#I'm in a very foul mood right now and partner is making it so much worse today

[jedi-bird]

The good news from the garden today is that we're getting the first lime of the year.

The bad news is that Chava might in fact have root rot to go along with her sun damage and I'm not sure I can save her.

She is currently out of her pot. Her damaged roots have been cut away and she been set aside to dry out a bit. I'll treat her next with a fungus and pest treatment and see if that helps. If not, it looks like one of her little offshoots is still healthy so I'll try to remove them just in case (need to go get fresh soil for this and it's turning into a fight to do so).

[brandstifter-sys]

Under Pressure

Chapter 11: Tennis            (Ao3)

Word Count: 1408

Relationships: Royality, implied Royaliceit

Characters: Roman, Patton

Rating: T

Warnings: Villain!Logan, mood swings, emotional confrontation, fire, mild angst

----

It was strange passing through the door, like he was pulled on a different path from the others, like splitting apart from his brother all those years ago. Roman couldn't be sure why he felt that tug in his navel but he knew it meant trouble.

"What the hell is this?" Patton questioned as the two of them entered the room. It was odd. The ceiling was higher than expected, about twenty feet up, and the left wall was a giant mirror. There were six outcoves on the back wall, close to the tile ceiling, all blocked by glass.

"It's a puzzle, Padre, obviously," Roman scoffed and scanned the ground, "Why don't you pretend to have the answers while I figure this out."

"What?" Patton questioned in disbelief. Roman shrugged and carefully paced along the tiles, searching for switches and traps.

"I'm not blind to your tactics," Roman shrugged, "and you played me for a fool for long enough, I ought to know by now." Patton's jaw dropped, too flabbergasted to even squeak indignantly. He glared at the king, fighting back the bile of harsh words brewing in the back of his throat. Roman paid him no mind, more focused on the floor. There were two tiles that were sightly raised and off-color.

“My tactics,” Patton hissed after a beat of silence, “were never meant to influence you that much. I was confused and trapped in a corner. Wasn’t it obvious I was pushing and pushing for my own sake?”

“If it were obvious, then mark me as oblivious,” Roman quipped and stood on one of the raised tiles. It sank under his weight and merged with the rest of the floor.

“If you’re so unsure about what you should be doing, make yourself useful and come here and stand on this switch,” Roman commanded with a regal air that made Patton see red.

“How about you ask nicely instead, since I’m a person, not a dog,” the emo huffed and crossed his arms. Roman stared at him tiredly and rolled his eyes. He was going to be trapped here with Patton for a very long time.

“Would you please make yourself useful and stand on this switch?” he asked as if the words burned his mouth, caramelizing the sickeningly sweet tone he opted for. Patton huffed and marched over to him, gracelessly shoving him aside and standing where he was told. Roman stuck his nose in the air and marched two feet to the other switch.

A satisfying click sounded when Roman's weight caused the switch to slide in place. Then a loud noise overhead caught both of their attention. The glass blocking the outcoves lowered, exposing the candles to the air.

"We need to light them. I could throw you, and that fiery temper of yours would do the trick," Roman mused.

"You're the one who was literally on fire, I should be throwing you!" Patton argued and crossed his arms, "But we shouldn't have to throw anyone."

"Is this another one of your moral lectures?"

"No! Think about it! It's a puzzle! Would Logarithms really want to make any of us use brute force to get back to the main mindscape?!" Patton fumed. There had to be a trick to it all. He couldn't jump high enough to light those tiny candles, and he couldn't throw Roman. Besides, the wind would blow out any matches.

"I suppose you have a point," Roman sighed dramatically and flicked his wrist, conjuring a ball of fire, "It's too far to aim a blast of fire, even if you had the strength to throw me." He lazily bounced the ball on the ground and caught it, using the motions to help him think.

Patton would have corrected him, he was strong enough, but his attention was on the fireball. He couldn't look away from the swirl of flames moving up and down.

"I suppose we'll be here for a while," Roman mused, "you could use it to apologize to me."

"It wouldn't matter, I can only apologize so many times, you don't want to forgive me. I don't want to forgive me, but I know demanding another apology won't change my mind," Patton said and slumped his shoulders, still hypnotized by the fire.

"Patton I trusted you, I believed that you could never steer me wrong. I loved you and you turned my world upside down. Now I have to depend on my own judgement, and I don't know how I can forgive you without becoming dependent on you."

"Then don't. But stop asking me to apologize if you don't want to accept it. I can tear myself apart fine on my own. I hurt everyone and now the only one who actually wants to talk to me is Janus."

"Say one foul word about him and I'll—"

"I hurt him as bad as I hurt you, but he's still willing to hear me out and help me do better," Patton cut him off, blushing brightly, "He really cares deep down and he gives me the honey glows something fierce."

"You dare try to steal my queen?!"

"He's not your property, and last time I checked you decided you hate him and you insulted him repeatedly," Patton snarled and glared at him, "Or is that just how you show people that you love them?" Roman paused and stared at him, never halting with his toy. Patton sniffed and shook his head.

"No, that would mean you love me and I can't handle that kind of revelation," he sighed and blinked back tears. Roman was silent, studying him. The only sound was the impact of the fireball on the floor, echoing in the empty room.

That crackling and echoing bouncing was maddening, like the silence was deafening. Patton's eye twitched as the slow rhythm got louder and louder. He wanted to hear Roman denounce his claims, that he didn't love him. He would have been okay with him changing the subject, or even confirming his statement—anything but the looming doubt and wordless passage of time.

