Vox Angelis

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

@Crusader Lord

Seeing you have a keen interest in reading our RP, allow me to save you a headache of searching through the pages if you want to update yourself with the current events.

Start reading from this post. That GM update post is the actual start of this arc.

You wouldn't be quite wrong about Chris and Siena being a ship, but you'd have to dig further into the RP to know more about the relationships between the characters. WishEater is heavily based on collaborative posts and weeks dedicated to character interaction have a tremendous amount of it.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟝

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“There is someone. Not ours.”

Questions once more began to quickly run inside Angélique’s mind as she heard the update on their situation, to occupy her head away from the pain, and provide what little means to fight against the pain and the black veil settling into her sight. Hopeful thoughts were wondering if those unknown folks were her classmates coming to rescue her. Everyone had dealt with Rogues and much more gigantic monster before, surely they would be alright against these criminals?

Angel was shaken off from her hopeful thoughts when she was tossed aside by the shadowy creature. Her vision flashed with pain and another muted agonizing gasp was released from her mouth as Angel’s brutal landing on the rocky beach did no good onto her mangled arms and sawed-off legs. But that was nothing compared to what was coming next.

Just as she was spitting a mouthful of sand, the crippled Voice Mage heard the conversation that would strike fear into the deepest parts of her soul. She looked as the psychopath surgeon approached. Trembling, Angel’s body tried squirming uselessly away, her head shaking negatively from side to side while her lips formed muted words, pleading.

No more…

But she was ignored, as always. With teary eyes, her legs were being sawed-off once more, but this going up to her hip. This time, she felt it: the horrible sensation of the saw’s teeth plunging into her skin and eating away at her flesh, her muscles, her nerves and even through the bone. The pain was so overwhelming, Angélique was just about to black when suddenly, another jolt of pain came from her back and then everything faded away.

Did she died? Her eyes were open, she could still see the beach’s sand and rocks just beneath her head, but she felt nothing. There was this throbbing aching in her head that she had felt when she woke up, but the pain, while faint, seemed to have vanished from her body. The ex-rockstar wasn’t sure if she should be relieved to finally feel no pain, or if she should be alarmed of her current state of being. At first, she wasn’t even aware her arms were soon to join her legs into the discarded pile.

Enough…

She’d soon find out however that she was well alive, and the brutal surgeon woman named “Thi” wasn’t even halfway done with her yet. With horror etched into her sand-ridden face, Angélique witnessed her whole body being butchered. Even if she felt nothing, she definitively “felt” that hand working inside her body and removing whatever was needed. From gasps of discomfort to agonizing sighs, Angélique went through all the noises a muted person with someone playing with their organs could make.

She was literally opened and gutted like an animal. Even her hair, that she had never cut once in her life and had a certain pride in was discarded into the pile of what had been deemed “unnecessary” entrails.

Casting one last look at her surroundings, the whole ordeal had left such a mess on the beach. Her “corpse” was so bloody, a sickening (had she a stomach left) pile of discarded organs, her limbs tossed aside like vulgar broken Barbie pieces and a mixture of bloody flesh mounds, wet sand and black hair was left somewhere on the ground as well.

There was no dignity left in this naked corpse-like torso of Angélique Lachance. Barely a hint of feeling human. She felt like an animal that had went through the slaughterhouse. No, it was worse than that. At least animals had the decency of dying while being butchered up. Angel had been kept alive for an obscure reason that her brain had now stopped thinking about.

She was less than an animal.

Pitiful…

She was a Subnatural.

Trash…

Her world really had become darker.

Welcome to the real world.

(Gross)ery list:

Two legs halves (no, that doesn't make a whole leg)
Two bent arms decorated with metal bracers and rings on each finger
A large intestine
A stomach
A kidney
Two breasts
Lots of body fat
Enough black hair to make a large wig
Torn articles of rocker fashion clothing
Accessories (necklace, rings, bracers, bracelets, belly piercing)
A smartphone
Zoe's knife

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟚𝟘

---

It hurts.

Her world was pain.

With every movement, it felt as if lightning bolts crossed her vision. Each movement of her legs, her arms and her neck caused horrible suffering and an ever-increasing obscure blanketing her sight. A change of direction, her arms swung abruptly to one side, another jolt of pain flaring from her elbows making its way to her throat in a muted groan, which caused even more pain to her freshy torn and stitched throat. More than once, Angel wanted to bring a hand to her neck and rub and scratch at the aching there, but she couldn’t.

At that moment, there wasn’t any second this pitiful ragdoll swung over the giant shadow creature wouldn’t feel pain. Her glassy eyes stared blankly at her unmoving arms. No matter how much she tried, she could not move a single finger. It pained her doing so as well. Angel had given up on trying to move her limbs, as it only provoked more suffering and threatened her already-fading consciousness to black out entirely.

How did things come to be this way? What did they even want from her? Why did they do all this to her? Why her? Those were questions among many that Angélique kept asking herself internally. Questions to take her mind away from the pain, as little good as it did to her. But the agonizing young woman was left unsatisfied with her shortcomings, and damning her lack of means to communicate.

Oh, the Irony. Angel had cursed herself so much for having this deadly voice of hers. A voice that was meant to kill or bring pain. So much at times she wished she would be mute and stop hurting others. A very contrast view of her situation compared to before when she was grateful to have such a voice that captivated the hearts of thousands.

But right now, just how much she longed she still had a voice. Even if it had been for a few missed, the raven-haired Aberration already missed that voice. To call out the terrible power she had begun to loathe. To protect herself. To call out for the others to help her.

As much as she had tried, she could feel that familiar warmth of her magic working her throat, but it soon grew to be cold as nothing came out. Not only her screams, but deep inside she could feel that even her voice projections couldn’t reach for the others, or the surrounding area. She was effectively speechless, a powerless Mage. Just how fucking good her power as an Aberration was without a voice?

As much as she missed her voice, Angélique also began cursing her powers. So weak and so pathetic, again. Was it her fate as a Mage to be held helpless and useless? What if she had Callan or Sander’s strength? What if she was as powerful as Hazel or Zoe? Would she be like this right now?

Up until now, Angel was squirming, either in pain or in attempts to get off from the giant’s shoulders. But with increasing fatigue and weakness, her adrenaline had somewhat settled down after she realized she could do nothing. As minutes went by, the aching and the haze of her hangover were slowly replaced by more pain and a dreadful damp cold washing over her body.

So cold. She could feel it now. The cold October rain falling mercilessly onto her mangled body. Her clothes were drenched, her skin was dripping wet with cold droplets. It felt like ice. Her still body began quivering slightly in response to that heat loss. Was it because she had lost a lot of blood? Or was it because she was dying? So many questions to distract her mind from all this pain.

It hurts.

So much suffering.

How she wished she could just fade out already.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

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𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ~𝟘𝟝𝟘𝟘

---

After what felt like a while, Angélique slowly returned to consciousness. A pained groan escaping her lips signaled she was just about waking up, her mind struggling to shake off the fog veiling her senses. Her brain had most difficulty registering everything happening around her. Her vision was blurry, but she could feel the slight rocking of her body in motion.

What happened tonight? She could barely remember having spent the night drinking bottles after bottles of wine while staring at the ocean from the clifftops, before she blacked out. This sure was the worst hangover she ever felt in her life. Her whole body felt numb and sore. Her head felt as if it was in the clouds, a strange dizziness overtaking her. A throbbing ache in her head. A sensation that was even worse than that time she had inhaled the fumes of her bandmates’ smoking weed.

She didn’t know what was happening beyond being moved. And there was something that felt wrong. A dull aching in her lower body. She felt numb all over her body, but there was something missing, a sensation that should’ve been there.

Eventually, after a few minutes of her mind trying to puzzle itself back together, the raven-haired Aberration’s sight slowly began to clear and distinguish the shapes around her. It was still night, or at least early morning, for the darkness of the night hasn’t lifted yet, but the faint glimmer of sunlight over the oceanic horizons and the faint glow of red creeping up in the sky heralded the coming of a new day.

There were a few figures standing all around her, and she could now distinguish the rocking of her body up and down and wildly swinging around as she was being carried carelessly by a huge black creature. Was that Emma’s Determination? Had she found Angel and decided to bring her back to the estate? But then, why not use the car?

The more Angélique started questioning herself, the more her brain began to register every little detail. And with that, the strange and wrong sensations washing over her body. The feeling of trying to move her legs for balance to counter the momentum of swinging so wildly, to little avail because despite willing to move her lower limbs, nothing happened.

Because they weren’t there anymore.

W-what?

The first thing that her eyes saw very clearly was the missing part of her legs, down from her knees. Where her legs had been, there were stumps of flesh protruding from her torn black jeans.

How? When? Why?

Even as she willed her legs to move. As much as she desperately wished it wasn’t true, nothing happened. She could feel herself moving her limbs, but her lower body didn’t obey that command, or rather the physical sensation of her moving feet wasn’t there.

A creeping dread began to settle in on Angélique’s now-clearer mind. Her head moved around, catching sight of what was happening. She was being carried away indeed.

But that wasn’t Determination at all.

And those weren’t her classmates. Nameless faces. Strangers.

Then a flash of insight. She had slept earlier, in all of her drunken stupor. She had woken up to a sharp pain in her knees, then the cold sensation grabbing her neck just before blacking out.

“W-what’s happening?...” Angélique called out faintly, her magical voice reaching out to all of those strangers.

You are being held powerless… again...

“W-who are you?...” Her voice grew louder, more alarmed.

People wishing you harm, just like the whole world out there.

“M-my legs… how!?” the words were almost shouted directly in their ears.

You are going to be butchered up then killed!

The panic mixed with the Stigma pounding at her mind in light of this development gripped the Voice Mage’s heart. Instinctively, she trashed around to free herself from the creature holding her, trying in vain to kick the thing.

And she screamed at the top of her lungs a powerful "WHY", toned with a mixture of grief and anger. A desperate shriek that few had compared before to a banshee’s wail, but nowadays was referred to as the worst siren screech one would have the displeasure of hearing. The wrathful brain-pounding yell resonated all around her, with the force of a slight shove hitting those standing next to the screaming Aberration.

Angélique had no intention to stop, her mind stricken with the thoughts that she has just lost an important part of herself. The voices in her head reminding her that she was now powerless without legs and taunting her wih ill omens.

The heavy pulse of mental deadlock and force from the Aberration's screech knocked over several of the Amigos around her, including the group's apparent leader, who clutched his head with a sharp cry. Thi, however, remained mostly unfazed, staggering only slightly from the effects of the magic as her veins raced purple and black, her body modifications withstanding the force of the scream. Where her human muscles could not bear the brunt of the force, the mechanized joints and reinforced bones moved steadily forward according to signals from her brain, ignoring the tearing pain of flesh still pummeled by a the sonic force.

A metallic claw pushed out from the nail bed of her left index finger, tearing off the normal nail in the process. With a quick slice, she opened the girl's throat, ending the vocal menace as suddenly as it had begun. Inhuman dexterous fingers curved into more joints than possible, skin tearing to make way for the needle-thin spikes that pushed out from beneath muscle and bone.

Surgery was a quick process, the purple and black lines winding supernatural effects to every incision and stitch until the woman had cleanly removed the true vocal words, leaving behind bloody, but effective stitches across the horizontal of Angel's throat. She examined the carefully separated folds of flesh in her hands, then knelt down to her carrying case, tucking the bloody flesh into a small, zip-sealed plastic bag produced from the pocket of her coat before shoving everything into the briefcase.

Completely powerless. As a Regular, Angélique had felt it once in her life, which had prompted her into training physically to properly defend herself. Now, as a Subnatural, that dreadful feeling had crept in once again as her screamed stopped, replaced by a choked gurgle under the homicidal surgeon’s proceedings.

The Voice Mage’s eyes grew wide with horror as the flesh from her throat was torn open. The pain, it was unbearable. Despite the numbness that had overtaken her body and the mild hangover, the piercing of these claws tearing and cutting at her flesh and nerves went way beyond this veil of insensitivity. There probably never was a time Angel could remember having felt so much pain. It was alarming. It hurted so much. So much that her eyes began watering, piling up onto the pain of having lost her legs.

The young woman's screaming tantrum was replaced by a choked wheeze. As much as she pushed air out from her lungs in an attempt to shout, without vocal chords now there was no modulation for that outtake of air. Only a muted sigh. Now this was what true despair felt like. No voice to call out for help. No legs to run for her life or at least stand her ground. No magic to protect herself or the others. She was just lying there, a bloodied mess surrounded by people just as murderous as real monsters. And it terrified the young black-haired woman. Terribly so.

Was it a spiteful look of hatred that was reflected in her teary eyes, or wrathful pain? For as physically numb as she was, Angélique could feel the searing pain throughout her body, mainly at her throat and the stumps she had for legs. Her lips desperately formed words of sheer hatred, but it all came out simply as an unspoken breath out. One hand had reached out for her throat, clawing at the stitches holding her throat together as if she could alleviate the pain like scratching an itching rash.

Powerless. Useless. Helpless.

Despite all of the odds, the dread and her inabilities, the Aberration singer did not give up her assault. Whether it was because of sheer determination, fearful desperation or simply because she was driven mad by unprecedented anger, Angélique arms flailed around. Her arms were the only things functional at this point, and she’ll be damned if she wouldn’t use them to at least catch someone's face in her mindless numb frenzy. It hurt so much. She'll make them pay.

Recovered from the aftereffects of the scream, the dark-skinned man floated his orb above a palm again, waiting for it to beat like a heart before a surge of unseen power gripped at Angel's arms, twisting them round until the elbows snapped first. There had been no orders against maiming her, after all, and for failing to capture the main target, he was determined at least to procure this one. If they could please this particular client, even the Father would not mind the primary objective's failure.

Terrible pain jolted once more through her numb body as soon as Angel could feel the elbows snap from a an unseen force. Mouth agape, she let out another muted scream escape her throat while her arms stopped and fell motionlessly, dangling useless by her sides.

She really was done for, that much Angel realized. No legs, arms useless, no voice, no power. She had nowhere to go. She was at their mercy. The pain. So much pain. She felt like she was just about to blackout from the sheer intensity of it. Somehow, she didn’t.

Her body began quivering violently. Fear was paralyzing her. She couldn’t do anything anymore. All she could wish was for them to stop maiming her and kill her already. The raven-haired Mage hoped her friends would come and save her from this torment. But she couldn’t have them suffer the same as she was now.

Resigned, Angélique remained motionless, still trembling and tears running down her cheeks as she silently wheezed in pain and sobs.

"What if they're at the house--hey, Nate!" the tattooed girl snarled, speech jagged like she knew no other way to speak. Her dark curls were stiff and oily from days without bathing and too many attempts to hairspray it back into place, but right now the wild look in her eyes didn't show an inkling of the person beneath--just something rabid.

"Nate," the dark-skinned telekinetic who had broken Angel's arms looked his ally over, distaste sour on his tongue and face as he wrinkled his nose in response. "Do what you want, Isabelle. Just get out of my sight."

"Hah!" And with a rapturous cry she was off, racing towards the direction of the mansion while the rest of the group continued southward, towards the town's edge.

"I'm going!" a shorter boy followed in her clamor, but it only took him a single step to catch up to her, like distance didn't exist for him. He caught her by the elbow, blue-streaked hair unbefitting for the serious look on his face, but it was Isabelle who had dyed it for him. If there was cameraderie to be found in small things, he supposed that was it. Another step jumped them away, the distance increasing between the two and the group left behind.

The molten-eyed blond looked on, exasperation in his expression. After exchanging a brief, apologetic look with Nate he left too, calling after the wild-haired pair to wait up.

Their leader watched in silence, brows furrowed like he had something to say, but ultimately withheld comment. Once the three had disappeared from view, he turned away, nodding towards the shadow creature to continue following them to the town pier.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

𝓣𝓱𝓲𝓻𝓭 𝓦𝓮𝓮𝓴: 𝓡𝓮𝓼𝓸𝓵𝓿𝓮𝓭 𝓽𝓸 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓰𝓮

Chapter IX: Loss of Control

Angélique | Marcus

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𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟙𝟟𝟘𝟘

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_{Collab with @Chasers115}

A few weeks, and he'd still not been in the garage to check out the 'beautiful cars' he'd been hearing about from eavsdropping and some of the staff who'd shown him around. Hell, he'd not even seen the rest of the island save for the beaches he wandered and the forest he got shot in that one time. There was apparently a whole town around, but he was reluctant to explore. It seemed like that last two towns they'd been in hadn't exactly been 'friendly', and after what happened during the DC evacuation, he didn't trust himself to put up with more angry civilians.

Didn't want to accidentally tarnish that sparkling reputation that Time Scar had developed.

Even if he wasn't going into town, it wouldn't hurt to at least admire the cars. Get a feel for what kind of funds Zhang was working with. The place was big, the area was nice; if the cars were beautiful too, he'd start wondering if it was government money or if Zhang had a secret previous life that nobody knew about.

And boy were they. He could certainly see what all the fuss was about. Fairly decent looking automobiles, and Marcus couldn't help but let out a low whistle upons seeing them all lined up. Fastidiously taken care of too - apparently the maids really put in the elbow grease around these things.

It hadn’t been too long since Angel came back from yet another trip at the beach with one of the cars. She had come back earlier today. To make up for the extended evening spent here, the raven-haired driver had requested the estate’s personnel to allow her to clean the cars. She was bored and took pleasure in rubbing off the dust and sand off the fine vehicles. It brought her back to those weekends when she’d take her sweet time making sure her own car was thoroughly cleaned, sparkling and well-maintained. Her car had been a symbol of freedom, and it had served her well in travelling from one place to another as a musician. Those days were long gone, but they remained good memories, and cleaning those Hellcats right now did bring back some good thoughts.

Having come back from the beach, and thinking she might as well not soak her casualwear wet from washing down the cars, Angélique still was wearing the same bikini she had been wearing at the beach party while working on those beauties. At first she did not notice Marcus entering the garage, as she was kneeling behind one of the cars and applying the finishing touches on the rims. It was when she heard a familiar whistle that she popped out from her hiding place, surprised to see Marcus standing there and admiring the cars.

“Hey there, what’s up?”

"GAH!" Marcus yelled in surprise, shrinking into a slightly defensive position when something literally jumped up from behind one of the cars. However it was only Angel, and he allowed himself to relax and bring his breathing back down to a normal level. "Jesus, Angel. Between your wierd little voice thing you keep doing and this, you're going to end my life before any of DC's creatures get the chance."

He tried his best to avoid looking his bikini-clad classmate too hard; he certainly didn't need to embarass himself any more than he had at the beach party in that regard. He focused more on the cars he'd been previously admiring, answering Angel's question with a soft shrug. "Just looking around, haven't gotten the chance to check out these puppies, and I was in the area."

A slight look of confusion caused him to furrow his brow, and he looked over to Angel. "Wait. What are you doing here?"

“Sorry~” Angel teased an innocent grin in reaction to Marcus’ surprise. He really was easy to scare, wasn’t he?

“I was washing the cars." the Aberration explained as she lifted the bucket of water from her side of the car to eye level. “I’d say they don’t wash themselves, but the maids usually are doing that when I come back. I was just bored and figured I might as well do it myself.”

The young woman paused, bringing the bucket back to the ground with the wet cloth and grease. “You interested in cars, Marcs?”

"You know the maids and stuff probably get paid to do that kind of stuff, right? But hell, I'm not one to tell you what to do with your free time." Marcus said, settling into a easy grin and leaning off to the side of the cars.

"I was never a huge fan of them, but Ma- er...my sister showed an interest. She always talked about getting something sleek and fast, and all the different things she named off always went straight over my head. But I can appreciate beauty when I see it at least, I'm not a blind man."

“These sure are quite the beauties, heh? My grandfather has an old Dodge Challenger in his garage. He’s big on muscles cars. While I do like them too, I prefer something fancier, like sedans and sports cars. I used to drive my very own Aston Martin. I think your sis would’ve loved it.” Angélique seemed lost in thoughts as she told about fond memories of the life she used to have before USARILN. It did bring her a sense of nostalgia as she thought of her grandparents and her previous days of freedom. Thinking about it sure brought a burdening feeling on her shoulders.

But she won’t let herself be defeated by those grim reminders. “Want to catch a ride and see what these can do on the road?”

"I bet she would..." Marcus said, lost in his own train of thought. Max still hadn't texted him back, and while he kept telling himself it was just the poor reception...it had been a week or two, and he was starting to worry a little. A car trip would certainly help to clear his mind, and he certainly wasn't doing anything else for the day.

"I've got no plans; so yeah! You better be the one volunteering to drive though, because I am not risking Zhang's wrath if I accidentally dent one."

“Cool! Hop on in then!“ Angel enthusiastically hopped over the shelf holding the keys she left on earlier and went to take place onto the driver’s seat, buckling her seatbelt and starting the engine.

Marcus gave Angel another confused look. "Wait. Now? Are you not going to..." he started, leaving the thought hanging for only a brief moment before he moved to the other side of the car. It wasn't his seats, and Angel apparently didn't care, so there was no reason for him to. Although, that line of thinking gave him flashbacks to interacting with Hazel.

He slid into the passeger's seat, slamming the door and clicking his seatbelt into place, before rolling the window down slightly and giving Angel an excited look. "Alright rockstar, let's see what you can do."

The sound of squealing tires indicated their exit from the garage.

---

"I'm telling you, I've got the money back at USARILN. Twenty dollars to make Zoe's crotch flirt with Lawrence using your wierd voice thingy." Marcus said, laughing at the visual image. Perhaps that would break Lawrence's stoic facade. Or get Angel killed in the process. Twenty dollars was twenty dollars though.

The duo were travelling nicely down one of the island's larger coastline roads, the few number of other people on the road allowing them to maintain a fairly decent cruising speed. Marcus's hair was slightly breezed back from when he'd stuck his head out the window like an excited dog, and there was still a slight smear on his face from where he'd caught a bug at highway speeds.

“Oh my fucking god…” Angélique groaned but still laughed at the absurdity of the situation.

The things that Marcus could come up with once she told him about her new voice projection ability. When Angel spoke about efficiency and plans, Marcus just had been throwing pranks and jokes ideas about its use. They totally had different views of how to do things, but she welcomed the humor in all this. It certainly was better than thinking about all they’ve been through.

“Jeez. I know I don’t have much money left… but damn… that’s pretty hardcore. I… don’t think I could manage to pull that without dying of embarrassment. How about next time someone gets fish from the cafeteria I try to convince them its ghost is haunting their meal?”

"Where's the excitement in that? I'm paying for a show here - I want to see if you can get away before she vaults the desk and tries to melt you. Lousy dead fish ain't gonna chase you across the campus while its zipper yells profanities." Marcus said, his grin growing even wider, if that were physically possible.

“Clearly you’re not the one who’s going to get what’s underneath their zippers melted.” Angel grinned but frowned slightly at the picture. She couldn’t even imagine what Zoe would do to her after having her pride be defiled in such a way. Really, the last thing that came into mind was to cross the proud Zoe.

After a moment of debating against each other about her lack of guts to actually pull out these kinds of jokes, the discussion winded down to a small moment of silence, both of them watching the coast-side scenery quickly passing by them.

“Say, Marcs. How did it get down to this? I mean, the whole situation with Christopher?”

Marcus's mood shifted slightly at the mention of Chris. He'd seen about all he needed to see of the kid at the beach party, and Angel's incessent nagging had really done nothing to improve his irritation in that situation.

There was more silence, before Marcus responded rather curtly. "You said you know about it. What exactly do I need to say that you probably don't already know? Dude's a prick. Picked a fight. It got...messier than it should have and I put a stop to it." There was a certain level of hesatation to his voice as he spoke. 'Messier' was certainly an understatement - he'd left a fairly sizable patch of red sand back on the beach. Plus, that had been a sensation he'd been trying to forget, and Chris had done nothing to help.

Marcus unconsciously pulled his sleeve a little further down, holding it in place with his hand. Something he was trying to forget indeed.

“I… just wanted to know both sides of the story. You both been good friends to me, even though I have to admit Chris’ brooding and attitude got me on my nerves a few times already.”

While Angel barely knew about Marcus, she had grown fond of his company, for all the good he was trying to inspire and his attempts of lightening up the mood when she was at her lowest. While Chris was the complete opposite, she saw in him someone who needed help and felt sort of like an elder sister trying to push her brother to stop being so moody. Angel had no obligations to like them both and try to get in-between their rivalry, but still…

“I just hate seeing my friends hurt each other like that. I understand we are not forced to like each other. Hell, you saw what’s going on between Ernest and I. But I can’t stand it when others try to hurt the others. We’re supposed to be classmates. No, teammates. We already have enough of dealing with monsters and Rogues and coming out alive from these battles. We shouldn’t have to watch out for killing each other on top of that.”

"Well, my side is that he's nothing but an irredemable prick." Marcus huffed angrily. "He punched me once when I called him out for spying on Siena, and he snuck up behind me and started a fight while I was hanging out on the beach. I know he's a classmate, but I'm certainly not going to play as somebody's punching bag."

"Besides, I'm not the trying to flambe his supposed teammates. You want to talk about avoiding killing eachother, you should talk to him about it." he added, turning from adressing Angel directly to looking out the window.

Angélique listened intently to Marcus’ explanation, her focus remaining on the road all the while. So it all started down from a situation with Siena? Shit, it was rooted deeper than what she actually thought. What were those two thinking anyway?

“Chris can be a dickhead, I know. Thing is, he was probably trying to get his bearings to talk to Siena. They have a slow thing going, you know? Well, not that it seems to be going anywhere now, but still.”

Angel paused, realizing that she might have spilled the beans onto something that she shouldn’t be talking about as she tried to explain the situation.

“But yeah, I actually already talked to him about it. I certainly don’t approve of what he did, and I hope he fucking got my point across his brain. At least he regrets about what he did, though he was pretty extreme about it.”

Marcus couldn't help but let out a scoff when Angel mentioned a 'slow thing going' between Chris and Siena. If it was going anywhere, he'd have to make sure that Siena knew exactly who she was dealing with. Even if they were still a little testy with their friendship, he certianly didn't want to see any more of the scaled boy that he had to.

"Id be a little worried if you did approve of that, Angel. Leave me thinking we were friends and everything." Marcus remarked dryly, giving a forced chuckle at the comment. "But I don't care if he buys me a fruit basket when we get back to campus. Trying to burn me alive..."

Pain. As the heat burned his flesh and his skin split open. An ebbing dullness where nerves burned and died. It hurt. It hurt so much.

"...it's not something I'm going to forgive."

“Nonono, I didn’t want to say it like that. I mean, I yelled at him or didn’t try to console him about what he did and-… goddamn shit you know what I what my point is.” Angel stammered in trying to rectify what she was saying. Hell, why were the words that came out of her mouth poorly reflected what she truly meant?

The Aberration grumbled for a few seconds at her communication problems before growing silent. Forgiveness, huh? Oddly enough, that reminded her exactly of her situation towards the others. Explain herself as much as she wanted, forgiveness was something she did not expect the others to give her for what happened in Washington.

“I… understand. It’s unforgivable. I just hope that… he won’t let whatever he’s fighting inside get the better of him again…”

"Relax Angel. I'm joking again. I do that frequently; you really gotta keep up." Marcus said, trying to relieve her fears by shooting her a devious grin. "I know you wouldn't be alright with Zip Zip Boi getting pushed around."

The last comment left Marcus to think about it. Maybe he'd be more forgiving if Chris was an abberration; maybe he'd give him a excuse or the benefit of the doubt. But Chris was an arbiter, and Marcus knew damn well that the only thing he'd be fighting was his own thoughts. They didn't have the angry voice in their head telling them to do bad things that DaT talked about.

If Chris had made the decision to try and kill him, he'd done it of his own free will.

Marcus simply hummed in annoyance in response. The kid wasn't fighting anything but himself, and Marcus was not going to let Chris nearly fry him more than once. But that wasn't something that Angel needed to hear.

Angel only sighed uncomfortably . She really needed to learn about reading the mood. Just how many times she fucked up with Brent alone and slowly misunderstanding the others as well.

Growing silent and clearly hesitant about something, Angélique barreled her way through her mental barrier to come up with a subject that she had talked about so much these past weeks but still felt very uneasy speaking of it.

“Marcus. I… I’m sorry for what happened at D.C. I made a poor decision, and you guys suffered for it. It wouldn’t have happened if I didn’t use my power to back them off.” There was another uncomfortable silence as Angel tried to come up with a proper apology. “I’m sorry to have tarnished your reputation and everything you stood for. We’re lucky whoever leaked those footage clearly wanted to benefit us, but still… what I did was unforgivable and I don’t deserve to be seen as a redeeming hero.”

"Angel, I'm going to stop you there." Marcus said, turning back to talk to her directly. "Pretty much all of us made some pretty bad decisions back there. I don't want to hear all the what if's and could have been's. We made mistakes. Most of us did. I was there. I know."

He sighed to himself, before continuing. "I just want to put the whole DC incident out of my head. If it's forgotten to the media, then I'm perfectly willing to not think about it again. I don't think any of us are heroes; we're just kids; but if that's what the people want to call us, deserve it or not, I don't exactly think we have a say in the matter."

Surprisingly enough, perhaps for the first time ever since she spoke of that matter to anyone, Angel did not prod the matter any further. Those words were the same pretty much everyone kept telling her. Maybe it was true that they all did a mistake, even if Angélique believed herself to be the spark that made the whole thing explodes. If Marcus wanted to put that event behind him no matter what happened or how people thought of them, then perhaps it was for the best. Less painful than keep dwelling about it.

She just hoped it wasn’t simply denial and push that wound into some forgotten depths to fester. The last thing she wanted to have is one of her friends slowly falling into an abyss.

“Yeah… but still… it was a mistake that took a lot of lives. I just can’t personally dismiss that moment behind me that easily. I keep making the same mistake, even if I try my damnest not to… just like that time before…”

"Let me ask you this: did you intend to hurt all those people at your concert? And were you aware that Siena would accidentally drop the cars she was trying to levitate? Did you push the people out of the way because you wanted them in place, or because you were trying to keep them out of harm's way?"

Angel’s hands crisped on the steering wheel of the car. It was less of the whole ‘did you do it intentionally’ and more of the ‘Siena accidentally dropped the cars’.

“She… accidentally dropped them?” Angel’s voice was faint, as if suddenly all the blame she took onto herself had multiplied itself.

Marcus took a moment to think over the situation, before speaking up again. "I mean...I assume as much. I highly doubt that she would have done that kind of thing on purpose. Her power relies on focus, and there was a lot of shit going on at the time."

Angel’s jaws clenched at the explanation. She had been ready to shoulder all the blame, but deep inside her heart there were doubts about the nature of those ‘mistakes’ Siena had told her. All this time, she thought the Arbiter may have had come to resolve herself to drop the cars on people to prevent them from attacking.

But the fallen rockstar’s perception of this reality shattered. She was now the one to blame for having these people killed underneath the cars. For a moment, she felt like screaming. But not in front of Marcus. She had to remain strong. She couldn’t let him see her mind falter like that.

Through clenched teeth and eyes hidden by her shades, it was difficult discerning whether Angel’s face shown she was either about to burst in anger or crying. “I-I… I lost control. I wanted them to stop… I shouted them to stop… but they didn’t listen… my mind wanted to tear them apart… but I didn’t want to.” Angel’s voice was shaking, her will slowly leaking all of the ugly truth behind what happened.

“I… it was too much to bear. The screaming voices… they wouldn’t stop. So I… I screamed. To protect everyone… and myself… to silence them…” a familiar warmth started falling down on her cheeks.

He'd said something wrong. He had no idea what it was, but he'd said something terribly wrong. The point he had been trying to make was spiraling out of his grasp very quickly.

"Hey..." Marcus started, his voice soft, much like it had been when she'd told him about her concert. "I can't claim to know what happened there. I can't claim to know what your stigma does to you, and a certainly can't claim to know the extent of what you can do. But I think I can at least claim that I know a little bit about you, and I don't think any of this was your fault."

"You did your best to protect us, and what happened...there were a lot of people in the wrog place at the wrong time. A cruel twist of fate. But none of it was your doing. It was all a terrible accident."

'And I wish there was some way I could stop all these accidents from happening to you.'

“E-Even if they’re accidents… it’s still my fault… all because I keep losing control… and I’m a complete dumbfuck. Siena must be blaming herself for killing these people. I… I can’t fucking forgive myself for having her go through that.”

