All eyes were drawn to the robed woman that strode down the cobbled street. Not surprising for a sorcerer like herself. Many people held some sort of frightened awe and respect toward those that dabbled in the arcane. But perhaps it wasn't the fact that she carried a staff and spell book. Maybe it was instead of the rather unusual amount of silver adornments that decorated her. She could hear the whispers as she passed. She knew that they were disapproving of her frivolousness, that she could have used that wealth for better purposes.
'What would be the point of having some amount of income if not to spend at least a little on yourself?' she mused, keeping her head held high as she made her way toward a large manor. 'Besides. I am not going to be here for long.' The sorcerer didn't bother with touching the brass knocker that was on the door, instead waltzing through as if it were her own residence.
Even in there, she could hear the titters of the hired help as she ascended the stairs. Their talk was less scornful and more... excited. Perhaps their lord had told them of her eventual arrival. Perhaps they had never met someone like her before. It didn't matter. She had business to attend to. Stopping at a set of double doors, she made to open them like she did the entryway.
"Ah, pardon me, madam." a voice said from a few feet away.
She glanced to the side, mildly startled. An aged servant stood at arms' length away from her, dressed somewhat better than that of the others she had seen earlier. 'The head servant.' she thought before nodding in his general direction, noting his presence.
"Are you perhaps the sorcerer that our lord has hired?" he asked, wringing his hands.
Again, she nodded, preferring not to waste too many words on idle chatter.
"Yes, well... very good, very good." he said, coughing, "However... perhaps it is more prudent... You see, the lord of the manor would like it if you would wait only a moment. He is rather busy..."
She looked over at the door, then back at the head servant. Closing her eyes, she let out a slow breath.
"For someone who was rather in a hurry to see me," she said, her voice low and ominous, "I would think it better make my arrival known now."
"Of course! Of course, madam," the head servant replied, the warning tone she had taken not reaching his brain, "However... the lord is rather busy..."
"The lord will see me now." she replied, a ball of arcane energy crackling in her palm for only a moment before she thrust her hand out.
The head servant was blasted off his feet and sent into a wall, the darts singeing his tunic and his head cracking against the wall. She gave a small 'hmph' of annoyance before returning her gaze to the door.
"I hope that he was an animated corpse like I was told." she muttered, "I'd hate to find out that I caused harm to an innocent because of my lack of foresight."
Closing her eyes, she placed her hand on the door and released a breath. Her brow furrowed as she tried to concentrate on the room beyond. She pulled away, her lip curling back in disgust.
"Tch. Something's blocking the spell. Should've known." she hissed.
She took a step back and kicked at the doorknob, hoping for results. All she got was a slightly dented knob and a gradually throbbing pain in the arch of her foot. She was hoping that she wouldn't have to use up any more of her magic for this obstacle. 'It's times like these I wish I had taken up the offer of that rogue's help.' she thought as she hobbled back a few steps. 'Perhaps there is another way in...'
He looked down at the slip of paper in his hand before looking back up at the colossal building before him. The address matched, but he still found himself in disbelief.
How did he find himself in front of the Harkness Industries tower?
Shoving the piece of paper back into his jeans pocket, he made his way to the front doors. For an enterprise that was technology-based, it didn't bear the aura of something modern and stark. Sure the outside was how one would imagine- made of shiny steel and tinted glass windows- but there were other touches that made it seem more... natural. The lawns were a little unkempt with grass a little taller than normal and the flowering shrubs were a different array of colors.
"Strange..." he murmured as he pushed the doors open to the lobby.
Soft piano music could be heard through the speakers, occasionally being clipped short by a call on the intercom for someone to reach somewhere. The lights were shut off, only allowing the sunlight to stream through from the windows. At a desk in the right-hand corner of the room sat a woman with long, honey-blonde hair swept up in a messy knot, working at a computer. He approached the desk.
"Excuse me." he said.
The woman looked up at him, bright silver eyes framed in deep red-rimmed glasses.
"Yes? May I help you?" she asked.
"I was called by the CEO a couple days ago," he explained, "About a freelance job?"
"Ah," she replied as she ran a finger down a notebook, "Yes, I remember. Dom had mentioned that at dinner yesterday. You're Mr. Fei, correct?"
He nodded as she got up, running her hands down her skirt to straighten it out. She walked out from behind her desk.
"If you will follow me, I'll take you to his office." she said.
"But what about-?" he began, turning his head slightly to the now-empty reception desk.
"You don't need to worry about that. It'll only be a moment." she replied, walking down the hall.
His eyebrows creased together slightly as he followed a few paces behind her. She stopped at an elevator and pressed a button, causing the doors to open. The receptionist stepped inside with him following suit a moment later. With another push of the button, the two started their ascent to the top floor.
He glanced over at the woman at the corner of his eye. She seemed normal. Well, as normal as anyone could get in the city he lived in. But her mannerisms puzzled her. No regular secretary would take time out of their schedule to escort someone to their CEO. Most of the time, he remembered, they would merely wave someone in the direction they needed to go. But she...
The elevator came to a halt and the doors opened. Now this was what he expected of a CEO's office to look like. Large, open, and almost overwhelming. The walls were nothing but windows. A few bookcases could be seen scattered about alongside some tables with chairs. There were a few odds and ends he found peculiar: photography equipment leaning against a bookcase, an easel closed and on its side with canvases behind it, paintings half-finished. At the very back was a large black desk, a leather chair turned away from the elevator door, its occupant facing the skyline.
"Dom," the receptionist said, "Mr. Fei is here to see you."
"Thanks, Bianca," a voice said from the chair, a pale hand appearing from it, "I can take things over from here."
She turned on her heel and made her way to the elevator. He looked over his shoulder in enough time to see the doors close on her. Her expression was that of a small smile. He took that as a good sign.
"You know," the CEO said, causing him to face the chair again, "It's rather creepy to have someone simply stare at their potential employer."
"Uh... sorry." he said, taking a seat in the chair across from the desk.
There was a soft laugh before the chair turned around. His eyes widened. The man that was seeing... He couldn't have been any older than he was! His hair was a deep navy blue that sat in slight waves at his shoulders and dressed in a pressed white suit. Part of him was wondering if this was some kind of elaborate prank...
"You seem rather surprised." Dom said, raising an eyebrow.
"Um... mildly." he said, "I was expecting someone..."
"Older?" he replied, smirking a little, "I get that a lot from new hires. They come into my office expecting someone that looks like someone they've seen in a magazine: old and looks powerful."
He wasn't quite sure, but something about his attitude was rather off-putting. He seemed too easy-going, too carefree. Why was someone like him running a corporation?
"But," Dom replied, "we're not here to talk about appearances."
"You had said you had a job for me?" he said.
"A job, yes," Dom said, "But I feel that there is... more to it than that."
"More to it." he replied, feeling alarm bells going off, "What do you mean?"
"Exactly that." Dom stated, "Let's just say I know a lot there is to know about you, Daymian Fei. A lot that most probably don't."
Daymian's eyes narrowed at his statement, his hands clenching.
"Sounds like you've been doing some digging into my background." Daymian said.
"Well, I had to," Dom replied, "Don't all employers have to look into potential employee's backgrounds?"
"From the way you put it," he stated, "You did more than just a cursory look-through of it."
The CEO gave a slight laugh.
"What's so funny?" Daymian said.
"You are defensive," Dom replied, "I wonder if that's paranoia or something else talking."
"I have every right to be defensive," Daymian hissed, "No one looking for employees would go through someone's background so much that just want to hire them for basic work."
He leaned in to look Dom in the face. He noticed that he too had the same silver eyes as the receptionist.
"Especially if they say that there is more to the job than what is to be believed." he said in a low voice.
Dom leaned back slightly in his seat. His face was as calm as it was before, but the easy-going air he felt before from him was gone. Instead it was replaced with one that exuded seriousness.
"So," Daymian said, "What do you want from me?"
"To the point," Dom said, "I like that."
Dom got up out from his seat and walked around the desk to face him, hands in his pockets.
"I am aware of your skills in dealing with computers- hacking and otherwise." Dom said, "The job for you is simple. I need you to do some heavy upgrading to my company's mainframe as well as a few other places."
"That can't be it." Daymian said, shaking his head.
"It isn't." Dom replied, "I am in need of some information as well."
"Information. On what?" Daymian asked.
"I need the current location of my twin brother." Dom said, causing Daymian's eyes to widen, "His location and his potential plans against me."
"You have a twin?" Daymian replied.
"Yes, and he is just as ruthless and as cutthroat as your own brother, Darius." Dom stated as Daymian gave a start. Dom smiled knowingly, but that same smile didn't reach his eyes, "I did a lot more digging than you probably thought, didn't I?"
"But... how?" Daymian said, hoarsely.
"I have my own skills in investigation," Dom said, "It comes with the package of being in a position of power, especially one you don't necessarily want."
Daymian slouched in his seat, trying to take in what Dom had said. This was not what he had expected when he came into this building. He was only expecting a simple job, one that would get him to his next job when it came up. Not this... Not some young entrepreneur knowing more about himself than most of his friends did.
"I don't understand..." Daymian said, "You tell me you need me for a specific job and then go on to say you know about... about my brother. Why? For what purpose?"
Dom looked to the side, out the window. His expression was replaced with one of tired frustration and worry.
"I said I know a lot about you," Dom explained, "And, in a strange way, I know a lot of what you're going through. Not the exact same experiences, mind you, but the general summary of it all.
"Perhaps it's a strange kinship I feel with you, to know that there is someone that has the same sort of problems I have, yet also different," he continued, "That's why I feel that you can be of benefit to me, as I could be a benefit to you."
Daymian looked at him in confusion. How could he help him?
