#bwww

In which Nyx and Paige take the GQ’s Couples Quiz to hard launch their relationship and end all speculation.

Warnings: fluff, “bullying,” two cutie patooties in a relationship.

Author’s Note: perhaps make this into a series? initially it was an x reader fic, but minds have been changed! love you all so so much 🫶🏾 i appreciate the love that i’ve received and new moots!

Since Nyx had her very first taste of the spotlight, she was media trained to not give certain details of her life away because of one thing: you give people an inch and they take a mile. People would learn one thing about her and think they knew everything. Nyx enjoyed the experience, but aimed to maintain privacy.

So, she was very particular. She never said too much about her family, friends, or relationship status. Nyx had seen how crazy peoples “fans” could get and she didn’t want any parts.

What people didn’t know is that Nyx and Paige, two people on opposite sides of the entertainment industry, were connected in the most intimate way. The two have been in a relationship for four years. Paige made her way onto the scene before Nyx, but little did they know she was behind the scenes for a few of those years and that Nyx didn’t plan on leaving.

Nyx got her first big role in 2020 and it’s been great for her ever since. Her relationship with Paige began with her first encounter with Paige at the premiere of her first movie. Paige approached Nyx to tell her how excited she was to watch it and slipped in that she thought Nyx was absolutely gorgeous.

The two of them exchanged phone numbers and the rest is history.

-

Nyx cleared her throat and adjusted the microphone on her shirt, “are we about to start filming?”

Paige chuckled and leaned over to Nyx, “relax, they’re still fixing the lighting.” Her left hand stroked Nyx’s face, Paige’s thumb ghosting her cupid’s bow. “Nervous?”

“A little, yeah. You probably don’t know me as well as I think you do,” she joked. “Don’t disappoint me.”

“I don’t even know what that word means,” Paige winked at you, her hand falling from your face.

“I believe you,” you chimed with sarcasm laced in your tone, making a light joke about her intelligence.

The lights dimmed and then brightened again. “Sorry,” the technician spoke up. “Blondie looks a little washed out on the camera.”

Nyx laugh awkwardly, not finding the joke all that funny. “Sure.”

Paige instead laughs at Nyx and doesn’t pay him any mind. She finds it funny because a lot of times even if Nyx doesn’t say what she’s thinking, her face said it for her.

She’s dressed in a purple sweater that’s kinda fluffy, like Sully from Monsters Inc. Her legs are covered in light washed denim and her shoes match the purple of her sweater. Her jewelry is gold: a gold chain, gold diamond stud earrings, and a gold ring on her index finger that matches your own. Paige’s hair is also wavy, her stylist crimped it. She looks delectable.

“Okay, we’ll begin filming in 3…2…1… action!”

“Hi, I’m Nyx Adams,” she smiles before jutting her index finger toward Paige.

“And I am Paige Bueckers. Today, we’ll be taking GQ’s Couples Quiz,” she winks at the camera. “Plot twist of the century, huh?”

Nyx snickers, “they’ve been trying to connect the dots, babe.”

Paige tucks her tongue into her cheek, shrugging. Their fans were always trying to figure out whether the two were single or not and if Nyx was spotted near someone famous or at the same event, rumors typically came about.

“Are you going first?” Paige asks Nyx, motioning to the deck of cards that are held by her manicured hands.

Nyx nodded, “yeah, so… get ready. These aren’t easy questions.”

“Please,” Paige waves her off. “I know you like the back of my hand. Have a little more faith in me.”

“I have faith,” Nyx affirms in a chipper, but sarcastic tone. “But with your horrible track record I’m a little skeptical.”

Paige moves her hand in the form of a talking mouth, mimicking Nyx and breeding a little friendly competition.

Nyx clears her throat, “keep that same energy for the whole game, P. Now, first question. How did I get my name out there as an actor?”

Paige mockingly gags, “you were ones of those TikTok… actor… people. The P.O.V.s and stuff.”

“Don’t say it like that!” Nyx laughs, “clearly I was onto something if it got me this far!”

Paige laughs too, running her hands up and down her jeans. “I get second hand embarrassment every time I see the clips babe, I’ll be honest.”

Nyx rolls her eyes, “you’re so sick and twisted. It was a different time. 2020 was rough.”

“Yeah, for everyone, but I wasn’t doing that.” Paige replies, their ongoing banter lifting the mood in the room.

The producer nearly suggested that the director cut them short, but the show needed this kind of genuineness.

“Mhm, yeah, because you were trying to recreate Love and Basketball,” Nyx ran her tongue over her pearly white teeth and a grin overtook her face.

Paige did her signature “alright, alright,” her cheeks becoming a rosy pink color. “Next question, yeah?”

Nyx moves the card in the front of the deck to very back and her eyebrows raise as she reads the question on it to herself.

“If I want to have a productive day, what three things should I leave at home? Or like, keep my distance from.” Nyx read off. “This one’s interesting.”

“I want to say your phone, but if you’re leaving your house that’s not realistic at all.” Paige hummed, looking up in concentration.

Nyx fiddles with the cards while Paige processes, adjusting the belt ok her denim skirt, which just so happened to match Paige’s jeans.

“Oh!” Paige snaps, having an “ah-ha” moment. “Your little Sonny Angels are one. Definitely, you’ll sit there and play with them like Barbies.”

“That’s one…” Nyx trails off. “You’re on the right track though, babe.”

“Uh… okay, so if you’re not going to leave your phone at home then it’ll be your AirPods that you leave. Saying that music helps you focus is a lie.” Paige read Nyx like a book, tapping her finger on the arms of the chair that she sat in.

“Dam— dang you’re good,” Nyx groaned. “One more.”

“What did you bring in your purse today?” Paige inquires with a small smile on her face.

“Is that not cheating?” Nyx answers her question with a question, side eyeing the camera to her left.

“Not if you didn’t want to have a productive day…” Paige trailed off with a hopeful look in her eyes.

“Madison…”

“I don’t know anyone by that name, who is that?” Paige dramatically asks back. “Does anyone here know a Madison?” She glances around the room and then shrugs, “guess not.”

Nyx rolls her eyes, “so do you give up?”

“Babe I never quit, but yeah this time I will,” Paige laughs obnoxiously at her own joke.

But, Nyx cannot help but laugh too. Paige’s energy was infectious.

Nyx clears her throat, reeling from the laugh attack she just had. She was genuinely laughing so much, think of when Zendays has an interview with Tom Holland. Suddenly everything is funny.

