We report: the night comes kindly with a breeze, while the ground is still warm to the touch. There is a bit of humidity in the air. During the day, it made the heat more difficult to bear, but in the absence of the sun, we feel thankful for the slight chill it brings.
How hard is it to get a constellation from their seal? Like the forgotten ones like fornax
Like, how hard would it be to wake them up?
Well, that largely depends on beliefs here on Earth.
Let's start with Fornax, he's actually very docile, he's not a constellation focused specifically on battle, whoever believes in him feels warmer, safer and calmer, that is, on Earth he's seen as a welcoming constellation, so if someone believes in him even a little, he can wake up and help that person
(but then he's forgotten again for a while, but since he doesn't hold a grudge against humans, he's fine🥺😔)
But another one, like Perseus, is ridiculously difficult to wake up, since on Earth there are many myths that whoever woke him ended up going mad and having a horrible end/painful death(;゜゜)
So not many people risk doing it, thus, Perseus continues in his deep sleep with much hatred in his heart.
Now, one that isn't particularly dangerous, it's just forgotten, is Lacerta. He's in a deep sleep and it's difficult to wake him since he's not such a popular constellation. He's friends with Fornax and Camelopardalis. These three are somewhat forgotten by humanity, but they don't hate humans at all.
In short, the most popular and welcoming constellations are easier to awaken xD
@zozo-01 and I have very strange conversations and sometimes I have to write them out. Enjoy this ridiculous little thing.
Continuing with my recent theme: Major Cataclysm Spoilers Ahead
6.1k words
CW: fantasy violence, some aggressive and threatening language, peril to characters
—
“King” Samuel Collins regarded me thoughtfully as I entered the audience hall, chin resting on his hand, sprawled casually on the throne that used to belong to the Imperium.
“What’s a lone Freelancer doin’ here all by themselves?” he asked. He wrinkled his nose. “Covered in the smell-a daemons?”
“I used to be the coordinator for the Academy’s daemon haven in Dahlia,” I said, keeping my posture straight but giving him a half-bow of respect. “I still work closely with them.”
“A’right. So what’re you doin’ here, Freelancer-coordinator?”
“The daemons who took over the Dahlia academy—who you fought beside when you stormed the Spire—have taken up... residence in Ferris.” I’d almost said refuge, but that seemed like the wrong word to use with this guy. “Avior has no idea I’m here. He’s in Borden organizing the daemons there.” I took a breath. “But, to be fair, I didn’t come here alone.” I gestured behind me.
A rift tore open and a tall daemon ducked through it, standing behind me to my right.
“You remember Vega, I assume,” I said.
Samuel Collins’ silver eyes sized Vega up slowly. “I remember,” he agreed. “You tryin’ to intimidate me or somethin’? It’s not gonna work.”
“No, no,” I replied, shaking my head.
I am simply here to protect the coordinator. Because if something happens to the love of Avior’s life... Vega trailed off, mildly threateningly. He smirked. Well. Newly minted kings can be so easy to... unseat from their thrones.
Samuel Collins snarled, baring his fangs. But didn’t get off his throne.
“Vega,” I chided blithely. “Not now.”
Vega’s orange-gold, fiery eyes peered down at me with a fake pout. Awww... but he makes a delicious meal, he complained, obviously mocking Collins. Such malice...
“Vega,” I pressed.
He heaved a sigh and relaxed. Fine, he relented.
I looked back to Collins. “Sorry about him. He insisted on joining me. I was going to bring a Serenity Daemon but Vega wouldn’t listen.” I gave him a somewhat fake smile. “Anyway. If I may, I’d like to discuss the actual reason I’m here.”
“Well get to it, then.”
“We—that is, the former residents of the Dahlia daemon haven—are intending to take Ferris as our territory,” I said, cutting right to the chase. “We intend to drive out any Mass-Maker who attempts to make it their base of operations, and we intend to make it a safe place for the daemons who are coming over from Aria for the first time to get accustomed to Elegy and be safe.”
“And?” Collins looked beyond indifferent.
“Well, we’re right on the border of your territory. Ferris isn’t that far from Dahlia. We don’t want to step on your toes. We’ll respect your border so long as you respect ours. If necessary or interested, I’m sure Avior would consider negotiating some sort of alliance. Considering some other Mass-Maker with even more progeny under their belt might try to snatch Dahlia from you,” I continued. Collins scoffed at that last statement.
“So why’d you come here alone behind your little demonic leader’s back?” he asked.
“Because I pulled your file before the fight at the Spire,” I replied. Collins lifted his chin off his hand and sat up a little straighter. “Our technician, Anton, did most of the vetting. He’s unempowered but he’s a genuine genius.
“But I recognized your name from the list of vampires who presented themselves at our gates that day.” I swallowed. “So I pulled your file.”
“Find anythin’ you like?” he snarked.
“You used to be a Freelancer,” I said, not rising to the bait. “I recognized your name from the healing classes I took while I was getting my full certification. My professor still lauded you as her best student, almost twenty years later. You and I are... were... of a similar spirit. Hardworking perfectionists. Some might call us—”
“Overachievers,” Collins put in, a thoughtful look crossing his face.
I nodded. “I tried for four years to take that title from you in my professor’s eyes. It’s a blow to my pride to admit I never did it.”
Amusement crossed Collins’ face. “No. I don’t imagine you did. What does any of this matter?”
“Call it naïveté if you want, but I hoped having some sort of understanding of each other might make you more inclined to listen.”
“You’re still here, ain’t ya?” he retorted. “I haven’t had anyone throw you out, yet.”
You could try, Vega growled.
“Vega,” I warned. “Not now.”
