#cb writes

You shop at this market all the time but days like this are when you like it the most, not just because of what was newly available but because of all the people. No matter how dour things got elsewhere, you weren't the only one looking to forget about it for a few hours.

Usually you came on your own but after coming back with more than you could carry followed by some light teasing and cajoling on your part, your girlfriend started joining you on these days. Ostensibly it was to save you from yourself, and maybe it was at first, but it had turned into more than that over time.

Sevika may still grumble about it from time to time and say she's doing you a favour for coming, but it was all bluster—she hadn't skipped one of these days once since she started joining you on them.

"What do you thing of these?" You hold up a couple hand towels with cute embroidery. They aren't anything particularly special but you think they would help liven up your apartment by adding a splash of colour and design to contrast with everything else.

"Whatever," Sevika grumbles, a scowl permanently etched on her face, barely looking at you before saying it.

You give the stall owner an apologetic smile as you put the towels back to join your girlfriend. You continue your rounds while Sevika follows but every time you ask for her input on something not on the list, you get a terse, non-committal answer. It makes things harder and you skip things you're sure she would like, but you don't take her words personally.

Sevika had never been one to do things in half-measures but even so, when she said she was quitting, you thought she might have meant the smoking or drinking, not both of those plus shimmer.

At the same time.

Quitting any one of the three would have been rough but all three at once had rendered Sevika's tolerance for people to an all-time low.

You were never afraid of her or her angry outbursts—she was careful to not take things out on you—but that didn't mean you weren't aware of them or how she had the ability to act on those impulses if she wanted to.

She wasn't even supposed to come today, not because you didn't want to spend time with her but to give her a break and maybe spare some people broken bones in the process. You thought you could sneak out and leave her to continue sleeping since you had carefully avoided reminding her what today was but somewhere in your stealthy attempt to leave without being noticed, she had woken up and gotten ready without you.

You did a double-take when you saw her standing at the door and acting as if you were the one holding things up. Acting as if she never once told you she'd rather be in bed than being dragged along.

But it was clear whatever she was feeling then had worn off by now. She wouldn't say anything but you can tell she's at her limit. As much as you love shopping, you love your girlfriend more and this wasn't a time to let her face the consequences of her choices or yours—that was for when she insisted she wasn't hungry or wouldn't get cold, not this.

With an inward sigh, you mark the trip done and make your way to the fringes to leave when someone carelessly walks into her in the controlled chaos, causing her to drop what she was carrying for you.

Without warning and moving impossibly fast, Sevika's hand shoots out to grab the person's shirt before they could so much as apologize.

"Watch where you're going," she growls ominously as she easily lifts them off the ground, not caring how the area around her clears of people.

"S-sorry! I-it won't h-happen again!" the person stammers.

In the past, that would have been enough to let them go—they were appropriately chastised and had done no real damage—but now her temper had a target and she was reluctant to let it leave. Even the person seems to know how much she's at war with herself and thankfully keeps silent.

Walking up to her, you put a hand on her arm until she turns her attention to you. "Sev, let them go," you said quietly enough none of the people watching could hear.

If it had been anyone else, seeing the animalistic fury in her eyes would have have you shrinking away as your legs weaken, but this was Sevika—no matter how pissed she got, she had never given you reason to fear her. Still, you can't completely hide the flinch her unfamiliar burning gaze causes but it's enough for her to push the irritation back enough to drop the person back down.

Giving her arm a light squeeze in thanks, you start picking up the fallen goods as people started to disperse now that there wasn't potential of a macabre show. Nearly everything is fine, if dirty, but you silently lament the bruising some of the fruit took. When everything is packed up but before you can settle the bags into a more comfortable position, Sevika takes not only them but the rest you were carrying as well.

Any other time you would have insisted on carrying something yourself but the remorseful look told you this was the most immediate way for Sevika to apologize so you let it be. She never was good with words, letting her actions speak for her even if they were actually more work even if she had gotten better about that with you.

"C'mon, let's get out of here," you tell her as you sidle up to Sevika's left side, wrapping an arm around her waist. Out of habit, she drapes her new arm across your shoulders as if it was the old one.

"You sure?" There were stalls you hadn't examined yet and Sevika would stay longer if you wanted.

"Yeah, I'm not seeing much and I'd rather spend time with my gorgeous girlfriend instead of hunting down ever little thing," you smile at her. There was also a non-zero chance that something else would happen and you really didn't want to have to wash blood out of something, but you kept that part to yourself.

Sevika's quiet as you lead the way home and by the time you get to the edge of the market, you can already feel the weight on your shoulders. You were grateful to Jinx for the new arm but there was no denying how heavy or awkward it was. Sevika insisted on wearing it around to get used to it but the physical toll it took was greater than Sevika let on.

