As the elevator stopped on his floor Megelis looked up from the glass tablet he was carrying. It seemed Shard had skipped out on sparring in the morning so it was on to the next thing. Senechal more or less had the whole wedding settled down and was running down the details. “Can you pull the footage from auxillary room 36a?” The A.I. chimed in his ear. spying on Mistress Zalthrim are we? Megelis rolled his eyes at the A.I. for whatever reason Senechal had been programmed with attitude; Shard never seemed to have an A.I. but everyone else always seemed to have a story about how Senechal had sassed them or done something purposefully to the letter of the order causing it to not quite work out as intended. Archive and Sentinel never did anything like that but it was probably Shard’s fault for programming Senechal with more personality.

The footage in question appeared on his tablet as he stepped into the elevator not really noticing the occupants. It was a horror film. While Ris had always been picky she’d been a fit from the word go and Senechal had not made it better. Wincing as she threw the tablet at the A.I. he closed out of the footage. That was one thing he was going to have to fix today. Ever since Blackgate prison Ris had been giving him the cold shoulder. It was now very apparent she was pissed at him about something; given her explosive expletives with Senechal and the childlike tantrum.

Looking up it finally dawned on the Master of Blade that he wasn’t alone in the elevator. Taking in the mech pilot, Bunny, the rather eccentric mechanic Shard had taken on a while back, and the rather blank looking Hellspawn; Megelis cocked an eyebrow as he surveyed the odd group.

“Mornin”

The room was a disaster. It was one of the rooms that spotted the Tower with no real purpose other than to function as perhaps a meeting room of a quiet place to sit and think or work. Senechal could program the rooms for all manner of things from training to research. The current room was being used as a dressing room and it was quite clear things were not going well. Flopped on the table in the center of the room was the sole occupant. One of the glass tablets that were the norm for accessing the A.I.s that controlled the Tower as well as the data base for the Tower.

“Senechal come oooooon…” Ralrisk flopped onto her back and tapped the table a few times with her feet like an irritated teenage girl. “Seriously, we’ve tried like forty dresses. What the fuck.” Senechal sighed in exasperation as it stood with two dressed draped over its arms. Mistress, I’m not sure what exactly you are looking for.

Ralrisk rolled back onto her front and sighed defeatedly as she kicked her foot and pushed one of the discarded dresses off the top of the table into a heap on the floor. With a frustrated “uhg” Ralrisk burried her head in her arms. Perhaps I should call the Master of Blade to help?

“DONT YOU FUCKING DARE” Ralrisk flung the glass tablet at Senechal and it passed right through the A.I. bouncing off the wall before clattering to the floor. The look on her face was murderous as she glared at Senechal.

“Yo, Marrowblade sent me here to che--” The doorway now had a black-haired girl with a crop top and short shorts, her lips slightly parted and eyes widening more than usual at the sight of the violent scene. She paused for a moment before turning on her heel. “Well shit, I guess love has no boundaries, huh?” Marielle teased. “Should I come back later?”

Ralrisk whipped her head towards the door as she sat up on the table. Glaring daggers the shadows on the wall and floor seemed to wriggle and grow crawling towards the door. Finally figuring out that it wasn’t someone she felt like strangling Ralrisk flopped back on the table and let the shadows go back to normal. “What is it?” The Mistress of Shadow sigh heavily not caring what she or the room looked like at this point. Looking down she saw another dress was still on the table and she kicked it at Senechal. It passed through him the same as the table had before it struck the wall and crumpled on the ground.

Marielle turned back around and dug in her satchel, looking up as if it would help her focus before she pulled out a small glass sheet, holding it up. “I’m not a delivery bitch or anything, but have you gotten one of these thingies yet? Apparently you have yet to respond to the invitation and the wedding’s what, tomorrow?” Marielle looked at the date on the tech. “Tomorrow.” She grumbled under her breath as she stared down and attempted to organize her messy bag.

Sitting back up with a heavy Ralrisk scowled at Senechal again. “You TWAT! I told you I was going!...” She trailed off as she was bordering on tears. “What the hell?” The A.I. pulled up a guest list and tapped the Mistress of Shadow’s name changing it from yellow to a green. Your status has been undated. Is there anything else I can do for you? The dark haired woman shook her head and tucked her legs up under her chin. “Big help you’ve been; this was suppose to be fun but it’s just frustrating. You’re so not helpful.” Senechal didn’t given any sort of reaction My apologies Mistress. Perhaps I simply lack the skill to assist you in this. Popping her head back up Ralrisk scowled again and stuck her tongue out. “I swear Shard programmed you with attitude you ass.”

Marielle stared around at the room. “It looks like a ton of sweaty sumo wrestlers decided to have an orgy in this room.” She stared at Ralrisk blankly. “Were you asking the robot to help you get off or something? because your complexion looks pretty red and I can hear your breathing from all the way over here.” Marielle grinned in amusement with white teeth. “Sorry to rain on your parade but been there done that, not fun.”

Shooting Marielle a nasty look Ralrisk shifted her legs so she was sitting with her legs crossed. “Why are you such a bitch?” It was an insensitive question but at the same time it was a legitimate one. “I mean seriously, doesn’t it ever tire you out? Crow told me about how you decided to be a total ass to him for no reason. Do you get off on it or something?”

Marielle’s expression faded back to one that was blank, as if she were pondering the question like a philosophical one. “Call me whatever you want but I’m real. This is the whole package. I don’t do bullshit lady, so if you don’t like bitchy then don’t listen to it.” She scratched her head, looking up. “I wasn’t trying to be nasty to Crow, he was just being all creepy and shit looking at his dead collection like a child looks at toys. I guess I’m the same with my inventions though so I shouldn’t judge. I find it kinda funny that Raisin-face whined about it to you though.” Marielle inhaled slowly. It’d been a small while since she talked like this. It felt slightly alien going back to how she regularly conversed, like stretching muscles that haven’t been used in a while. Luckily for her though those muscles weren’t stiff.

Stifling a giggle Ralrisk smiled at Marielle. “He does kinda look like a raisin doesn’t he? I never thought about that. Although I don’t know why he wears that stupid Wyrdmask all the time. And yeah it is kinda creepy how he is always in the morgue. As for whining he wasn’t I asked him about women in his life. I should have known better than to think he’d understand what I meant. Did he really tell you to go play in the crematorium?” Propping her chin on her hands Ralrisk leaned towards Marielle as she sat on the top of the table.

Taken back from the girl’s response Marielle continued, leaning slightly against the wall. It was an old habit of hers, but it helped her think. “If he didn’t have on that mask I’d probably call him prettyboy, but who knows? I’m not racist against raisins so whatever.” She eyed Ralrisk, actually taking in her features before treading forward. “Look, I don’t gossip, but he did have a point. I tend to play with fire...probably a bit too much..” Her look was almost melancholy for a brief moment before fixing itself back to a pout. “I don’t want to eat dead people fire though, thank you very much.”

“Apparently he’s a super great bang if you can get him drunk enough.” Ralrisk raised her eyebrows twice in Marielle’s general direction. “And he is heeeeellla pretty when he doesn’t have that stupid mask on. But I wouldn’t know; it’s also ridiculously hard to get the fucker drunk. Stupid Elder Sidhe are no fun. It takes Eldrian Firewater to get him that drunk and that was the last time Kaela was here so she told me all about it after she got him in bed. Anyway. Did you really come all the way over here just to tell me about the wedding thing?” Ralrisk stretched like a cat as she climbed onto her knees and arched her back a few times.

Marielle grumbled. “Blondie also told me to help you out if you were having dress troubles, which…” She eyed Ralrisk’s room again before sighing. “Damn, that fucking pirate knows too much.” Yawning, Marielle threw down the satchel, which folded, then expanded into a suitcase. “She went off about how purple would look good on you or some shit.”

Ralrisk peered down at the suitcase. “Did you bring me a present?” She frowned. “Hey how does she know I was going to have trouble with a dress? That’s really irritating. Bad enough that Christian and Urthar constantly seem to be able to keep track of me.” Ralrisk narrowed her eyes. “I’m losing my edge.”

Marielle stared at her for a little while before beginning to unzip the suitcase. “Like I said I’m not a delivery bitch,” She frowned. “That doesn’t mean I don’t owe Marrowblade a few favors, though.” She thought about how nasty she was to her. Raven took her in and Marielle shut her out. The girl shook her head. “Don’t be offended by the fact that the woman brought you some dresses, she’s just easily amused. She probably guessed from your personality that you might need some extra shit to try on.” Marielle inhaled, realizing that the only edge she had to her abilities was her anger. The realization made her unsettlingly sad.

Ralrisk gave Marielle a dirty look. “The fuck is that suppose to mean? Are you saying I’m high maintenance?” Ralrisk pouted until she saw the dresses. “See this Senechal! Christian is marrying someone with a sense of fashion. Unlike you!” Senechal remained silent through the verbal abuse as Ralrisk turned back. “Sorry, I’ve been having a rough week. Not skin blisteringly rough but rough enough that I’ve turned poor Senechal into my personal bitch.” Picking up one of the dresses Ralrisk held it up before she looked around it at Marielle. “Is it super cliche that I’m the mistress of Shadow and purple is sort of my thing?”

Marielle shook her head to not only answer Ralrisk’s question but her grimy mood as well. “Nah. I’m a stone cold bitch but you don’t see me avoiding the color black.” She crossed her arms. “As for the whole high maintenance thing, it’s cute. Likeable to the right people. I don’t know if it’s you, since I don’t know you, but it’s definitely entertaining.” She froze, realizing her poor manners. Out of character, Marielle stood a little more upright. “I’m Marielle Spade, by the way. Sorry but I seem to forget the whole introductory shit people throw at each other.” She rolled her eyes at the annoying thought of people being polite and putting on a mask for the sake of introducing themselves.

Ralrisk sighed and flopped the dress. “No kidding. I swear the men around here are dumb as fuck.” Folding the first dress she set it on the table and picked up another and held it up looking at it before folding it and setting it on the table as well. “I’m Ralrisk Zalthrim, second heir to the Throne of Shadows, Mistress of Shadow, Blade of the Darkness, blah blah fucking blah.” Picking up a third dress she held it up to her chest she raised an eyebrow. “Thoughts?”

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Marielle eyed it before smiling genuinely, a rare look on the girl. “Hold your arms up for me please.”

Ralrisk handed Marielle the dress and held up her arms. “I hope this turns out better than the others or I might just have to go find someone real to punch. It’s not too princess right? Cause I have no problem with going for something more risque.” Ralrisk waited patiently for Marielle to finish her assessment.

Marielle’s memory flashed back to when she was helping a circus performer, one of her companions, into a dress before one of their shows started. Her expression changed to a gloomy one before she dug into her card box and pulled out a 2 of diamonds. She flicked the card on the sides of the dress a little before letting the purple fabric leave her fingertips, making the dress suspend in the air. The girl whispered some unintelligible words before flicking the card into the air as she snapped once. Suddenly the dress was on Ralrisk, a little ragged but fitting her perfectly, according to the knowledge of the card. Marielle walked up to her and adjusted the front of it a little before stepping back, finger and thumb to her chin. “Well, as the saying goes, the five thousandth one is the charm.” With that she winked, some of her performer’s charm popping out of her from the sweet taste of her will. Using her diamond cards always felt uplifting.

Ralrisk spun once and checked the way the dress fell on her. “Probably needs to be adjusted; that and Akime and I have to go find matching dresses since we’re bridesmaids.” With a twist of her lips she looked down over the dress again. “Senechal, board.” The A.I. held up a simple wooden board. With a fluid movement Ralrisk snapped her right leg out from underneath the dress and it split the board cleanly in two pieces which clattered to the floor. “Sweet.” Ralrisk held the pose with her leg still extended for a moment. “I think this is the one.”