Angel remained silent, sniffing as she wiped the wet trail from one of her cheeks, trying her best to focus on the road and remain steady. “I-It’s a hard thing to deal with. I’d rather have it… happen to me than any of you.”

"No, listen. You're missing the point. Accidents aren't anybody's fault. None of us could have predicted what would have happened at the Evac site, just like you couldn't have predicted what happened at the concert. Neither of those were you losing control."

He searched her face up and down, looking for his own words in her expression. "No matter how hard it is, it wasn't your fault. I believe that. And whatever you're going through; don't try to take the burden for yourself. Especially not when you've got friends around to make you feel better."

“I… I don’t know anymore… “ was all she could answer, uncertainty plagued her mind as she realized that her loss of control had way more impact on the others than she tried to make herself believe.

“I just want to stop hurting others… I should turn myself in and get collared like Hazel. I’m just a public danger as it goes on…”

"Hazel literally freaks out and starts attacking everything. You keep ending up on the wrong side of things. I think there's a little bit of a difference there." Marcus said, a slight hint of irritation creeping into his voice. "And I don't think you're the public menace you think you are. You're trying to help, and that's all that matters."

“Maybe Marcus… but that won’t help if I keep losing it.” Angel wiped her tears again, her voice becoming steadier as Marcus kept trying to convince her she wasn’t the monster she was making herself be.

“I need help. I have to find someone, or something, to hold me back. Someone with powers like Lawrence’s. Taze me when I’m about to go mad. Something that can hold my screams back until it becomes a necessity to use. I have other powers aside that goddamn Banshee scream. I should be used as support instead of offensive.”

"I really wish I could say I know what I'm about to start talking about, but I have literally no idea. But it seems to me like losing it is a problem that a lot of abes seem to have. Hell, you could say a few arbs have that problem too..."

With any luck, she'd think he was talking about Chris still, and not his own fumble at DC.

"...but you've got the stigma. Prove to yourself that you're bigger than it. Prove to yourself that you're not the monster you think you are. You don't need mind control powers or tazer bracelets to be a better person, you just need to prove that you're bigger than yourself."

“Just how I wish it could be true…” Angel muttered, clearly looking defeated. “I tried so hard. Everytime. I always thought I could be better than this damn curse. I’ve been working hard on improving myself ever since the concert. Even Brent believed in me. But each fucking time, I end up messing it up and losing myself. I… I fucking let Brent down. I’m a huge let-down. A disappointment. A failure…”

Marcus was contemplating the things Angel said. Sure she'd lost herself, but in all fairness...he'd done something he wasn't exactly happy with either. Something he could bring up to try and make Angel feel better, at least show that he could empathize with her, but that would require him being willing to face his own mistakes to help a classmate with theirs.

Damn it, he couldn't tell Angel to be a better person if he wasn't willing to face his faults and do the same.

"Alright. You lost yourself. You freaked out in the middle of a bad situation. Believe me when I say that out of all the people you could talk to, I understand your situation the most. I killed a man back there, Angel. I looked him in the eye and ended his life."

There was a simmering anger in Marcus's eyes as he spoke, which quickly started to boil down to silent resignation.

"So yeah. It happens to the best of us. You're not a monster any more than I am."

There was another long pause before Marcus spoke up again, trying to insert his trademarked-style leivety. "Besides, who needs Brent's approval? Zip zip boi believes in you; that should count for like, quadrupal.

“I just wish that it didn’t had to come down to this… Emma prob-… “ Angel cut herself short, remembering that Marcus didn’t wanted to hear about ‘what ifs and what could’ve been’. “I… I’m sorry you had to take this decision…”

While she would have loved to dispel this frown and laugh at Marcus’ comment, she was just barely able to have her face turn into a neutral expression, her gaze loosely focused on the road ahead.

“Thanks… but don’t put too much hope in me. All I’ve managed to do was stomping on those recently…”

"Don't be sorry...

I'm certainly not.

"Besides, I consider you one of my friends. Which means that you have to live with my hope and trust until the day one of us finally manages to get ourselves killed." There was a macabre humor to his statement; joking about a situation that could be right around the corner, and all of them knew it.

How else were you supposed to deal with a situation like that?

“Please don’t say that… I don’t want to live another loss ever again.”

That kind of humor really grew down on the musician Aberration. It really wasn’t a subject she’d want to get into any time soon. It was already tough dealing with the deaths she caused, there was no need to add up on the friends she lost on the battlefield.

---

The drive back to the mansion was dreadfully silent. Angélique had no mood to talk and Marcus clearly felt the situation quite inappropriate to crack jokes, or at least he tried in vain to make Angel smile and laugh. This talk clearly had brought a dark looming cloud above the two of them. But at the very least, they understood each other. It was simply that they did not have the heart for plaisantries after that talk.

Back inside the garage just as it began to be dark outside, Angel finally glanced at Marcus for the first time ever since they had been on the road. She was appologetic and sorrowful. "Marcus... I'm sorry if I ruined our ride with that talk. Sometimes I really should keep my mouth shut and keep these things to myself..."

"You keep apologizing when there's no need for it." Marcus said, breaking his own silence and scenery watching to turn to Angel and put his hand up to stop her talking. "You...may have harshed the mellow a little bit, but that's fine. These kind of things need to be said. Weights off our chests and everything."

He paused for a moment, raking through his brain - it sure seemed like he was about to repeat himself a lot.

"Remember what I said last time we had a heartfelt talk? 'You're a human being, something about making mistakes, gotta accept that it's gonna happen'. Plus, I seem to recall there being a part where I told you it's hard to move past these things without a little help. I learned that lesson a long time ago, and I'm trying my damnedest to show you that there are people who care about you. So don't think hiding these things is better for yourself or the people around you. It's better to let off some steam than to bottle it up and blow later."

His mind flicked back to a bathroom in Wisford.

'Can't stand the taste of your own medicine, can you?'

“I… I’m sorr- huh... You know, Canadians are their apologies.” Angel forced a chuckle out of her gloomy expression. The cold evening air sure started giving her the chills on her bikini-clad body. As an attempt to warm her body against the sudden chill, she crossed her arms right below her chest. October really had come that quickly.

“T-thanks… for being here for me. It means a lot to me.” there was always this sick sense of relief to know that despite what she did, someone was still looking out for her, no matter how she was undeserving. The least she could do to repay their kindness was to be there for them, an Angélique clearly thought that Marcus may have had some skeletons in his closet, especially with the recent killing. “Just… remember it works both way, okay? If you need to talk, I’ll always be there to listen.”

"Yeah, I know." Marcus said, giving his best pokerface to Angel's remark. Sometimes you just had to let things sit and ferment before you could talk about them. Or, as was his case, never talk about them, and hope that everything fades into the back of your mind; lost to the march of history.

"Now go inside and put some actual clothes on, you maniac." Marcus said, quickly changing the subject. "It's nearly winter, and you're gonna catch pnuemonia like that."

"Y-yeah... I'll do that." Angel agreed to that idea as she opened the door of the Dodge Charger and placed the keys onto the rack at the entrance. She turned back to Marcus, giving him a faint smile. "Thanks again, Marcus. You're... a good friend."

"I try. It's the least I can do to pull my weight around here, since my jokes only seem to be making people more depressed." Marcus said, with a nonchalant shrug.

He looked at Angel once, and her almost puppy looking pathetic attempt at a real smile, before he opened his arms and sighed. "Do you need another hug? Because you look like you need another hug."

Hugs really started to feel like a flame to her mothly self. A source of heat she liked to lost herself in. She was tentative at first, feeling a bit undeserving to be holding someone in her arms like that, but so far the therapeutical effects of those close-encounters had begun being something she thrived on.

"I... guess I can't say no if you are asking." Angélique said as she walked up to Marcus and embraced him softly. It did feel good, that warmth on her cold skin. The warmth of another human being there for her. A warmth she though was lost to her ever since that incident two months ago.

"Alright, getoffa me." Marcus said, trying not to make his uncomfortableness with the whole situation obvious to Angel, lest he ruin the feels-good moment they were having. She was barely wearing anything, and now she was wrapping herself around him; the poor boy was still human. All it took was one wrong move or one random passerby, and he'd be in deep shit.

"You're gonna give me pnuemonia if you already have it. That's how outbreaks start." Marcus joked.

Angel groaned, finding the embrace slightly too short for her liking. "Aww, don't worry about that. We northerners are good with dealing with that sort of thing. Anyways..." She back away from the Arbiter, seeming slightly happier than before. "I guess I should go wash the salt from seawater off me before returning to my room. So... I guess I'll see you around then?"

Angel stepped to the doorstep leadingto the mansion, stopping short and turning back to her trustworthy friend. "Good night, Marcus. Thank you."

Chapter X: Counselling

Angélique | Lawrence

---

𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟞, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟙𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Snagglepuss89}

After two weeks exploring the island, Angélique had pretty much seen everything that it had to offer, and the thrill of the escapade sort of faded after this long. Instead, the fallen rockstar would either spend today training with the hunting supplies provided next to the shooting range, training with her powers or improve on some personal skills.

Today was a day spent to meditate on herself, reflect about the thing she had done, try to rebuild some resolve to make things for the better and make her mind on some choices that were left open. But no matter how hard she tried, she couldn’t trust in herself, for she had yet to find a way to properly fight the urges that the Stigma pushed on her. She had to find alternatives to fight it,

For a moment, her mind drifted to Lawrence. The man had a reputation to actually calm Aberrations back in USARILN. Maybe he could help her too? But was he willing to, after what she had done? Wouldn’t that just give him more motivation to do so?

There was hesitation, even if Angel wanted to get every little help she could gather to solve her problems. She felt at odds with the idea of someone toying with her mind. Plus, it felt like she genuinely wanted to use him. She didn’t like that idea. Lawrence was a fellow classmate. She couldn’t just walk up to him and ask to use his powers on her out of the blue like that.

Maybe it was for the best to consult him about the matter, instead of jumping to conclusions? That seemed like a good idea. They had spoken to each other before. It’s not like they were complete strangers to each other. Actually get some news from him even. He had shut himself in recently. Angel wondered if he was alright and needed some time alone to think. Having experienced the taste of death twice might have shocked him.

Finally resolute, Angel decided that she’d go see the Arbiter not only as someone who needs help, but as a friend. She needed to have a talk with him. Maybe he’ll be able to guide her.

Her feet soon carried her in front of Lawrence’s doorstep, knocking on it thrice.

Lawrence, for his part, was trying to recover after the socially draining beach party the day before. He wasn't exactly used to hanging around so many people for such a long period, and recharging his batteries had won out against boredom so far that day. The smell of cigarette smoke hung lightly in the air, and an ash tray held the buds of a couple that had already been snuffed out. He still wasn't used to the practice, but the unpleasantness had decreased drastically over the days since picking up the habit.

Lizzy was nowhere to be found, having left to go wandering as she usually did. No doubt stalking the local establishments for scraps of food that had been thrown out, or baiting some sympathetic sucker into giving her a meal for free. As such, he had no warning of Angel's approach until she began knocking, ripping him out of rereading Meditations yet again. Somehow the book had lost a bit of its luster, and he'd been spending the better part of the day trying to find it again.

With a bit of a sigh he got up off the bed and tossed the book behind him, refastening the top buttons of his shirt as he walked over to the door, wondering at who his first visitor since arriving on the island was.

“Angel.”

He didn't sound surprised, and truthfully he wasn't. Perhaps if it had been Chris or one of the others he hadn't had much chance to interact with the Arbiter would have been taken at least a little more off guard, but Angel was social. More importantly, a talk between them was inevitable, given everything that had happened. May as well be today that it took place, and she probably felt the same way.

“Make yourself at home.”

With that he stepped out of the door way and nodded towards the inside of the room., which had been virtually untouched from how he'd first arrived, much the same as his room at USARILN East. Except, of course, from the bedsheets that had shown signs of his earlier reading, and bits of dog hair from Lizzy's inevitable shedding.

Angel would lie to herself if she’d believe she wasn’t the slightest anxious. Lawrence extremely calm and disciplined aura did had a somewhat oppressive effect on the young woman. It was as if she was a kid going to the dentist and knowing full well that the doctor would tell her she did no good. But she needed to speak with him. She required his help.

“Lawrence. How… are you?”

Doing as she instructed, Angel stepped inside the room hesitantly, looking around the neatly-maintained scenery before taking a seat on his bed. She was a bit uncomfortable sitting there in silence, especially after finally getting to speak with someone she should have been visiting earlier.

“I meant to visit your earlier… but lots of things happened, you can figure.”

With a dismissive wave he ignored her second comment entirely. She'd chosen her reasons for not visiting, whatever they were. Knowing why wouldn't change the past any, at this point he preferred to move on. The beach had shown him that he had at least been partly wrong about people not giving a shit. With an added shrug he made his way over to the couch and sprawled out on it, clearly intending to relax as much as possible through this meeting.

“I've been doing all right, trying to get out more since my recovery- except for today. Parties kind of wear me out.”

At the mention of 'recovery' Lawrence's hand found its way into his shirt as it so often did these days when talking about Wisford. He was in no real rush at the moment to bring up the inevitable, but at the same time small talk wasn't exactly in his nature either. Still, they could get to what he wanted to talk about later, for now...

“So what brings you here now then? I... don't think this is a social call considering we just saw each other at the beach.”

“Can’t a girl visit a classmate without backthoughts?” Angélique remarked, slightly offset by Lawrence’s dismissive nature. “No, you're right. Well… partly. As much as I’d like to ask about how you were doing for the past weeks and why we didn’t see much of you, I…”

She paused, taking a deep breath as to push away that ever-growing anxiety she felt ever since she mustered the courage to walk up to find Lawrence. “I need your help. Back at the institute, I heard you had quite the reputation for helping X’s like me. I… want to know what I should do, Lawrence. What are my options? You know what the hell I did back in Washington. I don’t want something like that to happen ever again.”

“Ah.”

So their goals were in line after all, at least mostly. It was a tough situation to be in though, sure he could use his powers to lessen the effect of her stigma, but it's not like he could do it for the entire team at all times. There were too many Aberrations for that who were far too spread out. He was fine being a last resort, but he didn't want to be a crutch. Still, what else could he tell her?

“There... aren't many options exactly Angel. I can help, sure, if you're close enough by me and I get enough warning throw my power onto you. It does help keep someone's stigma in check, or at least the... emotional effects from it. There's no real permanent solution or training that can be done to help it though. Maybe there's some sort of practice you can try with controlling it before we're deployed again, but that's a dangerous game to play no matter where you are.”

With a sigh he added;

“Most people just use my power to calm down enough that they can make it to Ground Zero without doing anything stupid.”

"I see..."

It was quite disheartening to know that even Lawrence did not have much answers to offer her. There really was no alternatives left for her?

"I know I can't always rely on you, or on others' powers for that matter. Still, I have to find alternatives. People willing to knock me out when I lose it, or tools to prevent me from using my powers when I go into those mindsets."

She was uncomfortable talking about these dire alternatives, but it needed to be considered. Before going through with those requests, she wanted a second advice.

"But will that help? Is it really the best way to keep me from losing control?"

There was a small pause as the Aberration thought about one thing he said, curiosity striking her.

"What do you mean, 'controlling it'?"

“Well...”

He began, trying to think of how to best word his thoughts.

“It's not like you can reduce how you feel when your stigma is acting up. However, you can still try to direct that sort of thing different. I'm an Arbiter- I can't ever speak with any certainty about Stigmas- but say...”

After another pause he continued;

“Take an insomniac. They never sleep, but still they go to work and function throughout the day. Some people might say 'Man, that guy is never tired no matter how long he's awake', but in reality that guy feels like shit constantly, just like someone else who doesn't sleep. The only difference is he's learned how to function in spite of it. So, maybe you can't reduce the effects of the stigma, but you can learn to redirect or control your actions while its flaring up- at least to the degree that what happened before never repeats itself. Otherwise...”

Again he paused, trying to word the next bits as gently as possible;

“I don't have anything against you Angel, but what do you think USARILN is going to do if one of their own students is killing as many people as who she's being sent out to stop? This isn't just about morals, but for your own sake we need to come up with something.”

Whether Lawrence knew about her sleeping habits or not, Angélique felt herself compelled from his example. Indeed, she had issues sleeping at night, considering all of her nightmares dissuaded her most times from turning in for the night. Still, she kept herself awake every day, continuing on with her training routine, doing activities nonetheless. And she truly felt like shit, her patience and mind eroded in time, but she fought on against the fatigue.

"I... I know. I actually had a confrontation with your roommate, Emma, about Hazel's loss of control. I told her we had to do something about it, else she'd just end up locked away or killed by the institute... Ironic, that I had a fight with her about it, but right now I'm the one I consider to be a public danger."

Another uneasy pause, realizing just how close her situation to Hazel was.

"It's not just about me. It's about the others too. I don't want you guys to continue suffering the consequences of my actions. So many of our team feel responsible because they either made bad decisions themselves in reaction to the mob, lost control too or didn't stop me. But let's face it Lawrence, if I hadn't attacked first, nobody would have had gone through this hell."

“I agree, ultimately you're the first line of defense against yourself. Anything the rest of us can do in reaction is secondary.”

He, of course, had no real knowledge of whatever confrontation she was talking about, even with Hazel's position as his roommate. From what he could tell by talking to the odd girl though, losing control was not something that was entirely productive to blame her for. There wasn't much use in bringing up a problem if you weren't prepared to try and contribute a solution to it.

“I know she has some sort of medication that she takes. Not that I advocate using drugs you know nothing about willy-nilly, but I wonder if there's a way USARILN can modify them as a sort of stop-gap measure against you guys losing control. Something you can take before that stigma makes you go completely nuts.”

It felt strangely comfortable, for Angel, to be talking of this issue with Lawrence, as she kept listening to his advices. He didn’t appear afraid to tackle on the main problems of the situation they had found themselves facing with in Washington. He wasn’t outright calling her out with insults and callous remarks; questioning her resolve; trying to shift the blame somewhere else; telling her it wasn’t entirely her fault; saying that everyone makes mistakes. Just a guy who listened to her problems, took them at face value, agreed to her views of the whole issue and proposed ways to deal with it. Honestly, it was probably the thing that Angélique needed the most right now to become a better person. No promises solely based on faith and ideals. No hopes and dreams. Simply hard truths and facts.

“Actually…” Angel’s hand unconsciously reached to her naked throat, her X-mark now exposed compared to previously where a leather collar used to hide it. “Hazel has this weird collar. I don’t know exactly what it does, but she only told me it was putting her to sleep when she was being too violent.”

The Aberration rubbed softly her neck, remembering the discussion she had with the odd girl about that collar, which ended in Hazel freeing Angel from the weight of her own mundane and yet symbolic choker.

“I don’t like the whole idea of being shackled like this but… if we’re stuck with a cuff that spies on our every move and tazes us whenever we get too rowdy, is it going to be worse wearing a collar that will be putting me to sleep whenever I lose control? That… actually sounds like a surefire way to prevent those kinds of situations from happening. Why aren’t all Aberrations outfitted with those in the first place?”

Lawrence simply shrugged in response. Even with an entire year more of USARILN East under his belt, he had little insight into some of the plans and decisions the insitution made.

“No clue, but I wouldn't exactly want to see everybody shackled with those kinds of things anyway. I mean, if you want to volunteer I won't try to stop you, but I was hoping for more of a... temporary solution when those kinds of problems pop up.”

Running a hand through his hair, Lawrence let out a sigh. There certainly wasn't an easy solution to keeping Aberrations under control, at least to the point where murdering civilians was an unlikely outcome to their stigmas flaring up. Then again, if there had been such a solution readily available it's like USARILN East would have thought of it long before he did.

“Somehow I don't think we're going to find a game changing solution while hanging out in my room.”

Angélique's head leaned to one side, a slight questionning look crossing her face as she listened to his last statement "Do you have something else in mind?"

She was there to consult him after all. She was curious to know if he had alternatives to suggest himself, instead of listening to what she had to propose.

With a shake of his head, he replied;

“Nah, and that's my point. I don't have anything in mind right now. Doesn't mean I've given up on trying to find some kind of solution though- Guess for now I'll just have to try my best to keep an eye on all of you while we're out in the field.”

For a slight moment, the black-haired Aberration looked disappointed, but her expression quickly returned to something more neutral. Maybe she was asking too much of him right now. He surely didn't have all the answers, and she sure didn't either. Up to them both to figure it out, it would seem.

"Yeah... about that..." Angel scratched her head, obviously uncomfortable with the subject, "I... I don't really like the idea of someone manipulating my... you know. But, if it's to make sure I stay in control, I'd appreciate it if you make sure I don't make stupid mistake. If it happens we're paired together and..."

Goddamnit, why was it so hard to just say it plainly, instead of taking detours?

"Lawrence," her face took on a more serious and pleading expression don't hesitate to use your powers on me, please? Whenever I'm losing it, or simply for precaution. I'm okay with it." Angélique said with forceful determination after gathering her wits.

“Yeah, loud and clear Angel. I don't exactly like screwing with peoples' minds either, but it doesn't look like that's something we can avoid right now. Especially considering everything that's already happened- and not just with you. Half of this team seems to have a bit more bloodlust than they can handle and keeping that in check is going to be one of my bigger priorities going forward.”

Folding his hands behind his head and sinking into the couch, Lawrence continued with;

“For now though we have the chance to unwind. When we get back to USARILN we can focus on the heavy stuff like training.”

"Yeah..." Angel replied, thoughtful. She was already training so hard throughout the weeks spent here, but all she managed to find out was new applications to her powers. She wasn't willing to sit with her thumbs up her bum and wait for the visions to suddenly grant her more powers. She had been given control and precision before. It was a matter of properly applying that precision, if power wasn't something she'd gain any more.

Now that the subject of finding solutions about keeping control over herself, Angel figured that while she was here, she might as well talk about the Arbiter insteaf of herself for once.

"I haven't seen much of you in the past few weeks. What have you been up to until recently?" Perhaps a bit too direct. There were a lot of people she hadn't seen much over the weeks, as if they weren't existing much outside of their rooms.

Lawrence shook his head in response.

“Me? Spending far too much time moping around alone mostly. Nothing productive, that's for sure.”

Wow... that was quite the loaded answer. She really didn't expected him to reply that directly to her direct question.

"Oh... uh... what do you usually do? Don't like hanging around people? Not that we are giving good reasons to either." Angel chuckled bitterly at the last comment. Yeah, who would like to befriend fucked up classmates turning out to be murderers?

“Not really, no. I've tried getting better there, but you can only do so much. Most of my time is spent in the library waiting for Abes to come by asking me to use my power on them. Otherwise I might walk around town with that damn dog while she sniffs out someplace she wants to eat.”

It was the simple truth, Lawrence lived as boring a life as someone in his position possibly could, and he didn't mind it one bit. A quiet night sipping coffee while flipping through a history book was a million times more appealing than getting smashed and probably pissing someone off in the process. He'd never needed much for company, even in his life before USARILN, and Lizzy took care of his few social needs before Emma and Hazel moved into his dorm.

“A quiet life is pretty nice if you can manage it.”

"I see..."

Completely opposite to herself, Angélique figured. Throughout her life she chased after fame and recognition. Running from one side of the country to the other for pleasing fans with her music and constantly seeking out true friends. Ironically, pepple she'd truly call friends, and found herself a lover, would be here, when she was convinced life at USARILN to be the bottom of her existence.

"I... suppose if it makes you happy, there's not really a problem about it, right?" She couldn't judge other people's way of finding ways to make them comfortable, even if she wasn't totally agreeing with that. But for a social butterfly like herself, being alone evoked loneliness. Being lonely was something she wasn't able to live with.

"I don't know if I'd be able to though. So many people to meet. So much to learn about them. So much bonds to be made. I don't know how you do it."

“You just kinda fumble through it until you land on something that works. I'm not exactly anybody's best friend, I'm just good at not making enemies.”

Looking outside, Lawrence noted the position of the sun and let out a sigh. Lizzy had been gone for awhile at this point, and he wasn't entirely sure she hadn't disturbed the wrong local and gotten herself into a bind. Sometimes the dog was a royal pain in the ass, but he was still attached to her, whether willingly or not. With a sigh, he got off the couch and stretched, offering an almost apologetic shrug to Angel as he did so.

“I should probably go hunt that damned dog I mentioned down- lord knows she's probably broken into a dozen fridges by this point. Did you have anything else on your mind?”

Following Lawrence's getting up from the couch, Angélique did so as well, giving him a faint smile at the mention of his dog. "Nah, that was pretty much all I wanted to discuss. Thank you for hearing me out. I needed someone to listen to what I was thinking of doing. Get a second from our very own doc, you know?" she chuckled slightly as she referred to him as their personnal psychiatrist.

Making her way to the door, Angel casted a glance followed by a grin towards Lawrence "Well, if you want to do anything and shake off that 'unproductive moping', give me a signal and we could figure something out, yeah? I'm an expert when it comes to group activities."

Chapter XI: Challenges

Angélique | Zoe

---

𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟞, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟙𝟛𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Lasrever}

This morning, Angel’s jogging brought her into the forest. It was a nice change of scenery for once, getting to explore the lush greenery all around her and lost herself into the sounds of nature. The wind brushing against the leaves, the birds singing, the… thumping of an animal against the bark of a tree? That wasn’t the sound of a woodpecker.

Investigating the source of the noise against her better judgement, Angélique approached the scene and saw what it was all about. The grunts of a red-haired classmate hitting a tree with no punch held back. Zoe looked frenzied, lost deep in her rage as she mindlessly slammed her fists with all her might against wood.

This scene frightened the raven-haired Aberration to the core. God, it looked just like herself when she was lost into the moment. Except that Zoe was using a tree instead of a punching bag… and Angel clearly didn’t work her hands until they bled this way. The sight of blood on Zoe’s knuckles raised an alarm in the older girl’s mind. So this was how Zoe was coping. The reason her knuckles were bandaged.

“Zoe!” Angel’s voice reached out to the redhead Mage, her voice tinged with a mix of worry and disapproval. “Goddamnit! I told you this wasn’t healthy!”

The interruption threw Zoe off, her final punch dragging across the bark in a motion that left her cuts ragged and torn. With a hiss of pain, she took a step back. Great. Angel of all people just had to go exploring, didn't she?

Zoe had hoped no-one would find her doing this, really. Glancing down at her now opened fist as blood ran down her fingers, her reaction wasn't to grimace or wince at the pain. Instead, flicking the drops off of her hand, Zoe laughed lowly. "Oh, I heard you. Doesn't mean I was listening." And there was a sick kind of pleasure in her voice as rivulets of dark blood trickled down in stark contrast to her pale skin.

But she hadn't wanted Angel - or anyone else - to find her like this. And there was a hint of something close to shame in the redhead's face as she called out. "You should go, Angel. Watching me won't do anything but upset you." Her eyes darted towards the blood-covered knife on the ground, frowning. Shit.

This wasn't right. None of them were meant to see how close she was to breaking, that was the rule. If Angel left, there wouldn't have to be a problem. Simple. Always so simple. Zoe was meant to be the unbreakable one. That was all they had to see. Everything else was just a whole load of irrelevant bullshit. "Leave."

Angel frowned at the words. She knew Zoe was bullheaded and respected her tenacious attitude, but that didn't mean the older young woman was willing to let go of her friend and let her destroy herself like that.

No."

Doing the complete opposite of what Zoe told her, Angelique walked towards the girl, spotting the bloodied knife on the ground as she reached a much too close distance.

"We didn't have all this talk last time to have me just walk away and ignore you, Zoe. For fuck's sake if something is bothering you, talk to me."

Of course, it had to be one of her friends that stumbled across her. Knowing Angel probably wouldn't just leave on her say-so, Zoe grimaced. "If something was going to happen, it would have happened the first fifty times. There's nothing we need to talk about."

She turned back to the tree, her fist flying towards it once more - but this time, coated in black, it tore through it like it was barely substantial. As the tree fell away from them, Zoe turned back to Angel. "See? Perfectly capable of handling myself, so nothing to worry about here. Thanks for the concern, but it's fine."

Yeah, she knew none of that was anything to do with Angel's point, but hoping against hope that a display of strength would be enough to quiet the singer's worries. Anything but explaining all of this. "Just try not to think about it too much, alright?" Forcing a smile that couldn't cover up the exhaustion in her face or the hint of self-loathing that never quite left her expression.

Never let them see you hurting. A simple rule, and one she planned to follow.

Angélique was finding it very difficult to follow Zoe’s logic pattern, raising a disbelieving eyebrow to the whole destruction show. “I’m pretty sure your hands would have appreciated if you were doing that in the first place. You can destroy shit instead of destroying yourself, you know?”

As much of a miserable pile of self-hatred and pity Angel considered herself to be, she never understood to concept of hurting oneself. Maybe it was because she actually feared pain, or maybe it was just that she never believed that kind of crap. “What’s hurting yourself going to change? Punishing yourself for your past mistakes? Keeping yourself grounded in pain? I don’t believe in those stupid reasons. Nothing’s good going to come out of it. At worst, you’ll get blood poisoning and actually end up becoming less effective to protect those you care about.”

"It's always the same. Pain. It's good." Zoe smiled softly, not turning towards Angel. How was she supposed to explain this to someone who didn't understand how the world operated? Didn't already know the importance of pain, how it centred you and reduced you to what you were at your core? "It's the only thing that's constant - everything revolves around it. Change, control, resolve... It lets me know who I should be. I won't get that from melting a damn tree."

Finally, she turned around, meeting Angel's eyes with a gaze of mixed guilt and determination. "Besides, you're wasting your breath. There's no danger. I'm not going to kill myself - I wouldn't be able to, in case you forgot." There was a hint of bitterness there, and Zoe knew throwing her suicide attempt at Angel was unfair, but it didn't stop the words coming out.

"I've been weak. I've hurt all of you. It's not happening again, even if I have to tear myself apart to make that happen." Zoe wasn't like Angel; she wouldn't let herself wallow in self-pity when she could do something about it. "What's important is I've got my resolve. I don't see why it matters how I'm doing it, or why I should give a single fuck whether you 'believe' in my reasons." Zoe was well aware that she was ignoring Angel's point, but this wasn't a discussion she wanted to have.

Angel stood silent, taking time to assimilate Zoe's words. God, it was all fucked up. Why did everyone have to thrive on pain and self-destruction to better themselves? Was it all that was needed to find resolve in their situation? Was the mental pain not enough to carry on?

Angel kneeled, picking the bloodied knife laid on the ground. As she stood up, she kept staring at the crimson fluids staining the sharp edge. "I'm... just sick of it all. See the people I care hurting themselves like that. Why do you need to add physical scars on top of the ones you already bear in your head?"

Angelique paused, her shades-covered eyes returning Zoe's gaze. "I don't believe you. If you really didn't care what the others think and seclude yourself from the world, you wouldn't be tormenting yourself the way you do in your sleep."

"What the hell are you talking about?"

The road trip. The singing. How she'd gone out of her way to make Zoe feel comfortable. Had that all been because Angel got a free window into her head? "That isn't your business. I don't need you to psychoanalyse me," there was white-hot fury undercutting Zoe's tone as her fists clenched by her side, "and I definitely don't need - or want - your pity. They're dreams, Angel. They've got nothing to do with the real world."

And yet despite her seeming confidence, it was clear that Zoe had been thrown off by Angel's comment. Of course she was - she genuinely didn't seem to know what the other girl was talking about. Whether Angel realised it or not, Zoe's muttering had revealed weaknesses that the redhead wouldn't even admit to herself.

"You and I both know those nightmares we keep getting every night are probably the most fucking truthful things about ourselves. The guilt, the shame, the worries and the grief, they are all fucking real, no matter how hard you deny it. Because when you dream, you aren't consciously defending yourself."

Defiant, Angel's voice had risen to meet against Zoe's anger, feeling herself be swept by her own inner fury, however channeling that vivid feeling into trying to make Zoe understand she wasn't here to annoy her, but to prove their friendship was true and that there was no need to go that far.

"I don't pity you, goddamnit! You told me I should keep caring, I told you I'll keep listening. I fucking care if you feel sad, happy or angered. It's not pity I feel, it's freaking empathy! Is it so wrong that I just want to be there as your friend and try to understand your pain instead of just leaving you to cope with it all by yourself?"

Her grip on the knife had tightened, snakingly so. "Get that into your thick skull, Zoe. You are not alone anymore, so stop acting like a lone wolf. You want to act tough? I'm fine with it, and that's better than looking all emotional and weak like me. But don't go full denial on me when we told each other we'd be there for the other. Because we're friends, and we care. I know you care as much as I do."

