#naeth

It's Valentine's day! So... Let me share this kiss right before the end of the world! @ockissweek is already over!!!

With Damron gone, Naeth carefully ripped out the first page on his legal pad. It was a mess, filled with floating words attached to each other with strings of ink. Setting it beside him on the table, he began to write.

May—found at rendezvous sight with amnesia. On the surface, it seems similar to previous case victims, but considering her complete lack of memory and the fact that there are no missing persons who match her description, other alternatives are also being considered (perhaps a copycat crime? If so, why?)

May's memories theorized to be stored in physical object, most likely some [dense metal] alloy. If connection to the case is true, her memories could be the key to solving it, considering how badly they must have needed her mind wiped (assumption based on extremity of mind wipe).

Tagged by @rosesonneptune ! Thank you very much!! I only have the first chapter ready for To curse an angel, so have the end of the second scene:

“So,” said Naeth aloud, wanting to laugh and missing his husband dearly. “We’re all going to die, aren’t we?”

Rules: Post seven sentences of your Wip and tag someone else to keep the game going!

Here's a little snippet from Lingering hearts:

Berating himself but unable to contain the urge to offer comfort, Umaen folded his legs over the sheets and drew closer, placing his hand on his hair to pet it.

It was, truly, unbecoming for him to be taking such liberties, but Naeth hummed in relief and shut his eyes, leaning into the touch, and reached up to wrap his cold fingers on the fabric of the demon’s tunic.

“Why are you always so nice?” he murmured, low and airy, like a breath, like a secret he wasn’t quite aware he was sharing. “Too nice. Makes me like you too much.” Umaen’s hand stilled as he absorbed his words, but then he resumed his caressing, hoping to soothe his melancholic mood. “I forget I’m leaving soon.”

The first half of the story is just Umaen and Naeth singing along to "I won't say I'm in love".

If your OCs celebrated Halloween, what would they dress up as?

Alternatively, if you're not comfortable with Halloween, what do they like most about the fall?

Hmmmm a very good question.

The only one I know for a certainty is that Rook (being a dark-feathered bird person) would dress up as Howl from the movie, specifically the bird form.

Red would start by doing the Wednesday Addam's inspired "I'm going as a homicidal maniac, they look just like every one else" because he thinks he's edgy and very funny but he'd end up competing with May to see who can do either the absolute worst/dumbest DIY costume—or the most elaborate, depending on the year.

One year Red wins by going as a 'ginger bread man' (basically walking around holding packets of sliced bread. get it. because he's ginger. carrying bread) and another year May wins by going as the month of May, which she does by taping a badly hand-drawn calendar to her t-shirt (she thought about going more in depth and wearing a Calendar-Man-themed t-shirt, but that would be actual effort, which would defeat the purpose).

On the more elaborate side, one year Red wins with a meticulously hand-stitched and very authentic looking Wally West Kid Flash costume, and is promptly one-upped the next year by May somehow constructing a version of Pepper Pott's Rescue armor and convincing Aidan Vordur to use Mithae on it so it would have working special effects (it didn't take much convincing—Aidan never turns down an opportunity to tinker with mithecal engineering).

For his part, Aidan just goes as Gandalf the Grey. Every year. Except for once, when he utterly shocked everyone by going as Gandalf the White.

Damron is very standoffish and refuses to participate. He gets dragged into it anyway. Turns out they accidentally managed to unlock his nerdy side and the first year he comes as Kaladin Stormblessed, spear, forehead marking and all; then, since everyone is no longer fooled, he caves and comes in costumes ranging from a creature/monster/race (a large amount inspired by DnD) to very detailed character costumes (the year he comes as Aragorn he has a working replica of Anduril "because you should always be armed in case of unexpected attacks" no one is fooled you nerd).

Naeth goes as Sherlock Holmes, or other fictional detectives.

May tapped the first symbol. The band suddenly widened and tightened around her wrist until it hugged her skin, not tight enough to be uncomfortable, but firm enough to not slide around. A jolt of energy ran up her arm and spread through her body, making her jump.

