FunnyGuy

Young Justice

Location: Water Treatment Plant
Interactions: The Team
Mentions:

---

Viktor's visor proved to be a luxury as his expression softened to a rare degree. As much as he trusted Kila, he could not shake off the risk of letting him go alone. It's the only way. He told himself in the face of defeat. It's the only way. He told himself as Kila tossed his mask to the ground. The conviction in his eyes was something Viktor recalled in their fight. It was not a hopeful fool’s bravery. He was never that in the face of adversity. What he displayed instead was his courage with all his anguish and concern buried beneath it. Though not completely aware of the gravity of the situation at hand, he faced it nonetheless.

Viktor disabled his comms and walked by Kila to retrieve the mask that could serve as a means to remember his contribution and connection to the team. Closer now, Vitkor took the opportunity to leave some parting words to his comrade.

“Kila. Just like times before… the Team will find a way to Pingyu.” He crouched down to pick up the mask and clipped it to his belt and re-established communication with the others.

“Deathstroke. Our team agrees to the terms of the trade. The others will not interfere as long as Daphne is returned with no further harm done to her.”

Young Justice

Location: Water Treatment Plant
Interactions: The Team
Mentions:

---

“A swamp isn’t the place for flowers now is it….?”

Viktor whipped his head around as an unfamiliar eluded to Daphne over comms. The enemy disengaging from attacking and the sudden quiet that followed signaled the arming of the trap Kila mentioned. He stepped out from behind a tree he was using as cover, getting a view of the raised platform and none other than the infamous mercenary known as Deathstroke with Daphne in his possession.

Deathstroke…

His visage produced more emotions within Viktor than he was comfortable with. Awe, anxiousness, fear, and doubt were the few among them. However, it was the feeling of nostalgia that aimed to emotionally cripple him. Viktor was more familiar with Ravager, his predecessor of superhuman serum redeveloped by HIVE. A serum hailed in the organization only due to the feats of the man who now had his team caught in his clutches.

Taking slow and mentally uneasy steps forward, Viktor found himself only able to watch Daphne get doused in gasoline. His mind felt divided on what to do as options and contingencies slipped away. Only partially present, events leading up to this moment pieced themselves together.

Ja’s unconsciousness in Taos, the bank heist, the nonlethal weapons, the strange man at the docks, and now this. The demand for Metamorph further pieced together the puzzle for Viktor. He was being tested. Vitkor stopped in his tracks. The Red Beast was being tested… For his ability to surface, combat capabilities… and his closeness to us. They knew he'd think of us. They knew he'd come here. Is this even Kobra?

Viktor groaned in frustration as the options narrowed down to only two. Daphne or KJ. Without effective range, the numbers, or a reliable way to escape, fighting back now wasn't in the cards.

“Each member of the squad understands the risks.”

Viktor focused on Daphne, soaked in gasoline and coughing from inhaling its fumes.

“Weighing your options is simple. What's more valuable? Who's more valuable? To the objective. To the team. Cull the weak if it's necessary.”

“Shut it, Zatara. Everyone, get to the boat and prepare to extract with the objective. You too Metamorph.”

“Deathstroke, the Terminator… You want us to trade Metamorph for Nymph? Disappointing. Your bargaining chip is pathetic. Burn her if you want. You’d be doing me a favor by ridding my team of someone who never belonged in the first place. Trap or not, we have what we came for,” Viktor might have said all of this if he hadn't grown as much as he had during his tenure with the team.

He was far from the person he used to be. He valued and trusted each and every member of his team, and that is why he chose to approach the situation starkly different from what he had been trained to be for years.

“Team, be aware that our adversary now has access to our comms,” He informed, though he wasn't entirely against Zach badmouthing Deathstroke. “Metamorph… Come to my position but… I believe you know what you have to do.” His sights remained fixed on Deathstroke. The idea of facing off against him ever-looming.

Young Justice

Location: Kobra Warehouse
Interactions: The Team
Mentions:

---

“Good thinking, Iceburn,” Viktor complimented after she had created a corridor using two ice walls. It gave them a clear path to the others while providing both cover and concealment. Knowing Iceburn was traversing one wall, Viktor leaped up to land on the other and fired at opportune targets while running along the wall.

As even more reinforcements poured in, Viktor had no choice but to descend back down between the walls.

Once Viktor, Pei, Kassy, and Will reached the others, Viktor pointed toward the deeper swamp from where they came. Not wasting any time, Viktor started relaying instructions.

“You heard Iceburn! She, myself, and Metamorph will fend off the enemies. Our team needs to use that boat on the dock. We need it running. Zatara, make it happen! Talos, get Stormcaller in the boat, and then get back here. Mirage, stick with Zatara, and keep the objective secure. Quiver and Nymph- Nymph?” Viktor’s eyes widened beneath his visor while his head whipped around searching for any hint of pink he could catch. “Where is she?! Rain to Nymph do you read me? Nymph?!”

Daphne, please…

She was nowhere to be seen.

Young Justice

Location: Kobra Warehouse
Interactions: The Team
Mentions: Cybergirl

---

“What… was that?” Viktor was on one knee with a hand against the side of his helmet as he recovered from the sharp feedback. It especially affected him due to his acute hearing abilities. Fuck. With a sigh stood back up and faced Quiver who had relayed what he was seeing. Viktor knew the only thing or person that could accomplish such a thing from outside was Cora. Remembering the fallout from the Taos mission caused him to tighten his fists before uttering, “It won’t be like last time. He rushed the garage door control, setting it to open.

“Let’s move! We need to make a break for the others and extract! We have the objective. Iceburn, give us a path to them. Mirage, assist as you see fit. Quiver, you and I will need to stay right behind them to keep the canisters secure. Let’s go!” As everyone pushed through the opened garage door, flanking the troops outside, Viktor contacted others over comms. “Inside team coming out. We’ll push through to you and then-”

“Team, you need to get out! This mission is a trap! I repeat, this mission is a trap!”

