The Devil Tips His Hat To Me

He opened his eyes. Would he die here? There wasn’t much for him here, but it was terrifying to think he would die. He had no idea what was on the other side. Was there nothing? Would he stop existing forever?

His chest spasmed and he coughed so hard snot bubbled out of his nose, tears leaking down his cheeks. He shivered and huddled tighter under his blanket.

He was so scared. It wasn’t fair. He knew that this day would come sooner rather than later. Like he was one of those doomed characters in the sad stories the older slaves would tell. The ones who fought their fate, but fell to it anyway.

He sniffled, wondering if there would be stories about him. Probably not. The only other person he was close to in this whole world was a semi-mute slave child who looked about as close to the grave as Ichimaru did. It was a shame. Ichimaru knew he looked quite striking under all the dirt. He would be a good character in a story.

He was distracted by those thoughts by a shuffling at the small door that lead to he quarantine room Ichimaru was staying in.

He looked over to see wide eyes, dirty skin, and long brown hair framing a skeletal face.

The young teen, Souka, crawled in and came to sit by Ichimaru, tears already welling in his eyes.

“I’m fine,” Ichimaru said, a smile coming easily to his face. “You shouldn’t be in here. You’ll get sick again.”

“I got you sick,” Souka rasped in a whisper, the scars on his throat jumping with the movement of his speech. “I want to help.” His lips kept moving to say like you helped me but his voice gave out. Ichimaru was used to reading Souka’s lips, though, so the message was not lost on him.

Ichimaru relaxed. He had comforted Souka when he was sick, sure that his little friend would die in those long sick nights, but Souka pulled through. Of course he would want to help Ichimaru the same way, though Ichimaru was sure it was not for the same reasoning. Souka was too relaxed. He had no idea Ichimaru was going to die. Ichimaru couldn’t stomach seeing Souka’s hope fade. It was his death day, but he wouldn’t tell his friend that. He was allowed to be selfish today of all days.

Souka got onto the pathetically thin pallet and under the blanket, wrapping his arms around Ichimaru to share his body heat. Ichimaru immediately felt overheated, but he put an arm around Souka in turn, taking comfort in the touch.

“I think I can-” get you more food tomorrow.

“You don’t have to,” Ichimaru said gently. “That’s very kind of you.”

Souka huffed. He cuddled closer to Ichimaru and the older teen sighed, closing his eyes. Souka would be the one to hear his final words. What did he even want to say? What could he say to try and keep Souka’s hopes up after he was gone.

“Do you want a story?”

Souka nodded against his chest.

“Good.” Ichimaru paused, covering his mouth and coughing painfully hard. He wipe his hand on the blanket before Souka could see the specks of blood that came up. “Remember the day we met?”

Souka nodded again. You named me. He mouthed, a faint whisper behind the movements.

“Yes. I named you. I still can’t believe you hadn’t heard the story of the hero Souka before we met.”

Souka cleared his throat, wincing in pain, and rasped, “The Slave Freer.”

“The Slave Freer,” Ichimaru echoed warmly. “He was like us, once. Getting sick, sneaking extra food for friends, working his butt off for the masters during the day. Just like you.”

Souka nodded excitedly and Ichimaru was surprised. In the past when he had told this story, there had always been doubt in Souka’s eyes. But now, he seemed eager to drink up and believe every word that Ichimaru spoke. Ichimaru had a sinking feeling in his stomach beyond the emptiness and nausea.

“He promised he would get free, and when he was strong, he would be back to free the slaves. And he kept his word, coming back and freeing all of the slaves, holding back the masters while they all escaped. He gave his life for their futures. The others are afraid to-” Ichimaru broke off, coughing hard into his hand again, knocking Souka off of his chest with his seizing.

Souka put a hand on Ichimaru’s chest, worry and fear in his eyes. Ichimaru forced himself to recover quickly, laughing weakly. “Sorry. Umm…. Oh the others are afraid to speak of him. They’re afraid to hope that there is a way out.”

Souka nodded, settling back in. “Like Old Jassy.”

“Yes, like Old Jassy.”

Jassy shut down any talk of Souka, hope, or freedom. She thought that it was cruel to give any of the slaves hope, instead focusing on the joy they had where they were, few and far between it may be. She had been very angry when she found out Ichimaru had give the name Souka to his previously nameless friend.

“And one day, Souka, I know you will be better than him. You will get out and you will free everyone here. And you’ll do even better than the first Souka. You will live to see it all! Maybe you’ll even end slavery!”

Souka’s eyes seemed to glow at the idea, putting his heart and soul into believing it for the first time since Ichimaru had known him. “And you will be there with me. I can’t do it without you.”

Ichimaru smiled, trying to keep the pain and sadness out of his eyes. “Yes. I will be with you, every step of the way.” Even if that was only in spirit. There had to be something after death. He needed to be there for Souka, even if it was in an intangible way.

Souka hummed and closed his eyes. Ichimaru put a hand on Souka’s head and said, “Good night.”

Souka nodded, mouth moving, but Ichimaru couldn’t see what he said.

Ichimaru waited until Souka had relaxed, his chest moving smoothly and calmly before he blew out a sigh, closing his own eyes.

He was so scared. He could feel death settling in, taking his limbs. He could feel it’s cold breath on his face. He was so scared. He was so terrified and he didn’t want to go. He wanted to live. He had to take care of Souka. He had to make sure he didn’t lose hope.

Ichimaru was still so full of hope himself. He needed to believe there was something better for him. This couldn’t be the end. His life had been so unfair. This couldn’t be it!

Silent tears made their way down his cheeks, but he didn’t even have the energy to wipe them away.

He was cold. His chest hurt. He was fading. He was scared. It was too much! It was too fast! He should have said more. He should have told Souka he loved him! Ichimaru should have told him he was dying. He should have given Souka a proper chance to say goodbye!

His breathing was getting shallower and shallower, his vision leaving him, and just as he felt the fear and pain would consume him and make him mad just before death, a small voice seemed to whisper to him, dispelling all of the fear and anguish.

Come, Ichimaru. Come home. He will not be left alone. He will be loved. You have done what you can.

Ichimaru’s last breath came out as a sigh of relief as the pain and regret left him, and he did as the voice asked.

…………………………………………………

Souka opened his eyes, becoming aware before becoming fully awake. He was sore and cold. Ichimaru was…..

Souka sat up quickly in the darkness, reaching for the old mage light kept in the quarantine room, tapping it to turn it on again.

Ichimaru’s glassy eyes stared blankly ahead, limbs stiff and cold.

Souka stared down at the body, uncomprehending and terrified.

He shook Ichimaru and his heart dropped. No! This couldn’t be happening! He sobbed, hand on Ichimaru’s chest. He began mouthing quickly, but his voice wouldn’t come. It wouldn’t voice what he desperately needed to say. This wasn’t fair! It’s not fair! He knew Ichimaru was fragile, he knew that he got sicker quicker than anyone else. He knew he should have pushed him out of the quarantine room when he came to cuddle with Souka when he was sick.

Souka threw back his head and wailed in anguish, the sound stuttering, airy, and broken. He had killed his best friend! He had killed his brother! The person who had given him a name, a purpose, and a hope was dead! He was gone forever and he left Souka behind.

Souka bowed over Ichimaru’s body, pressing his head into Ichimaru’s stiff chest. He had dared to hope, dared to believe Ichimaru’s words as though that would help him recover. As though his hope would be enough to get Ichimaru through this and protect him. As if it would protect Souka from the sorrows he had been faced with in his whole life.

He sobbed loudly, clutching at Ichimaru’s ragged clothing, begging him to come back.

“I can’t-” do this on my own! I can’t! PLEASE.

Old Jassy found him hours later when the supervisors noticed he was missing, curled around a corpse staring blankly at the wall. She sighed, rolling up her sleeves in preparation to peel him off of the one person who had well and truly loved him in his entire life.

VTB Part 14 - Coming soon

Kelli just wanted to be out on the lake, crossing it to get to the gnome settlement where he could trade for their beautiful fabrics. He wanted to see his mother and laugh with his aunts. He wanted to play stupid wrestling games with his uncles and then watch as they were all beaten by their wives in the same game.

He wasn’t supposed to be out here. He was supposed to be home, working at a craft, thinking about who he wanted to marry. He had taken to a human healer who had been looking for an excuse to settle down in the area….

Now he would never see her again.

There was a shock wave of movement through the troops that let Kelli in his numb state know that the front lines had found an enemy. He drew out his sword, though he didn’t know what he was going to do with it, and between one blink and the next he was in the middle of the fight, panting for air, a cut on his arm, and blood dripping down his sword.

On instinct, he raised his sword to meet the next enemy, trying to shout, but his throat already felt shredded. What was going on? Where was he? Why-

He felt something hit him hard from behind, sending him to his knees just as an arrow stuck itself deep in the throat of what appeared to be an orc that had been coming to fight him. When had the orc tribes joined the war?

Pain radiated from his back, and he reached back to find a stick poking out from just above his hip. He’d been shot! Some idiot with an Elven bow had shot him!

An elf from the Southern Forests came running, upon seeing him in the blood mixed mud. “I’m coming!” the raven haired elf called. “Stay there!”

Kelli watched in shock as the elf slid to a stop on his knees by Kelli, a hand on his shoulder and the other around where the arrow poked out of his flesh. “You’re alright. We’re not leaving you. You’re going to be fine. It looks worse than it is.”

Kelli stared at him uncomprehendingly as the elf stood up. “I’ll be right back, I-”

There was a sickening fleshy sound as a scimitar slid through the raven haired elf and out through his ribs.

His smile vanished, replaced by a stricken expression before he slumped over the metal. The orc behind him dumped him off his sword with a laugh.

Kelli was stirred from his stupor, feeling quite like he had slammed back into his body as the orc approached him next, bloodied scimitar in hand.

Kelli tried to scramble back, but he couldn’t even get back a yard before the orc grabbed him by his white hair, pulling him up and placing the blade at his throat.

Kelli braced himself to die, sending farewells to everyone he loved and telling Bettel he was coming now, when the orc laughed again, lowering his sword and tramping through the mud and bodies toward the orc war encampment.

