#rewrite.

If the writers actually explored Loona’s and Octavia’s conversation instead of using it to polish up Stolas’s (very much immature) parenting, they could actually expand on lots of things. Not many, certainly not the entire pacing and sloppy flaws, but at least, something.

Like. Look.

Octavia is a royal born and Loona grew up in abusive pseudo-dog care. Octavia has a father who is willing to spend and pamper her but does not truly try to listen to her, while Loona’s dad is very much willing but lives an incredibly poor status. Loona lived most of her childhood in an environment that deprived her of basic needs while Octavia ate on silver plate. Loona is literally a glorified pet and Octavia is an heir to a throne.

The potential, dude. The potential.

Imagine. This could have humanized both Loona's and Octavia’s situations. Share both their thoughts and feeling about the situation. Now, I’m going to go down some speculative routes and write up what else they could have shown with the scene.

Humans are rare in Narnia, so much so that even exposed time in Narnia once accepted by its magic will change you.

Tasha was right. The walk to the infirmary was a lengthy one. Made only more arduous by, collapsed trees, collapsed buildings and the scorching heat. It was around this time, I started to regret my choice in fashion. A jacket in a Caribbean climate,,most definitely could be added, to my list of bad decisions.

Tasha walked about ten paces behind me. She held the sheathed sword out in front of her. A constant warning, should any urges take hold of me.

“How much further?” I asked.

“Still a ways.” She said. I couldn’t see it, but I was sure she had a scowl on her face. “You just…keep your head straight.”

I groaned.We’d never get anywhere productive with her still afraid of me.”Nicolai,” I said.

“What?” She asked.

“My name…it’s Nicolai. Nicolai Warren. I realize I never gave it to you guys. That was very rude of me.”

“How do I know that’s not a lie?” she asked.

I stopped and took my wallet out of my pocket.” Here.” I said. I didn’t turn around to hand it to her. I just held my hand out and let her take it. I heard her riflingthrough it as she Hmm’d and Haw’d at all my cards.”Hey! I got two hundred dollars in there. Don’t play smart?”

“So you’ve got some cards in here that say you’re one person, but you might be another.”

I held my hands up and turned around slowly. “Ok mistrusting one another isn’t gonna get us anywhere.So how about we just…have a conversation.”

Tasha stuffed my wallet in her bossom and kept the still sheathed sword, pointed at me.” Fine, you go first.”

I sighed. “Ok umm, I’m twenty one. I love hoodies. I hate bad literature. My favourite food is bar-be-que chicken. I love robots and I hate cats.”

“Those are things that could be said about almost everyone.” She curled her mouth into a sarcastic expression and shrugged.”

Tasha wasn’t going to be satisfied with surface level information. I put my hands together and rubbed them. With a clap I pointed at her.

“Ok, you want personal.” I smiled.” That’s fine.” I nodded. “Ok so, ummm.I…I’m pansexual. I’ve had a heart condition since I was twelve.” I reached into my pocket and produced my near empty bottle of pills. “I have a personality disorder called B.P.D. It stands for borderline personality disorder.”

Tasha extended her hand toask for the pills and Ihumbly gaveit to her. Her eyes scanned the label, as if he was reading some hidden knowledge in an apocryphal text.

“These are…some pretty strong anti-psychotics,” she said.

I nodded. “They are. Most days I don’t need them but, every now and then a situation pops up.”

“So this—“She squinted at the label on the bottle. “Borderline. It makes you go psycho or something?”

I shook my head.” Not necessarily. The pills are more to protect me from me than they are to protect you from me.”

Her voice grew softer as she asked. “You’re suicidal?”

I sighed. “That’s not the general concensus for people with B.P.D. but…yeah. Sometimes I wanna sleep and never wake up.”

Tasha’s expression changed from frightened to worried. She slowly lowered the sword and handed the pills back to me.

“Why do you want to kill yourself?” She asked.

I winced.” Ooooh sorry but, you gotta hear at least five sob stories, before you unlock that level of friendship.”