“You, babe.” Nyx responds.

“Me? Me what?” Paige inquires. It took a while for her brain to catch up.

“You! I’m leaving you at home!” She clarified.

Paige dramatically gasped, “no way. Bro you know how I get, why would you leave me?”

“Why are you so shocked right now?” Nyx chuckled. “I tell you when I’m leaving literally every time!”

“But you can’t have a productive day with me with you? No way, you’re overdoing it. I’m the most productive person you know,” Paige argues.

“No, definitely not. Azzi is the most productive person I know. And, we were almost late on the way here because you tried to convince me that we should’ve gone to the Sugar Factory.” Nyx replied matter-of-factly.

“We had enough time if you ask me,” Paige shrugs.

“We did not,” Nyx deadpanned. “Be serious.”

“A lot can happen in forty-five minutes! Don’t shoot the messenger, I’m just saying.” Paige reasons, laying the back of her right hand in the palm of her left.

Nyx sighed in disbelief, “this is an everyday thing.”

“Why aren’t you used to it yet?” Paige raised an eyebrow.

Nyx ignored her, shuffling to the next question.

-

Now, Paige’s turn would begin. “It’s about to get crazy. Are you ready for the ultimate test of your life?”

“I’m so ready, literally nobody has ever been as prepared as I am.” Nyx attests.

“How long does it take for me to get ready?” Paige reads aloud.

“Isn’t that kinda subjective though?” Nyx hesitated before answering, unsure of the validity of the question.

“Just go for it. If you’re close enough I’ll give you the point,” Paige answers.

Nyx nods, “okay. Well, I think I take longer than you and I take about… an hour and a half. You… maybe just an hour?”

“I’ll give you that,” Paige smiles. “I wrote fifty-five minutes.”

Nyx rolls her eyes, “see! I was never going to get that. You could’ve rounded up.”

“Excuses, excuses,” Paige fake yawned. She glanced the camera (they clearly like to break the 4th wall), “losers, am I right?”

“I know you did not just— that’s disrespectful.” Nyx’s jaw dropped.

“Don’t hate the player, hate the game sweetheart.” Paige replies. “Next question. This one’s tough, but don’t get discouraged.”

“Yeah, yeah, get to it.”

“Do I prefer sweet, salty, or spicy?” Paige inquires, crossing her arms across her chest.

“Salty, but you’re picky about it. You always end up saying ‘I need something sweet,’ and if you’re going to have a sweet treat it’s gonna be TrüFrü.” Nyx rattled off her answer easily. “Barbecue sauce is spicy to you, honey bun.”

“Okay, you had me at first and now you’re dragging it because I never said that I think barbecue sauce is spicy,” Paige said.

Nyx shifts in her seat, running her hands through her braids. “You didn’t have to, I know you.”

“I got ‘I need something sweet’ from you. It’s your fault,” Paige chimed.

“So… it’s a bad thing that I’m a good listener? I’m confused,” Nyx giggles again. “You’re… silly to say the least.”

“I’m not laughing.”

Within the next hour and a half Paige and Nyx wrapped up their video, eager to see how it came out. Given that this video would be their form of a hard launch, they wanted the video to perfect encapsulate their relationship.

-

nyxadams • 2 min

Liked by paigebueckers, icebrady, jujubballin, zendaya, and 592,167 others

nyxadams check us out on gq! there’s a surprise waiting for you!

PINNED paigebueckers 4 years down, forever to go 🫶🏻

↬ nyxadams you’re stuck with me

user1 when worlds collide???? 😧

kkarnold yesss girlypop 😍 my first time commenting on your page 🤞🏾

↬ nyxadams this is such an emotional moment

justinskye omg is this real or like a fan edit

user2 alexa play that should be me

akira_akbar it only took 20 years for you guys to pop out 😪 proud mom moment

nikamuhl k but i miss you so when are you coming back to seattle

↬ nyxadams coming right now sugarplum

user3 rue, when was this?

icebrady nyx where are your earring from i NEED a pair

↬ nyxadams you can literally come get them from me right now

‘AND YOUR DIVISION ONE 2025 CHAMPS ARE THE UCONN HUSKIES’

you read as the town nearly erupted into cheers, you couldn’t even bear to turn on the tv to watch. you barely even wanted to hear about basketball especially since you and paige had went completely no contact. hell— you didn’t even wanna hear about sports. you wanted to be happy for her, you really did. you all were friends before you all started dating, so the love was still there of course. but you couldn’t help but to think this win was at the expense of you alls relationship.

it couldn’t have been no more than 2 months ago when paige asked to put you alls relationship on “pause”, which you knew was short for ending it completely. you couldn’t blame her, you alls paths were completely different. you wanted to go to grad school and paige was still paige. #1 in the draft, #1 in her conference, just over achieving as usual. you didn’t blame her at all, suffering from success was her biggest issue. you saw how much it overwhelmed her and what the pressure did her mentally and even physically. who knew that when it was time for her to downsize her life, she’d remove you out the equation.

you sucked it up and charged it to the game, you constantly wondered if she was as torn up about the distance between you two as you were. but knowing her, she was too busy to even care.

you clicked on your phone, breaking away from the darkness in your room. you opened twitter, half-smiling at the congratulatory posts. you wanted to text paige so bad, to let her know that you were proud of her. that you missed her and you couldn’t wait to celebrate with her, that you were sorry for missing the game and that you couldn’t wait for the draft this month either.

but you couldn’t. you weren’t even invited to the game, and the draft was out of the question.

nathaliebjoern asked:

What concerns would A have going on a roadtrip in USA in an alien/sci-fi tourist stops type way (circa 2013)? A is Black, grew up and lives in Denmark, parents are from African-country-yet-to-be-determined (possibly Ethiopia, but I do take suggestions here), going to USA with (white) girlfriend. Example: they're worried about being two young girls on a road trip (exacerbated by being wlw) so they are taking self defence before leaving (bonus: gets convenient/relevant later when they have to fight sudden, real aliens). Is there some specific concern A would have (bonus if relevant for alien hunting or car chasing adventures)? What precautions would she take or concerns might she have? Any concerns she might discuss with gf, even if there are no precautions to take? Or just ruminate over in internal monologue, i guess, but i want them to have a healthy relationship with lots of communication lol. She's the planning, overprepared type! I want the focus to be on their Alien fighting road trip adventure and coming of age lesbianism in the background, but i want to still acknowledge any issues A might have.

