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Hidden 7 days ago Post by Estylwen
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Estylwen The Villainess

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The Dark Aces


Pennystakes


Mentions: NA Interactions: Omakase @evierose




In the early morning, children were playing inside the Pennystakes Orphanage, wholly unaware of the stealth operation slowly rolling in. Black SUVs quietly rolled up to the front and back of the establishment, effectively cutting off entrances and exits.

One worker within had a child on their knee, watching over the other kids in the room, when it happened.

Tear gas canisters smashed through every window on the ground floor, spreading a noxious gas that immediately had workers and children coughing, tears streaming from their eyes and they wandered blindly. Men with kevlar under their suits and gas masks broke through the front and back doors, shooting bodyguards and tasing workers. The children were dragged out and cuffed with zipties, tossed onto the grass outside.

That was when Pops herself burst out of an office door into the front lobby. Blinded by the gas, she couldn't act faster than the men who trained a unique handgun at her, filled with a payload. It launched, fish hook digging deep through Poppy's clothes and skin. The little talisman now hanging from here appeared like a metal tag, now lit.

As Poppy tried to take a swing at one of the men, she would find her gyft curiously… neutralized. It was then an easy enough task to put her wrists in zipties and drag her outside.

Poppy was forced to kneel across from all her children huddled in a circle, guns aimed at their heads. One of the men spoke up.

”You've got an ultimatum from the Midnight Man. Leave Pennystakes and Grey Heights, and you can take your kids and Personnel with you. Refuse… Well, you'd won't want to refuse.”

Poppy was quiet for a moment, staring at her kids, before she nodded.

Soon, she and her workers were loaded up in transport vans, and the kids loaded in separate vehicles. They were taken outside of the district, towards the direction of Iron Gate.

The Dark Aces remaining in Pennystakes and Grey Heights quickly made their presence known and established their headquarters. They also contracted some workers to improve both districts. Make them worth something and require more thought to attack, if anyone were foolish enough for such.


Ezra takes over Pennystakes and Grey Heights. Pennystakes is upgraded to Comfortable. Grey Heights is upgraded to Rich.
Intermittent post, no points awarded


Hidden 7 days ago Post by SporkoBug
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SporkoBug The Cosmic Engineer

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Unknown Location, Nocturnia Underground


As Ezra’s message popped up on the Doctors’ phone, he gave a bit of a grumble but sent off an ‘Okay’ to the Midnight Man.

The Doctor leaned back in his chair as he closed his eyes for a moment, his hands moving to briefly reach under his mask to rub his cheeks.
”Annoying to not meet the man himself, but we’ll see what a lackey can give us in terms of information.” He spoke to himself before he heard footsteps behind him. ”Another Rumor?”

There was silence from the hooded figure behind their Leader, the Doctors eyebrows furrowed when he wasn’t answered before he turned to face the figure. There was silence between each other before the Doctor moved the clasp his hands in front of his mask with narrowed eyes.
”You’ve seen him.”
The figure gave a small nod, moving to sign with their hands; it was a form of sign language, but not one that was known to many.
”The Canary?” He raised an eyebrow and straightened up slightly.

There was more hesitation before the Doctor gave a small sigh, moving to stand up slowly before he stepped towards the figure, towering over them by at least a head.
”You’ve done well. You can rest now.” He moved to put a hand gently on the figures shoulder before he walked off to his chambers.


Abandoned Warehouse, Iron Gate
Thursday

The Doctors phone buzzed as he got the text that Alastor sent him, giving a small nod before he motioned for a couple of cult members to keep a watch on the entries after Alastor entered.

”You must be the Midnight Mans’ La- Friend.” He caught himself on saying ‘lackey’, ”I hope you- and by extension he- are able to help me with some… information.”

Alastor rolled his head a bit, glancing down at the Doctor through half-lidded eyes. ”Don't expect it to be free. What information are you looking for?”

The Doctor gave a small smile, ”I don’t expect anything for free; my friend.” He said, he crossed his arms carefully as he watched Alastor carefully, ”I’ve heard rumors of something important to me, and I need to find the truth.”

The Doctor moved his hand, a tendril of shadow moving quickly along the ground before shooting up beside Alastor; a slightly blurred picture of Webb.
”This one has been seen alongside your Midnight Man.” He allowed Alastor a bit of time to look at the picture before he continued talking. ”It’s important that I find him, he’s… Important to my group. We can’t have him running amock without anyone watching him.”

Alastor raised an eyebrow. ”...Alright. Say I had seen him. What would you do? Kid's got a right to freedom of movement.”

If this guy thought he was going to interfere with a job the boss gave the spider-kid, he'd have to think again. Carefully.

”I am not disagreeing with that fact.” The Doctor said as he narrowed his eyes slightly, of course it wasn’t seen under the mask. ”I just wish to harness his abilities and help him become stronger.”

A half truth, he wanted to harness Webbs abilities, but only to make himself stronger.
The shadows twisted around the man slightly, like ebbing water that was attracted to the man.
”I promise he will not be harmed if we find him.”

Alastor cupped his chin with a hand, pretending to consider it. ”Hm. An unknown shadow organization promising good intentions, and overall sending up a lot of red flags.”

He shrugged, backing up a couple feet towards the exit. ”Sorry, but I can't help you.”

The Doctor narrowed his eyes at Alastors’ actions and words, he bared his teeth- unseen under his mask of course - before he twisted a hand upwards.

The shadows resting around him suddenly jolted, twisting across the ground like angry pythons before suddenly erupting around Alastor; attempting to grapple him and hold him in place.

About thirty seconds before The Doctor's attack shot forth, Alastor raised an eyebrow at the yellow filaments exploding around him. So, it was a very easy matter to see the attack coming, and slide his body out of the way in the most perfect way.

Then, he aimed his revolver at The Doctor's chest.

”You might not know this, but I can see every way you're thinking to move. You won't be able to dodge this bullet. So I suggest you apologize for getting dust on my shoes, and I'll take my leave.”

The Doctor snarled towards Alastor as he dodged his attack, his shadows bubbled aggressively around him. He was weighing his choices; deal with this pest or let them go and try his luck with the Canaries.
”Take your leave then.” He hissed, narrowing his eyes under his mask, ”Just let your Midnight Man know that its’ not smart to anger the Black Web.”

Alastor tilted his head, gun still fixed on the Doctor. ”Likewise.”

The Doctor moved to unclip a walkie-talkie on his waist, bringing it up to his mask.
”Let him leave. We’ll get the Token elsewhere.” He spoke into it, keeping his eyes on Alastor.

”Smart move, doc.” Alastor said bluntly, before stepping back towards the exit, never taking his eyes off the Doctor. Then he hopped in a waiting vehicle outside and was gone.

The Doctor waited for a couple minutes once the car was gone to step outside himself, furrowing his brow before he pulled out his phone. "Get Mia Ready. She's needed for a mission."

***

Security was tightened around Webb's place of lodging. Two guards would be posted outside his door throughout the night. This would ensure a higher level of safety while still maintaining Webb's privacy. And, as much as possible, they would try to keep a pair of eyes on him up until he reached Silverside. Once in Silverside, it would, alas, be the Canaries responsibility to care for their newest worker.

Webb of course, was really none the wiser; unless Ezra would specifically tell him that he needed to be watched.
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Hidden 7 days ago 7 days ago Post by flux
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flux Tuna Tube

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Cyrus Levine, Jeremy - Iceman, Akula Gun Team Frosty






New Point - Some Dive


Collab with @Estylwen
Mentions: @Yankee Adel - Canary. Interactions: @Estylwen Jeremy - Iceman, Cyrus.
Jeremy’s eye’s shot between the two Akula’s escorting him. One of the Akula’s chuckled. “Throws his cards down and gets desperate right from the get go. Hell of a diplomat.”

The other shouldered past and reached into his jacket to retrieve a thin $10,000 (1 wealth) bundle from his jacket. As Jeremy reached for it the Akula lifted his hand back. “Let me tell you a story quickly. There was this little rookie we called Skip. Skip wasn’t very good at his job but he never took the hint to hit the road. One day the big Barman gave Skip a milk run of a mission that held some importance regardless. Skip being Skip, fucked it up and lost all the money as well.”

The Akula lent in and steered Jeremy away from Cyrus for a moment. “Now Antonio was so displeased that whatever he did to poor little Skip, there was nothing left for us to find. So here are your options.” The Akula's eye’s met Jeremy’s. “You take the hint and enjoy a drink with your friend here. We tell Antonio you got cold feet. Done. Or, you take the money and show us what kind of smooth operator you are. If you end up being deadweight?” The Akula shrugged. “Let’s just agree that you don’t want to be deadweight.”

The Akula lowered their hand with the money again. “So what’s the play buddy? You want this little dream to end? Or do you think you’re ready to work with the sharks?”

Jeremy stared at the bundle of cash, up at the Akula, then back down at the cash. He reached up and took it out of the Akula's hands. ”Just… gimme that.”

He didn't have the luxury of showing his discomfort on his face. But he already had a lot riding on this. Namely getting more of that drug. And he was going to get more, come hell or high water.

He took the money and slapped it on the counter, glancing at Cyrus. ”10,000, take it or leave it.”

Cyrus, pretending like he hadn't heard most of that conversation between Jeremy and his ‘friends’, gave him that easy smile again, shaking his head. ”I said $20,000.”

Jeremy gritted his teeth, ”Well you're getting $10,000, or we're walking to pay the Canaries a visit.”

Cyrus held up his hands in mock horror. ”Oh no, the Canaries. My one weakness.”

He chuckled at his own joke, then shrugged. ”Alright, Jeremy. Just this once, I'll cut you a deal.”

And he held out his hand for the $10,000. Jeremy eagerly handed it over. Once it was pocketed away, Cyrus started talking.
”Funny. If you went to the Canaries they'd probably lie and say they have no clue. Those are the people you want to talk with. Their boys were the ones who picked you off the street. They would know more about this ‘mysterious drug’ that they stuck ya with.”

Jeremy smiled wide. A victory. ”You're the best, Mr. Levine. I won't forget this.”

And he turned to the Akula men. ”Ya hear that? Looks like we're headed to Silverside.”

The Akula that handed the money over wasted no time leading the others to leave for Silverside. “Alright back the car lads. If we can’t find the Canary we call The Eel.”

The easy going Akula gave Cyrus a happy mock salute before leaving, giving Jeremy a slap on the back while walking along the street. “Well goddamn man you turned that around real good! The way you went in at first I thought this would just be a bit of a laugh but hey, cleaned up real good. Don’t mind Grinch, he’s always a grumpy shit. My name’s Lucky, well it’s not really my name, but we have this little tradition where we get named after our ‘defining moments’. Being so subtle and smooth you could be ‘PeaceMaker’, or ‘Mr Fahrenheit’, ooo maybe ‘Wisenheimer Snow Miser’? the possibilities man…”

Jeremy grinned, little stars in his eyes. ”I like all of those, yeah.”

Grinch, the Akula that handed the money over groaned and looked back to Jeremy. “If he starts talking about shitty old Christmas movies, please.” Then discreetly handed Jeremy a handgun. “Just make it stop.” The last look he gave to Jeremy suggested he didn’t care which one of the two Akula’s caught the bullet, only that duty was done.

Jeremy gave the gun a wide stare, before hastily stowing it away on his person. He knew how to use it, of course. Everyone in the underground scene of Nocturnia knew. Though he wasn't sure if Grinch was joking or not. What a way to go, though. All over Christmas movies.
”Right…”

The journey to Silverside thankfully continued without an outbreak of gunfire or further festive rambling.

Khor: -1 W


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Hidden 6 days ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant The darkening

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𝔸𝕤𝕥𝕖𝕣𝕚𝕠𝕟 𝕂𝕒𝕚𝕣𝕠

𝔸𝕪𝕝𝕒 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕙𝕠𝕟𝕖

&

𝕒 𝕤𝕦𝕣𝕡𝕣𝕚𝕤𝕖




The man continued to walk down the halls, entering and exiting elevators and stairwells, and his brother continued to follow him like a lost puppy. It was irritating. Why couldn’t he go bother someone else or come around and just hang out? Not beg for jobs or opportunities. There were so many opportunities for him, lined up, and would give him such a fulfilling and semi-safe life. A safer life in Nocturnia compared to what he was doing. Rubbing his temple while he continued to walk and zone out all the words his brother was spitting out.

He swiped a card over a little camera at an elevator and it opened up after confirming that it was Asterion Kairo — he turned around and put out his hand to stop Jax. “Please…” he started when staring into his little brother’s eyes, who seemed semi-disappointed and prepared to hear something that he didn’t want to hear. A sigh came from him, “Please, Jax. I want you safe. I need you safe. Just please do not do anything stupid. Okay?

Jax rolled his eyes and shook his head, “Fine. I won’t do anything ”stupid” okay?” he sounded more like a twelve year old being scolded and trying to find a happy medium. It made Asterion’s face twist and question his little brother. He clearly did not believe Jax’s words but he wanted to so badly.

Thank you, I love you, now go have fun in one of the activity rooms or something. I have business to do,” Asterion stepped back out of the detectors of the elevator and as the door was closing. Jax and Asterion’s eyes met and Jax mouthed the words, I love you too…

Asterion rubbed at his temples while his eyes closed, the elevator ride felt like it was taking years, and once the ding of the elevator echoed out. He opened his eyes and dropped his hands before walking out into the basement, the same floor that had Ayla on it, and he nodded his head at the guards before the holding room was opened. “Good morning, Ayla. I am sorry that I could not get to you earlier. I wanted to speak with you last night but I got very b —” he rolled his eyes and a hand smacked to his face with a stressed energy.

Close the doors,” he ordered while the guards did so and he approached Ayla. Taking off her gag and tossing it to the side. “I am sorry. They should have taken that out of your mouth,” Asterion was prepared for her to use her abilities on him. She would still have a very difficult time getting out of this place.

Then he undid her chains as well. It’s not like she needed to be hooked to the floor while in a holding cell. They were pretty sturdy. “There you go,” he gestured out as if to say it was better. Stepping back and away from her, “Would you like to talk?

Ayla ran her tongue over the roof of her mouth, everything dry as paper. Ah, he really had been busy. No matter. She had assumed she'd be wearing the thing for the duration of her time here, so this felt more like a bonus.

A hand swiped over the skin of her neck, feeling much better without the collar attached. Two acts of kindness. He really was hoping to get her grateful lips to talk. Lucky for him, she had already planned to.

She folded her hands in her lap as she sat at the edge of her bed, staring up at Asterion. She didn't shy away from his gaze this time, though it still sent a bit of trepidation through her system.

”...Thank you. Yes, I would. I imagine you have… questions. I'll answer them as best as I can.” Her voice was a bit hoarse, but sincere-sounding enough.

I do have a few,” he confessed. Her willingness to answer them to the best of her ability was somewhat suspicious. He wondered if she wanted to be caught and he hoped his men thoroughly searched her for trackers and what not. With the lack of taking out the gag and putting a collar on her — he felt like they probably didn’t do everything they were supposed to do.

Asterion walked over to the door and knocked on it before a speaker kicking on echoed out, “Yes, sir?” a guard could be heard over the intercom.

Can you please get us a bottle of water?” he could hear the raspiness in her voice because of how dry her mouth and throat had to be. He felt a little bad. That wasn’t supposed to be the case, since he hated treating people so awfully, even if they did terrible things — he did terrible things too. It was such a conflicting thought process.

Glancing back over to Ayla, he smiled almost charmingly, “Will you be good for me?

Ayla's eyes half-lidded, her only tell. Before her decorum returned and she said evenly enough. ”We're playing your game now, aren't we? I don't have any tricks up my sleeves, and I'm not going to try anything. Whether my boss tries something, well, that's fairly out of my control.”

She shook her head softly, that slight smile on her face. ”He'll let me stew here for some time though, so you needn't worry. Why don't you ask what's really on your mind?”

Asterion could not help the smile that appeared on his face, “It can be considered a game,” he admitted. The man loved playing games. Hearing about her boss seemed to get his eyes to sharpen a little in thought while he glanced at the door and back at her. Considering what she could mean by that — was the man going to try and get her out? He wondered. That would be fun, wouldn’t it?

Why do you continue to work for your boss?” That was the first question he wanted to ask. The first one that popped up when she asked what was really on his mind. “Why do you work for him at all?” Asterion was gauging how much loyalty the woman would have or how much of a fake personality she would expose to him. Either way, he would get answers by any reaction she would give him.

Ayla's eyes slightly crinkled. ”That's not the first question I expected. Maybe something more like ‘why are you targeting me’, or something to that nature.”

Her head tilted. ”Unless you're used to these sorts of things by now.”

A slight pause, while motes of memories flashed behind her eyes. ”Who wouldn't be grateful to the one who… well, I suppose ‘raised’ is the right word here, who raised you? It may not be biological, but he is the closest expression of family I have.”

Asterion watched as she seemed to fall into memories, her eyes had that look about them, and he smiled lightly. At least she had good memories or she had memories that she didn’t understand were good from bad. Either way, her eyes didn’t seem haunted like plenty of others in Nocturnia. “I was curious and I am very familiar with people attacking me,” he shrugged. “That leads to my second question, I suppose, why did you do it?” he asked simply. It wasn’t a question he truly wanted to ask or not one of the first handful that he thought of first.

That made a little smirk cross Ayla's face. ”Why else does one play chess. Pieces have to move across the board, and actions have to be taken.”

And she left the answer as that, wondering if he would take the vagueness, or if he was smart enough to sense a nonsense answer when it presented itself.

The man stood there, the emotion falling off his face, “Either you are stupid or you are deflecting my actual question,” he shrugged with a tone that sounded disappointed as he let out a sigh. “Why did you do it?” He asked again plainly.

Listen to me, Ayla. Why. Did. You. Do. It.” Asterion didn't want the philosophical bullshit that she was giving him. He wanted to know why. Not because she was told to do it either. He wanted to know why and if he kept having to ask that question. He would.

He was too clever for his own good. Ayla watched him for a moment, before that small smile was back on her face. She leaned forward slightly, as if she was confiding in a secret. ”Because my boss wanted to send a message. A very specific one.

“Would you like to hear it?”


Asterion shook his head, “Why did you do it, Ayla?” he asked again. “I am not asking for vague descriptions or why your boss did it. I am asking why you did it,” Asterion repeated himself. His stare was hard to read while he looked at her. That was when a knock on the other side of the door could be heard and he allowed them to open the small placement area where food, water, and other items could be deposited into.

He grabbed the bottle of water and opened it while he closed the distance between him and Ayla. Taking a drink of it before closing it and handing it to her. “Why did you do it?

She accepted the bottle, watching him carefully again. Another power move. She'd be inviting that weakness, taking a sip from it now. Her gaze dropped to the bottle, feeling the dryness in her throat. There was a fine line between compliance and fighting. A line too soon to cross.

She unscrewed the cap. ”We needed to get you out of the tower. Glade connected to your tower's feeds while performing, and we learned a few things…”

She watched him, judging his reaction before partaking of the water bottle.

There was no reaction but a glint in his eyes as if he assumed there was more and that gave him an answer, an answer he wasn’t really searching for. “Why did you do it?” He leaned against the wall. “I do not want to hear about any of that, Ayla. I want to get to know you. I want to know why you did it. Who you are at your foundation.

Ayla stared for a moment, before her hands holding the bottle fell limply into her lap. ”What, you're not trying to ‘save’ me, are you?”

A pause, before she shook her head. ”I was genuinely happy for your expansion. I was looking forward to playing pretend, playing house. Having a nice little dinner. I would have never hurt June, you know.

“But I needed that information. Well, my boss did. And I had my role to play in that.”
She said, feeling the guilt trip coming on.

He shook his head in response, in the negative, “I know you are capable of saving yourself. I do not try to save people, Ayla. I am not that good,” he chuckled a little while nodding to the rest of her words. “So you enjoy playing pretend and enjoy being fake?” This question didn’t sound like he was trying to belittle her or anything but he was genuinely curious.

”I thought I was being pretty genuine…” The perfect smile was gone, replaced with a slight pout.

Have you ever thought of not playing pretend? I do not find acting fun. I was never a theater kid,” he shrugged his shoulders. “Were you a theater kid growing up? Were you able to attend school? I was able to attend a school for orphans… It was not much. Nothing really past the basics,” he confessed though Asterion loved learning so he continued his education on his own for the most part and the basics from the public school he was allowed to attend when his parents were alive helped with that.

Asterion’s eyes thought about it and he chuckled, “Also, you say you were being genuine. Yes? Then you tell me that you were enjoying playing pretend, Ayla. Which is it? Pretend or genuinity? Maybe a little bit of both? Maybe neither?

Ayla actually seemed a bit flustered at that, and heat rising up in her cheeks. ”It's my job to engage in all kinds of conversations,to be as personable a person as possible. That's what being a negotiator is! If I say what's actually on my mind that's…”

Ayal cleared her throat, fingers twisting around the throat of the bottle. ”It's bad for business…”

Before she took a breath, ”I was… homeschooled.” She said, pointedly avoiding Asterion's gaze briefly.

The little explosion coming from her showed the emotions she had. He stared at her, “Do you want that in life? Only that to be your job?” He was curious. Staying curious. The man wanted to know more about Ayla and who she was at her foundation. He did similar with Hailey, Reid, and he even played with others in such a way.

And…” he said while he noticed she avoided his eyes. “I want to know what is on your mind. I rather know what you are really thinking even if you want to stab me to death. I value honesty, Ayla,” he smiled a little bit. Tilting his head. “And I do not think you want to stab me to death or kill me. I do not think you wanted to bother all those civilians in the Golden Palace. And I do believe you, a little bit, that you were genuinely happy for my expansion into Yellowbrick. However, I know you have a job to do,” he shrugged his shoulders.

Holding out his hand, “Also, there is nothing wrong with being homeschooled. It just means you are smarter than ninety-five percent of us. Even me,” he teased.

She listened, head tilting. He got all that just from ten minutes of talking with her?

She glanced down at his hand, then back up at him. Well, if he wanted to torture her, he would have done so at least five minutes ago, or now. Now? She was unsure what game he was playing. It wouldn't be painful, right?

She swallowed dryly, before she accepted his hand. ”Are… we going somewhere?”

We are,” he led her over to the door and knocked on it. “You want me out of the tower, right?” he asked while leading her out of the door that was opening and slipping through it. Keeping a hold of her hand while leading her down the hall.

One of the guards seemed surprised, “Sir, are you okay? Do you want me to follow?

Asterion waved the concern in his voice away, “I will be fine, Daniel. Thank you.” he pulled out a keycard and swiped it over the elevator buttons as the elevator verified it was him and opened up. Leading Ayla into the elevator. Then pressing a button and smiling at her.

Ayla was flustered again. ”Well, yes, but that was for the mission. What… Where are we…?”

Now she really had no idea what he was doing, and hadn't anticipated it. As Asterion held onto her hand, he would notice it was cold and clammy, a case of nerves.

Ayla cursed her own weakness, she felt rattled and Asterion hadn't even done anything. Yet.

Standing in the elevator, he smirked, “Clearly, we are somewhere in the tower,” he teased her and noticed how her hand that he was holding was beginning to feel cold, clammy, and showing how nervous she was. He didn’t realize that he was making her nervous but that made sense. He was a stranger, they were holding hands, he was being way too happy, and he nodded his head at the thought of that while the elevator continued to go up.

This was when the elevator opened and he stepped out, leading her down the hall, and taking her down a stairwell. “If you were on a mission last night, would you not still be on a mission tonight?” he was being playful with his tone while leading her down a stairwell that went right to an elevator before he swiped his card. Stepping into it and leading her in before pressing a button.

”Well, yes, but that's more of a play-by-ear thing. You know, ways to avoid uhm, torture, and such.”

Ayla mentally kicked herself. Her decorum she usually carried was entirely lost. Walking into blatant unknown, physically and spiritually, did that. Her eyes could only stare as the scenery unfolded around her. She really had no idea she was under a tower, but-

”I really should have guessed. This is your home, isn't it?” She said, wracking her mind on the file Ezra had given her on Asterion.

The man laughed a little, “I do not care to torture people. People find it fun, I guess. I do not care for it,” he shook his head. “I rather just kill someone and get it over with if that is what the situation calls for,” he confessed while the elevator opened to the ground floor of the tower and he led her right out into the lobby. It revealed Asterion looking ahead while Ayla was just giving him the most shocked look ever.

Good morning, Mitzie. If anyone asks if I am here. Tell them I am out,” he waved his free hand.

Mitzie smiled, “Yes, sir! What are you doing exactly?

Leaving the tower,” he left it at that while leading Ayla right out the front doors of the tower and his eyes shut for a second with how bright it was. His twilight blues opened up and looked down at her, “Yes, physically, I do live there,” he looked back into the tower before leading Ayla down the street.

However, I would consider Nickel…” and he thought about it. “And now 93rd and Yellowbrick as my homes and the people there as part of my family,” he mentioned casually while continuing to lead Ayla down the street.

A half-chuckle dared to leave Ayla's lips. ”So, with that logic, it's fair to say all of Nickel is my cell?”