Marielle yawned sleepily. “Good. I guess my favor is fulfilled. Cya….” Marielle started to head out the door before the world spun in her eyes and it twisted into black, causing her body to roughly fall to the floor.

Ralrisk caught Marielle right before her head bounced off the ground. “Damn it, what the hell.” With a heave Ralrisk picked up Marielle and looked at Senechal. “Let the med bay know I’ve got a patient. With that Ralrisk hiked up her the dress and ran with Marielle to the med bay.

Once his thoroughly unwelcome guest departed, Levi sighed in a mixture of contempt and relief. The puffed-up old worm had come, said his piece, congratulated him self a bit on being so great, and left without ever coming close to understanding Levi's work or his intentions. He felt the old Master peer through Strange Aeon, perhaps looking into its inner workings, but he had the feeling that the old fool had no idea what he was actually looking at. Such was the way of most of the doddering sycophants that dominated the Tower's hierarchy. Perhaps once they had been intuitive and progressive, but now the most they could manage was to look down their noses at anything that could threaten their political station. Breathing out a last puff of smoke, Levi snuffed his cigarette out on the bit of glass that Urthar had left behind.

Donning his spectacles, Levi temporarily revoked the complex illusion disguising the secret chamber of his laboratory. An advanced application of NICTOCRIS illusion program, the chamber and its entrance were hidden under so many layers of subtle illusion that they simulated enough layers of reality to convince the reality surrounding the illusion of that it was real. The old worm had walked right past the door and not even noticed.

The chamber was mostly bare, save for a large and complex machine dominating one much of the far wall. It resembled some sort of arcane distillery, with many funnels and chambers leading to a single point wherein the processed material was expelled. In a transparent chamber, stored at a hypothetical temperature of negative absolute zero, spell-based manipulates gradually shaped and sculpted a crystal, atomic layer by atomic layer. The crystal was no larger than a golf ball at this point, and had a lumpy, irregular shape. However, its color was that of the darkest abyss; as though a piece of the sky between the stars had fallen to earth. Even in its incomplete form and behind many wards, the crystal radiated power and malevolence. This was Levi's answer to the true blockage in his path to creating the a god; the Divine Spark. The machine took the remnants of the DNA of the Aberrant Gods themselves from Levi's blood, and purified and concentrated them into a single core. This was yet another facet of what was to be Levi's Magnum Opus. He had code-named it TRAPEZOHEDRON.

The Magus checked the machine's status and automated system reports; all nominal. Luckily the power surge had not affected this device, which ran on its own miniature derivative of COR LEONIS. This was good; if the containment systems for TRAPEZOHEDRON had failed, he would not have been able to disguise its presence from the sensitive mages of the Tower regardless of how many illusions he put over it. This was his ultimate blasphemy, and one he knew they would not tolerate. Even the machine that crafted the artificial spark was heretical, as it was based on advanced necromantic theories he had learned under the tutelidge of the Anticross. These magical theories allowed them to create their own false god using the corpse of an Outsider; no one in the Tower knew that Levi had knowledge of such magics, and he was determined for it to remain that way. STRANGE AEON was something of a red herring to disguise the presence of this device of elemental evil, as sixty-meter-tall adamantium colossi happened to be rather distracting.

Deciding that all was well with his true secret project, Levi departed the hidden chamber and carefully restored its complex wards and illusions. Now then, he had to get back to work. With GRIMOIRE, he summoned his lab assistant and familiar, NECHRONICA. With a glimmer of spell code and light, Necro appeared, taking her usual form as a silver-haired girl in a frilly, white dress. She landed on the floor as though falling from where GRIMOIRE's interface floated above Levi's hand, and spun on her toe to greet her master and creator.

"What do you want, Nero?" She asked, impetuously, "If you're summoning me and you're not either getting your ass kicked or about to blow yourself up, I know you have some menial labor you want me to do."

Well used to Necro's bratty attitude, Levi barely looked at her as he calculated specifications on GRIMOIRE. "Right you are, my Promethean progeny." He gestured with GRIMOIRE, displaying the finished specifications to the digital girl. "I need you to run to the fabricator and put in an order for these parts." With the upgraded processors he had just whipped up, his calculating spell engine should be able to handle his recently-discovered paradox code.

Data briefly flashed over Necro's eyes as she downloaded the specs to her random access memory. "Got it." Her green eyes darted to the ash-covered shard of glass lying on Levi's workbench. "Ooh, what's this?" She skipped over and brushed the ashes away to examine it. "Urthar left this? What do you think it is, a love letter?"

Levi snorted. "I hope not."

"Oh, a wedding! How sweet!" Necro feigned a romantic pose, likely something she saw in an old movie. "You organics are always dreaming up complicated rituals to formalize your disgusting copulation practices. We can't miss this."

"We?" Levi repeated, incredulous.

"Yes, 'we,' you simian. Have your deteriorating sensory organs finally failed you? You can't go to a wedding alone, and considering that no organic female with a functioning sense of smell would be willing to bear your presence, I'm your only option for a date. Pretty sad, if you ask me."

"I'm sure I didn't." Levi mumbled, and then groaned as he cradled his head. He really didn't want to go to this ridiculous publicity stunt, but he supposed he didn't have a choice. The Grand Master sanctioned Levi's activities (the ones he knew about, anyway), and it would not serve him to treat the man with disrespect. "Fine, fine. We'll go."

Necro whooped with joy, even kicking her legs up in excitement. "Oh, this will be so interesting! I can't wait to see the Masters get drunk and make fools of themselves. Just think of the blackmail material." Levi was already regretting this decision. "Oh, but you don't have anything to wear. I can barely stand being seen with you as it is; I won't tolerate you wearing your scrubby clothes to this wedding."

Levi groaned. "Very well. After you place the order for those parts, go into town and buy me a suit. You know my measurements, don't you?"

Necro seemed almost offended. "I spent a weekend decoding your genome for fun. Yes, I know your measurements."

The Magus waved her off, turning to walk back into his workshop. "Good, then. Pick out a dress for yourself as well. Don't buy it, just modify your avatar as needed to emulate it."

"Oh, thanks for your permission to not have to look like the child-wife of a deranged recluse. Really needed it." Necro muttered sarcastically. "Cheapskate." She exited Levi's lab, leaving him alone in peace and quiet.

Those parts would not be ready for another few days, and Levi apparently now had plans coming up. That meant that the STRANGE AEON project would have to be put on hold. In the meantime, just to keep him from getting bored, he decided to tinker with one of his other incomplete projects. Looking over various collections of scrap and half-assembled machinery, Levi eventually settled on a device that looked mostly finished. A sleek, black two-handed gun designed to be carried in an under-slung posture. It was the antimagic cannon, DIG ME NO GRAVE. A remarkable achievement, condensing highly-complex antimagic field generators into a man-portable device. The issue was that much of the technology had to be compressed into a smaller frame, dramatically increasing the gun's density. As such, it weighed several thousand pounds. Levi looked down at the gun from where it had bent and warped the steel table it rested on. He exhaled sharply, cracked his knuckles, and got down to work.

“I figured we’d start the day off by buying out a business or two.” Adéla grinned, gesturing to the huge and obnoxiously colored building in front of them with a huge stylized bowl of what looked like some sort of stiry fry above the door. “Since what could be more fun than throwing an abusive CEO out on his ass?” She grinned, flashing a credstick, “Really, we could set up a nice little moneymaking operation for ourselves down here.” Beginning her walk towards the building she looked back, “The guy who owns this chain likes to give his employees half shifts and then use that as an excuse not to pay them full time, et-cetera. Its headquarters, which we’re at, has an excellent fusion buffet - though to be fair so do the rest of them. This one is the best though.”

“Is robbing the man after the acquisition is done out of the question? Doesn’t seem to be any point in rewarding him for his bad behavior.” Calder said rather nonchalantly as he followed Adéla towards the rather gaudy store. Calder wasn’t exactly what you’d call a great defender of the weak and poor, but violation a contract is serious business with a fae, and fae born. So crushing a man who violated contracts on whim, was a natural reaction for Calder, he didn’t even realize that here doing so had legal ramifications that were unique to the mortal realm. Calder decided to follow Adéla’s lead on this bit, since she knew more about the town and it’s workings, and the business in question, than he did.

“Well, we can’t rob him. But I am considering forcing him into a minimum wage entry level position, with specific provisions in place to prevent him getting a raise, and forcing him to work the same halftime shifts. See how he likes that.” Adéla tossed the credstick in the air, catching it by one end each time, a grin of pure condensed malevolence on her face.

Sweeping her coat over the hand cannon tucked into her belt, she strode into the building like she owned it - which, in all likelihood, she soon would. Heading for an elevator, she punched in the numbers she’d looked up in the car, taking them straight to the office of the franchise’s CEO. “Scumsucking asshole floor!” She announced brightly, walking for the door that lead to the man’s office. “Anything you need to say before we turn this guy’s world upside down?” She asked, looking up at Calder.

“There might be a small hitch in your plan. How will pay this man for his business, and then force him into such a demeaning position?” Won’t he simply … what is the word… retire? I like my plan better. Why won’t my plan work? It would make yours easier to pull off, and we could reinvest the money into our new establishment, so what’s the issue?” Calder was having difficulty seeing this from the mortal angle, he’d been in the fae courts for far too much of his life to break the thought patterns easily, and business meant very different things on opposing sides of the mirror. For Calder this was a straight forward take over, you took what you wanted from who you wanted. You started nice enough to keep them from fighting back or damaging the goods you desired, then you move them out of the way, permanently if possible, so that your new assets could thrive and bring in secure profits.

“Well, mainly out of a sense of poetic justice. Forcing the guy to work the same hellish hours for practically nothing like he did all his employees - it’s so perfect. Honestly I would be all in favor of robbing him, but that would cause some issues with law enforcement.” She patted the hand cannon on her hip, “Worst comes to worst however, I’ve got decades of experience in faking crime scenes.” Folding her coat back over it, she put a hand on the door handle, “Anything else?”

Calder thought for a moment, wondering if he’d missed anything. It was rather likely, this being a spur of the moment ideal. He shrugged his massive shoulders and shook his head. “I can not think of nothing more. Let us begin our industrial empire, with this small gesture. I’ll let you handle the niceties.” Calder took a deep breath and set himself up for a good time. Here he’d watch and learn, with the next company he’d take a more active role in its acquisition.

Adéla nodded, turning the handle on the door and marching briskly into the room. “Mr. Cameron. Say hello to the future owners of your business, your estate, and the clothes on your back. My name is Adéla, this is Calder. I don’t know if you’ve received a notification yet, but I just purchased seventy percent of available stocks for your company, and I’m here to ‘discuss terms’ for the remaining thirty percent. Any last words before you have a tragic accident?” She flashed him a winning smile, “Don’t bother calling for security. It won’t do any good.”

Calder stepped in behind Adéla, and closed the door quietly, before taking the slight precaution of dampening any escaping sounds by frosting the door and its frame, sealing the room, and creating a small but potent buffer to distort sounds, coming or going. Then he turned as he was introduced and grinned menacingly, or was it brightly? It’d probably look about the same honestly. He said nothing, but was ready to deny the man a means of escape, should that prove necessary.

Adéla didn’t really need Calder as backup, but he certainly helped with the intimidation factor. “So here’s how this is going to work. We buy your company. You retire and live to a ripe old age with the insane amount of money you’ve ripped out of your employees’ hands.” She grinned at him, malevolent fire burning in her eyes. Pushing a piece of paper she produced from a coat towards him, she pulled a pen from an ornate mug full of them, clicking it open and laying it gently on the form. “If you would be so kind?”