"I want the focus to be on their Alien fighting road trip adventure and coming of age lesbianism in the background, but i want to still acknowledge any issues A might have."

How far the world has progressed in terms of discrimination in your alien sci-fi world is up to you. Based on your description, racism and homophobia still exists. Perhaps it just isn't as much of a problem in this setting or story. Or encounters would depend on the town so your characters avoid and don't happen upon areas that may be a problem for the couple. Either way, it is not erasure to have a story where discrimination isn't something the characters encounter. I find this to be especially true for science fiction and fantasy.

As a Black woman who likes to travel, and in an interracial relationship, I take certain precautions before I travel. One way I do this is to research the travel experiences shared from Black women and mixed couples who've been to the places that I'm considering. I also look into news stories and reports about any incidents in the area.

This could also apply if you're LGBTQIA, in an interracial relationship and so on. As your character is a planning, super prepared type, it'd make sense if they mapped out their stops to make sure they were interracial couple / Black / LGBTQIA+ friendly and avoided any places that were not.

Also, what "friendly" or safe looks like may vary. Not all travel experiences are blatant in their discrimination or othering behavior.

What general attitudes might range from: ideas

The travelers blend in. There's enough diversity and tourism where you don't get an unwelcome attitude from the townspeople.

Some stares, second-glances and curiousity, but little to no blatant hostility.

Strong "celebrity-status" othering, to the point of being touched, pictures snapped of you, asked to poise for photos if asked at all, given free gifts, etc. (Note: this can be quite uncomfortable)

Stares and standoffish behavior from locals, but no incidents of violence.

Bold-faced hostility, such as intimidating glares, recording, taunts, yelling, and possible physical encounters like spitting.

Explicit threats, violence, being warned to leave, high risks of bodily harm.

Note that this doesn't mean everyone in a place would all act this way. I've traveled where there were stares of curiosity in one city or standoffish behavior in others, but it didn't extent to everyone in those places, staff, and so on. It also didn't sum up every single encounter. I've even heard tales of the very hostile places where a person warns the traveler that they should leave to avoid trouble from others in the town, usually out of kind warning. One can travel anywhere, really, and come across hostile people, and in that same town experience kindness.

Applying these travel experiences your story

The characters just mentioning that they've done their research and will avoid these kinds of places with known negative experiences should be enough. You don't need an actual experience of discrimination to play out, if you'd rather avoid that.

If you did want to include something without including an active experience, you could bring up the matter by mentioning the history of a place. For example, they learn some info and tell their partner that "Blank, Tennessee was once a sundown town and would've been unsafe for us ninety years ago." Or they mention some historical event that happened at a certain place, possibly even visiting a historic monument or museum.

I hope this helps; your story sounds fun!

lunch (f, s) - billie eilish

lunch 2 (f, s) - billie eilish

guess (f, s) - billie eilish

𝐏𝐀𝐑𝐓 𝐎𝐍𝐄: 𝐎𝐍𝐋𝐘 𝐓𝐇𝐄 𝐁𝐄𝐆𝐈𝐍𝐍𝐈𝐍𝐆

001

Series warnings: for mature audiences (18+). Includes mentions of death/murders in graphic detail, leg closing NSFW sex (eventually), slow-burn. Also overall angst and fluff!

Series summary: Peyton thought she had everything she wanted. She had a family, were they complicated—no doubt. Not to mention a cafe struggling on its own two feet. But for Peyton, that was more than enough. Insert Bucky Barnes, the mysterious man from her cafe. The more she begins to pull back the layers of the elusive Bucky Barnes, the more the facade of a full heart begins to fade and craves to be filled by his presents. All the while Bucky's own guilt consumes him—seemingly only being cured by his bed of lies.

Peyton noticed him; hell, how could she not. The cafe wasn't big at all. In fact, it was the exact opposite. With its six tables, including the bench outside, there was no hiding in the Beanie Bussiness Cafe. And the man who sat in the corner every day was no exception.

Often Bucky would watch Peyton or her mother, Adrianna, with his intense blue eyes, sending shutters down their spine. It had been the beginning of week three since he had started visiting them, and today Peyton had enough. She would talk to him, confront him if she had to.

Peyton burst through the kitchen doors, wiping her wet hands off on her worn-down lemon print apron. "Charlie, I'm gonna do it," Peyton blurted.

"Do what, exactly?" Charlie muttered, her striking green eyes never leaving the fresh cinnamon roll she was icing.

"Confront him.' Peyton said, taking a sip of her hours-old coffee. "Confront blue eyes, I mean."

Charli snickered, brushing a loose piece of her blonde hair behind her ear. "Is that what we're calling him now?" She asked, pushing her iced cinnamon rolls into the warmer.

Peyton rested her arms on the flour-dusted counter. "I've always called him that—besides, have you got any better names?"

"Hm. Touché," said Charlie, glancing over her shoulder.

"Great, now give me a cinnamon roll." Peyton grinned, her palm covered by a plate that she held out in front of Charlie.

"I think you can ask a bit nicer," Charlie smirked, dancing around Peyton with the cinnamon roll clasped between a pair of tongs.

Peyton took in a deep breath, inhaling the scent of the baked goods that surrounded her. "Charlie, may I please have the cinnamon roll that you are holding hostage from my clutches so that I can give it to the strange man who sits in my cafe every day." She asked in a robotic tone.

Charlie dropped the cinnamon roll onto Peytons plate, tilting her head to the side. "Fine—but we're working on your manners, young lady!" She shouted, pointing at Peyton with the pair of tongs she held.

"Pff. I have manners! So many that I think it could be my superhero name." Peyton boasted, as she faced Charlie while walking backwards.

"We aren't the avengers, Pea," Charlie said.

Peyton paused, her lips pulling tightly together. "I know—because if we were, we would have never blipped for five years, and my business wouldn't have gone to shit." Peyton said. She used her green manicured nails to push open the kitchens swinging doors, walking the peace offering over to table number ten.

Finishing her strut to the table, Peyton smiled down awkwardly at Bucky, who sat sipping his freshly roasted black coffee. No sugar, no cream—just coffee. She cleared her throat in an attempt to get his attention. She wanted him to look at her the way he did so many times when he believed she hadn't noticed.

Eventually, he did. Slowly, Bucky lifted his eyes to see Peyton holding a fresh cinnamon roll in front of him. Bucky shot her a stiff grin, one that looked almost painful to produce. He hadn't ordered the cinnamon roll, he never ordered anything but black coffee from the cafe, and he assumed Peyton knew that.

