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White Tattoo Pt. 1 || Sedona + Echo || April, 2025

Echo: Echo bites down on the cap of a fine tip sharpie and takes Sed's hand. Hers now.

She starts to draw.

Sedona: "Well, good mornin' to you, too. What you drawin' on me?"

Echo: You'll see.

She continues the small delicate drawing until he has a fine lined mouse outline just between the wedge of his left thumb and index finger.

"Ta-da!"

Sedona: "Well, now you gotta draw it on me every day."

Echo: "Everyday?"

Sedona: "I can't be gettin' tattoos. Tried. Just goes away."

Echo: "Have you tried henna or those new tattoo pens? Wait...what did you get tattooed on you?"

Sedona: "Nothin'. Piercins don't work. I took a buddy's gun and drew a smiley face. It just gone a minute later."

Echo: She looked down to see if the mouse was still there. "Ink stains should stay for a little longer, no?"

Sedona: "Guess so," he smiled. "Put your name on it."

Echo: Really?

But she brought his hand closer, adding her name along the tail in tiny handwriting.

"I'll pick up one of those pens then, just for you."

Sedona: "What, tiny pen?" He turned his hand to admire her name.

"My first tattoo."

Echo: "Mm-mm."

A small shake of her head.

"They have things that last for like a week now, and I can even get colors!"

She looked at the little mouse, smiling and picked up the pen again, this time adding a small heart coming from it as if it were a kiss.

"There. Now it's perfect."

Sedona: "Gimmie." He held out both hands, pulling hers closer once she gave up the pen. He considered a moment before making an attempt at a rose as delicate as her drawing.

Echo: With the pen surrendered, she let him pull her hand closer, following the motion as she adjusted to kneel, sitting back on her heels. Realizing what he was, she hummed in approval.

“Aw.”

Sedona: "Drawin' was my sisters' thing. You got any of them?"

Echo: Another shake of her head, but she stopped to reconsider.

"Maybe, but I was rescued by my mistress. She found me half-drowned."

Sedona: "Wanna tell me 'bout that?"

Echo: She spoke to the delicate rose inked on her skin.

"I was born a mouse—I’ve told you before. And you know, you find mice everywhere."

They were vermin for a reason.

"I was in the sewer, as part of the underdark. And I must have been too little for my family. I just remember being pushed off and falling into the water. The rest of the pack had to survive."

Sedona: "I know you is." He hadn't forgotten. Like so many aspects of her, in the end, she was just Echo to him. An entity of itself.

"Guess we both had shitty childhoods."

Echo: A slim shoulder lifted and fell.

“I don’t blame them. I make my own pack now, yeah?”

She took his hand between hers, lifting it to her lips, and gave it a kiss, but then lips parted to playfully bite down. She couldn’t stay serious for too long.

Sedona: "That what cha gonna do, huh?" It wasn't in him to remain serious for too long, either. Just another drop in the bucket for compatibility that he would never think about. He was too busy trying to pull her on top of him and tickle.

Echo: “Yis!” she squeaked, though her triumph was short-lived. His hands found her exposed midriff, and she jerked, swatting at them. She curled up laughing, shaking her head as if that would stop the assault.

“N-n-not fair!”

Sedona: "Grrr!" he playfully nibbled at exposed skin, nuzzling and eventually blowing a raspberry on her stomach, just to hear more of those delightful noises.

Echo: She could fight back, try to tickle him, but it was useless. Poking did nothing. Biting? Not a chance. The bastard was immune.

Laughter poured out of her, her stomach and sides aching as she squirmed, desperate to escape. She almost made it before his lips met her skin, and a startled squeak escaped her.

“T-truce!” she gasped, hands flying up in surrender. “Y-you win, you menace!”

Sedona: His hands stilled long enough to look her over. Fucking Christ, he was checking if she was alright despite knowing he would know the moment she wasn't. That was love, wasn't it? He was still learning.

"I ain't no menace. What's the opposite of menace? I need me an antonym. Delight! Sure. I'm a fuckin' delight." He hugged his little mouse to his chest and gently squeezed, humming as his mother used to when she swung him in a bear hug as a little boy.

Echo: Echo was fine—mostly. Just a bruised ego from being bested. The little familiar had a plan to tackle him, to reclaim her victory, but before she could make her move, strong arms stole her momentum.

Like a ragdoll, she was pulled against his chest, trapped in warmth. Any resistance melted the moment she felt the hum. She gave in, shifting in his lap to curl up more comfortably, her arms looping around his waist.

“I think you’re both,” she murmured, voice softer now as she tucked her head into the curve of his neck. “You’re a menace and a delight.” He might feel the curve of her lips smiling against his skin.

Sedona: "I think you are, too," he said into her hair. Her surrender was as cute as everything else, but made him wonder. Something that had been on his mind for weeks now.

"Do you like bein' mine? Like... you like bein' claimed and shit?"

Echo: “You think I’m a menace?” she asked, lifting her head just enough to give him an incredulous look. A sweet baby angel like her? Absolutely incapable of wrongdoing.

Still, she settled back against his shoulder, fingers idly tracing along his ribs as she let his question roll around in her head.

“Do you not want me to be?” Her voice was softer now, more careful. She had always considered herself his, there was no other way to frame it. The thought of anything else left an odd taste on her tongue.

A pause. Her fingers stilled.

“Is that… not what you want?” It dawned on her, suddenly, a sinking thought creeping in. He wanted his own life, right?

Sedona: Sedona shook his head, his eyes light but exasperated. That wasn't what he meant and she should have known that. The days she didn't hear every thought perfectly were the days of these misunderstandings.

He cupped under her jaw with both hands.

"Baby girl, I'm talking 'bout somethin' else. The whole master thing. The whole... what's it called... Objective? Objectified? Bein' like a pet. You like that or don't you? I mean, if that's your kink I'll be your kink, baby. That's all I'm askin'."

Echo: She looked up at him from her cupped position and blinked. “Oh.”

She’d completely missed what he meant, hadn’t she? Her cheeks flushed a soft pink. The misunderstanding wasn’t just a slip. It said more about how she saw herself than she’d wanted to say out loud.

But forward she pressed. A small shake of her head followed, white strands brushing his fingers.

“No, not like that.”

She had been online enough to understand what he was referring to, and while she was a pet, she wasn’t that type of pet.

“I’m your pet in the way a bird chooses your windowsill every morning. Because it likes your voice and you make it feel safe.” She looked down at his tattoo. “Not because you caged it.”

Sedona: "Babygirl, I'd never cage you." He wanted so much to hold her close. The urge was damn near overwhelming. He would press his forehead to hers instead.

"But you like it, don't you? Sayin' you're mine? I just wanna understand. I ain't no mind reader," he smirked, fighting a laugh he didn't want her to misinterpret.

Slowly, he relinquished his hold, gently scratching under her chin.

Echo: It took her a moment to consider; lips parted like she might speak and then thought better of it. Another slow nod followed.

"Because it means I have a home,” she said quietly. “And I belong.”

It gave her a reason, but she was still looking for purpose with him. That would eventually come.

Her breath left her in a soft sigh as his fingers grazed under her chin, the gentle scritch melting her defenses. The little familiar leaned into his palm, cheek pressing into the warmth of it as she studied the rose he had drawn on her.

“I want to get this done.”

Sedona: She asked for so little. The decorations in their room had nearly filled the blank walls. She had more clothes than him. She wanted adventure and he wanted to give it to her. At some point, his job had become routine, and the only thrill outside of stupidity for the sake of stupidity.

He took her hands and swung them out to the side.

"When you wanna get it done? Today? We'll go find a place that does walk-ins right now and you can get a whole arm of shit," he grinned.

Echo: The little mouse blinked up at her immortal, surprised and delighted by his excitement of getting something done so quickly. He matched her spontaneity without hesitation, and it resonated with her deeply. Could she love him more than she already did?

Her teeth tugged gently at her bottom lip as she considered it and nodded.

