#thread: team snake respite

[deathsdue]

The creature game didn't end how Gerome hoped, and worse he didn't know where he could've done things differently. There was no battle that took place, just an unfortunate encounter with someone who carried little in the ways of morals, but he was used to those type. Still, he couldn't help but wonder if it was some failing on his part somehow. There was so much more him to improve upon.

Now, Gerome found himself in combat with a makeshift dummy, practicing strikes upon the poor thing as it took the brunt of his frustration. In a way, the repetitive movement was therapeutic.

He didn't know at all when someone approached, focused so intently on his opponent that he buried his axe right in the crux of its neck so deep that it took a moment to work the blade out. No, Gerome didn't really understand what a vacation was, not when there was always something to do.

@optimismxmagicism

team snake respite

[awanderingdeal]

I vote leo meeting the harvard team! 💕

So this fic has been a bit of a mare to write, but we are here!

You can read the first part of this here

Rating: T

CW: Alcohol, academic superiority complex and coming out.

Logan, Finn, Leo, Percy, Will and the general Sweater Weather universe belongs to @lumosinlove. The other team members were made up by me for this fic.

“Okay, tell me their names again,” Leo said, tugging at the rolled neck of his sweater as he shut the car door.

“Nutty,” Finn laughed. “There’s not going to be a pop quiz. We’ll introduce you when we meet people.”

Leo scowled, letting Logan thread their fingers together. It was weird being able to do this in public still and Leo couldn’t help but glance around. “I just don’t want to make a fool of myself.” Logan squeezed his hand reassuringly, meeting Leo’s gaze with a soft smile.

“Nobody expects you to know anything. And everybody’s great.” Logan wrinkled his nose like he’d just smelt something bad. “Except Wesley, he’s an ass, but I’ll point him out.”

Like many of the others in Harvard square, the building was all exposed brick and white accents, blending in seamlessly with those around it. Inside was different, more modern. Leo didn’t get to see much of the first floor, the one dedicated to the restaurant Finn, Logan and the rest of the team had dined at previous evening, before he was ushered up a grand staircase, but he’d seen the photographs. The cherry blossom ceilings and walls of glass provided the perfect backdrop for the instagram feeds of the hoards of celebrities and influencers that flocked there. Hence his surprise when, after checking their invitations again, an employee pushed open a set of double doors to reveal a room that more resembled a 1920’s speakeasy than anything 21st century. A loud cheer went up as they crossed the threshold.

“Is this a team thing?” Leo mouthed at Logan.

He got his answer from Percy Marshall. Leo had met him a few times before when they’d played the Rangers. “You’re the last to arrive,” Percy chuckled. “I’d say I was surprised, but that would be a lie.” He slapped a hand playfully against Finn’s bicep. Is this outfit change number 52, Finn? Don’t worry, you didn’t disappoint. You look wonderful.”

“Fuck you, Marshy,” Finn laughed. “Tremz was on a call to his sisters actually.”

“Oh, I do apologise,” Percy clasped his hand to his chest. “We wouldn’t dare break up a Tremblay soiree.”

“You’re an ass,” Logan scoffed, plucking at Finn’s slacks. “I was only talking to them because Finn was taking so long. Did you know there are several shades of mustard and only one of them goes with this shirt?”

“Oh look, they argue like an old married couple too,” William Morgan, another of those Leo knew, and Percy’s teammate on the Rangers, teased. “Marshy, these hands are looking too empty. Get these men a drink.”

“Aye, aye, capt’n.” Leo set to follow as Percy led the way to the bar, stumbling slightly as he found Will’s firm grasp on his shoulder stopping his movement. Logan turned as his fingers slipped from his hand.

“Go ahead, Tremzy. I’m going to introduce Leo to some of the team. We want all the gossip without you two around to censor him.”