She was aware Bucky's only order was coffee. And in Peyton's opinion, Bucky had the easiest, and if she was honest, most basic order out of all of her regulars. So, of course, she knew he didn't order the cinnamon roll.

Bucky coughed, placing his mug down with his flesh hand. "I didn't order that." He stated.

"I know.' Peyton placed the plate down, scooting it in front of Bucky with the tips of her slim fingers. "I wanted to give it to you." She smiled.

Bucky's eyes nervously looked at the roll, then back at Peyton, who had found herself seated comfortably in the chair across from him. He stiffened as she watched him with her intense brown eyes. Her stare wasn't the worst he had ever seen. But it was so obvious it was physically painful to Bucky. 

"What are you doing?" Bucky said dryly.

Peyton leaned back into the chair, squinting her eyes at Bucky who sat before her. "What are you doing?" She asked back.

Bucky's eyebrows drew together as he took another slow sip of his coffee. He didn't know what she was implying, and he was nervous about finding out.

"I mean here.' Peyton's brown eyes grew wide as she slapped a hand over her mouth. "I'm sorry—not that you aren't welcome! What I mean is, I've never had a customer come in so often and never speak to anyone."

Bucky tried to respond, but the words were logged in his throat. All he could do was give Peyton his intense stare as it usually got people to leave him alone—but Peyton kept going.

"You see Mr. Jeffery?' Peyton shifted her gaze toward the older gentleman who sat reading an old book. "He comes in every day around the same time as you, maybe five minutes earlier. But he always speaks to us."

Peyton placed her hands onto the table, lifting out of her seat and leaning close to Bucky, causing him to shift back into his chair, uncomfortable with how close her nose was to his own.

"So I need to ask you two questions.' She glared. "Do you work for the Feds?"

"What? No." Bucky croaked, his eyes growing wide.

"Okay then.' Peyton sunk back into her seat. "So, are you stalking me?"

Bucky nearly choked on his coffee. He was coughing loudly while Peyton stared at him in distress. Bucky knew he looked peculiar sitting in the coffee shop each morning, not saying a word. And his approach to making amends was obscure, but Bucky was scared to reveal the truth—he'd be cruel to come in and ruin their happy lives.

Initially, Bucky had planned on slipping them a note and never returning. But when he saw how full of life they were, he couldn't. It felt wrong. So, he would settle for the stalker narrative—it felt better than the truth.

"No,' Bucky coughed once more. "I'm not—I should leave." He rapidly stood out of his chair as Peyton did the same, almost blocking him from leaving.

"No, I should leave you alone." Peyton ran her fingers through her hair, the tips getting stuck between her thick curls. "Please, sit.' She reassured, pointing to his seat. "The cinnamon roll is on the house. Tell me if you like it—it's our first batch of vegan rolls we're selling." She smiled, walking away backward, bumping into a table with her hip.

Bucky nodded, slowly sitting back down. His attention now focused on the warm roll sat in front of him, hesitantly he picked it up, turning it from side to side. It smelt marvelous, and before the cinnamon roll was placed in front of him, his stomach hadn't growled. But now, he was ravenous.

Bucky took one more sniff before taking a bite. His steel-blue eyes grew wide as the silky dough melted in his mouth like a marshmallow. He let out a low moan of satisfaction, it had been years since he had something so sweet, and he intended on savoring every bite.

From behind the display case, Peyton watched as Bucky devoured the cinnamon roll. She had a huge grin plastered on her face, mentally checking off talking to the man in the corner from her to-do list—not that she honestly had one.

She watched as Bucky stacked his plate and coffee mug neatly, pushing it to the edge of the table. Bucky would leave his coffee cup on the table on a typical day, with a generous tip tucked underneath it. It was thoughtful, and Peyton felt he was kind—or at least kind enough for her to bombard his space the way she just had. Peyton walked through the kitchen and into dry storage, where her mother stood. Pen and paper in hand, collecting inventory for the cafe.

"Momma, I did it." Peyton squealed, gripping her mother's shoulders, shaking them a bit.

Adrianna took Peyton's hands in hers, removing them from her shoulders. "Did what baby," She asked while counting the number of flour they had in stock.

"There's fifteen, by the way.' Peyton pointed to the flour."But I talked to blue-eyes."

"Thank you, darling." Adrianna jotted the number down and moved on, her eyes narrowing as she paused her stride. "Who?" She asked.

Peyton groaned, dramatically tossing herself onto the baking utensils behind her. "The man that always sits in the corner, remember him?" Peyton flayed her arms. "Oh, of course you do because he only sits there every day!" She exclaimed.

Adrianna glared at Peyton over her shoulder, not impressed with her daughter's tone. "Don't get smart. I might be pushing fifty, but I'll still give you a beat down." Adrianna threatened.

"Momma, you know I don't mean it like that. It's just, how am I the only one who notice him."

"Because you're a weirdo." Adrianna laughed. "But you're my weirdo, so it's okay." Giggling, she kissed her daughter's hairline, moving around her to finish inventory.

"Whatever," Peyton chuckled lightly. "I should be getting Mr. Jeffery his third round of matcha anyways." Peyton stalled, looking around her."Where is my coffee?"

"I threw it out!" Charlie shouted as she washed a pile of dishes.

"You did not!' Peyton marched over to Charlie. "Why I outta feed you to Alpine!" Peyton shouted, shaking a finger in Charlie's face.

Charlie smirked, biting Peyton's finger playfully. "That cat loves me." She said, releasing Peyton's finger from her mouth.

Peyton moved a curl out of her face raising her eyebrow cheekily at Charlie. "Seeing as he's my cat, I'm pretty sure he loves me."

"I think he loves him," Adrianna said, her head peeking out from the kitchen's swinging door.

"What?" Peyton frowned, walking over to her mother, standing on her tiptoes. "What the hell." She whispered.

There, she saw Alpine, her cat who was rubbing against Bucky, resting comfortably on his lap. But Bucky wasn't repulsed by Alpines friendly nature. Instead, he stroked Alpines white fur, only making the cat nuzzle into him more. From the kitchen, Peyton could see him whispering to Alpine— and of course, she couldn't hear what was said, but she was still curious.

"Oh man, what should I do?" Peyton paced, pinching the bridge of her nose.

Charlie, being the tallest, had no use for her tiptoes. She simply looked above Adrianna's head, getting a view of the action as Peyton paced back and forth behind them.