“Huh? Kila?” It was a rare occasion when Viktor called someone by their name during a mission but he was taken off guard by not only his teammate’s voice but his warning as well. A trap? No… Viktor hugged the canisters with his left arm and held his rifle in his right, firing taser rounds as he followed Iceburn and Mirage’s lead. “We need to extract, now! It was difficult to see where Cora was while focusing on the threats ahead of them.“And what is Stormcaller’s status?”

---

“I know it’s hard to remember and harder to change, but you’re not with HIVE anymore. We’re supposed to be a team. We need to be a team to achieve what they need us to. If we keep acting like this, someone’s going to get more hurt than they are now. I’m new to this whole hero thing too, but… to me, it seems like we need to work together. And we can’t work together if one person doesn’t look out for anybody else.”

“The team.”

“How does this sound then? ‘As long as it ensures the team’s success… it matters.’”

“Much better. But let’s add well-being. As long as it ensures the team’s success and well-being, it matters.”

“Hmm… Of course. As long as it ensures the team’s well-being and success, it matters…”

---

"Right, Alisa." Viktor glanced down at the canisters limiting his ability to assist the others. Knowing Quiver had one secured, Viktor dropped the two he was holding. Gripping his rifle with both hands, Viktor fired a hardening foam grenade round, disabling several foes in one shot. Trap or not, Viktor refused to keep his friends in the crosshairs of the enemy.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Riona & Alexander

Time: Mid-Day (After Edin’s milky hands)
Location: Castle Gardens

---

“Finally.” Alexander sighed out into the empty garden of the castle, taking his first true breath outside the view of King Danrose and his royal guard. I should have worn it. Alexander dug into his breast pocket to retrieve the ring he had removed during his conversation with Violet Damien. Holding it up, he narrowed his eyes. I should have worn this damned relic of a ring. He had a mind to toss it across the garden so he'd never think of needing it ever again. The idea was tempting indeed, but instead, Alexander slipped the ring onto his left hand. He shut his eyes, taking a deep breath as if he were taking in all that the garden had to offer.

And just like that, like magic, Alexander appeared to relax. His brow unfurrowed, his shoulders slightly dropped, and most obvious of all was the pleasant smile he wore upon his face.

“Ahh, much better.”

That was when a dark-haired woman wearing a simple dress with a noticeable tear along one side appeared from behind a towering hedge.

Riona froze, eyes wide as she locked gazes with the well-dressed stranger who reacted with raised eyebrows. She ducked her head in a half-bow. “My lord,” she said and tried to scurry past before things got awkward but Alexander was too swift. He performed a quick side-step to impede Riona’s advance while wearing the warmest of smiles. A flash of annoyance tightened Riona’s jaw for a heartbeat before her face smoothed back to neutrality.

“Alexander Deacon.” He placed a hand on his chest with a slight head bow. “I respect the formality, I do, but I would much rather have a proper introduction with one of the staff considering my presence here will be a normal occurrence.” Alexander was guessing the woman was a servant of some kind judging by her attire and initial behavior in greeting him. Olive complexion, tall, long black hair, dark eyes… Striking. His gaze upon her spoiled his thoughts of admiration and wonder concerning her exotic appearance compared to most. “Your name?”

Riona’s eyes narrowed to slits. An “Alexander Deacon” hadn’t come up in any of the staff meetings, and something about him set her nerves on edge. His gaze crawled over her, lingering like he was appraising livestock, making her skin prickle.

She eased back a step, angling her body to keep the torn portion of her dress out of sight. Her fingers curled tighter around the handle of her basket. The slight defensive change in posture was but a mental note for Alexander. “Pardon me, Mister Alexander Deacon,” Riona said, her voice steady despite the wariness inside her, “but who exactly are you, and what is your business here?”

“Apologies. Sometimes I'm much too modest. I should have opened with my newly given title.” Alexander exaggeratedly straightened up his posture, chin held high before he continued. “As of this morning, I am the Royal Advisor to the king,” he announced before flashing a toothy grin. “That is my only business here, milady, I swear.” He raised a hand in oath. What began as a playful admission would soon stir the pot of conspiracy.

Her eyes widened, shock plain on her face. “... What?” Riona breathed. Alden’s ransacked quarters pressed into her thoughts—and the blood. Gods. “... What happened to Sir Plannington?”

“Alden, you mean?” Alexander rubbed his chin in thought yet his face showed slight discomfort. There was reluctance but it was a simple facade. “I can't say I know for certain but I did hear a rumor or two, though they're not worth mentioning. What I know for sure, is that the position was left vacant by him.” He furrowed his brows with feigned concern, breaking away from his playful attitude “Is everything alright? Is there something I should know?”

Not worth mentioning, huh? “... Nothing that you don’t already know, I’m sure,” she replied, her tone carefully neutral. As the newly appointed Royal Advisor, Riona found Alexander’s apparent ignorance... convenient. At the very least he should know the state Alden’s room was left in… right?

… But how much did he really know?

Her gaze swept across the garden as if she was about to reveal something that she wasn’t supposed to.

“Your predecessor vanished without a trace,” Riona stated in a hushed voice. She watched Alexander intently, hunting for a tell—a twitch, a blink, anything that might betray his true knowledge. His eyes widened slightly before narrowing as if Riona had offended him.

“Of course. One of the rumors. ‘Sir Alden Plannington vanished without a trace. Stolen in the night. By whom? For what? No one knows.’” Alexander shrugged before he leaned in close. “I personally believe he just couldn't handle working with the king and lacked the courage to formally resign. Things like this happen… Unless there's more to it than what I’m aware of.” Alexander, leaning away now, crossing his arms. “Do I even want to know?” He asked aloud to himself.

“Considering he’s your predecessor, you should. The fact that you seem unbothered in the slightest concerns me.” Even if Alexander didn’t know about Alden’s disappearance, his blatant disregard for the whispers of the castle staff told Riona a lot about the new Advisor.

“And given how quickly you stepped into his shoes,” Riona continued, “I’d wager the rumor mill is just getting started. So, brace yourself.” She straightened, smoothing her dress. “It won’t be easy settling in as is.” Not when you had to deal with Edin every day. “Good luck.”