It was strange, to say the least, to be outside again, walking carefully in her bare feet, the train of her dress gathered in her hand with the water bottle so it didn't drag. Glancing at other people going about their business. They had no idea. And, even though she could feel stray-away impulses demanding her to break away from Asterion and make a run for it, something else told her that was simply an incredibly poor decision.

Well, at least the streets were clean. The only thing she was stepping on was smooth cement.

Asterion's mention of merely killing his problems rattled around in the back of her mind. ”...What are you planning on doing with me, Mr. Kairo?”

The man seemed to think about it for a second, “You could say that, yes,” he agreed with her. “I rather Nickel be seen as a safe haven of sorts than a cell, if we are being honest with each other,” he found that amusing. Yet, he thought about Krish and how he always referred to the tower as Asterion’s cell. Quite a few people that worked around him would jokingly say that or bring it up. He kept himself inside too much for the most part or hidden from most of the world but he did get out and help his people too.

While he was leading her into a better part of Nickel, they entered through a gated community, and he seemed to look around. There was no trash on the streets in the community, laughter could be heard, and people seemed to be relaxing without a worry. For the most part. People in Nickel didn’t have to worry about much even when there was danger. The guards were trained to deal with issues. “It is a surprise,” he teased.

Asterion led her up to an area that looked like a park, it had grass, trees, a few flower beds, a few benches and sitting areas, and a playground. Children were playing and having a wonderful time. He slipped off his shoes and socks without using his hands and stepped onto the grass. “I want to show you Nickel, and I want to show you that life can be good. Better than just doing jobs. Moving pieces on the board,” he stated, encouraging her to follow him onto the grass, but he let go of her hand. Not pulling her up with him but letting her choose to do so.

He took a handful of steps onto the grass before turning towards her and looking at her. He gestured his hands out.

Despite the weather saying it was going to rain the majority of that day, somehow, there was a small sliver of sunshine piercing through the clouds, and the locals were taking full advantage of it.

Ayla stared, her eyes going wide as she saw it. Greenery in Nocturnia wasn't often seen, after all. And she couldn't remember the last time she'd seen grass, never mind enjoying it.

Before she stared flatly at Asterion. How did he…? What gave her away?

Her worries, suspicions and doubts melted away the moment her bare foot touched grass. Toes curling in the blades, before she took another step forward, lifting her dress up a little so it didn't trail. The water bottle, of course, was left by Asterion's shoes.

As Ayla stepped a little further into the grass, she slowed, stopped, her eyes far away. Flashes of images of rivers of honey and wine, of pink grass, warmth from the stream, sitting and listening to the sounds.

A single diamond rivulet escaped her eye. Then her other eye. And she let go for her dress in an effort to hide her eyes, pressing her hands to her face, taking in a long, shaky breath.

The sensation of grass under her feet was her happy place. It was what brought her home.

Asterion did not expect the woman to start crying and he looked around to make sure no one was paying attention. Would she be embarrassed? He wasn’t sure then she started trying to hide her eyes. The man stepped closer to her, “Are you okay?” his voice stayed low while he cautiously approached her. He wasn’t sure why she was crying then he realized that many people hadn’t touched grass before. Some of the parts in Nickel had grass and that’s because of the many different efforts of him and his team trying to make the communities good and keep people in here that wanted to be productive citizens.

He glanced up when he felt a chill and realized that storm clouds were beginning to come into the zone — that was nice — and he stood right beside Ayla. “Do you need a hug?” Asterion wasn’t sure if she wanted to be touched at all, especially when getting emotional. Maybe leaving the tower was not a good idea?

Ayla took another steadying breath, gritting her teeth for a moment, before she wiped away her eyes, trying to regain her composure.

”I'm fine… I'm okay.”

Before she glanced up at Asterion. ”...Thank you. You don't owe me a single kindness, yet…” She glanced over at the park, sniffling as she smiled. Actually smiled. ”Yet you did this for me. You're right, maybe I have been working too hard recently…”

He looked around, “I am trying to do this for everyone,” he confessed. “And I brought you out here because you showed that you were not just causing problems to cause problems. You are listening to orders. You have a job to do. Everyone does. I understand that,” he explained himself with a sigh while looking around. His eyes landed on a few children who were running around the playground while their parents sat on the benches and talked.

I want more of Nocturnia. I want everyone to be able to experience laughter, experience grass beneath their feet, and some form of peace,” he continued to speak without hesitation while he looked back at Ayla.

And he gave her a half smile, “I try to forgive the actions of people. We are humans. We all have done things that we are not proud of. We all need a little understanding at times,” he felt raindrops beginning to land down on them. The coolness spotted his skin, hair, and clothing only lightly but it would come down harder within minutes, he bet.

Would you consider making changes so your job would align with creating more of this for others?” he wondered what her response would be. He had no understanding of Ezra, for the most part, but he assumed the man wasn’t good. At least from Ayla’s words of having to make people move and do things. It sounded like he wanted chaos.

Ayla bit her lip, looking away for a moment. She thought about it, about the possibility of being a bit more peaceful. Considered her words carefully, looking at Asterion, before she straightened up a bit, giving him a pained look.

”As nice as that sounds, I feel… well, in an ideal world it's possible. But-

“-To claim the source of power, the thing that makes gyfts… tick. You'll have to fight Ezra for it.

“Unless you make him a convincing offer.

“He keeps you busy fighting each other so you won't find it.”


She could feel the rain dropping down again, causing dampness to her hair and chilling her bare shoulders.

”It's only a matter of time before it is discovered. And if you want any hope of leaving Nocturnia… you'll need it.”

His eyes seemed to grow heavy with thought when he replayed what she just said to him in his head. To claim the source of power, the thing that makes gifts… tick. You’ll have to fight Ezra for it. What the hell was this guy up to and doing? “I do not want to control others' gyfts,” he shook his head. That was not his priority. “And what does Ezra plan on doing with it?” His tone sounded somewhat serious.

Also, why wait for a perfect world? Life is too short for that, Ayla. If you ever decide you want to come be a citizen of Nickel, tell me,” Asterion offered. His eyes wandered around as people were beginning to leave the park because the rain was starting to get heavier.

Extending his hand out, he allowed droplets to start collecting in his palm, “I do not feel like Ezra plans to do anything good with that source of power. Is he?” his voice sounded like he wasn’t completely there while he was in thought.

Ayla grimaced slightly. ”He exploits the sources’ run-off to create gyft-based weapons. But to actually exploit the source? That's… a very expensive process. Ezra hasn't done that. I don't think he plans to use the source itself, he's already fairly powerful on his own. I believe he's just… Safeguarding it. I saw him, long ago, talking with the one they call the Beggar Prince. So, I think they have some sort of deal…”

The man continued to think while Ayla spoke to him of this, “By the tone of your voice, your pauses, and how you are telling me this. You doubt him. You are not certain he will not use it. Are you?” his hand came back towards him and stopped catching the raindrops. His twilight eyes heavily focus on Ayla.

Ayla pursed her lips. ”He will certainly use whatever means necessary if he feels threatened…”

Why are you telling me this, Ayla?

”Because the Door has already been discovered. And it's only a matter of time before a new game, a new race, begins. Better to get ahead of it, and see if a peaceful resolution can be reached, rather than do nothing and see us blow each other up…”

Asterion didn’t want to know this information to an extent. There was nothing that he could do about it, especially right now. If the man known as Ezra was using the source to make weapons that were gyft based, having access to this source of power, safeguarding it, and having a deal with at least one other about it — what was he able to do with such information? If he was fairly powerful on his own. What could he do? Asterion knew he was quite weak when it came to being someone with a gyft. Others could kill people within seconds of using their abilities. He could just take over others bodies, read their minds, search internally, and sometimes grasp the knowledge on using gyfts through other people.

Shaking his head, “Do you know who the Beggar Prince is? By any other name?” He wondered.

Ayla paused, wracking her brain for a moment, before she shook her head. ”Unfortunately I don't. Only his alias. And that he's as old as the day gyfts arrived in Nocturnia, but it doesn't show on his face.”

The woman began speaking vaguely again and his eyes sharpened towards her. His eyes were not threatening, only a tad suspicious, and very thoughtful. She clearly wanted to play games. Her and her leader. He shook his head with disappointment, “From my understanding, you are working for someone that does not want peace. That wants to watch everyone blow up. Acting like this is a board game with pieces that he forcefully has to move and you seem to be a very important figure in that game of his,” Asterion spoke evenly while glancing around before his eyes landed on her.

You cannot play both sides, Ayla. You either have to want better for Nocturnia and do your best to get it better or you can continue in helping the destruction of all the lives in this city,” he sighed. The sigh was heavy with emotion that showed he was disappointed and let down once again by his own thoughts.

Ayla pouted a bit. ”That's what I'm trying to do. And I have tried to speak as plainly as possible. When you see the Door for yourself, you'll understand.” She crossed her arms, momentarily vexed.

Gesturing, “Come on. We should get out of the rain, we do not want to get sick,” by this time, Asterion’s hair was weighing down, his shoulders were soaked, and droplets were soaked into his clothing in a natural pattern of rainfall. He is as old as the day gyfts arrived but it doesn’t show on his face, those words played over and over in his eyes. Beggar Prince.

Ayla's dress was rather soaked at this point, and she gathered the extra fabric in one hand, prepared to follow Asterion.

”I have tried to give you an advantage, a way to navigate the coming storm with a little more finesse. But it is up to you if you take my advice or not.”

She flashed a knowing grimace. ”Ezra won't care, either way.”

Seeing the grimace on her face, he shook his head, “I have no advantage in that fight even with the information you have given me. There are too many variables. Too many…” he was trying to think of what he should say but he fell silent while continuing to walk with Ayla before waving at the guard at the gate.

And if I take your advice or not, I do not know how much trust I can give you on the information that you provided,” he explained. “I cannot go in blind to anything, Ayla. That is not how the world works and if you do such things, you end up not in this world,” he chuckled a little as if that was supposed to be a joke of some kind.

The man continued to walk, “Are you going to willingly come back to the tower with me or am I going to have to fight you?” he casually asked. “I cannot willingly let you leave, yet,” he added.

Ayla was a bit disappointed. Perhaps she had not spoken well enough, or forced her opinion enough. But, at the end of the day, she was the enemy. And Asterion would be crazy to actually trust her.

But, she did pause, her feet hesitating to move further. The rain poured down in between them.

”Will you keep me here indefinitely?” She asked.

Asterion realized that he left his shoes and socks at the edge of the park but he decided it was a waste of time to go back and get them. His expression tied into thought when she asked such a question. “Do you want to stay here indefinitely?” That was such a strange thing to ask the man that was keeping you captive but he did strange things all the time — The Nocturnia Affect. The city was always putting people into positions that they might never react in such a way in, if they were not in this city, but he wouldn’t think about it too much.

He might have been a little confused by such a question though he would hear her out. There was no reason to give a reply until understanding why she was asking such a thing.

There was the most delicate narrowing of her eyes. She was freezing. She was wet. She wouldn't mind going back inside, but to be locked up again…

”No one wants to be be a prisoner, Mr. Kairo.”

Asterion continued to look at her, “Think of yourself as a guest, Ayla. A guest of sorts. You are a guest that cannot leave, currently, but you are a guest nonetheless,” his voice was unmoving and a little stern in tone at this moment in time.

However, I was not planning on returning you to your cell. Not yet,” he confessed. “Follow me so we can get you into something not as wet,” he casually continued walking towards the tower while glancing back at Ayla.

Ayla's fists white-knuckled around her dress, her muscles tensing. Before, with a deep sigh, she resigned herself. Gathering up her dress again, she shuffled after Asterion, the sidewalk now slicked with rain.

Goosebumps collected over her arms, and she couldn't feel her toes. Seven degrees weather would do that. She tried not to think of her situation, being a ‘guest’. She tried not to think of fighting her way out. She tried not to think of her cell waiting for her.

Her insides twisted. Having someone with this much power over her, it certainly made her nervous, humiliated. Maybe… The right opportunity hadn't presented itself. Right, right. Maybe, she just needed a better opportunity.

That's what she tried to tell herself, as she followed after Asterion.

It was such an odd sensation for his feet to be getting cold but his body off-shooting how it was processing the little pin-pricks of pain and numbness. There was a tight rope that his body danced on when it came to his nerves and pain receptors because of his ability — constantly jumping in and out and bringing issues in and out with him — that was when he stepped. Not wrong. Just stepped down and it felt like a lightning bolt of pain surged through his leg and up through his body into his head. Asterion stopped when that happened and bent over a little, almost looking like he was going to throw up for a few seconds before he inhaled deeply, and covered his mouth with his hand.

Once his system seemed to reboot as if nothing happened at all. He began walking again, before pulling out his phone, “Are you still at work?

Can you get me a few cloth options,” he glanced back at Ayla.

Something that is modest and classy, please,” Asterion walked into the tower again with Ayla while waving at Mitzie.

She looks smaller, petite, though I would say she probably wants to be comfortable. I would say get her medium or more loose fitting. Yes. That will work. Thank you,” then he hung up the phone and he grabbed out his keycard to open up the stairwell that was somewhat around the corner and out of direct sight. Opening the door and gesturing for her to go in and putting his phone back into his pocket.

Someone is bringing you clothes,” Asterion vocalized even though that wasn’t hard to tell from the conversation he was having on the phone.

Ayla was staring at him with a tempered look. He had appeared… in pain outside. Just briefly. Whatever it was had passed by, it seemed.

Staring at him carefully, she entered the stairwell, her dress leaving puddles of water behind her. She stared at it for a moment. Very unclassy. But, it was much better being inside. The heating of the building already felt better, though her dress kept her body temperature down a number of degrees. She refused to let her teeth chatter, though.

”...Thank you.” She said, still watching him carefully. ”That's the fourth kind thing you've done for me.”

It made trying to find an opportunity to escape just a little harder.

Closing the door behind him, it sounded as if it locked in place, and he stared at her, “Is it kind or is it treating you like a human?” He questioned while approaching her closer, reaching out as if he was going to grab her dress, but he stopped himself, and looked at her for a second. That was when he scooped her up without any issue, holding her bridal style, and walking up the stairs.

Ayla’s eyes went wide, ”W-wait-”

You know. It is quite odd to wear such a dress. It is a lovely dress, do not get me wrong, but I would recommend a dress that is as classy yet not as… binding. You could have probably escaped if you did not have such a dress on,” he teased her while a crooked grin appeared on his face and he continued to walk up the stairs.

Ayla was a bit stiff in his arms, still staring at him wide. Before she pouted a bit. ”Says the one who held a gun to my back.”

He picked her up because he was impatient and didn’t want to be waiting for her to drag her dress up the stairs while it was wet. This would be quicker. Asterion then thought about it, “Why do you and everyone else say that?” he questioned. “I had another guest not that long ago say similar things. That I do kind things but I do not see them that way. Kindness is the act of being friendly, generous, or whatever. One of your men said something similar to when I gave them the options to live and incorporate themselves into a balanced society or not. They all took it, becoming citizens of Nickel…” that was when his expression sharpened in thought. “I lost what I was trying to say. I was going somewhere with this… mhm…” Asterion sounded slightly disappointed with himself.

Ayla tilted her head slightly as she was carried. So not all of her boss’ men had died, and hadn't been executed like those on TV. That was good, at least.

”You might not see it as kind, but there are many ways to treat a prisoner. A lot of them are cruel. No food, poor conditions, torture, beratment.”

She glanced up at him. ”These things are very common in our world. So, you not doing these… it's very fair of you.”

I might have held a gun to your head in that restaurant though you held control over my entire body,” he chimed in with a chuckle. It was interesting to have your whole body frozen and listening to someone else’s mouth like it was natural. He was surprised that he was able to break out of it but he honestly believed that he only did that because June was there — anyone else in danger like that? That didn’t matter. It would have been different.

Getting to a stairwell door, he opened it by nudging it, and entering a hallway. Walking down it, “I do partake in those things, depending on how the person is, but I see no reason to treat you that way. You did not kill anyone in that restaurant. You only threatened. There is no reason to show you cruelty when you were not cruel yourself,” Asterion never understood why people would go overboard with torturing someone even to death. There had been times when he did those things but it was never on people who did not deserve it.

Ayla nodded, ”Then I was right to go non-lethal…”

Setting her down when he got to a room door, he opened it up to a beautiful lounge and he gestured for her to go inside. “There should be drinks in the mini fridge and snacks around it as well, if you want anything, help yourself,” he offered while flicking the light on. There would be a few outfits already laid out on the back of one of the couches, option one, option two, option three, and a more comfortable option that was more fitted for sleeping in, nightgown.

He stood there, “You will be locked in this room until I get back. I need to get out of these wet clothes. Make yourself comfortable,” he informed her of his plans.

Ayla glanced over the room, taking a few steps within. The dresses caught her eye immediately, and her stomach rumbled at the mention of food. She hadn't eaten since lunch yesterday, as dinner had, of course, been skipped.

The room was beautiful. A beautiful little cage. She turned to Asterion, understanding his need to switch out of his own clothes, but also had the lightest smile on her face, figuring something out.

”You're treating me like a pet and less like a prisoner. But yes, you needn't worry, I will wait here.”

A curl to the one side of his lips could be seen at her comment. “I have always wanted a pet but I would be such a bad owner. I do not have time to feed, water, or take care of a pet,” he teased though there was a little bit of seriousness in his words and tone. “Do not worry. I will not keep you unless you give me reason to,” he chuckled a little before closing and locking the door with his keycard. Going up to his penthouse. Since it would be colder out, he decided to throw on a more dress-casual turtle neck look before going back to Ayla in one of the lower rooms of the tower.

Ayla felt her stomach twist at Asterion's quiet confirmation. She really was some sort of glorified pet here.

As the door shut and locked behind her, she found she had, unfortunately, lost her appetite, somehow. So she skipped raiding the mini-fridge and instead went over to the dresses set out for her. They were actually all very nice, and she was torn, looking at option two. But eventually, she settled with options three, attracted to the print and the feathery long sleeves.

She went off to a discreet corner of the room to change, her gown from last night falling in a wet puddle around her. Changing in to option three was instantly refreshing. The clothing was dry, and had an immediate warming effect. It was a near perfect fit, too.

Ayla did a little twirl in the room, appreciating her dress, before setting her wet gown on the floor, stretched out. Perhaps it would dry this way. No need to get the couches wet, after all. Then, she went to sit on one of the couches, eyes affixed to the rainy windows and foggy streets below.

Roughly half an hour later, he would be back, and knocked at the door. There was not a hesitation or wait for him to go in, he was knocking to warn Ayla that he was coming in, and he opened the door and closed it behind him. Looking around the room, “I am going to ask a few more questions but is there anything you want? Food? Water? A toy?” he was playing around because she referred to how he was treating her like a pet.

Ayla made a slight grimace, standing from the couch. ”Perhaps I ought to regret saying something now.”

Before she shook her head, hands clasped in front of her. ”I am fine for now, thank you. You're welcome to ask your questions. And… Thank you for the dress.”

Asterion rolled his eyes, “I am only playing with you. You are not a pet,” he confirmed when seeing her grimace. “I do not keep pets nor do I keep prisoners. I only have guests. Whether or not how willing that guest was to enter the tower was up to them,” he scuffed at the grimace of the woman. Everyone had to play a game. Be pieces on a board in people’s eyes and they took that so seriously.

Fine. Let us get back to business,” he sighed at such words before walking over to the coffee table that had the remote on it. He grabbed the remote and turned on the television. Changing the channel a few times before getting to a channel that he could pause, play, rewind, and skip forward. Quickly, pictures of Asterion brutally slitting the throats of the men in Yellowbrick went by — it slowed down to real time. He stared at it as if he was in a trance while watching himself cut the throats of the men. His brows furrowed at such a sight. His eyes looked like he was looking at a stranger, someone that he disapproved of, and he glanced away as if he was bothered by such a sight before quickening the footage up, skipping it, and a handful of frames showed glimpses of what was happening around the tower before he got to the footage he wanted.

Pressing play, it was the footage of last night at the Golden Palace. “You have a remarkable ability, Ayla. It was somewhat invigorating on how you can control me. It reminded me of my own,” he glanced over with a smirk. “Though I am not here to praise your ability. I am here to ask you about Glade Brey. Where is he or where do you think your leader has him? He did not go back to his apartment and I have questions for him that I want answered,” Asterion explained.

And…” he glanced back up at the television screen. “I want you to tell me more about the Dark Aces, about Ezra, about everything. All the hiding spots. How powerful your group is. What I should be looking for. And you said Ezra is powerful,” His twilight eyes locked onto her lighter orbs. A flash of pinkish-purple went through his eyes. “What is his gyft?

Ayla appeared to pause in thought for a long moment, before her mannerisms changed entirely. She smiled wide, orbous eyes crinkling.

”Now you're finally asking the right questions, Mr. Kairo. Shame this little soiree is done.”

And just like that, Ayla appeared to vanish into thin air. At that same moment, a helicopter roared, diving down in front of the windows of the lounge. A door gunner aimed a machine gun right into the heart of the lounge, and opened fire. The bullets shattered through the glass, tearing holes through furniture and walls. They were aimed at waist height, so Asterion would have a sliver chance of survival if he dove to the floor.

Seeing Ayla disappear like that caused his brows to furrow. Trying to figure out who had a power like that — must be Ezra or someone else on his team. That was when he started to hear yelling from outside but before he could fully turn towards the window, glass shattered, and pain flared up through the side of his leg and hip. Multiple bullets cut through his flesh.

All that pain at once along with his body reacting, he ended up tripping over the leg that got shot multiple times which caused bullets to strike all over his body. Lying on the floor, he crawled to behind the couch and by that time, the windows were shutting with their protective metal sheets.

Guards outside started shooting at the helicopter and a few threw grenades. One ended up catching and getting onto the inside of the helicopter before blowing the whole thing up. The helicopter could be heard exploding outside and people were freaking out. Asterion couldn’t process everything, his body was shaking so much, and he was trying to grab his mobile device to alert but he found it to be destroyed. Blood was everywhere and his vision was getting hazy and fading. He heard a few things that sounded like voices. Concern. Yelling? He couldn’t tell. Not really. That was when everything began to go cold and everything went dark.

Everything was ruined in that room for the most part, blood was everywhere, and it all belonged to Asterion Kairo. The men that rushed into that room once getting the door unlocked found their leader bleeding from everywhere, blood was on his lips, and his body was beginning to seize. Would they be able to get the medics to him in time?

Meanwhile, invisible to those who were too close, Ezra had the hand of Ayla with two armed men behind them, walking quickly to a limousine that just drove up. Ten seconds later, they were gone.



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The Ragged Tavern, Corlet

A few Thorned Roses tossed drinks back in the early morning at the Ragged Tavern in Corlet, a nice little hole-in-the-wall where most could sit unnoticed. One of these Thorned Roses, Willy Castles, a thin-framed, dark-haired man whom few would recognize as the one who set up the impossible deal with the Iron Roses spy the other day, stood from the group.

”I'mma order us another round of drinks and some grub. I'm famished.” He declared to a round of ‘hurrah’ and ‘you're the man, Willy’.

So he made his way from the booth to the bar, only a little sauced so early in the morning. ”Boss, we'll need three more whiskies and three more rum and cokes. And an order of fries, and an order of nachos.”

The bartender nodded, ”You're got it! And for yourself?”

Willy smiled, shaking his head. ”Almost forgot me, haha. Another one of those scotches.”

”And a scotch, you got it!” The bartender nodded, and gestured for Willy to sit. And that he did, drumming his fingers on the counter as he waited for his order to be complete.

The tavern door creaked open, admitting a rush of cool morning air. Emilia slipped inside without ceremony, her movements a ballet of elegance and discretion. Dressed in a sleek black dress that hugged her figure just enough to suggest refinement without drawing undue attention, she commanded presence without the need for ostentation. The hem of the dress fell just below her knees, its capped sleeves lending an air of understated elegance, while an oxblood leather jacket draped about her shoulders, softening the incisive contours of her form.

Her heels made only the faintest sound against the worn wooden floor as she crossed the room, her gaze flitting over the myriad denizens with the practiced nonchalance of a seasoned observer. If anyone noticed her arrival, they said nothing—she carried herself with the kind of confidence that discouraged idle curiosity. Without a word, she slipped into the seat beside Willy, settling in as though she belonged there.

For a moment, she said nothing, letting the din of conversation and clinking glass swallow the beat of silence between them. Then, as if merely continuing an unfinished conversation, she murmured, “You drink too early.

Willy chuckled at that, pushing his dark hair back into a tousled mess. ”A couple drinks never hurt anyone, doll.”

He glanced over, looking at her, really looking at her. Then his eyes narrowed in confusion. The red-ish hair, could it be…? ”Wait, do I know you?”

Emilia’s lips quirked into a delicate smirk, one that hovered tantalizingly on the edge of mirth and something far more biting. “Perhaps,” she mused, her tone a silky cadence, “or maybe I simply have one of those unforgettable faces.” With a graceful shift, she crossed her legs, her gaze drifting to the barkeep before returning to Willy.

