#so when he finds out rook is trans and struggling with it which is why he's Like That he panics and gives him a gay ass mirror

[kirkwallguy]

my rook is so funny. extremely boring normal ex criminal who joined the wardens in his 30s to avoid going to prison. feels no alliance to his faction at all but is a little freak who enjoys taking orders so he does well. meets varric who instantly projects act 1 marcus onto him for no real reason other than they're both kind of assertive guys he has to work with and wants to fuck. has no idea who marcus is and assumes "hawke" is a recent ex varric isn't over. enters a weird situationship with him because hooking up with a weird older dwarf is more fun than being a warden. suddenly finds himself in charge at the lighthouse and starts acting like an old grizzled commander even though he and neve are like the same age. kind of wants to die so he doesn't care about anything that's happening but he'll see it through until the end because that's his Job.

[zayray030]

Maid for a day

Ace is having a shit week. His period came late, his cramps are worse, lessons are getting boring and harder and it seems like the world is against him. Shit can't get anymore worse until he finds out that he's going to be a maid in the Ostro Lounge

OR

Ace is trans, tired and wants a hug but instead is forced to be maid due to a deal between Azul and Riddle

Ship: Rook Hunt/Ace Trappola

Ace was having a shit week. First, his period had come late so he was dealing with the joy of figuring out what the fuck he had done to make the damn thing late and then he had also had to deal with the paranoia of it coming, especially with the stupid white pants he had to wear at his dorm.

And then when his period had arrived his cramps had quite literally tried to kill him and since his pride was a fucking bitch he hadn't gotten to the school nurse to grab some pain killers or even asked Crewel if he could brew a pain relief potion after class and he was severely regretting that choice whenever he felt his stomach try and die on him.

As well as the fact it seemed like the world had been out to get him ever since his period started. Classes have gotten harder and/or more boring so he always ended up falling asleep or doodling to pass the time and whenever his teachers tried to tell him off the best thing Ace could to avoid bursting into tears was to sass them as much as possible which had earned him a months worth of detention.

Jack had also been giving him the odd look here and there and had been wrinkling his nose. Ace was just grateful that the beastman had the tact to not comment on anything he couldn't confirm.

"Ugh!" Ace groaned, collapsing onto his bed and staring up at the ceiling, annoyed pout on his face as placed a hand on his stomach. "I can't wait for you to finish and things can go back to normal." He groaned before curling into the fetal position when he felt a strong pain happen in his abdomen.

'Let's just hope nothing else happens now.' He thought to himself in pain as he clutched his stomach and tried to wait out his cramps.

Oh how wrong he was.

****

Trey and Cater watched as their housewarden ranted and ranted over their mischievous first year, Ace Trappola.

"It's like he doesn't care for any consequences!" Riddle threw his hands up in the air in frustration, face red from rage at finding out that Ace had fallen asleep once again in Crewel's class and had then sassed the man when he had been given detention.

"C'mon Riddle-kun! I'm sure Acey-chan was just having a rough day! We all get those." Cater had tried to excuse, even though he knew that it was useless to try and calm down Riddle about Ace.

However, even he knew that Ace had been acting out more than usual lately and he couldn't help but feel worried for his favourite kouhai. Ace had been sleeping more in class and had been more irritable which led to more fights between him and Deuce and he had seemed extra paranoid whenever someone came up from behind and seemed to struggle breathing at random times

"I'll talk to Ace, Riddle. How about we just take a deep breath and try to think about something else." Trey soothed Riddle, always playing big brother. "I can even make you a tart-"

"A tart isn’t gonna fix shit, Trey!" Snapped Riddle, whirling around to glare furiously at his vice. Cater jumped back and winced, knowing that there was no point in trying to talk anything into Riddle at the moment with how badly his temper had gotten.

"He's always going to try to brat out, no matter whatever we do! And there is only so much we can do! If only there was a way that will make sure he doesn't brat out for a while and actually behave and take his studies seriously!"

Cater gulped quietly at the threatening air around Riddle and questioned why he had to go and make friends with Trey and get sucked into this craziness.

Just as he was about to make an excuse so he could escape being a target of Riddle's anger, an oily voice rang through to them.

"Ahh, it seems one of my fellow housewardens is in a bit of pickle. I would love to be of assistance!" And there emerged Azul with the leech twins flanking his sides, Floyd waving enthusiastically at them, and Jade with his hand on his chest smiling politely.

Dear Seven Cater hated his life.

"What do you want?" Snapped Riddle, in no mood to deal with the Octo trios shenanigans.

"So mean, Riddle-San!" And here I was merely offering a helping hand to your struggle. Why the paran-"

"Goldfish!" Floyd interrupted him running to harass Riddle but was stopped by his brother's hold on him.

"Now, now Floyd." Chided Jade "We can all see that Riddle is far too stressed with his own problems right now. I fear anything else will simply make him pop." The condescending look in his eyes gleamed and Cater feared that Trey would have to physically cold back Riddle from attacking the twins.

"Gentlemen! Don't be so rude to customers." Ordered Azul, hands on his hips before returning back to Riddle with a fake smile. "Now, from what we heard you seemed to be having trouble with your first year.

"And what concern is it of yours?" Snapped Riddle, not trusting Azul at all, not that one would blame him really.

"Well I simply think this would be an incredible opportunity for us all here." Azul smiled with all teeth.

"You see I've needed a new… attraction shall we say, and unfortunately nobody in my dorm has applied. In fact they still downright refused when Jade and Floyd asked them as well!"

"And crabby-chan has barely been coming to basketball practice so I can't bully him and when he does come he's a real bitch about it and nobody can stand him." Floyd added in his 2 cents and Cater felt his protective instincts rise within him at the bully comment.

"Don't bully my underclassmen." Snapped Riddle before a thoughtful look crossed his face and he turned to Azul, a curious look in his face. "What attraction are you talking about?"

"Oh, simply a maid dress."

"Huh?!" Exclaimed Cater and Trey in shock before returning to Riddle with looks that said "This is ridiculous." But much to their shock Riddle only adopted a happy smile.

"A maid dress you say?"

"Yes! I believe you teaching young Trappola a lesson using humiliation and me getting a new attraction will simply be the perfect deal here, no?" Azul asked, even though they all knew the answer.

"Yes it wo-"

"Riddle! You can't seriously be thinking about it?" Cater exclaimed, shock still written on his face.

"Cater is right, Riddle. I'll talk to him and we can-" Trey tried to talk some sense but was cut off.

"I'll sign your deal." Interrupted Riddle, a gleam in his eyes that told everyone he would not be dissuaded by notions such as the trust and loyalty that his underclassmen have for each other. It was time to fight fire with fire.

"Excellent." Azul smirked as he took out a document from his inside pocket and placed it on a table in front of Riddle. Riddle eagerly picked up a pen and sighed his signature on the document, a mad gleam still in his eyes. "It's a deal." And that was that.

Cater internally groaned and he had an inkling in his head that everything was going to go to shit.

***

"Pfft hahaha, great joke housewarden." Ace laughed at his unamused housewarden but he sat up from where he was on the couch when he noticed the pained looks on both Cater's and Trey's faces "You're joking, right?" He asked, fear shrouding his mind.

"Nope. Starting tomorrow you'll be working at the Ostro Lounge for a week in a maid dress." Riddle repeated so uncaringly one would think that he was a robot. "I would hope that would teach you a lesson."

"You can't do that!" Ace yelled, jumping up and hearing at his house warden.

"I think you'll find that I can." Replied Riddle simply, a smirk on his face.

"No! I refuse!" Protested Ace, a crack in his voice.

"Oh dear, you should have thought about that before you decided to misbehave oh so much. Good day and make sure to get a good night's sleep. You'll be needed at the Ostro Lounge at 7!"

And with that Riddle turned away flanked with Trey and Cater on both sides, the both of them sending Ace apologetic looks but the ginger ignored them and he turned and ran for his dorm and slammed the door shut.

He ran to hide bed and threw himself on it and hid his tears in his pillow and tried to muffle his sobs.

Fuck. Fuck. Fuck! This wasn't supposed to happen! He was supposed to have waited out the rest of the week and made it up for everyone by being on his best behaviour!

'Fuck it all too hell!' Ace thought angrily as he wiped his tears away and tried to steady his breathing.

He was Ace Trappola. He can handle a bunch of people being dicks to him, he just needed to return the energy tenfold and then they'd leave him the fuck alone.

