#may the paths meant for us brighten our current circumstances

[welcome2khaos]

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111 ~ may the paths unfold. blessings on the way

[fandom-space-princess]

The Game of Us

Rating: T (gen, no warnings)

Chapter 4: Lucifer

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? It’s over. I’d say you won, but I get the feeling we both lost, after all. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

Lucifer bends a leg up to curl arms around it, rests his chin on his knee. “I am very good at being alone, Michael.” Michael winces, but that curious flatness is back in Lucifer’s voice; the words, for all that they should be an accusation, hold only stale resignation. “Better than you know.”

Read below the cut, or on AO3

************************************

“Why are we here? Who are you, that you would ask this of us?”

The man—and he is a man, now, for all that his form remains indistinct at the edges—regards him critically. “You continue to plead ignorance on each of those points, but come now. We both know better.”

Michael says nothing, but his shoulders slump in resignation.

“I had hoped... well. It doesn’t matter.”

“Denial can protect you in some circumstances, spur you to action in others. It will do neither in this case, and you know that. Your Maker will not return for you, Mikha’el, not now and not ever. He was never the being you believed Him to be, but that is hardly your fault. Come to terms with it, and move forward. You have responsibilities to attend to.”

The man strides off, unwilling to slow his pace, and Michael plods after him. Each step is a challenge; the mass of disquiet and unease he carries feels more of a burden the farther he goes. He studies his feet as he walks. There is one thing he cannot deny now, at least: he is certain that he no longer looks like Chuck. Whatever image he does currently project, his benefactor has no commentary to make on the subject. His thoughts lie decidedly elsewhere.

“I am here to restore balance to reality,” he continues. “Nothing more, and nothing less. It is my sole and solemn role in this universe, and it is one I take quite seriously. Whatever your Father intended for His creation, your presence is required for that balance to hold—all four of you. Recent events have threatened irreversible catastrophe. I refuse to let this come to pass.”

He thinks of Raphael, immovable and still in their mourning. “All of us?”

The man waves his hand, dismissive. “Save your worrying for where it’s needful. The healer will come along in due time. We have—reached an accord.” He pauses. “Talking of needs, you still have one brother left to convince. Bit of a hard sell, I’m afraid you’ll find.”

His grace roils within him, but he feels the shape he wears begin to solidify. The space around him begins to brighten, bit by bit. “If I fail to convince him... what becomes of us? What will you do?”

The man fixes him with a stony look.

“What I always do. To wit: clean up the mess of those around me. Believe me, reinstating the four of you is by far my preferred option; a good deal more pleasant for all of us, all things considered. But if that option is unavailable to me, I will do what I must.”

The man smiles. He thinks the expression might be intended as gentleness. “I have the utmost faith in you. Appreciate what you are being given, First of Heaven. Take advantage of it to the fullest, while the opportunity is still available to you.” He shrugs, and motions for Michael to walk ahead without him.

“Not everyone is offered a second chance.”

************************************

The path under his feet may be constant, but around him reality ebbs and flows like the tide, hills and forest eddying away on the greater currents of night. He focuses only on the path, on keeping his feet under him; ignores the pull of psychic undertow that threatens to drag him down.

I am not like my Father, he thinks as he walks. It stings. He feels carefully around the edges of the thought, tries to grasp it again. I am not my Father’s creature. That one hurts too. I am not the son He wanted me to be.

The light surrounding Michael continues to brighten, a dim but insistent glow.

He was not the Father I thought I had .

That one hurts worst of all.

What am I, if not the son to the Father I thought I knew? What is my purpose, if I do not serve?

Without noticing, he has begun to climb. The path winds slowly up, toward the peak of a hillside overlooking the expanse of the sea. It is only when he crests the hill and comes face-to-face with a low stone wall that he realizes what this place is meant to be.

It has been millennia since he last gave thought to the Oracle of the Dead.

He runs his hands across the memory of stone, worn smooth by time in some places, pitted in others by the salt-sea air. Twenty paces along the perimeter of the wall, and a gap in the earth yawns open before him. Rough-hewn steps lead downward to a shadowed door. He thinks of the gate to the Cage, and shudders.

He has come this far. For his brothers, for himself—he can do this.

Michael descends, and the ground closes in around him.

************************************

Though he has never set foot in this place corporeally, knowledge is a map etched into his grace. An antechamber, high and vaulted, stands between himself and the temple’s ceremonial gates. Through these, human mourners and congregants would have passed to seek communion with their dead. A labyrinthine warren of lesser tunnels spreads out from this point as well. Passages to more intimate chambers in which those same seekers would have made preparation: catechesis from holy priests and cleansing by water and by more esoteric means. They would have walked their own paths to this destination, he thinks. They would have made sacrifices.

His own path will have to serve as purification enough. Inhaling deeply, he passes under the first gate. As he does so, the light surrounding him brightens.

There is no denying the source of that light, now.

Beyond the first gate, the way descends again, switchback tunnels with secrets hovering just beyond his grasp around each corner. And yet, he feels as though he’s gaining ground: for every step nearer his destination, his will is becoming more focused, achieving something like surety. He can feel it in the settling of his grace, in the resolution of the image he is now all but certain he projects.

At the second gate, he hears the distant rumble of water. The way beyond is flat, and straight. Five hundred feet on, the third gate looms.

Shadows flicker around him, though the torches set into the dusty walls have long since forgotten flame.

As he draws near the final threshold, he sees them, out of the corners of his eyes. He’d had few enough occasions to manifest them during his brief time on Earth, but now he cannot seem to do anything else.

The trailing edges of his wings, pulled tight to his shoulders, brush the walls of the tunnel. They’re glowing, what of them he is able to see, casting light in this darkest of places.

The light is like...

Michael shivers.

Like the dawn.

************************************

The final gate opens, not onto any chamber carved by the hands of man, but a natural grotto, rock worn away over the span of centuries. The river pours through a crack in the ground far above. Its name whispers in his mind, hallowed and ancient: Acheron. It spills forty feet through open air before spending its energy in a churning subterranean pool. Light from his wings refracts through the waterfall, dancing and shimmering across the walls.

Then again... not solely from his wings.

The figure seated at the foot of the waterfall stares into it, and does not look up as he approaches.

“Why are you here?” Lucifer asks. The words come out flat, oddly empty. As though it were not truly a question he cared to hear the answer for. “What could possibly bring our Father’s favorite son to the edge of the river of woe?”

Michael walks past him, circling the edge of his field of vision. He feels the moment Lucifer turns to lay eyes on him for the first time. Senses the hard edge of immediacy his focus gains.

At least he has his attention. He sighs. For all that he knows what to do with it.