Vega was tense, but stood down. Yes, coordinator.
Collins snorted. “You got a Sadism Daemon on a short leash. I commend you for that.”
“Trust me, it’s his respect for Avior, not me.” I took a deep breath. “Are you willing to consider the possibility of an alliance with the daemons?”
“And if I’m not?”
I shrugged. “Respect the border between our two territories. Leave us alone, we’ll leave you alone.” I made a face. “Should that prove to be too difficult for you...” I glanced at Vega. He smiled menacingly. I looked back at Collins, still nonchalant and casual. “We have plenty enough daemons to defend our borders.”
“Well, then I suppose we’ll see what happens, won’t we, darlin’?”
Vega tensed behind me. If you call the coordinator that again—
“Vega.”
He relaxed the muscle in his jaw, but didn’t relax anything else.
“I suppose we will,” I said to Collins. “But I advise you to heed me, now. There’s been enough bloodshed. We don’t want any more. We just want to continue our lives in peace and maybe scratch out a little spot of safety for our people.” I turned to leave.
“You will never be one of them,” Collins said softly.
I grabbed Vega’s wrist before he could do much more than snarl and whirl around. I felt a ward spring into existence between me and the half of the hall where Collins was. I turned slowly to face him again. He was still sitting on his throne. Hadn’t even gotten up to try and intimidate Vega or harm me.
I regarded Collins calmly. “I’ll never be a daemon, no,” I agreed. “But that doesn’t mean I’m not one of them.” I let go of Vega’s wrist. “When you find a the right family for you, you’ll find that you want to protect each other out of care and respect. Not fear or force. I lost my blood family to the Imperium years ago. The daemons became the family I chose for myself. And if you never find someone to mourn you when you are gone... I’m sorry.” I turned back to Vega. “Let’s leave.”
We walked back to the entrance of the hall. Vega didn’t drop the ward separating us from Samuel Collins.
At the door, I stopped, setting a hand on Vega’s forearm to halt him too.
I turned to look back one more time. “The Imperium didn’t like it when Mass-Makers turned empowered humans. Took most of their magic away, instead of giving unempowereds a Core. Alexis Solaire died the same night the Imperium did.”
Collins straightened up properly.
“I imagine there’s no love lost there,” I said.
He scoffed. “Woman more’n had it comin’,” he spat.
“Am I safe in guessing you didn’t even feel the bond die?”
He snorted. “Sugar, I’ve turned hundreds of vampires. I have so many maker-progeny blood bonds I could never tell when one-a ‘em vanished. So, no. I did not feel when the one between me and my maker died.”
I examined my fingernails nonchalantly. “Her death is the reason you got your invocations back.”
“Like hell,” he retorted. “She wasn’t the Invoker. I tied plenty-a progeny to the actual Invoker to know that for damn sure.”
“No. She wasn’t. But Vincent Solaire knew who was. And his price for giving up that information was her death.” I met Collins’ eyes. “My best friend’s pack alpha ripped her head off that night. Got the information from Vincent Solaire, ripped his head off too, and then went after the Invoker. You can guess the rest.” I left off the fact that Brachium willingly gave his life.
“Vincent Solaire had a few screws loose,” Collins commented. “Bastard deserved to have his head torn off.”
You could say that about every vampire on this plane, Vega remarked casually.
“The screws loose or the head tearing off?” I asked.
Vega shrugged. Choose one. I’m not picky.
I bounced an eyebrow and looked back at Collins. “I’m sorry she took that from you, Freelancer. But I thought you’d like to know that she’s gone.”
Before he could say anything, I ducked through the door, taking Vega with me.
“Let’s go home, Vega.”
Vega scooped me up and took off running.
—
Avior was waiting for us in Ferris. At the Keaton pack’s old den. Where the Dahlia haven daemons and the Shaw pack had taken up residence.
He was leaning against the wall next to the front door, arms crossed, staring up at the night sky.
There was a metaphorical stormcloud brewing over his head.
Vega put me down on the den’s porch. I’ll leave you two alone, he said, ducking through the door to go inside.
Once the door shut behind him, I scrunched my eyebrows. “What’s wrong, Avior?” I asked. “Something happen in Borden?”
“No, actually,” Avior said. Much too casual for the roiling energy around him.
“So what’s wrong?”
“I got a call. While I was in Borden. A few minutes ago. From King Collins in Dahlia.” He used the title sarcastically. “I don’t know how he has my number and frankly I don’t really care. He told me that you and Vega sought an audience with him and told him to respect our borders in Ferris and suggested that he and I consider negotiating an alliance.”
“So you’re mad at me?”
“I’m frustrated that you didn’t tell me you were planning it,” he corrected. “But everything else is sound.”
“So why are you... brooding?” It was the wrong word but my brain wasn’t supplying a better one.
“Because he decided to call me King Avior.”
A smile I couldn’t stop lifted up my face.
“Oh, don’t you start, starlight,” Avior said.
“But... but it suits you!” I teased.
“I’m not a king! I’m not like them! I’m not—” He shoved his hand through his hair. “I don’t want to be some tyrannical... monster.”
“You won’t be. You listen to the people who look to you for leadership. And you’ve got me, and Vega, and Cam, and everyone else to keep you humble.”
“What if I stop listening?”
“Then Vega and I will read you the absolute riot act to end all riot acts until we’ve knocked you back down to where you are now.”
He brushed the backs of his fingers down my cheek before cupping my neck. “I hope you’re right,” he said softly.
I gave him a cheeky grin. “I am. And if you start getting an even bigger head than Vindemiator always joked you have, I won’t even stop Vega if he starts getting violent if that’s what it takes to make you see sense.”