"And then what?" Zoe laughed, bitter and defeated. "When I said I wanted you to care, I didn't mean about me. Because, you know..."

A lunge forward took Zoe within touching distance of the other girl, her smile made disturbing by her dead-eyed expression. "The last person that did that ended up in a body bag. A limbless, lifeless, husk. Three guesses how they ended up there. One, actually - you're not dumb." Her voice was carefully level. "I've always been capable of killing. Fucked in the head. The Stigma just... redirects it." To people she cared about, who would never be hurt at all if she had her way.

"So yes, Angel. I care about you. I care about a lot of you, and I wish I didn't."

And despite the way Zoe's eyes lit with pleasure at the thought, she didn't want Angel to join the pile of bodies she'd left behind. "This isn't going to get better. I'm going to end up alone if we ever come out of this alive, and that's just how things have to be. Don't--" And finally, Zoe's composure cracked, her voice shaking for a brief second as desperation crept in. "Don't make it harder than it already is. Pretending only makes things worse in the long run."

When Zoe lunged forward, Angel fumbled with the knife in her hands, in an attempt to bring the knife low purely as she feared the girl was going to end up taking the weapon by the blade. Accidentally, she slashed lightly the palm of her right hand, emancipating a slight wince of pain on her lips and a few rivulets of blood dripping from the wound.

"Then so be it. I knew the risks. You warned me. Still, here I am." It really dud felt as if she didn't care for her own life or was suicidal, facing Zoe like that despite knowing full well what she could do to her. Maybe it was a morbid resolve, or lack thereof, or even her love for people drove her to self-destruction.

"I..." Angel was at a loss. She only wished the best for Zoe, to help her out. But evidently, the girl was walking a path that was setting her up against her very own friends, whether it was because of this fucked up mentality or her Stigma. The decision was hard to make. Angélique always wanted to be close to her friends, but what if being that close actually hurt said friends than benefit them.

“I’m sorry if I’m being selfish. I just… always want to be by my friends’ side. Our world became such shit ever since we became Mages that I try so hard to make others feel good. Probably to help me feel better too… but I fail to see I’m cornering and even choking some with that same attitude.”

It was kind of a defeat for Angel to admit such a thing. She refused to give up on the others, no matter how much far down they were. But hearing Zoe’s desperation, it kind of brought her down from her insistence. She wasn’t doing Zoe any good by pushing her like that, and she was slowly realizing it now.

"I just want you to understand what you're doing. Because--" Zoe tried to meet Angel's eyes. "Listen. I really do consider you a friend, you know? I want to be able to care for you, and let you do the same for me. Wouldn't have bothered ever going after you if I didn't. But for that to happen, this," Zoe raised a bloodied hand, glancing down at the ragged, torn flesh, "is something I need to do. If I'm not doing it to myself, I'm doing it to somebody else." And it wasn't for Zoe's sake that this point needed to be made.

It wasn't about protecting herself, was it? Wasn't about running away because she was such a piece of shit that she couldn't even fight against her own urges? Whatever her motivation was, Zoe figured it didn't matter. Because it was Angel's neck being risked here. Blue eyes glanced down towards the knife, to the fresh blood staining the blade.

Blood for blood, huh? Zoe frowned. Don't follow me down, Angel.

"Angel, can I ask you something?" Zoe spoke quietly, as though the thought had just struck her. Perhaps it had. "Do you believe in heroes?"

That question kind of brought back Angel to that time she had spoken with Allison about Good and Evil. Why had it been so easy to answer that everything was grey, while right now she was so damned focused on trying to crawl towards the ‘lighter’ side of the balance? She kept telling the others that she was willing to step into the darkness to do good, but Angel desperately tried to convince herself she had to be a good person.

“Truth is, I did…” Angel paused, looking back at her previous life. “You know what I was doing before, right? I wasn’t only a musician, at least that’s what I was thinking of myself. Maybe it was my inflated ego, but yes. I was believing in heroes. I thought I could become one too. If I had managed to gather so many fans, I thought that I could send a message. Make it be heard. Stop the machine of hatred.”

“For real, even if my dreams crumbled that day… I think I’m still trying to cling onto that concept. Why would I be running around, flapping my mouths about peace and love crap? But after all that happened, I’m not sure anymore if I believe into my own fantasies.”

"You know, that doesn't surprise me, Angel." And that wasn't a bad thing, really. Angelique was just - for lack of a better word - predictable. "I did too, once."

"Used to believe there'd be someone there to save the day." But Zoe frowned instead of smiling. There was no optimism in her face, no joy in the proclamation. "When I was a kid, I'd spend so many hours bloodied up and bruised, coughing up my guts, hoping that some hero would come save me."

And there was a low chuckle. "Never happened, funnily enough. Heroes are... you could say I think they're real. I just don't think they can do shit. They're the worst kind of people, because everything about them is a lie. The good guys don't win, the bad guys don't lose, and there's no such thing as a happy ending." Zoe smiled bitterly. "Only way to beat the bad guys is to be worse than they are."

"Heroes exist. But they don't make it to the end of the story." Zoe glanced down towards Angel's bloodied hand. "You're like I used to be - you think everyone can be saved. They can't. I can't." With a smile, Zoe reached out with her power, one of the nearby trees beginning to rot away and topple.

"It's too late for me, and you need to accept it. If you still want to consider me a friend despite that... then I guess it's your decision." It was as close as the decay-wielding mage would ever get to backing down.

Angélique did not want to admit it, but Zoe was right. No matter how hard they tried, not everyone could be saved, either from themselves nor Mages and monsters alike. If heroes would be build one lies, then Angel, hell the whole evacuation group and Zoe alike, were the living proof of that. Behind their heroic footage, there lies an ugly truth that wasn’t shown to the world, and Angel realized it now more than ever.

“I… understand. But Zoe… if I am what you were like back before you lost yourself and don’t want me to follow the path you took… “ the raven-haired Aberration handed the bloody knife to her red-headed friend with her wounded hand. “I will find a way to become that someone else you could have been. A hero that can save herself and the others she care about.”

The older Aberration chuckled lightly, not sure if she did believe in her own foolishness. “It might just be a fool’s hope, but I’ll try. I’ll try and I’ll show you that it can be done. And that you’re wrong. And that you can still be brought back, even if you say you can’t be saved.” Angel offered the girl a half-assed grin that could pass for a challenge. “I’ll drag you out by force one day. Just you watch. Because I won't give up hope on you, no matter how hard you push me back.

"So yeah, I'll still consider you a friend nonetheless. But if you don't want me to be your friend and want me to abandon hope on you, then you might as well start considering me a rival.”

Zoe was silent for a long moment as she took the knife, looking at the red-covered blade. And then she laughed - a genuine, wholehearted, laugh. There was clearly something about this that she found funny, but for once her attitude wasn't cruel or mocking. "You really are a stubborn bitch, you know that?" Coming from Zoe, that seemed to actually be a compliment. Leaning down, she wiped the blade clean before offering it to Angel, handle-first.

"Tell you what. You wanna think of yourself as a rival, I'm gonna give you this thing." Zoe looked sincere, though her eyes were bright with amusement. Her smirk was more than confident enough to match Angel's, as she looked at her friend's expression with equal parts resolve and enthusiasm. "Prove me wrong," Zoe's tone took on a serious note, "and the day you do, I'll ask for it back. Until then... consider it a reminder."

“Guess that makes us two then. How do you say it in English? Birds of a feather flock together?” Angel chuckled in reply to Zoe’s statement, finding her laughter eerily contagious.

Looking at the knife returning to her, Angel took it gently away from Zoe’s hands, but with certain resolve in her eyes beyond the veil of her shades. One day, that knife will return to Zoe.

“Thank you, Zoe. I accept this challenge.” Angel gave the girl another smirk, however more genuine than the half-assed smug grin she tried to muster earlier. “Guess I better start training to show you up, huh? Starting with those trees here.”

The Voice Mage stepped forwards for a few paces, facing the trees Zoe had started rotting off. With a deep breath, Angel let out a deep-toned shout, forcefully tearing the small branches and the leaves from the trees caught into her wide area of effect and pulverizing entirely the spots that had been rotten.

Funny, how it had become so easy for the young woman in her twenties to be letting out devastating and controlled screams, compared to those choked first attempts at screaming when both Zoe and Angélique had been training for the first time in Ground Zero. Just how much had things changed.

"Show me up? Now you're seriously dreaming."

Zoe watched Angel's display with a small grin. Couldn't fault the rockstar's determination, at least, even if she doubted the other aberration knew how much she was trying to achieve.

Still, for now, Zoe settled on a small smile. I hope you're right. Because deep down, Zoe felt maybe that was what she needed - and trying to drag her back could keep Angel from falling further. It wasn't perfect, far from flawless, but it was a solution - the slightest chance at giving both of them a way out.

And for now, maybe that could be enough.

Chapter XII: Subnatural Life

Angélique | Kusari

---

𝕆𝕔𝕥𝕠𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟞, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟚𝟙𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Piercing Light}

Today had been a short trip at the beach with one of the hellcats. After finishing blowing some trees down with Zoe in the afternoon, Angélique had left the forest to fix herself a lunch real quick before driving off for yet another roadtrip during the afternoon. She mostly kept to herself at the beach, walking in the sand and swimming in the sea. Lost in thought while she was drifting on the water’s surface, she realized that while she did not like thinking back about Washington, it was a moment of her life that would change her forever, just like her concert from a bit more than a month ago. Not only Angel, but her teammates too. As a matter of fact, each battle would change them, but this horrible day was by far the worse, for the mistake she had done had triggered an event that would probably have traumatized everyone in evacuation unit.

She owed each of them an apology for what they did. And eventually, her thoughts drifted to one of the girls with whom she still had not spoken to. The Aberration was uneasy about talking to the white-haired Arbiter, mostly cautious about her whole behavior. But a week ago, at the shooting range, Kusari had shown a side that Angel could only but wonder if the girl was the monster she appeared to be. She wasn’t cold, impassionate and mean like her previous appearances. She was just a classmate, laughing at their cheesy puns, praising the others of their skills and improving herself with the others. Then, the floating girl remembered once more about that time the both of them were holding that drinking contest. Sure, it was unfair and maybe even asshole-ish from Kusari to just keep going despite knowing she will never get drunk, but at that moment Angel didn’t really mind. She was just in a party animal mood to care. She just wanted another friend to drink with.

So yeah, why not kill two birds with one stone? How about spending the evening with the girl, try to learn more about her and enjoy what little freedom they have right now, then apologize to her for what she dragged Kusari into? It seemed like a good plan for the evening.

Eventually, Angélique returned to Zhang’s estate late in the evening, past dinner time. After getting dinner and showering the seawater from herself, Angélique slipped into more comfortable clothing as she made her way to the cellar, grabbing a few bottles of very fine taste Angel had the opportunity of trying before, plus a few new discoveries that might prove to taste good. She never liked much the raw taste of alcohol, preferring fruity-tasting wine and such over beer or strong liquor.

Filling the bucket with icy water and the bottles of wine, Angel made her way to Kusari’s room, knocking at her door and hoping she wasn’t disturbing whatever she was up to at this time of the evening.

Kusari had just finished putting on her pajamas when she heard a knock from her door. She couldn't think of anyone that would want to see her, not for anything important anyhow. She told Zoe to come to her if she needed help, but somehow she felt that promise would ring hollow to the girl. Letting out a yawn Kusari walked up to the door and swung it open. She squinted her eyes at Angel, then at the wine she was holding. Did she come here to drink with her? She didn't really like alcohol, and the stuff had no effect on her. She figured this was karma for tricking a poor innocent girl into a drinking contest she had no hope of winning.

"Oh hey Angel, what's up? There a night party going on I don't know about?"

“I wish there was one. You know, get to finish what we started last time.” The Aberration answered with a chuckle. “No but really, I felt like drinking and talking tonight. We… didn’t get to know each other all that much, have we? Sounds like it might be the perfect time to do so, yeah?”

Kusari didn't quite understand, what was there to talk about? Was she just being friendly, with her? Kusari looked back into her room and ruffled her hair. She supposed she could just go along with it, Angel didn't seem annoying at least. "Um, sure, just hang on a second." Kusari closed the door until it was barely ajar, and then went over to a dresser. On top of it was a small pile of sketches, sketches she really wasn't comfortable letting anyone see. She shoved the sketches into a drawer and opened her door again to let Angel inside.

Kusari sat on her bed with her legs crossed. "So, was there anything specific you wanted to talk about?"

Angel joined Kusari into her room after the door opened fully, donning an enthusiastic smile, putting the bucket of ice over the night table. “Oh… to be fair… I didn’t really come here with a questionnaire already established in mind. You know, I just really like to talk and get to know everyone.” Angel giggled light-heartedly in response to Kusari’s question. Really, she was mostly here to know more about the girl, see if they could be on good terms, and drink with someone.

Retrieving one bottle of wine from the bucket, Angel took two wine glasses in one expert hand and poured the deep red liquid in the recipients before handing one to Kusari. “Actually, I have one now. What kind of drinks do you prefer? You’ll have to excuse me. I only brought stuff with the most fruitful flavors. I don’t like so much the taste of raw alcohol. I personally love sipping down sweetness and stuff like that. Hard liquor is ever used to really get smashed in parties.”

Kusari looked at the glass full of wine in her hand, swirling the liquid around. She knew she didn't like the stuff, but felt she should drink one glass at least. "I don't actually like alcohol at all, and I can't get drunk even if I wanted to, which I wouldn't.
I guess that drinking challenge may have given everyone the wrong idea." She took a sip of the wine, and was reminded of her talk with Emma. "Is wine in fashion or something? Emma brought me some too once..." She drank the rest of the wine and leaned against the headboard.

"Since drinks aren't really my thing, why don't we talk about something else?... Are you interested in anyone? She asked suddenly.

"O-Oh… I’m sorry. I… didn’t know…"

It suddenly felt very awkward for Angel to have brought all that wine over. She couldn’t possibly drink all of it herself without being severely drunk, would she? Perhaps she’d finish the rest of it with Allison later tonight. “Emma too? I… feel for you, considering you don’t drink.” A nervous laugh escaped Angel’s lips. “I… guess girls prefer wine over beer? I mean, that’s just my personal preference. Don’t know if it’s actually a thing or not.”

Naturally, being a clutz when it came to relationships and romance, all of that stuff just flew right over Angéliques head. She blinked a few times, wondering what Kusari meant by that question. So she just went with a heartfelt answer, as always.

“Well, to be honest I’m finding everyone interesting in our class. After all, I never got to actually meet Mages in person, even with the few internet fans who pretended to be Subnaturals. And you know, since we’re all in the same class and sharing the same experiences, I’m pretty much interested in knowing everyone.”

Angel took a sip of her glass, apparently going WAY slower than when both girls had held their drinking contest. “What about you? Are you interested in someone in particular?”

Kusari tilted her head and rested her cheek on her palm. Either the rockstar was more naive than she seemed, or she was avoiding the topic.

"I meant people you'd like to date, Angel. As for me..." She thought about Callan, her face visibly becoming hollow. "I've asked Callan out, but I uh... I don't think that's going to go anywhere." She shoved thoughts of Callan to the side for now, and thought of Allison. Was she interested in Allison? Interested might be the right word, the girl was cute.

"Slept with Allison once, though honestly it was probably just a one time thing. I guess I just wanted to let some stress out after Wisford." She said, not thinking twice.

There was a look of uncertainty on Angel’s face as Kusari explained her previous question more precisely. Then the detail that made Angel feel really uncomfortable deep inside.

Oh fuck…

“Kusari… to be honest with you I…” Angel swallowed a bitter gulp, not sure what she was about to answer would brew an unwanted storm. But the white-haired Arbiter was honest with her, so Angel was going to do so as well. Not that honesty was lacking in the singer anyway. “I’m actually going out with Allison. Ever since we came back from DC…”

Angel did not know if a lot of people actually knew about her lover’s Stigma. Whatever happened between those two, was it love that turned sour or simply Kusari being manipulated by Allison’s Stigma? God, what if Allison decided to love Angel simply to fill the hole that was left after whatever happened to make those two not see each other after one night.

“W-what happened between you two? Why do you think it was for one night only?”

"Oh." Kusari simply muttered with a sigh. She avoided looking downright distraught, but she clearly appeared disappointed at the least. It felt as if another door had closed in her face, the room felt colder all of a sudden. She couldn't be angry at Angel, nor could she blame Allison. She knew it was most likely just a fling, surely she knew that.

"It was a spur of the moment thing, I can't tell you what Allison was thinking, but personally I..." Kusari glanced at her body. This body once felt alien to her, as if she were trapped in an unfamiliar shell. But it was comfortable now, disturbingly comfortable.

"Even if it was just for one night I needed to feel... wanted. Pretty pathetic I know, but I couldn't help it. I felt like I was turning into a monster."

Oh my fucking god… I am the worst…

Hearing Kusari, it felt like she really had been a victim to Allison’s Stigma, and it created a whole misunderstanding. Holy shit, this girl harbored even such feeling. Now Angel was visibly uncomfortable, not because she was feeling bad for her own relationship with Allison, but because of what Kusari was probably feeling right now.

She just couldn’t straight up tell her that it was Allison’s Stigma that pushed the Aberration in seeking her out for ‘comfort’. Only Allison knew what was going on in her mind anyway. But one thing was for certain, Allison and Kusari needed to sit down and talk, now that Angélique felt herself standing in the middle of their relationship, however strange or fickle it had been.

“Don’t say that, please. It’s not pathetic, it’s normal even…” Angel glanced down at her glass of wine, feeling the shame of what she was about to say. “You know… it’s not so different for me too. I go around, trying to be friends with people and all. But really… it’s probably because I want to feel loved, or looked up to. All my life I pursued a dream to be everyone’s idol. And after I fucked up my own dreams, I tried to keep going, befriending as many people as possible, because I feared ending up alone with no one to love, or be appreciated by.”

Angel chuckled sadly, very bitterly so. “Isn’t that what makes us Humans though? We may have changed, for the better or the worse, but really, does that make us any closer to those monsters out there? I don’t believe that. We’re still Humans inside. I think, on the opposite, we actually crave more about our humanity now that the world shuns us.”

Kusari let out an amused puff of air. "More human huh? I guess that makes sense." She didn't feel like it, in her mind there was now a clear divide between humans and subnaturals. She just wasn't sure if the divide was something that would never change, or if it could be overcome. Angel was right, people always wanted to be loved, to be needed. But people don't always get what they want. She glanced at Angel before looking towards the window. She wanted to believe she could form proper connections with people, but she was afraid she'd ruin her relationships like she had with Sander and Christmas.

"It's a shame letting us be humans would be inconvenient for Zhang. She'd have us be tools, while the rest of the world would gladly see us hanging from a tree." Kusari let out a sigh. "I wonder what they'd do with us if the monsters stopped attacking, if rouge mages stopped killing people. I can't see them just letting us go."

The raven-haired singer frowned at the mention of Zhang. Truly, that woman was a mystery, more now than before considering everything happening so far. But eventually, no matter just how nice they were treated for the past few weeks, everyone was still shackled to the whims of the Director, no matter how bigger or better their cage were.

“With all the undeserved respect I owe to our mighty tyrannical overlord, she can go fuck herself. Or the world, for that matter. Even us X’s, we know we are completely fucked up, but we still have feelings and every kind of attachments that make us not so different from Regulars. Who cares what they think? As long as we have each other’s backs and care for our friends here, I won’t care what they all think.”

It was partly true, considering public opinion was something that had started to be something that might affect the views on Subnaturals as a whole, considering what Marcus managed to do in his interview and their recent heroics being broadcasted. And while Angel, deep inside, wanted to feel like a hero and regain everyone’s trust, she still believed that her friends came before everything else.

“I don’t know for sure… but if that day ever happens, then it will be the start of a whole new battle.” Angel finished by slowly sipping down her glass, her gaze following Kusari’s.

Kusari let out a chuckle and lightly hit Angel on her leg. "She can probably hear that ya know, not like I disagree though." If Kusari let Zhang know how she really felt to her face the woman was likely to have her shot. "She sure can cover up a mess though..." She said. D.C had been a disaster in a number of ways, she wanted to do better going forward but she had no idea what she'd do if regulars attacked them like that. "We need to work on a way of handling people without killing them. That or just run away. We can't afford to make the same mistake twice. Lily... I can't believe she did that. She seemed like the type to try and avoid hurting people no matter what. I guess she was overcompensating."

When the subject of Washington came out of the blue just as unexpectedly as Allison’s situation, Angélique’s already morose expression turned to remorseful. She had intended to apologize to Kusari about the whole ordeal, but she didn’t think the subject would come up so quickly, at least not while she was still sober.

“Lily is a good girl. It’s just… she deals with the same shit as any other Aberration.” Angel protested vividly when Lily was called out. The blonde girl sure messed up, but she had lost control, just like Angélique back there.

The raven-haired metalhead rubbed her neck, where a leather choker previously used to hide her X-mark. “I know it’s too easy of an excuse and blame it all on the Stigma, but that’s a truth you’ll have to learn to deal with, Kusari. Fault us for being weak-willed or anything, but people like me, Lilianna or Zoe can’t control it. Especially not after being locked up for two weeks without having a way to sate the urges.”

“But that still doesn’t mean I won’t try to find an alternative to prevent such things to happen in the future. I fucked up, big time, and I’m sorry that you and the others had to deal with this shit because of what I did. That’s why I’ll work double on finding a way to stop me when I lose it, be it drastic or not.”

There was the stigma excuse again. Kusari's thumb and middle finger tapped together, she blinked and looked at her hand. Right, those claws were gone for now. Did she... miss them?

She shook her head and looked to Angel. "I talked to Zoe about her stigma." She said, sitting with her legs crossed to get comfortable. "She told me it was too hard to resist too, so I told her to kill me, melt me away. Didn't quite mean it,
I think, but she tried to do it. Almost killed me, she could have done it I know. But she didn't, even with me goading her on she was able to fight it. I don't know how bad it is for Lily but all those people? They were down weren't they? I wonder if she even hesitated." Kusari let out a groan and tapped her forehead. "I just don't know... Obviously we need you guys but every time you're forced out there something fucked up can happen."

“Sounds like you’d be dead if it wasn’t for your immortality. See, it’s only after you are actually using your power you realize what you did wrong. I wouldn’t have killed those people if Siena hadn’t dropped the cars on the people I pushed. Those people wouldn’t have died if Lily hadn’t lost control. I know my powers. I know they aren’t strong enough to outright kill people. That’s why I kept screaming nonetheless. Because I knew I could knock them out without killing them.”

“But I didn’t expect what would happen next…”

Lips sealed, the young woman’s jaws tensed and her teeth clenched hearing Kusari talk. She had a preview of what a Stigma was with Zoe, but kept on trying call out Lilianna as being a remorseless murderer. Deep inside, Angel felt her gut churning, but she kept her calm. “I can’t tell what’s happening in every Abe’s minds. Not all Stigmas are the same. Zoe’s twisted, Allison’s a constant nuisance, Hazel’s pure rage and mine’s maddening. I wouldn’t pin Lily as a murderer because who knows what kind of shit she is dealing with.”

Angel finished the rest of her glass before corking the bottle of wine, obviously having lost the mood to drink with everything that was being discussed. “Of course it’s going to be shit. Our curse can only be sated by violence, and whenever the situation arises, you can be damn sure it’s going to rear its ugly head and push us into making stupid choices. Some can control it, like Emma, while some loses it. So really we’re just loose cannons who need to be watched. That’s why we can’T solely rely on ourselves. We need tools, people like Lawrence, or any other guy armed with a tazer or tranguilizers, to take us out before shit like what happened at D.C. ever happens again.

“It’s time for us to find alternatives. And it’s time for you guys to be aware of that and put us out when the worse happens.”

Ah, that pissed her off, of course it would... Kusari looked down at the bed as Angel talked. She'd clearly given up on trying to fully take control of her stigma. Did she really understand what she was asking for? "They wont risk using tranqs or tasers, not unless it's enough juice to turn your spine into a lightning rod." Kusari could see herself losing Angel, she didn't want to lose another friend, but she couldn't just lie either. She looked back to Angel as something crossed her mind.

"There are some Aberrations that don't feel the pull of their stigmas, aren't there? Maybe we could find a way to do that for you and the others?"

“They’ll have to get into their head that it’s either us or those people again. We were lucky this mess was cleaned, but we might not be that fortunate next time.”

Angel contemplated the idea Kusari had given her. Of course there were those who were considered more ‘docile’, who were not considered a threat enough to actually make it into Arbiter lodgings, but other than Emma, Hazel and Sander, she had no idea who to turn to. Ernest seemed in control too, but given what he did to her, she wasn’t willing to speak to him, lest she’d actually lose control in front of him, again but for a different reason.

“I’m all up for trying to control it like some others do, but like I said, it might be because their Stigmas are wholly different. Although I’d like to think it’s just because I don’t try hard enough. I keep trying to be in control, but I fail every time something really huge happens.”

“I don’t like the idea of it, but Hazel apparently has some medication, and her collar puts her to sleep if she gets too violent. I don’t like the idea of adding another shackle on me and turn into an obedient marionette, but if worse comes to happen, I’ll be willing to accept this shit, if only to stop me from doing a fucking mess again.”

Kusari shook her head. "It sounds like you're being forced to give up and accept that." Kusari knew Angel had little choice, she was asking for an answer when she didn't even fully comprehend what the question should be. But she had to try something, didn't she? What else was there to do, just sit down like a good dog and hope master Zhang didn't put her down?

"I guess I can't blame you for that. If there is a thing called fate, it sure isn't on our side."

Angélique looked down, contemplating at her empty glass of wine "It sure isn't..." she repeated after Kusari. What a twisted joke everything had been. And even if they were at peace and secluded for the moment, Fate still brought unpleasant surprises throughout their stay here.

"I... think I should be going. Sorry if our talk has gone downhill. It really wasn't my intention..."

There have been things she didn't expect to hear, and it was probably because of that the whole atmosphere had gone cold. Truly they were cursed indeed.

"O-oh, um, sure." Kusari stammered, she knew it was her fault the mood had soured. She wasn't the best conversationalist. Part of her wanted to ask Angel to stay. She wasn't sleeping well, and the company would be nice. But that would be selfish, anyone could see Angel didn't want to be here anymore.

Maybe don't mention the thing with Zoe, I think she's gotten enough flak already."

"Don't worry. Everyone has enough on their plates as it is, no need to add more to their burden, right?" Angel offered Kusari a faint reassuring smile.

Getting up from her seat, Angélique took the bucket filled with iced water and bottles of wine. A shame, that she didn't get to drink even a single whole bottle. At least Kusari didn't seem to be angry or sour towards her, which was a good thing despite what had been revealed. The singer felt like she should try to stay and turn things around, but unfortunately the mood had settled in and she wasn't sure she could make things better. But at the very least, Angel figured she might as well let the Arbiter a door was open, right?

"If you wanna have a chat or do something one day, you know where to find me. Well... I know I'm difficult to find these days, but just slip a note under my door and we'll figure something else than drinking, yeah?" the aberration proposed with a friendly smile she managed to muster despite her gloomy mood.

Kusari felt a strange shiver down her spine when Angel smiled at her, thankfully it wasn't visible. It still felt odd having people smile at her. Angel being so attractive didn't help either. She averted her eyes and hugged her knees. "Food is always a safe bet.
I'll see you later Angel." She said, trying to sound friendly. It was hard not to feel anxious. She couldn't afford to lose any more friends. Once Angel left Kusari locked the door and crawled under her bed sheets. Now if only she could get some sleep.

"Good night, Kusari." Angel wished to the white-haired Arbiter as she got up and left the girl's room with her bucket of wine.

Usually, it would be time for the fallen rockstar to complete her daily routine of gym training until midnight. However, her heart was not at the right place tonight. Instead, she took a car and drove off to the northern cliffs with her bucket of alcohol. The young woman did not feel the usual happiness when she was drunk. Drinking alone was no fun.

Throughout the evening, she spent her time alone over there, gazing at the stars, the moon, the distant dark horizon, and the dark ocean below. How strange, for now that she was looking at the ocean, it was the first time that it occured in her mind that this precise moment reminded her of her visions. The darkness, the ocean's waves crashing against the cliffs, everything seemed just as real as those waking dreams.

The empty bottles of wine were starting to pul up just beside the drinking Aberration as she contemplated her current state of life. In under two months only, she went down from famous rockstar to feared Subnatural. From Banshee to Siren. From a girl with daring ambitions to young woman with only a lover as a sole reason to live. A lover that she wasn't quite sure she loved the pathetic murderer than Angel had become. So much deaths, so much hatred, so much emotions and experiences Angélque never thought she'd experience one day, all in under a span of a month. She made new friends, she made new foes, She was a caged bird, reminiscing of the black-feathered canary in her room. She had lost her flame, her passion, her resolve. Everything was replaced by doubts, pain, sorrow and conflicts. Truly, what a cursed existence it was to be an X-marked, a Subnatural even. Back when she was an idol, she thought it was bad, being a Subnatural and shunned by society. She threw pledges and claims about trying to help them and change the world's view on them. However, now that she was one, she would have thought that this wasn't just bad. This life was a living hell, a much too real nightmare. She was foolish before. She thought she was right, that she had all the answers. She was pretentious. A coward. And now, she is a scared little girl, self-righteous and egotistical.

Eventually she'd fall asleep, for once the warmth of her lover replaced by the cold breeze of an October night.

That night, Angélique did not return to the estate.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

Chapter VI: Denial

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟟, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / 𝕋𝕠𝕨𝕟 / / 𝟙𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

It was Sunday… yet another boring Sunday. Strange, how the last day of the weekend seemed to always be the most calm for the students of Unit B. Then again, with all the action happening around here and them, the students deserved peace and quiet for at least one day, Angélique figured.

This Sunday felt however like any other day of the week ever since Angel had arrived on this island. In the morning, she woke up and grabbed a very quick breakfast before heading outside the estate for a lengthy morning jog. By now, she had grown accustomed to the path she was taking for her two hours of jogging exercises. She usually circled around the mansion for a lap or two before taking the path towards the beach, jogging along the way until she would decide to take the main road and go for a few miles before eventually returning to her lodging. She’d take a quick shower, change into more comfortable clothing (or at least what she considered confortable); a cropped shoulderless shirt with leather pants, all black in color, adorned with belts, chains, rings and bracelets, without forgetting about her precious shades and leather choker, one hiding her eyes to the harmful rays of the sun while the other concealed her X mark away from the prying eyes of the public, even from her own classmates’. There was always a certain reluctancy of wearing this collar anymore, feeling that its use had no longer any purpose now that she was known to be an Aberration. But deep inside, something kept compelling her to wear it. Maybe the pressure on her neck was a better reminder that she was shackled, both to the government, and to the mark of her throat.

For the past week, Angélique had always tried to dodge human interactions, leaving the mansion for morning joggings and taking the car to get further away as well. But no matter what, she always seemed to have been finding herself talking to one person or the others. Maybe she wasn’t so alone as she thought she was, even if that still didn’t forgive her from the sins she committed herself to by losing control back in Washington. However, those short discussions with the others had done great benefit to Angel for the most part. She didn’t need to forgive herself for what she did, nor the others had any reason to, but she needed to learn from this mistake and make sure it didn’t happen again. For the others’ sake, for Allison’s. Having realized it, Angel slowly began to break free from the cocoon she had spun around herself. She was more willing to speak to others now, interact with them, help if she could even.

Today, however, Angélique felt like taking a step back and look at the overview of her situation. She wanted to think about what the others had told her, summarize what she could muster for her own and strengthen her will out of what had been discussed, out of the second chances she had been given by the others. And there was also the fact that the raven-haired Siren would like to know about this whole place. It had been told this was Zhang’s estate, but why was it only maintained by Subnaturals, namely Arbiters, isolated from the world’s prying eyes and far away from USARILN? Angel didn’t feel like asking the main folk concerned yet, she wanted to know about the general layout of the area before doing so, as to trying to figure out what she should be expecting if she were to ever try and talk to one of the Arbiters serving the estate.

As such, Angélique decided to go to town to find out more about this peculiar island. Maybe people over there knew a bit of what happened around here. There was a pang of anxiety, to actually go out and seek Regulars to talk to. She hadn’t had been trying to talk to anyone outside the Institute and her classmates ever since she came to USARILN. Ironic, for a girl whose previous life was to sing and talk to the people.

