AlteredTundra

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Smells like UDF propaganda to me

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Okay, reality check. I realize it's the middle of summer, but I gotta beat this horse so it doesn't completely die. I'll move us forward to some action in my next post. Transitions aren't super fun to write, really, so I don't want that to keep anyone back.

@FollowthePath@nodogs@RezonanceV
We alright over here? Throwing you a friendly nudge.

@metanoia
Let's continue the comments here. I still have your old name printed in my mind, for some reason. Anyway, you know you're good, I know you're good, everybody knows it. But, there is just something about your posts that is high tier engaging. This flow you have between dialog, description, and narrative is uncanny—especially when you use NPC interaction. You also seem to balance yourself out very well in regards to the type of character you write for. The collection of tropes in your character could easily get out of hand in the wrong hands, but it really shines in yours. Your writing is also on point. I mean, it checks all the marks, all the tricks, all the flavor.

@Prisk

Some days I think about my old username too . Even to the point where I think about going back to good ole, reliable Altered Tundra (without the space because the Guild's coding around usernames is weird). But at the same time, I feel like I've become fully comfortable in my new identity.

But thank you for all the kind things you said! I go through my own days where I doubt that I hold a candle to some of the writers I write with. Or maybe my language isn't as good as some others, but it's nice to hear it every once in a while. :)

Edenridge

^{Timestamp: After Shields & Chains
FT: Mordechai Boaz, Penelope James, Jade Taylor
Allegra Cardenas, Viva Cardenas, and Chai Boaz-Cardenas}

^{@metanoia @Aces Away @LovelyComplex}
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As soon as Jade hung up with Poppy, she felt like she was left with more questions than she had before she called her soul sister. Before it was just about reaching out. About no longer being in the isolation Jade put on herself by pushing those closest to her away. But as it would happen, things just got a lot more complicated. Yeah, as if her life wasn’t already confusing and tangled enough.

But she couldn’t think about it. Jade knew it and she couldn’t waste time -- not when someone whose connection to everything happening in Edenridge was even crazier. The newest batch of letters came and that psycho was going after some of those Northies. She didn’t know who exactly was going to be affected. It was about that David O’Hara. Jade didn’t know him ona personal level, but if they were about to go through what everyone went through last month, Jade felt bad for them, but she had more important things to focus on.

So she took a shower. Admittedly, as she stood in her shower, as crappy as it was, the water pressure was pretty good, she thought about what Poppy told her about Charlie’s sister. Mitena was her name, right? Jade couldn’t help but think about how cute that name was. Fitting that Charlie would have a sister with a cool name. She smiled, finding comfort at that. She didn’t smile at a lot of things lately, but that made her crack one.

But that wasn’t the only thing she lamented on. Scott Street. She seldom ventured there. Only a few times when there were parties or, ya know, when she had a group project with some of those privileged northies. Their houses, especially the Belmontes, were almost as big as the entire Lost Souls apartment buildings combined. Not height-wise, but the space surely. Or maybe she was overestimating the land their house sat on. Jade almost failed math, so that could be why.

Point being, she was perplexed about that. Why on earth did they need to go there?

With a sigh, Jade finished up. She dried her body off and wrapped it in a long body towel. She only had one but it did its job. She touched up her hair for a few minutes, blowdrying it then giving it a decent brush. Then she went over to her closet, trying to figure out what would be an appropriate outfit. The past few days have been hotter than a damn sauna, so probably no jeans. Even though she would prefer to, it was summer and she didn’t feel like sweating to death from her back to her ass crack.

In the end, Jade went with an outfit that consisted of an Iron Maiden shirt, some short jean shorts, a blue plaid shirt, and even though she just knew it was a bad idea, she grabbed the jacket her Uncle Charlie went. Sure wearing black on black on black might’ve been a bad idea, but lately Jade felt exposed. Except for her Sunday breakfast…dates with Anya she hasn’t felt protected despite the Devil of Eden stating that’s exactly what he was doing. Just thinking about his cold eyes gave her the chills, so she needed to wear it, her long term comfort be damned.

Tying the plaid shirt around her waist and slipping the Jacket up, Jade just applied a little makeup, donning her trademark raccoon eyes style and grabbed everything she needed for the trip: her phone, purse, and what the hell, a pocket knife that she’s been carrying around her since Saturday. It was a simple knife and one that Glass got for her. She didn’t tell him why she needed one and, thankfully, he wasn't the type to pry too much. All she knew was she could go to him for that sort of thing. Ever since her encounter with The Devil, Jade felt she needed it.

Poppy’s place wasn’t that far from the Lost Soul’s apartment complex. When she left, it only took her about fifteen minutes max to get from point A to point B. The James’ house was every bit a house that brought her comfort as it always was. She may have been a stranger lately, but she always could feel her spirits being lifted whenever she was near it.

She gave a quick knock. A few of them, in fact. Maybe she didn’t need to since she was practically family but that was fucking rude to just waltz into someone’s home, regardless if they saw you as a daughter or not. After about ten seconds, the door opened as Jade saw the familiar face of Poppy’s mom, Victoria. “Long time no see, Mama Victoria.” Jade flashed her a small smile and an equally small wave. “Is my long lost soul sister around?” She asked the matriarch of the James family.

“Kitchen,” Victoria instructed before apologizing, “Sorry I can’t stay and chat.” Victoria adjusted her purse hanging from her shoulder, and slipped past the tragic blond girl. In her hand was the new letter. The one about David.

Giving her daughter’s friend a half smile, Poppy’s mom dismissed herself, not one to waste time, “It’s good to see you, Jade. Help yourself with whatever and if you can, try not to be out all night. Who knows what these letters will do to this town. I’d rather not find out you three are in the hospital.”

As the older woman walked out and made her way to her car, Penelope called out from the kitchen, “Did you eat anything?” Inside the kitchen, she sat at the table, tearing a biscuit to shreds and not eating it. Across from her was Mordechai, who held Chai, and the person looking inside the fridge, Allegra, had Viva closely in tow. Penelope didn’t look up from the bread. It was clear as a cloudless sky she had lingering feelings toward her friend holding his baby boy. Feelings of uncertainty and hurt.

Regardless of how she felt, Poppy would bury it like she did everything else. No matter how hurt she was, she wouldn’t let the constant secrets hold her back from seeking Tena out. She needed this more now than ever. Penelope wanted to feel good for more than just a moment and not feel like she was useless, replaceable, and not worth anyone’s time. Too sad to cry, too tired to get up, too angry to fight, so many emotions she constantly battled that she thought she had left behind. Nibbling a crumb, Penelope blankly stared at the rustic wood design of the table. She was Penelope James, goddammit, and she was a badass with a fire impossible to put out. She had to remember that.

Jade honed in on Poppy’s voice, smiling at her, and absentmindedly said, “Didn’t get the chance before I left my place--” It was then she noticed a few additions. A girl, who was pretty hot mind you, looked to be around the soul sisters' age and she had a little girl close by. “I don’t think we’ve met,” she said to the cute brunette with the little girl. “The name’s Jade.” For a brief minute, Jade met eyes with the little girl. Now, she didn’t have the most experience with little kids other than the kid that She-Wolf and Cueball had together. That little boy was a few years older, Manuel was his name, but this little girl seemed a lot more well-behaved. She leaned down, putting on her most family-friendly smile she could. “And who might you be?”