“Luck?” Alexander hated any mention of it to the point where he briefly furrowed his brow with disdain. “Listen, milady, as far as I know, and as you mentioned, Alden Plannington simply vanished. Perhaps the worst happened to him, perhaps the best.” Alexander turned slightly from her. “I wonder about it, sure, but I can't simply allow rumors to deter me…” He sighed deeply, almost defeatedly. “I’m not unbothered but I…” He winced as he seemed to fail to find the words but quickly collected himself. “Just know the risk is necessary. I aim to make the best of my life. To thrive and not simply survive, my nameless friend.” He was still looking off into the garden as he spoke.

Watching Alexander flounder, his earlier smoothness crack, Riona felt the tension in her muscles ease. “The risk, huh?” she mused.

“Yes, the risk.” He repeated softly while peering at her from the corner of his eye.

“I can respect ambition, as long as you’re not making other people pay the price for your ascension and you don’t see people as expendable pawns.”

“Oh, and since you seem to be allergic to luck? May the winds of fortune steadfastly ignore you.”

“Thanks.” Riona managed to return his smile as she humored him.

Her tone was light, playful even, but Riona’s instincts remained on alert. Did she trust the man? Not by a long shot. But if he was going to be the next Advisor, he’d find out a name soon enough. Might as well beat him to it. “You can call me Riona, Mister Alexander Deacon.”

“Riona,” he echoed smoothly. “It’s unique, which makes it perfect for you, I’d say.” He turned slightly to face her. “And now that I mention it… Hmm…” He parted his lips to speak but stopped himself and just managed to smile before quickly backtracking to another subject Riona had brought up. “I don't believe anyone could be a pawn for my ambition. I’d rather have as many allies and partners as possible.”

Riona caught the sleight of hand in his words and she didn’t hesitate to call him out on it either. “Pawn, ally, partner. Still expendable, aren’t they?” Her arms folded across her chest and she lifted her chin, meeting his gaze head-on. They mirrored each other in stance, though; their expressions couldn't be more opposing. A bittersweet combination.

“Well, Riona, some might consider that but not me. An expendable ally or partner just feels like an oxymoron.” He winced, showing how strange it would be to waste a connection with someone who could support him in the long run. “I could… show you.” He leaned in slightly “Show you how I deal with a partner,” he said with a smirk.

Arching an eyebrow, Riona leaned back, putting a deliberate inch between them. This conversation took an unexpected turn. “Care to elaborate, Mister Alexander Deacon?” Alexander stifled a chuckle.

“I, Mister Alexander Deacon, have a charity event planned with Prince Callum Danrose and Lady Mina Blackwood. I believe your participation would be the perfect opportunity to experience something I helped put together and at least have a little fun.” Alexander spread out his hands welcomingly. “But!” He raised a finger. “I must be transparent and admit that this event happens to be a dating auction, so I will understand if you decline the invitation, Ms. Riona.”

She just… stared at Alexander. He stood there, practically preening, as if he’d just delivered the deal of the century.
Seconds ticked by.
And then more seconds.
When it became clear that was all he had to say, Riona let out a slow breath. “Right,” she said. “And this proves that your allies and partners are indispensable, how, exactly? Because from where I’m standing it sounds more like you’re fishing for brownie points and scraping the bottom of the barrel for more meat to toss on the auction block.” Riona was just a commodity for the event, not a partner or an ally. Maybe he was talking about Callum and Lady Mina, then.

“Fishing for brownie points and scraping the bottom of the barrel? In other words, I am desperately attempting to impress others with an undesirable.” Alexander appeared disagreeable to this, squinting his eyes at her. He briefly looked away. “Maybe it’s just me.” he said himself with a shrug, alluding to something he decided to keep to himself.

“As far as partners and allies go…” He returned his gaze to her. “This event has its moving parts with the goal of aiding those in need. All while keeping up the theme of this year’s courting season to attract those who’d normally never think of sparing a coin to the impoverished. Your part in it would be just as important as my own, a team effort. I only wish to show that I’m not one of these pompous nobles who seek to use you for their needs and take all praise for your contribution. I’d even let you help host the thing.” He shrugged again and sighed. “I will admit, it’s not the most tasteful event to inquire of you on our first meeting, so if you have something better in mind, be my guest Ms. Riona.”

Again, Riona couldn’t help but feel like Alexander was dodging answering her question. “To what end?” she asked instead. “You said you want to show that you’re not ‘one of these pompous nobles.’ To. What. End?”

“That was simply for your own assurance that I mean well for those I work with and that I have no pawns. But if you're talking about the big picture…” Alexander walked around Riona's rear looking over her once more. “It could be dangerous to reveal that so openly.”

“That answer doesn’t do much to inspire confidence, Mister Alexander Deacon.” Her eyes narrowed as she tracked his movement, her body pivoting slowly to keep him in view. “And I believe you can’t be allies or partners if there’s no trust.”

Appearing on the other side of her, he continued “True. Trust must be built after all. Let's just say I seek to make necessary changes here, and the success of the auction is just one small step toward that. I don't need you but I’d love to have you.” Alexander made an obvious glance at the tear in her dress. Though he raised an eyebrow, he didn't choose to comment on it.

Instinctively, Riona’s hand quickly reached over to hide the tear. “And why is that?”

“Well, for one, I find you to be quite the beauty. I only wish you'd smile a little more. But besides that, there's something else. I can't quite put my finger on it but something about you draws me in. Maybe it's your wit or those dark eyes that seem to peer so deeply into my own. The third reason…” He briefly averted his gaze playfully. “I’d get to make a better second impression than this one.” He chuckled lightly.

A sliver of anxiety snaked through her when Alexander mentioned her eyes. Riona kept her expression stern, hoping her skepticism of the man overpowered the unease. And yeah, she was definitely still suspicious of him. But aside from his sudden appearance as Royal Advisor, his evasive answers, and a simple gut feeling—she had nothing on him.

“I see,” Riona said, “your first impression might not be great, but you can salvage it by being transparent about the allocation for the charity funds. And don’t give me vague platitudes about ‘helping those in need.’ We’ve all seen and heard too many stories of coins meant for the needy somehow finding their way into lining other people’s pockets. So tell me, where exactly each coin will go?” Then she could verify later to see if he was telling the truth.