But let's not get distracted. We need to have a little chat, you and I, about some… mutual acquaintances.

Willy stared a little longer before his eyes widened. A hand inched toward the gun holstered within his jacket.

”Emilia Castiglione. If this is what I think it is… I'm afraid I can't help you. So, I suggest you walk back out that door you came in.”

Emilia exhaled a quiet, almost languid sigh, the kind that spoke of mild amusement laced with something colder—an irritation too insignificant to be worth more than a passing thought. Willy’s bravado was nothing new, nothing unexpected, and she treated it as such. Her gaze remained unwavering, undisturbed by the firearm between them, as irrelevant to her as the air between breaths. Instead, she leaned forward, just enough to collapse the distance between them, her voice slipping into something softer than a whisper—yet no less lethal.

You’re rattled,” she murmured, her words almost pitying, almost indulgent. “Your pulse gave you away the second you set eyes on me. And your hand—” her gaze flickered, the briefest glance at the betraying tremor before settling back onto him with cold, immutable certainty—“it’s shaking, Willy. Hardly the steadiness of a man with nothing to conceal.” Her tone was not mocking, nor did it demand a rebuttal. It simply was, an irrefutable observation laid bare in the dim light between them.

His fingers stiffened over his jacket, but Emilia's demeanour remained unruffled. She tilted her head ever so slightly, her gaze shifting—reading the minute details that told her more than Willy would ever dare admit outright. The minute dilation of his pupils, the taut line etched upon his jaw, the erratic hitch of his breath—all crafted a narrative far more vivid than mere confession could encapsulate. She saw it, dissected it, and laid it bare between them with the ease of a seasoned player dismantling a novice’s game.

Vincent’s got his claws in you, hasn’t he?” Emilia’s voice dipped, deceptively soft and insidiously coaxing. “It must be maddening. Bowing and scraping for a man who wouldn’t hesitate to carve you open the second you outlive your usefulness.” A pause, her words winding tighter, pressing in. “But the leash is fraying, isn’t it?” Her eyes narrowed and her next words were but a whisper before the guillotine’s drop.

Does he know yet?

Willy stared at Emilia for a long moment, before he shook his head. He was indeed rattled, but- ”You're got it all wrong, doll. It's not my boss I'm afraid of. It's you. Speaking of which-”

Willy gave a low whistle, and immediately, the other Thorned Roses at the table looked over in his direction and came over. They crowded Emilia, obviously trying to get into her personal space as they stood over her.

”Willy, you didn't say you had a new pet. Why don't we take her home with us?” One of the men said, giving Emilia a threatening look.

Emilia didn’t so much as blink. If the prowling figures around her unsettled her, she did not deign to show it. Instead, she let a slow smile creep onto her lips—one that hovered in the liminal space between amusement and menace, a silent harbinger of consequences yet to come.

Gentlemen,” she purred, her voice a languid ribbon of sound, her gaze drifting indolently between them before anchoring itself back on Willy. “I do hope you’re not under the impression that this—” she gestured vaguely at their circling postures, “is a productive use of my time.

One of the men stepped closer, his leer spreading like a stain across his face. “What else should we do with you, sweetheart? You walked into the wrong bar.

Emilia’s laughter unfurled, rich and unhurried, a sound that seemed to coil around the room like smoke. It was not the nervous titter of someone outmatched, nor the hollow chuckle of someone feigning confidence. It was genuine, velvety, and utterly disarming, the kind of laugh that made lesser men falter and second-guess their footing.

William,” she murmured as if speaking to a child who had just made a terrible, terrible mistake. “Did you really think I came here unprepared?

The moment stretched just long enough for discomfort to take root.

Then, she struck. Not with force, not with the kind of open violence these men expected—but with words sharpened into scalpels.

I hear tuition has gone up this year. Private schools, always such a hassle.” Emilia exhaled, feigning sympathy. “It must be difficult, keeping up with payments. And I do admire the effort, Willy. After all, what kind of brother would you be if you didn’t try?

She tapped a finger against her chin as if turning over a particularly amusing thought. Then, with a tilt of her head, she delivered the final incision.

The only thing is… when you start pulling money from the wrong places, people eventually notice, don’t they?

Willy frantically clamped a hand over Emilia's mouth, ”Shut up, will you!?”

The men around Willy gave him odd looks. ”The hell is she talking about, Willy?”

”Nothing, nothing-” Willy waved their concerns away, before he eyed their order in its way. ”Listen, why don't ya'll sit back down and enjoy the grub, and I'll walk miss sunshine outta here, m’kay?”

”Whatever, Willy.”

So, Willy soon had Emilia by the arm, half dragging, half-leading her out of the establishment. As they reached the door, he leaned in. ”There's no way you know about that. No one, no one, knows about that.”

Indeed, he had been selling off Sugarcrush to pushers, taking the dough, and forging the books to make it all look legit. He'd be a dead man if Vincent ever knew…

As Willy's grasp tightened, Emilia let him think he held the reins, allowing him to savour the fleeting illusion of control. Yet, the moment the tavern door closed behind them, she surrendered to her own volition, effortlessly extricating her arm from his grasp.

Then, she straightened the sleeve of her jacket as if brushing away something insignificant. Like him.

No one knows about that?” she echoed, her voice carrying just enough incredulity to make him doubt himself.

Then she smiled.

Not a smirk. Not that teasing, razor-edged thing she’d wielded inside the bar. A smile meant to unravel him.

Oh, Willy.” Emilia took a step forward, her voice slipping into something lower, softer—something that wormed beneath the skin. “You should know better than to think you’re the only man who knows how to lie.

Her head tilted, her eyes drinking into his every reaction like a connoisseur savouring a fine wine. He was already spiralling. Good.

Here’s what’s going to happen,” she continued smoothly. “You’re going to tell me where Delacroix is.

He gritted his teeth, fear in his eyes. ”You know I can't tell you that.”

Can’t? Or won’t? Because from here it seems more like the latter than the former.

Willy pressed a hand to his face, before he growled, ”Fine, fine! He's in the basement of the Arakasa Tower. Not like knowing will do you any good…”

Emilia’s smile deepened, unfurling like a slow revelation, steeped in the quiet satisfaction of inevitability. Because Of course.

So Vincent was keeping Mathieu close. Not some obscure warehouse on the outskirts, not a safe house buried in the ruins of forgotten streets—but right under his nose, in the heart of White Pine.

Emilia filed the information away, her mind already moving several steps ahead, mapping out the logistics. Security. Access points. Surveillance. Who was on Vincent’s payroll, and more importantly, who wasn’t?

But first-

She took another step forward, her presence pressing into the man in front of her without so much as a touch.

Now, William,” she mused, her tone almost affectionate, “I’m feeling generous, so let me offer you a piece of advice.

Emilia leaned in, her breath warm against his cheek.

Disappear.

Her smile sharpened, a glint of teeth beneath the crimson curve of her lips.

Because the next time someone comes looking for you, it won’t be me. I can promise you that.
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Hidden 5 days ago Post by The Savant
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Avatar of The Savant

The Savant The darkening

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𝔼𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕪! 𝔼𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕪! 𝔼𝕞𝕖𝕣𝕘𝕖𝕟𝕔𝕪!

A dash of music




All the commotion, explosions, and the tower going into heavy lockdown was not something Krish was expecting to happen but when did peace ever linger long in Nocturnia? He was rushing down to where he knew his best friend and chosen brother was — he saw him on the cameras — and his body was shaking. Krish couldn’t control the adrenaline rush that he was having or the emotions that were overwhelming his body to the point that he felt like he was going to throw up, scream, or something. He was going to do something but he didn’t know what.

Running down the halls and moving through the corridors, he was trying to text Juniper something that made sense, and that would alert her.






Her ungloved hands were covered in blood as she pressed down on Asterion’s abdomen, her breath coming in sharp gasps. The bullet wounds — three, four? Maybe more? — had turned his torso and the rest of his body into a battlefield of torn flesh and seeping red. He was slipping fast. Too fast. “Stay with us!” June barked, fighting the tremor in her voice. She could hear the others scrambling around her, shouting for more gauze, more pressure, anything to buy time. The air reeked of gunpowder and copper. Everything was happening way too fast.

Asterion’s breathing came in ragged, shallow bursts, each weaker than the last. His face was pale, slick with sweat, his body twitching under her hands. His pulse — barely there. She fumbled for the emergency transfusion kit, her fingers numb with exhaustion and fear.

Get that line open! NOW!” she snapped at Lian, who was struggling with the IV bag, hands shaking almost as badly as hers.

The needle missed once.

Twice.

I — I got it,” Lian stammered, finally piercing the vein. A slow drip of blood began flowing into Asterion’s arm. Too slow. Not enough.

June did not realize how tense she was, her teeth clenched, and she was reaching for a surgical kit. They didn’t have time to wait for other equipment to move him. Emergency surgery had to happen here, now, in a room that was far from sterile, with not the proper tools, or procedures, and way too many unknowns.

Another spurt of blood bubbled from Asterion’s side. June bit back a curse as she grabbed a clamp and pressed deep into the wound. Asterion jerked, a weak moan escaping his lips. Good. He is still there. Still fighting.

The power flickered. The overhead lights sputtered once, then twice, before plunging the room into semi-darkness. It wasn’t bright outside either. Rain was beating on the side of the building and onto the shattered glass that was trapped inside of the carpet.

No, no, no —” June’s voice cracked. Her mind was racing. Without proper lights, proper suction, tools, without stable vitals, and all the other variables was making this look like a losing battle.

I need something so I can see,” she gestured out her hand as if someone could read her mind. The people that worked with her and under her looked confused and unknowing. “Get me a flashlight!” she barked.

Within seconds, multiple beams of light cut through the darkness. Not perfect, but it would have to do. She sucked in a breath, steadying herself, pressing forward in her mission. Asterion’s pulse fluttering beneath her fingers.

We’re losing him,” Lian whispered.

Not yet. Not yet.

Krish was standing off to the side, frozen, staring, and absolutely not processing this situation at all. His brighter orbs looked traumatized while the medical team and June worked on his chosen little brother. How could anyone do this? What monsters did this to him? He couldn’t stop shaking and trembling. “J-j-june — is-i-dere- I?” Nothing that he wanted to say was coming out.

Yes, you can come here and hold this,” without thinking, he stepped closer, and June pulled him down onto his knees and made him hold layers of gauze onto opened wounds and had him apply pressure.
Going to grab an instrument from her surgical bag, her hand was shaking, and she glanced back at Asterion. “I’m sorry, Aster,” She knew this would make his own healing process work ten times harder and not as well. She put her hands on him and focused in. Knowing that she wouldn’t be able to make everything perfect again… she would be able to stabilize him this way.



Trying her best under so much shock and stress, she watched as her powers practically fizzled before her eyes, it helped some. The bleeding wasn’t as quick. It sounded like Asterion might have been breathing a little better. “Lian, be ready to help me,” her voice was shaky while tears started rolling down her cheeks.

Multiple individuals, Lian, Krish, and others all shouted her name — “June!!!” — a feeble attempt to tell her no or to stop. Before anyone could take her hands off Asterion, she used her abilities again.







Everything hurts. Why does everything hurt? What happened? Tears began to stream down his face. He wasn't alive anymore was he? What was happening? This didn't feel right. He wasn't sleeping. He wasn't in his body. It didn't feel like his body as his hands went to grab himself. He wasn't himself. Anyone!? What is happening!? PLEASE ANSWER ME! Asterion began to scream but his voice wasn't his. It was but it was his from a very long time ago. An age that he barely could remember.

Looking down, everything dark came to life, and ripples began to leave his immediate area while tears began to drop into the dark liquid that he was standing on. MOM! he heard a voice that was eerily familiar to his shrieking out in pain for his mother. An almost forgotten memory in his head and that was when the liquid began to unbalance. Everything began to consume him like quick sand. He began to struggle as he tried to get out of it by himself but everything consumed him and forced him under the surface.

Feeling all the air coming out of his lungs, he began to struggle, and he continued to try and swim to the surface but he couldn't tell what was up, down, right, left, or anything. It was an infinite illusion as he got sucked into a whirl pool and was swooped into a very cold current before he was spat out and feeling so weak. I am sorry. I am so sorry. I did... I... I failed, whimpering cries left him as he laid there on the ground. Hiding his face in his arms while beginning to cry.

You didn't fail. Everyone's time comes sooner or later and you tried so hard. I am so proud of you for trying, a familiar voice echoed out and he raised his head. A beautiful and ghostly woman stood in front of him and he found himself sitting up and going quiet. It was his mom, when she was healthy, and he shook his head. You are not here. This is not real. I... you... he couldn't find the words.

Within a blink of an eye she was yards away from him and now she was right in front of him. Cupping his cheeks in her hands. If this is real or not. Does it matter? You were always such an imaginative boy and you haven't failed. Not yet, it was like it was on cue that he could start hearing voices and the voices were beginning to cause the liquid beneath him to tremble so he was having a hard time keeping balance but for some reason he wanted to stand. Trying to stand as he wobbled like a new born giraffe.

I... I do not want to go back. I want to stay here, he demanded.

I am sorry love. You can not stay here. Not now. Maybe later. When you open those beautiful dark eyes of yours. Tell your brother that mother said she loves you both, truly, a kiss was pressed to his forehead and everything began to stabilize beneath him.





She felt the immense pain that he was in. For only a few seconds, her whole body was connected to him, she could feel how his nervous system was screaming and on fire. Everything was so flared up and in pain. It was overwhelming. Her hands flew back as if she was being pushed off but no one had touched her. Blood started to soak into her clothing. These were nowhere near as bad as what Asterion was experiencing and even with her abilities, his wounds were still open, but she heard him gasp as if she had stabilized his lungs for the most part.

Another painful moan came from him while his eyes opened up, lights and colors were all blurred to him, and everything began to flood into his conscious mind. Asterion began to scream from the agonizing pain that he was in. It sounded like someone was torturing him.

June grabbed a wad of fresh gauze and pressed it into her side that was leaking the crimson life force the most, packaging the gauze into her side, as she reached for Asterion’s face and checked his pupils with a light. Feeling his pulse that flourished compared to mere seconds ago.

We need to get him to the lab. We need a sterile place to work,” she was still throwing out orders while Lian waved her off. Trying to focus on her side that was bleeding. That was when everything seemed to bottom out and June passed out.




Hours and hours later.




Asterion was lying in a more comfortable hospital-style bed and room, his body was a patchwork of stitches, bruising, and surgical tape. The hum of machines filled the sterile room, punctuated by the rhythmic beeping of the heart monitor and the soft hiss of the ventilator forcing air into his lungs. His chest rose and fell in time with the machine, each breath a reminder of the battle he had barely survived.

Was this surviving?

IV lines ran from both arms, pumping fluids and painkillers into his system. A feeding tube snaked down his throat, keeping his body nourished while his mind remained lost in the drug-induced haze of a medically induced coma. Thick bandages wrapped around his abdomen, legs, and other areas to hide the deep trauma that had nearly ended him. His hands lay still at his sides, fingertips slightly curled as if grasping at some unseen thread in his unconscious state.

Krish sat beside him, his fingers resting lightly on his wrist, feeling the faint but steadier pulse beneath his skin. The fight to save him had been brutal, a desperate clash against time and odds, but now all they could do was wait. The room was too quiet, too still, save for the murmuring machines that kept him tethered to life.

He let out a slow breath, brushing a strand of damp hair from his forehead. “You’re still here,” he whispered. “That’s all that matters.

But the hardest part was yet to come.

The door creaked open, and Juniper stepped inside, balancing a tray of supplies. “Any changes?

Krish shook his head, not taking his eyes off Asterion. “Still stable. But… barely.
Juniper placed the tray on the small table beside the bed, exhaling softly. “The guards all have been briefed by Zarek and the whole tower is on heavy lock down. Varek is saying that we should send men to look into the Dark Aces.

Krish nodded, his exhaustion and emotional drainage was pressing down on him like a weight. He reached for a damp cloth and carefully wiped the sweat from Asterion’s brow. “We just have to get him through the next twenty-four hours. If he makes it through that, he has more of a chance. Right? If he stays stable for a decent amount of time, he’ll make it?

June pulled up a chair, her eyes scanning Asterion’s motionless form. “He’s tough. He made it this far.

Krish wanted to believe that. But the machines surrounding him told a different story. He was alive, but only just. Every breath, every heartbeat, was a fragile victory against the odds. He swallowed past the lump in his throat, “Yeah…” his voice cracked while murmuring, “He is.” That was when Krish began sobbing. Bringing the back of one of his hands and wrist up to cover his eyes while he clenched his teeth to try and stop the noise that wanted to come out of him. His body trembled, it heaved, and he couldn’t control any of the emotions coming from him.

June reached out and put a hand on Krish’s shoulder to attempt to comfort him but she knew it wouldn’t. Not enough. For now, all they could do was wait. And hope.




June left a little while ago and Krish finally got himself under control. His cheeks were puffy from the tears staining and nipping at them but he felt numb. Usually crying stung and ached. This… how could one even explain this feeling? A shaky sigh left his lips while the music was slightly calming. The man decided to text Jax, Asterion’s little brother to inform him of the situation.



After that call ended, there was no time in between wherever he was and him getting to where Asterion was. That boy sprinted the whole way from his penthouse to that tower and was making an emotional scene in the lobby before Mitzie guided him to where Asterion was. “This isn’t fucking fair,” his voice cracked out while his fingers stroked into his hair as he was almost pulling at it with stress while seeing his older brother in such a condition. “He was perfectly fine this morning. Fucking fine. He was being such a douche and now he isn’t even glaring at me or telling me to get the fuck out to save my own ass,” Jax felt warm streaks of liquid rolling down his cheeks.

Krish stood there and watched the younger man fight the battle of unraveling and keeping his emotions under control. It reminded him a lot of Asterion. Not wanting to be vulnerable but not being able to control it. “At least he’s breathing,” Krish glanced between the brothers as if that was hopeful enough.

Fucking breathing? Fuck that. He’s on a ventilator. He’s not even breathing by himself. That’s not living. That’s being forced to live,” Jax exploded with his hands going up in the air as if asking what Krish was talking about. “What type of life is he going to fucking have if he heals from this bullshit!?” Jax was getting loud. He was so much louder than his brother.

The redheaded man seemed to tense up, “Jax…” he growled a little.

WHAT?! I am being honest. He’s practically dead right now. You are all just forcing him to stay alive on these machines. What happens when he heals!? Is he going to be able to walk? Is he going to be able to talk? Is he going to lie there and be a vegetable!?

Asterion’s heart monitor began to start beeping showing his body was under stress. He was reacting to Jax’s emotions. Krish’s brows furrowed, “Shut the fuck up! You are stressing him out! We don’t know. June doesn’t know. He has to heal first. We won’t know until he gets stable enough to wake up from that coma but right now. He just needs to be in a coma, June said it’s for the best. That will lead to the least trauma for him,” Krish tried to explain.

Jax threw up his hands before making a gesture at Krish to practically wave him off as he approached the bedside of his older brother, “I am sorry that I was being difficult earlier this morning. If you open your eyes. I promise, I will try better. Open your eyes and I’ll think about getting out of casino work and gangs. You wanted me to go to college, right?” he grabbed his brother's hand in both of his hands. His brother was so cold. Super cold. “If you open your eyes and recover. I’ll go to college. I’ll get an associates degree just for you. Okay? I promise.

That was something Krish wasn’t expecting to hear and it broke his heart. Watching Jax try and talk to a living corpse and bargain with him to wake up. He had to look away from the scene and zone it out a little before he started crying again.
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Hidden 5 days ago Post by Yankee
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Yankee God of Typos

Member Seen 1 hr ago

Front Office, Silverside
Mentions: Adel, Matthias || Interactions: Webb @SporkoBug


When Private First Class Alex Gonzalez arrived at the office in the morning, it was 0700. He'd been up much earlier, and spent the a lot more time than he would have liked just... hesitating, and thinking, before he willed himself back through those doors. It was insane how quickly things had happened yesterday and how much of a fucked up position he was left in. But he had to adapt, roll with the punches, and find a way back. He was grateful to still be alive, and to have quickly found an avenue of continued existence - so much so that on his first day he walked in with a tray of coffees.

There weren't many people in at that time, but what few milled about were roused by the aroma of Alex's offering. In particular, the tall woman he'd spoken with briefly yesterday pulled her head up from off of her desk, a bleary eyed look on her face as she stuck her nose into the air and sniffed. There was already a Styrofoam cup with the remains of her own coffee in it sitting beside her, but evidentially it wasn't enough.

"Coffee for us? New guy, I love you," she said, pushing away from the desk and drifting over to claim a drink for herself.

"I just figured it would be a nice gesture, ma'am."

"Ma'am? I take it back, you suck. Call me Griffon."

They and a few other people chatted together. Greetings, water cooler talk, what shows they'd seen online recently. It was all kind of... normal office stuff, surprisingly. Alex learned that some of his new coworkers preferred cyber sleuthing and were always around, but a lot liked being out in the city. He also learned what he'd be doing.

"You're with me today," Griffon said, stifling a yawn. "God knows I could use a break sometimes. So you're gonna be backup security, got it?"

Alex blinked. "Uh, yeah. That's fine - I kind of assumed everyone did... spying," he admitted. Griffon snickered.

"Hell no. Can you imagine that guy going anywhere inconspicuously?" She pointed out a thick man passing the front, battle scars and tattoos visible in places that his stuffy clothes didn't cover. The man looked grumpy and, having heard Griffon's comment, turned to flip her off before continuing on his way. She just snickered again.

"We got some proper thugs too. Not many, but we got 'em. Hold overs from one old gang or another that used to operate in the area, I dunno. Boss has them doing office work when there's nothing else for them to do, and man do they hate it."

Her smile softened, and her voice became a touch more somber. "But what can they do about it, right? Go join another gang where they'll probably get killed and make less money doing it?"

She shrugged. That was the reason she stuck around too, for the most part. She did actually sort of like her coworkers though. Alex folded his arms over his chest.

"You make a good point," he said. In a way they were kind of like him; or rather, he was like them. After resisting the urge to sigh he looked at Griffon. "So is there anything I need to know, or should I just be standing around looking tough?"

Griffon's eyes flickered back to Alex, giving him a sideways glance while she took another swig of coffee. When she pulled the cup away from her lips her grin was back in full force.

"There's a lot, so get your ears ready pal," she told him, amused when he actually snapped to attention. "First: code name. You don't have to use one -some of us don't- but if you don't wanna risk someone learning your name or finding stuff out about you, then pick one."

A code name, that made sense. That was all that Del Guarde had known his new boss by after all, the 'Silver Canary.' Alex found it interesting that he'd get one; it was kind of like a specialist thing, but then again now his status as a soldier was secondary in the grand scheme of things.

"The boss doesn't assign them?" he asked, at which Griffon scoffed.

"He's a killjoy. He didn't even pick his own. He doesn't care whether people use real or fake names." After a beat Griffon's smile turned wicked. "If you're gonna pick one, make it bird themed!"

His reaction is really funny when people do that, she thought to herself. She neglected to mention that there was no actual theme to the names people chose; despite being colloquially known around Nocturnia as 'The Canaries' they didn't actually have a name as a collective, and there were plenty among them whose chosen names were other animals, or pop culture references. They even had a 'Batman' on the payroll. But when Griffon had seen the expression on Adel's face that perfectly encapsulated 'I'm so done with this shit' upon hearing the latest bird-themed name she'd egged people on to pick theme names more often, thus becoming part of the problem.

None the wiser, Alex mulled over it. "Okay... I guess... 'Eagle'?"

It was the first thing to come to mind, and given the enthusiastic thumbs up Griffon was giving him, he figured it was fine. So from then on he'd be known as Eagle.

Somehow that took some of the weight off of his shoulders. He didn't want to be caught by the military and branded a traitor before he could get out safely and explain what had happened, maybe plead for a pardon. He also didn't want any gangster looking into him and somehow learning about his family. Even if they were on the outside, he couldn't take the chance that anything could endanger them. The fright he'd had when the Silver Canary himself had so effortlessly pulled that information up was bad enough.

He really hoped that the sergeant had destroyed his men's records before surrendering, or that everything had been taken by the fire. Maybe it wouldn't be a bad idea to ask his new employer to see if said records could still be found, and get rid of them... actually, speaking of-

"So when does the boss get in?" Eagle asked, glancing back at the deeper offices. He'd been talking with Griffon for a little while now and he hadn't seen any sign of the man even as others filtered in and out of the area.

"Oh, you missed him. He was here earlier, checked on a few things and then left."

In particular she'd noticed that Adel had left in a poor mood after reading a letter that had arrived at some point during the night following the confirmation of Ig Notus' identity. He'd left her with some brief instructions, but otherwise it would be yet another day of the same for her.

Eagle looked at Griffon in surprise. The sun was barely rising by the time he'd come in, so it would have still been dark earlier than 0630 in November. So even civilians kept an early schedule like this, or maybe it was just the few that 'ruled' over their districts. The surprise quickly gave way to disappointment that he'd missed Adel, and a more raw feeling that rubbed at his pride a little. The boss had just left him, a new and untested person who had been part of an enemy faction, here to his own devices? He was of so little concern that the Silver Canary didn't need to be here himself?