"You don't know what you're talking about," Daymian said, "We may share some similarities, but other than that... there's no way you could possibly be of help to me. What could you possibly do?"
"A lot more than you could imagine." Dom said, "I may not be an angel or a demon like some are here, but I am certainly not human."
"Not human?" Daymian repeated, "Then what..."
He noticed as Dom grinned slightly that his canines had elongated. A shiver ran down his spine.
"My father passed down more than just his company to me." Dom replied, "Vampirism can have some perks."
"That won't help much," Daymian explained, "If you plan on helping me out, it'll take more than just you sucking someone dry."
"True, it would. But being persuasive when parties are unwilling to divulge information is also a plus." Dom said.
"It sounds like your offer is to gain information on Darius' whereabouts using your abilities." Daymian said.
"That is if he makes himself too scarce." Dom said, "I can also find out what he could possibly be planning and give you the edge you need to be on the defensive."
"That sounds oddly familiar." Daymian replied.
"Sounds almost like the job I'm offering you, isn't it?" Dom stated with a smirk, "In that case, it almost balances itself out."
He wasn't too sure on that, but Dom seemed confident. He knew Darius. He knew that he wasn't going to fall victim to whatever Dom had planned.
"... I don't think you know how dangerous that could be." Daymian said.
"If it weren't for the fact that I have been in dangerous situations before that didn't concern business, I'd agree with you." Dom replied, "But trust me when I say, I think I know what I'm doing."
"Hmn..." Daymian replied, looking away uneasily.
"... I understand your concern, Daymian." Dom said, "Really. I'd rather not put anyone in the line of fire when it comes to dealing with Cecil. But if there's one thing I do know, it's that I'd rather have someone who is capable of dealing with a dangerous person and know what they're doing than someone who is cocky and headed for annihilation."
Daymian looked at him. Their gazes held for a moment.
"Besides, we both have something- someone- to protect, don't we?" Dom said, "Someone that we don't want to be hurt by those that want us dead."
Daymian's thoughts drifted slightly on a girl with shoulder length copper hair. In his vision, he saw her tending to a sick child in a hospital. A small smile came across his face.
"... Think about it." Dom said, "If you want to take the offer, let me know when you have the answer."
Daymian got up from the seat and turned uneasily away from Dom. He glanced over his shoulder to see him almost sagging against the desk.
"... You said you had something- or more of, someone to protect, right?" Daymian asked, "Who?"
"... I think you know the answer to that." Dom said, "If she's as important to me as yours is to you, then you know why I wouldn't want my brother anywhere near her."
"... Yeah. I know." Daymian said, "When do you need me to start?"
"... Whenever you can." Dom replied, "And I will have information for you when I have it ready."
"Alright." Daymian stated as the doors to the elevator opened.
"Thank you." Dom said when he stepped inside and the doors shut behind him.
---***---
"Does he really think he can help?" Mordecai asked, crossing his arms as he sat at the table in the kitchen.
"He says he can," Daymian said, turning the cup of coffee in his hands, "To be honest, I'm not sure he has that kind of power."
"Good to be skeptical," Mordecai said with a nod, "Harkness... I've heard that name before."
"He said that his father was the one to pass down his vampirism to him." Daymian explained, "Whether or not that means he was born one or turned..."
"Oh I know he's born one," Mordecai replied, "The only person he ever turned was his wife, but they split. She's in France and no one's heard from him in years."
"But he is still around?" Daymian asked.
"Somewhere," Mordecai said, "A lot of other hunters have been tracking him down, but haven't caught him."
"Did you ever come across him?" Daymian said.
"Not a chance in Hell," Mordecai replied with a laugh, "Adrian Harkness is too high-profile. Only those while more than a few years under their belt go after that sonofabitch."
Daymian felt that same shudder go up his spine again. Something didn't seem right.
"Is... Is he that bad?" he asked.
"If this Dom says that Cecil is as bad as Darius is," Mordecai explained, "Then multiply him by five. Adrian Harkness is not a vampire to fuck with."
Daymian's grip tightened on his mug before relaxing.
"Well... at least it's just Cecil I have to worry about if Adrian is out of the picture." he murmured.
"That's still Hell to deal with, Daymian," Mordecai explained, "One murderous psychopath is one thing, but two is a different story."
"That's why I was so uncertain of taking the job in the first place." Daymian said.
"Then why did you?" Mordecai asked.
He looked up at Mordecai.
"... For Madison."
---***---
"You have lost your fucking mind, Dom!" Ayanami screeched through the earpiece of the phone, causing him to hold it at arm's length.
"Not the first time I've heard that in the past couple of days, Aya." Dom said with a sigh as he tentatively put the phone back to his ear.
"I just... I can't believe this... I can't believe you!" she hissed as he heard her pacing her room, "Cecil's after your head and you're throwing this poor sap to the wolves!"
"You make it sound as if I don't know what I'm doing." Dom replied as he rubbed his eyes.
She snorted on the other end before he heard her hurriedly cover the mouthpiece on her side and say something to another person. When she removed her hand, he caught a snatch of "-ly, Dad! It's nothing to worry about! Jeez!" He gave a slight chuckle.
"Don't start laughing, you jerk." she growled.
"Sorry." he said, causing her to huff, "But I am being honest with you, Aya. I know that what I am doing sounds completely off-base, but I have full confidence that this is a fair deal. For all parties concerned."
"Yeah? How do you figure that out?" Ayanami asked.
"I know where he comes from in concerns to his situation. It's no different from mine." Dom explained, "And if what I have heard from others is to be believed, he is quite capable of his job and with other... things."
"That sounds so wrong." Ayanami replied.
"That wasn't my intention, Aya." Dom sighed.
He stared out his window, watching the sky slowly change to twilight.
"Just one thing, Dom," she asked, "Are you completely sure that this entire thing won't fuck up? You're not going into this blind?"
Summary: Mordecai receives a message on his communicator that brings to light some rather unnerving evidence.
---
A/N: Very short, and probably kind of poo. But I had to get it done because I plan on fleshing this entire world out more.
---***---
The glass shattered in his hand, his grip tighter than he had imagined. He stared at the clear fragments that littered the table's surface, the deep amber liquid that stained his hand and mingled with the deep red that slowly began to appear on his skin. He sighed and swept the broken glass into a dented trash can before sitting into the chair again, almost sagging. He took note of the gentle dripping sound from the blood that fell onto the floor, but made no effort to patch himself up.
It had been three years since Nathaniel had fallen. But things had gotten even worse. More Angelus biotics were being made, but so was something even more vicious than them. Cyborgs. The first time he had ran into one during a routine scouting mission, he was lucky that only his eye had been taken from him. His fingers found the cloth eye patch that now covered the scarred tissue that kept his eye sealed. He sighed as he leaned back into the chair. Normally he was quicker than that. He wouldn't have let a new enemy gain the upper-hand so easily... What was going on?
A series of beeps could be heard from his communicator. Without looking, he scooped it up and pressed a button.
"Mordecai speaking." he said, his voice sounding a lot more rough than it did.
"Ah, sir," a vaguely familiar voice said on the other end, "This is Khan Jen Fei, we've talked before, remember?"
"Somewhat." Mordecai replied as a disjointed image of a kid no older than sixteen came to his memory. In that memory, he saw that same kid hauling a rather large figure across his shoulders...
"What do you want?" he asked, his tone a lot harsher than he had intended.
"I need your help with something." Khan said, his voice cracking, "Nero had encountered a... well, we're not sure what she is, but she's like him. So I guess, a cyborg's the best way to put her..."
"And? Get to the point." Mordecai replied.
"I tried to look her up on the database from Angelus," he continued, "But nothing came up. At least, not in the recent ones."
"So what? You think she might be from around Nathaniel's time?" Mordecai asked, sitting up marginally straighter.
"That's what I'm thinking," Khan said, "But I don't know for sure. Access to those records are not easily gained."
Mordecai snorted.
"And what makes you think that I'll have that information on hand?" he said, his voice starting to carry an even harder edge than earlier.
"Everyone knows about the underground resistance that you have, sir," Khan explained, "And everyone knows that you're doing everything in your power to stop Angelus, gathering information and using it to gain the upper-hand."
"Cyborgs aren't exactly something that were around when I was, kid." Mordecai said, "Angelus strictly did biotics then."
"Maybe, but..." Khan said, "She also had a serial number. A biotic serial number."
"Point being?" Mordecai asked.
"She wasn't in the current database for biotics either." Khan said, causing Mordecai to raise an eyebrow.
"So based on that, you think she's from around my time." he said.
"At least from when Nathaniel was still kicking." Khan replied.
Mordecai rubbed his eye and internally groaned. A cyborg that was kept under wraps this long? But something clicked in his mind.
"A month after Nathaniel was done in," he said, "You came to us, asking for help."
"Uh... yeah. Why are you...?" Khan began.
"You had someone with you. A rather... large someone." Mordecai continued, "A cyborg."
"... My cousin." Khan said.
"Our medic on the premises was able to detect that he was given a biotic injection, much like others in the past." Mordecai said, "Yet he was also given cybernetic body."
"That's kind of obvious, sir, but why are you bringing this up?" Khan asked.
"Consider it a bit of an epiphany for me," he replied as he stood, "I'm making no promises on information regarding your current situation, but I'm going to do a bit of digging."
"Keep me posted?" Khan asked.
"... We'll see."
With that, he closed the communicator and reopened it. He flicked his finger upward, causing a holographic screen to pop up in front of him. Mordecai punched in a set of numbers and waited.
"Hawke here." a voice said through the screen.
"Hawke, Mordecai." he said, "How fast can you make it to the main sector of the camp?"
"Depends on the reason." Hawke replied.