He seats himself at the edge of the pool, extending one unshod foot out to dangle over the water. Studies his reflection, looking back up at him. Everything about the face he wears is sharp: high carved cheekbones and ice-chip eyes, blond curls smooth as cut diamond. He glows brightly, now, as though he has swallowed the sun; a luminescence that overflows, spilling out across skin and wings and pulsing a song of home holy bright pure home home home.

The Lightbringer’s first form had always been radiant.

His reflection is abruptly joined by its double in the water. Lucifer settles next to him, staring openly.

“You mock me.”

Michael grimaces. “I don’t. This place... if there is any mocking to be done, I’m a far worthier target than you are.” Lucifer reaches out to him, caution and curiosity warring across his face. With the tips of his fingers at Michael’s jaw, he turns his head. Examines his duplicate with narrowed eyes. After a moment, he draws back, and his gaze returns to the waterfall.

A glint of metal catches his eye, and Michael flinches. Thick golden manacles encircle Lucifer’s wrists. He can’t believe he has failed to noticed them until now. Though his brother seems undisturbed by them, Michael knows how heavy they must be.

“You still haven’t answered my question. What are you doing here? It’s over. I’d say you won, but I get the feeling we both lost, after all. Isn’t that enough? Can’t you leave me in peace?”

“Is this peace?” Michael asks quietly. “What you have here?”

Lucifer bends a leg up to curl arms around it, rests his chin on his knee. “I am very good at being alone, Michael.” Michael winces, but that curious flatness is back in Lucifer’s voice; the words, for all that they should be an accusation, hold only stale resignation. “Better than you know.”

For several long moments, the only sound is the crash of the water.

“I was told to come to you,” he ventures finally. Lucifer’s gaze snaps to him, and Michael fights a sudden impulse to squirm under it.

“By whom?”

Michael shakes his head sadly. “Not... not Him.”

The spark in Lucifer’s eyes fades as rapidly as it had appeared. He tilts his head and squints, as though listening to a conversation just at the edge of hearing. A blink, then he scowls. “Ah. Him, then. What does he want? I’m dead. So far as he should be concerned, his job is complete. Can’t get much deader.”

“We’ve been tasked to return to the world. Our Father no longer orders the universe. Without us, reality stands to fall to ruin. I was commanded to bring you back with me.”

Lucifer stares at him, wide-eyed and incredulous. Then he tips his head back, a bark of laughter tearing free from his throat.

“You—you honestly think I’ll come with you. Why, exactly? An overabundance of goodwill? A sense of camaraderie? Family? You took a few too many blows to the head in life, O Best-Beloved Son. What has reality been for me but pain?”

His grin is serene, beautiful, and all the more vicious for it.

”The world can burn.”

He turns away. Glides languidly to the lip of the pool, and extends an arm to let the mist from the waterfall dance across his fingers.

“I don’t think it is peace I have here.” Water runs down his hand, collects over the metal at his wrist. He watches it bead and fall, a slow and steady drip. “But at least I have certainty. You know, I never really let myself believe that it would play out like this? I should have understood you better, but I always...” He glances back at Michael, then shakes his head. “... you were always His, at the expense of everything else. Everyone else. That’s all He made you to be.”

The air between them is stretched taut, tense and fraying. Michael feels it in his bones, the ease with which he could snap it.

Instead, he stands, and paces to Lucifer’s side. Lays a hand on his shoulder.

“I’m sorry."

Lucifer tenses under his touch.

“You aren’t,” he spits. “You’re desperate, and you’re serving a master. Just like you’ve always done.” He turns abruptly to face Michael, all cold and sudden fury, and grasps his wrist.

“I am,” Michael says. He lets the remorse resonate in his voice, and knows Lucifer hears it when he snarls in return.

“Too little, too late, Mike. All I’ve ever been is the means to someone else’s end.” He shoves Michael back a step. “The universe needs me so much? Well, good riddance to the universe. Nothing Dad made is worth saving. Nothing.”

His wrath is incandescent, a blaze of grace through the air around them. He advances on Michael; poised to do what, Michael isn’t sure. Lucifer raises a hand, as though to strike him, or push him away again? And—

Michael sinks to his knees before him, and bows his head. It startles Lucifer into stillness.

“You are.”

"What? "

“You are,” Michael repeats, barely a whisper. “Worth saving. Gabriel is, and Raphael is, and you are. And if you don’t agree...” His breath hitches, and his eyes clench shut. “Then I won’t fight you. I haven’t earned the right, and I know that. But I’m not leaving here, either. If everything ends, then it ends.” He inhales deeply. “But I won’t let you stay here and burn out of existence alone.”

In the space between heartbeats that follows, the silence is absolute. Even the sound of the water vanishes. Michael opens his eyes, and dares to peer up at Lucifer.

His face is blank with shock.

“You don’t mean that,” he grits out, but the conviction has gone out of it.

“I do.”

He drops to the ground beside Michael, head falling into his hands. Cautiously, a millimeter at a time, Michael extends a wing. Until, at last, it drapes across Lucifer’s shoulders.

“Come with me,” Michael asks. “Please. Gabriel and Raphael are already waiting. We can move forward. Become something new, something beyond Him. Together.”

From behind his hands Lucifer chokes on a laugh that transforms partway through into something more closely resembling a sob. “How?” he asks. Michael hears the rest of the thought, unspoken but weighty: how can we leave this behind? How do I move forward?

Gently, he tugs Lucifer’s hands from his face. Takes them in his own.

“Drink from the river.”

Lucifer’s gaze flashes to the waterfall, and the corner of his mouth quirks in what might be amusement, voice thick with emotion. “Cleanse myself like the humans did, huh? ‘Flectere si nequeo superos, Acheronta movebo.’ I have to admit it has... style.” He chuckles.

Michael smiles back at him. “Nothing about this is what I expected it to be. Least of all our benefactor’s sense of humor.”

They pull each other to their feet, and Lucifer turns to face the river.

“Better than the last time I interacted with him. Guess that’s an apology I owe. Though I suppose I’ll be seeing him soon enough.” He steps forward, then looks back at Michael. “Hey, Mike?”

“Yes?”

“Not that this isn’t a good look on you—” A broad, sweeping gesture indicates Michael’s still-radiant form, identical to his own. “But I hope you can find something that suits you better. He can’t define you any more, no more than He can define me. Even by virtue of opposition.” He extends both hands out into the waterfall, water trickling down his arms as before. This time, when it makes contact with the golden metal at his wrists, the manacles dissolve away, mist into mist.

He watches them go, an unreadable expression on his face.

“We both deserve to be more than that.”

He dips his head to his cupped hands, and drinks.

************************************

(Chapter notes:

- Latin from the Aeneid. “If I cannot bend the will of Heaven, I shall move Hell.” Acheronta in the case of the original quote being Virgil’s colloquialism for the underworld as a whole, in addition to the name of the river.