Logan frowned. “I’m not sure -”

“Relax, Logan. This isn’t a hazing. We’ll be right over there,” Will pointed towards a group perched on stools around two of the tables in the centre of the room, a mix of the old team and what Leo assumed were their partners. “Knut’s a big boy. He can object for himself if he really doesn’t want to come.”

“I’m sure I can hold my own,” Leo cocked his head slightly and smiled. “You better not leave Harzy with Percy for too long. They’ll be three shots down by now.”

The next few hours passed in a whirlwind of introductions. Leo had lost count of the number of hands he'd shaken and the new names he'd learned. It reminded him of those first few days in Gryffindor, being shuffled around from place to place and everybody telling him he'd get used to it.

The quiet of the bathroom was a welcome reprieve to the chaos. “Sweetheart,” Leo laughed, listening to Finn sing to himself in the stall. “Are you okay? You’ve been in there a while.”

“I’m coming, I’m coming.” A concerningly loud crash preceded the door being pushed open. “I’m here.”

“You’re drunk,” Leo chuckled.

Finn pulled his hands from under the stream of water, shaking droplets everywhere as he squeezed the tips of his thumb and forefinger together. “Maybe just the tiniest bit.”

Leo shook his head fondly. “Let’s go and find Lo.” Glancing back to check Finn was following him proved to be a mistake. “Shit, I’m sorry,” he apologised, rubbing at his forehead and stepping back from the wall of muscle he’d just crashed into. Of course, the tall man with his hair pulled back into a loose ponytail was the one person Leo hadn’t yet met.

“Leo, this is James. Call him Hunter,” Finn grinned with his hand resting in the small of Leo’s back. "Hunter, this is -"

"Leo Knut. I know. Everybody knows," Hunter said and Leo noted the familiar notes of his own accent in the words. He faltered with his hand thrust halfway in Leo's direction, letting it fall back by his side. "Oh fuck, sorry man. Did you want to introduce him as your boyfriend? Go ahead."

"It's cool, no worries." Finn shrugged, the rounds of his cheeks tinged with the slightest of blushes. "Aww, what the heck!" He squared his shoulders, standing a little taller, the corners of his mouth splitting with pride. "Hunter, this is Leo, my boyfriend."

Hunter extended his hand again for Leo to shake. “Nice to meet you. Please excuse me, I have to use the bathroom now, but we’ll talk later.”

***

"Boys." The call had come from behind them and Logan groaned low in his chest as they turned to acknowledge it.

"Wes! You made it," Finn smiled, the corners of his mouth tight. "We weren't sure you'd be able to. With all those big meetings you have to attend and such. Is your wife, Renee, wasn’t it, here? I'd love to meet her."

Something flickered in Wes' smug expression. "They stayed in California. Nate has a very busy schedule. Harvard is very important to me, as you know, so I came alone."

“Isn’t Nate three?” Logan blinked.

“You have to give them a good start if you want them to get them to get into a good college these days, I’m sure you understand. Where was it you went, Leo?"

Leo pursed his lips, letting the same calm wash over him that he channelled for interviews. “I didn’t go. I got drafted straight out of high school.”

“Oh, well, that’s a shame,” Wes said. “College isn’t for everybody though, is it?”

Logan bristled beside him, and Leo placed a placating hand on his shoulder. “Indeed,” he blinked. “I didn’t need my intelligence validated by a degree then, and I still don’t now. And I was hardly about to turn down an offer from The Gryffindor Lions now, was I?”

Wes grumbled something that sounded vaguely like an agreement before turning on his heel and walking off in a manner that Leo could only describe as petulant.

“You’re so hot,” Finn took Leo’s face between his hands and pressed a kiss to his lips. “I’m going to get a drink. Do you want another?”

“Please,” Leo nodded. Logan raised his still mostly full glass as a rejection of the offer.

“You should have let me punch him,” Logan huffed. “He would have deserved it.”

"And get blood on your shirt? Let’s leave that on the ice, shall we?” Leo tugged at the lapels of Logan’s jacket.