"I think your father's old project has been revived."
Summary: Days after the Battle of Denerim, Gwen sits alone in her room. While there, the weight of all that has happened comes down on her and she is left feeling less like the hero everyone believes her to be.
---
A/N: This is old. Like, very old. So more than likely this is also pretty bad. But enjoy nonetheless.
---***---
Gwen sat on the edge of her bed in her room within the castle halls. Her eyes stared blankly into the flickering blaze in the grate across from her. Despite its heat permeating the room, she felt no warmth. To all of Ferelden, the Blight was over. The Archdemon was vanquished and the Darkspawn no more. She was a hero.
I'm no hero., she thought, dropping her head into her hands, sorrow washing over her.
There came a knock at her door, causing her to look up.
"Come in." she said as it opened.
"It's just me," the familiar voice of her fellow Grey Warden replied as he entered in her room, "I'm not disturbing you, am I?"
"Not at all, Alistair," she said with a small smile, "Why on earth would you think that?"
"After all that's happened," he said, leaning against the bedpost, "I'd think you'd want to be left alone."
She shook her head. Of all the things she wanted most at the present, being left alone was on the bottom of the list. He noticed her silence, but refrained from speaking. He knew what was ailing her and he too felt that same pain as she.
"Has there been any news?" she asked, "Regarding an appearance of some sort?"
"There has been," he replied, "But Anora had thought it best that we all had time to recuperate. After all, it hasn't been long since the Blight has ended."
"Just a couple of days." she said.
"Yeah." he stated, nodding slightly.
Gwen looked up at the ceiling for a moment, as if hoping for something to fall from the sky.
"What about... you know." Gwen began, being vague.
"About...?" Alistair replied, looking at her.
"... Her body. Did... they get it? From the top of... Fort Drakon?" she asked, her voice growing soft.
And there it was. The proverbial bronto in the room. Just those few words spoken made the entire conversation halt. Her eyes shadowed over as the chill grew deeper.
"Well?" she asked, her voice nearly inaudible.
"... Yeah. We... retrieved her- I mean... We got Pallara." he replied, watching as Gwen's body shook.
"That... That's good..." Gwen stated, wiping her eyes with the cuff of her sleeve.
He walked around to where she was and sat beside her, putting an arm around her. She leaned into him, her tears falling down her face. No words were spoken as the two sat there, remembering the moments leading to the battle at Fort Drakon. How Pallara had said that she was going to go up the tower herself with her own group, leaving the two of them behind. The first- and last- fight between her, Gwen, and Alistair. In the end, she had left them in Denerim to fend off against the Darkspawn hordes with the remainder of the group. And when the battle ended... when they saw that beam of light shoot into the sky...
They knew. They knew what had happened to their trusted friend.
"She wouldn't want us like this," he said after a while, causing her to look at him, "She wouldn't want us to mourn her death. Pallara... fought the Archdemon for a reason, not just for the sake of all of Ferelden, but..."
"But...?" Gwen replied.
"But also... for us." Alistair continued, "She never said that to me, but... her brother... He told me why she told us to stay. Pallara wanted both of us to live- for you to have a better life after being in the Circle so long and then becoming a Grey Warden and for me to be there for you and to live my own life."
"She sacrificed herself... for us." she repeated.
"Yeah, she did." he replied.
The conversation halted once more, filling the room with the sounds of a crackling fire.
"Are you going to be alright?" he asked, looking down at her.
"Yeah. I'll be fine," she said, drying her eyes, "But I think... we need to do something. To honor her before we make our appearance."
---***---
Weisshaupt- despite it being sometime mid-spring- was rather cold. She had expected it to be a little warmer, to stave off the frozen knot in her stomach since her request to Anora to hold a private funeral for Pallara at the old fortress of the Grey Wardens. But that thought was meaningless and selfish. Gwen was not there for herself. She was there to pay her respects and say her final farewells to her fellow Grey Warden and closest friend. The entire party- save for one Witch of the Wilds and Antivan Crow- had already spoken what was on their minds and hearts.
Now it was her turn.
With every step she made toward the grave, she felt like she was growing older, as if the days that she had traveled from the moment she left the Circle to the moment of fighting the Darkspawn at Denerim were more like years. Was this what fighting a war felt like? She shook the thoughts away from her mind as she stood in front of the grave.
At first, she said nothing. Gwen could only look at the tomb as if her tongue had shriveled up and refused to move. To the others who watched her as she stared, it was as if they were looking at someone else. No longer was it the little mage girl whose snarky personality and quick wit that made them laugh. Instead who they saw was someone else: a woman who had seen much and fought long.
They were laying their eyes upon the Warden-Commander.
Summary: Doing a lot of things with one free hand is hard. Braiding hair is one of them.
Based off of this prompt from OTPPrompts.
---***---
Kyna looked down at the ties she used to put her hair into its usual braid. She bit her lip as her fingers drummed against the desk in front of her. How on earth was she going to do this? She could barely do most of the things that she enjoyed with only one hand. Writing was still something she struggled with and had to rely upon someone to write for her while she dictated it. She had never tried to braid her hair since the removal of the Anchor, always keeping it long and often messy- something she never did.
But there was no time like the present to see how she would fare against this task.
Sticking the ties between her teeth, Kyna grabbed as much of her hair with one hand and brought it over her shoulder. She looked down at the mass of black that cascaded down her shoulder and into her lap, nearly forgetting how much hair she actually had. Closing her eyes and taking a deep breath, she began to work.
---***---
"Has anyone seen Miss Kyna?" Mhari asked, leaning over the railing of the second floor, looking down at those that sat at the table below.
"You mean the Inquisitor?" Bard said, "No, I don't think anyone's seen her all morning. Why?"
"Normally I'd hear her walking around or maybe talking to Reynauld or Dismas," she explained, leaning further over the railing to the point where it looked like she was going to fall, "But it's nearly noon and I haven't seen-"
At that point, she slipped and fell over the edge of the railing. Before her body hit the floor, a pair of arms caught her. She blinked and looked up, seeing the face of the man she considered her father looking down at her.
"Oh, thanks Deimos!" she said cheerfully.
"You need to be more careful," he sighed, putting her down, "You're going to wind up being the cause of a heart attack one of these days. More than likely mine."
"You still got several more years on you before you die, Deimos!" Mhari said with a smile, "I won't be the cause of it!"
"Point, missing it." he said, shaking his head.
Before another word could be said, there was a loud slamming noise from down the hall. Those in the room looked in the general direction of the sound, puzzled.
"What was that?" Bard asked.
"Something could've fallen over." Deimos replied, "Considering how much crap that Dismas has in this place? I wouldn't be surprised that one of his valuables got destroyed."
"Oh, I hope not!" Mhari replied, "He gets kinda angry when that happens."
"Serve him right," Deimos said with a mild growl, "The man has so much hoarded away and could deserve to have some things taken or destroyed."
Mhari looked up at him before looking down the hall. She ran in the direction of where the sound originated.
"Mhari? Where are you going?" Bard asked.
"To see what made that sound! I'll be back!" she replied.
---***---
Kyna groaned as she kept her head at the table. Her hair, still slung over her shoulder, was a mess of tangles after her attempt to braid it.
"Why do I even try..." she muttered.
At that moment, the door to her room opened and a small face peered in. Kyna recognized who it was.
"Miss Kyna?" the girl said.
"Mhari?" Kyna replied, "What're you...?"
"We heard a noise- that is, me, Bard, and Deimos- and we thought something had fallen over." she said, "I came to see what happened."
Kyna sat up, rubbing her forehead. She didn't realize she had been so loud when her head made contact with the table in frustration.
"You're not hurt are you?" Mhari asked, cautiously walking in.
"No. No, of course not, da'len," she replied, "I'm fine."
Mhari tilted her head as she studied Kyna.
"What is it?" Kyna asked.
"What're you doing?" Mhari said.
Kyna looked at the ties that were on the ground and the brush and comb that were still on the table. A faint red appeared on her face.
"I was... trying to braid my hair." Kyna murmured, "It is... proving more difficult than I thought..."
"Hm..." Mhari said, putting her finger to her mouth as she thought. It was only a couple of minutes later that she clapped her hands enthusiastically, jumping a little in place. "I know!"
"You... know? Mhari?" Kyna asked in confusion.
Mhari held out her hands in supplication. Kyna looked up at her.
"Let me do it for you! I can braid your hair, Miss Kyna!" she said cheerfully.
"You... what...? I don't..." Kyna stammered, more than a little flustered.
"I'll be really careful and gentle, I promise!" Mhari replied, "Please let me do it!"
"I... well... alright, I suppose." Kyna said with an embarrassed smile on her face, relinquishing her supplies to the girl in front of her.
"Thanks, Miss Kyna!" Mhari said with a smile as she walked around behind the woman and moved the mass of hair to where she was.
Kyna stood perfectly still as Mhari worked on brushing out her hair. Every once in a while, she heard her chirp a comment happily- "Your hair is so pretty!" or "It's so silky and smooth!". Kyna made no remarks of thanks to her compliments, feeling quite stunned over the strange turn of events.
"Okay... if I remember correctly..." Mhari said, "Three hand widths is usually a good length for a braid..."
"Mhari..." Kyna said finally.
"Yes, Miss Kyna?" Mhari asked, putting a tie at the top of the section of hair she was to braid.
"Why... are you doing this?" Kyna asked.
"Hm? Why?" Mhari said.
"Yes. Why?" Kyna replied.
"Well," Mhari said, as she began to work slowly and carefully on the braid, "You're part of the family now, Miss Kyna. As a family, we try to help each other out in any way we can. If someone's in trouble, we fix the problem. And fixing the problem makes things better."