- The setting here is very, very loosely based on descriptions of the Nekromanteion of Acheron. The original purpose of the temple was the practice of necromancy, and to pay tribute to Hades and Persephone. People would come to the temple to cleanse themselves before seeking to speak with the dead. As a place to reinvent yourself so completely that you end up literally reincarnated, it seemed fitting :) )

[ladyfawkes]

A Murder of Snows by LadyFawkes Chapter 2/5 - The Toboggan Incident Current word count: 4278 Story Summary:

Cassandra teases Eugene one too many times about his dislike for snow. Rapunzel’s since been made aware of what the main reason is but she doesn’t know many others that Eugene has yet to divulge. He gives at least 5 examples that include reasons for him to loathe these tiny ice crystals. Each story is successively worse than the previous one.

Chapter Two: The Toboggan Incident

One winter some time after Eugene and his friend Arnie had left the orphanage, the pair were trudging along on a comparably nice-ish day. It had snowed an awful lot the prior weekend, but that day, the sun was shining bright. The air wasn’t frigid and as such, Arnie and Eugene each got a bit stir crazy inside their little warm cave setup in the mountainside. Arnie and Eugene were originally going to head into town when they caught sight of a small child struggling with a toboggan. The little girl had been on the mountain a few times over the past several weeks, ever since she’d received the shiny new toboggan at Christmas.

Eugene and Arnie had originally watched and envied the child because of her family and warm home. But they also knew the other local children made fun of her too. This little girl actually walked with a pronounced limp and all of the others refused to play with her based on that one thing alone. Even her elder brother who was supposed to be watching over her, making sure she wouldn’t fall over or injure herself, would often go off with friends his age rather than minding his younger sister. He typically abandoned her to play alone.

And though he couldn’t explain why, Eugene felt….an obligation to watch over this little brunette whenever her brother would ditch her, so she wouldn’t be left alone on the mountain. Arnie wasn’t so sure….at times young Arnie and Eugene marveled at the cruelty of children, no matter their living circumstances.

After about the third time the girl’s brother ditched her, she had spotted Eugene and Arnie in the trees, watching her. The boys fully expected her to yell at them, to chase them off. Even though they wouldn’t dream of bothering her, she hadn’t known that.

“Hulloooo!!” the girl raised a mittened hand, waving grandly as she could with her feet nearly stuck tight in the fresh powder. “I’m Chelsea! What are your names?” Eugene and Arnie momentarily stared at each other in shock. Townie children were typically encouraged by their parents and others to ignore “street urchins” like Arnie and Eugene. It was a minor miracle that this girl was speaking with them so freely.

“Uh, I’m….Flynn?” said Eugene, giving an alias just in case. “And I’m Lance!” replied Arnie, waving his own arm. The pair continued to watch Chelsea for a few more moments.

“Hey, erm, are you stuck in the snow? Did you need some help climbing out?” asked Eugene as he slowly made his way down the slope. The snow slid easily and sections of it would cascade like shiny bits of frozen sand with each step he took. Chelsea held up her arms and looked down at her lower body, now hip-deep in the white powder.

The girl held up her arms and looked down helplessly at her trapped lower body and shrugged in consternation at her predicament. “Yes, please!!”

“C’mere and hold onto the toboggan, Lance,” said Eugene. At that, Arnie made his way down the mountain in Eugene’s trail. Then Arnie stood off to one side and steadied the sled as Eugene instructed Chelsea to grab the line attached to the toboggan and hold tight so it could help tow her out. Then Eugene reached down in the white powder and unstuck one of Chelsea’s feet and then the other, until the little girl was very sloooowly sliding downhill again, this time on her belly and elbows against the toboggan, with her freshly unstuck feet flailing happily behind her as she laughed.

Arnie and Eugene met the girl at the bottom of the slope and Chelsea stood up to her full still-tiny height and unhesitatingly threw her arms around Eugene.

“Oh, thank you, Lance and Flynn!” she said, her voice wavering. “My big brother Joshua is supposed to be minding me buuuuut he would rather be with his own older friends,” sniffled Chelsea. “I guess I can’t blame him. I am an annoying little tagalong. Mum is busy inside with the babies.” Eugene’s face bunched up in a scowl.

“If you were my little sister, I’d never leave you out here alone,” he vowed. “Yeah,” agreed Arnie, “we know too well what dangers can lay in wait up here on the mountain.”

Unhesitatingly, Chelsea brightened up and invited them to stay and play with her that day, working out a way to exchange towing and other similar services for downhill rides on her new toboggan. After an awkward pause, she could tell they were about to turn her down…..when she instead asked them to wait. She limped across the base of the mountain and into a warm-looking cottage a few hundred yards away.

After a few minutes, a plump sweet-looking woman followed Chelsea out the back door. “Mama, this is Flynn and Lance,” she began, “and they helped me out of the snow after Joshua left me alone. I’m sure I would’ve frozen to death!” she held a hand to her forehead dramatically.

Chelsea’s mother took one look at the boys in their worn-out coats, gloves with holes in the fingers, and ground down shoes. They had much more snow caked on all over in places where there shouldn’t be any….yet they hadn’t the proper gear to keep out the snow. The pair felt a bit embarrassed by her scrutiny.

“Thank you for helping Chelsea,” the girl’s mother said seriously. “Any particular reason why you stopped for her?” she quizzed.

Eugene looked at her in confusion. “We were on the mountain. Saw that she was stuck and clearly needed help. We asked, Chelsea said yes, and so we helped her,” he shrugged and said simply.

“So no thought of reward?” asked Chelsea’s mother.

“‘Reward’, ma’am?” Eugene echoed. “We’re only here at Chelsea’s request.” And the little girl nodded rapidly in confirmation.

“I see,” the woman replied, her countenance suddenly brightening considerably. “I’m Mrs. Thurgood. Do you boys know how to start a fire?”

“Uhh….y-yes? Ma’am?” said Eugene, wondering if this was a trick question.

“Then would you do us the very great honor of starting a fire in the outside stove?” She pointed behind and to their right toward a stand-alone brick hearth with a chimney a ways out from the home. “Everything you need -- flint, kindling -- is out there in that wood chest.” Arnie and Eugene proceeded to get a nice roaring fire started and were thawing out when Chelsea came back out of the cottage and said, “I knew she would like you!” Eugene and Arnie were accustomed to being hated and ran off upon first meeting much of the time.

Mrs. Thurgood returned outside, this time with a rather large bundle of winter clothing. “So long as you boys agree to mindin’ my Chelsea today, she says you may share her toboggan and I’ll let you keep this winter gear. Some of the gloves and mittens are missing their mates but if you both can find any items that fit you, you’re welcome to them. Mittens, gloves, mufflers, coats, and boots!”

Eugene and Arnie stared at one another in shock. “Ma’am, we didn’t do this for any reward.”

“Aye, Flynn, is it?” Eugene nodded. “You didn’t seek any reward so that’s why you’re getting one. Besides, these are castoffs, anyway; thus you’re helping me doubly -- this time by decluttering my home.” And the auburn-haired woman winked at them.

