FunnyGuy

Young Justice

Fight or Flight

The Team

The mission had concluded but the feelings of defeat remained with the members of the Team who were quieter than usual aboard the team jet. The jet was set to autopilot, returning to HQ, allowing Viktor to sink into his thoughts on what he could have done to prevent the loss of KJ. Arms crossed and scowling, Viktor appeared to have regressed into the same person he was after their first mission. Contrary to his stillness, activity stirred behind him as well as other means of coping…

Stabilize Cora. Make sure her head and neck are secure and stable. Hook up blood pressure and oxygen meters. Tuck in. Don't think about Kila. Assist Daphne, if needed, with bathing, washing hair. Bag gasoline-soaked clothing and put it in a secure container. Offer tea or a sandwich. Don't think about Ja.

Daphne appreciated Kassy’s help with the washing and detangling of her hair. It gave them both something to concentrate on. It was better to keep their hands busy so their minds wouldn’t wander. They worked quietly until Daphne was refreshed. She sat in one of the chairs facing Cora’s direction, most of her body disappearing into an oversized black hoodie with her hair brushed back.

Cora was still out cold, and she looked like shit. Under her gear, her skin smoked as if she were a human chimney, and the earpiece she wore to communicate with the team was in a hundred different pieces, some of which had been embedded in her neck like shrapnel. She’d live, but it would suck for a bit.

A bit away from Cora sat Zach. Compared to Cora’s state, he appeared unscathed but he was not unaffected by what occurred.

Normally, Zach would have tried to cheer everyone up with some magic tricks, but even he was not in the mood for that. He whipped out his phone, and started typing out a text to Mateo.

Hey babe, you would not believe the day I had. I would kill to have you here right now. 💕💋

”Where we are
I dunno where we are
But it’ll be okay”
Pei hummed the lyrics quietly to herself. She was tending to Cora with Kass, using gel on Cora’s burns while Kass set up the equipment.

Vincent sat away from everyone else, or at least as much as he could in the confines of the jet, arms crossed and leg bouncing. He was angry at that one-eyed bastard for using such a cheap trick, sure, but he was also angry at himself. If he had just done a better job of keeping Daphne safe, then things would have been different. Would they, though? They’d have just used Cora, instead, he told himself. He let out a heavy sigh. I’m sick and tired of losing.

Pei raised her eyes, glancing over to Daphne. She wasn’t sure if her ice would help her with her gasoline problem. Probably not. She glanced up at Kass. “The first time I had to treat a burn victim,” Pei began. “I totally freaked out.” She rubbed some gel on Cora’s arm.

“Like, you think, ice goes on a burn, right? That’s what I thought. I used to treat my friends like that when I was younger. But, uh, it doesn’t work, though I didn’t know that at the time. Anyway they taught me that, and I knew all my first aid stuff, but when I was actually looking at some poor grandma with a burn on her arm I freaked out and went to go put snow on it anyway.” She said. “Romero pulled my arm away and gave me a smack upside the head. He’s funny.” Pei smiled lightly.

”So, I’m, uh, glad you got the gel, Kass.” Pei said. She wasn't the only one to break the silence.

It took Kassy several moments to respond, as if she were processing Pei's words slowly. "You know… I thought the same thing. Burns aren't exactly common where I come from. So it made logical sense-"

The first signs of life out of Cora were a nasty, dry, wheezing cough as she jerked up. Like Frankenstein's monster being electrocuted and twitching all over the place. Her head swiveled around this way and that way, thinking she was still in a swamp.

“What the fuuuck.”

Kassy gently held Cora from rolling off the bed. "Easy. Easy…"

“You’re finally awake,” Vincent said, though he didn’t look toward Cora. “Great. At least today wasn’t completely fucked.”

“Those two good back there?” Viktor asked sternly while slightly looking over his shoulder.

“I think Cora’s gonna be okay. You’re okay, Cora.” Pei answered and assuaged Cora, holding her shoulder. Viktor's shoulders dropped slightly, feeling some semblance of relief. Even then it was difficult to simply relax. No one had mentioned KJ since the exchange. Acknowledging his absence was a topic they aimed to avoid.

”Fuc-“ Cora’s whole throat and her lungs throbbed in one big muscle spasm. She coughed up bits of blood. ”Whahappenn,” she wheezed, trying to ask What happened?

However, the topic was unavoidable.