Kelli cried out in anguish, finding that he feared living more than he did dying now. He had heard the stories of how the orcs treated their prisoners of war, and now he was going to have to find out if those stories were true.

Kelli found himself envying the black haired elf laying dead in the field as he was taken prisoner by the enemy.

VTB Part 11 - Coming soon

The Price of War Masterlist

The Price of war: @fleur-a-whump @percy-frayer @starsick1979 @hellodecisionparalysis @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

Kitsen opened up a door that led to the connected rooms where his friends stayed. He was glad they had agreed to stay with him here in the court. He would have gone crazy if he couldn’t just go find them when he needed to vent about the inane nonsense he’d been forced to care about since becoming King. He was still glad to be King, it was what he always wanted and had worked toward, but he wished he had been able to prepare for it more. He’d done the best he could, but with so much of it locked behind the queen’s own doors, it had been impossible to really be prepared for the work he had to do.

In a year this would all be worth it. He would be fine in a year. He would have it all worked out and then it would just be a matter of maintaining it. He could do that.

He knocked gently on the closed door that led to Damien’s room. Damien should be in there, since it was closed. He waited a moment before frowning and knocking again.

“Damien?” he called gently. He winced as he realized Damien might be asleep. He took a step back, sharp disappointment in his throat as he walked down to Duulan’s room.

He didn’t have to knock with Duulan. He had at the beginning of their relationship, but it had been a long time since Duulan told him to stop doing that and just come in, even if he was changing or sleeping.

Kitsen opened the door, breathing out a heavy sigh. “Duulan? Are you awake? I-”

Someone slammed the door as he was most of the way through it, catching his wing between the door and the frame.

He screamed out, the bones in his phalanges breaking under the pressure and his membrane tearing as he tried to jerk his wing out.

Someone leapt at him, grabbing his horns to drag him down violently.

He lashed out, his clawed fingers catching in flesh as he threw them off. Someone latched onto him from behind and he grabbed them, throwing them off his back. He finally wrenched his wing from the door and faced his attackers, getting a proper look at them.

The two were more animalistic fae, tiger like and very angry. Kitsen had caught one in the ribs, blood leaking down his side. The wound was deep, Kitsen knew, but the two fae, likely siblings, were being propelled by adrenaline and rage, and it always took a while for a wound to stagger a fae.

Kitsen bared his sharp teeth, his fangs proudly on display as he crouched. “Think carefully about what you do next,” he hissed. “I will not tolerate assassins in my palace.”

The tigers snarled in unison, tails lashing, before the dove for him again, forcing him to defend himself on both sides as they came at him from two different angles.

Still, he was bigger than them, and even through the pain, he could hold his own with his hands and his wings. He could ignore the pain himself.

The wounded tiger was beginning to flag, gasping for air and letting his sibling take on the main attacks.

Kitsen landed a back handed swipe to the sibling, slicing gashes deep into their face.

The tigers fell back into the bedroom, hissing and growling as Kitsen drew himself up to his full height. He lifted a hand, preparing to cast a binding spell he had learned from his studies in the magic arts of the rulers of the courts, when the injured tiger yowled and Kitsen heard something outside the door.

“Help!”

Kitsen froze as a yelp of pain came from the same voice. He whipped around and opened the door, staring out at what was going on.

A fae with gilded paper wings grinned at him, her hair falling over her eyes so he couldn’t see them. “Sorry to bother you, highness,” she said, tightening her elbow around Damien’s dark throat, his silvery eyes wide with fear as he struggled against the headlock, twisted where she held his wrists down at his hips in one hand. “But perhaps we could have a civilized conversation.

Kitsen bared his teeth at her. “Civilized!? You call this civilized!?” Still, he didn’t move another step, terrified of what she might do to Damien, who had already been through more than enough as a slave in this terribly upside down court.

“Oh, yes. Mm, so it’s true you care about humans. I felt that you would, but it is strange for one such as yourself to be worried about someone like him. Sure, he is beautiful, and I have never seen a human with freckles like metal shards in their face, but I don’t mind killing him, do I make myself clear?”

“You kill him, and there is nothing I won’t do to make sure you suffer for 15 years before you die,” Kitsen seethed.

She clicked her tongue, raising her elbow so Damien choked and had to stand on his tiptoes to breath. “But I could hurt him, couldn’t I.”

She had him. There was nothing Kitsen could do. It must have shown in his face how defeated he was as she threw back her head a laughed before looking back at him.

“Kneel.”

He hesitated, for only a moment before he dropped to his knees.

She dropped her elbow and Damien gasped in a breath, tears clumping his white eyelashes together. “No! Kitsen, don’’t-”

“Shut it,” the fae hissed in his ear before nipping at it, causing him to yelp as her sharp teeth drew blood. “Anything you do to annoy me will be met with pain, too. You will both do exactly as I say, understand me?”

Kitsen nodded numbly and Damien drew in a shuddery breath.

“Good. I am Minerva. And I am going to be the queen of the Autumn Courts. Ly! Ty!”

The tiger siblings came out, the injured one breathing raggedly.

“Mistress, Ty is injured,” Ly said softly. “May we go find a healer.”

“If he can find one, he can. You are going to bind our King and escort him to my rooms. I will need to play with him tonight to finish planning out how I will announce myself as Queen. I have to outdo him, at least. He’s made it difficult, though, what with the way he took the Queen’s head off in court.”

Kitsen growled low in his chest as Ly nodded, making sure Ty could walk before grabbing him by a horn to make sure he didn’t skewer them while they reached for his wrist.

Kitsen stared directly at Damien, trying to tell him it would be fine. He would find a way out and he would not let any harm come to the white haired human.

He caught a glimpse of movement behind Minerva and felt his spirits rise as he guessed who was approaching silently from behind, keeping his eyes locked on Damien’s.

Just as Minerva opened her mouth to make demands that Ly go faster, a heavy statuette came down on her head and she crumpled.

Kitsen overpowered Ly and drove his horns through their guts, shaking Ly hard, sending their body flying to smack into a wall as they spasmed and cried out piteously.

Kitsen got up, stumbling to where Duulan, his pumpkin headed servant and best friend, was helping Damien up, hugging him and telling him it would be alright.

“Damien! Are you hurt?” Kitsen asked, pulling Duulan and the human into a hug.

Damien nodded, swallowing hard. “I’m fine.”

“No, you’re not! You’re bleeding!”

“It’s just a scratch on my ear. You’re bleeding too!”

Kitsen was very uninterested in the bleeding scratches on his neck and back where the tigers had tried to hang onto him. “It’s fine. Did they hurt you? Did she crush your throat at all? Can you still breathe? This is all my fault! I should have brought Putac and Leor and had them go where you went. I-”

“Kitsen!” Duulan said soothingly, letting go of Damien and grabbing Kitsen’s face. “Relax. It’s fine. Where else are you hurt?”

“I-My wing. I think it’s broken.”

Duulan nodded. “I will find a healer and make sure these ones are dead. Go to Damien’s room and wait there. Please.”

Kitsen bowed his head. “Okay.”

“Good,” Duulan said, a bounce in his step as he drew out a knife. “I will be back shortly.”

Kitsen turned from Duulan’s upbeat malice to Damien’s shaking form, wrapping his unbroken wing around him like he did when sneaking him away from Erix to make sure he got some food. “We’d better do as he says,” he told Damien softly. “It’s okay, now. I am so sorry I allowed this to happen.”

“It’s alright,” Damien replied, leaning into Kitsen’s side. “It’s not your fault.”

Kitsen sighed, but allowed the statement to pass with no comment.

VTB Part 9 - Coming soon

He heard the door bell ring and he dashed deeper into the shop, heart pounding as he found a set of stairs to go down, trying to find a place to hide. He quickly realized his mistake when he saw there were no windows, not even the small half sized ones, in the basement. He either needed to find a very very good hiding spot, or he would have to use the stairs as a choke point to deal with the pirates.

He did find a long pair of fabric shears, and with his adrenaline fueled hands, he didn’t have too much trouble taking it apart so he had a pair of blades he could use in a fight. Thomas had been showing him out to fight with bladed weapons and how to defend against them, and Keys, for reason he couldn’t remember, was very very good with martial arts, which meant he stood a somewhat fair chance if he could take them one by one.

He distractedly wondered what had caused him to learn martial combat skills at such a high level, especially since the martial arts masters he had met since waking up in that field without his memories had never heard of or seen him before.

“Where’d the ugly fella go?” someone upstairs asked and Keys shifted on his feet, creeping to stand beside the stairs. Please please let Lock get here fast. He was running out of energy and his back was really beginning to hurt.

“I think there’s a basement, Let’s check it out.”

Keys tightened his hands on his blades as he heard the first pair of feet on the stairs. He waited, breathing softly as he watched the pirate’s shadows make their ways down the stairs first.

Then, quickly and precisely, Keys knocked away the first blade that came through the doorway and drove his scissor into the pirate’s throat.

He dodged back, in case another blade came for him from the next one up, but he found himself just barely dodging something that whizzed past with a bang. Guns! They had guns!

Keys still rued the day that he found out what guns were. It was a hands on experience, running very very fast as explosion propelled bits of metal that mostly missed him. Not all of them, though, and he had a new scar he remembered on his shoulder to prove it.

He was not looking to get any more scars, so he shifted away from the doorway along the wall a little to avoid getting shot through the corner of the wall.

There were a couple of overzealous bangs before one of the pirate’s shouted, “PETER! THAT’S ENOUGH! Stop wasting powder, man!”

“Er.. sorry.”

Keys gritted his teeth, listening as the pirates huddled and whispered what their plan of attack was going to be. It was starting to look like Thomas and Lock weren’t going to get here in time if this turned back into a full on fight. And since the pirates were armed with guns, he didn’t dare take this on by himself. He had to stall.

“Excuse me,” he said, still jittery with fear. “What exactly are you going to do with me if you catch me?”

“Eh?” There was befuddled silence for a long moment before Peter said, “Probably kill you. Why?”

