#its official that xavier is a butt man

[bibbysstuff]

His favorite spot

[shesclearlya3]

In Case You Don’t Live Forever P.5

epilogue

pairing: Xavier Plympton x Reader

word count: 1,516

warnings: fluff, cuteness, slightly sad, references of smut/murder, a little cheesy not gonna lie, canon(?)

not entirely proof-read. *title inspired by Ben Platt’s song*

part 1 part 2 part 3

June 2019

"KEEP UP! Don't need any of you getting lost, now!"

You could hear Montana in front of the group of children following her to their hiking trail. There were seventeen kids in this group, all of them packed with water bottles, sunscreen, and some with cellphones as they saw the beautiful valleys of California. They talked and laughed excitedly when someone tripped up, and from having a good time.

Xavier held your hand as you followed them, making sure nobody strayed too far from the path. He was wearing designer sunglasses, smiling at everything and anyone when they asked where he got them.

"I know a guy," he'd say. 

Camp Redwood was currently in its fifth successful year. One of the siblings from the 1970 massacre decided to open it up, tearing down most of the original cabins and replacing them with nicer, updated ones. His family was full of successful architects, and they wanted to make something good come out of all the tragedy.

People were very skeptical when the news broke in 2013 that the camp was undergoing repairs and construction. The ones who were old enough to remember everything became the harshest critics. When the camp finally opened the next Summer, the number of kids barely filled a school bus. 

Yet, the six of you were there, offering your services as counselors.

After the first year, more and more kids came. It seemed that the Camp Redwood curse was finally broken, and now the children had sleepaway camp eight weeks during the Summer. In the offseason, it was open to entire families, and every Halloween, there was a haunted house, much to your amusement.

Most of the kids had come back year after year until they were not allowed to go back once they were sixteen. It was hard, growing attached to a kid who would soon be too old to come back. 

Finally, they demolished the original kitchen, much to Xavier's relief.

He never went into much detail about what went down that night, and you never pushed him. When Bertie made an appearance, he spent time with her. You'd explore, or read the limited selection of books, or rest. The others liked to spend time with you, you found a good relationship with Ray and Chet over the years. Montana stopped her killing ways once the year 2000 rolled around. 

Once you officially joined their group, Xavier came clean.

You weren't really shocked at Montana's behavior, and Xavier didn't pretend he was innocent, neither. He didn't mind capturing intruders who raided the camp, playing the "lost boy" to gather their trust, before giving them to Montana. He was angry and vengeful what had happened to him, to Bertie, and temporarily being cooked up.

When you died, that's when he killed people.

It wasn't something he was ever proud of. Your death only brought another slew of people who wanted to test their luck, taking pictures and defacing the property, like it wasn't where you and the others lived their final moments. He stabbed people, slashed their throats, even strangling ones who were particularly feisty. 

Finally, Ray was able to get to him, once again explaining this wouldn't be what you wanted. You still hadn't appeared to any of them, you were in limbo, and it pissed Xavier off. Honestly, none you had figured out why certain people came back, and others didn't. Plympton and Duke both should be happy their malicious spirits didn't pay them a visit. 

You and Xavier liked to say your relationship was going on thirty-four years, at least to your group. There was no way in hell you'd say that to outsiders, they'd think you two were crazy. 

Xavier liked to touch you, kiss your hair, neck, lips, he was a man of affection. The kids would giggle and tease him if they caught you two, and Xavier would only roll his eyes and pretend it didn't bother him, giving them smart-ass replies. It was safe to say Xavier was the favorite. 

You hadn't realized they stopped walking, bumping into Xavier's arm. He laughed, reaching down to pinch your butt. "Earth to y/n, you alright in there?" 

"I'm fine, just thinking," you sighed, leaning your head against him. The kids had begged Montana to stop, as you reached the highest point of the hills. It was a fantastic sight to you, seeing kids see nature for the first time. 

"It's our favorite time of the year. Cheer up, buttercup," Xavier said, speaking loudly just to spite the children. A small group of them turned, wrinkling their noses and saying "eeeewww," 

"Y/n and Xavier sitting in a tree," one kid, Adam, started to sing.

"K-I-S-S-I-N-G!" the rest chimed in, causing you to throw your head back and laugh. Montana grinned from the front. Xavier pouted.

"Oh yeah? Well, you guys sounded horrible, thank god we don't have a choir." Xavier said, already starting a rivalry, and the day had barely begun. 

"How about we continue, Montana?" you chirped, trying not to cackle. Some of Xavier's favorite kids stuck their tongues at him, before everybody shuffled forward, more giggles in the air as a kid already tripped. 

"You are so rude to these kids," you teased him, linking your hands together again. 

"They can handle it, they love me," he mumbled, leaning down to kiss your head. 

-

One of your favorite spots to be with Xavier was on the docks. You were still too high up to place your feet in the water, though. It was lovely sitting there, basking in the moonlight with the love of your life. He held your intertwined hands in his lap, this time leaning his head against you. His blonde hair tickled your nose.

"Xavier?" you whispered.

"y/n?" he replied.

"Do you remember when we said I love you for the first time, together?"

Xavier laughed, "Babe, I remember that day like it was yesterday. What's going on, you've been inside your head all day." he gently squeezed your hand, sitting up. His blue eyes found yours quickly. 

You smiled at his name for you, placing your other hand on top of your connected ones. "I just think about it a lot. You said it took us dying to finally confess our feelings, how long did you... love me?" you asked shyly. 

You knew it was random, bringing this up over thirty-years after it happened. You were just dying to know.

"It was the night you picked me up from Blake's house, remember him?" he asked. You nodded, knowing you wouldn't forget that piece of shit any time soon. "I remember waking up, scared because I didn't know where I was. I had a horrible trip, I didn't want my life to get that bad, you know?" Xavier coughed, trying to hide his discomfort. You squeezed his hand. 

"... He just promised me all of these good things, all of this money that I could use to finally pay off my bills, get us out of our first shitty apartment-"

You frowned, "Xavier-"

"Shh," he said, giving you a gentle smile, "I just... When you picked me up, crying because you didn't know where I was the entire night, smacking me around because you were hurt so badly." he sniffed. "That's when I understood nobody would love me as much as you do."

You had tears in your eyes as you leaned into him, pressing a kiss to his bare shoulder. "I'm sorry for uh, smacking you around," you giggled through your tears. 

"I deserved it, y/n!" he said, cupping your cheeks in his hand before pressing a loud, sloppy kiss to your lips. You were taken by surprise, until-

"EWWWWWWW!" 

You broke away from him, turning to see a small group of kids with flashlights, gawking at the two of you. Xavier smirked, waving at them. 

"That's what you get for eavesdropping!" he called after them after they scurried away, their lights bobbing around in the dark. 

"You just love torturing them, don't you?" you laughed. 

"It's the second-best part of my day,"

"And the first?" you asked, leaning closer to him. Your lips brushed together, feeling the heat bubbling between you and between your legs. 

"In the kitchen with Bertie-" he began, laughing at the surprised look on your face. You went to give him a playful smack, but Xavier disappeared. You looked around, hoping none of the kids had seen that.

"Xavier!" you giggled quietly, trying to hide it. 

"y/n," you heard in your ear, causing you to jump and scream loudly.

"DON'T DO THAT!" you said through your laughter, feeling his arms wrap around you from behind. Xavier helped you up, pressing another kiss to your lips. 

"I'll show you the best part of my day," he mumbled, trailing small kisses from the corner of your lips to your jawline. "Let's hope the others don't take a shower any time soon." 

You and Xavier took off towards the showers, laughing the entire way. 

"I love you more than you'll ever wrap your head around, Xavier Plympton,"

----- THAT’S THE END!

Thank you so much to all of you who supported and loved this story as much as I did. I never thought it would get the attention it received, it was heart-wrenching in so many ways, but I needed this story to be told. The next multi-chapter story will be of Foreign Exchange!Michael. If you want to be on that taglist, let me know!  -----

taglist: @thexmancometh​ @the-walking-daryl​ @trichy-knitts​ @shydragonrider​ @thefandomzoneisdangerous​ @lemonwhiskers​  @jetblackpayne​ @langdonsvcrd​ @okoktrinity22​ @uwonman​ @stefanmikaleson1864​ @sevenwonderwitch​ @rubbrninja

[hiddleloki]

Masterpost of Dadneto and Quickson fics

Because let’s be real, we all need them. They fill my heart with warmth and joy while the movies continue to tear it apart.  UPDATED AS OF 19TH JULY (the newest/latest included fanfics are at the bottom of the post)

Somewhere Like Bolivia by iberiandoctor (jehane), Words: 8175 (COMPLETE) After Cairo, after the school is rebuilt, Erik has every reason to leave. Charles and Peter think about giving him a reason to stay.

To Boldly Dress (Like Those Who Might Have Gone Before) by iberiandoctor (jehane) (COMPLETE) Erik doesn’t do Halloween costumes. Peter and Charles try to change his mind.

Humanity by palmtreedragons, Words: 3676 (COMPLETE) Peter and his father were as different as two people could possibly be. But, heck, they're still family, and family sticks together, or whatever. Spans pre-FC to post-XMA

Immediate Family by Glass Shoe, Words: 175534 (COMPLETE) This is the story of how Peter Maximoff loses his mother, reconnects with his father, and finds something that he didn't know he'd lost in the first place.

That’s My Boy by oneiromancer242, Words: 1113 (COMPLETE) Erik is terribly proud of his son - as Charles and Raven are about to find out.

Peter Maximoff: a Loving Son Who Couldn’t Have Brought Up That Fact Sooner by Blueci1234, Words: 4848 (COMPLETE)  Peter was a tiny bit angry that he was going to die before telling Magneto that the all powerful ex-horseman-of-the-Apocalypse-and-a-giant-frienemy-slash-love-interest-of-Charles-Xavier named Erik Lehnsherr contributed as a sperm donor (not really) to the birth of the great-not-so-great Quicksilver circa 1960 c.e., the time of mutants.

Erik Lehnsherr and His Rotten Luck with His Children by Blueci1234, Words: 2208 (COMPLETE) - SEQUEL TO PETER MAXIMOFF: A LOVING SON WHO COULDN’T HAVE BROUGHT UP THAT FACT SOONER What do you do when your children die?

