Ten scramble away from the door just in time for a little girl to step out.

It's clear that she's been trapped in there for awhile. The bathroom smells like waste, and it's littered with empty cans and wrappers. Scarlett herself is severely malnourished. Her purple overalls hang off of her body. Her short brown hair is matted, and there's dirt and grime on the lens of her turtle shell glasses. She can't be older than seven years old, and her state makes her seem even younger.

Ten is on his knees in an instant, eye-level to the child in an effort to seem comforting. "Are you alright, Scarlett?"

She nods, blinking at the two of you. "I'm hungry."

"Right," Ten grabs his bag and slings it over his shoulder before offering his hand to Scarlett. "Then let's hurry. I bet you and Taeyong can bake that cake tonight."

-

The entire house smells like vanilla. The generator-operated oven was put into overdrive as soon as Taeyong met Scarlett. Together they baked a cake, and while it cooked, Scarlett took a bath and was given clean clothes. You had to hem a pair of underwear to get it to fit, but you found that a grown man's t-shirt worked just fine for a nightgown.

Taeyong found an old copy of The Princess Bride to read to her, and you can still hear Scarlett and Mark's laughter as they listen to Taeyong's exaggerated princess voice. 

You sit at the kitchen table, alone with a slice of cake and a mug of lukewarm water. The cake tastes like too much vanilla and even more love. You wonder where Scarlett's parents are, and if they would ever return to that bathroom for their daughter. You wonder if they were the ones who told her to hide in the first place. The day flashes through your mind and you feel regret pool in your stomach. It's uncomfortable as it settles, and you're unsure how to process everything.

Footsteps sound from upstairs, and Ten comes down. He sits across from you and steals your plate. 

You let him. 

He takes a bite of the treat and stares at you for a moment, perhaps studying your expression and the way you won't look up from your water. "What's wrong."

You shrug, but it's unconvincing even to you. "I just... Why didn't Scarlett answer me? I didn't sound scary, did I?"

Ten cards his fingers through his dark hair and gives you a smile. It looks full of pity. "I don't think it was personal. I think she just liked talking about the cat."

"How do you think she got in there?"

"Could be anything. If I had a guess, I'd say her parents told her to stay there until they came back. And then they didn't."

You frown. "How are we gonna raise a kid?"

"I dunno," Ten shrugs. "Two days ago, I was living alone in an R.V. Anything can happen."

"I guess that's true. And I think Taeyong is happy," you mutter. "Maybe Scarlett can be happy here, too."

As if on cue, a happy giggle is heard from the living room, followed by Taeyong's loud laugh. 

Ten grins at you, and his eyes seem to sparkle in the candlelight. "I think she will be."

-

As it turns out, you and Ten make a really great team when it comes to scavenging. Ten is quick and good at sneaking around, and you have a knack for finding uselful things that seem to hide it plain sight. There are no problems with the two of you, other than the occasional argument. 

You load a pistol and stick it in your belt. "Okay, so medicine."

Scarlett comes down with a fever, and Taeyong is nervous about letting it run through without any medication. Ten mentions a pharmacy a short drive away, and the two of you head out.

Ten's hair has grown out in the past weeks. You've reminded him that the farmhouse has clippers, but he seems to like the way his hair curls under his ears. 

Secretly, you like it to. You study him as he focuses on driving. He's wearing his usual red cap, letting it come down over his eyes so that it looks almost as if he can't see. Lately, he's taken to tucking his t-shirts into his jeans, and you aren't sure why he does it, but it looks nice on him. It makes him look even more handsome. 

As winter is approaching, you've taken to wearing whatever coats and sweaters you could find. Right now you're wearing an old university sweatshirt you found a few scavenging trips back. It's loose on you, but it's warm, and you feel somehow safer with your arms covered. 

The pharmacy — with it's clear doors and windows — seems fairly empty, save for a stray or two. The streets: empty as well. It feels wrong, like there's some looming threat around that neither you nor Ten can see.

He parks on the curb, and, list in hand, the two of you climb out of the car. 

You glance around and notice a large white church just across the street. "That's weird. Why is it in the middle of town?"

Ten looks up at the steeple. He shrugs. "It's a small town."

You check the release of your pistol for what feels like the hundredth time since you've been given the damn thing. You hate guns. You hate what they do to people, and you hate that you need one to survive. It doesn't help that you barely know how to use the thing. You're clumsy at best, and that's not good enough here. The amount of times Ten has covered your ass because you're not good with firearms is too many to count.

You holster it and grab your machete instead, more comfortable with hand-to-hand combat. 

Ten follows your lead and takes out his knife. "Okay. Ready? Stay close to me."

It's something he says before every raid, and you find it more reassuring than anything. "Got it." 

The two of you open the pharmacy door together and begin your walk, back to back through the store. Your first concern is clearing it, so when the first walker comes at you, growling and snapping it's jaw menacingly, you nail him between the eyes. Ten gets the only other one you can see, and then it's a dive through the empty aisles for some medication.

"This whole place looks empty," you mutter under your breath. Indeed, white metal shelves are bare, save for a few random items here and there. You watch Ten inspect a few and tuck them away, into his bag. 

He picks up a bag of cough drops. "I mean, some of it is useful. Not against a fever, though."

You sigh and make your way towards the back of the store. "Shouldn't there be a place where all the storage is? Like shipment boxes and stuff?"

Ten follows your lead towards the door with an "employees only" sign.

"It's our best shot."

It's the same ritual: Ten covers your back and you cover his. The two of you luckily don't find any walkers, but it's not exactly a room of shipping containments. It's a storage closet, it seems. It's equipped with cleaning supplies, but nothing extraordinary. 

"Wait," you say, reaching for a white tin box that hangs just above the light switch. "It's a first aid kit. Look! Aspirin — that's something, right?"

Ten yanks the entire kit off of the wall and shoves it into his back. "Better than nothing," he grunts.

"Let's take this back. We'll try somewhere else tomorrow."

He swings the storage room door open, only to yelp in surprise at the sight of walkers, all crowding the store. They catch sight of him and turn, all headed for the two of you.

Ten pulls the door closed and locks it just in time to hear the banging and growling of walkers. He curses. "We're trapped. What do we do, we're trapped..."

"Ten," you sputter, fear creeping into your chest. "Ten."

He looks at you, eyes wide, mirroring your own fear. He lunges forward suddenly and wraps his arms around you. "It's okay. It's okay. The longest we'll be trapped is a day, right? Taeyong and Mark will notice. They'll drive out."

"They don't have a car," you cry. Your arms circle his waist and you hide your face in his chest. Your body is shaking from fear, fully aware of how loud it it outside of the door. "Where did they come from? How did they sneak up on us?" Panic sneaks up your throat like pile and you squeeze Ten even tighter. "What if they bust the door down?"

Ten lets out a shaky breath. "They won't. They won't. It'll be okay, we just have to think." He lets go of you and paces around the small space. 

You reach out for him and his eyes focus on your wrist. 

He grabs your wrist. "Your watch. Does it work?"

"It does," you say, hesitantly. "I don't think it matters what time it is, Ten."

"We left the house at nine." He says. "That means it should be noon soon, right?"

"I guess? Ten, what are you saying?"

"The church," he says, "I completely forgot until I saw your watch, but it has a timer that rings out at noon. If we wait, we can make a brake for it."

"How long?" you ask. You whimper  at a particularly scary bang heard outside.

Ten glances at your watch. "Any minute now..."

As if on cue, church bells begin to ring from far away. The growls begin to grow quieter, more distant. "Okay, on my cue we go. Stay close to me, and we'll make a break for the car."

"Got it," you whisper, holding your machete in front of your chest. "On your cue."

"Okay, three, two, one..."

-

The aspirin helps take the fever down, and Scarlett falls asleep in Taeyong's arms that night.

You have a bit more trouble falling asleep. You don't want to feel weak, but it's hard to forget how close you were to death just hours ago. You feel embarrassed at how frightened you got, and wonder if Ten thinks of you as a weak link.

It bothers you so much that you find yourself at the entry to his bedroom. "Hey, Ten?"

He's sitting at the foot of his bed in only pajama bottoms, reading some book he found. But at your voice, he dog-ears the page he's on and sets it aside before looking at you with a gentle smile. "What's up?" 

"What happened earlier... At the pharmacy... You don't— You don't think I'm weak, do you?"

Ten furrows his brows before standing up. He shakes his head in disbelief as he walks over to you. "Y/n, I was terrified. You were terrified. That doesn't make us weak, okay? It makes us human, and since that's the only think separating us from the walkers, I think it's a pretty good trait, alright?" He brushes your hair back from your face in a brief moment of reassurance. 