Kyna felt her breath catch in her chest. Mhari's words... they were of the same make as Cole's. He too would do what he could to try and help those he saw that needed it. The things that he would do were sometimes... less than favorable, but what he did was, in his eyes, helping.
In the short amount of time she'd been living at the hideout with the rest of the Thieves, she noticed small similarities between her and Cole. Always willing to lend a hand. Had an air of innocence that was quite like a child's...
It made her feel warm inside. Happy one would say.
A/N: This was meant to be the start of the 52 Short Stories in 52 Weeks challenge, but due to my computer restarting during me working on the very first one... There was no way I was going to get it done.
However, I will use this as a project I need to work on...
---
Summary: A young woman receives a summons to her family’s estate from her estranged uncle, begging for assistance in fixing his mistakes. Confused and mildly annoyed, she wonders if she should answer the invitation...
---***---
"Ah... blasted..." she muttered as she stood on her toes while atop a stool, "Of all the places to put a biography..."
The small pile of books in her left arm grew heavy as she strained to reach the one book she was looking for. Her tongue poked out from between her lips as she made to stand higher on her toes, her fingers barely skimming the leather spine of the book. The girl was so focused that she didn't feel the tug on her jacket. Nor did she hear someone call out "Miss Sparda?" from behind.
"Miss Sparda!" the voice said, louder, making her jump and fall off the stool with a loud series of thumps coming from her body and the books she carried.
The girl looked up from the floor to see a young boy standing in front of her. She made a face as she sat up.
"Oh, I'm sorry." she said, getting to her feet and dusting herself off, "I didn't realize..."
She fiddled with her glasses, sliding them up her nose as she bent down to pick up the books she dropped.
"Was there something you wanted?" she asked as she put the books back in her arm.
"You told me that if you had gotten any more letters to give them to you." the boy replied, tilting his head slightly.
Her eyebrows drew together in mild confusion. She did say that, didn't she?
"You're Dawson, aren't you?" she asked, placing the books on a shelf as he nodded, "I thought so. I remember you were there whenever your brother had delivered the last one to our home."
"You said you wanted to keep it secret," he replied, "Because Lord and Lady Sparda would get mad if they found out about you getting them."
Considering what she had read from the last one she had received? She had no doubt in her mind that her parents would have been more than a little upset that she was keeping up in a sense with her uncle.
"So I take it you have a letter for me?" she said.
"Yes, ma'am, I do." he said, pulling out a letter from his shorts pocket, slightly crumpled, but otherwise, undamaged.
"Thank you." she said with a smile before placing a small gold coin in his hand, "Treat yourself, but tell no one of this."
"Yes, ma'am!" he replied as he ran off.
She laughed a little as she watched him go before turning her attention to the letter in her hand. Her name and address was written across the front with the return address smeared to an almost illegible degree. She flipped it over to reveal the wax seal, emblazoned with the mark that came from her uncle's signet ring: an arch with five dashes running along it. Her face grew somber as she sat on the table, opening the letter. She pulled it out and unfolded it. Like the last letter, it bore no salutation, instead diving right into the subject of the matter.
"Ruin has come to our family. You remember our venerable house? Opulent and imperial, gazing proudly from its stoic perch above the moor?"
She closed her eyes to envision the old manor that her mother's family had lived in. Her late grandfather had left it to her grandmother and as years came and went, her health began to decline. She was ten years old when her mother had received the letter from her uncle about the passing. The entire family made their way toward the Hamlet, looking like something that had come from an artist's painting. The village, while not the busiest she had seen, was lively.
But when they had came up to the manor itself... she was in awe with what she had seen. The land was vibrant and beautiful with its well-kept landscape. The manor itself looked regal and at the same time, imposing. She couldn't believe that this was where her mother had lived when she was a girl.
"I lived all my years in that ancient, rumor-shadowed manor, fattened by decadence and luxury, and yet I began to tire of... conventional extravagance."
If it weren't for the last letter she had read, the last part of his sentence would have come as a shock to her. When she first met her uncle all those years ago, he didn't seem to be the kind of person to live so lavishly, despite her mother and her aunt constantly calling him out on it. He appeared as if he didn't care about the worldly things in life, instead preferring the treasures of knowledge and wisdom.
But now, she knew better. She knew that the man she thought highly of when she was a child was not what she had believed to be.
"Singular unsettling tales suggested the mansion itself was a gateway to some fabulous and unnamable power. With relic and ritual, I bent every effort towards the excavation and recovery of those long buried secrets, exhausting what remained of our family fortune on... swarthy workmen and... sturdy shovels."
She pulled out the chair underneath the table, not taking her eyes off the letter as she sat down. This was new to her. An great, unspeakable power held beneath the old manor? And he had thought to unearth it due to a rumor?
"Uncle Ambrosius... What was going through your mind...?" she murmured as her fingers gripped the parchment tighter, reading on.
"At last, in the salt soaked crags beneath the lowest foundations, we unearthed that damnable portal of antediluvian evil. Our every step unsettled the ancient earth, but we were in a realm of death and madness. In the end, I alone fled, laughing and wailing through those blackened arcades of antiquity. Until consciousness failed me."
The letter fell from her grasp and onto the table's surface. She covered her face in her hands, groaning slightly. When he said that 'ruin had come to the family', he wasn't joking. She looked up at the ceiling of the library with an expression of outright disbelief and annoyance.
"Mother was right... you are a blasted moron..." she sighed, shaking her head before picking the letter back up to read the closing.
"You remember our venerable house, opulent and imperial; it is a festering abomination. I beg you, return home, claim your birthright and deliver our family from the ravenous clutching shadows of the Darkest Dungeon."
"What." she said in a flat voice, "You have got to be..."
She turned the letter over, half-hoping that there was more to it than that. It surprised her none to see that what she had read was the end. She placed her head upon the table, gripping her hair with an aggravated groan.
So, her uncle had wasted the entire family fortune to find out if a rumor about some unspeakable evil power under the manor was real or not. 'I began to tire of... conventional extravagance'... You think?, she mused bitterly as her fingers drummed against the back of her head. This was starting to remind her oddly of that one play that she read a while ago. The one of the doctor who made a deal with a demon for great power.
The only difference was that the doctor didn't have that power lying underneath a rug in the sitting room unlike her uncle did.
She sat up from the table and reread the last couple of lines to the letter. 'I beg you, return home, claim your birthright...' Her eyebrows knitted together in confusion. How was the manor her birthright? Her mother might've been the oldest of the three siblings, but unless things had changed, her mother, nor would any of her children, have any claim to the estate and the land surrounding it.
Unless... No, it couldn't be. There's no way that her uncle would've left everything to her in the events that he had died. He had to have had some children of his own, his own heir to the land. But I don't remember ever meeting anyone else at the manor when I was younger..., she thought.
"Light no..." she groaned, covering her face in her hands, "No, no, no..."
There was no other way of looking at it. She had been left an enormous estate and sum of land and she had to go out and clean up the mess that her uncle had left behind.
"Thanks a lot, Uncle Ambrosius..." she said, "Love you lots for this."
She got to her feet and put the letter away in her jacket. If she had to go and take care of business at the estate, she had a lot to do in the little amount of time she had left at her home.
But the first thing on her mind, aside from talking to her mother and father about what had transpired, was to talk to her sister.
---***---
"You know Mother and Father would kill you if you so much as took one step outside the town to fix what our uncle had done, Sen." Lordon said, leaning back in her seat at her desk as she looked up at her sister.
"Don't remind me." Sen replied, tucking the letter away in her jacket again after she read it, "But it doesn't make sense."
"Seems pretty clear to me. He messed up, he wants you to fix it." Lordon said with a shrug, "I don't see where you're confused."
"I'm confused as to why he wants me to do it!" Sen exclaimed, massaging her temples, "When Mother was present at the reading of Grandmother's will, she had said to Father and Aunt Christine that Uncle Ambrosius would run the Estate into the ground with his ways! So, by all accounts, I shouldn't have anything to do with it!"
"True, you shouldn't," Lordon said, "But unless he has a kid of his own, the land and everything on it goes to the next in line. And seeing as out of the you, me, and our cousins, you are the eldest..."
Sen groaned as she leaned against the wall, her head lightly hitting the wood surface. Most women would be married and have families at her age, going to fancy parties and rubbing elbows with the finest.
They weren't going out to help estranged family members climb out of the hole they dug themselves into.
"And here I thought the worst that could happen to me is running into my old flame and his current lady." she said, shuddering.
"Pfff, you know that he wouldn't dare do that." Lordon snorted.
"He's tried." Sen sighed, "Needless to say, I think after the last brush-off I gave him, he might've gotten the hint."
"Might have?" Lordon said with a raised eyebrow.
"Might have. Haven't seen him since then anyway." Sen replied.
She walked over and looked out the window, gazing out at the town. The townfolk hurried to and fro to get to their location, only stopping to chat for a mere moment or two if they caught the eye of someone they knew. The muffled sound of a church bell could be heard in the distance, signaling the hour. At one instance, a dog's bark was heard as a cat ran across the cobbled streets.
This was her home. This was all she knew. And yet... she felt as if something was missing. What was it?
"So, what're you going to do?" Lordon asked.
Sen continued to look out the window for a while longer, trying to gather her thoughts. As she watched two children run about and play, she sighed. From the way it sounded in his letter, her uncle truly regretted what he had done. He wanted to fix what the mistakes he had made.
But now he was unable to. Whether it was by his death or by another unknown force, she didn't know. And now it was all on her to bring back respect to the family name. To some, they would see this as an obligation, as something that had to be done regardless of one's opinion of the matter.
To her, this was something else entirely.
"Is it fate or chance? I can't decide..." Sen murmured.