Eagle voiced this to Griffon, more to point out how shockingly reckless that seemed to him. Her eyes crinkled with mirth as the corners of her mouth twisted upward. Outside, the morning wind howled through city streets.

"He didn't leave you alone though, did he? He left you with me," she said. She and Eagle stared at each other until the latter broke into a cold sweat. Then she tilted her head back to drain the rest of her coffee.

The rest of their morning was fairly uneventful. Mostly it was Griffon's unique brand of on-boarding, and Eagle keeping to her pace as she gave him a tour, told him about some of the business and some of the actual, legit business that fronted for them. By the time Adel's other new hire had arrived, Eagle had been made aware of him - but he still wasn't prepared to see what looked like a little boy with giant spider bits stuck to him.

"Is child labor legal here?" Eagle whispered to his senior. She replied by cupping a hand over her mouth and whispering back. "First off, nobody gives a shit if something is legal around here. Second, I dunno how old he is. But he needed some help and practically begged us to let him join up."

While they not so subtly traded whispers back and forth, there was time for Webb to discreetly plant a few live bugs. Of course there was no guarantee they'd stay that way if discovered. After a moment Griffon cleared her throat and turned back to Webb with that slightly unnerving smile on her face.

"Alright Webb. Boss said if you wanna help, head over to Riverbend. You know where that is, right? Just across the water from here. Aaaand," she fished a folded page out from her pocket, showing Webb the two simple pictures printed on it for his reference (that unfortunately she wasn't going to let him take). One was the outside of a simple church, and the other was a photo of a man with no discernible head. "This is what you'll be keeping those eyes of yours on."


Searching in Smoke Risers
Mentions: Emily || Interactions: -


There were aspects of her job that Swift disliked. That was normal, she figured; surely every person felt that way about their jobs. It was true of every one she'd had in the past too. There were things she liked about it too, but at the moment her mind was filled only with the negative.

She didn't like visiting a place that had just seen conflict. The atmosphere was depressing, a cocktail of resentment mixed with resignation with the conceit of the victors serving as the olive stuck in it. Normally bodies were cleaned up quick, but there were still signs of destruction easily found. Pretty much every district in Nocturnia suffered these kind of conflicts sooner or later, but if Swift had her choice of assignments she'd only go to the more stable ones, whose battles were at least a few months past. The takeover in Smoke Risers had been just last night.

"Haah..." she let out a sigh, breath foggy in the early morning chill. She was here anyway, so there was nothing to be done about it.

Doing her best to avoid anyone, not just the Blue Bloods, Swift walked the streets. She'd been authorized to 'pay a toll' if needed, but she would rather not if she could get away with it. The police made her a little nervous, and interactions like that were so tiresome besides.

While she walked she opened her mouth every now and then, only just enough to let out the high pitched noise inaudible to other humans. On the return she got the shape of the next few blocks ahead and around her and any people loitering on them. When her path seemed like it would get too crowded she just took a different route. She was still wandering more or less, but at the very least her boss had given her something more concrete to look for this time.

Though Swift worked quickly, she was still only one woman. It might take her a few days to search an entire district for something specific. And sometimes she failed, even with her gyft. But as she made a turn and cut through a narrow alleyway, she got the feeling that she was going to be a little lucky today.


Barber’s Studio, White Pine
Mentions: Matthias || Interactions: Vincent (in collaboration with @Estylwen)


They'd picked him up too fast.

Adel wasn't flawless, and he was far from some super spy. He couldn't change his shape or refract light to make himself invisible. But he was pretty good, and it usually took longer for anyone to notice the Silver Canary personally snooping around their districts. He didn't even stand out today, dressed down once more for the sake of moving around White Pine. So this? This was a new record. Not like he was going to congratulate Vincent or anything though.

With only the slightest tilt of his head Adel glanced around the shop's interior. He noted the men in front and behind. They, the Thorned Roses, must have been expecting visitors like him. They were on high alert, given how quickly they'd scooped Adel up. Maybe they were even a little nervous.

Adel's gaze flickered to Vincent, meeting the man's eyes. Slowly Adel raised his arms at the elbows, showing his palms.

"I'd prefer to stand, if it's all the same."

Vincent merely smirked. ”Fine. We'll do this the hard way, then.”

The men behind Adel stepped forward. They each placed a firm hand around his upper arms, half-guiding, half-dragging Adel to the seat. If Adel struggled in any way, their plan would have been quickly subduing him with a blow to the cheek - but besides tensing up, the man didn’t fight.

They shoved Adel into the seat, twisting it so it faced the mirror. Vincent still had that smirk on his face as he picked up a bowl of shaving cream and an applicator brush on the counter.

"Vincenzo," Adel said, voice hard with a warning edge to it. He was ignored. Slowly, methodically, Vincent applied shaving cream to Adel's face while speaking.

”Now, my men tell me that you and your spies have decided to make it your home in White Pine. Not that I care too much about that.”

He set down the bowl, picking out a barber's blade instead. He opened it, the fresh gleam of a clean, sharp blade within.

“What I really care about, though, is who set you up to do this.”

The blade pressed against Adel's neck as Vincent leaned over, staring at the man through the mirror.

”So, what'll it be, Canary? You gonna sing?”

It was intimidating to have a blade to his throat and 'The Boss' himself over his shoulder, but Adel kept his composure. He stared back at Vincent's reflection, eyes dark and betraying nothing.

This was not his first time meeting the man. They'd worked together on more than one occasion before - and from what Adel knew of him, this heavy handed method was not Vincent's usual style. Adel got the impression that the infamous Boss really was nervous about something, then. Was he still on guard after Captain MacAoidh's visit? Or did he expect that the rapidly growing Order of Enlightenment would make a move on his territories next?

Most importantly though, was he nervous enough that he'd kill Adel when he knew how useful he could be?

Adel had to think hard about if he was going to call the man's bluff.

"...this is all a bit too intimate for me," he breathed, letting his head tip back to rest against the back of the chair. This time when he looked at Vincent, it was up at the mafia leader himself. "You're the most influential gang leader in Nocturnia, Vincent. You know as well as I do any number of people would pay a lot for anything about you.

"I wanted to get ahead of the game. Just business; nothing personal."


Vincent glanced down at Adel, blade still firmly held to his neck. ”You've always amazed me with how well you could beat around the bush, Adel. One of your leading traits, surely.”

The blade pressed a little, sharp and new meeting soft flesh. He would only have to move the blade a little to make a cut now. And even as Adel breathed, the slight movement of his body made him far more acquainted with the sharpness of the knife than he should ever want to be.

Vincent's voice was a low growl, leaning down so their faces were mere inches away. ”You know a little mess never bothered me. But it would certainly bother you.

“So talk.”


They held each other's gazes. Adel felt a bead of sweat roll down the side of his face. He stopped himself from reflexively swallowing, knowing the bob of his throat would surely cause a cut. Really, how did he keep finding himself in these kinds of situations? He'd love for this to be over with sooner than later, preferably with himself leaving in one piece, but he was loathe to be threatened like this. He didn't have any particularly strong feelings for his current client, but he did have some pride.

"There's no need for all this, Vincenzo," he said, voice so low that only Vincent would be able to hear - so that if he agreed, he wouldn't lose face in front of his thugs. "You know there's always been an easier way to get information from me."

Vincent stared for a moment, before that smirk was back on his face. The barber's knife withdrew, placed back on the counter. Vincent passed Adel a towel so he could remove the shaving cream.

And, Vincent leaned with his back rested against the counter, arms folded as he stared at Adel in the seat. The man had to understand Vincent was pissed he'd come into his territory without calling first. But perhaps he could forgive him this time.

”...How much.”

Adel used the time it took to get clean to keep quiet and think before he answered. He judged what price he could set to keep Vincent from putting the blade to his throat again, and he considered how he wanted to deliver this information. He could be straight forward, give Vincent the answer he'd probably already guessed and then leave with nothing. Or... maybe... it could be beneficial to set the Thorned Roses and the Order against each other sooner than expected. He had to get close to Matthias; he didn't have to support his cult's insane expansion. He could think of a few ways getting into bed with Vincent would be beneficial.

The brunette's eyes traced Vincent's body, taking a mental note of his body language so he could avoid stepping on any emotional landmines.

"Flipping on my current clients is at least double the price they paid," Adel said finally, balling the used towel up between his hands. "But certain... circumstances... have led me to reconsider that. Fourty thousand and I'd be happy to tell you all about them."

He said it in such a way that it implied the intimidation had worked. In reality it actually was twice what Mr. FitzClarence was expected to give him, but it was basically a pittance considering the risk. There was no way he was going to tell Vincent that he'd agreed to spy on him for a measly twenty thousand - it would be an insult to The Boss himself.

Vincent rolled his head to the side, staring down at Adel through half-lidded eyes. Ay merda…

There was a little mental calculation going on in the back of Vincent's mind. How much Adel had already spent in his district. He was tempted to wring Adel out and force him to go lower. But the man already looked somewhat broken. Perhaps he would be… generous, today.

”Done.” And he flipped out his phone, transferring the funds into Adel's account.

Then Vincent leveled an expectant look at Adel. ”In the times I've known you, you've never gone sour on a deal. So, go on. Tell me.”

Adel didn't bother checking the transfer. He knew he was still on thin ice at the moment, and as such he didn't make Vincent wait for his answer this time.

"Our mutual neighbor, the leader of the Order of Enlightenment."

The look he returned Vincent was the false pleasantry of a businessman. He knew that when Vincent let him walk out of here the man had to expect he'd still go back to the Order and let them know what he'd found. Playing both sides of a conflict wasn't very out of the ordinary for him if both clients paid after all. In the end it didn't really matter which side came out on top, and if things went well he could use it as a pretense to get closer to Matthias - the task he'd be unpleasantly reminded of that morning.

The little smile he pretended to wear sharpened. If he navigated this right it would be a very interesting conversation indeed.
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Hidden 3 days ago Post by Qia
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Qia A Little Weasel

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Mentions: Vincent (@Estylwen) Interactions: Kairo's Group (@The Savant)

The Red Rose Lounge, Highfair

The message arrived without ceremony.

A simple vibration against polished mahogany. A soft chime breaking the hush of the late morning, barely perceptible beneath the murmur of distant jazz and the low hum of conversation beyond her office doors. Isabella, enshrouded in this calm, did not immediately seize the device. Instead, she stared at the glass of whiskey in her hand, the amber liquid catching the bright glow of the sun outside. She doubted Emilia would approve. But then, Emilia had the luxury of waiting for the sun to set before reaching for a drink. It was smooth, expensive—aged for over two decades. The kind of drink that reminded her she had won. That she had carved out her empire with blood and relentless force.

And yet, as the phone’s screen pulsed in the dark, a foreign pressure coiled in her chest.

She exhaled, expelling her unease, a slow release before her hand finally reached for the device.

📱 Message from Emilia:

Arakasa Tower. Basement. Vincent’s keeping him close.


Bella’s thumb hesitated over the screen. The whiskey in her grip sloshed.

Vincent's intent was clear—visibility; not before the prying eyes of the world or the petty scoundrels under his thumb who muttered his name, but visibility directed solely towards her.

It was a reminder. A message.
I hold what you value most, and I am not afraid to keep it where you can see it.

She let the phone drop onto the desk with a muted thud. Her free hand traced the rim of her glass. She could feel the faint, almost imperceptible tremor beneath her fingers. Not fear. No—Bella did not fear men like Vincent Accardo.

But fury? Fury was different.

Fury was ice-cold. Fury was the slow grind of a blade against a whetstone, honed sharp with patience.
Fury was the oppressive squeeze of a noose, a slow tightening that rendered each breath a privilege rather than a right. Fury was the weight of an empire built on blood-her family’s blood, her father’s- pressing against her ribs, daring her to crack beneath it.
Fury was not reckless, not wild—it was a promise. A debt. And Vincent Accardo was long overdue.

It would be easy—too easy—to let it drive her straight into the lion’s den. To march into that tower, dismantling bodies with her own two hands, tearing her brother from Vincent’s grasp.

But fury wasn’t enough. Not in this place.

She deposited the whiskey back onto the desk, reclining into her chair. In a moment of introspection, her eyes fluttered shut.

And then, when Bella opened them, the strategist took over.

Arakasa Tower. Vincent’s territory.

The problem was not just security, nor the eyes and ears Vincent had sown into the city like an invasive species, feeding on every whisper and breath. The problem was time.

Vincent wasn’t careless. If Mathieu was locked up there, it wasn’t just about keeping him hostage—it was about waiting for her to make a mistake.

Which meant she couldn’t afford one.

She needed more. More leverage. More people. More distractions.

Kairo.

The name surfaced almost immediately. The card Emilia had handed her sat at the edge of the desk, unobtrusive, yet suddenly taking up too much space in her mind.

Asterion Kairo. A man who played the game well enough to survive it. If there was strength to be wrung from him, if there was even a sliver of use in his survival, she would find it.

Still… something gnawed at the edges of her mind.

The whispers. Rumours of an attack.

If he had fallen—if he was compromised—then this was either the perfect time to strike a deal… or the worst time to stake anything on him at all.

Bella’s fingers tapped rhythmically against the desk, a silent debate unfolding within her. She could wait. Gather more information on Newport, anything to keep Vincent preoccupied.

Or she could pick up the phone now.

Her hand lingered over the card, hesitation flaring up but dissipating just as swiftly. A soft scoff escaped her lips, bitter, a self-derisive chuckle.

Since when did you hesitate, Bella?


The decision was made.

She picked up her phone and tapped the number in.

Let it ring.

Once.

Twice.

Then—

A voice answered.

Krish was sitting there talking with Zarek and Jax, attempting to figure out what to move forward with, and the plans that Asterion had on his private desk. They were in Asterion’s private office while reading over everything and Zarek was trying his best to find the notarized file that was for Jax, Klara, and others. They needed to make sure they could grant the man's dying wishes if everything went south.

Once the phone started ringing, Jax went to answer it, but he stopped himself and looked at Krish. Krish looked at the man with unknowing eyes and ones that were very questioning. “Should we answer it?” Jax glanced at it while hearing it ring.

Krish leaned over and picked up the phone, “Hello, this is Krish answering on behalf of Asterion. May I ask who is calling?” His brighter orbs looked up at Jax’s and a sense of uncanny familiarity zapped him with Jax’s twilight blue eyes looking down at him. They reminded him of Asterion. It was almost causing his stomach to sicken with how much Jax looked like Asterion — they were brothers.

“Put it on speaker,” Jax whispered.

The redhead man waved him off, covering the phone so his voice cannot be heard, “Shut up. It's not going on speaker. You'll fuck it up,” he hissed out those words.

Jax’s face twisted in a confused way of not knowing which emotions he wanted to show, offense? Maybe? “I want to hear it.”

“No,” Krish kept standing his ground.

“Please,” Jax began to beg.

Krish groaned in annoyance, “Fine but do not say a thing,” he sounded threatening before turning the phone on speaker. Jax sat down to listen to everything that would happen.

Bella’s grip on the phone remained firm, fingers drumming once against the surface of her desk before stilling.

Krish?

There was always something to be read in that first breath of conversation—the cadence of a name, the silence where it didn’t belong. The absence of Asterion on the other end also spoke volumes. It told her everything she needed to know.

That depends—do you think you can handle this conversation, or should I wait for Kairo?” Her voice was even, cool—not devoid of warmth, but lacking unnecessary pleasantries. This wasn’t a call for social niceties, after all.

Krish's lips opened to say something but nothing came out. What was he supposed to say to all of that? Especially the part about waiting for Mister Kairo. Jax stared at him like he needed to say something.

Zarek was going through a cabinet before sighing and rolling his eyes, “That silence says a lot,” he murmured in a low tone and Krish glared at him while mouthing, what do you want me to say?

The white haired man stood up from what he was doing and came over to the desk. “Krish asked you a question. Who is this? Answer that question and I'll consider being kind enough to continue this conversation,” he spat those words out with a seriousness. His finger was hovering over the button that would disconnect the call.

The irritation in Zarek’s voice wasn’t lost on her. He wanted control, wanted to flip the dynamic, but she wasn’t about to let that happen. Not entirely, at least.

This is Isabella Delacroix. And I understand this isn’t a conversation for just anyone.” A pause, just long enough to let the meaning settle. “Which is why I’d rather not waste my time—or yours—talking to the wrong person. So, is your leader available or not?

Not a slight. Not a challenge. Just a simple truth with an understandable question.

“He is a very busy man, Miss Delacroix. He is not currently available but you are talking to the two individuals who are his second in charge. I am pretty sure we can handle anything you have to say but if you think you'll waste your time. Please. Hang up,” he rather go back to digging through the cabinets instead of talking but there was no way that Krish was functioning very well in this situation.

Krish cleared his throat, “Bella, I understand this conversation is serious. If you want to speak to Asterion, you will have to wait, he is busy, and currently unavailable. However, if you're okay with speaking about this with me. I'm all ears. Zarek and I tend to be very aligned with Asterion and we tend to be in the majority of his meetings and a part of his decision making. If that makes you more comfortable to talk to us, please, go ahead with the conversation; unless you would like to speak about these matters in person?” Krish sounded way more pleasant than Zarek.

She could hear it—the tension, the subtle friction between them. Zarek’s impatience. Krish’s attempt at diplomacy. The faint, underlying strain of something unspoken.

Not an ideal scenario, yet it was still tenable.

Bella’s fingers drummed once more against her desk before she leaned back in her chair, exhaling softly.

"If Asterion trusts you with his decisions, then I’ll trust you can carry a conversation." A shift, her gaze flicking toward the whiskey she had abandoned.

"I assume you’re already aware of what’s happening with Newport." Not a question. A test. If they weren’t, that already told her something.

She gave them a beat to process before continuing.

Then you’ll understand why I’m calling. Vincent Accardo has something of mine, and I don’t enjoy owing debts. If Asterion still intends to involve himself in this, not that Vincent made it sound like he had a choice, I believe we can make ourselves useful to each other.” A subtle shift—not asking, not demanding. Just stating a fact.

The only question is whether Asterion is in a position to capitalize on that.

Krish and Zarek looked at each other with confusion — Newport? Zarek started laughing, “That is the crazy chick that he met at the gym. The one that wouldn’t stop fucking touching him by what he said,” his tone sounded amused. It showed that Zarek didn’t have any idea what was happening with the dirty cop.

Thankfully, Jax grabbed a pen and paper and wrote it down. What he heard from Vincent earlier that morning when he and Asterion were in his public office. Krish was reading it while Zarek made such a comment. It was a vague description of what happened that morning but Krish shook his head.
“We were not in the room when Asterion received that call, Bella. It was earlier this morning but someone else was. From what our third had informed us about the voice message that was left by Vincent, Asterion believes Emilia set him up. That she had to tell Vincent to know that Asterion was even talking to your people. Uhm…” Krish’s voice got a little shaky at the thoughts. “He isn’t certain if he can trust you, your people, or what mess you are getting tied up into. We understand that Vincent has taken Emilia’s visit to this tower very seriously because we are missing one of our own. Elara. He has her though we believe it is a trap, be that a trap setup by only him or a collaboration of everyone that was involved, Emilia,” Krish’s tone was serious and unmoving in tone. Putting emphasis on Emilia’s name and bringing this up to hear the reaction of the woman. It would help them understand if she was setting Asterion up.

Krish’s brows furrowed and Zarek caught onto that last sentence as well, “What do you mean? In a position to capitalize on that?” His words were plainly asked.

Vincent didn’t need Emilia to hand him that meeting on a silver platter. He’s had his gaze fixed on me long before she ever set foot in that tower. That’s what he does. That’s what men like him are.” She let the words settle like a match dropped into dry kindling, waiting for the flames to catch. Let them burn. Let them realize.

Because Vincent doesn’t play from behind. He doesn’t chase ghosts or scrape for scraps from a single lieutenant when he already has half this city wired to his liking. If you think he only just now pieced together that Asterion was speaking to my people, then you’re not seeing the game for what it is. He was always ahead. He was already waiting.

Her tone dipped lower, but somehow, it cut sharper. “So if you think picking apart Emilia’s loyalty is going to lead you anywhere useful, then by all means—keep gnawing at that bone while he takes his pound of flesh. My brother’s, most likely. And Elara’s, if she’s not careful.

A pause, a merciless one, before- “What do I mean?” The scoff that followed was dry, hollowed of amusement. “I mean exactly what I said. Accardo has positioned himself where he wants to be—he has us reacting, not the other way around. He wants me desperate. He wants you uncertain. He wants us scattered, scrambling, waiting for one of us to break first, to give him the satisfaction of seeing exactly how far we’re willing to fall.

She leaned forward slightly in her chair. “And right now, you’re giving him exactly what he wants. Instead of planning, instead of striking back, you’re questioning whether Asterion should even bother lifting a finger.

So what I’m asking is this: Is he in a position to capitalize on that? To strike, to take advantage of the fact that Vincent is this confident? Or is this conversation a waste. of. my. time?

Krish seemed to be stressing out, he never had to take over anything before, since Asterion was always there. Always. If his body was mutilated or shredded, he usually jumped out of it in time, but they found themselves in such a difficult situation. Zarek began to reply to Bella, “He might have you reacting, Miss Delacroix,” he broke the silence that was between them and the woman. “Elara understood this line of life is very dangerous. We might have the abilities and resources to save her but that is not feasible at this moment. She understands that. You have called at a difficult time, we had a direct attack on Nickel, and we are currently doing everything in our power to understand that. Something that Mister Accardo seems to have nothing to do with at the moment.”

Krish sighed and began to pet his hands through his hair trying to soothe, “We understand that Asterion was willing to help you, Bella, to an extent, but we all need proof before we can take any other steps. Actual proof. You should understand, we are weary about anyone, especially when it comes to such emotional highs. If you think this is a waste of your time, please, like Zarek had said; hang up. The Kairo Empire is dealing with repairs, investigations, and everything of our own accord. We are not against talking to you and figuring things out, but you have given us nothing to solidify your claims. The only thing that has happened is Vincent taking Elara because you had sent someone over to us. That doesn’t look like a good perspective, if you understand what I am getting at,” Krish added.

“Plus, you are sounding very… ‘my way or the highway’ type of deal. You sound like you are trying to pressure us into jumping onto a train and attacking Vincent. We have had no issues with Vincent until Emilia came to this tower. It’s kind of giving off a lazy attempt to set up a trap, at least that’s my opinion,” Zarek spat out those words before going back to what he was doing. Looking through cabinets to find the documents that he wanted.

The redheaded man brushed his hair with his fingers a few more times, “Bring us proof, Bella, and we are more likely to consider this seriously. Right now. We will be doing our own thing, sorry.” That sorry sounded genuine like something was truly wrong at the Kairo tower. Krish was feeling horrible that he couldn’t help Elara. That Asterion was in such a bad state that Bella couldn’t talk to him instead. It was difficult.

Vincent Accardo’s men are sitting comfortably in your tower. Elara is gone. My brother is bleeding in his basement. And you need proof?” A laugh, but there was no humour in it—just something brittle and dry as steel scraping against stone. “You think this is a ‘my way or the highway’ situation? No. This is a reality check.

Another pause. Then—a shift.

Fine. You want proof?” She leaned back, the leather of her chair sighing beneath her weight. “Tell me exactly what kind of proof you’re looking for, Krish. A body? A recording of his men laughing about how easily they took Elara? Or maybe, just maybe, the fact that your leader—your empire—is suddenly missing pieces should be all the evidence you need.” Her words were those of someone who no longer had the patience for ignorance.

But if you’d rather sit on your hands and wait for Vincent to come knocking again—then yes. This conversation is a waste of my time.

Her finger hovered over the end-call button this time, but hesitation flickered—sharp, fleeting, doubtful.

For all of Emilia’s insight, had she placed faith where none was deserved? She had painted Kairo as a man who dealt in certainty.

But this kind of hesitation was not a strategy.

Hesitation was a weakness.

And right now, that’s all she was seeing.

Had Kairo been waiting for a better deal? Watching the board shift, waiting to see who fell first before committing to a side? Perhaps she should have known better than to put stock in a man who built an empire in a world that only rewarded survivors.

And survivors didn’t gamble on the losing side.

Maybe he had already decided this wasn’t his fight.

And maybe Emilia had been wrong about him all along.

“It’s not my empire, Bella, it’s Asterion’s and only Asterion’s,” Krish sighed out those words. “Can we please, speak about this in person?” The stress in his voice increased ten fold. Something was wrong and it was clearly eating at him while he was trying not to expose too much over the phone. The tower was heavily guarded, only the most trusted individuals were coming in and out, and so on.