“At least the rose for now.”

She glanced down at her arm to look at her old sigil. It was a delicate tattoo from her previous mistress, wrapped around her bicep. She wondered if it still offered protection, even with her mistress gone.

“Do you know anyone who does really clean linework?” she asked softly, eyes drifting back to the rose.

Sedona: His eyes dropped to her lips as she played with them. How easily he was enticed by something so simple. That was her, and she did those little alluring things all the time.

"Rose for now," he echoed. "Yeah, and then what? A mouse with a sword, like that book?" He held an invisible saber and swished it around, but soon his gaze followed hers, and his hand dropped. He had mixed feelings about that tattoo, but never asked about it.

"Could ask Ari. He got ink here."

Echo: “I like that,” she beamed, eyes lighting up as she watched him swing his invisible saber. “But I was thinking more flowers,” she added, a little sing-songy. “I found the prettiest design—maybe for here.”

She tugged up her shirt just enough to trace a line beneath her left breast, then up her sternum with a fingertip.

“A chest piece, maybe. Flowers that climb.”

Her voice dipped into a thoughtful hum, completely unaware of the way his gaze had shifted. “Tell Ari he’s been summoned for an adventure.”

Sedona: "Of course more flowers. You're such a girl." He braced for a fist or palm, his smile impish. It was only a bit of teasing. Flowers suited her as though they had always been, despite her very lack of them.

"Ever seen white tattoos? Seen em once in a book." If anyone could pull them off, it was his familiar.

His.

"I'll call him right now." As soon as he found his brick of a phone.

Echo: “Ah!” She gave his shoulder a shove, more squeak than menace. “So what if I am?”

Vanilla and lavender clung to her like a second skin. What else did he expect?

But then her eyes lit up. “Oh, no…” She hadn’t but they sounded delicate and delightful.

“I think I would like that…”

She sat with her legs tucked crisscross underneath her, hands resting in her lap as she watched him. Then, like a thought striking her mid-breath, she popped up again, balancing on the bed and reached over to his side of the shelf to unplug the phone and hold it out to him.

Sedona: "They fade like it's nothin', but you can stop that, can't you? Magic or whatever." Another glance at her current ink.

He watched as she stood, and the moment she reached for their shared shelf did he realized what she was reaching for. Had she grabbed that from his memory, or something else? He didn't ask most of the time, assuming magic first and always. It's what she was.

So then, without another word, he searched his contacts and put his phone to his ear. Ariel was at a dance studio recording with some pop star he'd never heard of. Break a leg, he told him. Ariel gave him the name of his tattoo artist.

"Yeah, she does walk-ins." The ghoul could be heard through the phone, just above the music. "I thought you couldn't have any?"

"You think it's for me? What did you just say?"

"Oh. Echo's got tattoos?"

"Uh-huh, and she wants another. What's her name?"

"Kareena. She's in Manhattan, soooo don't see much of her anymore."

"Eh, fuck that. I'll let you know if I'm beheaded."

"Kay. Tell Echo I said hi."

Echo: She nodded once. She could make sure it wouldn’t fade. The white ink would look pretty against her skin, and she wanted to look at it.

Once the phone was out of her hands, she plopped back down to her knees, fingers resting on her thighs as she listened, chin tilted toward the muffled voice of Ariel on the line. The moment he said hi, she lifted her hand in a little wave he wouldn’t see.

When the excitement of eavesdropping wore off, she flopped onto her back, arms stretching high above her head with a soft groan. She rolled on her side, squishing her cheek into the blanket as she watched her immortal, her brow lifted at the word 'beheaded'. That wouldn't happen on her watch.

Sedona: Sedona smiled at her silliness and snitched on her wave. Ariel laughed but said nothing, not wanting to embarrass or have his head on a spike.

"You can come with us," Sedona suggested, watching Echo for her reaction. Despite knowing Ariel would decline, he felt compelled to ask anyway.

Once Ariel promised to text the address, he hung up and tossed the phone.

"Today? We gotta get off our asses, then."

Echo: Echo squinted at Sedona, suspicious of his suggestion for more company, but she didn’t argue. It was just a small tattoo today, not the chest piece she had been daydreaming about. That would feel more...intimate. Ariel didn’t need to be around for that. Thankfully, it didn’t seem like he would be.

“Yeah?”

Echo never had plans, so she was always free. The familiar sat up with renewed excitement. Her headphones were around her neck, her bag already thrown over her shoulder.

“Come on,” she grinned, reaching her hand out to him.

Sedona: "Just like that?" he laughed, taking her hand. "Gotta let me dance in the bathroom a minute. Gotta look my best for my girl."

Getting to his feet, he considered something else.

"Fuck. ID. Oh, right, you got one. Lemme see?" He wanted to compare it to his own false bit of plastic.

Echo: Why would he need to dance in the bathroom? She squinted at him, but the question drifted off her mind the second he asked for her ID.

“Mm.”

She slid off the bed and padded to the chair where she’d dropped her coat. Her wallet was barely a wallet just a flat, soft fold with a couple bill pockets and the little laminated ID she’d made, shaped after his.

Her face was on it. Her name: just Echo. No last name. No address. No expiration. No birthdate.

Sedona: Sedona tilted his head, staring in confusion at her ID, only to laugh after a beat.

"How the fuck you get into Embers with this?"

Echo: "What?”

She blinked at him, snatching the ID back like it had just insulted her.

“What? It’s got my face on it.”

A glance down. A glance back up.

“Look—” she jabbed a finger at the photo, “I smiled. And they let me in. That’s called charisma."

Sedona: How was she insulted?! He should be insulted with security. He worked with them - at least on paper, for fuck's sake. January would have their heads, quite literally.

"Look," he offered his own for comparison. "You gotta fill in all these bits."

Echo: She took his card and turned it over, then flipped hers to compare. A beat. Then:

“Oh.”

She frowned thoughtfully.

“…Actually, I think I got in as a mouse.”

She squinted at the edges of her ID like it might confirm that, then gave a little shrug. With a flicker of will, she pulled from her pool of quintessence and began coaxing it into the card. The first thing to appear was a birthdate. February 28th. No year.

She peered up at him.

“…What should I put?”

Sedona: Sedona wanted to lean in closer for a better look at her magic, but did the opposite for her comfort. Her spells had enchanted him since night one. Comparable to the sensation of soda fizz on his skin. Harmless, but active.

"Babygirl, you could be nineteen or twenty-seven." He suddenly grinned. "You wanna be younger or older than me?"

Echo: She felt the lean-in that never came, but she shifted closer anyway, shoulder brushing his chest as she angled the ID for him to see. The spell pulsed faintly beneath her fingertips, threads of illusion stitched tight to the laminate.

She hesitated at his question, a faint crease between her brows. Younger or older? Did it matter? Only if it mattered to him.

“What’s yours say?” she asked instead, glancing up with that tilt of her head. “I wanna match. Kind of.”

She looked at her picture again.

“A little younger.”

Sedona: He didn't mind either way. One was a little more humorous. He often wondered if she was actually older than him - if time truly moved differently in her home world.

"I think mine says twenty-four." It wasn't a stretch. According to the scars on his wrists, he was 19. His father might have skipped a year, or he might have healed well before the massacre, he couldn't say. Either way, the face he saw in the mirror was ambiguous. Older like photographs of yearbook seniors of a bygone era compared to the smooth faces of today.

"Let's say... twenty-two."

Echo: She looked between the picture and him, a smirk curling her lips. Maybe she’d caught the whisper of his thought, or maybe she just sensed the irony in it—either way, her fingers flicked over the date and adjusted it.

The ID now read: 22.

"You’re like an old man, right?" she teased, casting him a playful glance. She realized, then, she didn’t actually know his real age.

With a hum, she moved on to the address. Then paused at the height field. A small, mischievous spark lit in her eyes as she bumped herself up just an inch.

"There?"