"It had to adjust to a new user," Naeth explained. "It'll fit you now."

May smiled. Now this was cool. She wanted to ask more questions, dig deeper into the why and the how, figure out what each little symbol meant, but first....

She slid her finger along the other symbol, just as Damron reached out a hand to stop her.

A blast of energy burst out as something arced around her in a spray of silver sparks, sending both Damron and Naeth reeling; Naeth leapt backward lightly and managed to remain on his feet, but Damron tumbled over with a grunt of annoyance. Behind them, she saw the bird guy twitch. The one on the couch did not react at all.

"Oh," she said. She knew she should probably apologize to Damron, but instead she poked at the substance surrounding her, encasing her in a pillar of silver swirls. It felt pliable, but when she pressed her finger against it, it stretched a tiny bit and then held, unresponsive to whatever strength she put forth. She turned in a complete circle, and the structure moved with her.

The smile on her face split into a grin. "What is this?!" Looking up excitedly, she saw Damron picking himself off the carpet.

"It's a Mithae shield," he snapped, glowering more than ever. Which, she supposed, was warranted.

Naeth pinched the bridge of his nose. “Damron. Did… did you just name her May… because that’s the month that’s on the calendar?”

Damron shrugged. “Look, I don’t know human naming conventions and I think I’ve heard that as a name before.”

“Besides,” Riv added, yawning, “she didn’t seem to mind.”

“He’s right. Come to think of it, I could have just given her a shyde name.”

“You can’t just… you can’t just take advantage of the fact that she doesn’t know what’s going on. We're talking about her name.”

“Are differences in naming conventions really that big?” Rook asked.

“Apparently it depends on who you ask." Damron crossed his arms.

“Names are important,” Naeth said. “We should have waited, gotten to know her a bit better, found one that fits.”

500ish words

There were times, rarely, that Naeth wanted to quit his job and retire back to the Shyde community he had come from, never needing to look at the outside world again.

This was one of those times.

He had meticulously assembled all the information they had gathered onto several sheets of paper, outlining and creating a sort of map so that he could visualize how it all linked together. Everything they had compiled on the case, before May—both the person and the month—looked… regular. Similar to many of the cases they had worked before. Disturbing, certainly, dangerous and urgent, yes, but it didn’t seem anything more than that.

All of that information was on two sheets of paper, one for each month of painstaking investigation.

Since May had arrived, since the ensuing insanity, since Red had wormed his way into the facility and their team, Naeth had collected five more sheets of data and clues.

Part of him had hoped that it was all something completely separate, that they were now trying to manage two cases, that this was something they could leave alone for at least a little bit. That didn’t seem likely. Coincidences were a part of life, but get enough of them in a pile and they could hardly be called that anymore.

What they had thought were weeds had turned out to be mushrooms, an unseen network of roots stretching under the ground far beyond what they could comprehend. He had a sinking feeling that whatever this was would turn out to be just as impossible to eradicate. It was something deep, something sinister, something too big for their small team to handle.

And yet, they couldn’t go to anyone else in CENCA.

Naeth picked up a pen, pulling the nearest paper closer, hovering over it. No words came to him.

Sighing, he put the pen down and buried his head in his hands.

He hadn’t told any of this to Damron. Not yet. He would have to—it wasn’t like they could sweep this under the rug and forget about it.

Something invisible was spreading beneath them, and they were caught in the web, caught between the shadows of whatever group was causing the disappearances, and the lurking, obscured threats of darkness at the heart of CENCA itself. Trapped.

No one to talk to, in case it was the wrong person. He trusted his team with his life, with everything, but who else could he say that of?

If anyone had to do anything to deal with this, it was them. But they couldn’t. Four underlings against the combined might of CENCA and whatever enemy hid in the woods—possibly six, if they wanted to count May and Red. No dice, no gamble possible. The odds weren’t just stacked against them, the odds didn’t exist.