She covered her mouth and tried not to laugh. This was what I hoped for. Tasha never struck me as a bad person. Ryan, for all my jealousy against him, trusted her.And I didn’t think someone like Ryan would make shit choices, in the people he surrounds himself with. He chose Nikki after all.

If the only hurdle I had to cross to gain her friendship, was my crass manner and unpredictable emotions, then all I’d do is kick it down with humor.

Tasha smiled and stretched her hand out for me to shake. “Tasha Danvers.” She nodded.

I shook her hand and said.” Pleased to meet you.” She seemed more relaxed as she retracted her hand. I’d neveractually see friendship bud in someones’ eyes before.”So! What’s your secret? Got two penises or something?” I laughed.

Her eyes opened wide before she glued her eyes to the ground. “Some…Something…Something like that?”

“Something like that? What do you mean? You have a dildo collection or something?” I laughed.

Tasha stayed silent. I should have known better. For how often I kept my eyes glued to my damn textbooks, I should’ve been able to tell the signs of embarrassment. The avoidance of eye contact. The nervous scratching of the skin. The pivoting back and forth. These were all the signs I knew that showed an uncomfortable person. Yet my bloody nonchalance caused me to miss them.

“I’m…”Tasha stuttered. She kept looking behind her, like she was getting ready to take off. “I’m not exactly, the prevalent version, of how you might see a woman.” Her voice had started to crack.

My eyes opened wide and it seemed like my heart stopped from the shear amount of shame.” Oh god are you…are you transgender?” She closed her eyes and nodded, but that didn’t stop the tears.”Hey, hey wait! Hang on. Don’t do that.”

“I’m sorry,” She said. She was still trying her best to hold in her tears but, that seemed fruitless once the sobbing started. “You know.You hear the jokes everyday.Over and over and you think…you think that you’re supposed to get tougher. You’re supposed to get accustomed to it. But you never do. The pain is always there and every time a new person—“She stopped and turned away from me. “I’m sorry just…give me a minute.”

“It’s ok you know,” I said. “I don’t have a problem with who you are.”

“Everyone says that!” She shouted. “Everyone wants to be the progressive friend, who accepts everything, and then they thnk about it. Or their other friends think about it for them!” She dried her eyes and pointed the sheathed sword at me again.” People will always find the easy way out and it’s easier to throw things away than sort them out.”

I spread my arms in advocation. “We just met. Is that what you think I’ll do? Run away because of your genetalia?”

“Why not!?” She shouted. She jabbed the sword into my stomach and said. “It’s what everyone else does.”

My hands dropped to my side.I closed my eyes, took a deep breath and clenched my fist. “I was raped!” I blurted out.

“W-What?” Tasha asked. Her voice was full of shock.

I opened my eyes. “When I was twelve…I was raped. A thrity two year old woman, drugged me and raped me, because her boyfriend stood her up and she needed a man to take it out on.”

Tasha squinted at me. She looked like she wanted to laugh, but at the same time, I guess she could see that,I wasn’t lying.”You…You were raped?” she asked.

“Yes,” I replied and stuck my hands in my pockets. “It’s not a nice memory to revisit. So please, don’t make me repeat it a third time.”

Tasha swallowed hard. She backed off and slowly lowered the sword. “You’re…You’re just a ball of issues aren’t you?”

I smiled. “Most definitely but, that’s part of being human isn’t it?”

She sighed. “Sometimes…I don’t feel too human.” She dropped the sword and sat on the ground. Tasha buried her face in her hands and started rocking back and forth. “Sometimes I don’t feel very human at all.

I shrugged and took a seat beside her. “Yeah well, you find that if you let it, the world will find all sorts of ways to take your humanity from you.”

She looked up from her hands and asked. “Why did you tell me all that? About your condition? About being raped?”

“I’m accustomed to being vulnerable. You looked like you weren’t. You strike me as someone who has alot of guards up,” I said. “For the right reasons of course.” I shrugged.

A warm smile came over her face. Tasha dried her eyes and laughed. “You’re…less of an asshole than I thought you were.”