Viva laughed but stayed wrapped around her mother’s leg like a koala, releasing one arm of its grip so she could wave at the newcomer. Allegra finally popped her head out of the freezer, sucking salaciously on a grape popsicle and holding another one in her hand. As Viva shoved her face into her mother’s leg, the woman looked down to her daughter and let the popsicle leave her lips with a lewd pop!. She shook her head and crouched down, holding both popsicles in one hand and grabbing her daughter around the waist with her other. Once the girl had settled on her mother’s hip, Allegra stood back up to height and shifted her right side forward a bit to present the two year old to the blonde so that the other woman didn’t need to continue bending down.

“No baby, ya don’t just wave. You gotta reach your hand out and shake hers, tell her your name back and say ‘nice ta meet’cha’,” the brunette directed, bouncing her daughter a few times when the girl just continued to hide her face. In a sing song voice, she added, “If ya don’t introduce yourself ya don’t get a popsicle.”

Immediately, the girl’s hand shot out and almost caught Jade on the nose, saved only by her mother casually leaning back a few inches. “Hi Jade! You’re weally pwetty! I’m Viva! Viva Gavwiel Cawdenas Boaz! Nice ta meet’cha!”

“Sorry what?” That caught her off guard as she blankly stared at Viva with a dumbfounded expression on her face.

Mordechai, who had been drinking coffee and reading a book over his son’s head while the infant rested in his lap, promptly started choking on his drinks, spraying the warm liquid everywhere. Including, to his dismay, the top of his baby boy’s head.

“Ah shit!” He cursed, holding his son to his soaked chest and kicking his seat back to get away from the mess at the table. With his son now crying and both of them covered in caffeine instead of ingesting it, Mordechai let out a longer string of curses and headed towards the bathroom, still coughing a bit to clear his throat of the shock. “Hey J, I’ll be back, sorry,” he rushed out as he passed the blonde, slamming the door behind him. Faintly, the sound of running water began to filter out of the closed door.

“Ha!” Allegra laughed once he’d disappeared, popping the popsicle into her daughter’s mouth before setting her own down to hold her hand out to Jade. “That’s the first time she’s used his last name,” She explained to the other two women in the room. “That boy can’t handle anything new happenin’, I swear. Anyway, I’m Allegra, it’s nice ta meet’cha finally. You can call me Legs or Bambi if ya want.”

She was still trying to process the fact that Key might’ve had a daughter, she shook her head as it was mentally blown. “Had no idea he was a papa now.” Shaking her head again and laughing, knowing first hand that what she said about Key was the absolute truth. She met Allegra in the eyes. “Cool name, Bambi. You can just call me Jade or J or whatever tickles you the right way.” She had to admit this was a lot to take in. Two kids and then Bambi, she didn’t know what to make of it. “I honestly didn’t know Key had a daughter. And a boy too? I am so out of the loop.”

“This one is just by action,” Allegra answered, nuzzling her daughter’s cheek before jerking her head towards the bathroom door. “That one was all him and me, though. His name’s Chai.” Looking Jade up and down, Allegra picked her own popsicle back up with a wink, tossing out a, ”And I bet we could find out what tickles me the right way very easily-”

“Legs,” Mordechai cut off as he opened the bathroom door again, shirt missing and his son cleaned off. The other occupants of the room would be able to see that he had filled out and already developed more muscle since the last time they were all together. They could also see all his torso scars in stark contrast to his light olive skin. Almost all of them. Because Chai had calmed down considerably and was laid gently across his father’s chest and shoulder, eyes closed and thumb in his mouth. The way he was rested, no one could see the large brand that spanned his left breast and collarbone, despite all of them knowing it was there. Only Mordechai would ever really know if that was intentional or not. “Please stop tryin’ ta fuck all my friends, seriously.”

“Seriously?” Allegra scoffed back, purposefully swirling her tongue around her treat to further aggravate the man. “You’ve fucked most’a your friends, why can’t I?”

“We’re not havin’ this conversation again,” He grouched tiredly, sending a weak smile to Jade and moving closer so she could meet his son. “Hey Harley Head, this is Chai Boaz.”

Rolling up her bread in a paper towel, barely with an appetite, Poppy got up from her seat and tossed her food in the trash. Letting her friends play catch up, Poppy exited the kitchen and made her way outside to her family’s porch and took a seat on the stoop, placing her backpack beside her. Pulling up her phone, she took to her instagram account which she rarely used and tried searching Natalia’s name, only to discover that the account had been deactivated. Huffing to herself and her bad luck, Poppy pocketed her phone and fetched On the Road. She needed something to do to keep her mind off of things. Might as well read one of Charlie’s books that she’s read countless times. It was one of his favorites. Something that resonated with him at a young age.

The only people that interest me are the mad ones, the ones who are mad to live, mad to talk, mad to be saved, desirous of everything at the same time, the ones that never yawn or say a commonplace thing but burn, burn, burn like fabulous yellow roman candles exploding like spiders across the stars and in the middle you see the blue centerlight pop and everybody goes ‘Awww!’

On the Road, by Jack Kerouac

Mordechai stared after their Street Angel as she silently made her exit, distress and exhaustion warring on his features. Turning back to the women still in the room, he flinched a bit under Allegra's glare before explaining to Jade, "I've…made a few mistakes already this mornin'."

As Jade watched Poppy leave the kitchen, she didn’t even have to know that Key may have done something to know that something happened. It caused her to frown as her gaze lingered to the front door. She wondered what happened? If it was just about what Key did. Sure, there was a lot to take in: he had a live-in, two kids where one was biologically his and one wasn’t. Jade thought maybe it could’ve been about Charlie’s long lost sister, but she didn’t have enough information about that to say for certain. All she knew was she left one hell to the start of a different layer of it.

“We all make mistakes, Key. Don’t let them bring you down. Hell, I pretty much isolated myself away from everyone for a whole month and I called Poppy this morning and now I’m here. So let me be the cautionary tale: you might’ve fucked up, but that just means you have all day to make it up to her.” Jade leaned close and reached for Mordechai’s hand, squeezing it assuringly. “Ya hear me, Key?”

“I hear ya, Harley, thanks,” The man replied, squeezing her hand back. His son cooed against his shoulder as the tired man held him, opening his eyes again to land on the unfamiliar figure in the room. “Oh, I think he noticed ya.”

“Then let her meet him, Ken,” Allegra spoke up softly, having stayed silent between the friends’ exchange. She put a hand on Mordechai’s shoulder and nodded towards Jade encouragingly.

“Oh- uh, right,” He looked down to his son and the area that he covered on his father’s chest, reluctant. Allegra’s hand grew a little heavier and he cleared his throat before taking his hand back from Jade in order to gently lift his son and lead him towards the blonde’s arms. When Jade received his son, the man quickly threw his right arm across his chest and gripped his left shoulder, covering up as much of his scarring as possible. “He looks like…he looks like Danny, fair warnin'.”

“I noticed that..” The blonde said in a low tone, seeing the similarities between Danny and baby Chai. She supported with one arm under him and another at the base of his neck and head. She smiled sweetly at the boy, those eyes undeniably a Boaz trait. “You’re just the cutest, aren’t you?” Jade said in a very uncharacteristic tone for her. Her usually dulled, mild-toned voice was high and very playful. “Of course you are. Just look at who your papa is! He’s quite the charmer.” She grinned at Key. “I’ll be your Auntie Jade. When you’re old enough, I’ll teach ya how to get all the girls in the world. Or boys. Or anyone your little heart desires.” She grinned wider and took to a slow rocking motion with Baby Chai in her arms.