“I feel like I should be concerned, but I’m actually quite relieved.”
He pulled me a little closer and I reached for a kiss. He gladly agreed and pressed his lips to mine. “I love you, Avior,” I whispered. “And I am, absolutely, going to tease you about this for the rest of my life.”
He smiled wide. “I... don’t doubt that,” he said, resting his forehead against mine.
“Wanna go inside? It’s a little chilly.”
“Sure.”
We ducked inside.
—
“Oh, God. What’s in that?” Avior complained the second I strolled into the den three days later with a small paper bag from the dollar store. He must have sensed my amusement and mischief.
“Just something to keep you humble,” I replied.
Asher looked up from where he’d been quietly talking with Milo on one of the couches. Neither of them had moved since I left for the store. Daylight still burned strong and we were making good on protecting Ferris from vampires to boot.
“What is it?” Avior pressed.
I reached into the bag and pulled out the cheap, plastic tiara. The kind that was poorly painted silver, with fake gems and thin, downy feathers—pink, in this case, since I hadn’t been able to find a red one.
“Starlight!” Avior protested as I moved to try to put it on his head. He ducked away. I pursued.
I chased him around the common area while Milo and Asher watched in amusement, cackling. I nearly caught Avior twice—and he wasn’t using his enhanced speed—but every time he dodged before I could put the cheap, ridiculous little tiara on his head.
“Hey, over here!” Asher called, hopping off the couch, clapping, and holding his hands to catch the tiara. I threw it at him—guiding my aim with a little Psychokinesis—and laughed as he caught it. He vaulted the back of the couch he’d been on and chased Avior from the other direction.
“Tag-teaming is not fair play!” Avior exclaimed.
Asher and I laughed as we tried to box him in.
He ducked through a rift—and ended up directly in front of Milo.
“Milo!” Asher said, tossing the tiara over. Milo laughed, snatched it from the air, and joined the game.
“What is going on?” Cam demanded, standing on the stairs.
“Pin the crown on the king!” I replied, chasing Avior and holding my hands out for the tiara when I got close enough. Milo threw it at me. I fumbled the catch a little but managed not to drop—or break—the thing.
Cam watched us, gaping a little, as the four of us ran around the room. “Okay...” he muttered.
“Come join, Cam!” I called. “It’s fun!”
“No it’s not!” Avior protested. “I am not putting that thing on!”
“Why not?” Asher joked. “Are you scared of a little plastic?”
Milo snorted. “Nah—he’s just too dignified,” he put in.
I caught Avior around the waist and tried to reach to put the tiara in his hair, but he phased through my arm like a little cheater and ducked between Asher and Milo—who crashed into each other—and tried to get out of the common area.
But Cam blocked his exit. “Ah-ah-ah,” he said. “The leader should wear a crown, right?” he teased.
“Not you too,” Avior started—
In time for me to pounce on him and plant the tiara in his hair between his horns. I started to laugh so hard I snorted at the affronted expression on Avior’s face.
“I cannot believe the love of my life would subject me to such indignity—”
“Really?” I retorted, wiping tears of laughter off my face. “Have you gotten to know me at all this past year?” I moved with him to keep him from pulling the tiara off while Asher scrambled to get his phone out to take pictures. “We take joy in the few places where we can find it, Avior.”
“And one of those places is tormenting me?”
“... It’s a plastic tiara. Not the end of the world. We already averted that.”
“Coordinator, I got like ten pictures,” Asher said.
“Oh, my God—let me seeee!” I exclaimed, climbing off where I was still half-climbed up Avior’s back and rushing over to Asher’s side to look at his screen. I laughed as he scrolled through them. Most were blurry but there was one really good one of me beaming over Avior’s shoulder with one hand firmly holding the tiara to his head. “You have got to send those to me!”
“Yeah, yeah,” Asher said.
The door to the basement stairs opened and my friend emerged. “What does an unempowered gotta do for two uninterrupted hours of quiet around here?!” they demanded, eyes fixed on Asher.
I couldn’t help the scoff that escaped my throat. “With this many daemons and shifters trying to call one pack house home? Cast a mass sleep spell over the whole place and kick the daemons out,” I muttered sarcastically. My friend shot me a look. And as they twisted, I noticed a small bruise-like mark on their neck, poking out from under their shirt collar. Apparently their little budding attraction with Asher had progressed farther than I thought. I bit back a teasing grin.
Avior rolled his eyes. “Sorry,” he said to my friend. “These three just decided it would be fun to—”
He stopped as my friend started snickering at the tiara still between his horns.
“Oh, for God’s sake,” he muttered, reaching up and snatching the tiara out of his hair. He threw it at me. I caught it and set it on the paper bag that had ended up on the coffee table. “Save the games for when the Empathy Daemons are actually here. At least then they can feed on the joy you take in tormenting me.”
“You’re so dramatic, Avior,” I said, leaving Asher and Milo to lean against Avior’s side. He rolled his eyes. “You’re not being tormented. There’s no harm in trying to get you to wear a cheap toy.”
His phone started ringing before he could do much more than open his mouth to make some sarcastic retort. He yanked it from the pocket of his dark jeans and glanced at it. “Collins?” he asked as he put the phone to his ear. “To what do I owe the call?” He pressed a quiet kiss to my forehead and left the room, going out to the front porch. Asher, Milo, Cam, my friend, and I all exchanged looks. Cam looked at me and nodded toward the front door.
I made a face and shrugged. If he’d wanted me to go with him, he would have taken my hand and dragged me out.
We all stood there for a moment—and I realized Cam, Asher, and Milo were all eavesdropping on Avior. My friend and I were the only ones who couldn’t hear him, with our basic human senses. Cam kept making faces and Asher and Milo were exchanging looks.