***

"So," Logan started as they claimed one of the low tables in the corner, a little tucked away from the rest of the room. "What do you think?"

"It's always nice seeing where you two started," Leo hummed, threading his fingers through the thin curls on the nape of Logan's neck. "I just don't know how you used to do this everyday. Live amongst all this energy. The guys all seem great, but it's a lot even now and I'm assuming you've all mellowed somewhat with age."

"I am not old," Logan scoffed. "Mais non, I agree. Wasn't always like this though. There's more than one graduating class here and we've been apart a long time. A lot of excitement."

"Sorry, sorry, I got caught up with Biscuit. He has triplets now, isn't that crazy?" Finn said, pressing a glass into Logan’s hand and setting Leo’s in front of him before flopping onto the couch opposite. "One Margarita for the fine sir."

"Thanks, Harzy," Leo laughed lightly.

"I can't believe him and Vanessa are still together," Logan hummed, taking a long sip of his drink. He leaned back, crossing his left leg over his right thigh and snaked his arm across the dark leather, brushing his fingers against Leo's shoulder. "I only introduced them because she was flirting with you at that party, the one just after we got back from winter break my junior year, and I wanted to distract her."

"Oh, so that's why you got all moody," Finn said. "She wasn't flirting, she needed help with an essay, idiot."

"The fact you remember Logan's mood on a night seven years ago says more about you than him," Leo snorted.

"First of all, Tremzy being grumpy? That's just a good guess. Second, some of us were still stupid at 20, Knutty." Finn sighed wistfully. "Hey, at least it doesn't feel like I'm being stabbed in the chest these days when I think about it. Progress, right?"

Logan tipped his glass in Finn's direction, nodding his head briefly. "I'll cheers to that."

"To -" Leo started, letting the toast die off as another of Finn and Logan's old team mates approached. He hoped the disappointment he felt wasn't written across his face; whilst he hadn't really expected to be left alone for too long, he had hoped for the brief respite to have lasted longer.

"Hey." The newcomer had his hand shoved into his pockets and his shoulders stooped, almost as if he was trying to hide himself. "I'm not interrupting anything, am I?"

"Ken!" Finn patted the empty seat next to him. "Of course not. Come, sit."

Leo extended his arm, offering his hand. "Nice to meet you. Ken was it? I'm Leo."

"Ken's what the team always called me. Don't really hear it much these days." Leo thought he saw something sad in the smile sent his way. "My real name is Obi."

"That's because you went off the radar," Logan gave a pointed look.

"About that -" Obi swiped Finn's drink, ignoring his disgruntled protest. He drained what was left of it, pulling at an non-existent loose thread on his sweater. "I wanted to say thank you, you know. For having the guts to come out. I know Black and Lupin were first, but that was forced wasn’t it. You made a choice. I know that must have been hard. It was one hell of a ballsy move."

Leo looked between Finn and Logan, expecting them to answer, but neither of them spoke. "We didn't have much of a choice, not if we didn't want to be watching our back every second of every day."

"It was still brave," Obi muttered. "I couldn't have done it."

"Ken, what are you saying?" Logan never did have much patience for others taking their time to get to the point, even though he was a fan of the scenic route himself.

"They gave you a whole Harvard degree and you need to ask that question?" Obi huffed a laugh. "I'm gay. I met Marco, my now husband at the end of senior year, and freaked out. I didn't know how to make these two worlds work, so I didn't. I moved to DC with him, and started a new life. I'm an accountant, he works in marketing. We have four rats, and a Vizsla called Poppy. It's all very domestic. I love it, but I was a coward.”

"You're not a coward. You don't owe that information to anybody, Ken. Not the others, not the media, not the NHL and not us. Not now, not then, not ever.” Finn took a breath, holding up his finger to signal he wasn’t finished. “Besides, it's not as if Lo and I planned this. We went into this with every intention of stuffing this deep, deep into the depths of denial, never for anybody to find out. Including ourselves. And then Nutty came along.”