Even though she had improved immensely about opening up—at least with you—since you first met, she still had the habit of denying just how bad something was or masking her discomfort. Normally you wouldn't go out of your way when she claimed to be fine but this was a special circumstance so even if you couldn't do anything about the rest, you could take some of the weight off her shoulder.

Plus she was carrying everything else.

"It's because I lost my temper, wasn't it?" Sevika finally breaks her silence as you near home.

"That certainly didn't help," you readily admit since she brought it up. There wasn't any point to lying about it when she knew as well as you that it was part of it. "But I really am not feeling it today after all. I'd rather be at home with you."  Sevika hums in acknowledgement but doesn't argue. Whether you were trying to spare her feelings or not, she knew she was difficult to be around right now—there were times she got frustrated at herself—but at least you weren't coddling her like a child. Though she did regret her role in why you cut this trip short and for ever putting you in such a position.

She hadn't considered what the impact of her quitting would have on you when she made that choice but now she was all too aware of it even if you bore it without complaint. It was a lot to ask from you and sometimes seemed liked too much, but she vows to make it up to you when she's more herself.

—

“There’s no way you can know what I’m thinking if I say ‘guess what’. That’s bullshit!”

“One, no it’s not. Two, how did you even find out about that?”

“Axl told me. You’re god of games, not god of being psychic!”

“It’s a game where to win, I have to know what you’re thinking. It’s not that hard, Anders.”

“Fine,” Anders rolled his eyes. “Guess what?"

A thought that was definitively not his own filled his mind. Ty and I were the ones who broke the window crank on your old truck. Ty tried to crank the window closed on me.

Mike stopped, all thoughts of proving his point abandoned at Anders’ admission. "That was you?!"

"Holy shit, it does work," Anders said, astonished.

"Yes, it does, but my window crank doesn't!"

"It didn’t; that truck is long gone now, anyways." Anders grin only grew as he continued. "Oh, I'm so going to abuse this."

And with that, Mike realized just how critical of a mistake he had made in mentioning this ability to Anders.

"...Goddamnit."

----------

It wouldn't be Anders if he didn't immediately test the limits of something.

Unfortunately, knowing that did nothing to stop it, as Mike found out not long after Anders' original discovery. The bar was empty, and oddly quiet for once, as the two of them waited for the rest of the gods to arrive.

Or, it was, until Anders spoke up out of the blue. “Guess what?”

What if—

…

…Mike refused to repeat the rest of what Anders was thinking, even within the confines of his own head. Frankly, he wasn’t sure what of that was Anders’ own fucked-up ingenuity and what was Bragi’s gift with words used for horrible purposes.

It was a vivid mental image, that was for sure, and one he'd like to never have again.

He didn't dare turn around, his jaw clenched as he nearly glared a hole into the shelves in front of him. “Anders?”

Mike didn't have to look at Anders to hear the shit-eating grin he was wearing. “Yes?”

“You have three seconds to start running.”

If the other gods walked in a few minutes later to a couple barstools knocked over and the two of them tussling on the floor… no one really needed an explanation.

(Or wanted one. No one wanted to get in the middle of that — or find out what they had done to start it.)

----------

Of course, even that didn't stop Anders' plan, as he tried once more — this time from Mike's couch upstairs, rather than at the bar.

“Guess what?”

Mike responded without missing a beat. “No, I’m not playing this game, Anders.”

And he really wasn’t intending to. Nothing said he had to agree to play, and guessing games took two participants to work.

The unfortunate thing was, as much as his mortal half didn't want to give Anders the satisfaction... resisting the will of his godly half was another story. From the insistent nudging at the back of his mind, he figured he could get a headache from Ullr, or a headache from Anders.

The choice was easier than it should have been, really.

Bracing himself for the impending disaster, he huffed. “Goddamnit.”

I was wondering how long this thing would last since you just have to guess what I’m thinking but that doesn’t have a limit on how long that guess is going to be—

It turned out that if Anders didn’t need to breathe, he really could talk forever. Mike would be impressed, if he had any room to think over the constant stream of sound now in his mind.

—so if it’s all one thing to guess I just have to not take a break and keep talking blah blah blah—

"Will you shut up?!"

—absolutely not I'm nowhere near done Mikkel did you really think I'd stop talking this quickly you've known me too long for that—

"Oh my god, stop—"

—that won't stop me I can keep thinking even if you try and interrupt me haha I can go on forever—

With a groan, Mike blindly reached for the whiskey bottle across the table. He thought he'd been done with Anders tiring himself out by talking decades ago.