Vati by naasad, Words: 254 (COMPLETE) Erik Lehnsherr is a man of many names.

A Million And One by Sam the Wise, Words: 1186 (COMPLETE) Peter tells Erik the truth, and that changes things.

Best - Laid Plans by rebecca-in-blue, Words: 2046 (COMPLETE) "Erik recognizes him immediately: the silver-haired mutant boy who broke him out of prison." My take on Erik, Mystique, and Peter post-Days of Future Past.

Peter, I Am Your Father by Queen_Valkyrie, Words: 5576 (COMPLETE) Peter Maximoff knows he should tell Magneto, big-bad-but-not-that-bad-all-the-time-I-can-sense-there-is-good-in-him-Charles-always-insists-terrorist-guy, that he's Peter's father. But it's painfully difficult to bring himself to do so.

A Knife In The Gut by Queen_Valkyrie, Words: 3081 (COMPLETE) - sequel to Peter, I Am Your Father "Every smile Peter warily offered him, every joke made at his expense, every midnight conversation pained him like a knife twisting in his gut." After Erik finds out the truth about the young man who once helped break him out of the Pentagon, he tries to connect with his son. Things don't exactly go according to plan.

That Whole Father/Son Thing by mysterytour, Words:  3054 (COMPLETE) Part of Erik doesn’t wasn’t to climb out of the well of depression and live in the world without Nina and Magda. How can he smile or laugh again when they can never smile or laugh ever again? He feels like ash caught in the chimney stacks. Everything is exhausting. Peter and Erik bond over food. Erik and Jean bond over tomato plants. Jean and Peter bond over prog rock.

Bad With Names by Cyane, Words:1469 (COMPLETE) Erik sighed. "Pietro-"He froze. Jesus Christ, did he just call him Pietro?!

The Day will Dawn by Cyane, Words: 11227 (COMPLETE) Four times someone else was there for Peter, and the one time Erik was.

We Live in a Beautiful World by Cyane, Words: 8405 (COMPLETE) His heart was screaming at him, telling him that he couldn't save all those people. He couldn't save his precious Nina, he couldn't save his lovely wife. He couldn't save any of them- he didn't. He lost that chance. What remained of his family was dead. Everyone. But he had the chance to save Peter.

The Five Times Peter Called Him Dad, And The One Time He Meant It by thecattydddy, Words: 5183 (COMPLETE) Peter Maximoff has known that Erik is his dad for a while now, but knowing something and admitting something are two very different thing.Classic Exactly What It Says on the Tin.  

Silver by thecattydddy, Words: 1609 (COMPLETE) Peter's about to die and as he stares up into the face of death, he can't help but wish they had been wrong about his father. That they had just misunderstood, but it was becoming apparent by every second ticking by that they had been right. Erik Lehnsherr - Magneto - was nothing more than a monster.

Woodstock 83 by blarfkey, Words: 7373 (COMPLETE) Peter's mouth runs just about as fast as his legs. No secret is safe from him! Except his own, apparently. The Universe hands him opportunities to confess on a silver platter and Peter just cannot freaking spit it out.

The Sun Will Shine When Morning Comes by blarfkey, Words: 5352 (COMPLETE) - SEQUEL TO WOODSTOCK 83 If Erik and Peter were a Venn diagram, their circles would not intersect. Erik thanks God every day for it. Peter has no temper. He has no rage, no tragedy. He is light where Erik is a shadow. Right now he is moaning piteously on the couch because his medicine has worn off and his headache has returned. “I’m dying,” Peter croaks. “Dad, I’m dying. I’m not gonna make it. I’m going to the spirit in the sky.” Erik rolls his eyes. There is a certain twisting in his gut, both thrilling and painful every time Peter calls him “dad.” It snags like a hook.

Jail Break by blarfkey, Words:  Words:5717 (COMPLETE) It's totally normal in Suburban America for the dad to pick up his rebellious teenager from jail, right? Even when it's the Pentagon instead of the local police station, and your dad is a Mutant Supremacist Assassin and America's Most Wanted who didn't post bail so much as murdered all the guards? Whatever. Peter will take what he can get at this point, even if it means the most painfully awkward road trip in the history of the universe.

Two Lonely Souls In A Fish Bowl by blarfkey, Words: 14033 (COMPLETE) - SEQUEL TO JAIL BREAK There are tons of fun activities in Peter’s new life at Westchester. You know, like the never ending cleaning and dusting of all four floors of that gigantic mansion, trying to arrange Charles’ old clothes into outfits that wouldn’t get Peter’s ass kicked in a theoretical high school, getting home-schooled by a genius telepath who always knows when Peter cheats, and Peter’s favorite: midnight visits from his crazy terrorist father who may not be as awful or crazy as Peter thought.

Clowns to the Left of Me, Jokers to the Right by blarfkey, Words: 15735 (COMPLETE) - SEQUEL TO JAIL BREAK & TWO LONELY SOULS IN A FISH BOWL “Look man,” Peter says, “you don’t wanna fuck with me, ‘kay? My – my dad’s gonna find me, he’s gonna kick your ass. He’ll kill everyone in the building. He’s fuckin’ nuts.” The Man smirks. “Aren’t you a little old to be depending on your old man to save you?” Before Peter can give a witty retort, The Man pats his cheek and leaves. No one is going to come for him. He is going to die here. Alone.

Shine On You Crazy Diamon by blarfkey, Words: 24335 (COMPLETE) - SEQUEL TO JAIL BREAK & TWO LONELY SOULS IN A FISH BOWL & CLOWNS TO THE LEFT OF ME, JOKERS TO THE RIGHT Five years later, Peter has gotten his college degree and settled into life as a P.E. teacher at Charles' school. He's got his whole routine mapped out: combat training with Erik and Raven in the mornings, running the Baby Mutants ragged on the field until they start planning his assassination in the afternoons, mixed in with calling Hank every variation of "nerd" American slang can provide and staring at Raven's butt when she's too busy to kick him in the throat. After all the crazy shit he's had to go through, he finds comfort in this new-found stability, even if it means he's officially a Boring Adult who shops for prunes and wheat bread. And then Wanda blows up a car.

Luke, I am your father! by PalauMaggot, Words: 2365 (COMPLETE) Okay seriously. He could have done so much better than that. Facing off with his father who gave him the best line to come clean about being related to him and he goes and says, ‘I’m here for family too.’ Yeah it’s serious and the truth and vague and everything else but come on. The guy had his wife and only child (that he knew about) killed in front of him. So he guessed that springing the whole “You have a son!” on him during the ending of the world probably would have done more harm than good. Erik might have thought they were trying to manipulate him or something. OR: How Peter tells Erik that he's sort of his long lost son.

Like Father, Like Son by leahx, Words: 4191 (COMPLETE) Peter Maximoff might not have his father's name, but evidently, he has more than enough of the infamous Lehnsherr genes, including the ones that will one day be responsible for Charles' inevitable breakdown. Or the time, after the Apocalypse, when Peter screws up and accidentally ups the population of Lehnsherr/Maximoff-ville to plus one. And Charles isn't amused.

7 Tries by krispool, Words: 741 (COMPLETE) The 7 or so tries it takes Peter to talk to his father.

And from the ashes of their world, we’ll build a better one by AryYuna, Words: 25946 (COMPLETE) “She’d never really allowed herself to think about coming back to Westchester, lest she’d end up abandoning everything in exchange for the safety of that place. The mission was too important, more than her comfort, more than everything. Safety was for the others, for the dreamers like Charles, for the kids she rescued, but someone had to live in the real world so that others could hide – her brother, Erik, Hank.” Apocalypse has destroyed everything, but they can repair it. Together.

Late Again by Bravo_48, Words: 70931 (COMPLETE) The "Apocalypse Incident" has taken its toll on Erik Lehnsherr as the aftermath of the battle has left him hollow and lost on what to do with his life. He's been from a wanted terrorist to playing the role of a henchmen to a god, but nothing felt as important to him as being a father, but even that ended with tragedy. Bless Charles' heart of gold for helping him piece himself together, but he still feels so lost........ Peter Maximoff has always lived for the thrill (and speed) of life, but that doesn't mean he can always handle it. It took him a week for his brain to register that "Magneto" was his father and a month to fully accept it. The guy didn't seem so bad. Without Erik, Peter would have never found out how to break into highly secured prisons or how great it is to be an X-Men! Too bad Erik doesn't know how much of an impact he created in Peter's life... Funny part is that even with his ludicrous speed, Peter always seems too late to tell him so. (And always picks the worst times to try.) Especially when his life decides to turn upside-down in the process.

It’s Not So Black And White by Nishloo, Words: 6913 (STILL UPDATING) Peter Maximoff is an already complicated kid - boy turned x-men, a plethora of night terrors, and the inability to look his father in the eyes. When can a guy get a break? or Peter is an angsty teen with some major PTSD who can't tell Erik he's his son.

Grace Under Pressure by IreneADonovan, Words: 604 (COMPLETE) Father- son bonding over good music and bad beer. Set at least a year after Apocalypse.(The album Peter's listening to came out in September of 1984.) Peter has finally told Erik he's his dad, and Erik has returned to the mansion to see him.

Better Men and Better Beer by IreneADonovan, Words: 451 (COMPLETE) - sequel to Grace Under Pressure Bonding, act two.

Power Windows (aka The Road Trip) by IreneADonovan, Words: 226 (COMPLETE) - Sequel to Grace Under Pressure & Better Men and Better Beer Just a little set-up scene for the road trip...

Manhattan Project by IreneADonovan, Words: 1548 (COMPLETE) - Sequel to Power Windows Erik and Peter make their first stop of the road trip in Hell's Kitchen...

Grand Designs by IreneADonovan, Words: 507 (COMPLETE) - Sequel to Power Windows & Manhattan Project Erik and Peter share a moment on the road...

Emotion Detector by IreneADonovan, Words: 566 (COMPLETE) - Sequel to Power Windows & Manhattan Project & Grand Designs A little more father/son interaction, post-XMA... 

