#whitenightfic

Everything was planned by THEIR symphony. Everything was to be ordered in place for the final concerto. And as such, every member of the Family had been given different orders. All things would fall into place according to the Dreammaster’s plan. Yours was to make sure the IPC would not interfere in the grand moment. As the head of the Oak family explained your task, you nodded in rhythm to his speech. That is what you have been taught: politeness, obedience and more than anything else, loyalty. Another sip of your sparkling water as you finally asked:

“So, who is this guest sir?”

“Our esteemed guest has been changed at the last minute. It was to be Mr. Opal, but we have been informed that it is now Mr. Aventurine.”

Another nod, no opinion to be said. The lot of the Ten Stonehearts was known: Opal or Aventurine, either would be a hassle to be around. Each with their own flaws and unique characteristics. You had secretly hoped it would have been a more docile individual like Pearl. Yet your task was quite easy compared to the one surveying the Galaxy Ranger or the Masked Fool. You had that assignment whoever it might be, and so it would be Aventurine.

You followed Sunday around the Reverie. The lights twinkled on the marble floors and the extravagant decorations. Your gaze followed the elegant clothing of the guests: from the swaying gowns to the tailored suits, everyone came to Penacony as if it was a gala. This dress code, even though not truly enacted as a rule, was one of the many ways to harmonise and all blend together. It was the same for Robin. The popstar had many options with her popularity, yet she wore the dashing white that clearly showed her relationship to Sunday. Had you been allowed, you would have told her about your admiration for her craft and her preachings. Yet you stood there, in the shadow, they were both used to the Bloodhound family protecting around and you were not different. Until she chose not to, and approached you:

“Hello, good evening, dear! I’m Robin, it’s a pleasure to meet you. I would like to thank you for your service in the Bloodhound family.”

“Thank you for serving the Family as well miss Robin, may Xipe protect you.”

Robin was about to continue the conversation but as planned, Sunday went back to talk more to her about the Charmony festival and its preparation. So you went back to your position, awaiting the scheduled time and the meeting with what would be your target.

This time, another erupted in the room, explaining agitation in the main hall by the Astral Express Crew and my target. With a reluctant sigh, Sunday stood up to go give discipline and stop the cacophony. Yet again, the fluttering popstar came along to bring some much-needed peace to her restless brother and the situation at hand.

Once arrived at the grand hall, you could notice how disorderly the place seemed. The crowd had gathered around the reception with whispers from left and right about the situation at hand: a simple check-in issue. You didn’t understand how something so simple and formal had degenerated in this capriccio to the point of this buzzing around. Sunday moved through the crowd, cutting through it with a sharp gait meanwhile Robin soared through it until you arrived at the troublemakers. The few that seemed to have created this chaos were a total of five. You immediately knew who your guest was.

You had done your research: Aventurine was a well-known individual in the high circles for his lifestyle. One that reeked of hedonism: gambling at casinos, spending time in bars and partaking in too much sexual intimacy. These were what you knew, for the moment, of him and it suited what you saw with the unrestrained use of jewellery, the scent of cologne blended with whiskey and the framed skin. All of this clearly clashed with the modest dress code. As if it was dismissived by one gloved and ringed hand. Those opinions would also be kept for yourself as it was your task to protect him. Sunday isolated you three and presented you to the gambler as a mean of protection and guidance and as planned he left for you both to better know each other. You immediately introduced yourself and gave a formal bow to which the gambler responded:

“I’ve informed the Family that I didn’t need for any sort of protection but since my cornerstone has been confiscated, I shall simply thank you. So, you’ll act as my tour guide for this adventure?”

“Indeed sir, as a member of the Bloodhound family, I will make your protection my personal mission.”

“If that’s so, care to bring me to the Nameless’ room? I need to pack a few things.”

You were the one to walk in front of him, as would any protector. Well, you tried though he kept walking beside you and he finally quipped:

“I prefer to have my conversations side by side if that’s okay with you.”

“Sir, I’m going to protect you. Conversation shouldn’t be the priority of my tasks.”

“Quit the formalities, no need to call me sir or mister. And I didn’t need any protection, so might as well enjoy the company. A tour guide is meant to talk, right?”

You firmly kept looking forward as not to roll your eyes. Though there was this annoyed expression that still appeared, to his delight. He let out a chuckle and tried to engage through diverse topics from your tastes to your opinion about the Family. To no avail, you kept quiet while walking. It was in the elevator that he took off his hat as he tried another way to approach you: talking about Penacony and the hotel, how it was previously a prison. That’s where you noticed the blond locks falling around his face and the curious mark on his neck. You couldn’t say anything about it since your task was to respond to his questions about the Reverie. Even though he made his questions to appear sometimes absurd, it made you talk. It was better than the silence he dreaded.

You both passed in the VIP lounge under the navigator’s gaze and an older gentleman, but once you arrived at the Nameless’ room you were stopped by your esteemed guest:

“Oh no need to be inside, I’ll just pack a couple things.”