After a minute, Avior came back in. There was a large crack in the plastic on the back of his phone that sealed itself shut—good as new—as he released his death grip on it.
Avior met my eyes. “He wants to see us. Negotiate an alliance or some sort of truce,” he said. Frustration colored his expression. “And he wants to make a thing out of it.”
“Meaning?” I prompted.
“Meaning he wants it to be a formal... meeting. As in dressing up fancy. All that posturing, meaningless, bullsh—”
“Who has to be there?” Asher interrupted. Avior met his eyes.
“Me, Vega, you,” Avior said. He looked to me. “And you. And anyone else who would like to join.”
“Well... we can’t bring everyone,” I said.
Avior and Asher both shook their heads.
“The numbers advantage would be nice,” Avior said. “But it’s too dangerous to have us all in one place.”
“Best to leave most of the pack here,” Asher put in. Avior nodded.
“Yeah. Most of the daemons too. Some to guard the den, some to watch the border so Collins doesn’t try anything while we’re distracted.”
“I can put a couple wolves on the border too,” Asher offered. Avior nodded. He glanced at my friend, who had snuck closer to us while we’d been talking. “Can’t let the daemons feel like they’re doing all the work around here.” He smiled, and my friend smiled back. Milo’s eyes widened a fraction and his lips parted. He looked surprised. I could guess why. Before all this, my friend told me Asher was a somber guy. Milo seeing his alpha smile probably was jarring.
“Yeah. Put a handful. Make sure the rest know to stay in the den and stay safe,” Avior agreed.
“When’s the meeting?” I asked.
“Day after tomorrow.”
“Then we’ve got some plans to prepare.”
He nodded.
—
“No.”
“C’mon. All teasing aside, Cam’s right. You need some way to denote you’re the leader.”
“Starlight, we’re not joking about this again—”
“It’s not a joke this time!” I exclaimed. “I’m not telling you to wear a bejeweled cape with a scepter and some gaudy, God-awful crown. I’m suggesting one piece of ornamentation that shows you’re our leader. Collins probably won’t be super dressed up, but he’ll be making it obvious that he’s king of Dahlia.”
“With what, a diamond-encrusted cowboy hat?” Avior retorted sarcastically.
“Honestly? Maybe.”
He snorted. “I’d want a picture of that if such a thing exists.” He rolled his eyes. “What did you have in mind?”
“Some sort of circlet?” I hedged. “I was thinking black metal, with a ruby or a garnet in the middle. Although, from a distance, I doubt Collins would be able to tell if it was a gem or some fancy-ass glass. But just something to show you’re the one he’s dealing with.”
Avior fixed me with a look. “Fine.” He closed his eyes and concentrated.
A burst of magic accompanied the circlet appearing around his head. The deep, violet-red garnet in the center of his forehead was shaped like a needle spearing down toward his nose.
“You’re staring,” he said.
I shut my slack jaw and blinked. “Damn,” I said. “It suits you.”
He snapped his fingers and weight rested around my skull. “If I have to wear something stupid, so do you,” he said.
I went to the tarnished, cracked mirror in the small bedroom we’d been sharing and sought out what he’d put on me.
His circlet was simple black metal.
Mine was bright, shiny silver with a pale blue star in the center of my forehead. The metal was much more intricately designed than his—which didn’t surprise me in the least. He and I were similar in that we liked treating the other much better than we treated ourselves. I saw the world in his gaze and he saw his future in mine.
I turned to face him. “You spoil me,” I said.
He shrugged. “It suits you,” he copied. I wrinkled my nose at him. He laughed.
I stepped out of the path of the mirror so he could fidget with his hair, an irritated expression on his face.
“This is ridiculous,” he muttered under his breath. “Isn’t it enough to say I am the leader? Do I have to wear this thing?”
“Yes. You have to. Because it makes you look hot and also does the other job of showing off that you are our fearless leader and—”
“Starlight. You don’t have to try and cheer me up. I get the point, believe it or not. It just seems ridiculous.”
“It’ll all be fine, Avior. I promise. And, hey, I was also gonna suggest you wrapping some gold chains up your horns if I didn’t think you’d grumble about it. But I know you would so I decided to just leave it at the circlet.”
“I should just cloak my horns...” he muttered, finally getting his hair to cooperate around the circlet.
“Why?”
“Well, I...” He trailed off. “I don’t know.”
I made a face. “Are you insecure about how they look?”
“No. I just... I don’t know. Feel like maybe I should look more human.”
“None of that, my love,” I said, cupping his face in both my hands. “You’re amazing as you are. I fell in love with a daemon. Collins already knows you’re a daemon. No point in trying to hide. Be proud and confident. You’re our leader and you’re damn good at your job. Don’t let this freak you out or get into your head. Understand?”
My head spun with dizziness as he surprise-kissed me. My eyelids fluttered closed and I leaned into the contact. “I understand,” he breathed.
“Good. Now let’s get going. Because if we have to stay in this room for one more minute with you dressed like that I’m gonna tear your clothes off,” I said, taking his hand and dragging him out of our room.
—
“Vindemiator. What a pleasant surprise,” I said as our group gathered outside the audience hall of the Spire. “I thought you and your human...” Deserted. Ran away. Ditched. Fled. Left. Too many words, all of them wrong.
“We did. Scorpius showed up and asked if I’d come to this so he could stay behind and watch the shifter children at the cottage. I...” Vindemiator shook some of his hair out of his face. “If it had been anyone else...” He shrugged. “Doesn’t matter. I’m here. I’m fully fed. If anything goes south, Collins is gonna be dust under my boot.”
