#begging for crumbs to figure out a sense of scale for this world

[mabaris]

i refuse to believe that the events of inquisition happened in one year because i’m finally reading tevinter nights and it’s a WEEK’S journey through the mountains to get to skyhold. and that’s not even counting travel time for how long it takes to get from the frostbacks to anywhere else. at LEAST a fortnight’s travel, both ways, any time you want to go somewhere. and we’re making that trip dozens of times

[londonfog-chan]

Kylo Ren x Reader: Connect/Disconnect 3

Part 1 Part 2 Part 3 (Here)

Reader-chan’s theme can be found here. Please give it a listen! 

A/N: For all of us thirsty bitches who need more Ben Solo as a young Padawan in our lives. Enjoy this beautiful thing I made while listening to the soundtrack from Tenchi the Movie 2: Daughter of Darkness. Mayuka’s theme is so beautiful. I felt it captures the playful elegance of the reader in this story. It’s probably also what Ben Solo hears in his heart whenever he lays eyes on his lovely Reader. :) enjoy lovelies!

Do you want to know something about yourself?

Every year since you became a Padawan, there were eyes watching you.

Whenever you made a move, they were trained on you. Focused. Trying to understand- comprehend- why you never disengaged your lightsaber when you put it away. Wanting to be the source of the smile you wore as something pleasing happened. Jealous eyes, willing away Heela, Ere, and Peorth whenever they got too close. Pleased eyes whenever your kind gaze rested upon him. Lustful, desperate eyes that made his heart ache whenever you slept soundly in your hut, trained on the rise and fall of your chest as you slept. Sometimes you would coo in sleep, soft as a dove, and the eyes would glaze over with the light of a million stars. Wondering, always wondering, if perhaps the coo was meant for him.

It’s something you’d always known, but perhaps you’d blocked it out these past fourteen years.

If I were to ask you about it, you’d probably deny it ever happening, but perhaps you’d feel an uncomfortable nagging in the back of your mind that insists I’m right. Maybe if I were to come into your home now, and disturb the tranquility and kindness of your hospitality with this talk, you would at first be confused. Realization might wash over you however, if I tell you who the eyes belonged to. Perhaps your voice would catch, voice trying to accept the truth with a “yeah” that turns abruptly into “no”. Maybe your voice would raise a few octaves as you tried to deny it to my face, feeling a sense of dread as the pins and needles become more urgent when not one, but two pairs of those same eyes bore holes into you as you remain in a world of denial.

And perhaps, unbeknownst to the both of us as we sit in your humble home and drink tea while talking of eyes, there would be that same pair of eyes trying to peer through the darkness and the stars of the galaxy. Searching, always rolling in the sockets back and forth looking for the source of happiness he’d known as a child, and silently begging for the return of what was once lost.

He’d thought he’d found an angel when he first laid eyes on you. There were four young girls among a dozen young Padawans and the boys were in an uproar. Separate transports were used as Luke Skywalker’s Jedi training was strictly voluntary, some parents brought in their younglings later than others as they realized that perhaps there was merit in rebuilding the Jedi Temples of yore. It had been your parents that had asked Master Luke if he would admit young women into the training temple. They had been surprised to find that he was more than willing to take the four of you on. News had spread among the boys, and like a collective hive mind they swarmed your parent’s transport ship to see the newcomers. Ben was embarrassed, to think the son of a princess would act as if he’d never seen a girl before. Yet he had to admit it would be nice to see fresh new faces instead of the same ones taunting him day after day.

First to greet Master Luke upon arrival was a shy timid thing that was Ere, her voice hardly above a whisper as she shook the hand of the Jedi Knight. The second was more confident, giving a low bow instead of a more informal handshake and introducing herself as Peorth. All around Ben the boys whispered and laughed at her attire. Admittedly it wasn’t something that so young a girl should wear, and there was a mean spirited murmur of laughter that sounded when Master Luke told her she would have to adhere to the traditional dress of Padawans.

“Slut.” one of the boys hissed, indicating to Peorth.

“Clueless virgin.” another said of Ere.