Packing her usual gear for going on a trip - bikini, cooler with sandwich ingredients inside, spare clothes, guitar, notebook and minor accessories – Angélique went to the garage and took one of the two cars for a spin, as per usual. This time, however, her destination wasn’t some unknown place for sightseeing on the island. She would go to town, a few miles away from the estate.

---

It didn’t take long for the raven-haired driver to reach the small village. Figuring out a place to safely park the Dodge Charger at, Angel would make sure the car was locked and placed the keys inside the pocket of her pants before heading into the village. Her heart began racing at the thought she was just willingly walking into a public space and looking for strangers to speak with while she was exploring the desolate-looking town.

She had parked in a public lot beside a run-down gas station, the paint and plaster chipped and peeling so badly the station's original name had long been lost to the ages. Her entrance in the classy, distinctive car had spooked the nearby townspeople and the immediate area was entirely deserted. Had a tumbleweed blown by, she could almost be in a movie set. The road beside the station was cracked and uneven, years of zero maintenance showing it was hardly safe to drive on. The street ran down into a deserted distance, the small houses and tiny shops along the sidewalk looking just as uncared for. Street lights sported cracks and old street signs dangled precariously beside several traffic lights, ready to drop at any second. Some buildings had been dusted over with disuse, the interior completely caked in a thick layer of debris. Others looked slightly better, with some makeshift repairs on several windows and a teal door outside a small barbershop that was a little too small for the frame, but had been grafted onto the building anyway.

A chill ran down Angélique’s spine. Shit, this felt like a real ghost town. She was sure she had seen people earlier when she entered the town. It couldn’t have been her imagination, wasn’t it? The people at the estate had mentioned something about an inhabited town a few miles away from where they were staying. Plus, surely the staff personnel had to get supplies from somewhere? Furthermore, there were signs of people having slightly renovated some parts of this town. What exactly happened here?

Taking further steps into the town, Angélique explored the area, finding herself standing in front of a barber shop with a strange teal-painted door. This kind of place was usually a village’s meeting point, where the locals would meet and gossip about anything happening. Perhaps this place was still open? She could go in and pretend to want a haircut. Her hair had grown considerably longer after a whole month, she could use a few inches off her hair.

“Hello? Anybody here?” The young woman asked as she pushed onto the door.

The interior of the shop looked very clearly lived in, with fresh potted plants decorating the main--but empty--counter and several sheets of paper with grocery lists and appointment notes jotted down in neat handwriting. Only three of the four chairs in the small place were serviceable, the fourth leaning heavily to one side where the pneumatics in the main stand had failed and the inner pole itself had bent. Hair clippings and barbicide rested on one of the tables in front of the chairs, but there was a distinct lack of personnel around. Yet there had to be people, because despite the mess around one chair the rest of the barbershop was clean and attempts to liven up the place shone through in cracked, framed paintings of hair models and hairstyles, the pictures torn from magazines and posters. The mirrors as well shone clean and clear despite several cracks in the corners. Whoever was here, they did care about the place.

Angel noted everything that pointed to the presence of someone living in the area, but failed to see if people were actively in hiding or if they somehow were away. The whole setting intrigued the young Aberration woman. There had to be someone around these parts who could tell her the story of this island. She would not give up, she’ll wait if need be to see if anyone would return and move about in town.

The groceries lists made it clear that despite looking abandoned, this village should have a place that supplied food to whoever lived here. Taking this into consideration, Angélique left the barber shop, for the moment. Instead, she would turn her attention to the shops or any building that would be big enough to suggest a food-storing unit.

Down the street, at the far end, was a slightly taller building than the rest and just as Angel walked out, the door to it closed quickly, like someone had been peeking out. If there was anyone hiding in there, it was hard to tell beyond the sudden movement of the door, though the storefront revealed the location to be the closest thing to a grocery store the island had. Most of the shelves were empty and the refrigeration units held a paltry supply of vegetables, fruits, and dairy products, but it was clearly still functioning. Attempts at wall decor to cover the flaking wallpaper had resulted in a sort of messy mosaic of Sharpie and markers, but the span of it across the walls hinted at months of continuous work, turning the store into something of an experiment in amatuer interior design as well.

Creepy. Terribly so. Angel felt like she was being watched as she made her way to the building. Unseen people clearly knew she was here, but were quick to disappear as she came into sight. Was is that obvious she was a stranger here? If so, did they knew about her? It was uncomfortable to think she was inquiring about the area if people already associated with the murderer she was perceived as from her last concert’s incident.

It was clear to her now that people were using this place as a grocery store, seeing how fresh the products seemed despite how rundown the area was, without mentioning all the makeshifts decorations. Taking an apple from one of the refrigerators offering an assortment of fruits and vegetables, she made her way to what could’ve have been a cashier counter, waiting for someone to show up and charge her for the apple.

A clattering of boxes from behind her announced where the store's keeper had been hiding as he fell over onto all fours, tucked as he had been behind the maybe empty cardboard containers that had delivered their supplies. He looked young, no later than his mid-twenties, with a scattering of freckles across his pale shoulders and arms, a white sweater with the sleeves rolled up and some marker stains on its front revealing what he had been doing before the sudden need to hide. His brown hair was a mess and his glasses had been duct-taped in more than one location, desperately in need of repairs. He looked at Angel in a panic, large green eyes wide open as he scrabbled backwards, fixating on the collar that hid her mark.

"Who are you?" he shouted, grabbing a bag of oven-baked chips nearby like he was going to throw it at her.

Angel took a step forward in surprised as she heard boxed falling behind her, slightly startled that someone had been hiding so close to without her noticing. Yeah, people clearly had been avoiding her, now she could see it. But while she sported a faint annoyed expression, she sighed softly, maintaining her bearing.

“I’m sorry, I didn’t mean to intrude. I’m one of the students that arrived on this island a week ago, residing at the estate.” Angélique explained, trying to be as polite and courteous as she could.

"At the estate?!" he shouted, scooting back further. "So you--you're one of the Director's cronies!" He did end up throwing the bag of sea salt and vinegar chips at Angel, standing up and holding his hands out like he was ready to lunge at her. "We told you already we don't want none of your help! Even this--" he jerked his head at the shelves "--is just temporary! Stop asking us if we want more! We can do just fine without you!"

Seeing, the bag of chips coming her way, Angélique reflexively held a hand up and grabbed the snacks before it reached her face. Damn, no matter where she went, people were really being jackasses to her. But she remembered the promise she made to the others. No lashing out at them. Those people didn’t deserve it. They were simply scared, and she needed to dispel that feeling.

“Help? I… I don’t know what you are talking about. We’ve just arrived, nobody told us anything about this island. Hell, I don’t even know what we are doing here instead of returning at the institute.” Angélique explained her situation, calmly setting the bag of bitter-flavored chips onto the counter. Couldn’t he have tossed her a BBQ one instead? She hated salt and vinegar…

“Zhang… wants to help you? THE director Zhang? Are we speaking of the same person here?” Angel inquired, suddenly feeling curious about the whole situation with that recent development.

The young man seemed taken aback by her confusion as well and he lowered his hands, watching her cautiously. "You don't know nothing? Really?"

The fallen rockstar shook her head “No. I mean, I was told there was a town here, so I thought I’d come to visit this place. I… didn’t expect any of this. In fact, I came here to know more about the island. I wanted to know what people knew of the estate.”

Angel leaned her back against the counter, trying to look as relaxed as possible. If she could ease up the tension with the young man, perhaps he would be more open to talk about what was happening around here. “Look, whatever you think I came here for, I assure you that I have no clue to what’s happening around here. Can… we sit and talk? I’m curious as to what’s happening here.”

"Not interested. If you don't know, then you ain't meant to know, simple as that. If she didn't send you here, then go back. Or hang around if you want, but I doubt people'll talk to you. Cuffed sorts don't really get how things work. They just think breaking free will fix everything and end up making our lives harder. Go on, get out of here." He crossed his arms, glaring at her relaxed look against his counter.

Well, this was frustrating. Again met with the cold steely glares. No matter where they went, Subnaturals weren’t quite welcomed, wasn’t it? But Angel tried not hold it against the man. He was right at some point, they did make their lives harder, but he wasn’t completely in the right either. There was a reason Subnaturals were difficult to deal with.

“Whatever you mean, you’re probably right. Subnaturals do make life a difficulty to deal with, especially us,” Angel straightened her back, no longer leaning against the counter as she pointed her mark hidden underneath her collar “but it is partly because of those words that we are being a problem. We never asked for these marks. They just… happened on us. How can you expect all these kids to not be troubled when they all get rejected by their family and friends? And then hounded by the government, tracked until they are imprisoned and turned into combat slaves as if they were criminals. Those kids didn’t inherently changed, the world’s view did.”

Angel walked up to the man, remaining a bit farther than at two arms’ reach. She lifted her arm, handing the apple she was thinking of buying to the shop owner. “Things are never going to change for the better if people keep hating only for the reason of hating. Help isn’t something that is handed out so easily in this world nowadays. Consider it before rejecting it. You never know, you might just contribute to making this world a better place.”

"Nice speech. Now get out of here," a voice from behind one of the refrigeration units was followed by a young woman, her age roughly the same as the man, though her blonde hair was pulled back into a tight ponytail and her clean, pressed dress shirt and pleated skirt along with a bit of light makeup gave her a more refined air. What differed most, however, was the white Arbiter mark under her right eye, the characteristic streak marking her as a subnatural on full display. She leveled gray eyes at Angel, a cold look on her face.

The black-haired Aberration was surprised as she caught sight of the Arbiter that had come out of hiding as well, looking however more refined. So even Subnaturals were hating on each other now? This was something entirely new to Angel. It begged the question if it was really because of who she was that people in this town actively avoided her. Not her reputation, but her mark, since the man asked her who she was earlier.

“Fine… I thought you of all people would understand.” Angel replied as she turned to the counter, setting the apple on it before leaving the shop, not wanting to antagonize on the people inside by making herself imposing. God knows she wouldn’t be getting anywhere being so insistent.

The streets were just as deserted when she exited the grocery store, the isolation intended from the inhabitants. Whatever else she was, at the very least one thing was clear: talking would not get through to them, not when a cuff remained on her ankle and the collar hid what was obviously on her neck. X-marks were dangerous--that much was no secret, but here in this town it was almost entirely rejected by both humans and subnaturals alike. There was no use for dogs of war there.

Not longer feeling welcomed around here, Angélique walked back to the car waiting for her in the abandoned parking lot she had left the vehicle in. She had no longer any purpose in here, but she felt like exploring a bit more. It was the point to her road trips, after all. Explore, see new things, get inspired, distract her mind from the hungering stigma, sate it somewhere remote if need be.

Grabbing her guitar case and a notebook from the trunk of the car, Angélique swung the strap over her shoulder as she returned inside the village, no longer minding the inhabitants avoiding her, but taking in the surroundings instead; The general state of things, how rundown everything had been, see if some buildings were beyond repair, what establishments could have been used for. If one place looked abandoned, she would take a peek inside. All of her findings would be noted inside her book.

Most of the buildings had lost enough of their original equipment to make discerning the past employment there impossible, and several others had been converted to a storage shed for miscellaneous supplies, planks and timbers loaded into one empty building while unused furniture filled up another. The town spread out sparsely around the motel in the center, with most of the buildings left to decay on their own. The nearby pier was free of any docked boats and the lighthouse a ways outside of town seemed to remain persistently on, even when there was no need. More rubble and half-ransacked locations peppered the broken asphalt and uneven sidewalks around the town and towards the outskirts less stable buildings had simply collapsed into a mound of broken walls and rooftops. The only multi-story edifice throughout the entire location, barring the towering lighthouse, was the two-story building that took up a large portion of the town's center, doubling as both a motel above and shops on the ground floor. It was a newer site from the construction detail, with more modern architecture and conveniences.

Eventually getting around town and finishing exploring anything noteworthy around the area, Angélique figured it was time to settle down for a little bit and try to ease her mind. This whole trip in town had done no good on her spirits. While it was interesting to visit new places, meeting different people with yet the same old mentality was not doing so good on her morale.

The Aberration young woman had told Allison, Brent and Zoe that she would do everything to protect everyone, be them Regulars or Subnaturals. But it was hard to keep that resolve, after continuously meeting people that didn’t care for her nor her classmates. Truly, this duty she tried to force upon herself was an ingrate task.

Unworthy. Useless. Trash…

Feeling a bit down and prone to emotions, Angélique left town and headed next to the lighthouse, sitting next to the ocean. Thinking it was a bit more secluded over there, the USARILN student took her guitar out of its case and began playing, her voice joining along into what would be ballads fit for soft rock and country music. But as time went by, her mind was filled with negativity as the voices in her head only sang along twisted lyrics of her songs, which eventually led to Angel’s voice starting to increase in volume, the tempo accelerating into something more frenetic, until it reached a dark and moody melody only fit on the recent death metal album she was supposed to be releasing a month back, at the same date she had given her last concert in Montréal.

THIS WORLD DOESN’T DESERVE MERCY!

In what would be the climax of her song, Angélique screamed, releasing a powerful wave of forceful sonic energy onto the water’s surface, effectively splitting the watery surface in two as the sound wave forced liquid aside in a forty-meters cone.

Several seconds after the screech, dead fish floated to the water's surface, most of them stunned and then slaughtered by the Aberration's power. Dozens bobbed up and down around her, their scales glimmering in the light.

Angel’s hands immediately were brought up to her mouth after realizing what she had done.

W-What did I just do?

It was not a question of how her power managed to do that. She knew full well the deathly effects her ability wrought. It was more of realizing she had lost control, or at least thought it was safe to just scream like that at bodies of water. What if someone was actually swimming in there?

Dread gripped Angélique as she turned her head away from the scene, gathering up all of her stuff and leaving the lighthouse’s side. No matter where she went, death followed in the wake of her screams. And what was the most twisted thing about it?

She felt relieved, sated even, after snuffing out those small insignificant lives.

Throwing her stuff at the backseat of the car, Angel slammed the door shut beside her and ignited the engine, driving off away quickly, as if she tried to lose an invisible manifestation of Death.

As she drove off in her hurry, the girl didn't notice the few Arbiters who came out of the lighthouse soon afterwards, scooping up the fish in an old, worn-down net and staring after her car.

---

It took a while for Angélique to return to the mansion. For all that her Stigma was sated, she felt horrible again. Would it be so easy to uphold her will to help people if she kept accidentally killing whatever was caught in her path of destruction?

The Aberration took a few hours to return, secluding herself somewhere on the island and making sure she’d come back more stable before facing the others. This day wasn’t meant to be this emotionally charged. Why did it had to be this way? What was her problem exactly?

Rejection. For all of her life, she was used to being loved and surrounded by people, even if their admiration was only superficial. After losing it all, it just felt more difficult to be rejected by all those new people she was trying to create bonds with. Maybe she didn’t know it, but it was more probable that she didn’t want to acknowledge the fact that she was indeed yearning for attention. For people to be kind and compliment her.

She felt sick, just thinking about it, but it was a reality that she had yet to accept.

Finally returning at the mansion, Angel quickly parked the car inside the garage and returned to her room with all of her stuff, shutting herself in. Back inside her lodgings, she sat down and thought about what she had found out today about her trip to town. The X-marked didn’t quite feel like it, but she needed to know what was going on in there. And so, even if she disliked the idea, Angel pulled on the silver chain, calling for a maid.

One of the butlers came in instead, black hair slicked back against his head and brown eyes kind despite the stern angles of his face. He looked in his early twenties--most of the staff on the estate did--and he bowed as he entered.

"At your service, ma'am."

“Oh, hello.”

There was quite an impersonnal tension Angélique felt on herself as she looked at the butler. Just a bit older than she was, being a Subnatural himself without however bearing the same mark. Was it because he was serving under infamous Director Zhang’s extravagant name? Shackled by a cuff or not, Angel felt like their situations may not so much differ, but there was something unnerving behind their uptight manners.

“Please, Angel will do just fine.” The younger Aberration tried to relax, obviously uncomfortable around the presence of a butler. “I went to town earlier, and I spoke only for a few minutes to some of them. Could you… tell me the story about this place? Or is there someone else who would be more knowledgeable about this subject?”

"The story?" he looked surprised at the question, like the answer was obvious, before regaining his composure. "There's not much to say. We volunteered to stay here, but between the ones in this household and the ones in town...well, there are some differences in philosophy, so to speak. They aren't fond of us, but we do what we can to help. It's not right to just let them starve when supplies are low."

"I see… that’s why they thought I was there for. They thought I was sent to offer help on Zhang’s behalf.” Angel half-explained, more like musing to herself. There was definitively some good philosophy going behind that explanation, but it didn’t explain exactly the distrust between those two groups, or the origin of why those people were here instead of at the Institute instead.

“But aren’t you all Mages on this island? What did create this division? This philosophy you have been talking about? Can you tell me more about your difference in opinions?” Angélique let loose a wave of questions, one answer that managed to only create more questions.

The butler seemed taken aback by the sudden barrage of questions, raising an eyebrow at the concern. "Apologies if I seem...uncouth, ma'am, but this isn't a...sort of amusing story for general curiosity. Why are you interested, might I ask?"

There was clearly a hint of disappointment on Angel’s face as the butler dodged her question and instead inquired why she wanted to know. There was some sort of clear hesitation whether she should push the subject if it wasn’t something that was easy to tell, but it was a story she wanted to know nonetheless. Not out of amusement, but simply because it would just feel right to learn about this world she was introduced violently in.

“It’s just… I want to understand this world I’m living in. There are just so much things I don’t know about our situation. The Rogues, the Institute, this island. We’re all in the same boat, and yet we are just so… divided? It feels like the pieces are scattered everywhere. I can’t grasp any of it.” Angel fell silent for a pause.

“I… I know we are supposed to be some sort of combat slaves, but why all of this extravagant treatment? Who are you guys? You live secluded from USARILN on this island, yet known to Zhang? It just doesn’t make sense to me. At least… I’m ignorant to it all, and that’s what scares me. To not know anything. How can I help people if I have no idea of the bigger picture? As it stands, I’m just a pawn playing soldier on a game of war against monsters. This… isn’t what I want. I just want to help everyone.”

“Please, can you help me understand?!

The butler sighed, but remained resolute. He knew this narrow-minded type--he had been this type some years ago.

"As much as I appreciate the idealism, ma'am...I think you're a bit misguided. Not everyone needs your help, so pardon me once more, but that's...quite arrogant of you. If that's all you'd like of me, I'll politely decline this line of questioning. Is there anything else I can help with, ma'am?"

Perhaps not everyone, but if she wasn’t willing to help, should she just leave it to the others? What if the others weren’t willing either? If everyone, the whole world, were thinking that way, then where was the good in the world? Maybe that’s the answer she was looking for all along. This world was doing bad, not only because of the monsters, but because only a handful of souls were willing to help. What would have happened if every single Mages; Precursors, Animi, Ardor, Arbiters and Aberrations banded together to repel the monsters? Would they see an end to this plague one day? It was wishful thinking, but at this point, this really was the only solution Angel could believe in right now.

“Will the world even recover if we're just not willing to help? It’s dreams and ideals that keep hope alive, even as deluded it is.” Angel replied, clearly unhappy at the butler that refused to indulge in her understanding. “No, you can leave. I’m just being foolish, apparently. Have a good day.”

"You as well, ma'am." He left with another bow, leaving as quietly as he had arrived.

Shortly after the butler left her room, a pillow came flying straight at the door, making a thumping noise as it hit the wooden frame hard. Angélique only felt frustration rising. Why was everyone refusing to understanding her feelings? Was the world just dead cynic, or was she the one who was stupidly blind to it all?

She didn’t want to believe that her role in this world was to be a combat slave for the rest of her life until death came knocing at her door. There are to be something else she could do, right? She was given these powers that she did not want. She was part of a minority of Mages that would be considered special, as Ernest once remarked. She was part of a group that was claimed to be the next Precursors. Surely fate, or Dreamcatcher even, had destined her classmates and herself a different path in life.

If only she could be strong than an Animus. Than a Precursor. Than anything in the world.

Scream and shatter this world.

Chapter VII: Shackles

Angélique | Hazel

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟠, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟚𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @GreenGoat}

Another day was nearing the end. After spending yet another day on the road and getting herself something to eat after her trip, Angélique went to finish what little scraps of her meal was remaining into the music room. She had heard the mention of this part of the estate a while ago, but with everything that happened last week, the controverted rockstar never had the opportunity to visit the room, whether it was because she lacked the will to play music, meeting with other classmates or simply because she wanted to avoid everyone.

However, this week, Angel felt her spirits regaining its composure. While there had been a lot of moments of weakness in the past week, she also had meaningful discussions, some of which that actually helped in finding back a bit of her resolve and will. Today, the raven-haired singer felt somewhat good considering what happened, a rare occurrence ever since a month ago. While she was feeling this high-spirited, Angel took this opportunity to finally see what this music room was like.

It was far from what she had seen in Washington’s penthouse. Much less luxurious, but that trait only appealed the young musician more. While the whole estate setting was a bit too extravagant to her taste, the size of the room seemed just perfect to be left alone and play peacefully. Finishing her plate of food, Angel inspected the place, finding it a bit disconcerting to see pretty much the same fancy items, with none of the instruments she was so used to playing. Of course rich people didn’t care for such rustic sounds. Rock, country and metal were considered mostly barbaric styles by the high society. IT was unlikely to see instruments that could produce such music in such ludicrous homes.

And yet, her expectations were not completely true as, behind a bookshelf, there laid the silhouette of a black solid case shaped appropriately for a guitar. It was dusty, ancient even, suggesting it hadn’t been used, if not forgotten, for quite some time. Pulling the case out of its hiding place, the music adept blew over the dusty thing, sending a cloud of dirt floating in the air and emancipating a few sneezes and coughs from the curious Aberration.

Opening the case, Angel found quite the treasure. It was quite an old model of acoustic guitar, yet the brand that Angel recognized immediately suggested that the instrument was of superior quality, in fact quite valued despite its aged and even prized by collectors. Truly, Zhang was keeping quite the treasures into her manor, wasn’t she? It was a shame to not have this thing on display, instead of letting it decrepify behind some musical books.

Strumming the strings, Angel confirmed that the guitar hadn’t been used in quite some time, as the thing sounded quite wrong. It required some time to fine tune, playing with the strings and using her sharp musical ear to bring a correct harmonic back to the instrument.

After a while, Angélique was done tuning the strings, giving the guitar a test run as she strummed the strings into a melody. And as she kept playing and found herself satisfied with the sound of the wooden instrument, the singer added her golden voice to the smooth rhythm of the guitar.

“Ti~me, is the reason why we fight to stay ali~ve…”

Music.

Music that caught Hazel's ears. This time with a sweet voice that drew her in. Were she a bit more well read, a siren's call would be what she would describe it as. As it was, it was nothing but that sounds that grabbed her by her ears, a music with hands that pulled her towards that room. It was, unsurprisingly Angel. Smoothing down the black maid's outfit she had grabbed, she sat down and listened, observing the way Angel's fingers seemingly glide across the guitar, producing sweet melody.

Angel seemed to have lost herself into her music, as she paid no attention to the figure that had entered the room and sat beside her, or rather didn't see her coming in. As she finished, her sense of awareness seemed to have return as she caught the shadow of a silhouette in the corner of her sight, jumping in surprise as she realized a maid had been sitting next to her.

"Oh, sorry, was I being too loud?" came the question without much thought behind it, more like a discussion sparker.

But the maid wasn't any kind of maid. At least, for as far as the maids of the estate were concern.

"H-Hazel? What are you doing in that outfit?"

"I am sitting down, listening to you." Came the prompt answer.

Seeing as Angel had stopped singing, Hazel stood up and started examining the other instruments. There was one that was a smaller version of the instrument Angel was holding, but with an odd sweeping design on its thinner part and a stick with a string on it. Grabbing it by the thin part, where she assumed the handle was, and ran the stick across the length of the strings. It produced the most peculiar sounds she had ever heard, like a gutted cat wailling and screeching its last.

"I-I meant why are you wearing that."

Angel looked at the girl that had gone up to inspect the other instruments. She took questions quite literally, Angelique figured. She was soon cut out from her thoughts as the screeching made the actual musician in the room jump out of her skin, her ears not taking kindly to the abuse that they were going through. God, that sound only belonged to the deepest parts of hell.

"Hazel, wait!" Angel called out with a hand reaching for the bow. "That's not how you are supposed to play a violin. Want me to show it to you?"

Hazel nodded, before thinking back to Angel's previous question.

Why was she wearing these clothes? Was there something wrong with them? Did she have something else for Hazel, or did she just not like the outfit itself?

"I see. Is my outfit not to your liking? Then..."

She left no mistake as to what she was going to do, as she started to unbutton her top.

Oh god... was she going to start stripping just like that in front of Angel? In front of grown soldier dudes that kept following her around all-day long? Angelique hurried onto Hazel's robes, fastening the buttons back.

"Nononono, I didn't mean that either. I just thought it was weird on you, since you're not a servant in here and all." The raven-haired singer paused, glancing over the general appearance of her exhibitionist classmate. Frankly enough, the maid's outfit looked surprisingly good on her. Then again, the brown-haired girl always wore robes, which at this point made her sort of like the class' reference for this kind of clothing. Seeing something similar to her style yet different from her usual brown garments was refreshing, to say the least.

"Actually, quite the opposite. It looks good on you." Angelique sighed, glancing back at the girl's face and trying to make out the eyes in hiding behind those bangs. "You shouldn't remove your clothes as soon as somebody tells you they don't like it though. At least, return to your room to change clothes if it happens, alright? Not that you should care anyway. If you like what you wear, screw the others' opinion. Just wear what you feel you want to wear."

"I see." Hazel paused for a moment, pondering what she said. "Then, please continue to play the biolin."

Opinions... For a moment there, there was a small spark of surprise and warmth, when Angel complimented her. What it was, and why that was was far beyond her understanding for a moment. All she knew was that it felt good.

She picked up a second violin, though she still held it in a vice grip along with the bow.

"Violin, with a 'Vee'" Angelique corrected her fellow Aberration. "Alright, for starters, you have to know how to hold the instrument. Here, let me show you."

Having watched Lilianna playing in Washington, and experimented a few times in the music room with the various high-class instruments back there, Angel assumed the appropriate stance to play the violin; back straightened, the handle gripped lightly from underneath, cello brought to her neck and bow elegantly brought to the strings of the wooden instrument. The musician Mage kept that stance, waiting for Hazel to imitate her as she gave her a glance.

Wordlessly Hazel took up the same pose as well, though her grip on the instruments remained tight. She looked expectantly back at Angel. Was this some sort of procedure for making the same music that drew her in to this room? Already she was impatient to continue, her fingers twitching in anticipation of sawing vigorously across the strings.

"Relax..." Angel sighed, taking notice of Hazel's crisped figure. "Slide the bow along the strings. It doesn't need to be done so forcefully. Only a slight touch can make a good enough note, like this."

Angel's hand moved the bow across the strings of the violin, emancipating a low-pitched but precise note. "The slower you draw the bow on the string, the longer your keep the note. Change the position of the bow to touch different strings to make different notes. Same for your fingers holding the violin's head." The young virtuoso put emphasis on the holding part, leaning towards Hazel to show her fingers had been holding down a few strings. To show what she meant, Angel played haphazardly a few notes, of different pitch and different lengths. The music came out as a random mess, as Angel never truly played a violin all that much, but the notes were somewhat precise.

Following Angel's lead, she started sawing on the violin, first a long note, and then several halting ones. Trying to figure out what sort of noises she could make, Hazel methodically started to explore different strokes on different spots. Amidst the cacophony of noises, she turned halfway to Angel.

"Are you afraid of me?"

There was nothing else, but her gaze at Angel's face, even as she continued to saw at the violin.

Angel clearly didn’t expect this sort of question as her violin squeaked a wrong note, sounding very much like what Hazel had been playing.

“I… don’t know. Perhaps ‘afraid’ isn’t the right word. ‘Cautious’ or ‘wary’ might describe it better.”Angélique replied, looking thoughtful as she stopped playing.

“I mean, The ‘you’ right now is alright. Sure, you are a bit awkward, but really is it any worse than what I am?” Angélique tried to force a chuckle at her self-derision, aware that she was good at fucking up so perfectly when talking to others. “It’s more that I fear the other ‘you’. The one in battle. The one that slapped Emma across the floor as if she was a mere doll, during the game we had a few weeks back at the Institute. The you who attacked and tried to kill Christmas, Ernest and I at Wisford.”

Angel paused, looking at Hazel. “I’m sorry. It’s not that I want to sound mean. It’s just… I can’t figure you out. I don’t know what to expect the next time we’ll be together on the battlefield.”

"I see." Arranging the notes she found, Hazel started playing them from lowest to highest, over and over again. "Marcus is afraid of me as well."

Concentrating, she started drawing out each note as she went over them. Slower and slower, there was an oddly melancholic quality to it, even if it was just a bunch of note arranged from low to high.

"There is just one of me. And I do not remember attacking Christmas, Ernest or you." Hazel stopped playing. "I see. So that was why I was in that hospital bed."

Listening to Hazel playing, there was something in there. Whether Hazel knew it or not, she had an ease of understanding music like few ever had at their beginning. “You’re quite a natural at this.” Angel commented at her classmate’s playing.

So she wasn’t the only one who had been discussing with her. It came as no surprise, considering his nature. Knowing him, he had probably been telling her pretty much the same thing as she was saying right now.

“Perhaps, but I think there’s more to ourselves than we think. Something we still don’t know about our Stigma. How else could we explain your bout of rage that you can’t remember? Why does Zoe feel this irresistible urge to kill anyone close to her? Why do I feel this uncontrollable anger that makes me want to tear the world? There’s something… inside of us that wasn’t there before. Something that wants us to destroy without even caring about it. I can’t fathom why we are taking pleasure in doing this…”

Angel paused, remorseful for the things she had done, but also feeling for those who lost their battle to their destructive impulses. Truly, what an unsightly thing that was their mark.

“I’m sorry for yelling at you in Wisford. I shouldn’t have said these things to you. Emma told me that you pushed us to protect us from the incoming danger. I was just so… angered that I lost the use of half my gear and having my private parts exposed, it felt sort of humiliating. I let wrath cloud my judgement and I didn’t understand what you were trying to do.” Angélique chuckled bitterly at the memories, still remembering how the cold breeze felt as it brushed on her ass cheek and inner thigh.

Hazel just remained silent as Angel contemplated their existence. It was far beyond her understanding; she had come to accept it as part of herself, after all — it felt good — it wasn't something she can just cut out and throw away.

"Do not worry. I am used to such things." The memories of that plain white room came to her, odd materials she could not destroy, music playing at designated times of the day, even the experiments she ran through and the exercises they ran her through. And sometimes what would happen if she didn't meet their expectations. "... even beatings if it makes you feel better."

She spoke the last sentence under her breath, with a faraway look. Putting the violin down, she stood up and picked up the guitar, before handing it to Angel.

"Play this?"

“God, Hazel no! Beating someone just doesn’t solve anything, as enticing as it can be.” Angel replied to the brunette’s last comment.

Really, just what kind of upbringing did this girl come up from? Was she the kind of girl to be disciplined with a rough beating whenever she was displeasing her parents? It sort of infuriated the raven-haired metalhead to think that such people exist, even if she should have known better, considering what was happening everywhere across the world, especially the violence aimed at Subnaturals.

Surprised, Angélique picked up the guitar Hazel brought to her. Did she prefer the way guitar sounded? Well, considering the young musician knew about next to nothing about violins, it was natural the guitar sounded way better when it was one of the instruments she had mastered the most.

Angel took the piano’s bench and set it between herself and Hazel, taking one half for sitting on. “Still, I’m sorry for what happened. You’re just going to have to accept my words as a proper apology.” Angel grinned, tuning the guitar once more before strumming the chords for a test play.

“Do you have a song in mind? I know a lot, given I used to do requests before.”

"No." Came the prompt reply. "I do not know any music."

Still, Hazel sat beside Angel, waiting patiently for her to play the guitar again, and perhaps even sing. Her eyes, once again, was locked onto her hands, the way she gripped the guitar, and how it would move across the strings.

Following after the melancholic style Hazel seemed to have been so naturally proficient at playing, Angel’s fingers moved across the strings of the guitar slowly, sometimes frantic, a mix of the acoustic versions of some rock songs she had taken a liking to play. And as Hazel expected, the singer eventually added her voice the song, making it feel like both went hand in hand and contributed to making the song whole.

Eventually, after a while and her song ended, Angel turned to Hazel, looking pensive.

