#so phoenix and her celebrated in belatedly. smile smile

[vesperosy]

a series of birthdays, ages 8-16

my illustration for @aatrucyzine. thanks for having me!!

[xxxdragonfucker69xxx]

Shadow knew of a cult that annually ate the flesh and organs of a still-living sacrifice, strapped to the table and screaming. He knew of a spell that allowed the living to eat with the dead, rotting flesh indistinguishable whether it was on diner or dinner. He had been to parties where ghosts, bound in soulsteel manacles, sang with distended throats in hymns to the Neverborn. He had sat at feasts where it was customary and polite to offer other attendees a piece of yourself.

Shadow wished, if only very briefly, to be at any of those again.

He was seated at the table of the Sanctuary, rearranged to be one long table covered with a thin white cloth. His seat was near one end of the table, crowded in among all the various members of the Deathknaves Society; currently he was sitting between Harvester and Cloud, making a rare appearance from her wanderings in the Threshold. Cloud's damnable banner kept waving in his face and threatening to smear in his food. In the corner, a group of ghosts was wailing something strangely percussive.

At the other end of the table, seated in a chair they'd heightened specifically for the occasion, sat the Seal of Unforgotten Kings. His spear rested against the side of the chair; a cake sat in front of him, covered in multicolored sugary paste. A paper cone sat on the Dusk Caste's head, proclaiming him to be the Birthday Boy.

There was a clicking sound from Desecration, who sat to his right. She had one of Lion's devices out, the flat side pointed at Seal, and it was flashing and clicking intermittently. "Smile," she ordered Seal, angling the device around. Seal glowered at her.

"Cake time," demanded Tower, who was sitting on Seal's other side. Tower had gotten very into the ritual after Star's disastrous celebration last month, insisting that there was a right way to do this and that it should be done that way. Shadow supposed he should thank Tower later, actually; the alcoholic beverages had been very reasonably rationed so far and all the furniture was still intact.

Seal stood and held out a hand, and all nine feet of his orichalcum spear flew into his hand. Raising it above his head, he paused for a moment, then hurled it at the table. In the foot or so between his hand and the table, it multiplied into a hundred spears raining down on the cake, the table around it, and narrowly avoided taking out Shadow's other eye. Shadow ducked, belatedly; when he raised his head back above the table, Seal was smirking, very pleased with himself. The cake sat in front of him, neatly divided into several portions, though the plate beneath was a mess.

As the cake was distributed and eaten -- flavored with vanilla, a taste Shadow had tasted only once before, which ought to have been a delicacy yet was somehow banal -- Shadow spotted Desecration and Star conferring in a corner, with a worrying gleam in their eyes. He nudged Harvester under the table; the other Daybreak nearly jumped out of his seat before composing himself and turning to face Shadow. Shadow nodded at the young Abyssals; Harvester looked over before returning Shadow's resigned look. "Here we go," he said in Old Realm.

Desecration clapped her hands and bustled forth from the corner. "All right, all right, clear the table," she ordered. "Eat your cake faster, I know you all have Resistance Charms. Iiiiit's present time! First off is, uh, me." She pulled a box from under the table; oblong, roughly twice as long as it was wide, the size of her forearm. She was smiling innocently, which in Shadow's opinion was cue to start evacuating a blast radius. "You may recall," Desecration began theatrically, while everyone stared at her, "a discussion we had some time ago. I'm glad to say that I've found a symbol of your most sacred soul."

Seal glared at her suspiciously. "What the fuck are you on about?" he hissed as he summoned Glorious First Light and hacked the box open. Then he stopped and stared at whatever was in the box. After a second, his gaze swiveled to Desecration, and Shadow thought she might be vaporized on the spot. "You traitor," he hissed.

"Well, Sheal?" Star piped up from the other side of Seal's chair, where he was perched like a bird. "Don'tch you wanna share wif the clash whatch you got?" Seal swung his glare towards Star, but slowly reached into the box and pulled out... a small grey animal, made of cloth.

