#who knows what's being tested here hmhm

[ko2vo]

Backyard Angel

[howlingday]

Dragondslayer: red handed

Jaune and Yang are caught half naked in the dorm by their teammates and teachers

Jaune: oh…

Yang: Shit…

"Are you sure this is okay?"

"Yeah, it's fine. Everybody's down in the library, and we have the perfect excuse to sneak away."

"Okay." Jaune's hesitation mounted to a peak until he entered the dark room with Yang, and it only grew darker as the door shut behind him.

The two had grown much closer than anyone would have expected since they decided to wing it with their "dates," which was mostly just Jaune and Yang hanging out at a shop in the city. What started as playful shoving blossomed into hand-holding and eventually kissing. Simple pecks on each other's lips at first, of course. Testing of waters.

This wasn't any of that. Jaune and Yang had discarded much of their top clothing, save for Yang's bra as a last sign of her decency. Though Jaune's hand groping beneath it did little to preserve that.

"Hmhm, feisty~." Yang purred as she led him to Blake's bed. No sense climbing up to hers. Besides, Blake would understand, since they weren't going much further than this. Or so she thought, until Jaune hand grew bolder and found shelter elsewhere in her clothing. She gasped as his fingers stroked over the fabric of her panties. "Dirty boy~!"

Jaune chuckled as he continued to kiss and suckle up on her neck. The young man wasn't much of a man in many regards, but what he lacked in knowledge or skill, he made up for in his experimentation and learning. He felt Yang's hands fumble with his belt buckle until she unlatched the leather garment and tossed it to the floor.

Now it was Yang's turn to make Jaune moan as she rubbed his hard member through his boxers. She giggled as the growing size continued it's reign of impressing her. She had caught glimpses of his growing bulge here and "accidentally" felt him up after tripping there, but she had never been this close to it, feeling the heat on her hands, and the slickness of his precum on her fingers. She shivered at how close she was.

Every fiber of their being screamed for them to remove their remaining fabric and pounce the other. Hearts thundered with desire as breaths heaved their impulses further. But clarity grasped them once more, for a brief moment. Whether it was him, or her who had the idea first, neither could tell, but they both spoke at once.

"Wait!" The two chuckled with flushed faces, before Jaune sat back for his girlfriend to sit up. Their eyes lingered over one another for a moment before Jaune spoke. "Uh, do you want to go first, or...?"

"No, no! Go ahead." Yang smiled.

"Okay." Jaune took a deep breath. "I... really want to do this, but... I don't want to do it if you don't want to."

"I'm fine with doing it." Yang placed her hand over his. "But only if you are. Are you?"

"I am, I am." Jaune sighed. "But... there is one thing."

"What's that?" Yang asked.

"Well, uh," Jaune nervously chuckled, "I was so excited to jump in that I, uh, forgot to grab my gear."

"Grab your gear?" Yang cocked her brow. "What, are we going hunting?"

"No, I mean, uh..." Jaune scatched the back of his head. "I didn't bring any protection."

"Oh!" Yang scratched her head. "Yeah, that's kind of important. Especially since I'm not on the pill, either."

"So, we should hold off until we're ready. Physically, mentally, emotionally..."

"...and elasticly." Yang chuckled, earning a chuckle in return from Jaune. "I'm glad you came this far with me, though."

"Of course, Yang, I..." Jaune shut his mouth. He blushed as he looked down. He almost scared her away with being too open with her.

"Hey." Yang lifted Jaune's chin to look him in the eyes. "I know, and I feel the same way." Her hand slipped along his chin to behind his head and pulled herself closer. Jaune met her, and the two shared a tender kiss, softly breathing as if their hearts were in sync. She pulled away, smiling at him. Nothing could ruin this moment.

Suddenly, the door rattled with a clack as it came unlocked, and the light flicked to life. The curtains suddenly spread wide to let in natural light as the two were exposed to the all-seeing eyes of Professors Ozpin and Goodwitch, the latter of whom was red in the face. Behind them, the rest of Team RWBY stood outside, with varying reactions of shock, disgust, and dismay.

"Oh..."

"Shit..."

[doublefaceliker2808]

Spring Evening's Respite - Adasakura 1

Niki: Sigh… to think the store manager would find us just to go and insist that we “Don’t worry! Please taste-test to your heart’s content!”... 

Being forced to stay there until the store closed was the worst… Don’t schools teach you that you don’t eat if you don’t work? 

Rinne: My bad~ But well, aintcha working there anyways? It’s only fair if you listen to what the manager says, right~? 

Niki: Ughhh… so that’s the excuse you’re using…!? You’re a monster of a customer! 

Kohaku: You two, ‘s already late, so stop bickerin’ over nothing. Who knows what kinds of complaints we’re gonna get if we don’t shut up? 

HiMERU: It would be irksome to lose sleep over this idiot, so HiMERU will be returning to his room now.

…Oh dear. HiMERU accidentally said what was on his mind without thinking. Apologies, Amagi.

Rinne: Oooh? Has Merumeru come around to voicing his thoughts out now– 

Tell me more ♪ Bare your truest feelings to me ♪

HiMERU: What’s with this? You’re creepy. 

Rinne: I meaan, if you are capable of showing off your deepest thoughts to me, that means we’ve become real tight knit, yea? 

So c’mon, tell me what you really think. Pretty please, HiMERU-chan? 

HiMERU: …….. (silently leaves the room) 

Niki: He completely ignored you.

Kohaku: Of course he ignored ya. Aren’t ya lucky he’s not completely pissed off? 

Rinne-han, you’re gonna mess up soon enough if ya keep teasin’ everyone so much. 

Rinne: Right. Sucks but I guess we’re done now that Merumeru’s like that. 

It’s time for me to see a new tomorrow and sleep! I gotta wake up for the pachinko parlor’s opening ♪

Niki: Is gambling the only thing that comes out of your mouth~?

Ah well, I can’t say much myself since I’ll be checking out the preopening for this new restaurant in Saison Avenue tomorrow. 

I’ll go now. Goodnight, Kohaku-chan ♪

Kohaku: Mmhm. See ya later, Rinne-han and Niki-han. 

Off they go. Jeez, you could mistake us for hurricanes with how noisy we are. 

Aight. I’ve got a personal job tomorrow, ‘s ‘bout time I head back to my room. 

…Hm? No one’s around, but the TV’s been on this whole time? I didn’t notice ‘cause of all the ruckus. 

(...I see. Looks like the news is broadcastin’ cherry blossoms right now.)

(They’re bloomin’ early this year… Spring’s right ‘round the corner.)

(Thinkin’ about it, the cherry blossoms were in full bloom last year– back when I was let out of my zashikirou.)

(It’s already been a year since I became an idol. So many things have changed, huh?)

(When I first became a part o’ Crazy:B, I reckoned it’d be best if we retired as soon as possible. And yet, we had a full resurrection during MDM.) 

(And then there’s me allyin’ with Madara-han in Double Face.)

(To think my life could be as fulfillin’ as it has been just from this past year.)

(I can’t wait to see what new things the next year has in store–)

(...Aha, it’s a bit too early to get excited.)

Err, where did the remote go… It’s usually around here… 

Madara: If you’re talking about the remote control, I’m preetty sure it fell under the table? Here, is this what you’re looking for? 

Kohaku: Madara-han? What are you doin’ with all that luggage? 

I can guess that yer not on some late-night excursion, but aren’t ya dressed up a bit weird for the dorms? 

Madara: Ahaha, is this more interesting than finding the remote? 

This is actually skiing equipment. I just came back from some modeling shoots up in the snowy mountains.  

I hit it off pretty well with the producer there, you see. So they gave me secondhand skiing gear in hopes of introducing skiing culture to more of the youth, and I just had to take up the offer. ♪

Kohaku: So that’s why I wasn’t seein’ yer face lately. 

Honestly, I was quite worried 'cause ya disappeared so suddenly. 

I’d figured the ever-so-elusive Madara-han would come back as soon as ya left, but can’t ya try at least try ta check HoldHands?

Madara: Hmhm. “I may be goin’ abroad next month, is there anythin’ scheduled for Double Face in that time?” Well, I’ve checked now! 

I mean, Double Face is more akin to a side job for us, so you don’t really need my permission for anything… 

There’s nothing planned for Double Face at the moment, so fly to your heart’s content.  

That Gatekeeper was an unexpected threat during SS, but he’s already left. We can enjoy some peace, even if it’s only for now. 

Because of that, wouldn’t now be the perfect time to also want to stretch your wings? 

I’m not one to say, but you should still show some filial piety towards your family while you still can! 

Since the Oukawa family’s named after cherry blossoms(1), how about you pay your house a visit when cherry blossoms are in full bloom? 

Kohaku: There ya go, talkin’ bout irresponsible things again… 

Who do you think you are to lecture me on this with that unfilial mouth, huh? 

Madara: Hahaha! I’m the kinda guy who’s telling you to learn from others’ mistakes ♪

Your entire clan’s safe, right? I made sure to check. 

I understand that it’s your duty to watch over Tsukasa-san since he’s the head of the family, but I think now’s a good opportunity for you to visit home again. 

Since they’ve been broadcasting cherry blossoms on TV lately, you could excuse yourself by saying they made you feel homesick ♪

Kohaku: Cherry blossoms are just fleetin’ flowers that drop dead as quickly as they bloom. They’re nothin’ but creepy to me. 

If they’re gonna bloom, can’t they hang on a lil’ better? What’s the point of lettin’ em collect in muddy ditches like dead bodies? 

Oh wait, we’ve been talkin’ a while. I gotta wake up early tomorrow, so I’ll be headin’ off. 

Goodnight, Madara-han. 

Madara: Of course. Goodnight, Kohaku-san. 

Madara: ………..

“Cherry blossoms are creepy”, huh. That’s the complete opposite of what I think.  

(It feels especially like so lately, but I guess we aren’t compatible after all?)

(From the beginning, our relationship’s always been on a rocky boat— It should be about time for the tides to tip it over. In the end, all I’m doing is entangling you further into the underworld) 

(Truth be told, you’re so dazzling when you’re next to Crazy:B that there’s barely any trace of your past. It makes me worry beyond belief)

(I was never able to become a hero after all, huh.)

(Sorry. It’s supposed to be my role to guide you, who knows nothing of the outside world)

(I’d become so desperate to give Kanata-san that flower field that I’d never had the chance) (2)

(At the very least, let me play the role of a villain. I must carry out my role, right?)

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

Oukawa in Japanese is 桜河, where the 桜 (ou) also means sakura/cherry blossoms 

Reference to Madara’s first !! themed scout story, Myriad of Colors and Flowers. I very heavily recommend reading it if you’re interested in Madara (and his relationship with Kanata + his family)!

------------------------------------------------------------------------------

 From some quick googling "adasakura" seems to be from a buddhist monk’s poem, referring to how cherry blossoms fall very quickly, and is a metaphor for the fleetingness of things.

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[so-this-happened-i-guess]

Detective, guide me?

[Goro Akechi x Reader]

Summary: You’re visiting your cousin who lives in Tokyo and you just happen to meet the Detective Prince, Goro Akechi.

Warnings: NONE

Author’s Note: I feel like we need more of Akechi, am i right? Sure I am. Just a short story, please bear with me.

https://archiveofourown.org/works/32248585

“Like I said, cousin, I have literally no idea where I am or where I am supposed to be going,“ you huffed as you talked to your beloved cousin on the phone, while also being completely lost in Shibuya. Well, it seemed like such a good idea to visit him while he was here during his probation. Now you were not so sure anymore as you stood completely dumbfounded next to the famous Buchiko statue.

Out of self pity you reached to rub the dog’s paw, listening to your cousin’s attempt to give you the easiest possible directions. Easy, my ass, you thought bitterly.

You eyed the people go on and about their business and you caught yourself spacing out, suddenly the voice that spoke to you on the phone became a white noise.

“You got that? Just make sure you get to Yongen-Jaya. I can pick you up there at the station...“ your cousin hummed, a cat-like noise in the background that made you think the cat was telling him something. Ha, ridiculous. Thank Anime for those thoughts.

You blinked once - then twice. You felt hot and cold at the same time and you glanced around nervously. What was it he just said?

“Uh- yeah! Got’cha! No prob. Be there. Y-Yongen-Chia- was it?” you stuttered.

“What? No, Yongen-Jaya. Good luck, I gotta do something now,” your cousin laughed. “I trust you can do it!”

“W-wait- wait don’t hang up- Wait- Yongen-Jaya- how there?” you called desperately but the call was already disconnected.

Awesome-- you’re doomed. Were you supposed to just call a taxi? Surely that’d be the best course of action-

You had to look very lost and pathetic, because a young man approached you. You weren’t paying him much attention at first, frantically searching on your phone for any help internet could give you.

“I apologise for eavesdropping,“ the man said, forcing you to look up at him. You realised two things: his voice sweet like sugar and his face as handsome as that detective’s you saw on the TV just the other day-- huh, what?

“You were.. eavesdropping..? On me?“ you questioned suspiciously.

“Oh yes, how rude of me, I know. I overheard you’re headed to... Yongen-Jaya?“ he asked, giving you a sweet smile.

“You’re hearing things, sir,“ you remained cautious as you looked up and down his slim figure. You noticed the familiar uniform he was wearing, the attaché case with an A. in a circle. The reddish-brown eye colour that somehow reminded you of red wine.

He laughed softly, a dangerous glint in his eyes.

“My, I understand your concerns, but let me assure you, I approached you with good intentions. I, myself, am headed there. There’s this restaurant I’d like to visit.“ he hummed, still smiling.

Well, you should’t look given horse in the mouth if he was offering to help, right?

“What’s your name, sir?“ you mumbled, at this point just making sure.

This question seemed to take him by surprise as he blinked at you, his shock bringing you just a little satisfaction.

“Goro Akechi, Miss. I am-“

“Oh, so it is you,” you gasped quietly, covering your mouth. “Sure have guts talking to random person on the street. Should I start screaming that I see ‘the Detective Prince’?“ you teased, really just testing his intentions.

“Please don’t. Don’t you need help getting somewhere?” he smiled innocently, which took the wind out of your sails.

You nodded, defeated.

“Let me help you.”

With that, you followed Goro Akechi.

_____________

The train was packed.

You could not believe the amount of people that managed to squeeze in, and it was even more shocking to you that it felt comforting when the detective stood between you and the others, shielding you from the rest of the passengers, as you stood with your back pressed against the train’s window.

Admittedly, it was a little weird having his hands just centimetres away from your head on both the left and the right side of you, but he was steadying himself from falling or being pushed on you. What a gentleman.

In return, you were holding his briefcase.

“I apologise, i didn’t think it’d be quite this crowded at this hour in the evening,“ Akechi mumbled, as if annoyed by the others.

“It’s alright, not your fault,“ you offered him a shy smile.

Akechi smiled back at you, keeping as much distance as he could when he felt someone’s backpack press into his back, forcing him closer to you. He still tried to keep calm.

“You know, you seem more patient on TV,“ you thought out loud.

“I try,“ he mumbled, eyeing you as you let out a quiet giggle. Well, that was cute.

"So, you said you're going to some restaurant?" you asked, fancying the idea of trying to have a small talk with the detective.

"It's famous for curry and coffee," Akechi nodded.

That made you pause a little. You were pretty sure your cousin was saying that exact same thing. Curry and coffee of the best quality. A restaurant located in a back alley with a French-like name. Hmm, name. What was it called again?

"-- anyways, in case you were interested, thats the restaurant's name," you caught the last portion of whatever Akechi was saying.

"Huh?" you blinked up at him, now actually feeling his breath on your skin as the crowd made him close the distance between the two of you almost completely. Centimetres apart, literally.

For reasons unknown, you felt your cheeks heat up. On the other side, it was pretty warm these days and the train was pretty full. Yup.

"Quite the habit of not listening, huh? I wonder if you have in common with whoever you're visiting," Akechi voiced his thoughts with a small snicker, either ignoring or not noticing the blush on your face.

Don't be stupid, he was a detective, he had to notice--

“No, not really. He’s a really good listener, actually,“ you shook your head slightly, gripping Akechi’s case tighter.

Akechi didn’t answer verbally, giving you a small nod instead. At this point his elbows were bent and his forearms also rested against the window. So close.  You were pretty you’ve read about scenes like those online.

“Can I know his name and your destination, then? I could just escort you there, seeing how close we’ve gotten over our short ride,” Akechi said, an almost amused look on his face when you choked on your saliva. He meant literally. He meant literally!

“Akira Kurusu. Uhh, I am not sure what the place is called-“

“Akira Kurusu?“ Akechi blinked.

You nodded shyly. Did you say something wrong? Surely not?

“Then, assuming you weren’t listening when I first mentioned the restaurant’s name, are you headed to LeBlanc?“

Your gasp was all he needed to hear and you heard him sigh, mutter a quiet ‘Seriously,’ under his breath.

“Is there something wrong?“ you frowned a little. “Do you know my cousin?“

“Ah yeah, We... have met. A few times, actually. Yes.“ Akechi gritted through his teeth quietly. Well, what a full 180° turn in the atmosphere.

You couldn’t help but giggle. This was quite interesting. You loved to annoy your cousin and seeing Akechi’s partially annoyed expression gave you ideas.

Maybe you found a partner in crime.

_____________

Akechi helped you step out of the train, holding your wrist tenderly as he pulled you aside as the crowd flowed through the station. He held your wrist for a bit, watching the people exit and enter the train.

“Here, your thing,“ you mumbled, pushing the briefcase into his free hand, letting him hold onto your wrist as long as he thought was necessary.

“Hmhm,“ he nodded. He fell quiet after he confirmed your destination and Akira’s name.

“Does it bother you that much?“ you asked.

“Does what bother me?“ he frowned a little.

“That Akira’s my cousin, that you volunteered to take me to LeBlanc,” you shrugged nonchalantly, noticing he still didn’t let go of your wrist.

“You said it, I volunteered - and I am headed there too, either way. And it was just... an unexpected information, don’t make it a big deal,“ he mumbled, looking around. “Let’s get going.“

Holding your wrist, he pulled you along, avoiding people as he followed the path he knew so well.

What a tsundere, you thought. That meant Akira knew this man too, then, right? You’d ask him later. Now, all you could do was drag yourself behind this fast paced detective.

_____________

“(Y/N)- finally- why didn’t you call m---“ Akira paused in whatever he was about to say as was left speechless after he just opened the door to LeBlanc to greet you - and Akechi who was still holding your wrist-- wait, what?

“Cousin!“ you beamed, throwing yourself at Akira who caught you in his arms, holding you close - and you realised it was because he was just kind of glaring at the man who guided you here.

“Hello, Kurusu,“ Akechi faked his famous TV smile. “I apologise for this late intrusion, but I happened to run into (Y/N) here and seeing the lost look in your cousin’s eyes, I couldn’t not-help,“ he explained, oh so sweetly.

Akira rolled his eyes, glancing at you as he held your shoulders.

“I’m really sorry, Akira! I just felt so bad calling or texting you again, it felt so embarrassing! And he happened to be headed the same way!“ you apologised as you wiggled out of Akira’s hold.

“... Sure, alright. Uh. I will make you coffee on the house, tomorrow?“ Akira mumbled to Akechi who beamed in response.

“Splendid, how kind of you, Kurusu.”

“Yeah. Uh, (Y/N)... I will ... just...  prepare your dinner, you must be hungry... uh... say thanks to Akechi...?“ Akira mumbled, actually unsure how to talk to the detective when you were present. He turned on his heels, shaking his head as he went inside the restaurant.

You glanced at Akira and then turned to Akechi who crossed arms over his chest.

“Thank you so much for the help. I am sure I’d be still at Shibuya station if it weren’t for you!“ you laughed nervously.

Akechi gave you a small nod.

The silence stretched, but you weren’t sure you wanted to say goodbye to the detective-guide that you met today.

You grasped all of the courage you could as you leant to peck Akechi’s cheek quickly.

“Please, be my guide again, sometime soon, detective,“ you smiled sweetly and then rushed inside the restaurant to bother your cousin.

Akechi stood outside with a dumbfounded expression, eyes wide as he watched you disappear inside LeBlanc. He blinked once, then twice, as a smile spread on his face. His gloved fingertips touched his cheek where your lips touched his skin.

“I’d love that,“ he mumbled, to no one in particular.

[pahrak-the-sinnoh-slizer]

Right of Law, Section XXVII

(Zaekura meets again with the Le-Koronans, while the situation surrounding Civitas Magna’s kolhii tournament begins to escalate.)

“Everyone will be so happy to see you!” Tamaru said as she bounced down the path.  “We were all worried sick!”

Zaekura walked a few steps behind her, flanked by Charla, Antroz, and Emsar.  “Yeah, dealing with Atero wasn’t exactly easy, but we managed.  I’m hoping it’ll go a little smoother when we have to take the fight to them.”

Tamaru hummed.  “That’d be nice...you controlling Atero.  Ah, here we are!”

They arrived in a clearing lined with scores of people: Matoran, Toa, Glatorian, and Agori of all kinds, some on solid ground while others perched in the surrounding trees, creating a circular wall of eyes all trained on the visitors.  Zaekura felt like she was trying to walk underwater.

“Okay, everyone’s here!  Go on, Zaekura.”

“Right, of course.  Um…”

She found herself unable to recall the words she had prepared.  Charla set a hand on her shoulder then, reminding her to breathe, and she was able to relax a little.

“First of all,” Zaekura said, “I’d like to thank you all for welcoming us.  It isn’t lost on me how out of the ordinary this gesture is, nor the implicit risk my being here carries.  My name is Zaekura.  Up until recently, I lived a very quiet life...but now, the Great Beings have it out for me, since I’m one of the rare few who possess the same potential as them.  I’ve had to fight to defend myself, and it’s been…quite an adjustment.  But now I realize this isn’t just about me.  Countless lives have been destroyed by the Great Beings, and countless more live in constant fear of them.  And I want that to end.  So now, we’re fighting to stop the Great Beings and take control of Spherus Magna, to reform it into a place where nobody has to live in fear.”

Quiet murmurings rippled through the crowd.  To Zaekura, it was nearly deafening.

“I know that I can’t do something like this on my own, so I’m asking for help from anyone who’ll listen.  We’ve approached you because we think Bota Magna’s natural resources would be a big help to our cause, but if anyone wants to join the fight, we’ll gladly take you.  No matter what, though, I want you all to know this: you are welcome any time.  Even if I go back empty-handed, each and every one of you will be free to come and go from my territory as you please, and we’ll fight just as hard to defend you.  I don’t need anything in return for that.”

The chattering grew louder.  Kiina emerged from the crowd then, saying, “You say you’ll defend us?  How do you plan to do that?  You’re provoking the Great Beings, fighting nonstop against an insurmountable enemy.  That doesn’t sound safe in the slightest.”