“Unfortunately, I don't have that answer. Apologies if that further ruins your impression of me.” He smirked. “It's Prince Callum Danrose who will decide the allocation of the charity funds. I don't know your opinions on him but judging by what I know of him and his views, I think he’ll ensure the contributions are provided to the poor in some form or fashion. If anything, I can give him a few ideas during our upcoming meeting based on my humble upbringing. Shelters and orphanages in need of proper beds, soup kitchens, or perhaps even tailoring an event for those of less affluence for once.”

If Cal was overseeing the allocation of funds, at the very least, Riona didn’t have to worry about the money being misused. More participants meant a larger pool of donations, regardless of how much someone bid on her. Even a little money could go a long way.

“Alright,” Riona said with a nod, her decision made. “If it helps raise more donations, I’ll put myself up as one of the auctioned dates.” Then with a smirk, added, “And I suppose this means you get another shot at impressing me, Mister Alexander Deacon. Let’s see if you can do better this time around.”

Alexander raised his eyebrows, surprised by Riona’s answer after how he had replied to her last question. He could only guess that she had some faith in the young prince. That or she just enjoyed playing with him like a feline with a ball of yarn.

“I look forward to it, Ms. Riona. I'll add you to the list of participants and I'll ensure you're informed with additional information and any changes to the event. You shouldn't be too difficult to find… Oh and before I forget.” Alexander retrieved his black notebook and pencil from his jacket. “Your measurements. So you don't have to worry about finding a dress.”

Measurements. Right. The last time anyone had bothered measuring her for clothing, she had just been officially accepted as a maid. The dress Riona wore now had started life three sizes too large before she’d taken a needle and thread to it. “That’s considerate of you, but a large cotton dress and a belt, or anything that could serve as one, should work.”

“Modest,” he commented while jotting in the notebook. “I’ll ensure you have some options to choose from in terms of style and color. For hearing me out, and making a good first impression. Now, I’m afraid I may have stolen enough of your time. Thank you, and… I’m sure I’ll see you around plenty on the grounds, Ms. Riona.”

“... I’m sure we will, Mister Alexander Deacon. Goodbye.” Riona bobbed her head and started down the garden path. She glanced over her shoulder once, getting one last good look at the new Royal Advisor, before disappearing behind the stone archway.

Until we meet again.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Edward's Estate
Interaction: @princess @PapaOso @Lava Alckon Cassius, Charlotte, Drake
Mention:

For Lord Drake! For the Kingdom! For Furonia!

For Lord Drake! For the Kingdom! For Furonia!

For Lord Drake! For the Kingdom! For Furonia!

The pledge kept Lorenzo from slipping from his one and only focus now: presenting Drake Edwards’ gifts. Charlotte surprisingly appeared at his side as he thought she was going to work with Cassius to sort out the two gifts amongst the collection gathered at the party.

“Benjamiiin!” Lorenzo called as he approached the driver's carriage. Like clockwork, Benjamin rounded his carriage with a large off-white box riddled with countless tiny holes. “Lottie, please. Please, be careful with that, please,” Lorenzo begged with clasped hands.

For Lord Drake! For the Kingdom! For Furonia!

Lorenzo continued to burn the objective into his very spirit as he, Charlotte, and Cassius marched toward Drake. Lorenzo remained empty-handed, shirking the carrying of two boxes to Cassius while he focused on the full and complete delivery of gifts.

“Drake… Drake! DRAAAAKE!” He had to be sure the young man heard him with so many people around. “We, the Vikenas!” Lorenzo outstretched his hands before looking at Charlotte… and then Cassius. “AND the Damiens have splendid gifts for you, young man! And we want to make sure we see them delivered to you personally!” Lorenzo grabbed the red box from Cassius. “I won't open them, of course, no no no, I won't. I know you children treasure tearing at the wrapping papers.” Lorenzo chuckled.

“In this box… is some firepower I think you’d love to tote around this season! A brand new SINGLE ACTION REVOLVER! Ooh! I wish I could have gotten it myself but Drake Edwards… you are blessed this day! But wait! Don't react just yet! I have some more things to gift!” Lorenzo handed off the box to Drake and grabbed the white box Cassius held next.

“This! This will ensure you are nothing but successful this courting season! I made myself! You won't believe it! I call it a Courting Kit!” As Lorenzo handed over the box, he continued. “It has colognes, perfumes, scented and unscented candles, handkerchiefs, oils, letter-writing material, a book of poetry, a love potion, and of course plenty of… rubbers.” Lorenzo wore a mischievous smile with the last word. He stared at Drake for a little longer than normal in his drunken stupor before making way for Charlotte to present the third and final gift.

“And saving the best for last! I think every good man needs an even better companion. And do you know what's better than a better companion? Hmm? TWO! Drake Edwards, you are now the proud and lucky owner of TWO TWIN FERREEEEETS!” Lorenzo slightly opened the lid of the box, revealing the two black eyed white ferrets curiously staring up at Drake. “TWO TWIN FERRETS!”

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Edin Danrose & Alexander Deacon

---

It was yet another busy day for Alexander Deacon, a promised outcome for his position in the Black Rose. More trust meant more responsibility, and therefore more action. Duty amongst the highest rung of the organization was a far cry from the counts and dukes of the kingdoms that weren't required to work with so many layers of secrecy. On the other hand, Alexander was afforded far more freedoms than those below him. It was exactly why ventured into the royal domain of King Edin Danrose. There was far more resistance to be had in the form of guards and servants that questioned his intentions and made every effort to turn him away, but Alexander had a way with persuasiveness that was unmatched, unnatural.

It was not a gift he often flaunted due to his own pride for his gift of gab but its effectiveness was required here to pacify the obstacles that would keep him from having an unscheduled audience with King Edin.

Alexander walked, accompanied by a guard, through the corridors with grace while wondering what it might feel like if they were his own. How it might feel to be king. As he neared his destination, the drawing room, he could pick up the faint sound of the hushed voices of women. He motioned to knock but stopped up on noticing his ring still absent from his hand.