“Well, uh, that would be a bit of a waste, wouldn’t it?”

“A waste!? You’re that good for nothing Thomas’s friend, ain’t you?”

“Exactly. You could use me as a hostage,” Keys suggested, shifting his weight now, trying to keep his mind off of the growing pain in his back and legs. “It would be a lot easier, you know. Just draw him out using me, deal with whatever comes from that, and we’re all good. I don’t have any arguments with you, right? And I’m getting tired.”

“Oh… well what would you get out of it, then?”

“I wouldn’t die, is the hope here.”

The pirates whispered to one another thinking it over before the one who had shouted Peter down spoke. “Okay, that makes sense. You will be our cooperative hostage until we’re done with Thomas, and we don’t kill you.”

Keys knew they would kill him anyway, just because he made them run around after him and had already killed a couple of their friends. That was alright. He would be cooperative up until the point he could cast a shield of fire when Thomas inevitably came to rescue him. “It’s a deal. I’ll put my weapons down and hold up my hands as I come into the doorway. You won’t shoot me, will you Peter?”

“…. Naw, I guess I won’t.”

Keys dropped his weapons, letting them clatter to the ground seeing as he was in no mood to be bending for anything unimportant, and stepped into the doorway stiffly, showing his hands.

Peter’s gun was aimed at Keys’ head, which was intimidating to say the least as two other pirates came over, stepping over the body of the pirate Keys had killed to grab him roughly by the collar of his shirt. Keys could feel the fabric stretching out and winced a little. This was a new one Lock got for him because she was tired of the way his other shirts would slip off of his shoulder because of how well worn they were. Looks like she would be getting him another one soon.

He was dragged up the stairs over the corpse, and one man stayed behind, looking sadly down at his comrade.

“Sorry,” Keys murmured.

The pirate simply nodded.

They got up into the shop, scaring away the woman who had come to investigate the commotion and they were soon outside again.

There were more pirates waiting there, and they began cheering when they saw Keys.

“Good job, lads!” the first mate, a shaggy haired woman called. “Let’s skewer him, ey?”

“We were actually thinking we could use him to make it easier to get Thomas,” Peter suggested, and Keys did not begrudge him taking the credit for the idea.

The first mate nodded, eyes brightening at the thought. “That is a good idea! The captain said that he’d lost Thomas, so this will be good to draw him back out of hiding. Bind his hands and we’ll parade him through town!”

“Gently,” Keys asked, a moment before his arms were wrenched back in a way that lit all of the nerves through his back on fire.

He gasped, his legs almost giving out on him as his wrists were tied. “I said gently!” he wheezed.

The pirate behind him just laughed and grabbed Key’s by his shirt collar again and dragged him out into the street. They followed the second hand, who led the way back to the dock where they met up in the market square there with the captain.

Captain Allie was an imposing man, a squint to his eye, grey in his hair and beard, and fairly well kept for a pirate captain. He even smelled alright, most of the BO covered by the scent of spices and oranges.

“What have we here?” he asked, before he grinned. “Oh, well done! I thought you lot would kill the lad. This way we can draw our old friend out of hiding.”

The pirates around Key’s beamed with pride and shoved Key’s forwards, his newly stretched shirt slipping immediately down his scarred shoulder. Keys stumbled, face screwed up with pain before he managed to compose himself, standing up straighter. Or, as much as he could. With his hands positioned behind his back, it hurt to stand straight.

Captain Allie seemed to notice, taking in Keys’ rough state and the brace he wore around his middle. “Lived a rough life, have ya?”

Key simply nodded.

“Aye. It is like that these days,” Captain Allie said with a musing expression. “Leona, bind his hands in the front and give me a lead for him. We’re going fishing.”

The first mate nodded and Leona untied his wrists, turning him around and tying them in front, adding in a length of rope to the knots and handing it to the captain.

“Hobble him too,” Captain Allie said, eyes flashing with amusement at the small glare Keys sent his way. “We don’t want our new prize making a run for it.”

One of the other crew members crouched and tied a short length of rope between Keys’ ankles as Keys closed his eyes, sinking away from the moment and resting the spell casting part his mind, trying to get his energy back fast enough to get himself out of the way when Thomas came in to save the day. Or more likely Lock.

The captain jerked on Keys’ lead, pulling him forward and back into the streets, going down the cobbles where Thomas must have been chased earlier when the captain lost him. There were people going about their days, of course, and they stared at the entourage as they passed, specifically at Keys, probably wondering what he had done to be paraded around rather than just killed as was typical pirate fashion.

“THOMAS!” Captain Allie bellowed. “WE HAVE YOUR FRIEND! YOU HAVE UNTIL THE END OF THE DAY TO TURN YOURSELF INTO ME AT MY SHIP!”

The captain shouted that at intervals through the streets, making sure enough people heard about it that they would spread the news around before he turned, dragging Keys back to the ship. It was a fairly small ship. A sloop, Keys was pretty sure it was called. The figurehead was that of a many eyed sea serpent, and the many sails had painstakingly been dyed a desaturated green color. It was fairly named ‘The Green Serpent.’ Which coincidentally was also the name of a seaside bar Keys had worked at before he met Lock and Thomas. It had been one of his favorite places to work. Good food, good booze, and plenty of sailors with interesting things to trade for drinks and stories to tell.

Keys was led up the gangplank and walked to one of the smaller masts.

“Sit,” Captain Allie said with a gesture.

Keys looked down at the hard wooden deck and sighed. It was fine. He already wasn’t going to be able to get up in the morning. Why not add onto it.

He put his back to the mast and slowly slid down, hissing at the pain in his back as he did so. It was nothing compared to what it would be when he needed to get back up.

The captain nodded and passed the rope lead through one of the metal loops to tie sailors to the boat during big storms.

Keys looked out at the dock, searching for the familiar gait and curly hair of his best friend, but didn’t see Thomas in the crowd, so he just settled in as much as he could and closed his eyes, resting his brain again.

He’d open his eyes occasionally, tracking where the sun was and keeping and eye on the pirates as they went about their duties.

He had regained some of his spell casting energy when the crew started to get really restless about the situation. The captain was too, and he kept looking over at Keys, his gaze darkening further every time. Keys was beginning to get really nervous as the captain made his way over. “Your friend doesn’t seem to be taking this very seriously.”

Keys turned a little and help up his fingers to the skyline. “There are still three hours in the day. He will be here soon.”

“Mmm, or I can make him desperate.”

Before Keys could say anything, the captain grabbed his hair and hauled him up, ignoring his cries of pain as his spine resisted the movement. “Leona! Get the whip!”

Keys grabbed the captain’s wrist, trying to pry his grasp out of his hair. “Wait! There’s still time! Please!”

“I’m tired of waiting. Every moment wasted here is another moment my men and I aren’t out robbing the merchants out on the ocean,” Captain Allie said impatiently. “Now behave yourself, or this will be a lot worse for you.”

Keys was untied from the small mast only to be dragged over to the large mast of the sloop where he was lifted up so a hook could catch onto the bindings around his wrists. They spent a full minute trying to get his corset brace off, and, once they did, they cut his shirt off.

There was a moment of silence as they saw all of the scars on his back, before the captain laughed. “Looks like you’ve done this before, boy. I’m sure you know how this goes. Why don’t you count for me?”

Key swallowed, shifting nervously. “H-how many, captain?” he asked as politely as he could. Why couldn’t Lock and Thomas just get here already? He only had enough energy for one spell and he didn’t want to cast it too early since it only lasted 10 minutes on the best of days.

“Either until your friend gets here, or until I’m satisfied,” Captain Allie said with a grin.

Keys nodded faintly. He would cast his shield if it went on too long, consequences be thrown to the sharks and eels below. Still, he had to stall. Had to wait and hope. And he couldn’t feel much of his back anyway, so it wouldn’t be that bad. The aches were all deep in his spine while the skin had gone dead with nerve damage before Keys even had memories.

The whip cracked in the air and Keys was thrown against the mast as the whip slapped into his back. Keys felt the pressure, but there was no real pain outside of a dull ache deeper in the tissue.

“One,” he said, readjusting his feet on the wood below him to be closer to the mast so he didn’t lose any teeth to it.

The captain grunted and the next one came down on the meat of Keys’ shoulder where he could definitely feel it.

He gasped, arching with pain as a welt rose instantly on his skin. The next one came down in nearly the same place, small blood blisters rising where the whip had wrapped around his shoulder towards his chest for a moment.

“Three!” Keys squeaked, trying to gain some favor with the captain to end this as early as possible.

The next whip landed along his calves, only barely cushioned by his pants. His legs gave out, leaving him dangling from his wrists as he let out stuttered cries. He hissed, pulling himself back up. “F-four.”

The captain laughed. “I like the grit to you, kid! I might ask you to be a part of my crew if you keep this up. Good pay, regular meals? And we take care of each other.”

The whip cracked against Keys’ back again, mostly numb except where it stung his side, causing him to dig his nails into his palms and hiss.

“Five.”

“Good at following orders-” CRACK “-already hardened-” CRACK “-and I hear you’re even a magic user!” CRACK.

Key’s gasped as each on came down on his legs, hip and side. “Eight,” he said, voice cracking. He couldn’t do much more of this. He was going wild with the pain. He needed to escape. He needed away from this. He already hurt so much without the whip lighting up new lines of pain and fire in his flesh.

The captain lifted his whip and struck higher, causing a line of fire across Key’s bicep and catching his ear.

Keys screamed, feeling hot blood spatter from his ear across his arm and down his neck.

“Nine,” he croaked, trying to have hope that the captain would end this all at the round number of 10 and call it a day.

The captain lifted his whip again, but stumbled as the sloop jostled underneath them all.

He looked around, baffled, trying to find the wave that had rocked the boat so hard, but all he could see were the waves caused by the boat moving strangely.

Keys lifted his head, ear bleeding down his back now as he craned his neck as far as it would go to see what was going on.

There was a long moment of quiet before something huge splashed out of the water, leaping up with such power it could grab onto the railing of the sloop, rocking it so hard that pirates fell over with cries of surprise.