Mordechai’s tired eyes warmed at the sight of his baby in his friend’s arms and Allegra disappeared from the room to go grab Mordechai a new shirt, Viva looking between her mother and father dividedly until she eventually closed her eyes and ran headfirst into his legs. The sober serpent bent down easily to bring his daughter back up with him, settling her on his hip so she could be a part of the conversation.

“Aside from isolatin’…how’ve ya been, Jade?” Mordechai asked sincerely, absentmindedly swaying side to side as Viva laid against him.

The Angel Princess hesitated from answering Key’s question. A lot had happened. A lot nobody knew about. A lot that Jade wasn’t ready to talk about, or maybe it was more about feeling uncertain that she can talk about it. “I’ve just been trying to keep my head above sea level. Even that I’m not sure I’m succeeding at,” she chuckled, looking down at baby Chai in her arms, smiling at him. “It hasn’t been easy, Key. I’ve been staggering back and forth between holding it together and falling apart. Today’s the first day I’ve actually felt the closest to myself than I have the past month.” And even now, Jade wasn’t sure just what that really meant - to be herself. She didn’t know when the last time she felt like ‘herself’.

“I can understand that,” the dark haired man empathized, going over to the counter to grab some paper towels with his free hand and start the struggle of single-handedly cleaning up the mess he made in his shock earlier. Jade understood harder drugs a little more, or at least she saw them in a similar manner to Mordechai moreso than Poppy and Charlie had. The two of them had done coke together more times than he could count back in school, and she usually needed a blunt to wake up and pass out just as much as he did. As far as he was aware, she’d never touched smack like he and Sonny had, and he once again found himself proud of his friends’ strengths as much as he was sick of his own weaknesses. “I dunno if Pops told ya, but I’ve been clean for like three weeks now. Been in a sorta isolation myself while it was happenin’ but Legs, Pops, and Badger all kept me in check until the worst of it was over. Doesn’t mean I’m not still cravin’ everythin’, but it means I can actually be here in the moment for my kids, and that actually makes me feel somethin’, y’know?”

It was said with his head down, staring at the counter he was cleaning so they didn’t have to meet each other’s eyes and see all their ugly truths just yet. The two deeper into the criminal element of the town from the start have too many things to say to each other for the time they have left alone. It was always their way; awkward empathizing and bland admittances that could have others balking. The Grease Monkey and Harley Head, always shoulder to shoulder in the dirt, looking forward or down instead of at each other.

“Wait what!?” Jade’ sudden shift in mood, as well as where she was looking, came like a speeding train through a building as she had her blue were solely focused on Key. “That’s fucking amazing! Seriously, I’m so happy for you!” If she weren’t holding a literal infant right now, Jade would’ve hugged him. There was a part of her that wished she could’ve been there for him, but she was glad that, at the least, good ole Mika who proclaims he doesn’t give a fuck does, in fact, give many fucks was. “Having something -- or rather someone -- to exist for is what we all hope to get someday. And I bet with how much energy I’m sure these two are having, they’re keeping you pretty fucking busy--sorry, didn’t mean to curse in front of the little ones.”

“Don’t worry about it,” He laughed fondly. “We don’t censor around them. That raisin’ was already in process with Viva before I met Legs…Chai’s been wakin’ me up most nights, Viva used ta when we were in the apartments together but she grew out of it. Keeps me from the nightmares but has my mind wanderin’ all the time,” He dropped the dirited paper towels in the trash and grabbed the lysol wipes from under the sink, unable to meet Jade's eyes both from her praise and his own admissions. Viva clung tight to him through all the movement, arm flung around his neck and popsicle in her mouth as she listened to things she didn’t understand. “It’s hard not ta disappear at four in the mornin' just ta get a fix and stop my head from spinnin’. Until two weeks ago Legs locked the doors every night so she’d wake if she heard me tryin’ ta unlock ‘em and leave. Woke everyone up by raisin’ hell the first time it happened.”

Jade laughed at that last part and she could feel it - she put her whole chest into it, which shocked her not only because she laughed that hard but that Chai wasn’t bothered in the least. Jade even heard some approving sounds coming from the little Boaz in her arms. When she settled down, Jade just looked at Key. “Sorry, I didn’t mean to laugh but that’s what I call extreme tough love right there. Cares so much that you are under the supervision of Warden Bambi.” She cackled some more.

“Yeah yeah, laugh it up,” Mordechai grumbled, no real heat behind his words. He’d glanced up to check on his son at the boy’s noises and he could swear he felt his heart melt on the spot. The infant, while he was cooing happily, was actually almost asleep with his face turned into Jade’s chest, fist raised to his mouth as he suckled happily on it. His son didn’t just fall asleep in anyone’s arms, and it’s been an amazingly reassuring experience to him for the boy to do so with Mika, then Poppy and Sly, and now Jade. It made him feel like he’d somehow made a right choice every now and then, with his son already being such a good judge of character, so comfortable in the arms of the people Mordechai meshes with the best. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw Allegra return and toss her now finished popsicle stick in the trash. He calmly set Viva down and watched as the girl ran to her mother before catching the tshirt he’d been tossed and throwing it on in one quick movement, once more hiding his designation in life from his loved ones who thought more of him. “Thanks Legs.”

“No problem,” the seductress offered, smiling at Jade with Chai in her arms. “As cute as this is, I think your little gang had a goal today, right?” She reached for her son gently, waiting for Jade to deposit him in her arms. “I’ve actually got an appointment of my own.”

“What,” Mordechai glanced at her strangely. “Where?”

“An old friend’s in town and I’m gonna take the kids to early lunch. You guys always missed each other in New York, don’t worry about it,” Allegra dismissed his worry easily. “Now, your plans?” She asked the both of them, arms still out to receive Chai.

Handing over the nearly-sleeping little Boaz, Jade’s arms returned to her side when Bambi had him safely and securely in her arms. “Not sure about the specifics but Pops said something about Scott Street.” The blonde didn’t understand what was so important, but certainly there had to be some reason for them going there and not straight to Blue Hill. Suppose they’d find out when they get there.

"Yeah, apparently we're pickin' up Pu- Natalia Belmonte," Mordechai clarified for the blonde. "Apparently she and Hard Times knew each other better than any of us thought. I uh, didn't realize Pops didn't know she hung around the Serpents. Legs is right, too, we should head out to her. I have a feelin' there's a long day ahead'a us."

“I’m sorry -- but what did you say?!” Suddenly Jade’s understanding of everything she thought she knew about this situation had been swept right under her. Natalia fucking Belmonte and…Charlie!? And he had a sister that he never told any of them about? Internally she felt like someone just punched her in the gut the more she was finding out about this situation, but she just had a bewildered expression on her face. “Yeah…let me just get some food. Last thing I want is for her to yell at me because I got too distracted falling in love with my new favorite nephew.”

Truth be told, Jade needed to do a bit of binge eating to make up for all of the simultaneous surprises she seems to be finding out in such a short amount of time. She needed carbs. And lots of them. “You know where they keep the donuts? Oh and chocolate milk? In the mood for sugar and more sugar.”