Peter is Going To Tell Erik, Really...by ChasingAfterMidnight, Words: 4702 (COMPLETE) Peter thinks the secret of his parentage is safe, until Charles announces that Erik is going to be living at the mansion from now on. How long can Peter keep Erik from knowing? Just until the time is right... He'll definitely tell him. Totally.

Glowing Embers by Magnolie, Words: 5719 (COMPLETE) How do we move on from a shattered life? How do we rebuild bonds, trust and friendship? How do we go on, carrying those we have lost with us? There is no one right answer to these questions, but returning to those we love, endowing them with small acts of kindness and finding ways to fit in again is. Picks up right after the end of X-Men: Apocalypse and follows Erik, Charles, and the rest of their new-found family as fathers and sons grow closer and feelings that have long been forgotten slowly begin to bloom again.

Bonding by ontaunt, Words: 710 (COMPLETE) Peter finally tells Erik.

Let Yourself Fall Ill by valancysnaith, Words:  23763 (COMPLETE) Narrative blank spaces/missing scenes post-XMA. Erik comes down from a metal-high, gardens. Jubilee deserved better. Raven drinks too much, spills secrets. PSYLOCKE.

Hanging in the Stars by porcelainsimplicity, Words: 49769 (COMPLETE) note: if you want a good father/son bonding moments, along with the revelation, this one’s for you As En Sabah Nur faded from existence, Erik slowly floated down until his feet hit the ground and he could finally let go.

What Would You Have Me Do? by WhatTheWentz, Words: 860 (COMPLETE)

Peter Has Daddy Issues by Forever_A_Thief, Words: 10807 (COMPLETE) X-Men Days of Future Past through Peter Maximoff's eyes. Peter doesn't know who his dad is, but when guys show up talking about a guy who can control metal, he knows he has to check it out. But Peter definitely has some issues with the guy that turns out to be his dad...

Things That Travel Faster Than the Truth by d__aia, Words: 1597 (COMPLETE) Elizabeth meets Erik’s son.

You ARE the Father by Justbrowsing, Words: 862 (COMPLETE) Erik learns that Peter is his son.

whatever you call it, whoever you are, you need one by murdershewrote, Words: 442 (COMPLETE) That day in Cairo, Peter can’t bring himself to introduce himself to his father, so instead he tells Magneto about his daughter.

Timestretch (Close Your Eyes And Count To (Mach) 5) by Marvelite5Ever, Words: 68838 (COMPLETE) Time stretches, reality alters, and Peter tries to tell Erik that they're related.

Something Rather Wonderful by GinnyGinger, Words: 2585 (COMPLETE) "So you'll rather go your whole life wondering?" Erik asked and damn if that wasn't a question Peter had asked himself enough already. Peter Maximoff has for months been trying to work up the courage to tell Erik the truth. Maybe today is the day.

Here For My Family (here for you) by PotterheadAvengerDemigod, words: 1364 (COMPLETE) “I’m your son!” Peter squeaks out. “Don’t kill me!”

I Miss You, I Miss You, I Miss You More by afrocurl, Words: 2108 (COMPLETE) It's only so awkward to divulge a big secret in the middle of other emotional trauma, but that's the only option Peter sees right now.

Peter’s ‘Terrible but Some Good Kind of Comes Out of it’ Day by SuperAwesomePandaKitty, Words: 20164 (COMPLETE) Set two weeks after X-Men Apocalypse, Peter's leg has finally healed. The Professor has a mission this evening but Hank doesn't want peter to go on any missions just yet as he still wants Peter to take it easy for at least a week so he's on babysitting duty. Wanda has no powers in this one, there's also a ten year age gap between them.

Peter’s Stepdad by nzeedee, Words: 30043 (COMPLETE) Peter takes his time to observe and learn more about Erik as he works up the courage to make a family connection. Soon he realizes that Charles is a valuable asset in Erik's life and they may come as a unified pair.

A Million Little Gods Causing Rainstorms by Inkjade, Words: 25704 (COMPLETE) Charles rolls forward for another few feet, looks back. “I wouldn’t be asking if I had better options,” he says quietly. Then he waits. He doesn’t need to say more: the weight of all that Erik owes him is pressing against the very air. “Verdammt,” Erik mutters, but follows.

Birthday Gift by still_lycoris, Words: 1109 (COMPLETE) Peter doesn't mind if Erik doesn't come to his birthday party. Honest. 

Sweet Dreams (aren’t made of what you’d think) by rimle, Words: 32484 (MISSING LAST CHAPTER) Charles convinces Erik to stay and train the x-men. He soon finds himself falling for his old friend. Meanwhile, Peter is trying to spend more time with his father, struggling to tell him the truth about his lineage. Erik misunderstands the boy's attention as somethings else, and eventually turns to Charles for help.

Little Monster by Quicker Than Silver, Words: 48387 (COMPLETE) When Peter goes missing his mother contacts Charles who in turn contacts Erik in the hopes of convincing his friend to carry out a rescue. What happens however when Peter's true parentage comes to light? How will the other mutants, especially Erik, react to the news? Set after XM-DOFP

Patience by RobineBlack, Words: 1450 (COMPLETE) It was a well-known fact that Peter Maximoff didn’t do patience. Or slow. But he knew that when he would tell Erik that he had another family, patience would definitely be needed.

Holiday Dadneto by Queen_Valkyrie, Words: 4589 (COMPLETE) Through Halloween, Thanksgiving, and Christmas, Peter and Erik get to know each other a little better and build their relationship as father and son.

Crystal Ball by oneiromancer242, Words: 1131 (COMPLETE) Magda gives Erik something very precious to take care of.

Daddy Issues by glanmire, Words: 7170, (COMPLETE) I have a son," Erik says from the rubble. He truly is the master of dramatic entrances. or, That time Erik got wasted and crashed into the side of the mansion.

Daddy Killed The President by mokonahapuuuuuu, Words: 937 (COMPLETE) It's not everyday the guy who shot the president's your dad.

Running Time by mokonahapuuuuuu, Words: 460 (COMPLETE) Time was running out. Well, more for Peter than for him...

Fathers, Sons and Brothers by thefuzzyone123, Words: 105619 (COMPLETE) Dadneto fic! Erik aka Magneto discovers he is a father. Set a year on from X-men: first class. Can Erik rescue his son from imprisonment before it's too late?

Get him! by oneiromancer242, Words: 2704 (COMPLETE) Mistakes can be very destructive when made in a houseful of superpowered kids, and sometimes, everyone finds that out the hard way. Pure silliness.

Premature Grays by monkeygirl77, Words: 4557 (COMPLETE) Having Peter as your son is no easy task. However, Erik finds that he would never trade it for anything in the world, even if the boy insists on giving him grays before the age of 40.  Or, the many moments of Erik and Peter; where they are most certainly Father and Son.

Sick Day by oneiromancer242, Words: 6666 (COMPLETE) We all get sick, some of us needing a little more TLC than others. Lucky that Peter has his devoted Dadneto to look after him.

Sins of the Father by movieholic, Words: 11425 (COMPLETE) In which Erik Lehnsherr learns that he is, in fact, the father.

Strangers by oneiromancer292, Words: 24298 (STILL UPDATING) Erik isn't usually the first to figure things out - but just for once, when a boy comes to rescue him from the Pentagon, he gets there first. Slight AU from a reader prompt, plenty of Dadneto and Teen!Peter.

Tested by oneiromancer292, Words: 1645 (COMPLETE) Erik doesn't think his son is ready for combat. The only way to find out is to try out his moves in the training room himself. Short, not entirely serious Dadneto one-shot for a reader prompt.

The Beginning Of Something Familiar by HawkDramione, Words: 10705 (COMPLETE) Post Apocalypse. Quicksilver paid Magneto a quick visit before he left, struggling to save his relationship with his father and to fix his troublesome family.

Best I can by oneiromancer292, Words: 1643 (COMPLETE) There's nothing worse than being by yourself and feeling left out on a special day. Erik tries to make it right.

Protection by Neocolai, Words: 389 (COMPLETE) Thoughts on what might have been running through Erik's mind during the scene with En Sabah Nur and Quicksilver.

Broken Wing by Neocolai, Words: 1973 (COMPLETE) In the aftermath, Erik tends to the wounded and Peter almost confesses. (Part 2 in the Protection series)

Troublesome Patiens by Neocolai, Words: 894 (COMPLETE) Peter doesn't take well to lying in bed all day. Magneto accidentally helps. (Part 3 in the Protection series)

Stay by Neocolai, Words: 652 (COMPLETE) Peter doesn't want him to go. Erik doesn't have time to argue. (Part 4 in the Protection series)

Called Back by Neocolai, Words: 1640 (COMPLETE) Magneto had no intention of returning to the academy. Plans change. (Part 5 in the Protection Series)

Strike Out by Neocolai, Words: 463 (COMPLETE) Erik tries to appreciate Peter's effort. He really does. Some kids just can't take constructive criticism. (Part 6 in the Protection Series)

Oblivious by Neocolai, Words: 383 (COMPLETE) Erik still doesn't get it. (7th in the Protection Series)

Little Misfits by Neocolai, Words: 1314 (COMPLETE) Charles finally intervenes. (8th in the Protection Series)

Safe by Neocolai, Words: 1612 (COMPLETE) Erik checks up on his newest charge. (9th in the Protection Series)

Little Lost Bird by Neocolai, Words 931 (COMPLETE) Peter wants to know about his little sister. (10th in the Protection Series)

Newspapers and the Uses Thereof by Neocolai, Words: 783 (COMPLETE) Erik takes up the role of father. Peter is not happy. (11th in the Protection Series)

Differences by Neocolai, Words: 1492 (COMPLETE) Peter is impatient. So is Erik. (12th in the Protection Series) 

Little Genius by Neocolai, Words: 2463 (COMPLETE) Peter does the math. Literally. (13th in the Protection Series)

Jaded by Neocolai, Words: 7414 (COMPLETE) Peter discovers the memorials for those killed in the Apocalypse, and Charles is forced to mediate between two self-righteous parents. (14th in the Protection Series)

Family DIscussions by Neocolai, Words: 1541 (COMPLETE) Erik plays catch and remains oblivious. (15th in the Protection Series)

Torn From The Nest by Neocolai, Words: 6570 (COMPLETE) Peter has a no good horrible really bad day. Good thing Magneto's looking for him. (16th in the Protection Series)

Welcome to Mutant High by Neocolai, Words: 950 (COMPLETE) Charles thinks Erik should introduce his son to the newest member of the team. Erik wants to trip up his wheelchair. (17th in the Protection Series) 

You Have More Family Than You Know by Natileroxs, Words: 624 (COMPLETE) “Oh, my, god, Peter!” She hissed. “Just tell him!” X-men Apocalypse Canon Divergence because Peter should have told Erik the truth. Or at least, someone should've.