Obi smiled at Leo, turning his attention back to Finn. "When did you become Gay Yoda?"

"I spend way too much time in our psych's office. Just spreading the wisdom. Heather would be proud."

"Do the others know?" Logan asked.

"Not yet, I think I'd like them to though."

Logan shifted, leaning forward in his seat. "There's no rush, Ken. We've got your back, whatever you decide."

"So, do you have photos?" Leo cocked his head. "We got to show off. Now it's your turn. Even if it's only for us."

"Of Marco?"

"I'm sure he's wonderful, but I was actually talking about Poppy. And the rats," Leo teased.

There were moments when Leo wondered whether they had made the right decision. When he was playing in front of hostile crowds, or fending off stupid media questions, or blocking bigots on twitter. And then there were moments when he knew the decision they had made was 100% perfect. Right now, that was one of those moments.

[erintoknow]

maybe it will break and maybe it won’t

fallen hero fanfiction some [chargestep], but mostly featuring Lady Argent. ~3.1k words [ao3]

i feel like this might be intense enough i should just give this a generalized content warning :v

prev: [no reason for suspicion of me]

–––

You chew your cheek as you follow Ortega through the hallway, one hand fiddling with your sunglasses. Here we go, the day of reckoning. And lo, though you walk through the valley of death, but you shall fear no evil, because… you are the evil.

Or something.

Fuck.

Ortega stops and turns her head to check on you, offers an encouraging smile. “Thank you for doing this. I mean it.”

You keep your face placid, shrug your shoulders. “I’ll do what I can.”

“I wouldn’t have asked if I could think of any other way.”

You frown at that. The logic a little too familiar. “It’s… nice to be wanted, I guess.”

She looks at you again, shift your focus study the floor in front your feet. “Hey, I’ve missed you, you know?”

You don’t know what to say for that and so opt for ‘nothing,’ expecting Ortega to fill the silence like she always does. Instead the empty cord stretches out, the electric hum of machinery buzzing under your mind.

You step forward down the hall and it mercifully prompts Ortega to take the lead again. “So, uh, is–is, uh, Lady Argent ready?

“As much as she can be,” Ortega frowns, slowing her pace. “I hope this helps, even if you don’t find anything She’s been…”

“I can understand,” you say, your voice barely above a whisper. Something heavy and painful squeezes your chest, your throat. “She’s been– been…”

“Is that what it felt like when–” 

“I don’t want to talk about that.” You snap, you wrap your arms around yourself, hugging your sides as you shudder. You’ve never really thought this hard about what happens to someone after you finish possessing them. Now you are, and you can taste the bile in the back of your throat.

           cables twisting around

                       the feet like

               snakes in the grass.

      red strings wrapped

                           around your wrists,

                       yanked tight,

                 your hand finds the dial

        on the plasma caster’s power setting

“–felt it too, during that last mission.”

You blink, lost for a moment. “Who?”

Ortega gives you a look. “Chen?”

Oh.

Wait.

“What about the dampeners?”

Ortega shakes her head, “They overloaded.” She speeds up as she talks, “That’s why I got to you so late. It started to get to him too. Just about about managed to keep himself under control.”

Frown, “How?” How did Steel do what you couldn’t.

Ortega frowns, obviously not proud of herself. “I reminded him he was a soldier, you know? That his life wasn’t his anymore.”

Oh.

Your frown only deepens further. “Well good for him.”

The walls are a friendlier color but as Ortega opens the door for you to step inside, you can’t help but note the similarity to an interrogation room. Glass pane into the hallway, single door in or out. Two chairs on opposite sides of a small square table. Light hanging down from a singular overhead lamp. You pull the halves of your jacket together with one hand as you sit down in the only unoccupied chair.

Ortega shuts the door behind her.