But he couldn't deny the anxiety that was building up just at the thought of being the centre of attention, in a maid dress of all things, whilst he was in the most painful and dysphoric time of the month.

Fuck!

***

Ace desperately wanted to punch the little smirk on Azul's face as he walked into the Ostro Lounge and was welcomed by him and the Leech twins flagging either side of them, both of them with a look in their eyes that made him feel like caught prey.

"Ace-san! How wonderful of you to join us!" The housewarden spread his arms in welcome and Ace resisted the urge to break those arms.

"I hate you." He replied simply and if looks could kill Azul would have been dead 3 times over.

"Nehhhh~ Crabby-chan! You're so angry!" Floyd complained as he walked around Azul to throw his arms around Ace.

Ace thrashed in his arms before going limp and took a deep breath to stop the tears from coming.

'You can do this!' He thought to himself encouragingly.

"Ahh, Ace-san, it's too bad that you do but unfortunately we still have a busy day ahead of us! Jade, Floyd! Show our new worker his new uniform!" He snapped his fingers and immediately the two eels took both his arms and practically carried him to another door.

"Here you go Trappola-San." Jade said politely as he gave him the uniform but the look on his face was the most mocking he had seen in a while.

"Drop dead." He snapped and slammed the door in their faces.

He stumbled away from the door and collapsed on the floor and took a deep breath.

'C'mon Trappola. If you can deal with this shit in middle school then you can deal with it here. Nothings changed.'

However, he ignored the little voice in his head that yelled at him to stop being so prideful and to just tell them what the big issue was instead of escalating it.

Ahhh, this was going to be a long day.

***

"Well I don't think having to wear a dress requires such rudeness from our little maid."

"Oh whatever! Now, I can put crabby through the same hell he put me through in basketball! This is going to be so much fun!" Floyd punched the air in victory.

"Now, now." Azul came up to them. "Don't be too mean. We need this to be a success. If we have our little maid cry it could be bad for business."

"Not really." Jade interjected, a cunning smile on his face. "Many people would love to see Trappola-San taken down a few pegs, especially due to the past week."

"Yes, yes." Azul waved off his points away but his eyes shined in interest. "Right now let's make sure that both me and Riddle-san extract as much as we can from this deal."

The look that all three shared would have been enough for someone to call the police.

***

So far, his day has been shit.

After he had come out of the room the trio had all shared similar looks of amusement before assigning him the task of getting the plates ready for the Lounge opening.

He had bumped into some of the workers and the urge to cry had intensified when he had heard one of them comment "Shit, I hadn't even realised it was actually Trappola. I thought boss had hired an actual maid."

Ace had to take in a deep breath before he spiraled into despair and continued his way to finish his chores.

After that incident Ace tried his best to keep his head low but with constantly having to go to the bathroom to make sure that he hadn't accidentally leaked which had caused questions popping up and caused Floyd to be attached to him by his hip, constantly hovering over him threateningly and Ace had to resist the urge to cry.

'You only have a few hours and then you can go and cry and then rinse and repeat. Easy.' As well as easier said than done.

When Ace saw that his friends had come into the lounge he had been ready to just break down and cry. As if his day couldn't get any worse.

"The hell are you guys doing here?!" He demanded, glaring at them but they merely sent him condescending smirks.

"Well we believe that we are welcomed customers and guessed and that we were about to be served by a maid." Replied Deuce and Ace had to clench his fist tightly and grind his teeth before he did or said something that he would regret.

"You-"

"Ace-san!" And just like that the devil spawned behind him in the form of one Azul Ashengrotto. "What are you doing not serving our gracious guests! We apologise for our unruly maid!" He continued condescendingly, patting Ace's head like he was an unruly puppy and by god did he hate people.

"You…" Ace hissed, trailing off, pure hatred in his eyes as he glared at Azul before turning back to the first years. "Follow. Me." His words harsh and clipped.

The first years sent each other troubled looks before making their way to follow Ace and sitting at the table he had given them.

He handed then each a menu with more force than necessary and stared them down as they chose what to order.

They weren't going to lie, it felt mildly intimidating to have somebody who spent 90% of his time cracking jokes glaring down at you like you were worse than a big he had found on his shoe.

Finally, when they had all decided what they wanted they told Ace, but not without some choice words

"You truly do look like a girl, human!"

SLAM!

It was pindrop silence as continued collecting the rest of the menus and his notepad, as if he hadn't just slapped Sebek with one of them as hard as he possibly could. He simply gave them a smile that promised death and left with a "A moment." And stormed away, but not before slamming the kitchen door behind him loudly.

The first years stared after him in shock and mild disappointment that Ace had reacted this badly to being called a girl meanwhile Jack sniffed around, confused.

Odd. He swore he could have smelt blood.

***

Ace threw the notepad at one of the cooks before he stormed out to a storage room and collapsed in there and tried to work through his panic attack, which proved more difficult than normal due to the compression on his chest.

Maybe wearing his binder had not been the greatest idea but it had been a necessary one but now he ever so slightly regretted his decision.

'It's okay, it's okay! They don't know! It was just a simple joke that they had said to be assholes. Don't panic, don't panic. They probably only think worse of you than before.' Ace thought to himself as he tried to rock himself to calm down.

"Trappola-San." Jade's voice came from outside and Ace wanted to cry all over again. "Trappola-san, please come outside."

Across whimpered quietly to himself before standing up and wiping his face.

He opened the door to find the octro trio glaring at him but their looks changed when they gazed at his unkempt appearance and his blood shot eyes.

"Ace-san?" Azul asked but Ace pushed past him.

"Sorry, need to use the bathroom." And he didn't bother looking back."

He had to change out the toilet paper he had been forced to use and adjust his binder so he could breathe.

***

"You don't think this is going too far, Azul?" Floyd asked, his voice usually somber.

Azul hesitated, clearly wanting to agree with Floyd but his pride stopped him.

"Whether this is a good idea or not, there was an agreement between me and Riddle-san. We can not back out of it." He paused before adding on. "However I do think it'll be more efficient if we keep the comment to a low."

"Understood." The twins replied but a bad feeling settled in their guts.

Why did they feel as if everything was about to go to absolutely shit?

***

Ace carried on the rest of his maid duties without issues.

He avoided his friends, kept any small talk that customers had to a minimum and served everyone their food.

If only things could stay like that for the rest of the day.

Unfortunately, shit happened an hour before he could be free.

***

Riddle walked in the lounge, Cater, Trey and flanking either side of him.

'In and out and to make sure that Azul isn't trying to abuse his first year.' Riddle repeated the instructions to himself.

When he had woken up that morning and realised what he had done the day before he had wanted to die then and there.

'Stupid, stupid, stupid!' He had thought to himself. 'What kind of dorm leader does that?'

He knew he couldn't go to Azul and have it changed so now the next best thing to do was to try and apologise to the first year and hope he didn't hate him.

"Riddle, relax." Trey tries to calm him down. "Ace likes it when people own up to their mistakes. You'll be fine." But not even he sounded sure.

"Eh, I don't know. Being forced into a maid dress and forced to work for the most corrupt guys in school because I've had a pretty shitty week is quite traumatising." Commented Cater, eyes on his phone, tone disinterested.

Riddle heard an 'oof' come out of him and winced knowing that Trey's jabs could be painful.

"What Cater is trying to say." He turned to Riddle firmly, the three of them still making their way to the Ostro Lounge "Is that it might take Ace a while to forgive you but it will work out in the end."

"Thanks Trey." He told his friend and took in a deep breath when the three entered into Octavinelle only to run into a sight he never expected to see.

The dorm leaders and their vices, along with Silver were all gathered around the door.

"What are you all doing here?" He asked in shock as he stared at an irritated Leona.

"There was the whole shock wave that your little herbivore had managed to become Azul's little maid and Ruggie wanted to see it go down." Leona yawned, scratching the back of his head.

Ruggie smirked at them and shrugged at Riddle's glare.

"Karma." Jamil answered honestly, an evil smirk on his face. "And Kalim just followed." At least somebody didn't have evil intentions.

"Ace looks pretty, and I simply wanted to know how far that prettiness extended." Vil answered honestly and Rook nodded.

"Beauty is everywhere when it comes to young Trappola I see it everywhere."

Riddle shivered inwardly and made a mental note to inform Ace not to go near Rook in the future.

"I thought it would be fun if nii-san socialised more!" Out of respect for Idia's last bit of self respect and dignity they all pretended not to notice the others hair turning pink.

"I think it's a good idea for us to stretch out legs and Sebek even seemed interested in going here!" Lillia told him, a smile on his face.