You lean into his touch. "Yeah. Alright."

-

Mark finds a board game in the attic, and he spends the entire afternoon trying to teach it to the rest of you. Scarlett is invested, ignorant to the present events. Taeyong is playing half-heartedly in an effort to keep Scarlett invested. 

You're too busy staring out of the window to care about the game. "He's not back yet. He said he's be back." You couch into your hand and groan. Your head is pounding and your throat burns with every cough, but you're too worried about Ten to care. "Mark should've gone with him."

"He wanted to go alone," Mark says. 

"He shouldn't get the choice," you snap. You cough into your elbow again and grimace. "We're a team. We can't be separated like this. He has no one to cover him."

Taeyong helps Scarlett move her game piece. While she's distracted, he stands up and makes his way to your perch on the window seat. "You know Ten's fine, right? He worked alone for a long time before we met him."

"I know," you say, "which is why he shouldn't ever have to do it again. Last time we went on a medicine run, we got trapped. It was a stroke of luck that alarm still worked. What if he's trapped now and he needs our help?" 

"He's quick. Smart. He'll make it back. Now please go and rest. Your fever isn't going to reduce if you're on your feet, worrying yourself to death." Taeyong doesn't give you a choice, though, as he wraps his arms around you and helps you towards your bedroom. "You'll want to be awake when Ten comes back, right?" 

"Right..." You climb into your bed and allow Taeyong to tuck you in (not that you would've had the strength to fight him, anyway.)

"I'll keep a look out," Taeyong reassures you. "If he isn't back in two hours, Mark and I will head out."

"Thank you," you mumble sleepily, already falling into a deep slumber.

When you awake, it's nighttime, and Ten is looking over you with an amused grin. "Miss me?"

"Never," you answer with a cough.

Ten hands you your medicine and you take it, watching the way he worries over your figure. "I'm sorry I left alone. I didn't mean to worry you."

You close your eyes when he rest his cool hand against your forehead. "Just don't leave again, M'kay? Not without me."

Ten smiles softly, and when he speaks, it's a gentle and sincere promise. "I won't."

-

Winter comes, and you find yourself wishing you were up north, where the walkers would be slowed down by the snow. In the south, winter is chilly at most, and it's nothing a coat can't fix. Walkers keep their same pace.

You, Ten, and Mark find any blind spots in the fences and patch them up. Luckily, the farmers who owned the house beforehand were prepared for this sort of issue, and stored a lot of supplies in the barn.

The barn is now empty. None of you knew how to prepare a cow for eating, you used it as bait to draw a particularly troublesome herd of walkers away from the farm. That wasn't easy either, but at least it was in your range of skill.

The chickens are still lively, and Scarlett does a good job of collecting eggs every morning for Taeyong to cook up. Ten and Mark secured a coop closer to the house, though. Just in case. 

You and Ten keep up with your frequent runs, especially now for blankets and other supplies to keep warm in a house without heat. The wells are checked every day by Mark, while Taeyong takes care of the animals and Scarlett.

Any shops near the farmhouse have been cleaned out by the two of you well before winter, so you both decided to go a few towns over and check there. It's a small town with barely any stores, but it has a few rich neighborhoods that Ten wants to loot.

He parks on the curb of the cul-de-sac and laughs at your awed expression. "They're nice, right?" 

"Who lived here? Millionaires?"

"Yeah, actually," Ten giggles. "Each of these houses are three stories high. We'll spend the day looting each one, and then we can spend the night in our favorite before heading back."

"Let's hit the one with the in-ground pool first." You push the door open and give Ten an over-the-shoulder smirk. "First one to the door wins."

Ten grabs his knife and bag and follows you across the street, struggling to keep his laughter quiet, lest the two of you draw any walkers in.

When night falls, the trunk of the car is filled with enough supplies to last the farmhouse for a long time. Neither you nor Ten can contain your excitement over the find, so Ten sneaks some wine and glasses into one of the master bedrooms. 

You jump on the unscathed bed while Ten locks the door and pushes an armoire in front of it. "Can you believe we found a handheld console? Do you think Taeyong will let us keep it?"

Ten laughs and grabs your hands, pulling you into a sitting position. "Calm down, dummy. And yeah, I'm sure Taeyong will let us take some batteries. Although he might make us give it to Scarlett."

You pull a face. "Why should she have all the fun?"

"We could hide it," Ten whispers, leaning closer to you with a wicked smile painted on his face. "No one has to know."

Tens face is too close to yours. He does this all the time, mostly when he's excited about something. His natural response is to lean into you while he speaks, but right now it's too much.

You're both high off of adrenaline, his nose is brushing against yours, and if you lean in just an inch or two you could kiss his lips. Just one kiss would hurt, right? At least, that's all that can run through your mind at times like these. Then again, it's sort of the end of the world, and maybe you're just lonely.

Or maybe you like Ten a lot, and this is the time to let him know.

You press your lips against his for a split second and move away, afraid of his rejection. Afraid he'll think you're weird. 

"Y/n," Ten whispers. His lips are close to yours, and his eyelashes are fluttering against his cheekbones as he struggles to keep his eyes open. "Please don't stop."

He holds your chin between his thumb and pointer, and lifts your face. His lips meet yours once again and they're soft, softer than you think they should be. 

You think he shouldn't be this skilled at kissing. Not when the two of you aren't even drunk yet. He nips at your bottom lip; you sigh and grab onto his hair, twirling the ends with your fingers.

Ten gently pushes you until you're on your back, and the plush mattress welcomes your weight. You tug at his hair, eliciting a soft moan from the back of his throat. He grabs at your hips and lifts your shirt, circling the skin with his thumbs.

You sigh against his mouth, and soon he's moving his lips; pressing kisses against your jaw and neck and collarbones. "T-Ten..."

"Yeah?" He whispers, lips still against your neck as he does.

You shiver at the feeling, but try to calm yourself down anyway. "We should... I mean, not that I don't want to, but we should wait."

Ten laughs against your skin and turns his face away, clearing his throat. When he looks at you, there's a smile on his face, now accompanied by a soft blush creeping up his neck. "Want some wine before we tuck in?"

So the moment is forgotten — put on hold — and the two of you let yourselves get drunk off of expensive wine, if just for one night. 

And you fall asleep, side by side, content.

-

You're jerked awake to the sound of someone busting down the front door. You ignore the pounding in your head and sit up, slapping a hand over Ten's mouth. "Ten, someone's in the house."

He sits up; grabs his knife off of the nightstand. "Walkers?"

"Humans," you hiss. You slip out of bed and peak through the blinds of the window. "There's one guy outside — looking through our car, the bastard. I heard at least one in the house."

Ten stands up and winces. He probably has a hangover too, but neither of you can afford the luxury of resting right now. This has to be dealt with. "Do we kill them?"

You look at the man outside. "I don't know. This one seems malnourished. They're probably on their own. No one would come looking for revenge. But also, I don't want to kill a human. Not if I don't have to."

"They make one wrong move," Ten says, gesturing to his weapon, "They're out. No info about where we live or who we're with, either. We tell them that's our car, we take it and leave."

"What if they put up a fight?" 

Ten pulls the armoire away from the door. "We fight back."

-

"We're almost home," you say, trying to hide the shake in your voice. "Stay awake for me, Ten. Please stay awake."

Ten rests his bloodied hand atop yours. There's a stab wound in his side, and you're reaching over to try and apply pressure to the wound as you drive back. 

You have no belt for a tourniquet, no bandages in your car. Of all the things the two of you found, you couldn't find any damn bandages. You squeeze your eyes shut as hot tears trail down your cheeks. You didn't know the stranger had a knife. He pulled it out of nowhere.

"We're almost there, Ten. We're almost there."

He pats your hand and lets out a strangled giggle. "I'm fine, I'm fine, I'm fine..."

You pull into the yard, outside the secure gate and shout for help. Taeyong and Mark run out, and you notice Scarlett peaking through the window. "Please, I don't know what to do!"

Taeyong opens the gate. "Drive up to the porch. Mark, set up the couch and bring me bandages and antiseptic. Bring me a needle and thread, too."

"Stitches?" you whisper, pained.

"Just drive him up!"

As Ten is placed on the couch, he passes out. From shock, Taeyong says, although you really don't care about the reason. You brush Ten's bangs up, away from his eyes as Taeyong applies the medicine and tries to stitch up the wound as best as he can. 

"What if he doesn't make it, Taeyong?" You lean in to press your forehead against Ten's. "What do I do without him?"