“Maybe don’t say that out loud in a place where he can probably hear you,” I advised.
Vindemiator made a face of indifference. “He invited a contingency of daemons into the Spire. He knows the risk.”
“He’s also a Mass-Maker.”
Vindemiator didn’t look concerned. “The only ones in this group I fear for are you and the shifters.”
“I’m decently trained in most magic. I should be okay.”
“For Avior’s sake, I hope that’s true. I don’t want to see what he does if something happens to you.” He glanced over my shoulder. “Speak of the demon.”
Avior’s familiar scent and warmth washed over me as a hand took mine. “We’re going in soon,” he said to me and Vindemiator. “Get ready... for anything.”
“Delightfully vague,” Vindemiator commented. He took a deep breath as though to calm his temper—that muscle in his jaw loosening. “I’ve got your back, Avior.” He sounded begrudging, but genuine.
Avior nodded to him. “We’ll make this quick and get you home to your Freelancer before you know it.”
“Here’s hoping,” Vindemiator muttered.
“Starlight, c’mon. I want you at the front with me.” Avior tugged me by my hand.
There were a few vampire guards standing about the walls of the antechamber as everyone formed ranks. Probably four and they all looked nervous, casting glances at each other.
Avior and I stood before the doors I’d entered through days beforehand. Vega just behind us to our right, Asher to our left. Vindemiator between the two, directly behind. The next row consisted of Milo, Cam, Crux, and Amanda. My unempowered friend had stayed back at the den—with strict orders on Delphinus, Arden, and Brooks to keep them safe.
One of the vampire guards Zipped to stand before me and Avior at the door. “The king will see you now,” he said.
He shoved the doors open.
My hand was clenched around Avior’s so hard I figured my knuckles were probably going to ache within minutes. Avior’s aura burned a little warmer, brushing against mine in an attempt at comforting me.
We strode into the audience hall.
Collins started chuckling. “Quite the entourage you got there,” he said.
Avior didn’t look fazed. “You’re a Mass-Maker. We respect that power—”
“But you don’t trust me. Naw, I get it.” Samuel Collins shook his head, still smiling. “Bring enough people to defend those who can’t rift long enough to escape. Apparently you’re as smart as the rumors say.”
We got close enough for me to realize he wasn’t wearing any sort of ornamentation on his head. No diamond-encrusted cowboy hat, like Avior had joked. No former-Imperial jeweled crown.
Just a large ruby pendant on a gold chain around his neck.
The ruby’s diameter was probably as long as my thumb. There was a large S cut into the top face of the gem. I snuck a glance at Avior out of the corner of my eye to see if Avior had noticed it. If he did, he’d reacted faster and was already looking steadily into Collins’ eyes.
“Rumors?” he asked blithely.
Collins shrugged. “People talk,” he said. “I just happen to hear.”
“I see.”
Collins gestured with a hand. “Let’s dispense of the formalities, shall we?” he asked, actually getting off the throne. He was in a black suit with a pinstriped green shirt underneath the suit coat. And a pair of perfectly-polished cowboy boots.
Avior stiffened as Collins approached me. “Perhaps a dance is in order,” the vampire offered, putting a hand out for me. Vega’s magic burned hot behind me.
“I don’t dance,” I said casually. “Never got the chance to learn how.”
The expression on Collins’ face turned to one of mock-sympathy. “Well, now. That’s too bad, ain’t it?”
“Leave my partner alone,” Avior said. His voice was soft but the threat in it was clear.
“But we’re already such good friends,” Collins retorted. “Overachievin’ Freelancers. Well, former, in my case. They came to me alone just a few days ago. What’s so different now?”
“The two dozen guards lining the walls?” Avior suggested casually. “But last time they weren’t alone.” He glanced significantly at Vega, who towered over everyone even without including how tall his horns were. “And they weren’t standing close enough for you to try to turn them without the chance to defend themselves before.”
“Would I do that?” Collins asked sarcastically.
“If you thought you could gain something from it, I don’t doubt it,” Avior said.
Vega circled silently around me, putting himself between me and the Mass-Maker.
“Let’s not make a scene before discussions of an alliance can even start,” I advised, trying to keep quiet.
I heard the Zip of someone—whether daemon or vampire, I didn’t know—and then a scream from too close to my ear for comfort.
I whirled to see Vindemiator’s hand closed around one of the vampire guard’s throats. Vin’s eyes were glowing a vibrant magenta as light emitted from his hand around the throat. The guard dissolved to dust, his screams echoing around the empty hall.
Asher was bent forward with his teeth bared, already half-shifted enough that his 6′2″ became more like 6′6″ and his muscles were straining the seams of his clothes. He glared with cold, hard amber eyes at the other guards in the hall, as if daring one of them to try something again, ready to shift in a split-second.
Vega and Avior pressed closer to me.
Collins sighed. “Idiot,” he muttered. “Alright. Dancin’s off. Unfortunate. I was lookin’ forward to makin’ some sorta shindig outta all this.” He strolled back over to his throne and plopped down on it. “Thought I could trust y’all to follow my orders without an invocation tonight,” he called to the guards lining the walls. “Anyone else makes a move I don’t say to make will have them dealin’ with me, rather than one of our guests.” Collins met Avior’s gaze. “Sorry about him.”
Don’t trust him, Vega’s voice said quietly. Only to me and Avior.
We never started, Avior and I replied at the same time.
Avior let go of my hand. “Vega,” he said, nodding between Vega and me. Vega dipped his head in agreement and kept watch beside me, much the same way he had when I first entered this hall.