'Yeah to make fun of Ace!" He thoight to himself but didn't voice it. Best to not cause a blood bath.

Riddle stared at them for a moment and then sighed, wondering why he ever thought that morals would exist within this school before moving to open the door to the lounge.

There he saw the first tear group shooting Ace looks from across the room whilst Ace took orders with a blank, sullen face.

"Yeah, no, I don't think he's forgiving you any time soon." Cater pointed it out, and Riddle turned to glare at him but sighed. He wasn't wrong now, was he?

"Okay, now we've seen the herbivore, I'm leaving."

"Oh no you don't." Ruggie pulled him back. "I'm hungry so you're paying for my meal." And he dragged him back inside, everyone else following through.

Ace turned at the commotion and looked visibly ill and Riddle felt a bad feeling in his gut grow.

"I don't like this." He said quietly.

"It'll be okay."

But would it?

***

Would breaking down really be all that bad? Sure, there was risk that he might get bullied for being 'soft' and that his friends might discover that he wasn't as strong as he lt on and his family might find out and try and get him to transfer but at the end of the day won't be just be able to take of the stupid dress and his binder and just put on a hoodie and watch movies for the rest of the day?

He held in yet another sigh and approached his senpais, ignoring the feeling in chest yet again that was telling him to take off the binder and to breathe.

"Hello, this is the menu, call when you're ready." He set the menus down on the table and turned to the kitchen when he heard his name being yelled out, not even bothering to acknowledge his housewarden who seemed like he wanted to say something.

"Umm, we made the meal for Table 5." One of the Octavinelle workers said and handed Ace a large tray.

Ace struggled under the weight but nonetheless delivered it.

"Here's your meal, I hope you enjoy." He tried to walk away but his hand was yanked back by Epel.

"We're sorry." The shorter boy told him, regret clear in his voice.

Ace stared at him, turned to look at the others and then shook him off.

"Whatever, I don't need your pity." He snapped and tried to walk away.

Tried.

Suddenly, he felt a sharp pain in his stomach and when he tried to breathe through it, it got trapped, the pressure in his chest finally winning and he felt himself collapse on the floor, struggling.

"Ace!" He heard his friends yell, but he couldn't tell which one, everything sounding distant in his ears and warbled, as if someone had stuck his head underwater.

He continued to thrash around, trying to find a way to breathe and get his binder of him but he couldn't focus and breathe and the last thing he heard was someone yelling "Fuck, why is there blood?"

***

Rook had smelt the scent of blood when Monsieur Heart had come near him and his concern for the younger had risen.

Truthfully, he had harboured a little interest in the first year when he had taught him the language of the hedgehogs and the younger had been able to master it after a few tries and ever since then he's looked at the first year from a distance, attempting to figure the younger out and how he was able to memorise things so greatly.

Admittedly, he had also found the first year gorgeous, with his lovely red eyes that seem to shine brighter than life itself, his gorgeous red hair and his flawless skin. He carried himself with grace, as if he wasn't going to let anyone stop him no matter what and Rook couldn't help but find that utterly adorable.

So he had noticed that instead of the normal graceful way the other held himself he seemed scared, paranoid, almost as if he was waiting for something to expose him.

He was walking around as if short in breathe and it seemed as is he wasn't the only one to notice so.

"Well he looks like utter shit." Roi du Leon said gracefully.

"Yeah, I've never seen the kid look that bad, even after basketball practice." And even Monsieur Multi seemed to be concerned.

"His vitals are extremely low." Ortho replied, robotic voice concerned.

Before anybody could ask how low they heard a loud crash and a scream.

There lay Monsieur Heart thrashing around, hands scraping at his chest as if trying to get something of him and the rest of the first years surrounding him. Ace was screaming as if he was being kicked a hundred times and the first years looked terrified.

Immediately, their table stood up and ran to the first years to try and help but then Roi du Leon had paused.

"Fuck, it smells like blood!" And the thrashing of young Monsieur Heart ceased, the younger passing out from the clear pain.

***

When Ace woke up it was to him wearing a hospital gown and in a hospital bed with chest not restrained and his friends surrounding him.

He blinked slowly, basking in the rare quiet, before he finally cleared his throat, alerting everyone that he was awake.

"Ace!" Deuce yelled, happiness in his voice and Ace felt mildly surprised.

"Yo." He replied shortly, before looking around confused. "So why am I here?"

"Because you had a panic attack and passed out." The nurse answered him, emerging out of fuck knows where and handed him a potion bottle find with a wierd looking liquid. "Crewel-sensei brewed this for you, drink it when your cramps get bad."

Ace felt himself freeze up as he accepted the bottle before he collapsed.

"Who knows?" He asked after a while, the nurse leaving and telling his friends to not overwhelm him.

"Us, the housewardens, the vices and Silver." Sebek answered truthfully.

"Um, Leona-senpai kinda yelled out why there was blood and everyone else just assumed that you had fallen and ended up scabbing yourself and when they delivered you here the nurse had to practically rip off your binder for you to breathe." Jack told him, scratching the back of his head.

"Don't worry! Everyone was sworn to secrecy! And from what we've heard Riddle-senpai and Azul-senpai got into massive trouble for making a contract without someone's consent so now they're forced to make the potions for you and clean up after as well!" And finally Epel came with the real good news.

"Ugh!" Ace groaned. "Months of managing to keep this a secret and I get screwed over by a panic attack?!"

"Well, I mean, if nobody noticed then you truly are the manliness of men!"

"The hell are you on about loocey Deucey?"

"He's right!" Sebek yelled and Ace winced. "You've managed to keep a secret so well and nobody questioned your identity once! Be proud of what you've done to fool a school full of sharks!" And when Ace sat up to look at them they all had sparkly eyes.

"If one of you dares hug me I will decapitate you." He threatened but that did nothing to stop the group hug he was pulled into.

He yelled but there was no use, they all had a tight hold on bin and eventually he accepted his fate and tried to cover his burning face in their neck.

"Dumbass's." He whispered but there wasn't his usual bite.

"Well isn't this beautiful!" The first years all jumped comically when they heard an extremely loud voice come from the door and there stood their senpais.

"Monsieur Heart!" Rook yelled. He sauntered over to them and deposited a box on his lap. "Seeing you collapse and thrash around there, oh my heart could just not take it!"

Ace stared at his upperclassmen and then turned to Vil and Epel, both of them just shaking their heads.

Ace sighed but nonetheless opened the box that his eccentric senpai gave him and gasped in delight.

"You're my new favourite senpai!" He yelled loudly as he took a chocolate plopped into his mouth, immediately savouring the food that he had been craving since forever, completely missing the look of adoration on Rook's face.

"I'm the one who carried you here, brat!" Snapped Leona.

"So could anyone else, I don't weigh shit."

"Alright enough, yelling! My patient still needs his rest, shoo." The nurse came in at the loud voices, shooting them all a glare.

They all groaned and begged but eventually left, Cater slipping his phone to him.

Ace sighed as he revelled in the quiet, laying on his bed quietly.

He smiled to himself as he took another chocolate and ate it.

Turns out having people who care for you isn't so bad.

[clansayeed]

Bound by Circumstance ― Chapter 8: The Tower Upright

PAIRING: Nik Ryder x trans*M!MC (Taylor Hunter) RATING: Mature

⥼ MASTERLIST ⥽

⥼ Bound by Circumstance ⥽

Taylor Hunter (MC) has made it good for himself in New Orleans; turns out moving to a new city fresh out of college to reinvent yourself isn’t as hard as people make it out to be. Things only start to get confusing when he finds himself the target of a malevolent wraith. Good thing someone’s looking out for him though — because without Nighthunter Nik Ryder as his bodyguard he definitely won’t survive long in the twisting darkness of the supernatural underworld he’s tripped into.

Bound by Circumstance and the rest of the Oblivion Bound series is an ongoing dramatic retelling project of the book Nightbound and the rest of the Bloodbound series. Find out more [HERE].

Note: Circumstance only loosely follows the events and plotline of Nightbound, and features a separate antagonist, different character motivations, and further worldbuilding.

*Let me know if you would like to be added to the Circumstance/series tag list!

⥼ Chapter Summary ⥽

Ryder and Taylor head to local out-of-the-way voodoo vendor Laveau’s for the final ingredient in their protection ritual. While he waits, Taylor gets his fortune told by the real deal—a spirit medium descended from Marie herself.

[READ IT ON AO3]

Krom’s barely through the threshold before Taylor pounces; hovers around him comically short and buzzing like a gnat.