Keys, however, cried out with joy as he saw the white and brown form pull herself over the rail, Thomas spilling from off of her shoulder, sword already drawn.

Lock plowed through the pirates, huge white paws casting them aside as though she were batting away cubs.

Out of the corner of Keys’ eye he could see the Captain approaching quickly, a blade raised to threaten Keys and stop the chaos, but Keys shouted his fire shield spell, contorting his fingers to the correct forms and fire lit up around him, protecting him and playfully licking around his clothing and the mast without burning, but the Captain fell back as he was hit in the face by the extreme heat now protecting Keys.

Keys could only watch as Lock threw people off the deck, her heavy prizzly bear form rocking the boat with each leap and her horns and face quickly becoming coated in blood.

The pirates ran from her, throwing themselves overboard while the captain fought with Thomas.

He screamed as Thomas put a blade through his guts.

Lock bounded up to Keys, the flames welcoming her as an ally.

“We’re here,” the druid cooed, pressing her nose into his hair reassuringly. “I’m so sorry, Keys.”

“’S Kay. I survived.”

She harrumphed and crouched, sticking here head between his legs so he was sitting on her neck. She lifted him off the hook and he brought his arms down quickly to hold onto her thick fur as he slid back further, his shield enveloping her fully.

Thomas dashed over, the first mate on his heels and he leapt up onto Lock’s back behind Keys, holding Keys gently from behind to steady him.

The first mate leapt up into the flames only to fall back and scream as her clothing burned and her flesh melted and charred.

Lock turned, tail lashing behind her as she dashed down the gangplank and out through the streets to get as far away from here as they could.

“You alright?” Thomas asked, one arm wrapped around Key’s chest to steady him and the other pulling back his hair to check out the damage to his ear.

“What took so long?” Keys asked.

“We were trying to give you time to get your spell energy back,” Lock grunted.

Keys could feel Thomas nod eagerly. “Exactly. We didn’t want to run in there if you weren’t able to protect you. We didn’t expect them to get so impatient so early.”

“Huh…. Why were they so mad at you, Thomas? What did you do?”

Thomas shrugged. “Your guess would be as good as mine. Must have happened before I lost my memories.”

Keys huffed. It was one thing to be unable to remember what happened to you, but it was almost more annoying when your friend had the same problem. “Knowing you, it was probably something particularly infuriating and asinine.”

“Hey!”

Lock chortled under them as they broke out of the city, heading back to the portal that would lead back to their world.

Elio just hoped they wouldn’t notice him up here. He hated the employees this deep into the IKEA. He and the others had decided it would be a good idea to move farther in as there were more resources and a more interesting selection of items to be found, but the farther you go in, the more dangerous the employees get. The ones on the edge could only walk around and tear you to pieces if they caught you. Dangerous in numbers, but fairly easy to deal with on their own. These ones, though. They were crafty. If they knew you were there, they would work together to knock your shelf over. Even worse, these ones could talk and scream, playing tricks on you trying to convince you to come down or try to scare you in the direction they wanted you to go.

Elio very carefully stretched his lanky frame out, laying his head on his bag. He pulled his phone out of his pocket, glad his brightness was already so low before he turned it on to send a text to his friends. While you couldn’t message anyone outside of the IKEA, it wasn’t too hard to set up your phone to text people inside.

:Got caught out by the bed frames after lights out. I’m safe. Be back in the morning.:

He sent the text and tucked his phone away, waiting quietly in the darkness. He knew he wouldn’t be sleeping, but he could still close his eyes and count it as better than nothing.

He was drifting off in a daydream about the foods he missed from outside. He really wanted ice cream. And his dad’s homemade chocolate cake. There were a litany of candies he could name that he would give up fingers for (not his fingers, of course, but fingers in general) and he was just beginning to think about corn on the cob when he heard something below beside the shuffling of the employee monsters.

“Elio?”

Elio sat bolt upright, sweat pricking on his back and the hair on his neck rising.

“Elio?” the voice said again. It sounded like Puck, but not quite. It was darker, slightly off, and there was no way Puck would have been standing safely among the employees.

How did they find out it was him up here? How did they know it was Elio specifically? What was he supposed to do now?

“Come down. It’s safe now, Elio,” the voice sang. Another started, harmonizing terribly with the other voice. “Come with us. We will keep you safe.”

Elio heard the employees push into the shelf, though, weighed down as it was with wooden bed frames, Elio wasn’t too concerned with it toppling over.

“Don’t you want to leave, Elio? We know the way out.”

Elio felt tears prickling in his eyes as he recognized the voices as his dad and his deceased mother who he hadn’t seen in 7 years. “How do you know them!?” he asked fiercely, unable to help himself.

The voices all laughed in unison and Elio growled in frustration, trying to cover the fear that was beginning to shake in his limbs.

“We know everything about you, Elio. Your fear told us everything. You were so scared those first few weeks here, weren’t you? You are so scared now-”

Elio slammed his hands over his ears, folding up his earlobes to push against his ear holes to muffle the sound more before putting his head between his knees, using his legs to keep his hands tight over his ears. He wouldn’t listen. He wouldn’t fear. He wouldn’t feed this place.

He was never going to make this mistake again. Even bed frames weren’t worth the laughing that echoed distantly in his memory as he tried to remember the catchiest songs possible to cover even that.

VTB Part 7

Warlocks Masterlist

Bettle grinned, glowing with pride as Kelli’s sister, Lorckani, and their other cousin, Gilopticous, made their way along the shore in a slower and more dignified manner, chatting with one another.

Bettle got up into the boat, his legs shaking a little from the exertion, still panting as Kelli unblocked an untied the boat.

Lorcka and Gilop made their way to the other boat and Gilop called out, “Do you think this is going to be the trip we make it?”

“If our parents don’t catch us,” Kelli said with a grin as Lorcka unmoored her boat and Gilop climbed in, letting the bigger cousin push the boat out. He usually helped push when he was with Kelli, but Lorcka liked doing it herself now that she was getting to be bigger than them, female elves typically growing to be two heads taller than male elves.

Bettel watched, his breathing settling down. He giggled as Kelli pushed the boat over the sand and into the water. Skilled at this now, Kelli hopped in before the water could lap at his feet and he grabbed an oar, pushing them out the rest of the way.

Bettel grabbed an oar as well and paddled along, good at working alongside his cousins, even if he was smaller. The two boats sailed out into the lake with minimum wobble, nothing like their first few attempts that dumped them out into the shallow water.

They laughed and talked as they made their way out, the sun beating down on their white hair, a reminder of when their particular race of elves, the South Lakern tribe, used to intermingle with gnomes.

“How long do you think it will take to get to the other side?” Bettel asked, looking over the edge of the boat down at the water hoping to see a fish.

“In one of the grown up boats it’s about an hour. So I think for us it might be three,” Lorcka said. “That’s why we started so early, Gilop.” She poked her cousin in the side and he laughed, elbowing her.

“You know I like sleeping in. You could have just left me.”

“Then who would have helped me paddle?”

Kelli chuckled, paddling leisurely so Bettel could keep up with his pace.

Time passed peacefully on the lake, the clouds large and fluffy above them. The four of them sang the boat songs they knew before they started trying to make up their own.

“High up clouds sing!” Bettel suggested eagerly after listening to his cousins suggest lines.

“Clouds don’t sing,” Lorcka said with a frown. “They seem more like the humming type to me.”

“Well, maybe they’re very excited clouds.”

“Guys, what do clouds have to do with the beavers making dams anyway,” Gilop pointed out. “It’s a good line, though, Bettel. Maybe we can use it in the next song.”

Bettel huffed.

“Ooh! We could make this song kind of like a beaver working song,” Kelli said.

“A beaver working song?”

“Well, yeah, what else do they do when they’re looking for a good tree to gnaw down or patting down all of those sticks,” Kelli said with a shrug.

“That’s fair. But then wouldn’t it be rude to make one for them since we aren’t beavers?”

“Uuuuh…. That’s a good point.”

Before they could discuss the matter further they all heard the soft hum of a magic boat. A boat skidded over the water, a group of rowdy looking young adults on it.

They grinned and laughed and waved at the young teens on their small paddle boats and approached quickly. Too quickly!

“Stop!” Kelli cried out in alarm, trying to paddle out of the way, Bettel following his example, but the inexperienced young adults overshot where they wanted to stop, their bow plowing right through Bettel and Kelli’s boat.

Bettel was thrown painfully into the water, and he kicked out to push off from the bottom, but he couldn’t find the bottom. There was no bottom. There was no up or down. He had never been in water this deep and the terror that gripped him was like nothing he had ever felt before.

He struggled, arms and legs kicking, but his legs ached from his run and his arms wobbled from how long he’d been paddling and he was already almost out of air since he hadn’t gotten a good breath when he was thrown from the boat.

His chest burned, trying to convince him that breathing water was better than breathing nothing.

He gave one last fever pitch of a struggle, opening his eyes under water even though it was scary, but his hair enveloped his vision, and bubbles erupted around his frantic motions. He couldn’t see! He didn’t know where he was or if he was upside down and there was blackness rimming the edges of his vision.

His movements slowed as he fought to keep from breathing. Someone had to save him. They all saw him fall in, why was no one coming in to save him?

He closed his eyes, his mouth popping open, water flowing in to explore his lungs.

In the next moment he vomited it all out, his stomach and diaphragm cramping as he did so, coughing and curling up around his bruised chest.

“He’s alive!” someone shouted in excitement and another rubbed his chest encouragingly. “Give me a big cough, Bettel.”

Bettel didn’t need much prompting as he tried to take a deeper breath and found himself coughing harder than he’d ever coughed in his whole life, more water spewing up. He kept going, forcing another cough to get out more of the water before someone deemed that enough was out they could pick him up and hold him close, a hand on the back of his head.

“I’m so sorry,” a voice said in his ear and he realized that it was his youngest uncle holding him, only recently become an adult. “I’m so sorry, Bettel. Are you alright?”

Bettel tried to speak, but it hurt too much to say anything intelligible, a sad little croak escaping instead.