“...We got you out. You should probably get some rest,” Pei answered, not wanting to trouble the injured Cora with bad news. She moved to set a cool hand on her forehead.

Vincent, however, had no such qualms. “KJ’s been taken,” he simply said. “Guy with an orange and black mask showed up, took Daphne hostage, KJ went with them.” He glared up at the back of Viktor’s head and added, “Someone made a pretty big fucking group decision for the rest of us.”

Kassy let Cora go, as her hands had started to shake. "...someone did." Breathe. Breathe. Viktor remained silent despite yearning to reply.

"It's okay, rudo. Just breathe."

"And he was correct to do so."

Hearing this, Cora slipped backwards and fell flat, not making any attempts to sit upright.

She stared at the roof of the jet and let herself think for a moment. “…We- We’ll get… Himbacksoon.”

“That’s right,” Pei said, making sure Cora didn’t fall too hard. “Now just, no more talking. It’s horrible to listen to and you should save your strength,” Pei teased lightly.

“At least someone knows what they're talking about.” Vitkor barbed at Vincent. “We will see him returned to us…. It'll just take time and planning. That's why we're going home.”

“And how much time do you think he has?” Vincent barked. “Sure, they didn’t wanna hurt him in the swamp, but what if that changes now that they’ve got him? At the very least, I should be out there, tailing them! How else are we supposed to figure out where they went?”

“I’m not happy about this either. Zach replied, looking up from his phone. “But I don’t think you playing solo hero is going to do either of us any good…”

“And he's accomplished enough already.” Viktor unnecessarily added. “All you'd do is make matters worse. We don't need to lose another teammate due to your short-sightedness.”

Vincent slowly rose to his feet, his anger like a hot ball of iron sitting in his chest. “Go ahead, say it straight,” he growled. “Say it’s my fault because I wouldn’t just let them cart off a teammate like you did.”

“What else were we both supposed to do? Hm?” Viktor shook his head. “Pointing fingers won't change anything. I was merely showing you just that. That mission was a trap designed by a mercenary who keeps even our mentors on their toes. We didn't stand a chance. Kila, Daphne, Cora, you… someone wouldn't have made it back on this jet. I chose the option where that person isn't dead…” Viktor swiveled his seat around to face Vincent squarely, his eyebrows furrowed. “I hated resorting to doing that.”

“In case you didn’t notice, someone didn’t make it back!” Vincent fired back. “He might have been alive when we last saw him, but how do you know that didn’t change once they were out of sight? You trusted the enemy over what your own team could have done and now we may never see KJ again!”

"Vincent." Kassy's soft voice managed to cut through the loud argument like a sharp knife through bone. She had both hands pressed against her head.

The moment he heard Kassy’s voice, Vincent turned toward her and knew he screwed up.

“Kass...” Viktor faced her now, understanding what that tone of hers meant.

She held up a fist in a single, commanding motion that Viktor would know. A military single to stop. "Vincent. What would you have done? If we did not let KJ go, Daphne would have been killed. If we somehow managed to get her away, Cora was already injured and easily the next target. So, what's your plan, again?"

Vincent didn’t answer. He couldn’t. Despite everything he had said, he had been there. He knew he wouldn’t have been able to come up with a better plan and it went far beyond him not being an ideas guy. He looked down at the seat in front of him, the headrest of which, up until that moment, he had been gripping tightly. He felt the molten ball of anger vanish altogether and sat heavily in his seat.

”I’m sorry,” he simply said, not looking up. “All of you.”

"You're not the one who should be sorry. We got outclassed, again, and it shouldn't have been so easy. How did they get into our communications? How long have we been on the wrong trail? We received this from the League, were told that Kobra was present. By the people who are supposed to be better than us!" It wasn't louder, but her voice seemed to fill the space.

Pei made a quiet, displeased noise, but barely managed to keep her mouth shut.

“Oran- Orangeguy,” Cora rasped. “Planned?”

“Deathstroke,” Pei clarified for Cora. “And it seems that way. Metamorph wasn’t even supposed to be here, which is the stupid thing.” She said. “I don’t know if him being here was lucky or unlucky.” She thought aloud, putting her curled fist against her forehead.

She picked her head up sharply, her gaze darkening with every breath. "Luck doesn't matter when the winner is already set. We have been toys. Batted around like a dolphin with a dead catch. The League has to answer for this. They will answer us for their lack of judgment."