It's fine. He convinced himself, making a decision his wife, Lianna, might not be fond of. Still, he believed he could be just as charismatic as he was now. And so, following a form knock, Alexander entered the room.

What the fuck?

His eyes widened at the scene. King Edin was swaddled snuggly on a bed in a room full of consorts all dressed rather strangely yet there was some familiarity to their appearances. No… did he really? No. The more he discovered, the worse this scene appeared to be. There were painted footprints along the floor, oil and whip cream spilled about, a bucket of milk in the bed…

“Gods.” Alexander let out softly as he noticed one of Edin’s hands out from the swaddle and dunked into the bucket.

“Excuse me, sir, his majesty requires privacy, I-” The consort was cut off mid sentence as Alexander connected the appearances of the consorts in the room.


“Violet… Damien?” Identifying her so suddenly caused her to shamefully tug on the black wig she had been ordered to wear. Alexander briefly looked at each of the others, playing a mental matching game before shaking his head with a light chuckle.

“Apologies ladies. I hate to break up this party but I require an audience with his majesty. I’m sure you all don't mind cleaning yourselves up.” Alexander tried making himself seem like a convenient reason for the women to escape the confines of the room. He moved from in front of the doorway, being careful not to step in anything as he let the women out

“Wait. You, Queen Camilla, wake him for me, I don't wish to alarm the king.” Alexander requested from the consort depicting the Varian queen before she could make her exit.

As the consort gently shook Edin, trying to wake him from his slumber, he mumbled incoherently at first, his eyes still closed.

"Bring me the largest pillow in the kingdom…" he muttered, his voice soft and dreamy. "I will sit upon it... like a throne..." His words slurred, a slight grin forming on his lips as he continued, clearly lost in his fantastical dream.

The consort blinked in confusion but continued to shake him gently, trying to rouse him further.

"And then... throw all the other pillows at me... like I’m under siege..." Edin continued, his voice growing more dramatic in his sleep. "I must... defend my kingdom…" Alexander mentally noted Edin might have been intoxicated and still may be in such a state. Patience. That is what is required.

Finally, with another gentle shake, Edin’s bloodshot eyes snapped open fully, the remnants of his dream slowly fading as he blinked groggily up at the woman.

His expression darkened instantly, and he let out a groggy, frustrated growl, struggling against the swaddled blanket wrapped tightly around him. His movements were clumsy, almost frantic, as he tried to free himself, his face flushing red with anger.

"Who dares?!" he barked, his voice booming as he thrashed in the blanket. He glared at the woman who had disturbed him, his eyes wild. "You dare wake your king from his nap? And not a single one of you remembered to pleasure me!" He snapped his head toward the group of consorts, his voice sharp and cutting.

The women shrank back, exchanging fearful glances, unsure how to respond to his sudden outburst.

Edin huffed and continued struggling with the blanket like a man possessed, grumbling curses under his breath as he tried to get free. "Useless! Every last one of you! What am I paying you for?!" He spat, his anger growing with each passing second as his struggles made little progress.

“...You’re not…” came a mumble from one of the girls.

But then, suddenly, Edin froze, his bloodshot eyes locking on Alexander standing across the room. His demeanor shifted in an instant, the fire in his eyes extinguished as his expression morphed from rage to a forced calm.

"Ah... Mr. Deacon..." he said, his voice suddenly smooth, as if his previous outburst had never happened. He sat up straight, now desperately trying to compose himself, still half tangled in his blanket. "I, uh... wasn’t expecting company."

Alexander finally opened his mouth to speak but the sound dripping filled the room.

“Um… Your majesty…” Alexander motioned his hand toward the now overturned bucket. Fortunately, Edin had knocked it away from himself but now the milk was spilling onto the floor. “These consorts truly are useless. Queen Camilla, stay and clean that up for your king. That's something that should have been set aside.” Alexander ordered, almost matching the contempt Edin had for them when he first woke.

King Edin's face contorted with frustration as he noticed the milk spreading across the floor. His bloodshot eyes darted from the puddle to the consort Alexander had addressed. The sharpness returned to his voice as he barked, "Yes, you heard him, Queen Camilla! Clean it up at once!" The consort then hurried to clean the spill with haste.

Still tangled in the swaddle, Edin squirmed awkwardly, trying to free himself without much success. His movements were sharp and aggressive as he tugged at the blanket with a grunt, growing more flustered by the second. Two of the consorts hurried to help free him, sensing an upcoming meltdown. Alexander could only let loose a subtle sigh. I think I can see why Plannington is a bit touched in the head. It was either from tenure in experiencing the mess or one would have to be mad already

“You trapped me! It’s too tight!” He shouted. “This is… witchcraft!” he complained, kicking at the blanket furiously. Finally after an awkward moment, the king was freed with their assistance, his skin was noticeably oily.

“As I was saying,” he continued, attempting to smooth his disheveled appearance and failing miserably. He paused, scratching his stubbly chin as if trying to piece together a puzzle, “...Mister... Deecoo, how in the Primitus did you even get here? What are you doing in my chambers?" His questioning caused Alexander to briefly raise an eyebrow but only because his name was said incorrectly.

Before Alexander could respond, the king let out an impatient grunt, dismissing his own question with a wave of his hand. “Eh, forget it. More importantly, what brings you here? Were you perhaps hoping to, uh... enjoy the company of my women?”

He gestured lazily at the consorts, a crooked smile creeping onto his face. Meanwhile, the women, who had been edging slowly toward the door, froze in place, their eyes wide as if they’d been caught in the act. “You can feel free to take up to two of them home with you. Don’t even have to bring them back honestly.”

“Two? You spoil me, your highness. I'll be sure to keep the offer in mind. I do have a dating auction to run in a couple of days and put them to use.” Alexander turned to the women to grace them with a smile before facing Edin to continue speaking with him.

“What I'm truly here for is to fill the vacancy left by Alden Plannington, as your Royal Advisor. And to be frank…” Alexander briefly faced the women still lingering. “Leave.” The volume of his voice was but a hush yet his tone was sharp. The consorts scattered from the room like frightened birds, their hurried steps barely a whisper in the spacious chamber. Edin watched them go half heartedly, his expression shifting to something more serious. Once the door closed, silence settled over the room, heavy with unspoken tension. “You need it now more than ever,” Alexander continued.