"Uh, yeah of course," Mordechai responded with a furrowed brow while Allegra smacked her own forehead in the background while mouthing, "Twice in one day?" to the ceiling. Realizing he'd dropped the ball on telling more than Poppy about Natalia all those years ago, the sober fool just closed his eyes in resignation before moving to the cabinet Jade requested and throwing open the doors. "Sorry, I did it again. I can't really remember who all knew what back then. I uh…I can't really remember a lot of it actually." A constant mix of drugs, blood loss, and concussions will do that to a mind, especially one that was young, traumatized, and still developing. It was hard for him to admit it, that he was more checked out for most of their lives than anyone realized; that the bad memories always spring so vividly to the forefront of his mind but the mundane, the everyday routine, had been blitzed out by herb, H, and liquor. He had almost no memory at all of his first time getting clean for Lanie and the Emancipation, but he does remember she looked like she'd seen hell for the first time once he'd come out the other end and his memory improved. Barely.

He was sober again though, he was working on it.

Jade reached for what she needed: powder donuts. There was a whole box of the mini ones and in a matter of thirty seconds, she poured herself a big ass glass of chocolate milk. Whether or not it was healthy for her wasn’t the top of her priority list. She needed something to combat that sinking feeling she was getting in her gut and pointless calories always did the trick. Plus, who didn’t like donuts and milk? There’s no more iconic duo in the breakfast world.

She turned around, looking at Key, shaking her head. “No, don’t apologize. You didn’t do anything wrong but tell me the truth. It’s just hard to fathom right now. Maybe it’ll all make more sense when we hear it from the Belmonte’s mouth.” She flashed him a smile and took the damn box with her, which is to say it wasn’t a large one but big enough to know just how many donuts were in it. She also had the glass of milk in her hand. “Let's go, okay? Find out together.” In truth, she was hurt but only because this was one of many things she felt she wasn’t entitled to know because of the distance put between her and Charlie.

"Yeah," grabbing his bag off the floor and closing the distance between him and his friend, Mordechai put his hand on her shoulder. "Together."

Going Viral: A Digimon RP

Three days remain until all character applications are due (if any remain unsubmitted)!

The Spirits Within/Aeon

@Archangel89
Wow! Look at that. That's amazing. Great initiative! I'll certainly make room for this kind of stuff after we survive the customary brick wall we ran into called 'summer'.

@metanoia
Not at all bad. Finally some action! I'm glad we're getting some posts, at least. I'm updating the character banners with names, so I'll start adding new ones to character as people post. Here's yours:

Hider

@Prisk

Oooh! Love that! When I saw yours, I considered making my own but now I don't have to!

The Spirits Within/Aeon

Finally got my post up! Might be a few mistakes cause it is 4:11am (the more you know right? I know I'm funny ), but hopefully not too bad.

The Spirits Within/Aeon

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TITUS “BLITZ” PHOENIX — Embergate - Some Pub — Late Night (1-2AM) — FLASHBACK —@metanoia ”And then I said: listen here, you fucking twit, next time you talk shit about my crew, prepare to back it up.” Titus, as loud, not to mention hammered, as ever, he was past the point of losing count of the amount of shots of Sourberry Spirit he had downed since being at whatever shitty pub or bar or whatever-the-fuck-it-was he was at. It was one of those run-down, barely-kept-up-with-the-maintenance establishments. It was shitty and on the side of Embergate that not many without a real set of stones on them vnetured to. The side that someone who was part of the UDF probably shouldn’t go to. Organized crime, murderers, people who would stab you with a good ole taste of home if you look at htem funny -- a good ole Lincentia Ore Shiv. Maybe that’s why he liked it here. It was grimier than he remembered, but the criminal underbelly of Embergate had that flavor of demolished civility that Lincentia had. Laughing it up with a few guys at the bar, he downed another shot. “So that’s the story about how some fuckwad almost twice my size got his ass handed to him by The Blitz!” He cackled himself not only into a cough from the sourness of the shot, but he bumped into someone. Now, on any given day, this wouldn’t be so bad, but this particular someone, a local legend among those in this particular neighborhood, didn’t take too kindly to being disrespected. But of course, as it always was with Titus, he shrugged it off, not bothering to apologize to Marcus Hellhound (his real name) -- or so Titus remembering hearing a few times over the years. He was a tall and muscular man. Titus was tall and had a solid mass of muscle, but he was a beast of a man. A real behemoth of a man with a nasty temper but a unique honor code. Two times of disrespecting him were the limit. And as he went to stand up, stumbling once again into Marcus, that’s what set him off. It wasn’t an assault, but the man stood up and the height difference -- at least six inches in favor of the Hellhound -- made it more than an easy feat for him to stop a walking, stumbling Titus. Reaching for his shoulder, Blitz didn’t have time to properly react and now he was face to chin with the behemoth. “And where are you going, little man?” Hellhound’s voice was distorted just like the scars on his face. It held tones of what felt like nobility or some fancy-ass aristocrat, now it was husky and a tone that Titus, even in a sober state, couldn’t understand. “Huh? The fuck you say?” Titus raised a disinterested brow at the man that towered over him by nearly a whole head. “Do I even know you, friend?” The giant shook his head. “You disrespected me. Twice.” “Did I now?” He still looked at him. Unphased. “I think I’d remmeber that, bucko. See, a face like yours is way too easy to make fun of. I bet we could have a lot of fun.” Hellhound’s eye twitched. And not the eye unscarred but the one with the fucked up appearance. Had he been sober, maybe what happened next could have been avoided, but Titus started to bust out laughing. “Oh man, that’s gotta be tough. You trying to be all serious. Mr. Hellhound of Embergate, right? But then you’re over here tweaking out like you need a fix or something. Seriously, how can I disrespect you when your own face does that for ya--” Before he could finish that thought, Hellhound pounced, throwing a straight right hook from the depths he was named for. Titus didn’t bother dodging and took the hit right in the jaw. Of course, he was sent staggering against the wall and Hellhound lept forward, grabbing Titus by the shirt with one hand and repeatedly wailing away on his face. One punch, two punch, four punch, six punch, ten… And yet, Titus remained unphased. Unaffected. Unbothered. Scars and scrapes were all over his handsome mug, but in his eyes, there was something almost sinister in them. A will that was unbroken to the point that he started to spook the Hellhound. The man backed away, letting him go. In response, Titus spat out the blood in his mouth, wiping it with his hand. Smirking, he merely said. “Not bad, Scarface. Really, you almost punch harder than my instructor. Gotta hand it to ya. I thought you weren’t gonna go for it, but you did. And I’m proud of you.” Hellhound stared at Titus, stepping back slowly. “But now it’s my turn.” There was a glow at his feet and the man flew from the wall and gave Hellhound all but one knee to the face that sent him flying to the other side of the room, cracking through the wall as half of his body was hanging out of the pub while the other half (in this case the bottom half) was still inside. Grimacing at the sight of the state of Hellhound, he partially frowned, looking at the bartender who had been forced to witness everything unfold in silence. The locals were afraid of Hellhound but now they would be afraid of Titus. “Sorry bout that bud!” Titus called out to Hellhound, who only groaned in response. “Didn’t mean to knock you out that fast. Was really hoping to get some energy out before tomorrow.” He whined as he paid for the damages and left the pub. Yeah, tomorrow. Tomorrow he no longer was part of the WarDiv. As much as he loved and cherished his time spent there, tomorrow he would officially be part of a special task force. On one hand, he was excited but he was going to miss the simple directives typically given in the Warfare Division. Oh well, a matter to think about when it actually arrived. For now, Titus had to remember just where the fuck his motel was! TITUS "BLITZ" PHOENIX — UDF: Cetra East Command (Briefing Room) → Armory → Surface — 8:00AM — @metanoia As soon as he woke up, Titus knew drinking last night may have been a mistake. And maybe picking a fight with Hellhound wasn’t the best idea he had in recent memory, but thinking back on it, he had no regrets. First off, that pub -- whatever its name was -- had the best Sourberry Spirit he’s tried in a long ass time. It may have even been better than the crap he had in Bend a few months back. God that shit was more than sour - it was nearly spoiled (keyword nearly because Titus still got hammered off of it). He spent most of the train ride catching up on sleep. Since he didn’t get back to his motel until a little after 2 and wasn’t unconscious until thirty minutes after the fact, he was exhausted. Plus the hangover sourberry spirit always gave someone who drank a little too much was the worst feeling to experience. But he endured. And got some breakfast before the train arrived at East Command. It wasn’t anything fancy. He didn’t have many credits to his name after spending most of it in Embergate, but he had enough for a simple spread of eggs, toast, and a couple of pork sausage links. Then came the mission briefing and what a shit show that was. It began with the genuine heartbreak that Titus felt when General McMahan explained that the one and only Bahamut was MIA. “Say it isn’t so…” He muttered lowly. Titus didn’t have what you might call a personal relationship with the great Bahamut -- or at least not as well-known one that he had with a certain Garuda among the group, but he had his own attachment to him. Or maybe the accurate way to describe their relationship was a warrior respecting a fellow warrior’s strength. It’s true that Titus never had any direct missions with Bahamut personally or with him leading the charge. There have been cases where they’ve crossed paths in the general sense, but what they did have was off-the-clock sparring sessions. Their sparring matches were pretty much full-on fights with no added powers but their ability to physically kick ass. Titus took a lot of pride in his ability to fight, but Bahamut was on a different level. Compared to him, Blitz was a novice. That’s right. Despite all of his loud and proud proclamations of how much ass he has kicked, in every battle of Blitz vs Bahamut, Titus has never won a single fight. Usually that would send him into a red state of mind, but with Benjamin, it was never the case. Titus respected the hell out of him, so when General McMahan said was MIA or rather they lost communication with him, Titus took it personally. “We’ll find him. Bastard owes me our weekly sparring match.” After the briefing and a little entertainment show was done (at the expense of known history between Emalia and Benjamin), Titus did something that many who knew the name of Titus Phoenix (AKA Blitz) seldom did: he went about his business quietly. In normal cases, he would say something about poor Garuda, but he wasn't in that kind of mood. He was solely fixated on the mission at hand. He made his way to the armory, put on his S.W.A.R.G-issued gear with the addition of his greaves and gauntlets that were tailor-made for his fighting style specifically, got his bag, and made his way topside, hitching a ride on one of the personnel gunships. Titus remained focused. Any and all thoughts he had right now, if nothing else, were solely focused on the mission. When they got the great Bahamut back, then he would relax. Until then, he was all business. Plot Summary After getting hammered in Embergate, which included getting into a fight with a local thug, Titus woke up with a hangover and a killer headache. He caught the train that departed from Embergate to East Command and kept mostly to himself, catching up on whatever sleep he could. When the train arrived and the mission briefing started, he remained uncharacteristically quiet due to Benjamin Regardie, someone he has immense respect for as a fellow warrior and someone he regularly spars with, going missing/lost communication with TPTB 72 hours ago. Titus became a man of pure focus from then on, no wanting to dick around and give his entire being and any and all energy he could spare to the mission. L O R E Sourberry Spirit - An aged mead native to Lincentia and is considered to be the national alcoholic beverage of the nation. Known for its sour, tart, and sweet notes, it is often preferred to be consumed either as a shot or combined with a sweet pop. It is made from sourberries, a round berry gold in color that grows only in Lincentia but has since been mass-produced. It has an irl comparison (taste wise) to raspberries and strawberries with the acidic punch of lemon. The alcohol potency is high and can get a person quite wasted if they're not careful.