“Say, Hazel. Is there… anything we can do to help you if you ever lose control again? I mean, you’re our classmates, I don’t want any of us having to resort to injure you to stop you, or have them shoot you. Surely there’s something that could be done?”

"Help me?" Hazel tilted her head slightly.

It was quite an odd turn after such a song. How her voice sounded, how she moved, the way she seemed to shine as she sang. A question like this after a show like that caught her off guard, enough that her mind went blank for a moment. The words of one of the employers at the Plant echoed in her minds.

"She's a clockwork toy, wind her up enough and she takes action with explosive force. But once she winds down, she stops and drops."

"I'm an explosive clock, explode and I stop," came her answer. She paused for an uncomfortably long moment before continuing. "The collar will automatically shut me down after a time as well."

A ticking time bomb…

“I… see….” Angel replied to Hazel’s analogy.

So there was nothing to do for her? Just wait until she explodes? How many lives could she reap before her collar could zap her out? They had been lucky no civilian stood next to Hazel when she lost it. But then again…

Maybe you should be the one who needs to be collared…

Angélique’s green eyes lowered to Hazel’s collar, her look growing dark as she heard one of its purposes. Was it the fate awaiting all those Aberrations who were considered that unstable? Collared and put down to sleep whenever they lost control? It was hard to tell if it was any better than the actual suppressing cuff around their ankle.

The raven-haired Aberration brought a hand to her neck, suddenly feeling the presence of her leather collar around her throat. “Doesn’t it bother you? To be living with that… thing around your neck?”

"It does not. Just as it does not bother me to wear these cuffs." Tilting her head questioningly, Hazel asked in return. "Do you not wear the same thing?"

“N-no. It’s just…”

For fashion? To hide something?

“a plain leather one.”

"Then, does it bother you to wear it?" Hazel moved in closer to Angel, staring directly at her, as if watching for her reaction.

Angel’s eyes evaded Hazel’s, which seemed to try and stare through her smoked shades. She never wore a collar before. This habit only had begun two months ago, when her mark appeared, to hide it to the public. Even though she was revealed as an Aberration, why was it so hard for her to take it off?

“I… I don’t know anymore… “

"I see." Her hands stretched out towards the collar. "Then, you won't mind if I take this off?"

Angélique offered no response, her face frozen in uncertainty as her hand absent-mindedly touched the leathery material of her own shackle.

Hazel's hand felt around the collar, searching for the unlocking mechanism. For a moment, she drew in close, holding both hands behind Angel's neck, trying to work the clasp. With a barely audible click, the leather strap fell onto her hand as she held it up in front of her.

"See?"

No more suffocating pressure…

A weight seemed to be lifted off Angel’s neck as the warmth of the collar left her. She could feel a fresh breeze wash over her throat, the warm touch of her skin on her fingertips as her hand reached out for the now exposed mark.

The black-haired Aberration’s gaze fell onto the collar in Hazel’s hands, then trailed up to Hazel’s face. So innocent, just like a child, like Emma said before. The girl probably didn’t realize the burden she had just removed from Angélique.

As if to express her earnest feeling of gratefulness, the emotional Aberration approached Hazel and wrapped her arms around the younger woman for a warm hug.

Angel could feel some tears of relief welling up into her eyes as she whispered a faint “Thank you.” Into the girl’s ear.

"Eh?" Hazel had no idea what to do as Angel enveloped her in a hug. It wasn't a grapple — so she probably shouldn't flip her over — but a simple hug. Slowly she wrapped her arms around Angel, following her example.

"Y..you're welcome," was all she could say.

Chapter VIII: Burdens

Angélique | Christopher

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟛𝟘, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟚𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Dragonmancer}

Another day of blazing the roads that started to become very familiar to the Aberration driver. While the road started to grow ever the more monotonous, there was always room to reflect on her past actions and every new discussion she was having with others. Just like how recently Angélique started to enjoy the cool breeze brushing on her naked neck, now that Hazel had removed the leather collar that used to serve as both a mental shackle and a mean to hide in vain what she was.

After reaching the manor quite late today, the raven-haired driver went to cook dinner and eat by herself before heading out to wander in the manor. She had grown fairly accustomed to the layout of the estate, but there were places she hadn’t been using at all so far. One such place was the lounge that served as the billiard room. It had been a while since the last time the ex-rockstar touched a billiard table. She remembered often going to the bar to play a few games with the guys of her band after a good day of work at the recording studios.

Angel didn’t suspect however that there was already someone inside the room as she opened the door to the lounge.

Chris had been in the lounge playing billiards in his spare time. He had made the first shot to break open the formation when Angelique had arrived. "Oh..Hey whats up?". He did is best to sound 'normal', but there was a hint of emptiness in his voice. The incident with Marcus the other day still had him shaken up, and he had been hoping that his time of lonesome self-pity wouldn't be interupted. Now that Angelique was here, he did his best to hide his guilt and shame, perhaps he could get her to leave soon enough.

"What brings you here?"

"Oh, hello Christopher. Didn't think there was someone here." Angel replied, closing the door behind her and visibly surprised to see the Dragon Mage already in the room. But maybe it wasn't so bad. They both haven't talked to each other for a while now. Tonight could be a good opportunity to get some news from him.

"Nothing much. I was bored, and I haven't checked up this place yet." The obsidian-haired young woman added as she walked further inside the room, admiring the furniture and especially the billiard table.

"How about you?"

There was a pause before his next shot. Should he tell her. He needed to let someone know at least, the potential danger he could be. "Oi, can you promise me something?" He said with a voice that suddenly turned gravely serious.

Angel leaned against the table, observing Chris' next shot that never came as he took this most serious voice with a foreboding question. This promised to be an eventful evening indeed.

"Sorry Chris, but I can't do promises anymore. A lot of those seem to keep being broken recently. But whatever it is, I will try to uphold to it, depending on what you are asking." The Aberration replied firmly in kind, replacing the shades onto her eyes.

There was a sigh as he debated upon if he should tell her. "I just want to know that....If I were to lose control in battle or whatever, you wouldn't hesitate to kill me, right?" And then, a shot with the cue ball sent two striped balls into the pockets of the table; As if the idea of his own death didn't bother him.

Angélique frowned as she heard this. Losing control? What the hell? Why did even the Arbiters of her class always keep talking about losing control? Weren't they the ones who were supposed to not be fucked up by a Stigma and be more stable? Was there something White Streaks had that nobody else saw before?

Sighing, Angel already didn’t like how this discussion was going. Silently, she took a cue from the racks and stepped at the opposite end of the table. "Now that's clearly something I won't promise. Whatever you are speaking of, I won't kill anyone in my class. I can try to disable, but not kill. There are other ways to deal with loss of control."

Angel's face was resolute. She had kept talking to everyone about how she was willing to do everything for her friends, even if it she wasn't will to kill any more people deep inside of herself. Killing a classmate was by far something she ever considered.

"What the hell are you saying that for anyway? Aren't you supposed to be one of those in control?" Angelique asked, her finger pointing to where the Arbiter's mark could've been on her face if she had one.

She didn't really know the urges he used to have had in his dragon form, primeval instincts that have since been dampened but are still faintly present within him. Moreover she had yet to learn of the incident the other day involving him and Marcus it seemed. "I don't just take the appearance of a monster, Angel.." He paused, as if the very thought of it sent shivers down his spine. "There's something...more...about it...Its like I.." Another pause, the more he spoke the more he started to remember the worst of the instincts he felt. "One of those monsters at D.C. Spoke to me."

Angélique immediately recognized the words, the speech, the way he was voicing those. A monster masquerading as an Arbiter.

"The instincts to destroy, right? That urge to kill, to maim, to bring the world on its knees?" It was less like a question and more like confirmation, a reflection of what she was living with every day. "What did it say?"

He took his shot to knock out another ball, his momentary silence seemed to confirm the first question, even though he didn't audibly admit it. After that pause, he responded. "It just said...'Why'...Like...it was confused…or something...Maybe confused isn't the right word...That’s all I heard before I was rendered into an ice sculpture and nearly fell to my death." He had wanted to forget he had even heard that voice speak to him, he didn't want to tell anyone, not even Siena, of it. The very thought of the possibility that those...things...were sapient only felled him with more terror and uncertainty.

Angel was confused by story. It didn't say much about the whole thing. Hell, she wasn't even there to know what was going on. "Are you sure it wasn't a Rogue? Remember how monstrous Factory was, and he was a Mage. Maybe that creature was the same."

He shook his head. "I want to believe that, but...The way it sounded…something just....just felt off.." He shook his head. "Maybe I imagined it...I don't…I don't want to think about that anymore...That’s not the worst of what had happened anyway...The other day I got into a fight with Marcus...At one point I got so angry that I literally roasted his leg...It wasn't as if I planned for him to rewind the wound either, I just...The anger wanted blood."

"You fucking what?" Again, less like a question, but more like an angered confirmation. "What the fuck is wrong with you people? We just came out of this fucking hell, are given time to relax and think about ourselves and what we did. And this is all that you idiots find worthy of doing in the meantime? Punching each other in the face and in the guts on top of roasting body parts?"

If Angel had no restraint herself and haven't vowed to not harm her classmates, she would have taken the cue and rammed it onto Christopher's chest. But instead she stood there, wrath seething. "We're a team and all that keeps happening is everyone fucking backstabbing each other or one-upping them in the face. Why? Why can't we all cooperate? There is so much to try and keep ourselves alive from. We don't need to fucking start worrying about killing each other on top of that."

He shook his head. "I know, it’s easier said and done though with all the bullshit. Believe me when I say the last thing I want to do is kill a fellow student, that’s why I wanted to know if I could rely on you if I fall down that path." He wasn't fazed by her anger; frankly he was expecting it, given the weight of his actions.

"No, you won't fall down that path. This is not your path. Learn to calm yourself down, or find alternatives. I'm the worst when it comes to speak about that, because I have trouble dealing with this," Angelique pointed to the mark on her neck, now bare to see in plain view now that her choker was no more "but if I started to look for alternatives to deal with it, then you should damn well be able to find something for you as well. Fuck, if you need support, I'll be more than happy to give you some. But don't go around asking people to kill you, because I won't accept it. Face it, Chris. No matter what you think, we need you, just as much as you need us."

There was a pause, perhaps some relief, that he felt needed. It was a feeling foreign to him thus far, so he had trouble hiding a faint smile for the brief moment. "...Thanks...Well…I'll try. No, I'll succeed in taming those instincts...Thanks for the advice..." The cue ball hit ricocheted off of one ball to the next. "I can't use that as an excuse though." He adjusted another shot, which missed its mark. "What I did to Marcus is inexcusable. I don't mind if he hates me forever and can't find to accept my apology, he has his full right to do so...but…I need some time alone, maybe I can try to tame my power better in solitude for now."

“You fucked up, true, but at least you know you did wrong, and that’s what separates you from a monster. Monsters don’t have regrets when it comes to eating and killing people.” Angel tried to put some light into the situation, even as angered as she was about the whole situation. “We fucked up, but we shouldn’t seek forgiveness. We have to remember our mistakes, so we can work hard to never repeat those again.”

“If that’s how you feel is best, it’s up to you. Personally, I prefer working with someone when it comes to using my power. Finding a way to make things work together for the future, you know.” She gave the boy a glance with a mischievous smirk “Plus, I can’t be called an Angel if I can’t conquer my fear of literal heights.”

He scoffed a bit at her last remark. "And what is a dragon without its pride?" There was a sense of humor in his voice; the whole conversation had de-escalated his anxieties already. "I'll ask for help when I need it, don't you worry."

“And Angels are supposed to be pure, but then look just how far I let myself fall from grace…” Angélique’s statement however was bitter and sorrowful. “Fine. Just... don’t let that ‘pride’ of yours get in the way to your friends. Trust me. I know what it is, and where it leads.”

He gave a solemn nod at her remark and advice. "No one's perfect, anyway." He didn't bother to finish the game as he hung up his cue stick instead, and walked over to the couch to lie down on.

"Being flawed doesn’t excuse me of murdering innocent..." the Aberration replied, muttering these words to herself as she watched as Christopher just left his cue behind and went to lie down on one of the couches.

Was he for real?

"Hey, Kilgharrah, get back here! I was waiting after you to play a few matches against you. Are you going to forfeit your chance of showing me up?”

Kilgarrah? Ah right, that was his 'media' nickname apparently. "Fine fine your 'holiness', I'll play you a few matches."

"Can't leave a woman hanging, young man." Angélique chuckled as she prepared the table for a game. "Speaking of girl, how is it going with Siena? Asked her out yet?"

"Well I confessed my feelings." He went for another strike, but missed and shot the eight ball into a pocket. "Damnit." He muttered. "She wasn't...direct. But I can tell at least that her response wasn't a yes. I haven't entirely given up on her, but I'm not going to force something like that into our friendship, things got a bit awkward there already." There was a bit of silence as he prepared to set up the next game, organizing the balls and straightening them with a triangle. "I just wish someone could make her happy at least....I can tell she has a lot of scars, from what exactly I couldn't tell you, but with the past events that happened this week and before it certainly hasn't helped her."

"Hmm..."

Honestly, Angélique would have been disappointed by the outcome of their story, but after what Chris had revealed her, she wasn't sure if Siena needed to deal with the dramatheurge that was Christopher as a lover. But then again, Allison had been willing to give her a second chance and reciprocate her love, so why Chris wouldn’t be given one too?

"Strange, isn't it? The world, hell even the Mages believe we Aberrations have it hard, constantly dealing with our shit. But the more I look at things, the more I see you Arbiters too are dealing with some crap. Yes... I've noticed Siena's behavior. And what happened in her room a tonight kind of gave it away for everyone there."

Angel took place next to the table, aligniging her cue to the white ball and smashed it with precision and swiftness, bringing the balls all around the table and pocketing the solid green one. "I can't know for sure either... but yeah, I wish she'd find someone to be comfortable with."

He nodded once. "Were all cursed, really. I don't believe any one has it worse per say, as we all have our own crosses to bear. I'm obviously not too fond of…well…Brent and Marcus, but at the end of the day they are still in my team, they are a part of me. I just have to force myself to get along with them in more casual settings...Like a sibling you don't like, I suppose...I just hope they have the same philosophy."

"They need to. We all need to. Otherwise, we won't last for long in this world. We need to be united to survive." Angel agreed as she shot the white ball on a stripped one, nearly pocketing another of her balls with a ricochet. "Damn... I got rusty."

Chris knocked a single one of his colors out on his turn, but missed the next shot. Knowing my twisted luck, I'll be forced to live while everyone else gets killed off in front of me again." Chris muttered, mostly to himself, and was barely audible. Despite the low voice, there was a sense of humor to it, as if he was mocking himself out of pity. Between what had happened in D.C., his talk with Siena, and Now Angelique, his inner demons were starting to show again.

"I suppose I can't get you to tell me, Chris?" Angel asked as she took the shot she missed earlier, managing to pocket her ball but also one of Chris'.

There was just pure silence as Chris went for his shot. As if the room had gotten cold, his hands were shaking and trembling despite what he tried to keep as a calm and 'default' expression of his trademark scowl. He completely missed the shot. Damn He didn't mean to let that out. "Tell you what, now?" He asked as he stood up straight, trying to play the ignorant card to avoid the question as he awaited for her next play.

Angel was no oblivious to the half-assed shot that seemed to be out of place for a player of his caliber. Walking over to the white ball, she gave the Dragon Mage a look as she placed herself on a good angel. "Nevermind. If you don't want to talk about it yet, it's okay. Like you said, we all got our inner demons to deal with. Sooner or later, maybe you'll find yourself comfortable enough around someone to share your story."

Opposite to Chris, her shot was straight, unforgiving, violently pocketing one of her own ball.

Chris shook off his anguish with Angelique's comfort, but he still felt a bit uneasy. "Everyone that had their rooms assigned with mine is dead, you know that right?" He finally choked up. It was just the tip of his turmoil, but he never expected to let anyone know of it. A sign of weakness he wasn't entirely sure he wanted to confess, but perhaps such a conversation could save him from the void a little longer.

"Y-yeah, I'm sorry about that..." Angélique's next shot wavered, her ball bouncing against the edge of the table as expected but never hitting its intended mark. How strange, to have tried to make her resolve stronger with their deaths, but she had started forgetting them so easily. Even Aaron, who had disappeared but was never confirmed dead.

"..." He went for another ball down the whole as everything that had been piled up for a decade now started to poor out like a broken damn. "And that’s just when I got here. Before that? I lost my first and only friends up until now when I was little in the woods, almost shat myself from being nearly eaten myself, got this DAMNED mark on my face." Anger, as he thrusted the cue on the cue ball hard enough to cause its shaft to shatter. "I lived in isolation for a while, My family knew but tried to hide it. My neighbors, other close ones, I think they knew too, but kept it...ya know…hushed..." There was a period of him slowing down as his hands trembled. "And then they all died too...every single one of them. I was the only survivor of my town thanks to this...Damned Curse, and the military 'took me in'." Exhausted, he nearly collapsed as he leaned onto the wall.

"Woah, easy!" Angel rushed to Chris' side as he looked like he would fall to the ground. Swinging his arm over her shoulder, she led him to the couch he was supposed to be laying on earlier. "I... I'm sorry, I didn't know..."

His experience a real personal tragedy. Not that Angélique didn't know what it felt like to be in the eye of the storm, but her loved ones never died because of her. If they did, the fallen idol didn't know what she would have done with her life. Now this all explained why Chris was so moody all the time and rejected everyone else.

"Hey, you alright? what happened to you?"

"No one was supposed to know...I didn't want to tell.." A sigh. "No...its fine...I'm fine...Just a bit...all those years of keeping that to myself..." He gripped her shoulder as he stood upright again, having regained some exposure. "Don't tell anyone about that, alright?"

"Don't worry, I'll kept that only for myself, until the day you decide you are ready to share it with others. She reassured the young man with an apologetic look, taking his hand and placing it down on his lap. "Just... rest. We'll get to have more matches sometime else."

Chris nodded. "I just want to be clear, the last thing I need is pity. Don't treat me any differently because you're aware of that."

Chris... it's not pity that I feel. It's understanding." Angel corrected him with a look meant to defy his harshness.

"I don't want you thinking I'm telling you all this so that I compare myself to you, but..." the raven-haired Aberration swallowed hard. "I know what it's like to live a tragedy up close. I... accidentally killed my very own fans during a concert. I wasn't aware of the strength of my powers... and people paid for it with their lives..."

It was something hard for Angel to tell, her voice sometimes coming out choked as she tried to untangle the knot in her throat.

He shook his head. "Like I said, no one has had it worse than the other, I consider are burdens equals. We live cursed lives Angelique, and you clearly went through the same hardships I have even if different in scale. I'm sure everyone has had that same...anguish...I appreciate that you opened up to me too with that, though. "

"I thought I'd share. It wouldn't be fair of me to know your burdens without letting you know about mine."

Angel took a seat onto a nearby recliner, relaxing into the comfort of the char. She felt like her body was getting heavier as well, but her mind actually felt lighter as well. Did it really felt that good, to open up her mind to those she could trust? But then again, what if Christopher turned out to be like Ernest and Brent?

We've come a long way, huh? Who'd know we'd be sitting in an estate in the middle of the wood and talking about our problems, when only a month ago we'd barely be able to look at each other in the eye while having dinner."

The black-haired singer let out a half-hearted chuckle. There was something nostalgic and sorrowful in her tone as she recalled Green Team's dinner. Aaron and Savannah...

"Guess that’s just what war does to ya." Chris sighed with a smirk himself.

Before long, Angel fell silent in the recliner, and quickly enough returned to her own little personal land of nightmares, tired of all the weeks' events happening, and her own lack of proper sleeping working itself into her body. Too bad that, even in her relaxed state of mind, she will never find peace in her slumber.

Chapter ?: A Mountain of Sins

---

？？？ / / ？？？ / / ？？？ / / ？？？

---

It felt different this time, just like back in Washington. However, she wasn’t standing in a corridor, talking with her previous manager about success and profits. She was standing high atop a mountain, at the edge of a gloomy city of ruined manmade spires and cold concrete structures. There was no monsters to haunt her, no overwhelming battles to conquer. Nothing but large groups of individuals banding together at the feet of the mountain.

It was faint, but she could hear shouts. The more intently she listened, the angrier were the voices. She could barely make out what they were saying, but she could somehow understand them all.

“…murderer… betrayer… sinner… bitch… insecure… scared… die…”

As much as she hated them all, she couldn’t bring herself to scream at them. She had already caused to much suffering, she had enough. She just wished to be left alone in peace. She vowed to no longer user her voice to maim the innocents, however judgmental and wrong they were.

But when they saw she wasn’t moving from her mountainous pedestal and their words could barely reach her, they turned away, facing another group of people. Even from her viewpoint, she would recognize that second group of people; her friends, her rivals, her nemesis, her classmates. They shone ever so brightly, like a beacon of hope in this bleak world, but darkness was closing in on them. The insurgents that were assaulting her mountain in vain earlier turned their anger towards her friends, assaulting them with those same words as if they were rocks meant to stoning the death-sentenced. For a reason, those unjust words was hurting more than when they were thrown at her earlier.

With each passing word, the serene look on the girl’s face grew distorted into a darker expression, until hell had no fury like this woman’s scorn. She couldn’t stand hearing those words being uttered to her friends. As to bring order back, she shouted from high above on her mountain. But doing so had doomed them all. The insurgents were swept back from their feet and vanished into thin air, as well as her friends.

She only screamed more as she realizd what she had done. She had lost them, forever.

Looking down in shame, her eyes grew wide in horror. The mountain she was standing on, so tall and full of pride, was entirely made of bloodied and battered corpses. And on top of this macabre mound of bodies, the well-known silhouettes of her friends. With utmost horror, she realized that this entire time, she had been stepping directly onto the corpse of a brown-haired girl; her first love. Kneeling, she took the dead girl into her arms and desperately tried to shake her into life.

She screamed again. The world shattered all-around her.

The feathery wings on her back were stained in so much crimson that they seemed to have turned jet-black.

---

Angélique screamed herself awake. She was back, lying down underneath a tree, not too far from where she had parked the car and went to relax while watching the scenery. Her napping spot seemed to have grown so much brighter than when she had lied down earlier. Looking up, she now knew why.

Half of the tree’s branches and every single leaves on the tree had snapped from the great oak, draped all around the sleepy Aberration.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

Nah, Drag left the RP and as such closed the server.

Which, given the circumstances, I will take this opportunity to officially withdraw my character. Assume that at some point just before everyone departed for their mission that the Reaper just left and returned to his old duties after being disappointed by the gathered crew and Lancelot himself.

Knights of Evil (High Casual Fantasy Villain Group.)

If a therapy is only what is needed after hanging around 13 fair maidens and satisfy their needs, I'd be all up for it haaaaaaaaaahaha!

Seriously, Bart needs to relax his uptightness. Should pay a visit to their chambers.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

𝓢𝓮𝓬𝓸𝓷𝓭 𝓒𝓱𝓪𝓷𝓬𝓮𝓼

Chapter I: Accusations

Ernest | Angélique | Brent

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟙, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟘𝟝𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @banjoanjo @Erode}

At 5:00am, on the dot, a quickfire series of texts lit up Angelique's phone.

5am

Dont see you at the gym

Where are you

Angélique had been up all night, thanks to having slept throughout the whole trip to North Carolina and a bit more to compensate for her lack of sleep. She had considered joining Brent and Ernest at their usual training session, but she had ultimately decided to not come, thinking it was too soon to interact with her classmates. After what happened in Washington, she needed time to think upon everything that she had done, look toward the kind of future she really wanted to have.

And so, when she saw her phone lighting up to life from receiving new messages from Ernie, she looked at them but did not answer back.

Hey

Are

You

Still

Asleep

Or

Some

Thing

Again, a barrage of rapid-fire notifications rang loudly from Angel’s phone. No doubt, it was Ernie again for sure. She really didn’t want to go to the gym right now, not with the mindset of hers. Not with her inability to look at any of her classmates into the eyes without feeling guilt.

Determined to skip today’s training session, the Voice Mage pressed the power button on her phone, prompting it to shut down. Setting her phone aside on a night table, Angel let herself fall into the bed, staring at the ceiling.

Approximately five minutes later, a crack rang from the suite's door, followed by another one. Then it seemed Ernie gave up on throwing things at the entrance and decided wisely to pound loudly on the doorframe instead.

"Angelique's room, right?" his voice shouted, muffled slightly by the separation.

The tired Aberration rose up from her bed, sighing as she heard Ernest’ voice calling out from the other side of the door. God, he was persistent as hell, wasn’t he? There was no way she could slip away from this morning’s training session now that he was standing there. The creaking wood signaled her slow footsteps heading towards the door’s room, opening slowly as her half-naked form draped in bed sheets popped partially out from the door’s frame and naked forest-green eyes shot down towards Ernie.

“Just… hang on. I’ll go change myself…”

Her voice was surprisingly unconvincing, but she eventually came out of her room in workout attire, which was simply made of a cropped tank top, leggings and her hair tied in a tail.

The boy was barely affected by Angelique's initial lack of clothing, his narrowed eyes looking as if they were searching for something in her head rather than on her body. His stiffened posture and hand tightly clenched around the phone he'd thrown repeatedly at her door made it clear that something was different. But he obviously wasn't going to say what.

"Cool. Let's go," he turned, not bothering to check if Angelique was following.

There was something that made Angel immediately regret her decision. Was it actually from Ernest's passive aggressiveness, or because she was second-doubting her ability to talk to the others right now? Something seemed different in her friend. Did he got up from the wrong foot this morning, or was it because he was unpleased to have to come and get her? Either way, Angélique hoped Brent would simply keep himself occupied with Ernie by giving him more workout tips and training while Angel was doing her things from her own side of the gym.

---

The facilities available were decent enough, Brent supposed. Benches, dumbbell sets, bike machines, and treadmills consumed most of the space, while black exercise mats were laid side by side in one corner, a ‘how-to’ poster detailing various stretching techniques. Compared to the almost excessive amount of high-tech machines within USARILN East and the Hyatt Regency, it was lacking, but on the other hand, Brent had made do with nothing at all within La Plata.

It was a balance, really, something that was massively lacking from anything else in the last couple of days. Neither excessively good nor horrendously bad.

Really, he was sick of that bipolar bullshit. The arbiter bench pressed his own weight again, grunting as the metal bar laid centimeters over his chest before he pushed it back up slowly, relishing the tremors of his limbs. Consistency, that’s what he wanted.

Chaos, that’s what he got. Every. Single. Time.

A long breath heaved out as the barbell clanked against the restraints, before he rose up, rolling his shoulders. Amethyst eyes catching new arrivals within, the arbiter reflexively smiled at the familiar faces. "Morning," he said, "there's coffee in the corner, Ernie."

"Gross," Ernie replied though the boy moved to the corner anyway, mixing an alarming amount of cream and sugar into his caffeine.

Without saying a word, Angélique nodded to Brent before making her way to the dumbbells that were sitting in the corner of a room. She lost no time starting on her muscle training. Despite lacking enthusiasm, she wasn't here for half-assing her training though. She'd just do the exercises Brent had showed her back in Washington and La Plata on her own, hoping Ernie would be coached closely by Brent enough to leave her alone in her corner.

"You're both late today," the arbiter remarked, stretching his shoulder blades, "No sleep?"

"Yeah... slept enough on the way here yesterday. Was actually trying to just now." the raven-haired Aberration answered in-between two sets.

"Forgetting your workout pals so easily? That's rude," Ernie called from his corner, not even turning to face her, "I slept on the truck yesterday too. Kinda surprised you could, Banshee, after all the nonsense at D.C."

Angélique stopped suddenly, her eyes widening at the mention of Banshee. What the fuck? Did her voice really reach that far away? She wasn’t aware her power could extend to such distance, unless…

The cuffs. Someone had left their channel open, and it broadcasted to everyone else. Who could it have been? Emma? She was the only one she actually heard her voice coming from the cuffs back there from her team. Did she purposefully let her communication channel open, or was it only an accident?

Holy shit, just how much did everyone hear from this whole disaster? Worse, what did everyone actually think of her now that she said all these things? Now that explains why the atmosphere is so tense this morning, and Ernest’s behavior.

Angélique now felt cornered. Could it be that they wanted her out here to explain herself? “I… fainted from exhaustion. Apparently not even Christmas managed to heal that…”

It was a pitiful explanation. One that she didn’t wish elaborating on.

"Mmm, must be tiring," Brent said, pulling a few dumbbells from the rack, "Lots of screams needed for evacuation, eh?"

Shadow-boxing now, with weights attached. It was hard to get into kickboxing without a punching bag.

"That tiring? Are we sure about that?"

Ernie spoke nonchalantly, sitting on the machines but not quite starting his reps yet.

"Back at Wisford, I watched Christmas mist-heal a whole mob of people dying of broken bones and blood loss. I wouldn't expect his power to suddenly fall short when it came to his own classmates."

It suddenly felt overwhelming. From being cornered to assaulted on two sides by people she thought were her friends, she couldn’t bear it. Flashes inside her mind of that moment she was physically cornered by a few fans. Never again. If defiance was the way to protect oneself from danger, then she’d gladly seize them by the throats if it meant stop pushing her around.

“That’s enough!”

The bells dropped heavily on the ground as Angélique turned around to face her duo of aggressors, her tired expression quickly turning into one of anger. Her dull green eyes quickly flared to their bright emerald green hue, reflecting the growing inferno in her mind.

“You got something to say to me? Then fucking say it directly to my face instead of playing passive aggressive like fucking middle-school gossip girls!”

"Direct?" Ernie was grinning ear-to-ear now. The same smile from the alley with Christmas. The same from the house with David and Zoe. "You want 'direct'? Alright! Did you enjoy yourself at least, pounding all those Regs into the ground with your magic? How many did you kill before you even considered that it was a bad idea?"

As Ernie smiled, Brent's own disappeared, the intensity of his eyes burning a hole in the ground now that there was no buffer, no filter to interpret it from. "I," he began continuing on with his own reps, "didn't see what was going on at all. Hell, the news is somehow making you out as a big hero and all. But Angelic..."

There was a sudden urge to toss the barbell into a window, but such a violent, irrational outburst was easily restrained.

"...thought you didn't want to be a Banshee. Was I wrong?"

Was she that weak?

"Are you taking the path of least resistance after all?"

“What the fuck? I didn’t ki-“

Everything suddenly made sense. Ernest was sufficiently close to hear what she screamed, but probably haven’t seen the whole thing happening until after they were gone. Angélique could imagine someone arriving at the scene would’ve thought these people died of shattered eardrums from her own sonic screams. So that meant she was still seen as a monster after all, if only by her own teammates instead of the Regulars.

Their expression made her sick. The usual calm but smiling Brent now frowning at her, and then Ernie’s twisted grin at this whole scene. They truly sickened her. Even if she didn’t kill anyone directly, it was her responsibility to take from having provoked these people, the results ending up in a carnage in conjunction with her other teammates.

But if that was the way those two would treat the others should she slip and mention the others were as responsible as her, then she would rather take all the blame and save the others from this scene. All that remained was to sacrifice her friendship with those she thought were her closest friends…

Angélique’s burning wrath seemed to die down, replaced by a grim sense of cold determination. Her piercing eyes glared in Ernie’s direction. “After Marcus nearly got his face shattered by a brick, I decided I would rather sacrifice the insignificant lives of a few dozen Regulars if it means protecting what few prodigies we have in our classes. I’d rather see the whole fucking world die before someone from our class dies in front of me again.”

Then Angel shifted her gaze to Brent. “If becoming a monster is what it takes to make sure my classmates survive, then I’m willing to walk that path. If nobody wants to protect themselves from the fucking injustice this world put us through, then I’ll take the fall and be the one to pull that fucking trigger.”

Protecting them? He couldn't fucking take this.

Ernie shot up form his machine. One rough hand grabbed her shoulder while she was looking at Brent while the other threw a punch towards her jaw with all of the boy's might.

Danger… assaulted…again…

As soon as Ernie’s hand made contact with Angel’s shoulder, she jerked around quickly enough to see that fist being raised towards her face. With the reflexes of only someone that had been trained to protect herself, Angélique threw her arm up to catch Ernest’s, placing one of her leg directly behind him with the intent to sweep his leg and use the counterbalance to throw him down to the ground.

The rope was summoned instantly. The impact of the floor did nothing and Ernie followed his fall with a kick aimed at her knee. Meanwhile, his hand grasped around for the dumbbell Angel had dropped.