The two boys gaped at one another in awe after Mrs. Thurgood turned around to head back inside and Eugene dove for the pile of winter goods. Eugene and Arnie each found a handsome coat and hat. Although most children complained about wearing mufflers, these boys already appreciated just how warm they could be when properly worn.

Turns out that Mrs. Thurgood’s husband was a commissioned officer away at war. Joshua, a teen, could not be disciplined very well without his father around, especially when Mrs. Thurgood had to mind three other children under five years old. She paid the boys in meals and other perks for minding Chelsea and performing simple odd jobs outside while Mr. Thurgood was away. Mrs. Thurgood was such a kind gem, so unlike the other townie women. He and Arnie agreed they would never steal anything from Mrs. Thurgood.

A few weeks after Arnie and Eugene first rescued Chelsea, when the elder boy Joshua had time to stew over the fact that a couple of orphan children were effectively taking his place at home, thereby making him look bad and getting rewarded for it…..

On this clear day, after the weekend of blizzards, Chelsea wasn’t able to go outside with them. But Mrs. Thurgood was just fine with them borrowing and taking turns with the girl’s toboggan for the day, provided they returned it when they were finished. As such, that meant the boys were traipsing further up the mountain that day for longer sled runs. About an hour into their sledding, Eugene and Arnie had set up for another ride down the hill when they heard a whole bunch of shouting above them on the mountain.

Then they heard what seemed like a slipping-whoosh noise, followed by a deep rumbling.

“It sounds like thunder,” Arnie said, while the boys looked up into a crisp blue sky. Not a storm cloud -- nor any cloud, really -- in sight.

Then they heard some super-loud snapping and cracking sounds as the rumbling grew even louder. Finally, they looked upwards of themselves on the slope and they figured out what it was. A thick 10-ft rolling wall of snow came barreling down the mountain and swept away everything in its path. At the last second, in desperation, they turned the toboggan to face up-slope, and turned it upside down while attempting to shield themselves with it against the coming onslaught.

Poor Eugene and Arnie didn’t stand a chance. ~~~~~~~~~~~~((0))~~~~~~~~~~~~~

“Wait, what?” Cassandra blinked in confusion. “How ever did you and Lance escape the avalanche??”

Again, Eugene nursed his hot cocoa, sipping strategically. “We didn’t,” he answered meaningfully, shrugging off her prying. [Slurrrrp.]

Cass glanced over at Rapunzel; the curly-haired woman threw her hands in the air in exasperation. Rapunzel, who knew that all she had to do was find the correct question, instead asked Eugene, “What happened post-avalanche? Certainly someone dug you out -- you’re sitting here with us now, after all,” the princess reasoned.

“That part I really couldn’t tell you,” Eugene replied. He kissed the back of Rapunzel’s hand. “But let’s see…..I remember cowering under the sled with Lance….and the horrendous thundering noise, the trees snapping like giant matchsticks, being engulfed and tumbling ass-over-teacups in a giant wave of snow.” He wasn’t expecting it, but a chill passed through Eugene as he shuddered at the memory. Briefly, he fell into reverie.

Cassandra wordlessly stood up to take Eugene’s empty mug from him, and surprised everyone by returning it to him with a refill. “Thanks,” he said quietly.

He accepted it from Cassandra gratefully, took a sip….and it helped Eugene far more than he thought it would. “The next thing I knew,” he continued his story, “I woke up in a warm bed with Mrs. Thurgood hovering over me. My left forearm was broken and splinted and I’d been knocked out and unconscious for the previous three days, apparently. The theory was that the toboggan probably smacked me on the arm and maybe side of the head during our tumble. I had a humdinger of a laceration in my scalp that required 20 stitches. Lance’s foot had caught a tree trunk on the way down the mountain and he got laid up too.”

“Whoa,” Rapunzel whispered. “So….do you…..do you have any idea what caused that avalanche?” she inquired timorously.

At that, Eugene’s expression darkened immediately from slightly sullen to downright pissed off. “Oh, we know exactly who caused it and why they did it,” he growled.

Cassandra was still in her rather relentless “poke the bear” mode of curiosity and thus kept egging him on. Though she wasn’t that great with emotions, instinct told her that she was doing the right thing by carefully encouraging Eugene to spill the tea with Rapunzel’s assurances.

“Do tell,” Cass spoke up, “is it anyone I know personally who caused it? If so, whose ass do I need to kick next week when we’re back in Corona?” She punched a fist into her palm.

Eugene’s eyebrows shot up in genuine surprise.

“What?” Cass asked after an awkward pause. “Nobody can mess with you but me,” she simply shrugged, cocking a hip and folding her arms in defiance.

Eugene’s eyes darted downward and he unsuccessfully smothered a grin with a hand that flew up to cover his mouth. He wasn’t accustomed to anyone being actively protective of him except for Rapunzel. Especially not over something that happened to him around 15 years ago…

He sighed, this time without rancor. “Remember Chelsea’s elder brother, Joshua?” Eugene asked as both women nodded. “Turns out he and a few of his best buddies were out to teach Lance and I a lesson for ‘messing with his family’, i.e. actually being responsible, minding Chelsea, and doing odd jobs for Mrs. Thurgood. So ol’ Joshie and his buddies decided that since we’d be flying solo without Chelsea that day, it’d be the perfect opportunity to bury their competition. Literally.”

Rapunzel and Cassandra gaped openly at him, this latest news was what they considered most shocking of all.

“.....what?” Eugene asked quietly, suddenly finding himself massively self-conscious due to their scrutiny. “As a kid on the streets, you get used to unmitigated hate from practically everyone,” he half-shrugged. Cass looked Eugene hard in the eye. On the flip side, Rapunzel’s eyes looked shiny with tears. She beckoned her beloved to switch from his place on the poufy chair and snuggle with her on the poufy loveseat instead.

Otherwise Eugene had just emigrated from the No. 1 Spot to the No. 2 Spot in the place. He was still good…..really, really good, especially with Rapunzel slipping her arm behind his back, somewhere between his shirt and his doublet. Then she leaned right in against him and with both her arms snaked around his waist, Rapunzel smooshed up against him that much closer by hooking her thumbs through the opposite sides of Eugene’s belt loop. Typically, that would be a nookie signal from her...but at this time….as she took turns stroking his arm and hooking her thumb through his belt loop….he could sense that she felt bad for him.

Eugene glanced up again at Cassandra, who by now had raised her booted foot upon an ottoman and was sipping her own hot cocoa, studying him with renewed scrutiny.

And although Eugene usually liked a lot of attention, his goal was to be admired through said attention -- not pitied. If there was even a hint of pity, it made him squirm. His hands subconsciously balled into fists. Rapunzel’s head lifted off his chest and she said, “Your heart sped up. What is it?”