Zaekura breathed.  “I understand your concern.  There will absolutely be risk, I won’t deny that.  Our current forces include several Makuta, a few hundred Rahkshi, the militia of both Xia and Mahri-Nui, and a large number of Vorox under the command of the Sand Lord.  Several individuals have already requested to be part of a team dedicated to protecting Bota Magna, if you’ll have them.”

Kiina grumbled—not a very clear response, but it was the only one she offered.  Taipu was next to emerge, waving and calling, “Hey, Zaekura!  Did you get a chance to try out Nuparu’s invention yet?”

She smiled.  “I was able to take a look at it and test it out.  That’s one impressive machine!  We’re still working to reproduce and install them, but we should be using it in a matter of days.  Thanks again, Nuparu.”

Taipu shook Nuparu, who tried to hide his grin.  Zaekura waited while the chatter continued.  Soon, Takua came forward, saying, “I can’t speak for everyone, but...I think you make a pretty good case, Zaekura.  The fact is, we are living in fear—I don’t think that’ll change much whether we stay here or come back to the city.  Being that close to the fight is definitely scary, so I understand why someone might prefer to stay here.  But, a chance to change things, to make a future where we don’t feel like we have to hide...that sounds pretty good too.  If you show me a team that I’m convinced can keep Bota Magna safe, I’ll be willing to fight alongside you.”

New energy rushed into Zaekura.  “Thank you!  I’ll bring them out to meet with you as soon as possible!”

The Le-Koronans talked amongst themselves.  Taipu and Nuparu came into the clearing, the former saying, “We’re definitely coming back with you!  This is so exciting!”

Gradually, more and more Le-Koronans followed suite.  One of them, a Toa of Earth with weathered black and purple armor, came up to Zaekura and smiled at her.

“I can tell that you have a good heart, dear,” she said.  “I’m a bit too attached to these woods to leave now, but I want to offer you what help I can.”

“Oh, thank you very much, uh…”

“The name’s Korgot, dear.  I’ve become very familiar with the lay of the land here, so if you’re looking for spots to mine or to log, I’ve got a few in mind.  Just promise me you won’t overdo it.  The people are important, but we have to take care of the jungle itself, too.”

“Korgot.  Yes, I promise.  Thank you so much!”

They briefly discussed when would be a good time to send a mining team, and then Zaekura answered the questions of a few more Le-Koronans until it seemed everyone’s decision had been made.  She gazed over them all, ultimately turning to Charla.

“I’d say this went well.”

Charla giggled.  “I’m inclined to agree.  Is there anything more you wanted to add, or do we just have that final matter?”

Zaekura glanced back at Emsar, and the Vortixx came to her side.  Turning back towards the Le-Koronans remaining behind, she said, “There’s one last thing before we go.  I wanted to let you know that Emsar here is venturing deeper into Bota Magna; she’ll be fine on her own, I just didn’t want anyone to be surprised if they saw her.”

Takua looked up at Emsar.  “Alright.  Where’s she headed, if you don’t mind me asking?”

“Valwahi.”

The clearing grew eerily still.  Quietly, Takua repeated, “Valwahi?”

Zaekura nodded.  “Like I said, I’m asking anyone who’ll listen.”

“Do you think they will?  The Valwahans aren’t exactly the most understanding bunch.”

“I have to try.  Even if we can’t become allies, maybe I can at least make peace with them—that’d be one huge load off my plate when getting things in order once this is all over.  Though, I could be thinking a little far ahead with that...”

“Heh...I guess a little optimism doesn’t have to hurt.”  Facing Emsar, Takua said, “Good luck, then.  Don’t hesitate to ask for help if things go wrong.”

“Much appreciated, but you needn’t worry about me,” Emsar said.  “I’m quite prepared should events take a dire turn.”

The Le-Koronans began to scatter, as did Emsar.  Antroz said, “Emsar.  Please do be careful.”

She grinned back at her.  “You too, Makuta?  I thought you of all people would know better.  Your lack of faith in me is demoralizing.”

“It is precisely because I have faith in you that I’m letting you go alone.  This is something that only you can do.”

Emsar paused, then turned away.  “Hmhm...you’re still no fun.”  She disappeared before anything else could be said.  

Zaekura turned back to her party, now far larger than the one she had entered with. “Alright.  Let’s get everyone back to Xia!”

“Um…”

She realized Tamaru had come up behind her.  “What’s up?”

Tamaru fidgeted, eyes scanning back and forth over the dirt.  “I, uh...I’ve been giving it a lot of thought...I didn’t say anything before because I hadn’t really decided, but now, I…”  She shut her eyes tight.  “I-I want to come with you!”

“Really?  If you need more time to think, that’s okay.”

Tamaru shook her head.  “No...I need to go before I lose my nerve.  I mean, I am nervous, but...if I can really be myself around everyone...I guess I feel like I just have to know.”

Zaekura nodded.  “I’ll do whatever I can to help.  Are you ready to go?”

After taking one last look back into the jungle, Tamaru nodded.  “Yeah.  Let’s go!”

***

Hewkii raced down the field, battling for control of the ball with a Toa of Earth.  He pulled back his kolhii stick; the Toa of Earth, expecting him to knock the ball forward, shifted his weight to block.  Hewkii then swung his stick around, hit the ball back the way they had come, and immediately leapt back to scoop it up.

“The Hydruka’s Hewkii has finally wrested the ball away from Dosne!  He’s headed right for Kazi, and the Iconox Iron Wolves’ goalie sure doesn’t look ready for him!”

Hewkii carefully observed the Toa of Ice he needed to aim around.  Kazi was laser-focused, but stiff in his movements.  He could hear Dosne approaching—at the last second, he threw the ball with all the force he could muster, and it sailed just past Kazi to the cheers of the crowd.

In a special balcony high up the arena’s wall, Ekimu laughed at the spectacle.   “That Hewkii’s pretty good!  Maybe I shouldn’t kill him after all.”

Standing next to him, Ahkmou chuckled.  He busied himself jotting down notes for an article, but his thoughts were elsewhere.  This is the opposite of what I wanted.  The tournament was supposed to distract these common idiots from the rebellion, but everyone’s heard that Hewkii’s defected—with him center stage, I’m sure it’s all they’re thinking about!

He joined Ekimu’s cheer as another ball was set into play.

Sure, no one’s stupid enough to speak out while Lord Ekimu is right here, but that’s ignoring the bigger picture.  This is long-term, delicate work.  If I don’t think of something fast, it’s all going to go right down the drain…

Hewkii leapt in to intercept Dosne’s shot.  Swinging around, he then sent the ball flying back across the court, catching Kazi completely by surprise.  The crowd roared.

“Incredible!” the announcer cried.  “The Mahri-Nui Hydruka have won by a landslide!  Looks like they’ll be moving onto the next round, folks!  I know I don’t want to be the team unlucky enough to go up against them!”

Ekimu applauded with the crowd, but his hands steadily fell still.  “Alright, game’s over.  You can come out now.”

Ahkmou looked over his shoulder, expecting to see one of the Makuta coming to join them.  But he couldn’t quite make out what he was looking at.  The shadows in the balcony moved strangely, almost as if they had a will of their own, refusing to surrender the visitor to the light; all Ahkmou could see clearly was an organic purple face with numerous ridges over where a nose and mouth should have been.  Confused and terrified at the sight, Ahkmou could only remain silent.

“Forgive the intrusion, Lord Ekimu,” the face said.  “We wanted to consult with you, to clarify our orders before acting.”

Ekimu continued to watch the field as the two teams exited.  “Who are you?”

“I am Eliminator, of Odina.  The Keeper’s realized that the operatives sent previously failed to carry out Lord Heremus’s orders, so my partner and I have been dispatched to rectify the situation.”

“So that’s it.  You want Hewkii, I take it?”

Eliminator’s face moved, the shadows moving with it.  “He seemed like a good place to start...but, since you haven’t intervened thus far, we suspected you had another plan.”

“I wouldn’t say that.  I just don’t want the kolhii tournament interrupted.  Once his team’s done, take him if you want.”

Ahkmou jumped as a sudden burst of energy appeared in the space next to Eliminator.  The energy grew into a swirling portal, and out of it stepped another being: he was tall, at least twice the height of a Matoran, clad in blue and gold armor that shone through the darkness that clung to his companion.  Ahkmou didn’t recognize the gold mask he wore, but he found his eyes more drawn to the enormous double blade he carried.

Kneeling, he said, “If I may, Lord Ekimu.  I think there is a much more fruitful route we can take.”

Ekimu grunted.

“Once the tournament has concluded, we will see that Hewkii and his team remain here in Civitas Magna...and be sure that the whole planet knows it.  I have heard that Zaekura is quite the bleeding heart, and I am certain that if she knows one of her allies is being held here, she will march in an effort to save him.  Once we have lured her in, Eliminator and I will capture her and bring her to Lord Heremus—what happens to her associates will be no concern of ours then.”

“So we bait her out.  What was your name?”

The being grinned.  “I am Brutaka, my lord.”

At this, Ekimu finally turned around.  After staring at Brutaka for a few moments, he said, “I thought you sounded familiar.  Good.  If you’re here, then the Keeper must be done messing around.”

The crowd began to cheer as new teams took the field.

“Go ahead,” Ekimu said as he turned back to watch.  “As long as you don’t make a move before the tournament’s over, I couldn’t care less.”

Brutaka nodded.  “Of course, Lord Ekimu.  If you’ll excuse us.”

Another portal opened, and Brutaka disappeared into it.  Eliminator was already gone by the time Ahkmou turned to look.  Facing the field once again, the Toa thought, Odinans...and they’re going to draw Zaekura here...how am I going to cover that up?  Can our public opinion survive something like this?  If we lose control of the people…

“Ahkmou.”

The Toa started.  “Y-Yes, my lord?”

“You’re nervous.”

“Ah...I was just shaken by such a sudden arrival.  I’m sorry, my lord: I’ll focus on my job.”

“Good.”

Ahkmou watched as two new teams met in the center of the field.  If we lose control of the people...then that means I failed to do what the Great Beings asked.  What will happen to me then?

Outside the stadium, Gaaki and Tarduk regrouped near the south entrance.  Flipping through her notes, Gaaki said, “Well, that should be enough of a sample size.  Any favorites among the people you asked?”

Tarduk squatted next to the wall with a sigh.  “The Hydruka are the talk of the town, surprise surprise.  Remains to be seen if Ahkmou will even let us publish all this.”

“Same on my end.  A couple of die-hards for the other teams, but they hardly have enough to say to fill a feature.  A full day’s work and we’re probably going to end up with a block under the horoscopes…”

Tarduk craned his neck.  A particularly dense section of crowd had gathered on the other side of the street, thick enough that he couldn’t see exactly what had drawn them.  He went to push his way closer, Gaaki following for lack of any other distraction, but the Ga-Matoran soon began to fall behind.  Glancing back at her, Tarduk saw that her eyes had gone wide.

“What’s the matter?” Tarduk asked.

“You mean you don’t…”  She shook her head.  “Er, right, you can’t see from here.  Come on!”

Gaaki dove into the crowd.  Tarduk began to have second thoughts, but, figuring it was too late now, went in after her.  At the epicenter was a Toa of Stone wearing a Komau, with various stone carvings laid out before him on a blanket.  The sign behind him made the Agori stiffen: “CARVINGS FOR SALE!  ALL PROFITS HELP NYNRAHN REFUGEES!”

“Gaaki,” Tarduk said, grabbing her by the arm.

“I’m just looking,” she said, picking up a small carving.

“With your hands?”

“Yes.”

The Toa of Stone turned towards them.  “Anything you’re interested in?” Gaaki set the carving down.  “Just browsing.  This is impressive work, uh…”

“Onewa.”

“Onewa...oh, you made the statue they added to District 2458’s historical center!”

“So someone does remember!  Maybe that commission was worth it after all.”  He turned away for a moment to make a sale.

“What brings you here?” Tarduk asked.

“I’m an old friend of one of the players in the tourney.  You know Hewkii?”

Tarduk stiffened further.  “...I’ve heard quite a lot about him.”

“We go way back.  Though, I ended up not being able to get a ticket...but, at least I have a chance to sell some of this work.  We need all the help we can get.”

Gaaki prepared to ask something.  Tarduk tugged on her arm.  She debated continuing anyway, but then the crowd began to quiet, and they both turned to see why.  Their spines turned to ice at the sight of Vamprah cutting through the masses.

“Ah,” Onewa said, climbing to his feet, “that took longer than expected.  Not the Makuta I was prepared for, either.”

Vamprah stalked forward without a word.  Just as Onewa was about to say something more, the Makuta snatched him up in his claws and hurled him against the arena wall.  Total stillness fell over the crowd.  Turning to the remaining carvings, Vamprah waved one hand and unleashed a burst of Plasma, melting them in a matter of seconds.  Then, he turned around to see Onewa slowly getting to his feet.

“Heh...you live up to your reputation,” the Toa said.  Blood could be seen dripping from the gashes left in his armor.  “Guess that’s what I get for pushing my luck, huh?”

Vamprah advanced towards him again.  Tarduk struggled to keep Gaaki still.

“But...I’m not gonna make it that easy for you.”  Onewa took something in his hand, a pellet of some kind, and grinned as he crushed it.  In the next instant, he was gone.

Vamprah froze.  He scanned his surroundings, but saw no trace of his target.  Giving one last look to the crowd, Vamprah unfurled his wings and took to the skies, slowly coasting towards the inner city.  Gradually, the crowd scattered, while Gaaki just stood staring at the still-warm slag that had been beautiful carvings mere seconds ago.

“He got out,” Tarduk said.

“Yeah...this time.  But with Vamprah hunting the Nynrahns, their chances look pretty bleak, don’t they?”

Tarduk sighed.  “What can we actually do, Gaaki?  If we step out of line, we’re going to disappear just like Kodan.”

“I know!”  Gaaki turned and rubbed her temples.  After a bit of thought, she said, “Tarduk...don’t tell Ahkmou we were here to see this.”

The Agori raised an eyebrow.  “Why not?”

Gaaki locked eyes with him.  “Please, just don’t.  He can’t know.  If he does...then nobody else will.”

It took Tarduk a long time to decide on his answer.  “Alright.  But there’s nothing else I can do to help you, Gaaki.  Terrible as things are getting, I just don’t see an opening yet…”

Gaaki nodded.  They parted ways then, Tarduk heading into the stadium while Gaaki found a secluded bench to rest on.  She glanced around, making sure no one was looking, and then pulled at the corner of her breastplate, opening it just long enough to remove a small crystal she quickly tucked into her bag.

A few witnesses are easy to dismiss.  But if everyone sees what happened, then at the very least they’ll have to work a lot harder to lie.  I’ll need to be careful about exactly what footage I use...but by this time tomorrow, I’ll make sure everyone can see the truth.

[transjinako]

I’ve been feeling kinda sick lately but hey here’s Masamune i really hope you guys like her 

Saber: Masamune 

Parameters: 

Strength: B

Agility: C+

Endurance: C

Luck: A

Mana: A

NP: EX

Traits

Territory Creation EX

Skills

Sword Creation EX: It is believed that Masamune had perfected the Nie style of sword making. Her blades gleam with the utmost beauty and divinity, they all share a trait of being extremely capable against Evil aligned beings while also being empowered specifically when it is swung with truly good intention and action. When wielded by someone with ill intent or action, or when swung onto the innocent, it won’t even cut, reflecting the wishes of it’s creator. If wielded by someone who is truly good, then the sword also acts as though possessed, guiding it’s user to wield it expertly and giving even normal people the ability to defeat the evil they would swing it against. 

Infinity: The opposite of Zero attained by swordsmen, the thought process of it goes, “If I am victorious once, I will never be defeated”. In practice it is akin to the second magic focused entirely on the sword. It causes the blade to appear as though it were a whisp or a constantly shifting illusion, in reality it is constantly both passing through many casualties and cutting through them to a single point that is the blade. Essentially, this means that to fight against this technique is to fight it across infinite realities. Losing even once causes that reality to impose itself on all others. 

To fight this technique one on one without also using it or Zero will assure your defeat, although, a great number of variables on the fight can help to defeat this technique. 

Also, the user is able to cut space between one area and another creating a passage between the two points. 

Noble Phantasm: 

Densetsu no Yawarakai-te伝説 十千夜寒  (Legend of Gentle Hands) 

Type: Anti Unit 

Rank: EX

Description: 

Masamune pinpoints her sword on a future in which the opponent is cut by it, and once it is decided, it is repeated throughout the many parallel dimensions in which it was decided as well. The sword itself gains a great amount of divinity in that moment as it swings toward the opponent. Once cut, thousands upon thousands of cuts are applied all at once, only a god or one with a truly ridiculous level of the Battle Continuation Skill could hope to live through this attack and even then there would be little left. 

Description of Servant: 

Masamune is more of a reclusive sort. She doesn’t quite enjoy large crowds of people nor does she really like showing off, however don’t mistake this for any out right shyness. She cares for others quite a lot, and subscribes mostly to the tougher sort of love at times, she makes what she thinks of others known and can be quite scathing at that. Still, she’s always happy to lend a very patient ear to anyone who might be troubled or simply need someone to talk to. Masamune of course is interested in swords and swordsmen a like, but mainly swords, she can be a bit pompous at times though, if she perceives a sword with faults that her own don’t contain. 

She can’t help but love the heroic, selfless type either. In her own opinion, if you aren’t fighting for good nor for a love of others, then there’s no reason to be fighting in the first place. On that note she can forgive those who fight for themselves and their own beliefs, but sees that as a dangerously teetering scale. 

About that Patient part also, there are only two people who can truly test her patience and that’s Muramasa and Musashi, who she also sees as her children. 

Interactions with Other servants.

Musashi: Chipper as always, Musash-chi? I hope you haven’t been causing trouble for anyone in the kitchen, or troubling that poor hime, or troubling others at random to start fights you know you can win? Ara? Is that sweat on your brow, Musash-chi? Mhm, come here, i’ll dab it right away with Musashi-Muramasa, hows that sound?

Muramasa: Agh, my most foolish student has arrived. Huh, I should repeat that? I said MY MOST FOOLISH, BULLHEADED, OLD MAN OF A STUDENT HAS ARRIVED. Ohoh, your still as funny and small as always though, thinking glaring up at me like that. Hm? Another duel? Fine, embarrassing you in front of master is a nice pass time. 

Artoria(non altered) Servants: You there, white girl. Your weapon. Give it. I’m no thief, I only wish to look. Hm...yes...hmm...You europeans do enjoy your large weaponry, although, I can understand the need. This weapon however...it was cut from something quite….hm. I’ll give it back now, thank you for indulging me. 

Artoria(Altered) Servants: You, white girl, your weapon. Drop it. Can’t you feel the energy coming off of it? Its like a dog biting at the air waiting for a hand to come close enough. Eugh. I can’t be near you, these energies….disgusting…

Oda Nobunaga(Avenger): ...My student, I am troubled by something. Oda Nobunaga’s sword...whenever I am near them I feel the urge to tell them...that thing is trash. Anyone can see it plainly, its like a decoration in a room meant to start conversation. But. They seem to love it so much...urgh...student, you tell them. I can’t stand to watch this any longer.

Emiya Archer: Eh? Muramasa? You cook? You never cooked for me, tch, useless student. Oh no, don’t pretend to not know me. Well, since you apparently have taken up a knife than a hammer, I expect you to make your mother and teacher a lovely meal for all her efforts. No complaining, hop to it. (Clap Clap) 

Emiya Alter: Urgh, Muramasa, to think you’d let your emotions get the better of you. No, don’t say anything, I’ll kill you right here right now. I could not call myself your teacher if I did not. Come, my student, show me your still in there...

Scathach: ….Oh, were you looking for me student? Ah, sorry. I have recently found myself spending time with the Queen of the shadow lands, particularly in having her teach me the methods on how to create her famous Gae Bolg. Although, I always instinctively mold them into blades. We did have fun using them on each other afterwards though. Hmhm~ 

[not-your-average-hazbin]

Time to Unwind- Baxter x Alastor Fluff Story

The fish was busy working in the laboratory, slaving over his projects and studies. Working at his desk on reading a book on the “Chemistry of Poisons”, usually one of his favorite topics to look into… He was losing his focus slowly, but surely. He didn’t know what had gotten into him. He was nearly falling asleep, and it wasn’t even that late! Baxter was rubbing his eyes and adjusting his goggles. He attempted to read on, but couldn’t bring himself to do it. He felt off, unfocused. He took his glasses off and rested his head on the large book, using it almost like a pillow, his brain was so terribly scattered, he had to clear his head somehow. Baxter decided to put his work aside for a small while. And read for pleasure instead. He picked up the book he’d been working on, and sat on his blue velvet loveseat, spreading out on it, and laying down with a sigh.

Meanwhile, Alastor was rather bored, nothing to do. Most of the misfits had gone to bed, as he had no need for it, he didn’t sleep often. He knew he couldn’t mess with and or scare anyone or the princess would be dissatisfied, and he wasn’t in a place where he needed to hunt out in the woods for food. So he ended up teleporting to the laboratory with a snap of his fingers, to check on the fish that he knew fairly well. When he had nothing better to do he liked to tamper with his scientific sets up to see if he can eat any of his specimens. He would often be chewed out by the little fish, he just found it humorous. But when he did end up feeling nice, or to get himself out of the dog-house with Baxter, he would go around fetching him little dead things. Like mice, rats, and birds. Baxter wasn’t disgusted, he instead used them as specimens, they seemed to make him happy. Those were the specimens Alastor never ate. Nevertheless, he checked the fish’s bedroom first, no sign of him. Alastor opened the door back into the lab and saw Baxter, his little light on, reading a book. The freckles on his cheeks let off a dim glow along with the other bioluminescent markings on his small frame. Alastor’s already large smile widened unintentionally, and the tall demon skunk in the shadows making his way behind the little loveseat.

Baxter continued on reading, using his esca as a reading light. It was rather convenient this way. His goggles slid down his small bump of a nose. And continued on. Alastor slid up behind the small fish’s head, behind his slicked back greasy hair. He turned a few more pages, Alastor reading over his shoulder. Alastor couldn’t help it anymore so he softly said, as not to frighten him too terribly much.

“Hello Doctor~” He said in almost a sing-song tone.

Baxter jumped, and being the skittish thing he was he threw the book in the air and rolled off of the small couch with a yelp. Alastor seemed satisfied, and let out a small chuckle. Catching the book he was reading in mid-air with a single snap.

“A-Alastor! I told you to knock. Or announce yourself for that matter……” He was embarrassed. He stood up, dusted himself off and sat back down, now taking up less than half the seat because of his size.