“That’s good!”I smiled.”So where do I fall now? Jackass? Delinquent?” I snapped my fingers and pointed at her.”Oh! Oh! I always wanted to be a malcontent!”

She started laughing uncontrollably.”Where did you come from?”

I shrugged. “My moms’ vagina mostly but, she’s been known to lie. I’m sure there’s documentation somewhere, that validates me as a sentient turd.”

Tasha grew hysterical and had to take a minute to catch her breath.”I take it back. You are an asshole.”

I stood up and dusted myself off. “Ah well, Twas fun while it lasted.” I extended my arm to help Tasha up. She took it with a smile.

After she dusted herself off she said. “Thank you. Nicolai. It’s refreshing to be upfront with someone and not have them attack me.”

“Yeah well, people like to pretend to forget, that we’re all human.” I hadn’t noticed it before but, the shirasaya was still lying on the ground. I picked it up and offered it to Tasha.” But the beautiful thing about the truth is. Even if you don’t believe it, it’s still the truth.”

Tasha refused the sword and for a minute, I could have sworn she blushed. “You keep it.” She said. “I can’t use it anyway.”

“Alright then.”I said with a smile. I twirled the sword between my fingers and masterfuly slid it back into place, beneath my belt. “Well, that was catharthic. Let's never do that again huh?”

“Right!” Tasha nodded. Her gloomy and distrusting mood, changed to an upbeat one.

“Also can you lead the way? I think I’ve been leading us in circles for a good fifteen minutes,” I said.

“Sure!” she nodded happily. Then proceeded to walk ahead.

                                             ◊◊◊

It was a surprise to see the infirmary relatively untouched. There was a massive collapsed tree that fell just short of the entrance. From the looks of it, it seemed like the tree had taken two cars with it. It was unclear whether or not there were people still inside them, but for the most part, there didn’t seem to be any dead bodies.

Tasha and I slowly crept up the ruined sidewalk. Misshapen steel and broken glass carpeted the walkway that lead to an open emergency exit.  The door seemed to be jammed open. You could seethe scratch mark on the concrete, where it dug itself in. No doubt from the sheer force it was flung open with.

Inside the infirmary was nothing but a long dark hallway. There wasn’t any power and the hanging light, made it look more like a cave than the inside of a building.

“I’m not going in there.” Tasha stated while she shook her head. “That looks like exactly the type of environment, black people  in horror movies die in . You go.”

“What!?” I asked.”We’re both black. How exactly would I be spared if I went in?”

“You’ve got a sword, you can do things,” She said.

I sighed. “You know…following horror movie logic, you’d die first if you stayed out here right?”

“How do you figure?”

“Simple.” I shrugged. “You’re a woman. We’re not in a demon or a monster situation, which leaves us with a serial killer situation. And serial killers are anxious, repressed, devious motherfuckers. As far as horror movies go, he’d quicker get his rocks off gutting you, than he’d get killing me.”

“What about if the serial killer was a woman?”

“Oh that’s worse she’d kill us both—“

My words were interrupted, when I saw Tasha fall to the ground. She held her head and screamed, as blood trickled out from her newly acquired wound.

A young man with a bloodied branch stood over her. “Yuh fuckin bullerman!” He shouted. “Ah go kill yuh!”

He raised the branch over his head to bring it down again, but I grabbed his hand and headbutted him, hard enough to draw blood. I was never much of a violent person and for the most part, I never fought people.Yet…for some reason, I felt no pain from the headbutt.

Another branch wielding assailant appeared from the bushes and struck me on my back. He didn’t appear to choose a good branch and it broke as his hit landed.

“Wha de fuck!?”  The bewildered man shouted. His jaw seemed perpetually dropped. His eyes darted between the broken branch and me.

I drew back with my right and uncocked a punch, square into his nose. I saw his eyes roll into his head before he collapsed to the ground. Again, I felt no pain from the assault.

“Ok, ok.” A familiar voice shouted. “Let’s not kill each other during first contact.”

I turned around to see a friend emerge from the bushes…No! Friend was much too good a word for what he was.