Taeyong winces as he pierces through Ten's skin. "He lost a lot of blood, and I don't know how to do a transfusion. Hopefully he didn't lose enough to kill him. But that's all we have right now, okay? Hope."

You grab Ten's hand and press your lips to his palm. "I'm not leaving him."

Taeyong presses his lips together. "I'll get a rope, then."

"What?"

"Y/n... If he... If Ten doesn't make it, and he turns, it'll put us all in danger, okay?"

You can feel the tears again. Just the thought of Ten dying makes you want to burst into tears. Still, you nod. "Okay." You kiss Ten's forehead. "Okay."

-

Ten wakes up feeling like he just bathed in a bucket of sweat. And his side is burning. And his nose itches. 

He reaches down to scratch it, but his hands are tied up behind his head. He grunts and tugs on the restraints. His eyelids are heavy, and he doesn't want to open them for lack of strength, but at the same time he really wishes someone would release him from whatever is holding him. 

"...Ten?"

He hums at the sound of a new voice. It sounds like you, and it makes him want to open his eyes. Makes him want to reach out and touch you, assure you that he's okay, but he just doesn't have the strength. So he hums again.

"Ten... Ten, please tell me you're alive."

Ten groans again. Tugs at his restraints. He yanks hard, and hisses at the pain in his wrists.

"Ten, please..." you begin sobbing. It hurts Ten's chest. It hurts him so badly because all he wants to do is reach out and touch you; hold you, but he can't. He can't reach out with these stupid restraints on.

He tries to call out your name, but it comes out as a strangled moan. He can't manage anything other than meaningless noise, but he's trying. He's trying to tell you that he's alive, he's just struggling to wake up fully. That's all, that's all, that's all.

He yanks on the restraints again. His wrists ache. His side aches. His heart aches as your crying grows louder and he wishes he had more strength than he does.

He hears a gun safety click. Wait... 

No, no, no, he's not dead. He's not dead and he hasn't turned, he's just weak, for goodness sake.

He yanks on his restraints. He tries to open his eyes. He's not dead. He isn't. He isn't. He isn't. 

"Ten, I'm sorry..." you sob. He feels your fingers brush through his hair and then there's a cold barrel placed against his temple. 

He struggles and tries to scream, but it comes out as a frustrated growl which only scares you more. He can't comfort you. He can't even comfort himself because he's comprehending that this is the end. This is the end of his life if he can't wake up, and you're going to be his murderer. You're going to put a bullet through the future you two could have together and there's nothing he can do.

"Ten, I love you," you whisper, hand splayed over his chest. "I love you so much."

He groans again. It's all he can do. He feels weak... so weak and he's starting to think that maybe you're doing him a favor. Maybe he's already dead. Maybe he actually is a walker, and this is just his subconscious, still living on.

Maybe he's just trying to justify his death. 

Your crying gets louder, and Ten can hear other voices around you. They don't matter as much as you, though. He needs you to know that you're the only one he cares about. Before he goes, he needs you to know that.

He wants to say it back. He never said it out loud and now he's gonna die without you having ever heard him. You're never going to know how much he loves you and there's nothing he can do about it.

He thinks of your lips on his, and the way wine tastes on your tongue. He thinks of the warmth of your embrace and the bravery in your actions. He thinks about the softness of your hands and how cute you look with your hair up. He thinks of your heart in his hands and nothing else.

I love — he thinks to you, and then his mind is blank. 

And he is gone.

[keelywolfe]

FIC: Outside Influences ch.7

Note: Last chapter. Anything else feels like a spoiler, I’ll let you read it for yourselves. 

Tags:  Angst, Hurt/Comfort, Off-Screen Sexual Assault, Non-Consensual Drug Use, Aftermath of Violence, Pre-Spicyhoney, Blood and Injury, Injury Recovery, Aftermath of Sexual Assault,

Please read the warnings on this one!!

Chapter One | Chapter Two | Chapter Three | Chapter Four I Chapter Five | Chapter 6

~~*~~

Read Chapter Seven on AO3

or

Read it here!

~~*~~

The cameras gave a more expansive view of the porch, but Edge paused to look through the peephole, anyway. The fisheye view was more immediate, and he could see the way Blue’s shoulders were shaking, his scarf rustling slightly in the wind.

Edge’s hackles rose as another Monster came into view. One of the prolific bun family; they ranged from meek obedience to mean-spirited bullies and everything in between. Their usefulness within Snowdin was usually enough to excuse any belligerence, but even they were usually wise enough to keep away from the Captain’s home. Through the heavy door, Edge couldn’t hear what was said, but he swore he could feel the heat of the magic Blue summoned, a wall of jagged bones suddenly angled at the Bun. The other Monster managed to dredge up his meager common sense and retreated hastily, lumbering along the snowy road towards town.

It made Edge suppress an unwilling smile. Some of his lessons were sticking, it seemed.

The memory of their last meeting dulled his amusement and Edge finally opened the door, saying quietly, “Blue?”

His head jerked up, a tear-stained face turning towards Edge. His usually starry-blue eye lights were dimmed to a miserable gray and his gloves hands were clenched together in his lap. Blue sniffled loudly, hiccoughing, “Edge? How can I face my brother? How can I even…?”

The words dissolved again into sobs and Blue turned away. Edge moved to the stairs, hardly noticing the cold against his bare feet. He sat next to Blue, hands dangling between his updrawn knees. He let Blue weep a moment longer, the soft cries carrying in the cold, clear morning. Then he plucked a worn but clean handkerchief from his inventory, handing it over silently. Only when Blue mopped away the worst of his tears did Edge ask, quietly, “What happened?”

The stained handkerchief twisted in Blue’s hands. “I went to Muffet’s to ask questions. I was so sure everything was a misunderstanding of some sort. I know Papy was…he was hurt,” Blue said, haltingly. He swallowed hard. “But I couldn’t believe…I thought it couldn’t have been deliberate. I asked Muffet who my brother left with that night."

"Was she able to tell you?"

Edge thought he'd said it neutrally enough, but the look Blue gave him was unexpectedly shrewd and Edge sighed inwardly. His brother always said he was a terrible liar.

"Yes. And he and Papy are…were…friends. I was so angry, then. I thought it had to be a misunderstanding. I went home to think, but I was so sure. Then went to talk to him,” Blue let out a low, shuddering breath, curling into himself. “He said terrible things about my brother to me. How could he…? I was so horrified; I didn’t want to believe.” He let out a watery sigh. “I’m sorry, Edge, but I assumed you were basing what you saw on what you knew from Underfell. I suppose I was trying to blame you, in some way, for putting that idea into Papy’s head. I know that terrible things happen here, I couldn’t believe they might happen in Underswap. But I was wrong, I was so wrong,” he said brokenly, “he always seemed so nice before. But he was horrible, horrible!”

The confession stung, but Edge let that pass, “Did he threaten you?” Did he hurt you, too?

That sudden grim smile had no place on Blue’s face. “I threatened him. Tacos aren’t the only thing I’ve been learning. I told him if he ever came near my brother again, I’d make him sorry. He laughed at first, but he wasn’t laughing when I left.”

He’d kept his gaze on that stained handkerchief while he spoke; now Blue looked at Edge, fresh tears limning his sockets. “I believed in him, believed in everyone. Except you. Except my brother when he needed me.” A single tear fell, sparkling in the artificial light. “Papy isn’t always very responsible, but I never should have doubted him. I went to Alphys afterward, told her everything I knew. She was furious, she said she'd handle it."

It wasn't the punishment Edge was hoping for, but it would have to do. Gingerly, Edge settled a hand on Blue’s shoulder, felt him quivering. It should be satisfying to hear him admit he was wrong, was satisfying, but his memory of Blue’s disbelief was going to taint their friendship for some time.

But he didn’t pull away when Blue leaned into his touch.

“How can I possibly apologize to him?” Blue whispered, and the pain in his voice might be deserved, but Edge knew it wouldn’t make Rus happy.

“Start with I’m sorry,” Edge said gruffly, “and you can go from there.”

Blue nodded. He turned to Edge and he grunted as two small, strong arms suddenly circled him, squeezing tight as Blue said fiercely, “Thank you. Thank you for helping him, for being there for him when I wasn’t.”

It would be cruel to point out that he hadn’t done it for Blue. He only nodded, waiting far too long until Blue released him. “Come on.”

He led Blue into the house, ignoring his brother’s watchful gaze as Blue followed him up the stairs, tapping lightly on the door again before he opened it.

