#security chief

[junkyardbluebox]

Caption This!

[smbhax]

Today’s watercolors: “Clues” https://www.ebay.com/itm/145080366884

[usairforcehistoricsociety]

[security-chief-odo]

The Fake Dating Job - Chapter 4

Elliot Spencer x Reader

Previous chapters: 1 2 3

Note: Thanks for your patience. My life has been crazy as of late. In exchange for bearing with me, I offer you, probably my favorite chapter so far of any of my fics.

Word count: ~3.7k

Description: You and Eliot pine for each other throughout the reception. Will your ex get in the way of your happiness?

• • •

After the ceremony, you and the rest of the bridal party are asked to hang back for photos. As the rest of the guests file into the reception hall for the cocktail hour, Eliot makes a brief detour to give you a peck on the cheek. “See you inside sweetheart.” he says softly before rejoining the rest of the guests.

Your mind occasionally wandered to Eliot throughout the photo process, whereas his mind never left you from the moment that he left the bridal suite this morning. You looked gorgeous in the dress your sister had picked out for you. Maybe he could blame the dress for why he spent more time focused on you than on the actual wedding.

Though that is the beauty of this whole plan, there would be nobody to explain it to as he was supposed to want to stare at you. There would be no moment where Hardison calls him out for staring at you for a little too long. There would be no explaining, rather lying, to Parker about how protective he gets over you on a mission. There would be no knowing look across the room from Nate or well meaning advice from Sophie. There would be nothing but his own thoughts and delusions that you would ever want him to be more than just your fake boyfriend.

When the bridal party finally makes their entrance into the reception hall, his eyes are searching for you. Despite how happy you are for your sister, a feeling of relief nearly consumes you once you find yourself by Eliot’s side once again. Though, as you make your way to the table, your relief falters slightly at the realization of who you’ll be seated near. Your ex is seated at the same table as you, only two seats away.

Eliot’s warm embrace calms you though. This is what he was here for ultimately, to be a barrier between you and your ex. To make the night go better for you. And in a small way, he was already doing just that.

After the couple shares their first dance, dinner is served. You desperately try to avoid giving your ex any attention, and Eliot makes that easy. He eats slowly, taking time between bites to shower you with little bits of affection. His hand rests on your thigh through much of the meal and you hope that the flush that crosses your cheeks isn’t too obvious in the dim lighting. You could get used to these casual touches, if only they weren’t for show.

“How’d you like the food?” you ask, hoping that a bit of small talk can keep your wishful thoughts at bay.

“It was alright.”

That response alone was very telling so you quietly finish the sentence he was too polite to complete. “But you could’ve done better?” You raise your eyebrow at him as he half nods.

“I’m just sayin’ I know what these wedding caterers charge and they should take a bit more pride in their work.”

You can’t help, but chuckle at this as the DJ announces the father daughter dance. You turn your chair towards the dance floor to watch your father and sister share this moment and Elliot does the same beside you. He wraps his arm around you and pulls you closer to him. You can’t help but lean into the touch. You probably don’t need to do as much as you are to sell the act, but damn it, if this is your only opportunity to be this close with Eliot, maybe relishing in it a little isn’t a bad thing.

After the dance, cake is served and this time Eliot has no complaints. The cake is as close to perfect as any cake could be. As you finish, you remind yourself to ask your sister where she got the cake from so you could maybe stop by the bakery on your own before you leave town.

As the dance floor opens up, you take this opportunity to go talk to your parents. You haven’t had enough time with them this weekend and you really have missed them. Ever the gentleman, Eliot insists on tagging along to properly meet them. He is far too good at this fake boyfriend thing.

You greet your parents with a warm hug. “I’ve missed you guys!” you say trying to be heard over the music. “It’s been too long.”

“And whose fault is that?” your dad asks.

Your mom nudges him and gives a disapproving glare at his bluntness. “You should visit more. Maybe then it wouldn’t have taken so long for you to introduce us to this handsome fella.”

“I’ve been telling her the same thing.” Eliot steps in with the charm offensive in full force. “I’m Eliot.” He shakes each of your parent’s hands. “I’ve heard so much about you.”

“All bad things I suppose?” your mom asks teasingly.

“Hardly. She’s told me so many fun stories about your family. Though maybe a few of those stories could be classified as embarrassing.”

It’s nice to see your parents get along with Eliot, though it shouldn’t matter to you. You will have a fake breakup in a few weeks and this will be nothing but a memory for both of you. A damn good one too.

You’re broken out of that train of thought when you hear your mom reply, “Oh, is that so?”

“She’s got plenty of embarrassing stories of her own.” your dad adds in. Eliot lets out a hearty laugh at the prospect.

“Oh? Any worth telling?” You bury your face in your hands in fear of the mortifying words that may come next from either of your parents.

“How about you buy me a drink and I’ll tell you anything you wanna know about our dear Y/N?” Your mom suggests.

“Gladly” Eliot guides your mom to the bar and out of your earshot as you sit with your father.

You sit in silence at first, just enjoying the shared time. Minutes pass before your father speaks again, without even looking directly at you, “He’s good for you, you know.”

You figure the best way to avoid being caught in a lie is to just stay as close to the truth as possible, so you tell your dad your real thoughts on Eliot. “I know, he’s a really nice guy. He’s funny and caring. I really love him.”

“That’s not what I mean.” He turns to fully face you. “I just haven’t seen you this happy in some time.”

“Oh.” you say, stunned. This statement catches you off guard but luckily your father continues, so you don’t have to fill the silence.

“You seemed so sad before, especially with James. You used to force those tight lipped smiles that you thought we didn’t notice. This new guy has brought back your infectious smile. The one you don’t even seem to notice, you just do it.” He pauses slightly, “I missed that smile.”

This conversation comes to an end as your mom and Eliot return laughing loudly. Once he approaches the table, he stops in front of you. “Care for a dance?” He offers you his hand.

You gladly accept and follow him out onto this dance floor.You dance through several upbeat songs, joking and laughing at each other’s goofy dance moves throughout. For a moment, you forget how painful going back to normal life may be because having this much fun with Eliot reminds you how important your friendship is. The heartbreak could never break this bond. The bitterness of pining could never overpower the sweetness of these moments you share.

He spins you around and holds you close to him, your back to his chest. As you sway together to the music Eliot whispers in your ear, “You know, your mom told me some interesting things about you.”

“Oh god. What did she say?” You brace yourself for whatever ungodly stories from your youth your mom may have dug up for this occasion.

“Nothing too bad. I actually thought it was cute.” You turn in his arms to face him and raise your eyebrow as if to ask him to elaborate. “First she told me about the time you cut your own hair.”

You let out a chuckle, mostly in relief at how benign of a story that was. “I can still remember the terrible bangs I had in my school pictures that year. It felt like it took forever for those to grow out.”

“So is that why you convinced your sister to do the same just two years later?” He looks at you accusatorily and you know that your mom had to have given him more ammunition if he’s already digging in on the teasing.

You raise your hands defensively, “I just handed her the scissors and told her I thought she’d look cute with bangs. What she did after that is not my business.”

You wrap your arms around Eliot as you continue to dance as you bicker. “Oh I’m sure it was all her own idea.” His smile only widens as he continues, “She also showed me this picture of you as a kid where you were laying face first into your plate of mashed potatoes. It was cute. You’re still pretty cute when you get all sleepy like that.”

This catches you off guard because it’s just one more moment that’s a step past friendly without any reason for it. Nobody could really overhear your conversation over the music. He said that just for your benefit, or maybe just to sell the act. Maybe in a different life Eliot could have been an actor, he certainly played the part of lovestruck boyfriend pretty convincingly.