Krish rubbed at his face, “We can start talking about strategies off the phone lines, Bella. It would be better,” he added. “I think it would benefit you to see the tower and the empire that Asterion has created to and hopefully when you come here, you can meet Asterion as well, if he has time,” the redheaded man knew that this was an extremely risky move to make when Asterion was in a hospital bed, fighting for his life, but at the end of the day. The worst that happens is they show Bella the state that Kairo was in — then his light orbs flicked up to Jax — or have someone fill in for Asterion. Someone that could change appearances, someone that had similar body language, and everything else. Someone that they could train to become Asterion Kairo while the actual Asterion healed. “Pardon me, I misspoke. You will be able to meet Asterion if you come to the tower. He should be free in a handful of days, if that sounds good to you? And I promise this is not a waste of your time.”

Jax seemed confused before reality hit him. Krish was looking at him while he spoke. Did Krish really think that would work? Jax shook his head in the negative. Krish shook his head in the positive before mouthing the words — You are going to become your brother until he heals up.

Jax mouthed back — No, I can’t fucking do that, Krish.

Yes you can, Krish mouthed back before adding — you always want to work here right? Get a job? Well step up. We need time to delay and you can be that time for us.

Jax looked concerned and put his face into his hands. This whole thing was beginning to stress him out. He wanted a job here, something like an assistant, or a guard, or something. Not actually pretending to be his brother even though he joked about it with him plenty of times. He wouldn’t be a good Asterion, would he?

A lingering silence, and then, finally-

A handful of days.” Her voice was flat, unreadable. “I hope, for your sake, that Asterion’s empire still has days left.” A sigh followed as she reached for her whiskey. The amber liquid swirled lazily within the glass, catching the light in slow, gilded ribbons. A distraction. A momentary reprieve from the truth gnawing at the edges of her mind.

Because she wasn’t even sure if Mathieu had hours left, let alone days.

Her fingers curled tighter around the glass, and then after a beat-

Two days.” A simple decree. No room for argument. “If Asterion’s in a position to talk by then, I’ll stop by.

And if he wasn’t—then this conversation, like so many before it, was already dead.

Krish nodded and was slightly relieved, “We will see you in two days, Bella, and we will be waiting for your arrival. Thank you.” Then the anxiety began to fill his body, they had only two days to train Jax to be a fill-in for Asterion. Two days.
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Hidden 2 days ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant The darkening

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The Three Musketeers




You cannot really think that I’d make a good replacement for my brother, Krish,” When the phone hung up and the call was completely cut from talking to Bella, Jax was bitching, and his nerves were showing. “I understand that you guys need a miracle and whatever but I can’t fucking do that. Anyone with one brain cell would notice that I’m not my brother,” Jax was heavily concerned with getting caught up in something that he didn’t want to be caught up in. This morning, he had a different mindset, but he found himself worrying. His older brother had never been this severely hurt before. It was setting a foundation of the reality of this life and type of work for him — extremely different from casino and gang work.

Krish sighed, “I…” he gestured with his hands a little as if to say that he was unsure. “Hopefully it won’t be for too long. I’m hoping your brother recovers quickly and I am hoping that you only have to be a cover for a few weeks at max. Please. It’ll help give us time and make people think that Asterion is still strong and here. We need you to do this. Please.” The redheaded man didn’t have many other options with Asterion in his current situation — a breath away from death in a highly secured hospital bed.

Jax groaned in conflict as he rubbed his temples while staring at Krish, clearly, he was having a hard time wanting to do this. This was such a difficult situation. “What if I fuck up badly?” His voice was filled with concern.

You won’t. We will try our best to make minimal interactions. Your brother is not very public anyways, a lot of people do not know who he truly is or what he looks like, how he acts, and everything. You should have a pretty easy time with mine and Zarek’s guidance. We will set up a system where I will always be by your or try to be by you. Zarek can speak to you through an earpiece so you know what to say,” Krish was trying his best to talk Jax into it. Jax was clearly nervous of this plan even though this was something that he wanted when he spoke with his brother.

The only Kairo in that room put his face into his hands while breathing deeply and trying to think about the overall situation. He wanted to help his brother so badly but he had some anxiety when it came down to it. What was he supposed to do? That was when he nodded in agreement, “Okay. I’ll do it for Asterion,” he confirmed that he would try. He would at least try for his older brother.




Zarek and Krish were beginning the training session that they had created for Jax so he could become his brother or the closest thing to Asterion. “I think the best place to start is watching and listening to all the video and audio footage that we have of your brother. Learn how he carries himself, how he talks, how he walks, the differences of how he treats men and women, everything. He’s very particular with certain things,” Krish pressed the play button on the multiple screens of the room. They were in one of the security rooms, replaying footage, and having Jax sit in a comfortable chair.

He can’t be that much different than other people, right? This should be easy. Most people won’t even know the difference, you said,” Jax was glancing back and forth from Krish and the screens.

Zarek sighed and rolled his eyes, “Your brother is a little weird. You know how you, I, Krish, and other people use I’m or I’d or other things like that? Your brother avoids using that. He will say I am, I would, and I cannot. He loves his syllables; it's one of the many things that he does consistently different and will not mess up on,” the man explained while turning the audio up in the room so they could watch security footage of Asterion.

They watched Asterion bridal carry Ayla to the room that he was found in during and after the attack. “I’m not picking up girls like that. I’m sorry. Most girls are fucking heavy,” Jax protested. “He’s not even that strong. How the fuck is he carrying her like that. Nah. I’m not doing that. I’m not touching the enemy and bridal carrying those bitches. Fuck hoes. He’s too nice that’s why he got shot,” Jax continued to talk.

Krish facepalmed while Jax continued to keep going with his words. Zarek huffed out, “Just learn how to be like him. It’ll only be for a few weeks. He needs time to heal. Krish even said he’ll try and make sure you don’t interact with too many people either,” Zarek glanced at Krish and this caused the red headed man to nod in agreement.

And learn how to be blunt and stern like you don’t actually care but like your brother cares deeply about anything and everything except he’s specific on those things so he doesn’t truly care about everything. Does that make sense?” Krish was looking at Jax for confirmation or rejection of that statement.

Jax shook his head, “No, that doesn’t make any fucking sense,” he looked completely confused.

What Krish is trying to say is that your brother is considerate. He is considerate to his enemies and his allies. He believes in humanity or whatever it’s called,” Zarek whirled his hand in the air as if he was saying do you get my gist?

Jax’s face looked so confused and he stared back up at the screens of watching his brother in different security perspectives and how he was talking to different people. “Why does he do that?” The younger man asked after a while.

What?” Krish and Zarek asked at the same time and gave Jax their attention.

Why does he kiss women all the time? Like on multiple screens with multiple women, he gives them a kiss on their forehead. Like for no reason. They will be talking and he’ll do it. He’ll be leaving and doing it. I don’t have to kiss Mitzie on the forehead, do I? He seems to do that quite a lot.

Krish groaned a little, “He only does it to girls. Like younger ones. I don’t know why he does it but I think he takes on a pseudo-father-like personality when he feels like that is what they need. And yes, Asterion walks Mitzie out to her car almost every night and he will kiss her on the forehead and make sure she drives off before coming inside. He doesn’t do that to June. He doesn’t do that to Elara but he does it to Mitzie and he has done it to a few other young female workers. He doesn’t do it to young men though. If you see that security camera, he tends to ruffle younger men’s hair and stricter like he expects more from them. He’s easier on women versus men. That’s just how he is. It’s probably because of how your guys' parents were,” Krish gestured as if he didn’t really know.

What Krish is trying to say is that your brother has extremely traditional values or what some women would say sexist and misogynistic tendencies. At least he’s not an ass about it?” Zarek chuckled.

I notice that he takes on the roles of what he believes that person needs or what he is reading as the situation he’s in. So… does he just fake being something for others constantly?” Jax seemed confused while he stared up at the screen.

No… he isn’t faking who he is, Jax. It’s… Asterion is complicated. I think it’s because he wants to see everyone smile, look,” Krish picked up the remote and continued to pause all the screens, every time that someone would smile because of Asterion. “Watch how he responds, not his facial expression, but his eyes. Focus on his eyes every time I hit play, okay?” That was when he began to slowly hit play on one screen at a time.

Every time someone showed him a smile or a relaxed happiness. Asterion would smile with his eyes. They would get brighter like he did something right even if it didn’t show on his face. Though there was still so much pain in his eyes, so much darkness, and a mysteriousness to what was happening behind those eyes. There were a lot of thoughts. “He just looks unhappy,” Jax stated.

Krish sighed, “No, he doesn’t. Look at his eyes, Jax. They brighten whenever someone smiles at him even if their smile isn’t truly something of happiness. Just focus. You need to act like him or someone is going to figure out you are not him. Like, Bella is coming in two days. If she brings Emilia, we are fucked. Emilia spent quite a good amount of time with Asterion. If you don’t act like him, she will probably figure that out,” Krish turned the security footage to different perspectives of Asterion and Emilia when they were in the public eyes of the tower.

This is somewhat pathetic to fucking watch…” Jax murmured. “He hasn’t had sex in a while has he? Like the thirstines is seeping off from him. Dont’ show anyone these videos. They would think he’s a fucking beta,” Jax gestured up to the footage.

Zarek began to laugh a bit. “Your brother is pretty cheugy,” the man continued to be amused while playing a game on his phone.

No cap, Asterion is a cheugy beta,” Jax continued.

He has no rizz. Your brother is mid when it comes to most things. Just act like a boomer and you’ll be Gucci,” Zarek continued.

Krish was looking at them like he had no idea what they were saying, “What the fuck does any of that mean?

Zarek looked up, half-interested, “If you know, you know,” he shrugged his shoulders before going back to his phone game.

It means he’s basic. Not boujee. He’s a beta. At least he has drip,” Jax gestured up to the screens.

Krish shook his head, “Your brother isn’t boring, you twit,” he rolled his eyes. “Just because he doesn’t do things like you do, doesn’t make him boring,” he added.

He would fail at being a sigma anyways but he could try. Get some hoes. Be chill. Stop with all this demure bullshit and be a bro. Instead he’s dying in a hospital bed because he didn't fucking shoot this bitch on the screen,” Jax gestured.

I can’t. You can sit there with him, Zarek. Since you understand what he’s saying. I’m taking a break,” Krish got up to leave the room.

Have fun boomer,” Jax waved once before his hand fell back onto his chest as Krish looked back with some offense on his face before leaving.

This was only the beginning of the very long training session that Krish and Zarek would be attempting with Jax.



Mentions @Qia Bella and Emilia @Estylwen Ayla
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Hidden 2 days ago Post by SporkoBug
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SporkoBug The Cosmic Engineer

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Collab with @Estylwen
The Jolly Jalopy:


Ezra stood from the bar, stepping a little into the lobby of the Jolly Jalopy as he pressed a phone to his ear. It rang twice before connecting.

The Doctor looked at his phone as it was called, he hesitated on the mere idea of answering it as he pulled a strand of red thread and a needle closer to him, away from his project. He narrowed his eyes before placing the thread down and moving to answer it.

”Hello, Doctor. I believe we may have gotten off on the wrong foot. You and I… Perhaps, we have more in common that I'd like to admit. And perhaps we both want to use little Webb for our own ends.

“My Underboss informed me how your meeting went. As long as Webb is not harmed, I would allow supervised contact with him. If you can agree to that, I have a proposition for you that would make you and your organization stronger. Perhaps, going as far as, joining forces. A storm is coming, good Doctor, and I feel we may fair it better together than opposed.”


He knew he’d be calling him, the Doctor stayed silent as he listened to Ezras’ words. He narrowed his eyes under his mask as he closed them for a moment. He chuckled at the ‘Good Doctor’ comment; which gave Ezra some note that he had answered and was listening.

”The Midnight man coming to ask the Black Web for help?” He almost laughed to himself, he moved his hand under his mask to rub his cheek and then his chin, mulling the idea. ”I do not expect a man like you to understand why the Cult needs ‘little Webb’, nor can I fully give my word that what I need him for will not hurt him.”

The Doctor pulled away from his desk, moving to cover it with a large cloth before pulling off his gloves, a shadow tendril holding his phone to his ear so he could continue to use his hands freely.
”But I’ll bite. Figuratively, of course. What have you got in mind? The Black Web cannot offer much other than numbers; and even then, most of them aren’t Gyfted; unlike you and I.” He spoke calmly, a small grin in his voice as he mentioned that his members weren’t gyfted, ”But they’re loyal, and will do whatever I ask them to do.”

Ezra shrugged. ”Like I said, as long as I can supervise and ensure Webb’s health, and as long as whatever you’re doing is for his betterment, I can agree to it. Some gyft’s are born through pain.”

He glanced back at Antonio briefly, seeing the man make his own calls, before he drew his attention back to the Doctor. ”And you needn’t worry about a lack of gifts. My good friend has unlocked the ability to bestow gifts temporarily, so they will be effective soldiers.

“As for my proposal, I would be interested in conquesting with you. We would split the spoils, of course. If you’ve heard of Antonio Litwin, I intend to march with him onto Lougham, and then onto the rest of the Order and Kairo districts after that. I would extend that same invitation to you, with the spoils being split. That means more funding for your organization. I could also throw in my friend’s gyft-giving drugs to empower you.

“What do you say, Doctor?”

There was silence from the other end of the phone, before the Doctor cleared his throat before speaking.

”My apologies, I was taken aback by your plans.” He said, he was definitely interested in the entire idea, if it meant more funding for him - and possibly getting Webb in his hands, which meant he could try the ritual faster than he needed - He needed to call off Mia. ”I would love to help you.” He said after a moment.

”It sounds like you are out right now, I assume you’re talking with comrades? May I come and join to meet my new conquesters?”

”Of course, we're all gathering at the Jolly Jalopy, incidentally enough. You'll also be able to meet the man we intend to conquer. If you could make it over here in about fifteen minutes, you'll be right on time.” Ezra said easily, eye creasing. ”See you soon, Elliot.”

As the phone hung up, the Doctor furrowed his brow. How did he- He hissed to himself before he headed off to get ready.


Phone Calls:


Finally, Ayla was home, tucked away in one of the offices under the Ig Notus name. She was still, curiously, wearing the dress she had been given while she was a prisoner. She poured over information scrawled on a notepad in front of her, and she made a call, pressing a new cellphone to her face.

Eventually, the call connected, and one of the receptionists manning the orphanage's phone greeted her. Ayla responded in kind, ”Hello, this is Ayla Sephone of the Dark Aces. I was wondering if Miss Talon was in? It's very important I speak with her.”

”Good morning! I’ll send your call up to Ms Talons’ office, she may be busy but she should take the call!” The receptionist said with a smile in their voice before they put her through to harriets’ office phone.

It called for a moment, almost as if Harriet wasn’t going to pick up; before it clicked.
”Harriet Talon, Hamlet Orphanages; where adoptions are what we do best. Who am I speaking with?” Harriet spoke, she sounded fine on the surface, but if one was to listen closely, she was stressed.

”Miss Talon, a pleasure to speak with you, my name is Ayla Sephone. I have a, let’s say, proposal for you from the Dark Aces.

“I understand you have a bit of a detective problem. What if I told you I could get rid of your problem if you help my boss in his conquest of Nocturnia? We would pay you handsomely, of course.”


Harriet raised an eyebrow as Ayla spoke through the phone to her, The Dark Acres? This must be big business. Harriet thought to herself.
”A bit of a detective problem, yes.” She repeated as she listened, narrowing her eyes.

Harriet was never one to work alongside anyone, but if it meant she’d not be hunted down by a detective aggressively trying to put her in jail for doing good where his men did wrong, she’d take whatever help she’d get.
”If it means the safety of my flock and family, I’ll help how I can.” She said in a stern voice, ”I cannot offer many arms, but who I have to fight are strong.”

”Wonderful,” Ayla purred on the other end of the line. ”Consider your problem with the law over. Meanwhile, we are planning an attack on the Order. I'll coordinate with you when I have more details on where and when. Does that sound fair, Miss Talon?”

There was a moment of silence from Harriet before she sighed. ”That sounds fair, I await your calls. I’ll send you my personal number to this cellphone, so you can contact me easier.”


After the call with Harriet concluded, Ayla went right on to dial Glade’s number. When it connected, she smiled.

”Hello, Mr. Brey. How was your night in the safe house?”

“Ayla, You’re alive!” Glade replied, relief in his voice before he cleared his throat to speak again, “Admittedly as comfortable as it can be with armed guards breathing down your neck.” He chuckled at the answer he gave.

She smiled at that before giving her notepad a tap, nearly reading off the scribbles. ”Have you seen the news? I have a solution for that, if you're interested.”

Glade raised an eyebrow at the mention of a solution, before he gave a small grumble.
”I saw the news.” He said with a sigh, ”I even have a ‘friend’ up my ass trying to convince me why he shouldn’t give me up to the Nickel district.” He gave a hollow laugh and closed his eyes, leaning back on the couch of the safe house.

”If you have a solution, I’m all ears. Anything to potentially get back into doing gig work.”

Ayla made a sympathetic face on the other end of the line, which coloured her voice. ”Well, it’s not an ideal solution, but I believe the best course of action would be to remove Asterion Kairo from power.”

Even as she spoke, she felt a twinge of guilt. But she had a job to do. And this was just how the game was played. ”We would use your ability to get the drop on the movement of the enemy before and during the strike. And we would cut a path through the Order to get to Kairo. Of course, you would be paid well for your work. And, after the Kairo Empire has been dismantled, you would be able to resume your gigs city-wide freely.”

There was mild hesitation from Glade, ”Will we have to kill him?” He asked after a moment, ”I’ll help however I can, Being able to do my gigs will be good.” He hesitated, ”I’m not trying to be pushy at all, but will my help be compensated; not monetarily, but… Ezra knows my problem, will he help me in return?” He asked after a moment.

Ayla's voice was soothing on the other end. ”He hasn't forgotten. And we've found an edge on that. Give Ezra some time, and we may have a lead. You will get your sister back, one way or another.”

Glade gave a soft sigh and nodded to the phone; knowing that Ayla wouldn’t have seen it of course.
”Just… making sure; it’s honestly one of my biggest priorities - As I said to Ezra last night. Thank you, Ayla.” He said with another sigh, this one less shaky than the first, ”I hope you’re doing okay. I was worried about you.”

Ayla pursed her lips on the other end, before she spoke. ”Mr. Kairo is strangely magnanimous, treated me ‘like a guest’ while in his custody. So yes, I am doing fine, thank you. The priority was to get you out, and in that endeavor, I was successful.”

Glade hesitated before he nodded and breathed out slowly, ”I’m glad. I know your focus was on me, but I’m glad you’re unharmed. It's nice to know that Mr. Kairo isn’t as horrible as I expected him to be.” He chuckled before closing his eyes. ”Have a good day Ayla.” He said before the phone call ended.


After the call with Glade concluded, Ayla took a moment to stare out the window. The only way Glade was getting his name cleared was to take down the Kairo Empire… It fit with her boss’ goals, but still, she couldn't help but feel a little guilty, helping to plot Asterion's downfall.

Shaking away her thoughts, Ayla pressed the phone again to her ear, calling Webb's number.
Webb had just gotten through the door after being with Viv, he placed the small cardboard box he had been babying carefully on the counter before he jumped at his phone ringing.

”Hello Webb~” She cooed. ”How is everything? You might not know me, but I work for Ezra, same as you. My name is Ayla.

“Do you need anything? Can I restock your fridge?”


Webb listened to the voice on the phone with a tilt of his head, he was confused for a moment before Ayla introduced herself. ”New friend! Hello!” He replied cheerfully before he moved to open the fridge to check if he needed anything. ”If able, maybe ham?” He asked, he was always partial to some ham, ever since Viv got him onto it.

”Done, I’ll send someone over today.”

Ayla took a breath, before speaking again. ”I'm calling today because Ezra would like to make you an honorary member of the Dark Aces. That means you'll get a pay increase, and your job will include more things on top of making friends with the Canary. Does that sound alright to you?”

Webb closed the fridge before he blinked all four of his eyes - out of unison - at what was told to him.
”Webb has another job?” He asked hopefully, his abdomen wagging slightly, ”Sounds great! Webb just got bugs for spying too! Will heading soon to place!”

Ayla seemed pleased over the phone. ”Wonderful! I would also ask that you plant some of those bugs in the Kairo Tower and in the Order’s main church in Riverbend, as tasks for your new position as honorary member of the Dark Aces. There’s no rush on these, whenever you have time. Your top priority is still the Canaries.”

Webb moved to grab a pen and started to scribble the places that Ayla had asked him to place bugs down, ”Yes I can do! Getting more bugs not hard, Viv will help.” He almost rattled off to Ayla as he practically beamed down the phone, ”Anything else needed for Webb to do?” He asked, excited he had more to do.

Ayla's smile could be heard in her voice as she chuckled lightly. ”Not at the moment. Focus on those three things, and you're welcome to text the boss your progress.”

Webb nodded at those words, ”Understand!” He spoke before Ayla signed off.

Webb realised he needed to go to the Canaries, he needed to know the best places to put his bugs! He also had to make another order to Viv, but if Ezra was paying him, he could pay her back properly.

He moved the box to his bedroom before leaping out of the window to head off towards the Canary’s tower.


Front Office, Silverside

Interactions: Griffon, Eagle @Yankee

Webb swung down from the rooftops and walked easily through the door of the Office, pausing and shaking his leg to disconnect the web hanging from him.
The wind will get rid of it at least, it wasn’t too much to expend making an anchor line like that; and it wouldn’t harm anyone if it flew into them - Similar to one walking into a standard spider web.

Webb watched the area quietly as he walked along, giving a smile to the front desk and to Griffon before he disappeared into a room to let some of the bugs go that he had brought with him.
They were mainly trial spies; a couple of Silverfish - which quickly disappeared into the gaps of the wall, where the carpet met the edge. He let a couple of small moths go - the ones whose wings folded back into a streamline, the ones able to hide on the ceiling without standing out.

He’d need to be in a more crowded room, in terms of items, to let any others go; but they were still at home. He had a couple of pill bugs waiting for him, a small centipede and a couple of jumping spiders and a little huntsmen that he was planning to put in a couple places.
The jumpies would be good for bathroom areas, they enjoyed the fresh air from the windows; and their bundled webbing was never extremely noticable unless you were really looking for them.

Webb walked out as Griffon turned to him, his ears pricked up as she started to speak to the spiderling. Webb nodded at the word ‘help’.
”I can do!” He said excitedly before he looked at the pictures given to him. His head tilted all the way to the left as he studied the photos - similar to a dog trying to take in more information.
I wonder if this what Ezra need too? Webb thought to himself before he looked back to Griffon and nodded.
”Easy! Webb good at hiding in shadows!” He said before he looked towards Eagle and offered up his top left arm for him to shake. ”I’m Webb, nice to meet new friend!”
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Hidden 1 day ago Post by Qia
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Qia A Little Weasel

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The Red Rose Blooms in Newpoint

The map of Nocturnia sprawled across the desk like an open wound, its inked veins carving out a city perpetually at war with itself. Lines of power, drawn and redrawn by ambition and bloodshed, whispered of grudges old enough to turn to dust. Isabella studied it in silence, tracing a gloved fingertip along the borders of her next target.

Newpoint.

A comfortable district. Unclaimed. Sitting between 93rd Street, Heavy Crossguard, and Oliver Fields—a vital artery in the city’s circulatory system, waiting to be taken. It was a strategic move, not just an expansion but a necessity. If she was going to counter Vincent and tighten her grip before he made another move, she needed ground. A foothold.

And Newpoint was practically begging to be seized.

She shifted her gaze to Emilia, who leaned against the desk’s edge beside her, arms folded, her expression a careful mosaic of assessment and restraint. That sharp-eyed scrutiny was familiar to the district leader, as inevitable as the tides.

Thoughts?

Emilia exhaled through her nose, tilting her head. “It’s a bold choice. Especially given the circumstances.

But?

But…” Emilia’s lips twitched, “you were never one for hesitation, and we’ve been holding this off long enough.

A quiet ripple of amusement ghosted through the room. Not laughter, not quite approval. Just acknowledgement. The kind that came from people who had walked through fire at Isabella’s side and lived to tell the tale. They knew what she was. And they followed her anyway.

Bella scoffed lightly but didn’t let the tension slip. Her finger tapped Newpoint’s border, and the rhythmic click of her nail against the paper was the only sound for a moment. Then, she turned her attention to the assembled figures in her office, her most trusted, the ones whose loyalty had been forged in the crucible of survival. Two, however, stood out and for very different reasons.

First, Siena.

She was barely contained energy on Bella's left side, eyes glinting with something that sat precariously between reverence and mania. A worshiper before an altar. And who was her God? Who was to truly say?

Newpoint,” Siena breathed, voice tinged with unholy excitement. “We could paint it red.

The person beside her shifted uncomfortably. The newer recruit—a child by Syndicate standards—cleared his throat but wisely swallowed whatever ill-advised comment had been forming.

From across where Siena sat, Dom, the resident class clown and the strange woman’s long-suffering babysitter in some ways, leaned back in his chair with the deadest of deadpan expressions.

Okay, who keeps inviting the freak? Seriously?

Siena ignored him entirely, tracing a slow, lazy finger across the map, her touch lingering over Newpoint’s outline as though she could already see the blood soaking into the streets. “It’s poetic,” she sighed, almost dreamily. “A red rose blooming in the heart of Newpoint…

Bella’s hand brushed the back of Siena’s hand, drawing it back from the paper before she could begin etching her vivid imaginings into the ink. “As long as you don’t get poetic on my walls, Siena.