"Maybe go get your cat, just a thought." Said Charlie.

"Right," Peyton said, fluffing her hair a bit in the reflection of the window.

"What the hell are you doing?" Charlie laughed.

"Nothing," Peyton snapped back all too quickly.

Peyton walked out of the kitchen doors, slowly making her way to Bucky's table. Where Alpine rested on his shoulders, she thought of the ways she'd ask for her cat back. Maybe she could try "Hey, mister, can I have my cat back," or "May you please return my cat." It all sounded stupid, and before she knew it, Peyton found herself standing above Bucky once more.

"Hi," Peyton grinned, eyeballing Alpine.

"Hi," Bucky said, allowing Alpine to climb on his covered metal arm.

She watched as Alpine rolled over, swatting at his gloved hands. "He likes you." She chuckled.

Bucky began to pet Alpine once more. "Hm."

Peyton was taken back by his lack of words, not knowing what to say to him or if she'd get more than a three-word response in return.

"Do you have any pets?" Peyton blurted.

"No."

Peyton sighed, slipping into the same chair as she had done before. "Well, do you have a name?" Her voice had a nervous tremor as she played with her fingers.

"Bucky," He said, gently handing her Alpine while walking past.

Following him, she stuck out her hand for him to shake. "Well, I'm Peyton." but by then, Bucky was already halfway out the door.

Bucky nodded, shooting her a faint smile before shutting the door behind himself. Bucky knew her name—Bucky knew all their names. He had to because painfully, he remembered all of them. All of the victims who suffered at the hands of the Winter Soldier. Especially the innocent ones.

Walking down the crowded street, Bucky's phone began to buzz in his pocket. Taking it out, he flipped open the screen. He groaned aloud when he saw it was Sam trying to get in contact with him. Composing himself, he answered.

"Yeah," He said bleakly.

Back at the cafe, Peyton had Alpine cradled in her arms as she rocked him back and forth. She walked around to where Bucky once sat, she cleared his mug and plate from the table, placing them into the tub she had placed beside her. She picked up the daily tip Bucky left, putting it in her pocket. In the corner of her eye, Peyton watched as a tiny napkin fell to the floor. Placing Alpine down and letting him roam, she bent over and picked up the small napkin. Unfolding it, she read the one word written on it.

"Thanks."

How fitting, Peyton thought.

Smiling to herself and releasing a small laugh, she shoved the note into her pocket, feeling as if she had accomplished something for the day. All Peyton wanted to do was make those around her feel good—and most times, she achieved that with her baking. So knowing  Bucky enjoyed her first batch of vegan cinnamon rolls warmed her heart. After today she could officially put speaking to Bucky behind her.

previous part

Chapter 1: Awakening

Life was very odd when it came to the future. Sometimes souls are brought together in the most extreme circumstances...in a bang. Warning: Description of graphic injuries and swearing! Rating Estimate: Teen

I never wanted to be a hunter. Ever since I was little, there was a desire in me to perform. Dance on the stage to my own melody, to bring awe and in wonder for others to witness. A dream that I never had a chance to grab.

To perform in little free time, what wasn't taken by vigorous unwanted training. Nearly every piece of money made to buy materials with the purpose of crafting costumes was placed for ointment to mend any injury or ailment. A toy soldier who wished to no longer have a winding key.

Who would've thought that day where the key had broken was the day I died?

"What the hell did you do?!" The soft whir of electricity echoed through the void in a massive blur of distortion. Voices clear for all to hear but so jumbled that a possible identification of even a gender was impossible. Under all that chaos was a quiet heartbeat. "The machine is overloading! Everyone evacuate immediately!"

That soft whir grew into a high pitched whine as a formed cacophony alongside the harsh thuds from thousands of stomping feet. "___?! No, come back it's too dangerous! Leave that mongrel behind!" Growls of pain and concern from some unknown animal blend together with the crackle of electricity.

An explosion of bright white and velvet purple burst throughout the void with that heartbeat going silent and a small voice hidden amongst it all. Despite the darkness filling the abyss, sensations of phantom pain, muffled voices full of concern, and hands across the skin, that one voice overrides them all.

"We had a good run, pal. Misfits always stick together, ____."

Bright red eyes opened with a harsh start, their owner fully aware of the unfamiliar dimly lit room around them. These confused ruby orbs belonged to a young man around his mid 20s, and almost nude except for the black boxer briefs. Wild cherry blossom pink hair that ends halfway down the man's back, soft peach tan skin, 6'8 tall body sculpted with lithe but powerful muscle and covered in various scars.

Some of these healed wounds were mild such as scratches, bite marks, punctures but there were extreme ones from burns whether it be acid, electric or fire, 2 in deep lacerations to even a large bite mark on the jugular of his neck. Part of the man's body such as his chest and arms were covered in fresh gauze bandages paired with a crude makeshift splint on the right arm.

Raising an eyebrow, the young man removed the bandages whilst breaking the splint with a harsh pull before he took in his surroundings. The room seemed to belong to someone with a rich background from the decor alone. Pastel blue walls lined with beautiful expertly painted portraits, furnished dark oak dressers, a large vanity, double king sized bed complete with silk sheets, pillows, and hard oak frame, large oak wardrobe and three separate doors.

If anything, this made the man feel very out of place. He did catch what looked to be a pair of clothes folded by a table near him, a note on top of the stack. The pinkette delicately got out of the large bed and walked over to the table. 'Dear guest, sorry if I had to leave you a bit underdressed but your wounds needed to be addressed. Hope these would suit you until your wounds finally finish healing. The discussion about the armor would be a later dealing. Sincerely, Maestro of Wonderworld Theatre, Balan."

The man couldn't help the snort or raised eyebrow from the rhyme scheme of the note. His caretaker had left a plain white shirt and long black pants, the material being silk from spiders by the feel of it. Placing the clothes on, he noticed it was a perfect fit suspiciously as it wasn't too tight or loose.

Upon leaving the room, the young man fully understood where he was. It seemed to be a theatre, well, if a theatre was mixed with the dimensional size of a small mansion and aesthetics of a castle. The grand small staircases, rafters above a tall ceiling, fancy torches hanging through a few corridors and the various posters of different shows being some evidence.

As the pinkette walked down the halls, he couldn't ignore the feeling that he was either being watched or led somewhere. The corridors felt wrong, almost if the walls were alive and shuffling each other. He also can't forget the sensation of invisible eyes on his lone form. Whatever the case, the sound of someone talking or to be precise, two people grew louder.