Trying not to focus much more on his words, lest their implications consume you, you add, “Did she tell you how I used to fall asleep at my bedtime so religiously I would sleep sitting up at family gatherings or in the cart at the grocery store?” He shook his head in response. “Yeah I wish I was still that committed to my sleep schedule.”

“Well ain’t that the truth sweetheart.” There’s a softness about him that is so rare and nearly indescribable. It’s a nearly magnetic force and you find it impossible to look away from him. It feels like if you even glance away for a second, the levity will be gone and the weight of the world will once again return to rest on his shoulders.

Soon you have to shift your focus as the DJ announces the bouquet toss. The men clear off the dance floor as all of the unmarried women gather. Sure, it doesn’t really mean anything if you catch the bouquet, but you find yourself reaching for it nonetheless. Maybe it was fate or maybe just luck or maybe it was set up by your sister considering her earlier remarks, but regardless the bouquet is in your hand and you’re staring down at it in shock.

Your sister hugs you and you know it’s going to break her heart when you and Eliot “split up.” Though by now, you’re too deep into it and so you have to act excited about this turn of events. A small part of you is excited though, the part that has clung onto every romantic moment this weekend as if it’s more than a fantasy. Perhaps that part isn’t so small.

On the side of the dancefloor the excitement over your purely hypothetical future builds in Eliot too. Fuck it. He won’t have many more chances to do this. He makes his way across the floor to you and happily pulls you to him, first in a tight hug, then into a lingering kiss. One that he has to hope you can’t just feel the sincerity of his desire dripping from.

You could get used to being kissed like this. Though, as your family is currently about half of the room, you pull away from Eliot, you can’t convince yourself to go very far away. Your foreheads rest against each other and the tension is palpable. Damn. He really is committed to convincing your family. He would have you convinced if you hadn’t been the one to set up this whole ruse.

Around you the dance floor fills again as the DJ turns on a slow song. You and Eliot hold each other close as you dance. Eliot softly sings along in your ear. His soothing voice slowly erases every worry you’ve had about this night. You feel safe and at home in his arms, and even if it won’t last, you can’t help sinking further against him. Truly if your heart must be broken, there’s nobody you would trust more to break it kindly.

You and Eliot are lost to the world around you as you both relish in what little time you have left to hold each other. That momentary bliss comes to an abrupt halt as the song fades out and you notice a presence looming just behind you. Just then you hear James’ voice behind you as his hand touches your back, sending a chill down your spine at your own unease. Speaking to Eliot he asks, “May I have her for this next one?”

Something seems off to him, but you reassure Eliot that it’s fine with a polite nod. There’s a sinking feeling in his chest, of course this was never real so he should have been prepared for rejection, but it still stings seeing you in someone else’s arms. Maybe that’s why you invited him, not to avoid your asshole ex, but to make James jealous.

Eliot goes to the bar to drown in something other than his own self pity and insecurities, and is met with your mother inviting him to sit next to her. Despite his own feelings, he won’t ruin things with your family so he orders a drink and sits at the open stool she has offered him.

“You’re good for her, you know?”

“I try to be.”

“I mean it. She’s happier with you than she has been in a long time. She still thinks she doesn’t deserve you though.” your mom looks at him with a sad sort of smile.

“What?” he asks incredulously.

“She’s always been a worrier. You can see it in the way she holds you,” she pauses in thought before correcting herself, “in the way you hold each other. You’re both so scared the other will leave. You don’t think you deserve her either, do you?”

It’s a relief in a way to be able to be truly honest for once this weekend. “No ma’am. I can’t say I do. I’m happy to have her until she realizes that though, and that’s enough for now.” He waves to the bartender and orders a second drink.

“You’re both idiots, I swear.” Your mother lets out a long sigh. “Do you treat my daughter with kindness?”

Suddenly, under your mom’s gaze Eliot feels like he’s sitting in the principal’s office facing detention. He feels small. “Of course.”

“And you love her?”

“Yes.”

“So are you saying Y/N doesn’t deserve your kindness and love?”

“No ma’am.”

“Then pull your head out of your ass and stop acting like she’s going to leave you. That girl loves you, anyone could see that, so why are you sitting here with me at the bar, drowning your sorrows?”

He hangs his head in defeat, he couldn’t argue the point of your affections, not without ruining your plan, so he settles on the easier argument. “She already has a dance partner.” He gestures to the dance floor.

Your mom finally glances over to you and rolls her eyes. “God I’ve always hated that son of a bitch.”

Eliot can’t help the deep belly laugh that escapes him. Your mom cursing in anger is funny when it’s not directed at him. It’s then when you turn to where he can see your face, your features lined with sadness. His protective instincts finally kick in and he heads your way. He tries to hang back to get the full scope of the situation.

As Eliot was at the bar, your ex had been saying truly awful things. As Eliot reapproached, he continued. “He’s gonna leave you, you know?”

Eliot couldn’t make out any of what was being said, but he knew from the tension in your body that you weren’t happy. He’s kicking himself now for letting his own insecurities put you in the exact kind of situation he was here to help you avoid.

Not wanting to cause a scene, you plaster a fake smile on your face and through gritted teeth say “I fail to see how that’s any of your fucking business James.”

“I’m just looking out for you, babe.”

“Don’t call me that” you cut him off.

He continues, not acknowledging what you said. “I may have moved on, but I still care about you. You don’t deserve to be hurt when he finds a prettier girl and runs away with her.”

“Fuck off, James.” Eliot isn’t going to stay with you, but that doesn’t mean you need to tolerate James’ bullshit. You pull yourself out of his hold but he follows behind you.

Eliot quickly approaches as he sees this and is in earshot finally for the last insult James throws out. “You know, I don’t know why you bothered catching that bouquet. Nobody is ever going to love you, much less marry you.”

In an instant, James is grabbed from behind, turned, and pinned against the nearby wall. You barely hear the commotion behind you as you exit the reception hall and finally let a tear run down your face.

Inside all eyes are on Eliot and your family has gathered as he begins yelling at James, “What’s your fucking problem, man?”

All too cocky, James smirks, “Here to ask if you can have my current girlfriend when we break up? You clearly love my leftovers.”

That earns him a broken nose. Eliot’s fist makes sharp contact with his face and the blood from his nose quickly stains his white shirt. “You need to shut the fuck up and leave Y/N the fuck alone, or you’ll find out just how quickly I can break another bone.”

Ever the idiot James opens his mouth to reply, but, before he can, your sister yells at him, “Better yet, get the fuck out of my wedding.”

With the bride’s blessing, Eliot and your father drag James out to his car and, seeing he’s been beat, or perhaps fearing being beaten again, he leaves without another word.

He sees you sitting on a bench outside the reception hall and breaks into a jog, wanting to comfort you. He holds you to his chest as you gently sob. As much as you didn’t like that James was saying it, you couldn’t shake the feeling that he was right, but you let that insecurity burrow further inside your heart as you realize something far worse. You probably just ruined your sister’s wedding.

You sit up abruptly and wipe the tears from your face, “I need to go apologize to my sister.” You run inside, leaving Eliot to slowly follow, though he washes your ex’s blood off of his hand before re-entering the reception hall.

Your eyes scan the room and finally land on your sister. The anxiety makes the words practically spill out of your mouth, “I’m so sorry. I didn’t mean to cause a scene at your wedding. I know I can’t make it better, but I’m sorry for ruining your night.”