“Alvin!?” I exclaimed.

A stream of pink light spill across the stage, blinding his eyes. Blitzo awakens center stage. The smell of alcohol and sex hung pungent in the air while cages  filled with scantly clade strippers weaved and bobbed in the musty lighting. Blitzo swallows back the rush of bile struggling only realizing bombproofs reins  held him securely in place, tied to a strippers pole.    

The Boss imp squinted his eyes , groaning  as his eyes focused on Verosika and Striker. Verosika  was wrapped around the cowboy's arm twisting his straw gold hair her hand splayed out across his thigh. While Striker's cowboy hat rested in his lap.

He flashes Blitzo a smile, his gold tooth shining in the lighting.

Blitzo growls, Fucking Bitch! he snarls.  and  I'm not talking about that fucking tuna factory you  have on your arm!  shouts Blitzo struggling against his restraints.

It was late by the time they came out of the movie cinema, "Thanks for taking me to see the phantom of the opera twice." Says Blitzo, his tail wrapping around Striker's waist as they walked down the long stretch of Street.

"My pleasure, Blitz," replies Striker. "And then sitting through a double feature of Dances with wolves and spirit," Blitzo laughs sheepishly.

"That's the idea, sugar-cube, to get your mind off your work and find out what's really bothering ya." You haven't been yourself lately," Says Striker coiling his tail around Blitzo's waist. "And, that's my job." Striker reminds him. "We'll grab dinner here, and then I have something special planned for tonight. "A surprise I've kept hidden for such an occasion."

"I don't know what to say," Says Blitzo. "except that I'm starving!"

"Do you hear that?' Asked Agent 2 to Agent 1. they were on their way to deliver the news. Agent two peers over the brush "Look, agent 1, isn't that the imp that we kidnapped weeks ago?"

Agent 1 peered through the thick brush, " Who is that with him, and where the hell is that owl demon? think we could take them agent 2?'

"Either way I don't like this, were too exposed here, keep quiet unless you want them to hear us."

"what if we kidnap him again, make him suffer.' suggested the Agent adjusting her glasses. " This might be the only chance that we get," she whispers.

Just then, Striker turns his head slowly, A sadistic gleam in his eyes and a sly grin creeping its way across his face. His ear burned upon hearing their hushed voices discussing the kidnapping of his husband. As a fearl growl creeps up his throat hissing its way through serrated teeth at the mere mentions of that pompous blue-blooded prince.

Blitz pauses a shovel of spaghetti halfway to his mouth. He puts down the fork and reaches for his flintlock. Heart pounding, a look of fear in his eyes. Blitzo was not going back. He barely escaped that place at all.

The Cowboy could see the panic in his husband's eyes as he placed his hand on Blitzo's thigh to set his mind at ease.

"I got this sugar," he says, squeezing his leg. I want ya to stay here." Striker stands, his pale yellow eyes swirling with insanity and blood-lust. His hand itching for a weapon.

His spur jingle as he strides over to the crouching pair, who peer up in horror as the imp towers over them, a menacing look in his eyes. Disappearing into the shadows, with nothing but the sound of eerie fizzing of a rattlesnake.

"What did ya, simpletons say, bout kidnapping MY- mate," growled a voice right behind them. As A blood-red knife twirls in his hand.

Agent 1 shoots Agent 2 a chastising look before answering the hybrid, "We didn't know he was yours. We're enthusiasts, my partner and I, we want to learn more about you and your kind."  

" My partner and I are into extensive footages, we want to know everything their is to know about the supernatural world" " Like is it mating season where you come from?" Agent 1. begins to panic when neither Striker nor Blitzo answers him.

"We thought he might've belonged to that large and domineering demonic owl that broke into our headquarters and possessed agent 2, the way they kissed they seemed like an item."

"We wouldn't mind taking him back so we can extend our research, maybe dissect him." She says, before backtracking, catching the gleam of the blade. "we're on your side, Cowboy."