Tel Aviv by Glass_Shoe, Words: 5760 (COMPLETE) Peter leaves Cairo in shock, not because he's surprised that the incredible clusterfuck of a rescue operation cooked up by Raven and Hank and the rest of team Prevent World Destruction actually sort of worked, but because he's actually in shock, like, he's shaking and sweaty and pale. You know: shock, because you can't make an omelet without breaking a few eggs and you can't save the world without someone getting their knee completely shattered by a bald blue demi-god. A prequel to Immediate Family

Sometimes It Helps To Scream by SunnyMimi, Words: 1733 (COMPLETE) Peter was tired of it. For three years in the same vicious circle. Every day these damned missions against the Brotherhood. He was fed up. So, yes, it was time to scream at Magneto.Or...An overdramatic Peter, who thinks it would be a good idea to yell at his diva father during a fight against him.

How to Spend Time With Family by RockerRema13, Words: 27265 (STILL UPDATING) Erik is having a difficult time accepting that his tragic and cursed life now includes a long lost son. Meanwhile, Peter (his son!) seems to be getting along with everyone else at the mansion.

Sweet Dreams Are Made Of... by talkativefangirl13, Words: 34493 (COMPLETE) Peter didn’t instantly jump into conclusion when he saw Erik from afar, he’s probably having a relaxing swim or a soothing ‘me time’ contemplating about life and his stupid choices while facing down on the water, literally not moving. Nope this guy’s dying. Or where Peter always saves Erik and that one time Erik tries to saves him.

Never Gonna Be Alone (I Knew I Loved You) by Redrink91, Words: 15417, (COMPLETE) In which there is hurting and healing, and many song lyrics, as Charles and Erik move forward together. 

Boogie Woogie Woogie by BananasofThorns, Words: 118 (COMPLETE) "I have a song stuck in my head," Peter said, appearing beside Erik. "Wanna hear?" 

hold your head up (to prevent whiplash) by zedille, Words: 18981, (COMPLETE) Peter makes it to Poland in time to save his stepmother and sister. Not that he knew they existed. This is the last place Peter expected Magneto to be. No wonder he’d never found him in all his time searching. Why isn’t Magneto out agitating for mutant rights, or trying to kill Reagan on live television, or living it up at a Renaissance Faire with his cape and armor and helmet, or shacking up with women under a false name and having children — Right. Well.

Revealed by Sophie21011995, Words: 3026; (COMPLETE) After the events of "X-Men Apocalypse" Peter finally finds the Courage to tell Erik that he's his son.

The Great Mix-Up by fairyScorpicus and kraefandoms, Words: 2255, (STILL UPDATING) Erik knows Peter is related to him. All the facts are there: they have the same type of colorblindness, they have the same blood type, Erik's got it all figured out. "Charles." Erik says, sitting up in his bed at three in the morning. "I've figured it out about Peter. I've connected the dots." Charles groans, not bothering to open his eyes as he uses his telepathy. "You haven't connected shit." "I've connected them!" Erik protests. "Peter is my nephew." "No."

From the Ground Up and the Foundations Down by cjr2, Words:  21853, (COMPLETE) While rebuilding the mansion, Erik realizes he's just starting to come to terms with the guilt of having been the one to put Charles in that chair. He's also just starting to come to terms with the fact that something about Charles in a wheelchair is the sexiest thing he's ever seen.

better off without by olivemartini, words: 1743, (COMPLETE) If Erik had thought what his long lost son would look like, he probably wouldn't have thought that they would look like this. Or that they would have a kleptomaniac streak a mile wide. Or that his son's best friend would be blue, and with a tail. But then again, children very rarely match what their parents intend them to be. Erik doesn't think that Peter is overly impressed with the dad he had been dealt, either, so maybe they're even. ~or~the one where Peter finds Erik leaving the academy and stops him by telling him that he's his son

Insult to Injury ft. Dadneto (Peter Maximoff - X-Men) by whumptasticwednesday, Words: 6299 (COMPLETE) If there’s anything Peter Maximoff knew in this moment, it was that not being able to do the one thing your body was genetically enhanced to do, sucked. A lot.

What'd Ya Do? by fairyScorpicus, words: 22688, (STILL UPDATING) Peter was a loser, but losers couldn't break into the Pentagon so if he could maybe he wasn't a loser. Erik isn't dumb. The boy was clearly his son, and looked so much like Magda it hurt. "They told me you can control metal." says the boy. "You know, my mom knew a guy who could do that." and yeah, Erik believes him. ----- Basically: what-if Erik had more than one braincell and figured out Peter was his son?

5 Times People Found Out Peter Smoked, and One Time Peter Told Someone by Isapunk, Words: 2595, (COMPLETE) Peter may seem like a chill calm and collected mutant and even though he seems alright he isn’t always. *Takes place a year after Apocalypse NO Dark Phoenix spoilers! NOW completely edited*

Five Times Quicksilver Doesn’t Tell Magneto He’s His Son and the One Time He Does by evilauthoroverlords, Words: 11855, (COMPLETE) It's not like Peter doesn't want Erik to know that he's his father. He wants to tell him, really ....Next time.

Hermes, god of...Sweet Dreams & Thieves by Webbtrinsic, Words: 10633, (COMPLETE) In which Erik is a good dad, who'd do anything to bring his brainwashed sixteen year old home. And kill Stryker and the freakish doctor who took advantage of his son along the way.

realisations. by steelatoms, Words: 1550 (COMPLETE) Dark Phoenix sort of Fix-It where I actually give these two their well-deserved storyline.

Running. by NaomiPT, Words: 2079 (COMPLETE) Peter was always running from his problems, granted most of them began with 'Erik' and ended in 'Lehnsherr'. After his encounter with Jean, Peter finds himself avoiding people more, but perhaps all he needs is the person he's been avoiding the most. Or better put: Dadneto! Dadneto! Dadneto!

don't go wasting your emotion by zedille, Words: 2894, (COMPLETE) Peter has a few things he'd like to say. (XMDP crackfic/parody/fixit where Peter shows up in New York to call out Erik & give Jean a pep talk)

Mistakes were made. by Quill18, Words: 1214, (STILL UPDATING) DARK PHOENIX SPOILERS! Kurt and Hank Mcoy bring an injured Pietro to Genosha. Magneto reflects on his son and realizes Pietro is best off staying with him. AU/Slight Fix-It Fic.

The Eagle and the Hummingbird by DigestedHuman, Words: 5851, (COMPLETE) "Let's say they get a really special delivery, not like some dirty feathers or dead worms. From a bird god. That's cool. A really cool bird with rainbow feathers with a colorful basket full of eggs, that would grow up to be another bird, any kind of bird that they couldn't have ever thought of and- maybe a big stinky surprise by a lizard, or a puny little-“ “What has that got to do with anything you want to tell me?” Erik was fully annoyed at this point. Peter was talking to him like a child having the talk about bees and butterflies for the first time, and he didn’t like it. Erik clearly wanted to get over with this quickly .---In which Peter thinks he’s prepared, but Erik is not.

More Family Than You Know by leahx, Words: 11116, (STILL UPDATING) “Hank, where are we going?” “You don’t want to know.” He didn’t mean to sound so harsh, but it was the truth. Had Peter known where Hank was headed before he had boarded the jet, he strongly doubted he would have joined him on this journey. “Why not?” Peter’s alert gaze was fixed on Hank as he waited for his response. Hank sighed, enjoying the last moments of peace. "We're going to Genosha." ...or the fic where Peter, instead of being in a coma for the entire movie, joins Hank on his revenge quest to Genosha, where he's forced to face none other than his father, who may or may not already know the truth about the cheeky speedster.

[news-mashable-yahoopartner-blog]

The Myspace-era bands keeping the internet's weirdest music genre alive

The internet can be a deeply unsettling place, especially when you stumble upon videos that you probably should've left alone. But, if you were like me in 2011, you sought out the weirdest of websites and the creepiest of pastas, then shared your intel with all your post-emo friends.

By 2016, I was surfing the internet for some quality spooky material during my college years when I stumbled across something called witch house.

SEE ALSO: Meet the man who makes music with vegetables

It was a musical genre most had pronounced dead — and yet was still surviving and thriving in the weirdest corners of the internet. Two major artists from the early days of witch house, known as White Ring and Ritualz, have been instrumental in helping keep the genre going.

"I really don't know if witch house was ever really alive honestly," Bryan Kurkimilis, one-third of White Ring admits. "It seems like it's always going to be in a perpetual adolescence when it came out 10 years ago, and it's kind of stuck there now."

Kurkimilis' White Ring started off back in 2006 as a duo featuring him and vocalist Kendra Malia. In 2011, the duo went on hiatus, and in 2016 Adina Viarengo joined the band to serve as the group's second vocalist. Now in 2018, with their debut album Gate of Grief finally complete, White Ring is back on track and very much determined to keep witch house relevant.

According to Vulture, witch house music was birthed during the late 2000s and early 2010s during the end of the Myspace era. But the genre's deep, dark electro-wave sound, and the occult imagery in its lyrics, fashion, and music videos have continued to draw fans in well past the genre's prime. 

Early witch house artists typically produced spooky tracks that sampled from '90s and '00s horror films and hip-hop records. They layered these samples with heavy bass riffs, lots of synth, and sometimes vocals. Visually and aesthetically, people in the community reflected this dark music by incorporating magic symbols, upside down crosses, and pentagrams into all black hip-hop clothing. 

Like many things created on the internet, witch house had a relatively short shelf life. The term itself appears to have come about in 2009. Travis Egedy (known as Pictureplane) used it in an interview to describe the music he and his friends were producing. 