Both of you are crying now. “You didn’t ruin anything. I shouldn’t have let him come, even if he was dating one of the other bridesmaids. If anything you fixed the wedding by getting rid of that piece of shit.”

“Well I’m pretty sure the getting rid of him part was more Eliot than it was me.” you chuckle. He walks up behind you, as if summoned by the mention of his name.

He looks toward your sister and her now husband as he wraps his hand around yours. “I am so sorry for,” he pauses and gestures vaguely towards the spot he had pinned James, “well, all of that really.”

Your sister laughs, “No need. We’ll just call it dinner and a show, and it was quite the show.” she leans in towards you both and in a far more serious tone adds “I heard from some of the others what he was saying before. You did the right thing, you could’ve gone a bit further to teach him a lesson if you ask me.”

He looks to you, now remembering that your ex had plenty of time in his absence to say far worse than what Eliot heard. “Wish I would’ve.” he lets out a nervous laugh, still unsure where he stands with everyone else. “I’m just glad he’s gone though and can’t cause any more trouble.”

Your sister replies, “Agreed. Though maybe try not to hit anyone at the next wedding?”

“I think I can manage that.” He smiles, glad to see that everyone is still in good spirits.

The groom, also seeming to relax, throws in, “You’d better because if those flowers are anything to go by, it’ll be your own.”

Eliot wraps his arms around you, and with more sincerity than you were prepared for says, “Hopefully.”

Trying so hard not to get lost in your imaginary future with Eliot, you change the topic. “Your wedding was really beautiful by the way. Congratulations.” You hug your sister. As you pull away, you lean back against Eliot and say. “I think it’s time for us to go back to the hotel though. I think we’ve created enough of a story tonight.”

“Of course,” she agrees. “Have a good night. Thank you both for coming.” Then as you walk away, your sister calls after you, loud enough for about half the room to hear, “Don’t do anything I wouldn’t do, lovebirds.”

This leads to a few hoots and hollers from the other guests, just trying to tease and embarrass you further. You flip your sister off as Eliot guides you out of the room.

• • •

Next chapter

Let me know what you think!

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[cleowho]

“I could tell you, but...”

Silver Nemesis - season 25 - 1988

[kiteou]

More drawings

[evermoredeluxe]

Taylor at the Chiefs game in Kansas City on December 10, 2023 (x)

[bumblingbabooshka]

Hey, Star Trek Writers... -taps the glass-

[sinestrosmind]

thanks to @tinyghostotus I made a few redraws of an IDW TMNT panel that were ABSOLUTELY meme material

[pushing500]

Ask, and ye shall receive! Ratchet is a very good millitor who serves double duty as the colony's Chief of Security and as one of Mechi's (many) mechanical butlers. It is very diligent in its patrol duties and can often be found carefully inspecting the holding platforms where Ms Clarabelle (the sightstealer) and Kitschy Flamingo (the fingerspike) are contained.

Nobody will hurt its boss, no sir, not while Ratchet is still functional!

(The picture in question)

[stormesandshowersparttwo]

so yesterday I was at the Kansas City Chiefs victory parade. I luckily didn't hear any gunshots or see blood, but we (me, fiance, mom, and a couple friends) were close. the shooting happened as the rally was ending. the crowd became very congested and we couldn't move much while trying to leave, which caused me to be a bit nervous, but there were a lot of people at the rally so I thought it was natural busyness.

someone behind us yelled there was a shooting and to move. even at that point, I didn't want to overreact as there have been instances where people say that and it's not happening. but then people started to hop a small wall to get out of there. my mom had knee surgery a year ago so I was worried she wouldn't be able to, but once she did then I knew all of my group was going to do the same.

my fiance and his friend were the last two climb up, I waited for them as the rest of my group stepped further up a hill. once we got back with them, I could see groups of people running down the street, making me fully realize something bad was going on. while my group wanted to hop down into the street to make our way to a friend's close by apartment l, I told them we should wait because I didn't want us to get hurt or lost in the waves of runners. once people were just walking fast, we could safely make our way out of there.

police sirens were blaring and various sections were closed off, already for the parade but more tape was going up. I stayed closer to my mom as she was having a hard time believing it was going on. my friend's apartment was taped off as one of the shooters apparently ran past there and fired a shot (before we arrived there and no one injured). once inside for safety we could follow the news (as down at the parade there were so many people cell service wasn't working, which is now scarier looking back as we wouldn't have been able to receive any updates). we left and got food, but what had been a really fun day was definitely ruined with 1 person dead and more than 20 injured, mostly minors.

fuck the NRA, fuck republicans, fuck "pro-second amendment" democrats, and fuck anyone who puts a (mis)interpretation of a clause on a piece of paper above human life. my fiance is more shaken up today than yesterday, unable to stop watching videos of what happened in Reddit. it also happened right in front of the building I proposed to him at, so it sucks we will now have that memory tainted as well. I hate it here (the United States).

[the-garbanzo-annex-jr]

Source

More here

[safyresky]

Grand Tour

Part I

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. They're fascinating little creatures!" The Prince tapped the glass of the jar he held in his hand. A fluffy little spike ball jumped a bit, spindly legs going wide as it ran all over the jar. "They travel in a big cloud and wreak havoc. They don't mean to, of course. They're just surviving. As we all are. But they do have a tendency to clump and stick to things and they do not come off that easy. We don't have these at the castle! The name is most definitely localized. It'll be exciting to study these closely and—"

"WAIT. THEY WHAT?"

The Prince frowned, turning around and shouting back at the farmer's fields. "THEY STICK."

"OH. WELL THAT EXPLAINS A LOT." The other Prince came around the corner of the farmer's shed, hopping on one foot, covered in pygmys. "Great news, Pyros, Jeremiah. I think I got them all."

"And they're going to eat right through your armour, Blaise. Marvin's going to kill you, you know."

"Not if my twin brother helps me out before then!"

Pyros tried very hard to look stern. He really, really, did. But they'd been travelling cross country for almost a month now and he was feeling quite good being away from home and Blaise looked really very funny with that monstrous big grin of his and he was going to be able to study a creature he could never get his hands on all cooped up inside the castle, so the smile did not slip out so much as it did explode across his face. He laughed to himself, waiting for Blaise to hop right beside him before summoning his staff. Mumbling to himself, he drew a few shapes around his brother, tapped the jar-ed pygmy with the top of his staff, and, once the jewel glowed, tapped the tip of Blaise's armoured foot. The Pygmys flew right off him.

"There we go! Better?"

"Much," Blaise grinned, summoning his own staff. Quickly drawing a circle in the ground he struck his staff in the middle of it. The Pygmys suddenly stopped bouncing around and were pulled into the circle, light stretching up around the perimeter and successfully trapping the sticky little fuzzy creatures within.

"Hmm. Nice. Think that'll hold for the night? I should be able to figure out how to dispose of them by the morning."

"Yeah, it'll hold. And we could always just. Y'know. Relocate them. We don't need to destroy them."

"Blaise, they're pests."

"Maybe they're useful somewhere else! Away from the crops and groves and what have you—"

"AHH! Your HIGHNESSESS!!"

Pyros looked appalled. "Is he calling the both of us? Really?"

Blaise snickered. "Hey, Marvin!" he said, eye contact with Pyros unbroken.

"No no no no NO don't you HEY MARVIN me, Prince Blaise. LOOK at the STATE of the two of you!" The angry drow thrust his hands out at them, face a deeper than usual shade of purple as he caught his breath. "Your armour is COVERED in some sticky substance and WHERE are your surcoats? Tippet? Robes?" He whirled, glaring at Pyros now, arms on his hips. "And YOU, Prince Pyros. WHERE is your ARMOUR?"