Going Viral: A Digimon RP

Just a reminder to anyone interested in joining: only 9 days remain!

Edenridge

_{A @metanoia & @LovelyComplex collaboration
TIMESTAMP || After “Because of You}
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The sight of his mother isn’t what Danny feared. It was watching her hide all her pain behind her beautiful smile. Unbeknownst to Danilo, in the past week, his mother’s health took a dramatic turn for the worse and she was now in hospice. No one told him, not his dad and not Cat — he had no idea that she was only given two weeks to live. If only his family were better at handling fragile things like this. If only he knew.

There was a feeling deep inside him, in his gut, that told him to keep visiting her. Everyday. No matter how much it hurts to at least give her a kiss on the forehead. Today he decided it was the day he would show his boyfriend off to the best person in his life. The person who gave him a strong foundation to move forward without fear. The person who taught him how to live and be happy. The person who loved him more than anyone else in this world would. He knew, he just knew no one could replace the love she has for him and his sisters.

This was his chance to show her all the empathy she’s given him, to show her how much he’s grown, both body and soul, and to show her that he found his person. As he deeply stared at the door, beside his boyfriend, showered and dressed for his day, he thought to himself about her destination after this.

What was heaven?

To have faith means when you’re in complete darkness, the worst you’ve ever experienced, with no light in sight, you see hope within yourself. You sing. But what was heaven to him? Heaven could mean so many things to different people. Heaven could mean nothing. He could believe that at the end of the day, once you're dead, you’re dead and your body returns to the soil. He could believe there was nothing more to that. He could believe in many things. Yet his belief in what happens after was simple.

Danny wasn’t one for complexities. In his honest opinion, to him, if you were loved and you weren’t alone, that was heaven. So many people say there’s a heaven after we die, waiting for us. How could God allow such a faithful woman to become this sick? To put her in so much pain? Why did good people have to die? Danny wasn’t one for complexities but if he could come to terms with his own crisis of faith, he’d reckon that the afterlife had nothing glorious beyond the gates.

No party. No fluffy clouds. No angel wings.

Life was a wish and he wished that heaven was simple. Heaven was painless. Heaven was like an endless happy dream. Heaven was love. God was love. Heaven was the place that cured people from a worse illness than cancer. Heaven was a place where you never felt lonely. Heaven was home.

He just wanted to know that everything was going to be okay. That he loved her, he would always love her, and that he was so grateful that she loved her with every fiber of her being. That she saw the universe in him and gave him such a positive outlook in life. She taught him love. She taught him how to live. She taught him faith.

His chest clenched and Danny heavily heaved in and out. This part was always the worst. Knocking and entering to see if she was still there. To see if she was still fighting, too afraid to leave them behind. Was he being selfish for bringing Marco with him? What if his boyfriend couldn’t handle it?

His mother had stage 4 lung cancer. She coughed a lot, with blood nowadays, her chest hurt, shortening her breaths, she barely ate, she lost so much weight, she was always tired, she grew dizzy and numb, and there were a couple times Cat had to rush her to the hospital after she had a seizure.

His mom was beautiful in his eyes. She always would be. That doesn’t change that her skin wasn’t as vibrant as he remembered. Her cancer was spreading to her liver… her skin was turning yellow… Cat told him it was called jaundice. He didn’t understand anything that was happening inside his mother’s frail body but he could see it. He could see the hurt. His mother was in so much pain.