Lady Argent sits across from you, arms folded in front of her chest, leaning back, away from you, shoulders tense.  Might as well try to ease into things…

You push up your sunglasses. No way in hell are you taking them off in here.  “H–how are you doing, Lady Argent?”

She scowls at you. “Let’s just get on with this already. It’s been weeks.”

Try not to flinch, take a breath. In. Out. “Alright, well… close you eyes, if you could?”

She hunches up, glaring at you. “Why.” Damn, you’d swear she could see right though you. Suddenly, having Ortega standing in a corner doesn’t feel like sufficient protection. God, if you screw this up, you’ll be lucky if it only costs your life.

You try to smile, put your hands flat on your lap, gripping your skin through clothes so they won’t shake. “N–n–no sense turning this into a staring contest, right? It’ll be– it’ll be hard for us to focus if we’re all laughing.”

Argent snarls at you, and you flinch back in your seat. “This isn’t funny.” 

Ortega steps forward from her corner towards the two of you. “Angie, it’s okay. Calm down. You can trust Ari.” You stomach twists at that last addition.

“I am calm.” Argent huffs, scrunching up face. “Stay out of this Julia.” She turns her head back to you, staring you down. You give her a nervous smile and she shuts her eyes with another huff. “…should I be doing anything?”

There’s something deeply unsettling about how her the silver sheen of her skin reflects your own face back at you.

You bite your lip, “Just… be quiet. It’s been a long time since I’ve tried to do anything like this.” You lie, and you feel sick again for doing so. You need to pull yourself together fast or you cover-up job is going to be even worse at hiding your involvement then the original crime.

“Take your time, Ari.” Ortega’s voice feels like it’s coming from a thousand miles away as you close your own eyes.

It starts with skimming thoughts, like dipping your hand through a stream. It’s small – a child’s – yours or hers? Skimming the water fingers brushing pebbles and the water deepens, further and further as the blue of the reflected sky deepens and the wavering images of the forest drops away and you’re in the thick of it – immersed. The current grips your arm pulling you one way, your leg it yanks another.

The haze of blue blinding your perception gives way to metal spires mirrored in the sea. Constantly shifting, tilting, collapsing and rebuilding, the reflections out of sync. Memory of metal and sharpness. You pull your own song tight against you, pull yourself into the tiniest speck of a presence as you can manage. The long you’re here, the great a risk you take.

Pull yourself tight, plunge down into the depth of the labyrinth. You don’t have time to try to decipher the literal meaning of the metaphors being thrown at you. Get in, get out. Follow the thread. You were always good that at least.

Or you thought you were.

Wrong turn, and the mindscape melts around you into something else, a shadow of a room. Somewhere in the Rangers HQ? Ortega stands in front of you but you only know that by her shape and the memory. The figure before you is alive in pulsing coils of light like you’ve never seen her before.

You’re in Argent’s memory?

Oops.

We can’t just pretend this never happened, Ortega pleads. You try to focus on her through Argent’s eyes. What is she wearing? A suit. White? When was this?

Yes we can, Argent snaps and your– her vision jerks around as she crosses her arms, scowls at Ortega.

Ortega, this unsettling superposition of glowing wires under human flesh. She gestures, leaving glowing trails with her hands. You know it doesn’t work that way. You’re–

A risk to the team. Argent snarls. A liability.

What’s that look for? Ortega frowns.

Argent’s vision darts between the pulsing in Ortega’s abdomen to her face. You sure I’m the only liability here?

That is not what we’re talking about.

Fine. But we will. Soon.

Ortega sighs. If that’s what it takes.

I just find her a bit creepy. You frown, drumming your hand against your elbow.

Angie! Ortega frowns, eyebrows furrowed.

You take a step back, What? Something about how she looks–

Just stop! Ortega raises her voice at you. She’s been through a lot and deserves some–

Huh. Arch a single eyebrow.

What!?