“What were you all doing racing around like that!” Lorcka shouted. “That was so stupid! And now our parents are going to forbid all of us from playing in the water alone until we’re all 80! You could have killed Bettelenian!”

“It was an accident! We didn’t-”

Bettel whimpered and everyone fell silent, coming in closer to make sure he was okay. He just wanted to go home and lay in his bed.

“It’s okay, Bettel. You’re going to be okay. Let’s get you back.”

Bettel nodded and opened teary eyes to watch over his uncle’s shoulder at the ruined bits of his and Kelli’s boats floating on the water as the magic boat pulled swiftly away, tugging along the other slightly damaged paddle boat with it.

VTB 6

The Price of War Masterlist

The Price of war: @fleur-a-whump @percy-frayer @starsick1979 @hellodecisionparalysis @why-not-ask-me-a-better-question

Gale made a popping sound with his mouth and Kolt dashed left around a corner at the signal. Gale rushed to catch up, ready to take point now that there were getting closer and their target was proving themselves to be good at staying out of line for Kolt to use his power on them.

Kolt saw the flash of movement he was looking for and lifted his hand, blasting out a line of red that shattered the concrete as it just barely missed the runner.

“Come on, Jared! We just want to talk!” Gale called out, running quicker, Kolt on his heels now.

There was no response as they turned a corner. They could see Jared running across an open area, but Kolt kept his blasts to himself seeing the tanks in the yard behind Jared.

Jared shouldered his way into a warehouse and Gale and Kolt slowed, stopping on either side of the doorway.

Gale pulled out his pistol and nodded and Kolt opened his palm, holding his wrist to stabilize his arm as they both whipped through the doorway, scanning the warehouse.

There were piles of machinery, blocking their view to some parts of the warehouse, but there was no movement and no visible traps.

Kolt nodded to Gale and the two walked forward carefully, protecting each other backs as they pressed forward, turning in opposite directions as they rounded corners to be sure everything was covered.

Kolt slowed his breath, listening hard for Jared as they came around and cleared the south corner.

“He’s probably left out a back door,” Gale whispered and Kolt shook his head. He didn’t know what it was, but he knew they weren’t alone in there.

Kolt headed down another hall, eyes narrowed as he honed into all of his senses. Jared had to be around here. There was something there.

He spotted the movement too late, unable to step out of the way as a gun swung into view where Jared sat up in an old broken down forklift. Kolt dove down, but he knew it wasn’t enough. Jared’s gun would follow him and he would be shot. Time slowed as Kolt heard the trigger, right as Gale landed on top of him, protecting him.

He heard the scream and the shot at the same time, and time sped up again. He rolled, pushing Gale off of him in a swift movement, bringing up his hand and red filled his vision just before it filled Jared’s head.

Kolt heaved for air, watching as what remained of Jared’s brains slid down the rusting metal behind his body before turning to Gale, who grinned.

“Idiot missed me!” he declared, grabbing his dropped gun and standing up. He offered his hand to Kolt and Kolt took it, chuckling.

“That was a close one. I- Gale?”

“Yeah?”

“You’re bleeding.”

Gale looked down at his arm, seeing the blood running down it and onto Kolt’s hand.

Kolt grabbed his arm, following the trails up to a wound near Gale’s armpit.

Gale hissed as Kolt pressed his hand to the wound, trying to stop the blood flow. “Augh! I feel it now. Crap, I really thought he missed me. What are we going to do?”

Kolt pulled out a knife, cutting at Gale’s shirt, looking for an exit wound. His heart raced as he couldn’t find one coming out Gale’s back or side. The bullet must have bounced around. How much danger was Gale in?

“Well, I think we just won some free healthcare so I’ll just get you to Phoenix. Just take deep breaths. How are you feeling?”

Gale licked his lips, going paler by the second. “N-now that you mention it, I’m feeling kinda… like….. with the-”

Gale’s eyes rolled up and Kolt braced to hold him up. “I’ve got you,” Kolt growled. “I’ve got you. Stay with me.”

……………………………………….

Kolt sat at Gale’s bedside, hands folded and pressed against his mouth. Each breath from Gale was a balm to his nerves as Gale slept.

The doctor Kolt had been introduced to, a round friendly fellow named Dr. Dalley Hitchcock, cleaned his equipment and prepared some extra bags of liquids for Gale.

Dr. Hitchcock looked over his shoulder and smiled a little. “He’ll be fine.”

“I know,” Kolt said quickly, straightening out like he wasn’t worried.

“He got off very lucky,” Dr. Hitchcock said conversationally. “I’m glad you could get him here so quickly. Trying to find a bullet is already a tricky situation without the patient having bled out more.”

Kolt nodded slightly. He wanted to reach out and cover Gale’s dark hand with his light one. But that wouldn’t fall in line with what people knew about the great villain Kolt.

Dr. Hitchcock cleared his throat. “Well, I’ll be in check on him after I give my report to Phoenix. Call if you need anything.”

Kolt gave a restrained nod and watched as the doctor left the room. He reached out and placed a hand on Gale’s, stroking a thumb over his friend’s knuckled.

“You’re incredibly stupid,” Kolt said sternly, knowing he wouldn’t be able to give him a talking to if he was awake. “You shouldn’t have done that, you know? I’m tougher than you in every way and I should have just taken it. You could have gone for the shot and you wouldn’t have been hurt. Really, it’s a wonder I let you go anywhere with me.”

Gale groaned, causing Kolt to jump. Gale cracked an eye open and gave a weak smile. “You’d be dead without me,” he croaked out.

Kolt rolled his eyes, taking his hand off of Gale’s. “Uh huh. You are still stupid.”

“Maybe a little… or maybe I wanted… to try our new perks.”

Kolt snorted. “How about making it a dislocated shoulder next time instead of a bullet bouncing around in your guts.”

“Works for me.” Gale relaxed, closing his eyes with a sigh. “’M tired.”

“Then sleep. I’ll wait for you.”

“Good,” Gale breathed before falling asleep again.

Crestlen Masterlist

VTB Part 5

Fallen taglist: @looptheloup @kira-the-whump-enthusiast @snakebites-and-ink @starsick1979 @galaxyofwhump 

“Welcome to Motors out Back,” Kira said in her best customer service tones, mentally cursing her manager for cracking down on that particular part of service. Why couldn’t she just talk like a normal person? “What can I do for you?”

Auburn stepped forward, sliding off their sunglasses and nodded firmly. “You are Kira Cole?”

“Yes,” Kira replied, reaching over to readjust her metal arm. “What do you need? Has someone stolen my identity again?”

“Oh, no. Not at all,” Blackie replied firmly. Kira decided that their voice sounded masculine enough to tentatively give him pronouns. “We work for the WRI.”

The workers rights institution. Kira wondered if there was something about her employer they were hoping she’d spill about. “I think everything here is fine,” she said with s shrug. “I get all of my breaks and there aren’t any cameras in the bathroom.”

“We are aware of the quality of your workplace, ma’am. We-”

“Don’t call me ma’am,” Kira replied, annoyed by how long it was taking to get to the point. “Look, what do you want?”

“Have you heard of the Mort Project with WRI? It’s a new program in place by the leader of our world to help weed out bad employers. We have been looking for people to go undercover for us for a couple of weeks at certain locations to catch employers who are actively disobeying the law. The pay is good, of course. Eighty credits per hour, entrance to the Flying Vehicles convention, and hydrocore classes and certifications.”

Kira’s eyebrows nearly flew off her face in surprise and excitement. That amount of money was insane, never mind the hydrocore classes! She thought she would have to work for another three years before she would have enough money to get hydrocore certified. Just having that certification to your name jumped you up in the tech world and you had a lot more freedom to make bigger machines and granted you more access to materials.

“You should have started with that,” Kira said in friendlier tone, tossing aside the towel. “Will I need to quit my job here?”

“You can. Or we can just let your employer know that we are borrowing you and compensate them,” Blackie replied. “We will reach out to them and let you know when and where you’re needed.”

Kira nodded. “Sounds like a plan.” It also gave her time to research all of this and make sure this was a real and legit offer because it really did sound too good to be true.

Blackie nodded as Gold stepped forward and offered her a professional looking card. “If you have any questions, please let us know.”

“Will do,” Kira said, taking the card and slipping it into the compartment in her upper arm.

……………………………………………

Kira was given her first assignment very quickly. She had done all of her research and asked all of her questions and was certain that this was all legit. She found out they had been looking for people like her specifically to make sure disabilities were being compensated appropriately. She found that funny considering her arm was so state of the art she actually had an advantage over most people. But, whatever floated their goats, she supposed.

She had been flown out to an entirely other continent and planted in a workshop that produced fan parts for large ships. She wasn’t going to be working to make the fan parts, of course. That was extremely below her qualifications. She was to act as maintenance and improvements, an actually interesting job. She went around to the machines in the mornings, worked out if anything needed maintaining, and if she had extra time, she would make improvements to the machines to increase productivity and quality of parts.

The first couple of days were actually a lot of fun, working to improve the machines she came across, enjoying the cable management work, and getting to know the place as she was shown around by a smiling manager.

It was only in the second week that she started to see through the cracks. The workers trudged into work, already looking miserable and sharing looks but not really talking to one another. On their breaks, no one sat together or went to lunch together. She saw people chatting on their phones, clearly happy to be social, but not to one another. When she made a comment or joke or tried to connect to others, there was a skittish look in their eyes. She also quickly realized that most of people who here there were too poor to leave and those that weren’t so desperate left just as quickly as they got there.

Something was definitely up, and Kira was determined to find out what. After all, the quicker you figured it out, the bigger the bonus.

Kira sidled over to one of the more open looking guys, checking the metrics as he fed the metal tubing into the machine. “Good day so far?”

That skittish look was back, but not as strongly in this guy. “Uh, yeah, pretty much.”

“I’m Kira.”

“David.”

“Nice to meet you,” she said in chipper tones before she went back to studying the machine. It was down in speed for some reason. Something she’d have to look into when David went on his break and there was downtime.

“You’re new here, right?” David asked, startling Kira. In her whole time here, she had never had anyone beside the managers try to start a conversation with her. She latched onto it quickly.