Rus’s expression at the sight of his brother was complex, a twisted mingling of dismayed hope, all melting into shock as Blue burst into tears, burbling apologies and he’d crawled on the bed in seconds, embracing his brother.

Silently, Edge closed the door am went downstairs. This was what Rus needed, love and support from the one whom he was closest to, helping him heal and return to normalcy as best he could. Edge had no right to the longing ache in his soul; to claim otherwise would be selfish, a sign that he wanted something for himself, not what was best for Rus.

And Edge did want that, even if it ached.

He sat on the sofa, staring unseeing at the darkened television screen. He accepted the tea his brother silently brought him, not knowing how much Red knew or understood. More than he should, Edge decided sourly. Always more than he should.

That unnatural kindness stung almost as much as Blue’s confession and Edge drank his tea, the too-hot liquid burning as he carefully did not listen to the muffled sounds from upstairs.

The Swap brothers talked for a very long time.

Much later, his door opened again and Blue re-emerged, Rus looking particularly tall and lanky at his heels. He was dressed in his own clothes, the same orange sweatshirt and track pants as always, the untied laces of his shoes trailing. Blue must have had them in his inventory. To see him that way made his memory of Rus in his pajamas blur, that vulnerability lost.

Both of them walked up to the sofa, standing by it. Rus looked down at Edge, tucking his hands into his pockets as he said, “i think i’m ready to go home.” He offered a lopsided smile with none of the softness of that morning. Already there was distance in his eye lights, those barriers returning. Rus even laughed, a little awkwardly, “can’t stay here forever, right?”

You could. It was not a reasonable offer. It didn’t stop Edge from wanting to make it.

Instead, he nodded curtly.

Rus hesitated, though, his feet shuffling, as he said, softer, edged with that fading vulnerability. “thanks. for everything, i mean, i…thanks.”

His sockets widened when Edge stood, Rus freezing as Edge reached out to cup his jaw in both hands. The faint bruise on his cheekbone was gone completely; Blue must have healed it while they were upstairs. Those pale eye lights met his own, wide and diffused, filled with unreadable emotions. But his brow bone drew downward in confusion as Edge only urged him to tip his head down.

As gently as he could, Edge pressed a kiss in the middle of Rus’s forehead, one singular, tender touch.

Then he let Rus go.

“You’re welcome,” Edge said, simply.

Rus blinked, offering a last, faltering smile. “see ya, edgelord.”

Blue’s speculative look lingered longer, but in the end, he stepped back, too. “You told me to start with I’m sorry.” A faint, sad smile, “I’m sorry, Edge.”

For what he'd said and done? For taking Rus away from him? Edge only nodded again, and with a quiet click of the door they were gone.

“that’s it, huh. gonna let him go back there and settle into the status quo?”

Edge turned to look at his brother, taking in his disgruntled expression. But he was tired, far more than could be explained by a mere lack of sleep.

“He needs it.”

“uh huh,” Red didn’t argue, but there was a certain anger in his gaze. “and the fuckers who hurt him?”

“Blue said it’s being handled.”

“handled. hand-dulled.” Red drew out the word, let weight settle into it. “that good enough for you?”

“I promised Rus I wouldn’t take revenge for him, and that will need to be good enough for us both,” Edge said warningly. “I trust you understand the weight of a promise?”

Red held up both hands, but his display of innocence was mocking. “i hear you loud and clear, boss.”

“Of course you do.” Edge stepped abruptly over to the door mat, reaching for his boots. Despite his weariness, he had a sudden longing for the feel of the crisp, cold air outside. “I’m going to check the guard line and the outer traps.”

“sounds good,” Red sucked on his teeth loudly. “want company?”

No. Yes. “If you can keep your mouth shut.”

Red’s grin widened and he made a little ‘x’ over his soul with one finger. “cross my soul and hope to dust.”

Despite his mocking, Red kept his promise and never said a word.

~~*~~

It wasn’t until two weeks later on a movie night that Edge saw Rus again. In between, Edge resisted the urge to go to Underswap, to stand guard, watching over their tidy little house where the door was rarely locked. He settled for the occasional text, getting a curt reply of ‘fine’ to any inquiry as to how Rus was feeling.

Eventually, Edge stopped asking and Rus never texted him first.

That was all right. It was. The point was always to allow Rus to make his own choices.

He ignored the faint ache in his soul that demanded more.

But to have his first sight of Underswap after stepping out of the basement door to be of Rus leaning lazily against the back of the house, exhaling a cloud of smoke, sent the fading ache in Edge’s soul to low, dull throb.

“Must you do that where others walk?” Edge snapped. It slipped out without thought, far too easy to fall back into old habits. Trying too hard to ignore that Rus looked good, the flush of magic was back in his bones, the pale vulnerability when Edge saw him last was gone, swallowed up in a familiar smirk.

Except Rus’s grin was more rueful than anything and shook his head, “sorry, edgelord. it’s good to see you, too.”

The quiet sincerity to those teasing words left Edge bewildered, fading to shock when Rus put the cigarette out only half-smoked, dropping the butt into a nearby can.

“c’mon inside, blue’s been cooking all damn day.” His grin took on an exasperated fondness. Rus learned in too close and Edge lurched unsteadily as he was jostled with teasing elbow jab. “think it’s your turn to pick a flick, what travesty are you going to inflict on us this time?”

He’d planned on Casablanca. He couldn’t fathom why he blurted out, “Ghostbusters.”

“really?” Rus paused, ankle deep in the snow as he blinked at Edge in confused pleasure. ”didn’t think you liked that one.”

“I don’t.”

“but…oh.” That smile widened, flirting with genuine softness. “thanks.”

Edge didn’t reply, made no indication that he’d chosen it with Rus in mind. They stood unspeaking in the cold snow for a long moment, that smile playing on Rus’s mouth. Then Rus’s eyes flicked to Red, and color touched his cheekbones as he turned towards the house.

The rising glee on Red’s face was ignored as Edge followed Rus into the house and he forcibly did not think about the last time he was here, when he discovered the spatters of marrow on the ground.

Instead, he greeted Blue with guarded warmth, accepted a plate of food that tasted better than it looked. He listened as the others joked and chatted. But his gaze strayed often, to Rus whenever he laughed or teased, and when their eye lights met, Edge didn’t look away.

When they all went to the living room to watch the movie, there was an empty space on the sofa next to Rus and when no one else took it, Edge did.

The movie was as ridiculous as Edge remembered. It didn’t matter; his attention was on Rus sitting next to him. Close enough to touch, brushing lightly at the hips and femurs, elbows occasionally jostling as one of them reached for popcorn.

Someone on the screen was rambling about twinkies when Rus’s hand settled gingerly over his, cool bones greasy with butter tentatively twining with his own scarred fingers, and Edge inhaled shakily, let it out. No one else seemed to notice them holding hands. Nothing more than that, only that single light touch, but Edge was prepared for a glacially slow courtship if that was what it took.

They needed to talk, perhaps tonight. Perhaps they would go to Rus’s room after the movie, and words would spill out between them, emotions bubbled out as they said things that needed said and more. There were many things Edge suspected he could whisper to Rus in the early morning hours. The lingering ache of Edge’s soul shifted, fluttering with warmth. He rubbed his thumb across Rus's knuckles and his fingers twitched in response, then tightened, holding on.

It was a start.

~~*~~

You can stop here, dear readers. If you’ve made peace with what happened, like Rus. Or if you’ve made a promise, like Edge, to not seek revenge. If you’re content with the beginnings of love.

Or you can read on and see a different end. The choice, dear readers, is yours.

~~*~~

Epilogue

The bruises still ached as he shambled through his front door, kicking aside the trash that was piled around. The heat made those bruises throb, but there was no escaping it in fucking Hotland, was there. The little blue shit had left his mark, shrieking about his cunt brother, as if that slut were worth it.

Sans’d left him on the ground, bleeding from half a dozen cuts and scrapes. Nothing unbearable and if he’d left it at that, he would have accepted it as the price of business. Yeah, that was it, Sans needed payback for damage to his property, that was all. Only he’d dragged Alphys into it, and now he was starting to think he might have to take a little vacation, get out of Hotland for a while.

He didn’t notice anything strange in the house; his thoughts were tangled up around a stupid cunt who’d spent years teasing, flirting just out of reach and then when the chance finally came, refusing to put out. On the stuttering bitch that was on his ass, demanding answers that she didn’t need. On how much he needed to pack and where he should go from here.