Avior approached Samuel Collins. “You’ll have to give William Solaire my regards,” Avior remarked, gesturing to the S-carved ruby. Collins merely bounced an eyebrow—and I got the distinct impression that William Solaire would be receiving no such regards. Though I didn’t dare imagine the reason why.
I was completely boxed in by daemons—except Asher, on my left side—as Cam took up position on my right with Vega still in front of me and Vindemiator behind. I was the safest person in the room, probably—so why was I still so worried?
I tapped Vega’s shoulder blade. Yes, coordinator?
Something doesn’t feel right.
What?
I’m not sure. My instincts are... going crazy. Asher seems to agree.
Asher, indeed, hadn’t gone back to his normal state, instead staying half-shifted with sharpened teeth bared. Maybe that was why I couldn’t relax—because Asher couldn’t and I knew to trust a shifter’s danger instincts.
Vega glanced at Asher, then peeked at me.
“You have our attention,” Avior continued to Collins. “Don’t assume I’m stupid enough to believe that vampire wasn’t under some sort of invocation that triggered him to attack after something was said. Trying to get our guard down. Most of us have been alive a lot longer than you, and we know most of the tricks in the book. Hell, Vega probably wrote the book.”
Collins glanced over Avior’s shoulder to Vega. Who was scanning the other guards with those burning coals of eyes.
“We’re still willing to negotiate an alliance,” Avior continued. “But trust must be earned.”
“Never did put much stock in the phrase ‘trust but verify’ myself,” Collins agreed. “Verification always should come first.” He kept looking at Vega—and I remembered Vega telling me and Avior that he’d been the one to draw the vampires to the academy when we were preparing our attack. “You seem to be trustin’ me enough to bring bloodbags we can actually feed on with you, though.”
“I brought individuals who I trust to take care of themselves,” Avior said.
“Includin’—apparently—the love of your life.” Collins’ cold silver gaze bored into me.
“Powerful Freelancer,” Avior said. “I don’t advise you to mess with them.”
“I don’t intend to. I’d hate to see what would happen if I pissed off a room full-a daemons for doin’ somethin’ to their king’s lover.”
“I don’t consider myself their king. I consider myself their—”
Vega tore away from me and slammed a vampire into the wall so hard that I definitely heard multiple bones—and maybe their skull—crack. Vindemiator grabbed me and pulled me backward to put Cam and Asher just a little ahead of me to protect my front.
“—leader,” Avior finished with a sigh. “Vega.”
Forgive me, Avior, but I heard them insulting the coordinator under their breath, Vega replied blithely, clawed fingernails digging into the vampire’s throat where he held them around the neck.
Collins looked the vampire in the eyes. “That true?”
The vampire managed a shaky nod—and I remembered vampires couldn’t lie to their makers.
Collins got off his throne. “Enlighten me. What did you deem so important that you had to say it out loud?” He approached Vega and the guard.
“Vega,” Avior entreated.
Vega loosened his grip around the vampire’s throat. The puncture wounds from his nails started sealing in the vampire’s neck. The vampire gasped for air and coughed to get their breath back. Avior, in the blink of an eye, was standing in front of me, holding my hand again.
The vampire coughed again. “I... I said... the Freelancer... is probably... the easiest prey in this room,” they rasped, sounding reluctant but unable to lie.
Samuel Collins sighed and shook his head. “Y’all...” he muttered. “So disappointed.”
With a lash of his hands and a quick twist, the vampire’s head was separated from their body. I blinked in surprise and pressed closer to Avior. Vega dropped what was left of the vampire to the ground.
“Well. This is goin’ poorly. Avior, howsabout we have this conversation in private? You pick one guard, I pick one guard. Everyone else stays here.”
“That can be arranged,” Avior agreed. He paused, gold eyes flicking to linger on Vega. He wanted to take Vega has his guard—his second, the most powerful daemon in the room. But when his eyes met mine, I knew what he was thinking. He also wanted to leave Vega to protect me.
Vindemiator shifted his weight so he was standing closer to me, looking fiercely around the room.
“Vega, to me,” Avior said. “Vin—”
“Understood,” Vindemiator interrupted, setting a hand on my shoulder.
Collins gestured to one of the vampires lining the wall. She approached. The four left the main audience hall to a back room.
“So,” Vindemiator remarked to me casually. “How long did it take you to convince him to put that stupid thing on his head?”
“Next to no time in comparison to how long I chased him around the den’s common room with a plastic pink tiara,” I replied.
Vindemiator snorted. “He’s a good leader. I... I just... I saw what I wanted to see. Before.”
“He doesn’t blame you for being mad at him because of what your partner did. He told me he would’ve felt the same way. It’s... it’s an incredible thing, for the human to earn the devotion of a daemon. It goes deep and lasts a long time. He forgave you for everything you said—and didn’t say but definitely felt—that night when Vega Sliced Moore’s Threads.”
“Then he’s a better man than I am.”
I gave him a confused look.
“Because I haven’t forgiven myself. He fought for our people for decades, and fought to preserve yours for just as long. I should have thought of that.”
“It’s okay, Vin,” I reassured him. “You can let it go.”
“Maybe. But I’m protecting you as fiercely as he protected my partner—and all of your kind—first.”
OK, so, like I mentioned in a previous post, this week has been an absolute nightmare. I can tolerate a lot of bullshit but when work made me cry in my car? Yeah, that takes the cake.
So I wanted to write something angsty because hey, might as well use those negative emotions to good use, eh? And then I saw an interesting headcanon that I wanna explore.
So this is for you @undeniablyemily @angel-bubbles and @redactedverse-thoughts for bringing the idea to life!
Summary: For as long as he could remember, Geordi has always been alone… right?