Pain in her back and her hip, she got fevers, she got chills, piercing agony coursing through all her bones. She was hurting so fucking much…. seeing his mom wasn’t for the faint of heart. And he was scared. He was scared to show Marco an image of his mother that would stay ingrained in his mind forever. He wanted his boyfriend to remember the Silvia from highschool who went to every game. The woman who embraced him and kissed him tenderly all over his face. The woman that said time and time again: I’m so proud of you.

That’s the woman Danny wanted Marco to remember.

Not the one that only had days left.

“You don’t have to come with me if you don’t want to…” Danny breathed. His feet were grounded on the floor, unable to move forward. He was scared.

Marco couldn’t even begin to understand what Danny must be going through, at least not in the literal sense. He could only understand that it was incredibly painful and difficult for his boyfriend. He knew that if anything were to ever happen to his own mother, he wouldn’t be able to handle it. There’s something uniquely special about the bond that mother and son share. Words never do it justice. So that’s how he knew he couldn’t, nor would he, leave Danny’s side, especially not when his boyfriend needed him more than ever.

Marco quickly shook his head, running his supportive hand along Danny’s back and that same hand came to hold Danny’s. “I’m not going anywhere.”

Subtly, Danny’s teeth trembled. Right. That decided it then. Gently, Danny knocked on the door with his knuckles before grabbing the doorknob and twisting it. When the door opened, the hospital bed was revealed. The one that replaced the master bed which was now in storage. Silvia was skin and bones, and pale, very pale, like a ghost. She was on oxygen and she stared at the ceiling, unable to make an expression. It looked like his dad had recently changed her piss pad so that was good. That part was always hard for him because he hated manhandling her as his sisters told him what to do, when to do it.

The tumor grew and spread quickly, consuming the organs that helped her live. For those who weren’t used to this sight, it was hard to swallow. Noticing the blood trailing from her lips, likely from her coughing, Danny left Marco’s side, grabbed a hand cloth and wiped her mouth like she was a baby. “Hey mom, good morning,” Danny calmly greeted and proceeded to compliment, “You look beautiful. Tiff did a wonderful job with your makeup. You’re wearing your favorite color… you look just like the ocean mom. Pretty blues. Pretty woman.”

There were small mumbles of acknowledgement from Silvia but nothing more and nothing less. “I, um, I brought someone… This person means the world to me and I wanted you to see him and know… I’m okay. I have someone to take care of me and me, him.”

First, Danny grabbed his mother’s hand. She tried to tighten her grip, tried to squeeze him, but barely had the strength to do so. He knew she was listening. He just knew, even if she couldn’t show it. With his other hand, he reached for his lover to grab, “Mom… you’ve met him before… but I wanted to introduce him as… ehem, well, my boyfriend. This is Marco. Marlena’s eldest boy. You know the one that helped you make gelato from scratch a few years back? Yeah, him. He is…” Danny paused trying to gather the right words. Instead he shook his head and looked at his boyfriend while talking to Silvia, “I love him, mama. I really love him.”

Marco couldn’t remember how long it had been since he saw Mrs. Belmonte. It had been a while. At least three years, give or take. Not since he was with Danny (albeit in secret) last. Back then, she was so full of life. Marco didn’t spend a lot of time, but the times she was, he remembered that much about her. Now, as he stood in her bedroom, watching Danny talk to her, she looked like a literal ghost, yet somewhere in there, as Marco tried to not let his surprise show too much, he could still see it: that life. Not so much in her face or the way her skin looked, but he could at least see part of it in her eyes.

That eased Marco and as soon as his boyfriend reached for his hand, Marco received it in full, squeezing Danny’s hand and smiled at him. His heart was beating in a different, fast pace than it normally did whenever Danny looked at him like that. He squeezed his boyfriend’s hand when he seemed to struggle for his words. “You have an amazing son, Mrs. Belmonte,” Marco said. His own mother wouldn’t forgive him nor could he bring himself to say her name. He was too respectful. “He makes me so happy. You know he has been helping me with my diet? We run every morning. I couldn’t do it without him.” Marco maintained eye contact with Danny, widening his smile some more as his eyes became much more watery than before. “I love him so much and I will continue to do so for as long as I am able to.”

His mother’s hand twitched in his hand and in silence, Danny looked at her face, noticing a tear trailing down her cheek. Subsequently, the Italian boy lifted his boyfriend’s hand and kissed it before gesturing with his eyes for Marco to kindly retrieve the bible off her dresser by the french door window. After releasing his lover’s hand, Danny leaned forward cautiously and gently adjusted her pillow. When he was close to her face, he whispered into her ear, “God’s got you.”

He wondered how long this would last. How long would his mom suffer? Seeing her like this broke his heart. Danny wanted her to see that he, his sisters, and his dad would be okay. They might be a little messy. Tragically disastrous some days. They were the Belmontes after all and everything they did was dramatic as hell, but they were going to be okay. She raised them right and gave them strong faith and an eternal love like no other. Not just the religious faith and the love from God.

No.

Silvia knew not all her children would continue the pursuit of Catholicism. She taught them to trust the process. She showed them a love that could not be matched by anyone else. A mother’s love. Faith was unseen but felt, it was strength when we felt like there was none, it was hope when all was lost. Her love had no law, no pity. It endures through all, even times like these where God’s presence seemed missing. Her love was completely pure and to him, she was his world. She was everything.

The past month Danny gained the courage to talk to her about all his ongoing issues like the pressure he felt with his father. He was reaching a point of acceptance. Deep down, he knew she didn’t have much longer but she was a fighter, fighting to stay with them. Just a little bit longer.

Kissing her forehead once more, Danny repeated, “God’s got you, mama.”

As Marco went over to the dresser, in his mind he knew he had to grab the bible, but he found himself being distracted by some of the things on the dresser. Little things like what looked like jewelry and pictures. He slightly smiled, seeing the bible at the center of everything. Seeing it, it was like any normal black bible, but then he noticed something about it that piqued his interest. There were all sorts of tags along the edge of the pages. It wasn’t just condensed on one part of it, either. As Marco held the good book with the spine down, he realized the tags were spread throughout the entirety. It reminded him of his great aunt Maeve, the one that lived in Ireland and whom Marco came to grow fond of when his family lived there for a time. She had one just like this with just as many tags. No surprise there considering just like his Great Aunt, Mrs. Belmonte was just as religious (or at least he assumed given the amount of tags).

Snapping out of that momentary flashback, Marco made his way back to the bedside, handing Danny the bible, making sure to treat it with care. “And here it is, babe!”

Grabbing the bible, Danny sat beside her on the edge of the bed and turned the pages, trying to find a reading. There were many he could choose but he didn’t want to choose something depressing. He wanted to comfort her soul. A knock on the door brought his gaze from the bible to the door, he replied loud enough for the other person to hear but quiet enough to not stir his mother, “I’m in here, but you can join me.”

The door creaked open to reveal Mirabella and her two guy best friends, Carter Jenkins and Asher Mitchell. Asher held a carbon fiber black cello while Carter held an acoustic white guitar. In Mira’s hand she held a cylinder sand shaker. She didn’t want her violin to take away from her vocals. Carter was actually a drummer for the marching band, but he could do slow songs on the guitar. Plus, you can use a guitar as a drum too. Asher was in the local orchestra. And all three of them were in the Lucky Charm A Capella troupe. They were juniors. “We can come back… I promised mom I’d sing her a song.”