“I apologize for startling you Baxter, Hmhm~ Would never do it intentionally…” He smirked as he said this. The Radio Demon grabbed the book Baxter had thrown and set it in the small fish’s lap. He looked at it and the said

“It’s alright, Erm…. why did you come down here anyways? Did you need something?” He asked.

“ No no, just passing through to check in. Nothing more.” Responded the deer fellow.

“Well, In that case…. I’ll be back to my book.” Said Baxter continuing with his reading, expecting The Radio Demon to leave. But Alastor didn’t leave, nor did he have the intent of leaving. He sat down by the fish, he sat there, completely entranced by his little light on the end of Baxter’s lure. It bobbed up and down as the scientist read. Alastor watched it so intently, his large red eyes went a bit static. The even made the staticy noises. Baxter tried to pay it no mind, but he was staring blankly at him. He thought it was extremely odd. He returned to his reading, trying to dismiss it.

He was able to do so, until he felt his lure move slightly. He looked up from the page he was reading, to see Alastor’s hand, poking his light. The fish froze. The teal spots on his face lit up brightly, his eyes were wide, and his light turned pink. Alastor looked at it with a quizzical look in his eyes now in place of the blank stare.

“It’s…. Rather beautiful…. It can change color?” His ears were positioned high on his head, showing his interest. Baxter remained still, and managed to stutter out.

“Wh-Why Yes…. It… Can….” The fish was visibly nervous, but Alastor was too occupied by his light to notice.

“Well…. What does pink mean? I’m rather curious now…” He questioned. The fish began to sweat a little, he happened to know the meaning of the mood ring attached to his lure. The light went brighter pink, and so did his cheeks. Alastor went giddy at this, and let out a little deer squeak of excitement. Baxter was surprised to hear this out of the “Formidable Radio Demon” even if he was part deer. His surprise just made the lights on his face and lure brighter and more vibrant. They were not helping his cause...

“There it went again! It got even more rosy!” The tall demon gently poked and prodded the significantly smaller demon’s bright pink esca for a small while, the tiny fish powerless to stop him.

“Hm, I wonder….” Alastor muttered quietly. Baxter’s eyes widened, before he could even utter the word “No.” The Radio Demon started to rub and caress his little light, masking it’s glow in his large gloves hands, his smile wide. Baxter felt himself relax, without him wanting to. His body went from tense, to relaxed just like that, his expression changed to a softer one of enjoyment. Alastor noticed the tension in the fish disappeared, and smiled even wider, rubbing gently, seeing into the light which showed very well the scientist’s mixed emotions, in pinks, reds and purples.

Alastor’s eyes lit up, he found them so pretty, putting off a bright glow in the dark laboratory. Baxter couldn’t resist him, and the deer knew it. Baxter wasn’t in control of his own actions, he was unsure, but not opposed to the treatment he was getting. Alastor looked Baxter up and down, he seemed content with what he was doing, then he looked to his little webbed fish fins on the sides of his head. Baxter’s fins were perked all the way up, and they twitched, just a little. Since Alastor had been so curious about the fish, why not test just one last theory?

Alastor let up on the Angler’s light, giving him just a moment to recover, his light shifting to a hue between his normal yellow, and that pinky color from before. He breathed more heavily than usual. He was nervous. He met eyes with Alastor.

“A-Alastor… What was that all abou-“ The Radio Demon cut him off. Alastor reaches for Baxter’s fish ears. Starting slowly, scratching right behind it. Baxter yelped, startled by his sudden motion. The fish’s reaction was priceless to him, he was surprised at first, but it melted into satisfaction. The little demon loved it so. Those cheeks with the little glowing aqua diamonds on his face, his glasses were crooked, but his expression was pure joy. Alastor hadn’t ever seen the scientist like this. He was always so uptight, stressed, and focused. It was a treat to see him so relaxed.

Baxter liked this. He couldn’t place his finger on why. It was. Like he was getting attention he had never felt before, like he’d been noticed by someone who enjoyed his company. He finally gave into his feelings and responded to his urges. He rubbed his cheek on the hand stroking him, encouraging him to go on, too happy for words.

Alastor was rather surprised by this response. But he obeyed Baxter’s silent request. Smiling, his little plan had worked. He sat there rubbing the fish’s soft little face, and then, Baxter did something to make Alastors entire afterlife spin.

He curled up quietly, and began vibrating. Alastor could feel it, and he recoiled. Slightly startled as he had never done this before, the fish hadn’t ever vibrated. He had a disturbed look on his face, and his ears sunk. So many thoughts ran through his head all at one time,

Is he alright?! Is he broken!? Did I break him!? Oh Dear Satan what have I done!?

Baxter looked confused and slightly disappointed.

“W-What was that? Baxter what did you. What did you just do?” Alastor asked.

“What? Was I doing something?! Did I do something?” He asked frantically.

Alastor took a moment, and processed what had happened in his little “test.” Then it hit him. He understood what it was then. Baxter has no time to react or protest. Because Alastor went right back to gently caressing the spot, that large smile still widening. Baxter was ill-prepared yet again, but went back to his curled up state. Purring gently enjoying the special treatment.

Alastor got into a rhythm. He rubbed for what he felt was an eternity, an adorable lovely eternity. He had even scooted closer to Baxter, feeling his gentle vibrations on his side. The small fish lad even got enough confidence to snuggle up closer to the giant deer.

After a few minutes more the purring, over time just transferred to soft steady breathing, and as for The Radio Demon, he had been lulled to sleep, his monocle has slipped down on his face, and so had the scientist’s glasses. Alastor fell asleep, happy where he was, he didn’t know why but it felt right. So he slept, next to his dear Baxter making soft deer noises and little snores.

Follow~up: Angel knocked on the lab door, checking to see if the fish was awake. He wags going to set up speakers in Baxy’s room. And crank “My Heart Will Go On” as loud as he could. Just to piss him off. That’d be a hilarious wake-up-call. He walked in, and saw Baxter and Alastor cuddled up on the blue velvet couch. He nearly verbally said “Aweeee!” but he restrained himself. He snapped a picture with his phone, chuckled at it. And left. Closing the door and taking his brand new blackmail with him~

((WOOHOO! I’M FINISHED AND I ENJOYED IT!

Thank you to....

@zoophobiapika, @evilassumptions, and @zpheadcanons ! For giving me headcanons and ideas to base this off of! Couldn’t have done it without them!

And to

@upppwego, and the lovely @ellen-jello for keeping me motivated and being so openly excited about it!

I hope everyone liked this. And please leave a comment if I should do more! Farewell my fellow Demons, Sluts, Sinners and Hazbins. I’m out! <3))

[cyrelia-j]

[ficlet] #1 Frontier Medicine (Jack/Julian)

So going off this post I decided to go ahead and do this for the next drabble/ficlet series (30 days of Jack is technically done so a focus shift though I will add on there when I have more ideas in that universe).

Check the tag "the new jj frontier" for all of these and stay tuned!

Summary: Jack and Julian grew up together in the Institute, fell in love, and got married. As part of an experimental program Julian [a success story!] was allowed to join Starfleet and was assigned as CMO of Deep Space Nine as a test run along with his husband Jack (who's still struggling to find his place). This is their story.

Pairing: Jack/Julian though there will be G/B/J in some fashion later

Warnings: None yet 

Series Notes: In addition to retelling the series, I also wanted to explore Jack and Julian's relationship as it changes. I like seeing how old expectations and habits can grow stronger through change and conflict. Jack in this story does still have a lot more issues than Julian, and I wanted to explore Jack coming into his own more as an individual instead of just the "Julian's husband"/dependent role where he starts (this is also something I think that Kira is sensitive too so if you wonder about her behavior towards the end of this, I hope that explains it.) I hope everyone will join me on this ride, and I look forward to it!

“Just breathe, Jackie,” Julian whispers at Augment level, putting a hand on his shoulder, and Jack nearly drops the PADD as he stuffs it under his armpit and signs that he is breathing. Right next to him the woman, the trill, Jadzia Dax shoots him a reassuring smile. Jack likes her. Julian likes her- though Julian likes her in a very Julian way which is something else entirely. Jack is sure she doesn’t like either of them that same way [as Lauren would say] which he doesn’t understand because from everything he’s observed, his husband is quite Quantifiably a catch but… but Jack, they say is crazy (more of a joke now than it used to be) so what does he know?

He knows that he needs to speak when he can manage it for the translators, according to Dr. Loews, at least until the Federation Computer systems are fully functional to provide the necessary support. Jadzia understands him when he signs (which is a relief) but he knows that the sooner he becomes accustomed to conversing, the less anxious he’ll feel when doing it. He had a lot of practice the few days each week he and Julian were allowed to attend Starfleet Academy (with Julian an Experiment in the medical program and Jack his shadow in classes and tutor for those who needed extra help) so he’s… reasonably sure he can do this.

“Thank you!” he exclaims with a smile and a dip of his head and he can tell that Julian wants to ask her to coffee later but is far too worried about him so… Best Smile at her, hand over Julian’s, squeeze, step back and… ah… the Station is large, he realizes, bright, the hum starting to catch his attention but… he can push it to the back, pushing to the back, arms crossed equalling armor that blocks it out, biting his finger, small endorphin rush, right, better better. “Can Julian repay you with a coffee? For… for being nice, for being a wonderful host to both of us for the trip mmhm.”

Jack doesn’t know what’s so funny about that but Julian’s face Absolutely beams when she laughs and says yes and it’s probably pointless but… Julian has fun and Jack loves seeing that smile.

“Ready?” He asks with a bounce to his step as the Bajoran woman Kira explains that she’ll be showing them around the station. Jack has his PADD at the ready, set to take notes, dismayed but not surprised to see the Station's in disarray because this was part of the briefing and he Augment Whispers to Julian under his breath as he amends his existing notes, takes more, seeing Julian frown with his Serious face.

The Station is also cold even with the warm green sweater, Julian always warm not paying it any mind, as they survey the damaged Infirmary. Hmm lot of Work but they’ll be up for it and Officially Jack can’t help but Unofficially he and Julian have always been each others' Support so… they can work with this. Major Kira explains about the looters which makes Jack’s ears perk up even as Julian tells her that they’re both just exceptionally grateful for the chance that Starfleet has given them and they’ll be doing their best to work together and support everyone who needs their help.

“Only a numbness registered the shock of finding out how much had gone of life… Scorched Earth,” Jack murmurs as he notes the supplies that they’ll need, taking a moment to breathe as the crunch of glass underneath his boots unsettles him. He sees the Major watching him so he tries to offer a smile because that’s what he learned at the Academy but she… doesn’t react any more favorably so he drops that in favor of a rushed explanation of the old Earth military term until Julian coughs so he knows he's rambling, so he stops with a mumbled “sorry”.

“That’s the Cardassians for you,” Major Kira says bitterly after a moment. “They can’t stand the idea that they’re leaving us with anything. They hate that they never broke us.”

“Again, I hope you’ll offer our deepest thanks to your leaders,” Julian interrupts as Jack determines that he needs to get more Information because he doesn’t know enough about Cardassians. “We’re… honored to be here I… I don’t know how much was explained about us but in the Federation our opportunities are rather limited because of our enhancements and no one else wanted to take a chance with us so-”

“Doctor Bashir, I don’t care if the two of and your husband grow wings and fly. We Bajorans don’t have the same luxury that the Federation does to discriminate when people want to help.”

“Hmhm lots of work to be done but but it will get done, get running, does anyone need immediate attention?” Jack asks (very proud of himself for not pointing out the obvious hindrance that wings would pose in such a space, vestigial or otherwise) keeping track of the List the lists all in his head much more efficiently organized and flowing than the PADD but the PADD sets people at ease and the notes are good cues. Major Kira nods efficiently while she tells Julian that Nurse Jabara can help catch them up to speed and at the Academy he’s always been Julian’s shadow but- Words Jack, you can do this.

“Can you tell me more?” Jack asks suddenly rushing on. “Of course I read the files but files aren’t everything and they didn’t have much on the Cardassians, nothing really, they’re a blank in my file a lot of blanks, gaps hm.”

“I’m afraid I have a lot of work to do.”

“I can help I can listen I can-” He looks at Julian who’s motioning for him to drop it so he nods, crossing his arms. “Right right, no impositions. Thank you thank you mmhm.” Nod, smile, good good.

Jack isn’t quite sure why Major Kira gives Julian an odd look during that exchange, but she decides that she could use an extra set of hands with the cleanup after all. Julian reminds him gently only to listen which of course he knows but he supposes it doesn’t hurt to have the reminder because he might overtalk otherwise or rant unnecessarily and again, Major Kira has another one of those expressions.

She tells him as they leave Julian to meet with the medical team that he can talk as much as he likes.

[beheadingofmakai]

“Exorcist” Is A Strong Word

<- Previous Chapter

5:31 AM was not a nice hour to be up and about for Vinn Ingram, but there simply was no other choice. Sure, the cold winds that blow through Mint Hill Street were a very convincing argument to buy a scarf the moment today was over, the uphill walk made paying a taxi very, very attractive even though it was a short walk, and the deadly combination of both made our new Exorcist miss his bed sheets with the agony of a lover who left his sweetheart behind to go to the war, but alas, this was a necessary evil if he ever was to see his workplace at all. At the Seventh Office of the Mythic Affairs Bureau, work hours begin at 7:00 AM, which is a whole one hour and twenty nine minutes our daring star could’ve spent tucked in bed dreaming about sunshine and puppies, but if the last two days were any indication, this was a bad idea, and that bad idea has a name: Bastian Ashfield, his partner.

“Mother fu... Arc damned cold wind... Uphill walk in the middle of... This better be worth it...” muttered the displeased Vinn to himself, making his walk under the purple early morning skies. Two days ago, Bastian raided his apartment and snatched him away to a sudden necromancy case, and yesterday, Bastian once more got him by the cuffs and got him working with a truant demon after an exorcism. These last two days, he’d been roped into all this work without being able to even see his office or meet his other colleagues. For a top scorer like Vinn, this was like a rusty, jagged spoon to the heart, as it was vastly unprofessional from him to not even greet his other seniors at the office just because this hydromancing asshole of a tyrant decided to start paying him house visits. Well, no more! Today, Vinn left far earlier than he was supposed to, as he wasn’t gonna risk a third day of impromptu plate-juggling. Maybe now, finally, he was gonna be able to do things right.

But Arc damn the wind is cold.

“I should almost be... Oh! That over there is the office, isn’t it?”. Vinn perked up and broke into a calm jog, and indeed it was. A four story building, solid and made of brick, with a large sign that read the “7th Office” in bold black letters. It didn’t indicate what it was the office of, just that it was the 7th. Magic and the supernatural is a well kept secret, after all, so whoever stumbled in there by accident would just be told a lie about this being a real estate firm or maybe an engineering firm. At long last, Vinn was going to be able to meet people that hopefully weren’t condescending jerks!

As Vinn approached the building, the door swung open, and what strode out froze Vinn in his tracks. A very tall woman, at least two heads taller than Vinn, with long dark green hair and a somewhat dark complexion, but the prodigious height and the curious colors of the dame weren’t what paralyzed Vinn, it was the long, curved, thick black horns that protruded from her head that did, peeking through holes in her large brimmed hat. 

“Hm? Hey there, I haven’t seen you around before” the mountain spoke. “For consultations and filing reports, head to the left desk, and for general questions, the help desk is on the right. We’ll help you in however way we can.”

“...Oh!” finally reacted Vinn, taking his eyes off the horns, hoping he didn’t offend. “Oh, thank you, but I work here, actually, it’s good to meet you, I started two days ago, my name is Vinn Ingram.” Upon hearing this, the woman brought a hand to her mouth in surprise, and immediately smiled gracefully, lifting her hat just slightly so she could take a better look at him with her piercing crimson eyes.

“Ah! You’re one of the graduates! How silly of me, my apologies, I assumed you were a new client. I haven’t seen you around, but, well, I suppose the same can be said for others, hmhm. Well met, Vinn Ingram.” -- the woman bowed with dignity and poise found only on professionals -- “I am Fatima Allanach, Exorcist here at the Seventh. Have been for years now. A pleasure to meet you. I would love to chat with you more, but I need to go out for something rather pressing right now. Which division are you on? I’d love to drop by later to properly meet you when time isn’t a pressing concern.”

“Oh, no no, don’t let me hold you back, the pleasure is all mine!” hastily replied the novice. “I’m in the 3rd Division.”

“The 3rd... That’s... I see, so you must be an intel support, then? Well, have fun with Nicholas, he’s kind of a stick in the mud before 9:30, but he’s very good at what he does. You’ll learn much. Well, farewell, until later.”

With a graceful half-bow and a smile, the large woman in the trench coat walked away, her horns disappearing from sight as soon as she headed to the streets. Can’t be seen with those by civilians, after all. Vinn couldn’t help but wonder what she meant by “intel support”. He was very much a fully fledged Exorcist, and his partner was Bastian, not some “Nicholas”. Well, whatever, he thought, maybe she was just confused and in a hurry. They’d meet later, so no biggie.

Finally at the 3rd floor, Vinn looked up which office was the 3rd Division’s in his briefing e-mail. It was more than a bit daunting when his worst suspicions were confirmed and that large, imposing cast iron door was, indeed, his office. With someone like Bastian on their payroll, however, the iron door made complete sense, unfortunately. “Well, whatever, let’s get to it.”

The already small room behind the iron door was made even smaller by the sheer amount of chaos within. Paperwork everywhere, pizza boxes, the scent of coffee and mana leftovers mixing into what can only be described as a terrorist attack on the senses, and one very bitter-looking blonde man sitting at the very end of the room, surrounded by cabinets, coffee mugs, and his computer, mashing away at that keyboard like it owed him money. 

“Uh, he--”

“And why the hell are you here this early again, Bastian! Can I just not have my own little world of-- Huh?”

“Um.”

“Oh.”

The red haired man and the blonde bitterness extract given a human form looked at each other awkwardly for a second, before the latter finally threw a brick and smashed the silence. “...Who, who the hell ar-- Who might you be? This is the 3rd Division, I think you got the wrong door, pal.”

“Uh, hey there, no, I work here. Effective as of two days ago, but it’s my first time showing up due to... Exceptional reasons, I guess. I’m Vinn Ingram, assigned here as of August 4th, a pleasure to meet you, Mister...?”

“No Vinn works here, dude, just go to your office.”

“Um, sir? I do work here, it says as much in this e-mail, I’ve been working for two days now on field.” 

“No you don’t.”

“Sir...”

“Dude, come on, I know everyone in this office and-- Hold that phone, what did you say your name was again?”

“V-Vinn Ingram, partner of--”

Whatever came after his last name fell upon deaf ears and was drowned by the loud tik and tak of the keyboard’s cry for help as the blonde man’s fingers struck it with surgical precision. A few seconds of awkward keyboard sounds later, the man’s face seemed to be right out of the cover of a cheap gas station horror novel. “Bastian’s partner? That Vinn?”

“That’d be me, yeah.”

“What the fuck, you haven’t quit yet?”

“E-excuse me?”

        Of incense, ink stains, and the murky menace lurking beneath it all:                                        – Chapter 3: Neon War Paint –

“Oh, um, ahem, h-hey, welcome, Vinn, welcome! I just, mm, never really expected anyone partnered with Bastian to last more than one assignment with him. Or less than one, really. I hope you’ll understand, he’s kind of, mm, not a very nice person.”

“Oh, trust me, I could gather that much. But yeah, I’m here, alive and willing still, somehow.”

Molotov cocktails burst green with envy at the explosive laughter the man by the computer just showcased with peerless cacklesmanship. “By the Arc, man, you really went and... I’m Nicholas Dunbar, Seventh Office 3rd Division information agent, assistant, and secretary, an actual honor to meet anyone who somehow survived Bastian.”

Vinn could only sigh, half laughing and half crying internally. “Vinn Ingram, once again, now assigned to this office as that oaf’s partner, the pleasure is mine. So, um, Nicholas, is Bastian just... Like that? In general?”

“He very much is like that in general.” replied the intel agent as he prepared some coffee on the worn, jury rigged coffee maker that had what was very clearly a band aid somewhere on its base. “See, the thing is, you’re the fourth partner that’s been assigned to him, and the only to survive the ordeal without quitting the job or requesting a transfer after... Well, not after, during the first day.”

“And I can see why. I’m here this early because he kept going to my place and roping me into more stuff, telling me he has to test me on this and test me on that, what a prick.” Vinn recounted as he tried to navigate this disaster room of pizza boxes and stray paperwork, making a futile attempt to find his desk.

“Yeah, you’re actually the only one I’ve met, haha. I kinda just assumed you’d be roadkill as well, no offense. You aren’t the top scorer of the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy for nothing, after all. Man, Bastian is real good at this job, one of the best, I dare say, but his people skills just haven’t been the same anymore...”

This last statement perked the novice Exorcist. “Mm? What do you mean with ‘anymore’?” The inquiry clearly changed something in the atmosphere, as Nicholas simply looked down and then at the coffee maker, gripping it by the handle and serving two piping hot mugfuls of coffee, offering one to Vinn.

“I can’t really tell you, man. I hope you understand. It’s kinda personal to him, and I’m not about the snitch life.”

“Ah, no no, sorry, didn’t mean to put you in the spot. Thanks for the coffee.”

“Say, since you’re here early, I might as well tour you through the Seventh, what do you say? Introduce you to the people, show you where stuff is, the works.” offered the intel agent, sipping his coffee, his voice certainly softer than before. This wasn’t an offer Vinn was going to turn down.

“I’d very much like that!”

                                                         ——-

The Seventh was a sturdy, spacious building. That cramped little hellroom that was the 3rd Division was not indicative of just how impressive and accommodating the rest of it was. Air conditioning, ample hallways, and effective use of space made it easy to navigate through and easy to fit all the relevant facilities. It certainly was a whole different beast from the antiquated brick fortress that it seemed to be from the outside. Nicholas and Vinn made small talk as they passed by the various other offices, most of them empty due to how early it was, heading to the Infirmary in the first floor.

“The Infirmary is open practically all the time, and it’s the first place you go to after an assignment, and the last place you go to before clocking out and leaving for the day.” Nicholas explained as he ringed the bell. “Cordiality is nice, but it doesn’t mean much in general in the Seventh, since we are all about getting the job done first and foremost. However, if there’s anyone you gotta be good with, that’s the Infirmary crew, because these people keep us alive. I think you’ll agree with me when I say you’d rather be on good terms with the people in charge of keeping you alive, yeah?”

“Hah, no argument there. I planned to come here first thing after finding the 3rd Division.” Vinn replied, adjusting his vest as Nicholas opened the door. “Hold on, don’t we have to wait for them to give us the ok?”

“I mean, by protocol, yeah, but as long as you ring the bell, Aria doesn’t really mind if you come in, Mister Stiff.” laughed the intel agent. “Can’t blame ya, though. You are the top scorer of this year’s promotion, so I assumed you’d be kinda stiff, but man, trust me, real work is a lot more... Earthly, if you will. Don’t take all those regulations and strict protocols to heart. As long as you do your job, no one minds.”