“Sir—”

“No calling me sir, it’s Aventurine for you. It won’t be long. So please, go wait near the elevator, I’ll come back soon.”

You reluctantly sighed and walked to the designated area to stand there. After all, it would not be long, and the guests were the one to take seats on the different accommodations. The protection of this gentleman would be closer to negotiations than everything else it seemed. You could have told him that any other VIP guest could attack him in his room, especially since he had left the door wide open.

At this realisation, you decided to approach and be closer to the door but the Nameless had catched up to you both. The gambler and them were now chatting. The longer the conversation went, the more confused you were about this individual. Even though you were the one supposed to protect him, you saw his tone and quips as provocations. That was why you were tasked not only to protect him but also spy on him: behind the gem was the possibility of danger, intelligence interfering with the Dreammaster’s plan. After all, he was clearly more than what he seemed: he had guided the Nameless into revealing information with their own volition and tricked you into going to talk to the Nameless. Yet announcing his goal like he did seemed almost too blatant, too plain for someone like him. This type of individual had only self-serving goals, so you had to investigate that. Speaking of those, you catched the menacing tone of the gambler and approached the door to warn him but another stood up: the galaxy ranger. You stopped immediately as she had immediately defused the situation.

Once they gave each other their farewells, you rejoined your target and told him:

“This unprompted moment was a breech in protocol: the Family encourages each faction to be cordial with each other. Beside the fact that you’ve lied to me about your ongoings in this room, you have acted in a rude way si--!”

“So much for protocol. If I may, I didn’t lie to you per say, I’ve told you that I needed to pack a couple things which I did. The Nameless coming inside the room may just Lady Luck going my way. As for my conduct, it was outside of protocol, but didn’t you say conversations weren’t your priority?”

You bit your lip in annoyance as his widened in a knowing smirk. Your retort was getting ready when you finally noticed that he had taken off his rose-tinted sunglasses and what a remarkable sigh he had hiddent. Bright eyes with magenta and cyan pupils. It reminded you of THEIR gaze. Yet there was their own beauty to it: you didn’t know if it was the harmony of colours or maybe how they glowed slightly, but something had piqued your interest in them. Interest which was noticed by Aventurine as he put his glasses back on while declaring playfully:

“Now, let’s go visit the good doctor. I believe he is next to my room.”

Your opportunity to respond had been cut off by the gambler’s sharp wit and your inability to focus on your words. And a good businessman he was since he had taken that opportunity to lead you to his next goal. So, you followed in the elevator and when the door was closed, he added:

“I may be rude, but I know how to play fair and square, that’s why I’m honest when I talk.”

“Sincerity would be the best, si—Aventurine.”

“Sincerity doesn’t get you into the trade, tour guide.”

You frowned on those enigmatic words and let the silence of the elevator settle once again. This time, you decided to put yourself near the door, able to listen the conversation without seeming like a camera. From what you have gathered, the doctor was someone that seemed too intelligent to be part of any occurring faction yet too interested in pedagogy to be part of the Genius Society. That was maybe why he was refused inside it. From the conversation, you heard multiple valuable information about your target: his past as a slave confirmed but also his limbo status between life and death, so that was probably his incentive. You could note the distaste between the two: one far too light about the situation and the other too serious. Even though, they were colleagues they really seemed to clash. That would be an essential information to tell Sunday. Yet there was something in this conversation, you did not know what, but something was at odd in peculiar in the doctor’s tone in “I didn’t mean to offend”. It clashed with the earlier cold words. The gambler also noted that when Dr. Ratio had escaped the room.

You finally decided to enter the room after a few minutes. You could see some bags left carelessly here and there with the newspaper. With the echoing radio music blended the gambler’s cologne and the scent of dream syrup. You looked back at the gambler before he raised his hand with the Reverie’s brochure:

“No need to tell me all about the protocol in going to the dreamscape, already read it.”

“Thank you for doing so, si—”

“Aventurine, and no need to thank me dear guide. I had to, so you can forgive my earlier rudeness.”

“That’s not how forgiveness works.”

“Forgiveness isn’t the word than. What would make me forgiven from my sins? A drink?”

You noted the sarcasm and the offer but brushed it off with protocol:

“My guest room is next to yours; I’ll join you back at your room.”

“And I’ll be waiting for you at the lounge with two drinks!”

“Sir… Why are you being so difficult?”

“Because it brings your opinions out.”

You stopped for a moment and almost swore for how easily he was riling you. You did not say anything but exited the room to go to yours. This Charmony festival has surely been one you would remember. And you had yet to truly know what would happen.