"You are not touching my guest, Lance. Even if the man is odd, I will still hold a defensive stance./ That human isn't normal. Something you would easily notice if you drop being formal. Injuries on his flesh were those that can kill any human. You aren't blind to that weapon and armor made from materials that aren't of man."

Both voices were definitely male in tone and their owners' clearly arguing. The first voice was deep and had a texture similar to smooth chocolate, a type of sweetness paired with charisma. The second voice was softer just as it was light in pitch, however there was hidden animosity to the calm yet alluring tone, a siren luring their delusional prey.

All of it was coming behind a slightly opened door, perfect to peek through or eavesdrop. Quietly the pinkette tiptoed over to the oak frame, ruby eyes looking into the room on the other side. This particular door led to what appeared to be a bar from the kegs put on the side of the bar stand and the various liquor bottles stacked on the shelves behind it.

Sitting at a table adjacent to each other were two humanoids, both being significantly different from the other. The only traits these two oddities shared were their tall 10 maybe 11 ft tall forms, peculiarly thin waists, tendril-like hair, performer attire, spindly arms and spindly legs. Other than that, they could be considered Yin and Yang or opposites.

The one on the left had soft jellyfish-like pastel green hair similar to dreadlocks, pitch black skin, a large perpetual toothy smile, and amber yellow eyes that peered through his hat. A sparkling white hat bearing a red ribbon which acted like a mask for those odd eyes, red cravat, long sleeved short white coat with gold elegant rims, a black tuxedo vest, short red cape alongside fancy white gloves, long glittering white pants that were ruby red past the thigh with gold rims on the bottom, and white pointed shoes.

His opposed companion looked more human except for some glaring details. Deathly pale skin highlight by soft dark violet, long elven ears, blue eyes bearing slit pupils that dwelled in yellow iris, sharp clawed fingers, and long black tendrils with elegant markings in various colors such as green, pink, blue and yellow that sprung from the man's back but was also his hair.

A pitch black bodysuit with gold rims, torn long sleeved short violet cloak bearing elegant gold embroidery for a top, white mask shaped pauldrons on his bony hips and gold toed shoes made for nasty kicks. Wine glasses sat between these two eldritch like entities.

"Dragging others into darkness might be your role, but this one isn't taking a more grizzly toll. He is also greatly injured and like you said could've been dead if I didn't help instead." Spoke the top hatted male, that deep velvet voice belonging to him. It also meant that the darker counterpart had to be Lance from what the pinkette heard outside.

The young man scanned the room, ruby eyes looking for anything familiar to him. His focus immediately sharpened on the glint of darkish violet poking from a large wooden crate, belonging stripped off the pinkette. Carefully and quietly, the man opened the door then slipped inside.

He stuck close to the floor and moved about as the two slender giants were focused on their conversation. It was almost comical how the young man traveled on his hands and feet like a predatory cat, stealthily approaching the target without a sound.

The pinkette was about to reach for the box when the unexpected happened. The door he went through had slammed itself shut with a loud thud, both giants immediately pulled out of their conversation and watched as the chairs parted away from each other. An act that put the stunned human on full display, a deer in the headlights or hand in the cookie jar situation.

No one moved as it was a silent staredown, neither were expecting the chairs or door to come to life like that. It was the man who immediately broke out of his stupor first, the pinkette sidekicking the crate. The box shook as an object was flung out of it by the harsh force, a gun.

It was a double barrel shotgun that was an inky sinister violet in color, the barrels were that same violet but lightened to a red color by the end, the handle of the gun mimicked a dark violet scabbard bearing tannish gold spiral patterns on the side, bone like caparace similar to a segmented blade lined the bottom of the gun barrel and held the trigger within a bone like cage.

With very fluid movements, the pinkette grabbed the descending gun from the air by the handle and spun it until he was holding the trigger whilst the barrel was aimed at the two taller entities. Sapphire and amber could see the subtle cautious fear hidden in those steeled ruby orbs.

"Who the hell are you? And where am I?" The pinkette's voice was slightly rugged, fire within the husky baritone, and a bit of a growl in the pitch. You could hear how deadly serious the human male was at the moment from his voice alone. Lance and his unnamed companion carefully put their hands in the air, sudden movements would only spook the pinkette further.

"There is nothing to fear, you are completely safe here! Please put the gun down, such an item used in a theatre is a huge frown!" Even that giant smile remained despite the slight twitches that showed the top hatted male's nervousness, well, that plus the beads of sweat and now dot sized pupils.

Lance merely raised an eyebrow at the weapon. "You do know it is rude to destroy those bandages you were given? Balan had some difficulty but his will to help you was focused and driven." Those words made the pinkette lower his weapon but not drop it.

He contemplated the words then thought back to the note. Whatever conclusion that came to mind was enough for the smaller man to put the gun down on the table, something that eased the room's occupants. "That means you're Balan? Fucking hell. What the hell happened to me?" The pinkette questioned as he went to sit on the floor only for a chair to move in place instead.

An action that made the human jump back in shock, nearly kicking the chair. "Bloody hell! My day has already been Congalala shit so I really don't need all these magical shenanigans! Please tell me you have some liquor to spare." Balan and Lance could only look at each other completely aware of a very odd explanation.

Not even 5 minutes later, the pink haired man had down half a bottle of wine as he now sat with the taller odd men in the room. Massaging his head, the mortal man finally spoke up. "So I am in a magical sentient theatre that serves as a gateway to someone's heart. You two, mainly Balan, are tasked to use that magic to bring balance to anyone whose heart is out of place upon entering. Nearly godlike beings who performed this task for over 3000 years?"

The top hatted Maestro nodded his head in agreement while Lance took another swig of his wine glass. Both of them ignored the pinkette swearing under his breath, the guy was having a bad day so it was normal. Although none of them could deny that this particular person was anything normal at all.

"Alright. My name is Val'tah, Val'tah Choso and I'm a Monster Hunter." Val'tah quickly raised his hand up before Balan and Lance almost immediately shot out of their seats. "Whoa! Not that kind of hunter for Namielle's sake so don't have your knickers in a bunch. Do any of you have a pen and paper?"

Magically upon request, the mint green haired performer took out a pen and notepad from behind his cravat. Rolling his eyes, the hunter took the items and began to draw something on the paper. Val'tah then placed it on the table for both Maestros to see.