Vinn shrugged his shoulders as if saying “I guess”, which only prompted another chuckle from Nicholas. Inside the Infirmary, a woman with two large white wings and a long lab coat checked a clipboard and wrote on a little notebook propped on a desk. “Hey, mornin’, doc!” greeted Nicholas, prompting her to turn around with a pleasant smile and kind eyes.

“Hey, Nick, good day! Hm? Who’s the kid?” the doctor enthusiastically replied as she set down her clipboard. “Oh, one of the fresh meat, huh? Hey, I’m the patch up artist around these parts, name’s Aria, a pleasure.”

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Aria, I’m Vinn Ingram, ‘fresh meat’ at the 3rd Division. We’ll be seeing each other.”

“Oh, so you are a new intel agent? You’re lucky, Nick is awesome at his job, just, be sure not to catch him before 9:30, he’s kinda--”

“Oh no no, he’s not mine, Aria.” interrupted Nicholas, a wry grin plastered on his face. “Take a wild freakin’ guess who he is partnered with.”

Aria tilted her head in confusion, looked at him real good, the ol’ tip to toe scan with the eyes, and she realized, given his build, that he was no pen pusher. Those strong limbs were for working out in the field. “Wait, Bastian’s!? No way, but it’s the 6th! Any partner of his should have transferred already! Holy moly, you are some next level shit, aren’t you?”

Nicholas laughed out loud while Vinn simply sighed and pinched his nose. “Yeah, I guess I am fecal matter of the next degree. Man, he really is infamous for this, isn’t he?” The two of them laughed, but before Aria replied, she caught the Nicholas’ eyes, insolence brewing behind them.

“Oh... You wanna do that, huh...? Ok... Hey, Vinn, I applaud your manners for not pointing out my wings.” said Aria. “People usually get impressed by them and sometimes, it get uncomfortable, so hey, nice. But, at the same time, I can’t help but be a bit disappointed, since I am proud of them, as an Angel and all.”

Those last words perked Vinn up. “An Angel, you say...?”

“Yup! Ain’t the Seventh impressive? We practically have a demon in Bastian, so we make up for that with an actual Angel in our Infirmary. Not something many offices can claim, yeah?”

It’s true that those impressive, white feathered wings were the definition of majestic in any dictionary you could find, but Vinn didn’t seem impressed at all. “She’s not an Angel, though.” he declared.

“Oh?” Aria smirked. “I am, though. What proof do you have that I am not an Angel? Are you saying these wings are fake?”

“It’s true that you have not moved your wings at all, so they could be a prop, but no, they are the real deal. However, ‘wings’ does not equate to ‘Angel’. No offense intended, but the palms of your hands are very rugged, and your musculature in general suggests heavy physical work, instead of the more magically inclined personality of Angels. Speaking of your hands, you did a pretty good job trimming them, but I can tell those talons grow up to be very strong, sharp, and destructive. You’re not an Angel, Miss Aria, you’re a Harpy.”

The rapid fire analysis left both Nicholas and Aria dumbfounded for all of five silent seconds before they both broke into laughter. “Oh, wow! This kid is the real shit, ain’t he? Damn, when was the last time, anyone saw through this little prank, Nicholas?”

“Wasn’t it Fatima many years ago? Haha, damn, anyways, that was impressive, I’d expect no less from top scorer of this year’s promotion. Nice job, Vinn.”

The young man was getting a bit flustered with all this praise and attention, but thankfully, before he had to say anything, the bell rang again, and the door swung open, a tall, muscular, blonde man wearing sunglasses walking in shortly after.

“Heyo, doc, I’m sorry I didn’t come before, I came t’ greet ya! Name’s... Oh, Ingram?”

“...Hold on, you’re Daryl. Hello.”

“Oh, you two know each other?” Nicholas inquired, resting against a nearby counter top.

“Yeah!” the large blonde lad replied. “We both graduated this year. Ingram’s the top of the class, so I remember him. Didn’t know ya were here, dude.”

“Likewise. I wouldn’t have expected to meet you so soon after graduation. Good to see you. Which division are you on?” Vinn cordially conversed. 

“2nd, the boss woman told me to go greet people already, got kinda mad that I hadn’t yet, so here I am. Heyo doc, and heyo other dude I don’t know, here’s to some good ass work and all that.”

“Nicholas, good to meet you, though I am just the tech dude at the 3rd, it’s this lady you oughta pay your respects to. She’s a nice Angel doctor that’ll keep you in this world, no matter how banged up you get.” the intel agent explained, a chuckle already charging up behind his lips.

“Wait, an Angel!?” yelled the shocked Daryl.

“Oh, don’t say that so loud, I get kinda conscious... But yes, I am Doctor Aria, pleased to meet you. I hope you’ll trust my--!”

In a move that shut everyone in the room, Daryl approached Aria and outright kissed her, holding her chin up to better feel her tongue with his. When it was all said and done, Daryl simply took a contemplative hand to his chin. “Ya ain’t no Angel. You’re a Harpy. See, Angels have soft tongues, and kissing them feels like warm honey bathin’ yer tongue, an indescribable feelin’, really. But yer tongue was thick, rough, and strong. It wasn’t warm honey, it was more like a powerful adversary, a tongue to remember, ‘cause it ain’t easy. I like Harpy kisses far more than Angel kisses, there’s that roughness to them that makes them--”

The sound of her palm meeting his face echoed in the Infirmary.

“How dare you...!?” the doctor exclaimed, slapping him across the face.

“Ooph, yeah, see, Angels don’t slap like that, that’s a Harpy’s strong hand, alriOOPH.”

“What the fuck are you doing, dumbaaaaaaass?!”

The sound of his spine singing a melody of pain and regret echoed in the infirmary as his body was lifted off the ground by a single righteous uppercut.

“Yep, just on time, if you’re in the 2nd, then your partner is...”

“W-woah what the hell!?”

With just a single punch, the large blonde man was downed. Behind him, a brawny, tough-looking woman stood with the River Styx in her eyes, shooting ballistic missiles at the battered young man with her glare.

“I take my eyes off you for one second and you’re already doing dumb shit again! I am so sorry, Aria, this one’s on me, I’ll buy you all your drinks next time we go out drinking, ok? Please forgive this good for nothing piece of shit!” the big woman apologized as she stomped on the downed idiot.

“F-Fiona, don’t worry about it! It’s fine, it’s fine, don’t kill him in the Infirmary, please, that’s a lot of paperwork to deal with!”

Lifting him over her shoulder like a sack of potatoes, the imposing woman desperately apologized. “I’ll educate this dipshit, even if it kills me, or if it kills him! I’ll go now, see y...ou? Hey, who’s this kid, Nick? New techie for the the 3rd?”

“Naw, he’s Bastian’s.”

“Cut the bullshit.”

“I am not dumb enough to lie to you, Fi.”

Fiona’s eyes widened. “You’re legit his partner? Woah, some big fat balls of brass, you must have! Well, kid, introductions will have to wait ‘till later, I have a shithead to lecture. Try not to get killed. Let’s go, you imbecile.”

“M-my spine... Let me get it checked first...” begged Daryl like a beefy, floppy sack of wounded potatoes with all the dignity of a headless chicken.

“Oh, sleep it off, ya wuss, let’s go.”

As fast as she came, this tornado of a woman left, leaving Vinn speechless. “Is she... Is she always like that? Who was that? Did that really just happen?”

“That’s Fiona, and yeah, that’s her modus operandi. Leaving the door open is also part of her, but she’s a lovable tower of muscle and alcohol.” explained the doctor, going back to her clipboard. “Be a dear and close it, will you?”

As Vinn approached the door left open by the human cyclone, he spotted her outside, still carrying Daryl, being lecture by a tall, thin man who had an aura of authority and resignation to him. Before him, however, Fiona couldn’t stop bowing apologetically.

“Well, that’s our Fiona, 2nd Division Exorcist. Watch in awe as she is lectured by the Chief because her cropped tank top, ‘perfume’ that smells like 6 AM tequila, and habit of carrying coworkers like veggies at market spit in the soup of Officewear Regulations. Heh, this is a daily show by now.” Nicholas elaborated, as if watching a movie while eating pop corn. “You know about Oni, Vinn?”

“Oh! She’s an oni? That explains the strength and the pungent stench of alcohol.”

“Nope, she’s married to one, and he’s helping her with her drinking habits.”

“...Classy. So, that’s the Chief, huh? I’d better go say hi to him now.”

“Woah there, buddy, I’d suggest not. He’s lecturing her right now, but he’s a very busy man, especially in the mornings. Leave him for the afternoon.”

“Is he a hardass or something?”

“Not... Quite, just trust me on this one. Let’s go back to our office, Dani should be here by now.”

“If you say so. Bye, Miss Aria, have a good day.”

“Mmhm. Have a good one, you two, I hope you survive, Vinn.” the doctor expressed with no ill will whatsoever, waving a friendly hand goodbye.

                                                        ——-

The more one looked at the office, the more it seemed that the door frame was a portal to a different dimension. How could this pigsty possibly be in the same physical plane, let alone building, than the neat everything else? There was a difference now, however: A lone girl sat by another desk.

“It’s weird not seeing you here first thing in the morning, Nick. I was wondering where you went.” she greeted.

“Yeah, was just showing the newbie around. Lookin’ good, Dani.” Nicholas chimed back with Vinn on tow, who politely nodded as if to greet her.

“Oh? New tech g--”

“Bastian’s partner...” Vinn clarified for what felt like the tenth time this morning.

“What!? Bast--”

“Please.” Vinn begged for what felt like the tenth time this morning. It was getting tedious.

“Oh, pfff, yeah, I guess you’ve already gotten your fair share of dumbfounded responses. Sorry about that! I’m Danielle, just call me Dani, though.” the girl responded before moving away from her desk without standing up, traversing through the pizza boxes and paperwork in a motorized wheelchair, controlled by a little controller on the right hand rest. Of note, her left hand and leg were prosthetic. Accompanied with the soft sound of her wheelchair’s motor’s vibration, Dani approached Vinn and offered her right hand, which he shook. “I’m the communications expert here, and since you’ll be working with us now, you’ll need one of these.” Her prosthetic hand held a firm grip on the bag while her regular hand rummaged in it, the sounds of junk and crumpling plastic raising many questions as to what was actually inside the otherwise trendy looking little bag. With an expression of eureka, she seemed to have finally found the desired item, which he proudly offered to the novice Exorcist: A tin can.

“A... Tin can? Wait, now that you mention it, Bastian had one just like this two days ago...” Vinn pondered, as he examined the item in vain.

“Ah! You were there when the Siren was sent in!? That jerk didn’t mention you at all in his reports! I will have some words with him, the nerve!” Dani fumed as she kicked her feet in frustration, nothing new when regarding Bastian and his old tricks. “Anyways, yes, that right there is a prim and proper tin can, but it may save your life.”

“There’s really nothing special about it, though... I don’t sense anything.”

“Eyup, it’s not until I do this--” With a touch of he right hand’s finger, the can suddenly pulsated, Vinn’s head throbbing as a sharp note drowned everything else in the room, only the can’s ‘heartbeat’ audible to him, until a few seconds later, his senses returned to normal, his head ringing like a struck bell no more. “--llo? Hello? Earth to Vinn?”

“Ugh... Yeah, I hear you... What was that? My head felt like it was going to explode for a second.” Vinn replied, clutching his thankfully unexploded head.

“Yeah, happens the first time. I’ve linked the tin can with you. Now, what this does is...” Danielle moved towards her desk again and held a similar, worn out tin can. “Put that against your ear.” Vinn complied, and once he did, Dani put her own tin can against her mouth, softly whispering words that shouldn’t have been audible to anyone, yet were clear as the skies to Vinn. “And now, we can communicate easily!”

“Woah! That’s... I’ve never seen anything like this! So basically, these are like cellphones now?”

“Better than cellphones!” she declared, chest puffed out. “Cellphones can be traced, need time to make a call, need the other party to notice and accept the call, and if you’re underground? Yeah, not happening. Tin cans are the future of communication! Well, among us, anyways. This is Communications Magic, my area of expertise. Keep that tin can on you at all times, and we’ll be able to talk shit about Bastian at all times, seamlessly and with no interruption.”

“Now that sounds like a good time.”

“Well, I’m sure glad you two seem to have kicked it off well!” Nicholas finally interjected. “Now, you did say something worrying, though: You’ve actually been working the last two days, but Bastian neglected to mention you in his reports, which makes my job difficult. Plus, I don’t have your reports, either.”

“A-ah, well, I wasn’t exactly--”

“Exactly allowed near the office, I know, haha, don’t worry, I’m not going to put you on the spot, all this means is that I will grab Bastian by the neck and have him rewrite his reports. His lack of mentioning you meant to me that you had quit, which is... A pattern, really, so don’t worry, you get a few more days to write your reports, but the sooner you have them for me, the better.”

“Ah, that’s why you reacted that way...” Vinn said, recalling Nicholas’ exasperation earlier. “Well, I hope you don’t have a hard time getting him to re-do those... I already know that he’s--”

“A damn hardass, a jerk, and a piece of shit to work with?” a voice behind Vinn chimed in.

“Yeah! That’s exactly what I was gonna sWhere did you come from and how long have you been there?”

“Aww, I’m glad to know that I have a cute widdle pwartner who wuvs me so much!”

As Vinn turned around, he met face to face with the plastic, hostile grin of Bastian Ashfield, a tall, solidly built man with his wavy ponytail resting on his left shoulder as always. “So can I join your shit-talking power hour? I am like a trebuchet full of excrement, ready to sling the highest quality turds, so? We good? Can I join you fine gents in--Hrg!”

That dull sound just now was a piece of scrap metal hitting Bastian square in the forehead. “You big jerk! You were keeping Vinn out of the office for the last two days and you neglected to even mention him in your reports! As both a person and an Exorcist, you are terrible!”

“Oi, who the hell throws junk metal at people!? At least make it something like a plastic bottle, or a--Argh!”

And that dull sound just now was a broken clock hitting Bastian on the side of his face.

“Don’t talk back!”

“Yes ma’am! Please don’t give me a concussion, ma’am!”

“Denied!”

“Alright, hold it, hold it, please! I’ll stop! Quit chucking assorted reclaimed metals at me!”

“...Are these two like this all the time?” Vinn whispered to Nicholas.

“Just when Bastian’s a dick.” 

“...”

“...”

“...”

“So yeah, all the time.”

“I see.”

                                                       ——-

“...Well, now that we are all here, I suppose a formal welcoming is due... But first... You clever little rascal. You left home really early, just to avoid me, huh?”

Vinn simply glared at Bastian. “I knew you’d try it a third day. Get off my back, already. I humored your two ‘tests’, and not even knowing what my workplace looks like for three days in a row is not exactly professional.”

“...Tests? Vinn, what did this oaf make you do?” Dani inquired, already reaching for the next piece of junk in her little bag.

“Don’t worry, it wasn’t anything terribly cruel. You’ll see in my report later, but basically, the necromancer of two days ago and a case with a stray demon yesterday. Both ended up well, so-- Hey, speaking of, where’s the necromancer?” Vinn asked, having just remembered the rather high profile criminal they brought in.

“Well, I’m not at liberty to say just yet, but let’s just say you’ll know soon enough.”

“Bastian, could you please treat him like a member of our division already?” sighed the girl.

“Oh, no no, Bastian is not being Bastian for once, he really isn’t at liberty to say.” Nicholas interrupted. “All information on the case -- the necromancer herself, the undead horde, and the fact that a Siren was dispatched -- is all confidential. In fact, we should not discuss it at all. He could actually get questioned by the Blackvests if his lips are too loose.”

“Ah, so it is actually confidential... I was curious myself, too, to be honest. It’s the first actual necromancer in forever, isn’t it?” Dani asked as she drank some of her freshly brewed coffee.

“First I’ve seen in active service, and in general.” replied the seasoned Exorcist. “Sure, you get punks who reanimate rats and dogs here and there, and then we have to go in and put the feral critters out of their mindless misery. But one that has actually reanimated humans? And didn’t even bother thralling them? Just letting the do as they please? That’s very weird, no matter how you spin it. Anyways, I am not lying when I say you’ll know soon enough.” Bastian readjusted himself and reached into one of the many seemingly empty pizza boxes, producing a cold slice and chomping on it. “Let’s go back to the man of the hour, now. Vinn, you’ll have to forgive me, but it was absolutely necessary that I test you in the ways I did. You aren’t an idiot, you could see that Exorcists don’t have the best reputation around, and deservedly so.”

The atmosphere in the room changed. 

“...Yeah. People feared me. People expected me to throw my weight around. People doubted me whenever I showed any cordiality or kindness. Exorcists really are not liked, huh? This is all very different from the Academy.” Vinn recounted, a disappointed sigh escaping him.

“That’s true, because a lot of Exorcists reign through fear, throw their weight around, and only smile when they want something out of you, or worse, when they already have what they need to blackmail you. The Academy is a bubble, Vinn.” Dani explained, her tone serious. “The Academy will make you believe your duty is just and your methods righteous, but in the real world, you can’t just go in blasting everything and coercing the weak into obeying or paying the price”

“Our duty as Exorcists, and related support parties, is to mete out justice in the Mythic affairs, whether that justice needs to clash against a Mythic or against a Human. We are supposed to be the entity that upholds justice, but a lot of Exorcists, well, they just smoke Mythics. We are supposed to stand up for Humans as much as we are for Mythics, but that’s not how it goes in practice.” Nicholas sadly continued.

“And that’s why I needed to test you.” said Bastian as he propped his legs on his desk. “I told you before, but you need to be able to hold your own in a fight, have the brains to figure out solutions to your problems, and have the heart to actually stand up for Mythics. I -- we -- have no use for yet another kid who slings death around to try and be the big strong Exorcist.”

Despite the shoddy appearance of the office, with the ocean of pizza boxes scattered everywhere and sundry junk adorning every corner, the files were where they needed to be, Nicholas’ computer was impeccable, and whatever actually mattered, was there. Messy as it was, it was the office of those who truly cared about their job, and about those said job entailed. Downing some coffee, Vinn took a deep breath.

“...Crude as they may be, I understand the reason behind your methods. I can’t say I’m mad, since it gave me a reality check I’d rather have now instead of later. It’s only... Fair, really.”

“Well,” Bastian replied, “Whether you are mad or not doesn’t really matter to me, what does matter is that you pass the tests. I was gonna tell you as much earlier today, but you eluded me like a slippery eel, which, I hate to admit, is also a good thing, so yeah, welcome to the 7th Office 3rd Division. I’ll work you to the sinews.”

“That’s just his way of being nice. Please do be patient with him, he’s an idiot, after aaAAAH! Damn! Ow ow ow!” Nicholas snarked before his hot coffee came to life and splashed his face, burning him.

“Maybe don’t insult an Hydromancer while holding a nice, fat cup of hot coffee, dumbass.” laughed Bastian.

“Pfff, well, you kinda walked right into that one, Nick, hehe. Still! It’s good to have some new blood in here, so by all means, welcome! I hope you have a good time! Don’t mind the office’s sorry state, we get our job done.” Dani cheerfully informed.

“Yeah, especially since all the pizza boxes are her doing in the first place, our cute little piglet.” taunted Nick, wiping the coffee off his face.

“He didn’t need to know that!”

“...You already put the order for today’s batch, didn’t you?”

“...I cannot confirm or deny that, Bastian.”

“Haha!”

It was a lively little office with just three people in it, four now, but Vinn could tell there was something different here, something he didn’t find in his time in the Academy, nor out in the field during these last two days.

There was a lot of heart and joy here.

There was anxiety, there were nerves, there was a lot of expectation, from both his partner and himself, but ll of those things, he already knew he was gonna feel. What he didn’t know, however, was how much he was going to crave to be part of this little world, where contact was easy and everyone seemed to get along like this.

And just like there’s a shadow by every light cast, so was there a woe that made his heart throb with a pang of concern: Were his people back home ever going to be able to partake in this?

If anything, this only steeled his resolve further. He left the comfortable wilderness for a reason against the protests of everyone that cared for him for this, after all.

“There’s no way I’m going back empty handed now.” he though to himself, after seeing that the human world is capable of compassion.

                                                      ——-

Just as the playful banter was beginning to calm down, someone knocked on the big iron door.

“It’s open, come in!” Nick yelled from the back of the office, already submerged in his files and keyboard once again.

“Please excuse me.”

As the door opened, Vinn perked up as he saw that pair of familiar horns, black like lacquered wood, curved with dignity, protruding through the holes of the wide brimmed hat. It was the tall woman from the morning. The dame simply giggled at his surprise, an elegant hand covering her lips.

“Now, why the surprise? I did say I’d come welcome you properly, no? Have you eased into your job with Nicholas yet? He’s a harsh instructor, but you’ve much to learn from someone with his diligence and experience.” she greeted bemusedly.

“Oh, no no, I’m not here as an info agent, I’m an Exorcist, partner with--”

“Well, well, well, if it ain’t Fat Fatima!” the brick that broke cordiality boisterously interrupted. “What do you and your five chins want? Don’t remember having any reason to expect a visit from you.”

“Bastian? What the h--!” tried to reproach Vinn, but he couldn’t finish his sentence. Just seconds ago, a gallant lady stood by the door, with a welcoming voice, a friendly disposition, and a kind smile. The very picture of manners and helpfulness. Where, oh, did she go? And when was she replaced by a twin with death in her eyes and wicked claws protruded, ready to slash a jugular or six? 

“Feh, Bastian... I didn’t come to talk to the wondrous sack of shit that pretends he’s people. Mind going back to your stupid magazines? Me and Nick’s new kid want to do some formal introductions, not that you’d know what those are.” snarled the dame, showing what were very clearly fangs.

“Nick’s got no new kid, shithead. If you mean that kid over there, he’s my new partner.”

“Oh, spare me, I’d think you’d at least give my intelligence some credit. Think of some more convincing lies if you wish to mess with me, Bastian.”

“Uh, hey, Fatima... Yeah, he’s not mine. Vinn’s an Exorcist, and Bastian’s partner.”

“What!? So he’s actually got a new partner!?” This reaction seemed to be popular. “Wait, so does that mean... Oh, uh...” The horned woman seemed to be troubled and wracked with guilt out of the sudden. “...Vinn, was it? I profusely apologize for the trouble I’ve no doubt caused you.”

Vinn didn’t really understand where this came from, and tilted his head just slightly in confusion, trying to think what this person he did not know before this morning could possibly mean by that. “I really have no idea what you’re apologizing for, Miss Fatima, you’ve done nothing but show courtesy to me.”