Sedona: He took the card from her and held it up to the light, as if it might reveal something secret. He closed one eye and tilted his head, humming thoughtfully.

"Mm, I think this'll hold up. Wear heels and no one'll know the difference," he winked.

Echo: "Ah!"

She stretched up on her toes, fingers swiping at the ID just out of reach.

"Rude, not everyone is a giant, you overgrown beanstalk!"

Sedona: That had him grinning from ear to ear. "You know, I'm taller than my pop, too. Maybe he wasn't even my pop. I could look over his head." He motioned his fingers over Echo's - for reference.

Echo: She squinted up at him, nose wrinkling as his fingers hovered overhead. She leaned up to try and nip at those hovering digits.

"Mm, were you the tallest in your family?"

Sedona: "Yeah. I had an uncle about my height. My big brother. We were the big three. What about - uh..." Was it alright to ask about her family when that life had been so brief? He wasn't one to hesitate like this.

"It ok to ask?"

Echo: Echo tilted her head at his hesitation, and it took her a minute to realize why.

“About mine?” she smiled and gave a slight nod. “There isn’t much from what I’ve already told you, but I can tell you about the group of adventurers I was with. They were like my family.”

Sedona: "That won't make you cry?"

Echo: "Maybe..." She looked away for a moment. "But it's okay."

Sedona: "It ain't, but, you can, you know. Like, that safe space shit people talk about." He gestured around their little bubble. "Safe safe."

Echo: The little mouse was quiet, just looking at him like he handed her something delicate. She’d always felt safe with him, but hearing him say it out loud…

“Safe,” she echoed softly, her fingers absently curling in the fabric of his shirt.

A beat passed, and then she added, “Well, the group was made up of my mistress, Lucy, Cairn, and Rhogar.” She tapped her fingers lightly against his chest as she counted them. “A drow, a… porcelain lady, a human, and a dragonborn.”

Sedona: What had he done? He hadn't realized he'd handed her anything out of the ordinary. These offerings were instinctual and tailored just to her.

"Everyone be out here with fancy names. Ain't no more Tim and Jimmy up in this shit."

He kissed her cheek and set out for the bathroom, expecting she would follow. Only to look back at her with an old-man wrinkled brow.

"A what lady?"

Echo: “And Sedona is better?”

Echo gave him a look, brow arching skeptically, but it crumbled quickly into soft giggles. She was already following after him, but paused at his question, tilting her head as if he were the one being strange.

“A porcelain lady?” she repeated, like it was the most natural thing in the world. “She…was alive.” That might’ve needed clarification. She tucked a bit of hair behind her ear, thoughtful.

“Faerûn’s weird,” she started. “Animals talk. There are automatons with hearts. My mistress had a crossbow named Nettle and it talked…It was mean.”

She grinned at the memory, then looked at him, expression softening. “I know it sounds crazy. But I wish you could see it. Just once.”

Sedona: "Well, I fuckin' hope you guys weren't carrying a corpse in your backpack or some shit."

The bathroom door was opened, locking automatically behind them as it closed. Intent on listening to her story, he leaned his back against the wall by the towels, arms loose at his sides.

"Maybe just once. I don't need no crossbow talkin' shit. It's probably seen too much."

But, after only just a moment of reflection, he squinted.

"The fuck did y'all eat if the animals talked? Or did no one give a shit about that? Like, 'Bye, Todd,'" he choked out an invisible Todd.

Echo: “Technically, I think it was cursed,” she admitted with a little shrug. The crossbow, that is.

“Oh! Uh—no, Lucy was normal human-sized. Taller than me. She’s got sisters, too. Lacy, Macy, Kacy, Tucy aaand…” Echo ticked them off on her fingers, only to pause mid-naming with a vague squint. “Lucky!" She nodded, "All porcelain dolls like her, though."

Her explanation stumbled to a halt when Sed did...that to poor Todd.

She blinked. And then snorted. A hand flew up to cover her mouth, eyes watering as laughter shook her slim shoulders.

“N-no! People don’t eat those! They’re humanoid!”

Another giggle bubbled up, and she turned half away like she needed a second to recover.

"You would eat Todd, wouldn't you?!"

Sedona: "Fuckin'... almost had as many sibs as me."

But then, a realization hit him. A story his aunt had told the children in secret - a story his father wouldn't have approved of. He threw his head back against the wall and laughed.

"Wait, wait, was this like... Was this like, fuckin', Gepetto and like, he wished really hard for a kid and got a bunch of em?"

He started to shake his head at her question, then laughed again. "Only humanoid I wanna eat is you, between your legs."

Echo: Echo blinked as she looked up at the immortal and smiled as she considered the analogy. In a way… yes. That was right.

“Mm. Through divine magic, they came to life, but there were different iterations before Lucy. She was the most advanced,” she explained, her voice soft with fondness. “Each sister had her own personality. They’re still in Sidra'Val… along with Erosa.” Her gaze drifted briefly. She hoped they still were.

When her eyes found his again, she caught the look he gave her and promptly flushed. Those pale cheeks turned pink, and she dropped her gaze with a sheepish smile after playfully smacking his chest. She had long accepted that he was bold, impossibly so, but it didn’t stop the way her heart still fluttered when he spoke like that.

“Do you…really? Is that why I’m in here with you?”

Sedona: The muscles of his face softened as she continued in her gentle manner. It was easy to see her nostalgia, as was the case any time her past was brought up. He wondered why she was here, if she wanted to be. If he was the best of a bad situation.

Her smack felt like nothing, as they both knew it would. He took her hand and squeezed, just so.

"Nah. I mean if you want, but nah. Was gonna shower and wanted to keep talkin'. You wanna keep talkin'?"

Echo: Her fingers curled into his without hesitation, her thumb brushing idly along his knuckles.

“Always,” she said. “I like talking to you.”

She peeked up at him with a small smile, but her expression flickered at the thought he might believe he wasn’t enough. That maybe she was here out of necessity. So she lifted his hand to her cheek, holding it there before giving the inside of his palm a soft kiss.

“I’m here because of you.”

Those big blue eyes blinked up at him before she let his hand slip free and turned lightly on her heel to face the door, granting him privacy.

A beat.

“…Wait, what were we doing again?”

She had the attention span of a mouse.

Sedona: He couldn't feel pain, but there was pleasure in the touch of her lips to his skin.

"I didn't say nothin'." Would he ever grow accustomed to that? To never think twice about her hearing what he thought was a private fleeting thought.

Well, either way, he was stripping out of the few clothes he was wearing, letting them fall to the floor as a discarded second skin.

He looked over his shoulder at her as he turned on the water, forgetting to adjust, it was cold as ice.

"We're gonna shower - I'm gonna shower - and we're goin' to get you all the tattoos. You don't want em no more?"

Echo: Echo didn’t always mean to overhear his thoughts, truly. But some of them reached her like ripples through still water, too clear to ignore. She was tethered to him in a way that made her attuned, drawn to anticipate and meet his every need, so she thought in her role as his familiar.

A little hum left her as she turned just enough to peek.

“I do want them,” she murmured, gaze lingering on him before looking at the little rose inked on her hand. She touched it like it might bloom under her fingers.

“But we… that’s different.”

Her smile widened as she caught the edge of her shirt and pulled it over her head, content to shed layers. Shorts followed, and sneakers were kicked off as she stepped toward the water.

“But—hey—” she pointed a finger at him as she eased a foot in, only for the freezing spray to catch her square in the side.

“Ack!” She squeaked and stumbled back out, hugging herself.

Sedona: "Hey is for horses," was the dumbest joke he had ever stolen, but any further teasing was halted when she squeaked. His head, thrown back in laughter, smacked loudly on the title wall.

"Ah, babygirl, my bad. My b." The second knob was adjusted - such old fashioned plumbing. How many days and nights had he showered in water as cold as the Atlantic? Too many to count.

"You ok?" What did that feel like?

Echo: The cold had stolen her breath, but it was the sharp thunk of his skull against tile that made her wince.