"Mark our words, 2010 will be straight up witchy," Egedy wrote in Pitchfork. 

Travis Egedy in his warehouse/studio

Image: Denver Post via Getty Images

He wasn't wrong about 2010, but mainstream interest in witch house didn't last long. The genre tapered off in the early '10s when it was overshadowed by vaporwave, another internet-fueled genre of music.

"I think people are still looking and hoping for witch house bands that have gone away to find a way to come back," Adina Viarengo of White Ring said. "I feel like there's a really devoted base that wants more of this kind of stuff. There's a need for it right now."

The demand for this type of music is something that drives artists like JC Lobo of Ritualz to continue to producing tracks. He started his career on Myspace in late 2009 with just a computer, and to this day Lobo continues to make music that is influenced by this largely forgotten era of music. He released a Ritualz album titled Doom earlier this year.

"It's really different now because witch house isn't as visual anymore because everyone's been a part of the scene for a while," Lobo explained in a phone call. "But the music is different. It's definitely a lot more techno and ravey compared to its earlier hip-hop sound."

"I'm not really a part of the scene anymore," Lobo said. "But when I'm on tour, I play witch house songs and all of the kids from the community come out and listen along."

Lobo posing for the camera.

Image: Courtesy of JC Lobo / Taken by Francisco Mendez

"Witch house was innovative," Lobo said. "It was new and dark, which was really important because it had been a long time since that kind of music was appealing to a large audience."

What made witch house such a strange phenomenon was its purposeful obscurity. Witch house musicians hid. When I accidentally stumbled upon the genre after listening to a witch house remix of a Charli XCX song by BLVCK CEILING, I was happy to know there were a ton of artists and tracks out there — even if they were hiding their names behind band names made up of random symbols.

While BLVCK CEILING was my own personal introduction to the genre, other artists from the community have made their mark on the scene, some even as early as the Myspace era. A few notable artists from the community include GR†LLGR†LL (pronounced GrillGrill), oOoOO, and Salem.

Artist names featuring crosses and inscrutable symbols are typical. For someone outside of the scene, it's a challenge to find specific tracks or musicians. While Ritualz hid behind the logo "†‡†," White Ring had an all-white Myspace page that required the user to highlight the entire page to see text about new tracks and announcements.

"I always think of it as having a punk spirit where everything is always a 'fuck you,'" Kurkimilis said. "It's like I'm gonna release a song, but I'm gonna do it in this weird way."

Having an immortal punk spirit is obviously cool and all, but the people who helped cultivate it eventually moved onto other projects. While White Ring and Ritualz are the only major figures to release full albums in recent years, other notable artists in the community find interesting ways to stay relevant.

Image: Nigel Ryan / Courtesy of white ring

Take witch house rapper Gvcci Hvcci (pronounced Goo-chee Hoo-chee), who was a major figure back in 2011. As one of the very few prominent women producing witch house tracks, Gvcci amassed a cult following.

In 2012, a post on crvckhouse, a Tumblr page dedicated to promoting witch house artists, claimed that Gvcci Hvcci had passed away. Lobo, who was apparently the last person to collaborate with the rapper, was the first to speak about the news, and confirmed her "death."

"Shortly after our track came out, people kept asking me where she was," Lobo said. "I eventually just started to say 'she's dead' because I was friends with her producer who said she closed all of her accounts and was going to stop releasing tracks." 

Prior to her "death," Kurkimilis says he actually had a brief interaction with the mysterious figure in 2011 over the phone. Around this time, rumors began to circulate that the pictures Gvcci Hvcci had used to promote herself were fake. Her entire identity was in question. 

"I know for sure it's an actual girl," Kurkimilis claims. "She was not the girl in the photos, because a friend of hers showed me a real picture of her. I know she's a real person."

After seemingly catfishing everyone in the community, Gvcci Hvcci had made a name for herself. Her infamy would continue to grow after her supposed "death."

Just two short years later, to everyone's shock, Gvcci Hvcci released a track titled "Bullet in the Head." The witch house community went into a frenzy. The rapper, who was now revealed to be alive, took advantage of the cultural moment. As the lyrics go, Gvcci was officially "back from the dead."

Had Gvcci Hvcci really faked her own death for recognition? The answer is murky. Some community members aren't convinced that the Gvcci Hvcci who returned is the same artist from 2011. 

"I just never denied anything and I was playing along with the myth of Gvcci Hvcci," Lobo admitted. "The producer found a different girl, or unreleased tracks, I'm not sure which. I didn't really keep up with the story but it's funny how people are still speculating years later." 

These days Gvcci Hvcci is relatively silent. An unfinished track titled "ttryan" which was released in January of this year serves as her most recent published work on Soundcloud. When we approached her on Facebook for a statement, the anonymous rapper responded with: "Guess what? Chicken butt," and sent a link to her Go Fund Me page. 

Gvcci Hvcci continuing to troll in 2018

Image: Mashable / Xavier Piedra

On the page, Gvcci Hvcci is asking for $2,500 to help produce and release her work-in-progress track, "Issa night." In the past six months, Gvcci Hvcci has raised $130 from three people of her $2,500. As of September 2018, there have been no updates on production of the new song.

Song titles hiding behind symbols and artists with mysterious personas are what makes witch house unique — and what's kept the genre fresh. 

When musicians like Gvcci Hvcci fake their deaths, or when artists like White Ring return from a years-long hiatus, it helps revitalize the community. Like any dedicated fanbase, lovers of the niche genre get excited when they hear news about their favorite artists, good or bad.

Without witch house, we wouldn't have mainstream artists like Charli XCX, Chvrches, and Grimes, who've attributed parts of their style and sound to this genre of music.

"It’s hip-hop for goths," Charli said during an interview with Self-titled magazine in 2012. "I like the whole scene – the cult imagery, the upside down crosses. I love witch house."

Charli XCX during the early days of her career in 2013.

Image: Caitlin Mogridge / Getty Images

Despite its age, witch house still has a place within our culture. While the dark aesthetic and sound might not appeal to everyone, witch house continues to persist, especially on the internet. In fact, Lobo's a firm believer that witch house marks a major chapter in the history of internet culture and music.

"I think witch house has amazing value as being one of the first generations of music born from the internet," Lobo said. "Before then you didn't have any dark or ambient music, so it was a really good balance for internet music genres like chillwave and vaporwave that had mainstream appeal."

The sound itself has shifted a bit over the past ten years, and whether or not it's a positive change is up for debate. Shifting from its hip-hop-inspired sound, witch house has become more clubby and electronic than ever. Lobo attributes this change to the need for faster music that people can dance to.

"I wish it would go back a bit to the days of droning sounds and anonymous artists," Lobo said. "It seems like a lot of people are trying to make it about dancing, and I notice that's a big focus for producers. But the appeal at first was to listen to this weird and dark ambient noise."

But why should anyone listen to this music in 2018? "I think its good to have a balance in your life especially with music," Lobo explained. "Listening to different music will help you understand different people and communities, so it's important you give it a chance and try a bit of everything."

Image: Courtesy of Ritualz / Taken by Daniela Quant

Like any genre of music, witch house has cultivated a community of followers who are dedicated to their favorite artists. Specifically within the witch house Reddit community, the page stays somewhat active as new artists create and share new tracks, or when, for example, White Ring makes an unexpected return.

"Once a genre is created, it can never really go away," Viarengo said. "I know there are pockets of people all over the world who are into witch house that are going to continue experimenting with it."

Lobo agrees and believes that witch house's hip-hop and electronic roots will allow it to evolve alongside these genres.

"I don't think it will ever get stuck," Lobo said. "Hip-hop and electronic music has been changing over the past 30 years, and witch house's sound will continue to be influenced by those two styles of music. Audience-wise it might get stuck, but it can get bigger still, it just need some more time."

With White Ring and Ritualz at the recent forefront of the witch house movement, the community and genre are still in good hands. While I wait for more tracks to feed my goth fantasies, I'll be casting spells to Gate of Grief and Doom on repeat.

WATCH: We made that scene from 'The Shining' a lot less scary with bad foley

[mindpenis]