Pei’s mouth worked to the side. What was that supposed to mean? ”It’s not the League’s fault that Metamorph followed us by himself.” She said, trying to hide her defensiveness.

”And we coulda played the mission out better, too.” She added.

"Oh? Then enlighten me, Pei. How would you have saved all of our lives?"

“Hmm.” Viktor finally turned back to the controls but continued to listen. Both had made some valid points that had bothered him since the exchange.

“Let’s try to not beat the dead horse,” Vincent spoke up, having already learned his lesson from when he argued the same thing. ”Honestly, Kass made a pretty good point. I’m not gonna pretend to know more than I do, but if this Deathstroke guy is such a problem, why didn’t they know he’d be there?”

“Because-” Pei made a frustrated noise. ”Look, I don’t know what happened out there, but Daphne shouldn’t have been in a position to get snatched in the first place. We gotta work on our- on our awareness.” Pei said.

It stung each time her name was mentioned while the others were talking. She already felt guilty for getting captured and basically forcing everyone to serve up Kila on a silver plate just to keep her safe. Daphne pulled up her knees to her chest almost completely swallowed up by the hoodie. This wasn’t the first time she sat on the jet in this condition.

“And again, it’s not the League’s fault Metamorph showed up by himself. If he was so sure it was a trap, which he somehow was, he shoulda said somethin’. Instead, he- it’s just like the bank and just like the docks.” Pei vented as she started to wrap a cool bandage around Cora’s arm.

“You know actually Pei, you’re not being completely fair.” Daphne swallowed back her anxiety. She looked at Pei with a mixture of fear and determination. Not saying anything is a sign of compliance Daphne….
She remembered Black Canary’s words.

“Deathstroke captured me because he’s a master assassin. I pushed myself too hard by navigating the swamp and fighting all of the enemies outside. I couldn’t use my powers to escape.”

Pei didn’t meet Daphne’s gaze, focused on tending to Cora. ”Sounds like he captured you because of factors you can work on. We can all work on. He snagged you, dragged you away, covered you in gasoline, and moved to a great negotiating spot. If we had interrupted any of those steps, Deathstroke wouldn’t have had his hostage.” Pei said.

”So yeah, we coulda played that better. Of course we could’ve. But even as things went, if Metamorph-” She sighed and shut herself up.

Meanwhile, as Zach sat there and watched the rest of the group argue amongst themselves, something caught his attention. Something magical. “Guys, am I the only one that smells burning mana?” He didn’t expect anyone to answer. Following his instincts, led him to Kassy. Specifically, that bracelet. It was unraveling. “Uh… Kass… I don't know what's up, but your bracelet is overloaded with magical energy. You might wanna… watch that.

Daphne swiveled to Kassy, a worried look on her face. She finally got up from her seat and approached her teammate.

”Past doesn-“ COUGH. ”…Matter.”

“What did I say about talking?” Pei said, though the teasing was gone. ”And I wouldn’t exactly call any of this ‘the past’.”

Instead of talking, Cora just gave Pei an unamused You know what I meant look.

Pei worked her mouth to the side again, briefly meeting Cora’s eyes. “What? I’m serious. All of us can do better. Fuckin’-- example: I gave Metamorph a pass for that stunt at the bank, but I shouldn’t have. He gave me some crap about how ‘only he understands the nature of his struggle’ or whatever and I backed off.” She scoffed.

”Well he clearly doesn’t, because he turned on us at the docks right after. And if he had a little less faith in himself and a little more faith in the League, he would have brought one of them with him to ‘save us’ and we’d all be fine right now.” Pei said, practically blurting out her words at the end there.

Kassy squeezed her fists so hard her knuckles popped. "Do you think before you speak, Pei, or are you being a bitch on purpose? Did you blame the people you rescued for having to rescue them too?”

"He came to rescue us because we were in trouble. He came because he is a hero, and that's what we are supposed to do! What the fuck do you think this job is? It's not about your stupid puns or cutesy fucking slogans! It's about doing what is right, what should be done! Not because you can, but because you must. He came for us because he loves us.”

Pei was angry, her teeth grit and bared. Kass had such the wrong idea, Pei thought, that she didn’t even know where to begin. “I- you don’t- you think I don’t-?” She sputtered.

Viktor shook his head at Kassy’s comments. He didn't want to point fingers anymore and there was still so much he had not confirmed about the situation but he found himself agreeing with Pei.