“You’re asking me if I’m okay?” she huffed softly.

She stepped in fully, water be damned, her concern overriding the instinct to recoil. Her arms unwound from her body as she reached up gently, fingers threading through his hair to inspect the spot he’d struck. She cradled the back of his head like he was fragile despite knowing better, thumbs brushing gently along his scalp.

“I’m okay.”

Sedona: What she sought, moisture woven into the strands of hair, pinkened her pale fingertips. He hadn't noticed, nor had the ugly gray wall.

His arms were around her ribs, drawing her in as a means to keep her warm. An apology for the unintended ice bucket challenge.

"Yeah?" He leaned in, nuzzling her cheek.

Echo: The little mouse frowned, her finger stained momentarily with his blood before the water washed it away. She looked up when warm arms wrapped around her, causing her to take a few steps forward as her hands slid up against his chest.

“Mhm,” she hummed, lifting her face to greet his nuzzle, eyes closing.

Sedona: "I'm ok," he felt compelled to remind. "It's already healed." That look in her eyes said what she didn't have to.

Echo: "I know, I'm still getting used to it." After so long having to worry about party members, she couldn't shake off the habit. She didn't think she ever could with him.

So the little mouse rested her forehead against his chest, enjoying the warm water that washed over them.

Sedona: His fingers eventually made their way to her head. Combed through with the water as the only brush she would ever need. His mind drifted as they stood beneath the tepid spray. The sound of engines and wind whistling between windows; the sound of his mother's voice; an argument with his sister over a verse in the Bible.

A bout of silence followed the thought of Echo's face, her voice now filling the emptiness. Her squeaks in one form, her laughter in the other.

"Ya know, ya should stab me," he laughed. "What's it called... desensitized? Desenssssitizing."

Echo: Echo leaned into his touch, the soft drag of fingers through damp strands lulling her eyes shut. How long had it been since she had cut her hair that one night he had found her? Had it really gotten rid of the weight that it carried? She would have considered it more if not for the sudden suggestion.

One bright blue eye cracked open, squinting up at him like she hadn’t heard right.

“…No!” Followed by a gentle slap to his chest. “Bad!”

She turned away with a huff, reaching for the soap.

“I’m not stabbing you on purpose,” she sniffed, half-pouting as she lathered her arms. Even imagining it felt gut wrenching.

Sedona: "See? See, that don't hurt none. Don't hurt at all. A stab ain't gonna hurt none, either. Just sayin'. Ya know, I think you'll feel better if ya do."

His arms were around her waist as soon as she turned. He rather enjoyed sharing a shower with her. He imagined holding her felt no different than a child holding their favorite doll, the one that made them feel loved and comforted. He wanted to squeeze, but worried he might squeeze too hard.

Echo: Echo let the silence settle between them. One of her hands, slick with soap, lifted to gently cradle his face, thumb brushing along his cheekbone. Silly immortal.

“Squeeze, I won’t break,” she smiled gently, tilting her head back to look up at him. But her smile wavered slightly at the mention of stabbing him, her hand slowly sliding down to rest over his, guiding it up until it settled above her heart.

“I…” she took a deep breath and slowly exhaled as her slim shoulders gently pushed back into his chest. Her fingers rubbed at the back of his hand.

“I don’t think I’d feel better. I think I’d cry,” she confessed softly. “Even if it didn’t hurt you, the act would still hurt me. Because I’m yours, and…I love you.”

She turned her head just enough to nuzzle his jaw.

Sedona: "Neither will I." It was her mention, after all, and just for that, he squeezed. Lightly, of course. A measure of strength one could weigh with scales.

Slowly, he swayed one way and then the other, letting the spray move across her chest.

"Love you, babygirl." He didn't have to think about it, and she would feel that. He knew she would.

"I, ya know, just don't want ya to be afraid. I'm gonna get stabbed, smacked around, gonna bleed. I've lost fingers, an arm. Teeth. It's gonna happen and I don't wanna see you cry thinkin' I'm actually hurt. That ain't hurt." He shook his head. "Mm-mm. That ain't hurt."

Echo: She stared ahead past the water that warmed them, considering his words. The squeeze coaxed a small smile from her, as did the gentle sway from side to side. Her head leaned back against his shoulder, and she exhaled slowly.

“I know, and like a lizard, you grow back. I understand that.”

She turned in his arms then, arms wrapping lightly around his neck as she stood on her toes to press her forehead to his.

She had meant more specifically hurting him on purpose, but instead of sharing that, what he said raised a different question. It was a more sensitive question, one she wasn’t sure if she could ask. ‘What’s hurt you to say that?’

Sedona: "Ya found me out. I'm really a lizard all along. I'm in human form until I find my tail." Or something. Sounded like a plausible story from her universe.

His hands met just shy of her ass, fingers laced together as she offered affection.

Did he want to answer her? He could pretend he hasn't heard the question floating in between her ears, but he had, and he knew that she knew.

"Ya don't... want that, baby. I don't see how ya could."

Echo: Her eyes crinkled as a grin tugged at the corner of her lips.

“Is that what I call you now? Geckoman?” A beat passed. “No…Geico.”

A snort escaped her, muffled only slightly as she pressed her face briefly into his shoulder, her laughter soft.

And as quickly as her thoughts drifted, he read them and for a second there was hesitation she felt. Looking into his eyes, they both recognized the moment, her question, and the silence that followed it.

Her gaze dropped to the floor of the shower, then back up as her fingers smoothed along the curve of his neck.

“To know you,” she finally replied. “Not just the parts that smile when I’m around.”

Sedona: He had to think about that, and truth be told, even to himself, he hated thinking. He hated considering. He hated memories as much as he loved them. Thinking about work was different. It was easy to watch the ins and outs of a stranger with days, minutes, seconds to live. As impersonal as crossing the street and bumping shoulders with a complete stranger.

"Ya want me to give you a... bloody memory? What if it gets stuck in your head? What if it gives ya nightmares? I know ya don't care what I do, like what I do for a livin', it's just... it's different."

Echo: Her eyes softened as she looked up at him, and her fingers brushed gently along his jaw, searching his mismatched eyes.

“Not now,” she settled, lowering back down to her heels. “But whenever you’re ready, if you want to share.”

Her hand rested against his chest as she would let the conversation go. She had heard it in his voice, the hesitation of sharing a memory with her. Be it too gory or too private, it nether stood here nor there. She wanted to know and help carry it, but she wouldn’t ask him to bleed just for her sake.

Sedona: "Hey." His hands slid up her back, over her shoulders, reaching her jaw, which he cupped.

"I mean it. Would it give ya nightmares? Does anything?"

Echo: Soft blue eyes looked up at the immortal, caught in his hold. Would she get nightmares from a shared memory? She sifted through what haunted her most, and like a wisp in the dark, her old mistress’s name floated to the surface.

She leaned into the touch, her own hands curling loosely around his wrists.

“I’m not sure,” she answered honestly. "But I'll be fine, promise," she tried to reassure him qith a squeeze.

Sedona: A name... but he hadn't caught it. He could hazard a guess, and it would bring him to the same place. Why was that name a ghost to her? Is that what he would become, he wondered?

"Not gonna make ya promise." He wouldn't hold it against her if she retreated from the memory and recoiled from his touch.

Slowly, he sucked in a breath through his teeth, closed his eyes, and pressed his forehead to hers. For a time, only the running water filled the silence in the bathroom.

The sound of his father's voice. The feeling of hands on his arms. Writhing and sinking against their collective grasp. He had tried everything; digging his heels into the soft grass, falling with dead weight to knock them from their legs. It wasn't enough to overpower two fully grown men with rough hands and misplaced loyalty. It only took his father's strength to drag his mother by her wrist. Her eyes were already beginning to swell as they were dragged from the side of the road back to the encampment. The youngest children kicked and pushed at the adults, ignored.