Ben couldn’t even listen to what they said of the third, Heela, as she strongly took Master Luke by the hand and gazed upon the boys gathered with contempt. Her face spoke volumes, though she didn’t say a word to anyone. No one knew if she even spoke in Basic. Yet every glance, at key faces especially, showed that she had heard every word her brothers in arms spoke. A bit of sparkle in her eyes spoke her message loud and clear: Choose your next words wisely, and you might be able to exist on the same planet as I.

“I have to admit I’m in awe of you Master Skywalker. My hands have become clammy…”

It was the beginning of the end when he heard your voice. The way you spoke was casual, yet elegant, and he was not disappointed to find that the way you looked and moved was similar. He figured you must have exited when Heela caught his eye, her glare sending him further into his shell. You stood before the Jedi Knight with a hand behind your head, laughing as he shook your hand gratefully and teased you for being such a tittering fan. Your clothes were plain yet clean, and your hair was well kept. There was an air about you that made you out to be something more than the others.

“And where are your shoes?” Luke had asked, laughing and pointing to your bare feet. “Am I to assume that in your excitement to meet me you simply left them on the ship?”

“Such arrogance.” you had laughed, a slight dusting of pink coloring your cheeks left Ben’s mouth dry. “I never wear shoes Master Skywalker. I find them far too prohibitive for any sort of tasks I may need to perform.”

“I’ll remember that when I find some proper training clothes for the four of you. In the meantime, we all extend our warmest welcomes to you, and your friends.” he replied.

Ben had never seen such a smile on his uncle’s face before, and the gathered Padawans did not seem to know what their collective opinion of you would be. A boiling, writhing feeling of jealousy sloshed inside the pits of his stomach when in a spur of good humor, Master Luke gave you a light squeeze before ushering the four of you into the temple. As if you’d sensed it, your gaze turned to his and his heart nearly stopped when you gave a carefree toothy grin, waving slightly and scratching your head as you passed by with Luke Skywalker. Something burned in him then. He felt as though he would crawl over hot coals while being pursued by a rancor, if that was what it took just to have another smile from you directed his way.

Those eyes of his would follow you everywhere. From your happiness with Heela and the others as you bonded, from the intensity of your movements whenever you were partnered with him for training, he committed every part of your being to memory. When the other boys focused their attentions from tormenting him onto you and your friends, Ben used his time to watch you from any place he could. Often he protected you from the more cruel pranks of the others, using the force to trip them up or help you floor them during training. You had no idea, and it hurt him to simply sit and watch from the sidelines. At night in his bed, he imagined what he would say to you. You are the love of my life and I wish to be near you always, he might say… No, far too forward. Your eyes, I could be lost in them for the rest of my life.

Ever since your arrival, he noticed you had not smiled since your training began. After trying to make friends with the others and being subjected to the worst abuse imaginable, Ben saw you less and less outside of training. During mealtimes you and your three cronies always hid away from the rest of the Padawans, it must have made it easier to get through another training session with Master Luke when you could eat in peace away from what felt like hundreds of prying eyes. Only one pair ever held any regard for the group, but Ben hardly ever spoke to anyone… How could he be the mighty knight that put a stop to the abuse? Curiosity propelled his feet around the grounds in a constant search for you during free time. By some strange miracle, or by the will of the Force, he finally found your hiding places when he began to take notice of the other girls. They were good for leading him to you at least, no matter where any of them went you always followed.

“We’re meant to be here.”

“They do not want us here.”

“We are stuck here.”

“Eat your lunch.”

The forest clearing was enclosed in a fog. Ben shivered in the shrubbery, his clothes succumbing to the damp. Three pairs of eyes turn to the hunched form of Heela who dug into her portion with reckless abandon. From your left, Peorth snorted like a Gamorrean, while Ere watched Heela in revolted fascination. After following the four of you and scaling the walls of the Jedi temple to reach the court of trees that marked the boundary of the temple and training grounds, Ben noticed with a pain in his heart that most of your portions had been lost to the floor. All of you had begged for morsels from one another, but Heela had guarded hers closely and refused to share.