His poisoned soul knew, whispered that maybe he should pay the cunt a visit. Tempted by the memory of his fear, of his pleas, the spatter of crimson on his clothes. Yeah, maybe a visit would be nice, might be his only chance before the bitch captain went to someone more royal for a ruling and if he was going down, that cunt was going with him—

The whispers of his soul went silent at the sudden heavy pressure surrounding it, yanking him to his knees. He cried out in pain, landing with jarring force, unable to move away from that sharp, blue force.

A scuffing sound made his head jerk up, squinting into the darkness. His own fear tasted sour, thick in his throat at what he saw. Two crimson lights like tiny lanterns, a shade darker than blood, gleaming out at him.

What is that, what, what, what is here, what is that.

There was a low, harsh laugh, a voice choked in gravel that spoke from the darkness, “wellie, well, well. i heard you like to play games. how’s about you play a little game with me.”

“Who are you?” he asked, shrilly. The voice in his head was that of his own father, cruel bastard that he was, screaming at him to get out, to get away, but he couldn’t. That blue hold was inescapable, and he felt the first insectoid tickle on his spine, of his sins crawling up his back. This couldn’t be Alphys’s doing, it couldn’t, so who—

“oh, i got lotsa names. only one that a fella like you needs to know,” A soft footstep, another, and beneath those twin glowing crimson eyes came into focus the outline of jagged teeth, curved into a vicious smile. That voice deepened, heavy with the weight of dark mysteries as it whispered to him, “I am Judgement.”

That subvocal growl sent a tremor through his very soul; this was no Monster, this was a demon glaring out at him from the void. Dimly, he felt his bladder let go, the sharp scent of urine filling the air.

“speakin’ about names, i need a coupla ones from you.” That terrible grin widened, those eyes, ah, those eyes, yawning pits of hellfire, danced with glee. “but first, let’s play a game, yeah?”

That demon crouched in front of him, petting his head playfully with sharp fingertips that left bleeding scratches behind them. He leaned in close and whispered, like a secret. “let’s see how many times i can get you to say stop.”

-finis-

[osmw1]

Dimension Wave  Chapter 15 — Somewhere Efficient, Profitable, and without Anyone in Sight

The next day. Last night, to celebrate the three of us getting together, I treated them the best herring I had. Our party got real lit and we crashed hard at the end of the night, even though it’s not like we got drunk or anything.

“So, what’s this about?”

I try to remember what happened yesterday. After getting a passerby to cook our top-quality herring, the three of us hung out by the riverbed—lantern in one hand, dinner in the other. We chatted about how we’re all Spirits, Yammy’s communication disorder, how she was anxious about being a bother to others, and even how my sisters forced me to play as a girl. I feel like we got a lot closer. That was fine. I can still remember up to that. But what’s this about?

“… zzz…” “… ‘tis how… I speak…”

Lying before me are Shouko in her yukata and Yamikage in her underwear. And yeah, I’ve nothing by my underwear on too.

“Wha…? What did we do last night?”

This game is rated PG; booze is restricted for minors, so I can’t even blame myself for being under the influence for any mistakes I may have made. And of course, nothing lewd can be depicted in game either. I’ve heard rumors that there are new VR games for adults only, but I really don’t think this is one of them.

“Ugh, what time is it?”

The sun shines through the windows. At the very least, I can tell it’s not morning anymore. I open up my menu and check the clock. It reads 1:24 PM. Jeez, it’s midday already. We’re absolute degenerates to be sleeping in on our first day as a party.

“Shouko! Yamikage! Get up!”

As soon as I shout at them, Shouko sits up with her eyes half-open. Judging by how she’s the only one in her PJs, I’d assume she dragged us all the way here.

“G’mornin’, Kizhna…” “Oh, wake up already…”

Beds really are too OP in this game. I think we got at least four, five hours of sleep. It’s probably a safety measure for dealing with people who stay up and play too much. Anyway, now’s not the time to get sidetracked.

“Shouko, what happened last night?” “Ev’body looked sho shleepy, sho we headed back to the inn.” “Mm-hmm.”

She’s not conscious enough to speak properly, but I still understood her. It seems like the three of us somehow managed to stagger back here.

“It woulda been dangeroush to shtay out there, so I got a big room for ush.”

I think I got the gist of the situation. But… but…

“But why are the two of us naked?!” “… ahh!”

Ah, she’s fully awake now. Shouko looks around at her surroundings before speaking again.

“Good morning, Kizuna. Quite the fine morning, isn’t it?”

What a refreshing smile.

“It’s past noon already!”

  The truth was actually awfully simple. Because clothes will wrinkle in this game, Shouko was being considerate and stripped us down. I guess wrinkles are a pretty big deal. But it’s not like there aren’t dry cleaners in town. As long as you have enough money, they can clean anything. And because they’re not expensive either, female players tend to often use them, apparently.

“I am truly sorry, Kizuna, Yamikage.” “No, don’t be. I should be thanking you instead.” “Aye. Had you not taken us safely to shelter, it may have landed us in an unthinkable predicament. We ought to be grateful to you.”

Yamikage was quite dazed after waking up. She was super embarrassed about other people seeing her nearly naked. She even blurted out ‘D-Don’t stare…’ as if it weren’t embarrassing for us too. Plus, she let her old-timey speak slip. It’s probably a part of her roleplaying. I mean, who actually speaks like that in real life?

“But, y’know, I’m a dude, right? You gotta be more careful. I mean, yeah, we can’t do anything in this world, but still… it wouldn’t be right.” “That’s true. Since Kizuna looks exactly like a girl, the truth had slipped my mind.”

Yeah, I know, I’m currently a girl, but… I guess I do look obviously feminine and same goes for Yamikage. She didn’t really seem to worry about seeing me naked though. If Dimension Wave weren’t so detailed, everybody looks pretty much the same. Of course, everyone looks good—unlike real life—but everyone is humanoid in nature. It is what it is. Those two know only know me through the body and voice of Kizuna†Exceed. They should be careful around a guy like me… but it’ll probably be fine if I’m more careful too.

“Well then, let’s make up for lost time. Where’re we headed to today?” “About that…”

Shouko makes an uneasy face.

“As fitting as the Forest of Eternal Darkness was for us, every other place I’m familiar wouldn’t be good for Kizuna. I mean, there would be plenty of people who would see us.”

She does have a point about her concern. If I were to be honest, it’s not like an absolute must that we keep it a secret. We’d have our priorities backwards if we let something like that stop us from hunting together as a party. We thought about simply waiting until nightfall to head back to the forest, but it’d be kinda a waste. It’s not really Energy-efficient for three people, Shouko said.

“In that case, maybe it’s not worth hiding anymore. It’d be impossible to keep it a secret forever anyway.” “I understand, Kizuna, but would it not be a shame if we so easily reveal your secret?” “Forsooth.”

Well, I guess so. If this were any other MMORPG, people could just go online and find out how the game works. But in Dimension Wave, most people don’t know even know what goes into forging a weapon. Gutting-type weapons are the weakest, so it doesn’t see a lot of use. But that’s because people don’t know that there’s more than just attacking with gutting weapons, hence why Shouko and Yamikage don’t want to give away this cash cow.

“So, what we want is somewhere that’s worthwhile for Energy, money, but also with no one around…” “‘Tis quite the list of requirements!” “I’m afraid we may be a little too greedy.”

We’re all in agreement about that. It’s almost as greedy as having a six-figure income requirement to even consider marrying someone. It would be weird if such a place existed with nobody there. Not to mention, the chances of being seen by anyone is definitely greater than zero. Hell, we might just be asking for the impossible. In an MMORPG, there are always locations that are popular and locations which are deserted. But if it’s a place where no one goes, it usually means it’s not efficient to grind there.

“And somewhere empty too…?”

I’ll admit to being unreasonable. There’s no way somewhere like that… wait a minute. There is a place like that. I didn’t get a good grasp of whether it was Energy-efficient or not, but at least I know the monsters are stronger there than the Forest of Eternal Darkness. But, it’s a little—

“Miss Kizuna? Is something the matter?” “Did you come up with a good idea?”

Both of them look at me with anticipation. Their expectations of me might be a little too high after the whole Lizardman Dark Knight battle yesterday.

“I can think of a place where there’s no one around but with monsters stronger than the ones in the Forest. Though, I really can’t say so for sure.” “What sort of place is that? ‘Tis an easy decision should we head there directly, no?”

… it’s not like I think it’s somewhere we should go, but it seems like Shouko and Yamikage are interested. No, we should decide as a group. I just threw out a suggestion.

“The ocean.” “The… ocean?” “Yeah. I paddled out to the open sea on a wooden boat before we met, right off the coast of the first city. I didn’t have much Energy then, so the monsters were pretty damn strong. I had to retreat, but I’m thinking that there’s three of us now…” “I can see why you’re unsure.”