("God, my head fucking hurts," Anders muttered a good bit of time later, rubbing his temples.

Mike, who was doing the same with one hand and a glass in the other, leveled Anders with a blank stare. "I feel absolutely no sympathy for you.")

----------

Mike had — rather mistakenly — assumed it would be a quiet night in for him. That is, until a seemingly innocuous text flashed across his phone screen.

> Guess what?

"Great." He'd never had someone try it over text, but if that curious tingle in the back of his brain said anything, Anders had figured out yet another way to exploit it. He opened the messaging app, ready to chastise Anders for abusing his power yet again, when—

Ty and I are headed your way; situation happened with Loki. We'll explain when we get there.

Mike's heart dropped. Loki never meant good news, and if Anders was willing to admit that himself—

> Guess what?

We're fine. Loki just crossed some lines he shouldn't have. It's taken care of.

A breath he didn’t realize he was holding suddenly escaped him. They were alright — somehow, if Loki was involved yet again. He could bitch them out about it once they got to the bar. They weren't burnt to a crisp, or spontaneously combusted, or smited, so he could still chew them out.

(It was a horrible, relieving thought.)

Sitting down less steadily than he'd ever admit, he closed his eyes, breathing out as he let Ullr wash over him.

He could feel them approaching the bar — they were nearby. And still alive. He could handle the rest when they got here.

> Guess what?

Oh yeah, and Ty is Hodr again. Surprise.

...Probably.

----------

The world was ending, or damn near close to it, and by morning, none of them would be gods anymore.

It was a weird feeling. Mike had been a god for as nearly as long as he hadn’t been one, now.

Michele had stepped away for a moment, leaving Mike and Anders in an uncommon shared quiet, sitting back and observing the bustle of the casino around them.

"Guess what?"

Mike turned his head at Anders' sudden question, barely murmured above the background din of the room. He prepared himself for some quip, but instead—

It was the first time Mike had gotten more of a feeling that a coherent thought, and it was nearly overwhelming. A combination of thankful-relieved-peaceful-happy washed over him, and for a moment, he was at a loss for words.

(For a split second, it was as if a much younger Anders was superimposed over the one sitting in front of him, smiling and carefree before everything had gone to hell.)

He couldn’t send the feeling back, not in the same way, but he hoped his own smile and the light knocking of their shoulders together got the point across.

(He thought it did, from the way Anders leaned ever so slightly into him, even as Michele returned.

And of everything he was going to miss come the next morning, that would certainly be one of them.)

----------

"Guess what?"

Mike didn't have to answer Anders. He really didn't, this time; there was no pull from the now-gone Ullr, and even if he did, it wasn't as if it'd work the same way.

Maybe it was the lack of sleep from the night before, or maybe it was simply not giving a fuck in comparison to all the shit they'd been through recently. (Or maybe he knew he'd miss it if he didn't.)

Regardless, Mike turned around, an eyebrow raised as he finally answered Anders' question. “What, Anders?”

(“Nothing!”

“What?”

“Nothing! That was it.”

“You can’t just ask me what and then say nothing!”

“I sure can if it bothers you that much—“

For the Authors:

Bronze (at least 25,000 words):

Silver (at least 50,000 words):

Gold (at least 75,000 words):

and Personal Achievement (you beat your own record for most Winterhawk Words you’ve ever written!):

For the Artists:

These categories were a bit more complicated, as there are two paths to earning medals, involving number of art pieces and complexity of art.  Rest assured that the Mod Team will be as fair as possible when applying the criteria once it's all done.

Bronze:

Silver:

Gold:

Personal Achievement (you would have submitted this to us as part of your initial sign up!)

It wasn't everyone—you knew there were regulars and staff that still regarded you the same way as when you'd first walked in the door—but enough that your smiles and outward excitement ceased being an act at times.

You should have been more worried about it knowing what came after but the shift had been gradual and you had more important things to focus on.

Days turned into weeks into months, more than long enough to confirm your detour to Zaun had paid off. Anything could be acquired with a price but ignorance wasn't one. It took time to find what you were looking for and yet more time to make sure everyone was ignorant of what you wanted, but after you had it, you wouldn't need to go through this again if it worked.

But time had also been against you. As much as you told yourself you were only sticking around to make sure you'd shaken any tail, you were also coming to enjoy this slower pace. The current duo following you had been at it for years and been annoyingly persistent, driving you forward so even with your plan working, you wanted to make sure they were properly gone.

Time was also against you in how soon your much venerated plan unravelled. You were on your way home after going to the market. There was an argument but those and fights were so common, you'd thought nothing of it once you knew it didn't concern you. Then there was an explosion.