Both boys protested, both insisting they did not need the bits they were missing.

"Look, Marv, I've got the armour and Pyros has the robes and surcoats and royal colours so I think we're fine. I mean, between the two of us you have a whole dressed prince!" He grinned, throwing his arm over the drow's shoulders and bringing him in close.

The drow gulped, ducking a bit to avoid the fiery mess that was Prince Blaise's hair. "Your parents will have my head if I don't keep you shipshape and safe and that INCLUDES properly armed AND clean!"

"Marvin, please," Pyros said, raising a hand to placate. "Between the two of us, we'll be fine. We're both nearly masters at the warlock craft—some of us more so than others—and we do have our innate summer sprite lineage at our disposal as well."

"Which some of us excel in, more so than others."

"More so than others—"

Blaise stuck out his tongue with a very immature mlem.

Pyros returned the favour in kind, with a MLEM of his own.

"BOYS! This is really very unbecoming of the both of you—"

Pyros rolled his eyes as Blaise waved carelessly in the air with a very passionate, "Pish, posh."

"What? Pish posh?" Pyros looked perplexed. "Really? Where on Earth—"

"Winter."

"Of course."

"What? It's a fun turn of phrase!"

"You know, you are smitten with that season—"

"BOYS."

"Marv."

"Marvin."

Marvin closed his eyes for a moment, pinching the bridge of his nose. He inhaled deeply. Exhaled. Pressed his fingers together one by one before opening his eyes. "Prince Blaise. Prince Pyros. I really must insist—"

"We're fine, Marvin! Really. Look, I'll clean the sticky off in a snap!" And he did just that. Blaise snapped his fingers, the sticky residue left from the Pygmies peeling off of his armour and disappearing into thin air, the armour itself looking freshly polished. "Boom."

"You still aren't wearing—"

"And I'm not going to! Just like Pyros isn't going to wear the armour!"

"It'll only impede my evening's work."

Marvin wrinkled his nose. He looked like he wanted to protest. "Fine. If you insist."

"And oh but we do!"

"Really and truly. I assure you, we will be just fine. You're dismissed, Marvin."

"Yeah, go enjoy the sights! We don't get to go out often, y'know."

Marvin's nose somehow wrinkled even more. "Very well."

Hands still clasped, he turned on his heel and headed back towards the royal entourage, immediately barking orders and dispersing them throughout the town.

"He's going to kill us."

"Oh yeah. One of these days, for sure. But that's a problem for later! For now, you've got fuzzballs to study, and I've got several other tenants to check in with. Unless you want to join—"

"Absolutely not, thanks. Jeremiah, if you wouldn't mind directing me to your local castor? Prisma, I believe is the name?"

"Sure, your highness. Big tower up the street. Very purple. Can't miss it."

"Much obliged. Blaise, I believe we'll have to stay overnight."

"I'll get Marv on it."

"Shout if he tries to kill you," Pyros said, heading down the path.

"He'll shout louder!"

Pyros laughed, turning at the gate and heading up the street.

Blaise watched him go, chuckling to himself. "Ah. I'd say poor Marv, but he makes it too easy. Anything else you need our assistance with, Jeremiah?"

"Well, there is one thing. It's not so much an assist more so as it is a concern. I'd take it to an audience day but uh, I don't often make it up your way."

Blaise smiled warmly. "Sure. What's up?"

"Well, ah. Your Majes-ah, Highness. Sorry, sorry. I mean no offence, I just—the titles—I—"

Blaise held up a hand. "Don't worry. Just Blaise is fine."

Jeremiah paled. "Are you certain?"

"The only people who care about titles are the King and Queen and Pyros and Marv and they are all not here so yes, I'm positive."

The magibean gulped. "Well, ah, Blaise." The corners of his mouth twitched; Blaise grinned. "I hope you don't take offence to this—"

"Why would I?"

"It's about her snowiness. I don't want to impose or, or suggest anything bad or untoward or—"

Blaise tensed. "Is she okay?"

"Ah, I imagine so, yes. I've not heard anything otherwise. It's just...the crops have been freezing."

"Pardon?"

"Every morning I've woken up and the crops have been lightly frosted. I would've attributed it to the East's natural tendency to frost over, on occasion, but that seemed illogical given the time of year...and then I saw her."

"Who?"

"The Season."

"Winter."

Jeremiah nodded. He wrung his hat in his hands, swallowed with an audible gulp. "Um. Every night. Around the same time. She appears just on the edge o'er there," he gestured vaguely to the farthest reaches of his fields. "She lingers for a bit. And then leaves. And every time I go out afterwards, everything is frosty. And it lasts through to the morning. It melts with the sun, but the frost isn't good for the crops and I can't afford any loss—"

Blaise held up a hand. The farmer stopped abruptly, his heart racing, breathing heavily.

"Have you talked to her?"

"Talked? To a SEASON?" Jeremiah blanched. "I'm just a mere farmer, I could never—"

"She's very friendly. Frosty exterior aside."

"Well, Prince Blaise, if it's not out of turn for me to say...you can interact with her. I cannot."

"Why not? I'm sure she'd stay and chat. She's one of Mother Nature's seasons, she won't ignore you if you have a concern—"

The farmer cleared his throat. "Castes, Your Majesty. Ah, Highness. Sorry."

"Blaise. Just Blaise."

"Right. Well. Being what you are—"

"A sprite?"

"A prince."

"Oh! Oh. Right."

"You travel the same circles as her, as it were. It's normal for you to just. Walk up to a season and talk to her. But not for farmers like me."

Blaise's shoulders dropped. His hair died down. "Oh."

"I'm sorry, Blaise, I didn't mean to—"

"Ah, don't worry about it!" He perked back up, the brief moment of sadness gone as fast as it came on. It was enough to give Jeremiah whiplash. "Every night, you said?"

Jeremiah nodded.

"Perfect. Tell you what. If you wouldn't mind running over to Marv and letting him know as fancily as possible that Pyros and I have decided to stay the night here, and to make preparations. Y'know. Station guards wherever, find us some nice lodgings—"

"Oh! Okay, sure! So something like," he cleared his throat, straightening his posture and holding his hat behind his back. "The Princes have decided to stay overnight. Prince Blaise has asked me to ask you to make whatever preparations you see fit to, and to procure lodgings for them for the night. Like that?"

"PERFECT! Thanks, Jerry." Blaise clapped his arm, grinning. "And while you do that, I'll gather up the rest of the Pygmys for Pyros, and tonight I'll stake out your fields! If Winter comes by, I'll talk to her and see if I can figure out the frost for you."

Jeremiah brightened. "Really? You'd do that?"

"Of course! Why wouldn't I?"

"It's just...you're so hands on! The King isn't. We usually have to wait a few days before the appropriate measures are taken for various issues. You and your brother tackle them right away! It's not—it's unexpected. And, um, to besmirch the character of a Season in front of a royal?"

"Besmirch?" Blaise laughed. "Nah, you're just concerned, is all. And I appreciate you telling me. I'll get it sorted, don't you worry. I'm sure it's nothing."

Jeremiah nodded. "I'm sure you're right."

---

Lodgings set for the night and Pyros hard at work with the local castor, Blaise set himself up at the farthest reaches of Jeremiah's fields, watching the sun fade and the night creep in. The sky was clear as can be, a crisp chill in the air if his visible breath was anything to go off of.