Clasping her hands together as if Bella had graced her with an anointment, Siena’s eyes twinkled. “Understood, boss.

Dom, meanwhile, groaned theatrically, raking his fingers through blond tousled hair. “We’re so fucked,” he lamented, stretching to relieve the tension coiling in his shoulders, before redirecting his focus to the matter at hand.

Alright, jokes aside—what’s the actual play here? Taking it outright, or using a softer touch?

Soft,” Bella said. “At first.

She straightened, her eyes cutting across the map. “We move in under the guise of stabilization. Infrastructure, security—Newpoint’s been a free-for-all for long enough. They’ll be more inclined to let us in if they think we’re not just here to plant a flag.

A few of the gathered enforcers nodded subtly. A silent agreement.

Dom, however, arched a brow. “And when they resist?

Before Bella could articulate her response, Emilia interjected.

Just don’t make a mess before the job’s even started,” she said coolly, her hazel eyes flitting cautiously toward Siena. “We can’t strong-arm the place if half the district thinks we’re lunatics before we even walk in.

Dom smirked. “In that case, you’re lucky we have Siena. No one ever suspects the absolutely deranged ones first.

Bella exhaled through her nose in response to it all, a vein of impatience appearing on her forehead while Dom barked a laugh- and Siena, blissfully undeterred, appeared to revel in the dialogue surrounding her.

I’ll take that as a compliment,” she declared, chin resting on her palm, a grin blooming across her features.

Emilia didn’t bother to correct her.

Regardless, the decision had been made long before the conversation had started. The Iron Rose was moving in.

Newpoint didn’t know it yet. But it was already hers.
Invading Newpoint
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Hidden 1 day ago Post by LanaStorm
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LanaStorm

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Vincent / Emily




Clash,

I'm interested in a bit of parley with you. Why don't you stop by my office when you have some time today, at the Arakasa Tower. The receptionist will guide you up.


That was the text Emily would have received in the early morning. And now, as little later, with the slightest patter of rain fallow outside, Arakasa Tower stood proud and tall against the oppressive sky, like the last bastion of rational thinking.

So the vixen was shown up, the clacking of boots was heard and the sight of swaying hips followed as the off duty beauty showed up to the mob boss’s throne room to be. Or was it a pent house?

The receptionist leading Emily up through the levels of Arakasa Tower stopped by a carved oak door, the name plate bearing ‘Vincenzo Accardo’ fit into the wall beside it. The receptionist knocked, before letting Emily into an ornate office. It wasn't on the highest level of the tower, but it was high enough that cars moving down below on the streets looked like little toys.

Vincent had a pleasant smile on his face as Emily entered, sitting neatly on his throne. He gestured to the leather chairs opposite his desk for Emily. ”Detective Newport, I'm so pleased you could make it. Please, have a seat. Care for coffee, tea?”

“Bring me something sweet, tea, surprise me.” The bad cop purred as she made her way over to the leather seat, placing her sitter down upon the fine italian leather. She made herself comfy awaiting her drink, a smile dashing on her parting lips as she looked over to the King of Noc Noc city himself. “What do I owe the pleasure Mr. Accardo~?”

The receptionist nodded and left for a moment, shutting the office door and allowing them some privacy. Vincent still had a pleasant smile on his face, eyes watching Emily like a hawk. He leaned back in his padded seat (really, he was just missing the crown).

”Right to business, mm? Very well. It's come to my attention you had a certain… Meeting, with a certain smoke head. I'd like to propose a counter offer for you, if you’d be willing to entertain me.”

That was when the receptionist softly rapped on the door, coming in with a gold tray. She set a saucer and round glass cup in front of Emily - it appeared to be filled with a pink liquid, topped with crushed pistachios. An identical cup was placed in front of Vincent.

”Your pink tea, miss.” The receptionist said, ”Pleasantly sweet.”

And indeed, if Emily were to take a sip, it would be hot, milky, with undertones of cinnamon and star anise, a pinch of salt, and a helping or two of sugar.

Vincent took a sip of his own drink, cup landing in its saucer with a soft clink. ”It’s a special import, you know. Originates from Kashmir… And no, I haven't poisoned it.”

Emily sniffs it before taking a sip, yummy. The detective had a nose for this type of stuff, much like how she was a noc noc connoisseur.

“Mmm yes smoke head, quite a hot man. Steamy even, let’s hear it then. I like doing business when faces look - handsome.” She giggled.

Vincent smiled a little at that, taking another sip of his tea. ”My proposal is fairly straightforward. I give you access through White Pine, we take down Riverbend, you keep Riverbend and any Order Upper Echelon to bag for the Crown. I'm sure evidence for their crimes will be easy enough to procure.”

“Why me out of anyone else in the city, you seem like the type to stab a girl in the back, no?” Emily sauntered over pink tea in hand as she sipped along.

Vincent tilted his head slightly, eyes half-lidded. ”Because you're resourceful, detective. And due to our proximity to each other, I'd prefer us to have somewhat of an understanding between us.”

The big ol’ detective sat her derriere on Vincent’s lap as she put her tea cup down allowing the mob boss to feel the whole brunt of the law. “Mmmm… Comfy, Vincent if you are serious about this maybe you should show me where Delacroix is. I want to meet him, make sure he isn’t y’know… dead.”

Vincent merely raised an eyebrow, not moving an inch as Emily made her seat. ”You ask a lot, detective. I'll let you talk with him, through a screen.”

He shifted a little, procuring a phone in his hand. ”What do you say?”

“Need a little more good faith than that, think a lil girl like me will break him out? What do you have to lose?”

Vincent smirked, tilting his head at Emily. ”Quite a bit, actually. The best I can give you is the screen, which should work for you. Unless you really wanted to ‘break him out’, which would be quite uncouth of you, sitting here on my lap.”

“I like men that have no fear, Vincent.” A finger tracing his jaw line to his lips, she frowns slightly. “Show me our dear boy Matty then, get the face time goin!”

A hand reached out as he grabbed her unruly fingers, a warning in his red eyes. ”No need to get carried away, Detective. Or I might keep you here indefinitely.”

He reached around Emily's waist, opening his phone and swiping to a certain app. Soon, four feeds of a small gray cell appeared from various angles, Mathieu seen seated in a chair. He pressed a button that ticked, highlighting green. The speaker.

”Go ahead, you can ask him whatever you like. He'll hear you.”

“That wouldn’t be so bad, wouldn’t it~?” Emily purred before looking onto the screen where the little Delacroix (unrelated to Adam and Eve of course) sat.

“Heeeeeeyyyy Matt, can you hear me !?”

Mathieu sat in the chair, his posture deceptively relaxed despite the dull, persistent ache radiating from his hand. He did not spare a glance at the bandaged ruin where his pinkie had once been; the absence was already etched into his awareness, more phantom than flesh. The pain was also inconsequential.

It was the silence that unsettled him, a vast and yawning thing that stretched its limbs across his cell, pressing in, pressing down.

Time had surrendered its meaning. The walls remained stolid. The air hung heavy with a persistent stale familiarity. Even the food-decent, almost laughably so- was nothing but another leash disguised as kindness. They fed him not to nourish but to remind him. Control was not exerted through chains but through consistency, routine, and the slow erosion of anything unexpected.

Then, a voice cut through the quiet.

His head inclined by a fraction like a man registering an unfamiliar song playing from a distant radio. Not Vincent. Not one of the guards. A woman. A voice honed with sing-songy amusement. Too casual. Too comfortable.

Someone who thought this was fun.

Mathieu exhaled softly, his gaze drifting to the ceiling now. He could picture the setup: a speaker wired into his cell, eyes on him from the other end of a monitor, waiting for his reaction.

He gave them nothing at first. Instead, he blinked once before looking down at his lap. And then…
I’m going to assume that wasn’t for me and give you a chance to correct yourself.

A pause. No panic. No aggression. Just the polite patience of a man sitting across from an overenthusiastic stranger in a coffee shop.

Then, as if offering a gracious clarification typical of him, he looked up at the ceiling and added: “Because I don’t believe we’ve met, and I’d hate to be rude.

“Name is Emily, kind of like Emilia?” She adjusts herself putting more Noc Noc weight on Vincent’s lap. “I know your sister, she like totally loves you and wants you out of here. I wanted to know how they’ve been treating you down there?”

Ah.” His voice was untouched by panic or defiance-just mild amusement as if this were some kind of routine conversation instead of a hostage situation. “You know, I have to say, the hospitality has been…généreuse. A personal doctor, three square meals a day, and someone even folded my clothes after my last shower.” He allowed a beat to pass before adding with a wry edge: “But the service took a bit of a hit after the whole ‘snipping off my fucking finger’ thing. Can’t say I’d recommend that part to you, Ms. Emily.

“I see I see, well your sister says I-L-Y and we’ll get you out so uhh… Have some hope lil’ guy help is on the way.” She snickers, letting Vincent hang up the call. He pulled the phone away a bit, before speaking softly into the mic.

”I'll have the men change you into some fresh clothes, as I'll be visiting you later today. Look forward to it~.”

Then he disconnected the feed, flicked his phone off, and stowed it away in his pocket. His arms returned to the arm rests, pointedly not touching Emily. He glanced at her, smirking.

”Satisfied, my dear?”

“Mmmm.. Yeah, I’ll get back to you on your proposal.” Click clack click, Emily was already walking towards the door hips doing their thang.

“You know the highest bidder wins, right~?” Clash purrs before making her exit.

Vincent merely sipped his tea in the silence after. ”I don't need to crack open your mind to see where your true allegiance lies… Detective.”



Aiden / Emily


A bit later in the day, when Emily had some time to return to her office, her work phone would have rang.

”Detective Newport.” Said a smooth voice on the other end of the line. Aiden, evidently. ”Come see me in my office when you have some time, mm?”

Emily hung up the phone without another word, god damn Aiden and his Aiden investigations she thought. She packed up her things and made her way down to the basement, yes that’s where the rat catcher lived. The rumors about a torture chamber, perhaps true as well! No one would have to torture the poor white haired detective, she was far too appealing for that. Upon reaching the boiler room, she knocked a small name plate showing this is where Aiden worked.

”Enter~” Said a cheery, baritone voice from within.

As Emily would step in, she would be treated with the low lights of Aiden's front office. The room smelled of disinfectant and dampness. There were stacks of paper scattered in the darkness, and a door off to the side - who knew where it led to, though.

Aiden sat in the chair facing the door, and he waved her over to sit in the chair opposite of him. He had a cool smile on his face as he stared at her over his spectacles, his messy hair the only striking color in the room.

A little swivel in his chair, was he excited to see her?

”Detective, very prompt. Please shut the door behind you and make yourself comfortable.”

As Emily would get comfy, his face would show a hint of steel, heavy, and carefully weighed words leaving his mouth.

”Before we get to business… Was there anything, anything at all, that you wished to share with me today, in complete confidence…?”

Emily went to close the door, would shut with a satisfying clunch much like a jail house door. She sat down and crossed her legs at the table looking over to the IA mastermind. “I’m tired over worked, look at me - saving the city one district at a time. That’s what I wanted to share dear.” She rubs a kink in her neck, no Mathias or Kairo to rub it out for the time being.

”Indeed, you've been the busy, overworked detective we love so much!” Aiden said, smiling.

”And I have just the note to showcase your dutiful work to the Commissioner and this city, if you'll have a listen with me…”

He pulled out his phone, swiping for a moment before he tapped the screen, cranked the volume, and placed the phone on the table for Emily to see. It was a simple voice recording which began to play. Emily would recognize it as her own voice.

"...Mmm... Impound this rust bucket, take them all to the station, and for their loot. You know what to do with it...”

Aiden was beaming at Emily as he pulled his phone back. ”Delightful, isn't it? Mind explaining the situation around this recording, Detective Newport? Remember, be honest with me.”

“Sounds like some kind of AI trick to me.” She smirked, deflecting the IA goons line of questioning. “Anyone can make anyone say whatever they want with the internet, I could have you saying or doing things too, but we don’t need a AI program for that Aiden~” Emily purred with a smirk.

Aiden's smile only grew. ”My, my, should I be worried for my own safety, Detective Newport?”

He picked out a card from the scraps on his desk and passed it to Emily. It was a loyalty card for a Noc Noc Burger branch.

”Go ahead, whisper a secret to that card there, quietly enough that I can't hear.” He said, still giving her that steady smile.

Emily whispers into the special noc noc card before tossing it back to the magician. “You might like what you hear.”

Aiden showed a little intrigued on his face. He didn't touch the card, instead leaning forward a little, hand pressed against his cheek and elbow on the table, like he was taking in a most captivating specimen.

”Can't very well ask you to strip, can I?” He said, hinting at her secret. ”Blue blood taddies, mm?

“As you can see, a card, so innocent-looking, can be turned to a listening device for yours truly. I've set them up in your life, Detective Newport, for quite some time bow. And I've been privy to all kinds of things. The kinds of things that would turn our white and perfect Commissioner red with rage if she knew.”


He still had that watchful, pleasant smile on his face, as if he were merely talking about the weather, waiting for Emily's reaction.

“If stripping would fix this then I might, like your trick Aiden. So skip to what you want from me, the NPD is full of criminals. No one benefits from me in jail, except me. So.. skip to the point darling.” She purred.

Aiden nodded, gesturing happily, ”Now we come to the point. I’m not a villain, Detective. I can keep a secret. For a fee, of course. Say, $5000 (0.5 Wealth every GM post) off your paycheck?”

“And that’s it, what’s the catch bub?”

Aiden smiled sweetly. ”No catch, you really think so lowly of me?”

Emily frowns. “No, but everyone is a blood sucking leech around here. If we leave it at that then I’ll pay it, try to squeeze more or out me. Then your ass is joining me in JB Supermax.”

Aiden nodded generously, ”I promise, my fee is fixed. You've been such a good girl, detective. I'll expect your donation sometime today. You're welcome to resume your day. Pleasant chat, this.”

Emily gets up from where she planted her Noc Nocs, dusting herself off she smiles. “Mmmm.. I do try to keep your fingers out of my pies less it’s one you want Aiden. Good girls don’t like their pies plugged.” She giggles leaving shortly after as 5000$ of Noc Noc stock comes his way into his trading account.
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Hidden 1 day ago Post by The Savant
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The Savant The darkening

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Past, present, and future




There might not have been a strong connection between any of the Kairo siblings though Jax had higher access to get into Asterion’s penthouse. As he stepped through that first portal and found himself in the entrance room, it was duller, moodier, and completely off. The whole area felt completely lost in darkness without his brother and he moved to the larger living room and looked around. It had been days since it was touched and Asterion wasn’t able to be in the safety of his shell. This was cold and lonely beyond comparison — Asterion could change an area with his presence.

Walking around the common areas for a minute, the voice made him jump, “Good evening, Jax. Asterion is currently in recovery. I am sorry to tell you that your brother is in critical condition,” the robotic feminine voice spoke out. “Is there anything that I can help you with?

Under his breath, he muttered — Eden — as if he needed to reassure himself that he was alone and it wasn’t a ghost speaking to him or something. Looking around the kitchen and living room, he nodded, “I want you to show me my brother… being human, being alive, please,” this was something that he needed. He knew that Eden was on her own electrical grid, camera system, and everything, since Asterion didn’t want her attached to anything public.

Looking around as if he was hopeful to see Asterion, warm tears began to roll down his cheeks, and his eyes closed, “I…” he began. “I know you and him are close in a sense. You are a smart system, you are like a companion to him, so you probably know him the best right?

One could say such a thing, yes. I am with your brother every time he is home. What would you like to see?” The lights began to dim, setting a mood, and one of the walls began to open up to expose a large flat screen T.V..

Jax looked towards the T.V. and while he began to move towards the sitting area, “I want to hear him. Sometimes when I would come visit, I would hear him playing the piano, but he would never play it in front of me or anyone for all I know. He was shy. I think it’s because he never got piano lessons as a kid so he didn’t think he was good at it but he played beautifully from the little that I could hear,” the man spoke softly while sitting down. That was when the T.V. turned on and began to flip through channels and figuring out what footage that she should bring up.

The screen began to play a recording, Asterion was wandering around the living area and talking to himself. Muttering so he could not be heard as he continued to speak to himself and take a sip of his water. Going to the window and staring out of it for a minute before sighing and closing his eyes. Asterion stood there for about ten minutes before opening his eyes and going over to the piano in the room, setting down the glass of water on the coffee table, and he began to set the piano up. Simply. He sat there and said a few things to himself that couldn’t be heard but seeing his mouth move; he was talking to himself. Something he seemed to do a lot. His eyes closed again as he began to test the keys with no sheet music in front of him and he listened for the sounds of the keys. Pressing one key, then a few more, and his eyes opened as he began to smoothly transition into playing a melody and he looked like he was at peace while playing and glancing out the window. His eyes didn’t focus on the music like his ears did.

Jax closed his eyes while listening to his brother play and he could see images in his mind. What the music was saying to him and he wondered what Asterion would see when he played music. If he would see anything at all. “I don’t think I could ever play that well,” he confessed to Eden when the song finished.

Asterion would play for hours a day, regularly committing an hour or two daily to playing, and he used playing the piano and music as a coping method,” Eden informed Jax. That was when another song began to echo out from the speakers. This melody that his brother began to play sounded sorrowful to him. Sad. Like pure loneliness in the audible sense. It caused him to frown as he listened to it.

As that song ended, Eden began to speak again, “Your brother suffers from obsessive personality disorder. He would sometimes play a single three-to-five minute song for hours on end. In recent months, your brother was accepting this, and we were having sessions of cognitive behavioral therapy to help him with this overall illness. Some textbooks would refer to Asterion’s strange behavior as ‘stuck song syndrome’, SSS, or earworm. If he was not playing a singular song for hours on end. Your brother would sit in the common rooms and listen to a singular song. His current favorite being La Maritza,” she explained and this caused Jax to frown. Hearing all of that was just depressing.

Is there anything else I can help you with, Jax?

There was no way that his brother was this sad… He never showed it. He was usually smiling. He shook his head, “Did my brother —” he paused to think about what he was going to say and if he should say it. “ — have emotions? Like breakdowns? If he was hiding this much sadness from everyone. What other emotions was he hiding?” He asked Eden. “I got the impression that he kept himself pretty collected in the eye of the public or around others but I think I am starting to understand that he keeps a distance from everyone when showing how he truly feels.

The T.V. screen started to change, flipping through videos, “Would you like to watch the current video of your brother having an emotional episode?

Those words scared him. He didn’t actually think Eden would pull up video evidence of his brother being emotional or having a breakdown. Staring at the symbol for play as he didn’t take another second to think about it, “No!” he rushed out the answer. “No, I don’t… I don’t actually want to see that. I want to see him doing something he loves or being happy or something,” he redirected what he wanted so he didn’t see anything that he didn’t want to see or anything that his brother didn’t want him to see.

As the screen flipped through so many different channels and recordings, it stopped, and a video began to play. It was Asterion pretending to dance with someone, dancing with himself, and Jax’s brows furrowed in confusion at first. What is he doing? This was the first thought that ran through his head before the video continued and he realized that Asterion was dancing alone. “Asterion enjoys dancing though he lacks dancing partners. He would jokingly ask if I would want to dance at times even though he understands that I do not have a physical form. This would make it impossible to dance together. Sometimes, he would grab a broom to dance with instead of dancing with no one but himself,” Eden explained.

This is sad… like really sad. Why doesn’t he go outside? Touch some grass? This cannot be healthy for him. I’ve just watched a half an hour of videos of him interacting with himself and playing music and dancing with no one. This is uncomfortably sad,” Jax spoke out.

His face twisted at the thought, “No one should die sad and lonely like that. God damn…. At this point, he probably wants to die. I would if I was this fucking miserable,” the words just came out without a thought.




I figured it out!” Erik was running through the halls in an attempt to find Krish and whoever else was around him. Sliding down the slick halls, looking into multiple rooms, and finally seeing a group of people in a room. “Krish!” the young silver haired man shouted and that caused everyone to jump out of their seats and look his way. He seemed surprised to get everyone’s attention and not only Krish’s, “Sorry… I didn’t mean to shout but I figured it out. Did Asterion have any other siblings? I figured out he and Jax have a compatibility of eighty-nine percent meaning that Jax is the highest compatibility at the moment but I was rummaging through all of his things and found a DNA sample that showed a 99% compatibility of female DNA,” he continued to explain. “Whoever this DNA belongs to is the best chance for Asterion’s survival and we need to find her. Now.

Krish seemed to brighten up a lot when he heard this before the reality settled in. “How are we going to find another sibling? I only knew about Jax and that’s because Jax comes around,” the redheaded man glanced over to Jax.

The man that resembled his best friend so well nodded, “We had a sister, Klara, but I haven’t seen or heard from her since we were adopted out. That’s been over a decade. She could be dead for all we know,” he shrugged as if it was a wild goose chase to even consider this idea. “All I know is she was adopted out to a preppy pompous family so even if she is alive. She probably thinks she is better than all of us and probably doesn’t remember me or Asterion,” he huffed out — Jax had felt like this for years. In his teen years, he tried so hard to find Klara, and the one time he found her on a social media site and tried talking to him. Once he exposed who he was, he was blocked on everything, and couldn’t ever find her again.

Erik huffed out, “We need to find her. I need this perfect guys. Perfect. Someone find Klara,” the man ordered before storming out of the room because his excitement was ruined by Jax’s negative reaction.

That was when everyone looked at Jax. Jax shook his head, “Absolutely not. I am not trying to find her. I do not have those credentials,” he continued.

You are going to find her,” Krish demanded.




How did he end up here? At the edge of a pristine property in Highfair. This wasn’t fair… not at all. The man was dressed up to blend in with the night and look discrete but he decided to put his own twist on it — looking similar to a low grade burglar that was showing his face because he couldn’t breathe in the mask. A fence around the whole property and he stepped up to it, “Let’s go,” that was when his one hand grabbed the fence and electricity shot through him like a bolt of lightning. He couldn’t scream as his body began to spasm and he was pulled off from the fence as he landed on the ground with a whining moan of pain. “that hurts…” he cried out as if he needed to catch his breath.

No shit sherlock,” Zarek hissed out. “Did you not listen when I said do. Not. touch. The. fence.?” he spat those words out.

Jax laid there for a few minutes before slowly getting up and leaning against the closest tree. “Climb the tree, get to the other side, and get up to that room,” Zarek pointed to a specific balcony on the estate. “That should be her room. You just need to get in, talk to her, and get out with her. We need her to keep Asterion alive,” Zarek was putting emphasis on Asterion’s survival counting on this.

Ok. Okay. Just give me a second,” Jax huffed a sigh out that sounded painful as he began to climb the tree weakly. As he slowly got himself to a thicker branch and began to move across it, he got to the end and it began to bend, and a snack could be heard. A snap then a loud thud. Jax groaned out in pain, “This concrete really hurts…” he slowly got up to his knees and looked to the other side of the fence.

Zarek shook his head, “Once you fail at this. I am going to rub it in Krish’s face that we should have done it my way and just kidnapped her,” he rolled his eyes and shook his head.

Jax looked offended while shaking his head a bit, “Fuck you, I can do this,” He got to his feet and began to look around then back at Zarek before continuing forward. Going up to the house, cautiously and carefully, and getting to the rough area of where he needed to climb to get to the balcony.

Getting near the edge of the building, he looked back, and noticed that Zarek was nowhere to be seen. For some reason that caused him to feel sick inside. He looked back up to the balcony that was two or two-and-a-half stories high up and he rolled to the ball and heel of his feet to try and pump himself up to start climbing. “I hate this…” he muttered under his breath as he went over to the building and found a good footing to start. Jax began to climb up the building, slowly, but surely getting closer and closer to the balcony.

Grabbing onto the ledge and pulling himself up, he rolled over the railing, and smacked against the balcony flooring while huffing and puffing. “I need to work out…” he muttered to himself as he let his hand fall off from the railing and in front of him while looking around to see no one noticed him. Thank the lord. The young man got himself to stand up on his knees while looking back to see that Zarek was still nowhere to be seen before he stood to his feet and began to walk towards the doors that led to the inside from the balcony.

Slowly going up to the door and checking to see if it was locked — it wasn’t — and he tried to quietly open it but there was a small squeak to the gesture that caused his stomach to curdle. Internally hoping that no one heard the noise as he entered the room to see it clear and he shut the door behind him. Doing his best to be as careful as possible and just as quiet, if not more, as he began to move around the room. It was dressed to the riches. Then that was when he saw a portrait on the wall, a family, but the daughter looking contrastingly beautiful to the rest of the family — Mother? No… Klara! — Klara looked just like their mother. They had the right room!

Then he began to turn and a searing pain shot through his face as he stumbled back and fell into a small side table as it cracked under his weight. Grabbing his face, blood was all over his hand, and he knew it was coming from his nose. “What the fu—” he interrupted.