“Kass. You may not like what she's saying but Pei isn't wrong. Kila had the right intentions but we can't ignore his lack of judgement in coming to aid us. Whether our foes wanted him or not, his presence there alone wouldn't have helped us. And because they wanted him, him being there played us right into their hands. He should have contacted the League.” Viktor spoke without turning around.

Pei looked to where Viktor was sitting, and she shook her head rapidly. “This isn’t about- it’s not- we all—” She wanted to say something about common ground and shared responsibility. Being a teamplayer. But instead she turned back to Kass and pointed at her, not able to let the accusation go unanswered. “I know what being a hero is about!”

It was impossible to tell, but Cora was rolling her eyes.

Kassy tossed her head, lips peeling back in a sneer. Her ears were ringing, every muscle in her body hurt, and her head felt ready to burst. The others may have been right, but all she could see right now was an opponent. "Oh, sure, suuuure. Please teach us, oh Incredible Iceburn. Maybe we all get childish things to yell before we attack our foes. I'll go first!"

Pei shot to her feet, her cheeks flushed dark blue. “Shut up!”

"Make me."

“Sit down!” Viktor ordered. “We're preparing to land… fasten your seatbelts too.”

Kassy's mouth worked silently, before she stormed towards her seat in the back and strapped in.

Pei stared at Kass, bewildered. “Tch,” Then she responded to Viktor’s order. She leaned down to pull a belt over Cora so she wouldn’t fall out and then shoved her own self back down into her seat, clasping the seatbelt over her lap. She crossed her arms and found a corner to stare at, tapping her foot.

The dashboard of the jet was flickering. Like a tv during a thunderstorm. All the little lights and diodes that shouldn’t have been blinking were blinking, as if someone had damaged the internals that were just fine five minutes ago.

Pei glanced at Cora briefly but said nothing. Just a flicker.

“Fuck… I can manage it. I will manage it.” Viktor grumbled to himself. “Pei, ensure Cora isn't having a seizure or something. I can still control the craft but I am not in the mood to test how bad she can make things.” Viktor began descending the jet despite the annoyance of the flickering lights.

Cora raised a shaky, jittery hand and gave a half-assed thumbs up.

“She’s fine,” Pei said tersely. Then she sighed, her expression softening as she looked at Cora. “You’re fine, right? She’s fine,” She called out again. “We’re countin’ on you not to kill us all, captain! No pressure!”

Daphne felt the knots in her stomach grow tighter. Even though she wasn’t the one arguing and raising her voice, it affected her like it was directed at her personally. She glanced worriedly at Kassy, Pei and Cora. Between the three of them Cora definitely looked the worst. The buckles of her seatbelt went limp, as the body they were supposed to hold dispersed into petals. Daphne reformed into a somewhat humanoid shape, floating above Cora. She placed her hands on either side of Cora’s head, compressing her calming scent to soothe her.

It was hard to really feel calm in Cora’s situation. Metamorph was gone, which sucked. Her friends were fighting, which sucked too. But she was also probably going to have to sit in a damn hospital bed for days, unable to stand up and walk, and she had aching burns everywhere. The only reason Cora’s leg wasn’t bouncing like a jackhammer was because she lacked the energy.

It helped that Daphne’s powers eased the pain. It was nice, relaxing even. Daphne was really cool like this.

Cora blinked. Slowly, like a cat. ”…Thanks.”

The jet landed shakier than usual but it safely came to a stop in front of the open hangar beside the HQ. Viktor swiveled his chair around from the controls to face the others.

“Flight’s over. Is the fight over too?”

“There’s no fight,” Pei unbuckled her belt, embarrassed.

Vincent said nothing as he stood up from his seat. Having been appropriately admonished by Kassy, he couldn’t bring himself to be angry at his teammates, anymore, yet he still felt the smouldering cinders of his anger deep within his chest. No, he was still angry. At Deathstroke. At the men he worked with, the ones who helped take KJ away.

At himself.

Vincent walked over to the jet’s exit and opened it. Once the stairs were lowered, he stepped out of the jet and made his way inside without a word.

Kassy made sure that Cora was safely strapped into a wheelchair. "Please take Cora inside. I need a moment."

”Ughhhhhhh.”

“Sure,” Pei said, taking the handles of the chair. Pei often found the best way to move on from an argument was to pretend they never happened. It’s not like she was actually angry at Kass, she just got mad for a second. Sticks and stones, right?