Stars shone brilliantly. Blaise lay between the wheat stalks, hands behind his head, watching the stars as the night grew later still. Hair out, he was surrounded by darkness, enjoying the rare moment of silence and beauty.

Sure, they had stars at the castle. But it was never completely dark. There were always lanterns lit and soldiers marching about, armoured heavily compared to Blaise. There was so much world beyond the castle, and he loved the quarterly outings the King and Queen had the pair of them undertaking, despite knowing full well the reasoning behind it.

After all, he and Pyros were approaching eighteen-hundred. They were well past the age of majority and neither ruler had deemed who would be next in line yet, and it was coming up fast. It was obvious to him that they were trying to keep the two of them out of the way of their decision making. Especially with how Pyros kept asking. And how he himself kept not asking. In fact, Blaise was avoiding the topic entirely. It was clear as the night sky to him that they'd been sent out to give the King and Queen a break, or to test the pair of them, or maybe even both.

He tried not to think about it too much; tried not to bring it up. Pyros got all weird about it, and he'd missed his brother lately. See, going into the advanced studies with the Queen had been...

Intense.

Yeah.

It was intense.

Pyros had doubled down his already double-downed practise and study routine and they didn't get to hang out as often anymore. Not until they'd been assigned to do these outings. And Pyros had been all weird at first, but as their time out grew, his weirdness seemed to disappear, and things felt almost normal which was a very nice change as things were feeling very not normal back at the castle as of late and Blaise Did Not Care For It.

Deep breaths, he told himself. We're not home right now. We're out and about. Just enjoy the night. And also maybe keep an ear out, like you told Jeremiah you would.

His breathing evened out (he hadn't even realized it'd started speeding up) and he cast his gaze back up at the sky, watching the stars twinkle as the planet turned, the cosmic dust coming into view high above him. He sighed, smiling up at the sky, when suddenly a pale, round face obstructed his view, white tendrils of hair framing her flushed cheeks, blue eyes lit up.

"Beautiful night, isn't it?"

"It just got even prettier, if you'll believe it."

She snorted, her head snapping back up—but not before Blaise caught the silly little grin. With one of his own, he sat up, staring up at the season before him.

"Ever the flatterer."

"You love it."

"I don't recall saying that."

Blaise smirked, bringing up a knee. He rested his elbow on it, holding his head in his hand. "You don't need to."

A delicate hand came up, blocking her mouth as she let out a little laugh.

Armour clanking, Blaise stood up, blinking briefly when he realized she was a lot farther down than he remembered.

"Why are you so small?"

She snorted. "I believe it's because you have gotten tall. Er. Still. I'm going to throw out my neck at the rate you're going, Blaise—er, your highness."

"No need for that! It's just us, Winter."

"Oh! Good! In that case!" She shifted, adopting her regal stance, folding her hands in front of her dress. "Blaise. What on Earth are you doing laying in the fields this far east and this late at night?!"

"Waiting for you, actually."

The Season flushed, her posture relaxing. "Oh! That's sweet. Unless I'm in trouble, of course." She paused for a moment, curiosity overtaking the flush. "You'd sneak out for me?"

"I mean, if you asked, probably! But I'm not sneaking around. It's, uh, the quarterly check in."

"Already?"

"Well, it has been three months since the last one."

"Good heavens. Time certainly flies, doesn't it?"

"It would seem so, but you know, I've never asked. Does he?"

"You know, I'm not quite sure! I've never thought to ask either. Perhaps Mother knows?"

"Maybe. You should ask her."

"I'll forward that to management. Right! Now then! You haven't answered my question. What are you doing laid out in the fields this late at night?"

"Waiting for you."

She blinked, dumbstruck. "You were serious?"

"Well, yeah!" Blaise chuckled. He ran a hand through his hair, sparks trailing behind him as it lit up. He took a moment to admire the way the firelight played on her face. There were angles at play, breaking through the childhood roundness. He wasn't the only one who'd grown, it seemed.

"Blaise? Earth to his highness? You there?"

"Yes! Right." He cleared his throat. "Jeremiah—the tenant who lives here? He had a bit of a concern he brought up earlier today when we rolled into town. Apparently his crops are frosting over every night, and though it melts during the day, he's concerned about the long term exposure effects. He thought it was you doing it. Says you've been stopping by every night?"

"Indeed I have! But not for the reason he thinks. Actually, this is great timing because I have a concern to raise with you."

"Oh?"

"It's about Jeremiah's crops. They're frosting over!"

Blaise snorted. "You don't say?"

She nodded, giggling quietly to herself. "Come along, your highness. I'll show you. Right this way!" And without waiting for him to reply, Winter grabbed his hand and led (dragged) him to the corner of the field Jeremiah had pointed out earlier that day. She pulled him down, the pair squatting in the stalks, staring at the wheat. She let go, keeping her hands above her shoulders and maintaining eye contact. "See how my hands are way up here?"

Blaise nodded.

"Right. Well. Look at the wheat."

Blaise did, and immediately found himself frowning as frost crept over the sheaths, tickling the very tops of the plants and settling in for the night. It stretched on, right through the entirety of the field. He glanced back over at Winter: hands still up; no obvious magical signature showing. He felt the magic in the air around them. Her magical signature was not pulling at the threads.

It wasn't her.

"So that shouldn't be doing that."

"What's worse is it won't listen to me."

"What?"

"Watch."

Winter stood up, the heads of the wheat tickling her elbows. Her hands took on a white glow as she pulled them back, and the frost stayed perfectly comfortable on the spikes of the wheat. She gestured towards it violently, the white glow gone, the most frustrated pout on her face. "See?"

"That's really weird. I thought all frost and snow and wintry stuff listened to you?"

"Ah, but even we seasons have our limits. Sometimes nature takes its course and we let it do so. Mother Nature says that perhaps this is one of those times; perhaps nature is trying to tell us something."

"So why doesn't she just tell you straight up?"

"I think she's using it as a lesson. Anyway, I've started my nightly rounds here every day for the past few weeks, trying to see if I can make the frost go away, but nothing I do seems to work! So I looked closely at the pattern, and though the frost is mirroring the shapes of the wheat, there's a slight little group of curls that look quite similar to the pattern that usually resides within the frost in the Snowy Lands to the North of here."

"But it would only be doing that if the crops were on Northern holdings."

"Precisely. I think the current land holder is committing a spot of encroachment. I haven't had a chance to look further into it, but given the facts..."

"It seems likely the land Jerry's using for this year's harvest is actually in the North and not the East."

"Exactly. And I don't think Jerry knows this! I think the Lord here is trying to keep it on the down low." She squinted for a moment. "Leo? Zeo? Neo! That's the one. Bit of a prick, if I recall correctly."

Blaise snorted. "Checks out. He's always complaining about his holdings when we host court." Blaise rubbed his chin. "If he's trying to gain more land, he'll want to do it quietly and carefully. The royal surveyors are the best at their jobs. It would take quite a bit to trick them."

"Precisely. And! We are fairly close to the border right now! The town beyond here is a hub where denizens from both the North and East meet up, do business, and so on. If you played your pieces right, it could be a fairly easy point to start growing your holdings illicitly. Especially since the North is so sparsely populated."

Blaise continued to rub his chin. "That's a hefty accusation."

"Indeed. But it has merit. If you look at the other half of the field, the one that's closer to his farmstead, the crops there are all fine. Not a single bit of frost on there."

"Hmm. Interesting." Blaise stopped rubbing his chin. "I suppose I should go take a look." He smiled softly at her and held out an arm. "Walk with me?"

Winter blinked up at him in surprise. "Oh! Ah, certainly."