"It's a seal," Desecration explained gleefully. "Get it? Seal? Like, you're a seal?"

"I'm gonna fucking kill you," Seal growled, but he set the stuffed seal aside. Shadow relaxed a little. He had to admit, it was not without comedic merit. Cloud came forth to present her fellow Dusk with a set of whetstones, from the master armorers of the Blessed Isle, and Shadow swore he saw moisture in Seal's eyes before Cloud leaned in to stage whisper to him, "Check the underside." She hastened to Des' side before Seal could process her words and stood there, stonefaced.

Seal lifted the whetstone reverently, hefting it to check the balance, before turning it over and promptly dropping it. "Not you too!" he gasped. Cloud's composed facade was cracking, but she managed to say "I don't know what you're talking about." Seal grabbed the whetstone and jabbed it in her direction, showing everyone the beautifully rendered seal engraved in calligraphic style. Cloud doubled over in laughter, clapping a hand on Desecration's shoulder to support herself. Out of the corner of his eye, Shadow saw the younger girl stumble and stammer a little.

As the procession of gifts went on, Seal's composure became even less restrained. Harvester gifted him with a breastplate made of seal-bones that clattered and sang; Tower gave him a crude wooden seal they had carved themselves (and a moment of emotion did flit across Seal's face then). Star gave him a painting in the Western style, of a seal that somehow had all of Seal's expression in its furious eyebrows. Shadow gave him a copy of the Thousand Correct Actions of the Upright Soldier, the same edition he had learned from in the temple; but judging by Seal's expression, Desecration and her cohorts had somehow managed to sneak a seal into his annotations. Even Phoenix (absent on pressing business in the East) managed to send a card filled with crudely drawn seals, each one reportedly drawn by his "talented assistants" and looking like they were made by five-year-olds who had never seen a seal before.

Finally the presents were exhausted, and Shadow thought he had never seen Seal look so relieved. "Sol fucking damn you all," he muttered, "I'm never fucking telling any of you bastards anything ever the hell again. Tower, what's next on the fucking list?"

Tower frowned. "Wait," they said. "I think something's missing. One, two, three.... where's Hours?"

And on cue, Hours burst in through the door, sopping wet and smelling of fish. "Sorry I am late!" the enormous man yelled, dragging something behind him. "Vas picking up birthday present!" And he grunted, hefted the thing over his shoulder, and slammed an actual live seal onto the table.

Seal stared at it. The seal writhed a little, knocking Star's half-eaten cake onto the floor. Seal looked up at Hours. Hours stared back at him, confused. "Vat I miss?" he said. Seal's anima burst into darkness.

+++SOME TIME LATER+++

For the second time in as many months, the Sanctuary looked like an explosion had gone off inside it.

The remaining Deathknaves were gathered around the wreckage of the table; Shadow had fixed some of the chairs, and dragged the refreshments table over amid the piles of splintered wood and plastic. Fishy-smelling gore covered every other surface, pooled in the carpet and dripping from the surface. The musician-ghosts had fled, leaving behind spectral instruments and sheet music. Harvester was ladling out bowls of seal stew, freshly made.

Hours scooted discreetly over to where Seal was glowering over his stew. "I did not know about seal joke," he whispered loudly. "Just thought you might like to fight mighty sea beast. Vas honest fun."

"I know," Seal said grumpily. After a moment, he added, "Thank you."

From her seat in the Shame Corner, far from Seal, Desecration smiled and high-fived Star. "See?" she said? "That's my gift. The power of friendship."

"Shut the fuck up," Seal said.

[an-anaemic-pen]

Project Phoenix Chapter 15

The Whole Truth

The Manifestation || The Power Play || The Green-Eyed Fly || The Middle of The Night || The Alternative || The Attic || The House || The God of Mischief || The Kill || The Night || The Collar || The Training || The Week Without A God of Mischief || The Routine

Summary: Kate’s a normal teenage Midgardian girl; except there’s a Loki in her attic, and now S.H.I.E.L.D.’s after her, and also, she has powers. Apparently, she’s meant to save the world.