'A POWER OUTTAGE AT THE CENTRE OF DAHLIA! THE CAUSE? STILL UNKNOWN AFTER SIX MONTHS!' is written on the front page of today's newspaper.
In fact, it’s the first thing that greets Geordi at the counter while the cashier is busy at the back.
Geordi somewhat recognises the picture below the obnoxiously large headline and knows that his favourite bookstore is nestled between the local grocer and a pharmacy.
The picture does nothing to actually show which building had the blackout, but something on the tip of his tongue stirs. Nagging in the back of his mind.
"Sorry for the wait!" The cashier reappears. Looking a bit haggard which Geordi can't fault. It's lunchtime anyway. "That'll be $15, please."
Geordi pays for his food and thinks nothing more of the newspaper when he returns to the office.
"Finally! I thought the week would never end!" A coworker cheers beside him. Just as Geordi was about to clock out for the day, a few of his colleagues invited him out to dinner. The offer was too good to pass up, and besides, the alternative would be him binge-watching the latest series on Netflix and eating dinner alone.
And so here they are now.
"My eyes were seriously about to roll out of their socket if I have to see another slide." Another coworker murmurs. Everyone had ordered their food, so now conversations flow pleasantly around the table. Geordi soaks up on the atmosphere, occasionally nodding when addressed.
When cutleries scrap on plates and wine glasses clink, Geordi suddenly finds himself at the centre of attention.
"We would've had overtime today if it weren't for Geordi's quick thinking during the presentation," His Art Director brags, face flushed red after his third refill. Geordi ducks shyly when others chime in agreement. "I was going to punch the clients if they didn't stop discussing how many assets we had to do for the campaign. Deadass."
"Geordi has been a lifesaver lately! And hey, don't think we didn't notice how you always clocked out on time on Friday nowadays," Another colleague interjects. He then raises an eyebrow. "Got someone waiting at home, eh?"
Geordi rolls his eyes, so used to his colleagues' shenanigans by now. After all, they were there for him after his last breakup. "I'm still single, guys. You knew how bad my last relationship went down, so I wanted to enjoy the single life for a while."
This time, someone from the client managing team pipes up. They're relatively new, so Geordi fails to remember his name. "See, here's the thing - I've heard about you from Mark. About how you were before, and let me say that even I can see the difference! Like, c'mon, dude; you live like any other man who has a partner!"
But Geordi just shakes his head, a wry smile on his face.
There hasn't been anyone special in his life ever since he moved to Dahlia. Ever since he left his abusive partner. Aside from his parents, no one had looked at Geordi and seen him as someone needed to keep safe, to love dearly.
"I love you, Geordi... always..."
Right?
-
Lately, the nagging in the recess of his mind and the tingle on his tongue are becoming difficult to ignore.
And Geordi would catch himself behaving out of sorts. He'd absentmindedly prepare two mugs of coffee every morning ("Brown sugar instead of regular white? How did you know that's the way I like it?"), vacuumed the house once a week ("Sorry, baby, I didn't mean to wake you up. I just need to deal with these dust bunnies before they take over our home.") and during a grocery run, cups of chocolate puddings somehow ends up in his cart ("I can't help it, Geordi! Chocolate puddings are my ultimate weakness! Don't laugh at me!")
When did these new habits come from?
Life continues regardless of how out of sorts Geordi has been lately. There are always some bills to be paid, relatives coming over for a surprise visit and never-ending projects in the agency.
Geordi has no time to spare in musing over odd habits or how cold the bed is on some nights.
"You always worked so hard, baby. I know you're not made of glass, but you don't throw a diamond against the wall either. So how about a break, yeah? I hereby declare Netflix and cuddle time is in session!"
Geordi blinks and registers the tablet on his lap. Season two of Demon Slayer is paused on the screen. Unconsciously, Geordi turns to the left as if expecting someone to sit beside him on the couch.
Wait - wasn't he checking some work e-mails just now?
Physical exhaustion begins to made way for emotional ones. Anxiety, sorrow, yearning and helplessness begin to bubble in his heart. Begin to drive him slowly insane.
It's like there's something in the corner of his eyes; there but just out of sight. On the tip of his tongue. An echo at the back of his mind. Something that he's missing - someone -
An unknown sound - liken to a flame bursting into life or shattering wind chimes - has Geordi jerk violently. The tablet clatter on the floor when he abruptly stands. His eyes widen at the sight of the intruder that appears in his living room from thin air.
The first thing that Geordi notices about the intruder is the pair of horns on his head, large and intimidating in a way that something in him whispers that they're as genuine as they look. Next is the painfully solemn expression on his handsome face that's familiar to a mortician.
"I'm sorry... I'm so very sorry, Geordi." The inhuman intruder murmurs, heavy with regret, sorrow and yet, he has the gentlest voice that Geordi has ever heard. At that moment, a sense of calm washes over him.
It reminds him of mothers cooing their babies to sleep — the long, drawn-out sigh after filling your lungs with your favourite scents.
"Who... who are you?" Geordi begins cautiously, a little apprehensively.
The intruder gives him a heartbreaking smile which didn't make sense at all. "A friend, Geordi. One that promised to look after you to my best ability."
"Oh, hey, Cam! Didn't think, uh, anime conventions are your thing too. We should compare nendoroids in the office next time! Hmm? Oh right! Geordi, this is my work buddy - Camelopardalis. Cam. He's a pretty chill guy."