She carefully grabbed his arm, her cool touch frosting the burnished metal of his armour. Careful to weave between the rows (least they accidentally crush the wheat), they made their way over to the other side of the fields, where sure enough, not a smidgen of frost graced the stalks.

"See?"

"Huh. That's...okay. I mean. It's not okay, obviously, but I didn't think "land stealing conspiracy" would be on the list this fast."

"But you expected it?"

"It wouldn't of surprised me. At any rate, I'll have to work on this after the check in." He rubbed his chin again. "And I'll have to figure something out for the short term."

"Perhaps, in the interim, there's something I can do to help? I'm sure one of my sisters can move the wheat consequence free while you get this sorted. This way Jeremiah doesn't have any loss? Lady knows what Neo would do if he knew we were on to him."

Blaise's hand stilled. "Oh? You think your sisters would be able to do that?"

"Oh, please. They have this very strange soft spot for me. They would quite literally do anything for me."

"Even Spring?"

"...sometimes. And if not, I can be, ah, very persuasive."

Blaise laughed. "I believe it. Are you feeling okay?"

"Quite all right. Why do you ask?"

"Your hair is melting."

She flushed, her free hand reaching up and touching her very thawed roots. "Oh! Well. That happens sometimes."

"Oh?"

"Yours is literally on fire. And I've been near you for a good moment now."

"I see," Blaise replied. (He did not, in fact, see).

"I'm sure you do. Now, you don't think it's too late to talk to Jeremiah, do you? I'd like to apologize to him and let him know one of us seasons will be on it post haste. He and his family are probably asleep, though, aren't they?"

"We'll go take a gander. He said he'd been seeing you these past few nights, so I wouldn't be surprised if he was still up."

"Very well." Winter tightened her hold on his arm. "Lead the way."

Seconds after they came into view of the small house, Jeremiah popped out the back door, clicking it shut quietly behind him, candle in his hand. "Your Highness! And Your Snowiness!" Frazzled, he bowed twice, his hair nearly catching fire.

"Oh, no need for formality, really. It's much too late in the night for that. And pardon my intrusion. I hope I didn't wake you?"

"No, of course not your, uh. Season-y-ness."

"Just Winter is fine, please. Don't fret. Sorry for the crop fright. I've touched base with Prince Blaise," she gestured towards him, as though her hand wasn't still looped around his arm. "And we think we've figured out the issue. It's all a little hush hush right now, and we'd both appreciate your discretion."

"Of course. Whatever you need."

"Now! In the interim! About your crops! Unfortunately I cannot control the frost that seems to have made itself cozy in your fields. But! My sisters can control the wheat! I'll talk to them and we'll be by in the next week or so to move the crops over to a portion of land that is not being assailed by frost."

"Oh, well, that sounds nice and all, but the unplanted fields are to remain fallow this year, y'know, to replenish the soil and the. And the like." He scratched the top of his head nervously.

"Oh, I'm familiar with the idea, yes. Of course, my sisters are more well versed in it and my mother is, of course, the expert. We can take care of replenishing the soil just this once while we work on the frosty problem back there."

"Really?"

"Of course! Our duty is to maintain balance and help the people, sir. You are one of those people."

"But I'm just a farmer—"

"Ah, pish posh! You are a denizen of Crystal Springs same as any of us, castes be damned."

Blaise guffawed. Jeremiah blanched.

"Does that work for you, Jeremiah? And would your highness be alright with this arrangement?"

"I believe Jeremiah's fields actually supply the castle, too, so yes, absolutely. This'll give me some time to confer with the King and Queen and see if we can get to the bottom of the land issue."

"Then that's settled! Jeremiah, I will be in touch. You best be off now. It's late and you have kids, do you not?"

"Yes ma'am. Two. Very little, quite rambunctious. Give the wife and I a run for our money some days."

Winter laughed. "Then you best be getting some rest. Worry not." She placed a gentle hand on his forearm. "The Seasons and I will take care of your crop issue, okay?"

He nodded, stifling a yawn. "Yes ma'am."

"And really, just Winter is fine. Now then! Off you go!"

Nodding once more, Jeremiah turned around, letting out a proper yawn as he made his way back inside the house. The pair waited for a moment until the final light glowing in the back of the house went out.

Winter hummed. "That takes care of that, then."

"You are a very impressive woman. Have I ever told you that?"

"Haven't the foggiest," she lied, smiling up at him coyly. "I do apologize for taking charge their, ah, your highness."

"Pfft. Don't! Please. I…it’s nice to not have to be all formal and what have you. Can I escort you anywhere?"

"No, I best be off. I've only just started my rounds, you know! There's a whole half of the globe waiting for me tonight beyond these healing waters."

"Globe?"

"Yes. My job takes me all over it, Blaise."

"Huh. I guess it would, wouldn't it? I just...I never really thought about it, you know?"

Winter watched as Blaise looked thoughtful. Smiling to herself, she let out another little hum, tugging on the arm she still held captive. "Perhaps I can escort you to your lodgings for the night?"

"Oh, no need! But I'd ah, appreciate the fine company on the walk."

"Lead the way, then. And do elaborate, if you please."

"Elaborate? How?"

"You've never thought of the world beyond Crystal Springs? Ever? At all?"

They took the path that Pyros had trodden hours earlier, heading straight into the heart of the town instead of hanging the left to the tall purple tower in the distance, where the windows glowed with light, magic sparking right out the chimney. The Royal Guard patrolled the street, local guards in tow the closer they got to the centre.

"No. Never."

"Not ever?"

"Well...okay, maybe I'm a bit of a liar. I have thought about it. But I've been taught all my life that it's unsafe, y'know? As most of the people are taught. That ordibeings would hunt us for our magic again the moment we left the safety of the Springs. So I try not to think about it, and I try to enjoy the cross-continent trip here every time we're sent out. It's nice to remember that there are places, beautiful places that exist outside the castle walls. To remember why Pyros and I are doing what we're doing."

"And even more beautiful places exist outside the continent! Beyond the oceans and the icebergs. There are a whole different set of stars on the other side of the globe at night! It's amazing. It's beautiful."

"And dangerous."

"Sometimes, yes. But not as bad as it was during the Wild Magic era. Most ordibeings have their own set of beliefs and their own versions of magic; they don't really need ours. Oh, they have stories, of course. But to them, they are simply stories and I'd wager that were we to venture out of Crystal Springs...we'd be okay. I mean, my sisters and I are! So is my Mother, and we're out of the continent nightly practically! And the Legendary Figures, they're all quite all right, the ones who roam about."

"Yeah, but they're Legendary Figures!"

"So?"

"I mean...they have more power at their disposal; they don't need to worry when they go out. But we do. That's why we were brought here, right?"

"So the history books say. But that's the thing, Blaise. It's history. We're very stuck in some ancient ways here, when you think about it, and I know you do."

He was silent as they approached a cozy main street, taverns and inns still lit up for the night, though the music had ebbed and silence had descended.

"Look, Blaise. I go beyond the Springs and I'm not a Legendary Figure."

"But you're a season."

"And technically, so are you, you know. We're the same type of sprite! Seasonal as opposed to elemental."

"I know, but I wouldn't want to step on Summer's toes. I wouldn't be allowed to."

"Says who?"

"Who do you think?"

Winter scoffed. "Ah, they're old. Very stuck in the old ways. Sometimes I think that's a bad thing."

"...Sometimes I think so, too. I mean. Mom and Dad are all about power and they interlink it with safety all the time! And when we're out here, I don't have to think about all that! And Pyros stops thinking about it too and it's kinda nice, you know? I mean, they've been here and in power for thousands of years. To think the world is still the same is...insane!"