“Oi oi, so I’m just Bastian and ‘a damn hardass, a jerk, and a piece of shit to work with’, but she’s Miss Fatima? I’m glad to see where your loyalties lie, Vinn.” whined Bastian, a mocking hand to his own chest, as if deeply offended, nay, hurt.

“You said those things, I just confirmed them, geez.”

“Ah, allow me to elaborate...” interjected the horned lady. “First of all, I am the 1st Division Exorcist, Fatima Allanach, a pleasure to meet you, Vinn...?”

“Ingram. Vinn Ingram.”

She smiled graciously. “...As to what I did, well, I am the reason the Siren showed up two days ago.”

“Oh, you bitch! I should’ve figured you, of all people, would just call for them to mobilize all those delicious tax patros to give me a hard time! You could’ve killed me in the crossfire!”

“Oh, put a sock on it, Bastian.” -- all the grace she showed to Vinn was replaced by a vulgar hostility when addressing the hydromancer -- “Both of us know you wouldn’t die from a little Siren... Although I can’t say the same for your new partner. Had I know you had someone else there, I would’ve relented, and for that, I’m sorry. I just never... Thought you’d take another partner after Roderick, you know?”

The rooms atmosphere changed as Fatima’s voice softened with those last words. Even though this was the time for one of those patented Bastian Rude Retorts, he simply produced a cigarette, fiddled with it a bit, and then put it back in the pack. “Neither did I. But, well, here we are. And you, Fatima... It’s fine if you want to give me hell, but putting everything aside for a moment, even if its called for, never use the Sirens. Don’t confuse power for a basis of trust. Those things... Are executioners wearing their own coffins. Don’t forget it.”

“...That’s rich coming from you, Bastian.” Her sharp tongue was unsheathed once anew, albeit with a different, far more bitter fervor. “You don’t get to tell me whether I use a tool or not. Sirens are strong, and they can take care of practically any Mythic situation, small or large scale. It’s foolishness not to use an advantage when we have it.”

“Those things are not an advantage, Fatima. They are indiscriminate, they know only to kill and maim, how can you not see this!? We are Exorcists, it is our duty to--”

“--To utterly obliterate those bastards until they understand their place! How many more Humans must die to their savagery before you get this!? How many more Rodericks do we need in the graveyard before you stop spouting such naive drivel, Bastian?! Had a Siren been there with you that day, Roderick would still--”

“Shows how much you know! We’d both be death, and our assailants as well, leaving us with two less Exorcists and no leads whatsoever! Incredible! Great job! I can see why you are the 1st Division Exorcist clearly, with such a clear head absolutely not full of garbage on top of those shoulders!”

“You have no way of knowing that! When will you see the world for what it is already, you utter--”

“Everybody shut up!”

Nicholas’ voice boomed, drowning any whining in the small office, finally putting a stop to the bedlam.

“Don’t yank the chain, Nick, I need to make her understand--”

“Whatever, do that on your free time! You two schedule a nice, steamy, hot date outside of work hours, meet at a restaurant, order a fine beef steak dinner, and then beat the shit out of each other with it, I don’t care, but don’t go doing this in the office!”

Bastian and Fatima simply looked to the floor, or the ceiling, or anywhere that wasn’t Nicholas’ general direction, like scolded children caught trying to look inside the pot before dinner.

“Geez...” sighed the info agent, settling on his chair again. “Every time, you two...”

As if on cue, the office’s phone rang, Danielle dutifully picking it up.

“...Miss Fatima, did you mean that?” Vinn asked, a certain edge midst his cordiality.

“Hm? Did I mean what, exactly?”

“‘To utterly obliterate those bastards’, do you see Mythics that way?”

“...Oh, please don’t tell me you do share this brute’s view on the matter, Vinn? We are not called ‘Mediators’ or ‘Caretakers’, we are Exorcists. We exorcise, we hunt, we exterminate, that’s quite literally the job description. Things are this way for a reason.”

“And what would that reason be, Miss Fatima?” inquired Vinn without missing a beat, standing up. “What about being a human makes me inherently superior, more ‘people’ than a Mythic? We are not dealing with wild beasts, we are dealing with intelligent, sentient creatures who know love, hate, joy, and sorrow just as we do, who have a culture, traditions, and needs. You yourself are a Mythic, I fail to see the logic in--”

“Oh, the young man will watch his words.” Fatima replied with the same hostility she employs with Bastian, finally dropping her softer tone. “What I am doesn’t mean I should see things one way. It’s because I am a beast that I know exactly how terrible we can be.”

“That’s like saying we should destroy all slides in children's’ parks because one time, a kid scrapped his knee.”

“And only a fool would compare Mythics and slides horizontally.”

Vinn’s face was a mask of utter hatred and disdain for the horned Exorcist. “Miss Fatima, I think it’s about time you le--”

“What!? Y-yes, I’ll tell them immediately!” the communications expert yelled as she slammed the phone back on its base. “G-guys! You too, Miss Fatima! We’ve got a big situation down by Manduco #83493!”

“Dani, calm down. What’s the situation?” Bastian calmly asked, sitting back down and quickly picking up his flasks and other utensils. 

“The mass kidnapping from two months ago is happening again! It’s most likely the same perpetrator. It’s going on right now, a laborer that works at that warehouse forgot something, so even though it’s supposed to be closed off today, he went and found a lot of people just... Moving around, as if thralled. The first three divisions are to go there immediately.”

“Thanks, sweetie, that’s all we need. Well, let’s get going, we can’t lose a second.”

“I’ll go get my partner, let’s not waste any time.” Fatima said before disappearing into the hallway.

                                                     ——-

The dark blue car blazed a trail through the asphalt, going as fast as the worn out engine could manage, a bright red van and a dark green motorcycle tailing them. Inside the car, the grim-looking Vinn double checked his handcuffs and other pieces of equipment, a silence and grimace that didn’t escape the driver’s notice.

“Vinn, you good?”

“Yeah.”

“That’s the fakest ‘yeah’ I’ve had the honor of hearing. Look alive, this is a real bad situation. We need all six of us with our heads in the game.”

“Yeah.”

“...”

“...”

Bastian could only sigh.

“Oi, Vinn, don’t let what Fatima said get to you. It’s a kick in the dick, but that’s how many Exorcists are. She’s particularly partisan about it, yeah, but it’s better if you get used to it, hopefully manage it better than I do.”

Vinn only responded with a half-hearted chuckle and a few seconds of silence before reviving the dialogue. “I could understand it if it were anyone else, really, but Miss Fatima specifically is... Inconceivably weird. She was very cordial and kind before then, and is a Mythic, to boot, yet, she wants to kill her own kind so viciously? It goes beyond duty-bound hatred, that was just genuine hatred, how could you feel that way towards your own people?”

The usual brashness of the seasoned Exorcist was nowhere to be found, the sounds of the worn out motor filling in for dialogue for a few streetlights before Bastian found the strength to continue talking. “It’s... Complicated. Don’t hate her, please, she’s got her own problems.” Vinn almost fell out of the car upon hearing this. This had to be the first time he heard Bastian talk about someone so softly. He suspected they had a past from the previous conversation, but this only really confirmed it, especially if it was about someone he was just having a flat out shouting contest with moments ago. The dense mood was already suffocating enough, and they had a job to do right now, anyways, it was a good time to change topics.

“...So, these mass kidnappings... Damn, what a creepy name. Two months ago was the first one, right? How come they are deploying Mythic Law Enforcement for it now?”

“Well, last time, authorities had no idea magic was involved, but after investigating the area believed to have been where it took place, based on witness accounts of seeing the victims heading that way, heavy amounts of mana residue were found, suggesting that it was no mere mass kidnapping... Not that mass kidnappings are commonplace, anyway. So, it’s now a MAB affair.”

“Ah! Take this left, it should be there... Yeah, lots of cop cars. They must be barring civilian entry to the area. That’s a relief, at least.”

Bastian took a deep breath and gripped the steering wheel harder. “Well, ideally, I wanted to ease you into the job with easier cases, help you get to know Stroln as a city, with its Mythic underground world and all, but destiny calls, I suppose. This isn’t me underestimating you, but try to stick with me at all times. I have a stinkin’ feelin’ that this might get nasty.”

“...Got it.”

                                                     ——-

In front of the six Exorcists, the massive warehouse stood with its service door open, the lock smashed to junk by its foot. The structure was clearly from Pre-Amnesiac times, but well maintained and still in regular usage.

“...I don’t like this. It stinks.” said Fiona, 2nd Division Exorcist, assessing the situation. “This is no abandoned joint, the lock was smashed too neatly, and you’d have to be a fool to have such a flagrant vulnerability to your million patros business screamin’ to be exploited like this. What do you guys think?”

“Fully agreed.” Bastian commented. “We oughta have words with the owner or parent company of this place after we’re done here. As Fiona said, this is simply too suspicious. The lock really just looks like its there so they can file a police report on unlawful entry and claim innocence. It’s unlikely for any magic criminal to be so nuanced as to break a little lock, they’d usually go for a bigger door, especially if it’s a mass kidnapping.”

“Correct. They probably didn’t even use this service door.” Fatima added. “They probably opened the big cargo gate over there to get all the people inside, nice and neatly, and then simply smashed this lock to make it seem like they aren’t working with the owners of this place. This whole thing stinks.”

Behind the seasoned trio, the novice partners observed in awe how quickly their would-be mentors were piecing together the puzzle in front of them before even stepping in the building. The duties of an Exorcist include the subjugation of magic-wielding and supernatural criminals, negotiation with such individuals, and all around keeping this secret magical world hidden, but an important part of being an Exorcist is to play the role of detective as well. An Exorcist is, after all, the do-all end-all authority in the world of Mythic Law Enforcement, having powers and duties far beyond their mundane equivalents.

“They look and act like washed up garbage after a cruiser accident on the coast, but seein’ them like this really reminds you they are veteran Exorcists, don’t it?” Daryl commented, breaking the silence between the novices. 

“The way your worded that was really weird, but I know exactly what you mean.” Vinn responded. However, standing beside Daryl and Vinn was a third person who had not opened her mouth, simply looking at the experienced Exorcists work their craft and plan out how to advance. Vinn and Daryl both recognized her, and it is precisely because of that that the latter knew they shouldn’t bother trying to include her in the conversation, and why the former, who had zero social awareness back in the Academy, made the mistake of taking the initiative.

“...So, Nadja, I didn’t know you were assigned to the 7th as well.”

“...”

“Miss Fatima’s your partner, huh? Must be good working with her.”

“Interested in her looks, I gather?”

Vinn lifted his arms as if surrendering. “What? No, I mean how professional she is and all that. Anyhow, I don’t think we’ve ever talked, I’m V--”

“Vinn Ingram. Top scorer of our year.”

“Yup, the one.”

“...”

“...”

“...Pppffff, that went swimmingly, ya smooth operator.” chuckled Daryl.

“Oh, can it, at least I don’t go kissing girls randomly to determine their species.”

“Yeah, you don’t, and that’s really sad.”

“Hrrg...”

“Alright, coffee break over, kiddos, here’s the plan.” Fiona called suddenly, the novices perking up and giving her their attention. The anxiety of their first real operation, not to mention a rare cooperative operation between different Divisions, was beginning to well up in their guts. “Alright, so, the people are most likely still inside. Bringing a large amount of people here unnoticed, while not easy, is doable, but shipping them all together from here to wherever their destination is is another story. They are most likely waiting for a large transport, a bus or a series of van, maybe a large truck, we don’t know, and they are holding fort inside for now. We don’t know how many men it takes to keep all these people in there, but expect heavy resistance. We’ll go together, but if we need to split for whatever reason, stick to your partner. Questions? I hope not, because we ha--”

“A question.”

“Shoot, Nadja.”

“What level of lethality are we allowed?”

“Ideally, just enough to disable them. We have questions, they have answers. That means you shouldn’t use those things attached to your ankles.”

Nadja’s build was lithe, graceful, like a panther, and that made the large, black devices on each ankle stand out all the more. What looked like the point of a silver stake protruded downwards from the end of the device.

“Understood.”

Bastian spoke up now. “Alright, if that’s it, let’s head in. Keep chit chat to a minimum, and if you must talk, do it as silently as possible.”

                                                    ——-

Nary a footstep could be heard from the six trained individuals, moving like the shadow of a ghost across the large industrial complex-slash-warehouse. Something was clearly wrong with this place, as the air was stagnant, there were no signs of struggling whatsoever, and every door and window inside, in stark contrast with the service door, was neatly unlocked and undamaged, giving fuel to the veterans’ speculation, much to their dismay. They didn’t have to navigate much until the first shadow of adversity loomed close, by the internal courtyard. It was one at first, and then two, and then three, and then seemingly an endless amount of them, silhouettes walking as if entranced by a wicked siren’s song.

“...! Halt! I see many of them, and they are... You gotta be kidding me... Bastian, look at what they are wearing.” Fatima whispered, pointing towards a little window to their side that led to the courtyard.

If concern had a shape, it was Bastian’s face. “...Large pig masks and red robes. This is bad. Really bad.” Bastian mused, a bead of sweat running down his brow.

“Hm? Hey, hey, uncle, what’s wrong? Didja get cold feet over some costumes? What’s wrOW OW OW!” inquired Daring Daryl with the delicacy of an hydraulic press, as Fiona used one hand to cover his mouth and the other to give him an excruciatingly painful shoulder death grip.

“You beefy sack of crap!” Fiona chastised in whispers. “Flappin’ yer gums when you don’t know shit will only get you a Fiona Massage from now on! The grotesque pig mask and red robes are synonymous with a top wanted criminal, the Hog Priest! This is bigger than we could’ve imagined. Stay on your toes, everyone.”

“The Hog Priest has evaded capture several times, and there’s reports of them being sighted in multiple places at once... I suppose this explains it, though. It’s a legion of them.” pointed out Nadja.

The courtyard had a strange, purplish fog blanketing it, and in it, the pig-masked people wandered aimlessly, sometimes bumping into each other, sometimes tripping and picking themselves up clumsily, and in general, simply drifting along. Some stood still, vacant, some jogged slightly before calming down and clutching their chest, and all in all, it was a miserable spectacle.

“...Something’s wrong.” Fiona warned while putting on a pair of fingerless gloves, akin to those used by MMA fighters.

“Hm? Whatcha mean? They are just bobbin’ and... Oh.”

Daryl’s trap was shut tight once he realized little by little, they had all been stopping, and now, they all stood still, looking directly into the little window where they had been observing the courtyard from. No, not directly into the window, it was directly into their very eyes.

A suffocating, paralyzing, complete silence lasted all of two seconds before the window was smashed, a small canister almost hitting Fatima in the head being the culprit, from which an ominous gas shot from little pressurized holes.

“...Tear gas! Get out!”

In a frenzy, they jumped out of the window, out the gas’ range and right into a courtyard full of pig-headed foes that held pipes, shovels, and all manners of improvised weaponry, looking straight at them.

Not five seconds passed before an alarm siren loudly gave our Exorcists a warm, deafening welcome, sending all of the robed villains into a frenzy.

“Curses! Here they come! Defend yourselves and try to find a way out of here!” Fatima yelled, assuming a defensive stance and blocking a shovel strike with her bare hand.

As soon as the horde began its restless assault, the sinister purple fog that permeated the courtyard intensified, obstructing sight and puzzling the senses with its oddly calming fragrance. It was every man and woman for themselves, Bastian utilizing water to block the weapons and to push his assailants to the ground with immense pressure, Fiona disarming them with expert martial prowess, and Fatima simply utilizing a retractable baton to parry and disarm those who would attempt to harm her. In stark contrast, the novices were expending far more effort in the fight, visibly struggling, not for lack of strength or skill, but rather, because they simply didn’t know how to engage a foe without destroying them. Killing the enemy is easy, but when your duty is to subdue the enemy without killing them or doing enough harm that you’ll ruin their life from there on is an art all of itself, an art that the Mythic Law Enforcement Academy wasn’t keen on teaching. The lacking curriculum was showing all of its weaknesses. That, and a sinister whisper that was invading their mind, which made itself more and more apparent, numbing their reactions, misleading their movements.

“W-what in the world is this...? It’s like there’s a compelling whisper inside of my head... Someone warm and kind, someone I trust, telling me to drop my guard when they attack or to soften my body whenever I try to disable one...!” Nadja said as she unsuccessfully tried to take a shovel away from a masked minion, who simply shrugged her off and shoved her right to the floor.

“Is it the fog? No... It couldn’t be, the fog is welcoming, it’s familiar, a scent of my childhood, it couldn’t...” Vinn lamented, seemingly giving himself up to an incoming lead pipe strike before Daryl pushed him out of the way.

“Oi, you damn idiots! Where’s yer Domunus Tecum!” Daryl chastised, holding off the criminals with his huge frame.

“Domunus Tecum...” “Domunus Tecum!”

The second of the Six Spell of Self Defense, the spell of protection and shielding, a prayer for resilience. No sooner the two novices put their barriers up, their minds cleared and their bodies could move as they wanted them to. The whisper was still in their heads, but it wasn’t compelling and absolute as it was before.

“Just what is this voice? I’m not the only one that can hear it, right?” the exasperated Vinn asked as he used his many handcuffs and his colorful, unorthodox fighting style to subdue attackers.

“Bad news is what it is. Keep your Domunus up and strong, don’t stop pouring mana into it, or that whisper will claim your mind.” Fiona warned, fighting the good fight.

“C-chief! Hold the presses! These guys...!” Daryl screamed suddenly, a robed figure captured tightly in arms, unmasked. “Chief Fiona, these people are brainwashed civilians! Look!”

The face of the woman in Daryl’s grasp was catatonic, to say the least. A vacant expression and half-lidded eyes that looked nowhere, drool and tear lines telling a story that thousands of words couldn’t hope to match. “Oi, we gotta disable them without harmin’ them! They are just meat shields!”

“Shit...! That means there’s one mastermind out there, and they are just exhausting us! Fatima, do you think--”

As if his mind was being read, Bastian couldn’t finish what he was saying before Fatima was right by his side. “--you could use your poison to--”

“Neutralize them? Yeah, if I control the dosage, I can make it so I can knock them out with a sting each, enough to paralyze their muscles and yet not leave any lasting damage. I’ll need some help keeping them off me while I do this to each one of them individually, though.”

“I gotcha!” Fiona proudly declared, rolling to where they were, dodging several shovel strikes. “Daryl and I can keep ‘em corralled while your girl defends you directly, and Bastian and his boy can go for the brains.”

“I agree to this plan, but, poison? What do you have in mind? Do you have enough for all these people?” Vinn wondered, joining them.

“Oh, don’t worry about her, after all...”

With a wild smirk, Fatima leaped high into the air, her arms growing green fur, and a wicked scorpion tail, massive and heavy, protruding from her back, just under two pairs of feathered wings. Where there once was her elegant face now lies a lion’s roaring maw. She was much bigger than before, her impact on the ground sending several masked minions off balance.

“...She’s a Manticore. And a fat one at that, so she oughta have a lot of calories to turn to venom.” Bastian explained.

“STOP CALLING ME FAT, JACKASS.” the massive Manticore Fatima roared, deft swipes of her scorpion tail knocking out minion after minion, barb oozing with venom.

“We’ve got this area, you two! Get going! Whoever’s behind the fog, the whispers, and this mess is no doubt in that building over there. It’s the only structure to have a clear path to the streets in case they need to escape, and where they can survey all of this area!” explained the bruiser Fiona, joining Daryl in trying to corral the remaining minions with their superior physical strength.

“Yeah, we’ll get this over in a second. Let’s roll, Vinn!”

                                                   ——-

Two pairs of footsteps echoed in the smaller building, dark and permeated with the fog. Bastian and Vinn both had their Domunus barrier on at full strength, the incessant whispers of the once-compelling voice never going silent.

“This keeps getting worse and worse...” lamented Bastian, double checking how much water he had left in his flasks. “Vinn, do not let up your barrier. It could mean death.”

“What is this whispering, anyways? I’ve never felt anything like it, and I don’t think I’ve read on this before.”

“It could be a curse, but there’s not been enough time to set up one of this nature with such an intensity, so what I think is... Vinn, are you familiar with Mindreaders?”

“Of course, those who can read minds and such. It’s theorized that, Pre-Amnesia, Mindreading was highly illegal and dangerous, given how many surviving records there are that explain, in great detail, how to defend against it. It’s considered useless now, since everyone worth a lick of salt in the arcane arts learns how to counter it.”

“Textbook answer, as usual.” -- Bastian chuckled -- “Well, what I think we’re up against right now, and I hope I’m wrong, is a Mindscreamer.”

“A what?”

“Mindscreamer. It’s the opposite of a Mindreader. Instead of being able to read your thoughts, Mindscreamers practically broadcast their thoughts into others by force. Whatever they think, you ‘hear’ inside your head. They can also make it so their thoughts are subliminal and subconscious in your brain, controlling your behavior to a degree. It’s a really damn frightening power.’

“What...?” Vinn couldn’t believe what he was hearing, and yet, the constant whispering in his brain since the courtyard brawl began proved that these were no lies. “I’ve never heard of Mindscreamers before, what kind of wicked art is this? You’d think it’d be more popular, with how powerful it sounds.”

“That’s the thing: You can’t learn how to Mindscream. Mindscreamers are born, it’s not a skill, it’s genetic and exclusive to certain individuals, but we don’t know much about it. In a way, that means that, yeah, we don’t really have to worry about it falling in the hands of just about any thug, but... It also means we are up against someone very special, and that knows what they are doing. Take this fog, for instance.”

“I noticed... This fog smells like incense, like chamomile, specifically, but it’s actually haunted. It’s Incense Magic, and this is tailored to numb the senses and lower your mental defenses.”

“Clever boy. Indeed, the incense lowers one’s mental barriers, which makes you susceptible to the Mindscreaming. Whoever is doing this is competent, do not drop your guard. This is how they kidnapped all of these people almost effortlessly: They simply made them come ‘of their own free will’ with Mindscreaming... Sick bastards.”

The Exorcist duo kicked open a door in front of them at the end of a long hallway, and inside, an immensely dense cloud of magic incense blocked their sight. The air was stagnant, almost putrid, and there were things in this room. Piercing glares that couldn’t be seen but could perfectly be felt stabbed the two Exorcists as soon as they entered the room. Before long, a couple of pig-masked minions, brainwashed civilians, no doubt, slowly became discernible in the dense purple fog, with bright, neon-like markings making them stand out in the fog. They moved with far more coordination than the courtyard fodder, shuffling around, circling, keeping their distance, never moving too close, but never straying too far from the surrounded agents. Bastian lashed at a cluster with a tendril of holy water, missing the mark completely as they swiftly moved out of the way.

“...The Mindscreamer is in this room. They are being controlled too well, too skillfully. These aren’t like the puppets we fought on the first fl--!”