"Sen?" Lordon asked, "Everything alright?"
"Hm?" Sen replied, turning to face her sister again, "Yeah, yeah. I'm alright. Just... thinking."
"And? What's going on in that brain of yours?" Lordon said.
"Wait until Mother and Father return home." Sen said, "At dinner, I'll... make the announcement."
---***---
"You're going to what?!" their mother exclaimed, shooting up from her seat at the dinner table.
"I'm leaving home," Sen said, trying to keep her voice level and calm, "And... I'm going to the family Estate. You know the one? The one on the..."
"Yes, I'm aware of where you're talking about!" Lady Sparda said, "You can't believe that we're going to allow you to go out there and... and clean up the mess that my idiot brother left behind!"
Lordon looked at Sen with pursed lips. She shrugged as if to say 'you knew this was going to happen'. Sen refused to break eye contact with her parents. Her mother's face was bright red with purest anger, her brows drawn together. Her father's eyes were closed and he shook his head, clearly disapproving and denying what he was hearing. She put her silverware down and clasped her hands together, trying to maintain her composure.
"I know... that what I'm saying is... completely insane of me," Sen continued, "But... you had said it yourself, Mother. Uncle Ambrosius would be the downfall of the Estate with all that he has done. And now... his mistakes have caught up with him. Unless he has an heir of his own, everything would be passed down to the next in line of the family, meaning me."
"Just because it is given to you doesn't mean that you have to claim it," her father spoke up, "If no one comes to claim the rights to the land and everything on it within a certain timeframe, then it all goes to the town official to be parceled off to those who can afford it."
"But what if I want to claim it? Keep it within the family?" Sen asked, "Those lands have been in our family for years and I doubt anyone would want to see it possessed by someone else."
"There is no possible way you could keep up with the expenses." her father continued, "Maintaining and running a plot of land, a large manor, and the town within it? It is too much for one person alone."
"Maybe," she said, "But there's no harm in trying."
She bit her lip as she carefully prepared her next response.
"You both have said that I needed to learn to... to grow up." she explained, "Here I am, just now entering my late twenties and have nothing to show for it. I have a little bit of a higher education, not much in the way of income for myself, and no one to claim as a husband.
"But... perhaps me going and managing the Estate would be that push I need to get to where I need to be," Sen continued, "A new beginning as it were."
The room fell into a strange, buzzing silence. Then without warning, her mother got up from the table and left the room. Sen looked down at her plate, her hair falling in her face. She could feel the disapproving stare coming from her father's gaze. She wanted to cry.
"Why do you feel that way, Sen?" her father asked, causing her to look up.
"W-What?" Sen asked.
"Why do you feel as if going to the Estate will get you where you need to be in life?" he asked.
Sen felt her body tingle in anxiety. She didn't exactly know why she felt that way. Or more of, she knew why, but didn't know how to best put it into words.
"Well?" he pressed gently.
"I-I guess..." she said, taking deep breaths to steady herself, "I guess... in a weird way, by going there and- and helping out... it'll feel like I'm... accomplishing something. Like... I have a purpose."
"You feel as if you don't have a purpose?" he asked.
"... I feel as if I'm stagnating," Sen explained, feeling not only her father's gaze on her, but now her sister's as well, "I feel like... no matter what I do here, I'm not going forward, nor I am going backward. I'm just..."
"You're just there." Lordon said as Sen nodded.
"And by going to the Estate and fixing things, you'll get something out of it? What?" her father asked.
"... Fulfillment." she said, "I want to feel like I've accomplished something in my life."
She fidgeted in her seat as the silence came back into the room. It wasn't but a couple of moments later that he placed his silverware onto the table.
"Your mother and I have to talk about this." he said, "You're old enough to make your own decisions, but... there are some things we need to discuss."
"Yes, sir. I understand." she replied with a nod.
"... You may want to talk to her when you get a chance." her father said before leaving the room.
Sen put her head in her hands as she stared down at her half-eaten meal. Lordon gave a low whistle as the tense atmosphere slowly began to dissipate.
"Well, that was... something." she said.
"... Tell me about it." Sen groaned.
"What're they going to talk about?" Lordon questioned.
"Probably say that I'm crazy for wanting to go to the Estate to find my purpose in life." Sen replied, "But honestly... I don't think my place is here anymore. I don't think I'm going to get anything out of staying here and doing the same things over and over again."
"I believe you," Lordon said, "You don't have to try to convince me of that. This town is nice and all, but you're not going to get anywhere with what there is to do here."
"So... you support my decision?" Sen asked, looking at her.
"There's a reason why we get along as well as we do, Sen," Lordon replied, "And that's because we understand each other better than most other siblings do. Do I think you're a bit on the insane side for going through with this? Who doesn't? But I'm not going to beat you over the head and tell you that you're stupid to do it.
"If anything, I want to see you happy," Lordon continued, "Everyone has seen that you haven't been you the past couple of years and no one wants that."
She grinned a little, causing Sen to smile back shakily.
"If going to the Estate will do that, then I'm behind you all the way." she replied.
"Thanks." Sen said, wiping her eyes with the pad of her thumb.
"That's what sisters are for and you know that." Lordon said, getting up, "Now come on. Not only do you have to get packed for your trip to the Estate, you also have to calm the waters with Mother too.”
What was wrong with him? It was obvious that she didn’t feel the same way as he did toward her. By the Void, she was still heartbroken after her previous relationship with that other elf. What did she say his name was?
‘What does it matter?’, he thought as he took a gulp of whiskey from his glass, ‘I ain’t got a chance wit’ her.’ He sighed a bit as he turned the glass in his hands, the noise of the tavern nothing more than a deafening drone filling his ears.
But before he could do nothing more than bring the glass again to his lips, he felt someone tug sharply on his sleeve. He inwardly groaned as he went to face the one who disturbed him. In front of him stood a dwarven woman with short dark hair and dark eyes.
“You’re Dismas, aren’t you?” she asked, her voice trembling slightly.
“What o’ it?” he asked, raising an eyebrow.
“The Inquisitor… Kyna…” she said, biting her lip, “She’s been… oh sod it… You need to see her!”
Shit, where’d it go?, he thought with a slight growl as he searched the packs around the campfire for the brandy. He had hoped that with it, he wouldn’t have to worry about the stress of the expedition taking its toll on him. He wasn’t too terribly suited for the Warrens, the squeals of the swine creatures gave him the worst kind of shivers.
But just a drop of brandy would do him in a pinch.
The expedition was supposed to be a simple one. Go out and get rid of any vile swine that plagued the Warrens. Which they usually did.
Bard didn’t expect to be the one to carry the entire group when things got rough.
Tensions were getting high as more and more of the wretched pig men and brigands swarmed them with every room they explored. How many more are there, he’d wonder with an inner growl of frustration. It was only a matter of time before everyone began to snap like brittle twigs.
And snap they did. First it was the Man-at-Arms that accompanied them. The stress got to be far too much for him whenever the vomit from one of the swine constantly coated him and made him sick to his stomach. His words went from ones of steadfast bravery to purest terror. Shortly after that, in the next hall, the foolish Bounty Hunter got too close to a spike trap. The pain that coursed through his body caused him to lose his cool and he quickly grew irrational. Lastly, it was the Occultist. Their main source of healing and potential damage control from the rear fell victim to the crazed yells and accusations of the mad men that somehow fled from asylums unknown and into the pigs’ den of filth. His words were too much and he had lost hope.
Bard could feel the pressure pile on him. If it wasn’t the fearful mutterings of the Man-at-Arms, the unintelligible groans of the Bounty Hunter, or the moans of dread and despair from the Occultist, it was the overwhelming darkness and feeling of failure that loomed over him like a cloud.
But it was the next battle they had undergone that finally got him to break.
The final room they had entered of course had the usual batch of swine. One wielded a cleaver while two had hooks for hands. The final carried a drum with a pair of femurs for drumsticks. Bard could tell that this fight was not going to be easy, considering the state everyone was in.
The battle began.
Despite the mental state of the Man-at-Arms, he managed to get a decent blow on the cleaver wielding pig, but not before the hook-handed one slashed him, through his armor and into his gut. ‘This expedition is doomed!’ came from the Bounty Hunter’s mouth as the Man-at-Arms fell to his knees, bleeding.
It was those words that got to Bard. His heart raced, he could feel his breathing pick up speed. No… No…! I… can’t… I won’t let it end like this!, he thought as fire burned inside him. As determination coursed through his veins, he gripped his dirk and sickle tighter and got into a ready stance.
He was focused. Ready to kill.
“My blade will find their weakness!” he hissed, going into battle like a man on a suicide mission.
With his resolve and his ruthlessness, the batch of swine went down far faster than anticipated. His discordant song caused the enemies attacks to miss and when he got up close and personal, he gave a final bow for his performance, a spear impaling his target while it appeared the same fate befell upon him. Before the opponent could retaliate, he would slip away in the shadows while he dealt with his wounds, only to repeat the same song and dance like a masterful puppet would play.
When the battle had ended, the rest of the group looked at the jester, eyes wide with what appeared to be a mixture of awe and fear. Before a word could be said, Bard replaced his mask on his face and sheathed his weapons.
Well, it’s untitled until I can think of a good title. I’m actually quite liking this blurb.
Anyway, based off this prompt.
---
Kate’s attempt at trying to steal a car results in a car chase across the city and forming a partnership she never expected.
---***---
Your name is Katherine Trevelyan and currently you're trying to crack the lock to the shiny black Cadillac that just so happened to be in the vicinity you called home. Sure your home is nothing more than a cardboard box, soggy and falling apart from the recent rainy nights, but it does its job, considering the fact that you have no formal place to call home.
Someone in your past made sure of that.