“So, what did they say? Do I need to call — I don’t have my phone, shit — please tell me I’m not cut from the show.”

Luckily the stone troll looks freaked-out enough to get him to stop and apologize. “Sorry,” he mutters, “I just…”

“No, no I completely understand!” Krom scratches the tips of his head and laughs it off, “I just didn’t want to step on you.”

“He’s not that short.” calls Ivy from her booth at the back.

Taylor shrugs it off. “But I appreciate it.”

“Anyway; the company manager’s a little mad no one could reach you but I convinced them to give you a week of sick leave? Even though there was this one weirdly giddy guy…”

They join Ivy on either side. Taylor groans and rubs his hand over his face.

“That would be Antoni. He doesn’t matter. I really appreciate you doing this for me, Krom.”

“It’s no trouble!” And the troll’s voice is so filled with sincerity he has no trouble believing it.

“That’s our darling Krom.” Garrus returns behind the bar with his tray of collected dirty steins and beer glasses. “He’s like an angel; always helping others. You’ve got nothing to prove sweetheart — you know that.”

Ivy answers Taylor’s question before he even has the chance to ask it; “Stone trolls have a bit of a rep’ around here. You saw their natural element at Persephone.”

“Bodyguards, hired muscle, and the like.” Krom agrees; pointedly trying to keep his voice his usual baritone despite Garrus’ casual compliments.

“So you’re a pacifist?”

“In the flesh — so to speak.”

There’s a thud from behind and all eyes turn to see a stack of crates stumbling out from behind the back room curtain. Not hovering in midair as Taylor originally thought but carried by a very red-faced Cal. Who still forces on a smile through his gritted teeth at Garrus.

“Where… where?”

The fae gestures with a bony finger. “Just leave ‘em behind here. I’ll unpack before the evening rush.”

He slams them down before Taylor can even try to offer help — grumbles under his breath about something he can’t quite catch but he knows Cal’s grateful to Garrus for giving him a place to stay. He must be paying off the stupor he drank himself into following their return as less-than-triumphant heroes.

“I should start taking in strays more often — pun not intended,” Garrus teases but all in good humor; especially when he slides a cool glass of water for Cal to chug when his hands are free, “someone to do the heavy lifting around here and all that.”

Krom shifts in his seat. Something so subtle only the two beside him notice it. But Ivy doesn’t give him the chance to let it go and kicks his rock of a leg with her heels.

“I — I could help with whatever you need, Garrus?” Even though it comes out as more of a question than anything.

The look the two exchange is strange but fond. Garrus’ eyes softening under the twinkling lights. Maybe he regrets what he said — or the implications behind it.

“But if you’re laboring around here then what would I have to look at for inspiration?”

Not the smoothest save, in Taylor’s opinion. But Krom acts like it’s the highest form of praise and brushes the compliment off with a wave.

“Are they always like this?” Taylor whispers to Ivy. The revenant just sighs and nods. A long-suffering struggle on her end no doubt.

Heavy footfalls on metal steps herald Ryder’s arrival from the apartments above. He looks around and beelines towards Taylor in a way that almost has him jumping and hiding.

“You, me; let’s go.”

“That’s not how you ask a man out on a date, Nik.” chides Ivy as she pushes the mortals together.

“What?” He blinks; shakes himself out of whatever thoughts compelled him to seek Taylor out. “Wh — shut up, Iv’.”

“Right,” she winks, “he’ll go with you anyway. It’s part of your brutish charm.”

“Shut up, Iv’.” Taylor parrots with a glare. “Is the spell finally ready?”

Not that he’s not enjoying his time at the Shift. And following the disaster that was the Bayou and Persephone he’s not exactly eager to go into other supernatural spaces any time soon.

But he’s never been one to stay cooped up for long.

Ryder huffs. “Not quite. Damn toad wart expired. Luckily though there’s a shop down the road that carries simple ingredients — so put away that grin Iv’. I’m done owin’ you for now.”

Probably a good thing judging by the low witchy cackle she gives instead.

“So let’s get goin’, hustle hustle.”

“But wait — is it safe?” Taylor follows anyway. Keeping at the Nighthunter’s heels is practically his new job. “You didn’t even want me leaving for the theater.”

“I’ll be right there.”

“With your hallelujah arrows, right?”

“Holy light arrows, Rook. You sound like an idiot when you say that.”

“Well now I’ll keep doing it to piss you off.”

“‘Course, because why would you do anything else?”

Their bickering continues out onto the ruins of another day of Mardi Gras fun. At least some things never lose a sense of normalcy.

It’s a small shop — one of those ‘blink and you’ll miss it’ types. The shop name LAVEAU’s is hand-painted above a doorway embellished with the classic purple, green, and golden plastic beads of the season’s parties.

Taylor stops Ryder before he opens the door. “‘Laveau’s’ like…?”

“Read the signs, Rook.”

There they are clear as day; painted by the same hand as the top sign but with an artist’s frustration behind every black-painted stroke. One on the door declaring ‘Yes, like Marie herself’ and then one blue-tacked beneath it; ‘Not Affiliated with Marie Laveau’s House of Voodoo.’

“Oh. Got it.”

While the outside may lack the flair and panache that attracts the usual tourist crowds the inside is a whole other looking glass. Probably looks the way it does to differentiate between those who want fake dolls to poke with pins and those who want a real hex to mess with.

God, he’s talking about real hexes. When had this become his life?

Together they weave through the cluttered mess of uneven shelves and their uneven products. Books stacked flat where they’d fallen over at some point and left that way with little concern. A bundle of glass-looking orbs balancing precariously without cradle to keep them from rolling off the edge. A plant hanger in the middle of the room holds a pile of sage sticks just there. At second glance some look a little used.

The back ‘counter’ isn’t even that. It’s a folding table with a frayed tablecloth unevenly distributed atop and an old and rusting register in the corner.

First Taylor sees the joint resting in an ash tray made out of a mason jar lid. Only when it’s picked up and placed between two pink lips does he realize the man sitting kiddie-corner to the till.

“Welcome, wayward souls, to another side of the witch you know,” he recites as if from a script; monotone — doing everything he can to dissuade those who might darken his doorstep, “everything you see is one hundred percent bona fide authentic to the craft. Don’t do the rhyme if you can’t do the wiccan time.”

Ryder stops abruptly. Arms folded and a raised eyebrow looking over the pile of scattered tarot cards strewn across the table. That which holds the proprietor’s attention more than customers.

Unbidden he reaches out and plucks a card at random. Turns it over to stare at glittering golden words ‘The Emperor’ upside-down.

There’s no way the shop owner should know what card was grabbed — not like he can see though the matte black backing — but he gives a low and throaty chuckle. Lets smoke billow in a thin stream around the same lips now curled in a smirk.

“You always picked predictably, Ryder.”

Ryder who frisbees the card back onto the table carelessly. “I’m not still unconvinced you don’t set me up every time, Luc.”

“For all the shit you see…”

“I’ll always be skeptical of some damn cards, yeah. What else is new?”

“Good question.”

Luc finally drags his gaze up and away from his reading. Gives Ryder an easy and lazy smile that might possibly be the friendliest greeting to the Nighthunter Taylor’s seen so far. Had he not joined Ivy in teasing Krom only a short while ago he might have run himself ragged trying to understand the electric connection he’s witness to.

There’s definitely a history here.

Ryder sighs; knows Luc isn’t going to answer him until he answers himself. “The usual, man. Another day another job. Not much changes for me.”

“That’s not what I hear. In fact — I hear quite the opposite.”

“Sure those aren’t just voices from a bad trip?”

Luc laughs and kicks himself up to balance on the back two legs of his chair. Teeters dangerously close to falling backwards. “Could be, brother, could be. But I ain’t talkin’ ‘bout the spiritual radio this time. Everyone who’s anyone heard tell of a gutsy break-in among the city’s most elite. And all the chaos that followed.”

Ryder’s teeth grind together; his brow gives an almost imperceptible twitch.

“What did I tell you about listenin’ to the rumor mill, Luc?”

“Are they wrong?”

Not giving an answer is answer enough. Makes Luc give a haughty grin so wide Taylor likens him to a shark.

“I said what I said; another day, another job. It got me a rare ingredient I needed. I figured I could get the rest from your sorry ass if I could get you to look away from that damn deck long enough to ring me up.”

Luc makes everything look easy; from getting on Ryder’s bad side to letting his chair fall forward so he can stand. Like he’s not moving through air and gravity but dancing through deep watery depths.