She just wanted to finish school and maybe fall in love—at least she’s accomplishing one of those.

Relationships: Gen, F/M (Loki/Original Female Character)

Rating: M (Graphic Depictions of Violence, Underage if you squint bit—nothing occurs while characters are underage, Sexual Content)

Mood: Blizzard, SkyWorld

“I must tell you something.”

Kate looked worried. Damn her grey eyes. Damn her grey eyes straight to Hel.

“What is it?” She looked worried—no, scared, as she stood up.

Loki opened his mouth. He knew she wouldn’t have worked with him if he told her right away. He’d told her before, and it resulted in her killing herself. No, him killing her, even if he hadn’t made her jump off the bridge that night. “It is about S.H.I.E.L.D..”

“Is something wrong?”

“Not in the way you are probably thinking.” Loki didn’t know how to say it. He’d said it before, and it had made her commit suicide. Knowing it was a heavy burden, a burden of not only responsibility but also one that he knew would hurt her beyond repair. “It’s important, and you need to know it if we are to continue on.”

“Oh… okay.”

Norns, he didn’t want to do this. All he wanted to was to lay beside her on their bed back in Asgard as they had before. He particularly liked it when she thought he was asleep and would reach up and touch his face, trailing her finger along the skin and bones in exploration. There was something… curious about her when she did that, not childish, but inquisitive.

He could trust her, he always could, but she couldn’t trust him, and Loki knew she wouldn’t after he told her. “Perhaps you should sit down.” He began to move forward whether she wanted him to or not.

“Why?” Kate caught herself when he grabbed her by the upper arms and sat down on her bed. “Is it really that bad?”

“Yes.” Loki crouched down so he was on-level with her, even slightly lower than her.

Her worry only increased. He could see it from her posture—how her arms twitched the slightest bit, and her shoulders naturally rose to be held higher. Her face turned from concern to determination, but he could see the anxiety in her gaze. “I can take it.”

He doubted her. He knew what she would do; she would either shut him out and pretend to be unaffected or act as though he’d never said anything and not digest the information. Whichever was the outcome, it was bad.

Loki mentally took a deep breath. “S.H.I.E.L.D. isn’t exactly what I told you it was.”

She cocked her head the slightest bit like her little companion did when asked if he wanted a treat. “I don’t understand.”

He sighed. How was he supposed to put it into words? No amount of silvertongue could help him now; he’d wormed his way in and out of thousands of situations, but when he needed it most, it was gone. He’d trade those thousands of consequences for just a bit of help on how to break it to her. “I’m not who you think I am.” He shed the glamour and revealed himself. He didn’t exactly like that appearance, but it was how the ancient Norseman had pictured him, so it was how he’d shown himself to Kate.

He stood and paced the small room. “This is who I truly am.” He couldn’t meet her gaze. He couldn’t watch her die inside again. He’d done it too many times. She’d hide it with a smile just like the rest of the ill adolescents on Midgard.

Kate scoffed and rolled her eyes. “Yeah, right. You just happen to look exactly like a Midgardian celebrity.” Her hands sat in her lap, picking her nails.

Loki stopped. He looked at her chin. It was close to her eyes, but far enough away that he didn’t have to see them fade. “No, Kate, I am him.”

She smirked. “Well played, Loki, well played.” Her whole demeanor relaxed, and she casually leaned against her headboard. “You actually had me there for a second.”

He swallowed and closed his eyes. “I know my reputation, but I am telling you the truth.”

When he opened his eyes, her face had fallen. She sat up straight and put her bare feet on the floor. “What?” She shook her head. “Now I’m confused.”

“Now I’m confused.”

“I know it’s hard to explain—”

“Well, you better start right now.”

He could already feel her growing turmoil. “I am… supposed to be off-the-radar. S.H.I.E.L.D. is working on taking Asgardians out of the main view of the, as you call it, franchise, in order to stop from having to travel between realms for needed filming.”

Her own gaze fell to the floor. She blinked far more times than necessary. “So why are you here?”