You stick your tongue out slightly as you shimmy the metal rod around the lock of the car. Patience and concentration were two of your biggest strengths and it always made it easier to deal with matters like this. You closed your eyes and breathed through your nose, glad that your hood was drawn up to hide your face for the most part.
All you had to do was wait for the lock to give and the telltale click of the tumblers accepting the intrusion of your lockpicking tools.
It didn't take long. The car door swung open and you grinned. You carefully made your way to the driver's seat and sat there, leaning into the leather seat.
"Maker... this is Heaven." you whisper.
"Well, Caddys are what you would call a luxury car." another voice says from behind you.
---***---
Your name is Fox Lavellan and you've been watching the girl for the past twenty minutes try and break into the Caddy you've been living in for the past couple of hours. You laughed slightly to yourself as you watched her. You had half a mind to unlock the door yourself and let her in.
But you decided against it. Instead you continued to watch over her from the window. How did she not see you?
You take a good look at her face from the tinted windows. Her hood was drawn- likely to keep any authorities from seeing what she looked like- but from your position, you could see every detail of her face. Round and worn away of innocence, unlike all the newbies that came to live on the streets. No fear and no sorrow was seen.
This was a girl that had been hardened on the streets. How long had she been around?
The inside lock pops up. The girl managed to pick the Caddy's lock. Impressive. The door opens and she slides in, making herself comfortable in the driver's seat. You grin a little as you hear her sigh.
"Maker... this is Heaven." she says, her voice barely audible.
"Well, Caddys are what you would call a luxury car." you say, leaning back across the backseats.
---***---
You sit bolt upright and twist your body to see who was in the car with you.. A young man, no older than you, was lounging in the backseat, black hair slightly shaggy and unkempt. He was dressed in a worn dark gray duster, a white shirt slowly growing dingier over time, and dark jeans ripped and frayed at the knees and cuffs. How did you not see him?!
"How... Where...?" you choke out.
"I'll admit," he says, "I didn't expect anyone to try and steal this car again. I mean, it does belong to someone."
"Who? You?" you ask.
"Me? Oh no." he replies, "No way would I be so suicidal to steal this car."
"Then..."
At that moment, you hear a yell from down the street. The guy peers through the rearview window and grimaces.
"Shit. Of course they'd choose now of all times to notice one of their cars has been raided." he hisses.
"Who?" you ask.
"The Raiders gang." he growls, climbing over the seat and going underneath the steering wheel, ripping the console open, "You breaking into their car must've alerted them."
"How the fuck was I supposed to know?! I thought this car belonged to someone else!" you spat.
"It does. Them." he replies, messing with some of the wires to the car.
At that moment, gunfire is heard. You yelp and duck for cover, hoping not to get hit inside the car. The guy chuckles.
"Good plan, stay low. They won't find you that way." he says.
"Shut up!" you growl as more gunfire is heard.
He smirks as he connects two wires together. The engine roars to life. He slides into the front seat and keeps low to the dashboard.
"Stay there, sweet thing," he states, "Better not to get hurt, yeah?"
The next thing you know, the car with the two of you in it shoots off into the distance. But you know neither one of you are in the clear yet.
---***---
You concentrate on getting the car as far as possible away from the Raiders turf. There's a lot of people- rival gangs, authorities, and so on- that can't stand them to your knowledge. If you can head to one of those locations, you know for a fact that they won't follow you.
Or so you hope.
People scatter as you drive recklessly down the streets for fear of being mowed down. It's not your intention to do so. You just want to get out of the area before the Raiders catch up.
And catch up, they do.
A bullet from one of their guns cracks the rear windshield, followed by a second one shattering it. Shards fall into the backseat and you hear the girl beside you yelp. You grit your teeth and put your foot to the floor. The Caddy picks up speed and you pray to whatever deities above that you can get out of this mess without ending up dead.
More gunshots. The people outside scream and go to hide. Good. Don't need any civilians hurt. If there's one thing that you loathed about most gangs, it was the fact that they couldn't care less if someone innocent got involved. So long as they got what they wanted, what did it matter?
"Look out!" the girl exclaims, pointing at the window beside you.
You turn to see that one of the cars that the Raiders had stolen was right beside you. Your eyes widen as their car swings into yours, trying to get you to swerve off the road. You tighten your grip on the wheel and jerk it to keep it on the road. Their car hits the side of the Caddy again and you once more twist the wheel to keep it from going off-road.
Just then, the window from their car is rolled down and an arm reaches out. A fist connects to the glass beside you, making it crack from the impact. The girl shrieks from the impact, but doesn't move from her spot. The fist is pulled back and strikes the window again, causing the cracks to spread out further and pieces of glass to come loose. The window had only one more hit left in it before it shattered. You had to do something.
---***---
You watched as the person in the other car pummeled at the window, not just once, but twice. Deep down, you knew there was going to be another hit and the window would be gone. After that, though... you didn't know what was going to happen. The most likely scenario that came to mind was getting gunned down by whoever was in the other car. You could just see the obituaries now. You and some guy you barely met ten minutes ago with side by side articles, describing how you both got killed because you stupidly decided to try and steal a car from a gang that showed no mercy when it came to others getting in their way.
But if one thing was for certain, you weren't going to go down without a fight. You had to do something. And fast.
You could barely come up with a plan as to how to act when the window shattered. The guy in the Caddy with you swears and tries to pull away from the car, but the driver from the other car gets closer to the two of you. You can hear loud metallic scraping against concrete. Quickly, you peer out the opposite window to find yourself staring at the side of a bridge. When in world did you get this far out of the city?!
You have no time to wonder further about this when you hear a loud gagging noise. You turn to see that the same fist from earlier is now wrapped around the guy's throat. His hands, no longer on the steering wheel, are now around the arm, trying to pull it off. His lips are turning blue.
You've got to think quickly. Looking around, you notice a rather large piece of glass from the window and pick it up. Its somewhat thick and jagged, but wouldn't hold up one bit in a fight.
But it would do in a pinch to cut a bitch.
Without thinking, you stab the arm, burying the glass shard deep into its flesh. A yell can be heard from the car as their grip loosens on the guy's throat. Before you can do so much as to get back to the ground, the guy grabs the steering wheel again, his grip tight enough to whiten his knuckles. He jerks it in the opposite direction and spins it so that the Caddy is facing the other car.
"What're you...?!" you begin.
"Do you trust me?" he asks.
What a weird question to ask someone that barely knew you and you knew next to nothing about. But you had no choice.
"Yeah... Yeah, I do." you say.
"Good." he replies with a nod.
The next thing you know, he's gunning the engine, charging straight for the other car. Your eyes widen. You were going to crash!
"On three, jump out!" he says.
"Are you crazy?!" you hiss.
"One... two..." he counts down, the Caddy closing in on the other car.
It was almost instantaneous. When you hear him shout 'three!', you tumble out of the Caddy at the same time the front end crashes and crunches into the front of the other car. Smoke billows out from the hoods and soon catch fire. You sit up from your spot, dazed and a little sick to your stomach. You wonder if the guy made it out.
---***---
"Three!" you shout, letting go of the wheel and slamming your shoulder into the car door.
You find yourself rolling a small distance away from the carnage, only hearing metal crunch against metal as the Caddy meets its mark. When you push yourself up, the engines have already caught fire. You can't tell if those in the other car made it out alive, nor do you care. At least that was once batch of Raiders down. You wipe your face, hissing as grit and dirt invade the scratches that were caused by your escape.
You get to your feet and dust yourself off, looking around for the girl that was with you. Sure enough she was a little ways away from you, looking like she was close to vomiting up whatever was in her stomach. Giving a small smirk, you walk over to her and hold out your hand. She looks up at you, looking like you're the most mentally unstable person she's ever met.
"You look like shit." you say as she takes your hand, pulling herself up.
"Feel like it too..." she mutters, staggering slightly, "Maker's breath... what in the world were you thinking?!"
"Of saving our asses?" you ask, causing her to make a face, "C'mon, if I hadn't done that, both of us would've been dead and you know it."
"Still... jeez, I don't think I'll get over this. At least for a couple of days." she says.
"Better than holding a grudge, yeah?" you say with a bit of a shit-eating grin.
"If you say so." she replies.
You roll your eyes.
"By the way," you say, "Thanks for saving my ass back there. If you hadn't shoved that glass in the guy's arm... we'd be dead sooner."
"It was an impulse." she shrugs.
"One that kept us both alive." you say before holding your hand out again, "Fox Lavellan."
"That's a weird name to have." she replies.
"Well not everyone can have normal names." you say, putting your hand down, "What's yours?"
---***---
You keep your mouth shut. No one knew you existed on the streets. And those that knew you outside of them either gave up looking for you or didn't care.
Maybe now was the time to start anew.
"Kate." you say.
"Surname?" he asks.
You shake your head, not wanting to divulge it. Maybe he didn't know about the Trevelyan family, maybe he did. But you didn't want to risk it. After all, the Trevelyan family was somewhat influential in the city with your father holding a position at City Hall.
But that was the past. This was the present.
"Alright, Kate." he says, "You been around long?"
"A couple of months at least." you say.
"It shows." he replies, "But I will say this, from what we've just been through, we could help each other out. I've been on the streets longer than you, but you've got a quick wit that most other newbies out here don't have."
You raise an eyebrow. What was he getting at?
"How about the two of us team up, watch each other's backs?" he suggests, "After all, people like us, we need to stick together to survive in this shithole of a city, yeah?"
You weren't going to deny that. Even before you made your life on the streets, you could tell that this city was going to the dogs from what your father had said. People were getting at each other's throats and mistrust ran rampant throughout. You couldn't trust anyone it seemed. All you had was yourself and all you could do was survive.