The man stared at her wide eyed, looking between her and Calder. His eyes seemed to regain focus as she pushed the form towards him, and he scoffed, fixing her with a contemptuous glare. “And who the fuck are you, bitch?”

Adéla smirked, caressing his face with a soft hand, “Don’t you remember? I’m one of the future owners of your business, your estate, and the clothes on your back!” She pulled the credstick from her pocket, laying it gently on the table as she pushed the paper form at him again. “Check it and see. I think you’ll find that while it may be a bit of a low bid, I make a very… tempting bargain.” With practiced ease she leaned forward, letting her loose shirt open up slightly to give the man a rather… appreciable view, while at the same time letting her coat fall off to the side to reveal the grip of the miniature howitzer on her hip.

Cameron looked down at the credstick and his face contorted in rage - right up until he looked back up and his eyes widened. Gulping, he looked between the titillating view he was suddenly provided with and the portable artillery on the hip of the very same woman. Cleavage, potential doom - cleavage… but also potential doom.

Adéla had to hold back a snicker at the man’s unsure reaction. It was obvious he’d never been confronted with a situation like this - used to getting his way whenever he wanted and never being on the receiving ends of some demands. When she confronted him with some, he apparently had no idea how to react. It was rather adorable really - or, would’ve been if the man wasn’t a price gouging ass who stole his employees’ pay.

She put an arm around his neck, drawing ever closer to the flustered CEO. He seemed paralyzed, which suited her just fine as she walked behind him, slipping a small syringe from a pouch on the interior of one of her pockets, pushing the almost invisibly thin needle into Cameron’s neck and injecting its contents in a snap second before slipping it back into its pouch in one smooth motion.

It took a few moments for the drug to take effect, and she walked around the spacious office, audibly admiring the aesthetics. For some reason she lingered by the window, stroking the sides of it… surprisingly methodically. By the time she had finished however, Cameron was as docile as a lamb. “Now,” she cooed, sashaying back over to the desk, “would you kindly sign this form?” Adéla’s eyes sparkled with malevolent delight as Cameron complied, blinking sleepily as he smiled at her.

“Anything else?” He asked, again blinking in a drugged stupor.

“Yes actually, just one more form…” She produced a second piece of paper, laying it triumphantly in front of him. “I just need you to sign this, and I’ll be very happy.” She winked at him, and the man promptly seized the pen on the table, jotting down his name and sealing his fate.

“Now…” her voice instantly lowered to a husky, seductive whisper. “Come over here, I feel… frisky~” She led him over to the window, swaying her hips as she let her coat fall to the floor. The drugged man eagerly followed her, a grin breaking out on his face as she caressed his chin, drawing his lips closer to hers as she cradled the back of his head…

And pushed him into the window. Instead of holding like it should’ve, the piece of pane glass wobbled and broke free of its mounting, plummeting several stories down to the cold, hard ground below and taking the former CEO with it.

Scooping up her coat and bundling the papers she’d had Cameron sign into a spacious pouch sewn into the interior she rushed past Calder, “Time to go. Don’t worry about the cameras,” she pulled a small device from another pocket, “electromagnetic interference, they’ll get nothing but static. And we in turn will get his company, and since he has no genetic heirs plus some poor wording in his will, we’ll be getting his entire estate as well.” She grinned, “Remember how I said we wouldn’t be robbing him? Well, it isn’t robbing if it’s all legal and you’re technically inheriting something, now is it?”

Calder watched the proceeding events, with particular interest, though he’d have some issue applying the lesson in subversion personally, there were other ways to apply today’s lesson. As the man fell from the room, he flicked his left hand and any mark left by the syringe, small as it was, vanished with the simple and very basic healing spell. That was the only action he took in the entire episode, aside from performing a smart about face, removing the icy layer over the door, and following his partner in business, the sinister, or was it eager, smile still on his face. As they left the building, Calder stopped a moment to consider the events in their totality. “You would like my mother I think. Where to next, my ever so enticing partner?”

“Oh, that's a question I've been thinking over right after I decided on this place.” She cackled, walking back to the car. "This should be fun."

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Once Bunny’s grey eyes caught sight of the handsome Master of Blades, she immediately snapped to attention. Like the professional soldier she was, a hand went respectfully to her forehead, saluting the quite important Megelis Altoris. Though he did not acknowledge the group at first, presumably engaged in important business on the tablet he was watching, Bunny remained as steady as a mountain next to Gibraltar. This was an interesting quirk of hers that wasn’t expected from her peers, something that still endured from years as a child soldier.

”Good morning, Master Altoris! Paladin Bunny AKA Operative Deadlock at your service, Sir!” she spoke firmly and concisely, the cadence of a seasoned veteran clearly heard in her voice. She didn’t move a muscle and wouldn’t until her superior told her to be at ease. Silently, she prayed the Master hadn’t heard her inferring about her and Izual’s love life. That would just be embarrassing...

Her eyes flickered over to Izual though, who was doing as she ordered him to do previously. Grumbling, his sword was back in its sheathe. Strangely, the sclera of his eyes were a sickly yellowish-brown. ”Okay, fine. Guess I’ll just have to crush that bastard then…”” Izual muttered. His leg moved slowly across the metallic floor until it met Lethal’s foot. He gently pressed down on her boot and quickly determined she was no robot. ”Person…”

He began walking blindly to the left, arms outstretched. ”Come on, little buddy. I’ll make this quick, I promise.” he called out, daring that abominable, tiny robot to try and go against him.

”Sir, permission to disable target friendly requested. Friendly is clearly in need of medical treatment.” Bunny once again called out methodically. Perhaps bringing the Knight back to consciousness had not been the best idea in this situation? Then again, who knew this would have happened?

Megelis turned around and raised an eyebrow as he looked at Bunny and then at Izual. “At ease Paladin.” The command was something odd coming from Megelis as it sounded natural but rusty. Almost as though he didn’t use the phrase as much as he might have in the past. “What is wrong with Izual?” Reaching out he gently helped Bunny put her hand down. “Lets not disable the friendly quite yet. What the hell happened?”

Putting his left hand on his one of the two swords on his hips he tilted his head looking at Izual. “Did someone hex him or something?”

Leaning against the metal wall of the elevator, hands still shoved in her pocket, Lethal observed the scene play out. The annoyance in her grew when the hellspawn rubbed his foot against her’s. If it wasn’t for the Master of Blades being present, Izual may very well be more than just temporarily blind right now. The smoke from her cigarette and her robot’s tank gradually streamed into the air. Listening to her superior, the expressionless mechanic stared at the door and muttered with the cancer stick between her lips, ”He touched something that doesn’t belong to him.” Pulling her right hand out of her pocket, she gestured at the robot hiding behind her letting out a mechanical hiss at the man that so abruptly touched him.

Mocking the Paladin, the apathetic woman halfheartedly saluted Megelis to give her ‘respects’. It’s not like she didn’t care about her superiors (though, her care for many people was limited), it’s just... In this moment, surrounded by all these draining individuals made her less likely able to socialize. By now, the Masters and Mistresses had an idea of how Lethal presented herself, never sugarcoating her actions.

”Master Megelis,” a closed fist impacted into Gibraltar’s chest before he eased himself. ”Lethal and I were just about to check in for the wedding preparations, Paladin Bunny and Knight Starslayer were an unexpected occurrence in our workshop. The Hellspawn is fine though, if not a little...shaken up.”

”SHAKEN UP?!” Izual roared while feeling the elevator’s wall. ”I’m blind! That robot shot lasers into my eyes!”

Gibraltar raised a hand to Izual, ”Ignore him, he’s being overdramatic.”

Quirking an eyebrow in intrigue, Lethal thought outloud, ”That’s not a bad idea.”

Watching the scene unfold, Bunny pursed her lips together but didn’t make a move. The Master of Blades had given her an order to stand down for now. Izual, on the other hand, was absolutely seething. ”Okay, that’s it, tin can. I’m about to kick your ass into next year.” the Hellspawn growled, only to trip over his own two feet. Muttering incoherent curses, he picked himself back up. ”I might be blind, but I’m still more than a challenge, damn it!” With reckless abandon, he kicked wildly into the air, hitting absolutely nothing.

Megelis was half tempted to catch the kick as he rocked about three quarters of an inch to the left to avoid it. “Ooookay. I can see everyone is having an interesting morning.” Catching Izual’s shoulder he prevented him from moving back towards Lethal. “You know we should probably get you looked at.” Megelis sniffed at Izual.

Turning to the rest of the group he raised an eyebrow. “Why does he smell like he’s been singed?”

”He had to be...resuscitated... “ Gibraltar stated reluctantly.

Bunny’s eyes went wide when the Master asked about Izual’s scent. Shit. She was definitely going to hear from it him now. But she was no liar, so she steeled herself to answer honestly and face whatever consequences that beset her. That was the soldier she was. ”Sir, he had to be resuscitated because…”

Girbraltar raised a hand to the Paladin, ”Because he was...testing a new invention of ours.”

With narrowed eyes, her head tilted at the cyborg but no words escaped the mechanic’s lips.

Megelis twitch his eyebrow again looking from one member of the group to the next; sensing he was missing some crucial detail about the whole situation. “And what exactly were you testing that caused his heart to stop? And why would anyone volunteer to test something with that side effect.” Megelis shot Izual a rather odd look.

Izual was totally confused. Bunny had told him that he she had shot him, and now the cyborg was saying that he had tested some invention. ”Uh… I don’t recall volunteering for anything. Bunny only told me she shot me because I…”

”Of course you wouldn’t remember, it was a powerful tranquilizer we were testing, it may have...affected his memories somewhat….he really should be looked at….” Gibraltar was really freeballing this, but he did say he wouldn’t report such an incident to the higher ups.

Lethal’s red eye began to twitch. This fucking guy…

“You shot him?!” Megelis gave Bunny a half appraising half shocked look. Looking back at Izual. “Why did he agree to test a firearm delivered Tranquilizer?” This was growing stranger and stranger by the moment as he looked from one to the next and finally landed on Lethal. The look she had on her face was disconcerting to say the least. She’d always been something of a mystery to Megelis as he rarely made the trip down to her workshop and now was a perfect example of why he didn’t all that often.

”He did claim he could handle the tranquilizer, we never suspected it would stop his heart.” He looked to Izual, ”After all, he did boast very highly of his endurance and superiority. It was a mistake on my part, sir.”

Bunny was being shut down by Gibraltar, interrupted again and again every time she tried to give the Master the truth. ”Sir, this is all a lie! I shot Izual on my own accord! He… didn’t take me out to breakfast… It’s… Complicated.” she finally admitted, a rosy tint appearing on her cheeks. This had gotten more convoluted than she had expected it to be, and she really didn't want to have her personal business out on a plate right now.

Why was this elevator ride so long? Lethal just wanted to get out of this hellhole. She was surrounded by dimwits… except the Master of Blades, who walked in at a terrible time and was completely dumbfounded at the situation. The mechanic started puffing out her smoke more out of pure irritation, filling the small confined area with toxins, not bothering to consider those around her. The red recording light on ROB’s forehead was blinking as it deviously recorded the scene to use for it’s own purposes.

Megelis’ jaw dropped as he looked at Bunny. “You’re joking.” As he studied her red cheeks it dawned on him that the Paladin was, in fact, not joking. “Well shit….” Looking at Izual he raised an eyebrow. “I can’t tell if you deserved it or if Bunny is just crazy.” Looking back at Bunny he raised an eyebrow again. “How far away were you?”