The subtle whisper of cold steel sliding through flesh cut the older Exorcist off as a knife plunged deep in his torso from the left, a masked minion without any neon markings having made it past his watchful eye as his focus was on the neon marked masks, a pained grunt and a hammer of pressurized water impacting against his assailant punctuating his sentence instead. “Mother fu... Clever bastards...”

“Bastian, are you ok!? Damn, they are using neon marked and non-marked masks! While we focus on the barely visible neon, they come at us with the plain ones. What a cheap tactic...”

“Cheap it may be, but it’s working! Focus on defending!”

Even with In Te Fallitur, the first spell of detection and true sight active, the sheer magic density of the incense made it difficult to see nonetheless, their vision improving just slightly. Assault after assault, the duo was sustaining more and more injuries at the hands of this well utilized assassin horde. Whenever a neon mask moved, two plain masks slid in the gaps of their perception, getting closer and closer, until they could hurt either Exorcist. Their attacks didn’t pack much power against the protected Exorcists, individually, but as the damage piled on, it was clear this was a battle of attrition they were not going to win by any means, especially considering that their enemies were but brainwashed civilians they couldn’t bring themselves to hurt seriously. 

“Haa... Haa... Bastian, can you make an intense flash of light somehow? With a flashbang or some small spell?”

“...Sounds like you have an idea... I can, but what do you want to do with it?”

“There’s really no time to explain!” Vinn barked as he parried an incoming knife just in time with a pair of handcuffs. “Just play it cool and shoot it right above that big group over there!”

“Vague ideas are better than no ideas at all, and we can’t keep this up for much longer... Alright, Aureola Oblito!”

As the spark that would soon become an explosion of intense light approached its point of contact, the ceiling above the horde’s densest point, the nimble Vinn Ingram lunged towards its center like a wolf in blood-starved hunt, shoving past the henchmen and women, and defending against pipes and knives. When he finally reached it, he yelled at Bastian, which he considered the signal, and looked down immediately.

“Praemium!”

Upon command, the little spark went supernova, a blinding light engulfing the room immediately, with every meat puppet in the room covering their eyes as if blinded, and yet, the light was rapidly devoured by the fog after its initial explosion. As the light faded, however, a man’s loud scream of pain echoed at the end of the room. It wasn’t Vinn’s or Bastian’s, it was the man who wore a plain pig’s mask in the middle of the horde, a knife sticking out of his arm, courtesy of Vinn.

“...How did you know?” the pig-headed man inquired, and he was immediately sent barreling backwards by a kick straight to the head, also courtesy of Vinn.

“You looked down to avoid the light. All of these people are brainwashed and not conscious, thus, blinding them wouldn’t do a thing to them. We’ve been striking them for a while now, and they show no sign or reaction of pain. You just made them act as if they were blinded, and joined in the act, but you yourself looked down so as to not be blinded, while the rest didn’t. Good try, though.”

“Quickly, stop flapping your gums and actually catch him!” Bastian screamed as he made his way through the now far less coordinated horde.

Vinn complied, but as he approached him, the Hog Priest lashed out with a large dagger, rolling backwards after Vinn stepped back to avoid being lacerated. Before Vinn could make his way to him, however, the Priest and another exact look alike became entangled in a strange dance, with many more plain masked minions joining in, and then, they all ran in different directions.

“...! Shit, clever bastard! There’s no way to tell which one’s the real one!”

“Don’t lose your cool, Vinn! The third one to the right is heading towards that staircase, which likely leads to a room adjacent to the streets, while the one to the far left is going towards a door, likely with the same idea in mind! The others are running randomly, but those two make sense in their retreat! It’s either of them, go after the right one, I’ll get the left one, go!”

“You may be a nasty customer, but damn, you pull your weight, Bastian! Good thinking! Catch him!”

                                                  ——-

Vinn chased the figure that might be the real Hog Priest ceaselessly, door after door, hallway after hallway, until the figure stopped in the middle of a large storage room with no windows, no doors, no exits. Cornered at last, the Hog Priest simply turned around and faced the Exorcist, the eyes of the disgusting, realistic pig’s head mask meeting Vinn’s green own. 

“It’s dead end for you, piggy. Undo the incense and the mind control, and turn yourself in nice and easy. Without your horde, you are out of luck.”

“Hmhm... Haha! Very nice, you... What a cruel mistress luck is, having me do this with you, of all people...” the muffled voice from behind the mask praised, a distinctly softer, different voice from the one before, which didn’t escape Vinn’s attention. “Now, you might be thinking, ‘did I get the right guy?’, and I have good news and bad news for you!” -- the Priest struck a cutesy and quirky pose while saying this, pointing at Vinn -- “Which do you want first?”

“P-pardon...?”

“I said! Which! Do you want! First! Good news or bad news!”

“...Good news?”

The exaggerated Priest lifted his arms in mock excitement, clapping and cheering excitedly with chants of “Woo! Exorcist! Exorcist!” before finally assuming a new pose. “Alright, so, the good news! The good news are that you have indeed caught the Hog Priest, congratulations!”

“...But your vo--”

“--ice is not the same you heard before, right? Yeah, about that... Here’s more good news: There’s two of us! So no matter which one of us you followed, and you followed both of us, there were only winning picks!”

Vinn immediately produced two pairs of handcuffs. “So, two of you, huh...? Well, that’s twice the questions we get to ask then, those are pretty good news.”

“Sadly, I also am obligated to tell you the bad news.” the Priest sadly informed, sticking an hand inside of his robes and producing a baseball bat covered in various, strange runes, pointing it at Vinn. “The bad news is that you die here.” she announced with an arctic voice unlike her variety show host demeanor of seconds before, taking a step forward and sending thunderbolts down Vinn’s spine. It was not the first time he’d been face to face with mortal danger, it was not the first time his life has been at risk, it was not the first time he was faced with a strong opponent. But, it was the first time in Vinn’s life that his body and mind screamed for him to get out of there fast, a primal, visceral flight response that didn’t even pretend to bother with the ‘fight’ half.

The bat came faster than a bullet from above, Vinn managing to block it only by reaction, leaving him wide open to kick to the gut which knocked the air out of him, and a subsequent palm strike to the chin that sent him barreling backwards against the wall. The Exorcist, in a panic, produced his standard issue handgun, pointing it at the Priest.

“You should’ve keep me close. Hands up, Hog Priest.”

“...That’s not even a Shootist Gun, that’s just a regular one. You... You are not taking this seriously, are you?”

Vinn took aim at his enemy’s leg and let loose a round, hoping to incapacitate him, but a simple swipe of the bat deflected the bullet right out of its path, the battered projectile hitting the wall next to Vinn’s head, missing him by a hair. “What the...!?”

“You really are a novice, huh. Should’ve kept to patrols and such, instead of getting roped into this hell. Then again, you yourself willing dropped into the wolf’s maw the moment you decided to become an Exorcist. Is the paycheck of a murderer really that tempting?”

“Not all of us are murderers! We’re trying to change it, we’re trying to heal this rotten system from within, which is more than can be said of mass kidnappers like you, so don’t you try and lecture me about moral codes!”

“Ah, yeah, in the eyes someone that doesn’t know what’s going on, of course it’s gonna look like we are the bad guys. ‘Changing it from within’, that’s some prime, class-A bullshit. You can’t possibly believe that. You’re smart enough to know you are but one good seed among a fetid, infected crop. You won’t fix the harvest by yourself.”

The Priest lowered his bat and pointed towards the door. “Leave.”

“...Huh?”

“You are outmatched. Leave through that door, exit the warehouse through the office sector, and desert the Mythic Affairs Bureau. Never again take on the mantle of the Exorcist, do something else. It’s for your own good. Do this, and I will not take your life. I will even guarantee you safe passage until you are out of Stroln.”

Vinn struggled to pick himself up after the brief but intense beating he sustained, putting his evidently useless handgun away. “...Why are you giving me a way out? What do you mean by a ‘good seed’?”

The disgusting pig in front of him tapped the “ear” of his mask. “A little bird told me that you do sincerely care for Mythics. You helped out a demon yesterday, helped him find a job that allows him to feed on human emotions without harming anyone when you simply could’ve smoked him. You’re a good person in a bad guy’s job, so I’m willing to compromise... No, I want to let you live. We need more people like you in the world.”

The disappointment in the hog’s fake eye was palpable when Vinn took a fighting stance instead.

“...Last chance, Exorcist. I’ll hold back no more.”

“How about you fuck off. I’m not gonna get lectured on morality by someone who brainwashes a bunch of people for a mass kidnapping. I’m through trying to reason with you. I’m done playing sweet. Let’s go for real.”

With a sigh and a head scratch, the hog picked up his bat and assumed a combat stance again. “I really wish we could’ve done this differently, but if you insist... I’ll give you a proper burial, at least.”

“Domunus Tecum!” the Exorcist chanted, renewing his protective spell, but he was not done. “Hostem Repellas Longius!” As he chanted this spell, a faint, red light covered Vinn’s body. Hostem Repellas Longius, the third of the Six Spells of Self-Defense, the spell of hostility, offense, and righteous violence. Simple as they may be, the strength of the Six Spells does indeed lie in simplicity, and with every brick you put on top of a good base, you get closer to making a wall. With attack and defense ready, Vinn put away one pair of handcuffs, holding only one with his left hand.

No more words were shared between the two, and they clashed fiercely in the middle of the spacious storage room, handcuffs meeting bat, the colliding steel singing a frantic sonata to which these individuals who couldn’t be more conflicted danced vigorously. Overhead strike, left swipe, shin kick, neck shot, eye gouge, they tried it all, and none could land. Vinn certainly seemed much different than before, and in a moment of carelessness, the Exorcist managed to grab the bat by the head.

“...! What’s with this grip!? Let go!” the Priest wined, struggling to get the bat back.

“Sure, here you go.”

Vinn’s hand glowed a dim silver and suddenly began vibrating at extreme intensities, the sheer force from the vibrations hurting the Priest’s arm, making her lose her balance from the pain. Using this opening, Vinn threw the bat away and lunged with his hand, grabbing the Priest by the shoulder, gripping hard for just a second before a skillful twirl of the Priest’s arm allowed him to set himself free.

“What was that...? You didn’t have enough time to do any of that weird vibration stuff to me.”

“It’s over, Priest. Don’t use your left arm and just surrender.”

The Priest simply laughed. “That bat thing was surprising, but you didn’t do anything to me. Now I know to watch out for it. I don’t feel bad at all, in fact, it’s like my left shoulder feels even better than before! Sucks to be y--!”

As the Priest picked the discarded bat back up with his left arm, an explosion of blood gushed from his shoulder, the sheer force of it shredding even the red robe and exposing his flesh, the Priest tumbling to the side and falling to the concrete ground, clutching his bloody mess of a shoulder as he screamed in agonizing pain. “W-what the fuck did you do to me!? Aaaargh!”

“You got confident without even knowing my style of magecraft, and now you’re paying the price. It’s simple in theory: Flux Magic. I know how to control the eb, flow, and movement of mana particles.”

“Haha, what...?” laughed the Priest, still in pain. “That’s... Fucking crazy... So that vibration was just you making a mass of mana vibrate at immense speed... You’re just full of surprises, aren’t you?”

“And your shoulder just now was me injecting you with an immense amount of mana, more than your body could possibly handle. Hence, when you moved the afflicted part, it burst like that. You were feeling well because you literally had an injection of energy given to you.”

“Clever bastard, first I see of anyone applying such an otherwise ignored principle of magic emission, Flux, in this creative a way. Hats off to you, friend. I suppose I gotta show my hand now.”

“Wait, if you move with that wound--”

Vinn’s warning fell upon deaf ears as the Priest, left shoulder oozing blood, dashed right against Vinn to renew his assault. Handcuffs parried the bat, but it was nothing more than a feint, Vinn’s stomach catching a knee that made him double in pain. As he tried to get his bearings, the bat’s runes glowed an eerie teal, the weapon bludgeoning Vinn in the side, sending him tumbling.

“Alright, let’s see what we get... Become The Body Of His Innermost Shackles! Terror Ink!”

From within the robes of the Priest, a turbulent torrent of ink exploded forth, covering the bat and transmogrifying it into what looked like a bizarre, serrated hoop weapon. Upon seeing it, Vinn was left speechless.

“Why... Why do you have that...!? That’s impossible!”

One didn’t have to look at the face behind the mask to know that the Priest’s expression was currently a smug grin. “So this is what you fear the most, huh...? Weird weapon. I can’t begin to imagine what its wielder must have done to terrify you so. This is Rorschach Magic, the Terror Ink. Anything inscribed with the right runes and provided with the ink can turn into the biggest fear of whatever it strikes. In this case, this weird... Hoola hoop thingy... Whatever it is. Well, let’s test it, shall we?”

The Hog Priest’s assault was renewed again, slashing and swiping with the bizarre ring-like weapon, one of the ends of the ‘ring’ detaching and flailing wildly as if seeking Vinn with a mind of its own. “Oh! It detaches! So it’s like a bladed whip, too!”

“Put that away! You have no idea what you’re playing with!”

“Nah, I’m good, now please die quietly, or at least making a funny noise!”

The weapon was extremely confusing. It moved with a mind of its own, one end reattaching and the other detaching at seemingly random swings, clearly not the Priest’s doing, wounding Vinn with each tricky, impossible twirl of the notched edges. Vinn, catching him by surprise, leaned forward instead of retreating anymore, as his back would hit the wall any second now, and clinched the Priest, trying to knock his weapon away, his superior positioning allowing him to elbow the Priest right on the wounded shoulder.

“Hraaa!”

“You’re done!”

But as Vinn went for another deadly grip, on the exposed parts of the Priest’s robe, thanks to the earlier bloody burst and the tugging their clinch had brought to their clothes, he saw something that he simply couldn’t comprehend.

Just below the left shoulder blade, there it was, a tattoo that he was sure was the circular object wreathed in something spiky he briefly saw on the girl yesterday. Seeing this, he immediately shoved the Priest and made some distance.

“Ooph! What...? You’ll really regret giving me space to move ag-- Huh?”

“You... Are the girl from yesterday, aren’t you? The one who helped me with Mathanac!”

“...”

“Why are you doing this? It’s you, isn’t it? I recognize the tattoo. You are the same height, too, now that I think about it.”

“...Aha, shit.”

With his free hand, nay, her free hand, the Priest removed the large pig mask and tossed it aside. Behind it was a beautiful girl with striking magenta eyes and shoulder length white hair, her right lock dyed black. A tragically familiar face, with a pained, regretful smile.

Just yesterday, they were hanging out in the streets of Stroln, trying to find Mathanac a job.

“Hey there, Mister Exorcist. Cat’s out of the bag, it seems!”

“Why are you doing this...?” the anguished Vinn inquired.

“Hey now, it’s not like we are lifelong friends or nothin’, don’t get all dramatic on me. This is just... Who I am, really. One half of the Hog Priest, protector of Mythics, and seeker of clarity.”

“What does that even mean? Why kidnap so much people?”

“Mister Exorcist... Vinn. Look, please, just walk away. Pretend this never happened. It’s impossible for you to believe me right now, I understand, but you gotta trust me, we are doing this for the common good. It sure as hell doesn’t look like it now, but this is all for the good not just of Stroln, but of the world. We need these people, and we’re not gonna hurt them or anything! I promise!”

“How can I possibly believe that when every moment since I stepped in here has been a fight to just stay alive?!”

“If Exorcists were the kind of people that you could explain things to, we wouldn’t need to do this! You are decent, Vinn, but you are the exception! Exorcists are a rotten bunch! There’s simply no more time, we need to--”

In the middle of her impassioned speech, an alarm went off on the bulky wristwatch the girl was wearing. 

“...Tsk. Vinn, this is my last warning.” she murmured, with softness and honesty, not a hint of hostility to her voice. “You really are a good guy. I could tell from how much effort you put into helping Mathanac yesterday, and with how much respect you treated him. Please, walk away. Retire from the Exorcists, and leave Stroln. It’s going to get ugly, and we need people like you in the coming world, people that will receive Mythics with arms wide open. If we meet again in these conditions, know that I will not show you a shred of mercy.”

“...The coming world? What’s that supposed to mean?”

“Good bye, Vinn. And for both our sakes, let’s not meet again until the next world arrives.”

The wicked weapon in her hand suddenly turned black, and then seemed to melt. As the ink peeled from it, its true shape as a baseball bat returned. Pulling a little detonator from the robe’s pocket, the girl smeared some of the neon paint the other masks had across her face and smiled farewell as she pressed it, an explosion nearby blasting a hole in the wall.

                                                 ——-

                                                                            Meanwhile, in another room,                                                                            in another part of the building...

“Isn’t the view up here just divine, Bastian Ashfield?”

“Yeah, I gotta give it to you, man. You’ve gone and given me the perfect scenario, not gonna lie.”

“Oh? Is that so? Would you mind elaborating?”

“I ain’t much of a nature landscape fan, but urban stuff? Cities? My jam. Love ‘em. I also love interrogating domestic terrorists. In some minutes, I’ll be making you spit blood, curses, and answers while enjoying the beauty of Stroln in the afternoon, and that? That’s priceless. If I had a nice, bodacious babe to praise me while I’m kneeing you in the throat, it’d be my second birthday, not gonna lie.”

“Haha! Confidence is really good. Exorcist scum really dream big, don’t they?”

“Damn right we do, and I dream the biggest of them all. So, are we done flirting?”

“Very much so, Ashfield.”

The banter was followed with silent sizing up, not one of the two men moving an inch as they stood on top of the main building’s rooftop. It had been an arduous, lengthy pursuit, but it all came to this. Face to face at last with the wanted criminal, Hog Priest, the Hydromancer was already grinning like a madman. He truly had been waiting for a chance to unwind, you see.

Without warning, a sharp, potent tendril of pressurized water lunged directly towards the Priest like a lance, only to be met with an invisible wall, mana sparks and the sound of magical diffusion concluding with a mass of useless water falling helplessly to the floor. Stretching his arms, the Priest let out a chuckle, hundreds of incense sticks popping out of his robes all over his body.

“What...?”

“Vervain incense, Ashfield.” the Priest explained mockingly. “Very strong magic retardant. For once in your life, splashing water around won’t save you.”

“Incense Magic... Never thought I’d come across someone wacky enough to weaponize it for combat. Still, defense seems to be your only strong point, so I just need to punch through and I’ll be gold.”

“And how do you figure you’ll do that?”

“Well, I could do this, for starters.”

Just as suddenly as the first tendril, two massive jets of water erupted behind Bastian, propelling him with immense speed towards the Hog Priest, getting close enough to use a pressurized water slash that came a hair short of beheading the porcine foe thanks to his reflexes, managing to duck just in time with only the mask’s top being sliced off.

“Woah, man! What happened to that ‘interrogation’? Dead men tell no tales!”

“You can survive long enough without a piece of your face, no biggie.” calmly explained Bastian. “...That incense only protects you against long range magic, huh? Makes sense. The farther magic is from its caster, the less magic emission remains in it. That incense of yours has a heavy enough disruption that spells with little emission remaining in them will not be able to penetrate it, but the emission of my holy water is strong enough to pierce through it if I am close enough... You knew this, however.”

“Astute observation, mister miscreant. How do you figure the last part, though?”

The Exorcist smirked. “You have a pistol hanging by a holster on your right hip under those robes. You intended to keep me away by using it, rendering me helpless to hurt you from afar. And it could have worked, had you actually stopped flapping your gums and actually focused on the fight. You’re not much of a fighter, are you?”

Impressed, the Priest couldn’t help but lift his arms in not-so-mocking surrender. “...Guilty as charged. I’m not a fighter, no. My partner handles the direct combat end of the business, truth be told.”

A vinyl scratch inside Bastian’s head brought him to a full stop. “Wait, partner? Hold on, so the decoy that Vinn went after--”

As shock overcame Bastian, the crafty hog quickly reached for the gun on his hip, but Bastian, seasoned fighter as he is, immediately closed the distance again with two water propulsion jets.

“You got too cocky, shithead!” Bastian boasted, as his arm ascended to direct the water Priestwards, a splatter of crimson blood and the horrifying sound of ripping flesh polluting the air as a scream of agony echoed in the skies above the rooftop.

“...Did I, now, dear Ashfield?”

“W-what the shit...?”

With a loud thud, Bastian hit the floor harshly after being sent flying, a gash on his chest oozing blood. On the other side of the rooftop, the still-standing Priest had two massive spikes protruding from his chest, red with the blood of the Hydromancer they just downed. Removing his robe and torn mask, the Priest revealed short black hair, a scar on the right side of his face, and amber eyes. He looked like he was in his late 30s, with a mostly skinny, not-quite-lanky frame. Most notoriously, he was fully clad in stitched-together leather, crudely put together and of different animals by the looks of it. His jacket, shirt, pants, and even boots, all made of patchwork leather. The spikes slowly retracted back into his chest, seamlessly disappearing into his body, staining his shirt with the blood that was on the horns.

“You jumped the gun, friend, pun absolutely intended. You didn’t even consider I might have a way to deal with you up close.”

The blood oozing from Bastian’s chest slowly stopped, and it seemed to being drawn back into his chest by an unnatural force. “Oh!” the Priest exclaimed. “Your command of Hydromancy never ceases to amaze, Ashfield! Pulling your own blood back inside you with it! I guess it takes grit like this in order to live in the way you have.”

“S-stop talkin’ as if you know shit about me... What the hell was that...? I sense... Necromancy?” panted the wounded Exorcist, still on the floor, unable to move much. That statement made the man’s face shine with joy.

“You have a good eye, Ashfield. This is failed Necromancy... A poor man’s version, a mere counterfeit. Like every other Necromancer out there, I’ll never be a full fledged master of the death. However, I have no interest in that, and just this much control is good enough for me. My specialty is leather, allowing me to temporarily revive and reform any animal from leather, just for a short while, but hey, that’s all I need. Bringing back people is way out of my scope and ability, haha. What you experienced just now were the horns of a bull whose hide I have stitched on this shirt.” With a jolly stride and a confident gait, he approached the felled Hydromancer to deliver the last blow. “It was great playing with you, Ashfield, but you are a big pain in the ass, so I gotta put you out now, see ya!” From his right sleeve, a tiger’s foot materialized, razor sharp claws at the ready, and... Nothing. Nothing happened afterwards, as a spike seemed to have pierced the leather-clad man right through his chest. “...Ah... Haha, curses... You’re right, I’m not much of a fighter...” Bastian simply smirked again.

“Thanks for getting close enough to let me use my own blood on your shirt like that. Love ya.” Bastian had used the blood he had splattered on his assailant to pierce him from point blank range, incapacitating both men. It was pointless to even try to attack each other at this point, as the counter would kill the other.

