Edit: WHOPPEEEE I'm back!!!! And trying out new styles ✌️✌️ I will probably try to draw properly colored with shading and lighting and allat when I have the time
The sun’s low, casting long shadows on the red-gold sands. The wind carries the scent of desert lilies and gun oil. A modest arch of scrap metal and polished bones stands at the center of the ceremony, decorated with threadbare lace and scavenged jewels.
Devlin stands at the altar, practically vibrating in his stiff black coat. His hair’s tamed (miracle), and his hands are only shaking a little. He glares lovingly into the horizon, where a golden silhouette begins walking toward him…
It’s Wildfire. She glows like her nickname—desert wind in her hair, long coat fluttering behind her like wings. She looks like heaven descending for a sinner, and Devlin? Looks like he might faint.
Faith sobs softly in the front row, gripping Albus’s hand.
“Do you think they’ll be okay?” she whispers.
Albus, dressed in a surprisingly well-fitted suit (he had to be held down to put it on), just shrugs. “They’ve survived four shootouts, two ambushes, and one possessed outhouse. If that ain’t marriage material, nothing is.”
Karmor sits behind them, adjusting the tie Hipswitch tied way too tight. Hipswitch is pouting.
“I wanted to wear the suit with the horses embroidered. I looked good.”
“You looked like a sexy landmine,” Karmor mutters, blushing.
Hipswitch beams. “So you did notice.”
Mahatma is dabbing his eyes while Sibren tries to discreetly hand him a hip flask. “I’m proud of them,” Mahatma whispers.
“You just like weddings.”
“I like love, you robot-armed hooligan!”
Kerano walks down the aisle throwing flower petals with dramatic twirls like it’s a ballet recital meets action movie. Kipp follows, clutching the rings like they’re made of flesh and TNT. He waves at Wildfire. She winks. Kipp dies a little.
Blanche is threatening to kill anyone who talks during the vows. Wyvern is live-tweeting it anyway, despite not existing in photos.
Sakura is filming Rosella crying silently (and murderously) into a lace handkerchief. “Shh, you look so majestic, babe,” Sakura whispers.
Colt has Meeka asleep on his lap. Rowen is massaging his shoulders with one hand while polishing a knife with the other. “I give it five minutes before someone pulls a gun,” Rowen mutters.
“I give it three,” Colt grunts.
(They’re both wrong. It’s two.)
Raf and Laz are whispering in the back. Laz is crying softly. Raf’s stealing wedding mints. Plus they were the bartenders.
🌵 MEANWHILE, IN THE BUSHES 🌵
Sol is whispering into a headset: “Target: Vow Exchange. I repeat, Vow Exchange. All units stand by to cry.”
Neeto is ignoring the wedding entirely, hyper-focused through binoculars. “Karmor just scratched his neck. That’s his tell. He’s nervous. What’s he hiding? WHO’S HE KILLING NEXT? Why is his ass look so good in that suit???”
Nex is holding a sign that says “WE’RE JUST HERE FOR THE DRAMA”. He’s wearing shades. No one invited him. No one’s stopping him.
Cupio is sitting on a throne of velvet pillows and pettiness, sipping sparkling wine from a goblet shaped like a screaming skull. “My wedding had pyrotechnics, a blood moon, and Mad Crow crying. This? This is cute, I guess.”
Zeke is laying in a beanbag chair with ketchup all over his face. “Guys… this burger… it heals. It’s like God kissed a cow and then grilled it.”
Kit is just offscreen, nervously typing. “I THOUGHT YOU COULD FEED YOURSELF, I’M SORRY—”
Alliyh is quietly taking inventory of everyone’s outfits like a red carpet commentator.
Caz is probably pickpocketing the officiant.
CreatorTool is glitching in and out of reality muttering “insert heart emoji here.”
Rey is braiding Cupio’s hair while stealing champagne flutes. Nobody questions it.
💍 THE VOWS 💍
Devlin takes Wildfire’s hands, voice rough but steady.
“You saved me. Not just from dying, or being hunted, but from believing I didn’t deserve peace. With you… I want to be good. I want to be whole.”
Wildfire smiles, brushing tears from his cheek.
“And I want to be with you. Even if we fall, or burn, or lose everything again. You’re my home. My fire.”
There’s silence. Then sobbing. Loud, messy, ugly sobbing.
It’s Rosella. Blanche gives her a tissue and whispers, “If you ruin your eyeliner, I will redo it.”