Bunny was frozen under Megelis’ stare, embarrassed at the scenario she had caused. Silently cursing her actions, she recalled the exact distance that she’d shot Izual from. ”It was from my apartment balcony, sir. He was a quarter of a mile away. There were no others in the way, so it was a clear shot, sir.” she explained honestly, as still as she had been since the Master had strode into the elevator. The woman dared not to lie to her superiors.

Izual shrugged at the situation. He didn’t particularly care about being shot since he was fine, but his heart was still set on destroying that damned robot. ”I’m not really bothered by all of this. I just want my sight back.” he uttered, tapping his foot against the metallic floor with his arms laced together.

Megelis snorted. “Routine shot, I’d have been impressed if it was crowded and from further out.” Turning back to Izual he nodded and then stopped himself realizing the Knight couldn’t see. “I’d assume that to be the case. Lets drop you off in the med bay. Seems like they have had their hands full quite a bit lately. What with our newest Knight and all the commotion with Marielle. I’m almost afraid what things will be like if we go back to waging any kind of war around here if this is how dangerous it is to be a Knight without any open conflicts”

While the Master of Blades was distracted, the mechanic pulled out of her repair tool belt a ripped piece of paper and an old writing utensil. Within seconds, she scribbled something and quietly slipped it in Izual’s pouch for him to read later.

The green haired sniper noted the Master of Blades’ words, vowing to make the next time a more wowing spectacle. She was surprised to hear that he was challenging her rather than scolding her for shooting the poor Knight. However, Izual was bound to make more mistakes with how dense he was, so she supposed it wouldn’t hurt to make him her target practice from now on. ”Sir, I won’t disappoint you next time. I promise.”

Gibraltar was...confused, yet somehow...satisfied that Megelis was so forthcoming with his responses, ”Sir...this may be..rudimentary...but can we consider this incident of friendly fire off the record?” He had to be certain of this.

In response to the cyborg, Megelis let out a laugh before responding with a curt "Yes. Of course."

Finally, the trip to the medical bay had ended and the elevator door slid open. After the Master of Blades gave his answer, everyone besides Lethal and ROB left the elevator. The door closed not giving anyone a chance to turn back.

Ludelle leaned back in the leather chair, staring at the computer screen a moment longer before getting up. She yawned and stretched her aching muscles slowly, feeling each one strain and expand with what seemed like a faint cracking. She took her time to get all muscle groups back to a proper upright position. The calves, thighs, butt… then the arms, wrists, fingers, shoulders, neck…. Hacking was exciting for the mind but taxing for the body and nobody knew that better than her.

She felt like she’d spent the whole past week sat in that chair and that wasn’t far from the truth. Ever since her first shower, she’d been like possessed by the need to break into the Stygian database and see what they had on her, why they’d betrayed her and if they’d tracked her down already. At first she was scared. Fear was a strong drive and the fact that Adela was here with her, and the fact that Sirius was around and the fact that a huge lizard was keeping a very close eye on her while others tried to deceive her into trusting them kept her constantly on edge. But then that fear evaporated. It wasn’t slow, it was sudden. Just like that it vanished. Or maybe it was burnt down. For as soon as her hands landed on a computer again she was complete again and her fear turned to fuel for her anger. And that burnt very, very brightly. Her distrust was also quickly melting away, largely thanks to the troll who introduced himself as “Calder”. He’d helped her get a little revenge on the man who’d tortured her most at Southgate and that revenge had tasted good. She had a feeling she wasn’t going to forget it anytime soon.

But there was always another night. As this one had drawn to an end, so had her alarm clock reminded her it’s time to get up. Not from sleeping – she hadn’t done that in a while and was sure people could tell – but from the net. It was time to attend to more local matters. Like this event that was coming up – what was it again? Her aching but once again mobile hand reached out to take the white card near the keyboard. A wedding, her eyes informed. Hm. She’d never been to a wedding before. It was beyond her why she was even invited considering she had no clue who was getting married and to whom.

She threw the card back to the desk when someone knocked at the door and invited them in. There was no need to get dressed – she’d never undressed in the first place. Same loose shirt as yesterday, same shorts and flats. Nothing dashing but with her figure anything looked oddly attractive.

The visitor turned out to be Calder. No surprise as there were few who’d gotten to talk to her in the past week and only one who was allowed in her room. As per usual he was bringing her breakfast - possibly the only reason she had survived this long.

“Just as well as any other night.” She smiled one of her rare smiles, running a hand through her hair as if she was smoothing it out. The monitor was off so the only clue would be in the dark circles under her eyes. The light emitted by her electrically charged body made them stand out even more but that didn’t seem to concern her. “Thank you for breakfast. I promise that I’ll start going out of my room this week.” She pinched a small croissant and popped it in her mouth, pacing around the coffee table to work off the stiffness from the night. “You’ve been very helpful in the past week and I’m grateful for that. I have one last request for you.. Could you please tell me what you do when you get a wedding invitation? The net says a lot of conflicting things and I have no idea which site to trust.”

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On a branch of a large oak tree, an 'adolescent' girl named Reena sat in peaceful bliss, swaying her legs. She wore a red velvet hooded half-cloak that looked like it came straight out of a fable. Her lengthy hair draped out of the opening of the hood revealing white and pastel pink colors. Blazed like torches, her candy apple eyes peered at the piece of twig that held a deliciously skinned and cooked squirrel. Hidden under her cloak, the pale complexion girl wore a light beige dress that left her shoulders mostly uncovered. It flowed down into a stylish sweetheart neckline and below the waist the dress drooped in the air, covering her tall, brown boots. Elegant and fit for a fine maiden, she'd say. Yet, the end of the dress was muddy and teared, as if the piece of clothing went through conditions it had never experienced before. No true aristocratic woman would dare ruin such fabric. Or, would they?

Taking a carnivorous bite into the stomach area of the meat, her face filled with glee as she moaned in delight, "Sooooooooooo good!" Her gaze went from her meal to a giant, snow furred beast (below the branch) ripping open an elk and devouring it with vigor and excitement. Taking another bite but this time by the bottom area of the small, dead creature, she yelled with her mouth full of tastiness, "Looks like you're enjoying your food too, Chronos!" The dire wolf looked up at his companion, blood dripping down his mouth and gave her a deep bark in agreement. After he acknowledged her, he swiftly turned his attention back to his food and chomped away.

Hmm... Perhaps I should take the antlers with me. Carve knives or something.

The next moments were filled with the sounds of tearing, chewing, and swallowing of their morning meal. How long had she been traveling? The last town she passed through, Rini took a little rest in the Mystic Lion Tavern. There she heard people talking about the Tower of Stars. It had only been last week a cyborg and his foreboding companion came by to pick up a parcel.

- FLASHBACK -

The two men, one who looked like a brawny weight lifter and the other one who like a conceited business man talked about their encounter with a mysterious woman. She had silver hair, half of her face was indiscernible, and the most striking attribute about her was her piercing red eye... that penetrated their heart with fear and sucked their soul dry.

Rini watched the business man grow pale the more and more he talked about this woman. Impatient and eager, she slammed her fists on their table to grab their attention.

"What's her name?!" Both men turned to look at the 'little girl' laughing at her sad attempt to intimidate them. Though she had similar traits to the woman in their story, they didn't seem to have the same reaction... maybe a burnt face really scared people? Unlike this mysterious woman in their story, Rini's skin looked unnaturally porcelain with no blemish.

"Should you even be here? A little lady like yourself can get hurt. You know, from the big bad wolves out there." The men had forgotten about the topic they were talking about. They were intrigued at the white beauty that stood before them. One of the men even licked his lips as he leered at her, making her shiver in disgust.

"Does it matter? I asked you a fucking question, dickheads."

The business man that knew the most about the foreboding woman in the story stood up laughing, "Aye, she has bite, mate. I like that." Following suit, the brawny man stretched and joined his friend as they both prowled closer, "Maybe we should take her home? Gotta make sure she finds her way safe, kinda dark out I'd say."

Anger built up inside of Little Red. Her father had stunted her growth because of all his experiments. She's looked this way for as long as she could remember. These gross men needed to be ripped to shreds. When Reena was ready to pull out one of her blades, the Madame that owned the place glided into the scene. The voluptuous dark haired beauty didn't even have to open her mouth. Her mere presence made the men dismiss themselves.

With a welcoming nature to her, the owner spoke to the White Rose personally, "You're asking about Lethal? She comes here occasionally." Leaning up against the bar, she looked up to the ceiling, her hazel eyes glistened under the hanging light, "Funny story, her and her half orc partner met here. They got so drunk. I actually gave them a free room for the night. From that day on they've been inseparable." The wise woman paused and realized she didn't introduce herself, "Oh, how rude of me, I am Mona Veseere, owner of this lovely Tavern. But you can call me Madame."

"Thank you Madame Mona. Um, I'm Rini." Rini's bright eyes looked at the woman admiringly, before bashfully asking, "Lethal...is that her name?"

Grabbing a rag and wiping down the bar area, the Madame smoothly responded, "Nickname, but I wouldn't be able to tell you her birth name. You see, Lethal isn't the most...approachable person. Most of the information I find out about her is from her partner, Gibraltar. When I saw you walk in, I thought she had a daughter I didn't know about!... Since you don't know her, I'm gonna assume you're not her child."

Bewildered but still curious, Little Red continued her investigation taking note of this 'Gibraltar' person, "No. My mother died a long time ago. Though... she may be my half sister." Not wanting the subject to stray from the point, the girl inquired, "You know where I can find her?"

Looking up at the Dove girl, the Madame smiled, "Of course I do, doll. She's been working for Christian Highfell, the Lord of Stroms, for quite some time."

The hope in Rini was undeniable. With her fists clenched, the young looking girl felt like she was almost to her destination. Without any hesitation, Rini pleadingly questioned, "Where can I find this Christian Highfell? And with that the kind stranger gave her directions to the Tower of Stars and what to do when she arrived. The Madame also warned Little Red to be careful on her travels, she complimented the young girl's looks saying she was like a White Rose or a Human Dove. Wolves were indeed out there lurking in the shadows, waiting to attack. The simpleminded traveler didn't understand the wolf analogy since her traveling companion was a big, cuddly wolf but she accepted the compliment graciously.

Thanking the woman, Reena dismissed herself. Exiting and walking to the back of the building, she noticed Chronos had a piece of man's pants in his mouth.

"Good boy."