Who are you!?” she shouted as she stood in a stance, ready to go at him, and her eyes analyzed each little movement. “Oh god. You are a burglar aren’t you? You are filthy and you smell bad… did you come from the trash?” It was not insulting enough to have his nose broken and gushing blood everywhere but she thought he was a sewer rat?

Jax’s brows furrowed, “At least I don’t look like a rat like you do. Where are your fucking manners? You bitch!

And you speak foully! Where did you come from 93rd street?” she began to move and Jax sprang up to stop her from whatever she was doing. Tackling her to the ground.

Hey! You are from there too! Do not act like you are better than me,” Jax and her were wrestling and he was overpowering her for the most part. Getting her subdued as he held her wrists in his hands and got a knee on each side of her and tucked into her sides so she couldn’t roll that much. “Have you forgotten who you are Klara? You came from 93rd just like I did. Just like our brother did. You really became a pompous brat, huh?

Magenta held her breath before she could let out a scream, she was shocked to hear such a statement from a stranger, and her family tried their best to keep it very underwraps that she was adopted. Either something twisted was going on here or this was one of her brothers — her eyes were still horrified. She looked terrified while she began to tremble a little. Was he here to kill her? To steal her away? What did he plan to do?

I didn’t know how to come and talk to you…” Jax began as he stared at his sister, feeling horrible because he could see the intensity in her eyes and the fear, and he dryly swallowed. “I need your help. Please?” His voice pleaded a little bit.

All her horror faded and she looked offended, “How do I even know you are telling the truth and if you are… we haven’t seen each other in a decade and so and you think I would help you with anything? I don’t know you!” she shouted at him and started struggling again.

Klara! It’s Jax, your little brother Jax! Please, please stop fighting and keep your voice down! You are going to get the authorities on us,” Jax was struggling with her again and she flipped them over before jabbing him in the lower buttox with her knee before struggling to get away from him. Ripping herself away from him and backing up. She was purely defensive in stature at the moment.

Jax jumped to his feet and held his hands up, “Please. Asterion is dying,” Maybe confessing that to her would get some sympathy or empathy or something… she couldn’t hate their older brother that much?

So what if he dies? He’s a monster, Jax. Have you seen the things he has done on T.V. — Do you not remember what he did to our mother? Our parents. He destroyed our family. Asterion has been sick for years, Jax. He is not okay in the head. He never has been, I told you that before we were separated, and I am telling you that now,” Klara backed up to a specific looking spot as she gestured for her fingers to curl under a piece of furniture behind her — a button that would call the estate guards.

You need to leave. I want nothing to do with you or him,” she demanded while having her fingers on the button without pressing it.

Jax looked so hurt, “Well, you might think that, but you don’t actually know him. If you knew him, you would know he isn’t a monster. He has good in him. He’s looked out for me all these years. He always brings you up, worries about you, and he tries his best for his people. I know, he has done some fucked up things, but he’s our brother. Please? Doctor Erik says you are the best chance he has. You two are a ninety-nine percent compatibility. I’m not that compatible with him and he needs a host that isn’t going to accidentally kick him out or erase him from existence,” Jax continued to speak. Trying to get through to her.

Magenta shook her head in the negative, “No, I am not playing a sick game like that. I am not letting him anywhere near me. You and Doctor Erik can figure it out. I am not letting that murder anywhere near me. I bet he would kill me for his own survival, Jax. He’s tricking you,” she protested while her hand began to tremble even more.

Please! It won’t kill you. Doctor Erik is certain that the only thing that could go wrong is Asterion losing his own life. You need to help him! He’s family!” Jax shouted while holding his nose and face because blood was still coming out of it and it began to ache beyond what he could deal with. His eyes were watering, not just from the pain of a bloody nose, but his sister being so difficult but he understood at the same time. They were strangers. She grew up privileged. Why would she even consider helping them at all? Especially when she sees Asterion as a monster. That was when she pressed the button and a ringing echoed out.

Jax’s eyes widened. “You did not just hit that button you fucking bitch,” the man pointed at her accusingly. That was when Magenta began to scream for the guards. The man began to move across the room and towards the balcony. Before exiting the room, he looked back with such little hope in his eyes, so much disappointment, and a whole stance of betrayal. This was not the Klara he knew or remembered — they really were strangers. Without hesitation he went out the balcony doors and slammed them. Giving him a few more seconds if the guards were to bust through her door at any minute.

Getting down the way he came up, Jax was rushing to the electric fence, and trying his best to get out of that whole area. Panic set in when he heard hounds — the cries of hungry dogs. “Fuck me. Fuck me. I should have not listened to Krish. We should have gone with Zarek’s plan,” he continued to move while getting to the fence and trying to find a place to climb up and around it without touching it. Then he saw a tree down the way and he began to sprint to it. Jumping up onto the tree and beginning to climb, that was when he heard a snap, and looked down to a dog jumping up at him. Kicking the dog in the face, “Sorry. I am so sorry,” he stated as he got up the tree safely and rushed over the fence and ran off.

Zarek came around with a vehicle, opening the passenger door, and leaning over and dragging him in before driving off. Jax positioned himself and closed the door, “Fucking hell. He’s going to die. She hates him. She doesn’t even know him! And she hates him!” Jax put his face into his hands and began to cry.




There were no more tears to cry as the child kept himself curled up. His knees were cramped up to his chest while his forehead sat on his knees and his arms wrapped around his head to protect himself. I do not want to go back, he whispered. The boy looked around the age of twelve, he was scrawny, too thin for his height, and he was awfully dressed. Looking homeless. Like he came from the streets. Nothing hurts here. I do not want to leave. I do not want to hurt anymore… nothing in his body ached. It was such a peaceful and accepting feeling, there was no pain, no tremors, no spasms, he hadn’t had a single neurological issue since arriving in this dark landscape, and he couldn’t hear any of the voices that echoed in his mind constantly — begging for help. Hearing everyone else’s traumas. No more suffrage was echoing out inside of him. No visuals showing how horrible people could be to each other. There was absolutely nothing except the peace and sense of self that he longed for. Not being mixed up like he was.

This place was a beautiful calm.

An infinity chamber of comforting warmth.

Asterion wanted to close his eyes that were bloodshot from crying so much, crying from relief, and his eyelids felt so heavy. He wanted to close his eyes but something continued to remind him that he couldn’t. Not yet. If you can hear me… he started as he looked up from his curled up state. whatever you are. Whoever you could be. I do not wish to go back. I am not going back. I hate it there. I hate my body. I dread my mind. I cannot stand any of it anymore. It constantly feels like someone is slowly tearing my mind in half. My body is not my body anymore. It does not belong to me. I do not want to go back. I do not want to tell Jax that our mother loves us. I do not want to open my eyes even if they are beautiful. No one deserves to see my eyes anymore, a palm came up to his face as he was rubbing at his eyes.

Everything was better here, it was a step from pure darkness, as a little bit of light reflected off the dark surfaces. Peaceful. Calm. Warm. It was the embodiment of comfort. As it was beginning to be hard for him to not close his eyes again, he wanted to fade into the darkness, but there was a constant reminder at the back of his mind every time he thought about it. Asterion. It’s not your time. It would whisper out. Someone needs you. It would add. Do not give up. It would continue to remind him that he shouldn’t give up and close his eyes. That he had more to live for. That he needed to keep fighting. It was so difficult to keep fighting.

The ground began to move one more, Not again, — it began to consume him and he tried standing up to fight it. To get away from whatever it was. Thousands of shadowed hands were coming up from the dark floor and grabbing onto him. His attempts to fight whatever this was was a losing battle in itself. They dragged him under the surface as he was consumed by the warm darkness and within a second, he felt like he was floating in space, and he couldn’t tell his directions. He felt at peace in such a state, not panicking, and he began to let his body sink into the comforts of darkness. Light was disappearing and he was being consumed by total darkness. Thoughts began to quiet. He couldn’t hear anything anymore. Everything felt comfortably heavy and blissfully weightless at the same time. A single breath could be taken as his eyes shut…


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Hidden 1 day ago Post by SporkoBug
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SporkoBug The Cosmic Engineer

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Harriets Orphanage, Hamlet


Harriet stared towards her phone, she was worried - Terrified, even; that things wouldn’t work out for them.
She had put so many resources and men into this, expansion was one thing - She was sitting comfortably with Hamlet and Bazaar; she needn’t push anyone out of their spot without any real reason to do so. But upgrading was another thing.

Admittedly she was putting most of her resources into Hamlet rather than Bazaar, but Hamlet held her home and the main Orphanage. Most of her staff lived in Bazaar and had easy travel access to Hamlet; both places were safe, and they were safe by her hand.

Her phone buzzed, it almost made the raptor-woman leap out of her own feathers, moving to grab her phone and answer it.
”Please tell me good news, I’m stressed enough as it is.” She spoke down the phone quickly, Emu only laughing in response.
”Calm your avian tits.” He said before he paused, [b]”Calm your… breast bone? Keel? You know what I mean.”[/color][/b] There was the sound of clattering behind him.

Harriet waited, biting her tongue on telling Emu to spit it out.
”But good news, yes. Hamlet is no longer a Poor district! Paid out, gave them what they wanted. Moneys’ coming in!” Emu said with a grin.
”You’re welcome!” Came Nyks’ voice in the background. Emu gave a chuckle.
”Seriously Harry, you can calm down a little. We’re in a good spot, we’re going out for drinks later; your favorite place. I’d love to have you there, Von said He’d look after Calem for you.” Emu explained, Harriet gave a soft sigh and a laugh.

A rare moment of relaxation in her life.
”Sure, sounds lovely.” She said before Emu said goodbye and hung up. Harriet took a moment to close her eyes as she let out a long, shaky breath.

”A rare moment of success for you, Ms Talon.” A voice came from in front of Harriet. She looked up from her desk, up at the woman standing in front of her.
Harriet jolted back in her chair, ”Jesus Fuck-!” She said, moving to grab her concealed pistol under her desk and pointed it directly at the woman.

The black haired woman simply smiled at the avian woman. Her arms were tucked behind her back - a show of relaxation, a show that told Harriet the woman meant no harm.
”I’m sure you know who I am.” The woman said with a small smile, moving to sit on the chair on the other side of Harriets’ desk. ”And I promise I’m not here to harm you. I’m here to congratulate you. The crows told me of everything you’ve people have done; and they tell me of Calems’ gyft. He will be a strong boy, you should be proud.”
Harriet stayed tense, but lowered her pistol, keeping it in her hands in case she needed it.
”How do you know-” She started to ask before her eyes widened. ”Those fucking birds.” She pieced together, the Morrigan had mentioned Crows, fuck.

”And if you would allow me to speak freely.” The Morrigan spoke softly, Harriet giving a small nod before she grinned almost manically. ”I believe your other half is back in Nocturnia.”
Harriet dropped her gun at those words, moving to stand and slammed her hands into the table. ”Don’t fucking lie to me!” She almost yelled, luckily her office was soundproof so the kids couldn’t hear her swearing.

The Morrigan looked at Harriet, almost unphased by her words. ”I assure you, my young bird. The crows and I, do not lie. For he is here, trapped; they found him sneaking into the city - and the knowledge of how he got out originally has him caged.”
”Hah, they won’t hold him for long.” Harriet laughed at the womans words, but the Morrigan finally frowned.
”They have found a way to neutralize his gyft, he is unable to break out. He will need your help.”

Harriet hesitated, her hands balling to fists against the desk, ”Where is he?” She almost growled, the Morrigan pulled a piece of paper out of nowhere; it was folded and gilded with a gold mark. The mysterious woman placed it onto Harriets’ desk before she stood and strode to the window.
”I wish you well, young raptor. I cannot interfere; but I can help.” She winked, before she opened the window and stepped out; dispersing into a cloud of crows as she disappeared.

Fuck me. Harriet thought to herself, tucking the paper into her pocket. She’d read it later. They’d come up with a plan later; she’d get the others together and figure something out.
It was time for relaxation.


Hours Later - The Bird Cage bar; Bazaar


Emu, Haast and Nyk were already sitting at a table; the coloured lights softly flickering between the greens and blues they were programmed to.
Harriet entered the bar slowly, her feathered ears drooped as she walked along.

”Harry!” Emu called out from his comfortable spot against Haast, her arm lovingly around her husband as he rested half against her, half against the padded booth.
Nyk looked over as the raptor headed over to the table and sat beside him, breathing out slowly and feigning a smile.
”What a fucking day, huh?” Harriet said, getting a laugh from everyone else.
”Worth it.” Nyk said with a grin, ”Better district means we’re able to spend more on the Gummi’s, which also means we can get them out to a wider audience.”
”Franchising already?” Haast asked with a smirk, ”What, will you team up with Noc Noc and sell your shit through there?”
Nyk poked his tongue to Haast as they bickered about the mere idea of Nyk’s ‘amazing’ product being alongside Noc Noc Burger of all things.

Emu was watching Harriet as she ordered a drink and stayed silent. She breathed in slowly before she looked up and saw him looking at her.
”Whats up?” He asked, Harriet looked away, avoiding his eyes for a moment. ”You can tell us, we’re your team, remember?”
Harriet nodded before she breathed out.
”It’s Tyran.” She said quietly, Emu almost misheard her. ”He’s back in the city…”

It felt like everything had stopped; Haast and Nyk immediately stopped their bickering as they looked towards Harriet, Emu almost dropping his fancy cocktail as he stared at her.
”What?” They all asked in unison.


Hamlet has been Upgraded to Comfortable.

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Akula Gun Team Clover, Rada Hanak






Brewery District - Highrise Raceway


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Snaptrap clapped his hands as the target went down. “Good shot! Guess that rifle isn’t a waste on you.” Puddle brushed his thumb against the weapon still trying to focus on the windage. Snaptrap wouldn’t see it, but a smile was creeping up Puddle’s face at the compliment.

He adjusted the rifle ever so minutely in his hands, the perfect balance reacting exactly as expected to his movements. Eye straining down the scope he stared down another can. Finger squeezed. The trail fell through the air before a another burst of beer splashed over the tarmac of the distant bridge that spanned between the towers of the Brewery district.

Snaptrap whooped. “Another, not bad killer, at this rate every six pack of booze will know to fear you.”

Puddle sat back, disarming the weapon and admiring it in his hands. “I have to say the rifle is doing half the work. When you said you guys could get anything, I didn’t think you could get this.” His fingers traced down the side of the bullpup marksman rifle, appreciating everything from the perfection of its firing mechanism to the imperfections in its wooden body. Under the scope an Akula gunsmith even managed to fix in backup iron sights for when the fighting closed in, or the scope failed.

Snaptrap bounced his head nodding. “Yeah man we’re smugglers. We get all the good shit, and we make sure we look after our own first. The more rare or expensive the longer it takes but we always get there, in your case you got lucky we happened to have that already.” He gave Puddle a light kick. “And that’s not the rifle, you’ve got some skills son, wind blowing as it is up here it’s a miracle you hit anything at all.”

Rada shot out a mouthful of snark from behind. “He’s just getting lucky. Bet I could do better than the new nerd.”

Snaptrap’s eyes squinted. “The hell-. You’re a driver not a shooter. Sure, you put me to shame on the track but you ain’t no hit girl.”

Rada’s mouth curled. “Well then give me a go and I’ll show you both.” She marched over snatching at the rifle. “Come on let me show you what I’ve got, or you both scared?”

Puddle certainly felt a touch of fear. “What- Dude- No! Knowing you you’ll drop it and plant a ball of three’o’eight in me.”

Snaptrap chuckled. “Or herself. Ah screw it pass it on don’t hog it. I want to see how badly this goes.”

Puddle’s visor reflected the grim moment the weapon entered Rada’s hands, and she wasted no time slapping a magazine in before fiddling around trying to find the bolt. Eventually she pulled something back and to her delight the weapon thunked as it delivered a bullet to the receiver. She snickered. “You guys are so screwed. I can see the path of the bullet, literally playing with hacks. There’s no way either of you could beat me.”

What she didn’t acknowledge was that she had no idea how to properly fire a rifle, or any firearm for that matter. Drowning in confidence she snatched at the trigger, and the path she saw quickly darted off the target, off the bridge and down toward the streets below before the bullet left the barrel.

In unison. “OH FUCK!

Puddle scrambled for binoculars scanning for a casualty while Snaptrap tore the rifle from Rada’s hands as she raised them to clasp her head. “Oh god I didn’t- I’m sorry-!”

Snaptrap shot back. “Shuddup! Puddle, you see red?”

The binoculars frantically scanned the roads not detecting any chaos below. Slowly he became more methodical before looking up at Snaptrap. “If it hit someone, I can’t see it.”

Rada peeped up. “I think I saw the path going into the waterway right before the flash…”

Snaptrap just shook his head. “Holy shit I hope so. You’re real lucky you know that?” He reached around for his mutant of a rifle. “This. Is. Not. A. Toy. It’s a tool for killing people. Learn that before you do something stupid yeah?”

Rada muttered something but eventually nodded. As they sat quietly for a moment Donkey approached from behind, scanning the three before voicing his concerns. “What the hell did you do.”

Puddle’s eyes shifted. “Nothing, what makes you think we did anything?”

Donkey spat back. “Because your quiet, you three chucklefucks are never quiet.” He grunted and got onto why he was here. “We’re heading back and packing to move, asap. No arguments. Rada, double time us.”

Rada broke from her fuzz at once on the request, jogging to her car and swinging into the driver’s seat. Puddle packed up his rifle while Snaptrap threw his hands to his side. “What the hell for? There’s no alert, we’re on R&R still after that warehouse clusterfuck, so no orders. What’s the rush?”

Donkey opened the trunk. “No alert, no orders. Warning from a friend. Misty. We’ll know more when we have a chat.”

Snaptrap cooed. “Aww Donkey finally found a giiiirl friiiiend~! Gonna get his di-.”

Donkey slammed the trunk. “Get the FUCK in the car!”

Snaptrap jumped, then complied and stayed silent. Rada on the other hand was as excited as ever behind the wheel and felt the need to try beat a personal best through the bridges webbing across the Brewery district skyline. Donkey encouraged the haste, Snaptrap eventually cheered along with it while Puddle hugged his rifle for dear life as the wheels threatened to fly off the edge.
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Adel Dawson - The Canary, Khor Kosović - The Eel






Collab with: @Yankee
Don't You Know We're in White Pine?!
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Adel left the barber shop. Unlike when he entered with one of Vincent's goons on either arm, as he walked out he was alone. He didn't even seem worse for wear either - not a scratch on him, and he'd smoothed out his more casual clothes before he'd stepped out.

The door's bell chimed as it closed behind him. The first thing he did was shove his hand into his pocket and withdraw a carton of cigarettes. He tapped one out and held it between his lips, replacing the carton in his hand with a lighter.

Before he could take a much needed drag, before even being able to light the thing he spotted a helmeted figure jogging up the path. What gained his attention though was the chainsaw in their hands.

Oh hell no, he thought, moving quickly to meet the individual halfway.

Khor scuffled to a stop in front of Adel. “Oh! You got out quick.”

They stood there as if nothing was out of the ordinary, beginning to converse as if they just bumped into Adel while on a run. “Thought you were in real trouble there for a second, that my day was going from meeting to mission.” Khor chuckled and threw the chainsaw over their shoulder, safety handle holstering it almost like a rifle. “Well at least I won’t need a shower now.” They bounced the chainsaw in cadence as one would calm an infant.

Khor’s eyes softened a little bit. “You ok? Who were those guys?”

There were so many questions to be asked, but Khor's was definitely the most important one at the moment.

"We're in White Pine, who the fuck do you think they were?" Adel hissed quietly, spinning Khor around and guiding them briskly away from the area. They generally moved eastward, but more importantly they had to duck out of view from any street cameras.

Only when they were completely out of sight did Adel allow them to stop moving. He easily sidestepped Khor's other question by asking, "What are you doing here? With that?"

Khor stepped back, bouncing the chainsaw off their shoulder and holding it with both hands like a prize. “This? Well I saw you get picked up by those thugs and had to do something. Ducked into a second hand tool shop to find something to tip the balance and they just had this.” Khor extended their arms forward to show off the mangy creature of a machine. “Asked for a test run, got it fueled and oiled quickly, sure enough it worked so I grabbed it and ran over to help.” Khor finally began to absorb the Canary’s frustration.

They pulled the chainsaw back to cradle it in one arm while putting out their open hand. “Don’t worry, I paid for it, even a little extra probably. Didn’t exactly have time to count it on the whole account of your predicament.” They answered as if that was the concern the Canary had about the whole situation. Khor didn’t pause. “Needed to talk to you about the heist and didn’t want to interrupt your business till you took a break, at least until those goons did.” Khor tried to snap their gloved fingers without effect and pointed at the Canary. “Speaking of goons and being in White Pine, those were definitely Vincent’s boys weren’t they?”

It was crazy that The Eel thought they could fight off bullets with a chainsaw, but that they had apparently done it to mount a misguided rescue was even crazier. Adel didn't know if he should be flattered or insulted. At the moment, he was just flabbergasted.

He paused a moment to gather his wits about him again, taking the time to finally light up. He regarded Khor during that moment, eyes flicking over their helmet and frame. He pulled the smoke into his lungs, held it, then let it out. Okay, back to neutral.

"Yes. Just a little meeting," he said. The Eel didn't need to know that it had started off non-consensual. It had ended fine, and that was what mattered to Adel. He was alive and had a plan.

Now Khor on the other hand.

"You're going to get yourself killed," he pointed out, indicating the landscaping weapon by tilting the smoldering end of his cigarette at it. "If Vincenzo hadn't been occupied he'd have already had you shot to hell, running around masked up with that thing."

And they would probably get Adel killed too now, by association. Just great. Out of the frying pan and into the fire, huh? There was one other thing Khor said too that didn't sit quite right. He had a bad feeling about the answer, but the question had to be asked anyway. "Why would you come all the way out here to talk about the heist...?"

Khor scoffed. “Little meeting- don’t treat me like an idiot. When I see a little birdy getting picked up by two boys built like boulders I’m not waiting around for them to make you sing like your name sake or treat you like a twink in a bounce house.” Khor stopped, their eyes darted away then back to the Canary. “Unless you're into that, I don’t judge if it's your thing- shit not the point. I know Vincent has a reputation, so I didn’t exactly have the time to plan out a tactical breach.”

If Adel's cigarette had still been in his mouth he would have bitten it in half at the suggestive comments. Thankful that he wasn't wearing his specs Adel slapped a hand over his face, thumb and fingers pinching each temple of his forehead while the palm of his hand obscured the slight pink dusting on his nose and cheeks until he fought himself back to the unfeeling mask again. Oh my God, he thought.

Khor pulled out a sawn off double barrel shotgun with their free hand. “And I doubt you’d have appreciated me busting in with this little number. Not exactly precise, this thing.” Khor raised the chainsaw by the handle. “Least with this I’d get a moment of shock, maybe force an error, and that’s all I would’ve needed to get you out. No bodies. No mess. Free bird flying.” Khor tilted their head. “Or if you’d like next time I can wait for them to slit your throat while I go home, gear up, make sure I do it right you know? None of this improvising in the moment because your neighbour and potential partner in crime decided to get picked up while wandering around enemy territory aimlessly.”

Khor stood exasperated before relaxing themself. The Canary got out fine, that’s what mattered. Khor answered their last question. “I’m here because our potential target is in White Pine. Spotted you wandering around the street and decided you might need a guardian angel.” Khor shrugged. “For what it’s worth, I’m glad you didn’t-.”

Khor’s phone buzzed. “Goddamnit… One moment.” The sawn off disappeared back into the jacket and in its place an old phone flipped open, Khor’s eyes going weary reading the message before snapping it shut and taking a breath before speaking again. “Weird question. Little incident in the Brewery district not long ago. A certain… freak blizzard mowing down a street.” Khor rocked the chainsaw gently for the fuel to slosh back and forth in the tank. “Wouldn’t happen to know aannyything about that, would you?”

It was pure professionalism that allowed Adel to stand there, exuding no hints to his mental state, rather than turn to the brick wall and bash his head against it as Khor continued to talk. They were so unlike every other faction leader in Nocturnia that with this second meeting, Adel determined that Khor was his natural counter. And he had no answer to this genuine person who had been willing to run in to threaten Vincent Accardo to possibly save someone they'd met for the first time only last night. There was no logic Adel could find to grasp onto with Khor. At least not at the moment.

Adel took another puff when Khor answered their text. That bad feeling he'd had when Khor brought the heist up was still there, and the throwaway comment they'd made about the potential target being in White Pine basically confirmed his suspicion. He'd inquire more about it in a moment. First, he owed Khor an answer - but it probably wasn't the one they wanted to hear.

"Of course I do. But it's not free," he said. There was no sign whatsoever that the Silver Canary felt anything about the event, one way or the other. "Also, I wasn't wandering around. Stop saying that."

He flicked the ashes away. "This really isn't the place to be discussing... anything. If you need something in White Pine, do it quick and we can keep talking when we're back across the river."