Eugene clamped his jaw tight shut for a few seconds before blurting, “Okay, see this? The way you two are looking at me, right now….” The two girls tried to share a glance without his noticing.

“What way?” asked Rapunzel innocently. “What look?” demanded Cass simultaneously with forced nonchalance.

Eugene groaned and his face fell into his hands. Out of the blue, Cassandra asked, “When was the last time you talked about your past this way?”

“Lessee,” Eugene took his head out of his hands using a finger to tap his lip and pretended to consider. “Uhm, approximately never,” he answered forcefully, his arms folding stoutly in front of himself, as if he were directly challenging her .

“Easy, whoa, Fitzcowboy,” said Cassandra as she cautiously held out her hands in front of herself. “I’m not trying to provoke you. It was an honest question.”

“No wonder this is so hard for you,” Rapunzel said, “if you’ve never told anyone about this stuff before.” She kissed his upper arm and nuzzled into it.

“I...guess I never thought about it before,” Eugene replied softly, his face dropping into his hands. “I just don’t want anybody to pity me. I can’t stand pity.” Cassandra and Rapunzel exchanged a look of incredulity. Cass urged Rapunzel to keep Eugene talking.

Rapunzel reached up and touched Eugene’s cheek. “Is that why you stopped mentioning most of your past? It was after Cass first started mocking you, wasn't it?” Eugene pressed his lips together and stayed silent while further burying his face in his hands; Cassandra swallowed hard, visibly sank ,and looked sideways toward the floor under Rapunzel’s careful gaze.

“I…..I suppose I might have misjudged you, as a person….” glancing back at Rapunzel out of the corner of her eye, the blonde woman egged her on. Cass clenched her jaw and mumbled, “....even more harshly than I originally thought.”

A very stunned Eugene slowly came out from behind his hands to stare at Cassandra. She was studiously trying (and failing) to ignore his own gaze. Again, Rapunzel urged Cass to just….spill the tea already.

“The past few weeks, Fitzherbert, you’ve made it increasingly difficult for me to find reasons to despise you. First, you haul off in the middle of a cursed blizzard to rescue the King and Queen. Second, even though you and the other guys were waiting for Rapunzel’s blessing to go, something tells me that you would’ve found a way to leave anyway, had she refused you. Third….just these past two stories of yours alone let me know you’ve got every reason to loathe snow; yet just weeks ago, you hauled off in a blizzard, were hit by an avalanche, and fell off a mountain, all in one trip. And yet fourth -- here you are with us in the mountains during winter.” Finally, Cassandra paused and said, “I don’t know that I could personally keep subjecting myself to what amounts to my own worst fear at such a level.”

For a few seconds, Eugene studied the dark-haired young woman. The past several minutes, she’d spoken more kindly to him than she had during the prior several months since they’d met combined. He wasn’t quite sure what to make of it all. Good thing Rapunzel knew.

“Would you two just call a truce, already??” Rapunzel demanded impatiently, causing both Eugene and Cassandra to grin warmly, and glance away from each other self-consciously in spite of themselves.

“How can we possibly say no to that?” Eugene shrugged. “Search me,” Cass replied, as she walked across the room. She and Eugene shared the secret truce handshake that Rapunzel had taught them at the beginning of their friendship.

“I suppose that means it’s time for story No. 3,” continued Eugene. “This time, we’re back at the orphanage….”

[egan28egan-blog]

9 Healthy and balanced Set Cooking Recipes.

. Ingenious advertising ... I was shocked to locate a quite healthy diet plan opposed to the fad diet I presumed that would be actually. Diet regimens high in calcium off dairy have actually been presented to help with weight management by aiding you absorb less as well as burn even more fat. While I agree that this may be actually a good idea for some people, to me, the percentage of fat burning entailed really isn't adequate to have yet another pill. When I shed my body weight you finest feel I am going to really love every bit of my body system, supported it, reveal it off and also brag on all my hard work. I have actually been actually maintaining a diet journal for a very long time and also that truly is a mental release. Having actually fallen my weight on 5:2 diet I have actually now switched over to 6:1 diet as well as find I can easily still keep my target body weight array as my general consuming routines have currently changed. I'm done in favour from enlightening individuals not just on what a healthy and balanced diet resembles, yet likewise ways to prepare well-balanced food items. As well as many studies have actually revealed that these diet plans have actually prospered in lowering a number of the threat variables for cardiovascular disease as well as diabetic issues. If you carry out experience hypoglycemia, discuss control alternatives along with your doctor: downward medicine change, shifting dish amounts or even opportunities, adjustment from workout schedule, consuming additional carbohydrates, and so on So I WAGER that the people who buy the tea are actually additionally a lot more aware of just what they consume as well as just how they exercise because they do not want to squander their loan or even their time. Loads from investigation recently along with human beings and fMRIs, therefore practical magnetic resonance image resolution, has really focused on offering meals cues to people as well as looking at exactly how the mind reacts to this kind of meals. Although this is actually certainly not possible to attempt the tapeworm diet in many countries, this is actually being delivered at some places in Mexico. This added sugar can create blood glucose level spikes, weight increase and can leave you really feeling hungry. Other normal examinations include blood pressure, cholesterol levels, kidney functionality as well as body weight. Through all suggests these diets are good for effective weight loss but need to not be actually a way of life. One complete providing of 18Shake possesses an all-around nutritional account to avoid food cravings, build slim muscle mass, and help supply actual fat loss perks. Flat Stomach Tea possesses a sturdy social media presence, and also it does have organic substances in their tea blends. I reviewed Dr. Fung's analysis of this research study yesterday and also began to stress that I was doomed to obtain back all the weight I had actually lost. Nevertheless, this's likewise true to mention there are plenty out there who have actually succeeded at long-lasting effective weight loss. Leah Brennan: In regards to fads in the literature, if you are actually doing an even more comprehensive treatment with additional help from wellness experts as well as off others in a similar circumstance or from friends and family you are actually more likely to become capable to receive your weight reduction attempts. State you're a person that's presently met his best body weight and definitely would like to pay attention to muscle building.