A smile curls your lip. Nothing, you lie. It’s just… funny.

What? What is? Ortega’s face heats up, an intensity of color.

You. Point a finger at her face. Are blushing.

She’s a friend. An old friend. Ortega is glaring daggers at you now.

You keep your smirk. Uh-huh.

Look, just, be civil to her okay? This isn’t her fault. Ortega’s words twist a knife in your heart as the memory warps and melts around you. It’s not your fault. This isn’t your fault. You’re just– you’re just trying to help right?

Cables, like snakes in the grass coil around you.

Sorry Chickadee, here comes the net.

You don’t even realize at first that anything’s wrong. You’re just walking down the street, enjoying the temporary respite from the constant throbbing pain in your bones. And then you don’t make the turn towards your house. You keep walking. Cross the street. Huh. That’s funny. 

Must have been day-dreaming.

let your feet carry you to work by sheer reflex of memory there’s an itching in the back of your skull inside behind one eye a pressure pushing down people screaming flash of green when did you get to the ranger’s building? that’s blocks away plug in the security code descend down, down into the vault no one questions you why? why can’t they see what’s wrong? you movement feels stiff yet light there’s someone else pulling the strings something speaks with your mouth to the security guard and it’s not you, not your words and then

you’re scanning a wall of boxes tracing lines of circuitry pry loose one cabinet take the box inside and something in your skin buzzes crawls hums as your fingers wrap around the box whatever asshole’s running you doesn’t pay any mind too drunk on their supposed victory but still you can’t move, can’t speak cable wires run through your bones pulled this way and that by something else

and fuck thank god there’s herald you useless man don’t just stand there smiling this isn’t you it’s not you, help do something a shock like lightning runs through you and your hand goes straight into herald’s smiling face knocking him off his feet goddamnit thats what you get why won’t you realize something is wrong danny help me

he says something as the you that isn’t you runs and you can’t hear it can’t process it your vision dark like you keep falling asleep have to force yourself awake but there’s nothing you can do nothing nothing nothing your own fists clumsily bludgeoning and he doesn’t understand doesn’t get it useless useless somebody help help please why doesn’t somebody help you

You manage to yank yourself away before you impale yourself any further on the memory, an angry hissing red razor, a thousand different edges poking out in all directions. The water around it shimmers in a boiling haze.

Fuck.

Shit.

Goddamn.

That was bad.

You can’t afford time to process it right now. At least divorced from your body you don’t feel your usual reactions. No nausea. No tight throat. No panicked breathing. Clear your mind of all of it. Both your minds.

Focus on calm seas and desert plains.

Bit by bit the water colors, the edges dull, the shifting of the metal around you slows. You’ve made your job harder for yourself, but you’re not doomed yet. This’ll call for extra finesse. Dance from memory spike to memory spike, pull thoughts of home, wear the smell of baking bread like a cloak. Cast aside your jealousy pangs at her memories of family.

Memories aren’t recordings, it’s a performance, and one you can change. Touch the core of it again, gently, lightly, don’t get sucked in, scrub your give-aways drop little hints of something else.

No one’s heard from her in months, her picture plastering news reports. The innocent young woman, would-be vigilante. Where is she now? You don’t know, but Locus will make the perfect scapegoat. Strong enough to have plausibly done it. So long gone it’s unlikely the Rangers will ever find her and realize the ruse.

Paint her image into the crowd as Argent steps out of the therapy clinic. Purple on black skin, re-route your regret as coming from her:

It wasn’t your fault Argent. It wasn’t your fault. She had no other choice. It was nothing against you.

She’s sorry. She’s so, so sorry. You jerk awake in your own body to the room spinning around you, nausea churning at the back of your mouth. Someone’s hands pressing hard into your shoulders, holding you steady.

“Ariadne– Ari? You okay?”

You flinch, look up and try to focus your eyes. Ortega’s mouth is a tight frown, brows knitted together. What does she– Shouldn’t she be attending to Argent? Not you?