Sedona: "Fucking deceiver! All these years, a witch! A witch in our circle! Tainting our children, poisoning their ears! He's not my son, is he? You've slept with serpents! You are one! I've fed you, clothed you, blessed you. And you. You. I'll give you rapture."

That nasally fried voice was forever burned in Sedona's memory. Every sermon, every chide, every criticism, every praise, but it was only his mother he saw. Only his mother's wheezing he had consciously heard. Only his mother, whom he begged for.

He had been tied to a tree. Arms spread wide as if for embrace. Sweat and tears that should have stung his eyes blurred his vision. His mother, mere feet away, hung upside down by her feet, hands tied behind her back. There was nothing he could do but watch his mother breathe like a fish out of water. He loved her; he told her he loved her, but there was no way to know if she could hear him. Eventually her eyes closed, and eventually, she stopped moving. Arman Genn, the man he had called father for 19 years, only saw fit to cut her down after her body had defecated.

Sedona: "That's pain," Sedona whispered.

Echo: Her hands lifted to cradle his face, her eyes closing as she gently swayed under his touch.

She saw it, felt it, not as an outsider, but as if she'd lived it inside his skin. Panic curling in her ribs as she watched helplessly as the scene unfolded. Rage like fire burned in her lungs as she watched that beautiful woman get hung by her feet.

Her heart race and her breath caught as fingers gently pressed just a little firmer against him. She didn’t speak at first, instead she breathed with him. Letting his pain move through her until the worst of it passed. Her thumb swept through strands of damp hair near his temple, brushing it back.

Her cheeks were damp, not from the shower but from grief.

“I’m sorry,” she whispered.

“I’m so sorry.”

Sedona: She hadn't winced, hadn't gagged on her bile. The lack of reaction had taken him aback.

And then she squeezed, and he realized the pulse beneath his fingers had quickened.

He breathed deeply, and so did she. Was she in his heart and lungs as she was in his mind?

"Babygirl... " He looked her over. Tried parting her hair from her eyes. "...What am I supposed to do? Like... so ya don't cry?"

Echo: Because of their bond, they were entwined and she had felt the pain he had gone through. The tears still came, warm trails catching at her cheeks, but she didn’t sob. The back of her hand rose to wipe them away, before she lifted her eyes to meet his.

“I’m okay,” she whispered, her voice small. And when she saw the look in his eyes, she whispered it again in an attempts to convince him, “I’m okay.”

Her fingers caught his, lacing them together, “We should go get a tattoo.”

Sedona: "I think that's why we be showerin'," he tried to smile. He had made her cry. With her permission, yes, but that didn't change the feeling in his stomach. He didn't know pain, but he knew the cramping in his stomach when it wanted to expel his breakfast.

"You gonna be showin' me your worst? I wanna see."

Echo: Damp strands of white clung to her cheeks as she nodded. She hadn’t expected the shower to soften into something this raw with threads of pain woven between tenderness.

His question made her heart ache a little.

A hand gently moved to rest over his heart as she traced the shape of the muscles beneath her fingers.

“I can, but why do you want to see it?”

Sedona: There was no denying that he felt the same. They were usually feathers. He trusted they would lift off again. They had a knack for that.

"Why wouldn't I? You got pieces of me. I want your pieces."

Echo: Echo was quiet as she stood with him, thinking. What could she offer that carried the same weight? What tragedy did she have to choose from? And the longer she sat in her memories, the stronger her heart beat.

“Okay…”

A memory seemed to have surfaced.

“It…it’ll look like a movie to you but….but it really did happen.”

She leaned in until their brows met, breath slowing, syncing to his. Her eyes closed as she offered her memory.

They seemed to be transported into another plane, one that was stark and desolate. There was no sky or warmth, only the skeletal remains of a crumbling building surrounded by rotting trees and the jagged edge of a cliff.

Their perspective would be looking outward from the level of her mistress’s breast pocket as they faced a ghoul. The being was wretched, its robes hanging like a damp parchment, grey flesh shriveled and clinging to its bones. But the worst part, the part that still haunted her, was the eye in its chest. It was an unblinking, ancient eye that was focused straight on her.

To her right, a stocky cleric with a handlebar mustache shouted a prayer and held up his holy symbol. To her left, a green-scaled dragonborn hefted his sword, and a blue-robed porcelain woman cracked with golden seams stood there. Finally looking up, was a drow woman with silver-white hair, messy and unkempt, black goggles perched on her forehead, grimacing at the creature. That was Niz.

They were tired and wounded, blood staining their clothes and skin. Echo could feel her mistress’s magic waning.

“Shoot the fucking guy before we die!” a gruff voice shouted. It took a moment to realize it came from the crossbow itself, a wooden contraption with a dwarf brass face carved into its frame.

Echo: “Shut up, Nettle,” snapped the druid. “Let me concentrate.”

But before she could shoot off a bolt, the monster slammed its staff into the ground, and a ripple of purple energy blasted through the air. All around her, suddenly, all the party members fell to their knees with various cries.

From behind, a white dragonling leapt into view. He roared as he exhaled frost toward the enemy, only to be frozen mid-attack, suspended in the air.

Echo’s heart pounded. Her mistress was paralyzed as were the rest of the party. She watched Vecna, yes…Vecna, drift forward, hand outstretched, black tendrils seeping into the dragonling’s side.

“EROSA!” Niz creamed.

The dragon collapsed, his eyes rolling back into his skull.

Echo. Hide. Leave me and hide.

The command came, but the little mouse was frozen with fear.

ECHO, GO!

The second shout startled the familiar, as she looked at Niz. She scurried out of the dark folds of clothes and ran without looking back.

The screams of Niz, her friends, of her family, chased her down a stone hall. Her tiny heart thudded in her chest as the tears soaked her fur.

She didn’t know if the lich had seen her. She didn’t know if he cared.

But she fled, and wasn’t sure if her family was still alive.

Back in the shower, Echo’s shoulders shook. Her nails gently dug against his chest.

“I ran,” she whispered.

Her white hair clung to her face.

“I…I didn’t know what else to do.”

Sedona: “Bet mine did, too,” he muttered. He had assumed she meant first-person perspective. It hadn’t occurred to him that her warning included magic. She was right, it looked like something off the shelf of a Blockbuster – too old-fashioned – like something out of a pirated high-fantasy film. Mere seconds of observing his surroundings, the building that didn’t belong to modern times, the clothes, the creature. He could swear he smelled its dry bones, the blood of her companions, and soil beneath them.

He didn’t know any of these people. Might as well have been characters in one of his books, or cosplay, or that Blockbuster without a name – but he recognized the one called Niz from Echo’s descriptions, few though they were. This had been her most important person. This had been her life. A band of weirdos and a dragon, and one ugly ass creature with a staff. She had lived a life of adrenaline. Was it any wonder he didn’t want her present during his jobs.

His hands rubbed little patterns into her back.

“She told ya to run. I woulda told ya to run. I don’t think she’d be thrilled none of ya didn’t listen. Like my mama, ya know? What would be the point of ya dyin’?”

Echo: “She told me to run, yeah. But you know how it is. You don’t always get to think smart in a moment like that.”

She leaned into the hand on her back, running her hands over her face to wipe at the last of the tears. The worst of it had passed and what clung to her now would settle in silence. He’d asked for a painful memory, and while that day had been the most terrifying of her life, it still wasn’t the one that cut the deepest.

She couldn’t bear to share that one yet, not the day her mistress turned and left her behind.

Maybe another day.

Instead, she lifted her chin and rose to her toes, brushing a soft kiss to the line of his jaw. Better to dwell on the immortal in front of her than hauntings of her past.

“Can you tell when you start getting pruney?”

Sedona: "Nah, ya don't. We weren't given a choice, huh? Some big bad did it for us." He thought about her story - no, her life. She wasn't some character in a book, and as fantastical as it had appeared, what had happened to her wasn't a Hollywood film.

"What were ya doin' there? Treasure huntin'?"

He looked down at his hands, showing her the pads of his fingers. Still human in every other way. They had begun to wrinkle.