- END OF FLASHBACK -

Having finished all of her squirrel, the White Rose threw her stick and peered down at her beast once more. He had finished and licked an antler clean for her. Pushing off the branch, Rini dropped down and onto the saddle wrapped around her dire wolf. Chronos grabbed the antler with his mouth and tossed it into the air for her to catch. After catching the stick, she pointed it in the direction that led to the Tower, "We ride!" And with that the giant wolf went full speed ahead.

~~~

Almost 2PM, only having to stop once for a bathroom break, Little Red and Chronos finally reached the main gate of the Tower. Man, she was ready for a nap. There was a Golem named Sentinel there. It halted her from going any further. After scanning her and the dire wolf, it requested, "Please state your birth name and the nature of your visit."

"Uh... does this include my middle name?" The golem nodded 'Yes'. If only she could understand how it felt. This sorcery was beyond her knowledge!

"I am Reena Annabelle Romulus! This is my friend Chronos. He doesn't have a full name. And... we're here to become knights!" She paused and wondered if she should tell Sentinel about visiting her sister. The only words that escaped her lips afterwards were, "I think..." Going silent, the still golem went through the database.

Petting Chronos' fur nervously, Rini waited patiently never taking her eyes off the security A.I.

"Records say you are deceased." Sentinel observed the girl as she looked confusingly innocent at it, not knowing how to go about this situation.

"I suppose I am dead to most of the world."

Information scrolled up one the central screen on the Stormlord’s desk. News feeds from Galendar, nations economic standings, criminal reports, the list continued. A gentle ping at the bottom of the screen made Shard sit up a little from his slump over the desk. The day had been fully uneventful. Looking at the RSVP list for the wedding he smiled; most of the Knights who were here had responded. Urthar’s report had been turned in along with Akime’s and the other Masters. The usual red highlight for Ralrisk’s name was in its proper place.

Christian’s enigmatic and childish Mistress of Shadows never included a report for anything unless it was dire. It was also probably for the best as she ran her division of Knights much differently than other divisions. Shard doubted he wanted to see some of the reports he was sure she’d have handed him if he’d bothered to pressure her for them.

Sitting back in the chair Shard picked up a rather large hand and a half sword off the desk and unsheathed it. With practiced hands he began cleaning and giving the sword a new edge. Not that the maintenance was necessary he simply enjoyed cleaning Thunderstruck and Lightningshock. The smaller one handed short sword was still sitting on the desk next to a heft shield made of a polished bronze material. Cloudmantle had already been polished for the day. The weapons were way out of date but in the Lord of Storms hands they could still rend armies. Many had questioned him for keeping the relics as The Ace of Storms and Heart of Storms were more than enough for any situation but Shard simply shrugged them off and continued to maintain the old weapons.

Tapping the ping he squinted at the bio that popped up on the screen. “Why are you sending me…?” Pulling up Sentinel’s visual feed Shard compared the picture on the bio print to the girl standing in the entry hall of the Tower. “What the actual fuck..?” Standing up Shard seized on the Ace of Storms and flickered from the top of the Tower into the entryway a safe distance from Sentinel’s Golem and the red hooded girl.

“Archive, pull the info we have on this girl and her relatives.” The Archive pinged its response. Stepping around the corner Shard approached the girl. “Good morning miss. What brings you to the Tower of Stars today?”

@lovely complex

Akime’s body was moving slowly in synch with the music filling the room. The tunes of the piano danced around her, gently brushing over her body or bouncing off her skin, nudging her in the right direction. It was raining outside but it wasn’t cold and the windows were open, the sound of the droplets and the flutter of the long curtains singing along to Chopin. Her legs moved lightly, almost without touching the ground, the motions so practiced that they were almost second nature.

She remembered how it felt when she was young, like she’s a leaf and the music is the breeze and her partner was an open fire, making her tremble, pushing her gently this side or another. She used to love dancing – it was one of few peaceful endeavours in her country.

Now she still had the skill but she was pretending. She was dancing purely physically but her heart wasn’t in it. And Cole could sense it and always tried to bring that long buried desire out of her.

Of course, she knew how to dance, she’d known and practiced it over a thousand years… but this occasion was special and she was striving for perfection. Her partner was Cole, the motions of his body just as exact as hers. He hadn’t practiced for a thousand years, he’d only been a human for three, but he was easily on parity with her. And if anything, he was the one correcting her.

When he led then to a slow stop the look on her face was of surprise and of slight frustration. She knew the look of his would be sadness and slight accusation.
“What?” Akime asked, her voice sounding out sharp against the music. “It was good this time.”
Cole shook his head and smiled, making her shoulders relax slightly. He wouldn’t be smiling if it was that bad.
“You’ve always been good.” He spoke. His voice was quiet, reassuring. “But you lack something. You’re not putting the emotion into it. You have to dance as if you really want your heart and soul to become one with your partner’s.”

Akime sighed lightly. She’d lost the joy of dancing ages ago, perhaps along with the hope of finding love. Now all the pleasure she felt from doing it was purely technical. “How come you’re so good?” She asked.
“It comes natural to me.”
“But you’re a griffin.” She smiled at the ridiculousness of it all. “Do griffins dance?”
“We do something similar. But it doesn’t matter what I am, every body has instincts, all you have to do is listen to them. Your body knows how it needs to move, just let it.”

Akime sighed and took his hand again.

It had always amazed her how easily Cole had adjusted to his human visage. It had taken him only a couple of days to learn to walk and within the week he’d joined the waltz practices. Within the year he was as good as she was. It was amazing. It’s as if music was a part of him and he was a part of it, and he could be a part of anything he decided. Long, long ago she remembered feeling the same way, as if your body is just a shell that melts away to free your spirit and let it soar. It was a magical feeling that she regretted having lost but there was the consolation that Ibuki had always been worse than her.

While Cole was helping Akime polish her technique, Amber was struggling to teach Ibuki. Like Cole she was very in-tune with her body and was desperately trying to convey her skills to him. They weren’t near as graceful as Cole and Akime but Ibuki was really trying and Amber made it look fun. Akime enjoyed watching them out of the corner of her eye while they were twirling and spinning around the room, the occasional grumble or scold rising over the music.

Nevertheless, they were all trying hard to prepare as best they can for the upcoming event. Even Amber agreed to attend, though nobody was sure if she’d finally forgiven Shard or just going because she really loved and respected Raven. Akime hoped it was a bit of both.

She also hoped Lazarus wouldn’t think she was being weird when she sent five suits for him to choose from for the wedding. She hadn’t seen him much for the past week, both of them tending to their own business, but the brief encounter she had had left her with the distinct impression that he would appreciate some help adapting to this new world. And she had experience with that, with Amber and many others who had been imprisoned or dead for some time. She’d help them understand all they had missed and nurse them back to health… but… it was only after she’d sent the suits that she realised Lazarus was neither dead nor crippled, that he was perfectly alive and free to do whatever he wanted… And that her action might have seemed incredibly patronising.

Her face was red for ages that evening. Her friends actually thought she had a fever. But despite everyone’s insistent questions, she’d refused to speak about it. Eventually a triumphant smirk on Ibuki’s face told her he’d found out and she punched him for it. He’d laughed his heart out that evening.

Akime closed her eyes and took a shaky breath before sighing it out. Some mistakes couldn’t be undone.

“You sigh like an old lady.” Ibuki teased. And Akime wanted to punch him again.

It had been a while since he’d made use of the bedroom in the small cottage Lichlord Paivne had constructed for Christian and Raven to escape to. With slow movements Christian buttoned the front of his dress shirt. It was quite in the house as the Lord of Storms continued to prepare for the wedding. His wedding. In two short weeks he’d gone from missing his beloved dearly to sleeping in the same bed with her every night. And now they were tying the knot.

It really hadn’t settled in for him yet. Strange really this was such a human ritual. As far as he was concerned he’d tied the knot two thousand years ago in this very house in the bed he was standing next to. Then again it was a necessary step as the rest of the world needed it to give credence to Raven and Christian’s right to be together. Picking up the Heart of Storms he pressed the crystal bangle to his right wrist and it molded to allow him to wear it around his wrist. Looking down at his left hand he carefully took the Darkstar ring off. As much as he felt it was silly Christian still needed to exchange the ring with Raven publically.

With finality he buckled on his belt and strapped the Deck of Storms to it. It would be a cold day in the domain of Elsingdar before he went anywhere without the Deck, Ace and Heart of Storms. While they weren’t everything they magnified his power to incredible degrees. Turning as he shrugged into the dark blue jacket he looked over the small homely bedroom he and Raven had shared on the road from Westwatch to Angel’s Landing. The quilts were still on the bed and many of their smaller possessions were still where they had left them. It had been a difficult time for the two of them. Not knowing if the next battle would be the end for them.

Smoke and fire clouded his vision as he gripped the battlements of the spires of Westhaven. He could feel Raven shifting on his back as she tried to see where they were needed most as the Stygian’s scaled the sheer cliffs of the mountain city. With a tremendous heavy Christian flipped himself off the wall and snapped open his powerful wings bring them up above the smoke and fire so he could breath lightning on the defenders of the city.

Walking into the living room he looked at the solid iron oak table with its two chairs. The piece was a solid affair that had served them well. With that he moved on to the kitchen with its heavy open fireplace. Shard smiled as he remembered the need to cook for the two of them on several occasions. Moving on he walked into the bathroom where he had so reccently bathed. Remembering the first time that they had both made use of the bathroom after a Druid of the Dark Circle had cut Raven open and he’d had to nurse her back to health. He could still remember the sight of her diluted pink blood on the white tiles and the way the water had colored from her torn stitches. It was also the sight of many long hot baths together after grimy and gory battles. The baths had often devolved into ferocious mating which had left most of the water on the tile floor. Smiling he walked back out of the bathroom. The cottage was smile with only three rooms and this was where they had spent almost ten years of their life.

Giving the whole house a final once over he checked to make sure everything was back in its proper place before he opened the front door and stepped out into his office. Closing the pocket dimension behind him smoothly. Pavaine had told him that the magic used was long forgotten. Shard smiled enjoying that he and Raven would always have a safe haven to hide away in.

With that Shard descended the stairs heading for an elevator. Urthar was waiting for him in the basement of the Tower and his guest should be preparing to leave via Urthar’s magic. The Honor Guard should also have been aboard Blackwing with his fiance departing for the Hill of Flowers.

“Alright. One last adventure.”

Shiba woke up that day same as usual but he felt the electricity in the air knowing that today was a wedding and that he would be part of the honor guard to make sure the wedding went smoothly. He has spent the past few days working on making sure he would be ready in case something did happen, even if nothing happened however he needed to look like a guest for a wedding so his fathers suit was a must. Shiba had made sure to iron it and make the necessary adjustments to the arms so he could keep the gauntlets on. He got up and got himself dressed he even brushed his hair and put on some old colon. Once he was sure he was dressed for the part of a wedding guest he put on his cloak and he headed off the ship where the wedding would take place.

Shiba got outside and he opened his wings to get their flying was still an advantage over teleporting any day. Shiba got to a ship that he assumed the wedding would take place considering how it was decorated and how he was told the ships name prior to leaving. Shiba didn't bother with talking with anyone however since he was a guard he needed to find himself a place where he could look at everything from above and thankfully the ship had a crows nest just for that. Shiba soon flew up to it then took a position and used his cloak to blend the light around him, to anyone else it would look like nobody was up their however anyone with keen eyesight could see the glimmers that his cloak would give off. This kind of channeling magic was much easier then the times he would put on a full transformation for someone like making them see him as a rat this magic only changed his outward texture which could be managed for long periods of time which was good since he wasn't leaving his post until the wedding ceremony was done and he could go to the reception...