"So what do you say? Partners?" he asks, holding out his hand again.
You look at his outstretched hand for a moment before taking it.
A quickquick blurb based on the Darkest Dungeon AU I’m dabbling in.
---
Summary: The highwayman knew that this job to clean out the Estate and restore it to its former glory wasn’t gonna be easy. He supposed that’s why he and the walking, talking priest in a metal suit were more experienced in matters like these. But when the new recruits start coming in, Dismas is starting to believe that none of them have a ghost of a chance in concerns to getting things done.
It was one thing being a hardened criminal that would cut throats for the hell of it.
It was another thing entirely when being paired together with a self-righteous asshole of a knight that made you want to shove your knife in the gaps between his helmet every time he opened his goddamned mouth.
But Dismas... he had dealt with worse.
Then the new recruits started piling into the estate.
"Swear t' whatever god's out there," he snorted as he watched a couple of people clamber out of the stagecoach and head to the main manor to see if they could dig into whatever tasks they could do, "Damned kids ain't gonna last one hour out there."
"You seem certain of that, Dismas." the barkeep said as he too watched the group load out of the stagecoach.
"Sure am," the highwayman replied, knocking back from his glass, "I mean... remember the rumor of the last group that went out there? Blighted moron of a plague doctor nearly got his ass handed to him."
"At least they had the common sense to get out of danger before he did die." the barkeep said matter-of-factly.
"Yeah? And look at the state of 'em now! Ever heard a crusader scream at the top o' his lungs when the whip comes down on their back?" Dismas said with a shudder, "Give ya the willies for weeks to come."
"Well, I'd wager that it's because they didn't have someone as experienced as you or Sir Reynauld to assist them." the barkeep explained, "After all, as eager as they were, they had no idea what they were getting themselves into."
"And you're just tryin' t' soften me up and make me feel somethin' other than the urge to cut ya down." Dismas hissed with narrowed eyes, "Ain't gonna work, friend."
"If you say so, Dismas." the barkeep sighed.
Dismas shook his head as he pushed himself away from the bar. It was time to get a better look at the new meat coming into town. He walked out of the tavern, drawing the scarf tighter around the lower part of his face. His eyes locked on to the group that was at the fountain. Just three people seemed to stick around from the latest shipment.
One of them was another one of those priestly women. What did Reynauld call them? Vestals? She stood beside another girl who looked out of place herself. She was dressed more like a noble with that suitjacket she wore and cravat around her neck. The other... He bore the same kind of apparel that the older highwayman wore- right down to the scarf around his neck. He raised his eyebrow at the kid's attire. The hell was he trying to do?
He watched as the finely dressed girl pushed the kid away with a hand, not wanting any part of his obvious flirtations. Dismas chuckled a little at the smirk on her face. Nothing like seeing a woman toy with a man. The giggle that came from the vestal's mouth was one of both disapproval and enjoyment.
The kid, though... He was a bit more persistent. The passes he made on the girl were getting on borderline harassment. The older highwayman narrowed his eyes as he continued to watch. Watch, but not act. He knew that the girl had let the passes continue on, so part of him wondered if she knew what she was doing, or if she was truly that oblivious.
Then the kid shouted out in pain.
"Oh ho." Dismas said with a grin, "Girl's got a mean right hook."
The kid was on all fours, blood pouring from his nose. The girl looked down on him before walking off. The vestal stayed behind, if only to try and tend to his injuries. Dismas shook his head and walked toward the manor.
"I'll bet at least ten pieces of gold that the girl has one hell of a fighting chance." he said.
---***---
He whistled aimlessly to himself as he tended to his flintlock pistol. As battered and old as it was, it hadn't failed the old highwayman once. There was no way in hell he was going to let that maniac of a weaponsmith near his gun. No one knew how to handle it like he did.
"I figured you would be here, Dismas." a familiar voice said, causing him to groan to himself.
"Well, if isn't the self-righteous prick." he said with a hard glare, "Come t' try and shove more of your bullshit down my throat?"
"Still as hedonistic and self-serving as always," Reynauld said with a sigh as he tugged his helmet off, revealing the pale blonde waves that fell from his head, "But, no. That is not why I am here."
"That so?" the highwayman said, his voice dripping with sarcasm, "Then why're ya here botherin' me?"
"Only to inform you of the latest events that have transpired from the recent mission out." the crusader said, causing Dismas to raise an eyebrow, "You are aware that it was I that traveled with those three new recruits?"
"Hah! So you're the one who had to put up with those idiots?" Dismas said with a laugh as he went back to tending to his guns, "Tell me, how many of their whimpering and terrified bodies did ya have t' carry back?
"None, as a matter of fact," Reynauld replied, causing Dismas to look up in shock, "Katherine, Josephine, and Fox are rather capable of defending themselves."
"Ya gotta be shittin' me, white knight," Dismas stated, "You're tellin' me that they came back alive and not losin' their shit?"
"Indeed it is as you say," the crusader said with a nod, "I have not seen a batch of unclean swine be eliminated so cleanly as I have now."
"Well I'll be damned." the highwayman chuckled, "Sounds like we actually got ourselves some fighters!"
"You seem rather pleased by this news." Reynauld said with a raised eyebrows.
"Pleased? Hell, this is fan-fuckin'-tastic news!" Dismas said, running a hand through his hair, "C'mon, white knight. How many of those poor sods have you seen come from the stagecoach, thinkin' that things ain't so bad and when they actually go out an' get their asses handed to them, they're either fuckin' insane or dead as a doornail?
"Knowing that we actually have some people that are that damned capable of handlin' themselves in that situation is almost too good t' be true." he said.
Kinda sorta a set of headcanons for how my Inquisitors (and other various characters!) hug others. It was fun. |>
Inquisitors:
Kate-
When Kate hugs, it like being wrapped in a warm blanket, equivalent to a mother's embrace. It makes you feel safe, secure, and at ease. You relax in her firm, yet comforting grip, her hand gently rubbing circles on your back to soothe you. It's not often you feel relaxed, but when you come out from her hug, you feel lighter and calmer afterward.
Lloyd-
Lloyd rarely gives hugs. But when he does, they're tight, but not suffocating. He wants to let you know he is there for you, but if you do not need him, you need only step away. Although he doesn't wish to be so clingy and desperate, he yearns to know that you want him by your side and that you will cherish him. His embrace is genuine, but scarcely experienced.
Kyna-
Kyna's embrace is rather stiff and awkward. Unsure of how to hold you and of how long it should last, they are quick and rather fleeting. It leaves a feeling of wanting more- something she desires herself, but doesn't pursue. The loneliness is evident when it ends and it makes you want to put it to ease.
Nero-
He gives a side hug, a firm squeeze and a reassuring smile to end it before walking off. It confuses you when it happens. Isn't he supposed to be a rather coarse and unpleasant person? Yet his embrace is drastically different from the person he makes himself out to be. It leaves you wondering who he really is.
Skadi-
Despite her age and size, Skadi will lift you up from the ground and squeeze tightly. You won't need to visit a chiropractor afterward as her grip will have popped every single bone in your spine. Her smile is a mile wide and her laugh will ring in your ears. Her hugs make you feel good and full of energy. Just be careful when she puts you down. Your rear will likely get slapped afterward.
Extras:
Aintza-
When she hugs you, it might be a little painful at first. She doesn't measure her strength or grip all that well, but after letting her know that you might have a bit of bruising, she'll loosen her hold on you. She's got a big heart and an attitude that makes you feel welcome. Like you're part of the family, regardless of who you are or what you are.
Agrippa-
Grip's hugs are a little formal and the tiniest bit awkward, especially if he doesn't know you or feel comfortable around you. He's not one for openly showing his affection toward those he cares about. In private however, his embrace is light, gentle, and tender. When he lets go, a faint smile will be on his face, genuine and full of kindness.
Genevieve-
Gen is an Ice Queen, but when she gives you a hug, you don't feel a chill from her. Instead, you feel a yearning. A yearning for wanting to be loved. She'll have her head on your shoulder and her grip will be firm. She doesn't want to let go easily, but when she does, it's almost as if she's reluctant to do so. When you look down at her and see that her expression is unchanged, but her eyes reflect something else, her yearning becomes yours as well.
Aurora-
Rory's hugs are full of life and light. She has her arms open wide and when she embraces you, she makes you feel loved and special. Sometimes she'll rock you, sometimes she'll stay still, but sometimes she'll spin you around lightly, laughing gaily. It is definitely what you would call a 'feel good' hug and it'll leave you feeling like you can do almost anything afterward.
Really quick blurb based off of this prompt from otpprompts.
---***--
Summary: Words were never Kate’s strong suit. Nor was romance it seemed. But somehow she manages to say what she wants to to the Inquisitor without having to speak them aloud.
---~~~---
She was never good with words. She was better with actions, those of the more explosive kind that is.
But it seemed almost natural what she was doing when her fingers lightly moved across the Inquisitor's back. The words just came to her just as easily as it was for her to pick a lock.
'I love you.'
She smiled faintly as she moved back from where her finger started and retraced the words again.
'I love you.'
Too bad I can't bring myself to say it aloud., she said with a sigh. Once more, she moved her hand back to the starting point and rewrote the same three words on his back.
'I love you.'
The Inquisitor moved slightly, causing her to draw her hand back in surprise. He was awake all along? Shit!, she thought, grimacing to herself as she quickly went to lay down beside him. He sat up and looked at her.
"Kate?" he said, "Are you alright?"
"Mmm? Yeah, jus' fine, Inquisitor. Nothin' to worry about." she said, making herself comfortable, "Why d'ya ask?"
"You're normally dead asleep by now, that's why." he said with a slight laugh.