He paced some more and opted not to answer her question. “After you were captured, your memory was wiped, and you became S.H.I.E.L.D.’s liaison between Midgard and Asgard. For the ease of the Asgardian people, we were married.”

She simply repeated what she’d said before. “Why are you here?”

He couldn’t possibly look at her, so he kept his head down. “I want you to remember who you truly are.”

“Then why’d you make me have powers?”

He noticed how calm she sounded—as if he wasn’t about to rent apart her entire reality—and he paced faster. “This is a controlled environment. I can train you to keep your abilities restricted unless use is necessary.”

She swallowed. “So… you lied to me?”

He stopped in front of her, crouching down again and taking her hands.

She pulled them away, and he let them slip from his grasp. “Yes, but I had to, otherwise—”

Her gaze snapped to him. “Look me in the eyes.”

He couldn’t.

“Look me in the eyes, and tell me you lied, Loki.” Her voice dripped venom.

She knew he could not look her in the eyes and lie.

Slowly, his gaze met hers. He’d expected rage, but he found instead a begging sort of hope. His heart—wherever it had come from—twisted in pain. It had not been venom on her tongue, but hope.

His lips created the words, but Loki did not understand what he was saying.

Then, there it was, the unadulterated fury, as hope shattered into tears. “I trusted you.”

He spoke with a tongue of lead. “I know.”

Why was she crying? He was the God of Lies, she should have expected it. And Kate was even beginning to miss him when he was gone. Dumbass, she scolded herself.

“Please, leave.” She’d meant to say it harshly, but her voice cracked, and she sounded more hurt than anything else.

“I will come back next week.” His hand reached up for a moment, almost as if to brush away the tears that were just about to fall down her cheek, but he hesitated and pulled back. He stood and walked out of her line of vision. When Kate picked her head up, he was gone.

She threw herself down on her pillow and let out a little sob. God, she was supposed to be an emotionless rock. She felt the same ache in her chest as she had when she’d seen herself die in Loki’s memories and it hurt.

She curled up. She didn’t know what to do with herself. What was she supposed to do? Nobody had betrayed her like that.

Nobody except Micheal, her unhelpful inner voice reminded.

Kate almost considered contacting him in spite of Loki, and it took her a moment to remember the predator was dead. She stood and hurled her pillow across the room in frustration. It deftly hit the wall and the light green barrier, still in place, glowed slightly.

Maybe she could overexert herself using her magic, and just die. That sounded nice. Heaven didn’t have any betrayers, did it?

There was some sort of twisted satisfaction at the idea of her death making Loki start his quest over again and, not being in her right mind, she opted to satisfy the urge.

Kate took a deep breath and focused, just like Loki had told her to. It was much easier to call upon her powers when she was experiencing such intense rage and, she realized belatedly, grief as well. She hadn’t known she was partially mourning the brother and kitten she’d never known.

The sound barrier was still up, so Kate screamed, releasing the most powerful blast she could manage. It left her palm with enough force to jettison her back into her desk. She hit her head against the wall rather hard; hard enough for her vision to shutter briefly, but not hard enough to knock her out.

The side of the room she’d fired at was now covered in a clear sheet of ice. It was almost like the way the world looked after getting blanketed with heavy snow, it melted a bit in the hot sun rays, then froze overnight to create a layer of slippery ice.

Kate stood, ignoring the throbbing in her head, and fired another blast. This one was noticeably weaker and her knees buckled under her own weight. She wiped away the tears on her cheeks and shivered in the sudden cold. The chilling ripple, which had been a stormy sea before, was now a trickling creek. As she cleared her eyes of the blur, Kate realized her fingers were blue.

They did not feel cold, or at least, not that cold.

She summoned the last of her strength and disregarded the blood dripping from her nose to her chapped lips. When had it become so dry? Kate realized she was panting quite heavily, but it was just another thing she ignored as she let the last of her energy creep into her fingers. She watched the frost form over her palm, light-headed as she made a tower of slush. She barely felt her half-numb body hit the floor as her eyes rolled back.

Her tower had been pretty.