“As I said,” you had broken the silence, “We are stuck here. Master Luke had all of us swear an oath to remain until our training is complete, and our parents would never consent to picking us up like a bunch of frightened younglings.

“Quite right.” agreed Heela. “There is no option but to remain in our present torture.”

“May I have some of your portion?” Ere asked hopefully. Heela only ignored her, turning the plate away from the young Padawan.

“The one thing we can do is sit it out, and exact our revenge come time for practice.” you sighed, licking the tip of your finger to obtain the crumbs on your plate. Ben could have watched you do that for hours, something deep inside himself begging for that tongue.

“If Master Luke were to hear you say that, he’d be convinced you were feeling a pull to the dark side.” Ere sighed in her mournful voice.

“I do not see a similar conviction of darkness towards those tormentors when they’re the ones driving me to it.” you said. “The least he could do is punish them… To be honest I’m a bit disenchanted with my hero.”

“He will not.” Heela replied, her mouth full of food and spilling out whenever she spoke. “He does not want any of them jeopardized. Snoke’s influence is a powerful tool, and the seed of darkness could be fostered in any soul who is wronged by our Master.”

“I know my friend here values the opinion of one more than anything else that Master Luke has to offer. It wouldn’t be easy to turn you now would it?” Peorth chuckled, nudging your shoulder.

You shoved Peorth back, laughing while your cheeks flushed. Ben could feel his heart tingling, that same bit of jealousy on the first day he saw you beginning to make his stomach ache. Ere and Heela made an exclamation of mutual annoyance. Who was this person that had captured your heart? Surely… It couldn’t be one of the multitudes of boys who made your life at the Jedi Temple living hell. The younglings really didn’t care, but put a few pubescent women in with their male counterparts and there can only be chaos. Of course the younglings wanted to imitate their older brothers in arms. They all acted like animals. Harassing and heckling Peorth who was the most developed of the bunch whilst treating the rest of you like garbage. You got it too, having to put up with the moniker of “freak” while Ben did his best from the shadows. Perhaps in his neglectful moments, some other one had come in to sweep you off your feet…

“Well, she’s not wrong.” you admitted with a spry laugh. “I would give anything for Ben Solo to hold me in some regard.”

“Even if it’s just for a moment?” Ere asked softly.

“I do not want a moment Ere, I want forever. If I complete my Jedi training at the same time he does, I’m going to ask to travel with him wherever he goes.”

His heart had stopped beating for a minute. He was certain of that. He could hear your conversation but he could not understand anything that didn’t pertain to how you felt for him.

“Do not encourage her to divulge her sickening fantasies of that scrawny moof-milker Solo!” Heela snapped towards Peorth. The latter’s mouth was half open in a smirk but quickly shut. Ben was snapped out of his ecstasy when he heard Heela insult him. Her words were poisonous, they held a sharpness to them that could pierce the skin of any façade built to prevent their damage. Yet the hell with how he felt, he worried more about Heela’s rage being directed towards you.

“What did you call him?!”

“You heard me.” Heela replied. “I will not repeat it.”

The last contents of her plate were cleared, and Heela stood up to kick away stray crumbs with her boot.

“Nothing more than Bantha fodder, and I’ll not sit here any longer to hear about your asinine fantasies. We need no one, save for each other.”

“And I’m going to tell you not to insult him like that Heela! Not when he’s the only one who will ever be decent to you!” you immediately jumped up, your metal dinnerware fell from their place in your lap and clattered to your bare feet.

“Oh please Heela!” Ere begged. “Just leave her alone! Do not start a fight here, otherwise Master Luke might find us out and put an end to our tranquility.”

Ere pulled you down with her to sit, fingers tracing delicate patterns on your back while you trembled indignantly at Heela. She raised an eyebrow at you, perhaps wondering if you would accept the challenge of words despite Ere’s attempts to soothe your rage. Meanwhile Peorth said nothing, as bold as she was she would never rise up against a friend.

“That was uncalled for…” Ere finally spoke up. With a sharp turn her comrade came face to face with Ere’s neutral glance.