"Texture, I guess. I just look."

Echo: “Stopping that thing from trying to destroy these anchors.” She was struggling to remember. “They were holding back something that was called the ‘Endless Hunger’.” Or something like that.

Echo took his hands, turning them gently in hers, thumbs smoothing over the faint pruney texture with a faint, lopsided smile.

“We probably should get out then.”

Sedona: "Should," he smirked. He couldn't wrap his mind around what she was talking about, but if he insisted, he knew she would try to show him, and he knew that meant the possibility of more tears. He would rather push the subject forward.

"You want piercings, too?"

Echo: “Piercings?”

She hadn’t thought about them.

“What do you think I should get pierced?”

Sedona: "I dunno. Don't women like their ears pierced? Get some fancy gems hangin' off?" he grinned. "Diamonds in like, itty bitty swords."

Echo: "Sure, I can get my ears pierced..." Her hand went up to her ears, running her finger over her earlobe.

Piercings and a tattoo, it was going to be an unexpectedly adventurous day for the little familiar.

Sedona: For a moment, he considered her, glanced at her fingers as he turned off the water. Her towel was wrapped around her shoulders first.

"Do you want your ears pierced? I ain't givin' a command."

Echo: Echo reached up to use the towel and dry her hair followed by the rest of her before wrapping it around her frame.

"I like the idea of having earrings. Besides, you can't have them, so I can be your model."

Sedona: Somehow she wound the subject back to him. It was a talent. A gift.

"They can change with you, you think? Like your clothes when you mouse?"

Echo: “I think so. We can find out,” she said, glancing up.

Already, her mind had wandered toward what she might wear for their outing. Her fingers trailed along her wrist before she turned it up for him to see.

“I used to wear a yellow ribbon around my neck,” she said, brushing a thumb over the small tattoo of it now etched into her skin. “My mistress had gotten it from some shopkeep who said it was enchanted to make the wearer’s smile beautiful.”

The familiar smiled gently before she shook her head as if dismissing the thought, “So, of course she put it on me.”

She let her hand fall away to her side as she continued her thought, “All that to say, I can try to enchant them if they give me any issues, but it should be fine, like my clothes.”

Sedona: "But you're smile's already beautiful." He wanted to be offended on her behalf, but that probably - probably - wasn't the intention of her former mistress. "She shoulda put it on a gnome or, what y'all got out there, goblins? A Nosferatu-lookin' fucker that needs it."

His fingers accompanied her fingers at her neck, feeling at the tattoo as if he expected it to be raised. Every time, and the answer hadn't changed.

Echo: “I didn’t have this form before!” she countered. Besides, how charming was a mouse really if it smiled at you? The thought made her smirk before she leaned into his touch, shifting enough to rest her cheek in the palm of his hand.

“I liked it and was sad when I thought I lost it crossing over.”

Magic had a funny way of working here.

Sedona: "So, this is that ribbon, for real?" The more he learned about magic, the more fascinating it became. Miracles, they were. He wondered if it was because of the ribbon that she stood on two human legs.

"You wanna meet more people with magic?"

Echo: “Mm!” She wasn’t sure how its properties worked here, or if it did at all but that was something to explore later.

The familiar was ready to scurry out of the bathroom back to their little modest room, but the next question stalled her. One foot forward, one back and her smile faltered.

“I…”

She had been so cautious to even approach Sedona, that being offered to meet other people with magic made the little mouse feel a certain way.

“I don’t know,” she finally said with a small shrug. “They might not like my kind of weird.”

She peeked up at him then, “I mean, my magic is different…”

And what if they realize this and tried to send her back?

Sedona: Send her back? That was quite a thought. He wondered where that paranoia came from. Had to be from something. Losing her mistress? Losing him? What about the one that has kept her before, the nameless one in the middle - nameless because he kept forgetting the name.

"Up to you, babydoll. Ain't gonna make you be around anyone you ain't up to. I mean, except Ariel. Way too late to change that."

Getting across the hall was quick work. The doors locked automatically behind them. He let his towel fall carelessly as he scooped up a pair of boxers and jeans.

Echo: “Mm, who were you thinking of introducing me to?”

Like a small white shadow, she drifted to his side, towel still wrapped around her as she shifted through the pieces she called hers. Her fingers paused now and then, weighing the vibe more than the weather.

"He's fine because I got to see him first."

Eventually, she landed on a pale green crop top and white shorts. The heart-shaped sunglasses were non-negotiable as they rested in her hair, and she added her necklace and sneakers to match.

“What do you think?”

Sedona: "Pirates," he grinned. "That and some... I dunno, I guess they're witches. They don't be callin' themselves that. The old guy that runs the place is fuckin' half-blind. Old lady's nice. They got this shop, and like, the shit changes every day. Like you blink and the shelves are in different places. They let me sleep on their couch when I got here."

Pants buttoned, he turned to look her over and smiled some more.

"Perfect summer beach babe."

Echo: Her head tilted as she mulled over the thought of meeting the maybe-witches and their shifting shop. It did sound like something worth poking her nose into. Hm. Curiosity got the best of her.

“Okay… maybe,” she decided at last, filing it away for later. For now, there was a tattoo parlor waiting for them.

Complimented by the immortal made the familiar’s smile brighten, enough to make her bounce lightly up onto her toes before settling back down again.

“Mm, then we go?”

Sedona: He had a feeling that introducing her to Jesse and Thomas would be with her in his shirt pocket, or underneath his bucket hat. Either way, he didn't care. Mouse or human, she was Echo, and they wouldn't have shit to say about it.

An old sleeveless and loud Aloha button-down was slipped into in a matter of seconds. Unbuttoned, of course. This wasn't another fancy date in a bougie restaurant.

They looked more suited for Coney Island than the outskirts of Manhattan, and heading out the door, he took her hand and swung them.

"We're wavin' down a cab. I dunno where this shit is."

And it would give him time to look at her magicked ID one last time. If any little thing looked out of place, they'd be standing with regular ass humans looking awkward.

Echo: The addition of the button-down made her grin. She loved those on him, they always looked like the kind of shirt that belonged on someone she liked seeing happy. Plus, they always had a pocket for her if she needed it.

Her fingers slipped easily into his, letting him swing their hands as they stepped into the street, the early sun spilling warm light over them. Mornings were her favorite, everything felt new and fresh. And today? Today she was going to get a tattoo. Maybe they could grab something to eat afterward…

Sliding her heart-shaped glasses into place, she peeked up at her immortal and nodded toward him as he studied her ID.

“So why don’t you just use your phone? Or… Uber?” she asked, voice soft but teasing. Then she tilted her head, thinking that a barcode that read ABC123 was very normal.

Sedona: "Everywhere be askin' for ID in this world, baby. Used to not be that way. Someone, that old lady with the pawn shop, she said I was born in the wrong era. Maybe I wasn't. Maybe I outlived it, ya know? How the fuck old am I? Well, maybe not that old, but like, I wasn't - I didn't have one before. Wasn't that big'a deal."

There was something about her — her questions, her curiosity — that made him feel inclined to say more than empty platitudes and shallow jokes. Was that the flavor of responsibility? It was bland on his tongue. Maybe the more he tried, the better the taste.

"What's this?" he pointed at her alphabet buffoonery.

Echo: “The barcode?” She said peering over at what he pointed at.

She didn’t understand what might possibly be wrong with it. To a mouse, IDs were nonsense anyway, it was a picture with a few numbers and then letters strung together. At least she’d gotten her age and address right.

“Mm, you act pretty old,” she hummed, beaming up at him. On her toes, she pressed a quick kiss to his cheek before settling back down on her heels. Her gaze drifted back to the street. With her free hand, she lifted a wave just as a cab slowed to the curb. Sliding the conversation back, she flicked her eyes up at him.

“Do I need to change it?”

Sedona: "Yeah. I mean, I don't think that part matters to a tattooist, but someone else, who fuckin' knows."