Some of the workout sessions point out to repeat X4 yet I haven't been carrying out that considering that I presumed that was actually just for folks who do the PIIT challenge. That is actually time to cure your relationship to food items and your body, and also find all the confidence you need to have to reside the lifestyle that is truly meant for you ( spoiler notification: that involves A TON OF happiness). I assume being quite insulin resistant, a minimum of in my scenario, was the main reason my weight reduction was actually slow in the beginning. There have actually additionally been actually Get More Information perks found in consumers, coming from long status cravings reductions to weight management. When I found Blogilates as well as just how beautiful and also self-assured Cassey was actually, I took place her internet site and located a clean eating 90 day food plan for FREE! So individuals that were white as well as dark thinkers and didn't attain their weight target were most likely to back out and also state properly I can not arrive I may at the same time certainly not trouble in any way. The 17 Day Diet plan includes readjusting your intake from carbohydrates, body fat, healthy protein and also fats over a series of 17-day cycles, which may have the impact from improving metabolic process as well as protecting against the plateaus that prevail with the majority of diets. The largest one in our weight reduction community is actually that our company usually opt for low calorie versions that just make our team need additional from all of them as our company want to get back exactly what our company have shed. Hi there ethicalbarrier, I am actually thus fed up these diet regimens - basically an even more grew Atkins diet plan, although Atkins has actually arrived a very long way. That has actually been an eye opener as well as useful support system for instruction my choices in meals to assist my slimming down (21 pounds considering that 1/1/11) as well as learning to make knowledgeable options to preserve my weight once I come to where I intend to be actually. Because of higher degrees from the hormone ghrelin, scientists at the College of Chicago discovered that rest starvation can impede fatty tissue reduction as well as that it likewise led individuals to experience hungrier. As you examine how you can easily reside better, check out some of the best preferred diet plans today. When I to begin with began this experience, I produced it a mission to attempt a new meals whenever I headed to the shop. He points out individuals in the surgical procedure group had lower levels from particles called limb chain amino acids, which are understood to become linked with insulin resistance. Growing I believe I most likely experienced quite a few of the different behaviors linked with food. I acquire so frustrated when folks report on exactly how food items illuminate the very same nerve organs pathways as medicines ... I'm absolutely no, that's the other way around: medicines brighten the neural paths of meals. I bet this is actually a concern (a trouble?) with several, or even most, quite low-carb diet plans if supplements typically aren't made use of. The complication with these (accident) diet regimens is actually that people usually ignore actually changing they means they take a look at food items. Thirty Minutes to an Hour a time from keeping up 48 hr weight lifting periods is actually crucial. Food preparation has actually been actually a significant finances saving idea for our company. Organizing the meals for the week and staying with that spares money and time. While some people trying to reduce weight may make use of those options just before paying for a weight loss solution, field expert John LaRosa believes they possess little bit of impact on the general excellence from bigger weight-loss providers. I assumed that a mini series of messages about this will be very practical for you all considering that you fellas wonder concerning that as well as since I think that is actually the most underutilized part from the Body weight Watchers system. Leah Brennan: Our experts don't know quite regarding why that is that folks do not finish a weight loss assistance. This was terrible for me. This had me along time to understand that my diet plan was so crucial for my skin layer as well as my health. As well as losing weight on the scales doesn't always equate to weight loss which is actually essentially the objective. It's certainly not achievable to customize your strategy during the ordering procedure due to the fact that of the intricacy and also extensively differing choices available.

[kusunogatari-a]

[ Northbound ] [ @yukaikokoro ] [ Hatake Kakashi, Suigin Ryū, Kottakawa Kumiko ] [ Verse: Divine Light ]

Hearing that they’re headed back to the frigid north brings about two feelings in Kakashi. One being elation: he hasn’t been able to see Kumiko in person for weeks. Obito’s proposed portal system is still in the works, and other ‘points of interest’ they want to connect are still debating whether or not to enact the passages. Frustrating, but...one can’t rush politics.

The other is dread.

While it’s true the most current chosen disciple of Glaciris is doing her best to make change...the ice and snow of the north are slow to thaw. The soil isn’t the only thing that remains frozen. He already got a taste of northern ‘hospitality’ during their journey to find the stolen lux mage that now makes her way up of her own volition. Kakashi has to admit, he’s not eager to experience it again.

But, the former point outweighs the latter...or, a least he hopes it will.

This time around, it’s just the pair of them traveling. And despite Ryū’s suggestion that Suigin take them, the berech refuses. One flight on Raziya was enough to tell him he’s really not fond of flying. So, the pair of them take tamer mounts: that being their horses. Kakashi’s bay gelding keeps stride with Ryū’s dappled grey mare, the pair of them keeping hoods over their heads. Thankfully the weather has held - it’s cold, and a little windy, but a far cry from the blizzard he and Kumiko endured.

The roads are largely empty - they take the main path this time, and trade caravans stick largely to another route. Given how few travelers the north gets, they encounter almost no one...and most that they do are leaving.

“It would seem little has changed these past weeks,” his charge notes quietly.

“Winter never does like to give way to Spring.”

By afternoon they finally reach the capital city gates. Pale stone forms the bulk of the architecture, rounded to best let the frigid winds slip between structures. Banners flutter stiffly in the wind, too frozen to properly ripple. People dressed in furs and thick textiles give them curious glances...and a few seem to glower.

Neither of them pay their hosts any mind - it’s not these people they’ve come to see, after all. Instead, the pair make their way through the city toward the northernmost point, where the robust Glacirian castle stands. Unlike Meridiem, what with its reaching spires and parapets, Boralis’ royal quarters are more grounded: two stories at its tallest, sprawling to cover more ground rather than go skyward.

They stop at yet another gate, guards demanding their documentation. It’s something Kakashi finds ridiculous: how many lux mages are there, and how many berech with mismatched eyes? But he doesn’t voice his disdain, instead going through quietly as they’re given leave.

They’re met at the door by another set of guards, their mounts led to the stables as they make their way inside. The snow-like stone only echoes the cold atmosphere of the place, decorations made mostly in deep blues and silvers. Kakashi can’t help but note there’s an unnerving amount of armed personnel. Likely something Kumiko’s father ordered - some kind of display of might, if he had to guess.

Ryū makes no note of it, passing them by without a glance. Thankfully it’s not a long walk to the main hall, and they come upon Kumiko speaking with what looks to be a captain. As Kakashi suspected, her hardened expression and terse tone seem to hint that she’s unhappy with the situation, but she turns to them at the sound of approaching footsteps. A forced smile brightens her features.

“It seems our guests have survived the frozen wilds!” she greets, and Kakashi can’t help a perk of his brow at her falsely-cheer lilt. “I’m sure you’re weary - we’ll retreat to my study for the time being.”

The other pair exchange a subtle glance before nodding. Silence reigns until Kumiko shuts a heavy door behind them. Immediately, all pretense of her expression fades to a scowl.

“Have I no control over my own staff?” she growls, striding tersely across the room to sit at her desk, a hand gesturing curtly for them to take their seats. “I tire of my father usurping my orders ‘in my best interest’. I apologize for your crude welcome - I meant to head the greeting at the gate, but was...waylaid.”

“It’s no trouble - we prepared for as much,” Ryū assures her, giving a wry smile.

“I, at least, had an inkling what we were in for.” Kakashi can’t help but match her dry humor. “We know what was going on...and who we’re actually here to see. Don’t worry yourself over it.”