“How so?!” demanded Heela. “I put up with her foolishness in the beginning, but I will not tolerate such blatant disrespect of the Jedi way any longer.”

“It’s not fair.” was the response. “You take things too far. We only have each other in this time and all you’ve done is put her down. She’s not a droid, nor is she a plaything. She has feelings, and I don’t think it’s right to torment her anymore. Nor Ben, he’s done nothing to you.”

He could never remember what happened after Ere had finished speaking. All he knew was that he’d darted out from his hiding place, heard Peorth shout and felt a taste of Heela’s rage before everything went dark and cold. It had taken him a while to snap out of it. He’d heard in a dream the screaming of the other girls, a clatter of dishes, and your voice? He hoped that wasn’t a dream…

“Please wake up! Ben!”

No, definitely not a dream he decided when his eyes opened and fell upon your bright eyes. His breath hitched in his throat, upon feeling your heated gasping so close while your hand cradled the back of his head. It took him a long time to register the pain he felt while you helped him to sit up slowly. There was no one else in the clearing. The others must have left in a whirlwind, or his dying wish must have come true: the two of you were completely alone on the planet. Ben tried to avert his eyes but, you were so concerned he could not help but to meet your gaze silently.

“Are you alright? Does anything hurt?”

Nothing.

“Ben talk to me! Do we need to go to Master Luke?!”

No answer.

“Heaven help me, Heela’s knocked the words out of his mouth… We’ll get you looking decent and I’ll escort you back to the temple for the medical droids. You have bark in your hair by the way.” you murmured as he looked around, using your nimble fingers to pluck his locks clean.

“She does not like me, does she?” Ben asked softly. He could have kicked himself for being careless.

“Heela’s opinion of men is not high to begin with.” you replied, wiping the dirt from his face. “Look here, you’re going to have a bruise on the side of your head. Feel the bump. It has already begun to form.”

You patted his sore head and his hand reacted accordingly. Calloused hands reached out to yours, teasing the rough flesh with fingertips before engulfing your hand. In the moment that he touched you, something wonderful happened. A feeling, like a little spark in the kindling of his heart, ignited a pleasant glowing warm that spread from his chest to the ends of his fingertips. It was a magnificent feeling… To have you so close and concerned for him… It was as if every inch of your grace had touched his soul.

“You heard what I said?” you smiled, and he couldn’t help but smile in return. “Truthfully I had imagined a better meeting instead of you leaping out and startling Heela into throttling you… But I suppose the Force works in mysterious ways doesn’t it?”

He could only nod. Still holding onto your hand as you heaved him to his feet. He heard something, your name, introductions, but he couldn’t really make a sound after the feeling suddenly left him cold again.

“Ben? Are you alright?”

“…You have beautiful eyes…”

A pause. A glance. A turn of the head, the flash of your throat as you breathed… And then he was rewarded with a wide, toothy smile with pink cheeks. He saw all of this, felt the spark ignite again and relished every bit of it as he let the fleeting warmth wash over him again.

This one time he closed his eyes. Contented that your smile was now for him.

[whatdoyouexpectthistime]

Astoria: In Chaos - Part 1

This story is set somewhere after the events of Hydra’s Season 2, but before he gets hitched to ‘MC’ (who is actually Jazz in this instance). Der, Miho is the NEW MC.

DAY X

Miho rounded the corner with a spring in her step, but came to a sudden, jarring halt.

Before her stood a man she thought she’d never see again – a source of deep, agonising love, deep pain and terrible trepidation.

As if he too was surprised, Hades simply stood staring at her, though with far less confusion than she – after all, he had been doing the searching, and she the hiding.

Careful to not yet move, he studied her eyes, locked with his. Those hazel meres had once held such strength, a powerful, noble and idealistic passion he’d thought immutable, but now the light seemed all but gone. She was exhausted, her skin far paler than he had ever seen, her hair dull, her lips a slowly parting line of anguish he had carved there himself.

When finally he moved his hand, just the slightest of forward motions, she flinched back a step, poised to flee.