Edin's smirk faltered, his face growing uneasy as he processed what Alexander had just said. He knew full well who he truly worked for: Marek Delronzo, a name that haunted his thoughts more often than he cared to admit.

For a brief moment, the king's eyes darted around, as if searching for an escape or perhaps calculating his next move. His usual bravado was replaced by a guardedness that rarely surfaced. He sat up straighter, his previous casual demeanor gone, replaced with something more cautious.

"Royal Advisor, huh?" Edin's voice was slower and edged with suspicion. His bloodshot eyes locked onto Alexander’s face, watching for any signs of deception or ulterior motives. The offer was too sudden, too bold, and Edin wasn’t foolish enough to believe it came without strings attached.

"I know you work for Marek," Edin finally said, his voice dropping to a near whisper. "So, why are you here, really? To spy on me? To control me like one of his puppets?"

“Control you? Me?” Alexander pointed to his chest, his face lacking the amusement he desired to show, yet a hint of it was carried by his tone. “Your highness, you mistake my intentions, and for you to believe someone of your stature could be manipulated… like a puppet?” Alexander narrowed his eyes slightly, peering deep into Edin’s with scrutiny. “Do you forget who you are, King Edin Danrose?”

Edin's eyes narrowed at Alexander's words, but then, as if flipping a switch, his entire demeanor changed. The unease that had clouded his face moments ago disappeared, replaced by a confident smirk that stretched wide across his lips. “A puppet?” Edin chuckled,“Let me tell you something—People think they can pull my strings, but in the end, I’m the one holding the marionette. Ask anyone.” He tapped his own chest with a grin. “I could never forget who I am!”

“And neither should anyone else!” Alexander encouraged with a proud fist but his excitement quickly died down as he gave the room another look. His expression morphed neutral. “Whether you accept me or not, I won't tell a soul what I discovered here. I won't allow anyone to doubt you. To know that you can be vulnerable, my king. Not even Marek. ” Alexander clasped his hands behind his back and took a step forward. “I may be the Vice President of the Black Rose but my loyalty will always place the Kingdom of Caesonia above all else, and what is the kingdom without its king?” Alexander raised his eyebrows anticipating a response.

Edin leaned back, watching Alexander carefully. “Loyalty is a dangerous word, Mr. Deecoons. You speak of devotion to me, yet your position with Marek... well, it’s not one to be overlooked. He must have sent you here after all.”

He paused, then added, “Tell me, how do you plan to serve as my advisor and still keep Marek happy? You think you’ll have time for us both?” He folded his arms, his eyes lighting up with realization. “And hey! If I am so great, why do I need an advisor in the first place?!”

Alexander chuckled, showing he wasn't intimidated by the logical questioning sent his way. The mispronunciation of his name did not phase him this time around.

“I admire your thoroughness… but you managed to figure out the answers to questions you have posed to me, your highness.” Alexander walked around the bed and knelt down beside it so as to not tower over Edin. “You are great, there's no doubt in that fact. You were born and raised to be nothing less… but being great isn't a fixed status. One can always be greater, ever closer to perfection. I’m sure you're aware of those who doubt you despite your accomplishments. As your advisor, I would aim to eliminate that doubt by flushing it away with nothing short of success.” He shook his head as he placed a firm palm on the surface of the bed. “I wouldn't even have to dedicate too much of my time. You're so close already. You just need a little push here and there. If you require more, I’ll deliver… Marek will understand. No one comes before your highness.”

Edin eyed Alexander with narrowed eyes. His fingers drummed idly on the bed as if contemplating the offer before him. For a moment, the room seemed to grow quieter, the king’s earlier bravado dimming ever so slightly as he mulled over the proposition.

“Hmm… quite the flattering speech,” he began, his voice slower this time, a touch of wariness lingering. “But you know… I’ve had offers before. Promises of greatness, of success. Advisors always wanting something. Always wanting a piece of this power...” Edin’s reluctance failed to shake Alexander who remained ever so stoic.

He shifted his weight, clearing his throat, and for a brief moment, a flicker of uncertainty crossed his face. The King rose, his oily skin glistening in the light.

An eyebrow rose at the sight, but still, Alexander maintained his composure. He had to if he was presenting himself as someone who could face whatever Edin threw his way.

Lubricated and inebriated, Edin stumbled around as he approached him. “I’m the king, you see? I’ve got everything I need. Why should I need a push from you?” He rubbed his chin, seemingly lost in thought. “Marek’s been in my ear, too. So, what makes you different?”

His eyes lit up as he came to stand before him with wide eyes. “But... greater, you say?” Edin’s grin returned, “I do like the sound of that. Perfection is always within reach, isn't it? Even for someone as naturally gifted as myself.” Alexander winced, wondering how Edin had simply talked himself out of his initial reluctance.

He suddenly laughed heartily in his face, the alcohol pungent on his breath. “Alright. I’ll give you a chance but if you’re going to push me, make sure it’s the right kind of push. No shoving, understand?” King Edin patted the man’s cheek with a milky, soft hand, “… You’ll report here every morning and I’ll keep you for a few hours. I am giving you a trial run.”

“Uh..” Alexander lowered his head in a deep bow. The act appeared to give thanks and reverence for Edin granting him the honor of being the Royal Advisor but in truth…

Alexander’s eyes bulged intensely as he grit his teeth, fighting the urge to say something unbefitting.

“Thank you, your highness. Really, thank you very much. I promise, you. I swear, you will not be disappointed.” A wicked grin spread across his face.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Edward's Estate
Interaction: @princess @PapaOso Cassius, Charlotte
Mention: Draaaake

Lorenzo let out a sigh followed by a low grumble as Charlotte attempted to aid him. She even pulled Cassius into the matter, stating that the young man could help carry the gifts. How many were there? Two? No… Benjamin has one! Lorenzo sighed once more.