You'd been one of the lucky ones—you were only bed-bound for a week. So many other survivors were looking at months to recover. As soon as you were able, you returned to the bar to purportedly celebrate but it wasn't the same.

Where once you'd deferred to others and would avoid getting drawn into a fight as much as you could within reason, you were now the one who started fights just because someone startled you. Someone could touch your shoulder to get your attention and walk away with a new scar or someone could trip over themself only to wind up on their back while you held a dagger over their eye.

Brawls were to be expected in The Last Drop but you were testing even these limits. You knew you were testing them, too, so you took to sitting on the second level, out of the way and able to see everything and everyone coming and going. On quiet nights, it might seem odd to have one person up there but on busier nights you could blend in.

It was on one of those busier nights you saw two people enter. That in and of itself wasn't unusual but you'd seen those cloaks to know exactly who they were and who they were after. The music falls away as you watch them make their way to the bar, as unconcerned about the crowd as the crowd was about them. A few slip out at the sight, though, and more clutch at hidden weapons.

There would be multiple reckonings to come from this but you only cared about what was happening at the counter.

Thieram greets the strangers as if they were any other customers but you knew something had been said when he dropped his smile and stood straighter. It's too noisy to hear what's being said, though you had a good idea what it was.

Whenever there's movement from the stairs, you feel yourself inhale as you pretend to be lost in thought. Someone bumps your elbow but you don't react. Your heart is hammering faster than the beat of the music you barely hear.

Sweat pricks at your scalp as Sevika walks over to see what was going on as you grip your glass tighter. Thieram not pointing you out wasn't surprising but Sevika just might—she'd never warmed up to you. At any moment, you expected a pair of steel eyes to look at you, a floodlight you'd have a hard time escaping.

Your hand is cramping around your drink when a deep, sarcastic laugh makes you jump, your free hand twitching before you can stop it. Sevika walks back to her table, thin tendrils of smoke rising from an ashtray there, the interaction over. Part of you hoped the strangers would keep pushing but they were too smart for that, as unhappy as they were over whatever Sevika had told them.

The younger one scowls, looking for someone to take their anger out on before storming out of the building instead, shoving past anyone who made the mistake of getting in their way. The older one looks grim but not surprised, lingering a moment more to scan faces before following Scowl. You risk a look at Sevika, expecting her to be staring at you, but she's back to sorting out paperwork as if nothing had interrupted it.

Not daring to move, your mind and heart race.

"Y'going to tell me what the hell all that was about?" Sevika demands, shoving you against the exterior of the bar for emphasis. She'd dragged you out back after catching you trying to slip out. "Or were you just going to sneak away?" That had been the plan—you'd waited until she was properly busy, or so you thought, but she must have been keeping an eye on you.

Your eyes go wide. "I don't know what you're talking about," you say, allowing a touch of the fear you felt to bring out a quiver in your voice.

"Why are there people asking after you?" There was a barely contained growl to her voice.

"I really don't know," you insist. Your eyes start to glisten as you shy away from her as best you can.

Sevika presses close, speaking slowly. "Drop the act. I know trouble when I see it and that was trouble. I want to know what kind." Anger and heat radiates off her and though it wasn't her you were afraid of, she wasn't helping.

You hadn't accounted for her catching you. All you needed was one concession, a single moment of doubt or distraction and you could get away but she was giving you nothing and there was only so far you could push her—you would have to play her game.

With a sigh, you straighten up. There was risk in this but not as much as there would be otherwise. You'd already marked Zaun as one of the places you wouldn't return to for a time, now it would be longer, if you returned at all. Looking Sevika in the eye, you speak with the same slowness she had.

"If I'm not here, they won't stick around for long."

Your change does nothing to dissuade Sevika or make her pause. "Except they'll poke around while they are," Sevika growls. "Bounty hunters make people nervous. Nervous people are bad for business."

You let out a dry laugh—of course she would be concerned how this would affect Silco's dealings. "They don't care about any of that. You could have the largest bounty on your head and trade a mountain of shimmer in front of them and they'll do nothing. They want me and only me so if I leave, they'll follow."

Her eyes narrow at how flippant you were being. "You seem sure about that."

"I am. Do you really think this is the first time they've shown up?" How unaware did she think you were? "No matter where I go or what I do, they're always there."

"And why do they want you?"

"No idea."

The impact against the wall makes you grunt and your teeth knock together. Sevika was pinning you in place with her right hand but it was the left you were keeping an eye on. "You're going to tell me exactly what's going on," she hisses, "or I will stop being nice."