Winter laughed. "Tell me something, Blaise. Would you still sneak out for me?"

Blaise blinked. "Oh. Most definitely. Between you and me, your snowiness," he leaned in, close to her ear. "I hate being in the fucking castle all the time."

Winter laughed. "I can't believe the magic let you get away with that!"

"I'm that passionate about it! That's why I love these outings so much! I'm not in the castle and," they came to a stop, Blaise spinning her about as the guards in front of the nicest inn in the sector stood to attention and dutifully looked away. "I get to see lovely people like you."

"Well, maybe you should accompany me out one of these days."

"Out like out out? Like out there?"

Understanding the sudden need for less words, Winter nodded. "Oh yes."

Blaise paused, fighting back a grin. "I think I'd like that. A lot."

"Oh, brilliant!" Clearing her throat as the guards shifted, Winter stepped back. "Thank you for the escort, your highness," she said, dutifully casting her eyes down and curtsying most graciously.

"Of course, your snowiness. It was my pleasure," he replied, placing his arm across his chest and bowing back. "Be safe tonight."

"Of course. And good luck on your travels."

Nodding at one another (and biting back grins something fierce), Blaise watched as Winter turned on her heel expertly, fully thawed tresses bouncing about. She nodded most graciously to the royal guards (the few that had been giving the Prince a moment of privacy as best as they could clanking as they stood to attention, scrambling to salute) and disappeared on the spot, the smattering of snowflakes left in her wake drifting down his way.

He gazed goofily up the street, maybe for a bit too long, only coming to his senses when one of the guards beside him cleared his throat. Straightening up, he waved (the guards happily standing down) and walked up the path and into the inn as regal and posh as possible, only dropping the act and grinning to himself when he closed the door to the inn shut behind him.

"And at what time do you think this is? And looking like THAT?!?!? And WHAT is IN your ARMOUR?!!"

Blaise frowned in quite the over-dramatically grotesque manner, one eye squinting in distaste as he plucked a tiny bit of wheat out of his couter. He held it up in front of him, Marv an angry purple blur behind it.

"It would appear to be wheat, Marv."

"And why is there wheat in your armour?"

"Because I was doing my do diligence and investigating a wheat problem in the fields."

"Hmm." Folding a napkin, he got up gracefully, surveying the prince with an unamused look. "And are you sure you acquired it like that? And not, per chance, tousling around in fields with a certain high ranking season?"

Blaise glowered. His hair burnt taller and hotter. He flicked the wheat away, approaching Marv at his full height. "I would appreciate it, Marvin, if you would refrain from using such crude language when talking about any of the seasons."

"And I would appreciate it if you made it easy to be your steward."

Blaise rolled his eyes, hair dimming. "I'm not the one you should worry about, Marv." He stepped around the drow, heading towards the stairs. "You and I both know that." He paused by Marv's table, grabbing a bun from the small bowl of bread in front of him. "You're not staying up to wait for him, are you?"

"Indeed I am."

Blaise snorted, half chewed bread going flying. "He's not coming back here for the night."

"I beg your pardon?"

"He'll spend the night with the castor."

"No he will not."

"Yes he will." Blaise spun on his heel, clanking up the first two steps. "So you MIGHT AS WELL get some sleep. You're so grouchy when you don't."

Marv's undignified yell gave Blaise great satisfaction as he bounded up the stairs, polishing off his pilfered bread and ducking into his room (one of two heavily guarded doors). He chuckled to himself, throwing off the armour (the burnished metal casually floating itself into a neat pile) and the layers underneath until he was left in nothing but his briefs. He slid into bed, arms behind his head as he thought of the world outside the healing waters and well beyond the floating icebergs.

---

The morning dawned bright and early, as it was wont to do in the early fall. Outside, the grass was crisp; a fresh layer of frost slowly melting as the sunlight hit it.

Up and at 'em and fully armoured once more, Blaise bounded down the stairs, barely able to withhold his snort when he saw Marv snoring at his table, head on his arms. Carefully, he pried a napkin out from under the bread basket, conjuring a pencil and writing something down very fast. Satisfied, the pencil disappeared and Blaise crumpled the napkin in his fist, sliding up to the counter top and clearing his throat.

Marv shot up. "Gah! Your Highness!"

"Morning Marv! I guess he didn't come in last night, huh?"

Marv cleared his throat, stepping up and righting his table. With a wave of his hand, his robes straightened themselves out, his hair looking less bedhead-y and nice and neat. "I am…unsure."

"Mm. That checks out. Ah! Tilly!"

The barkeep let out a meep, rushing to curtsy. "How can I help ya, your highness?"

"I was just wondering if there was a washroom I could use down here." He glanced over at Marv surreptitiously. The Drow was distracted, talking to Kira, the chief of security. With a flick of his wrist, Blaise slid the crumpled napkin towards the barkeep, glancing down at it and back up at her.

Catching his gaze, she reached out and uncrumpled the napkin. Her eyes skimmed the words quickly, brightening as she finished reading the hastily scrawled message. "Ah! Of course! It's just behind the staircase! There's a hallway. Make a right, and it'll be right on the end."

Blaise grinned. "Thank you, Tilly."

She bobbed her head. "Of course!"

Chuckling to himself, Blaise grabbed the crumpled up napkin, crushing it up in his palm and reducing it to ash. He followed her instructions, grinning when he turned the corner and sure enough, there was the back exit, door wide open as staff brought in the groceries for the day.

Excusing himself politely, Blaise scrambled around the staff, ignoring the scrambly bobs as he looked up and down the street for any sign of his counterpart.

There was none.

Avoiding the front of the inn, Blaise put out his hair, blending in with the crowd as best as he could and reaching out with his mind.

He was close. Just coming down the path and turning towards the main street.

Blaise rushed past the taverns, turning up the street (briefly skidding), relieved when he saw Pyros coming down the path. His gaze was intensely focused on an object in his palm as he headed down the way, looking very, very dishevelled.

Hey. Hey. Hey. Look up.

Blinking, Pyros looked up, making eye contact with Blaise, who was grinning maniacally and waving boisterously, in Pyros's very humble opinion.

I didn't realize you could wave as loud as you could speak.

Blaise laughed, bounding up the street and coming to a stop beside Pyros, turning on his heel and falling into step. I am a sprite of many talents! He smirked, his hair lighting up with a soft whoosh. We have a problem.

We do?

Well, you do. Blaise cleared his throat, pointing to the bottom corner of his own mouth. "You got something there. What is that, Jam? Jelly? Ketchup? Dye?!"

"I've yet to wash up. Figured I could do that in whatever rooms Marvin secured for us and have a nice breakfast before getting down to business."

"Not to be confused with the business you have obviously already gotten down to."

Pyros glanced down at his outfit. It was...wrinkled; dishevelled. The, uh...dye (lip paint. It was 100% lip paint) was smudged on his face AND his hands, he realized, and Lady only knew where else! His outfit was covered in magical residue and glitter that seemed very not magical. "Okay, and? What's your point?"

"Marv knows you didn't come in last night. Your royal hinny is screwed and not in the fun way I imagine it to have been last night."

"I would appreciate it if you didn't imagine my royal hinny in any capacity whatsoever."

Blaise snickered. "It's not literal."

"Good."