“We need to find Benjamin. Benjamin… He has the third gift… He holds the key to making this day the most memorable in Lord Drake Edwards’ life.” Lorenzo struck his fist down on the table as a way to push himself to commit to deliberate action. He couldn't let himself sink into drunkenness! Not yet! “Red and white… Those are the wrapping paper colors… I used for the first two gifts… Mhm. Those. I have to.” Lorenzo struck the tabletop again! “I must stand… I must get to the parked carriage.”

Rising to his feet again is when the well-dressed duke truly felt the effects of all of the alcohol he had consumed. He took a moment to look to turn his body, swiveling to get a feel for his coordination. It was terrible. Add the fact that he'd have to walk on grass.

Also add the fact that he had to walk through the party scene.

Oh, you're not done. Now, add the fact that he might pass his enemies going to and from the carriage.

“Lottie, I'm afraid you and your… Cassius? Ugh…” Lorenzo hadn't even looked at either of them in an attempt to focus his mind while he laid out the plan. Despite his attempts to compose himself, his slurring grew worse. “You sshould both head to the pile of giftsss ov’r there… One is red… one isss white. Just….” Lorenzo shut his eyes for a moment in an attempt to find the words he needed to continue on. “Jusst look f’r my name in them and I’ll go… I’ll go to the carriage myself. I… I must do it alone. I am… Duke- no. I am King Vikena. King Vikena can do anything.” His first few steps lacked finesse, appearing as if he was too dizzy to walk. All it took was for him to find a straight path for him to stick to, and with that, Lorenzo was moving with some level of stability. Still his facial expression appeared as if he was performing the most arduous task.

For Lord Drake! For the Kingdom! For Furonia!

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: Morning
Location: Edward's Estate
Interaction: @princess @Helo @PapaOso Cassius, Callum, Charlotte
Mention:

Charlotte with her charm had for a moment, taken Lorenzo away from the goings on of the stage. He couldn't help but admire her in such a carefree state as he she held onto him.

“She’s got… cheesy toes!” Lorenzo chuckled. It would be his last during this outing.

“The cheesiest.” He added before watching her stumble. He took a step forward to aid her but stopped the moment she erupted into laughter. He smiled, sharing her happiness before his eyes drew to the stage.

Lorenzo thought he'd be staring into the eyes of a hateful enemy. One he could glare at with nothing but enmity. He stood strong as they locked but… something was off. Something was…

Disgusting. Completely and utterly disgusting. The idea of it- No he could see it here and now. Lorenzo mentally cursed the image slowly cementing into his psyche. Now, he was silent, paralyzed with regret. The man could only wish he hadn't attended this party today. He wished he was blind. Temporary or permanent, it mattered not to him. All he desired was to unsee the abomination set before him.

Which god dared do this? Which god yearned to birth such enmity and aversion into the core of his being? Into his soul? What had he done to deserve this? Lorenzo was no saint but even if he was a shameless debaucherous scoundrel, he would not deserve this… this thing. It would be perfectly fine for someone else but for Lorenzo, this was no different than serving him a stack of syrup-glazed pancakes for lunch. A late lunch at that! One that could never be mistaken for the flexible meal-time known as “brunch.” Blasphemy! Perhaps it was exactly that. Some foul demonic entity was preying upon his peace and sanity. Poking at him with a bloody dung-covered spearhead, cackling as it did so. He only wished it had aimed for his eyes first.

Blindness. Was it the remedy? Or was it the goal? To remove the very sight from his senses could not save him as much as he wished it could have. What of his mind? His soul? Stricken and assaulted so viciously that he might not recover. Perhaps if he continued drinking, he could forget. That… that would be the remedy, yet also a gamble. What if he remembered despite putting himself in a terrible stupor? What if in that stupor, he entertained this thing that deserved to be wholly rejected? What if he accepted it?

Disgusting. Completely and utterly disgusting….

Dutchess Victoria’s head whipped toward Lorenzo, her eyes appeared to be filled with burning passion. A passion Lorenzo was no stranger to, as he could recall the same look Mayet had given him when he attended dinner with the Alidasht royal family. Her lips parted as if she was going to speak, however, her attention was drawn elsewhere. Lorenzo was bewildered by this advance coming from someone he was never fond of. As abusive as Emina was to him, Victoria seemed to somehow supercharge Emina’s willingness to commit harm to him. All the two women needed was a single afternoon outing and his wife would return to him in an intolerant and nigh hateful mood.

So why? Why was Victoria looking at him in this way? Was this her method of enacting retribution? Or had she been flattered by the insult to her foul-smelling feet?

Does she like that sort of thing
… please no. Pleeeeease no.

Maybe… Maybe it was all in his head. Gideon, her husband, had approached her to take control of the situation. Lorenzo thought him to be a masterful mediator while he appeared to have some kind of magical power to subdue the hellish fiend of woman. As Gideon laid a hand on her, Lorenzo felt it safe to look away but something kept him. She kept him.

What now? A threat? An insult?

Her lips curled into a tight, challenging smile. A daring smile that one flashed when faced with an on-par obstacle. Even with her beloved husband at her side, she dared try to tempt Lorenzo. The betrayal! Her eyes were locked on him, requiring him to use every ounce of his being to keep from dry heaving. Lorenzo would remain strong in the face of such adversity but could doing so only encourage her? With all the elegance and poise of a practiced noblewoman, Victoria lifted her glass, as if in a mock toast, her fingers tightening ever so slightly around the stem. Lorenzo could only gulp knowing there was no doubt anymore. This… this was real. This was true. He had mistakenly opened the gates of hell and now there was a horrid demon claiming him with lustful intentions.

"Enjoy the party, Duke Vikena," she said softly, her voice carrying just enough edge for him to know what she desired from him if it wasn't already obvious. As she lowered her glass, her eyes remained fixed on him. She didn’t need to say anything more—her look alone was enough to make it clear. It was an invitation. A depraved invitation. Lorenzo could do nothing as he dared not embarrass Gideon in such a way. Falsely claiming his wife had smelly feet was a small thing but this… This was alarming. How could he tell Gideon his wife's intentions? What if Gideon was in on the whole thing? No… he had his peculiarities but Gideon Edwards was not that kind of man. Lorenzo had just created a temptress he did not desire in the slightest, and he was well aware Victoria Edwards was not a woman who forgot about the things her eyes desired. It's why she had nearly everything she wanted at the end of the day.