“I am, yeah. Still on my trial period and everything.”

“What do you think of it?”

“Well…. It’s weirdly quiet? Not the machines, of course, but most workplaces I’ve been in have a lot more chatter, you know? At least in the break rooms.”

The man nodded, a strange look darkening his face. “That’s how it should be,” he muttered. “Tell you what. In the last 10 minutes of your next break, meet me in the storage room by the bathrooms. There are some things you should probably know.”

“Oh, alright. Will do, then.”

He nodded firmly, peeking over his shoulder before he went back to his work, head down and eyes forward.

Kira shook her head a little and moved on to the next machine to check its metrics.

………………………………

Kira meandered toward the bathrooms, eager to know what exactly was waiting in the storage room. This could be a very bad idea, of course, but Kira knew very well how to defend herself, and she had a small camera in her metal arm recording just in case David was going to try anything with her.

She pushed open the door to see David and two other workers talking quietly. They looked up and waved Kira in.

She stepped in and gently closed the door, looking between the three of them.

“This is Garro and this is Pattie,” David said. “This is Kira. She’s new here.”

“You have one chance to walk back out that door,” Pattie warned Kira. “We’re playing with fire in here.”

“Then I’ll just put on my welding gloves,” she said, grabbing another bucket and turning it over to sit with them. “What’s going on here?”

“You’ve probably guessed that not everything is sunshine and rainbows over here,” Garro said darkly. “We’re about to let you in on how bad it is.”

Pattie nodded. “This company is terrified of unions. If you know their history, you’d know why. They were almost wiped out from lawsuit after lawsuit. When they hire on people, they make sure only the most desperate actually stay, and, while not in the company rule book, have basically banned any talk of wages, hours, or anything that might get them in trouble and might cause a union to form.”

“Why hasn’t anyone reported them?” Kira asked, twitching the fingers on her metal arm to send a live recording out to her sponsors.

“Oh, people have tried. This company is all about surveillance. As soon as they see someone trying to start something, they move in. We don’t really know what happens. Some people never turn up again. Others come back to work, beaten and bruised and spewing some BS story about debts they didn’t pay only to commit suicide a month later,” Garro replied with a growl. “The only reason we’re safe to talk in here is David’s bug re-setter.”

David nodded. “It sends a prerecorded bit of quiet to the receivers through the bugs planted on and around us. It even tells the company we’re all in the bathroom right now. We can only talk for a short while, but it works well enough.”

Kira nodded. “That is really interesting, actually.” She just hoped the bug re-setter wasn’t messing with her own recording. “I have something to confess too, then. I’m actually here because the government has a feeling that there is something wrong going on here. We’ll get this place busted pretty quickly here.”

Each of the three didn’t seem that reassured. “Miss, I know that you want to help, but we do need this place. We need the money for our families.”

“And you’ll get it. Trust me, the lawsuit payouts are going to be insane. And I’ll make sure that everyone here gets taken care of properly.”

“I guess….. Those payouts would look pretty spectacular, considering how much back pay we’re all missing,” Pattie said thoughtfully.

Kira nodded. “Exactly. We’ll be fine. I’m going to head back out now. Don’t want them thinking I’m stealing time in the bathroom.”

The other three laughed and Kira grinned before quietly and carefully leaving the storage closet.

………………………………………………..

Kira was busy behind an extruder machine when she heard someone call her name. He stretched her head up to look over the machine as she held parts together, annoyed at the interruption. “Yeah?”

There were two bulky looking managers standing there, looking very very stern. “We need you to come with us for a meeting.”

“Yeah? Give me 10 minutes to get put back together so there isn’t too much downtime-”

“Now.”

Kira stared at them before she shook her head, carefully putting parts down. “Suit yourself,” she told them as she came around the machine. “But if this machine starts leaking or whatever, it’s not on me.”

“We understand,” the bulkier of the two replied.

The other one grabbed Kira by her metal arm and she shook him off. “Don’t touch me.”

“I wasn’t touching you. I was touching the metal-”

“Yeah, the metal of my arm,” she replied. “What’s going on here?”

“We’re just going to have a meeting,” Bulky replied.

Kira glowered at him, but found herself trapped between the two of them. She flicked her fingers to start another recording to be sent to the WRI as they led her to an office that was already pretty crowded with people.

She tried not to show any emotion on her face as she realized David, Garro, and Pattie were also sandwiched between managers and security. They all looked quite pale and Kira very quickly flicked her fingers to activate her distress signal. She had no idea what would really happen here, but she knew it wasn’t going to be any fun.

She was pushed into place by the bulkier manager and just in time as a woman dressed in a business suit entered the room.

“Good evening, gentlemen,” she said with a smile that Kira recognized from the paperwork Gold had given her before coming here. This was Jerry Yearling, one of the high up enforcement lawyers in the company. Kira pressed her distress button once more for good measure, rubbing her arm so the camera on her wrist would get a good view of the woman.

“You might be wondering why your here,” she purred. “It has come to my attention that the four of you have been doing something rather illegal on our premises. Building a machine to interfere with our security systems is, of course, a matter we take very seriously. If you will just tell me who built it, you will go free.”

None of them moved, though Kira felt some tension in the air. The other three had no idea if she would take a hit for them, and she didn’t have any way to tell them that she was fully on their side. She had been told what she could be getting into, that there was a good chance that she could get hurt, and she was suddenly wishing she had taken that more seriously.

“Really? I know one of you made it,” Yearling said, taking a step closer, watching for any flinches from any of them. “The rest of you would take that punishment too? Or maybe you all worked together on it. Well, except for you, Ms. Cole. I know this has been going on longer than you’ve been here. Just tell me who made it, dear, and you can go on your merry way seeing as they’re dragging you into all of this.”

There was an out. Kira could just leave and let David deal with this until her sponsors got there. She could, and no one would really blame her.

But the part of her raised by her old father pushed that thought aside. She remembered his stories about the prisoner camps he was held in during the war of the dark world. The war that spelled the end of his home planet. He told her that she should never allow herself to be turned against her peers.

“That’s how they get ya,” he told her, pointing a wrench at her. “That is. It’s all of you against them, and never let them convince you otherwise, you hear me?”

Kira nodded firmly inwardly, standing still and allowed a contempt filled smirk take her mouth. One her father would be proud of.

Yearling’s lip curled in disgust and huffed. “I suppose I have some methods I’ve wanted to use for discipline for some time. Bind them and separate them. Be sure to take her arm.”

Kira watched her turn and leave as the others were bound and someone grabbed her arm and shoulder, trying to separate them.

She watched, amused as they tried to remove it until they started to get frustrated enough that she was worried they were going to try and destroy it. At that point, she pressed the release and moved her fingers in the pattern needed to unlock the catch. With a simple jerk, she popped it off and offered it to the man who had been trying to take it. “Take care of that, won’t you? It’s expensive and I have very very aggressive insurance on it,” she said with a little smile. Say what you wanted about insurance brokers, she was glad they were so violent, especially when it came to things that were considered a part of your body.

The man, to his credit, took it very gently before someone else grabbed her other arm and led her to an empty office where she was sat on a chair and bound to it, her arm and ankles tried to the chair before the left.

Kira waited in silence, the hum of machinery still audible even this far from the factory floor. She was reconsidering the price of her being here. And you know what? Eighty credits per hour were still very worth it.

The door clicked and Yearling entered a severely disappointed look on her face. “Well, I did give you a chance.”

“That you did,” Kira said a little lazily despite the way her heart rate went up when she saw the case the woman was carrying. What was in it? What was she in for? She never imagined she would ever be in physical danger, at least not this intimately, like her father had been, but here she was.

Yearling walked past Kira, grabbing the back of her chair and dragging her over to the wash off shower in the corner where people could come clean chemicals off of their skin.

“Are you familiar with the tortures they used to use on the old world?”

“I am,” Kira replied, quickly connecting the dots.

“Oh, really. Then you are familiar with something called waterboarding?”

“I am.”

“I see. A history fanatic then?”

“Only because my father lived so much of that history.”

Yearling hummed, grabbing Kira’s short hair and dragging her head back as she leaned the chair against the wall. She went back to her case, opening it to reveal a variety of tools, many of which were sharp and bladed, before picking out a piece of cloth.

She grabbed Kira’s hair again and jerked her head back again, holding the cloth in the other hand. “You do understand why I’m doing this, don’t you?”

“Because you’re one sick son of a gun,” Kira replied.

Yearling clicked her tongue. “No. This is self defense, you see. I know who sent you.”

Kira went cold as Yearling continued, “Oh, yes. The WRI sent you, didn’t they. I know all about them. They’ve been trying to knock me off the census for a while now. Quite annoying, really, how much of a hand the leader of our world has in our lives. The great Scientist King! Master of Magic and Physics. He thinks he can make this world perfect, when in fact, he’s just making the viruses smarter.” Yearling cackled.

She slapped the cloth over Kira’s face, grabbing the shower head and turning it on.

Kira jerked against the chair, held steady by Yearling as water poured across her face, tasting of iron and ill made pipes as it got up her nose and filled her mouth. She spat and gagged, but the cloth wouldn’t let enough out as more poured in.

Her lungs spasmed painfully as she fought for air, choking on the burning pain of water going down the wrong pipe. She needed to breath! She had never felt this sort of desperation before. Was this what it was like for her father when he just barely survived being suffocated in those prison camps? She couldn’t die!

She was going to die.

The cloth was lifted up and the water pulled away and Kira instinctively gasped, only to cough and choke on the water still in her mouth and nose. He coughed until her stomach hurt and she was gagging painfully, trying to keep her breakfast down, though she was losing the fight.

The cloth went back down over her face and Kira tried to hold her breath despite the escape attempts being made by her diaphragm.

She coughed, more water burning through her sinuses and leaking down her throat as she fought to breathe, and then the cloth was removed and she could cough unimpeded.

She retched, water coming up before she was back to coughing. Yearling leaned in close to Kira’s ear. “Are you having fun yet?”

Kira drew in another breath, preparing to spit on the woman, but was rocked by a slap that sent her and the chair to the floor. She threw her head back in pain as she landed on her arm, hair dripping old water into her eyes.