You fully believed this was her going easy on you. As rough as she was being, you'd seen her give people no chance to explain themselves and heard she could do more and worse when it came to proper fights. You could probably take her but you didn't want to go that far if it could be helped.

It would also draw a crowd and raise unwanted questions if you couldn't end it quickly.

"I can only tell you what I know, and what I know is neither you nor anyone else has reason to fear them," you state. Sevika searches your face but you weren't lying. It wasn't the entire truth, though.

She leans closer. "That's only part of it. You're going to tell me what's going on. Now."

Of course that wouldn't be enough. You sigh inwardly—this was taking longer than you'd have liked.

"What's going on…" you drawl, dragging out each word as if the hand on your chest made it hard to speak while you shift your hips as if you were simply adjusting which leg bore more weight, but you aren't able to say any more before metal clamps around your neck, hoisting you up.

"None of that," warns Sevika while taking a step back with her right foot, leaving only her left arm within reach.

You wince at the sudden change, a new pain coming from something digging into your back. For the first time, proper anger flares up but you keep your hands still and where she could see them. She may know of your fondness for small, bladed weapons but it wasn't your only trick, as loathe as you were to use that one.

"Good, you can listen," she smirks, thinking there was nothing you could do. There was more but a distraction wouldn't get you out of this—it may even make it worse. "One more time: what the hell are you dragging us into?"

You glare at her with defiance. All this time, all the distance, and it was some random goon who'd caught you. Not one of the people hunting you, not someone who only cares about money, a glorified bouncer who had no idea who or what she had.

You work up the saliva and spit to the side. You could have aimed it at her but your meaning was clear all the same and she wasn't impressed.

Even as her grip begins to tighten, you remain silent. It gets harder to breath and your vision starts to dim yet you say nothing. Let her deal with the consequences and see how well she would fare.

Then that same spite turns on you.

"… Fine," you begrudgingly whisper, hating yourself for giving in. The grip on your neck returns to where it started and you do your best to remain composed while gulping down the dirty air. "Those weren't your everyday bounty hunters back there. It's why I know they don't give a fuck about what you, Silco, or anyone in The Lanes does," you answer hoarsely.

"They sure looked it."

"Lots of overlap," you respond, "but they have no interest in money so they can't be bought off." If they could, you'd have done it long ago.

Sevika's brows furrow as she tries to puzzle out what you were implying. "If not bounty hunters, what are they?"

Your answer isn't immediate and when it comes, there's a weariness in it that hadn't been in there before. "Hounds driving a fox for their master. Mage hunters, after a fashion." Even knowing it was coming, it wasn't the easiest thing to admit—people had a habit of acting strange about it.

Like now.

You know when she processes what you'd said and what it meant by the way she shifts. A flicker of newfound wariness crosses her face before disappearing. Not as extreme as groveling or wailing in fear but it stung all the same.

Even from her.

"So you're a…?"

"Mage?" you finish for her. "Not by choice."

Watching Sevika's reaction to your confirmation is less satisfying than you would have thought. She was recounting every story she'd ever heard about the arcane, mages, and the Rune Wars—some true, some meant to scare children—and assuming the worst.

"I'm not going to boil your blood," you say sarcastically, rolling your eyes. There was a shadow of a trace of hurt you couldn't keep out, though. Even if you could do that, it was galling anyone would think you capable of it.

"… Why is someone after you?" she asks with a sigh. She'd found herself committed whether she wanted to be or not.

You answer with a single bitter bark of laughter. "Simply existing seems to be enough of a reason."

Sevika grimaces at that, knowing the type. "And now they're here asking about you." This had gone from an inconvenience to a complication in more ways than one.

"So let me go," you reiterate. "No fox, no hounds." But your words fall on deaf ears

You can practically see the gears turning as she takes everything in, seemingly forgetting about you entirely. Another time you would have enjoyed seeing what she would come up with but you had to move this alone.

It had only been meant to get her attention but when you move your hand as if you were reaching for something and her eyes flash to yours, you freeze, fearing she was about to end everything.

Instead of snapping your neck, she releases her grip.

Landing heavily, you immediately put the mask back on. "Finally saw reason, eh?" you grunt as you rub your throat and dust yourself off. She doesn't respond and you weren't going to waste this chance.

If you'd been faster, you could have dodged the vise-like grip before it grabbed hold of the back of your neck, but your reflexes were off.

"Who said you could leave?" You were almost impressed by the speed she got over any fear of you—you would have been if your situation had only marginally improved.

"I thought—"

"That I was letting you go?" She steers you back to the door. "You dragged me into this mess. You're going to help me clean it up."

—

[next >>]

—