How many monsters are there? Are we strong enough? Will we be safe? There are just too many unknown variables. It doesn’t seem like any of us would be good fighting on water. The monsters are strong too. But because almost nobody has fought them before, their mats are rare to say the least. And assuming that their mats sell, we would do well to go grind there.

“There’s another issue.” “Pray tell, Miss Kizuna.” “My boat’s too small.”

It would be pushing it trying to fit three people on my Wooden Boat +3 and that’s just for seating capacity. If a monster were to come at us, we would be dead in the water.

“Where did you get the boat?” “Ah, I found it in a market stall at the first city for 40,000.” “Perhaps we could directly contact the seller?” “Yeah, if only I knew their name. It was just some random market stall after all…” “‘Tis a handcrafted piece, no? The name of the craftsman should be inscribed somewhere.” “Wait, really?”

It’s obvious for MMOs to have the crafter’s name written somewhere. I check out my Wooden Boat +3 in my inventory. There it is. There’s a “Crafted by” line in the description. “Sheryl”. Surely, there’s gotta be more than one Sheryl. It’s so normal, yet so odd.

“I’ll try calling her.”

I let the others know before selecting “Chat” in the menu. Then I punch in S-H-E-R-Y-L. It’d be nice if everything works out well. I bought the boat about a week ago around noon as well. I don’t think she’d suddenly become nocturnal, right? Well, even if my call doesn’t go through, I can try again later at night. Of course, if I were to call her three times and I still can’t reach her, I’ll take the hint that she’s not interested. I could always go see her in person as well. Maybe I should ask her if she knows Alto, seeing how he’s got all sorts of connec—

—Sheryl has joined the chat.

“Hi, sorry for the sudden call. My name is Kizuna†Exceed. I bought a boat from your store about a week ago.” “…”

Huh? No response. Did she pick up? No, wait, this isn’t a phone call. It’s not like I could’ve called the wrong person. Plus, her name was easy to spell, so I’m sure it’s right.

“Do you hear me okay?” “… yep.” “Oh, good. So, I have a question for you. Since the boat I bought the other day fits only two people, I’m wondering if you have anything a little bigger.” “… nope.” “I-I see…”

I got my hopes up a little, but I guess nothing’s that easy. Back to square one, I suppose.

“Alright then, thank you for your ti—” “But, if you’ve got the mats, I could make you one.” “Mats, huh?” “There’s only a single person I can think of that’s bought a boat from me… I think I remember you. Seeing how easily you can drop 40,000, I’m sure you’re able to assemble materials too.”

Oh, right. If I recall correct, the 40,000 serin covered the costs of the raw materials. I don’t really know what her goals are, but I think I can get her to make me a boat as long as I front the costs.

“… it all depends on the size of the boat, too. How big are you thinking?” “I’m wondering if you can make me something big enough to seat three people and have enough room to fight on as well.” “…” “Umm…” “… hold on. Lemme crunch the numbers.”

I know I’m asking for a lot. And materials for a boat, eh? Seeing how the boat I have now costed me 35,000 serin, something three times… hell, even four, five times as big would run me about 170,000. Honestly, in that case, it’d be over my budget. I don’t even have that much money.

“… can you c’mere?” “Sorry?” “Can you come here?” “‘Here’ as in the first town?” “Right.” “I could make the trip, but it’ll take a while since I’m in Second right now.” “Right.” “You want to meet up, right? “… right. And if possible, bring the other two along too.”

I glance over at Shouko and Yamikage and pause to think.

“Can I run the idea through my friends first?” “Sure.” “And in that case, when would be good for you?” “Anytime is good. I’ll open my stall at the same place when you get here.”

—Sheryl has left the chat.

I’m still a little fuzzy, but at least we’re a step in the right direction. … it’s tough speaking with someone who’s so quiet.

“How did it go?”

The two of them ask me. Gotta explain it to them that our plans have changed.

“I got ahold of her, but it seems like we gotta help out in crafting.” “Whatever do ye mean?” “Well, I’ll cover the funds, so don’t worry about that. That’s not the important part.” “Then?” “We gotta meet the woodworker in person. She says she wants to meet both of you too. I said I’ll leave that choice up to you guys.”

She said, “if possible,” so we’ll see what we can do. I don’t think she’ll force us all to meet her. Well, if you asked me though, I’d like for us to go together.

“Then let us go together.” “Aye, aye.” “Y’all sure? I kinda feel like I volunteered you guys to go already.” “I’m sure. I don’t so much feel forced by you, Kizuna, but I also have no other plans.” “For I am your shadow, Misses Kizuna and Hakoniwa, I will always be behind you two.”

I guess I should be happy? But at the same time, you kinda sound like a stalker. In any case, our plan now is to head to Lurolona. Even though we said it’d be inefficient, we still went to the Forest of Eternal Darkness that night. We’re just playing it by ear.

contents: /prologue/ /ch001/ /ch002/ /ch003/ /ch004/ /ch005/ /ch006/ /ch007/ /ch008/ /ch009/ /ch010/ /ch011/ /ch012/ /ch013/ /ch014/ /ch015/ /next/

(please support me on Patreon or Paypal)

[entropy-game-dev]

Choosing the right data structure

Today I wanted to talk a little about how exactly my dungeons are stored behind the scenes, and why I decided to use the method that I did. But first, a little context which heavily informs my thinking.

My first “real” programming language was Matlab at University. For those of you unfamiliar with it, the MAT part of MATlab stands for matrix, and matrices are at the heart of everything that Matlab does. A matrix is, essentially, many variables that is (hopefully) structured in such a way that moving along any dimension of that matrix (rows, columns, third dimension and so on) has values that are all related to each other. For example, perhaps your rows represent different characters, and the columns represent their inventory slots.

Anyway, Matlab’s matricies let you have as many dimensions as you want, and I’ve become extremely spoiled by that fact, which means that two dimensional arrays/matrices in other languages feel somewhat... lacking.

This brings me to Gamemaker Studio (GMS 1, that is, I think GMS2 might have support for 3d arrays natively). Now, arrays are unquestionably perfect for storing tile data of a dungeon, as these are naturally arranged in a grid. So, your rows and columns are the x and y coordinates of the dungeon tile, and the value is going to give you some information about that tile. Great!

Except, hang on, you can only store one number. This becomes a problem when working and checking tile values. I already knew I’d need several attributes of a tile ready for use, not limited to:

Can it be walked on? 

Have I explored this tile? 

Is it a floor or a wall? 

Is there a feature on it (trap, resource, etc.)? 

What SORT of feature is it?

What level is that feature?

So already, there are 6 different attributes I need to think about. Now, this would be the perfect job for a 3D array, but like I said, these don’t exist natively in GMS1! So, like all programming languages, when you can’t do something directly, you have to find workarounds, and by golly there are as many workarounds as there are ways to write code. Here are just a few I considered and in brackets, why I didn’t go with them:

One array for each feature (incredibly hard to manage without custom functions, huge overhead, lots of potential for errors, makes error checking extremely painful)

A single array, with each x,y position pointing to a list, which contains the related tile’s attributes (a literal ton of data structures to manage, may lead to memory leaks if not careful, moderate overhead accessing one structure only to access another one)

Write/use custom functions that simulate a 3d array using a bunch of 2d arrays (quite inflexible, as I needed to make use of the built in array functions of GMS)

So what did I end up going with? Well, I store tile data in a string of numbers at each x-y position. The number is something like ABCDEFGH, with A being a 0 or 1 if it’s a floor or wall, B being a 0, 1, 2, 3 for room floors, corridor floors, dungeon walls, dungeon boundaries, and so on and so forth. Now, because this is a string, I have to specify which position to grab when I’m looking at a certain tile characteristic. This also means I am limited to number 0 through 9, as anything greater (or negative numbers) would take up TWO spaces in the string, shifting everything over and just generally causing chaos.

Only having 10 possible values for each position is fine with me, for several reasons. One is that I can keep adding numbers to the end of the string if I think of new tile attributes. The other is that, for example, dungeon features, will have a main type (trap), a sub-type(good,bad,neutral,inert), and a sub-sub-type (health restore, energy restore, oxygen restore). That means I could (potentially) have 1000 unique dungeon features which is more than enough I’m sure we’ll all agree.

So what’s the take-home message for you guys? If you’re designing a game, one of the most important things is how you’re going to store and manipulate your game data. Use whatever will trouble you the least, and the way to make a proper comparison is to do your research, find out about the data structures in your language, and prototype on a small scale before going big (to catch any potential problems).