Khor squinted. “Not free huh?” They shook their head, then walked toward the Canary as if to pass him by before shooting a hand out, grabbing him by the collar and dragging him along. “Too bad my boys just told me whatever you had to say about it in that little message. Because of that little lie you get to watch me do my job! I’m stealing one of those Vinnie boys and you can witness our little chat from the shadows, observe some real intel wet work! Surely you haven’t forgotten how all your pretty little secrets come about to begin with right?” Khor’s head bounced with sudden energy. “Man, I'm glad I grabbed this chainsaw!

Khor stopped and shot their head around to face Adel again. “Oh and don’t worry, we’ll all be in a nice secluded place where no one will bother us, so when I’m done with the big man, we can talk aallll about everything in the world without worry.” Khor winked and turned, marching and tugging all the same as before. “No time like the present my boy! Oh and I’ll stop calling it ‘wandering around’ when you decide to stop getting abducted, how’s that for a deal?”

Adel wrenched himself free from Khor's grasp, staggering back a few steps before they breached the end of the alley. The set in his jaw and the spark in his eyes might imply to those who knew him best that he was incensed - but for Khor, all they would see was mild annoyance. He was a grown man, he didn't need supervising or admonishment from an unhinged babysitter (and okay, sure, twice in one week was a little much as far as abductions went, but Khor only knew about one).

"You're acting way too familiar with me," he said, his voice hard. It appeared that in addition to not wanting anyone to actually know anything about him, Adel didn't even like people acting as if they did. "You asked if I knew anything, and I do. Hardly a lie."

He wasn't stupid, he figured from the question about it that Khor had learned what had really happened. How they'd learned it was another matter, but Adel figured he knew that too. Fucking Cyrus. He couldn't begrudge the man at all, it was the nature of the business, but he'd have to find out how the hell he had found out. As for if he would actually have lied to Khor about the details, he didn't know. If they'd paid him, he might have come clean. It was too late for that, though.

Adel was prepared to walk away right then and let Khor go onto part one of their suicide run. It was the logical part of his brain that stopped him. If The Eel went down, Brewery would be taken over by someone else. Someone worse, most likely. Maybe that person they'd mentioned that had wanted to make a move on Silverside. And he was already here - a first hand account was valuable.

Always business first.

The man let out a quick puff breath, clenching the remainder of his cigarette in his hand, uncaring for the little burn. And just like that he was fine again.

"I'll come to make sure things don't immediately go off the rails."

Khor balled up their hand and threw it across their chest. “Thatta boy. We’ll both learn a bunch from this little outing, and don’t worry.” Khor’s eyes curled.

It’ll be fun.





Collab with: @Estylwen, @Yankee
Undisclosed Warehouse, White Pine
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The warehouse was like most others in White Pine. Buried under local infrastructure and shielded by the sounds of heavy industry. The plan had gone without a hitch, Khor waited for the right moment and the second one of Vincent’s men wandered off they struck him with a lead pipe. Dragging them off, stopping only to check they hadn’t accidentally killed him, they’d arrived at this place that Adel might describe as foreboding and Khor would as homely.

Having just hoisted the man up by his ankles he swung limply as Khor walked behind a screen still within Adel’s sight in the shadows above. Khor placed the chainsaw down and stretched out casually. Soon their thumbs slipped under the waistband of their pants and began to shimmy them off displaying something about them. A woman.

Soon the thick jacket came off revealing a singlet that also supported that fact, if barely. Lastly she moved her hands to unbuckle her helmet, speaking out as if to no one within the walls. “No point getting my clothes splattered if this gets messy. Can’t imagine the public appreciating the sight of that.”

With that Khor lifted the helmet off her head. Shaking a tidy short bob of straight black hair that rested just below her chin. She held the helmet for a moment, spinning it around to look at her reflection in the visor. “No point hiding what you are now hun. Need to find out what he knows.” She placed the helmet down on the roughly folded clothes. Khor allowed an almost deflated chuckle under her breath. “Let's hope he doesn’t need to see a fucking monster before he squeals.”

She walked toward the hanging man barefoot, wearing skivvies alone. It was when the light displayed her that she could be taken into full detail. An ordinary if not meek woman, wiry in build suggesting at least only half the strength she appeared to have in full gear. It was her face that told the most though. For someone so full of energy she looked old, worn out even, as if her body wasn’t her own or betrayed her youth in some way. She moved impatiently as if she was trying to ignore that fact, placing the chainsaw on a crate next to the hanging man and sat down, legs crossed and began slapping his cheek. “Hey, buddy. Little guy. Matey boy. Frenby lad. Muscle cakes.”

Khor went on until the man eventually opened his eyes. And open his eyes he did, staring clearly, confusedly, before he realized he was upside down, and flinched in the air. ”What the fuck-”

His arms flailed blindly, realization dawning on him that not only was he upside down, but he was thoroughly stuck.

Then, his eyes focused on the woman in nothing but her under garments, and his arms flopped weakly. ”Oh fuck….”

And he realized she was likely naked for a reason. A reason that meant a lot, a lot of bad news for him, and another stream of curses left his mouth, before he snapped.

”The hell do you want? You know you got some balls- don't you know who my boss is?!”

Khor gave a simple smile. “That I doooo~. In fact that’s exactly why you're here.” Letting the silence gain Khor took a more relaxed pose leaning back onto her hands. “First of all though, and don’t worry we’ll start off real easy, I want to know who you might be. You know, what you like about your job, what you do for fun, your name if you're feeling generous.”

The man gritted his teeth. She was just seeing if he would talk at all, was she? Sure, he'd talk.

”I really like sleeping on the job, my most favourite thing to do.”

As he spoke, he tried to discreetly wiggle his feet. The blood was most definitely rushing to his head, making everything kinda fuzzy. His hand passed over his scalp- yep. Goose egg forming where he took a blow. That would take some time to heal...

Maybe- how secure was he?

”As for what I like to do for fun, definitely taxes. Lots of taxes.”

He wriggled his feet a little more vigorously, trying to see if there was any give in the ropes to slip. Alas, the rope was tied good. The knot even seemed to grow tighter almost on its own, the loop closing as much as physically possible even as he attempted to loosen it. Kept catching his shoe, bone of his ankle and his heel. Maybe if he reefed on it. Then again, he didn't think pretty eyes would just sit there and let him try to escape.

Instead, he forced a grim grin. ”And my name is the Grinch.”

Khor let out a genuine laugh. “You Sicilian wiseguy wannabes are always fun. Always a good time to see you boys make the most of the worst situations.” Khor stood up. “Got a job to do unfortunately though, so we should get down to it proper.”

Khor placed a hand on the chainsaw handle, ripping the cord once for a growl, twice for a roar that settled down to a grumbling. Tightening a cable tie around the safety switch on the handle she dragged the crate so it sat beside her clearly in the ‘Grinch’s’ view, gently rumbling in anticipation as if a dog staring intently for a treat. Khor lifted a knee and rested her elbow on it with head in her hand. “I find some background noise helps me focus, a bit of ambience, stops the mind wandering. Don’t mind, do you?”

The man had flinched as the chainsaw roared to life, gaze torn between staring at the chainsaw, and at Khor.

”You wouldn't fuckin’ dare.” He bit out.

Khor huffed. “Dude. Look at it. When was the last time…” She threw her hands to the side to encapsulate the wonderful specimen of machinery beside her. “...that you saw a freaking chainsaw? In Nocturnia? I don’t think you understand how excited I am to use this. In fact, you’re going to have to work very hard to stay alive because if I start.” She felt an uneven giggle escape her. “I don’t know if I’ll stop.”

She smiled, eyes wide, then closed, opening again only when she found herself balanced again. “So first real question. I’m new around White Pine. What landmarks do you have around here? The expensive kind.”

The man swallowed hoarsely, suddenly feeling his mouth go very dry. He doubted she was telling the truth when she said she was new, but maybe he could give the appearance of compliance. Give her scraps that wouldn't hurt the boss.

”...We've got some corporate towers, some banks, hell, some eateries. What exactly are you looking for?” He said, keeping his answer vague, trying to wrack his mind on how to navigate this without getting minced.

Khor jumped at a part of that. “Oh! Banks! I love a classic! Maybe maybe maybe…” She brought her hand to chin. “That being said though. For this being Vinnie’s ground, you sure have a lot of bikers around here, and they seem to really like one or two warehouses round and about. What about those?” The chainsaw seemed to jump in protest of being left to idle.

The man gritted his teeth. ”The warehouses?” There was a pause as he wracked his brain. ”You're uh, outta luck. Those suckers are uhm, empty. Moved all the goods just last week.” He said, lying through his teeth.

Khor just let her hand slap atop the chainsaw, a rev as she replied. “uuuhhh, uuumm, whhaaaaats in the warehouses?”

The man felt trepidation slick his forehead in sweat, cursing under his breath before snapping out, ”I told you, they're e-empty!”

Khor’s hands snatched the chainsaw. Shooting up to her feet with the throttle pinned, machine squealing in delight, chain slashing the ground kicking debris about. Khor cheered. “Oh I’m getting pretty excited buddy! Kind of hoped you didn’t have anything to tell me! Are you ready for the ride son? Ride of a lifetime!?” She let out a heavy breath, not making sense, just saying what came to mind. “Come on let's go for a journey into the abyss you and me compadres into that deep black! Under the seeeaaa!

The man flinched and struggled, trying desperately to put any distance between him and pretty eyes with the chainsaw. Alas, all his movement did was cause him to swing a little closer to the shrieking madness unfolding before him. Still well hidden above, Adel winced. He did not envy the man at all, and he was quickly learning (among other things during this interrogation) that the Eel was some kind of insane person. One that had apparently taken liking him, but an insane person nonetheless.

”Fuck, you're fuckin’ mad! Fine, I'll tell you, I'll tell you, don't kill me! Please!”

Khor didn’t seem to hear, or care, lost in the moment. “Oh what’s that sonar man the submarine has been pinged???” She raised the chainsaw above her head, angling the end toward the man. “Quickly crash dive! Los! Los! Lo-.” She stopped suddenly flicking the kill switch, the chainsaw fighting being shut off with a rough grumbling before shuddering to a stop. Khor leant down taking a knee beside the man. “Shit you lost the whole Scilian act and everything, are you really Scilian or just kind of like, enjoy the play pretend? Wait, no. See? This is why I need the ambience, keeps me focussed. Anyway, warehouses?”

The man looked like he had seen his own ghost. Or perhaps heaven, for a split second. His voice came out jittery and quick, like he couldn't speak fast enough.

”The warehouses hold shit, like gold, art pieces, jewelry, alcohol, slot machines. Lots of things you can spin for a price. But he's also moved his drug business there, and stacks of Sugarcrush are slowly being prepared to move out. And… There are semi-truck trailers. They get moved in and out of the loading bay quick. No one ever sees what's in ‘em.”

Khor fell back on herself, eyes wandering with whimsy. “That is quite the prize.”

She just enjoyed the idea of offloading as much as she could, but it was the thought of the opposition that her heart leapt at. Hell of a fight to be had, for sure. She turned her head back to the man, chuckling. “That is probably the most exciting thing I’ve heard in awhile.”

Then her head tilted, bob of hair falling over an eye. “And I trust there’s ALOT of opposition between the world and that haul. To do with the bikers of White Pine, no doubt?”

The man nodded vigorously. ”They got Heavy Crossguard locked up with an iron fist, especially since the Boss is personally overseeing daily operations now. They say the leader of the Wolves can sense vibrations in the ground, and he can grind you to dust between two stones!”

Khor blinked. “Wait Heavy Crossguard- Wolves? He has an entire gang under his thumb?” She got low with palms on the ground gazing up at the man just underneath him. “What’s in Heavy Crossguard?” Khor let up a bit. “Last question and you might be in the clear. You’ve survived this long, it would be a shame to hold back now.”

The man blinked confusedly, ”You… don't know? The… the warehouses, those are in Heavy Crossguard. White Pine holds the boss’ headquarters, the money is made in Heavy Crossguard.”

Khor put her fingers together and raised them to her chin. “Educational.” She then rested back casually again. “Well you’ve done better than I ever could have hoped. Now unless there’s anything else you think you should tell me, let's round back to the beginning. Why you like your job, what you do for fun, your name if you’d like.” She sat as if beside a fireplace sharing conversation. “This is the easy part, try to relax a bit.”

The man found it very hard to relax. There was a certain thought rattling around in his head, even as he spoke, hanging there limply.

”It gives me purpose, I like to drink with the boys when we're chillin’, and my name is Francis Romano. Or Frank.”

He brought his hovering hands up to his face, stifling a moan. ”I'm such a dead man…”

The hands didn't part, as if he was hiding his sight from something he didn't want to see.

”If you're gonna kill me, just do it quick.”

Khor winced. “Well full disclosure we’re both figuring that out now.” She felt a shiver going up her spine. Was it too much? Was the rush she let take over too far? She finally nodded. “If it comes to it I’ll make it quick. No point carving you up now.” She looked at the chainsaw. Even as a dead hunk of metal it seemed to beg otherwise.

There was a slight shudder of a sigh from Frank. Relief, perhaps.

Khor got back on track. “So, your job. Purpose. Someone who was lost before and found a reason yeah? Want to continue that purpose on your own terms instead of for a psycho like Vinnie?”

Frank snapped, swaying a little as he hung. ”Boss is not a psycho. I'll be honest, you let me go and I'mma march my ass right back to him, tell him what happened and hope to God he's merciful.”

Khor’s eyebrows raised. “Shit you sound willing to die for him. Got some loyalty to you I’ll give you that. I've only heard colourful remarks about Vinnie, and that he might be merciful? Peaked my interest there bud, what have you got to say about him?”

Frank gave a pained smile, despite slowly swinging back on forth from his ankles. ”The Boss'll kill ya if you talk and take money, we all know that. It discourages people who would see the Boss as weak, ya know? But if I tell him I was facing down a chainsaw, he might reduce me to simply wiping my mind and dismissing me from the mafia…. That'd be okay, I'd deserve my punishment. At least they'd say Frankie came back to the Boss.

“He cares more about this city and the gyfts within it more than what people may think. If he was in charge, like the Mayor? He'd probably have gyft showcases instead of gyft wars…”


Khor shuddered. Gyft showcases? Something about that struck a primal fear within her. Shaking off the feeling she picked up the chainsaw. “That’s ominous…” Spotting Francis's sudden shock with the chainsaw in her hands again Khor raised an open palm. “No no! Not for you! The rope. You’re one loyal freaking operator, going back to face the music I mean, geez. That’s borderline masochistic, talking to a kindred spirit but still.” Khor readied her hand on the rip cord. “Now you’re gonna have two options.”

Khor pointed the chainsaw at an open manhole. “Door number one. You scuttle down there and meet up with some guys of an associate of mine. When they’ve used the info you’ve graciously provided you get a free lease on life, and can do whatever you want after having a couple days to sit on it.”

Khor reared the chainsaw. “Door number two! You get real brave and punch on with yours truly. You’ve earnt a fair fight but your chances of walking away are real slim if you take that roadway. Oh and if you pick door one, left, left, straight, right. Don’t try escape down there either, atmosphere will kill you quicksmart without help. Got that? Alright curl up, tuck your head!”

The chainsaw roared back to life followed by a thud, the man now freed. Khor killed the machine, threw it to the side and stood back, highlighting herself and the manhole. “Decision time! What does our contestant want to win today? A or B? Left or Right? The choice is yours, what will it be?”

Franked curled as he was instructed, groaning as he rose from the floor, pulling away any remaining rope. As he stood there, blood rushing back to where it was supposed to be, all he could think about was his boss. To live a life apart from the Thorned Roses was not to live at all, to live apart from the command of the Boss, well, it was a life sentence.

Frank knew he was choosing his own death. But, perhaps there was some redemption in it for him. He would die alone here, and his boss would never know of his sacrifice, but he'd also never know of his initial betrayal. All the better, he thought as he raised his fists and lowered his stance.

”If it's all the same to you, I'll take two.”

Khor smiled, somewhat sombre, somewhat excited. She was small but the little shit still had the audacity to bounce around on her toes pretending she was Muhammad Ali. Then came the blur. Fists flying faster than could be tracked, shadow boxing for a moment before punching her knuckles together. “Could’ve gone back to him, but if this is what you want.” She raised her arms, open hands held in stance. “Well, I’m right here.”

His face immediately scowled. ”Hold on. You mean-”

His jaw tightened. ”You wouldn't keep me indefinitely? I mean, I know you didn't say indefinitely, but I assumed you'd want me to, I dunno, join you, abandon this whole mess, live under a rock for the rest of my life-”

A big inhale. He was getting ahead of himself. ”Perhaps… I misunderstood you. If you really will let me go after, I have no issue with being your hostage longer.”

Khor bounced back. “Oh you didn’t- oh shit I was about to turn you into a smear. Wow I… I REALLY need to work on my communication.” She stood there shuffling a little, not sure how to hold herself. “Well, uh, yeah door one! Yeah no you’ll just sit down, share a drink, they’re good guys just trying to make a big score so they’ll look after you, then, yeah.” She stabbed her thumb upward. “Topside freedom. Can tell Vinnie all about this after they’re done I couldn’t care less, neither could they.”

Khor ran her hands through her hair. “God, you really didn’t see the light there. I just thought I’d play the theatrics, see what all the other king hitting bozo’s in this city get out of it, but honestly, that sucked!” She threw her hand out at Francis. “Almost killed a man because I was too busy playing game host. Fuck. I’m really not good at this am I?” She bounced her head talking to herself. “Honest, this is why you're honest.”

She waved her hand off. “Rambling, sorry. Door one. On your way, and if we meet again hopefully you’ll be the one tying me up waving a chainsaw around, make it even huh? See you round maybe!” She raised her hands quickly. “Oh and remember! Left, left, straight, right. Don’t die down there now.”

Frank gave a little ‘huh’, taking this woman all in. Maybe, maybe she wasn't so bad after all… Maybe.

Regardless, he did as he was told, dipping down into the manhole, taking the left tunnel, then the next left, straight, then the right tunnel. Off to meet his destiny.

With Francis now well on his way and the manhole cover placed back where it belonged, Khor scanned the rafters and walkways above looking for any indication the Canary was still there.

She found it in a small, soft orange glow. Adel had shimmied out of his hiding spot, brushing dust from his sweater but choosing to stay half hidden in shadow as he regarded Khor below him. He didn't think that she would turn on him now after inviting him here, but it was better safe than sorry.

"That ended better than I expected," he told Khor, his gaze drifting to the manhole for a moment. Of course he also could have told her a lot of what Vincent's goon had given up, but it was worth it for the scant few new pieces of information he'd learned. "So you're really planning to rob Vincent..."

Khor grinned, the visage of a hapless idiot smeared all over her face. “Yeeaah~.”

She moved back behind the screen to start getting dressed. “Sounds like the payout might be a nice secondary as well. Glad Franky got a happy ending too, just hope he doesn’t spend too much time down there or those tunnels will melt the meat off him.” She chuckled at her statement before taking a more serious tone. “Nah but seriously I hope he doesn’t spend too much time down there or those tunnels will melt the meat off him. Should’ve told him to take a deep breath…” She stroked her chin before letting her hand fall. “Nah he’ll be fine. Left left straight right. Franky’ll find Frosty just fine.”

That too was good to know, not that Adel planned to spend any time whatsoever in sewers. He stayed quiet for a few long moments, taking a deep pull as he sorted through his thoughts. Now that he'd seen The Eel's face, he would know her identity as soon as he got back to the office. She'd allowed him to come along to her little interrogation, insisted on it even, so she had been prepared to show her real self to him. With that in mind it stood to reason she either wasn't actually all that upset about the business with blizzard or she had forgotten about it entirely in her zeal. Adel was betting on the latter. Without her helmet on, Khor's thoughts showed clear on her face - and they were even more swift and chaotic than his own were. Hopefully whenever she remembered, he wasn't around... but his luck had been abysmal lately so he doubted it.

"I think it's a bad idea," he said. Some free advice from a pessimist. "Even if you pull it off, he'll find out. And he'll be pissed. He'll come after you."

What he didn't say was that somehow Khor had lucked into some decent timing though. With The Lion and the Lodestar pressing in on Vincent, and the man having to manage his other properties to possibly prepare for Clash or the Iron Rose to try something, The Boss had a lot on his plate. With luck, they could take something out from under his nose while his attention was focused outward. But it wouldn’t stop the man’s retaliation.

Khor nodded. “Oh it’s a terrible idea. A god awful one, so irresponsible he’ll have to deal with the fallout eventually. As for him finding out, shit, I’m counting on it.” Khor shimmied their pants back on, sitting to drag on and tie their boots. “Let’s just say that captain of mine I mentioned at dinner is the traditional type, the kind of guy who likes to set up the board so the game falls into his lap. Now I don’t know if you could tell but I loathe chess, so rather than sit down and play I thought it better to flip the whole damn table. Vinnie boy is a prominent figure, someone with a lot of ties, and my captain will have a far harder time drawing treaties in my own blood if I’ve pissed all over those relations beforehand. Makes the whole organised betrayal thing a little more tricky.”

Khor dragged their jacket over their shoulders with a shrug. “That or this is all just miscalculation and I’m so very, very dead.” She laughed, droning off at the end, smile tightening. The tension in her face fell as she closed her eyes. “Whatever, gotta roll the dice sometimes. Not your problem anyway, worst case you still stand to get rich without sticking your neck out much of any. If you still want in after how I was before, that is.” She picked up the helmet, turning to look up to the Canary. “Sorry for dragging you along, had to capitalise on the moment you know? That and I don’t care whatever the hell that drug is or where it came from. Really if anything, I’m just concerned why you thought it was a good idea to stick some random poor bastard with it. Doesn’t seem your style, careless and callous.”

The easy answer was that it hadn't been his idea in the first place. When he'd told his people to figure out what Sugarcrush did, he hadn't expected them to go shoot some guy on the street with it either. But that was the problem with the Canaries, a problem that thankfully no one outside of himself properly grasped. They were not a uniform unit. Some were spies, some were former killers and gangbangers, some were just pencil pushers... some were smart, and some were dumb as bricks. They were held together by the promise of money - Adel's money - and the relative safety they could enjoy. He didn't fault his boys for going for the fastest method of experimentation, or for wisely not doing it in Silverside, though he wished they had gone about it differently. But what's done was done.

"...it was an oversight on my part," he said, accepting the responsibility. "It won't happen again at any rate."

Adel wasn't sure if he wanted to be part of Khor's mad gambit, but if he was to think objectively about it she was probably right. The brunt of the retribution would fall upon her, and Brewery. It was in his own best interest to prevent anyone with ambitions above their station from making a move on Silverside, and though it would be counterintuitive to lend a hand against Vincent when he'd just struck a deal with him, technically he already was doing that on behalf of the Order. Plus he was one hundred percent sure that Vincent's men had seen Adel and Khor together outside of the barber shop. Feigning ignorance just wouldn't fly.

The man sighed.

He moved, dropping down from the catwalk and landing on the concrete floor. He took his cigarette in his mouth, stuck one hand into his pocket as he approached Khor, and held the other one out to her. The gesture was not expectant, just a simple offer. A handshake.

Khor blinked at the gesture, a weak smile tugging at her face. “You're serious?” She made a double take, looking at his hand, then his face again, before gently clasping his hand to offer a polite shake. “You’re full of surprises. I wouldn’t have blamed you for cutting and running. Hell wouldn’t have blamed you for throwing me under the bus and selling me out to Vinnie.” Khor’s hand squeezed a little more firmly, her eyes flooded with relief that maybe she’d have a wall to put her back to when Nocturnia decided to kick off into a full blown war or a knife in the dark decided to fall upon her.

Her eyes darted down. “And yeah, no stress. I know the feeling of some go-getter lad with stars in their eyes shitting the bed and leaving you to wipe, believe me. Just needed to be sure.”

Khor nodded, steely eyes back on the Canary. “You come good on this with me and I’ll see Silverside as sacred ground. The Akula’s won’t let a single wayward soul do as much as to even spit on it. Beyond that, with the fight in my sharks and the wisdom of your bird's eye view, we might just carve ourselves a little sanctuary in this city yet.” Khor’s eyes darted to the side with a nervous chuckle. “That’s if I don’t get myself turned inside out. Just in case, I’ll make sure the Akula’s will know who to follow next.” She gave the Canary a light slap on the shoulder.

He leaned away slightly at the slap, but otherwise let her do as she pleased. He couldn't say that he felt good about the decision to throw his lot in with Khor, but having her on his side was miles better than the reverse.

"That's what I want," Adel said. A safe place, just one safe place in the city while he fought to make it out into the real world. "...not the you turning inside out part."

Khor’s head fell back slightly before a sudden laugh escaped her. “You and me both Birdy. Shit, you and me both.” She reached for her helmet and rolled it in her hands before sliding it back over her black bob of hair. Even though she was concealed once more her persona still beamed the cheeky bastard it contained. “We should probably scarper. You good to get back to Silverside?”

She's like a psycho aunt, Adel thought to himself. Or at least how he imagined an aunt to be, since he'd never had one. The mental picture he was building of Khor was shaping up to be an interesting one indeed.

"I'll be fine," he told her, and after a beat added, "and the next time you want to reach me, just call."
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