“No, you guys can set up. There’s more room over there. By the closet.” Danny directed her best friends to the open space in the master bedroom. A little reading area for his mother when she saw better days. “I haven’t heard you sing since the vigil… I’d like to listen if you don’t mind, Millie,” The older sibling gave her reserved sister a soft smile before going back to the bible.

Marco had a short flashback to the vigil as soon as Danny mentioned it. He wasn’t able to attend it because, well, he had just been shot and was recovering from the emergency surgery on his ACL. But he watched it via Kylee’s Livestream. It was at the center of town. It was at night time but all of the candles spread throughout gave enough light to show the pictures of the victims and of those who were shot. Marco remembered Mirabella sang beautifully. She always had an angelic voice. “I’d like to listen too, if that’s okay!”

“Yeah, sure,” Mira looked between Marco and Danny, tilting her head at the sight. She wasn’t a brain surgeon but it seemed to her they were back together. Danny never told her. Not after that barbecue they disappeared that one time, not during junior year, and certainly not now, but she wasn’t dumb. She knew gay when she saw it. She was gay. Of course her brother was gay or bi, or whatever. He just gave off a vibe. “Matthew chapter 11, verses 28 to 30. That’s a good one,” The youngest Belmonte child advised before following her friends into the bedroom, closing the door behind her.

Nodding, Danny flipped through the bible until he found the spot, “Thanks, sis,” Shifting his body to face Silvia in the bed, Danny read with a firm tone, enunciating each pause, each word, and each break. His voice reverberated throughout the room of six people, including him. Once Asher sat on Silvia’s luxury tan accent sofa, with his cello between his knees and the upper bout against his upper chest, and Carter beside him with his guitar strapped on him, the two boys looked down in respect as Mira’s older brother did his reading.

“Come to me, all of you who are weary and carry heavy burdens, and I will give you rest.” Danny paused, hearing his voice choke up. This never got easier. No matter how many times he tried to be strong. Still, he needed to do this reading and not stutter. Not stumble. He needed to make his mother proud. Sunday school didn’t go to waste. He could understand the Lord’s word. Inhaling, exhaling, Danny glanced up from the bible to his mother’s face, and continued, “Take my yoke upon you. Let me teach you, because I am humble and gentle at heart, and you will find rest for your souls. For my yoke is easy to bear, and the burden I give you is light.”

Marco watched (and listened) proudly as Danny recited the verse with an equal clarity and emotion. He could see that his boyfriend struggled midway. He had no doubt that it must’ve been difficult for him and if it wasn’t for the fact that Mira and her friends were in the room, he would’ve comforted him but he just had to stand there and be the safety net that wouldn’t let him hit the ground.

“That was beautifully recited, Danny!” Marco stepped closer to his Italian boyfriend, giving him a loving glance.

“Thanks, yeah,” A little embarrassed, Danny stood up and closed the bible, “That was me… I’ll just, you can have the floor, Mils,” If it wasn’t for the two other boys, Danny would’ve kissed his mom again and told her he loved her. Instead, he walked to the dresser and placed her bible back, exactly how it was. He didn’t want to feel ashamed to be with Marco and to show him off, but he wasn’t ready to shout out to kids he didn’t know that this was the love of his life. Was that wrong? He should’ve gotten over this.

Quick to catch her brother coiling in his panic of showing emotional vulnerability, Mira with her monotone voice (think Aubrey Plaza), she shooed Danny’s boyfriend away from the hospital bed. Inches away from Marco, she smirked and muttered, “Give him time. He’s making a lot of strides. I imagine that’s thanks to you.”

Marco's smile widened by a small dose at Mira's words. Was it true? Did he really have anything to do with what Mira perceived as Danny making strides? He wasn't certain if he should be given sole credit for that one. He didn't bother asking how Mira knew. It wasn't the place, but it was obvious she did know. "Whether it was a lot or a little, all I've tried to do is be there for him," he admitted, looking from Mira to his boyfriend with a loving gaze. "He deserves any and all happiness in life and I just want to make sure he gets that and then some."

“You do too,” Mira said matter-of-factly. “Don’t lose yourself in him. You both need each other,” Half smiling at her brother’s lover, Mira went to her mother and delicately brushed Silvia’s hair to the side, “Just like I promised. Elisa’s wedding song, from the movie you really liked,” Her mom watched A Walk to Remember more times than Mira could count, which is why she knew Only Hope was the best song to perform for her.

Without a cue, Carter started strumming the guitar, gradually bringing in the cadence, which directed Asher to start with his cello. Sitting by her mother, Mirabella swayed to the string instruments, gracefully bobbing her head to the music. A love song, a good one at that, to make her mom think about their father. And God. Whatever she felt she needed more right now.

It felt right.

“There’s a song that’s inside of my soul,” She looked at her mother and then met her brother’s gaze, “It’s the one that I’ve tried to write over and over again.” She closed her eyes, letting the music take over the room, “I’m awake in the infinite cold, but You sing to me over and over again.”

The boys joined in on the chorus as they played their instruments, “So I lay my head back down, and I lift my hands, and pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I know now You’re my only hope.”

Shaking the sand cylinder, Mira looked at Asher, who calmly took over the next verse, “Sing to me all the songs of the stars, of Your galaxy dancing and laughing, and laughing again. When it feels like my dreams are so far, sing to me of the plans that You have for me over again.”

The chorus came and went and it was Carter’s turn with the bridge, “I give You my apathy. I’m giving You all of me. I want Your symphony. Singing in all that I am at the top of my lungs I’m giving it back.”

And for the last chorus, Danny joined in, “And I lay my head back down and I lift my hands and pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I pray to be only Yours. I know now You’re my only hope.” All but Danny sang as if they were in an empty room. They were pros at performing. Their souls became tangible through their song, while Danny did it more as a form of healing. He wasn’t virtuous like Mirabella but he wasn’t all that bad of a singer either. He had a good voice; needed a bit of tuning but the potential was there. He sang at this moment for catharsis and also to make his mother happy. She loved it when she joined in at church.

Singing gave words to the emotions they couldn’t express. He knew exactly why Mira loved it so much. She could communicate how she felt through her voice and today, he would share this with her. They both hurt. They both were watching their mother die. They both needed support. Neither pain mattered more. If anything, this song showed even within all the chaos, the Belmonte family had a strong love.

Thanks to Silvia.

They were strong.

Edenridge

_{TIME STAMP: A couple hours after "Make Your Own Luck"}
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When Mika returned to his Lost Souls Apartment from his time spent at the Edenridge High School gymnasium, he didn’t even bother changing out of his doubtless sweaty and dirty clothes. He found a spot on his shitty couch. He tossed his phone onto the coffee table, ignoring the fact that he left his tv on and the 7 O’Clock news was on. He muted it, deciding that he didn’t have the energy to spare to pay attention to whatever they were talking about. Instead, he just laid there, stomach first, arm under a pillow he forgot he left on the couch, and started to feel himself drift off.