Being this close to Ernie didn't leave Angel the freedom of movement to effectively see nor dodge that kick. When it connected to her knee, Angel could feel herself buck down on the other knee. But her combat reflexes and her unwillingness to actually use violence against a classmate made her jerk back away from him. When she saw him reaching for the weight, she thought he had lost it in the wake of his Stigma.

"What the fuck is wrong with you, Ernest? Snap out of it!" her voice boomed all around Ernest's ears.

Before he could actually get back up, Angel scurried to the other end of the room, far away from both Ernie and Brent. Was it their plan for this morning all along? Assaulting a fellow classmate? Images of the past flooded her brain, invading her senses. She was going to get molested again, wasn't she? Not this time. She'll die before they even touch a single fucking strand of her jet-black hair.

Hazel eyes mocked the girl as Ernie stood to his full height. That was rather reckless. But he couldn't say he felt sorry for letting it out. The smile only taunted further before he sighed and willed his hand to drop the dumbbell back on its rack. If Brent wasn't still here would he have gone further?

"There's nothing to snap out of, Banshee. It's fine. Nice moves though, how come you didn't use those instead of bursting dozens of Reg eardrums?"

"Do you even fucking listen when we talk to you? Do you even expect someone to protect themselves with martial arts when you have at least fifty fucking individuals throwing bricks and stones at you?" Angel snapped back, slowly rising to her feet, the dull pain in her knee slowly subsiding.

" 'Protecting' again! They're Regulars, Angel, what the fuck did you need protection from? Did Marcus' rewinds not work? Did Determination just trounce off somewhere? Grant's chains couldn't toss up another wall? This team took on rogue mages and a robot beast invasion. Do you seriously expect me to believe that a couple of pebbles was what finally snapped an entire team of subs?"

He refused it. The chance that the evac team didn't just slaughter dozens not just because they were monsters, but because they were weak.

" 'Sacrifice insignificant lives'. 'Prodigies', my FUCKING ASS. Don't bullshit me like that. It's a fucking wonder Zhang hasn't heard how stupid this all is and sent a firing squad for it."

I would rather sacrifice the insignificant lives of a few dozen Regulars if it means protecting what few prodigies we have in our classes.

I’d rather see the whole fucking world die before someone from our class dies in front of me again.

If becoming a monster is what it takes to make sure my classmates survive, then I’m willing to walk that path.

Oh god. Oh god oh god oh god oh god.

Blood rushed through his veins, heart pounding a war beat as his thoughts discarded themselves, twisting and degenerating into a messy ball of emotions that he could hardly process, hardly digest. It was sickening, more so than Emma's madness, more so than Callan's mistakes, more so than his own ineptitudes. Even as Ernie and Angelic began brawling, their respective abilities absolutely worthless when pit against one another, Brent remained still, sheer force of will keeping him from acting before he did anything rash, anything uncalled for.

Zoe made sense. She struggled with her stigma constantly, the implications of her rotting power both great and horrible. She would be willing to fight the world to keep those close to her safe, but she would also be willing to fight herself to do so. And even then, she never fully drowned in the depths of her violent instincts. Never indulged.

But what was Angelic then? What was the person who a week ago cried over her status of the 'Banshee' of Montreal', and, a day ago, fully embraced such an identity? What was this person, who hadn't even held her power for a whole season, and yet no longer saw herself as 'human'?

Was it that hard, to retain one's humanity?

"Ernie, Angelic," Brent said, looking at both and neither. "Stop. Sit"

He envisioned it. Steel bars twisting around Angelic's throat until her head popped. A ton of weights welded together, crushing Ernie into the ground until his magic disappeared and everything broke. He envisioned it, and let it go.

"No theatrics. No exaggerations. No emotion. Angelic, I did not see what happened. I only heard. Lead me through the events that carried evac team from being attacked by a mob of regulars to evacuating them."

He had already read those first-person reports that the 'people in charge' had dismissed as 'lies and slander'.

"No bullshit. Please."

”Fuck you, Ernest” was the only thing Angélique answered back to Ernie, her voice half-convincing. He didn’t believed her words. Neither did she. The raven-haired Aberration was nearing the end of her rope. She didn’t know what else to say to convince those two that she was the sole culprit in this tragedy. She was accepting their hate, just as she had started accepting hers. But the more this dragged on, her act was starting to waver.

Then Brent’s calm demeanor struck hard. The silence he commanded through rational mind and unwavering will, it made Angel grew silent, taking deep breaths as he asked for her version of what had happened. Angélique didn’t know if Brent had heard the story from another member of the evacuation team, but if he didn’t then that gave her the edge of explaining the story and hopefully he will be satisfied enough to not poke around the others.

Sighing, Angélique sat against the wall at the far side of the gym, easing the pain in her knee. Her voice grew low, and being that far away, Angélique used her projection ability to make her voice reach out for Brent and Ernest.

“It started shortly after we separated from the hotel. At first, we insisted Sander to leave Christmas to us so he could return to the battle and help the others already there. As always, he was being a butthead and took off with the commanding officer and Christmas towards the evacuation point.” Angel recalled the initial events that led the team to be split up.

“After a while, I figured that we had a hard time moving among all the fleeing Regulars, being bumped and forced aside while we were all carrying wounded and incapacitated people. So I ordered everyone to get into an empty semi that was left abandoned. Obviously, the roads were blocked due to traffic, so I’ve had Grant use his chains and Emma use Determination to push aside cars while Siena was lifting cars away.”

The raven-haired Aberration paused, looking a bit thoughtful. “We had a nice thing going. I figured that now that we had this massive empty truck rolling down the streets, we might as well help the wounded citizens escape by helping them inside the truck, so we could move them to the evacuation point. I tried using my new power, the one I’m using now, to reach for everyone in the vicinity and tell them we were helping evacuation the young, the elderly and the wounded.”

Then, Angel’s face soured as she recalled what happened next. “Obviously, no one is going to trust a Sub in DC. The hate is just so strong for our kin in that city. But we kept trying. And no one wanted of our help. Then everything went to shit when Cat's Cradle appeared. People panicked, while others just looked at us as if we were to blame for everything that happened. People just hated us more, and started throwing insults at us. Then there was someone who shouted in our cuffs to “Leave the civilians to fend for themselves.” Let me tell you that this really didn't help on top of everything that was happening.”

“One brick flew into the windshield and hit Marcus straight on the shoulder. It was then I realized that if Marcus had been hit by a brick, something that someone should’ve been done purposefully at the height and angle the cabin was, that the others outside were in danger. People then started pelting us with a rain of debris, from huge rocks to bricks. I was thinking we were fine, in the safety of the truck, but the others were exposed to the storm. If they stopped using their powers of moving cars aside to protect themselves, then we’d just be stuck in there, until they run out of debris and come personally to attack us. But none of us stopped despite the hail, so I took matters into my own hands before anyone got their head split open by an ill-aimed brick.”

Angel’s act faltered for an instant, just about thinking of saying that she didn’t expected the others to drop what they were doing and join her on the beatdown, killing those she had already put out of commission.

“The rest of the story, you saw what went down.”

Ernie listened, fury silently broiling in him.

"Don't tell me you're actually trying to pin some of that shit on me. I transmitted you to 'get away from them'. There's a huge fucking difference and I did that for your safety. It's not my fault that you all threw yourselves into the crowds, that you did the exact opposite of what I advised, that you used your power to tell every sub-hater in the goddamn city what your fucking location was. It's honestly pathetic that you're trying to shift the blame. You were the one that consciously did all this."

Too many details lining up. A chill ran down his spine as the cars were mentioned.

"Matters into your own hands, huh? Siena was the one lifting the cars. So she dropped them and crushed a bunch of people too, right? Did you tell her to do that so your precious prodigies could be protected?"

“Do you have to fucking twist everything I’m trying to say? I just told that it wasn’t helping. I’m not saying this entire thing was your fault. I’m responsible for this fucking mess, so stop bitching about me trying to shift blame on others.” Angel spat, her irritation growing every time she was hearing Ernie talking. Who knew that one of her close friend, a previous fan, was so hateful. Was it the kind of people who actually idolized her in the past? She thought she made herself a better example than encouraging this sort of behavior.

“Hating us or not, I always said that those with power should endeavor to help the others in need. We had the opportunity, I wanted to seize it and make some more good in this world, on top of Marcus and Emma’s claim during their interview. I thought I made that pretty clear back then when I was leading my band.”

“It’s pitifully hypocritical, huh? To claim such things, then end up killing people in a fit of zeal.” The fallen singer added, her face showing just how much she had fallen from the grace she had built before.

"There's a difference between wanting to help and being a fucking glory-hound," Ernie scoffed back, assuming the worst of everything she was saying, "Yeah. You're a disgrace, Angel. An embarrassment to everything people like Marcus have been working towards, though I guess even that isn't much considering he fucking lost it out there too. A whole city of panicking tourists and new refugees, and you thought it was actually worth anyone's time to get a handful of people shoved into your truck and past the other thousands of tourists and refugees needing transport?"

"Don't cry to me about how pitiful it is. I saw it myself. I'm hearing it right now. And you never answered my question. Tell me about the dropped cars."

”You expect me to give you answers after being this massive of an asshole? Do you even fucking hear yourself talk, Ernest? Go fuck yourself, I’m done with you. I can’t believe I’ve considered a fucking dickhead as one of my friends. You know what, Ernest? It’s people like you that makes it easier to reject that I was previously a famous rockstar. If all I’ve ever managed to inspire in my life are selfish douchebags that bully people around and stab helpless people in the eyes like you, then I’m fine burning it all down and start anew from those ashes.

"Who are you defending, Angel?" he grew more agitated and ignored her insults, "Tell me about those cars."

They were going at it like rabid animals again, so intent on tearing out each other's throats while he was trying to figure out what the hell had even went down. Just so much goddamn hatred spewing everywhere, huh? Though the situation did indeed sound like everything spiraled out of control, the racist climate of Washington driven to the brink by the appearance Cat's Cradle before being redirected onto subnaturals that looked as if they were just escaping, it still...

It still didn't have to boil down into rampant violence did it?

"Ernie, please, just..." A tremor caused the weights to rattle, before Brent doubled his pace, burning away emotion, attachment. "Shut up."

Grant. Siena. Marcus. Even Emma, perhaps. What were they all...no, there were reports weren't there? Reports that lined up too well with what he heard from the cuffs. Time Scar opening fire on a regular. Killing them because they were attacking 'Pandora'. So, just Grant and Siena then.

"Angelic, I already told you that all I could do was hear. Please, continue on," Brent said, composed, "What did you do and why did you do it? What did everyone else do in response? And...what is Ernie on about, in regards to the cars? Stop taking the bait and avoiding the question."

Angélique ignored Ernest. She didn't want to give him the satisfaction of hearing what he wanted to hear. She would not accuse the others so as he could just walk up to them and start accusing them vehemently just like he was doing right now.

Brent, however, was a whole another matter. Angel hated him for just being there and quietly observing the events without flinching. That cold attitude was just unsettling, even if she should be welcoming the calm demeanor.

"I already told you what I did and why I did it, Brent. I screamed them to stop, twice. They didn't listen. So I just started using my other power, the Banshee's, to put them down. It was us, or them. I chose us. I told you the others were moving the cars and didn't stop despite the thrown debris. I used that opportunity to push our aggressors onto their working area. People were bound to be crushed underneath the moved vehicles. The others couldn't know. They didn't expect that. They had no time to react. By the time they realized, it was too late..."

"Is that your final answer, Angelic?"

The young woman remained silent, a half-convincing answer to Brent's question. Feeling overwhelmed and tense from this atmosphere and the threatening aura the two young men were exuding, Angel slowly got on her feet. The pain in her knee from Ernie's earlier kick had mostly subsided, making her leg serviceable once more.

There really was no point to staying here anymore, now that she answered their interrogations with a bold lie of self-destruction. She felt like a captive from those who were supposed to be her friends. She didn't want to be part of it anymore. So Angélique walked silently towards the gym's entrance.

Funny. So instead of crying, now the terrible Banshee of Montreal was running. Maybe there was a better way to do this. A way that would have gotten more answers, more truths rather than this rubbish that treated the two of them as if they were half-deaf idiots. Warranted a smirk, at least, a humorless one.

Her choice in the end. It had always been his policy to push or pull, not to direct.

But still, as Angelic retreated, there was one last question.

"Is that going to be your choice from now on? Destroy the world to protect your friends?"

Angel stopped by the door's frame, the words from Brent's mouth were oddly familiar to the whole debate she had that time with her inner self.

"I chose the Destroyer's path ever since the Dream. It's about time I accept everything that it implies."

"There are more than enough destroyers in this world, human and monster," Brent said. "Knowing that, you will still choose that path?"

"There's still not enough, if the world is still plagued with these... monsters. It takes more of those willing to go down the abyss to fight them."

"And are you willing to? Or is it just easier for you to?"

Angélique fell silent. It was a question that she was still wondering herself. A question that she had kept asking herself all night long, but found no answer. She didn't have the answer to that question. Reflecting that lack of response, Angel's hand loosened on the door's frame, her feet bringing her past the doorframe.

Ernie glared as she moved. Funny of her to talk of monsters and the abyss. Neither of them knew a goddamn thing.

His rope hand twitched. She still hadn't answered his question. He could make her stay, make her talk. But he didn't. There were other ways to get what he wanted.

"You sound so grand, talking about paths and destroyers. But I'm gonna tell you now. This X-mark isn't a path. It's a mistake, something you seem to be constantly making. You're not some kinda goddess of chaos, Angel. You're a scared little girl that can't even have the decency to lose sleep over the lives she takes. Destroying the world to protect your friends?"

This was a bad idea.

"If they can't even fend for themselves against a handful of Regulars without fucking it up so spectacularly then maybe they don't deserve protection. I suggest getting your priorities straight."

Angel thought that she should’ve just left the provoking Aberration alone with his insults, clearly assuming wrong about her. She should’ve been gone by now, but she was stupid. Blinded by anger, her body turned to face the two boys in the room, clearly pissed again.

“What do you even know about my sleeping habits? Nothing, if that’s the kind of bullshit you concluded.” Angel scoffed at his last statement. She could’ve told him about that time he failed to protect Christmas, but Angel wasn’t one to put blame on others unless it was rightfully deserved. Hazel had just been stronger than him, that was all.

But it still nonetheless didn’t excuse him for talking shit about the others. They didn’t deserve to be taking this sort of crap behind their backs. “You talk big, for someone who stands behind and do nothing. I didn’t hear you doing jackshit back in Wisford. And I didn’t saw you anywhere in DC. Tell me, Ernest, would you have preferred I ‘set my priorities straight’ back in Wisford and let Hazel slaughter you like a useless piece of garbage?”

"If you had set your priorities straight, you would have been helping against those rogue mages like Emma and Siena instead of... huh, what were you doing again? Whatever. I might do 'nothing' as you say, but I'd rather do that than slaughter a bunch of Regs, thanks."

"I was helping civilians out of those Collectors with Grant and a fucking bloodied face! Would I even know that eight of us wouldn't be able to take care of four Rogues? Fucking hell, Zoe was the one who took care of basically everything. Why did it took half of our class to kill four Rogues when it only took a third of us to take down those two gigantic monsters. Why? Because nobody had the guts to kill humans. Nobody wanted to pull the trigger."

"You're wrong. It's not guts you need to take someone's life. Anyone with a gun or an X-mark can do that. Anyone suffering a moment of weakness or rash anger can do something they can't take back. I wasn't there but I doubt you can compare yourself to Zoe's conviction."

An accusing finger pointed at Angelique.

"The moment you ruptured all those eardrums and laid waste to a bunch of innocents wasn't strength. It was misjudgment, so don't try to spin it as anything but that. But I'm sure I'm just wasting my words on you, if you're so caught up in this idea of necessary destruction. So I'll put it in your words. Obviously our classmates aren't as lacking in 'guts' as you think, since they were involved in this too. That was a trigger you were all itching to pull and I'm real disappointed."

Ernest was right, Angel wasn’t anything like Zoe. Zoe was strong, she accepted boldly the things she had done and didn’t bitch and moan about it. She kept her sins for herself and was willing to drown with them as they kept burying her. Angel wasn’t like that, as much as she tried to.

There was nothing she could say to reply to Ernie’s words. He was piercing through her veil of lies, but she didn’t want it to crumble like that.

Just as Brent said earlier, she’ll take the easy way out of this confrontation. There was nothing else for her to object.

“I really have nothing to care for your disappointment.” Was all she said before leaving.

"Well," Brent lifted an eyebrow, "Guess that's that."

He glanced over towards Ernie, that eerie sneer still stuck on the aberration's face.

"You enjoyed that?"

Ernie blinked and peered at Brent strangely. "I don't like...what do you mean?"

"Ah," the arbiter nodded, "You were just smiling the whole time. Still, guess this means training with Angelic's finished."

Smiling? Ah fuck.

Ernie's expression settled into one of worry. He didn't want Brent to know this part of him more than he already did. The action was more difficult than he wanted it to be.

"She never answered my question. Would've liked that before our training finished."'

He noted that change. Kept it in the back of the mind for the future.

"Cars, huh?" Brent said, heading to the treadmill. "You saw what happened, right, Ernie? How much of what she said was bullshit?"

"She left a lot of stuff out. Like Marcus and his gun. The battered bodies that weren't screamed to death. Siena..."

His voice took on a mournful note.

"She didn't tell us much about what the others were doing during the attack. A half-truth then. Fits with what I saw."

"Mom of Unit B, huh?" Brent laughed, adjusting the speed of the treadmill until it audibly whirred. "Wanted to take all the blame so we didn't ask anyone else about what happened."

But it was easy enough, seeing how quiet everyone was during the truck ride. How no one looked at anyone else. A shared sense of guilt and shame.

"You still like her though? Or not?"

She wanted to take all the blame. So she was like Zoe in that regard. He was wrong about that.

Was he mistaken about everything else?

Brent's question irked him. It had been so easy to sever that bond. Something he was eager for, even. Ernie wondered if the past few weeks had meant nothing to him, whether she was ever truly a friend instead of a rockstar he threw himself at.

Too easy, it had been too easy. The time the spent together was completely nullified by his desire to make her suffer for what she'd done. If he could go on without Angelique's companionship then what did it say about his other friends? He stared at Brent for a second. Now that he thought about it, he didn't really know much about him either.

Thoughts for another time.

"She can go stuff herself," Ernie decided, hopping back onto the machine. He hesitated before asking, "What about you? You and Siena are close, aren't you?"

"Siena's an arb."

Not that it meant anything. He should know that, considering his own self.

"I'd like to hear what happened in her own words, at least. It's not a bad test, you know?" That reflexive smile reared its head. "See who's honest and who's not."

"There were only two X's on that truck. And look what still happened."

He was being too harsh, right? Showing too much of his thoughts. Ernie sighed.

"Yeah, you should talk to her. Don't let...what happened here happen between you two too."

He still believed it was the right choice. Like cutting away a tumor.

"Tell me when you've done it, yeah? Tell me if there's still a reason to trust them."

Brent nodded.

Strange, how so many life-and-death situations have passed, and yet, trust was still something that was uncertain amongst Unit B. Did Unit A have the same problems? Did it more than blood, guts, and tragedy for Shane to get his own team together?

What were they missing? Why were they so prone to breaking?

"Still down for making ice cream and donuts?"

The Aberration blinked in surprise, before breaking out into a grin. A nicer one this time.

What he and Brent had was shallow at best. But it was better than nothing.

"Always, dude."

Chapter II: Hollow Love

Angélique | Allison

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𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟚, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟘𝟘𝟘𝟘

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_{Collab with @VarionusNW}

It felt wrong.

Angélique had been alone at the gym tonight, training all by herself. Muscle exercises like Brent used to show the girl, shadow fighting using her own martial arts style, some more cardio. While her body was exerting itself physically, Angel's brain felt hollow. The enthusiasm of training with someone else was gone, replaced by sour loneliness as the people she used to call partners were now nemesis. She couldn't trust them anymore to have her back, to have her well-being at heart. It hurt, but this was how things were going to be now. She could lament all she wanted, but that won't bring back the trust that was lost, or the feeling of camaraderie that had settled before.

She stood alone... her circle of friends rapidly diminishing as time went by.

It was a bit past midnight when the training young woman came out of the gym. She was exhausted from today. The morning fiasco with Brent and Ernest just pushed Angel to segregate herself from the rest of the class. She had gone for a lengthy jogging all around the mansion's premises for most of the morning, then took a car to get further away from the estate to only come back during evening. She hadn't slept for a while now, but she wasn't looking forward to meeting her nightmares.

"Angel," A cold, quiet voice sounded from beside the Gym's door. Allison stood there, leaning against the wall, staring at the ground. It hadn't been hard for Allison to figure out where Angel would be, but actually going inside proved to be impossible. Waiting outside was easier anyway. Allison almost seemed to be shaking, nervously gripping her left arm with her right. She didn't exactly look well, her hair in knots, and her skin pale. She had thought it was bad before, listening to Angel commit murder, but facing her felt even worse. She needed to confront her, to ask why, to find if there was any hope left, if it was all a lie. Still, Allison found herself trembling, barely able to speak out of a confounding mix of rage and heartbreaking sadness. It likely didn't help that Allison hadn't talked to anyone since DC, only leaving her room to shower and eat once in the last day. "Why?" She suddenly found the word falling out of her mouth.

If Angel could jump out of her skin literally, she probably would have as she heard the cold voice calling out to her just when she left the gym’s door frame. While it was entirely possible for someone to be awake at the time of the night, she never expected someone to be near enough the gym this late, let alone actually waiting for her.

Placing a hand on her chest and sighing heavily, Angélique turned to gaze at the waiting silhouette. Upon meeting Allison's gaze, the Voice Mage's morose face quickly turned into a mix of emotions that could only be described as shocked.

Angélique hadn't spoken to Allison ever since that night her most precious friend had confessed her love for the fallen idol. Ever since they left Washington behind, Angélique was dying inside, thinking of walking to Allison and tell her she was happy that they both came out alive from this ordeal. Hug her tightly. Seek comfort in her arms. Bask in the warmth of her loving embrace. Tell her that she was ready to accept her feelings.

But she ran away from it, took the easier path, as Brent called it. The coward’s path. When Angel learned from Ernest what she had been screaming and speaking throughout the whole catastrophe had been broadcasted to everyone, the young woman was overwhelmed by dread and shame. This had changed everyone’s perspective; Allison’s as well, judging from how she looked at Angel right now.

The full-fledged woman was at a loss, frightened. She was not prepared for this so soon. She knew she eventually had to explain herself to the girl who loved her, it was inevitable. And yet, Angélique had been running away, to buy herself time for as long as she could or simply because she was too scared to face a confrontation from Allison.

Ernest was right. She was only a scared little girl.

“A-Alice… I…”

The words came out choked. She could barely think of what to tell her. Explain things just the way she told Ernest and Brent? To take all the blame onto herself for the others’ sake? But then, Angélique started to be frightened by her own resolve to protect the others. Just by looking at what happened earlier today, she was losing more of her precious friends by the moment. Was it worth it, to lose everyone around her to benefit all the others?

Angel was terrified. Terrified that Allison turned out to be just like Ernest. Was her love just as fake as Ernest’s friendship? Angel was scared of losing the only person that mattered the most, the only thing Angel had left in this miserable existence. Was she willing to throw it away for the resolve of becoming a monster?

“I-I didn’t mean to… I… wanted to protect the others… b-but I loss control… and…”

Before she even started explaining herself properly, Angel’s naked eyes started to wet themselves, and Angel brought both hands to her face, hiding in shame as emotions overloaded her brain and took a toll on her exhausted body. Angel’s legs bucked, unable to support the emotional baggage, sending her on her knees. And she only remained there, sobbing, her mind unable to untangle itself from all the knots the confused Aberration made on herself.

"Get up, Angel." Allison's voice was cold and empty, uncharacteristically somber. "This was supposed to be easy for me. I was supposed to ask why you did it, you would give me some bullshit answer, and I would walk away and give up on you, realizing that you're just the same as every other fucked up person I've met." Allison's eyes stayed firmly planted at the ground, rather than at the weeping Angel. "I want to be wrong. I still love you," the words sounded eerily empty despite the sentiment, "but I can't trust you. I thought I had found another person who wasn't going to let themselves resort to murder. I thought I had the found an incredibly rare thing in this place, someone who I could actually trust without getting backstabbed and having my life ruined. But, of course...

"In the end you do the same as everyone else. You do something terrible, act like it wasn't your fault, blame it on something else." Allison paused for a second, collecting her thoughts. "Saying you didn't mean to do it isn't going to fix things. It won't bring people back. It won't heal the wounds, physical or otherwise. The only option is to face what you did and understand the consequences of your actions. Of course, the public won't know what you did. The people whose lives you destroyed will know somewhat, but they will be kept quiet. The only people who know what happened are you, me, and the rest of our merry band of monsters," Allison paused again. "Of course, being a bunch of monsters, the consequences aren't that dire, are they? In fact, I bet a few people would tell you that there was no other option, that what you did was fine, or that it really wasn't your fault. The other parties don't exactly get to tell you what they think, do they? I thought, maybe I should give you an example of what happens when you do something like this, when you kill," Allison's voice seemed to waver slightly. "When people are killed, two kinds of corpses are left behind. The first is self-explanatory, but the second doesn't get much attention. It's probably because they still walk, talk, and function on a basic level. Other than basic functions, though, they're the same as a corpse. They're dead emotionally.

"No one remembers the people left behind when someone dies. The people who have to pick up the fucking pieces and move on. The funny thing is, the pain left after someone dies isn't even interesting. It's just a dull nothingness where anything else should be. Imagine feeling that day in and day out. Imagine trying to mourn, and just feeling fucking nothing. At some point it just becomes background noise, death doesn't faze you anymore. That's the hard part of this for me. It's not trying to find the words to say to you after this, it's trying to feel fucking anything. Though... maybe I should be more detailed, shouldn't I?" Allison now dared to gaze at her weeping friend, her stare as dead as her words. "Well, let's start with the first death, it's simple. My father got cancer. My mother decided that was a great time to reveal she was cheating on him and left him. She never spoke to either of us ever again. My father died a few months later.

"I can't talk about the second death. The next few, though, I can easily discuss. About two years ago now, I escaped an orphanage with the only 4 friends I had and a woman who called herself Tommy. I think I told you a bit about her? I'll be glossing over her for now. About a year, maybe a year and a half after we started living out of a van and driving around the country, we met a strange man. He had piercing, red eyes. I fell in love with him at first sight. He later killed all my friends, buried them behind an old cabin, and didn't tell me until I figured it all out a few months ago. Not long after that I ended up at USARILN. I think we both remember what happened to Alexis and Savannah.

"What all that death left me with was a bunch of holes. I can't fill those back up. The people that were there are gone. My mother, the red eyed man, and USARILN took those people away. To the victims of what you did, you are the exact same sort of awful. 'I didn't mean to do it' doesn't matter. You made your bed, Angélique Lachance. Lie in it. You only have one option. Realize what you've done, come to terms with it, and, listen, this is the most important part: Never. Do. It. Again."

Angel simply stood there, paralyzed, as her sobbing had stopped to listen to her friend. She was shocked to hear all that had happened to her, explaining more than a few things about why Allison was the person she was.

Each word felt like a stab to her heart. She didn't mean to kill these people. Hell, she didn't even kill them herself. But it was her fault nonetheless. She had lost control, and in a fit of zeal to protect her friends, has unleashed a barrage that would only enrage the innocents and eventually exposed those people to the calamities that her teammates brought.

She couldn't summon the courage to say these words to Allison, not after hearing those words. Quite the opposite, she had accepted them. She was at fault. None of this would have happened if she had been in control. No, her Stigma wasn't to be considered. It was just an excuse. An excuse that Allison didn't want to accept, just as Kusari didn't accept Lilianna's when it came down to explain why she amplified injuries until everyone died.

Slowly, Angel did as Allison commanded. She got up on her feet, albeit shakenly, but her eyes never left the ground. She couldn't bear to look into the eyes of the girl she had wronged so painfully. And as such, she did the only thing that she was trying to be good at.

Sacrifice.

"A-Allison... I..."

The words were still stuck into her throat. She wanted to scream her pain, but she couldn't. Allison didn't deserve this pitiful piece of garbage that tried to act as a remorseful monster. She didn't deserve to be put through so much pain because of her.

"I'm sorry... to have betrayed you. Please..."

Tears started to fall again.

"Give up on me... I'm not worth it."

With that Angel quickly turned away and wanted to run, but her weakened legs could only manage a quick walking pace.

A hand reached out to stop Angel, and with some stumbling, it managed to find a hold on Angel's shoulder.

"Idiot. I'm not the one you betrayed. Sure, I feel betrayed, but you didn't spite me. It wasn't intentional. Besides, you should fucking know that's not how love works. I can't just give up on you. I wouldn't have said any of this shit if I didn't still love you." Allison still stared at the floor.

Angel stopped, the hand on her shoulder sort of froze her into place. No, she wasn't only betraying Allison, she was betraying herself, her own feeling. She wanted just as much as Allison to feel loved and to return that love, but she didn't want to hurt her any more than she already did. It drove her mad really, to continue trying to reject it all.

Slowly and eerily, Angélique turned to face Allison, her tired eyes set upon the brunette's face. She'll know, once and for all, if it was meant to be, or if it was all a lie.

"Allison..." her voice beckoned "Can you look at me in the eyes and still find the will to say that despite knowing what I did?"

"Yea, I think I can manage that. Actually..." Allison found herself moving around Angel to face her, placing her hands on the metalhead's shoulders. She stared into those tear-soaked eyes for a few moments. "Angélique Lachance. I love you." Allison moved faster than her own mind could process, and pulled the taller girl in for a kiss.

There was no resistance. In fact, as Angel's eyes met Allison's and heard her name accompanied with those simple three words, she felt a desire like none she ever felt before. Wrapping her arms around her lover's waist, the dark-haired fallen rockstar embraced Allison tightly as she accepted her wholly, her lips meeting with the brunette’s own into a passionate kiss.

Allison melted into the kiss, surprised that the depressed Angel would even be willing to reciprocate. It was a wonderful feeling, one that Allison wanted to last forever. It was an odd sort of irony, then, that Allison was the one to break the kiss, if only for a moment.

"Holy shit."

It was a first time experience for the rockstar to have shared something so intimate with someone else. The act of kissing wasn't what had drawn the previously cold girl, it was that feeling of sharing something such intimacy with someone she could only really describe as 'her love'.

Angélique's heart fluttered, again an emotion she felt like she never experienced before, which made it seem like every worry in the world had just disappeared. When Allison broke up the kiss, there was a certain longing in Angel's eyes, feeling like it had been too short, too soon to break.

But she giggled heartily when she heard Allison's breathy swear. "Alice... ever since we came back, I had realized it. When you ran off after Zoe, and when you mentioned you were about to make a do-or-die plan, my mind was only thinking about you. I feared of losing you. I wanted to be there with you, but Grant told me it would do me no good, I'd only get in the way. Each passing moment, i was praying for your safety. For you to come back alive."

Angel paused, thinking back to what happened in the meantime, then when they left DC, coming here and being confronted by Brent and Ernest. "I couldn't tell you. I was scared. Scared of you rejecting me, like Ernest rejected me so easily. I was afraid of being hurt, of being alone, of losing what was the most precious person to me left in my wreck of a life. You."

Another pause, more tears to shed. It was hard at this point to say if she was happy to have been freed of this torment, or if she was hurt deep inside. "So let me say it, please."

"Allison, I love you, from the bottom of my heart."

Allison couldn't even speak, only finding the tears that had evaded her through the last several minutes crawling down her cheeks. She threw herself further into the embrace, reuniting her lips with Angel's. It was the only response Allison found herself capable of giving, and it seemed to be the correct one. They held like that for what felt like an eternity, sharing something that seemed too intimate for the pair of dysfunctional youths. Eventually, Allison found herself leading Angel back to her room, where she promptly locked the door.

Chapter III: Happy Birthday

Angélique | Zoe

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟜, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟙𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @Lasrever}

Coming back from her daily routine shower after working a running sweat ever since she woke up, Angélique walked to the mansion’s garage, again. Much like the other days before, the fallen rockstar didn’t feel like staying locked up inside the estate. She’d much rather enjoy the feeling of freedom driving a car around the island gave her. It gave her time to think about what she did, about what happened, about the others.