Pain throbbed through her arm and cheek as Yearling turned the shower head on and sprayed Kira down with cold water.

Kira gasped and shivered, a small squeak for help escaping before she managed to lock it down again.

“What was that?” Yearling asked, amused.

Kira just glowered up at her, turning her head quickly when Yearling tried to spray her face.

Yearling set the shower head down, still on, and grabbed a flat plate of metal from nearby, covering the drain. “I’ll be back soon. Behave yourself.”

She sauntered to the door and opened it, not glancing back even once as she left.

Kira put her head down, closing her eyes and breathing deeply, coughing thoroughly to clear her lungs.

By the time the door opened again, water was lapping at her cheek. She lifted her head to see a familiar black haired agent who quickly holstered his gun and rushed in, water splashing around his boot as he came to a stop by her.

“Are you alright?”

“Not as fine as you look,” she said, exhausted.

He hummed softly, reaching under her to get the chair off her arm.

“I get paid more for this, right?”

“I’m sure we can work something out for you.”

The Adventurers Masterlist

Jack wandered the darkened streets of Puriam, bottle in hand. He sighed heavily to himself. “Here you are, old dog. Out here….. you could be grand! Grander than the stories!” He stared down into his bottle, disappointed that there were only a few more sips left. He didn’t want to be fully aware of himself again. Then he’d knew how bored he was, and the fact that screwing around with a pretty little corpse wouldn’t fix it anymore.

“I could be…. Something,” he muttered as he kicked at a broke piece of glass in the street.

That was the issue. He knew he needed to be something. That he would become something magnificent and feared throughout all the land, but he had no idea what he needed to get there. He had no idea where to go or what his goal should even be. He had considered a lot of things. He had thought about trying to kill the leaders of the city, of being the man who had killed the most people in a single life time with his own hands, and even considered trying to kill the king of the country. But none of those options seemed quite it. And he couldn’t understand why not. They were all incredible goals, so why didn’t they seem to be enough?

He glared at his bottle again, stumbling over the uneven stones of the street. Now was not the time to consider that. It was just making him more sober and more annoyed about his boredom. He needed something to fix his mood now, and then he would consider what he wanted to do with his life. It was easier to think about those kinds of things when you were in a better mood anyway. Then you can see all the options and all of the obstacles.

He nodded to himself and put his mind to deciding on what would make him feel better now. Maybe he could kill his boss and take over the mortuary? No. He knew how much Jesop had to do to maintain the business. All of the paperwork and the crying with clients and the pandering. Jack was much happier just preparing the bodies and not paying attention to any of the rest of it.

He couldn’t think of anyone else he could kill. He had no friends, no family that would let him near. He didn’t dare mess with Jesop.

He supposed he could kill a stranger, but that wasn’t nearly as fun. He’d done it once, just to try it, and found himself just as bored as he was now. He knew nothing about this person and their fears and it ended all too quickly, knife to the throat……

That struck up an idea in Jack’s mind. There was a thought. The death didn’t have to be short, and maybe along the way he could learn their fears.

Echos of animal screams and the sobs of his cousin reached him, reminding him of the fact that corpses don’t sob and beg. He imagined how terrified a stranger would be if a thin, pale man broke into their home and tied them up, threatening to torture them just for the fun of it.

Jack grin, wide and disgusting. He would need to go down to the poorer districts. He was familiar with how many women died screaming at their husband’s hands without a single neighbor coming to help. How many children, as well.

He stopped, half turned towards the district in mind before he put his foot back down. No. They all already knew pain and fear. They knew torture every day of their miserable lives. He saw it in the old badly healed wounds on the bodies he had tended to. But the rich? They were soft. They were safe and never knew hunger or fear. They would feel they had so much to live for. And there was something delicious about the idea of taking the high and mighty and sinking them to the pits of despair.

He turned back to the rich districts, dropping his bottle and listening to it shatter behind him as he hummed, a skip in his step as he made his way through Puriam. The nice thing about the rich is how much space they had between their houses and how well soundproofed their fancy wine cellars were.

Jack wandered up and down the nicer streets, looking at each house and into a couple of windows until he chose one.

The house was a nice little affair, well spaced out from its neighbor and with a workshop on the other side as to ensure a neighbor would be unlikely to hear anything. Jack knew that this was the house of a rich bachelor, but not so rich that he had a slew of servants. The building wasn’t big enough (for the rich, that is) for servants to live there, and the young man, just slightly older looking than Jack, was busy sampling a bottle of good wine in the middle of the night. It was clear he had nowhere to be in the morning and no woman to answer to.

Jack grinned and went around to the back of the building, looking for a way in. Everything was well locked, but Jack carried his favorite scalpel with him for more than just preparing bodies.

He easily scraped away the material holding a glass pane in a basement window and carefully pried the glass out and laid it gently in the grass. He laughed softly to himself. The rich thought themselves so protected and then building their houses so full of glass it was pathetically easy to break in.

Jack slid his scalpel back into his pocket and slip through the window, glad once again for his thin frame.

He uncurled himself, standing in the basement and smiled to himself before he began whistling a jaunty tune, rearranging the stored items to his liking, picking a table out to place in the middle of the room.

Ropes, candles, fancy cutlery? Lady Death and all of her crows, it was like this man wanted to be tortured in his basement.

Jack kept whistling, moving things, picking out a chair for himself when he got tired, finding boards to block each of the basement windows, lighting candles and placing them around the room, and waiting.

Sure enough, the noise he was making got the attention of the owner of the mansion. He heard feet on the stairs and slurred murmuring and Jack waited, still whistling, wandering over to the door.

He stopped whistling when he heard the rich bachelor directly on the other side of the door and waited.

The doorknob turned and opened and Jack slung his arm around the bachelor’s shoulders.

“Hello, friend,” Jack said, lengthening his lower city accent to a drawl. “So glad you could make it.”

“Whu? Who are-”

Jack threw the bachelor to the floor, grinning at the drunken way he tumbled. “Uh, oh. Looks like someone had a little too much wine. Don’t worry. We’ll sober you up, I’m sure.”

The bachelor groaned as Jack grabbed him by the back of his collar, heaving him up and throwing him to the table.

The bachelor’s legs gave out on him, and he held to the table to dear life, bewilderment clear in his eyes.

With the practiced motion of an undertaker used to maneuvering dead bodies, Jack heaved the bachelor on the table and grabbed the rope, stretching out an arm to tie to one table leg.

“Wasss going on?” the man asked as Jack grabbed his leg, tying that.

Too late, the man started to struggle, but as soon as Jack had his other arm, he was trapped.

Jack finished with tying the last leg and smiled down at the bachelor. “I’m Jack,” he said warmly, sickeningly excited as he saw the way the bachelor’s clothing trembled with his racing heart beat.

“Is this a kidnapping?” the bachelor asked, still trying to wrap his brain around what was going on. “My father has money, I-”

“Shhhhhhh,” Jack said, leaning in closer. “Now, what is your name.”

“L-Lord Brightworth.”

“Your first name.”

“Arthur.”

“Good. Good. Arthur. No, this isn’t a kidnapping. I’m here for some fun.”

“Fun? I am not a prostitute!”

Jack threw back his head and laughed. The gall of this soft handed pansy. “Oh, no. Torture, Arthur. Torture. Now that is fun.”

He grabbed the bachelor by the throat and felt a thrill of excitement as true terror flooded Arthur’s face. He could feel Arthur’s pulse fluttering under his fingers, like power singing to him.

Jack reached into his pocket for his scalpel and grinned. “Let’s start with this, shall we?”

……………………………………

This was really fun. Jack was so glad that he got the idea to do this. The man under his hands was sobbing weakly, mouth still full of wax that Jack melted and poured into his mouth when he began to scream too loudly. That was hours ago, and Jack was really quite impressed that the bachelor was still alive. He’d expected him to suffocate pretty soon after.

Still, that didn’t stop Jack from treating him like a dead body, cleaning him up, cutting him open and pulling out his intestines and sewing him back up, and a couple of other tasks. Once he was done with that, he simply began the torture again.

He was on Arthur’s last finger, carefully breaking it out of it’s joint before cutting it off. He was uncertain if Arthur could feel his hands anymore with how tight Jack had tied the bindings. His hands were badly swollen and the only thing that really got a shudder out of Arthur was the sound of the bone crackling.

He placed the pinky alongside the other fingers and circle Arthur. “What now, what now. I didn’t really plan for you to last this long.”

Arthur whimpered, but Jack wasn’t sure is Arthur was actually able to understand what was going on anymore. He grabbed Arthur’s chin, looking into his pain squinted eyes and said, “I think all that’s left is your face, dear one. But, I will give you a chance to protect yourself here. You will answer my questions with a nod or a shake of your head and you get to keep bits. Understand?”

Arthur’s dazed eyes didn’t focus, but he did nod once, and shuddering breath escaping his nose.

“Good. Is the sky green?”

Arthur shook his head.

“You keep your right eye, then. Do cows go moo?”

Arthur nodded.

“Well done. Did my cousin die falling out of a tree?”

Arthur hesitated, confused, but slowly shook his head.

“Goooood. Did she die by my blade?”

Arthur nodded, looking paler and sicker.

“No! She suffocated in my cupboard,” Jack called cheerfully, grabbing Arthur’s ear and slicing it clean off.

Aurther screamed through his nose, muffled by the wax and Jack cackled.

He was about to pick up his game again when he heard footsteps on the boards above.

He looked up and cursed, patting Arthur’s cheek. “It’s been fun,” he said quickly, turning to find his scalpel. “But this is where it ends.”

He grabbed his scalpel and reached for Arthur’s throat, but the door slammed open and someone shouted something magical, a force shoving Jack back and holding him against the wall.

A group of mage officers ran in and several of them gagged when they saw the pile of Arthur’s intestines nearby.

“Call for the cleric!” one mage called as he pried wax out of Arthur’s mouth. “He’s still alive! There’s still time!”