But there’s a defensive edge to his voice — the first emotion beyond amusement — as he starts to gather up his cards.

“I’ll have you know I’m fond of this deck in particular. They were given to me as an apology from someone who never apologizes.”

“Oh yeah, what for?” Judging by Ryder’s tone, though, he already knows.

Still he lets Luc’s bright hazel eyes bore into his soul.

“Skippin’ out come dawn without so much as an adieu.”

Taylor laughs because, well, it’s funny? Only to quickly realize it’s not the right thing to be doing when he catches the strange look Ryder throws back at him; halfway and in profile — like he stops himself before he can make it a whole confrontation.

The teasing’s gone, now. “Yeah — listen, any chance I still have that standing credit here? I need frog warts and a few other things for a protection spell.”

“Ain’t like you to run around on an empty wallet.”

“Yeah, well… this job ain’t just another.”

And as ‘Another Job’ Taylor kind of takes offense to it.

Luc jerks his head towards a doorway shrouded with a curtain of thick wooden beads and the occasional bird feather. “You know where the stores are, cher. Just consider ya’self lucky Mardi Gras is a prosperous time for us all.”

“You’re a lifesaver, Luca. And if it makes you feel better the life you’re savin’ ain’t even mine.”

Taylor’s a step behind his heels when Ryder turns and keeps him at bay with a palm to his chest. His heartbeat stutters; spandex yielding to the firm press, but Ryder says nothing of it.

“Stay up here.”

Taylor scoffs. “Why? I’m not going to accidentally cast a spell or anything.”

“Maybe not, but the last thing I need is you gettin’ clumsy on the wrong object and fuckin’ us both even deeper.”

While he fumbles for a retort worthy of the witty comeback, though, Ryder makes his escape. Calls back; “don’t touch anything, don’t look at anything — and don’t let him suck you up in that damn deck!” before he’s gone in a clatter of beads.

They both know he’s not going to listen — he only says it so he can tell Taylor off when something inevitably happens. That seems to be how they function. Not that he plans on flailing his arms and messing with the first thing he hits, but…

“Since you ain’t dead I’m gonna assume Ryder’s not takin’ on the role’a teacher of the nighthunting arts.”

Snaps Taylor’s attention back to Luc; back in his chair and shuffling the deck in long and ring-adorned fingers.

“No.”

“Good. You might just stay alive then.”

“Apparently that’s a hard thing to do so, sure.”

Luc gestures to the chair across from him. It’s an offer, not a demand, but out of spite for Ryder’s twenty different moods — follow me, don’t follow me, around and around again — he takes it up. Watches Luc shuffle and reshuffle with naught but the soft collision of the cards as music.

When he realizes Ryder’s going to take his time, he figures the best way to start might be an introduction.

“I’m —”

“Pick a few cards for me, Taylor.”

He hadn’t even realized the man had started a spread; each card turned down and black as the void in a soft arc reaching out to him across the table.

Luc is courteous enough not to blow smoke in his face. Sits back slightly hunched and letting his focus flicker between Taylor and the cards. Like both are equally likely to speak to him in the silence.

“It’s probably useless asking how you knew my name, huh?”

“Smart boy. Sometimes they whisper an’ sometimes they scream, but I gotta say it’s been a good long while since I heard the cards call out the way they do to you, Taylor Hunter.

“So help me out here. Pick a few and let them show us why they’re so damn chatty.”

He wants to point out that the only chatty one around is Luca himself, but again that’s one of those useless things he’s finally starting to come to terms with. Knows another useless thing would be to ask why he can’t hear anything… but that’s because hearing is the only word he can think to describe it too.

They’re cards — just plain tarot cards. But like inky tendrils they’re reaching out to him across the table on another plane of reality. One where they have soft black fingers that wrap around his wrists and bring his hands to hover over them. Like safety.

Ryder said… “Well, Ryder said…”

The look Luc gives him cuts him off. Yeah, that was a bit of a stretch, wasn’t it?

He points at random; watches Luc pull a card out without flipping it over. Keeps going until a curt nod cuts him off and nine rectangles of shadow form a square across from him.

“This ain’t your average reading,” that much being obvious by the reverent way the shopkeep looks down at his selection, “and I ain’t your average reader. You’re not from around here.”

“Are you asking?”

“No. But I figure that means you did what all newcomers do — got yourself one of those back room phony shows at the House of Voodoo.”

He wants to say he hasn’t only for how ashamed Luc’s tone makes him feel about it. But yeah — yeah he had. Doesn’t remember much about the event itself but knows somewhere buried in the clutter of his desk back at his place there’s a piece of paper from whatever the alleged ‘psychic’ had him ask.

Luc nods slowly. “Mmhm. Sometimes — ‘bout as oft’n as pigs fly — the cards they play don’t listen and give out an ounce of truth. Nothing life-changing, but a slip enough to tempt the handler into believing.

“You won’t get none’a that here. Whatever’s shown when I flip these babies around has been, is, or will be whether you know it or not. But they only tell as much of a tale as you’re ready to hear.”

The unasked question: are you ready to hear it? And Taylor isn’t sure he knows how to answer.

He knows a lot about himself; inside and out. Has lived through too much and shoved too much inside for too long not to. It’s something he’s proud of. A lot of people spend their lives with no understanding of their inner self but he’s never had that problem.

But there’s a difference between knowing it and seeing… whatever these cards might show him.

What if what he knows isn’t what they say?

Life would be easier if Ryder took that opportune moment to reappear and save him the trouble of having to make the choice.

But life isn’t easy.

He nods — but before Luc can flip over the first card he reaches out and stops him.

“I’m not, like, sealing a deal with a demon or something, am I?” Judging by the look he gets he really shouldn’t have asked.

“Do I look like a demon?”

“I don’t know what demons look like.” He knows it’s a lie but says it anyway; can think only of that skeletal face sneering at him under the moonlight.

Luckily it’s not enough to deter the shopkeep who just bats Taylor’s hand away. “Judgin’ by your ghostly pallor I’m gonna call your fib on that one. But if it eases ya mind; no. No deals here. I get as much outta this as you do.”

Well that’s okay then, isn’t it?

Luc flips the first card over and has himself a little laugh. And why wouldn’t he — The Fool isn’t just an apt card but an apt description.

Taylor’s humor is, however, short-lived. “Seriously?”

“You drew the card. Only one to blame is you.”

“So I’m gonna be even more of a joke in my future or something?”

Luc shakes his head; spreads his fingers as far as they’ll go as the shadow of his palm casts over the center card. “This ain’t your future, but your self. This is you, Mister Hunter.”

“A fool.”

“A man of innocence,” comes the quick correction, “and oftentimes a free spirit. You do your own thing; march to your own drum. Ev’ry Sally and Joe likes to laugh at the Fool but he’s got his eyes set on the horizon and that’s worth admirin’. So don’t sell him — or ya’self — short.”

Innocent — not quite. But the rest Taylor doesn’t disagree with. Seems he knows himself as well as he thought.

Luc’s painted nail traces along a jagged line on the image. “But see here; the Fool stands at the cliff’s edge. He’s a card so it ain’t in his nature to look anywhere but where he’s told but you’re not a card, are ya?”

“What do you mean?”

“Are you lookin’ forward at the horizon or down into that abyss,” — he flips over another card before Taylor can answer — “or maybe you see the Tower on the other side.”

The Tower card is actually at the Fool’s back but he’s learned enough now not to question the metaphors.

“All that love for life might come at a cost. An’ hey — maybe it’s one you’re willin’ to pay. I don’t judge.”

No matter how hard he looks he knows he isn’t going to see the same thing as his reader. But… “I’m gonna need you to be a little less cryptic and a little more straightforward.”

“This ain’t science. Everything’s up for interpretation when the cards are involved.”

“Okay so interpret what exactly you mean by a cost. What cost?”

His rings drum on the plastic surface slowly before Luc clicks his tongue. “Looks to me like you’ve been through some shit lately. Life-changin’ shit — shit that skips right over dippin’ a toe into destiny and pushes you right in the deep end tied to an anchor — or ten.”

Finally Luc looks back up but his gaze is guarded; carefully and excellently so. He can’t get a thing out of just a look.

“I could have told you that.” He mutters a defensive reply. “A couple of days ago everything was fine and then my best friend’s in a coma, I find out the shit I’ve been hallucinating my whole life is real, and on top of it some big scary Ugly wants my skinny ass for a meal.”