CHAPTER 1 MAIN MENU NEXT CHAPTER >

tags : @sswrillya. @kakavshavasha, @reddenedhands

The facade of Penacony was glittery but its depths held multiple secrets. Those were the types of rumours the Family tried to hide and so did you when talking to your guest. So, you tried to be the maestro on this conversation, but he didn’t let himself to played. When you avoided the possible counterfeits of luxury products, he delved deeper into its impact of the luxury industry and the materialism of modern society. When you played dumb about SoulGlad addiction and its negative effects on health, he used his wit to prove that you weren’t as innocent as you seemed. It was pleasant in a way that you hadn’t thought before: to go beyond the forbidden subjects and taste the thoughts of others, especially someone like him. The Family and THEIR order had always told you to distance yourself from his kind of character: hedonistic, egotistical, and vain. Yet there was something ironic with those rose-tinted glasses: he didn’t see the world through those but with a sharp interest, he didn’t talk about him only and how much money he made but his interest was towards people’s lives in Penacony. And when you thought about it, he never talked about himself. Even though some people had called him a peacock, he didn’t show off to you except in those moments about how he could buy an entire store for the adrenaline. Yet it didn’t seem sincere, it was like a joke between you two on who would win this back and forth. And it was one of those until you realised that, despite him arguing the contrary, he was guiding the way to follow another guest.

As matter of fact, you were following another VIP guest. As far as you could remember, your intel had told you that she was a Masked Fools from Taikiyan. In between choosing to be Aventurine’s guard or a Masked Fool’s, the choice was easily made: Masked Fools are only pursuing their own enjoyment, there is nothing Aha does that THEY accept. From the explosion of the Astral Express to transforming a worm into an Emanator, the Family couldn’t and wouldn’t ever condone THEIR actions. They would only help those that had been dealt with the aftermaths of THEIR actions. And now that you thought about it, you couldn’t understand why your dear guest had decided to follow her, you asked:

“Mr. Aventurine, I may have been noticed that we are following another guest.”

“That’s very observant of you.”

“Oh please. But I would like to know why?”

“Ah-ah-ah! A gambler reveals his cards after the game finished to earn his winnings.”

“Mister, I’m asking regarding the guest’s security, it is vital…”

“Always about security, relax. We’re just going to chat.”

“Last time you just chatted, it wasn’t a real amicable one if I may.”

“Touché, but I would like to know, is it really just protocol that makes you wonder?”

“My personal opinions and thoughts have nothing to do with my tasks at hand.”

“But your task is also to be the best host, and it means entertaining me. So please, indulge me.”

There was a moment where you rolled your eyes and tried to look around as if to find an escape route to this trap, but he didn’t back up. The piercing neon eyes still fixed on you with his smirk. You stumbled around finding any excuses or half-truths to tell. Besides, he would have probably known since he could notice lies. There was no need to lie anyway, talking about this would not undermine THEIR plans. You casually dropped:

“The task of following that guest doesn’t seem right with the plans you told to the Nameless.”

“Oh, so you’re curious about my plans, I see. You’re sharp for a bodyguard.”

“Every bodyguard needs to be sharp to be able to protect their guests. We need to think about any encounters with our guest, their reputation, their habits, we must even keep their schedules in mind.”

And yet again, you did not notice but this back and forth had once again helped him avoid the topic of his cunning plans. If only you knew, you could have informed Sunday of his suspicions about the Family’s loyalty to THEM. You continued those casual discussions until the Masked Fools deigned address the gambler. Their conversation was one you had accepted but couldn’t condone: the blond’s origin planet was of Avgin descent, and that meant coming with all its reputation. Avgins were the ones behind every rich family, every maestro for political acts, the true masterminds behind society so only they could govern. Well, that is what everybody thought. The Family had had their suspicions but now that it was confirmed, not by one but two persons, you could relay that information to Sunday. And you discreetly did so.

Though there was something unnerving about her talking down upon your guest, how he should be treated only based on their ethnicity. The blame on him was as always, a way to oppress the weak, something THEIR realm could erase so all could live in the piece under THEIR guise. Yet, what you were more surprised were Aventurine’s reaction, or more his lack of. His eyes opened and closed with the casual smirk, added with a praise of Golden Hour as if she weren’t insulting him and his lineage. His back was straight, if not almost laid back. He accepted even his dignity being used like a toy to the Masked Fool. You secretly hoped that this was a form of decoy or bait, yet it was never confirmed. No defensive response towards remarks such this, until you noticed his arm crossed. Behind the political talk and the casualness of the conversation, there was something simmering. You took out your phone and quickly reported ack to Sunday, yet again. He could use it to talk to the gambler. You focused on your report to explain what subjects were told, your guest’s reactions. Until he came back, hands in his pockets:

“Dearest bodyguard, let’s go back roaming about town. I have so many credits to spend.”

“Mr. Aventurine, would you like me to report about the Masked Fool using discriminatory language towards you?”

“Oh, go ahead, do as you please, even better if it can give you a promotion.”

As you wrote what you masked as disciplinary report, you noticed the gambler’s arm around your shoulder. This wasn’t something he did, he never initiated contact. He seemed also shorter when in contact with you, as if he had to reach to go over your shoulder. As you pieced the puzzle together, you moved away and glared:

“Who are you?”