“If this were the only circumstances, I wouldn’t,” Kumiko replies. “Ever since our disagreement upon my passage through to look for you,” she nods to Ryū, “my father has only grown all the more irritable and closed-off. He’s acting like a child who’s lost their favorite toy. I think it’s finally clear I’ve no intention to follow so closely in his footsteps.” Elbows brace atop the desk’s surface, palms catching her brow. “...the final straw was when I told him about my contact with Glaciris. He refuses to believe me. Claims I’m lying to try and buffer my image over his.”

While Ryū’s brow furrows sharply, Kakashi just rolls his eyes. “What?! He’d dare deny -!”

“He wasn’t there to witness it,” Kakashi cuts in with a glance. “...technically no one really was. I was unconscious, and though the caravan saw it from a distance, the Embrace faded as they got close. Only one person claimed to know what it was.”

The lux mage lifts a lip in a snarl. “What reason does Kumiko have to lie?”

“My father and I have butted heads on the direction to take our lands for some time now,” Kumiko replies, tone weary. “Our lands were one of the few least affected by the Rift. Survival this far north without ven is nigh on impossible, so those without it relied on us...or left. It only deepened the feelings of animosity for outsiders here. As our element is cold, so are we, to a point. Glaciris’ lands have remained in el’ven hands throughout the times of the wars with the el’tahl, and then after most el’ven took to hiding. We’ve remained unchanged, and it’s let us fester. My father wishes to continue on this way, and I do not. Times are changing. If we don’t, we’ll only get left further behind.”

A hand gestures. “He is the main reason we still have not formally agreed to the portal system. Why, beyond trade, we see so little travel between our land and the others. And even then, he argues allowing traders is still too open a border. Some of my people have come to disagree with him and side with my call for moving forward...but not all. Not even most. Our slow approach to things may have saved us in the past...but it’s going to be the end of us in the future.”

“...is that why you called us here?”

“Partly. I wish to try to negotiate with him, but I doubt much will come of it.” Kumiko’s arms fold, and she practically pouts. “...mostly I wanted show I wouldn’t obey his suggestion of distancing ourselves from the other lands, and the renewed Summit. So I brought its unofficial leaders here, instead.”

There’s a pause...and then they all break out into laughter as the tension breaks.

“I’m sorry,” Ryū offers in sympathy, wiping at an eye. “I know you’ve been so frustrated, and I can’t blame you. If only we could get Glaciris themselves involved, he’d change his tune.”

The glacial mage snorts. “Oh, a lot of things would change.”

“I do wonder if we’ll hear from them more after all that trouble with Madara and Tenebreos...true, the Rift brought great imbalance, but that was something else entirely.” Ryū’s head cocks. “...maybe we will hear from the Elementals more. If things get out of hand enough, at least.”

“I’d rather not have to go hunting for you all over the continent again,” Kakashi deadpans.

“Oh gods, no. But maybe -”

A knock sounds at the door, and the three of them glance over. “...yes?” Kumiko asks.

The entry opens, and a young woman sticks her head through, looking a little flustered. “There’s...there’s a man here for the Luxerian mage, milady.”

They all blink. “...a man?”

“A right frightful one, ma’am.”

Another pause, and then something seems to click. Ryū’s expression falls flat. “...I’d best to attend to this…” She stands and mutters something unheard under her breath, the door closing behind her.

Kumiko gives Kakashi a confused look. “...what was that?”

“That, I’m willing to bet, was Obito looking for his ward. He is her bodyguard while on probation, after all.”

“Did you not tell him you were leaving?”

“Oh, we did. He said he’d be fine. Apparently he underestimated his patience.”

After a beat, she largely fails to withhold a snort. “...I see.”

Kakashi can’t help a wry grin. “To be fair, he was stuck with her for quite some time...and she is also one of the few things he knows from both his time under Madara, and afterward. I think it’s made him a bit clingy.”

Kumiko chuckles with a slow shake of her head. “Just a bit.” Giving him a coy look, she adds, “They weren’t the only ones stuck together all that time, you know.”

“...true.” He softens, ever so slightly. “But we’re now about a half a continent away, sadly.”

“Yet another reason to get the portal system up and running…” There’s a sigh. “...I suppose for now, I can suffice with a visit. With your charge busy, maybe we can take a little walk...just the two of us?”

“The two of us, and all the guards spaced ten feet apart.”

She groans. “Don’t remind me.”

“Not to worry - I’m very good at ignoring guards,” Kakashi assures he as he stands, offering an arm she takes with a perked brow.

“...what is that supposed to mean…?”

“Well, sometimes...in order to slay a monster, you have to jump over a few private manor walls…”

“...okay, you have to tell me more about that one.”

“Who says it was just one?”

     ...I dunno what this is xD Kakashi pays Kumiko a visit in Boralis, and...stuff’s still a lil unsteady politically because why wouldn’t it be, lol      I’m still lacking a lot in regards to the various elemental cultures...and even then it’s gonna vary cuz of pocket populations and the like, so most of what this is is literally winged as I went. Hopefully it makes sense xD Though I DID come up with the Luxerian capital, Meridiem. It means glow and is one of the least ridiculous-sounding Latin words relating to light, haha! So now we have two capitals named out of...twelve. Welp.      Anyway, it’s a lil short cuz honestly a month straight of drabbles still has me rather burnt out, but...hopefully it was still a good read ;w; Kakashi has a lot of...interesting stories to tell from his years rogue as a hunter. Trespassing on nobles is probably one of his least trouble-inducing tales, honestly. He could write a book if he had the patience, but I think DL-Kakashi would find that rather boring, so he’ll just retell them verbally (and maybe do some slight embellishing).

[johnnyseod-remade]

The Syndicate; Prologue

Part: Prologue Pairing: None Genre: Action, Adventure (tbh idk) Description: Five boys have gathered. Solemn silence spreads around them and they look upon one another, hoping that an answer may descend upon them. However, no one speaks and the silence ensues. It is almost endless; the vastness of it spreads like poison throughout each of the boys. And as if connected by something other than their bond to each other, the answer dawns on them. An agreement, an alliance, an anchor. Word Count: 1432 Words Warnings: None. Requested: I mean, not really? @taeyong-dot-com​ and I kinda just ?? got super emo?? Song Recommendation: Cathedrals of Steel - Assassin’s Creed Syndicate Soundtrack (Austin Wintory) A/N: So, due to a dream and @taeyong-dot-com​ making me cry about this idea- I came to the conclusion that I should write this Assassin’s Creed x NCT AU. Really, I think this might be my favourite idea that I’ve ever had and hopefully, I can write this with minimal (or no) blocks. So, the most important thing is that, this is going to be a series! Basically this prologue will be followed by each individual member’s backstory and how it led to this point in the story! The backstories will involve “Y/N” but they are not the same person! In each chapter, “Y/N” represents someone different. I made it that way so that the reader, you, can read the ones about your bias and just afiowaenfoiawioef. Obviously, I suggest reading all the backstories, as it will show to the qualities of the characters and what types of assassins they are. But yeah, that’s completely up to you! Anyway, I really hope you guys enjoy this series!