They kiss. The sun hits just right.
The whole desert cheers—loud, chaotic, overlapping screams and laughter. Guns fire into the sky in romantic celebration (and one misfire that takes out the cake topper).
Cupio sighs. “Fine. It’s cute. I give it four hearts out of five… and one bonus ghost.”
Decided to do an official unofficial redesign of the trio from GoodBoyAudios’ Bastard Warrior series! I made Albus tanner with more Warrior-esque clothing, Devlin is also more done up with Artificer and mechanic clothes (I also wanted to do him better justice by making him look more similar artisticly to his brother since my style changed mid-sketch originally) and I did an actual design for Faithful!
I cannot express enough how much I love these characters and this series and I really wanted to do them the justice they deserve.
Okay sooo @soup-sloth, two of your characters were mentioned. Sibren had more of a role. Uhhh…
IM BACK BITCHES! AND BROS! AND ALIENS!
A Quiet Break
The house smelled like pepper and stew—a comforting, earthy scent that meant peace, for once. Karmor leaned against the doorway of the kitchen, just… taking it in. Mahatma was stirring the pot, humming under their breath, while Sibren was slicing bread with a rhythm that almost matched the tune.
For the first time in a long time, everything felt still. No gunfire, no alarms, no desperate comm chatter in the middle of the night. Just clinking utensils and the sound of something simmering.
“Smells good,” Karmor said softly.
Both heads whipped toward him. Even now, months after he’d gotten his voice back, people still weren’t used to it.
Mahatma blinked. “Oh—Karmor. Gods, you scared me again. You need to make noise when you walk in.”
“I did,” Karmor grinned, holding up a finger. “You’re just bad at listening.”
Sibren snorted, brushing crumbs off his cybernetic hand. “Man gets his voice back and immediately becomes a menace.”
“Immediately?” Karmor quipped. “Buddy, I was born a menace.”
That earned a chuckle from both of them—small, easy laughter that made Karmor’s chest ache in the best way. He patted the satchel on his hip and started backing toward the hallway. “Don’t burn the stew. I’ve got a surprise to deliver.”
He made his way toward the orphanage wing, where Faith was rocking one of the little ones in a creaky chair. The soft hum of her lullaby filled the air—sweet and worn with tired devotion. Karmor crouched beside her, keeping his voice low so he wouldn’t wake the kid.
“Hey, Faith,” he whispered. “Remember that little treat I mentioned?”
Faith tilted her head with a small smile. “The one about a hot spring spa?”
“That’s the one.” He grinned and held up his tablet, the light reflecting in his blue eyes. “I got the tickets. All of us—and the kids too! There’s a play pool area for them, hot springs for us, and even an oil spa for Hipswitch. The brochure said it helps with metal corrosion and body strain.”
Faith chuckled, shaking her head in disbelief. “You’re seriously excited about this, huh?”
“Hell yeah I am,” Karmor said, keeping his voice soft. “We need this. Everyone needs this. After the Triad mess, and—” He hesitated, then exhaled. “—after Mad Crow.”
Faith’s smile faded a little, but she nodded. “Then it’s settled. We’ll go. You did good, Karmor.”
He gave a small, proud salute and slipped out before she could see the emotion creeping up on him.
Down the hall, he found Hipswitch exactly where he expected: sitting in their shared quarters, hunched over a table scattered with datapads, reading reports from their last mission. The dim glow of the holoscreen made his chrome features gleam.
Karmor leaned on the doorway, watching quietly. His heart softened. He still couldn’t believe this was his life—this calm, this person who stayed, despite all the chaos attached to his name.
Karmor’s smile faltered. He hated that question. It always came with that cautious note, like everyone was afraid he’d break again.
“I’m fine,” he said. “Mahatma patched me up. It’s just a scar now. You can stop worrying.”
Hipswitch gave a small, awkward chuckle, rubbing the back of his neck. “Right, right. Sorry. Just… hard to turn that off.”
Karmor stepped closer, holding up the tablet like it was a sacred relic. “Then maybe this’ll help. Hot spring vacation. Tickets. For you, me, the gang, and the kids.”
Hipswitch blinked. “You bought tickets? Like. Real ones?”
Karmor nodded, a smug little grin creeping in. “Yep. With actual credits. Been saving up since the last bounty.”
There was a beat of silence, and then Hipswitch’s expression softened, the corner of his mouth lifting. “You’re unbelievable, you know that?”