“That explains our friend Ryder, then.” Luc almost seems to peek at the row’s last hidden card. When he turns the Eight of Cups over the hum he hums reminds Taylor of endless weeks of therapists and their noncommittal noises failing to cover the scratching of pen on paper. “And it’s all a helluva lot, I bet.”

It’s a bit hard to play off the full-body adjustment to hide his discomfort but Taylor likes to think he pulls it off pretty well.

“Understatement of the century.”

“Makes a world ‘a sense. You’ve tried gettin’ away from it.”

“Actually I haven’t really had the time.”

Only Luc disagrees; shakes his head curtly and offers the Cups to Taylor like it’s written on the surface in plain sight. “The cards ain’t just talkin’ ‘round the physical. Sometimes we do all the runnin’ in our minds and we don’t even know it. It could be as simple as connecting new things in ya life to old ones and convincing ya’self they’re the same; whether they are or not.”

Oh, there it is — on the surface and in plain sight. Struggling for Cal and Donny. Taking blame for what happened (not that he’d tell Cal, he’s got enough to feel bad over). Jumping down Krom’s throat about the theater company.

“Don’t beat ya’self up too bad,” continues Luc in a way that makes him freeze in the sudden fear that he can read thoughts as well as tarot cards, “a little escapism is good for the soul. The hard part’s when you gotta come back to reality an’ doin’ it without a fight.”

Taylor offers the card back and watches it settle home beside the Fool. The same Fool he’s now a little reluctant to identify with so quickly. “Yeah. I guess.”

“Got it — now cut the ramblin’; you’re talkin’ over the cards.”

Only hasn’t he been the one doing all the talking? Arguing won’t help but that little nugget of petulance persists.

This time Luc reveals three cards one after the other. Makes sure to let each one rest face-up before moving on. Letting them breathe. Letting them speak.

Strength. The Hermit. The Two of Swords. The first two facing Taylor this time as if in judgment. No; they haven’t drawn that card just yet.

He realizes he’s waiting on bated breath when his lungs start to burn and beg for fresh air. Why is he so quiet all of a sudden?

“Tell me more about those hallucinations ya mentioned, Taylor.”

That’s not where he was expecting that to go at all; catches him off guard. “Sorry?”

“Don’t be,” but the other man sounds distant; lost in his thoughts, “jus’ tell me. Said you been seein’ things ‘your whole life’ right?”

“Yeah. But I’d really rather not, uh, go into…” Wasn’t his life story down on the cards? It was hard enough explaining everything to Kristin — and they knew things about one another bound to secrecy by the sanctity of roommate-dom. So he tries to keep it all in the realm of the reading; “I mean I know what they are now. I was seeing glamours. Like through them — without a charm or spell or whatever. I dunno, Nik can explain it better.”

When Luc doesn’t give the same shocked jaw-drop the trio at the Shift had he entertains the brief hope that the same talent runs through the psychic’s veins. But that’s dashed when he catches sight of the unconscious way Luc grabs onto one of the numerous stone pendants draped over his neck — the way he thumbs over the polished surface and tugs on the leather cord.

It’s not the same one Ryder has but pretty damn close; close enough to assume his glamour-charm used to have a home in this very shop.

“That kind-a inner sight’s awful rare.” He practically mumbles.

“Yeah, it’s been mentioned.”

“Not unheard of, mind you. Not in things that ain’t entirely mortal by blood and bone. When you draw Strength in reverse it’s not the opposite like you’d think; it ain’t sayin’ you lack strength.

“Think of it more like the meanin’ is just turned about. Upright’s outside and the other is inside.”

“So it’s inner strength.” He can get behind that.

“Or lack of it.”

I’m fucking sorry? “Who—what-now?”

“This row,” he gestures a little too grandly for the subject matter, “is your past, present, and future. I told you the cards were screamin’ — and they still are — but not this one,” — not Strength — “this’un’s more of a whisper. And it makes sense given that you called ‘em ‘hallucinations.’”

“And an explanation for us ‘card’-of-hearing?”

Luc bites his tongue — really and without metaphor; wince and all. Grabs a stray bit of crumpled receipt from god-knows when his last sale was and scribbles on it in blocky letters.

“‘Note to self,’” he enunciates his writing harshly, “‘add sign to shop: ‘Owner Has the Right to Refuse Service on Account of Shitty Fucking Puns.’”

The glare that follows tells Taylor it won’t be long before that sign has his name added to avoid confusion.

No regrets. None at all.

Puns aside, though? The level eye he gets across the cards takes a turn for the serious.

“I think it tells me a lot more than you’re ready to share. About ya life before this; about the things you done to make the pain go away. Some of us may be human but that don’t mean we ain’t still animals. And animals lash out when they’re scared.”

He’s right. It’s a lot more than Taylor’s ready to share. Makes him want to scramble the deck — flip the table on its end. And maybe the old version of him, the version in those cards, might have.

In his silence Luc gets the answer — “moving on…” he almost sing-songs — lets his fingertips dance on the card showing the present: the Hermit.

Which Taylor tries not to take personally. Who is there to be angry at other than himself?

“So since that one’s reversed too that means… what, that I’m a hermit on the inside?”

“I can see how you’d think that,” laughs Luc, “but not quite. How about we let the professional do his profession?”

Taylor gestures. The professional carries on. “It ain’t easy comin’ into this life so late. ‘Specially when you end up seein’ all the bad before a lick’a good comes your way. But you’re drownin’ in it — that’s what the Hermit’s tellin’ us. No time to ruminate?”

He scoffs. “Something like that.”

“Well make time. Lest it all starts crashin’ down and you get the proverbial water in ya lungs.”

“It’s not by choice. There’s things after me and —”

“And excuses ain’t gonna keep you afloat.” The man reaches over faster than Taylor can move back; actually flicks his forehead dead center.

“Ow!” He swats Luc’s hand away.

“It ain’t me sayin’ this, Hunter. It’s them,” he gestures to the cards, “and they know more about this world than either of us could learn in a hundred lifetimes. Take ya damn time and really work out how you feel. Else you won’t be able to face this here future with a clear head.”

Luckily Taylor doesn’t have to ask; isn’t certain he’d be able to as he looks at the Two of Swords card and feels sweat start to bead at his temples.

Playing with tarot cards is all fun and games when you don’t believe. Even when you do — a measure of healthy skepticism is good for the soul. But with everything he’s seen; been told?

Who would willingly ask for their future foretold after that?

“I think we can skip to the next cards.”

“Oho, this don’t work like that.”

“Why,” doing his best to keep his voice level, “it’s my reading, right? I don’t want to know.”

“Sucks to be you, then. You draw; you listen. That’s how all true readin’s go.” Luc leans back on the creaky chair and lets the Swords card flip and twirl between his fingers.

He could make it easy on them both; stop arguing and just get up and leave the reading unfinished. Find Ryder in the back and apologize for doing what he said not to do — again — and book it out of there right quick.

But he doesn’t.

“Now I get why Nik said not to do this.”

“Ha — well, hindsight ain’t much use in a house of foresight baby. So listen; an’ listen well.

“In proper tarot some cards are real close in meanin’. That’s where the spread comes in — the order, the intent; not to mention the cards all ‘round it. The Swords in your future point to some hard fuckin’ choices. And if ya keep on the path ya’re on you won’t be makin’ ‘em with all your marbles.

“I ain’t talkin’ about decisions that can be made for you, neither. When it comes down to it you’re likely to find ya’self alone — not only in the act a’ choosin’ but in dealin’ with the consequences.”

“So what kind of choices? What do the cards scream about that?”

“They don’t —” he tosses the card back down and it’s probably not a coincidence that it slides magically askew back in the reading’s place, “— on account of all the changes between now and when that time comes.

“The cards give truths where mortals lie; hope where the world pushes despair. But at the end’a everythin’ they’re just cards — bound by the same circumstances as you or I.”

It’s probably meant to be poignant; something that might be sold on a re-purposed wooden palette hand-painted and polished. In a shop similar to this — right between the mismatched crystal balls and Ryder’s coveted frog warts.

But all Taylor can think is; “Well that’s absolutely useless to me beyond freaking me out.”

Luc gives another one of his gap-toothed grins — “C’est la vie, mon petit,” — and doesn’t wait for permission or argument to reveal another card.

“If it makes ya feel any better —”

“Doubtful at this point.”

“— Fair. But they won’t leave ya hangin’. Unless the Hanged Man is drawn, a’course. Naw, rest easy knowin’ you won’t be goin’ the journey alone.”