It sounded like he needed to call in a favor, give her a properly forged piece of plastic. Or maybe not. If this were the only instance she would ever need it - and the nightclub. He could have her on the VIP list, but that required introducing her to January Dune. He had a feeling she wouldn't be interested.

But he passed the thought to her while slipping into the back of the cab.

Echo: The cab smelled faintly of smoke and cheap cologne, the seats sagging from the many passengers it had seen. Echo scooted in, belt snapping shut across her small frame before she settled, folding her hands over her lap. Her gaze lifted at the thought about meeting the vampire that essentially ran the city.

A dark brow quirked at the offer, her head gently tilting, though the question from the driver cut in before she could answer. The familiar looked toward Sedona instead, since she didn't have a clue where they were going.

She looked down at her short, manicured nails, thumbs brushing over them as she finally replied once the car started moving.

‘What is she like?’

Sedona: Sedona pulled out his phone, rattling off the address Ariel had texted him. He remained facing forward as her voice filled his ears - not his ears, he knew this, and still he couldn't differentiate.

He had almost spoken out loud, clearing his throat instead. A smile twitched the side of his mouth.

'She's bougie. She's... like, picture a temptress. Like what you think Aphrodite would be like, that's probably it.'

Echo: The little mouse leaned into the window, eyes tracking the blur of buildings and neon as the cab carried them along. She stayed quiet at first, letting his words sit without seeming to acknowledge them. She was trying to piece together what this mysterious woman was supposed to look like. She had met many characters in her adventures, but was a temptress one of them?

‘Ah…’

A few seconds ticked by, her reflection faint in the glass as she tilted her head.

‘Is she… nice?’

Sedona: He didn't realize when he'd started watching her, but he wondered what she would look like in one of January's long, plunging dresses, covered in jewels and her staple red lipstick. Would it feel like a costume on her? Would she feel pretty? That was all that mattered.

'To her people, sure. Loves her ghoulies. Likes her partners. I don't think she gives a shit about anyone else.'

Echo: While he’d answered her question, the little mouse still wasn’t sure what to make of January. If they ever crossed paths, she supposed she’d find out firsthand. For now, all she could do was nod. From what she’d heard, the woman sounded shallow, but that wasn’t fair to decide yet, not without seeing her for herself. She looked out the taxi window, the sunlight sliding across her reflection.

‘Do you like her?’

Sedona: He didn't know why it mattered. Whether he liked her or not, she was the majority of his security in this city. He could survive without her should he have to, but he didn't have to.

'I get her. We're the same in a lot of ways. It's like askin' if I like myself.'

Echo: Echo tilted her head, studying him quietly as the city blurred by outside. She could understand that. Besides, weren’t her and Niz like that too? So she nodded and looked down at the little drawn rose still faintly inked on her skin.

“What color do you like?”

Sedona: Two contradictory eyes looked at her, his temple pressed to his fist. He followed her gaze and smiled.

"Ain't it gonna be a white tattoo? You want color in between the lines?"

Echo: "I'm not sure. It'll be pretty either way. What do you think?" She liked the idea of a white tattoo, but she wanted some part of him to be represented in it too.

Sedona: "I think it's gotta be somethin' you'll wanna see every day. I dunno if orange and purple are you. What's your favorite? Yellow?"

Echo: She nodded.

“Mm, what if it’s all three colors?” she mused. She’d seen such hues in the fae wilds, and if he couldn’t picture it, she would show him. Reaching out, she took his hand in hers, her slender shoulder brushing gently against his arm. The little mouse closed her eyes and shared a picture of what she was seeing.

Sedona: While she had closed her eyes, Sedona was staring at the worn leather of the seat between them. The stitching holding on for dear life on either end of a tear.

"I don't think it'll be a white tattoo anymore, but it'd be pretty on you." He didn't think anything within her taste would mar her skin.

Echo: “Mm, you’re right. We’ll keep it white.”

She opened her eyes to find him. The soft blue of her gaze caught the morning light as she looked up at him.

“What else do you want to do today?”

Sedona: He often wondered how to describe the shade of blue of her eyes. Though she came close to many shades, none were exactly right. Either he was ignorant, which was likely, or her color shifted when he wasn't paying attention.

"Hm? Oh. Whatever you wanna do. You're the one gettin' tatted up."

'You can heal yourself just fine?'

Echo: For some reason, the way he said “gettin’ tatted up” made the little mouse feel mighty, like she could take on the world. She beamed at him with pride. No thoughts followed only vibes and the hum of agreement as she nodded. She could heal herself, so there was no need to worry!

Sedona: Her smile made him laugh, squeezing his arm around her shoulders, he kissed the top of her head.

"Babygirl. Babydoll. My queen."

Echo: The little mouse melted easily beneath his arm, a soft hum escaping her.

“Your queen?” she giggled, shaking her head. That was too important of a title, she was just Echo.

She peeked up at him, then toward the window. “Are we there?”

Sedona: "We're in Manhattan," but she knew that. "Speed limit is a whoppin' 25 miles, baby. Gonna be a minute." So, he would fill his time kissing her forehead.

Echo: “Is that slow? It feels slow,” she murmured, though the complaint melted quickly when his lips brushed her forehead again.

Sedona: "Definitely slow, baby." He loved that she loved affection. He loved giving it to her. "Could always get out and walk. Even slower, but you can explore."

Echo: He was sunshine, that’s why his color was orange. The world was warmer when his arms were around her or when he kissed and tickled her. And she could feel that sunshine right now.

The little mouse pressed into his side, her fingers tracing little circles over his arm.

“Would…you ever want to see what it’s like to be a mouse?”

Sedona: A glance was given to their driver, mouth twitching. "Bet everything looks 15 stories tall. You take ten thousand steps to go thirty feet."

Her hand was squeezed.

'You can turn me into a mouse?'

Echo: She smiled, not able to argue his point. Everything was bigger when she was a little mouse.

"You can take in all the details at that size!"

‘I can make you into any animal you want. Do you want to?’

Sedona: That would be her most powerful magic. Had to be. What else could she turn into? Could she turn his enemies into snails? Would she eat them, then, with her little mouse teeth? He didn't mind sharing the thought.

'Just a mouse? What about a raccoon? You can ride me. I'll be your noble steed.'

Echo: Echo was sure that eating snails wouldn’t be very vegetarian of her. And that earned a wrinkle of her nose as she quickly shook her head. Ick.

‘I don’t think that would be the weirdest thing New Yorkers will ever see…’

Sedona: 'Nah, but it would be the coolest. They won't see anything else like it. But like, maybe a rat carrying a box of pizza. That shit's for real.' He was giving them away, laughing at nothing in the backseat.

Echo: ‘Oh! I’ve seen that on Instagram!’ she chirped with excitement. By now, it was second nature for the little mouse to talk with the immortal like this, not taking notice of how peculiar they probably looked, giggling and smiling like two goofballs back there.

Sedona: "Fuck," he breathed, head falling back with laughter. "You're one of them online people. You and Ariel are gonna be besties. How the fuck you got Instagram?"

Echo: “He doesn’t like me!”

And as for how she got access to Instagram, she brightly smiled.

“The library.”

Sedona: "The library?" Library mouse. He couldn't unthink it now. What an adorable image. Her little hands pushing and pulling the pages of a giant book made him grin from ear to ear.

"You got his number? He don't hate you. Nah."

Echo: “I said he didn’t like me, not that he hates me!”

Her face was in her hands.

“See…he hates me!”

But she couldn’t keep a straight face; her words dissolving into giggles, shoulders trembling as she tried to compose herself.

Sedona: "Both!" He laughed. "Are you blushin'? Is that a blush? What you thinkin' about? Do I need to be jealous?"

Echo: “What?! No!” She was laughing again as she shook her head.

Sedona: "I think you're sweet on him. I think you liiiiike him!"

Echo: “Ew, no!” She snorted with a hiccupping laugh, hands immediately moving to cover his mouth.