Sirius’ steps were soft and lithe. His feet were soundless as if the very air approved of his plan, a snake slithering across the halls, unnoticed, unseen. It was no spell, there was no magic behind it, just simple technique and lots… and lots of practice. His body moved by itself, his mind consumed by his goal, inflamed, hurting... His tongue came out to lick his lips absently – always salty, moist, never cracked.

In his chest, his heart was a drum. It was counting his steps steadily, loudly, impatiently. Thump. Thump. Thump. The room was in view now. A simple wooden door, but somehow so enchanting. He cracked it open – she was alone. He couldn’t believe his luck. If his brother had been around Sirius wouldn’t have risked it yet for whatever reason, she was alone. His tongue came out and across again, tracing the crook of his smirk. One little lamb, so exhaust’d and unknown. One little lamb, so lost and alone.

The air tasted magical. The sweetness of the drugs that hung in the air, the faint smell of the girl’s sweat. It sent jolts of excitement down his spine. And there she was, laid on the bed so serene, so beautiful. He stepped closer, not bothering to close the door. A sound bubbled from his throat, the hum he’d heard from that charming redhead. The lull came out unrefined, the spell that carried it through people’s hearts lacking in his case, but his voice was soft and oh so caring… it was well suited for it, and it made his smirk crack into a grin. Marielle was beautiful – strong, pretty, untamed. Her hair was ruffled, spilling over the pillow like a dark waterfall that defied gravity.

He climbed on the bed gently as a lover, hands and legs around her, careful not to disturb; his eyes were darting over her figure, wishing, dreaming; the taut, lean muscles that must be lying underneath those sinful sheets; it seemed almost cruel; his hands came up to entwine her fingers with his… holding them down; he wanted to peel the sheets away so badly, trace a hand over her stomach… her neck was so succulent it was hard to look at… and oh he hated people like her so much…

Her face was that of a sleeping beast and he couldn’t help but bring his closer to hers. He inhaled her breath and rode the wave her stirring sent through the room as her sheets turned into an iron cage, both their hands wielded to the bed frame. “Hello beautiful.” He grinned next to her ear, all butter and honey, and pulled away just enough to let her see his face.

Marielle stirred slightly, submerged beneath the waves of very deep sleep. “Xavier..? Is that you?” Her voice was a mere whisper as it carried through the silent hallway of the infirmary. The girl’s features twisted in such an unusual manner, a reflection of innocence. Weakness.

Ooooh~? Sirius’ eyebrow rose slightly, his eyes wavering for a moment but his grin remaining. He scanned her face, engraving it in his memory. She didn’t seem like the type to mutter loved ones’ names in her sleep. But then, that made her that much more interesting. He adjusted himself a little, torn between the desire to wake her up and that of hearing more of her dreams. “Yes?” He prompted softly… this was such a sweet game.

“Don’t leave,” Her face was stern now, stiff, as if she was holding back tears. Her breathing began to increase its pace ever so slightly, causing the girl’s chest to rise and fall.

Sirius hesitated. He’d come here ready for a fight but it while it was still a very real possibility that she’d wake up and try to burn him to a crisp, it also seemed likely that she’d burst into tears and get half the Tower rushing in. He waited for a long minute, hand ready to cover her mouth if she got too loud.

The girl slowly opened her eyes, clearing the fog of her slumber. Her senses gently told her to wake up, but as soon as she took in the sight above her her predatory self kicked in. Swift as a viper she attempted to wrap her hands around his neck, only to realize her body disobeyed, sticking to the bed. Her eyes burned of glowing orange, her teeth clenched like an enraged animal.

Unblinking serious eyes held her down. The crook of his mouth was now pointing slightly downwards. “Who is Xavier?” He asked softly.

Marielle attempted to swallow her anger but that only fanned the flames. Despite her cool demeanor the hot headed girl’s cheeks were ripe and red in embarrassment. Nobody knows about her predicament besides the captain of blackwing, and even then the knowledge Lady Marrowblade obtained wasn’t so easily shared. Marielle bit her lip, avoiding his eyes, a grim smirk on her lips. “None of your business.” Noting how close he was she finally felt the heat on her face. “Speaking of which, WHY THE FUCK ARE YOU ON TOP OF ME?” Marielle roared. Surprisingly, nobody stirred outside blackwing, as if they couldn’t hear the stubborn girl’s loud voice.

Her outburst broke the spell, reminding him why he was here. A hand came to rest over her mouth, too slow to prevent her from screaming at him but stern enough to make her reconsider before doing it twice. It was soft and warm, somewhat sweaty and it tasted of a mountain bog. Marielle tried to pull away from his skin but there was not enough room for her to move under the steel sheets. A playful smirk had returned to his face, the weight of him all around her, as if he’d returned the sheets to normal where he rested just so he could feel her body underneath. He didn’t shush her but his hand peeled off to trace the line of her neck gently. “You must have known your little display would make an impresson. Why are you so surprised now to find out that it did? I don’t know how you saw it but to me it just seemed like a little girl begging for attention.” His eyes had lost focus, lost in his thoughts and not her words. He scowled at the sheets as his hand reached the base of her neck only to meet resistance. The prise was in his hands but he was hesitating on how to take it. He wanted her to resist but he also wanted to see her. Should he just remove the sheets or would it be more interesting if he releaced her hands first, only holding them back by his own strength? His eyes flicked to her now red face and the odd smouldering orange of her eyes and he scoffed. Embarassment was nice but it wasn't the emotion he was here to harvest. His fingers entwined with hers again, arms on both sides of her.

“The question you posed yourself is ‘am I really that strong on my back’~” he chuckled, undoing his spells in the same instant as his teeth found the edge of the sheet and pulled it down.

Marielle grinned maliciously, inhaling sharply. The basic motion slipped a card up to her neck, a King of Spades. It quickly melted into her skin, causing the edges of her to shimmer like a ruby. Marielle wore a black cami underneath the sheets, the color becoming exposed as Sirius dragged it down. It was a thin cover for her skin, but she didn’t care for much protection anyway. When he got down to her stomach she reared up, tightening her grip on his hands, which suddenly was frighteningly strong. Her eyes were red like an inferno. She laughed wholeheartedly and forced his head back up to hers where she slammed her forehead against his like a charging bull. ”I don’t need attention from a bastard.” She gritted her teeth in an angry grin.

The man reacted just quick enough to prepare himself for the attack – however he misjudged her intentions. The red glow and everything he’d seen from her before, lead him to believe she’d try to burn him and not hit him. So although prepared he wasn’t prepared for the right thing. His skin was coated in a thin layer of water but alas it did nothing to protect him from her headbutt. The sheer force of it made his head spin and something told him what sprayed over Marielle’s face wasn’t just water but blood too. Surprisingly, she was still holding his hands so apparently she wasn’t finished with him... and he didn’t mind. He adjusted himself, leaning close to her face again, this time ready, and grinned through bloodied teeth. “Xavier must be real special then. Tell me, then, why isn’t he in bed next to you? Is he dead or did he just have enough of you?”

A flash of bloodlust appeared on Marielle’s face. Suddenly her facial expression softened and she loosened her grip a little. “What, are you a masochist or something?” Normally Marielle would have exploded, attacking him with all the fire she could muster, but she was worn, tired of the hearing that over and over. Sirius wasn’t the only one to ask her this question. It was familiar, but only because Marielle has been asking herself the same thing for years. She threw his hands off of her own. “Go bother somebody else, you prick.” Her statement was simple as it easily came out of her lips, but her eyes were questioning, sudden curiosity to his visit overcoming her anger.

Sirius leaned back, sort of sitting on her legs and for the first time it seemed like his smile was a soft and sincere one. It suited him, making him look suddenly very young and handsome, barely over 17. “Well then.” He sniffed and rubbed the blood off his nose, then sniffed again and got off the bed at last. He dusted his shoulders dramatically though the blood wouldn’t come off so easily. “Seeing as he’s not dead I feel obliged to let you know he must be deranged.” He grinned and winked. “I see nothing wrong with you. A girl like you can definitely do better. So when you find him I hope you can take a tooth out or two.”

Her eyes widened a little at the response. Did she just get a compliment? Looking at his bloodied nose she stared for a moment before bursting into a fit of laughter, taking the king of spades out of her skin and placing it back in her deck. “What the fuck, you look awful right now!” She frowned. “You’ve got balls though, I’ll give you that. Why are you here, and how long were you staring at me? Fuckin’ perv.” There was the hint of a slight smile at the ends of her lips.

Sirius caught on her mood and grinned himself, shrugging slightly. The compliment came as a pleasant surprise and he had to admit he liked the girl, as pathetic as she was. “Couldn’t sleep. Besides, as I said, you made me curious. I think someone has to be insanely brave or very desperate to attack Lady Marrowblade. I’ve got my answer.”

She slowly raised an eyebrow. “Oh?”

The man winked again and waved. “Well then, little lamb, sleep well and rest assured I won’t bother you anymore tonight. I’ll see you in the morning, hopefully in a more decent attire.”

Marielle puffed air at the lose strands in front of her face, an unreadable look covering her features, eyes mysterious as they remained in their orange glow. They watched Sirius leave from the infirmary, as if he were someone else.

The cyborg had found his way to The Blackwing early that day, reporting for duty, as instructed by the Master of Blades, and he was placed in front of Lady Marrowblade's cabin. After their rather interesting encounter and the assurance of the incident two days ago, Gibraltar reported for the 'check-in' to see if he could be of any assistance for the wedding. Of course, as he had expected, the Knight Captain was to be placed in the honor guard for the ceremony, and he was told to wear something formal. Being a cyborg, clothing was...more difficult to come across and his armor plating was technically his 'clothing' as it was his 'skin'. It wasn't until the next day that he found Lethal and requested that she apply a paint job to his armor plating, a solid, glossy coat of black paint, that would eventually be washed off in a chemical bath. At the same time he also requested that she fabricate a Spaulder armor piece to clip a sash onto, one that complimented the paint job.

He was given a matte grey spaulder piece, hastily fabricated and worked perfectly with the blood red sash he had from his old life. The sash wrapped around his torso, and was emblazoned with the symbol of the clan he used to fight and lead for; also attached was a pin recognizing his rank as a Knight Captain. His 'clothing' was simple, yet formal, a straight cut-to-the-point type of attire, something that fit his cut-to-the-point attitude. This attire of course meant something more to Gibraltar though, having served in the military his whole life, even before fighting alongside the knights of the tower, wearing a uniform, even a simple, formal uniform was a sign of respect. Military taught one discipline, respect, honor, a soldier's uniform, especially their formal uniform, was an embodiment of those virtues that had been beaten into their skull.

He knew that the tower was a little more informal than most military outfits he had served in, being an officer he had witnessed this first hand, and yet, having served with these people for the short time he had, the respect and discipline was still there. He realized that many others might be wearing more traditional formal attire, less militaristic, but that was not how Gibraltar behaved, and he only hoped that Lord Highfell and Lady Marrowblade would understand this. Until that time though, Gibraltar would stand guard, his sensors ready to pick up the first sign of distress, his menacing form looming beside the door.

Dangling his feet over the edge of the ship Zachary looked down at Angel’s Landing below him. As the pathologist sat on the edge of Blackwing a warm breeze blew by him as he kicked his feet back and forth in the air. A gnarled Daggerpine staff sat across Zachary’s legs as he contemplated the drop.

Lifting a death mask from its place on his hip Crow placed the over his face. With it in place Crow kicked himself free of Blackwing and fell. The arms of his robes billowed in the wind. The dark robe was open at the wrists so it could be pushed back up over his forearms if he needed his hands clear for fighting. The rest of the robe was loose fitting up secured so as not to interfere with Crow’s movements. The whole affair had been a gift from Ralrisk as she had guessed correctly that he wouldn’t go out of his way to find a suitable set of clothing for the wedding.