And for a while, it was actually working. His eyelids were heavy, but he kept hearing something. As he faded in and out for about fifteen minutes, Mika finally opened one of his eyes up. He heard his phone go off. He groaned, rolling his eyes. “Can’t a guy just get some sleep?” He complained, feeling every bit of the temperamental guy he could be on one of three occasions: when he’s about to punch someone out that deserved it, when he’s so hungry he’ll fight anyone that looks at him the wrong way, and when he’s just trying to fucking sleep.

He forgot to look at the caller ID and answered. “Whoever the fuck this is, hang up now--”

“Mikhail…I wasn’t certain you would answer.”

He didn’t register the voice until a few seconds after that chilling tone rested in his mind. His eyes widened to the point that he had a surge of new-found energy that propelled him upright. He groaned again, of course as his stiff joints cracked, but he was alert and focused. He just wished he wasn’t alert and focused on him.

“Ivan. Why are you calling?”

“So it’s Ivan now. No longer ‘old bastard’ or ‘sperm donor’? I suppose I should call that an improvement, And apologies if it’s too early--”

“Don’t try and get me sidetracked, Ivan!” Mika roared. He was not only audibly angry, but visibly agitated. “Why the fuck are you calling me at any time? Didn’t Big Rey tell you? I want nothing to do with you anymore! And mom doesn’t either!”

“I..I’m aware. I’m sorry, son. I hope Mary is holding up well. Last I heard, she’s being well taken care of. Reynoldo informed me that she is taking up residence in the Lost Souls apartment complex. Third floor if I remember properly.”

Of course, he would know. Mika cursed under gritted teeth but tried to keep the cold storm of his rage under wraps for the time being. “That’s right. She’s in hiding. She can’t be with her family because of the dangers you put on us.”

There was silence until Ivan’s coughing was heard. “But she is doing well? Have you seen her recently? What about your sisters, son?”

Mika rolled his eyes, realizing he was just too damn fucking exhausting to keep this up. “Yeah, mother is good. She is making the most of it. And you’ll be happy to know that Uncle Gustav is doing what you couldn’t--” Or wouldn’t. He let out a sigh. “But why are you really calling, Ivan? You only give me three calls every year. It’s not my birthday and it’s not Christmas or Thanksgiving. So what is it?”

“I..” Ivan seemed to hesitate, clearing his throat (Mika had to assume). “I..just wanted to check in. It’s…I hope you’re well, Mikhail. I hope you aren’t letting life slip through your fingers. My mistakes…they aren’t yours to shoulder. I know you’re still quite angry at me, but don’t forget to love and live.”

Only half of what Ivan said really clicked. Mika heard his father’s words, but he also didn’t. He didn’t care to listen -- to really listen -- to what that monster had to say. “Yeah, I’ll do that just after I go take a fucking dump.” Mika stood up, realizing his joints were stiffer than he they felt like. “Talk to you in five months, Ivan.. Or not. Whatever you feel is most convenient.”

Mika hung up before Ivan could get another word in. And when he did, he tossed his phone on his couch and grunted in the annoyed way that seemed to be the default setting whenever Mika was forced to entertain calls from his good-for-nothing father. Ivan always had to do it, didn’t he? Make things worse for both of them. It was bad enough that Mika had to suffer through those calls when he knew they were coming, but to receive one from him without warning. What was he even thinking? Why did he even want to call him? Mika didn’t understand and maybe he never would. After everything that asshole did to him, Mika couldn’t care less what Ivan wanted.

“Don’t forget to love and live?” He repeated those last words as he sat on the toilet of his bathroom. He spent a good ten minutes thinking and pushing a big one out.

Shaking his head and wiping, Mika flushed and made his way to his kitchen, grabbing a can Rockstar Roasted, the coffee energy drink. He bought a few cans of them last night and thankfully his asshole brother didn’t come by unannounced and help himself to them. Now that he was thinking about it, Mika hasn’t seen nor heard from Cameron in quite some time. Not that he was complaining. His mental health and general mood haven’t been any better in the time that’s gone between their last unfortunate encounter.

Mika groaned and drank about half of the can, trying to push the thought of the Devil out of his mind like he did on his toilet when he was thinking about his father. He had to focus on things that actually mattered. Eventful morning with the Coach aside, Mika had to figure out what he was going to do today. Was he going to just have a lazy day in his apartment or maybe go see his mother before he went and hung out at Edge? That didn’t sound like a bad idea, in all honesty.

Actually yeah, that’s what he was going to do.

In a matter of just thirty minutes, Mika took a quick shower. Feeling refreshed, he changed into a simple outfit consisting of one of his hoodies (today’s was white), a dark-colored shirt (black), and navy blue jeans that were so dark that they could be confused with black. When Mika decided that he would do something, he always followed through and today he would spent a few minutes with his darling mother, the light of his life, and the ever-reliable moral compass that set things right for him whenever he was feeling lost and then he would spend at least a few hours at Edge. Some of the serpents were bound to be hanging around this time of day and Mika didn’t have any other plans for the day, so why not, right?

As he started to head out, Mika grabbed his keys, another can of the good stuff for the road, and a donut he bought yesterday. Next day donuts were better, anyway. Just as he was about to head out. Literally had his hand on the knob, Mika stepped on something that had went overlooked. A single envelope was on the floor. He bent down to pick it up and examined the exterior of the white envelope. It was addressed to him but had no return address. Part of him wanted to ignore it. Actually, he was going to, but for some reason he couldn’t really explain, he stopped himself in his tracks. He took a seat at his crappy ass table, set his donut and can of rockstar caffeine on the table and opened the envelope.

There was a letter.

And his stomach sank.

“Shit, is this another one?” Mika cursed a few more times.

He remembered telling Hyde how he didn’t care much about the letters. The last batch were about Allison Davies. He didn’t have anyone exceptionally close to him that centered around her, but Charlie, even if Mika wasn’t close to the late Charlie Decker, he was close with Boa and Poppy. And they were as close to someone as you could get without marrying them. So his mind went to them first. If it was another Charlie letter, then what would it be centered around this time? Who among his close friends would be a target this time?

Mika unfolded the letter and started to read. Just in the first paragraph alone, something felt different. The language from the letters past wasn’t present. In the letters from before, there was a certain way the words were phrased. Almost in a poetic sense. In this one, while it still felt loving in some way, it was different, yet as he read it, it felt…familiar.

“O’Hara 23..” Mika echoed the part of the letter he read. O’Hara 23 - that was David’s number, right?

As he went down the letter, reading it once to take it in (regardless how much it hurt to do so), he read it a few more times. Mika analyzed the language used. He allowed himself to become immersed in this letter -- no, the singular part of a love story that felt not like a stranger reading something for the first time but memories of the past (fond ones at that) trying to come back but nothing was clicking yet.

From the unique perspective this letter had, Mika could surmise that this was definitely someone who was, at a time, romantically linked to his late cousin. The language, the personal way this person’s words were phrased -- that much he knew was obvious. It was obvious and yet why did Mika feel like he knew this way of speaking? This way of conveying emotions and the thoughts that went through the mind?

God it was too early for this, but it was killing him. God, it was killing Mika so much.

Wait.

Close family ties? Family…

“Living outside of family’s shadows…”

And there it was. Like a neon sign shielding by the back of a big rig, it was right there in front of him and it smelled of sweet aromas on a day that Mika couldn’t believe he didn’t think of first. “It all comes back to that one day” was the last thing Mika said before plans changed. He was out the door of his apartment at Lost Souls and was driving into the Northside. There was only one place he knew he had to be right now.