You cough, “I’m fine.” You rub your nose and groan, a line of red runs down your finger, across your hand. “Fuck. Got any tissues?”

“Yeah, yeah of course,” Ortega reaches into her back pocket pulling out a travel pack and handing the whole thing to you. You quickly shove a tissue up your noise and then wipe down your bloody hand.

“Thanks.” You glance over at Argent and flinch, there’s a slow boiling fury in her eyes. This is it. The moment of truth.

Argent spits out a name through clenched teeth. “Locus.” Her hands have curled into fists. “It was Locus. I knew she couldn’t be trusted. No one is that nice.” She shoves her chair backward as she gets to her feet.

Ortega helps you up, “Are you sure it was her?”

“I am.” She pays a passing glance in your direction and your stomach flips. “Sorry about your friend there. But she managed to jog something at least. I saw her. I saw her just before it all happened.” 

You glance at Ortega as Argent paces the room, flexing her fingers which have sharped into razors. “She is up to something. I don’t know what. Forced? Sorry?” Her voice drops into an unnerving growl. “She’ll pay. No one does something like that to me and walks away.” drums her hands –lethal pinpricks– against her hips, quivering in rage.

You feel sick, watching her.

There’s… There’s no way she’ll actually find Locus, right? “You should go tell Chen while it’s still fresh in your head.” Ortega puts an arm around your shoulder, holding you up, and you let her. Your body pressing into hers. You still feel dizzy. Was she always this tall? You didn’t shrink in the past seven years did you? “I’ll make sure Ari’s okay here.”

Argent flexes her hands, brushes back her hair in a dramatic flourish. “We finally have a lead.” She marches out the room, slamming the door hard enough behind her to make you jump.

Ortega frowns as she looks at you. “Are you alright, Ari? You look awful.”

You worm your way free of her and narrow your eyes, hold up the wad of tissues with one hand as you pinch the bridge of your nose. “I’m fine. Stop worrying so much.” It’s not you she should worry about.

“If you say so. Let me just clean up a bit before we head out.”

You lean back against the wall of the room as you watch Ortega fuss about the room. When she turns back to you, there’s a chocolate bar in her hands. “I know it’s not a milkshake, but I figured you would want a pick-me-up.”

You eyes widen at her, “W–where the– the heck were you hiding this?” You take the bar from her, hold it in one hand while you check if your nose is still bleeding with the other. Satisfied you at least won’t bleed over the chocolate you rip the wrapper open and bite down on an edge; let it melt in your mouth.

“I know how you get when you do something big like this.”

You close your eyes, slump against the wall. For a moment it’s like the past seven years haven’t happened. It’s just you and Julia, de-stressing after some death-defying battle. Allies again. Friends. But– “You never used to be this thoughtful.”

“Things change.”

“I guess.”

The taste of copper mixes with the taste of chocolate.

You can hear Ortega shift and you open your eyes and now she’s sitting in one of the chairs, turned it so she can face you. “Do you want to talk about it?”

You almost want to laugh. Instead you shrug, fold the wrapper back up and toss the candy bar to the table. “No.”

Ortega meets your gaze and you have to look away again. “It can’t hurt.”

You toss the bloodied tissue into the trash bin by the door. Rim shot, 2 points. Pull out another tissue and wad it up there. “You aren’t–” You stop yourself, wince. Try again, “you aren’t the one with the scars.”

Fuck. You don’t deserve her sympathy. If she knew the truth about you… Not even just about what you are any more. It’s what you’ve done. What you’re going to do. You’re going to have to think hard about this. About how far you’re willing to go.

Do you really need to blow up a whole building just to take out some dumb exhibit? Maybe…

“Ari… none of us got out of there in one piece.”

You tense up, “Y–you know what I mean.” What is her deal? Why does she care so damn much?