Siren had no intended destination. She just wanted to get away from it all as much as she wanted to explore. For that reason, Angel had swung at the black sportscar’s backseats a few bags of her own personal belongings: spare clothes, swimsuit, phone, only to name a few. She never knew if she would actually return to the mansion for the night.

Especially not today of all days. Every year, Angel made it a challenge on herself to throw something special for her birthday. She figured that if today was a special day, she would as well celebrate it with others and let them in onto this happy day. She could remember last year’s birthday, having thrown a party at the Bell Center with hundreds of her fans. She sang, she played, she drank, she had fun.

But this year, it was entirely different. She had no fans to celebrate with. No friends. No family. Only people that she shared a battlefield with, and hateful thoughts to remind her how pathetic she was. Truly, today wasn’t a day worth celebrating at all. If anything else, it was a day to curse what she had become.

Solemnly, Angélique took the driver’s seat inside the Dodge Charger, taking time to readjust her seat and her mirrors.

Zoe hadn't been awake for too long when she decided to take a walk around the estate. For all its extravagance, the place wasn't bad to look at, and it beat sitting around watching TV or whatever.

The whole thing took an interesting turn, of course, when she caught sight of a certain singer wandering around on her own. Not a couple of weeks ago, Zoe would have ignored her classmate - actively avoided, even. But she'd changed, or at least she was starting to try. Not without her fair share of... relapses, so to speak, but trying.

To tell the truth, Zoe didn't care whether she herself lived or died. For now, though, she was alive, and realizing that it wasn't worth running anymore. Ernie, for all his faults, had been right in DC; she did care about the others, like it or not. Even after what Angel had done in DC. It wasn't as though Zoe didn't have blood on her hands, and as much as anything else, she had questions to ask. Had to know what path her friend planned on walking, had to try and help her however she could.

And watching Angel get into the car, it seemed to Zoe like the other young woman was pretty miserable about something or other. So she jogged over before her classmate drove off, tapping on the driver's side window with a friendly smile. "Room for one more?"

It would be a lie to say Angel had been expecting anyone. Lost in thought, she jumped in her seat, startled by the sudden knocking on the window. She did not know whether Zoe wanted to have a talk or simply wanted Angélique to drive Zoe somewhere on her way to wherever she was going. After what happened in Washington, she would have thought no one would actively seek her out. But she was proven wrong, as Brent, Ernest and even Allison had quickly sought her out for answers about what she did in DC. Knowing Zoe, she might have come to her for answers as well.

Whether it was because Angel felt lonelier than ever before on this day that was supposed to be special, needed to talk or simply wanted someone to yell at her for what she did, Angel mustered every bit of self-assurance to smile back and nodded, pressing the doors unlocking button.

“Sure, hop in. Got some place you wanted to go to?”

At Angel's agreement, Zoe grinned and walked around the car, hopping into the seat beside her. Part of her wanted to push all the buttons, but a bigger part of her figured that'd be a bad idea. She really had no idea how to drive, and this thing was way fancier than any car she'd ever been in. At Angel's question, she shrugged, sitting back in the seat.

"Nowhere in particular." She glanced at the other girl, before shrugging. No point hiding her ulterior motives here. "Wanted to talk to you anyway, and besides, you looked like you were in a bad mood. Even worse than usual." Lighthearted teasing aside, it was clear that Zoe at least wasn't just here to interrogate Angelique.

"Figured you might feel better if you've got a friend around."

It somewhat came to no surprise to Angel hearing what Zoe had to say, although she did got surprised by her last statement. If her face was a window to her soul, then that window sure was thoroughly cleaned.

“I’m that easy to figure out, huh? Yeah… today’s not a good day for me…” Angel let out a sad smile, her gaze returning to the windshield. Zoe did just say “a friend”, right? Was she really okay still hanging around, despite what she did? Deep inside, something sparked, albeit faintly, mostly choked by pessimism and expectations being easily misjudged. “Thanks... I appreciate it.”

Making sure her seatbelt was buckled up and everything was in order, Angélique started the car’s engine and drove the beast away from the mansion. Already, as their temporary home disappeared behind, relief was soon showing up on her face as she lowered the door’s window, letting a fresh breeze enter the car and sending her obsidian hair flutter in the wind. For the semblance of freedom it brought her, she welcomed it with open arms.

Zoe smiled slightly as Angelique appeared to relax. Her own window was open as well, though the wind didn't have nearly as dramatic an effect on Zoe's appearance. Chuckling slightly, she leaned forward to mess with the radio as she spoke. "You know, I'm not sure how you deal with having that much hair. I mean mine's enough of a pain to deal with. After the first fight, I seriously considered cutting it all off."

Realizing she wasn't completely sure how to actually work the radio, Zoe sat back as soon as she reached a station that didn't seem to be the news, paying almost no attention to the music that was playing. Whatever it was, it would be better than sitting there listening to regulars discuss them all for the hundredth time.

Angélique chuckled slightly at Zoe’s remark, her mood slightly shifting for the better at these attempts of small talk. Something that she was looking forward more than the impending discussion about the whole DC incident.“I hear you. Drying and combing that mass after a bath is a pain but…” Angel paused, looking a bit thoughtful, “I love the style. It’s like when people ask me about how inconvenient my clothing is. But really, I’ve just grown used to it. Needed to have the looks that went with my job. Eventually, I just grew fond of looking extravagant.”

There was a hint of bitterness as she remembered about her previous life. It probably would’ve been easier if she just decided to change her looks to help her transition to her new Mage life. But deep inside, is changing appearance going to make it any better? Had she really given up on who she was before becoming a Subnatural.

This scene felt oddly nostalgic to Angélique. The sound of pop music playing in the background while she was having small talk with her passenger, it was a scene that she was very familiar with, from her time spent of the road. It was easy to guess Angel was no stranger to being behind the steering wheel, just by how smooth her driving was.

“I think it’d be a shame if you were to cut it off. The fiery badass look really suits you, honestly. If it still annoys you, there is always a way to make it more manageable. I tend to tie my hair into a tail or a bun if I fear it would catch into something.”

"Nah, I think it'll be fine like this. I dealt with the stomach acid - it won't get much worse than that, hopefully. Besides, it's short enough. Nice to hear it suits me, though." Zoe smiled at the compliment, before shrugging. "Whatever works, right? Don't always have to be preparing for battle or we'd never enjoy anything." Smiling, she looked at Angelique, lost in thought. A realization she'd only come to recently, but that didn't make it wrong. Just different. Although saying that, there was something to be said for efficiency as well.

Blinking, Zoe realized that she'd spaced out a little.

"Sorry. Just kinda tired." And her training routine had perhaps been a little too rigorous since getting here. You couldn't keep reopening old wounds without a little fatigue setting in, but she didn't really seem to make the connection. Almost unconsciously, she picked at the bandages that were wrapped around her hands as she glanced away from the black-haired woman with a hint of slightly embarrassed laughter.

"For what it's worth, I can't really imagine you changing your style that much. It's kinda your look at this point. Figured I may as well ask, though."

“It’s alright. To be honest, I did thought to change style when I went shopping a few times at Crimen. But then again, I couldn’t decide what I could possibly wear. Like you said, it sort of became how I look.”

Angélique grew silent, her eyes drifting away from the empty road for only a second, curious as to what Zoe was fidgeting with. “I hope those aren’t the signs of someone who been too brutally beaten up.” She joked lightly, tinged with a slightness of worry. She didn’t know if Zoe had been injured back in Washington, or if it was something that happened here. Hopefully it was nothing too serious. Angel hadn't been around the mansion enough to actually know everything that was happening with the others while she was gone.

Zoe's eyes widened with surprise as she stopped fidgeting. Okay, she probably should've paid more attention to what she was actually doing there. Still, she raised an eyebrow at Angel's statement, glancing down at herself and then to the singer. "Come on, you think anyone around here would be able to beat me up?" Yeah, probably, but that didn't stop her bravado.

Her smile faded slightly as she experimentally opened and closed a fist, wincing at the slight pain that came with the motion. Problem with having cuts on somewhere that moved so much, she supposed. "It's a training thing. No need to worry about me, I've done it plenty of times before. You get used to it." Her scars said as much.

She wasn't sure why it felt like she was admitting to doing something wrong. "Think we should stop soon? Don't wanna go too far in case the security get pissed." Hoping that her answer would have satisfied her teammate's curiosity, she looked back out of the window.

“I meant the poor bastards on the receiving end of those fists.” Angel replied with a chuckle. She found it quite silly for her red-haired friend to continue putting up this tough-girl attitude. Still, she could somewhat understand where she was coming from. However, Zoe’s answer only made the raven-haired young woman’s brows furrow in response. She heard about bruises and small injuries that came with training, but the bandages around Zoe’s hands suggested she really did a number onto her fist. “Yeah sure we practice different fighting methods, but I don’t think training to the point of getting injuries like that is quite healthy.”

But it was quite apparent Zoe had her mind set upon the whole deal. If that was her way of doing things, Angel doubted trying to talk about healthy training habits would be acknowledged. Instead, she dropped the matter, her focus returning to the road before Zoe brought up a point.

“Don’t worry, I’ve been asking around about my itineraries. Was told as long as I don’t leave the island, I’d be fine. Not that we can cross the ocean with this thing anyway. What, got ants crawling up your legs already?”

Angel was probably right about her training methods, but 'healthy' wasn't Zoe's priority. The more likely it was to break her down, the better. As for the travel, she knew they hadn't been going for that long, but... "I don't really sit around that much. My mind wanders. So to speak." And the murder fantasies weren't good. Well, they were. But she didn't want them to be. It didn't help that she considered Angel a friend.

Despite wishing otherwise, a hint of something hungry seemed to cross Zoe's expression, blue eyes fixing on Angelique. Only for a second, though, as her eyes widened and she spoke apologetically. "You don't have to worry. It's not gonna be an issue today, I just--" She sighed. "Told you before, right? Gets worse around people I like. Can't really help it."

There was that, and the fact that she didn't want to ask any painful questions while Angel was driving. "If you wanna keep going for a while, I think I'm gonna take a nap. So long's that's okay with you." Assuming Angel wouldn't protest, Zoe sat back in her chair and closed her eyes. It didn't take long for her to nod off, her expression relaxing - more peaceful than any she'd wear when awake.

Angélique only nodded to Zoe’s reminder. But with everything that was happening, the newly appointed Siren could not tell if she was desperate enough for a talk to dismiss the looming danger Zoe represented, or if it was genuine suicidal thoughts. For now, the possibility of vanishing from the Black God’s touch didn’t faze the raven-haired Aberration.

Nodding slowly to a sleepy Zoe, Angélique turned the volume of the radio slightly down, as to make some peace and quiet for the red-haired Mage to relax and take a nap undisturbed. While the pale Aberration driver felt for Zoe’s more physically-active self, Angel felt like driving a bit longer, going further away from the mansion. She wanted to feel that sense of freedom a bit more.

Eventually, the car reached the northern end of the island, sitting high atop the cliffs that overlooked the ocean from above. The sun was high in the sky, suggesting it was a bit later after noon. Having reached her destination, Angélique however did not wake Zoe immediately after shutting the car’s engine. Instead, she gazed upon the redhead’s resting face. She looked so serene, so peaceful right now. Watching this softened expression that Angel never seemed to have seen in Zoe’s traits, a longing smile crept on the singer’s lips.

Deciding that Zoe might need the rest after all that happened, the Voice Mage reached for the rear seats, grabbing a cooler she had taken from the mansion just before leaving. Inside, she retrieved what seemed to be ingredients for making sandwiches.

If Angelique was listening, she'd hear Zoe beginning to mutter something. It wasn't the clearest thing in the world, but it would be easy enough for the musician to hear - the redhead was quite obviously talking in her sleep.

Whatever dream the girl was having, it was vivid. And not exactly pleasant. Not every word was said clearly enough to be audible, but it was probably enough for Angelique to get the idea. "...n't want... alone. I know... Should've been me... stronger. I'm sorry, just..." There was a hint of desperation, her brow furrowed in distress. Fear, perhaps, that she refused to let show when she was awake. "Don't leave again."

It was also quickly becoming apparent that Zoe likely had no idea she did this - there was no way the girl would've fallen asleep near anyone, friend or not, if she knew how much vulnerability was showing right now.

As Angélique finished preparing her meal, she quickly turned to the mutterings of her sleeping friend. Paying no heed to her food, the raven-haired musician listened intently to the dreaming Aberration, her every words, her every expressions. It was tough to watch, mainly because everything that Angel was struggling within herself, it sort of reflected itself into the red-haired girl’s sleeping form.

It was said that, when sleeping, one’s subconscious was free to express itself. If that was the case, then Angélique figured that the muttering Zoe in front of her was probably the real Zoe, deep down inside, hidden under a layer of hardened and cold façade. This sudden revelation gripped Angel’s heart. Just how hard was Zoe on herself? How heavy were her burdens?

Angélique was so used to seeing a strong-willed and harsh Zoe, it came as a shock to witness that side of her. And yet, there was some strange sense to relief, happiness crawling through this scene. It showed that Zoe, despite her claims, cared just about as much as anyone, but wasn’t willing to show it. Finally, it confirmed Zoe wasn’t a complete monster.

After a while, the jet-black-haired Aberration couldn’t bear seeing her friend in that state. But she didn’t want to shake the girl off from her sleep just like that, fearing it might do more harm than good. Instead, Angel thought of something that eased her mind when she was young and distressed. Like a mother to her child, Angélique’s golden voice began filling the air. Loud enough to be heard, yet peaceful notes that would soothe tumultuous minds. Not exactly a lullaby, more drifting towards a ballade.

The melody seemed to at least calm Zoe slightly, a little of the previous tranquility returning to her expression, though her murmurs didn't quite cease. Her frown and fearful expression were at least less severe, eventually fading to a small, relaxed smile.

After a few minutes more peaceful slumber, however, she finally began to stir, sitting up and blinking sleep out of her eyes. Looking around with more than a little confusion, her eyes rested on Angelique. Her expression was slightly less guarded than usual, but certainly not to the level it had been while she was unconscious. Trying to shake off the last of the dreams that had distressed her. Though it wasn't as bad as usual.

"Angel?" She was curious as to why the other girl would be singing, shooting her an amused grin. Blissfully unaware of what she'd just been doing, that much was obvious. Opening the door, she stepped out of the car to join Angelique, giving her a small if somewhat confused, smile. "You're... singing." It sounded as though Zoe wanted to ask why, but wasn't sure if it was worth it. Maybe it was just a musician thing. She figured she'd seen a whole lot stranger.

”Well, you knew I was a singer before, right? Even if there is no crowd, that doesn’t stop me from singing to myself from time to time.”

Angel mustered a half-assed smile while her eyes lowered to the lunch she was preparing. It was simply too embarrassing to tell Zoe that this corny singing was to help her waking up from her bad dreaming, even though Zoe had already figured Angel was a bleeding-heart type. Too embarrassing, and she didn’t know how well Zoe would take that.

Instead, Angélique kept her innocent smile and turned to Zoe, offering her the sandwich she was working on. “Are you hungry? I’ve made a lunch for the both of us. You’ve been napping for a few hours now.”

"Uh, kind of. Thanks. Didn't realize I'd be out so long." Accepting the sandwich, Zoe appeared to take Angel's explanation at face value. Yeah, must've been a musician thing. Looking around them, Zoe sighed. The view was pretty spectacular, and although being surrounded by ocean wasn't her favorite thing, being so far up made it far more bearable. Overall, it wasn't bad.

"Here I thought I was the one looking out for you by coming along, and I've just been sleeping the whole time. Sorry about that. Guess you've had better company, huh?" She chuckled, looking around the landscape. "If we're gonna wait around here for a while, may as well go find somewhere to sit. Or, I dunno, walk or something."

And as much as she wanted to just enjoy the moment, Zoe knew she'd have to speak to Angel properly soon.

“Oh, don’t worry about that. You know, my grandfather used to tell me that if someone is sleeping in your car while you drive, then that means they trust you enough to entrust their safety to you.” Angélique giggled playfully, trying to tease some sort of softness out of Zoe with that reminder. But in reality, she was thankful for Zoe’s words. It felt good to know that, despite what happened and the incoming talk they will be having, that Zoe was out here to look out after her. Perhaps that was the one thing that made this day bearable.

With a nod, Angel closed the sportscar’ trunk after grabbing two more sandwiches. There were plenty of rocks to sit onto, but ultimately Angel decided for the both of them to go walking. Zoe did mention earlier that she wasn’t good at sitting for too long. Might as well do things her way after Zoe gracefully indulged Angel’s driving fantasy.

“But really, thank you for being here today. I… don’t know what I would be doing right now if you didn’t ask to join me earlier.”

"You don't need to thank me for it." Zoe wasn't sure what else to say to that. There were a few seconds of silence before she slowly shook her head. It wasn't any trouble for her to come along. And the statement on trust was... odd. Possibly because it felt true, even when many people would have had their trust broken by the singer's previous actions. But on some level, it made sense.

"You've given me plenty of second chances yourself. Least I can do is try and return the favour. Besides, we are friends, aren't we? Can't just have you sitting around miserable." Just enough to make it clear Zoe wasn't unaware of what had happened in DC. But that didn't change that Angel had been at least partly responsible for getting her to stop driving the others away. "This morning - you said it wasn't a good day. There any reason for that, or is it just... what happened before?"

Testing the waters, though it appeared that Zoe was coming from a place of concern rather than anger. She knew as well as anyone what it was like to hate yourself for the things you'd done.

Even though Angélique knew exactly what was wrong with her today, and knew eventually that question would come around, Angel still wasn’t prepared to actually answer this question. The silence somewhat explained a lot about how she felt, but it was only half of it. Did she really need to reveal to Zoe about the meaning of today? She didn’t want to bother the girl with something like that.

And yet, Zoe’s words struck true again at the mention of them being actual friends. Being a classmate was one thing, but hearing out the word ‘friend’ was a whole another matter. Probably something she heard a few people actually say. That in itself incited Angel to open her heart to Zoe.

“It’s… complicated." Angel finally managed to say, breaking her silence. She took a deep breath, obviously trying to gather all the courage in her heart to reveal the darkness that was plaguing her. “Truth is, yes. I still feel like I did a mistake back in Washington, no matter how hard I try to convince myself and the others what I did was for their own good.”

Another dead silence, her mouth quivering, her voice growing shaky “A-and today… it’s… it’s my birthday."

She felt like she could cry, but instead she tried to remain firm, strong, like Zoe had always showed her whenever she spoke. “I’ve never felt this lonely ever before.”

Zoe was surprised to see how shaken Angel was by all of this. Even more surprised to hear that it was her birthday. But as she saw how close the singer was to crying, what she felt was something familiar. Protectiveness, almost, a certainty that she didn't want to watch this girl destroy herself. Fuck, it was so familiar. So, perhaps unexpectedly considering her usual aversion to physical contact, she drew Angel into a hug.

"Hey. You don't have to be strong right now." Speaking softly, Zoe couldn't help but see herself in the older girl. Loneliness, fearfulness, a terrible blood-soaked mistake. They really were similar, weren't they? Similar, but not quite the same. Angelique hadn't crossed that line, not yet. The pain wasn't a part of her. "I promise you I have an idea of what you're going through. I know what it's like to think that everyone hates you. You're not a monster. You don't have to be, unless you choose to."

"Angel, I don't want to watch you turn into me. And I'm not gonna stand by and let that happen." She smiled, loosening her grip and taking a step back to try and meet the singer's eyes. There was fire in her gaze, a simple, steadfast determination. Her tone was firm, but remained gentle as she continued. "But you need to choose which path you're taking, 'cause I don't want to watch you tear yourself apart."

The sudden hug and soft tone in Zoe’s voice was all it took for Angel to lower her already-weakened guard. As she returned the barely taller girl’s embrace, her face buried itself on her shoulder, wet droplets of tears starting to wet her eyes. It was clear she tried holding herself back from sobbing her heart out, but she couldn’t hide the emotional liquid from reaching her cheeks.

“I… need to be strong. I have to be strong.” Angel muttered as Zoe pulled her out from their hug, wiping her tears away from her face. “I don’t know what I want, Zoe.”

Angélique paused, unsure how to exactly explain what was going on in her mind. “Back in Washington, all I wanted was to stop the Regulars from stoning us. I knew I had the powers to disable these people without killing them. Even if the world would come to hate me for attacking them, I wanted to protect the others.”

“I was ready to shoulder that responsibility… even if I knew that would definitively fuel that reputation of a murderer I got from Montréal. I felt like if I had to become the monster they would fear, then the Regulars would not get in our way the next time we try to save people. But then… the leaked videos came in… and I was portrayed as a hero, instead of showing the disaster that made me a monster only a moment earlier. It… crushed my resolve. How can I live with what we’ve done back there while we are applauded as heroes? How can I be the person to pull the trigger when I’m supposed to be seen as someone good? I don’t want to hurt anyone… but I have to if I want to protect the others from the cruel injustice we are facing every day.”

"Take it from the person that got the bad publicity, being condemned by the world doesn't help anyone. You think any regulars'll chill out when I'm around?" Zoe sighed, struggling to find the words she needed. Angel wasn't the only one who'd screwed up before, she knew that all too well. "In Wisford. I just wanted to end the fight, just didn't want anyone else to get hurt. But I fucked up, hard. No-one died, but I caused more hurt than I had to. You did too. It wasn't necessary, not really."

"I could lie to you and say it'll all be okay. But it won't. People have long memories, and some of them won't understand what you did. There was probably a better way. I get it, pulling the trigger, taking responsibility. This one's on you. But you've got a second chance, and that's a pretty rare thing. If you really want to pull the trigger... that's your choice. If you feel like have to do it for the others, then screw your reputation." But for what it was worth, she was putting her faith in Angelique. "What you're supposed to be doesn't mean shit compared to keeping the others alive."

"For now, if the world won't hold you responsible, then do it yourself. If you want someone to remind you what you've done, then remind yourself. You want a reason to fight, then you make one for yourself." A pessimistic view of the world, but at the end of the day, you were the only person that would always be around. "I've got your back, for as long as you're here. And if the chance is there, I'll happily pull the trigger in your place."

After all, Zoe knew she was already seen by the world as a monster.

Angel remained silent as Zoe explained the path that was lying ahead of what Angélique was considering to take. A thankless existence, full of self-imposed burdens and hardships. Was that what Zoe had been carrying with her ever since she came into USARILN, perhaps before then even? Angel was a soul that was ready to accept sacrifice as a part of her life, if it came to protect her loved ones, but was she really ready to dismiss her humanity and be left to herself until she died, with only Zoe as her partner in crime and fellow monster?

Was there any other way to be both?

A sentence the Aberration kept repeating in her head. She wanted to be there for the others, pull the triggers when others wouldn’t in order to make sure everyone stayed alive. But she yearned to be seen as someone reliable, someone heroic, someone that could change the world for a better one. She wanted Czernobog’s determination, Proteus’ strength, Gleipnir’s sound judgement, Time Scar’s optimism, and the people’s good grace. She wanted to rise as an Archangel and right her wrongs.

“Isn’t there any other way to be both?” Angel found herself wishfully repeating that aloud, even if she knew it probably wasn’t possible, as her eyes met Zoe’s. "I wish we wouldn't hurt ourselves like this, that you wouldn't torment yourself until driven mad by the burdens. I... don't want to see us wallowing in despair and end up..."

"Don't worry about me. I don't know if there's a way to be both, but..." Zoe smiled sympathetically, but she didn't know how to walk that line. After a long moment of silence, she spoke again, quietly at first. "Just try not to be a monster, alright? I don't want that for you. Being like that, all you get is fear. Anger. Disgust." A small, bitter smile.

"That's what people feel once they know what you really are." This wasn't really advice; if anything it sounded far closer to a warning. "You'll never get a happy ending. Never be able to hope for redemption. Anyone that doesn't leave gets dragged down with you, and soon enough you'll find refuge in the pain. The smell of blood, the sound of screaming: They're sweet perfume and beautiful music." And that was monstrous, no matter how you looked at it.

"Because the battlefield is the only place that people like you are any good to have around, and you'll never have a place in peace. Not when the only thing you can do is hurt. People you care about as well as ones you don't." At some point this had stopped being hypothetical, and she'd started describing herself. Calmly, as though it didn't bother her to think about what she was, who she'd become. As she spoke, she unwrapped the bandages from one hand, revealing her sliced-open knuckles.

"Even then it still won't be good enough to save everyone. Throwing away everything you are, everything you have the potential to be, won't mean you can always be there. So just-- think it through, Angel. That's all I'm asking." There was pain in the look Zoe directed at Angel, both pain at voicing what she was and genuine hurt at the idea of being followed down that path. "If there is a way to do both, then I'll do my best to help you find it. You don't deserve to end up alone."

Not like me. But the last part went unspoken beyond a flicker of loneliness in her expression.

It was hard to listen to what Angel could only assume as Zoe describing her inner turmoil. While those were burdens she had started to fear carrying around, seeing the other Aberration's pain was exactly what had set the Voice Mage onto this path. She couldn't bear watching someone close to her fall down deeper into this abyss.

Zoe was strong, to still be standing in front of Angel and counsel her despite all she was putting herself through. She had the opportunity of not being alone into this, but yet tried so hard to convince her friend to not go through with this plan. Angelique had realized that, despite all the bad things Zoe did, she could only sympathize for the redhead, even start to admire her. But it was clear that Zoe didn't want this for her, and Angel didn't know if she wanted to hurt her friend by going against her wishes.

"I... I promise I will. I just wish... that I could find my resolve back as easily as yours, and still find a way to become a better person."

Angel fell silent her eyes drifting between Zoe and the ocean. She had felt alone, but it had now dissipated when Zoe made it clear that she was there for Angel. But hearing her talk, the red-haired Aberration made it sound as if she had nobody to rely on herself. Angel wished to be at least that one person Zoe could find the comfort of not being alone.

"Zoe... I don't want you to be alone as well. I know that you already chose what you'd become and that you deserve it, but please, you don't have to be lonely. If you don't want me to follow you, then at least let me stand by you and watch your back. I want you to know that I'd be there if no one would."

Akin to Zoe before, Angel reached for the younger red-haired young woman and wrapped her arms around her for a warm hug. Thinking back to the words Zoe muttered in her sleep, Angelique found in herself some resolve to provide her friend a small shelter against the consuming darkness, or at least try to assuage it.

"If I can ease your fears and your pain, or at least just brush off this loneliness, I'll be there for you, just like how you are here for me. It's the least you deserve. It's the least I can do to prevent you from completely falling."

"...Thank you."

Zoe had instinctively tensed up a little at being hugged without warning, listening to Angelique's words with a hint of doubt. To keep her from falling? I think it might be too late for that. Nonetheless, after a moment's thought, she relaxed and returned the hug. There couldn't be too much harm in letting someone care for now. Maybe it would be fine to have someone that knew a little what she was actually dealing with. Even if it was only what Zoe had just old her. That, and she wasn't sure how many people would have Angel's back right now either.

And at least Angel hadn't tried to pretend Zoe was wrong. Knew that she'd made her choices, that she'd resolved herself to them, that she wasn't undeserving of the burdens she carried. It was hard to believe that the other aberration had offered to help anyway, that she wouldn't turn her back. And maybe, deep down, Zoe had needed to know someone would be there when they saw what she really was.

"Second chances, right?" For both of them. A small smile, feeling closer to losing her composure than she had been in a long while. It was hard to remember the last time someone had offered to look out for her, not without trying to change who she was. And Zoe knew, deep down, that Angel's task would be just as - if not more painful than hers. But in that moment, Zoe felt like they might be okay, if only for a little while. There were a lot of things she could have said. But it wasn't the time for them anymore.

After a moment, she chuckled affectionately. "Happy birthday, rockstar."

Chapter IV: Choices

Angélique | Brent

---

𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟝, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / 𝟙𝟡𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @ERode}

As if it had been a scheduled thing, one of the two black Dodge Charger Hellcats that was so often found missing in the garage from a few hours before noon to almost exactly 6 PM arrived at the mansion. Behind the steering wheel was Angélique Lachance, that same person who regularly took the vehicle for an eight hours road trip every day. Arriving at the garage she looked a bit morose, but it definitively was an improvement from the depressed state of mind she had been having throughout the week, before she spoke with Zoe on the day before today. It had done her good, although what they had discussed only gave Angel more food for thought.

Instead of sitting there depressed and lamenting herself over everything she had done and how her friends were abandoning her one by one, she had found herself to be pondering about what she should become. More precisely, the way she should achieve it. Zoe clearly didn’t want Angel to become the monster she was, but she was ready for that possibility and offered her support for whatever she decided to do. Eventually, what appealed to Angélique was a mix of both. She wanted to protect her friends by any means necessary, without however failing them as an ally, a fellow Mage, a Human. What kept Angel awake at night was not solely the thought of having made herself into a monster, but also the resolve of how to proceed between the fringes of the abyss and the ocean.

The raven-haired Aberration snapped out of her thought as soon as she saw Brent inside the garage, looking like he was waiting for someone. Immediately in her mind, there was a sense of urgency, wanting to drive backwards and return later. But it was too late to back down now, she had already turned off the engine.

Her hands tightened on the wheel. Memories of what had happened at the gym Monday were still vivid in her mind. Had he really been waiting for her to come back, so he could interrogate her some more? Sure, he wasn’t Ernest, but his silent judgement and quietly watching what had happened between Ernest and her without moving an inch had enervated the singing Aberration. She found his presence unsettling.

Angel’s face soured in anxiety, but she tried her best to not let it overtake her. Slowly but eventually, seeing he was not leaving, she opened the door and exited the car.

"Good evening," Brent said, pushing off from the wall as Angelic exited the car. A part of him had anticipated that she'd reverse and drive off again, but there was comfort to be had, at least, in the fact that she hadn't run off immediately. Better than before, perhaps. "Got sick of the island's scenery yet, Angelic?"

He smiled, turning his palms so that they faced her. Unarmed. Unclenched. He wasn't here for a fight. Just answers, as always.

Brent really did read Angel like an open book, didn’t he? Then again, if there was one thing she had learned from all her peers, it was that she was quite easy to read through. As a matter of fact, she was surprised Brent and Ernest had actually believed in her “I am a monster” fake resolve Monday at the gym.

While her face turned to Brent, her eyes behind the sunglasses looked elsewhere, at the door, at the floor, anywhere really. Anywhere but at Brent’s face.

“Y-yeah… can’t hog the car all day long. And I still need to eat.” Angel excused herself as she quickly walked to the trunk to retrieve her bags of personal belongings, her guitar and the cooler she had brought with her for lunch.

And while Angel was thinking of avoiding Brent, it was clear that he had been waiting for her to come back. Figuring she couldn’t evade him forever, she had no other choice but to be blunt with him.

“What do you want, Brent? Didn’t you have enough last time?” She asked, defiantly. Her encounter at the gym with Ernest had ruined her mentally for the next days, until she found a semblance of resolve back yesterday.

"A day trip every day?" he remarked as she unloaded a trunk full of personal belongings. No swimsuit though. Probably cause you can't swim with shades on. The small smile on his face faded quickly enough though, as Angelic's tone shifted. A little sharper. A little harsher. More to the point.

Was she getting somewhere.

"Did you choose this? Or is it just easier for you to? Looked like it was a hard question, so I was willing to give you a few days to think about it."

He let that statement hang in the air, before turning to door.

"Haven't eaten yet, right? For better or worse, your routine's clockwork, so food should be done now."

So he wanted to continue last time’s discussion? Angélique wasn’t sure she was so willing to come back to that whole deal. Her mind was clearer now though, thanks to her talk with Zoe, and Brent didn’t seem like he was aggressive about it. Not that he was ever aggressive, Angel noted, but that was something that had scared her at the gym.

“Can we… discuss about it somewhere more in private? I’d rather not keep standing here with my arms full for a hour.”

The mention of ‘clockwork’ brought back unpleasant memories, going from Wisford to Aaron, but it was in the past now. She still hadn’t made progress concerning his whereabouts, if she had even bothered making any. The more time passed, the more distant she felt to friends that had disappeared. Aaron, Savannah, Alexis. It was selfish, really…

“Yeah… I’ll be grabbing a bite. Maybe after, alright?”

She definitively was faring better than previously this week, from her tone of voice to her posture, even if she there were still cracks showing within her.

Hesitating. Still a few fractures. But there was no overpowering defensiveness this time. Whatever she did on her road trips looked like it helped out, at least. Holding the door open, Brent motioned her through.