“Miho wait,” he said quickly – not quite a gasp or a hiss, not quite a barking command, but clearly conveying the urgency of his entreaty.

Her lips began to tremble, and the sea rushed to fill her eyes with waves barely held in check.

“You have no idea,” she began, her voice a mere and shaking whisper, “how much I have wanted, to hear you say my name…”

There she paused, as the knife drawing new blood from her already tattered heart, also cut deep ravines across her brow.

“… and how much I have feared it,” she finished on little more than a desperate breath.

But as she inhaled she drew herself up.

“I am so tired, so empty – just a frayed, threadbare effigy of my former self you set on fire,” she asserted through her teeth, “but I am not going back. I will not surrender - so stop hunting me.”

 DAYS 1 to 5

Once upon a time, idealistic me thought exposing and telling the truth was all that mattered. Lies, white or any other colour of the spectrum, were the root of all evil, chaos and discontent, and as a crusader, what I wanted most was to play my part in revealing them.

For justice.

For transparency.

For equity.

So good could prevail.

Well, I was an idiot, like most young zealots – blinded by self-righteousness and the lofty stature of my moral high horse.

I had cast aside the nay-sayers who told me journalism was a highly competitive fist-fight over the scraps of humanity, and set my sparkling, innocent eyes on uncovering corruption, slashing my way through subterfuge, and sticking it to the powerful who thought the ‘little guy’ was inconsequential.

Au contraire!

As one of those negligible blips in an ever shifting city, I was determined to prove it only took effort and perseverance to make a positive impact in the world. So I slogged my way through cat-up-tree stories, to burst water-mains and traffic chaos, from teacher strikes to criminal vandalism. From there it wasn’t long before I had my claws into theft and assault, and I was wolfishly eyeing off which local politician looked like he or she harboured a deep, dark secret. And I’d lived in Astoria my whole life, so I knew it like the back of my hand.

Except neighbourhoods are a whole lot more complicated than hands.

Hell, you can’t always see what’s really happening in the light, so you can forget about what’s lurking in the darkness… unless you’re a stupidly passionate investigative reporter looking for wrongs to right. Because if you’re anything like me, that leads you down dark alleys and into underground clubs, through seedy bars choked with smoke and into dens filled with monsters far worse than anything humanity really has to offer.

I stumbled into a labyrinth, resolute I’d find the bare facts at the centre – even if that meant I’d never find my way out.

But was I lost? Hell no!

Nope… wasn’t lost.

Not even once.

Knew my way back at any time.

Yep.

Back at my desk in three… two…

 DAY 6

Miho had run three blocks flat-chat, and when she finally skidded to a halt felt like she might vomit. Seeing her objective in front of her, however, swept away the nausea and refocused her mind on the goal of her mid-morning sprint.

There was a bloody great hole in the north end of Vernon Boulevard, rimming with jagged asphalt, concrete and dirt, but a cordon had already begun to take shape stopping traffic in both directions and access to Hallets Cove Playground.

“Regular cops,” she noted, still listening through one earbud to the police scanner she had tucked into her handbag.

As she looked for a way to get closer, she stretched out with her ‘reporter senses’, a preternatural ability to spot even the most seemingly insignificant detail.

No broken water mains here, not stranded cats, but also no bodies, no crashed cars, no smoke – just this ridiculous crater like something had exploded in the middle of the street.

“No bomb squad,” she murmured, slowly weaving through a group of curious bystanders toward the playground.

East River lapped gentle at the nearby dilapidated jetty, and for a moment Miho considered a brief swim might be her best way beyond the crime scene tape.

“Get back,” a policewoman growl somewhere to Miho’s right, and when her eyes turned she found a familiar figure.

“Come on,” the man grumbled, “just a few pictures; no one’s hurt right?”

“Thank you Rodger Mallard,” Miho grinned, as the other officer manning the boundary moved to assist his colleague in fending off Miho’s competitor.

She did not waste the opportunity.

Quickly she slid to the wire fence, and with her bag looped over one shoulder, she scaled the obstacle.