Blitzo watches from the table before coming up behind Striker, his tail winding around Striker's waist: like a worn belt. The Outlaw could feel Blitzo tremble as he wrapped his arm around Striker.

"Don't listen to them Striker, they subjected Moxie and me to some airborne truth Serum. We were made to suffer through horrific hallucinations, that shit still bothers me," Blitzo admitted.  

"We were tied to chairs and were left tripping with honesty, Blitzo whispers, eyes focusing on his boots. Wrapping his arms around himself while refusing to meet Striker's searching gaze.

"I'm sorry I didn't tell you about it sooner, I think I just wanted to forget."

Blitzo's voice trembles as he speaks, his voice cracking with pain at the unpleasant recollection.   "you tried the solo act it didn't work out so well, BlitzO  Cackles Fizzorolli. " Yet you shove away anyone who gets too close until they resent you, you self shit." Verosika's voice echoes in his head.

" you don't want to do anything alone, BlitzO. I should've been there when they broke ya. Maybe I could get a little piece for myself. " Striker snarls, dragging Blitzo through the mud. "  are you afraid to love people Blitzy? ,  You're going to die alone curled up inside a dumpster where you belong."   Stolas hoots, wrapping the golden chain around his hand forcing Blitzo to ascend. "you are nothing more than a plaything, my little imp,

Blitzo's eyes are wide and unseeing, forced to relive those severe hallucinations. Striker's eyes dart wildly between the two agents and his trembling mate. Blitz fell onto his knees, clutching his ears, his claws digging into concrete.

The cowboy hisses, fueled by vengeance. He lifts agents up by the faces, his claws digging into meaty flesh, before slamming their faces into concrete.

The Wrangler could hear Blitzo's voice trembling and meek through the blood haze as he tried to explain his experience to the man he loved.

"I awoke on a muddy plain; Fizzorolli was there, so was Verosika and Stolas, and you were there too, Striker" Blitz took a shuddering breath, I know I'm a failure and let everyone down, that one day I'll just die, and no one will care."

Agent 1 shrieked as the snake imp plunged the blade deep into his eye. He stumbles around blindly and in excruciating pain, clutching the hilt of the hell knife. He falls to his knees, aiming his shaking gun at Blitz, a weapon filled with tranquilizers.

Agent 2 rushes over to him, shielding him from the irate snake. "Will be taking him with us a live specimen is worth more than these frivolous tapes. Agent 2 laughed.

Blitzo tightens his grip on his mate's waist, forgetting about his flintlock tucked safely away inside his vest. "I-I don't want to die alone, I want to leave something behind, something to be remembered I don't want to be forgotten, if it wasn't for Stolas I'd be in a lab somewhere."

Striker hissed at Stolas's name as he shielded his mate from agent 1, that asinine owl again, Stella wanted him dead, and Striker was readily willing to oblige the harpy in the conspiracy of his death.  

He hated that fucking bird; his hatred and ire spilled over, intensifying as a clawed hand shot out, gripping Agent 2 by the shoulder blade.

"Drop the gun, or I rip off her arms," Striker growls. Digging his claws into her flesh. Ripping his nails down her arms and flaying her skin open.

White-hot rage blinded him, bone cracked and splintered, a piercing scream filled the night as the Agent dropped his weapon in favor of his partner.

"You have what you want, release her you fucking monster" Striker just gave him a scathing look. He had been called worse by his own ilk, who raked him over the coals for being different. Agent 1 continued to struggle with the hell-knife embedded into his eye socket, screaming as searing pain erupted behind his eye. His one good eye focused on agent 2, who was sprawled out on the concrete bleeding out.

" you can't escape us, red devil, she says, gargling on her own blood, will see what makes you tick yet."

Blitz shudders as he watches them writhing on the floor. Both in substantial pain, their bodies twisting in agony. "Serves you right for interrupting my date. Night" Blitzo growls. While Striker's hands tremble with rage as he envisions eviscerating them, here and now with nothing but his bare hands.  

His husband had felt pain. His Blitz had undergone unspeakable tortures at the hands of these amateurs. It took him weeks to coax Blitzo out of his shell, another month before he got him to agree to go on a date night with him.  