“Pretty fancy necromancy you got there, friend. Leagues more creative than your run-of-the-mill shithead kid who revives a rat or a feral dog... Asperges Me, Domine.” commented Bastian as he put his hand on wound, controlling the blood so it stays inside while using a healing spell to close the wound.

“Me? Fancy? Don’t lie to yourself, Ashfield. Your Hydromancy is far more interesting. I don’t know how you get away with it, but surely more people have noticed it’s a facsimile, right?” the necromancer retorted, producing a needle from his utility belt and injecting himself in the arm.

“...!”

The Priest missed naught a beat in savoring the shock on Bastian’s face. “Heh, I knew it. You tricky scamp, of course I’d notice. I have plenty of experience and knowledge on spellweaving theory. You, sir, are no Hydromancer.”

“I command water, that’s Hydromancy, so you’re not really making a lot of sense here, amigo.”

“Oh, way too late to try and play it cool, friend. The cat is already out of the bag. Hydromancy is a traditional art of the Shaman school of magic. You befriend a spirit of water, make a pact with them, and with the spirit as a proxy, you gain control over the element of water. You, sir, have no such contract. Hydromancers are rare because it wouldn’t make sense to limit yourself to a single element. If you can make a pact with a water spirit, you surely can do the same with the other elements.”

“There’s plenty of ways to control water, Sir Pig.”

“Yup, and you are employing none of them. A way to bypass the pact with a spirit is to master control of remote mana particle emission, but that would only allow you to project water at short range, and without much potency. There’s far more practical uses of such power, and you make no use of them, meaning you have no such mastery. I can prove you haven’t made a single contract with a spirit of water as well, because you utilize holy water in your Hydromancy. Imbuing water with foreign energies, such as the holy energies of the Arc, is an insult to the spirits, and it would weaken your water, if not sever your pact with the spirit outright. Your water is most assuredly very powerful.”

“...”

“Just what are you, Bastian Ashfield? How come you can use water in the way you do? Could this be, perhaps, some sort of divi--”

“Shut the hell up!”

His wound finally closed, Bastian haphazardly stood up, ready to continue the fight. With a resigned, if not bemused sigh, the incense master stood up as well. “Mm, the drugs kicked in. Alright, let’s go, Hydroboy. Hit me with the best fake water you can muster, haha.”

“Man, props to you, you really get under my skin!”

As round two began, tendrils of water clashed with powerful tiger claws, pressurized jets of water were deflected by a tortoise shell, and a crocodile’s head was stopped from biting Bastian’s carotid artery just barely thanks to water spikes produced at the last second. The two men were evenly matched, and just as their dance was reaching its utmost violence, the large wristwatch on the man’s right wrist rang off an alarm. 

“...Time flies when you’re having a blast. Well, Ashfield, it was a pleasure to meet you, but I must take my leave. This has gone long enough.” 

Producing a small detonator from his pocket, the man pressed it without any hesitation or explanation -- apparently learning something about not flapping your gums in front of the enemy and just doing what you need to do --  and jumped off the railings of the rooftop, a series of explosion engulfing other parts of the warehouse complex.

“Shit, wait! You!” Bastian yelled as he approached the railings. Looking down, he saw the man safely running down the side of the building. That is, manifesting two long and thick ostrich legs from his back that stepped with such strength that their feet dug into the concrete of the building, safety being able to descend that way. “Bastard! He had it all planned...! I gotta get down there!”

“Adieu, my dear Ashfield! The name’s Balthazar Wharwood! Forget me not! Haha!”

                                                ——-

“Fatima, Daryl, help me shield the civilians from the debris! Nadja, go and assess the situation behind the building those two went to, it’s possible they might need your help with their escape if they haven’t captured them yet!”

With a collective “roger!”, everyone got to their task as assigned by Fiona, Nadja’s agile strides quickly getting her inside of the building. 

“I gotta say, Chief! Yer pretty cool when ya ain’t drunk off your ass!” excitedly proclaimed Daryl as he helped carry the no-longer hostile, but very much disabled civilians out of the dangerous warehouse.

“If that’s your idea of a compliment, my idea of gratitude will be to knock your lights out with a flawless right hook once we are out of here!” Fiona barked back.

“Keep your heads in the game, please! I cannot carry all of them safely without you to help me, even with this Manticore body!” pleaded Fatima as she carried as many people as she could on her back, safeguarding them with her wings.

Every couple of seconds, a new bomb went off, ever increasing the threat to the people in the premises. With just their limited numbers, they were saving as many people as they could.

                                                ——-

As Vinn finally reached the first floor, he made a beeline for the door that leads to the street, coming face to face with Nadja, who came from another hallway. 

“Are you alright, Ingram?”

“I’ve been worse, but no time to chit chat, she’s getting away!”

“She? The Hog Priest is a woman?”

“I’ll explain later, but if you see a girl with magenta eyes and white hair, she’s our mark.”

“Acknowledged.”

As the novice duo went into the street, there, in the distance, was the girl in the red robes with the baseball bat, alongside a tall, skinny man clad fully in leather. “...That must be the other Hog Priest next to her.”

“Hog Priest is two people? What a day. I’ll take the man, you go for the girl, since you were fighting her recently, you know what tricks to expect from her.”

They both nodded and dashed with all their might towards the Hog Priest duo, but just as they were reaching them, a line of machine gun fire threatened to fill them with holes, the two Exorcists backing away at the nick of time. 

“Ah, just on time, Sir Gatling Knight!” Balthazar greeted with joy, grabbing the white haired girl by the hand and running away towards a black van that awaited them nearby. The girl herself had no words, and just looked at Vinn in the eye one last time, bitterness and disappointment in those magenta eyes, before facing the truck and never looking back.

“Darn! What was that...!? Ingram, back away.”

“Don’t worry, Wharwood...” a muffled, sinister, if uninterested voice finally replied. “I’ll keep them away from you while you run with your tail between your legs.”

From their left side, a tall man clad from tip to toe in riot gear with several ornate engravings, a ballistic helmet with a visor that hid his face, and a cape on each shoulder that draped over the entirety of each arm approached them, a heavy machine gun trained at them casually with just one hand.

“I’ve no orders to kill you, but I can make an exception if you insist on pursuing them.” he announced not as a threat, but as a promise, the green machine gun disappearing behind the green cape, vanishing just like that.

“Move aside. We’ve no time to waste with you while they are escaping...!” Nadja commanded as she rushed not towards the van, but at the man himself. “You can give us answers, too!”

“Wait, Nadja! Don’t!”

But Vinn’s warning came too late. In just the flash of an eye, Nadja lunged at the man with a stake, which he shot out her hand with a pistol he produced out of thin air behind the green cape, making her recoil from the shock. As she fell, from his other hand came a shotgun, which he pressed against her gut and shot, the blood she spewed staining his visor and riot chestpiece.

“G-guah...!”

“N-Nadja!”

“Worthless. You, boy. Don’t make waste more ammo. The van is gone, anyways. You have no more reason to oppose me.” The armored man then simply threw the wounded Nadja at Vinn, turned around, and walked towards a manhole without the cover, presumably where he came from.

“Who are you? Why are you helping them?” Vinn asked as he tried to stabilize the wounded Nadja.

“...I’m the Gatling Knight, and why I help them is none of your business, but mark my words, on my honor as a Knight, if you oppose them, then you are bound to face me again, and if that happens, I’ll shoot you down where you stand. The first time you see me is a warning. The second time is your funeral. Be smart and don’t recklessly pursue your funeral. Now, tend to that fool. Her Domunus Tecum is flawless. If treated, she might survive.”

“...”

“Hoh, that’s a hateful glare, if I’ve ever seen one. Consider this, kid: You attack me now, you will meet the asphalt just as she did. You are exhausted from fighting Sacrifice, so you’re not at your 100%. I take you down now, and both of you die. You take her back, she might just make it. Your call. I can spare a few bullets, if you truly wish to force my hand.”

Cursing under his breath, Vinn had no choice but to carry Nadja back to where the other Exorcists were, as it was pointless to stay here, what with the Priests having escaped and his colleague nearing death with every passing second.

To call this operation successful would be a joke, Vinn though to himself.

“...And what did he mean by ‘Sacrifice’...?”

                                               ——-

                                                                                                 August 7th                                                                                                   12:01 PM                                                                                           7th Office’s Infirmary

“...And that’s what happened on my end.” said Vinn, concluding his report.

“I see, we both had a dog of a day, it seems. Damn pigs...” the bed-bound Bastian said with a half-laugh. “...Never imagined the Hog Priest, well, Priests would show up like this and cause this much trouble mere days after you started. You must really be cursed to end with me as your partner and those two wackos as your first foes, bwahaha.”

The younger Exorcist couldn’t help but laugh. “Man, the Academy really didn’t prepare me for this, I want a freaking refund. How are you holding up?”

“Doc says I gotta chill for the rest of today and tomorrow, and I should be golden. Oh, dunno if you heard, but after yesterday, all six of us have been given today and tomorrow as days off to recover properly. Which sucks, because it’s two days I gotta spend cooped up in here. Well, at least the good doc will keep me company, right?”

“I’ll just make it easy on myself and juice you up with so many painkillers that you’ll simply sleep the two days away, honestly.” doctor Aria casually commented from the other side of the Infirmary, a hint of playfulness in her voice.

“Aww, come on, Aria, you don’t gotta be that way.” jokingly commented Bastian. Vinn was somewhat surprised at how well these two seemed to get along. Bastian getting along with anyone was kind of a surprise. “So, yeah, go and take it easy, and... Discard that long face, boyo.”

“...Hm?”

“Oh, don’t HMM me, Vinn Ingram.” the Hydromancer chided. “I know your goody-two-shoes stiff little ass is probably all depressed because of how they got away yesterday. But, the fact is, the operation was successful.”

“...Was it really?”

“It was. We all survived, for starters. Nadja is in critical state, but Aria here is the best Arc damned doctor I’ve met in my life, and that I’ll possibly meet in my life, plus, Nadja’s Domunus was apparently strong enough that a point blank shotgun blast didn’t shred her organs to pieces. That should’ve killed her immediately, and yet, here she is. She’ll recover, I guarantee it. The rest of us were just battered and wounded to varying degrees, but we pulled through. The civilians? No casualties whatsoever. The bombs were a distraction, and none of them were placed anywhere where there were civilians. Fatima, Fiona, and Daryl made sure to evacuate all of them and search several times for more of them. All the missing people have been accounted for. We rescued them, Vinn.”

“...I didn’t consider it this way...”

“Look, man, I know seeing them escape is a kick in the dick, I know, but consider the rest of everything. We’ll get another shot at them, but had anyone died, there’s no coming back from that one. Not all of them are gonna go all flowers and sunshine, and hell, look at you, you are practically unscathed. Compare and contrast with my dumb ass that got saddled in bed. It’s fine, man. You’ll go crazy if you consider anything short of perfection a failure, man.”

“...Haha.”

“Hm? What’s up?”

“Nothing, nothing, it’s just so freaking weird to hear you be so nice and supportive, Bastian, that’s all, haha.”

“Yeah, and it’ll cost you 5000 patros. I expect them by the end of the month.”

“Hahaha, but really, thank, it helps a lot to hear that” Vinn said with a smile.

“Oi oi, don’t go smiling at me now, save those for nice girls, like the doc here. Hey doc, can I get a smile?”

Aria, without looking at him, just flipped him her middle finger.

“Bwahahaha, yeah, love you too, doc. Alright, Vinn, go enjoy your day off. Trust me, you’ll learn to treasure them.”

“Alright, I’ll just drop by the office to say hi to Nick and Dani and then go home.”

“Good idea. Oh, and Vinn?”

“Yeah?”

“A bit late, but welcome to the 3rd Division. We are going to get revenge on those sumbitches when round two comes, yeah?”

“You fuckin’ bet we will.”

It might not have been ideal, it might have been perilous, but what Bastian said was true, the operation was, ultimately, a success. A mass kidnapping prevented is indeed good news to numerous families, no one can deny that. The day was saved, and while the root of the problem is still alive, it would be foolish to not enjoy this little moment of peace, or so Vinn thought at least. Whatever little moments of peace he might have from now on, he must make the most of them, for he understands that this is merely the calm before the storm.

The girl’s words echoed in his head, particularly the “coming world” she mentioned. Stroln was slowly but surely being submerged in conflict, and with it, the casualties that inevitably come from the crossfire. More than anything, Vinn wanted to prevent that.

The future looked uncertain and bleak for Vinn, but at the same time, he witnessed firsthand how capable the 7th Office was.

As the door closed behind him, Vinn walked away from the Office, ready to rest his body and prepare his spirit for the trials that he knew were coming, and that he knew Bastian and him and the rest of the 7th would deal with. 

The world he wants rides on this, too, after all.

“...What a nice day for a nap.”

       Of incense, ink stains, and the murky menace lurking beneath it all:                                       – Chapter 3: Neon War Paint –                                                             End

                                                                           To be continued in Chapter 4

[wethuzz-and-friends]

Collection of dialogue I like between these guys

Farqua jumps into the train. Matro immediately presses the brakes. April steps forwards with her metal pipe but Matro gestures her to stop. 

Matro: Don’t worry about this one! Best y’leave this one with the adults.

Farqua: Matro’s right.

Farqua transforms his arm into a shovel. 

Farqua: I bet he’ll handle this, fine.

Matro: Look at that. You've brought out your favourite shovel. C’mon, what’s the deal?

========================================

Pillia: So! You want your parts back? Well, you’ve got a couple questions to answer, first. 

Farqua: C’mon, let’s face it, Pillia. Even if I did answer, I wouldn’t get my parts back until who knows when! So, no can do. 

Matro: The jacket’s off, Farqua. That means I’m all serious business.

April/Pillia: … *snicker*

========================================

Matro: Now, tell us, Farqua… Where were you getting these orders from? 

Farqua: *sigh* C’mon, do I have to answer this one? Gettin’ my ass kicked is the last thing I want from ‘em! And trust me, you don’t wanna know who they are, either…

Matro: Well, I wouldn’t mind the consequence, just as long as I get to see you getting your “ass kicked.” Now, that’s some prime entertainment I wouldn’t mind seeing!

Pillia: I second that!

Matro: Wh- Lia?!

========================================

Matro: … Anyway! You;ll be helping us get to ‘em. You do have all the information we need, right? 

Farqua: Haha! Whatever! Just good luck tryna what – talk ‘em outta this? 

Matro: Oh? Well, if we ever get to the point where that’s not possible, then— 

Farqua: YOU ACTUALLY THOUGHT YOU COULD JUST… TALK TO ‘EM AND TELL ‘EM TO STOP?! HAHAHA!

========================================

Matro drives. Farqua sits half-asleep at the shotgun. April and Pillia sit at the passenger seats. The remainder of the train is empty. Matro glances at Farqua for a moment. He taps Farqua’s head.

Matro: Farqua? ‘Ello? ...Ey? [Pause] ...You awake? Because I was wondering if it was okay if I played my music for a bit. [Pause] Farqua…? Y’low-bat or something?  [Pause] Hmph…

========================================

Farqua: UGH, screws in my ports - Y’all are little schtutts!

Pillia and April laugh a little. Farqua grumpily leans on the wall next to him.

Matro: ‘Ey. Keep that vocabulary out of kids, Farqua. 

Farqua: ...

Matro: … Aw, come on, cheer up! [Pause] ...Alright, I’ll leave you be,

Farqua looks at a dashboard doll of himself that’s stuck on Matro’s dashboard with a suction cup.

Farqua: [mumbling] Oh. That thing’s still there. Surprised ya even kept it-

Matro: What was that?

Farqua: Nothin’.

========================================

Matro: And on that anni-

Farqua: Just say “birthday,” old man.

Matro: I’m still depicted as to being in me 30s, thanks!

Farqua: Yeah. Late 30s.

========================================

Matro: [whispering] ‘Ey? I don’t see why they shouldn’t know about the matter!

Farqua: [whispering] Well, y- [normally] Ya know what? Fine, go keep at it. See if I care?

Matro: [whispering] Hmhm, tempting. Y’almost got me, there-

Parent: Farqua…? He’s here?

========================================

Doc: [To Matro] Oh yeah, that’s right; it has been a while. It’s good to see you, then!

Matro, while looking at Doc, types something on his electronic notebook behind him. 

Matro: Don’t mean to bother you, but how’ve you been? You alright?

Matro pretends to accidentally drop the notebook under his dashboard.

Doc: (Offscreen) Oh… Really, really busy. Well, I’m glad I’ve found this time to talk to you.

Now under the dashboard, the notebook reads “makr a sound and your DEAD!!!”

Farqua: …

Matro: (Offscreen) Oh yeah, I think so too.

========================================

Farqua: Can I have my legs back?

Matro: You’re faster than me. 

Farqua: What about my arms?

Matro: Can you hand-stand?

Farqua: You bet.

Matro: Then no.

Farqua: Then, what if I promised I wouldn’t run off?

Matro: What level are you in lying?

Farqua: Level one.

Matro: You big liar! You’re a level five from last time we tested! 

Farqua: *Sigh* 

========================================

Farqua: He’s got a diary? Why dontcha read it?

Matro: Uh- No! April, Lia - don't do that! 

Farqua: And why shouldn’t they? 

Matro: Well, not that it matters to you, but whether Sarlife’s a bad person or not doesn't mean those two shouldn't respect his privacy!

Farqua: They’re kids! Let ‘em have their fun.

Matro: C’mon, y’just want a peep at Sarlife’s diary, don’t you.

========================================

[tantkill]

7 8 9 10

OVERSHARING ASKS MEME   ///   not accepting

(   WHO DO YOU WISH YOU COULD BE HONEST WITH ??   ///   WHO HAVE YOU HARBORED ( ANY KIND OF !! ) SECRET FEELINGS TOWARDS ??   ///   WHO WOULD THE WORLD BE BETTER OFF WITHOUT ??   ///   WHO DO YOU WISH YOU’D TREATED DIFFERENTLY ??   )

                  ❛   i’ll admit, when you first asked me to have a cup of coffee with you, i didn’t think it would involve ANSWERING A COUPLE OF QUESTIONS, togami-kun. but it’s fine —— heh at least there’s no excuse like ‘ amnesia ’ to get in the way this time.   ❜ CURIOSITY CERTAINLY IS INTRIGUING TO LURE HIM BACK into her presence once again. asking for an audience takes it far likely as an honor   /   they’re co-workers and allies, on a professional level, after all   /. without admitting it, the lilac woman took note about this invitation being ‘ unlike him ’. his interest wouldn’t die to this day; lilacs somehow soften vaguely over a persistent mind that eggs her on. like a stubborn boy who refuses to leave the toy store without his favored one, he’s here with that similar gaze. one of the utmost confidence is practically begging to be severed by a porcelain stare. she could alter it without difficulty —— he’s grown softer with a touch of DEVELOPMENT IN HIS CHARACTER.          it’s a refreshing taste, she’ll admit to favoring …              they’ve all grown up.

                  pale lips curl into a faint smile, taking a sip of the coffee to proceed their little ‘ interrogation ’. such a stubborn man, she thought. ❛   well, i can safely say that i have never spoken a lie in my life. the honesty i carry is always revealed to the person right before me. i don’t favor TWISTING THE TRUTH for the sake of not hurting someone’s feelings. should they harbor ill-will, i rather hear it than having the truth stretched to their favor. which is why i grow a liking to your ‘ cold honesty ’, togami-kun — mine levels into consideration for a person’s feelings while saying the truth. there’s no need to be concerned … i am being honest with you.   ❜ for a togami heir who reigns in absolute solitude, he had concerns over her honesty. it was a test to provoke some kind of lies she harbored in the past. everything felt too persistent for unraveling those hidden chapters within her life. it’s fairly hard to recall every fragment of memory from one class of therapy. even now, there still lurks UNCERTAINTY SWIMMING AROUND HER HARDENED HEART to this day ———               it’s frightful.                   another sip was taken from her coffee, letting the bitter liquid quench her throat with ease. there lies no judgment behind one answer but the following question summons a faint chuckle to escape.

                  what a ‘ violent ’ means to enter a woman’s heart, a vague thought of hers surfaced. ❛   … hmhm, trying to hone my personal affairs togami-kun? i didn’t think you were the kind of man who was the romance type.   ❜

                  teasing tone vividly calls out the man who stands there practically unnerved; of course it wouldn’t affect him. naturally it was a primary instinct into retaliate someone’s desire to intrude her personal affairs. she can’t say it’ll be the final laugh of hers when figuring out a proper strategy. no one dares to question about these HIDDEN FEELINGS SHE RATHER NOT EXPOSE so blindly. call it her own means of protecting herself from utter humiliation. taunts and teases won’t be a problem as gloved fingers cared to brush lavender strands. let’s see if ‘ this sates his curiosity ’; faint mumble could have sworn into revealing. the cup of coffee managed to mute those intentions of provoking further uncertainty. even the lilac leader had no clue to what the heir thought about her   /   cold, sharp tongue made it difficult to communicate clearly   /. there’s no true lies behind the following confession she had in store for him. ❛   —— what if i said you were the one i have SECRET FEELINGS FOR, togami-kun? then again, you didn’t specify ‘ what type of feelings ’ they would be except being a secret. heh, i’ll leave it for you to decide on what they are if you like to know more.   ❜ dotes a friendly smile before taking another sip of her coffee:                what a terrifying woman.                       no remorse is held back until her mood drastically shifts to a tight clench around her bosom. the cup’s form is also gripped tightly, like an iron grip awaiting to shatter this glass. it’s settled down with gloved fingers resting against the detective’s lap drowning in absolute silence.