“They’re not here yet,” she grinned after a quick scan, and dug her phone out to begin taking photos.

What she found were several other craters like the one on the road, but she was more intrigued by the gaping great hole in the closest building. It looked like a car, or perhaps something a little taller, had crash through one wall, and continued right through and out the other side; but when Miho followed what looked to be the trajectory toward the water, she found no tyre tracks, and the undamaged play equipment between the building and the river indicated whatever had caused the destruction had stopped, or at the very least changed direction at a very sharp angle.

“You again,” came an irritated voice behind Miho.

She dodged away from the sound before looking back, a habit she’d developed after being nabbed for trespassing far too many times. As a result, the hand that had indeed reached for her swiped through the empty space where she’d been standing; it was only after she’d skipped forward and to the right a little, that she turned to look at the man who’d spoke.

Ice blue and fierce in his displeasure.

“I could say the same thing,” she smirked, backing up a little more as she tucked her phone into her pocket. “I’d say it’s nice to see you again, but you and yours have a habit of getting in the way of my stories.”

“Maybe if the tabloids had a little more respect for the victims of criminal damage, we wouldn’t have to,” he pointed out, matching her retreat with steady steps forward.

Miho became aware there was also a female figure approaching from the left, one she also recognised.

“Throw me a crumb and I’ll back off,” Miho volleyed. “What caused this damage maybe? Or how about, the name of the authority you belong to?”

Again she sidestepped when this time the woman reached for her, practiced footwork.

“How about your names so I at least know who keeps covering up these weird crimes,” she added.

Working his jaw, the man looked to his female compatriot almost as if for permission, and Miho saw the slight shake of her head.

“Fine,” he huffed, but it wasn’t in response to Miho’s request.

Suddenly he burst toward her, and it was only by a narrow margin that Miho was able to evade. If he caught her, her phone and the pictures she took would almost certainly be confiscated, and that just wouldn’t do.

As if being chased by a monster, Miho bolted for the gates of the park, even though they were closed and she could see the tall black screening this anonymous group of cover-up agents used to shroud their sites. Even if there were others on the other side, she was confident she could avoid them since she had the element of surprise.

But a tall, broad figure stepped from concealment and through the gates just as Miho reached them, and there was simply no time to stopped. Heavily she collided with the man’s solid chest, and rebounded with such force she was throw inelegantly to the ground.

Gasping and reeling from the shock of the impact, Miho sat dazed long enough for her two pursuers to catch up and block her in, but it was the shadow that had fallen over her that drew her attention.

He was also not unknown to her; she had seen him arrive at many of the other mysteriously cordoned off crime scenes over the last few months, though she had no name for him either.

“Miss Fujiwara,” he stated – a smooth baritone filled with disapproval. “This is becoming something of an inconvenient habit.”

This was the closest she’d ever been to him, and now just a couple of feet away, the magnitude of his presence momentarily strangled the witticism that begged to leave her lips.

And when she found her tongue, her first words to him were.

“Lilac hair. Bold choice.”

“Get up,” the man behind her hissed, taking her under the arm and lifting her up.

“Hey, watch where you’re putting those hands,” she protested, but did not struggle, for it seemed her muscles were paralysed by the luminescent amethysts bearing down upon her.

Eyes, two pools of liquid stardust reaching to some powerful place beyond her understanding.

Her bag, everything within it including her phone, was taken by the black suit-clad woman, while Miho continued to stare up.

“It seems you have me at a bit of a disadvantage,” she managed finally, but her voice emerged much smaller than she meant it to. “More than one, actually. If you’re going to take my stuff, maybe you could exchange it for your name? A badge maybe?”

“Hades,” he answered plainly.

“Sir?” the woman queried, her chin lifting quickly.

“Please show Miss Fujiwara to the correct side of the barrier, Agent Mann,” Hades prompted.

“Is that Mr. Hades? Dr. Hades? Officer Hades?” Miho pressed, seeming to snap out of the spell Hades’ had her under, thanks perhaps to the shove given to her my Agent Mann.

“Come on,” Agent Mann urged with an exasperated sigh.