"Thankfully! My royal hinny is very clever and very suave and snuck out to intercept you which thank the LADY I did because voila!" Blaise snapped his fingers, and Pyros was suddenly looking as pristine as he would've had he gone home and done his morning toilette before emerging for the day. "All fixed up, and now it'll simply look like we are walking back to town together, having gotten up to none shenanigans whatsoever last night."

Pyros flashed him a wry smile. "Really? None shenanigans? From you?"

"None whatsoever."

"That'll be the day. And oh, there he is. Right on time."

"Brace yourself. I already had my lecture. He's had all night to think of yours."

"WHERE have you BEEN!" Marv marched down the street, three guards behind him, Kira at his side. "I turn around for one second and you disappear—"

"Very unwise, Blaise."

"And YOU! I leave you alone for a night and you DON'T come HOME?!"

"I was busy!"

"Yeah you were. Grrrr—oof."

Blaise rubbed his stomach as Pyros retracted his arm, standing at full height and looking down his nose at Marvin. "As you were well aware, Marvin, we had a sticky—" (a pause for Blaise's snort and another whack, on the chest this time) "—situation to find a solution for. And since Blaise requested it to be non-lethal, it required a bit of an…intense magical research session."

"You could've sent a letter! A scry, a fireball literally ANYTHING! You are a prince! The both of you! If something happened to either of you that would be very very bad all around."

"Ah, please. We can handle ourselves."

"And if anyone did anything to Blaise short of killing him, they'd give him right back. Ten minutes, tops."

"They'd give you back in five."

"Is that a challenge?!"

"NO! There will be NO challenges of this particular sort!" Marvin pinched the bridge of his nose. "I am just looking out for the two of you. And if the both of you MUST mess about in the evenings at least elicit some decorum and for Goddess's sake let me know."

"Mess about?" Pyros raised an eyebrow at Blaise. "None shenanigans, eh?"

"None whatsoever."

"Hm. How's Winter doing?"

"Very well, thanks."

"Lady help me. At LEAST you are presentable, Prince Pyros."

Blaise flashed him a smug look. Pyros sighed. Thank you.

His twin grinned. Anytime.

"Feel better, Marv?"

"There is nothing short of an overnight stay at the springs that could make me feel better."

"We'll add it to the itinerary for you. So! Pyros! How'd it go?"

"Very well! We managed to isolate the sticky bit of the pygmys and extract it from them, reducing them to harmless little fluffy. Things. As for the sticky secretion, Prisma had the delightful idea to isolate it and use it to make a new kind of adhesive. She wants to test it first, so we only have the one at present.” He lifted the object in his hand—an unmarked tube. Also slightly covered in glitter. “She'll be joining us shortly to do just that."

"Where is she now?"

"Placing little sticky absorbing devices across town. This way, should the pygmys start secreting once more, the devices will use the magic we imbued within them to take it right off and store it."

"And the pygmys?"

"Can now bounce around no more harmful than, say, a tumbleweed or Blaise when you wake him up too late in the day."

"Hey!"

"He's right, your highness."

Blaise made an undignified sort of moaning and or groaning sound in his throat. "Whose side are you on here, Marv?"

"Mine. And it is a lonely, fruitless side, let me tell you. Now then. We've much to discuss and itinerary changes to make so, let's go eat and then go about our day. I shall have a setting put out for this castor of yours, Prince Pyros."

"Very good."

"Shall I set one for her snowiness, Prince Blaise?"

Now Pyros grumbled while Blaise held back a snort. "No, no. That, uh, won't be necessary. She'll be coming by at a later date to touch base with the tenant whose fields are frosting over. She's, uh, not joining us for breakfast." He scratched the back of his neck, sheepish.

Pyros smirked. “You’d like that though, wouldn’t you.”

“Immensely.”

“Shame we can’t switch.”

“Alas! She is a season, not a talented castor.”

Deciding against chiding the pair of them for their silly little banter, Marvin pressed his fingertips together. "Hmm. Very well. Come along, you two."

Clapping, Marvin set back towards the inn, hands behind his back, head held high. The detachment of guards that had surrounded him now surrounded the Twin Princes, ushering them forward while preventing them from backtracking or making any other attempts to escape and or engage in tomfoolery, as it were. After all, they had a schedule to keep. Rounds to continue on and issues to address. Being behind simply would not do. Not for Blaise, not for Pyros, not for Marv or any other members of the royal detail that'd been sent out to keep the peace, as it were.

---

Days later the Twin Princes found themselves once more shut into their carriage, both boys looking out the window with similar, thoughtful frowns. The carriage rumbled on, rain splattering the rooftop as the sun shone brightly.

Thoughts in faraway places well beyond the sun showery path before them, Blaise let out a melancholy sigh.

"Hmm. That's not good. You're usually rearing to get to the South."

"I do love me a good beach."

Pyros smiled to himself, glancing back out the window. Thunder rumbled in the distance.

He could ask mentally. Didn't even need to ask; could just pop on into his head and figure it out for himself. It's not like he blocked his end of their connection; neither of them did.

But it was a lot more fun to outright ask.

"Hey, Blaise."

"Mm."

"What're you thinking about?"

Success! His twin smiled through the hand pressed onto his face, the severity dropping and revealing the more carefree brother he was used to. "Land disputes. You?"

"Pygmys."

"Pygmys?"

"Pygmys. See, here's the thing." He leaned forward in his seat, hands folded between his knees. "The word pygmy is just that! A word! It usually denotes something smaller than the regular. And they used it to describe those small fluffy things."

"What would you call them instead?"

"Hmm. Don't know. Fluffs? Fuzzes? Fuzzies? Fuzzballs? Furries? Furbies?"

"I don't like that last one."

"Nor do I. Furby sounds like it could be a curse word. Like, a good and proper curse you'd cast, not a cuss word." He paused briefly, taping his nose. "Now, here's the thing. If the word pygmy denotes a smaller version of something, it begs a question."

Blaise dropped his hand from his face, giving Pyros his full, undivided attention. "Go on."

"If these pygmys are called that by the locals simply because they are small, is there a bigger pygmy? A giant pygmy to rule them all? A fuzzball the size of both of us?"

Blaise laughed, a right and proper loud laugh. "Maybe that's why they're so sticky? Maybe it's because they stick together and make a big ol' clump of fuzzball and THAT'S the one fuzzball to rule them all!"

Pyros lit up. "Ou! I didn't even think of that possibility! Now, IF that's the case, where is it? Where does it reside? What does it want? And should we find it?"

"Or will it find us..."

Now Pyros found himself snorting, the pair of them laughing up a storm to out storm the sun shower outside.

The carriage rumbled on, bringing the princes closer and closer to their next stop, their laughter echoing about the entourage. Guards perked up; Blaise's horse whinnied happily, trotting up to the window and trying his best to shove his little head into the carriage with them.

On the covered seat of the carriage, Kira chuckled, elbowing Marvin gently.

"You gotta admit. It's nice to see the two of them getting along and in such high spirits."

"Kira, if I admit that, I am sure it will be my downfall. I have a reputation to keep, you know. Lady only knows what'll happen if I destroy it. All my credit!"

She laughed. "Of course, of course. Goddess forbid."

She looked away, smiling to herself, because even Marvin could not hide the slight smile their jovial (and, quite frankly, very unbecoming of their station, if you asked him) hooting and hollering brought to his face.

[usairforcehistoricsociety]

[walkman-cat]

could I request something Davey?

ive had my star trek au on the brain wbwbwb so here’s davey in the au (he’s taking spot the cat off the bridge) (im so sorry it’s not regular davey wbwbw)

[cleowho]

“...you'd better listen to him...”

Silver Nemesis - season 25 - 1988