Jack used their distraction to hiss out his own counter spell, breaking the hold and scrambled to the window he’d opened. He’d been so stupid! So careless! He couldn’t be caught now! He had something beautiful to accomplish! He knew it!

He threw aside the board and leapt up, sliding through the window just in time to dodge a holy spell.

He cackled as he ran, making a break for the edges of the city. He would never return. They would follow his trail back and know everything he had done, and they would hunt him. And he would make them regret it.

…………………………………………..

Years later, Jack trekked through the snow, winter falling heavy and quiet over the forest he found himself in. He had gone to several schools of magic so far, and though he excelled, he was always banished when he became too bored with the school work. Really, who cared what he did to the lesser students? Such a fuss over nothing.

In his time, though, he had learned what he needed to about his purpose. He needed to enter the fae courts. He needed to take control. Being the fae king was his destiny, and he would complete it at any cost. All he needed was something or someone to raise, to take all of his pain and be his pawn. He just needed one small, weak-willed thing, and the world was his.

Hours later, he hesitated as he heard a soft cry. Turning his feet, he bobbed through the snow covered brush and came out into a clearing, where a tiny golden werewolf sat shivering, weakly crying for his mother.

Jack grinned. His destiny would be fulfilled.

VTB Part 3

Clove Taglist: @wolfeyedwitch @the-blind-one-speaks @whumpsday @extrabitterbrain @inkkswhumpandstuff 

@honeycollectswhump @whump-blog-reblogs @pigeonwhumps @mj-or-say10 @percy-frayer 

Anisha was going to come with him, able to breath water herself as a scaleon descended from a water dragon, but the Kahtir had needed her elsewhere dealing with a problem in a cliff face community that only she had the flying skills to really get to in the first place since their bridges and walkways were taken out during a recent disaster.

Matsu swam leisurely, tail sweeping back and forth gently as he made his way through the darkened waters of the Berian oceans of Cumenah. He hadn’t seen anything strange, watching the regularly scheduled ships passing by gently overhead, their caged off propellers spinning serenely.

Mostly, it was just quiet, and Matsu allowed himself to enjoy the quiet as the ground below began to slope down and away, the kelp farms fading into rocky outcroppings and small pastures for crab like creatures. Out a little farther, and even those pastures disappeared as the bottom became too far away to see. This was where people were going missing.

Matsu pulled himself out of his serene state and put himself on alert, feeling out the currents for any creatures or machines moving nearby as he swam out farther, lazily and slowly, it seemed, like he was just enjoying himself or perhaps just looking for something.

He felt the currents above him shift and look up to see a ship, set to pass right above along side him.

He swam a bit quicker to make sure they wouldn’t pass too close to him, but the ship changed course just enough to stay in line with him.

“Gotcha,” Matsu muttered to himself, pleased. He reached up to his throat where he had a communications band and touched his thumb and forefinger to the stones on either side of his wind pipe. “This is Matsu to home base. Possible suspect has been identified. A fishing ship at coordinates-”

Pain pierced through his torso and overwhelmed his senses as he screamed and let go of the comms band. He grabbed onto a cold metal rod that had been shot through his side and gasped, his damaged gills fluttering and twitching around the metal as his muscled cramped, trying to heal around the intrusion.

He felt along his other side to find what had pierced him and felt barbs on the other end. Barbs that sank into his skin as the harpoon was pulled on hard, dragging him up through the water and putting extra force on his wounded body.

His vision vanished for a moment as pain dragged through his torso and side where the barbs bit into his rib gills, his throat gills fluttering urgently as they tried to keep up with his demand for oxygen. With great effort, he pulled himself from the edge of unconsciousness and grabbed for the smooth end of the harpoon, latching onto it to take some pressure on his gills. He could feel the wounds where the harpoon’s hooks had slid through healing around the pole and hooks, his gills repairing a little, but the pain still shot through his insides like lightning as he held onto the harpoon and tried to make himself more aerodynamic so he wouldn’t be dragged so harshly.

The surface was approaching quickly now that he’d grabbed the line and turned himself to glide through the water and quickly broke the surface.

He chose not to switch to his lungs, still able to breath with his gills as long as they were wet. He knew for a fact that the harpoon had pierced his lungs and breathing might actually make him pass out.

“We got ‘em!” a loud voice called as a huge net was scooped under him to help haul him out of the water.

Matsu tried not to writhe, holding onto the rope, desperate to keep the harpoon from moving, but as he was dragged over the railing, the harpoon jolted out of his grasp and levered up through his organs, causing him to spasm as he was dumped onto the ship deck.

His gills flapped as he tried to collect himself, fighting the urge to have his legs back and breathe through his lungs.

“He’s a pretty one,” someone said, grabbing his finned ear to check out the patterns there. “Too bad he’s dead. He would have-AUGH!”

Matsu snapped his pointed teeth deeper into the woman’s fingers, determined to take a finger for his trouble.

Something hard smacked painfully into the top of his head, causing him to let go of the finger as his vision spun again, pain rippling through his skull and chest.

“He’s still alive! Wait, look at that.”

everyone went still and quiet, watching Matsu as he regained his senses, grabbing onto the smooth side of the harpoon, and just waiting for the strength to come back to where he could try and push it through and cut the rope.

“He’s healing,” someone breathed and Matsu stiffened, snapping his head around to look at the man. His eyes, changed to manage sight underwater, weren’t quite adapted to out of water and he could only make out the blurred colors of brown skin and hair and a bright blue jacket.

“Crap, look at the markings on his arms! Isn’t this one of the Adventurers?”

Matsu’s heart sank. Being caught out as one of the adventurers was not a good thing usually. It typically meant he was about to be bound up and sold on the Darke Market, or he was going have to wriggle out of an attempt on his life.

“It is! Crap! He’s going to tell them we’re here. We need to get out of here!”

“Cut the rope!” someone called as blue jacket grabbed his hair and forced his head down, turned away to where he could only see feet.

He tried to shove the harpoon through, but someone grabbed his wrists, binding them together behind his back as his headband and carack, a cape-like mer-shirt, was torn off of him, his bags undone and tossed away and his comms band cut off his throat, the scissors cutting harshly through his throat gills in their haste.

He choked, his drying out gills already having a hard time keeping up with the demand. He coughed, a small amount of liquid trickling out over his gills to help with his breathing as they finished stripping him. Two people grabbed either end of the harpoon, someone hooking their arm through his elbows and another grabbing his tail and he was lifted up off the slimy deck, set on the railing, and shoved over the edge.

He writhed, trying to dive gracefully into the water, but he smacked into it on his upper back, leaving him disoriented as bubbles went up around him.

By the time he regained some semblance of his senses, he realized that he couldn’t control his decent. The harpoon was too heavy for the movements he could manage while cosplaying as a fish kebab and all he could really do was to try and direct himself. It was going to hurt when he hit the ocean floor.

He looked down, writhing as he shot for a higher point of the sea floor, and curled up just in time to hit it.

The harpoon knocked into a rock, stirring his guts again, causing Matsu to gag and go blind with the pain. He lay still on the sand and rocks, gills flapping gently as the ones on his neck healed up.

He finally lifted his head, coughing through his gills to get the small particles of sand out after they’d been stirred up by his crash landing.

He clicked softly to himself as he gently twisted and tested the range of his movement.

After several gently maneuvers, he got himself on his stomach, the sand tickling his gills as he reached for the smooth end of the harpoon. With his hands bound behind his back, he was able to get a hold on it, but he wasn’t able to push it through.

Undeterred, he reached to the other side, trying to catch the rope on one of the hooks on the harpoon to cut the rope, but of the two rows of hooks, the tip hooks were too small and far away to reach, and the closer ones were buried deep in his flesh. He tried to pull or push it out a little, but once again, he couldn’t get enough leverage to do so.

He finally relaxed, laying his cheek in the sand with a little groan.

He took in his surroundings. His hit off of that rock had rolled him closer to the cliff that led down deeper in the ocean. He could actually peak out over it if he stretched his head a little.

He did so, looking down into the depths as his flesh cramped and grew around the harpoon, sending twinges of pain through him. He didn’t see anything moving down there and wondered how long it would take for the team at home base here on this planet would find him. Hopefully not too long. Or maybe he’d find a sharp rock to cut the-

Matsu startled as something moved under him, an unhappy flat bottom feeder fish who was tired of being laid on.

It moved again, tickling along Matsu’s ribs and making him lash out with his tail. Unfortunately, he tired to escape the sensation in exactly the wrong direction and he yelped as the sand slipped out from under him and he went down over the edge, the harpoon happily dragging him down again.

He had a lot more time to position himself for impact, turning himself onto his back to keep the harpoon from hitting anything first, though it was a constant struggle to hold the position as the hooked end was heavier than the other side.

Finally, the ground met his back, hard knobs of rock meeting Matsu’s spine as he landed heavily.

Matsu gaped, gills flapping in confused shock as pain shot up and down his spine. He held very still until he was certain his back wasn’t broken before he tried to move.

The water weight on top of him was extremely noticeable now, as he was laying at the edge of his depth limit. His gills fluttered and worked harder against the weight on top of them, and every movement sapped more from him.

He finally fell still once he was laying in a slightly more comfortable spot, looking up at the dim light that filtered through the water. If he had his pack, he would have liked to light a glow stick to make it easier to find him, but as it was, all he could do was lay there and hope he would be found. This far down, he knew his red and orange skin wouldn’t be seen that well, with red and orange light waves being unable to penetrate as deep as he was now.

He waited, dizzy and tired, occasionally keening at a frequency he hoped would be heard by rescuers or by a friendly motherly sea creature. He knew there were quite a few around here.

As much as he wanted to stay awake and make sure no predatory fish took their chances with him or smaller bottom feeders had a nibble, the weight of the water and the difficulty breathing lulled Matsu to sleep.

………………………………………….

Matsu was found by home team and thanks to his healing factor did not suffer ill effects. In fact, he commented on how good that deep sea nap felt and was perfectly capable in directing home team to the pirates who had been killing and selling mer. Local police forces could take it from there to track down the people who facilitated this market while Matsu went home and treated himself to several massages and expensive potion ingredient shopping.

Thank you for reading!