He frowns; confused. “But you just said —”

“Hush. All the best journeys are made with friends. Though I… I ain’t sure I’d call the Nine a’Wands a friend…”

Curiosity replaced by twists and turns of his bewildered head; Luc bites down on his thumb nail and scrutinizes the seventh draw. “In fact, I’d call whomever this bad draw represents —”

“Ryder!”

The Nighthunter emerges in a wave of beads carrying a pearly sphere the size of his head tucked in the crook of his arm. At the same time Taylor jumps — a kid caught with his hand in the cookie jar — and swears when his knee bangs under the table.

Luc doesn’t notice — or doesn’t care; still fixated on the black-and-gold design in front of him. Mutters “could be him, but…” under his breath so low that no one catches it.

Taylor fumbles for an explanation — which is a pretty stupid move seeing as he was ready to just come clean only a minute ago — but doesn’t get the chance. Though he would like to state that it probably would have been an extremely convincing and well-versed one had Ryder not just held up a hand and rolled his eyes.

“I figured you’d ignore me. Already took out my anger with a mortar and pestle in the back.”

Well he’s a little offended now. “I wasn’t blatantly disobeying you or anything,” then; “I’m a grown adult and can make my own choices.”

And doesn’t that karma come around to bite him in the ass pretty damn fast. He makes a great effort not to look at what is no doubt a haughty look of ‘I told you so.’

“Yeah yeah, cry me a river.”

He props the sphere on a large cushion nearby to keep it from rolling and drags the last free seat over into Taylor’s personal bubble. Already looking at the spread like he, too, can hear these alleged screams from the deck. “So, Luc? Any tell on whether or not I’m gonna get paid for this gig?”

“Wha — hey!”

Taylor knows he doesn’t hit Nik’s arm that hard but the offended look he gets back is more than enough.

“Ouch. That hurt.”

“If that hurt I need a new bodyguard.”

“Don’t tempt me to pawn you off.”

“Please do.”

A tinny click draws their focus away from each other and to Luc’s newly lighted blunt. No longer puzzled by the cards — his eyes are brighter; they shine with understanding.

“Nevermind. I get it, now.”

“Get what?” barks Nik a little too defensively.

“Didn’ I jus’ tell ya not to mind it?”

Taylor cuts Nik off before he can continue arguing. They’ve been here too long already. “If we can’t leave until this is finished — can you finish?”

Two cards remain to be revealed. The fortune teller takes his sweet time with a few puffs before agreeing, if reluctantly. Maybe he just doesn’t like an audience?

All sense of the mysterium is gone. Luc flips the cards one at a time with one hand while sucking in his joint with the other.

The Five of Swords. The Wheel of Fortune.

It’s totally the secondhand high that makes the golden wheel glitter and seem to turn before their eyes. Totally.

He braces himself for another round of cryptic semi-explanations. Only they don’t come. Luc’s eyelids droop heavy — almost closed. And judging by Nik’s frown that’s not a normal part of the reading.

“Luca? Hey —” — he snaps in front of the man’s face — “— Laveau!”

He doesn’t quite jerk out of his momentary trance; eyelids flutter as if awakening from a dream.

“Maybe you had a point, Hunter,” after a throaty cough, “maybe it’s best this go unfinished.”

“What seriously? After all that earlier shit?” He balks. Beside him Ryder grabs the Swords and looks it over back to front.

“You’ve never left a reading hanging. What gives?”

“He’s still new to the life. I think he’s had enough bad news for today.”

Taylor practically snatches the card from Nik. But it seems just as reluctant to give up its secrets to him, too. Makes him toss it back down in frustration.

“Just tell me,” even he can’t believe what he’s saying, “since I dunno if it’s worse to know or to guess.”

“Trust me. The worst one’s knowin’.”

“I’ll take that as you’ve never encountered crippling anxiety, then.”

In rare sympathetic form Ryder reaches out and rests a hand on Luc’s exposed forearm. They aren’t hiding behind quips or dancing words any longer; you could see the remnants of intimacy between them from space.

“Luc — come on. For my sake, too.”

The doubt doesn’t ease off from the fortune teller’s brow. In fact it looks deeper than ever before. Finally he yields. “All right — but don’t blame me or the cards. We’re jus’ messengers after all.”

No longer in need of a familiar touch Luc shakes the hand off. Mutters something unintelligible under his breath and takes another few puffs to calm himself down before he covers the Five of Swords like he can’t do the reading while looking at it.

“There’s more than difficult choices ahead for you — and for those what end up around you. A fight looms —” he turns the Swords card on its back atop the revealed Wheel of Fortune, “— on a bigger horizon than that’a the Vieux Carre. Might even be one bigger than this world of ours.

“Not so much a fight as a battle; a war. Turnin’ and churnin’ at the banks of the river and out into the ocean. Ready to flood the whole damn city — every corner of the earth. And it’ll keep ragin’ and screamin’ with every body what falls to it.”

Ryder goes still as stone beside him. Taylor finds himself revisiting the notion of it being better not knowing.

“What does any of that have to do with me?”

“You, Mister Hunter — you’re smack dab in the middle of it. More’n that… you belong there.”

Apologies. Sympathy. Condolences. Luc can’t seem to settle on one way to look at Taylor so instead he just focuses on packing his deck back up. He isn’t as careful this time around — like he’s angry at the cards and what they had to say; to scream. Two separate entities working off of one another but, at the very least, both unhappy with the outcome.

“I’ll get a box for that crystal ball — the warts are yours but I’ll need interest on that relic.” He can’t get away from the pair fast enough. Shuffles the tarot deck in his hands as he goes.

He wants to be surprised that Nik doesn’t follow; doesn’t go to check on someone he obviously has a past and present connection with. But in the goody bag of his emotions he just keeps pulling out resignation — even when he cheats and peeks inside.

That’s all there is. All he can feel.

Where’s that opportunity for escapism the cards had mentioned earlier? He could use a bit of that at the moment.

Doesn’t know when exactly Nik started trying to comfort him; hand on his upper back, the gentle back-and-forth of his thumb. Taylor’s not a big fan of touch but that seems to be how Ryder connects to the world; through the physical.

And oddly it’s working. The comfort thing.

“You okay?”

He’ll sass such a ridiculous question later. “Uh, honestly I don’t really know what I am right now.”

Ryder’s face is unusually close when Taylor looks his way. The barest flicker — a crack in the bravado. Nik is worried for him.

“That can happen after Luc’s readings. You think I warned ya away to keep you from somethin’ fun? Knowin’ his connection with the spirit world makes it all really…”

He struggles for the right word. Weird, coming from him.

“‘Real?’” offers Taylor, and gets him a nod.

“Yeah, really real.”

Noises of shuffled boxes and Luc’s grunts draw them out of Taylor’s personal space and back to the world around them. Up near the back curtain Luc gently eases the crystal ball into a wooden box.

“So, question.”

“Yeah Rook?”

“What do we do now?” Because if turning tail and running like a shameless coward away from this war is an option, he’s taking it.

“We keep on going,” Nik answers, “We get back to the Shift and finish up this blasted protection spell and then we dive into findin’ your attacker and punch a bunch’a holy light holes in it’s ugly-ass face.”

This time when he reaches into the bag of emotions, luck gives him a break and lets him pull out the barest ghost of a smile.

“Man, it is ugly. Like — fugly ugly.”

Ryder’s smile is just as small — but no less sincere — than his.

“It damn sure is.”

[burnededens]

   ( avan jogia, trans male, he/him, assassin’s creed: syndicate ) * &. i know it must be scary for you, jacob frye, after not surviving the takeover. to turn into someone like jacob "jake” fowles, a twenty-five year-old bartender at dragon’s breath brewery & fighter at the ring, right here in castle town. just remember that you are as charming as you are reckless, and to be wary, be safe, be true to who you are : neutral through and through. ( hylia gets assassin’s creed on main )

   SO FUN FACT - I have been wanting to write this character in this group for months and it is absolutely a crime that it took me this long to pick him up but here we FINALLY are ! I’m genuinely shocked he’s the first Assassin’s Creed character here because I personally think all of the characters are phenomenal and it was either gonna be this character or the protagonist from two games before ( Edward Kenway of Black Flag ) but I have a slightly greater preference towards Jacob so !! Behold the living embodiment of chaotic good !! Obvious tws for death , violence , and murder under the cut because this is a series about assassins , but also gang stuff ( and a very small bullying mention in the post-snap portion )��too. I hope this is easy to understand !! 