“Oh, why so serious little lapdog?”

That’s when your guest glowed a faint pink before transforming back into the Masked Fool. She tilted her head to the right with a mischievous expression and mocked:

“The chicken-wing boy trained you well, dearest bodyguard. It usually takes at least an hour before people realise my little game.”

“My mind has been trained to not listen to the cunning and not be led astray from THEIR sight.”

“Yeah, yeah. As boring as him.”

“Where is Mr. Aventurine?”

“Don’t worry, he’s there.”

Before you could ask any more questions, she left and the real Aventurine quipped:

“Got yourself fooled?”

“Really funny, sir. Now that I have the real Aventurine, may I ask you if I need to draft a report about their discriminatory remarks regarding you?”

“Don’t fuss about it, it’s my charm.”

“Sir, the words she used were improper regarding your people and yourself.”

“So what? She likes to use me in such manner, so be it. Let her teeter on the edge of chaos, that’s her thrill.”

As he started to walk, you couldn’t follow him. This passivity towards being treated less than normal and almost acknowledging, even encouraging it, was beyond you. THEIR goal was to help the weak in a soft nest of peace and happiness yet here he was, delving deeper into discord and accepting to be hurt. It wasn’t something logical, any bird wouldn’t accept such violence they would fight back or at least flee. Yet the peacock had standed in front of the fox, as if the bird weren’t bothered by its presence. You decided to follow and question him further:

“Mr. Aventurine, she insulted your character and your identity.”

“I’ve told you: I have heard worse, and I will hear worse.”

“But it needs to be stopped.”

“If a gambler doesn’t spend his money during an extended period, he’ll compensate by doing a reckless move at a random moment. Only to feel that sweet thrill. So, no need to stop this.”

“And what about the rumours about your character?”

“What do you believe?”

And here he was again: leading the concerto and untwisting your tongue about your opinions. Yet this time, it didn’t seem as forced as before. It was probably because this conversation had started on the premise of your opinion being spoken aloud. You continued:

“Well, your clothing habits and requirements have spoken about you.”

“Huh? Is that so?”

“Yes, but I also think that some of them are exaggerated.”

“Like?”

“Like how people say you’re seductive with everyone: you haven’t initiated anything with my person.”

“I only give and take when the other does as well. An equivalent exchange between both parties involved.”

“And about the rumours about people going in and out of your hotel suites?”

“Oh, you really believe that?”

This time, he let out a genuine laugh as he said the last line. This naiveté of yours was something he had suspected, and it was as innocent as it was endearing. He took off his glasses to put them in his jacket’s pocket as you concluded:

“You don’t bring people to your bedroom?”

“Only those willing, dear, again equivalent exchange.”

“But those who have seen you with multiple—”

“A load of cash can help simulate a lot of things dear, and that is also part of the game. When there is someone that needs money, I take the right opportunity to make it look like another one has fallen to my charms. Yet again, why so interested in that part of my reputation?”

“Do not imply certain things sir!”

“I’m just asking…”

“It’s the part of your reputation that’s the most difficult to investigate. I have already noticed your reliance on game of chances and drinking but I couldn’t investigate about that.”

“Oh, so you’ve noted all of that down already. No secrets from you, huh? You’re too intelligent for your own good, has anyone told you that?”

“I have many tools that you’re unaware of.”

“Careful, with this intelligence of yours, you might end up being dragged into something you wouldn’t have otherwise.”

“I have enough intelligence to know sir. But do not worry, my intellect will only serve THEIR quest for harmony.”

“I thought their hymns dealt about not being prideful?”

“The peacock is talking about hymns of humility now?”

“But I acknowledge my vain nature. Speaking of hymns, would it be possible for you to contact the Family? I would like to have a conversation with Miss Robin. You see I haven’t had a conversation with her and since she is the other face of the Charmony festival, I do want to introduce myself to her as well.”

You took out your phone and managed to get a meeting between the two. Even though, you suspected that the gambler wasn’t fully honest behind this reasoning either, you only could discover his plans by following them. Yet what you hadn’t noticed were many, despite your intellect: the double meaning of his conversation with Sparkle but most of all, how he was surprised that you had cared about him being insulted. You hadn’t noticed the twitch in his smile as you asked to report the discrimination, neither did you hear that his laugh earlier was full of honesty. It was something he hadn’t let out in a long while, but you did make it happen. You had bought some warmth long forgotten.

<CHAPTER 2 MAIN MENU NEXT CHAPTER >

tags : @sswrillya. @kakavshavasha, @reddenedhands

“So long, friend. I really am looking forward to uncovering the truth about Death with everyone.”

And just like that, the Nameless had entered his game. It seemed almost too easy how it follows his decisions. If he were truly the sinner Sunday had told you about, why would THEY let him interfere in the dream? Now you were the one doubting the whole of it. He gave you a gentle nudge:

“Oh, come on, friend, worry does not look good on you. Let’s go have some more fun while they all chat about my proposition.”