Crow’s satchel and skull were slung across his chest in their normal position. A belt full of pouches wrapped around his waist secreting away the tools of the Ghostwalker. Twisting away from the Tower as he fell Crow inhaled and closed his eyes. With a lurch Crow moved himself from the mortal realm to the realm of the dead shedding his mortal coil. Catching the edge of the ghostly version of the Tower Crow adjusted his fall; he hated crossing the Veil. Turning and looking to the right Crow could see the dots of power and the energy of the living welling up from the Tower. Two dark dots appeared in the Tower. One of them was a font of Dark energies that marked the Hand of Vulture. Crow shivered. Lazarus was someone he avoided regularly. The man was far too visceral to stand in proximity to. The other dot of dark power tugged at Crow’s soul as he brushed past the outside of the Tower.

Akime

Drawing lines down the underside of the eyes of his mask he peered into the mortal realm as he looked into the Tower. Akime was dangerous for him. Watching the dark fluid flow through her veins Crow shivered. Yishreenok could call in a marker for her at any time. Crow frowned at the faint silver trails that seemed to cling to her shadow. Magic from another realm perhaps?

Crow narrowed his eyes. It looked Fae. Then again she was a Fae Lady so perhaps it wasn't so unusual. Looking towards the horizon as he continued his fall Crow studied the shifting lines of the spirit world. Something was moving out there. Something that pulled at the flow of magic. Something that seemed to bend the strings of reality. The air whipped at his face as the ground fast approached. Pulling his mask up Crow shifted back into the mortal realm and loosened the holds of his form. In an explosion of black feathers and red eyes Crow beat his wings and blinked his many eyes as his form ascended back towards Blackwing. The Murder of Crows twisted upwards weaving back and forth over itself in a mass of caws and fluttering feathers.

With his jaunt to the spirit realm complete Crow crossed the deck towards the other honor guard members. It was about time to take Blackwing to the Hill of Flowers. A small smile crept across Crow’s face. It was about time Christian got married.

Stepping hurriedly through the ground floor of the Tower was one Leviathan Nero, quietly cursing himself for having overslept. He had been up into the wee hours of the previous night tinkering with DIG ME NO GRAVE, and had fallen asleep at his workbench. He slept right on through the time that he had allotted for waking up and preparing himself, and arose with scarcely an hour to spare before he was supposed to leave for the wedding. Necro, of course, had been more than happy to let him sleep, only to laugh at his frenzied attempts to get ready once he had realized the hour.

Levi checked his pocket watch again as he continued his rushed pace toward the rendezvous point. Just enough time, barely. He had been forced to enlist Necro's help in dressing himself, as the suit she had chosen for him was rather ornate. A steel-grey three-piece with a short cloak over his shoulders, with indigo lining and embroidery and a fine white ascot, gloves and shoes. Necro had even slicked down his otherwise unruly hair, and so for once he appeared every bit the professional artificer that many assumed he was. His familiar had simulated a lacy, silver, open-backed dress onto herself, with matching opera gloves, black heels and her fine hair woven into braids. She carried on behind Levi, snickering, and merely re-summoning herself at his side whenever his quick pace and long stride left her behind.

Finally reaching where the rest of the wedding guests had gathered, Levi breathed a conspicuous sigh of relief. Made it. Checking his watch again, it seemed that there had scarcely been a minute to spare until they were set to leave for the ceremony. He dabbed at the sweat on his forehead with his handkerchief as Necro continued to look on smugly. Levi cast a cold look down onto his familiar, noting to punish her in some way when the wedding was over with. Forcing her to feed Dunsany for the remained of the week ought to do the trick; she was loathe to deal with Levi's affectionate pet blob.

Ludelle had to make two steps for each one he took, even though she could tell he was walking as slow as possible for her. Still, he was almost twice her height and as fluid and graceful as his legs were, he couldn’t make his legs any shorter. Luckily the long halls of the Tower provided a good stretch for them to strike a pace that was somewhat comfortable for both without looking insanely ridiculous. The rest lied in the hope that people would understand it was hard to keep up with a troll.

She was nervous. For one, she had never met the husband and wife-to-be and despite Calder’s diligence in explaining who they are, she still felt that her place wasn’t among them. She wasn’t a loner but she was fairly certain that her behaviour throughout the week she’d been here had been a bit too rude. Yes, she’d had to deal with a lot and Adela’s presence and her memories still haunted her and there was still that hole in her heart that started bleeding every time she thought about Marcus… but none of it was any of those people’s fault. Calder’s constant presence had been an annoyance at first but now she was happy that he was with her and even happier that he’d given her the time to deal with her issues.

The only problem was how the others would receive her. She had behaved like a brat and after many of the knights had risked their necks to break her out of Southgate, she hadn’t done anything to pay them back or even acknowledge their bravery. She’d just locked herself in her room and only came out once she felt she could face this new life. She hadn’t asked for it but after what Adela had been thought, Ludelle was certain there were worse things.

Speaking of the latter, Ludelle had found out some pretty reliable records on the assault on her and the instructions on what to do to her if anyone from the Stygian Blade got lucky enough to find out her whereabouts. There would be no pats on the shoulder or a “well done”, so the elf was pretty certain that Adela wasn’t a spy. Still, she couldn’t easily ignore Marcus’ words and the doubts made her avoid the woman awkwardly, even though the glaring had stopped.

They finally reached the courtyard where the Master of Words was going to transport them to the wedding site. She cast her eyes around and explored the faces – so many people were gathered here it was hard to believe a single building could be a home to them all. Men, women, and even a few children from all sorts of races, mostly humanoid but not just. She spotted the prison guard who had assaulted her, Calder’s brother, and he was carrying a huge bundle of white and red roses and he was grinning and looking handsome and pleasant and nothing like what he did in the prison. She spotted Adela and she was dashing, dressed in a suit that fit her soul like a glove. She saw the Masters and Mistresses congregated at the far end of the yard, all of them polished and perfect, and she moved her eyes back to Calder and he looked amazing too. And Ludelle couldn’t help but feel embarrassed and blush because as nice as her dress was she couldn’t say it reflected her soul because that was fractured, pieces left behind in Marcus’ arms.

Deciding to steer clear of that line of thought she approached the nearest unfamiliar face and decided it’s time to start anew.

“Hello there. My name is Ludelle, what is yours?” She smiled, holding out a hand.

Settle the Score

Monochromatic Rainbow, Wind Wild

Adéla, Ludelle

Day -7

Ludelle tried to put Adéla out of her mind but it was in vain. The woman’s presence in such close proximity was like itching powder and gave her no rest. Not a day had passed before the elf’s patience cracked and she set out to find the irritant and finally settle her scores with her.

The tower was huge and she still didn’t feel like interacting with anyone so asking for direction was out of the question. But luckily there was Senechal and she had no problem with AIs at all. Thus when she left her room, Ludelle’s steps were confident as they carried her straight to Adéla’s room. The latter was just coming out of her room only to run into a very annoyed face from the past.

“What are you playing at?” Ludelle started unceremoniously.

Adéla jumped as Ludelle burst into view. Her hand flew to the sidearm she always carried, but she let it drop as she realized who it was.

“What?” She asked incredulously, “What am I playing at?!” Rebounding from the surprise she marched forwards, poking Ludelle in the collarbone with an accusatory finger. “I lead a mission to rescue you from that prison, got my leg cut off in the process, and have endured you being nothing but spiteful and angry at me - and you’re accusing me of something?!” She hissed the words into Ludelle’s face, venting months of near starvation and explicit agony into a few moments. “I’m not playing at anything.”

“Ha! A rescue mission, sure, and you in the role of the glorious leader! That’s a good one, how stupid do you think I am? Are you seriously expecting me to believe that your presence here is pure coincidence?” The other woman’s frown deepened.

“Why would I be here?!” Adéla bristled, glaring daggers at Ludelle. “You’re the hacker, tell me, what did you find on me in the Stygian Blade’s database, hmm? I can assure you it probably didn’t say I was working as an informant for them.” She took a deep breath, trying to calm herself. “I lead that mission because I had a friend in prison. A friend who didn’t deserve to be in that prison. And in a prison I helped to design! Of course I lead that mission, I wanted to be the one to personally break you out of your cell!”

Adéla took a step back, looking Ludelle straight in the eyes for a moment. “We all got fucked over by the Blade, and I wanted to right some wrongs.” She faltered, sighing. “I have something to show you, but first tell me what you found in their database on me. I want to know why you’re choosing now to come and interrogate me.”

Ludelle scowled, glaring at Adéla. It’s true that she found some very interesting bits and pieces about Adela but nothing definitive and nothing she couldn’t dismiss as falsified information. And she had a reason to be weary. After all…

“He warned me about you. Marcus said that you’re a fox and will try to get me killed. He had no idea… But even infiltrating the Tower of Stars, just to get me... That’s a new low even for you, Adela.” There was electricity sparkling brightly around her pupils - something she didn’t usually do unless she expected a confrontation of some sort. And Adéla knew just how stubborn Ludelle could be. And just how persuasive Marcus could become.

Adéla took a step back. She’d wanted to forget ever hearing the name of Ludelle’s boyfriend. Well, former boyfriend. The man was a scumbag - he’d almost certainly never cared a whit about Ludelle, and manipulated/took advantage of/whatever her at every opportunity.

Gods how she had wanted to punch him.

“Marcus said…” she looked at Ludelle with wide eyes. Even after all this, she was still in love with that hyena? That… inhuman beast in the shape of a man? “Oh sure, I’ve done my fair share of bad things, there’s no denying that, but why would I be here… chasing you or whatever you think I’m doing?!” She gripped Ludelle’s shoulder, not blinking. “I’m here at the Tower because it’s somewhere the Blade can’t reach me, okay? They’re still out for my blood - do you have any idea the kind of risk I took leading that assault?”

“Why would I try to get you killed? That’s the exact opposite of what I want.” She paused, unsure of how to proceed, “Think about it for a moment, please. You’ve known me for years. Why would I suddenly decide I wanted you dead? You say Marcus said I was a fox…” she trailed off, “What if I told you some of the things he’s done?”

Stepping back from Ludelle a few steps, Adéla gripped the edge of her shirt and pulled it off, leaving her almost uncovered from the waist up and revealing much more than cleavage. Golf ball sized blobs of flat scar tissue dotted her entire torso, and her ribcage was oddly shaped, seeming to be lacking a rib or two, and some ribs only seeming to be half there. She turned around, revealing an equal number of smaller blobs of scar tissue, with the addition of obvious knife wounds and a small cluster of more scars that were undeniably tally marks on her right shoulder - twenty one of them.

“Take a good, long, hard look.” She managed to choke out, the anger suddenly gone. “There’s what the Blade did.” The intensity returned, “I. Don’t. Work. For. Them.” She glared at Ludelle, “And you want to know what Marcus did? Look at those tally marks on my shoulder. And then I’ve got a few memories to show you.”

Ludelle had blanched, her face as white as a sheet. The way the name of her beloved left Adela’s lips was like a slap to the face; the scars - the crack of a whip. Ludelle was no fighter and just the sight of her old friend’s disfigured body was enough to make her gut twist. She remembered back when it was young and beautiful and nothing like this. “No…” she whispered halfway through Adela’s speech, then louder once she finished: “No! Shut up, I don’t believe you!” If she’d seemed ready for an argument before, now she seemed ready for a fight. “I know what kind of person you are, Adela, and i know what you’re capable of to achieve your goals! Do you remember that family, that little child you pushed to suicide even when he had NOTHING to do with it?! You have no heart! And I've fallen for your tricks often enough.” She shouted and turned to leave.

Ludelle’s words stung Adéla like the crack of a whip - a red hot iron being thrust straight through her heart. The worst part wasn’t even that it was true… Adéla had done truly despicable things over her life to get what she wanted, there was no denying it. What burned her more than anything was that, above all else, that was what Ludelle associated her with now. In spite of all the good she had done, everything else her friend could remember her by, even the simple fact that she was a friend, or at least… had been…

No, her old friend chose to remember her by the worst things she’d ever done.

Leaving her shirt discarded on the floor, Adéla chased after her faster than she should’ve been able to. She caught up with Ludelle just as the elf was leaving, grabbing her by the wrist and refusing to budge. Ludelle was a hacker and a magic user - she couldn’t compete in a contest of strength. Adéla did however anticipate her trying to shock her off, and kept a charge of anti-magic flowing through her body, ready to swat away any such attempt.