Abyss Chapter Six

Sometime in the pre-dawn, I heard my door being unlocked. I hadn't fully slept, instead dozing in a chair by the window, so I was fully dressed and came to awareness quickly. One of Damaris' servants entered; the woman, in fact, who bore resemblance to Marion, who I had seen returning to the house earlier. Businesslike in her manner, she requested that I accompany her downstairs.Once again I was brought to Damaris' grotesque library. Umaru, the Malay, along with the individual who bore superficial resemblance to Damaris were there, and right behind me came Marion, disheveled, her hair unpinned, apparently having slept more readily than I had. Marion was accompanied by the man who resembled me. Seated in a high-backed, cushioned chair that had been placed near her display-case of heads, sat Damaris herself.With that grisly background she looked as I imagined some barbaric queen in a cheap novel of antediluvian lost-civilization might appear, an impression gainsaid only by her tight-bodiced, modern dress. She wore no bandage at her ravaged throat, but a dark blue satin choker. Her legs were obscured by the fall of her long skirt, but they did not move – I wondered to what degree they had been splinted.I didn't expect her to be able to speak – her vocal cords could not have escaped damage from the throat-slitting – but I was wrong. Her words came in a whisper, but they were easily understood.“Remember,” she said, “I told you not to fear time or violence. Not when you are fully part of us.”I had numberless questions for her. But many I now wished to ask her alone.She quickly went on. “Tonight is New Year's, and soon enough you two will experience your own Depuration. But before that we have some old business to clean up. Earlier Clive, Elizabeth and Miriam,” she indicated the trio we had seen depart before our journey in the Archon underworld, “along with Umaru, spent the evening leading some of my daughter's associates across the city, ultimately to a house I own quite far from here, which they naturally and quite erroneously concluded to be the site of our Depuration. Grace knows that we are uniquely vulnerable after the first night of our rite. She tried to pry its location out of you, doctor...and failing that, put watchers on this house, which we have properly led astray.“The purpose was to in our turn follow those watchers, to see if we could discover where Grace herself is staying tonight. She moves about a great deal, and can be distinctly hard to pin down. She is, at this moment, in a brothel called the Solon, in the Liberty of Clink in Southwark, not far from the prison and Cross Bones graveyard.”“A brothel?”“Yes, James. The Solon is an establishment I know very well. A nest of women that periodically prey on their clientele using Archon life-extending techniques in a bastardized manner.”“And you let them get away with that?” Marion, ever attuned to the pragmatics of revenge, sounded surprised.“I'm not so linear in my thinking,” Damaris answered. “My daughter introduced them to those techniques, of course. Part of her effort to create a counter-force to our network of Archon servants. Crushing them would have been easy, but it's been in fact an interesting study to observe how our methods work while missing several key elements that only true Archons possess. The women of the Solon do indeed remain young, though time only pauses for them, not stops. Also, from time to time I have a wish to remove some servant of our order who has developed loyalties too focused on one of my six elite associates. By surreptitiously exposing that individual's identity to the ladies of the Solon, I can unleash cats upon a canary. Archon servants who have undergone our full rite in Africa are a potent delicacy for thieves of life like my daughter and her followers.”Damaris seemed to choke slightly on the last words. She raised a hand to her throat, massaging it while her breath caught in a ragged manner.“Are you all right, Mistress Ruha?” Marion asked.Damaris, after a moment, controlled the fit. “For a while speaking and swallowing will present a challenge,” she whispered. “Nor will I be able to walk without supports for a number of days. I believe Saklas was particularly irritated with me.”One question, at least, I wanted an open answer to. “Your fingers. One from each of the Archons. Why?”“So I could show you this, my dear James.”She held up her maimed hand. The side where the little finger had been removed was not bandaged. I was amazed enough that the still-open wound had no stitches, but then, looking more intently, I saw a small growth emerging where the finger had been.“You may look closer.”I moved forward and she extended her hand toward me. I examined it closely, scarcely able to believe what I was seeing.“It appears to be...”“Regenerating. Before January is out, my hand will once again have five fingers. The same will be true for my associates. As I said, we wished to demonstrate to you that violence – short of that so extreme even an Archon could not recover from it – need no longer be feared if you become one of us.”Damaris lowered her hand, turning her attention to the trio of mimics.“You three will go out again, this time to one of my other homes in the city. Miriam, as Grace's watchers will have no idea of the extent to which Saklas damaged me, you need not ape my current state in full. The intent is merely to draw away the focus of Grace's agents here in this neighborhood. She is to have no warning, nor any form of reinforcement from this quarter. James, Marion, Umaru, you will be going to the Solon to collect my daughter.”Umaru went to an elaborately-carved cabinet, from which he took two decidedly modern objects. Pistols, one of which he gave to Marion, the other to me.“And what do you propose we do with these?”“You may not need them at all, James. And Umaru, when hunting, dislikes firearms. But my daughter is distinctly dangerous. My expectation is that by the time you arrive she will already be in hand, but one never knows. You three will not be alone at the Solon. I've been sending agents of my own for some time to build up the illusion of being a normal part of their clientele. Regulars by now, purchasing nothing more outre than conventional fucks. The ladies don't kill everyone that utilizes their services, that would make for a short-lived business. When I learned earlier tonight that Grace was there, I sent instructions to a number of London men well known at the Solon. They went to ostensibly do the standard business of enjoying some fornication, but in fact are tasked with killing everyone – except my daughter – in the whorehouse.”My hand tightened involuntarily around the butt of the pistol – a movement that did not go unnoticed by Damaris.“James,” she sighed, “these are people who have murdered for the reward of a pretty face. By contrast, only once, on the second night of the Depuration, do the servants of the Archons kill one another without very great cause. After that, we feast on each other and live. Your response to my actions regarding the Solon lacks perspective.”“So you justify yourself by classing your philosophy as...good God...gentler? Or that it is all right to kill venal people just because you call them that?”“As a conscience you're more irritating than persuasive. Even were the women of the Solon pure innocents, that wouldn't matter. They are sparks floating in a wasteland, to be harvested and re-sown. As beautiful dead as they could ever be alive. But I won't take part in an inevitable argument with you now. We must be quick, or lose the moment.”Miriam, Clive and Elizabeth departed. Umara too moved to the library door, and Marion, after a glance toward me, followed.“James,” came Damaris' whisper. “A moment.”Alone with me, she looked up from her chair, her disturbing grey eyes unreadable as to their emotion.“Ask,” she said.“Wife, mother, father, daughter, lover, wife?”“Ah. James, I know you are a hard-headed man regarding that which is mystic in life. Have you ever considered the existence of reincarnation?”“Hindus are profoundly attached to it. Surprising, considering all that you've gone to such lengths to show me, that it's an interest of yours.”“Yes, superfluous to someone with a body that may well last forever. And we have done many extreme things in a short time to bring you closer to accepting the reality of a life near-eternal. But you have a great difficulty in processing the place – and the future – of those that do die. The spark that I've spoken of, the pneuma, which is the human link to the beginnings...that is also a part of what we use in our work to shape that future. However, we sometimes snuff out lives from necessity or in retribution, and those sparks may replant themselves in ways that are unexpected, but recognizable if you know how to look.”“It strikes me that your esoterics – for all that you've demonstrated some of their basis in reality – are a means to justify whatever cruelty you wish to indulge in.”She smiled, a little ruefully.“You do sound like him,” she looked toward her hideous cabinet of decapitated heads. “James, before Carson Xavier became Grace's husband, he was my husband. Before he was Grace's lover, he was her father. I've told you, life with the potential to stretch across centuries changes our perspectives on the roles of coupling. As to the esoterics you have such a tendency to dismiss, consider this. Umaru was the instrument of Carson's death, but Saklas was present, in fact he officiated over it. And he is a noted devourer of the pneuma of his victims. A short time later, he used for one night a Whitechapel whore – an individual of no consequence, who stirred him to lust based on physical qualities of genetic excellence. He immediately discarded her. She would die within the year. Giving birth to you, dear man. I assure you, he had no interest in prompting a carnal return of my former husband. But sperm is reckless, and quite naturally filled with the residues of the human pneuma.”“There are Bedlamites who consider themselves the return of Julius Caesar, or Jesus Christ, or Henry VIII,” I answered her. “They pass their brilliant returns tied into straightjackets.”“You consider my mind diseased, sweet James?”“Perhaps I'm more surprised that you would embrace so much... romanticism for your delusion.”She laughed...a grating in her ravaged throat that made her cough. “Love, for me, is hardly a swooning boudoir game. And I loved my husband very much.”And what could I say to that? I looked at her in silence.Finally she lowered her eyes. “If you wish to go and rescue the doxies of the Solon, it's certainly too late for that. They are very likely succumbing to their erstwhile clients' attentions as we speak. A fait accompli. But you still have the opportunity, I believe, to bring Grace, alive, to me. I'd like the three of us to talk.”I stalked out, my mind once again roiling. Every conversation with the woman ending up filling me with fury. Her knowledge of my mother – of whom I had known nothing – just added to my anger and frustration, as she had made her disregard for the woman patently obvious. The absurdity of her reincarnation talk would have ordinarily caused me to class her at the level of a follower of nonsense spouted by the likes of Madame Blavatsky, but even that was challenged by the astonishing medical feats of which her Archons were capable. The further revelation of an incestual circle among these people, normally enough to elicit shock, seemed almost normal when compared to all the rest.As I left the library, Marion cocked an eyebrow at me. “May I ask what that was about, doctor?”“No.”“Well. I'm not keen on being summarily dismissed, but I guess we're something short of boon companions. In a way it's almost a comfort to see you being rude, doctor. Saints in general make me uneasy.”Umaru frustrated further talk by taking two overcoats from a hallway stand and holding them out to Marion and me, before shouldering into his own. I surprised myself by the level of anger I felt toward him as well; Damaris and Xaus having been the architects of Carson Xavier's death seemed to fade into the background of my emotions as I stood here before the living instrument of that death. A result of psychological manipulation...hardly the lust of a reincarnated spirit to take revenge on his killer. And yet, it took an effort to push down a surging desire to take out the gun I'd just been given and fill him with bullets.And why would Damaris see fit to arm us, while pointedly alluding to Umaru lacking any such weapon? A test of rebeliousness, backed by absolute confidence in the big man's ability to – do what? Disarm us with ease should we misbehave? Shrug off bullets?I accepted the coat, thinking briefly of my own burned coat and what was likely the smoking ruin of my office and flat. I put the pistol into my belt and closed the coat over it.Marion, instead of putting on her own garment, handed it back and turned around, spreading her arms slightly to encourage Umaru to drape the coat on her, which he did. She turned around again, tilting her head back to look up at his face.