It was a sketch of what looked like a dragon made completely from stone. Stony humps that grew bits of moss protruding from the back, a tail that looked like large pebbles strung together, even flat wings to a wide meteor shaped body and narrowed rhinoceros-like face. "That is a Basarios, a Monster or species of monster."

Lance and Balan looked at the picture with curiosity. It definitely explained why the man had that sort of weapon or armor. "Hunters are sort of like mercenary peacekeepers. Whenever a monster starts a huge ruckus or someone has a job in monster infested territory, we get called to do it."

Taking a swig from the wine bottle, much to Balan's distaste, Val'tah continued. "We don't have to slay targets such as the Basarios if we want to. A Hunter has permission to capture and relocate any large monster to a better habitat, something that I usually do. Where I'm from, it's our duty to keep the balance of not only the ecosystem but between human and monster kind."

A hum of acknowledgment rumbled from Lance's throat, it was almost comical in a sense. Normal hunters have various goals in mind when it comes to hunting: glory or survival. This was the first time hearing about ones who bring balance amongst more dangerous fauna and humans. How very ironic.

"Very interesting, to imagine there is a world beyond the realm of our understanding. There is still a question, how did you end up in our sacred bastion?" Balan's question rang through Val'tah's head alongside a bit of pain. Memories flashing through the pinkette's mind as a look of solemn horror crossed his face.

"I'm remembering it now. I was assigned to an expedition to investigate some odd ruins located near Wyvern's End, a den of a very dangerous monster. Those ruins were actually a machine that accidentally turned on and… I think I was caught in an explosion. Dear Namielle, I think I died."

Silence washed over the room, it was so deafening that a pin drop could be considered a bomb going off. Balan's perpetual smile dropped into a neutral frown, horror crossing his eyes upon the hunter's visage earlier. Severe burns on the unprotected skin and his arm in a very unnatural angle...Wait.

Any other chance to say anything was stopped when a look of abstract terror and grief burned within Val'tah's eyes. "No…! Buena was with me. She must have got caught in the blast too! Where's Buena?!" The pinkette shot out of his chair, the piece of furniture hitting the floor with a loud thud.

Neither Lance or Balan could grab the hunter before he ran for the door, the hard oak opening into a gray expanse of rocky terrain than the actual hallway. Not that the change deterred the hunter as Val'tah ran in but surely took the two Maestros by surprise.

"The theatre opened its doors to a new world never seen before! Could this be the hunter's trauma born from his core or is it something more?" Balan was quick to pick out the growing intrigue within his darker counterpart's words. There was more going on with Val'tah but they couldn't figure it out without finding the man.

Both Maestros quickly ran through those doors to catch up with the hunter and his questionable head start. It appeared that the gray expanse was actually the part of a larger mountain, a steppe to be more accurate. Thick deciduous forests could be made out past some of the gray rocky cliffs other than the one the door led them there, vast yellow fields of grass and very rough uneven terrain laid alongside unknown fauna than just plants.

Or the terrifying large nest made from various sticks, broken logs, ivy, bones of different creatures; humans included, and large egg shell remains of whatever species made it. The only indication that this world was made by Val'tah's heart were the small floating islands and giant airborne accessories or props.

Ribbons woven through part of the forest, a showman's cane that hung by the cliff leading down to the grassy plain, masks hanging across the stone walls, and instruments disguised as plants or rocks playing beautiful music bearing a tribal origin by the beating drums, whistling flutes and sitar strings being strung.

"How very odd and peculiar. This place must be spawned from a memory very familiar. It will be harder to avoid any wrong, when the aura of this world is heavily strong." Balan spoke wearily, a feeling that they were being watched prickle the fuzz on his skin. There was also the strong sensation about splitting up being a very bad idea.

Using the cane to slide down to the forest below helped give both theatre dwellers a quick glimpse of the surrounding areas before they hit the ground. For a split second, Lance swore he saw something large moved through the trees. Whatever it was, it was too big to be Val'tah or any of his familiars.

Both Maestros landed on a reddish clay ridge, small ledges to an almost natural stone bridge connected the large ditch at the center, a small stream of water passing down the middle, various large mushrooms and beehives leaking honey from multiple branches. Or that they weren't exactly alone.

Grazing about the area were deer, their pelts were a dark green speckled by white dots that overlapped a soft peach underbelly, large grayish silver antlers for the males whilst the females had short black horns and azure eyes that stared at the duo. Some of the deer continued to munch on the flora while the others kept a wary gaze on Balan and Lance.

"Definitely inhabitants of Wonderworld but not quite. I think these deer were crafted by Val'tah's memories that hold powerful might." If these animals shared similar traits to their earthly counterparts, the Dark Maestro knew they were relatively harmless unless provoked.

Another thought then immediately crossed Balan's mind. "If these creatures are here, then we might have more to fear. These deer are prey…" Suddenly the various green pelted beasts rose their heads up, ears twitching as if they caught something the other two hadn't.

"Wouldn't a predator cause dismay?" The top hat wearing man really didn't like where things were going as the large herd began to scatter immediately when the sound of heavy thuds could be heard. One deer was running for the bridge, the thuds stopped and both Maestros only had time to blink when something large and purple snatched the scared fawn off the stone ground.

"Holy shit." Balan would've scolded Lance for foul language if they didn't have a bigger problem on their hands. The body of the snatched deer hung limply from the jaws of a giant purple monster. A 69 ft hulking dark violet draconic tiger, its body mostly covered in violet and yellow edged plates of caparace like armor bearing a ruby red underbelly, a short tigerine snout that held large sharp teeth and two large tusks at the ends of the mouth, giant jagged yellow horns that mimicked those on the helms of samurai which also covered long thin ears or the burning azure eyes.

Both front and back legs held four digit paws carrying razor sharp claws or what looked to be long yellow spikes on the forelegs, and the large reptilian tail that ended with a three pointed Spade spear. Balan and Lance watch the deer disappear into the beast's mouth, minced to pieces down its gullet and the feline smiled with blood tinted fangs.

Or that the draconic tiger let out a threatening roar right at the duo as bright blue fire burst from the edges of its mouth like a miasma. They barely had the chance to jump out of the way when the giant beast bounced at the two, sharp claws shredding through the dirt as if it were paper.

"This is a beast we'll have to fight or neither of us will come out alright!" Violence wasn't something Balan often indulged in but he knew there were times that he had no choice. Facing his hands forth, small spheres of yellow energy manifested on the maestro's fingertips before tossing them in the form of arrows.