“Look at those scars.” She hissed, grabbing Ludelle’s free hand and placing it on the tally marks carved into her flesh. “Feel that.” She stared into Ludelle’s eyes, months of agony and suffering plainly visible in her own. “You love Marcus so much? You’re so blinded by love that you can’t see he’s worse than I am?” Adéla closed her eyes, a single tear welling as painful memories resurfaced. “Let me show you what your beloved did to mine, and to me as well.”

Before Ludelle could struggle free, Adéla whipped out a small cable, linking one end around her temples and pushing the other over the struggling woman’s head. A small mental signal to the device and a link had been established - in a fraction of a second, months of memories flooded from Adéla’s mind to Ludelle’s, along with every sensation, emotion, and thought she had had.



Adéla stood at the front of her squad as she surveyed the damage. Two members of her team down, but not dead, if she got them back to base in time they would be just fine - have a couple interesting scars to show off, but no worse for wear. The poor saps lying in crumpled heaps all around the old quarry however… they wouldn’t be going anywhere. She walked around, finding the survivors and quickly ending their suffering. This hadn’t been a battle - just a slaughter. Barely any of them had had any sort of armor, and their weapons were in terrible condition.

She honestly felt sorry for them. She wasn’t sure why Marcus had ordered her to wipe out this gang, ostensibly it was something to do with arms shipments but she suspected there was something else involved.

“Colonel,” a voice came from behind her and she stood, holstering her prized custom engraved pistol after closing the eyes of the final survivor and ending his misery. “all hostiles eliminated. No sign of the arms shipment the General indicated.”

“So I noticed.” Adéla called over her shoulder, making one final visual sweep for any last survivors. “Well, this one was a wild goose chase.” She made her way back to her team, patting them on the back with an armored hand, “Let’s get out of here, everybody. I’ll tell the general that his weapons cache wasn’t here and that the smell is awful.”

The two injured teammates had already been loaded onto stretchers, and Adéla walked over, fistbumping Sanchez, “Nice job, saw you take that guy down right after he got you in the leg. I’m glad to have you both on the team.” Turning to the rest of the group she grinned, “Drinks are on me tonight! Let’s blow this joint, if I never see this pit again it’ll still be too soon.”

She froze as a click and a high pitched whine met her ears.

“Then I guess I need to apologize for two things.” A familiar voice growled from behind. Adéla turned to look, only for another series of clicks and whines to sound out. There, right behind her, was her second in command - and he had his rifle pointed straight at her midsection.

“What…” her eyes widened behind her helmet before narrowing, “Drop the weapon if you want to live, Wood.”

The man’s smile was unnerving and sickening. “Turn around again, oh great leader.” He gestured with his gun, “I’m not the one who needs to worry.”

She turned, already knowing what she would see. The shock was still the same however, as the sight of her entire team aiming their weapons at each other met her eyes. She wanted to ask why, but knew it would be futile - she knew how the Stygian Blade worked. Some higher up wanted her gone, probably. They’d set up the trap expertly at that, there was no way she was getting out of this one.

Closing her eyes she turned back around, facing Wood. She took a deep breath, seeming to accept her fate.

Without warning she lashed out, whipping her own gun out of its holster she raced forward, firing off a volley of shots that smashed into her former second in command’s helmet. She couldn’t tell if the shots had penetrated, but like hell was she going down without a fight.

A cacophony of gunfire erupted behind her, and her body spasmed as the shots tore through her armor, punching straight through her body. She gasped as she lost all sensation below her midsection, at least two shots tearing straight through her spine.

Her gun clattered to the ground as she collapsed, the hard concrete around her now red with her blood. Wood pushed himself to his feet, pulling off his helmet as he sauntered over to her prostrate body. He kicked her in the face before bending down and picking up the gun she had dropped.

“Catch.” He called to her team, tossing the weapon over to them. “Put it in the case, and don’t lose it. Cutting off her head is unnecessary, Marcus just wants the gun as proof.”

Adéla was rapidly losing consciousness, she heard and saw everything through a dark haze. Marcus had always been a snake. She should’ve done something about him long ago. Another thought pushed its way to the front - what about Ludelle? She was infatuated with him, there was nobody standing in his way with her if she died here and now.

Darkness overcame her.


Medical nanites were amazing. Adéla was still paralyzed below her chest, and having to drag herself everywhere - but she hadn’t bled out. Life threatening organ damage had been repaired at the cost of permanent scarring. The microscopic little robots were incredible, but they weren’t miracle workers.

She’d dragged herself over to a small pool of water which, judging by the worrying color, was contaminated with industrial runoff. She didn’t have a choice in the matter though. She could drink the tainted water or die of dehydration. Hopefully she would be able to avoid the worst effects of drinking it - so much for advanced healing technology if she just died from highly toxic chemicals lurking about in the water instead.

Her body was wasting away however. The nanites and her cybernetics were incredibly power hungry, and she was wracked with pain as they literally devoured her body.

The gnawed bones of the last rat she had caught lay nearby. Her mouth was caked in its blood, and her hands were marred with the bites it had inflicted before she’d crushed its skull. The rats were thick down here, they’d been feasting on the bodies of the gang she and her team had wiped out two months ago. She had no fire or means of cooking the rats, and so she’d been eating them raw. Playing dead to lure them close before grabbing a few and enduring their frantic bites. They were probably full of parasites - but she had no choice.

One of the guns dropped by the gang had been left behind, it was in decent shape and she kept it nearby. She hated to see it though. Every day she told herself she would survive and get out of this pit, but every day, as hunger tore at her body and the taste of foul water burned in her throat, it looked more and more appealing.

Her arms were twigs at this point, she was barely clinging to life on rats and contaminated water. She’d seen her reflection in the pool - it was just like the pictures of starving people in undeveloped nations. Her skull poked at her skin, and the full figure she had prided herself on was completely gone, her hair had mostly fallen out and what remained was thin and matted.

She’d never appreciated just how important socialization was until now. She was going absolutely insane from the isolation - nothing but rats and spiders for company. She’d resorted to eating the spiders too.

With a sudden manic burst of energy she began speed dragging herself towards the ladder that lead out of this pit. Rocks, rubble, concrete, metal and wood scraps, everything on the ground dug into her gut and sides as she hauled herself across. Her breath came in ragged gasps as she reached it and she took half a second to take a breath before heaving herself up unto the first rung.

The burst of manic strength kept her going, with only the strength of her arms, Adéla dragged herself up the ladder, rung by agonizing rung she heaved away. Her legs dangled uselessly below her as she moved upwards. With every movement she cursed the names of her former team.

Wood, Sanchez, Allen, Turau, Bokun, Kitagawa, Rudolph, Jensen. They would all burn in hell if she had her way.

Wood, the ever confident second in command - she thought he was trustworthy, if ambitious, but now she knew. Sanchez, the reliable point man, always had a smile on his face… she wondered if he had been smiling when he literally shot her in the back.

Allen, kind of a quiet guy, but he was there when she needed him, except this time he’d been there on the wrong side.

Turau, she was also pretty quiet, kind of a loner, but an absolute nightmare with a precision rifle, Adéla had heard its distinctive boom when she’d been been shot - she was pretty sure that was the first bullet to go through her spine, which would explain why it was taking so long for the nanites to heal.

Bokun… she didn’t know anything about him really, he was fairly new, but he would still pay all the same.

Kitagawa was overly serious, he never seemed to appreciate her attempts to add humor into mission assignments now and then.

Rudolph and Jensen were practically inseparable, the two had been best friends since they were both little girls; she remembered they’d often tried to recruit her for girls’ nights after missions, though they had the worst timing ever, so she usually had to decline… she didn’t want to think about those two trying to kill her.

Adéla kept climbing, determined to get out, to survive, to reach a hospital or something and get back on her feet and kill her team. She would kill them, but first she would make them all feel her pain. Make them feel the pain that lead her to scrawl I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive I’m alive on the cement with a rock.

But her hand slipped. Before she could react she plummeted, halfway up the ladder she fell backwards, frantically clawing at thin air as the ground rushed up at her. Her outstretched hand managed to reach it and she clamped down, halting her fall only a few meters from the ground.

Her shoulder shrieked in protest at the sudden stop, and her lower body slammed into the hard metal of the ladder with agonizing force. She gasped in pain and let go, landing on the hard and unforgiving cement below.

She lay there for a moment, tears streaming down her face as she sobbed uncontrollably in pain, fear, and loneliness. She would die here, with nobody around, no friends, nobody. She would die with broken bones and a paralyzed lower body. She would die with the taste of contaminated water in her mouth and her fingernails caked in rat blood. She would die without ever seeing another face again, or hearing someone’s voice - even her own voice, she was unable to speak for some reason, probably purely mental.

She would die here. She would die, she knew she was going to die.

Her thoughts went to her friends, or what friends she had left now that her team had turned traitor. Ludelle’s was the only name that stuck out at her, almost everyone else had decided to put a bullet in her back.

Her eyes flashed open as the realization hit her. They’d been part of the team that countered the Blade’s plans too! They knew Ludelle had played a role in that too. Who knew what they were doing to her?

That decided it. She wouldn’t die. She couldn’t die. Not until she was sure Ludelle at least was safe, the others could fight and probably escape. Her elven friend however...

She cast a look at the gun again, resolving that this would be the last time she let it tempt her before tearing her gaze away as she heard a noise.

A small family of rats seemed to be heading her way. Judging by their lack of fear they’d not been around long to see their compatriots devoured. She went limp, holding her breath as they neared…

The one at the front, a true monster of a rat almost as long as her arm, sniffed her face and body, walking around to the front as the rest scurried after.

She lunged, grabbing the big one by the neck and another big one in her other hand. A third rat had been passing by her face and she lunged at that one too, biting his head off before he had a chance to bite too much of her mouth. The two big ones in her hands had clamped down, and her blood flowed anew as they tore into her hands.

Two quick squeezes and they bit down ever harder before going limp.

Dropping the fresh corpses, Adéla ripped two pieces of fabric off her pants, tying them down over the holes in her hands with a few loose rubber bands she’d found down here.

The knife on her belt was dulled from frequent use, but it still cut through the rats all the same. She pulled their skins off, discarding them to the side as she moved back over to the pool with the three fresh carcasses.

She bit into the big one first, hot thick blood running into her mouth as she ate the sickening meal raw. The second bite went down no easier than the first. Even after two months of living on this her stomach still turned. But survival was a good motivator to keep eating. And so she took the third bite before tearing into the carcass like a wild animal.

Adéla let Ludelle watch. She felt mildly sorry for the Elf - she was experiencing every sensation she’d felt at the time. She didn’t wish that pain on her, or most anybody.

And the other woman was visibly shaken. Her body was trembling, her lips sealed and her jaw clenched, either from the pain she’d experienced in the memories... or the one she was experiencing right now. Adéla had been her friend, one of very few people she’d ever trusted in her life and for all she hated her right now, she never wanted to see her how she saw her just now. Adéla was no saint but she hadn’t deserved all that…

Or had she?

She still remembered Marcus’ warnings. His gentle hand stroking her cheek as if she was a child, protectively, tenderly. “Be aware of Adéla.”, “You know what she’s capable of.”, “Never trust someone with blood on their hands.”

Ludelle was clearly fighting back tears when she locked eyes with Adéla. Compassion was clearly visible in her eyes but there was something else in there too. Something she couldn’t bring out of her throat but she didn’t have to because her friend knew.

With a snarl, half-angry and half-desperate, Ludelle sent a surge of electricity through the cable connecting them strong enough to melt the jack on Adéla’s side and pulled her hand away with a jerk. Her eyes lingered on the other woman for a second longer before she turned and practically ran away, bumping into a passing Knight as she did so.