[shielddrake]

Rebel of Sky City Ch. 17

Sorry for the long wait.  This chapter bugs me.  Still not completely happy with it, but moving on.

 Chapter Seventeen

“Will you take me as I am?”

 “Hey, Lukas?”

 “Mercy, mercy, why didn’t we hear it?”

“Yeah, Petra?”

 “Let your soul gravitate to the love y’all.”

 “Will you whack your dad for me?”

“And the bloody changes…”

 “He’s on the other side of his cell. I can’t reach.”

 “And the streets are full of strangers.”

 “Does he have to keep singing?”

 “Let your soul gravitate to the love y’all.”

“I couldn’t tell you.”

“And the bloody changes…”

 Petra jumped up from her mat in the corner. “Stop it! Stop it! I can’t take it anymore!”

 “Whoa!” Lukas stood as well and held onto the bars to look towards her cell. “Petra, calm down!”

“Milo, I swear if you don’t stop, I’m going to break through these blocks and punch you out!” Petra hollered.

“Sorry, Petra,” Milo said, stopping his chants. “There’s only so much one can do when in prison.”

“There’s only so much one can take of your singing,” she shouted. “No offense, but you’re not the best singer around.”

 Lukas couldn’t help but smile. “She’s right, you know, Dad.”

Milo huffed as the entrance to the dungeon opened and Gill stepped through. He glanced at the prisoners and pulled out his sword.

“What’s all the racket about?” He ran his sword across the bars of the cells, the metal clangs echoing through the room. The jailbirds held their ears at the sound. “No talking. Prisoners aren’t supposed to talk.”

“That’s probably the longest single sentence I’ve ever heard you say,” Petra taunted. “Has The Founder given you crafting materials for brains?”

“Shut up, Petra,” Gill ordered, though the redhead didn’t seem inclined to obey. “You don’t scare me. Now the tables have turned, and you got to do what I say.”

 “Yeah right.” Petra crossed her arms and allowed a smirk to grace her lips. “As if you have any authority around here.”

 “When Aiden takes over, I’m going to have plenty of authority,” Gill announced. He put his sword away and crossed his arms.

“When Aiden takes over?” Lukas put his hands around the bars and stared at the guard. “What are you talking about?”

“Mum’s the word for now.” Gill chuckled. “You’ll see soon enough.”

“Gill!” Everyone’s attention turned to the doorway again, where Axel was just entering the dungeons. “Gabriel wants to see you. Says it’s your turn for your interview.”

 Gill rolled his eyes and sighed. “Right. Whatever. See you losers later.”

 He made his way out of the dungeons, knocking Axel in the shoulder as his left. Axel rubbed his arm where Gill had made contact, but otherwise ignored him. He shook his head once the door was close and then looked at Petra.

“How are you holding up?” he asked her, his voice rather quiet for him.

“Fine, I guess,” she replied with a shrug. Petra glanced away for a split second. “What’s going on out there?”

“You’ve kind of put everyone on edge about who can be trusted in the Guard. Captain Reginald suspects a coup.” Axel put his hands on his hips and looked down at her. “Petra, tell it to me straight. Did you join the Guard to try to get to the Eversource?”

 Petra glanced over at Lukas, who just nodded his head. Everything was out in the open now. Might as well be truthful.

 “I wasn’t trying to get the Eversource. I wanted to see if I could get my hands on some more materials for our club. Build Club. Sure you’ve heard about it by now.” At Axel’s nod, she continued. “Why? Where’d you hear I was after the Eversource?”

 “That’s what Aiden’s saying,” Axel said. “But he’s a jerk, so I couldn’t be sure.”

“Sounds like Aiden,” Lukas added with a roll of his eyes.

 “Yeah, trying to foist the blame on us.” Petra felt like punching the bars, and she might have if Axel hasn’t been in front of her. “The Founder actually is listening to him?”

“Yeah. Seems he and The Founder have become all buddy-buddy,” he described. Axel scuffled his foot. “Makes him think he can order all of us around. Spouting commands left and right.”

 “And The Founder’s not doing anything about it? That’s just great.” Lukas groaned. “What about Jesse? How’s she doing?”

 Axel shook his head. “Don’t know. Haven’t seen her since you guys were brought in.”

 “Hope she’s okay,” Lukas whispered.

 “No kidding,” Petra agreed.

 “What’s this about a coup?” Milo asked, speaking up for the first time in a while.

 “The Founder’s all worried that others in the Guard are trying to overthrow her, and you're involved in it somehow,” he explained. “The captain’s questioning everyone about it.”

 “That’s news to me,” Petra stated. “I never heard of another guard who wants to overthrow The Founder.”

 “Is that what The Founder thinks Build Club was doing?” Milo inquired. “That we were sending people into the Guard to get the Eversource?”

“That’s the theory anyway,” Axel answered him, giving the older man a small smile. “You’re not, right?”

“It’s not a bad idea,” Milo conceded.

 Lukas banged his head against the bars. “Not now, Dad.”

“Other than me, no one in Build Club is also in the Guard,” Petra replied honestly, looking Axel in the eye.

He seemed to contemplate this for a moment before speaking again. “So, getting into the Guard and all that, it was all a lie?”

The redhead sighed, looking down at his feet. “Yeah. I wasn’t in the Guard to protect Sky City. I wanted to get resources. That’s all.”

“It was a lie,” Axel summarized succinctly. He shifted from one foot to the other. “What about me? Was our friendship a lie too?”

 “No way.” Petra’s gaze snapped up to his. “You’d actually think that?”

 “Petra, you’re the first person who didn’t treat me like I was just some, well, loser. That I wasn’t some coward who was just around to be the butt of a joke.” Axel let out a long breath. “Why would you act like a friend to someone like me, if it wasn’t as a way to get something?”

 Petra rested her forearms against the bars, leaning forward to look him straight in the eye.

 “If you believe I ever thought that, Axel, then you really are a dummy.” She shrugged like it was no big deal. “Yeah, you screw things up sometimes, but we all do. You’re a funny guy. You’ve made Jesse and me laugh tons of times, and we were laughing with you, not at you.”

 “And who’s calling you a coward?” Lukas chimed in. “I remember when we first met. I went to talk to Aiden, and the moment you thought something was going to happen, you jumped in and told him to back off. Doesn’t sound like a coward to me.”

Axel smiled a bit sheepishly. He glanced at the dungeon door. “I swear I didn’t come down here to fish for compliments.”

“What do you mean?” Petra asked. She watched as he walked over to the switch controlling the doors. “Axel, what are you doing?”

He stood in front of the switch. He looked over his shoulder at her with the most serious expression Petra had ever seen on Axel’s face.

 “Look, I might be in the Guard, but we’re friends,” he said. “And I don’t want to see you get hurt.”

“Axel, are you…”

 Now the large man smirked. “You know me, Petra. There’s supposed to be a guard in here at all times, but I’m a big, fat idiot who can’t go a moment without eating.”

 “And now he’s insulting himself again,” Lukas muttered. “Why did we try to cheer him up?”

 Petra shushed him.

“I was thinking I’d go down to the pantry to get some bread,” he described. “To satisfy my endless hunger, you know?”

 Petra immediately caught on. “And how long would you say something like that would take you?”

“Probably about as long as it would take someone to get from here to the front gate.” Axel flipped the switch, opening the doors to the cells. “I can’t say you won’t run into anyone on the way, but this is the best I can do.”

“No, Axel. This is great!” Petra ran up to him and gave him one of her rare hugs. “Thank you!”

 Axel’s face was a little red when she pulled away, and he cleared his throat.

 “Young man, we owe you a debt of gratitude,” Milo said.

 “Definitely.” Lukas stepped forward to shake his hand in thanks.

 Axel headed for the doorway. “You guys better be gone before I get back. I don’t want to have to throw you back in the cells.”

“We will be,” Petra promised. “Thanks again.”

 Axel headed out of the dungeons, not looking back. Milo rushed to a chest on the other side of the room where their belongings had been stored. He pulled out his things before throwing Lukas and Petra’s respective inventories. For some reason, this included Petra’s sword from the Guard.

 “Guess it's considered mine?” she figured as she swung it a few times. “Not going to complain though.”

“Come on,” Lukas said. “Axel’s right. We got to get out of here while we have the chance.”

The trio didn’t have much of an opportunity to see the inside of the palace during the daytime. Thus, being in it during nighttime was a disorienting experience to say the least. Most of the halls were dark, no torches to light the way. And without windows to provide limited starlight there wasn’t much to allow them to see. Lukas could only hope that Petra had the muscle memory to lead them to an unguarded exit.