“Only on good days,” Karmor teased. “So, what do you say? You, me, the gang, no bounty alerts, no Triad breathing down our necks. Just… hot water, food, and maybe—if I bribe you enough—a nap.”
Hipswitch leaned back in his chair, the tension in his shoulders melting for the first time in weeks. “You had me at ‘nap.’”
Karmor smirked. “Knew it. Pack your gear, oil your joints, and maybe leave your rifle for once.”
“…No promises,” Hipswitch said, grinning now.
Karmor laughed—a real, warm laugh that filled the room. “Yeah, didn’t think so. But I’ll take it.”
—————————————————————————
The morning of the trip began with Karmor already sweating before sunrise.
Not because of the heat — though Springrock’s twin suns didn’t help — but because no one was moving fast enough for his liking.
“Where’s the—? No, not that bag, the other one,” Karmor groaned, juggling three duffels, a medkit, and something that clanked ominously when he set it down. “We’re leaving in ten minutes!”
From the kitchen, Sibren called, “You said thirty minutes ago that we were leaving in ten minutes!”
“Yeah, and I meant it! Time’s a circle, Sibren!”
Faith laughed softly as she adjusted the strap of a baby carrier across her shoulder. Inside, a sleepy toddler blinked up at her. Two more kids were hanging onto Albus’s coat like it was a lifeline, one tugging on his belt with sticky hands.
“Albus,” Faith said gently, “you don’t have to carry all three—”
“Oh, I do,” Albus interrupted, expression grim as if he were heading into battle. “They’re feral if separated.”
One of the kids sneezed directly on his face.
He blinked. “…See?”
Faith smothered a laugh as Mahatma approached, holding the resort pamphlet like a sacred text. “According to this,” they began in their calm, scholarly tone, “the springs have three separate temperature pools, all filtered through mineral stone. The brochure says it ‘soothes body, mind, and soul.’”
Karmor, still half-buried in bags, muttered, “Good. I’m gonna need all three soothed by the time we get there.”
“Where’s Devlin?” Albus asked, glancing around while swatting a curious child hand away from his sword.
“Still in his garage,” Faith sighed. “He said he had to ‘finish calibrating something.’”
Albus groaned. “He always says that. Fine. I’ll go drag him out before he welds himself to a wall again.”
———————————————————————————
[Devlin’s Workshop]
Sparks flew. The entire place smelled like oil, smoke, and stubbornness. Devlin had a torch in one hand, goggles on his face, and about five different projects scattered across his table.
“Dev,” Albus said flatly, stepping into the doorway.
Devlin didn’t look up. “Busy.”
Albus crossed his arms. “Vacation.”
Devlin’s hand twitched. “Working.”
Albus sighed through his nose like a disappointed parent, which he developed after deciding to help Faith with the children. “We haven’t taken a single day off since Faith’s clinic got rebuilt. You’re coming with us.”
“No.”
“Yes.”
“Albus, I swear to every saint in the desert—”
“Dev, if I have to carry you out like a toolbox, I will.”
There was a long pause. Devlin finally looked up, face covered in soot. “…You’d never.”
Albus stepped forward, grabbed him by the back of his jacket like a cat, and began dragging him out of the garage. Devlin protested the whole way, flailing with his wrench.
“Let go! I was aligning the servo coil!”
“Congratulations, you’re aligning your priorities now,” Albus grunted.
“Unhand me, brute!”
“Shut up, you love hot water.”
By the time they rejoined the group, Devlin’s hair was a mess, his goggles still on, and he looked like someone had abducted him mid-project.
Faith smiled. “Glad you could make it.”
“I was forced,” Devlin hissed, but the way he tucked his tools safely into a bag betrayed that tiny sliver of excitement he’d never admit to.
———————————————————————————
[At the Dock – Boarding the Transport]
The group stood in front of the shuttle that would take them to the springs. Mahatma double-checked the pamphlet again, mumbling, “Pets, weapons, and volatile chemicals are not permitted on-site.”
Everyone went silent.
Six sets of eyes turned toward Sibren.
“…What?” he said, clutching a suspiciously large duffel.
Karmor pointed. “That bag is literally humming.”
Sibren shrugged. “Backup cooking gear.”
“It’s buzzing.”
“It’s… a vibrating whisk.”
Karmor pinched the bridge of his nose. “I am so close to leaving you on this dock.”
“Love you too, fearless leader,” Sibren said, throwing an arm around him.
Meanwhile, Hipswitch was sitting on a crate nearby, polishing a piece of his armor. His optics flicked toward Karmor. “Need help with the luggage?”