“You seem quite relaxed for someone who witnessed death and is planning to overthrow the Harmony.”

“But I’m not going to do that, dear, I just want to see what secrets lies behind this dreamscape if it is truly possible to die here. And to be honest with you…”

And in a matter of seconds, he wrapped an arm around your waist, gloved hand brushing off. You could smell his fragrance: spiced, ambergris with a hint of citrus. His signature smirk returned as you looked utterly confused and he continued:

“I’m absolutely terrified.”

You pushed him away with a stern as he laughed at your embarrassment. He flicked a coin in his ringless hand, one of his many ways to hide his fidgeting, before correcting himself:

“You know I was almost honest, right there?”

“About you being terrified?”

“No, no” he chuckled “About you looking worried. What has my bodyguard looking all thoughtful?”

“All of this”

As you pointed towards the surrounding dreamscape, and unconsciously to Sunday’s birds, you looked back to Aventurine. You could not understand how he could always appear nonchalant as if everything were one of his games. His smirk became more sincere as he brushed off your waist:

“Worried about Death and its consequences ion the dreamscape, huh? Not abnormal for someone settled with the Harmony to dislike Chaos.”

“Aventurine, this isn’t about games.”

“I’m just stating a fact. Yet right now, it isn’t like you have a choice. Hell is one decision away from heaven. Either you act or you only get passed from player to player. At my side, even though you’re only a passive one, you’re still a player.”

“This wasn’t supposed to happen. The dream was designed by THEIR hand, how can something as astounding take beings? THEY are supposed to be overpowerful, to keep all together…”

“Maybe THEY aren’t as powerful as you thought.”

You snapped your head towards him, you wanted to tell how this reeked of blasphemy, but you could not because deep down, it was not. And it was terrifying. Everything that was reassuring, everything that you knew was crumbling under those nine little words. All this situation with ‘Death’ would not have happened under THEIR and the Oak family’s protection, all would have gone as planned by THEIR order. If only the universe was as simple as that.

You settled at the bar counter of Siobhan’s bar, she asked the both of you:

“Good day! It’s rare to see you here! And who is this?”

“I am under duty, Siobhan.”

“Fine, fine. Just tell me what drinks he wants.”

“Risky Sour?” you asked, knowing now his habits.

“I would like ‘A ticket to the boneyard,’ please” He answered.

“Feeling a little morbid today? Sure sir!”

You looked back at Aventurine in bewilderment; he only owed you a wink as he took off his glasses. Then he put his hat and coat on a stool next to him. You didn’t catch it right away but his other hand was texting the Nameless and bribing them. Then he watched as Siobhan created the drinks: mixing one liquid into another, shaking it; Finally, she poured it into a large glass, with a slice of lemon and orchid stirrer; she declared:

“Here is ‘A ticket to the boneyard,’ to the dead and the dying! May this sweet dream never come to an end!”

As the words echoed through your mind, they had a bittersweet taste on your tongue: previously, you would have dismissed Siobhan’s sarcasm yet in quite some time you understood their cynical judgment of the dream. This place had been featured and showed to the galaxy as the safest place, an oasis for any traveller along the cosmos yet it was not. This creature, something unto Death, was a proof of all the mysteries held behind it. You knew that THEY would be revived by the Oak Family, but you did not know how or when. Your job was only to follow your orders, THEIR words but were those words truly holy? Weren’t there a way to hide what was truly behind the ritual and the so-called paradise? Siobhan had rebelled against the Family to find her own path, you had only followed orders, what they called THEIR order. And in perspective, it was terrifying: what melded your life is a lie, a one so intoxicating and exquisite that you followed it until now.

Your ears perked up at the familiar song and voice. You raised your head to the TV in a corner. You did not understand what was on the screen: Robin was doing some dance practices on the screen with a few dancers and the coach. You frowned because she was not supposed to be here, and for a fraction of second you saw some red flash behind here. You finally understood: the Masked Fool had replaced her. Yet it did not seem right: why would the Oak Family accept a Fool to take place of the idol? How could they lie again to the public? You stared at the blinking red dot as you realised how easily you have fallen for each and every lie.

The gambler did not interact for the moment; you remained in the corner of his eye as he sipped on his drink. There was not any calculated malice, no, in a twisted way he understood you: to be wrapped in a system so tightly was painful. He had broken out of a system to go in another, yet he saw in you something he wanted to have so much: opportunity. In those few moments where you had showed yourself, he knew you were a good person, and he wanted to help but could not free you. So, he tried but in his own way:

“My dear bodyguard, I am the one with the morbid drink. Are you still stressed out by this mess?”

“Well, that was an easy read…”

“I’ll admit it, it’s easy to see how mortified you are. If you’d drink, I’d buy you one but since you don’t, I won’t force it.”

“Thank you, speaking of drink, why choose this one?”

“I thought that it was a little ironic, a zest on our situation.”

