hellfire.

     he freezes, taking a sharp breath. his eyes already sting from the comment. why would she…?

          “ you–i never tried– ”  he feels a furious blush rise to his cheeks as tears begin to drip from his chin. all it took was that one little sentence and she had him in  p i e c e s .   “ why did you say that? ”  he whispers, voice shaking with barely contained rage and pain.  “W H Y   D I D   Y O U   S A Y   T H A T ? !  ”

           “ BUT YOU SHOULD HAVE! ”  a stomp upon the ground so hard that it pushes his hair, now far shorter, into his burning yellow eyes.  “ it was. YOUR JOB. and you failed! so now i get to prove that she should have let ME do it–just like i was supposed to in the first place! ”

          “ it certainly does help. ”  watts says, going back to his work on the wires laid out before him.

          “ optics glitched after the sparring session last night. hazel hit it too hard. ”  he explains.  “minor problem, but i already need glasses for the  r e a l  one… ”  watts tries to make a joke of it, but the flat tone of his voice is so empty, hollow–he hates that someone caught him without the optic in.

    ‘  - how did it happen?  ‘ 

  the question slips out before she can catch herself - but, as it happens, cinder’s never asked. it matters, but she’d always deemed it too ... rude. 

     she sits next to him, trying to look anywhere but the gaping void     where his eye should be. the eye itself is hardly a better sight, but       he takes pride in this sort of thing, so she does. 

     he sits himself next to her when he has what he needs and hands her a few painkillers and a cup of water before he gets to work cleaning her wound.

          “ what happened? ”  he asks again.  “  c o h e s i v e ,  please. ”

  the pills are downed with hardly a second thought. his touch is   irritating but she fights the urge to flinch away - the wound needs    to be addressed. there’s no way around it. 

   ‘  the boy - arc, that is - he managed to get close. too close.  ‘ her    voice shakes, some of the hoarseness creeping back in. ‘  thrust his     blade at me; i barely managed to dodge the worst of the blow. and ruby - ‘      she pauses again, trying not to shatter the glass within her hand.

          “ sit down, please. ”  watts says softly, finally moving to the cabinet.  “ i’ll assume you want painkillers? ”  he asks, taking a handful of bandages and disinfectant from the shelf.  “ it looks bad. did your aura run out? ”

     where normally he would leap to the medical cabinet, he senses her  a n g e r  and slowly stands.  “ and what on earth happened to you? ” he mutters, frowning at her sorry state.  “ are you even going to allow me to fix it, or are you going to bite if i touch it? ”  he adds with a sour tone.

      the mask comes off mere seconds after she storms into his office. she throws it aside, welcoming the warm flow of sanguine down her cheek as opposed to the rash, blinding heat from within her. 

     it’s not the boy cinder aims for, but tyrian, and he of all people knows exactly  w h y .  he swings his arm upward to hook her sword between the curved blades of his gauntlet, the metal singing as it strains against the force.  “  C I N D E R !  ”  tyrian spits, his tail moving to wrap around her arm in an attempt to try and tug her hands from her weapon.

          “ focus. ”  he hisses, his voice softer but still quite intent.  “ focus! we have a job to do and a fight to win! ”  he looks to her mask, narrows his eyes.  “ i’ll take care of arc. ”

     oh but how he wanted to sink his stinger deep within branwen’s gut, how he wanted to wrap his hands around the bitch’s throat. he has  p a y b a c k  to deal, but cinder is ultimately the leader in this affair. they can’t afford to lose her.

   his voice turns her raging blood cold - and fight takes over. she    pushes against him with all the force of a rushing wave, battling    with his tail wrapped around her arm. don’t touch that, a voice    says, you’ll only make things worse; tyrian stands before her,    fighting her, and she had instigated. 

@combureta​

     the smell of combat is a welcome  p e r f u m e  that invades his senses the moment he steps out of the ship. watts tells him something, report back when you’re done, don’t get killed, i’ll be wherever  –   u   n   i   m   p   o   r   t   a   n   t   .

     he can hear gunfire within the school.

     his gauntlets extend as he scales the wall of the immense building, bootheels and blades and his beautiful new tail digging into the stone to carry him up. he can see the fight through the window.

     leo and a child, one he remembers hazel mentioning in a mission update. the little rose and the emerald, the flame and the forge, winter and spring. he sees hazel throw the valkyrie to the side like a ragdoll, deflect the flower without batting an eye. he sees cinder throw her weapon, sees the arc boy try to shatter her mask.

     tyrian  f l i n g s  himself from the window with a roar, bringing his blade down on top of arc’s. a spin on his heel and the harsh metal end of his tail connects with the boy’s midsection and sends him flying. he turns to cinder with a crazed look of fear.

          “ you–you’re okay, yes? ”  he demands, grabbing her shoulder to pull her up.  “ little b a s t a r d – i saw him hit your mask. ”

   it had all been fine, she had the upper hand, that boy could never    come close to hurting her - but the blood rushes from under her mask    regardless. cinder nearly rips the thing off, eye gone wide with anger,    disbelief, fear; they crawl up inside her, boiling over until she just cannot     keep her calm. rage, rage - 

              how dare he how dare he how dare he -

  she doesn’t recognise tyrian, doesn’t hear him, nor understand that   he is worried and on her side besides. cinder wrenches herself from   his grip, looking about wildly for the boy - the child, the foolish, ignorant   speck who had the mere audacity to raise a hand against her and think    he could win. ( she doesn’t even remember his name. )

   her nails dig into her palm, staining the cloth with sanguine. her teeth    are bared, and she breathes heavily, looking about wildly to find the boy.    he would pay for this - he would pay. 

             only salem would dare come anywhere near the mask. 

     he winces at the touch, his tail curling in on itself.  “ ah–actually i think this might be day three? ”  tyrian sighs.  “ hard to sleep. hurts too much. ”