Karmor paused mid-bag-throw. His whole soul wanted to say yes. But he remembered what he told Hipswitch earlier.
“Nope. You’re supposed to rest,” he said, squinting up at him like a very angry cat. “Doctor’s orders. My orders. Sit there and look pretty.”
Hipswitch chuckled, leaning back. “You sure you don’t want me to carry the heavy stuff?”
“Oh, I want to,” Karmor said, huffing as he hauled another bag, “but if you throw out your back or corrode a joint, I’m the one who has to deal with Mahatma’s lecture about it.”
“Fair point,” Hipswitch said, amusement glinting in his voice.
Faith approached, helping Karmor with a smaller crate. “You know, you’re supposed to relax too.”
Karmor laughed breathlessly. “Relaxation starts after I get everyone in the vehicle and no one explodes.”
“High standards,” Hipswitch teased.
“Low expectations,” Karmor shot back, smirking.
Finally, everyone was loaded up—children strapped in, Devlin still muttering about torque ratios, Mahatma handing out calming tea packets “for stress,” and Sibren already passing around snacks like it was a road trip.
As the shuttle’s engines warmed up, Karmor slumped into a seat beside Hipswitch, finally letting himself breathe.
The vehicle rumbled to life, and for the first time in a long time, the sound wasn’t one of war—it was just travel.
“Next stop,” Mahatma announced, reading from the pamphlet with an almost reverent tone, “The Oasis Springs Resort and Sanctuary.”
Karmor grinned, closing his eyes. “If anyone wakes me before we get there, I’m throwing them out mid-flight.”
“Even me?” Hipswitch asked.
Karmor cracked one eye open, smiling faintly. “You snore too loud for that mercy.”
And just like that, they left Springrock’s dust behind—heading, for once, toward something soft, something peaceful, something that felt almost like home.
The Oasis Springs Resort was everything the brochure promised and somehow even more ridiculous.
Steaming pools sparkled under warm lanterns, carved into glowing red rock. Water trickled down from the cliffs in ribbons of gold, and the air smelled faintly of citrus oils and mineral steam.
Karmor stood at the edge, hands on his hips, absolutely vibrating with excitement.
“Oh, this is heaven.”
Faith smiled beside him, already holding the hands of two giggling kids who had stripped down to swimsuits faster than the laws of physics should allow.
“Remember,” she said gently, “no running—”
“CANNONBAAALLLLL!”
Albus’s shout split the air like a gunshot. He launched himself into the main pool with terrifying speed and perfect form. The splash was so massive it might’ve qualified as a localized weather event.
“ALBUS!” Faith yelped, shielding the kids as a tidal wave of mineral water drenched them.
Too late. The little ones screamed with glee and immediately followed his example, sprinting for the edge.
“NO—WAIT—” Karmor started, but five cannonballs later, the entire left side of the pool was a churning maelstrom of children.
Hipswitch stood a few feet away, arms crossed, steam condensing on his chrome plating. His optics flickered in amusement. “That went well.”
Karmor gave him the most betrayed look imaginable. “You could’ve stopped them!”
“I could’ve,” Hipswitch said casually. “But this is way funnier.”
Faith sighed and, with long-suffering grace, waded in to start giving swim lessons before someone learned to float the hard way.
“All right, everyone—kick your feet! No biting!”
Meanwhile, Mahatma had stationed themself (and Attila, whose voice was already muttering snark in their ear) at the shallow edge. Their pant legs were rolled up, feet submerged, a cup of tea somehow balanced on one knee.
“This is pleasant,” they murmured.
Attila’s voice hissed back in their mind: Pleasant until the tall one cannonballs again.
“Noted,” Mahatma replied serenely.
Devlin, on the other hand, had wandered into one of the smaller side pools meant for “deep relaxation” and promptly dozed off, floating like a corpse in a hoodie.
Albus pointed him out mid-splash. “Is he—uh—dead?”
Mahatma didn’t even look up. “No, just resting his socially exhausted neurons.”
Across the way, Sibren was already half-lounged on a stool at the bar carved into the rock wall. He waved lazily, a tall cup of neon-colored fruit ice cream in hand. “Y’all want anything? They got mango-mint and something called ‘lava berry!’”
“Just bring me peace!” Karmor called back, ducking as another kid launched themselves into the pool.
But honestly—he wasn’t mad. Not even close.