“I’m reconsidering all my life decisions and you’re taking a drink after you saw someone disappear…” You face-palmed.

“Why are you reconsidering your life choices?”

You turned to face him, surprised by his question. Another proof that he wasn’t as shallow as everyone, even himself, painted him to be. This time, there was not any mocking tone nor any teasing, he was all but sincere. The cards were on the table, he was leaned towards you, with not his sly smirk but a soft one. There was something almost disarming about this expression, one you did not usually see from the gambler. And so, you explained, tripping and falling on your words:

“I’ve been promised this place to be a paradise, an oasis where all could be happy. But it isn’t… I…I don’t know what to do… I’ve been lied to my whole life.”

“That explains why you seem more affected than other members of the Bloodhound family.”

“Yeah, I can’t understand what the truth is and what wasn’t. I’m scared to know if the dream I’ve followed all along was also a lie.”

The gambler nodded and ordered, to Siobhan’s dismay, a Soulglad. As the golden liquid poured with the orange bubbles, he asked:

“You’ve never asked what you were doing?”

“No because it was what seemed right, and everything fell into places the right way, but I don’t know what I truly did.”

Aventurine did not immediately respond to you; he took a sip of the Soulglad. The citrusy liquid bringing its wave of calmness and memories. He finally added:

“Now you have more power though.”

“What?”

“You’re able to see the cards and question their moves. Not being into blind belief is already a feat. You can now make your own moves.”

“To do what?”

“To realise your own dream, the one you thought they had. It’s rare to have that opportunity.”

There was something different in his tone, as if knowing of this situation even envying it. How could he not? He had been traded in one system to the other to try and finally be free, yet grief was the toughest to get out. Yet he did not know about getting out of grief, he was only angry at the universe and its system. So how could he not envy you, the one with the perfect opportunity to finally be free? There was also something close to nostalgy, perhaps a feeling indulged by Soulglad, but he closed his eyes:

“It’s strange how we grew up and are melded by those systems while before there were only dreams…”

“Childhood does sound nice, now that I think about it.”

“Running around aimlessly, dreaming about even greater times… Dreaming about just being there…”

As you noticed the repetitions in his words and his speech becoming sluggish, you realised that the Soulglad had started to take effect on him. The gambler had now hazy visions as he slurred:

“I had someone, can’t remember her name, a relative I think… Yeah, a relative… She was older than me, but she kept dreaming, dreaming about better times…I admired her for still dreaming… I wish I could have…”

But his thoughts got lost in the sea of memories. The sadness halted by the Soulglad and the alcohol. You helped him stay steady on his stool but continued the conversation:

“I wish I could’ve met her;”

“She would have loved you…”

You helped the gambler lean down to sleep on the bar counter. You had helped many like him to settle the effects of Soulglad, fools drowning themselves in memories to stir away regrets. Though, this time he seemed more approachable in this instant. There were no hard lines on his face, nor sly smirk only this peaceful energy. And added to this, from your angle, you could not see the scar on his neck. It was as if he had not been touched by his difficult past. So, you sat next to him like that, observing his serene expression as he drifted off in the dreams of memories. Even if it was one superficial induced by the golden drink, you let him feel at peace just this once. You did not know but this rare moment was one few where he could have memories come to him that did not echo screams and blood on his hands. The Soulglad had reclaimed the original purpose of dreams: to comfort him.

Yet this peace was broken by a male voice:

“Finally found him…”

“Doctor, it’s an honour to meet you.”

At first, he did not react. His eyes went from you to the gambler’s peaceful sleep, you could feel how behind the cold façade there was something else, but you could not really tell. Even if the doctor’s acting was not as on point as Aventurine’s, he had to play this bitter role: to act as revolted by the gambler as possible even if he felt the contrary towards him. Ratio would have preferred to be a force as his side, yet he had to play their strategy, to follow the Oak family as a mole. But you did not know, you were not yet aware of Aventurine’s modus operandi. And you clenched your teeth when the cold words escaped Ratio’s lips:

“Mr. Sunday wants to interrogate the gambler. He needs to stop his nap.”

The words were forced from Ratio’s mouth, as if he wanted to be a part of those mind games in Penacony. Even you had just been made aware of them. And this fragile peace that the Soulglad had given Aventurine would, to your displeasure, be one in a long time.

CHAPTER 4 MAIN MENU NEXT CHAPTER >

tags : @sswrillya. @kakavshavasha @reddenedhands

The Dream was the most secure place in the universe, wasn’t it? You knew it while passing through the streets with your guest, greeting members of the Bloodhound family on the way. It earnt you a chuckle or two from your guest. There was something reassuring about knowing that you were also under your family’s, the Family’s protection, and THEIR gaze. Even though Penacony could seem like a land where the abundance of pleasure and unending parties could be heard, all would be done in safety. No pain, no fractures no discord. It was a golden dream all wished to be in. This way why it was a paradise.