Sedona: "You wanna mar -" His mouth was covered, and she would feel him grinning on the other side. He obeyed the hand, nuzzling in with laughter.

Echo: “I do not!” That was too close to a squeak and earned a raised eyebrow from their driver, causing the little mouse to settle down.

“I do not,” she whispered and gently pinched the immortal’s nose.

Sedona: A raised eyebrow from the driver and a snort from her immortal. Just a few blocks to go. He would fill the time wisely, planting noisy kisses against her neck. No, of course Ariel didn't hate her. And no, he had nothing to worry about. Making her squeak was the highlight of his day.

Echo: Her laughter spilled out in a flurry of squeaks as she wriggled beneath his assault, palms pressed to his chest in half-hearted defense.

“S-S-Sed!” she squealed between giggles, trying to twist away but the effort only made it worse and each kiss earned another helpless laugh.

When the cab finally rolled to a stop, she made her escape, fumbling for the handle behind her back. The door popped open, and she practically tumbled out onto the curb, hair mused and her cheeks pink.

“Freedom!”

Sedona: One of the few people left in New York City to offer cash, but the tip was generous for keeping his mouth shut. Now, if only he could keep that man on speed dial. Had he been alone, he would have stuck his head in the window and made a proposition. Silent people were as valuable as a knife.

But they had things to do. They had a parlor to find, and he had a hand to hold.

"You nervous?" Time to swing their hands.

Echo: The little mouse popped up, waiting for her immortal with her hands clasped behind her back, gently rocking on her heels. She would have been patient if he wanted to speak to the cabby. But at the sight of the extended hand made her automatically reach for it.

“A little, but…you don’t have to stay if you have things to do.”

Sedona: "You think I'm gonna just leave you alone with strangers in Manhattan?" He was shaking his head at her audacity, still swinging their hands despite his scolding. "You done lost your mind. Not leavin' you alone for your first real tattoo."

Echo: “I’m so strong though!” argued the familiar with a bright smile. She was convinced that she could take on anyone and everyone in this city. “And I’m so fast, too!”

But a part of her was happy that her immortal would stay with her.

“Mm, fine, but we’re doing something you want after. Deal?”

Sedona: "Yeah, you can take on Godzilla, but I don't wanna leave you alone. How often were you, like, alone? Out there, before?" How often was she away from her previous master? Did they like each other? Was it love, as they loved each other?

"Whatever I want, however I want it. Deal."

Echo: “Uh… with the vampire I was stayin’ with?” she started, nose scrunching as she thought it through. “All the time.”

He’d been kind enough, gave her a place to sleep, didn’t mind her coming and going as she pleased. They weren’t close exactly, but he was still a friend.

“But with Niz?” she smiled a little brighter now. “I lived in her pocket most days, so I was always with her.” She looked ahead as they walked down the sidewalk. “She liked havin’ me close. Said I was her lucky charm.”

Sedona: She did like pockets. He would wear jackets in the summer just for her. She was going to tear holes in his shirts; it would be hilarious.

"You're pretty lucky. I'd say, yeah, pretty fuckin' magical."

To ask if Niz was missed would be downright stupid, like asking if he missed his mother. Still, the urge was as strong as the urge to kiss her. She was certain to already know.

"What was wrong with Mr. Orlok?"

Echo: Echo’s fingers curled around his a little tighter as she walked, her shoulder brushing his arm. She tilted her head up, eyes closing briefly as her smile brightened.

“Thank you,” she said, squeezing his hand.

“Delano?” she echoed, head tilting as she sorted through the memories. She stared ahead, watching the sidewalk pass under their feet as she spoke.

“He’s… really sad,” she said softly. “I think that’s why he liked me. I made him feel lighter for a little bit.” She lifted her free hand, absently rubbing the spot above her heart through her shirt.

“He’s been unhappy a very, very long time. I think he’s… tried to end it before.”

Echo’s eyes drifted, watching the reflections in shop windows as they passed.

“He has a wife, but they… don’t get along. At all. They stay together anyway.” Her nose scrunched a little, not in judgement, just confusion.

“I feel sad for him. I wanted to…” she searched for a word, brows furrowing, “…give him that umph, that spark that tells you things can still get better.”

A small sigh left her.

“But when you’ve lived as long as he has… I don’t think he knows what to do with hope anymore.”

Sedona: He wasn't sure what she was thanking him for, and he wasn't going to ask.

For a bit, she said, like her presence was only a temporary relief, before that hedonic treadmill rolled on - depressing.

"I guess she's like him? I dunno about where you're from, but around here, people get used to shit, shitty shit and good shit. Like knowin' your way home in the dark."

Had she wanted to be his familiar? With a spouse, he wondered if that was why she hadn't. Jealousy, or - no, just jealousy. A familiar was an intimate relationship, he'd realized instantly.

"Eh," he shrugged. "We'll see how I turn out."

Echo: Echo’s steps slowed just a little, enough that their swinging hands matched. She wasn’t looking at the sidewalk anymore.

“They fought… a lot,” she repeated gently. "Sometimes I’d come back and the whole place was wrecked.”

Her fingers tightened around his.

“I don’t… understand loving someone like that,” she admitted, a small frown knitting her brows. “Hurting each other until you forget why you stayed at all.”

But then his thoughts drifted and she felt them.

"No, I didn’t feel that connection with him. He was sad and it looked like he needed a friend.”

She nudged him.

"But you... you felt different the moment I met you. You still do.”

Sedona: Her words were a time machine, pushing the crashing sound of glass and flipped tables in his ears. Christ Almighty, he hadn't thought about that in so long he had forgotten entirely. A lot of bullshit from his father lingered, but the random fights for the sake of fighting had easily blended together as one conclusion: his father had been a prick since birth.

"The good moments are good, and some people take 'till death do us part' literally. I mean, it's in the vows, you know? And people just say shit to say it. It's all meaningless."

It wasn't to say - but that didn't include Echo. But then again, their bond was more than mere words. It was tangible.

"I'm not lonely." But wasn't that her purpose? Why she had followed him for days? Why she had decided of all the men in New York City, he was her chosen favorite?

"What's loneliness feel like?" Because... maybe there was a chance that he was. The sensation had never been explained to him before. Not as obvious as fear or anger; as strange and multifaceted as happiness.

Echo: Echo’s head tilted, listening. She caught the little threads of memories whispering to her, but she didn’t chase. They felt like delicate, private things, the type she would see if he decided to revisit them with her. Her hand flexed in his, offering a gentle squeeze instead.

His question made her look up at him and their foot of height difference. She blinked once, and then again, thinking.

“Not lonely like… needing people,” she said softly.

She shifted closer, her shoulder brushing his arm as her voice grew gentler.

“But lonely in the… family way.” Her brows pinched a little, like the concept sat heavy in her chest. “You had so many brothers, sisters… your mother… your aunts and uncles.” The words came slowly. “And it feels like losing that left a place behind. Not empty, but…” She searched for the right shape.

“It feels like a note,” she said at last. “Beautiful by itself, but missing the other half that makes the sound… full.”

Her thumb brushed once over his knuckles.

“That’s what I feel from you sometimes,” she finished softly. “Just… waiting for your harmony.”

She lifted their joined hands, pressing them lightly against her cheek.

Sedona: A little tension in her fingers told him everything he needed to know, and there it would remain in silence. In the same unspoken spirit, he wrapped his arm around her as she neared, offering his other hand for her to hold. She hadn't misinterpreted anything, but he hadn't sat with the feeling of being perceived long enough to know whether or not he appreciated the feeling.

No one knew him. Not really. Not even Ariel, a man he loved purely for his idiotic naiveté. The man was a walking, talking time capsule of life before July 15, 1991.

"Were they really family, or just a congregation?" The question was too harsh, and he might have felt a hint of guilt, but he was easily distracted by the softness of her cheek. There was nothing to feel shitty about with her around.

"You're the other note. Yeah."

#sedonagenn

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