Because in the middle of all the chaos, the laughter, the splashes—he finally felt something he hadn’t in a long, long time.
Normal.
He stripped off his towel and dove into the water with a smooth arc, surfacing a few seconds later, hair slicked back and grin wide.
“Ha!” he shouted, sending a wave at Albus, who immediately retaliated. The two splashed each other like kids in a summer pond until Faith scolded them both (“You’re supposed to be role models!”).
But Karmor didn’t care. He was laughing too hard.
He floated on his back, eyes half-closed, the suns’ reflection dancing across the water. For once, there were no ghosts whispering in his head—no Mad Crow, no Triad, no noise but joy.
He flipped upright again, kicking off the bottom like an otter, zipping around playfully between the others. A few of the kids squealed as he swam by.
“Whoa, look at him go!”
“Uncle Karmor’s a fish!!”
“Otter!” he corrected between laughs, dunking under and popping back up right behind Faith to scare her.
Hipswitch sat at the pool’s edge watching, his metal tail coiled loosely, a tiny smile curving his usually stoic face.
Hipswitch tilted his head, optics glinting. “You sure? You once bought a hoverboard from Echo that exploded on ignition.”
“Yeah,” Karmor said, “and that was number two.”
He rested his chin on his arms, floating near Hipswitch’s knees. Steam curled around them in lazy spirals. For a long moment, there was no sound but the water and distant laughter.
Then Karmor said quietly, “You know… we deserve this. All of us.”
Hipswitch nodded, eyes softening. “Yeah. We really do.”
Behind them, Albus did another cannonball, soaking both of them instantly.
“ALBUS!” Karmor barked, sputtering.
Albus just raised both fists in victory. “No regrets!”
The kids cheered, following his lead again.
Karmor turned to Hipswitch with a deadpan expression. “Remind me next time to book a private pool.”
“Mm. Nah,” Hipswitch said, leaning down to flick a droplet from Karmor’s nose. “You’d miss the noise.”
Karmor laughed, soft and genuine. “Yeah… probably.”
He floated back into the water, spinning lazily like an otter in a dream, surrounded by family—loud, messy, alive.
And for once, that was all he needed.
—————————————————————————
[At the Glowing Jewel Restaurant]
Dinner was quiet in that heavy, content way that comes after laughter and warmth.
The air still smelled faintly of minerals and sweet fruit syrup from the ice cream Sibren had smuggled to everyone earlier. The group sat around a low lantern-lit table in the outdoor dining space—stone walls glowing from the reflection of the pools nearby.
Most of the kids were already nodding off before dessert even hit the table. Kerano, curled up on a blanket beside Faith, had her little mouth open and was softly snoring, one small hand tangled in Faith’s sleeve.
Faith smiled tiredly, brushing a bit of damp hair from the girl’s forehead. “She’s out cold,” she murmured.
Beside her, Albus sat still, shoulders hunched, a bowl of stew half-finished in front of him. It was more than he’d eaten in days—tiny steps, but real ones. His expression softened when Faith leaned her head on his shoulder.
“You did good,” she whispered, voice almost lost in the night breeze.
He huffed a faint laugh. “I just didn’t burn dinner.”
Faith chuckled quietly, shaking her head. “That’s not what I meant.”
Albus’s eyes flicked down toward Kerano, sleeping peacefully. His jaw tightened for a heartbeat, then eased. “Yeah. I know.”
He pressed a small kiss to Faith’s temple, barely there but warm.
. . .
On the other side of the patio, Devlin had retreated to one of the glowing garden benches, half in shadow, phone pressed to his ear.
He was speaking low, the tone soft and warm in a way few ever got to hear.
“Yeah… we got here fine,” he murmured, smile tugging at his mouth. “No, I didn’t blow anything up. …Albus dragged me out of the garage again. Mmhm. Yeah, yeah, I’ll call you when we head back. I—”
He hesitated, glancing over his shoulder at the group, then dropped his voice to a hush. “I miss you too.”
From across the way, Albus—who had the subtlety of a freight train—called out, “Tell your girl I said hi!”
Devlin turned, narrowing his eyes. “You—! You eavesdropping dick!”
Albus grinned, too pleased with himself. “Can’t help it if you’re whispering all cute in public!”
“Go soak your head in a sandstorm,” Devlin muttered, cheeks pink as he hung up.
Faith giggled into her hand, and even Karmor, who had been half-asleep, cracked one eye open to smirk. “Romance in the family runs deep.”