Zach sighed. He was relieved they didn’t have a magical explosion, but the mood was still tense. Vincent took off, Kassy was no doubt going to have a breakdown, Cora was hurt, and everyone was upset. It sucked, everything sucked right now. “Well that was fun. Just another day in the glamorous life of a superhero, right?” He quipped. “Look, I know this sucks, big time. But we’re not gonna fix anything by brooding and snapping at each other. Yeah, today was awful, but KJ’s counting on us. So, we’re gonna do what we always do, and figure shit out, and bring him home. Because if anyone can pull off a miracle it’s us.”
Zach twirled his hat in his hands, then placed it back on his head. “Now, can we do something before I start feeling like a motivational speaker? That is not my vibe.”
"Zach." Kassy's voice was unsteady as the jet emptied more and more. Tasks and arguments and rage had given her something besides the pain to focus on. But now that it was over, she could barely hold back the tears. "Can I ask for a favor?" She held up her braceleted wrist. "Magical duct tape? I feel it now, you're right. It's definitely weaker, and it hurts. The League will have enough to deal with without my problems."

Zach nodded. “Alright, I can reinforce it, but it won’t be a permanent fix. It’ll hold, but eventually you’re gonna need a replacement or something else…” He held his free hand over the bracelet, and closed his eyes to focus. “Pu siht hctap!” he chanted, and a faint purple glow surrounded the bracelet. The energy tightened and stabilized, smoothing out the frayed edges. “There we go. Magical duct tape, as requested.”

"...thank you. I… appreciate it." She managed a wobbly smile. "I'll be at the briefing. I just… need a second."

Viktor was in his way off the jet following Zach but stopped briefly.

“I recommend someplace with a view of the ocean. You won't find peace in here, Kass. We’ll talk later.”

Kassy could do nothing but nod in response. She didn't trust herself not to start sobbing at Viktor's kindness.

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

_{Mr. Deacon}

Time: Night of Sola 26th
Location: Summoning Chamber
Attire: None.
Interaction:
Mention:

---

Marek

Within a dimly candlelit chamber Alexander paced before his wheelchair-bound wife, his body free from any garments. The warm glow of the fire exposed dark symbols painted against his surprisingly toned physique. The echoes of the slow and soft patter of his bare footsteps defined the night emptiness of the location.

“My love, are you…” Lianna initiated in breaking the long silence between them but still found herself reluctant in questioning Alexander. His intentions in this moment were not what she desired. Lianna had wanted Alexander to have little interaction with magic, especially after the day she saved him from an early death. She was proof enough of the heavy consequences one could suffer from practicing the arcane. What worried Lianna just as much was the way it clung to you. One spell was never enough. Your first spell was never your last while you still drew breath.

“I am ready, my love. Just… nervous is all. Such a rare feeling.” Alexander admitted as he admired his seated wife with a smile. “But I can manage this.” He assured her and himself. Lianna bit her lower lip.

“You should remove it. The ring.” Her eyebrows furrowed with concern. She preferred he kept it worn as the small artifact kept Alexander as the same man he was before his change. The man he became without it, was a perfect agent for Marek. Cold and ruthless, lacking any semblance of a conscience. Lianna could barely tolerate him without the ring but she knew it made him uncannily strong if one could describe a lack of warmth in such a way.

Alexander knelt at her side, placing her hands in his.

“I don't have to remove it if I’m with you. I should-”

“You should!” She grasped his hand firmly as she pleaded. “If you face something without a heart, it will only seek to manipulate yours. Alexander, you need to be… You need to be what you are without the ring to commune with darkness. It's… it's the same as with the Black Rose. A good man cannot thrive amongst monsters.”

Silence followed Lianna’s words, making her unsure of how her husband received them. Her grip loosened as Alexander raised her hand to plant a tender kiss upon it.

“Keep it safe, my love. I won’t be long,” Alexander said before he removed the ring from his left hand and placed it in her grasp. And as if to say farewell for only a brief time, Alexander planted a second kiss upon her lips.

“Do what you must, my love.”

“For us, always… Always.” Alexander rose to his feet, his expression stoic with no trace of doubt. “Now…” Alexander stepped away from Lianna, walking until he was standing dead center in a white circle drawn on the chamber floor. Besides it lay a ceremonial knife decorated with an assortment of topaz crystals. Further ahead, perhaps only three paces at most, was another yet much larger circle on the floor. Unlike the one he now stood in, the circle had many drawn symbols and lit candles lining its perimeter. Mentally prepared, Alexander smirked.