                  ❛   … is that even a real question you have to ask? we all understand better than anyone who the world is better off without, togami-kun. we know that far too well.   ❜ ENOSHIMA JUNKO; otherwise known to the world as the ultimate despair who influenced chaos and horrific ideals. that abnormality had no need to be breathed out the name —— she ‘ denies her existence ’ all together out of spite. the hatred running deep in these veins could measure in high pressure, waiting for it to explode. remaining composed became a challenge especially in front of someone who also carries a familiar grudge. they’ve been wrong … used as tools …             their family and pride damaged …                 hate never ran so deep. to think he could pop up this inquiry when it’s fully well-known; a world without the horrid woman walking among the living became one step closer to hope. at least, that’s how IT SHOULD BE … lilacs fixate on the heir, almost nodding in confirmation. speaking much about the matter will arise unwanted ‘ recalls ’ about those bloody trials. ❛   who i wished to treat differently, you say? well that depends. there may be plenty of people i could name on the spot when it comes to treating them differently. but if i had to specify one person, i suppose i would choose ——   ❜

                  their time together would be drawn to a closure, noting the empty cup resting against the table. she can’t say it was a struggle to bare with a laid back attitude. strangely put, there’s been some amount of fun when interacting like this with a formerly obnoxious heir. most reactions offered an unpredictable outcome to those features of his, almost unique in their own way. rarely leaving any kind of impression, there lies a stoic complexion as she rises from her seat. beckoning her way was the final question and she turns around, without redirecting a proper gaze. underneath those features lurks one smile he surely won’t be witnessing again. ❛   … you. thank you for the cup of coffee, togami-kun. it was pleasant to speak with you on these matters. goodbye.   ❜ with that, their discussion ended and the lilac leader returned to fulfill the remaining duties left at her office.   ///   @tcgami

[anotherlifefic]

Chapter 34: Unwilling Sisters-in-Arms

I awoke the next day feeling a lot better. The Kokiri were alive and well, considering the circumstances. Link was with me, and we had finally gotten a good night‘s sleep. For the first time since this mess began, I felt something akin to optimism. Link was already awake, propping himself up on his elbows. Next to our pile of leaves stood a Kokiri boy, holding two bowls with nuts and fruit in them. „I brought breakfast for both of you.“ „Thank you so much“, Link said kindly. „We really appreciate it.“ „You should thank Jenna. She was up really early gathering food for everyone.“ I looked over to Jenna‘s pile of leaves, where she sat and was having breakfast. Link and I took our bowls, and before I could to anything, Link snatched a piece of apple from my bowl and shoved it into his mouth. „Hey!“, I said with a giggle, but then I noticed his serious expression. In a hushed voice, he told me:„I wasn‘t trying to be cute. This was just a safety measure. To make sure that she didn‘t put anything into your food.“ „And what if she put something into your food?“, I replied, taking a piece of pear from his bowl and eating it before he could stop me. ��...hm, tastes fine, and I don‘t feel anything.“ He let out a long, drawn out sigh. „Please leave the food-testing to me in the future. During my travels, I often had to improvise when it came to food, so I have a strong stomach.“ We ate our breakfast, and once the bowls were empty, we set them down. „So… do you think that the shard of the Master Sword could be here in the temple?“, I asked, deeming this a good opportunity to discuss strategy. „I don‘t think so“, he replied. „And… there‘s something else bothering me. Don‘t you think things have been too easy thus far?“ „I‘ve mostly just been thankful for that.“ Link took his sword from its scabbard and began examining it for any wear and tear. „We can‘t rely on it going on like that. Cassandra may have promised to make it as easy as possible for us, but there‘s only so much she can do, now that Ganondorf knows what we‘re doing.“ I remained quiet for a moment. „Either way, we have to find the shard of the Master Sword. It has to be somewhere here in the forest.“ „Hmhm….“ Link was still examining and cleaning his sword. „In the forest… Maybe somewhere in the deeper part of the Lost Woods.“ „You think so?“ „I mean, it makes sense, doesn‘t it? Take it to a place that‘s so wide and open it would take forever to search for it. He views his servants as expendable anyway, so he could just have sent one or two of them to hide the shard in the woods, trusting that they would turn into Stalfos if they weren‘t Stalfos already, and let them act as the shard‘s guardians.“ At that point, Jenna got up from her pile of leaves and then walked over to us. „So, what‘s the plan?“ We both gave her an odd look. „Why do you want to know that?“ „Because I will help you, of course. I can fight, and three pairs of eyes see more than two.“ I bit my lower lip, trying to decide whether to welcome or reject her. She was right; we could use the help. Then I turned to my husband. „What do you think?“ „We should accept.“ Jenna‘s face lit up. „Oh, fantastic! You won‘t regret it, I swear! Hold on, I‘ll go grab my phoenix circles!“ „Phoenix circles?“, I muttered as she scrambled away.

When she returned a few minutes later, she was holding the probably gaudiest pair of weapons I had ever seen. They were circular blades, seemingly made of gold and encrusted with shining jewels. „By the Goddesses“, I mumbled, but said nothing else. Instead, I just grabbed my naginata. Link had finished taking care of his sword and sheathed it again. „Alright then. Let‘s go.“

The Kokiri bid us goodbye as we left, wishing us luck and begging us to bring peace back to the forest and then come back safely. Even Mido came up to Link, grabbed his wrist, looked him firmly in the eyes and said:„If you die, I will never forgive you.“ Link gave him a somewhat patronising pat on the head. „Hey, I saved your behind a lot of times already. This one won‘t be any different.“ We climbed down the vine in front of the temple and than made our way east, towards the border of Hyrule, deeper into the forest. Once we left the safe zone around the temple, Link took my hand again. „Hold onto me. Jenna, hold onto Rebecca.“ „But why?“, Jenna complained. „I‘m not some small child that needs her hand held! At least not by Rebecca!“ „Do you want to turn into a Stalfos, Jenna?“, Link asked somewhat aggressively. „Because that‘s how you turn into a Stalfos. Now take my wife‘s hand and stop complaining.“ Jenna pouted, but took my offered hand and followed us. „What if we have to fight?“ „I suppose it‘s okay to let go then“, Link said slowly, as if he had to consider his answer first. „And be careful. The magic of the Lost Woods gets stronger the deeper we get into it. Different realities overlap here. It‘s also where I found the portal to Termina.“ „Other realities?“, I asked. „Yes“, Jenna said in a soft, surprised voice. „Like that one?“ We looked over to where she was pointing, and there stood a huge farmhouse. It kind of reminded me of the main building back on LonLon Ranch. Except this house was bigger and had a white fence around it, with a stable, a barn, a coop and a pen for animals. The door opened, and out came Link. Or rather, something that looked like Link. If I had a rupee for every fake version of my husband I have seen on this journey thus far, I could buy a house like this, I thought dryly. And this one was more than obviously fake. He was even more idealized than the fake Link I had encountered in Ganondorf‘s childhood home. He was taller than my Link, and way more muscular, while still having his soft face. His eyes were so intensely blue that it almost hurt looking at them. Kind of like looking at the sun. And from behind him came four children; the first one a boy that looked like a younger version of him, then a brown-haired girl, then a set of twins, with the boy being blonde and the girl being brunette. And the fake Link was smiling at Jenna. „Jenna, my love! Where have you been? The children have been missing you!“ Jenna was almost in tears. „Oh Link, my love! I knew we would eventually find each other!“ She was about to let go of me, but I grabbed her wrist and yanked her over to me. „Jenna, don‘t be a fool! What you‘re seeing isn‘t your reality! He probably mistakes you for his reality's version of you!“ „But...“, she began. „No ‚but‘! Do you want to be lost forever and turn into a monster?!“ She was trembling, but with a lot of effort, managed to turn away from that fulfilled wish of hers. „Let‘s go.“ Link nodded and ran ahead, and we followed, with the desperate calls of the fake… no, the other Link wailing after us.

We only stopped when we absolutely couldn‘t keep that pace up anymore. We let go of each other; as long as we weren‘t on the move, there was no danger of getting lost. Link sat down on a fallen tree and Jenna sank to the ground quietly whimpering to herself. I sat down next to her, avoiding eye-contact. „I‘m proud of you, Jenna.“ She looked up with teary eyes. „H-huh?“ „What you did there. Turning away from a reality where all your dreams have come true. That must have been incredibly hard. But you did it, and I commend you for it.“ She sniffled. „Well.. you were right. That Link had his own Jenna, one that was probably pretty different from who I am, and just shared my face.“ She wiped her tears away with her sleeves. „Do you think that‘s what my children with Link would have looked like?“ I shrugged. „I guess. They looked similar enough to both of you.“ She was quiet for a moment, before proceeding:„Link Jr., Elyesia, Roan and Reena.“ „Huh?“ „That‘s what I would have named them.“ I took a deep breath. And then smiled at her. „...those are good names.“ Now she met my gaze. „I never asked what your son‘s name is.“ „Gareth. We… we named him Gareth.“ She chuckled, though still sounding choked. „...that‘s a good name, too.“ It was strange how watching her face her wishes and reject them in favor of the greater good had made me sympathetic towards her. For the first time since I met her, I actually felt fond of Jenna. Link had watched the exchange wordlessly, but now he got up. „We still have some daylight left. Let‘s continue.“

We continued onward, fighting our fair share of monsters on the way. Most of them being Dekus and Dekuranhas, but also stumbling upon one Moblin on the way. Gaudy as they were, Jenna absolutely knew how to use her phoenix circles effectively, and with her the help of her skills, Link‘s swordsmanship and my somewhat shaky abilities with the naginata, we made out way towards a big tree that seemed to be a good spot to set up camp. Link and I gathered up some dry wood, which Jenna then lit on fire with the help of a pair of flintstones she had been carrying with her. As we sat around the campfire, Jenna looked up at me an gave me a somewhat sly grin. „Soooo… are you two planning to have any more children?“ I looked over at Link, but he was already asleep, so I had to answer. „Why does it always come down to kids with you?“, I asked somewhat exasperated, but it was a fond kind of exasperation. „I don‘t know. Gareth wasn‘t exactly planned, but in the future, when things have gotten better, sure.“ „And?“ „And what?“ „How many? And do you already have names in mind for them?“ I stared into the flames until my eyes hurt. „We wanted to name a girl Carys. But beyond that… I‘ve honestly never thought about it. I usually stick to the saying ‚We cross that bridge when we get to it‘.“ „Aw, that‘s no fun.“ „Do you have the names of all of your future children planned out? I mean, beyond the four you have already told me?“ She grinned. „Of course! I have tons of names… too bad I lost my wagon to a group of Ganondorf‘s goons. I had a whole book with name ideas.“ „A whole book?“, I asked incredulously. „Just how many children do you plan to have?“ „As many as the Goddesses will give me.“ I thought about it some more. Thought about all of the romance novels I had read as a girl, searching in my memories for names I would like my children to have. „Perhaps Aiden for another boy… and Inessa for another girl“, I finally said. „But Link and I will need a bigger house if we want to have more than one child. Our house in the city only has space for one nursery, and I would like each of our children to have a room of their own.“ „Hmmm… yeah, that would be best“, she hummed thoughtfully and then yawned. „We should probably sleep as well. We will need all of our strength tomorrow.“ „True“, I said. „G‘Night, Jenna.“ I rested my head on the bedroll, but before I fell asleep, I opened my eyes one last time. „Oh, and Jenna?“ „Hmhm?“ „Thanks for the breakfast.“

[og-doubletrouble-kinnie]

A mem of me working- The subject was alive.. So it was interesting

Warnings of gore and death

"Ooohh... Hehehe You'll be my greatest work yet... Hmhm.." I run a hand over his chest, "Ah- But don't worry... I'll try not to kill you... Though that would be fairly difficult, right?"

I grab a knife, running its side over his stomach, "Have you ever seen your own organs before? I'm sure it must be fun... I never had the opportunity in my living years... And now it's to late- Ah well... I have you and other subjects... But you're the important one now~"

I turn the knife so its blade is pressing into skin, "Aanywayy.. I should stop rambling and get to work, no? Things.. May start to hurt~" I press the blade into him, slicing a neat line from the bottom of his chest, down to the edge of his pants.

I smile, watching beads of blood form across the new wound. I place the knife aside, "Ah- I just noticed... You never answered my question..." I rest my hands on his stomach, my thumbs running over the wound, "Have you ever seen your own organs?"

"N-no.. I have not-"

"Would you like to~?!" My thumbs hook his skin and pull, tearing the simple cut into a hole. Blood splatters across my face and I hear him hiss from the sudden pain. "Oh my apologies, was that a bit of a shock? Suppose I may want to give more warning? Hmm... But whats the fun in that, right?" I shove my hand into the cavity, easily sliding between bits of his intestines. I grab something and pull- Ah.. Just another piece of intestine... Boring but oh well. I continue pulling the intestines out, "Oh ho ho... Intestines are fairly boring... But aren't they pretty? In a strange way~"

I snip out the organ, tossing it to the organ table, "I'm sure you won't need that for a bit, right?"

"Um- What exactly.. Are you doing-?"

I hum, poking around at his remaining organs, "Observing... Testing your regenerative abilities... The usual..." I pull out another organ- His stomach I believe, I squish it in my hand for a bit before cutting it out, "It isn't to hard to infer my objectives, you shouldn't need to ask... You're fairly high in the class structure, Highest I've ever worked with anyway... I have no doubts of your intelligence."

"I dunno, science dude... I've met some higher ups who were pretty stupid..."

"Hmm- Well yes I suppose there are some exceptions... But there's so much knowledge to gain in this place... I'm almost glad I was sent here." I reach back into the cavity, pulling his liver... It's clearly damaged, "Hmm... You must drink often?"

"Ah- haha.. Yeah.. My favorite pass time 'round here" he brings his hand to his head, smiling toward me.

My brow raises as I give him a deadpan look, "Mmhmm... Despite your abilities, you have still managed to damage it?" I huff, tossing aside the liver, "I surely hope your lungs aren't as bad? I know drinking and smoking are common down here since death is much harder, but they still do quite a bit of damage."

He laughs, "Sorry man, 'm afraid they may be just as bad.. Not much ta do 'round here that aint killin"

I huff, "I wouldn't expect a mid high would have an issue with killing, you must have done it often while alive to be where you're at."

"Well yeah, sure... But shit gets boring after awhile... Only so many ways ta kill... Only so many interestin' kills in the first place"

"Hmm... I have yet to hit the flat line you seem to have... I can never get bored of the sound of breaking ribs~" I giggle lightly, "Speaking of ribs, do hold your breath~" he takes a breath, and I tear the hole larger, snapping his ribcage in two.

I tisk lightly, seeing his lungs, "Seems you were correct... You're lungs look horrid... If I'm remembering correctly, you're from the 80's, right?" I grab a blade.

"Yeah-?"

"Then do tell me-" I slam the blade into the empty space, just missing his spine, "HOW THE HELL HAVE YOU DAMAGED YOURSELF SO BADLY IN SUCH A SHORT TIME?!?! I'VE SEEN DEMONS FROM THE 1800'S WITH CLEANER ORGANS!!! THIS IS REDICULOUS!!!"

He jumps, "Woah woah- D-dude- Chill-"

"There is no reason to "chill" when someone with your physique and ability is wasting away despite being able to regenerate!!"

He gives me a confused look- Did I confuse him..?

"Why are you looking at me like that-"

"....Is that your fucked up way of hitting on me?"

.... "Excuse me?"

"Dude I'm pretty sure you just complimented me"

"... You're disgusting." I pull my blade out, "Do you really think I'd have interest in a lab rat?"

"U-uh..."

"You're nothing but a play thing. You mean nothing... Frankly you never meant anything. Oh sure I mention that you really should take care of your organs. And in doing so mention that you have a strong body. That in no way means I have interest in you, you wretch"

"Dude relax- Sorry- Guess I jumped to conclusions-" he looks away from me, and I hear him mumble within his head, "Shame.. You were cute, too-"

I growl, "I think I've grown tired of you... Shame, it's hard to find someone of your abilities"

"Wh-"

I lift my blade, "I know I said I'd try not to kill you but... It must be done for your... Horrendous behavior"

Before he can question me, I slam the blade down on his neck, nearly cutting his head off in one swing. I push the blade the rest of the way through before looking back at the demons face. It's stuck in a state of fear... Blood drips from his mouth. I huff, tossing my knife to its place on the tool cart, "It really is a shame... I was enjoying your company."

[cyrelia-j]

[ficlet] #10 Mad (Jack and Miles)

Continuing 30 Days of Jack. Had a bit of unusual inspiration on this one and I’m not sure how I feel about it but here goes. this one’s a little long but I couldn’t think of any satisfactory way to cut it down. (Made a few edits later this evening thanks to some suggestions!)

All of these are under the tag “30 days of jack”

Series note: These start out Jack/Sarina moving to Jack/Julian (as you can see lol). These aren’t always being posted in chronological order. For now the timeline is as follows: 1, 2, 7, 4, 8, 3, 5, 10, 9, 6, bonus #a

Warnings: none really except the usual Jack stream of consciousness

           “Did Bashir tell you to wear that hm?” Jack is holding the racquet tightly to his chest, clutching it hard so that he doesn’t keep trying to bit his thumb. He made a list of everything that he needs to change, all the things that stand out and that’s one of them. The second one is the tics in his voice that Bashir says don’t matter unless they’re bothering him except… except he knows they’re Wrong so he needs to correct them. He prays he doesn’t break the racquet because he can already tell that Miles O’Brien doesn’t like him and that’s another strike against him when he knows that this is his last chance and that if no one likes him he isn’t getting any more.

             That was… the Wrong thing to say, that engineer’s face screwing up unpleasantly. Jack had to ask because Bashir told him explicitly that there was a uniform for this except the uniform was tight and bright and Jack took one look at it and couldn’t wear it. He doesn’t feel comfortable in these clothes either, but at least they’re loose and warm. Miles is wearing the same thing and maybe Bashir was setting this up to make fun of him because Jack didn’t want to wear The Outfit? Alright that... doesn't seem to be the case.

             This was a bad idea. This entire match invitation was a bad idea and Jack doesn’t actually know why he’s here and it makes no sense. Jack is going  going to win. He already said that at dinner (Bashir made sure to tell him how Inappropriate that was) so why would O’Brien want to do this if he’s going to lose- if he’s going to be humiliated? Jack doesn’t want to humiliate him when he’s trying to get people to like him but- “You think you’re better than me?” was what was said when the subject had come up -silence to that from the Trill - and there was that Look from Bashir that he’d said the Wrong thing when he’d agreed, looking amongst all of them not sure why they were all looking at him like he was... not right.

             Quantifiably yes! Jack… couldn’t lie, could he? Was he supposed to lie? Was that the trap? Why would they want him to lie? I must not tell lies... It was the difference in tensile strength, muscle composition, bone density, neural pathways, processing, numbers, it was mathematics! It was the correct answer and he didn’t understand why three would be upset at being told it had a lower numerical value than five! Three wasn't a bad number, it was a perfectly serviceable number but it wasn't five!

             But here they are and here O’Brien is explaining the rules and Jack is nodding along yes, rules, structure. He’s practice swinging, trying to get a feel for it hop up, down, turn, pivot, crouch, energy, burning energy and the freedom of motion is nice and he can do this all day but he still doesn’t understand why they’re playing this, and why O’Brien even wants to play if he can’t even beat Bashir when Bashir is holding back?! “Pride goeth before destruction…” That’s Jack's old man, that’s Stolas, the crowned demon owl with his precious stones quoting scriptures like the devil.

             “Are you okay?” Jack hears O'Brien asking. He's staring, he's fixated as patrick would say and then say that staring is rude but it's only because he'd turned and saw Bashir in the stands staring down like that old owl when he was waiting for Jack to do something Wrong. Why are you here? Why don't you trust me? Why do you think I'm going to hurt people?!

           “Of course I’m okay,” Jack snaps immediately hearing Lauren’s voice in his head yelling “tone”. He glances quick at O’Brien checking his look, calculating right, that needs a “sorry”. “Sorry,” Jack chants by rote. There’s a sigh as O’Brien asks if he’s ready and is he supposed to say something and why won’t Bashir stop staring at him?! “Ready! Start, game, set, match.” Jack repeats snapping the racquet a few more times turning around, and he wonders if this is another Test.

 He wins.

 Over and over and it’s as easy as he expected and feels as terrible as he expected except-

“Why are you playing like that?” Jack asks suddenly stopping, the ball going past him.

“Well I’m sorry, we can’t all be-”

“You should be winning,” Jack says looking over at him speculatively. “Each time, every time, hands down.” Now that Jack thinks about it, O’Brien should be winning against Bashir, too. Is he teasing him? No, not a teasing expressing. Then... O'Brien really doesn't understand why he should be winning. But it’s simple- to Jack it is. It’s consistency, it’s muscle memory, it’s an iron giant taking the same measured steps steps step swing that cannot be less when it’s trying to be more. It’s angles and mathematics and patterns and things that O’Brien should be able to easily take advantage of- should know even better than any of them. Jack is winning because he's faster, because he can react and turn more effectively but... it's the same every time. He doesn't get tired nearly as easily so the numbers are always the same, they can be predicted. Same with Bashir- he can feign incompetence but he can't feign a stamina drop off that doesn't exist. Whatever numbers he starts with, that's where he'll finish.

 Jack blinks a few times then smiles wide, dropping the racquet because he has the Solution to the Problem and people like solutions!

“What are you talking about?” O’Brien asks, and Jack is about to tell him when he looks up at Bashir. Jack's eyes narrow - of course Bashir is suspicious of everything he does!- but he still smiles. Beating Bashir, making O'Brien into his Liza Doolitle. This… this could be fun actually actually. Jack keeps grinning, biting his finger - alright, back to 0 seconds without biting it- arms crossed as he sways back and forth on the balls of his feet. It’s the Martians dead amongst the red weed yes! 

“Slain, after all man’s devices had failed by the humblest things,” Jack mumbles with a short laugh before grabbing O’Brien’s arm enthusiastically. He doesn't think about it. He doesn't remember to be Careful and he catches sight of a wince, the memory of so many dreams, so many nightmares of everything he touches crumbling beneath his fingers making him nauseous. Jack immediately lets go.

“Christ, gonna break my arm too?” he hears low from O'Brien under his breath, the “not meant to be heard” low, and Jack doesn’t realize what culmination of perceived slights that O'Brien is adding up but- “No one wants to be reminded they’re less, Jack.” that echo in his head is from Sarina, from the rare and radiant maiden who the angels named Lenore. Oh. Right... that... that "better" thing.

 This… this is beyond “sorry” then...

 Jack takes a deep breath and lifts his finger, not knowing how to explain what he means, wishing Lauren was here to talk for him because there are Things like this that get stuck in his throat, and he could ramble around the rock without ever speaking of the rock because he can’t... can't say those words because his ribcage is shrinking- No! That's not satisfactory! He can parse those indexed words perfectly ordered in his mind, and find the right ones. They're not his, never his not originally but if he's the one speaking them then... then as far as Jack is concerned they are.

“I am he who knew what it was to be evil…” Jack begins, staring hard at the sweatshirt oddly identical to his own, “was wayward, vain, greedy, shallow, sly, cowardly, malignant…” his voice is tight but steady as he speaks, swallowing, mouth dry, the racquet under his arm held tight as his hand starts to shake. “You… you can do it any time hmhm, any time you can... m-make a..." Jack touches his two fingers together quickly to demonstrate before anxiously starting to bite his the left, dammit Language Jack!. “Whenever you want to forgive me you can tap it hmhm or not I don’t care . Forget it! I don’t need anyone to-” Stop it there shuttup, shuttup Jack!

 Silence.

 This was a Bad idea, he thinks, about to drop his hand when he feels a little smack, to that digit, followed by a sigh, and a roll of eyes from O’Brien.

“...Swear between you and him yer both gonna drive me to an early grave,” O’Brien says before leaning in, a look to Bashir first, something there that Jack missed earlier but- “So," O'Brien asks as Bashir... gets up to leave? "Are you gonna show me how to beat Mr. Genetically Enhanced there or not?”