Your guest took off his glasses to look out at the city skylight before asking:

“Why did Miss Robin not stay in Penacony? It seemed like a good stage, with the Iris family specialised in entertainment…”

 “Her reasons are personal, Mr. Aventurine, but if I had to guess she wanted to fly on her own and unite everyone under her songs.”

“This sounds like some marketing to my ears…” He quipped as he approached with that mischievous glint.

“This is only her words; she is someone as honest as she can be. She is a true preacher of THEIR voice.”

“To the point of hurting her voice, it seems…”

You didn’t reply by voice but a simple nod, and it was everything for him to understand. After all, the members of The Family weren’t used to lie, and you were no different. Robin’s voice wasn’t just hoarse, and you had confirmed it, with a simple nod. He inquired next:

“What about Mr. Sunday ?”

“He stayed to take part of the responsibility of Penacony. He felt a calling from THEM.”

Another lie but by omission, and you were oh so easily read. It was the shining eyes went elsewhere, as if to see what to fabricate, or the way your lips twitched as if afraid to speak. You were only confirming his suspicions behind the veil of the Family was something bigger at hand, he only had to put the pieces back together. Yet as if the conversation flowed naturally between you two, he asked:

“And you?”

You frowned, surprised by this interest in you. Though you knew he tried to take you out of your shell, this time it didn’t seem forced. It was unlike him, open. Was it because you were the only two on the rooftop? You couldn’t quite tell but unlike the times he caught your opinions out of your mouth, you responded honestly:

“I also had a calling of my own. Penacony also seemed like my own. I like being here, it is secure, it’s a home.”

Your eyes flicked on the sky almost reminiscent of THEIR gaze, and you added:

“But I can’t argue that I’m curious what’s out there. I’ve heard tales of Thalassa’s clear waters or Belobog’s snow. And what about you Aventurine? What sent you on working for the IPC and roaming the universe?”

“A gamble.”

“Of course, it would be a gamble with you.” You laughed aloud.

“Oh, but I’m serious, my friend, it was one roll of the dice that set me on this path. Well and maybe a few schemes here and there...” He winked with a flick of a coin.

You rolled your eyes, yet there was a hint of sincerity. This conversation didn’t feel orchestrated by his or THEIR hand, as if it were just there to take and embrace. He eyed the members of the Bloodhound family:

“And your task as the member of the great Bloodhound family, even though you’re personally assigned by the Oak, are there any risks and thrills?”

“To be honest, not much. The most we get is helping drunks come back from their Soulglad coma. It tends to bring back the past with all the memoria brewing in the air.”

“Oh really, huh? So, no chasse scenes on those rooftops nor interesting investigations?”

“No, no. My life, here, is secure. Penacony is my home, my nest, not a place for danger.”

“Sounds boring to me. You’re always under their eyes no matter what you do.”

“It isn’t as bad as you make it sound.”

“If you’re thinking about going elsewhere, that means you’re at least a little bored. Think about it: there’s always a stellaron roaming on each planet, factions competing in the war of the Aeons or if you prefer a little less cosmic, the Luminary wardance festival from the Xianzhou ? That’s a festival!”

“True, true… It does sound nice.”

Your train of thought was interrupted by a buzzing on your phone: Robin had arrived at the Hotel lounge. You gestured for Aventurine to follow you. As you surveyed along the way, you could feel something in the memoria had shifted:  Aventurine’s voice echoed differently, the colours shifted in a strange way as if drifting pigments in water, while corridors seemed unending. There were multiple possibilities for the disturbance in it so finding it immediately would be in vain. You sent your observation to a member of the Nightingale family, hoping they could work on it the fastest possible. Yet they responded that there weren’t interferences from their side. You could not add to the conversation since your guest was approaching Miss Robin.

And there it was. As fast as a blink. A shape of purple curling around the diva before stabbing hair. The memoria spilled on the floor, drips of tear-like liquid. Without a second, you made yourself a shield before Aventurine, but the creature only stared. The deep saturated eyes staring back as if able to cause nightmares to the insomniac. There was something uncanny, to the point of making your vision hazy. Until it had fully disappeared and the singer dissolved into soap bubbles.

You were about to ask how Aventurine was but got interrupted by other members of the Bloodhound family. They all rushed to see what had happened. You bit your lip as you wanted to ask how your guest was but couldn’t, so you reported back to Sunday and the nightingales. Conversations flowed left and right on what to do, to say before anyone could hear the catastrophe. You quickly caught what was happening, and it was easy to create their train of thoughts: Aventurine was the one who wanted to meet her, he was the one that had set up the meeting and he was the one who last saw her. The words didn’t feel right but here they were spoken prime suspect. And you would be his alibi, a compromising position if he had done anything to Robin, yet it could not you had seen him all day. The ripples of suspicions meddled with the ones of attachment you had developed.

He would have to be interrogated by Sunday but for now, you had to go back to the Reverie. There was a long pause during the walk. How could you speak? You had just saw the superstar Robin been evaporated? You didn’t even know if she was alive or dead. Was Death even possible in the dreamscape?