 If there was an unguarded exit.

 It wasn’t long before Petra held up a hand, halting them in their tracks at a corner with a torch. Since she was the only one armed out of the three, she would be the one doing any battling. Any guards they would run into would have swords. If either Lukas or Milo tried to fight, it would not end well.

 Petra stayed at the corner of the intersection, keeping to the shadows well enough to not be seen. Lukas and Milo watched as she jumped out and stuck her sword forward. There was a gasp, and Lukas swore he could’ve heard the sound of a bowstring being pulled.

However, rather than starting a fight, Petra cried out. “Jesse?!”

Milo and Lukas glanced at each other and then ran into the open. Sure enough, there was Jesse, standing rigidly straight as the tip of Petra’s sword barely nicked her throat. Olivia stood to the side, her bow ready with an arrow, but she immediately lowered it when she her eyes fell on them.

“Oh, thank goodness,” she sighed. “I really didn’t want to fight.”

“Sorry.” Petra lowered her sword. “Thought you were a guard.”

Jesse swallowed and smiled at her, the relief evident in her shining eyes. Petra chuckled and put her sword away before reaching to give Jesse a tight hug. Jesse froze for a moment but soon returned it.

“You must be happy to see me,” she murmured into her friend’s shoulder. “Or you wouldn’t be hugging me so tight.”

 “I’ll just deny it later,” The redhead stated.

 “What am I?” Olivia sighed.  “Moldy bread?”

 “It’s good to see you too, Olivia,” Petra added, giving her a hug of her own.  “What are you doing here?”

 “The idea was to bust you guys out of jail, but…” Olivia explained.

 “Well, we’ve got that part covered,” Petra said as she released her.

 Reuben skipped forward for some attention from Petra as well. She grinned and gave the little pig a few pats on his head.

“Not that we don’t appreciate the attempt,” Milo added. He stepped forward to give Jesse his own hug. “Good to see you, Jesse. I’m glad you’re okay.”

“I should be telling you that.” After they finished their hug, Jesse turned to the younger blond and stiffened. She looked at him for only a split second before averting her gaze to the floor. “Um…hi, Lukas.”

“Hi Jesse.” His voice was quiet and low.

 She rubbed the back of her neck, refusing to meet his eyes. Lukas stared at her with a blank expression, waiting for her to take the first step.

 Milo watched, ready to intervene if he needed to. He didn’t think that would be necessary, but he was ready just in case. Olivia wrung her hands nervously, while Petra was still on the lookout for any guards.

 Jesse took a deep breath. “Lukas, I’m sorry. I was going to tell you everything, but I just didn’t—”

 Her words froze in her mouth as Lukas stepped forward and took her face in his hands. Jesse glanced up in time to watch as he pressed his lips against hers. She startled but returned the kiss, closing her eyes.

 “Oh, for crying out loud,” Olivia said, rolling her eyes and smirking.

 Petra groaned. “Is this really the time for that?”

“Come on, you two,” Milo declared with a grin. “It’s a reunion of lovers. This is something to be celebrated.”

 Reuben snorted. No one was sure if it was from amusement at the kissing pair, agreement with Milo’s gushing, or joining in with the girls’ annoyance.

 “That was more than I needed to think about.” Olivia muttered as the couple continued to kiss.

 Petra shook her head. “Um, guys? You know we are still in a palace fill with guards that want to recapture us, right?”

This flat statement brought the two out of their own little world, but they didn’t take their eyes off each other.

“I thought you’d be angry,” Jesse whispered.

“Oh, I was angry all right,” Lukas confessed. “But Dad was right about prison giving you lots of time to think.”

 Jesse pulled him closer into a hug, burying her face into his shoulder. “I’m still sorry.”

 “I’m sorry too. I didn’t mean to make you worry so much.” He separated himself from her, finally smiling. He tilted her chin up so she would look at him again. “No more secrets, okay?”

 Jesse nodded. “No more secrets.”

 “Can we get on with it now?” Petra asked, holding her sword up, ready for anything.

Milo clicked his tongue. “Kids these days have no romantic notions.”

 “They’re right though. We need to get out of here.” Lukas grabbed Jesse’s hand and started to pull her down the hall. “Come on.”

Jesse probably would have let him pull her along if she hadn’t heard Reuben’s telltale squealing. She looked over her shoulder at him. The pig gave her a raised eyebrow and jerked his head in the direction that would lead to the throne room. Jesse dug in her heels, causing everyone to stop in their tracks and look at her.

Lukas glanced at Reuben with a raised eyebrow, finally noticing him for the first time. “Wait, you know a pig?”

She ignored him, knowing exactly what Reuben was telling her. “Petra, you know the way out?”

“I think so.”

“Then you lead everyone else out of here,” she instructed. “I have to get to the throne room.”

“Why? What is it?” Milo asked. His brows furrowed with worry.

 “It’s something I have to take care of.”

 “Jesse, we just agreed on no more secrets,” Lukas reminded her as he put a hand on her shoulder. “What is it?”

“…Aiden’s after the Eversource,” she breathed. “He’s planning to use it to overthrow The Founder…my mother. I can’t let him have it.”

“If Aiden has the only way to get resources in Sky City,” Milo said with a slight stuttter. “He could do whatever he wants to the rest of us.”

“And that’s not a good thing.” Lukas shook his head. “I don’t want to even think about what he could be planning with it.”

 “He actually thinks that’ll work?” Olivia wondered aloud. “Taking over Sky City, I mean? What makes him think the Guard will stand around and let him overthrow The Founder?”

“Remember how Axel mentioned some kind of coup?” Petra recalled. “I bet Aiden’s the one actually doing it. He probably has on the inside no one knows about.”

“It would take a long time for someone to infiltrate the Guard enough to stage a coup,” Jesse concluded. “He might’ve been planning this for a while.”

 “Even if that was true, and let’s assume it is,” Lukas stated. “How would Aiden even get his hands on the Eversource? No one knows where in the palace The Founder keeps it.”

“Jesse does,” Milo realized, his voice becoming wispy. He took his son’s place in front of her. “You must know exactly where it is!”

“I do, and Aiden doesn’t. At least, not right now,” she answered. “Aiden even tried to get me to tell him where to find it.”

“And you obviously refused,” Olivia said.

 “Obviously. There’s no way I’d show him where it is.”

 “But you could show us?” Milo asked. Jesse blinked at him a few times. “We could take the Eversource for ourselves and be free of The Founder’s control! Free resources for everyone!”

“That’s what I was thinking too!” Jesse agreed.

“So, I guess we’re going to go get the Eversource and rebel against The Founder with it?” Lukas said slowly.

“It sounds like that’s the plan,” said Olivia.

“Or at the very least, keep the Eversource away from Aiden,” Jesse declared darkly. “If that means keeping it from my mother too, that’s just an added bonus.”

Lukas’ eyebrows rose on his forehead while Reuben oinked.

 “So, we can get to the Eversource from the throne room?” Olivia inquired.

“Exactly.” Jesse paused and then started. “Wait a minute. ‘We’?”

“Of course, ‘We’,” Petra added. “What? You think we’re going to let you go off by yourself?”

 “Yeah. What if one of the guards finds you?” Lukas postulated. “They’re not exactly happy with you right now.”

 “No, they’re not,” she said, rubbing her upper arm. Jesse’s smile was small but grateful. “But you guys need to escape while you have the chance.”

 “If you think we’re going to just leave you behind, you’re nuts,” her boyfriend professed. His firm tone left no argument.

 “We’re not leaving you alone in this.” Milo puts his hips, his back straight and his chin out. “Even if we weren’t going to take the Eversource for ourselves.”

“We’re your friends, Jesse,” Olivia added. “We’re in this together.”

 Jesse chuckled as she looked down at Reuben, who decided that sitting on her foot was a good idea. “I’m used to doing things alone. Thanks, guys.”

 “That all being said,” Petra finally chipped in. “Can we please not talk about this in the middle of the hall in a palace with guards that want us in jail?”

 Lukas couldn’t help but laugh. “I think Petra doesn’t want us to stick around here.”

 “We should get going,” Milo said. “If we want to get to the Eversource before Aiden does.”

“Right.” Lukas stood next to Jesse. “Lead the way!”

 “All right. Follow me.” She started jogging down the hall, the others shortly after. Reuben ran ahead of them, oinking happily. “Reuben! Not so loud! We’re still sneaking, remember?”

“I ask again, why do you know a pig?” Lukas inquired as they ran.