“I've yet to hear you utter a word,” she said. “Is that just your manner, or do you lack the equipment in some way? Given all the exciting demonstrations of Archon healing, I expect if Mistress Ruha had your tongue cut out, it would simply grow back.”When Umaru answered, in heavily accented but perfect English, Marion was so startled she jumped.“You would do well,” the big man said, “to learn the meaning of dignity.”“Lord, he's really smart,” her laugh sounded somewhat forced. “And ruder than you are, doctor.”Umaru simply adjusted his gaze until he was looking over the top of Marion's head. His eyes rested on me, with, I thought, a particular intensity. Had he heard some part of what Damaris had said, and did that also carry for him the echoing remembrance of deeds done a half-century before? I knew nothing of the man, beyond the statement by his mistress that he was Congolese, a warrior, and at the command of my father and herself, had killed Carson Xavier. Now he was being sent to capture Xavier's wife...daughter...bizarrely both.He led us back down into the basement, once again taking to the walking-tunnels. This time we did not travel far, no more than leaving the neighborhood of Damaris' house, before we ascended again. A door cleverly melded into a brick pattern opened from pressure applied by Umaru, and we came out into an alley. Soft snow continued to swirl through the darkness.A carriage waited for us there. With a curt wave of his hand Umaru dismissed its driver, climbing himself up to the bench. While the driver departed into the bricked entrance of the tunnels, Marion and I entered the coach. No sooner were we seated than the carriage jolted forward.Marion was examining the pistol she'd been given. Abruptly, she handed it to me.“Will you see if this thing is properly loaded? I rightly confess to having no lack of guns around me in life, but never schooling myself in shooting them.”So she was suspicious about having been given weapons too. I opened the chamber, satisfying myself that it was indeed loaded. I tipped the open chamber toward her, displaying the bullets. “It has no safety,” I said. “Be cautious not to carry it with your finger inside the trigger guard.”“Or I'll shoot myself in the foot?” She laughed, taking the pistol back and putting it in the pocket of her coat.For a moment, she too looked at me very intently.“May I ask how you intend to conduct yourself on this little foray? I presume with no intent to kill anybody, despite the prophecy Mistress Ruha gave that you're to become a great slaughterer of women.”“I don't know,” I answered truthfully.“Well. Look doctor, aside from all the blood and fucking, you and I aren't exactly what I would call intimates. But I've got no one better to talk to. I'll tell you I'm not completely pleased with the way things are shaping up. Your little private tete-a-tete and other rather obvious signals makes the promise by our mistress of no favoritism somewhat shaky to my way of thinking. The lady Ruha is clearly fixated on you. Her interest in me seems to have more to do with money. What she told you about my history is perfectly true. I have cash aplenty from my daddy and granddaddy's enterprises. I've not the slightest doubt that Mistress Ruha would be pleased to suck up a great deal of that for her own endeavors, and I've no objection, if I'm paid off in years of youth. But the claws she wants to sink into you carry a little more weight than cold cash, if I'm any judge of the ways of the world.”“I won't fight you in their monstrous arena, Miss Bama.”“So you say. So where does that leave me? Not much better...the Archons seem a trifle rigid in the way they like things done. Do I get what I want for dispatching a sacrificial lamb?”I had no answer for her. Perturbed as she seemed, she didn't press the matter. The carriage tilted slightly upward, and she opened the side window. Snowflakes drifted in, but I could see the dark, slow-flowing expanse of the Thames. We were crossing one of the river-spanning bridges into Southwark.The district was of course noted for its clandestine and edge-of-society activities – it had the repute of being rife with criminal cliques, which thrived beyond the law maintained north of the Thames. I'd thought the mystique exaggerated – visits of my own to the famous theatres in the area had been picturesque but in no way dangerous – but apparently, if anything the criminality of the Clink had been understated.Marion continued to look out the window, and I also watched, looking past her outlined profile.And how did I intend to comport myself once we reached our destination? I felt myself past my initial urges to call down the authorities on this strange and violent underworld. Marion's Louisiana logic of a man fallen afoul of the Ku Klux Klan was perhaps more apt than I'd originally considered. Given the elaborate infrastructure behind Archon activities, Damaris almost certainly had any number of officials in her pocket. To have ordered multiple murders in a bordello and not expect the newspapers to be crazed with it the next day implied that she had the power to clean it all up afterward and cause all evidence of the act to disappear. Even if I could somehow divine what authorities were not possessions of the Archons, those individuals would doubtless consider me a lunatic.Yet I was riding in the company of two murderers, to a scene that promised mass death, to apprehend a woman who had mutilated me.The carriage came to a stop. We had been traveling through streets without public gaslight since coming into the Liberty of Clink. In somewhat eerie fashion, that actually caused more light to seem present – ambient light reflecting from the city proper into the low clouds of the storm. There was little of the deep light-and-shadow to be found on the gaslit streets of London; a general soft glow permeated everything.The carriage lurched as Umaru climbed down from the bench. Opening the door I alighted, with Marion right behind me.The building before us, presumably housing the Solon, lacked any sign or mark to show its identity. Its windows were curtained, though behind some the uneven light of candles shone. A short flight of steps led up to a stoop before the closed door. The snow had become heavier. It settled on my hair and the shoulders of my coat as we went up.Umaru turned the knob. It was not locked; at his touch, the door opened easily.The foyer, scented with perfume and incense, gave into a reception room furnished with a number of upholstered couches and chairs. A heavy candelabra suspended from the ceiling, but most of the wax tapers in it had burned down, leaving dull, smoking candle-stumps in their sockets. The few that still burned shot a fitful yellow light around the room.The reason for that neglect was clear. At most such establishments the madam greeted clients from a centrally-situated chair or desk; sprawled across the Solon's reception desk was a beautiful woman whose jet-black hair, somewhat prominent nose and dark skin marked her as being of Indian descent. She'd been garroted. The cord used to strangle her cut so deeply into her neck her head had been all but severed.Since the killers sent by Damaris had posed as regular bordello clients, I could only guess that after being conducted one after the other to rooms with the prostitutes, one of the men had finished there, and returned to eliminate the madam. So there could be little hope that any still remained alive.Umaru went to look at her, lingering to examine the ghastly near-decapitation.“Semi-immortal or not, I don't think she's getting up from that,” Marion said.Suddenly a sharp sound rang out from above – a single report, followed by male voices shouting. Umaru raced to the stairs – which presumably led to assignation rooms on the second floor – with unhesitating speed. I took out my pistol and followed, Marion at my heels.The second floor presented a long hallway stretching to right and left, with doors at regular intervals. Candle-sconces along each length of hall had also burned low. Umaru had moved to the left, where five men had gathered at the foot of another stairway, recessed into the wall, which led up to the third story.As Marion and I passed one of the rooms, I looked through its open door to see another dead woman, naked and spread-eagled face down on the room's bed. She too had been strangled; the thin ligature-end trailed from under her hair down her back. Attempting to help her was pointless – the unnatural cant of her head showed that she too had been all but decapitated.My heartbeat pounded in my temples. The sight should have filled me with horror. Or at least driven me to the mind-place I had learned to adopt in battle, where I could detach myself from acts of carnage. But instead, with the force of a wave, I felt as I had in the hallucinatory incident with Grace and also with Damaris and Marion while hypnotized. Hunger, sexual hunger, gripped me. The curve of the dead woman's back and buttocks, the repose of her legs and feet...her arms with limp fingers...all seemed to possess an overpowering eroticism.My thoughts ran like a runaway train, thinking that I could...I had to enter the room, close the door, take her...no one would judge me, these people probably felt exactly the same.What had they done to me? I was under the influence of no drugs. Damaris was not present to work her diabolic mesmerism on me. With an immense effort of will, I stepped past the open door.Several of the men in the hall – some of whom were naked, some partly so – were speaking at once to Umaru, their words falling over one another.“Had the mad-eyed bitch...sleeping like a baby...she's pure hell...she knifed Thomas here and got loose...offices upstairs, she must have had a pistol there...took a pot shot when we tried to go up.”Umaru was looking up the staircase, as if contemplating a rush to the top floor. Long-time servant of the Archons that he was, perhaps he really did believe bullets from Grace would only be a minor hindrance.Before he could decisively move, I shoved past the knot of men. Several steps up I turned and leveled my own pistol at them.“Doctor, what are you doing?” That was Marion; at the sound of a woman speaking the cluster of men turned to look at her, wondering perhaps, if one of the cathouse-women had evaded them.I used the moment of distraction to fire two shots – one into the shoulder of a naked man, the second creasing another's torso. I was not shooting to kill, but to control these maniacs. The man who had taken the shot in his shoulder clutched at it, gasping, “What the bloody Christ...”Whether or not I could have controlled the situation became moot only a second later, as I felt a hard impact in my back and a burning burst of pain. In short order four more shots from above followed. Marion and the men scattered into the hall on each side of the stair-foot. I could not see if any of them had been struck by the bullets.I turned, looking back and up, and saw Grace on the landing at the stair-head. She had a pistol in one hand, a bloody knife in the other. Backlit by a candle-sconce on the landing, I saw she was barefoot, dressed only in a black shift-dress. Her hair was down, her dark glasses absent. As one of the killers had said, they must have caught her in her sleep.“Fucking murderer!” she shouted, continuing to pull the trigger of her pistol several times before fully realizing she had expended its bullets. She hurled the empty gun down the stairs – it went by my head, to abruptly strike Umaru in the chest right below me. I had not realized the warrior had returned from the shelter of the hallway to come charging up the stairs.He paid no attention at all to the pistol bouncing off the front of his coat. He shoved me against the staircase wall, slapping the gun from my hand. It also clattered downward to the foot of the stairs. He bounded past me.I rose, flinching at the pain the movement caused in my back. Difficult to gauge the severity of the wound, but I was able to get my feet under me.Marion was there then, helping to steady me. I looked back down the stairs. “The killers...”“Piss-ants, more like,” she replied. “Brave enough to strangle fuckery-girls from behind. Maybe they'll realize that there are five of them and succeed in screwing up their courage.” She looked up. “The boy went off, though. Do you think he got her?”Both Grace and Umaru were gone from the landing.My legs held, and I went up, Marion staying close to me. In the dimness and amid the mayhem she didn't seem to realize I had taken a bullet. The pain had settled as a throbbing ache in my lower back, but I could move well enough.At the top of the stairs a shorter hallway than the one below led from the landing. A few steps down the hall an open door gaped. I looked in – though no candle burned there, it seemed to be an office. I could make out a map of London pinned to the wall, and beside it was surprised to see a map of Africa. Hard to tell in the dark, but it did not seem nearly as complex as the one Damaris possessed. But clearly the women shared a similar interest in the skull-shaped continent.