BEFORE THE SNAP  /  J A C O B   F R Y E .

S’OKAY again I will always try and explain the games’ history and Syndicate’s specific plotline in the simplest of ways - and especially because AC can get very confusing very fast. Thankfully Syndicate is one of the more straightforward entries , but before I get into that , I have to give a basic rundown of the lore since... it will not make sense if you haven’t played any of the games.

A long long long time ago , there were these people called the Isu , and the Isu crafted something that the AC franchise refers to as Pieces of Eden. The Pieces of Eden ultimately has access to control other living beings , and they were extremely powerful.

Flash forward a little bit where you have two forces - the Knights’ Templar and the Assassin Order/Brotherhood - that struggled for these Pieces of Eden for two very different reasons.

The Templars valued order and wanted to use them to control others to achieve a utopia - believing that human corruption & essentially free will were what caused most evils of the world.

The Assassins valued freedom & wanted to preserve the free will of the world , believing that control would do them no good and a mutual understanding under this freedom would be what created a utopia.

So basically , Templars wanted peace via control and Assassins wanted peace via freedom.

Templars wanted the Pieces of Eden to control , and the Assassins knew this was Not Good and often sought to keep the Pieces the fuck away from the Templars ( at least , that’s always how I saw it. )

Of course , because we’re now on like ten main games and seventeen spin-off games it’s OBVIOUSLY way more complicated than that , just that’s the most nutshell way to explain everything. That being said , let’s jump more into Jacob & Syndicate. 

SO JACOB. Jacob is one of the two protagonists of Syndicate , the younger twin to the other protagonist , his sister Evie. They were born in Crawley , raised by their Assassin father , but while Evie was always more . . . into the Brotherhood and assassin ideals , Jacob always was more of a rebel & a free spirit. But nevertheless , he grew up an Assassin like she.

Flash forward years later where the main plot of Syndicate starts , during the Industrial Revolution in 1868 , where the twins are set on heading to London , which is pretty much entirely under control of the Templars ( namely Crawford Starrick and his network ) & their syndicates ( ha ha hA ).

This . . . is sort of where Jacob & Evie separate in terms of goals - Evie’s well-aware of the Pieces of Eden and aims to collect them before the Templars do. However , Jacob’s more so intent on taking down Templars & liberating London from their control. He goes as far as to even starting a gang with his sister - known as the Rooks - to combat the Templar-controlled gang that has London’s boroughs in its grasp known as the Blighters. 

Evie’s basically like “okay we’re going to collect the Pieces of Eden so the templars don’t have them bc Starrick will be more powerful if he has them” but Jacob says to her “fUCK YOU I’M A MAN WHO’S GONNA FREE THE PEOPLE” and. Yeah.

Throughout the game , Jacob’s the twin that exhibits a more impulsive , reckless , yet well-meaning approach to problems - and that sorta kinda . . . means that when he solves problems , he also accidentally makes other problems , and his sister has to clean them up because hey , you killed this Templar leader and angered a bunch of Blighters and we are fucked and Jacob can’t really. Grasp that because he’s too focused on freeing London NOW and taking out Templars NOW and [ Sleeping With Sirens vc ] do it NOW and remember deal with it LATER.

There’s a few cases where Jacob has even so ( both unintentionally and intentionally ) teamed up with Templars because he thought they could help him accomplish his goals in taking London back from them.

He teamed up with Pearl Attaway ( a businesswoman who controlled most of London’s transport and wanted basically a monopoly ) and didn’t find out until later that she was a Templar and had to assassinate her since she was the exact type of controller he wanted to rid London of

But also he struck a deal with Maxwell Roth ( basically a Blighter gang leader who had a shitton of power ) to work with him - but Maxwell saw this as let’s cause as much chaos as possible and fuck the consequences where Jacob saw it as more let’s fix problems by any means necessary and he had to shut down the deal when he saw Roth really just . . . didn’t give a fuck about anyone , including innocents. Jacob’s whole goal was to free and protect the innocents , he just didn’t care how as long as nobody got hurt.

AND THAT’S HONESTLY WHAT I LOVE SM ABOUT JACOB LIKE ... Jacob. Is the epitome of chaotic good like he cares so much about people and protecting the innocents & saving them from control that yeah he doesn’t really . . . consider the consequences of his actions especially when his actions are so chaotic but his primary goal is to free the people of London by taking down Templars and he doesn’t give a fuck how he’s going to do it , he just operates on his code of making sure none of the good people get hurt and the bad guys go down. 

Eventually in the game he did come to realize the errors in his own work and way of thinking - he didn’t think much of the consequences , and therefore caused more of a wreckage than he aimed for. He loved the idea of freedom , but drew the line at absolute careless anarchy like Roth.

Basically be a REBEL not an ASSHOLE.

I love this kid tho like he’s so witty and rebellious and chaotic but also good-hearted and will still help even tho he might complain a lot about it ( looks at Abberline and Darwin ) and he !! He honestly acts before he thinks but I find those characters so refreshing esp bc he’s very emotional and adamant about acting on how he feels and his ideals and it’s honestly so. Idk I really like that about him.

He’s also canonically bisexual and that is something I will never shut up about but if you fucking even tHINK ABOUT ROMANTICIZING ROTH & JACOB’S RELATIONSHIP ( like it’s p much confirmed Roth had a thing 4 Jacob but it’s not. That’s not a Good Thing ) I will personally throw some hands with you. 

...Jacob and Ned however-

SPARE NED?? SPARE NED MA’AM??? 

But honestly anyway TLDR; Jacob is a Victorian chaos-bringer who doesn’t really think much about the shit he does but has a heart of gold he’s just. He’s A Lot. He’s a lil bitch but a good kind of lil bitch.

ALSO ALSO ALSO I AM,,,, not exactly entirely sure where I’m pulling Jacob yet like I could pull him from the end of Syndicate’s main story but also there’s the Jack the Ripper DLC which makes me... feel things, but Jacob’s also significantly older than and a good bit of that DLC’s a bit triggering - long story short, we love and will protect Jacob Frye with our entire lives. 

AFTER THE SNAP  / J A K E   F O W L E S .

So PERSONALITY WISE - Jake isn’t much different from his past self ; the only thing is he never grew up with his twin sister , raised an only child , and because Jacob & Evie are meant to balance each other out , he essentially grew up without an entire part of him he isn’t even aware of.

He was adopted - adopted by a working-class family from London that moved to Castle Town , and that was where Jake was raised.

Now , he was always a bit of a rebel. Always a problem child from the start. There were hundreds and hundreds of cases where he was reported either talking back to teachers , misbehaving in class , sometimes even getting into fights with other kids whether it be they were picking on him or someone else.

And he always liked the thrill of being that rebel - being that miscreant that earned a reputation ; never a mean person , never a bad dude , just somebody who . . . acted out. Acted out for whatever reason - mainly because he never liked the idea of obeying or because he taught the rules were stupid or because the rules meant some people were gonna get inconvenienced. Like , if you see someone getting bullied , why just tell an adult where you can solve the problem right then and there and sock the bully in the jaw ??

That was it. That was Jake’s philosophy.

His parents sent him to multiple hobby & art & educational camps & stuff to try and see if he could find some sort of hobby that would sorta get him out of this ‘problem child’ thing - but it never really worked. He always either got sent home earlier or was asked to never come back because hey , you can’t start a rebellion in the boys’ cabin because you didn’t like the way one of the counselors instructed you about knot tying. 

Never worked out , his parents thought he was smart and would make a brilliant lawyer or doctor or something - but nope , he graduated high school , attempted college but dropped out after two years , and when his parents kicked him out , he crashed with a few friends and made a living on odd jobs before he scored working as a bartender at Dragon’s Breath.

And also . . . both fighting at The Ring and also underground matches for some coin.

Yeah. 

It’s sorta-kinda through this he ALSO became aware of the other people who had to resort to means like this to survive - eventually starting his own gang of people who operated on sorta-kinda Robin Hood like terms - protect the less fortunate , combat the gangs who caused way more problems than he’d like , and also to basically uhhh flip the bird to the rich.

You guessed it - they’re called The Rooks and they’re not really . . . big , they’re just kind of. There. And nobody knows Jake’s the leader but it’s not like he’s really pressed if anyone finds out. 

It’s overall not entirely different from his pre-CT life other than obvious modern differences and LACK OF EVIE sooo. Yeah !!

I’ll hopefully work on a WC page for him soon but as of rn I just kinda want to get some threads going - hope y’all enjoy my dumbass kid xoxoooo