"Standing there with your arms full for an hour sounds like good exercise, but yeah, go get some grub. Got a new line of gourmet corndogs lined up just for you."

He wouldn't give her assistance with the load. The arbiter hadn't pushed her through early morning training just so she could shirk from using her strength later on.

"Can’t have me start slacking off, huh?"

Angel wondered if Brent was aware of her daily late night gym visits? Not that she ever noticed him if he ever did, but he seemed to be pretty inquisitive when it came to her case. Or anyone’s, for that matter. Felt like he was the kind of guy who’d observe just about anyone. Him noticing her daily escapade routine kind of confirmed that.

Taking her time bringing everything back to its respective place, the Aberration singer then left her room to go to the kitchen. Much to her surprise, Brent wasn’t lying when he said there were corndogs just for her. With a note even. Shit, did he cook that just for her or was it actually leftovers dedicated for her? She couldn’t tell, but the plate on the table suggested Brent actually knew she was coming back from her trip.

Sitting down, the Voice Mage looked at the corndogs for a moment, scrutinized them. She looked hesitant. It was fishy. Not only the clearly homemade meal, but the whole setting. Why was he going that far for her, after she clearly kept disappointing him in every way possible? He didn’t put any weird shit into her food, would he?

“You better hope it isn’t poisoned or full of laxatives…” Angel remarked as she gave Brent a suspicious glance.

Biting into the corndog, it was clear that whatever he put in there, it wasn’t the usual fast food junk meal that she would buy at the supermarket or in any quick-serve restaurant. There was a melty filling in there. Cheese? It made the whole thing so creamy, so easy to chew and swallow. And the meat inside, it was no ordinary sausage. It wasn't processed, definitively nor pork. It had a back taste of… caribou? No, caribou was tastier than that. Deer? That felt like it. But who the hell would be putting thick slices of deer meat with melted cheese deep fried in batter? Oh, and the batter. It was so buttery, with the perfect mix of salt and spices, making the whole crunchy envellope so pleasing to the taste buds. The whole ingredients combined together into this delicacy was heavenly. Suspiciously divine.

What the hell was that recipe?

Why did it tasted so freaking good?

Before she knew it, she quickly devoured her plate. She wasn’t quite the slow eater, even less so when it was about eating good food. A bad habit she developed for working on her next set of songs without wasting much time on small commodities that was eating.

Angel feared for a moment that it was a cruel scheme or joke from Brent. To make such divine food, only to mix something inside that would make he rregret having tasted something so good. But she had to give credits where due, Brent was quite the inventive cook. It was to be praised really, from a modest cook like Angel was herself.

"I... didn't expect this when you said 'corndogs'. You should open an exotic restaurant, you'd make a fortune."

A brief compliment. Not overwhelmingly showing she loved the meal, but not cold enough to sound unnapreciative.

So this was the chef's pleasure, huh? Seeing a customer wolf down a plate within minutes. To witness a few hours work gone in the amount of time it took for instant noodles to cook. Though Angelic didn't ask for seconds, which may have been the ultimate compliment, Brent nodded regardless.

"Thanks," the arbiter said, "But I'm not that good yet. Basically cheated using my power anyways, so it's not like it took me decades of hard work to create this. Still, glad you enjoyed it."

It was designed to prove that corndogs could be gourmet, even if one was a rich girl that never even tried out McDonalds' before, but if it could appeal to the masses too...well, that's just great then! Still, the slight elation that came from Angelic not choking violently on the creamy white filling didn't distract him from the main mission: that of tying up loose ends.

"So, wanna head up to the roof or something?"

Angélique quirked up an eyebrow at the mention of the roof? Was it really a convenient place to talk? It sure was dramatic in the movies and comics, and certainly private enough because no one would think of a rooftop to look someone for. She didn’t figure Brent for such though.

Still, a first time for everything, she guessed. As long as it didn’t involve something bad happening to them while climbing the roof.

“As long as you aren't going to push me off, okay.”

Angel got up from her seat, bringing the plate into the kitchen’s sink then stopped a few feet away from Brent, waiting for him to take the lead.

"No promises," he replied, grinning.

---

Unlike the hospital, there was no need to bust open a door, but unlike the hospital, the roof of the estate wasn't exactly flat. And thus, without a ladder or anything else, Brent and Angelic had to settle for the third floor patio instead, affording them a decent, if not amazing, view of the estate's ground and the stars above. Naturally drawn by starlight and the veil of darkness that they were embedded in, Brent's gaze shifted upwards, catching familiar cosmic entities.

Arcturus, Polaris, the Scales, the Crux, the Dipper. One by one, his eyes flicked to yet another formation. Despite light pollution, even the mist of the galaxy was faintly visible, an astral beauty only seen by those that looked for it.

"Well? Whenever you're ready."

It had been a while since the last time Angel actually had time to sit down and stargaze. Her life was constantly requiring her to be either shut inside a room all day long to work on a new song, or prepare for upcoming events. Really, the only time she remembered looking at the sky was back when she was just a kid, living a carefree life, in a small house in the middle of corn fields somewhere lost in some distant rural area in Canada.

This scenery evoked a time of peace, which was weird considering the current state of things. She had all the reasons to be worried and anxious, but the settling darkness and the stars above just made her feel relaxed.

Obviously, it took some time for Angel to answer Brent's question, lost in thought and clearly hesitant to reply. But her mind drifted to what Zoe told her, and the promise they made to each other. And Brent's patience allowed the young woman to ease her stressed mind and collect her broken pieces. In the end, his patience would be rewarded with answers.

"I still can't exactly answer you on that. Truth is, Brent, I was never truly convinced about it all. I'm willing to sacrifice my reputation, my dignity even, to the world if it means saving even a single one of you. But..."

A pause, a sign of doubts. The cracks revealing themselves on the façade she had created for Brent and Ernie's assault. "I'm still not sure if I want to end up alone. I don't know if someone like me can carry all those burdens without giving up. I'm not strong. I'm not Zoe. I'm emotionally weak. You of all people should know just how lacking my resolve is."

Angel's face lowered, biting down her lower lip. "I still need time to find myself. Ernest may be right about us X’s having made a mistake, but it still remains a choice we made. You remember when you told me "it's no use thinking of what would have been"? I've... been trying to forge myself a path into the choice I made, but I keep failing even at that. I just don't have you guy's strength of will. Hell, I can't control these destructive impulses without them driving me crazy after a while."

"I keep trying to find a bridge in-between, but I haven't found anything yet. I... still don't know what to do."

Surprisingly, compared to her past interactions with Brent, there were no tears, no trembling voice, no rage, no anger. Only a confused girl opening her heart and soul, plagued with uncertainty and doubts.

Half-hearted. Lukewarm. Neither wanting to strike it out on her own nor wanting to simply be loved and ignore the few sacrifices she'll be making for that affection. Was Angelic just like this? Someone who couldn't figure out what she wanted, even after sampling both sides? Someone so mired by her weakness that she could only fumble around, her morals, her ethics, her ideals shifting the way her stigma blows. She hadn't found an anchor yet. Still hadn't found herself a guidepost.

Amorphous, undisciplined. A black jellyfish floating in an aquarium.

He closed his eyes, internalizing that image. How did you stop a jellyfish from moving from one spectrum to another? Remove it from its tank? Spear it in place? Or...put it into a smaller tank?

"A question, Angelic," the arbiter said, leaning against the railing, "Between Allison and the world, what would you choose?"

Angel remained muted for a moment, wondering how Brent knew about her relationship with Allison. But asking that question wasn't what mattered right now, it was answering what Brent asked of her.

The world that so cruelly rejected her, but needed to be protected, or Allison who loved her even knowing what she did. A hollow love, still plagued by mistrust, but something that the two girls strived for, yearned even.

"I..." the question surprisingly was harder to answer than it should've been. What would Angel be without the world? What would she be without Allison? "I... can't choose both, can I?"

"This is a simplified version of the truck incident. Between Allison and innocent, but violent regulars, what would your choice be?"

Again, a lengthy pause. Words from different classmates this week replayed in her head. Ernest's hatred, Allison's distrust, Brent's disappointment, Zoe's warning. She kept repeating the key interactions in her mind, and eventually she had realized it. No one wanted her to be this way. They all, whether by expectations or either from a pure moral pont-ov-view, didn't want to see the fallen idol fall further into the abyss and become the monster her X mark represented.

"I'd do anything for Allison..."

A selfish reason, really. But that's what humans are made of, selfishness. The girl was one of Angel's only valid reasson to live now. She didn't know what she would do without her love. "That's why... I'd choose the world."

Because it broke her heart to see Allison saying that she didn't trust her anymore. "Because that's what she would want me to do. What you guys expect ourselves to be. What I should be doing."

"Then that," Brent said, "That's your anchor. If you don't know what to do, if you're been torn apart between yourself and your stigma, that's your guidepost."

A part of him disliked Angelic for choosing others over her loved ones. Another part of him recognized that her choice was different from Chris's.

"Until you know who you are, live for her. See what that path is like. Follow it consistently. No swerves, no doubts."

A smile broke out then, the same as always.

"It's not the healthiest thing to do, but it's something, right?"

“I… guess. Yes.” Angélique only managed to answer. “I… can’t make promises. They just seem too easy to break these days. But… I’ll try my best. No, I’ll do it.”

Until the end, one way or the others.

"See how it goes and all, eh?"

Brent paused, thinking.

"Oh yeah, you planning on going for a midnight rendezvous with her tonight?"

Angel felt her cheeks becoming red, obviously aware that either she had been going to visit Allison late at night in her room or vice versa to keep each other's company and have a good time together, and sometimes even stayed together for the whole night.

"Brent, gee, why do you need to ask me that?"

"Yes or no, Angelic? Let's keep this simple."

"Y-yes... I'll surely see her."

"Aight, I'll keep it low then."

And with that, Brent clenched his fist and gut-jabbed Angelic.

It was too dark to see what Brent was about to do, and she had lowered her guard enough around him to see that punch coming. It caught her square in the stomach, and in her surprise gave out a yelp of surprise as pain rushed to her midsection.

"God I... fucking hate... you." Angel staggered as she bent and clutched her affected area, choking the words out.

"Hey now," Brent grinned, patting Angelic on the back, "I warned you that it wasn't going to be a slap."

She probably deserved it, but given the situation they were in this week, and the fact that Ernie had already tried assaulting Angel while Brent only watched, she didn't so much feel it at 'no hard-feelings'. She would have rather taken that punch to the shoulder like boys usually do between themselves, or see it coming instead of a sneaky jab in the dark.

"You're an asshole." was the only thing that Angélique said as she recovered, replacing her shades over her scowl.

"Yeah, basically. Now go get her, rocker girl," Brent waved, staying in the patio. "The night's young and life's short, after all."

Letting out a displeased "hmph", the raven-haired Aberration stormed out of the balcony, returning inside the mansion. Definitively pissed, but with yet another burden taken off her shoulders in the end.

Chapter V: Understanding

Angélique | Sophia

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𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥𝕖𝕞𝕓𝕖𝕣 𝟚𝟞, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 // 𝟚𝟘𝟘𝟘

---

_{Collab with @VampireOracle}

While Angélique had been gone from the mansion for most of the days everyday, it seemed like she could never get really used to staying inside. It had not even been two hours that she had returned from her road trip, she already felt the urge to be leaving the premises. The dark and brooding atmosphere that permeated the walls of the estate because of what happened Monday was making the Mage-turned rockstar feel uneasy around the others. If possible, she would have preferred to be left alone, but with a class of nearly twenty dysfunctional students, it was a hard thing to achieve, as the past few days proved to her.

Still, while she yearned to move away from here, she used the Hellcat enough for today. Instead, the raven-haired Aberration thought of taking a stroll in the forest, for once. Follow the trail and admire the scenery while she was lost in thoughts.

As strange of a coincidence as it would be, her path would eventually cross Sophia’s. A strange coincidence indeed, for Angel had rarely seen Sophia at the mansion. Being away from the estate much of the day, on top of Sophia not exactly seen much at all in general, the younger girl was a rare sight to the oldest member of Unit B.

While Angélique felt like being alone, there was something inside her that felt agitated upon seeing Sophia. She couldn’t run away from the others. She had already spoken with a few others despite her initial wishes and inner turmoil. And then there was the pang of guilt that grew as the young woman remembered about Washington, how much of an asshole she had been towards her youngest peer.

“Hey, Sophia. How… are you?”

Shit, those words and that faint hesitation really sounded awkward, especially when it was almost those same words that had triggered Sophia’s harsh words back in DC. Who knew that Angel would one day feel so tense for such a simple everyday greeting?

Five full days since their arrival at the estate. Today was the sixth. What had she done? What was she doing? Today was definitely a down day, but then, hadn't all the other days been too? By now the bit of excitement that she had felt upon getting Heidi back had all worn away, for though she loved Heidi, the cat couldn't solve everything for her. After spending the day cooped up inside with no motivation to do anything, not even to read, she needed to get out. Take a walk and try not to feel so trapped.

Evenings were her decided favorite time of day, that time when everything began to get dark but not dark enough for it to be too scary. When everything began to wind down. Previously much more tense, Sophia was beginning to relax into the cool air when words interrupted her thoughts.

She knew that voice. Well enough to be able to name the owner of that voice without even needing to look. And that was a bad thing. Sophia slowed to a stop, already tense inside although she made an effort to keep from tensing on the outside. Thoughts of what had happened last time came flooding in.

Shut the door.

Walk away.

Escape.

To put it lightly, Sophia was not pleased to see the girl. What did Angélique think of her now? She couldn't face the Aberration. She couldn't face anyone right now. Couldn't face anyone ever. But still, Sophia forced herself to look at Angélique, though she didn't so far as to attempt a smile. Instead, she gazed at her with a blank neutral expression, though her eyes seemed tired and... unusually dark against her skin. Trick of the light, perhaps.

She struggled to come up with a suitable answer. She wanted to ask Angélique why she cared like she had once asked Brent, but that hadn't gone well. She could retort, but she had no energy or fire for that today. Give her what she wants. Her mind flew back to go over all she had seen and heard of Angélique, trying to analyze her behaviour to come up with something suitable. She didn't know the Aberration well, but... at last her mind latched onto something that might work.

Struggling as usual to force out the words, she spoke quietly. "Hi, Angélique. I--it's been a lot, but... after sorting through everything... I think I'll be... okay." The last word came out as a sigh. Was that good enough? Enough uncertainty to show that she wasn't lying, but enough to reassure the girl that she was recovering from the battle? Not going to work.

It was obvious to Angel that Sophia wasn’t comfortable around her. She couldn’t blame her, really, after the animosity that sparked between the two of them at DC. They had both been under a lot of stress, and in their moment of panic they both exchanged harsh words to each other. Angélique had taken time to reflect upon that these last few days, and realized just how immature she had been towards the younger girl. She was the oldest of their class, she should’ve been the one to set an example. Instead, she did quite the opposite. Fredric was right about her, after the Flag Football match. She was an immature and pampered celebrity.

It was time to step up, stop being such an ass. That much she realized in the course of this week, after speaking with the others. Things have changed, mostly for the worse, but some people enlightened Angel about what she had become, what she was about to become, and what she is now. In the end, it was up to her to muster the will to make things better for herself, instead of blaming it all on what was happening and her Stigma.

“I’m… glad to know that.”

Another awkward silence. Truly, those two were poor at talking to each other.

“Listen, Sophia. I… I’m not good beating around the bush. I’m sorry if I’m too direct but…”

A pause, breathing in, trying to come up with the best way to settle things with Sophia without hurting her, or herself for all that mattered. It was already tough having lost Ernest and Brent’s friendship (and possibly Allison’s love?), she didn’t want to add someone else to her black list.

“I’m sorry for being such an assho- a jerk to you back there. Those were stuff that I shouldn’t have said, given the circumstances. I was being immature and clearly not a good teammate. I should've been more considerate. You went through the same pain as I did. I had no right to criticize you after what happened.”

A slight, almost inperceptable narrowing of her eyes was Sophia's reponse as she noticed how Angélique cut off a swear word to replace it with something milder. But she didn't remark on it despite how she disliked that kind of... condescending behavior, because Angélique was apologizing. Apologizing. Oh, how she hated apologies. Didn't like giving them, and most of the time didn't like recieving them.

Besides, after thinking about the incident during the past days, Sophia wasn't sure how much the Aberration had to apologize for. Angélique had only tried to make sure she was okay, and had even ended up getting her to help. It would have been more appropiate to save the "how are you" conversation till after the battle, but she could have just given a one word answer and moved on. Wasn't Angélique's fault that Sophia didn't like being asked those sort of questions. It had been herself who had flared up over so little, becoming that sarcastic person that no one liked.

Sophia's jaw clenched, portraying a hint of anger at herself.

But how was she supposed to convey all those thoughts to Angélique when she couldn't communicate properly? Her hand moved behind her back and clenched as an output for her frustration and anxiety, where the Aberration couldn't quite see what Sophia was doing. "It's fine." Those words came out curt. Too forced as she tried to get herself to talk. "Y-- It's over."

Angélique wasn’t good at seeing faces, given her natural eyesight problem, adding how obscured it was as well now given she was wearing sunglasses even as the sun had just begun settling in the horizon. However, her hearing was perfectly conditioned, trained even, for her years spent as a professional in the music. Not only was the answer weird, it seemed forced, even. Angel could not help but wonder if there was still bitterness inside Sophia’s voice, or if it was just a product of her imagination.

But whether it was because the fallen idol was now weary of being deceived by people who pretended they were fine with her and revealed themselves later to be people who actually hated her, or if it was because Angel was naturally straightforward, she couldn’t bear knowing Sophia had a grudge against her without knowing the reasons why. Ernest told her the truth harshly, Emma was tired of her shit, and Brent’s expectations had been constantly crushed by her ever-changing resolve. What was the reason Sophia hated her for? She wanted to know. Settle it once and for all and see whether she should leave the girl alone from now on or try to repair the broken pieces.

“Sophia… please, tell me what’s wrong. If there’s something I did that’s piss- angering you, I want to know. I… prefer to know if you hate me or not.”

Compared to DC, Angel’s voice sported no ill will nor frustration. It was calm, sorrowful even, a hint of disappointment when she was referring to herself. The ex-rockstar's face also showed just as much expression as her voice, although her hidden eyes could not reveal that she was looking away in shame.

No. No no no. Not like that. It wasn't like that. Sophia didn't hate Angélique. Apart from the argument they had had during the attack on DC, Angélique had done nothing wrong. And that was over. Though she would have thought it impossible, Sophia's current feelings plummeted further. She wanted to walk away so she wouldn't have to deal with this. But this Aberration here thought that she was hated, and Sophia had to change that. It wouldn't do to leave Angélique here like this. How, though? It shouldn't be too hard to think up the words that she could say... she hadn't been nicknamed EQ along with other things by her older sister for nothing. But that was when she was talking to her sister, the person closest to her. Not someone she barely knew.

Still, she had to try.

As Sophia internally ran sentences over in her head, cutting and pasting as if in a Word document, she was too aware of how, at the same time, her hands and face were heating up as her heatbeat quickened. Too aware of how the sudden increase in pressure on her resulted in shaky hands and a light head. So nervous. The hand behind her back loosened as her index finger moved rapidly by her side, subconsiously tracing letters and words.

She couldn't get it right.

Only think about how to show her her thoughts are wrong. Don't think about what she will think about you in the days afterwards. Think only about now. Now. If you don't do something now, it will be worse later. Better now than walk away without saying anything. She was taking too long. Just use what you have.

Sophia closed her eyes as she spoke. "I don't... hate you. And I don't want you thinking that. All... all you were t-trying to do was make sure I was okay." Here her voice dropped so low it was nothing more than a whisper. "And that's admirable." Something she wanted to do. Help. Reassure. Her eyelids flew open, showing dark eyes that were suddenly filled with conviction. "I don't hate you." The moment Sophia finished speaking though, she took a step backward. And another two more before she stopped. The girl was now obviously shaken up, though why would probably a mystery to any onlooker. I failed.

Shut the door.

Walk away.

Escape.

Angel was taken aback by the sudden show of nervousness. When Sophia’s words came, some deeper part of herself was relieved to know that, but her curiosity only grew as the questions only grew.

When the black-haired singer rose a hand as if to catch up to the girl that seemed like she would start running away from a monster, Angel stopped dead in her tracks, her arm frozen. At that moment, she realized it, or thought of it that way. Angélique was intimidating Sophia. Whether it was because of her age, her look, her height, her voice or her straightforwardness, the much younger girl seemed as if she was terrorized by the raven-haired grown woman. Even if it wasn’t probably what was going on in Sophia’s mind, Angélique believed she was the source of that anxiety.

Sighing, the Aberration’s arm dropped back to her side. She probably had done enough for today. Sophia clearly wasn’t feeling well talking to Angel right now. As much as she wanted to press forward, she should know better. Forcing friendship on people did the opposite actually. Angélique now knew Sophia didn’t hate her, which probably should be enough for now.

“I’m sorry… I didn’t mean to be so brash about it. I’m glad that you think that way.” Angel finally spoke with a grateful tone. “I probably doesn’t deserve your kindness, bit still… if we ever come to an understanding one day, that will make me only happier.”

Angel’s head lowered, looking back as if she was about to leave herself. She was considering it, if her presence was making the young Arbiter uncomfortable, then she should just disappear from her sight. But if she was to leave like that, she wanted to convey her thoughts to Sophia, should they never get the opportunity or the will to speak to each other.

“Truth is, I wanted to tell you that the one who’s most admirable here is you. You’re young, a few years separating from most of us, but you’ve handled yourself well out there, better than most of us actually even. Sure we could do without the sarcasm, but…” Angélique let out a heartfelt chuckle, remembering her first actual talk with Sophia in DC “I wasn’t being better myself, if only trying to give you a push to trust in your powers. In reality, you remind me of myself, if only quieter, but still with the same attitude.”

A sigh, quickly followed by a warming smile “You’re way younger than me, but I still make the mistake to treat you like a child. Zhang told us on our first night at USARILN, remember? ‘A child means nothing here.’ I think I’ve always tried to reject that, and being the oldest in our class was driving me to be a responsible adult and look after everyone. But look at what I did. I’ve failed to meet my own expectations, and maybe the others’ as well…”

Her warming smile turned a bit sour, realizing her failing may have had way more impact on others than she thought. “Point is, Point is, I’m glad that I had someone with her head on her shoulders for a teammate. I just wanted to let you know that, and I’ll be looking forward to work with you again in the future.”

Realizing her speech took longer than she expected, Angel scratched the back of her head, an embarrassed smile etched onto her lips “I’m sorry if I’m being an emotional creep on you. I should go before my weirdness makes you run away.”

Another heartily chuckle, however faintly touched with sadness as the Voice Mage turned and began walking.

Failed, failed, failed. The words were wrong, weren't they? Too quiet, too forced, which made it sound too faked. Sophia didn't fake herself. At least... very rarely. Only when it was necessary if she was to reassure or comfort someone properly. Like now? No. She meant it. Meant every word. Angélique killed all those people. But she had done it to keep off the regulars. It was far from the best solution, but surely Angélique knew that. Did the Aberration regret it? At least Angélique had done something. Unlike someone.

Thinking too much about the attack on DC, Sophia almost missed what Angélique was starting to say. Almost. Managing to pull herself back to pay attention to the girl in front of her once she began talking, Sophia heard everything. And it wasn't right.

Angélique was putting herself down, wasn't she? Trying to raise someone else up while critizing herself heavily. Too heavily. She didn't need to praise. Didn't deserve it. All that Angélique was praising her for wasn't true. She didn't have a level head, she just did nothing. To quote Matilda: she was hopeless when it came to a lot of things. Everything? Sophia suddenly wondered if there was a word that the Aberration constantly referred to herself with on the inside. Hopeless? Faliure? Weak?

It couldn't do, it wouldn't do. Just now Sophia had been unwilling to let Angélique walk away thinking that she was hated; now Sophia was unwilling to let the Aberration leave in such a mindset. You're not an emotional creep, Angélique. You have no idea. An inner wry smile. There wasn't enough time to think it through properly, she had to say something now. The words burst out of Sophia's mouth abruptly, calling after the Aberration. "You're not hopeless, Angélique." Bad idea. Good idea? Half of her regretted not letting Angélique just walk away, while the other half wanted the girl to turn around.

The older Aberration stopped after hearing her name being called out from Sophia. She felt strange inside, hearing these words coming out from the silent Arbiter. Had she misjudged her classmates, again? So many were so willing to give her a second chance, even if they knew what she did. What drove them to do such a thing? Was is pity, or compassion?

"Maybe..." Angel only replied, turning slowly to Sophia. "I've been hearing that a lot lately. But Sophia, do I really deserve this second chance, even though the world only knows the better half of our story?"

Second chance. Better half of the story. The evacuation slaughter. Of course that would be the topic of the week. Of the month. The Aberration had been given a second chance, by Sophia along with whichever others were being referred to. So Angélique should take it. Keep trying to improve. Even if she hadn't been given a second chance, she could work hard to earn one. If she was determined enough. That wasn't the point, though.

There were so many sentences Sophia could conjour up, ones that she thought could be uplifting, pessimistic, sarcastic, motivating.

'You might never be able to undo what you did there. But that's no reason to stop thinking that you can't improve. That you can't get better at prevention and protection combined.' Or: 'Well, then. If you think you don't deserve this chance, then that's it. I'm not going to stop you, go on and mope about how awful you are.'

She had continued this conversation when it could have ended, so it was her job to answer properly. But she couldn't. Couldn't. Just now she had somehow been able to speak, to start the conversation that was supposed to end with Angélique walking away feeling more confident. But for some reason, now she found she couldn't speak. Sophia's lips parted slightly, but nothing would come out. She was straining visibly, still flushed and shaky and taking breaths that were a little too quick to be normal. Straining against those inner gates that wouldn't let her out. She said nothing.

Had Angélique seen the signs, she would have probably inquired about Sophia, or tried to find a way to ease her. Or perhaps she wouldn’t have tried. She already did enough that would cause anyone unacquainted to her feel uncomfortable. God knew just how many people Angel’s straightforward attitude cause much unease.

The fallen idol wasn’t sure whether Sophia’s silence meant another awkward discomfort she had caused in the Arbiter, or if it was because the younger girl didn’t believe in second chances. Sophia had been trying to be kind on Angélique so far up until now, so it was more likely she had been making the girl uneasy with her self-questioning behavior.

Realizing it was probably time she let go of the girl and stop being such a bother to her, Angélique held up her hand, offering Sophia a waving gesture of goodbye. “Well then, I should get going. If you want to have a talk one day, my name’s on the door.” Angel offered the girl a smile. “Take care, Sophia. Have a good night.” she said before walking away.

Sophia wondered what Angélique took the silence to mean. Nothing good, probably. As the girl turned to walk away, she made no move to stop her this time. It was over. Angélique was officially now someone that Sophia had failed with. She couldn't blame her for leaving. What fun was it to stand there and watch a timid girl struggle to find words? Answer: it wasn't fun. What other choice had Sophia left the Aberration? Answer: none. No other choice.

She could have stayed and waited. The thought whispered through her head, even as she berated herself for even considering that possibility again. Stay? Hah. Of course not. No one waited. It was a waste of time, when the end result would probably still contain no words.

There was no response to Angélique's goodbye, only a silent mouthing of a word as Sophia put her will into standing still and quiet until the girl finally rounded a corner and disappeared out of sight. Then it was to the nearest tree, clutching at the bark and pressing against the rough surface as her chest shuddered with each shaky breath and sob.

—(••[ 𝕎𝕀𝕊ℍ𝔼𝔸𝕋𝔼ℝ ]••)—

---

𝕊𝕦𝕟: 𝕊𝕖𝕡𝕥. 𝟚𝟘, 𝟚𝟘𝟚𝟘 / / 𝔹𝕒𝕝𝕕 ℍ𝕖𝕒𝕕 𝕀𝕤𝕝𝕒𝕟𝕕 / / ℤ𝕙𝕒𝕟𝕘'𝕤 𝔼𝕤𝕥𝕒𝕥𝕖 / / ~𝟚𝟚𝟘𝟘

---

Finally… darkness…

Shortly after the ‘USARILN Special Evacuation Unit’ was brought away inside the trucks, Angélique faded into unconsciousness, her body and mind no longer able to repel the insidious call to sleep. Now that she was no longer needed, or rather felt the need to make herself useful and redeem herself from her mistakes, she submitted herself to this loss. Her body and soul would be able to recover now that stopped overexerting herself.

Despite being administered Christmas’ blood and healed from her blood loss, it still didn’t cure the raven-haired Aberration from the magical exhaustion she had been pushing herself throughout the afternoon. She simply laid there, unresponsive, although jerking around and muttering apologetic words in her sleep a few times, as she was gripped by the usual nightmares that haunted her slumber. For the entire trip, she was oblivious to the road that led them to the Zhang’s personal estate.

When she woke up, Angélique was in an infirmary of sorts. God, this scenery became the more frequent, and this downright displeased the fallen idol. When she tried to grogilly stand up, a nurse nearby attended to her waking. What first struck Angel was the tone of the maid’s voice. It wasn’t dripping with hate, like what she had been used to in her previous hospital visits. Then, what surprised her the most was the mark on the young woman’s face, barely as old as Angel was.

An Arbiter?

The maid was courteous enough to lead the Aberration back to her assigned room after making sure she was good enough to stand on her own. Again, the young raven-haired woman was stricken by surprise to see her name so neatly engraved into a plaque, indicating what would be her room. Who had put effort into doing so much for Unit B? When she entered the room, it’s a if she had entered a traditional version of her room. As a matter of fact, the architecture looked a lot like the ones she used to see in the more sophisticated parts of a rural district.

As a matter of fact, it looks a lot like Grandma’s home

Angel took some time to familiarize with her surroundings. The maid instructed her the same directives that were given to the others earlier today, before leaving the Aberration to her things.

It was surprising to see almost all of her stuff in this room. Clothes from Washington and the Institute, it’s as if it was already predetermined they were going to live here. Curiosity had stricken Angel, and she had the whole night to figure it out.

She spent the whole night browsing on her phone. She looked at maps, locating where exactly they were. She took in what was going on in Washington, which eventually led her to link and notifications from her phone about the recent updates about USARILN’s new prodigies. And she was at the middle of this storm, along the others. There was some strange sense of relief to no longer be referred to ‘Banshee’, but there was some sort of irritation to be called ‘Siren’, not for the mythic creature’s enticing songs, but for the loud blaring sound police sirens made. IT was sort of humiliating to be compared to such, really.

But what Angel found the most terrifying were the footages. It all displayed her classmates, herself included, in acts of selfless heroism. There wasn’t a single trace of the tragedy that costed more than a few dozens life, orchestrated by the evacuation unit. This whole thing looked like an advertisement campaign to benefit the new USARIL kids. Whoever leaked these videos clearly wanted to show the world that these new emerging Subnaturals were heroes.

And that’s what made Angélique falter. She had resolved herself so much to be seen as a new monster, the ‘Banshee’ that everyone would be so afraid of. A monster that would outright terrify anyone sane enough to steer clear of her and her teammates if situation where fear would be the most efficient tool to get people moving, like in Washington.

But everything was for naught with these footages. People all over the internet now at mitigated opinions about her. Of course, there were the usual comments that she was a Subnatural and thus unworthy of trust, but there also the mentions of her that had killed people in the past and now some people even saying that she was redeeming herself by saving who she could.

So in reality, her reputation only grew for the better thanks to all that was leaked. She wasn’t regarded as solely a murderer now, she was starting to be perceived as a redeeming criminal. What does it all meant? Did mean that she was given a second chance, as undeserving as she was? Was it a door that would allow her to clear some of that mud over her name?

Angel was at a loss of what to do. She wanted to be strong, to stand up for her friends, to take the blame and do things that they couldn’t do, couldn’t afford to soil their reputation with. She needed to become the monster so that her other teammates would shine brighter. But on the opposite spectrum, she was given a second chance to make things right, even after what she did. Should she grab onto that buoy and try to wrench herself out from the abyss that was trying to claim her.

Doubts plagued the fallen Banshee-turning Siren. Her mind kept asking these questions as she navigated through the web and found more footage of her team, more gossips, more rumors.

Spending the entire night awake getting herself familiarized with her new surroundings and getting herself acquainted with the news about everything that happened while she was unconscious, sleep eventually tried to claim her once more.

But the insistent ringing of notifications coupled with the buzzing vibrations of her phone against the night table kept her awake as a tired Angel went to look at who could’ve texted her at five in the morning.