“Doctor!” Marion called.She had continued along the hall, coming to a door that stood slightly ajar. Inside was a narrow utility staircase, uncarpeted, leading further up. Wet footprints glittered slightly on the worn treads: Umaru's footprints.We went up, emerging a few moments later on the roof of the building. More footprints showed clearly in the snow, leading to the edge.The ebb and flow of the storm had shifted to ebb; the heavy grey sky once again had an opalescence which extended our field of vision. A narrow gap opened at the back of the building, plunging down into an alley. The next building roof, flat also, could be reached by a short jump. I could see the trail of footprints continue on the far side.“I guess she didn't want to fight him with just a knife,” Marion opined. “Barefoot and in her nightie, even. Do we go?”I replied by slightly anchoring my footing and launching myself across the gap. My jarring arrival on the other side sent pain shooting across my back. In a moment Marion was beside me, her boots skidding slightly on the back roof's snow coating.“Reminds me of ragamuffining around the Quarter playing kick the can,” she breathed. “Of course I didn't have to deal with all this damn snow.”The tracks led around several chimney-crests to the side of the building, once again terminating at the edge. Looking over, I saw the sloped roof of a long shed below. The snow there had been disturbed in a slide, which could only have been precipitated by Grace and Umaru dropping down and glissading lower along the slanted surface. Marion and I did the same, gaining speed on the long slippery expanse to the point where we dropped over the lip at its edge without great control. We came down among piles of snow-covered refuse in another alley.Marion landed on her side and got up cursing. As I scrambled to my feet I saw that I was leaving blood drops in my wake. Bleeding in the snow again...Marion did not notice the blood. The tracks led further into the alley, where we had to surmount a wooden fence. Beyond that a more open street leading to a small square, from which more avenues branched like spikes.“Clear as a bell,” Marion said, pointing to the ongoing tracks. “So I'll praise the snow now, and the fact that no one's out and about at this hour to muddle us up.”I looked back – no sign yet of the five men from the Solon having also taken up the chase. But I had no doubt they would follow.The trail dodged along crooked streets, in and out of alleys. At no point did the two sets of prints separate. Had there been more snow or wind Grace might have had some hope of throwing off pursuit, but conditions were exactly wrong for her.Finally we came to a dead end, the way barred by a tall metal barrier of rusted wrought iron. Worked into the pattern of the iron was a row of crosses. Beyond, across a bleak expanse of flat ground, I saw tombstones and monuments.“Mistress Ruha mentioned a Cross Bones Cemetery,” Marion unhesitatingly raised a boot to an iron crossbar. “Looks to be the back side of it.”She climbed up and over. Now I was following her, and slowing down. I got over the iron fence only with difficulty, and on the other side sank to my knees briefly, struggling with dizziness.Marion had crossed the open ground edging the cemetery and passed along a row of headstones. Suddenly she shouted and dashed forward. “There they are!”I saw them too. Umaru had caught up to Grace in front of a mausoleum decorated with a crouching angel, its wings folded and coated with snow. She was struggling fiercely with her old antagonist, slashing at him with the blade she still carried.Umaru tried to control her, succeeding in taking hold of one of her arms, but Grace's knife-hand remained free. She jabbed at him, sinking the blade into his middle-body. This did not slow him at all. Grace pulled the knife free and swiped it at his throat, but he intercepted the blade in mid-arc, so she had both of her arms pinned.Marion, running, was getting close to them. I tried to run as well, stumbled, and struggled painfully back to my feet.Umaru half-spun with Grace in his grasp and flung her with terrible force against the side of the mausoleum. She sank down in the snow, the knife falling from her hand.The big man reached down, grabbed her hair, and vertically lifted her off her feet. He put his other hand around her throat.Marion, breathing hard, came to a stop right behind him. I was close enough to hear her speak.“Going to kill her? I bet you've waited a long time to get your hands on this one.”He glanced over his shoulder and down at Marion. “No. She belongs to Ruha.”“I really can't get over you talking so much.” As Umaru turned back to Grace, Marion pulled the pistol from her pocket, raised it to the base of his skull and fired. Blood sprayed outward, but Marion was not content with a single shot – she fired three more into his head a point blank range.He dropped Grace, who fell, blood-spattered, to the snow at his feet. Umaru toppled, collapsing right on top of her. With a gasping cry, she shoved him off.Marion, her legs braced slightly apart, shifted the aim of her pistol toward Grace. “I believe I could get to like guns. If I was counting right, I still have two bullets left.”Grace stared at her, the roving pupils of her eyes giving what was unquestionably the false impression of being dazed. I finally arrived at Marion's side.Grace, her black shift-dress crusted with snow, her bare feet bluish from the cold, found the knife where it had fallen and picked it up. She then spoke in a low, steady voice. “His head needs to come off.”I looked at the red ruin above Umaru's shoulders.Marion actually smiled. “Think he's going to pop up like a zombie? I tell you, you Archons remind me no end of my voodoo playfellows.”“I'm not an Archon.”“Right. You're the avenging whelp. But let's not get off on the wrong foot, Miss Grace. I can see why you'd enjoy removing his head, given the introduction I had to your dead husband. Go right ahead, if it pleases you.”Grace did not hesitate. Though she had only succeeded in inflicting superficial wounds on Umaru before Marion had interceded with her gun, the knife she held was clearly razor-sharp. She leaned forward, placed it hard against the man's neck, and it sank deep. When she encountered the resistance of Umaru's spine, she adjusted her position, braced her feet against his shoulders, took hold of his hair with his free hand, and pulled as she sawed downward.The grisly spectacle took about a minute. When the head finally came free, she held it up before her, staring into the glassy eyes with her chaotic ones. Then, while Marion and I stood watching, she kissed the dead lips, and placed the severed head down almost gently in the snow.I remembered Damaris' cryptic comments about the living absorbing sparks of primal identity from the dead, and I wondered if that kiss was less to a defeated adversary than to the shadow of a lost husband.“I'm figuring it's not long before the fellows who did for the Solon will be coming along the same trail we did,” Marion, practical as always, had no use for pondering Archon metaphysics. “We'd better settle our business quick.”Grace stood, and despite her appearance and the acts we had just witnessed, the dignity of her bearing could not be denied.I shouldered out of my coat and handed it to her. She accepted it, her face puzzled. “You two are Ruha's candidates for the Depuration.”“That was the original thought,” Marion replied.Her eyes widened somewhat then, seeing the broad bloodstain on the back of my coat. Grace followed her gaze and saw it too. Marion took a step closer to me and looked at my back.“Doctor, you're bleeding somewhat fearful.”“From my bullet?” Grace asked.I nodded.“I was shooting at Umaru. My vision makes me useless with a gun. I'm sorry, doctor. You were holding them at bay on my behalf. And you,” she looked at Marion, then the corpse of Umaru, “did this to him.”“Miss Grace, I don't know you from Eve, but I've got the strong impression that your mama has every intention of using me for a while, at the conclusion of which I'm more likely to be a dead mess like this boy than a happy semi-goddess with eternal life. I've also come to the conclusion that Dr. Wilder here wants nothing to with whatever shit she ultimately intends to pull.”“You've judged my mother well enough.”“Accepting that we're no saints – with the exception perhaps of Dr. Jim – I'm thinking at this point that being your ally might be more conducive to my goals than being Mistress Ruha's disposable fuck-and-kill puppet. I get the impression, despite what happened at the cathouse, that you still have a gang at your disposal?”“You could call it that.”“Then what if I told you exactly where their precious ritual is going to be happening? Think you and your cohorts might be inclined to drop in?”“I already know where it's going to take place.”“So you think. You've been flanked, Miss Grace. Your watchers followed doubles to a false destination. They're following them around again, right now. She used the ploy to spot you at your bordello-roost, and here we are. She's got a literal underworld that she calls Siniavis...that ring a bell for you? At this very moment she's recovering from two broken legs and a slit throat acquired in our little recent visit there. Her associates are a bit the worse for wear too. I'd call them ripe for the taking.”“You're crossing her? That's a very dangerous thing to do.”“I don't doubt it in the least. But like I said, I think our Mistress intends to chew me up and spit me out. I'm banking on the chance that you do right by people who join up with you. So I made you this.”Marion opened the front of her coat and reached inside the bodice of her dress. She withdrew a folded piece of paper, which she handed to Grace.“Drew it up while it was all fresh in my mind. There's a door to Siniavis in the basement of Mistress Ruha's house. She comes and goes under your nose. Now you're going to need to righteously assault her house to get there, but I'm guessing you have the will for that. Resistance won't be quite so stout with her boy here, dead...I haven't seen more than a few other servants around the place. Some have attitude...but then so do you. Come when the lady herself is attending her soiree with us in tow, and you should make short enough work of them.”Grace closed the paper in her fist. “And this wouldn't be an effort to draw me into a trap, would it?”“Missy, you were trapped right well five minutes ago, if I hadn't broken it up.”Listening, I was amazed at Marion's audacity. Her intent to pull the teeth right from the mouth of the Archon cult was absolutely self-interested, but had far more likelihood of success than my own earlier desire to place them all before conventional authorities. My own experience with Grace showed her to be ruthless and driven, but I felt too somehow that she would keep her word if given.“I figure I'll be naked and either fucking or killing someone when you show up,” Marion went on. “Just describe me well to your boys, so they don't slip up while they're chastising Archons. Now we have an immediate problem...a little clutch of piss-ant bully boys are likely to come climbing the Cross Bones fence in a minute or two. Were you just running scared when you ducked in here, or did you have some plan that will cross up their ability to follow your footprints just the way we did?”“The cemetery and the bordello had an arrangement,” Grace answered. “Periodically they would...visit the Solon with a horse-cart, to take away Archon servants when my women were finished with them. The horse is stabled very close – the warder will look the other way when I take it.”“Nice,” Marion nodded. “Go to, then. We'll be expecting you.” She spared a glance at Grace's bare feet. “You aren't going to fall down halfway there with frostbite, are you?”“I'm not an Archon, but just as resilient as one.”Grace took a last look at the bloody heap that had been Umaru, her pupils momentarily re-centering, giving her perhaps the most wistful expression I had seen on her face. Then she blinked, and her troubled eyes once again went askew. But her posture was all strength and determination as she put on my coat and disappeared behind the mausoleum with the crouching angel.Marion and I stood silent for a moment. The snowfall, beginning to increase again, sifted about us with soft whispers.Finally Marion gestured toward the corpse. “This,” she said, “might be a little thorny to explain.”“Give me your gun, then run back along our trail until you encounter Damaris' bravos. After I shot at them in the brothel, they won't have any trouble believing I'm the one who did this to him.”“You never disappoint, doctor.” Marion handed me the pistol.I swayed on my feet somewhat and she looked again at my bloody back, but made no comment. She left me, walking and then jogging back along the path of our footprints, until the curtain of falling snow swallowed her.I took a deep breath and watched the lacy caress of snowflakes settling on Umaru's body, some melting in the pools of his blood, before beginning to coat and obscure the vivid patterns of red.I felt no sense of righteous vengeance having come up out of the past.Then the snow was whirling, and I realized I had fallen onto my back only when I found myself looking up, blinking at white tatters that sought my eyes, before I closed them.