"You're... Cam... Camelopardalis," Geordi blurts out. It startles him. Why does he know this stranger - notstranger.afriend.cameoverfordinnersometime.aserenitydaemon - and why is his head begin to throb painfully!? It's as if his mind is trying to make sense of the gap between the barrages of torn pictures and Camelopardalis' alarmed expression. "I know you. You're their -"
Like a bursting dam, everything came flooding back. Memories resurface, and with them, a heartache, unlike anything that Geordi has ever experienced before:
"Geordi? Like that guy from Star Trek? No, no! I think that's a great name! He's a great character! I mean, I never really watched Star Trek -"
"Move in with you? Are you sure? I don't mind waiting until we hit the two-year mark. I'm comfortable with following your pace, baby."
"Hahaha... yeah... like a mind reader. Hey... Geordi? Are you busy? I-I think it's time you know what I exactly do for a living..."
A picture pushes towards the front of Geordi's mind. A face begins to clear up. Absentmindedly, he feels strong hands on his shoulders; grounding him. Gentle voice trying its best to soothe his pounding head.
"I wish I could bring you to the Games, Geordi. It's like the tournament arcs in animes; you'd love it!"
...
"Hmm? Nah, the event is only for students. God, it's been four years since I last graduated from D.A.M.N. That's the magical school hosting the E&E Games this year. I'm just attending as a representative of the Department."
...
"Yeah, they already cleared my leaves. So I'm down with whatever you want to do after the event's over! Actually... how do you feel about a short vacation trip?"
...
"Alright, I'll see you tonight. I love you, Geordi. Always."
Geordi's heart stutters to a stop in his chest. As though he’s submerged under a rushing fiver, he finds himself staring at the sorrowful Serenity Daemon with one burning question:
"Cam? Cam, where are they?" Geordi desperately asks, hot tears dripping down. "Where's Cutie?"
It didn't take long for him to put together the passing time when his memories return. To understand where his new habits came from.
Six months have passed since Geordi saw his better half off to work.
The Serenity Daemon's own heart broke. The man's despair, grief and confusion blanket him like hot, black tar, but he soldier on. "A tragedy happened during the E&E Games and... and they were one of the many casualties," Camelopardalis did his best to explain under Geordi's crushing emotions. Both of them deserve this; truth and self-punishment. This poor human deserves to know the fate of his lover. As for Camelopardalis, it's self-punishment for what he has to do soon. "They were very brave, Geordi. They saved so many lives that day, but a Shade - dead, hungry things - got to them before reinforcement could arrive. I'm so sorry, Geordi."
The heartbreaking wail that escape the human would've destroyed a young Serenity or Empathy Daemon. But Camelopardalis is old, jaded. And yet he hurts all the same for his friend and the one they both lost.
"They were supposed to come home," Geordi sobs. He falls to his knees, suddenly no longer having the strength to stand up. "We were supposed to go to San Diego b-because they've been working non-stop... why... why is this happening?"
Camelopardalis is oddly silent. And then, a horrible memory dawns on him.
This is their second confrontation.
"I waited. And waited for them to come home," Geordi's voice wavers. His head is spinning, heart as tight as a noose. "I called so many times, but it went to voicemails. But then you came at midnight. A-And you apologised."
Geordi remembers being worried sick when Cutie failed to pick up his fifth call. On his twelfth, Camelopardalis appeared - "Daemons can teleport, baby. They called it Rift" - looking half-dead, wouldn't stop apologising despite him begging for an explanation and then... nothing.
No memories of Cutie and all of the Telepath's belonging - nothing.
"What did you do to me?" Geordi asks, feeling sick with stomach lurching. His cheeks are so wet, but grief and betrayal are powerful emotions. Grief at the loss of his love and betrayal from someone supposed to be a friend.
Camelopardalis closes his eyes. His purpose is to bring peace, serenity... but right now? He has no choice but to play as a necessary evil.
All in the name of the Department.
"To maintain the secrecy of the Empowered world," The Serenity Daemon carefully explains, donning on his Department officer's mask. "Those who have a human lover must have their memories modified should the Empowered individual passed away. I belong to a branch of the Department that specialises in it."
It’s a horrible thing to take in. Geordi struggles to comprehend that his entire world has been yank underneath his feet in a single night, and now, he realises the horror behind Camelopardalis's implication.
"They don't have anyone, Cam!" Geordi scream. "T-They said they were an orphan. They could count all the friends they have - had, oh God, Cutie! - on one hand. So please, Cam," It hurts. His heart hurts so much, but Geordi needs to exert some control over the ride that drained him of his composure and sanity. Need to move the Daemon's heart even if he has to beg. "Please don't take them away from me anymore. They don't have anyone else! Please, Cam. Please. I love them. L-Let me keep their memories."
Camelopardalis fails to hold his own tears back. Not knowing what else to do, he could only repeat the words he murmured to Geordi on the night that claimed Cutie's life.
"I'm so sorry, Geordi... I'm so so sorry for this..."
Human reflexes are nothing compared to Daemon’s. Before Geordi could do something, anything, Camelopardalis quickly put him to sleep. The Serenity Daemon smoothly catches him before Geordi fell on the floor like a doll.
"I love you, Geordi... always..."
Hearing the echo of his dear friend's voice in the recess of Geordi's mind made Camelopardalis weeps harder.
"I'll do my best to keep my promise to you, my friend," Camelopardalis murmurs, his magic gently weaving around the human's subconscious. He hums a sweet lullaby when Geordi whimpers. "I'll keep him safe for you. Know that you will forever be dearly missed by us."
Camelopardalis is not a young Daemon. He has seen his share of grief as well as serenity born from happy couples. But he has never seen a powerful bond between Geordi and his partner that not even his magic could subdue.
Perhaps this is because Geordi himself is a remarkable Unempowered human. That his love for them compensate for the loss of his memories with Cutie's habits and manners.
It awed and humbled Camelopardalis that because of Geordi, Cutie lives on.