With one last piercing stare that could cut through steel, she averted her gaze and addressed everyone, or that's how Victoria made it appear. Despite not looking his way, she still addressed him… secretly yet in the open, she continued to speak to him.

"For the record, I bathe daily and apply only the finest floral-scented lotions to my feet regularly. I receive pedicures every week from the best in the kingdom. If anyone doubts me, you're welcome to sniff my feet yourselves!"

An invitation. Just as he thought.

Lorenzo took a seat, again cast into despair, knowing Victoria was unrelenting. She would force him to smell her feet now, and there would be no end to her attempts until he gave in. To think the woman had a foot fetish, and he unknowingly stepped into the web of her kink. Grabbing another glass, he could do nothing but embrace it. Embrace it so he could forget this if he was lucky. As he drank half the glass, he noticed Charlotte and Cassius lying beside each other in the grass below. He was glad to see her happy but was unsure what to think of Calbert's son. He had been so nasty to him, yet seemed fixated on Charlotte.

“Why are they still on the grass… oh, they're drunk… like me… oh,” Lorenzo mumbled. “Lottie… please darling, get up… There's… there's feet down there, Lottie. So many feet… ugh… I have to give Lord Drake his gifts…. I have to do it… do it before the dutchess finds a way to corner me.” He mumbled barely intelligibly. “Lottie… get up from there. The king ferret…. Lorenzo Vikena, the ferret… the ferret king of the Furonian Kingdom demand… it.” Lorenzo sighed in defeat, resting the whole weight of his face on his propped hand mumbling to Charlotte as the Ferret King Lorenzo Vikena of the Furonian Kingdom about getting up from the grass to avoid being attacked by feet.

Young Justice

Location: Kobra Warehouse
Interactions: The Insiders
Mentions:

---

Though Viktor inquired about utilizing smoke for concealment to Quiver, he wasted no time awaiting an answer. Viktor preferred and often employed aggressive tactics against his foes. Fast and lethal… without the lethal nowadays.

“Cover the rear, you two!” Viktor ordered as he tossed a smoke grenade to form concealment in the open space beside Pei’s avenue of approach. As the grenade produced its thick smoke, Viktor holstered his rifle on his back and immediately rushed forward to support Pei with a flanking maneuver. The walls of smoke and ice did well in splitting the attention of the Kobra agents. The one of ice presented an obvious threat as it advanced on their position while being used as a weapon against them. While the smoke brought on feelings of anxiety, wondering when and where Rain might leap from its confines.

With more focus on the devil they knew, a few of the gunmen found themselves unprepared for what came next.

Cora’s sudden lightning strike not only disabled the central air system in the facility but it caused a flickering in its lights.

NOW!

Viktor leaped from the smoke, performing a vicious lariat to drop one gunman while continuing forward with little change in his momentum. Blitzing the next agent, Viktor hit him with an opened palm thrust, sending him flying back into the garage’s back wall.

With the counterattack proving to be successful, Viktor took the opportunity to respond to Cora’s previous message on comms.

“Hold off for now, Stormcaller, I think we may have found what we're looking for,” he said just before delivering a kick to the ribs of a Kobra agent attempting to pick himself off the ground. Viktor continued forward toward a pallet stacked with canisters filled with an unknown substance. With the smoke cleared and the ice settled, Viktor grabbed two canisters from the stack. “My squad has secured the objective. Your squad should focus on securing our extraction. We’ll meet you outside and then we'll attempt to rush back to the boat.” Viktor approached Kassy with a single nod.
“Mirage. When we get out there, try to save your energy. We need you for crossing.” Viktor might have said, ‘We might have pushed you too hard,’ but he knew Kassy could take the pity as an insult.

Once this squad was ready, they'd make their way outside to rejoin the others and finally get the hell out of this swamp.

---

Outside…

The young heroes began to turn the tide inside and outside of the facility, yet it seemed that there was no ending to the Kobra agents outside. Unlike inside the base, the agents outside made use of every weapon they had at their disposal. With some of their metas taken down, the troops strangely became even more aggressive as they fired their sound emitters with no disregard for crossfire.

The woman agent making strange motions with her hand to control her green blob grinned bigger and bigger before the blob just only grazed Cora’s backside. In an instant, she was easily pulled into the translucent green blob that was oddly quite comfortable inside. The air was breathable best of all, cool. The issue for Cora would be her ability to escape its slightly elastic yet impenetrable walls.

“Checkmate!” With her prey caught, the woman had one hand raised toward Vincent and the other toward the sky where Cora was in her slowly descending green bubble. “HEY! HEY! STOP! Make another fucking move and she FUCKING DEAD! I am keeping this thing from crushing her to the size of a basketball! You hear me too, flower girl?! It's like a dead man's switch! Don’t test me!” Her threat caused Daphne to revert from her petal form and displayed her raise her hands.

“Talos… I won’t- No, we have to do something.” Daphne didn't want to give up so easily but the situation seemed dire. She felt at fault for not going after the meta more quickly. Every second they remained still, kept Cora safe. At the same time, those same passing seconds made the two more and more exposed to the many barrels aimed their way. “Let her go and we're gone!” The team had secured the objective so all they needed to do was leave. “We won't return. We'll leave and we won’t come back.” A hint of panic was carried in her tone as she looked back and forth between Cora floating in the bubble and the woman holding her.

Meanwhile, Zach had finished delivering a clean punch to the mug of the meta he had wrapped up in ethereal vines. Though the guy endured the punch, there was little he could do about the vines at the moment. He knew he should have swapped opponents and faced Vincent instead.

“How about your shoes?!” He asked as a reply to Zach’s previous statement. Pink foam fired from several directions his Zach’s lower body, hardening and encasing him by the second. “Just give up Zatara. You're better off being a social media sensation. That's your stage. Here, not so much.” Though he hadn't hit Zach again, a wave of doubt and demoralization washed over the magician yet again. He could fight but what could he do as he was being immobilized?