“Let’s begin.” He whispered, his tone expressing his conviction. Shutting his eyes and clasping his hands with interlocked fingers before taking a seat on the ground cross-legged. He tensed slightly, feeling the cold floor against his bare skin causing goosebumps to creep across it. Taking a controlled breath, Alexander relaxed once more. Just as he practiced with Lianna, he spoke the incantation.

“Spiritus, adiuva me… veni in pactum… Tenebras te arcesso… familiarem te facio,” Alexander said softly and took his time to ensure his pronunciation was nothing but perfect.

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!” Lianna's voice repeated loudly from behind him. Her husband’s green magicae aura determined his lack of compatibility with summoning and evocation spells, so she would offer any assistance she could manage.

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum. Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio.” Alexander repeated with more fervor. The fire of the candles surrounding the large circle began to lightly flicker and dance to his words. Still, it was not enough.

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!”

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!”

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!”

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!” The flames flickered and whipped wildly now. It was no longer every word but every syllable of the incantation uttered that forced the fire to squirm.

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!”

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactum! Tenebras te arcesso, familiarem te facio!”

“Spiritus, adiuva me, veni in pactu-!” The room became so frigid so suddenly, Alexander stopped and opened his eyes from the instance. His shivering that had started to set in instantly ceased as his eyes caught sight of what was before him.

The candles that were once lit around the perimeter of the circle now had thin lines of smoke rising aimlessly. The other candles that remained with flame in the room barely made out the shapes of what now occupied the inside of the large circle. The small billows of smoke served to only blur the appearance of whatever Alexander had called.

Its form shifted and swayed with an unnatural flexibility in the darkness as it acclimated to the physical world. Alexander was unable to perceive the being’s face, yet he felt the moment it's eyes locked on to him. Alexander could feel a slight pressure weighing on body accompanied by the chilling cold of the room.

Just what had he brought into this world?

🗡 Roses and Daggers 🎕

Time: 11 a.m.
Location: Edin Theater
Interaction: Fritz and Anastasia
Mention: Caseo, Bolivia, Umbrella

One might imagine Lorenzo shaking with nervousness as he was meant to prepare poetry to perform in front of so many esteemed guests, including the royal family, yet Lorenzo maintained an odd level of coolness. Perhaps it was because he was in his element. Maybe he was drunk off his “medicine” or had finally gone mad from his own antics. However, the reason for his tempered disposition this late morning was more obvious once one looked his way. It wasn’t medicine and Lorenzo was definitely not a professional performer.

It was upon his shoulder, that the black-coated ferret made his perch. Kier had finally gotten a chance to get out to support his lord on this stage. Nathaniel had advised against it but Lorenzo refused to perform without his closest friend by his side.

“I think we’re going to blow the whole capital out of the water.” Lorenzo said quietly as he petted Kier who nuzzled against his neck. And though he treasured his friendship with Kier more than anyone else, Lorenzo still had room for others. In recent days, Lorenzo had spent his time gardening alongside Ariella Edwards and had made the likes of Cassius Damien a fun drinking pal. Not only that, but Lorenzo had managed to employ Olivia to help around the estate with the gang of animals he now had on his property. He didn’t mind taking care of Kier but the garden guard of a chicken was especially fierce from time to time and he couldn’t look Champion in the face without trying to follow the lameness in his eyes. If Kier’s presence hadn’t skyrocketed his confidence, his accomplishments over a couple of days surely put him in a great mental space.

It was none other than the sound of Fritz’s gentle voice that pulled Lorenzo’s attention away from Kier, finding the Varian count conversing with Princess Anastasia. His eyebrows raised in surprise, discovering Fritz was revealing himself to be quite the pep talker. However, his surprise was quickly replaced by excitement, as the opportunity to spread his peacock feathers was right here in front of him. Impressing none other than the princess of Sorian would be quite a feat and a good warm-up for flexing his confidence.

“Of course the acoustics are perfect, Count Fritz.” Lorenzo piped up as he approached the two. “Everyone is expecting me to deliver after all… and I intend to deliver. Oh!” He pretended that he had just noticed Anastasia. “And if it isn’t the one and only, Princess Anastasia! You’re going to perform today? How splendid! If I had known, I-I would have placed myself in the front row! What a treasure that would be.”

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 Nymph 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.