The small room was quiet. Five boys were scattered around the room; some were sitting, some were standing, all holding goblets with wine. And all were silent. Absolute silence spread over them, like the darkness that covered their faces and their hearts. It was like a poison seeping through their veins, paralyzing even their thoughts. Nothing was being said in light of the recent events. But, who could blame them? What could anyone even say about the events that had transpired? It was not simple, but then again, life rarely was.

Every so often, one of the boys would glance at his comrades, a small sigh escaping him and then look away. This cycle of stealing glances continued on, until the boy with black hair and once star strung eyes looked up. Something along the lines of determination was etched into his features and he glanced carefully around at the boys. He tried to find the words that would mean something, anything.

“I think, it’s time.” His voice carried confidence, although he didn’t feel it.

Every head snapped up, eyes that held no sign of determination glanced at him. He could feel the lack of energy, and he couldn’t blame them; these days held no reason for trying. But at a moment like now, they could not let it influence their actions. Not with the position they held.

“I know how you must be feeling, what you must be thinking. Of course, I feel it too,” He paused, glancing around at them, making sure they knew he was more than sympathetic, “I recognize the fragility of your hearts and minds. And I understand; I myself am there. But there is another fragility to consider. That being the fragility of this situation. I know that I do not have to explain to each of you why we are here. We have all been through our fair share of pain and anguish but… This moment, this is the moment we were all trained for. We’re here because we have a job to do, and we should do well to remember that more than what has been taken from us could be at stake.”

One of the boys stood up from his place on the floor, raising his goblet to the ceiling. His eyes shone clear and hard as he nodded in the speaker’s direction.

“Well said Taeyong.” “Thank you Jaehyun.”

One boy, who was leaning against the wall, smiled at this. He nodded, repeating Jaehyun’s action and raising his cup to the ceiling.

“I expect nothing less than our leader to be sensible at a time like this. Good on you for not losing your head completely.” “Any of you would’ve done the same, even you Hansol.” “But none of us are as well spoken as you.” Another boy commented from the floor. “Johnny-” “There’s no use arguing or denying it Taeyong. You’re just going to have to accept that, out of the five of us, you’re the most adept at handling stress.” “Yuta…” “Trust us.” Jaehyun nodded, smiling.

Taeyong’s eyes regained some light and a small smile graced his lips. There was something warm about the boys. Something that carried the feeling of family and hope and kindness. Although the circumstances under which they met had not been ideal for forming friendships, they’d easily and quickly adjusted, becoming close and trusting. And for a job like the one they held, trust was necessary.

“Thank you, for believing in me… As a leader.” “Always.” Their voices echoed each other. “I suppose there isn’t much more left to say then?” Taeyong’s eyes flashed around the room. “Probably not.” Johnny’s smile reappeared after what felt like too long. “Shall we then?” Yuta murmured. “We’ve no choice.” Hansol pushed off the wall, fixing his cape. “Well, any final words?” Jaehyun’s grin brightened to the room.

No one seemed to know what to say, and their eyes naturally glided to the leader. He stood there numbly wondering what sort of words might comfort the other boys. And as if a prayer had been whispered into his ear, the words came to him. They felt right in his mind. He opened his mouth, the syllables ready to dive off his tongue.

“For those we have lost… And found.”

A ripple of emotion passed through the five boys and they nodded, a quiet sadness filling them. They raised their goblets in unison once more. A sort of understanding was made. Although they would never forget their past lives, they were just that, past lives.

“And,” Taeyong spoke up once more, “for The Syndicate.”

Silence filled the room but not for long, as they collectively murmured, “The Syndicate.”

Taeyong nodded at the door and they understood. Four of the boys slowly filed out of the room, giving the room no final glances. The last one, hesitated, glancing back over his shoulder. Would this be the last place he ever felt safe? Would this too, become a distant memory? Somewhere that seemed like a lifetime away? A frown flickered over his features, darkening his expression.

“Johnny- What are you doing?” “Ah, sorry Taeyong. Just… Thinking.” “About?” “If this is it… If things will never go back to how they were before. I was just wondering if this is the moment we lost our lives.” “I think we lost our lives a long time ago… Back when we first joined…” “No,” He said, a dark expression clouded him, making him look rather different from his natural self, “Even back then Taeyong… We still had a sense of self- a sense of life. We only lost it after…”

He couldn’t bring himself to say it. Whatever it was, Johnny couldn’t find the words to describe it. Taeyong gripped his shoulder and squeezed gently.

“I know…” “Especially you. You lost the most-” “We all lost something dear to us. Not just me.” “Do you believe in fate?” “No, do you?” “If I did, I don’t know if I’d be able to live with myself. I would question constantly why fate had allowed us to suffer… Why it had…” The boy trailed off, getting lost in thought. “Johnny, we have a long way to travel tonight. We should get going- And I think the boys must be waiting.” “Right…” He nodded, glancing back at the room once again. “It’ll be okay. This is what our lives are. We’re meant to protect people.” “I know… I just wish I’d been able to protect the most important ones.”

Taeyong sighed and squeezed Johnny’s shoulder again. There was nothing to say this time; no words could heal these wounds. But the mere action was appreciated and meant more to Johnny than he could express. He gave the boy a weak smile, trying to tell him he was okay, but the words would not leave his throat. They were stuck. But Taeyong could tell, just from his broken expression. He understood.

Letting go of Johnny’s shoulder, Taeyong turned and walked back towards the door. Johnny followed, this time, not glancing back at the room. Together, they walked out the door and into a vast open stretch of land, staring out at the horizon. Everything was painted with the rays of a golden sun, sinking lower and lower against the horizon line. The sky was, fittingly, a blood orange. The few clouds that lingered in the sky were thrown into a golden glow. And the smell of spring nights hung in the air, making anyone vulnerable to the heavy sleepiness it brought.

Train tracks were bolted to the ground a few meters from where they stood, and as they looked around they noticed the other boys, huddled together, conversing quietly. They noticed that Johnny and Taeyong had finally emerged from the makeshift hideout.

“Remember Johnny: this is all for the greater good. All of this, we do it for-” “The Syndicate.”

The sound of an approaching train caught their ears. There was a flash of eyes followed by nodding, and suddenly all five boys were running at the train. Trained and skillful hands grabbed at ledges and ladders, hoisting themselves up onto the moving locomotive.

They stood together on the roof of the train cars, staring at the hideaway as it grew smaller and more distant. The sun continued to sink lower on the horizon, as the rushing of air blew through their hair. This was a life they had chosen and their current path had become an inevitable one. But so long as they had each other and the strength of The Syndicate, their aims and resolve would remain everlasting.