"Guess I haven't gotten that sleepy yet." she replied with a shrug.
"If you say so." he stated, shaking his head.
"I do." she said, with a slight pout, "Now go t' bed, Inquisitor. You're the one who needs more sleep than I do."
She turned over on her side, facing the wall. Her expression changed, going from a cocky and playful look to a more somber and mellow one. Kate sighed internally as she began to close her eyes. Why was it so hard to say what was on her mind?
If it were any other person lying in the bed beside her, aside from Fox, she'd have likely punched them in the face for putting their arm around her waist. But since it was him, the gesture was welcome. Almost comforting. It made her feel wanted. Loved.
"I love you too, Kate." he whispered to her, burying his face in her shoulder.
Her eyes widened and her face flushed red. She turned her head slightly to look at him over her shoulder, only to find him dead asleep. Kate turned back to face him and drew herself closer to the Inquisitor's sleeping form. Before drifting off to sleep, her finger traced lightly on his chest those same three words that she wrote on his back before.
I don't always write things for my Inquisitors. I sometimes also write things for me and my friends' OCs.
It's been a while.
Based off of this prompt from otpprompts.
Dominic Harkness (c) me
Ayanami Montaire-Bishop (c) hipsterdoria
---***---
"I'm going to be leaving for Italy by Friday."
For a moment, he thought she had hung up on him. Hehalf-expected Ayanami to do so. The two of them hardly spent time together as it was with him running Harkness Industries at the craziest of hours and when he would get off, she would either be dead asleep or doing something with her family.
Sometimes it made him wonder why she was still with him for the lack of time they spent with each other. Even his colleagues still thought he was single. That or homosexual.
"... Italy, huh?" she said after some time, "Sounds like fun."
"Hah, hardly." Dominic said with a dry laugh, "It's for business. Some of our overseas partners want to see how the new line will hold up in their markets."
"Still at least you're gonna be going to a different place," Ayanami replied, "Getting out of the city and seeing new sights. Heh... reminds me of when we went to Paris to see your mom."
"Yeah, that was fun." he stated, shaking his head, "We'll have to do that again some time."
"Yeah, we'll have to." she said, a nervous, almost awkward tone lacing into her voice.
Dominic scratched the back of his neck. He knew that when he had called, she had probably expected something else. Anything other than hearing about him leaving for business reasons to another country and spending even less time with her.
"... When's your flight?" she asked.
"What?" he replied, confused.
"Your flight on Friday, dummy," Ayanami huffed, "When do you leave?"
"Oh." Dominic said, "It's... It's, um, at 3:15."
"Morning or afternoon?" she pressed.
"Afternoon was the earliest I could get on such short notice." he explained, "Why do you...?"
"I'll see you before you go flying off to do your stuff with work." she explained shortly.
"Aya, you don't have to-" he began.
"I can and I will." she replied, causing him to swallow silently at the harsh edge in her voice, "See you then."
"Yeah... see you then." he said, hanging up when the phone went dead.
He leaned back in his office chair, putting his face in his hands. He knew he dropped a bombshell on her with this phone call, but... he had to let her know that their scarce time together would be even scarcer.
"God, why is she still with me?" he groused, "I'm a horrible boyfriend..."
---***---
"Flight 304 for Florence, Italy to board in ten minutes. Flight 304 to Florence, Italy to board in ten minutes."
"Looks like I'd better cut this short." Dominic said to his business partner over Skype, "My flight will be boarding soon."
"So I heard," his partner chuckled, causing Dominic to pull a face, "Relax, kid. Things like this go over quickly and smoothly. Before you know it, you'll be back in the States, enjoying the single life like always."
"Oh, um..." Dominic said, blushing faintly while groaning internally at the same time, "I'm... I'm not single."
"Really?" the other party said, "Last I heard, you were practically a hermit with no social life whatsoever."
"Mmmph." he mumbled, shaking his head, "Running Harkness Industries makes it hard for me to be a social butterfly like a lot of other CEOs out there."
"More like you can't multi-task for shit." his partner laughed, causing Dominic's eyes to narrow, "I swear, you focus more on one thing and one thing only. You don't focus on multiple things at once!"
"Oh shut up." he growled, "I'll see you at the airport."
"Aren't you already there?" his partner joked.
"You know what I mean!" Dominic hissed, slamming his laptop closed and stuffing it in his case.
"Flight 304 to Florence, Italy to board in five minutes. Flight 304 to Florence, Italy to board in five minutes."
Dominic stood up and smoothed out the creases in his shirt before grabbing his laptop case. He cast a glance around the airport terminal, hoping to catch a glimpse of Ayanami before he left. Shaking his head slightly, he turned to head for the boarding station.
Before he could take two steps toward his destination, he felt someone tap his shoulder.
"Do you have any idea how hard it is to find you without your usual suit jacket on?" Ayanami groused, panting slightly, "I swear, seeing you in casual clothes is so weird..."
"Aya..." Dominic said with a relieved smile, "You came."
"Well duh!" she said with a small pout before turning it into a scowl, "I told you I was gonna see you before you went off on your business adventure, you dope."
"It's hardly an adventure if it's for business," he said with a laugh, "But seriously, I'm glad you're here."
"Well, can't exactly say I'm happy to be seeing you go away like this." she sighed, shaking her head, "We don't see each other all that often, you know. And now with you going away for business... we're gonna see each other even less."
At least she acknowledged it., he mused sourly, her words hitting him like a punch to the gut.
"Aya..." he said, "Part of that is my fault. If I wasn't so busy doing my work... we would be spending more time together."
"But if you didn't do your job, who would?" she asked, raising an eyebrow, "I sure as hell doubt that you'd let Cecil anywhere near the building. Especially with what happened before. And, you may've said that your sister's reformed, but I still wouldn't trust her with the position."
It's almost like she knows me too well..., he thought with an inner groan.
"Still..." Dominic stated, running a hand through his hair, "It's not fair to you that all my time is going to the company and none of it is being spent with you. I need to make up for that."
"That'll be kind of hard for you to do now, won't it?" Ayanami replied, pursing her lips, "You're going to freaking Italy for two weeks. Doing stuff for your company. Probably going to be checking out all the girls there in your free time."
"What?" he replied, puzzled at the last part of her statement.
"You heard me." she sniffed.
"Flight 304 to Florence, Italy to board in three minutes. Flight 304 to Florence, Italy to board in three minutes."
"Aya, there's no way in hell I'm going to do that." he said, staring at her incredulously, "I'll hardly have the time to even THINK about girls."
"Oh, so you won't even think about me while you're gone?" she snapped, tears spinging up angrily in her eyes.
Oh... shit., he thought in a mild panic. This was not where he wanted this conversation to go. At all.
"I never said that I wouldn't!" Dominic exclaimed, putting his hands on her shoulders, "Aya, I think about you all the time!"
"Uh-huh, sure you do." Ayanami hissed, pulling away from him, "You spend so much time thinking about me that you never call me to ask me how I've been doing for days, you schedule time to have a movie night only to fall asleep within ten minutes of the first DVD... the last time you even kissed me was two months ago!"
Dominic could feel the eyes of every person in the airport terminal bore into the back of his head. He wanted to curl up and die right there on the spot with the scene they were making. But he knew that every word she was saying was true. And he could feel the hurt she felt with every breath she spoke.
God, I'm terrible..., he thought miserably.
"Aya," he began, putting a hand on the side of her face, feeling her body tense up as tears fell down, "I can't tell you how sorry I feel for doing this to you. For not spending enough time with you. I can't tell you how many times I've felt like I've let you down because of it. Like I don't deserve you at all. I've wondered all too often why you're still with me, even with all that's happened."
"Sometimes I wonder that too," she said, wiping her eyes roughly with the cuff of her sleeve, "It's just... I miss you, you know?"
"I miss you too, Aya," he replied, "I miss you so much. There are times where I wish I could run away from work if it meant spending a couple more hours with you."
"That's never stopped you before." she replied, "You used to do it all the time when you first took the job as CEO."
"That's because I didn't want the responsibility of the job." he said, "I still don't. But... sometimes I have to do what I don't want to do."
He gently tilted her head upward so that their eyes met.
"I promise you, Aya," he said, "While I'm away, I'll think of you always. And when I come back, we'll make up for lost time."
"How're you gonna do that?" she said, partly in sarcasm, partly with hope.
"Well... I hear that Hawaii is nice this time of year." he said, causing her eyes to widen.
"Don't you dare be playing like that, Dominic," she said as he looked at her, "You can't mean...!"
"If I'm not?" he said with a small grin before she tackled him in a hug, "Aya...!"
"Oh my god, you're gonna spoil me." she said, laughing.
"If I can't spoil you a little bit, what can I do?" he teased, shaking his head.
"You really are a dummy." she replied.
"You claim me anyway." he said with a shrug.
Before he could say another word, she kissed him. His hands found her waist as he brought her closer to him.
"Flight 304 to Florence, Italy now boarding. Flight 304 to Florence, Italy now boarding."
"Mmph... Aya, that's my flight." Dominic replied, pulling away, "I need to get going."
"Do you have to go now?" she asked, grabbing at his sleeve.
"Unfortunately so," he said with a wry smile, "But I promise I'll be back before you know it."
"Two weeks is an awful long time to wait though." Ayanami stated.
"I know, sweetheart. I know." he replied, "But just remember that we'll make up for this when I return."
"It’s so warm…" Gen mused, running her fingers across the furred collar of the cloak she had around her shoulders.
She had no idea as to what compelled her to take Liam’s cloak and put it on. It was no different from any other she had seen before in the past. Made of a thick cloth, dyed a rich red with golden fur around the collar.
But why did she take it to begin with…?
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