These assholes dare continue their pursuit of his chosen mate, then they'd be doomed to end up in body bags of their own.  

And these fucking agents dare mention Stolas to him. The prince would get what was coming to him in due time. Blitzo tail tightens around Striker; Blitzo's tail is stroking Striker's ass. Striker looks at him with an upraised eyebrow. this simple notion seemed to simmer him down. "At least Blitz is alive, and I'd be damned if I let anything happen to him," he thought.

He was skilled with his hand, taking pride in many things. His voice was soft and reassuring. If this whole assassination went bust, he still had his singing career to fall back on.

The candied-apple red imp was his, and his alone. "I can still savage the night if we leave now," he reminded himself.

The Moon was bright, and these mind-numbing heathens, who were hell-bent on stealing what was his, were making him late for their special evening together.

"Agent 2, hang in there!" shouted agent 1. Seeing as the snake imp was too caught up in his bloodthirst to notice him. "I'm coming; just hang in there."

He looks up as Blitz kicks him in the ribs, repeatedly with his steal-tipped-snake-skin boots.

Blitzo looked up into Striker's blown-up eyes; A bloodstained claw was outstretched towards him. The Cowboy was breathing heavily as he pried his nails out of the Agent's limp body. Before reaching down to gripping both agents by the lapels of their jacket, his eyes flashing wild with animosity, his voice rough and ragged, filled with barely kempt rage and hostility.

"If I find out that you've been sniffing around my mate again. If I smell a thread of your mortal stench on my husband or his friends again, I'm putting a blessed bullet into each of your brains" do I make myself clear!" Striker hisses.

"Blitz is mine, not the property of some owl, I'll be watching you, his tail rattles- in the darkness where you can't see me, I' ll follow you into your dreams where you can hide from me."

"And finely, If you have to fear someone, fear me cause the next time we meet, and there will be the next time if you don't adhere to my threats, my Blitzy won't be able to stop me, and you can't talk you way out of this.

"For the next time we meet my Triger finger well be poised and I'll be aiming my guns at your heads."

His tail rattles as he pulls Blitzo by their joined tails into a heated kiss, Blitzo's tail curled into a heart. Blitzo moans into the kiss as electricity bursts around them, shorting out numerous light poles and city blocks. The electricity crackled and fizzed as Striker intertwined his hands with Blitzo's just as they were about to leave, just as Agent 2 crawled her way up to her knees. She aims her gun at Blitzo's back.

The Gunshot was deflected by Striker's knife as Blitzo pulled out his flintlock aiming it at the Agent.

"Can't you stupid humans just leave me the fuck alone!" he shouts. "This is from my psychiatrist; oh boy, is she going to be pissed at you for setting her back three, fuckin, fuck-tac-ular- years of intense sessions.  

"I'm billing you people by the way, and any medical bills that I may occur, for this shit-tac-ular night!"

Striker felt a sharp pang slice his way into his chest, he knew- it wasn't all his fault that this night had gone to shit-creek.

The Outlaw knew he working against his mate's wishes, setting things up for Stolas's fall from power. Striker growls as his hand grips Blitz. They had wasted too much time here.

There are 3 varieties of vampires in universe my characters are set in.

The first being the, technically, “Daywalkers” or Upyr/Upir/Upier. They are the only breed that can walk in the sun without consequence. They’re much more harder to spot because they tend to blend in so well with humanity with the exception of their fangs which is usually two sets of three fangs. These vampires cannot turn other people into upyr/upir/upier they need to die an unnatural death or have been a werebeast prior to death and died in human form. The only way to kill one of these is to decapitation and completely burn its body to ashes.

Next is Strigoi, strigoi can turn people into other strigoi and are the most common breed of vampire. Now they can blend in pretty well but it’s the eyes that give it away. A strigoi never blinks, ever. They are limited to walking around at night for the sun causes damage to their skin and they can be killed via stake to the heart or fire, but oddly enough decapitation does not kill one. Usually have large, very sharp canines.