“Come oooon!” Miho called back over her shoulder. “Professor Hades? How about Reverend Hades?”

“Reverend Hades,” Hydra smirked, when Agent Mann and Miho had disappeared from sight. “If only she knew.”

“It’s our job to ensure she doesn’t,” Hades pointed out coolly.

Though there was no longer any question about who it was Agent Mann had chosen as her lover, there was still no love lost between the god and the monster.

“Then why did you give her your name?” Hydra pursued, bristling a little.

“I hope giving her something might sate her long enough for at least this matter to be resolved,” Hades answered, but Hydra was shaking his head even half way through Hades’ sentence.

“That one’s a bloodhound, and in case her showing up at every crime scene we’ve been called to doesn’t clue you in, she’s persistent too,” Hydra told him, a little heat creeping into his tone. “She’s going to continue being a pest until we do something about it.”

“And what, precisely, would you suggest?” Hades enquired, his arms slowly moving until they were crossed over his chest.

“Silence her,” Hydra answered flatly, “or at the very least her voice.”

“You focus on who’s carving up the neighbourhood,” Hades instructed. “Leave Miss Fujiwara to me.”

 Though she tried every persuasive trick she knew in the book, Miho was unable to get the ‘suits’ to return her bag and phone until Hades himself strode to the edge of the barricade.

She pouted sourly when he held out her handbag and she saw the police scanner was gone.

“I don’t suppose you left me any pictures?” she grumbled rhetorically.

“No,” Hades answered curtly, then lifted a brow when Miho looked up at him with a suddenly sweet smile and fluttered her eyelashes.

“Phone number? The hair is totally growing on me.”

"It is in your best interests to not interfere with any further investigations," he told her firmly, watching as her hands crept to her hips.

“I’d consider it, if I knew who exactly was doing the investigating, Hades,” she suggested.

“This isn’t a negotiation,” he countered calmly, but Miho wasn’t yet done.

“You only say that because you think I’ve nothing to offer,” she grinned.

Hades shifted his feet.

“Is that your modus operandi, Miss Fujiwara? Sexual favours for inside stories?”

Miho’s grin widened, her eyes laughing.

“I don’t know how you figured I was offering sexual favours,” she chuckled. “The conclusion you jumped to out of hope, perhaps?”

At this Hades blinked – in surprise at her gall? Astonishment he’d walked right into it?

Seriousness suddenly reshaped Miho’s expression as she shifted gears.

“Damage like that has been appearing around Astoria for a week now,” she declared – like he didn’t know. “Huge holes in solid concrete, brick and asphalt with no evidence of heavy digging equipment, vehicular impact or explosives, and no evident pattern or motive, so I, and local residents would like more of an explanation than nothing to see here and don’t interfere.”

“I understand your frustration, but for your safety…” Hades began, but Miho cut him off sharply.

“I don’t feel safe in a city where pseudo-authorities, suits, relieve actual law-enforcers of their jurisdiction, and refuse answers to the tax-paying citizens who live in fear,” she growled.

“Hydra was right about her,” Hades thought a little bitterly, then spoke, drawing himself up and pressing out with his presence. “You don’t look very afraid,”

“I’m…” Miho began, her teeth bared, when it suddenly felt as if the man before her had grown ten feet, and could somehow squash her like a bug. “…not.”

“Take this as your final warning,” Hades told her, his voice shuddering its way through her skin. “Do not interfere in any further investigations of any kind. The consequences of failing to heed this will be unpleasant.”

“Threats now?” she responded through her teeth, glaring fiercely though Hades could see her trembling slightly.

“Yes,” he affirmed plainly, then stepped back and headed once more behind the barriers.

For several minutes Miho remained standing, stuck to the spot in an attempt to slow the thundering of her heart.

“What the hell,” she exhaled finally, a whispery, raspy sound.

Slowly she broke free of the spell that had rendered her immobile, and the anger began to bubble again.

“Who does he think he is with his ridiculous I just want to be trendy earring, and that unicorn, fairy-floss dye job?” she fumed.

So much for threats.

TO PART 2