“You’re alright?” The gambler asked, looking at you beyond his glasses.

“Yes sir. I was thinking of what just happened.”

“Do you know what that thing was? Death?”

“That information are confidential, sir. I am not allowed to speak to you about it, especially with you being the prime suspect.”

“Welcome back to protocol, I guess…”

“Sir! This isn’t only a question about protocol or not! It is a life-or-death situation! Miss Robin is in an unknown situation!”

“Relax, friend. It seems I am clueless as you are. Besides, you saw me. I have always been under your watch, so I can’t be your prime suspect. Can I?”

You bit your lip before letting your thoughts slip up again. This wasn’t time for anymore chit-chat, but you wanted to tell him how you knew he wasn’t your suspect, how it all seemed off, how you had felt its presence before it arrived. You wanted to brainstorm with him, tell him the things that you knew about THEIR control and onto your theories about this thing. You blindly refused for your loyalty’s sake. Your guest excused himself to his room, probably to wind down.

You needed it too so went to the VIP lounge, and, to the barman’s disappointment, you ordered sparkling water. Siobhan teased you to argue that it was at best spiced water. Yet it was better than ordering tape, even worse at the bar. You wouldn’t understand what had happened in the laps of half an hour: the superstar had just dissolved into bubbles after being stabbed. It wasn’t possible, in the Dream all were safe, THEIR protection would ensure that. How? This simple word stopped you from drinking that next sip of water. How could a dead Aeon keep the entire dreamscape alive and well? And here it was, unknowingly, that simple opening that the gambler had made in your heart was enough to create doubt. You grumbled on your spot about this situation again and again.

Yet something you dreaded appeared on your watch: cease of activity between Aventurine’s pod and the dreamscape.

Without a word, you ran towards his room. Was it that creature that got him? Was it a simple malfunction between the memoria?

Another alert.

It wasn’t a bug, it was real. You bolted up the stairs, floor one, floor two, each one skipping your heartbeat as you finally arrived on the sixth.

Another alert.

You were almost maniacal as you went through the crowd screaming about security and danger. Erupted in the bedroom as you saw him in the dream pool, you pulled him out of it screaming:

“What are you doing ?!”

“Looks like you’ve been alerted by the security system, that’s—”

“That’s not my question! I have received three alerts on my watch! What have you been doing ?!”

“Come on, friend! I’m here!”

“Answer me Aventurine!”

“I was just testing out theorises about Death in the dreamscape.”

“Theories? You’ve been drowning yourself just to test something?”

“Well, how was I supposed to know if they were real?”

He raised his hand as if it were the most obvious thing to do. You let go of his costume; you did not catch if it was from the sheer shock or the absurdity of his statement. How could anyone go to this extreme? You yelled back:

“Don’t do that ever again!”

“Of course, of course, now that I have my answer.”

“No, Aventurine, don’t ever do that again. Even if you have theories, I want you to talk rather than… By the Harmonious Choir… Talk!”

“It was easier for this—”

“I don’t care about your theory! I care about you and your life!”

And there was a silence between you at this moment, as you both realised what you had just said and its implications. Aventurine tried to veil his confusion under his playful smirk, yet you could see that this had affected him: there was something deep and melancholic in his eyes, his tiredness barely showing itself. He stood up from the dream pool and simply sighed:

“Good friend, what an amicable collaboration.”

You were about to respond something back because communication was key in THEIR words to obtain resolution, yet his eyes said something else. For once, his eyes were more important than THEIRS. You wanted this sadness to drift away in the dream and if that meant not talking about this topic, so be it. You shifted in place before asking:

“What will be our next step?”

“Oh, so you want to follow my theories now?”

“I want to make sure you don’t risk yourself again, and if it means following your plans then I’ll do it.”

You followed him outside your room, unaware of what was ahead of his plans and what you swore to see. What you had experienced in mere minutes, you would ago in a long terrible agony so that all could see what he had deciphered. As you descended the stairs, he bluntly explained:

“I will lie to the Nameless.”

“I beg your pardon?”

“I will tell them that ‘Death’ is the Ranger’s doing.”

“But we don’t know yet if…”

“Truth isn’t important in this game, my dear, but how you use it. I have an ace, why not keep it?”

“Aventurine, it would be easier to collaborate with everyone than keep it to yourself.”

“The stronger is your hand, the more you defend it. I’ll teach you to play, dear.”

As if a grinning cat, he winked back at you through the glasses. There was something strange, almost thrilling to know that you weren’t entirely in THEIR hands anymore. You were now able to move on from those preaching and explore for yourself. Maybe there was more to THEIR dream, to this cage of dreams and memoria.

And what was only doubt will blossom in blasphemy.

<CHAPTER 3 MAIN MENU NEXT CHAPTER >

tags : @sswrillya. @kakavshavasha @reddenedhands