“Maybe, but…” Ortega trails off as she stands up again, she hesitates, a half step towards you. God. She’s really trying isn’t she. This isn’t an act. It isn’t a scheme to get you to slip up. Fuck. All this effort… you don’t deserve a second of it.

You don’t deserve to be here. You shouldn’t have done this. Ortega’s yanked your corpse out of the ground and now all the maggots have gone running for cover. Maybe Chen and Ortega don’t hate you. But now they will. What you’ve already done here.

But you can’t stop. It’s this or dying or worse. You or the Directive. 

You step towards her, duck your head towards the side and pull her into a hug. It takes her a second to register and then her arms clap tight against your back, pulling you against her, holding you a littler harder, and little longer than appropriate.

Eventually you have to pull away from her. You cough, “I’ve.. um, m-missed you too.” You can feel your face heat up as say it.

Ortega’s face lights up, a grin spreading wide across her face, and she’s acting way too excited over some dumb hug.

You step away from her before she can hug you again. Try to scowl to keep from smiling back. “D–don’t– don’t get carried away now.”

–

next: [my body is here and i am inside]

[deathsdue]

"Flesh," he asked, "You said this is a fruit." Though in truth he just didn't know much about food. Some may call the insides of a fruit the flesh, but he simply called it fruit, and flesh was reserved for meat.

The younger boy forcefully held up the tray and Gerome relented to picking one up with both hands. "Why go through all this fanfare for a drink? Why not simply drink...water?"

Yet he raised it to his lips and tried it. It was, indeed, refreshing, with a slightly sweet and nutty taste that was different from most things he'd tried. Interesting.

Too bad his mask hid his reaction from Ewan.

team snake respite

[deathsdue]

Gerome had not been aware of his team planning anything and after he wrested his axe free, turned toward his teammate. A few had approached him last week, and he'd met up with Inigo, and (unfortunately) got to know his roommates, but otherwise he'd kept to himself. That was how he liked it and it'd been working for the most part.

"I'm Gerome," he replied in kind. He sheathed his weapon and went to what he had to offer. After all this training, a drink would be nice.

Unfortunately, the so-called drinks looked...foreign to Gerome. "What...are those?" He gestured to the brown husks. It looked safe but he'd never seen anything quite like it either.

team snake respite

[optimismxmagicism]

After a week had passed, it was finally time for his teammates to return to the central islands! With all the coconuts he and Forde collected for the party, he had plenty left over to make drinks out of.

That’s how he ended up with a tray of coconut shells full of cool and refreshing coconut water. The little mage had been handing them out to teammates (and some friendly non-teammates too) so they could fight off the heat. Looking around for any others who might need a drink, he spotted a masked man who seemed to be in a furious bout of training. Looking a little closer he noticed the man even had a red bandana! So he was a teammate!

He didn’t even greet him at the start of the vacation, how embarrassing! He’d better rectify that quick. So, making sure to put on his brightest smile he approached the stranger. “Hi mister! My name’s Ewan, I’m your teammate!”Then he held up one of the coconut drinks, offering it to the taller male. “Here, want a refreshing drink? You look a bit tired.”

team snake respite

[optimismxmagicism]

“Huh? You’ve never seen a coconut before?” The boy tilted his head curiously. Well.. he supposed that wasn’t wholly impossible as they only grew in warmer and wetter climates. Heck, the only reason Ewan knew about them was because he and teacher visited that seaside town once during their trip around Magvel.

“They’re fruits! The green shell is hard and inedible, but on the inside is really delicious flesh and liquid! It’s little sweet and really good at fighting off dehydration!” Ewan cheerfully explained to Gerome everything he read from a book on tropical plants. Ever since he learned they were going to an island he spend the few days beforehand learning about tropical flora and fauna. It never hurts to be prepared after all!

This time, a little more forcefully he held it up close for the masked man to take. “Come on, try it! It’s tasty I promise!”

team snake respite