“Shut up,” Devlin groaned, rubbing his face—but he was smiling.
.. .. ..
Mahatma and Attila had clearly reached their limit hours ago. Mahatma sat slumped in a chair near the garden lights, their glasses sliding down their nose, Attila’s faint grumbling reduced to quiet background static in their shared mind.
Sibren walked up, shaking his head with a fond grin. “You two look like somebody unplugged your batteries.”
“Resting,” Mahatma mumbled, eyes barely open.
“Yeah, yeah,” Sibren said softly, sliding one arm under them. “C’mon, doc. Time to hit the beds before you fossilize.”
He lifted them easily, Attila mumbling faint protests in Mahatma’s voice: I can walk.
Sibren chuckled. “Sure you can, Attila. After eight hours of sleep.”
And with that, he carried them both off into the quiet inn hallways, humming something under his breath.
… … …
Later, when most of the lights had dimmed, the world went quiet—just the chirp of insects and the soft hiss of the hot springs. Steam drifted lazily into the cool night air, glowing under the moonlight.
Hipswitch sat on one of the benches near the springs, watching the mist swirl like clouds. His optics flickered as Karmor emerged from the sauna, face flushed, hair damp, towel half-sliding off his shoulders.
“…You look like you lost a fight with a kettle,” Hipswitch said.
Karmor waved a hand weakly. “I was fine.”
“Until you stayed in there for forty minutes?”
“…Time’s a circle.”
Hipswitch snorted, shaking his head as Karmor stumbled closer. “You’re going to melt.”
“Then you can rebuild me,” Karmor muttered, plopping down beside him—and immediately letting his head drop into Hipswitch’s lap.
Steam curled gently around them, lantern light reflecting off Hipswitch’s metal fingers as he brushed damp strands of hair from Karmor’s face.
“You’re an idiot,” he said softly.
Karmor, eyes half-lidded, grinned. “Your idiot.”
Hipswitch went still for half a second, the faintest flicker in his optics before he murmured, “Yeah… guess so.”
Hipswitch nodded, his voice quiet. “They needed this. So did you.”
Karmor’s breathing slowed, body warm and heavy with exhaustion. “Mm. Don’t let me drown if I roll off the bench.”
“I’ll save you,” Hipswitch said dryly. “Again.”
“…Good,” Karmor mumbled, already half-asleep.
The night stretched still and kind around them. Faith and Albus sat nearby with the kids curled under blankets, Devlin snoring softly from his chair, Sibren’s laughter faint in the distance as he came back from tucking everyone in.
For once, there was no alarm. No fear. No fight to survive.
Just family.
Just peace.
Just the sound of water and the stars overhead…
Epilogue: “Bad Adults”
Morning sunlight spilled over the pools, scattering golden ripples across the stone. The air was crisp, birds chirping, steam rising in lazy curls.
Faith stood at the edge of the main pool, arms crossed, eyes narrowed in the way that could make even the toughest bounty hunters flinch.
Across from her stood the culprits:
Karmor and Albus. Both dripping wet, both sheepish, both clearly trying not to laugh.
“So,” Faith began slowly, voice dangerously calm. “Which one of you told the children it was okay to cannonball into the spa again?”
Karmor immediately pointed at Albus. “Him.”
“Traitor,” Albus muttered.
Faith sighed, rubbing her temples. “You’re supposed to be examples. Not—” she gestured vaguely at the soaking pair “—chaotic sea creatures!”
“We were just… uh…” Karmor scratched the back of his neck, water still dripping down his hair. “Testing the depth. For safety.”
“Safety,” Faith repeated flatly.
Albus coughed. “Yeah. We’re professionals.”
One of the kids giggled from the sidelines. “Uncle Karmor did a backflip!”
Faith turned her glare back to him.
Karmor froze. “…In my defense, it was a good backflip.”
“Bad. Adults.” Faith declared, pointing toward the exit. “Out. Towels. Now. And you’re both on cleanup duty tonight.”
As they trudged out of the pool in defeat, Hipswitch called from his seat near the edge, absolutely grinning. “Nice form, though.”
Karmor shot him a look. “Not helping.”
Hipswitch tilted his head. “Wasn’t trying to.”
Albus snorted, still dripping, and muttered, “Totally worth it.”
Faith heard that. “What was that?!”
“NOTHING!” the two said in perfect sync, slipping and scrambling off like scolded teenagers while the kids burst out laughing.
And just like that—
the laughter returned, light and easy under the Springrock sun.