With a wag of its tail, the draconic tiger brought forth burning blue will o' wisps and launched it back with a tail swipe. Both volleys of energy exploded into fireworks of their respective color, the armored beast leaping through the smoke with claws alight in blue fire.

Lance quickly dove under the beast while Balan flew over to the left side, the Dark Maestro flared out the tendrils on his back then slammed into the beast's unprotected belly alongside a vicious uppercut. The violet tiger felt the pain but took the opportunity to release a thin burst of glittering blue powder from its body before being launched into the air by Lance's attack.

Whatever the blue powder was irritated the raven haired male, the sensation being a mixture of itchy powder and bubbling hot grease. "Lance, look out!" Balan's shout made him look up at the airborne beast, the spade of its tail had opened into a trident as it swung the limb through the air.

The momentum being enough to correct the beast's position and trajectory so it could dive-bomb the Dark Maestro like a burning blue meteor. Neither of them expected for that particular powder to ignite upon contact as Balan watched his dark counterpart get flying by an azure explosion from his own body.

Creating a larger blast of yellow energy, the hat wearing man threw it at the violet tiger before heading over to his fallen ally. It let out a howl of annoyance upon the projectiles not only striking it's face but burst into a thick mustard smokescreen that made the feline gag.

Lance laid slanted by the tree he had hit, burn marks sprinkled over parts of his skin and clothing was singed too. "You okay, Lance?! This beast has more frightening power than just a ferocious stance!" Balan spoke, carefully helping his counterpart off the ground.

The movement made the elven male let out a mild hiss before shaking the greenette's hand off him. "As much as I like seeing you frown, this beast needs to be taken down. Balan, watch out for any powder from the skin of the hide, you'll lose more than just your pride."

Sharp claws of the draconic tiger swept away the hatted maestro's smokescreen. Bright blue fire burning burst the open jaws, the feline was absolutely pissed as even more azure fire spewed from the legs and tail or that the yellow ridges on the back and forelegs were now giant blades. It let out a furious roar forcing Balan and Lance to prepare for another attack.

That was until the entire world became silent, all of the instruments had oddly stopped playing. It was quiet until the sound of shamisen strings being plucked filled the still air with an orchestra of intimidating brass to follow in its wake. Sinister sounding melodies of violins and shinobue flutes were met with someone walking out from the brush.

It was Val'tah, a violet mask resembling the tiger donned on his face alongside dark violet coat with golden fur sleeves, dark violet hakama trousers decorated in elegant gold patterns reminiscent of fire and swords, two fake tails similar to the violet beast sewn on the back and without any shoes, only barefooted.

Balan and Lance stood speechless as the pinkette did something neither of them expected. The hunter had begun to dance in a style similar to those done by kabuki actors. His arms glided through the air, bits of glittering violet powder produced from the sleeves creating streaks in the air with an appearance mimicking purple misty fire.

Val'tah stomped his foot to the ground to spread out the mist like powder around him, the man spun into a short pirouette so he could stop in the Dragon Stance found in martial arts. It was like the hunter was manipulating magic to flow with his elegant and entrancing dance.

The sinister orchestra went perfectly with Val'tah's movements. Beating of hand drums, male chants with an ominous tone, shinobue flutes paired alongside the plucks of the shamisen and strung chords of the violin told a story on its own. A ritual performance of omens and cautionary tribulations.

Balan and Lance couldn't look away, neither could the beast who appeared to be calming down. The long yellow caparace blades lower themselves back into thin ridges, the trident tip of the tail collapses into its spade form and the eerie blue fire burning around the beast sputters out. Bright blue in its eyes dimming into a soft mellow teal.

Val'tah spun on the ball of his feet before transitioning into an aerial kick. The pinkette then used the momentum of the kick to position himself so he could bring down his arm in for a slash. He landed on the ground in a predatory stance, nails of his right hand dug into the soil, feet spread apart with knees bent for a crouch, left arm held out behind the man and the tiger mask facing the spectators.

The hunter then twirled himself into a backflip, all for the purpose of landing on his feet with his arms held and hands pressed together while the fingers were positioned to mimic fangs. Val'tah pulled his arms apart and let out a loud beastly roar with the final loud beats of the drum, the draconic tiger letting out its own roar in unison.

The pinkette took off his mask once the music returned to its more peaceful counterpart. "Glad I made it in time or Buena would've torn you to pieces. Luckily the Sonata of Omens can be played here or I would've been forced to do an acapella." Balan nearly choked upon the words Val'tah just said.

The giant hellish tiger that spews blue explosive fire was the hunter's friend?! Something Lance couldn't help but state the inquiry out loud. "You telling us the beast that nearly had us ravaged, is your companion that you ran off to scavenged?!"

Val'tah sheepishly scratched his head and let out a soft chuckle. The beast or Buena groomed their paws as if nothing happened. "She is a Magnamalo and they tend to be... tenacious predators. Buena is unique since she's friendlier than the regular 'malo, at least to me and any friend of mine."

Balan had a feeling there was more to this odd bond than just a story but… "At least your missing friend has been found, even if she treated us like a steak for a pound. Best to return back to the theatre, Lance got burnt bruises that need gauze by the meter." The top hatted Maestro then clapped his hands together as a giant door formed behind him.

It was big enough for the large Magnamalo to go through without any hindrance. Val'tah had a feeling there was going to be more magical convenience when it came to this odd theatre than just the taller duo living inside and a magical replica of the ritual clothing for the Sonata of Omens. Something to think about when he tries to figure out their situation.

And that's it! Yes this is a crossover between Balan Wonderworld and Monster Hunter but also my first Balan fic too! If you guys don't know, Balan Wonderworld is one of the games I've recently got and wholeheartedly. Sure it had problems but it was a delightful experience throughout my entire playthrough.

If you do decide to get the game, wait until it goes on sale. The full price isn't really suited considering the huge controversy involving it's development.

Our two star characters of this fic are an unlikely pair.

'The Hunter Who Wished To Dance' and owner of the mysterious 13th Door in Wonderworld: Val'tah Choso. A Monster Hunter who strived to become a performer but forsaken the goal partly for his ward, Buena.

Buena is a subspecies of Magnamalo called Will-O-Wisp Magnamalo. They expel blue fire often mistaken for spirit orbs and can engulf their body in an armor of azure fire for offensive defense. Only the Sonata of Omens, a mysterious ritualistic dance can calm a rampaging Magnamalo.