"Roman, stop bouncing the ball," Patton demanded as he shoved his hands in his pockets, clenching his fists to quell the rage bubbling up from his core.

"I need it to think. You don't want to be trapped here forever," Roman answered stiffly, not stopping, "Unless you have an idea, stand down."

Patton snarled and reached into his inventory. He had just the thing to break up that rhythm.

"By Zeus!" Roman yelped as Patton slapped his ball from under his hand, narrowly missing the royal fingers with the rim of a tennis racket.

The fireball hit the wall and hurdled back toward Patton. With a growl, he smacked it away, sending it upward toward the candles.

Roman's jaw dropped as his creation uncurled and vanished, lighting one of the candles. A grin spread across his face as he conjured another.

"How's your aim?" the king asked almost smugly, "You might have found our escape, Sunny Dad Real Estate."

"Better than yours," Patton jeered, already feeling the rush of adrenaline and endorphins filling him. Roman scoffed and tossed the fireball at him. He spiked it up and got another candle.

Roman kept throwing more balls, amused by the change in Patton's expression with each one. His bright smile was returning as well as his bubbliness. Roman's heart swelled when a giggle escaped Patton's lips as the final candle was lit.

"Perhaps you are right," Roman said finally, "Maybe I shower my beloved with ire and ill-tempered words. Perhaps it's my turn to—to apologize to you, Patton." The fire behind his eyes was reduced to embers, and Patton swore he saw the prince in that gaze.

"I'm—I'm sorry for treating you so poorly and demanding so much emotional labor. I would have followed you to the ends of the earth without question, you were my hero. Now I can see that I don't want a hero. I want a partner, perhaps not in a romantic sense, but a companion to support and be supported by."

Patton's jaw dropped at the same time as a door opened on the back wall. Without thinking he tackled Roman into a hug, far too elated to care about the exit appearing.

On the other side of the mirror, Remus watched the pair and groaned. He would need them to get to the next room, his current room, to keep going.

----

(Master Post)

[the-huntress-songblade]

The Owl and the Raven

Part 2

"I go by Reth." He said, offering no further details.

The huntress tilted her head to one side before looking at the satyr, then back to the man called Reth, "You are not one of Salis' hunting trainees... what is your mission?"

He tilted his head slightly, as if confused by her question. "I do not know any such person." Then he nudged the stirring leader, who groaned from his injuries. "My mission? Who needs a mission to hunt these abominations?" Then he blinked at her. "And what is your mission, you sound quite official."

Arrianna looked the man up and down before retraining her bow on the satyr instead, pausing only long enough to pull down her mask so that more than just her amber eyes was visible, "I am Nightstorm, huntress aspirant under Salis Ashenbow's cadre." She looked about at the various crystals, then back to Reth, "The satyr here have been performing Fel magick and it was my mission to collect at least one of these crystals so that we could discover their intents."

He lowered his hands. "Well then, feel free to take your fill. I have no interest in demonic jewelry." The smoldering satyr was groaning and gripping at Reth's boots, like he was struggling to pull himself up. Reth kicked his hand away. "If you don't mind, I'm going to have a conversation with our friend here about where his comrades are hiding. And he's going to be very helpful if he knows what's good for him."

Arrianna's grip on her bow loosened, the string coming to rest back in its ready position as she looked between the elf and his prisoner. She glanced about at the crystals she'd been tasked with collecting, then back to the satyr again. If she had the information from the leader of the satyr about the rest of the vile creatures... Salis would be sure to not only reward her but she also could show her parents that she didn't need to be a druid or priestess to be successful. With several long moments taken to get to this train of thought, she looked back at Reth, voice still stern, "You mind sharing? That information would be invaluable to our people, after all."

Reth the hunter arched an eyebrow as he stared at her, the satyr still uselessly clawing at the ground. "Are you asking to interrogate a prisoner together? Strange idea for a first courting." He said with a chuckle. "What do I get in return for sharing this information?"

Arrianna recoiled slightly, the look on her face clearly one of frustration at his mention of courting, "Excuse me? First courting? You're a bold one..." She pursed her lips together in thought before answering, "What would you want from someone like me... and don't think about cracking wise." Her bow was now back in its sling, but her polearm was at her side, the blade so sharp it looked like it could shave the hide off the satyr before them in a scant second.

He held his hands up apologetically. "Relax, huntress, I was only jesting." He pushed the satyr with his foot, rolling the creature onto its back. "Since I assume you wish to know the information to hunt the satyrs yourself, how about you agree to leave any valuable items they may possess to me." There was a small sound of his stomach growling. Spending so much time in solitude, honing his skills and hunting demons was not precisely a lucrative career decision.

Arrianna looked the man over again, catching the sound of his stomach in her sensitive ears. She frowned, looking back to the satyr before nodding, "Of course... assuming the items are not helpful to my superiors, they are yours." She turned her attention to the satyr, baring her fangs at the creature as he stirred. "Looks like this one is about ready."

Reth planted his foot on the demon's chest, none too gently. "You heard the lady, demon. Speak. Tell us where your disgusting comrades are." The demon managed to raise and turn his head slightly, the better for him to fire a glob of fel-glowing spit onto Reth's boots. "So rude... suppose I shouldn't be surprised." He drew one of his blades and held the tip down against the satyr's throat. "Lets try that again... with a little more civility." The demon unleashed a stream of demonic, what could only be insults.

Arrianna watched the exchange in silence. With a quiet inhale, she grabbed her polearm and brought it to the satyr's foul hide, making a two-inch cut on his arm, drawing blood and a sharp hiss from between his teeth. But she seemed unfazed by his reaction, saying only, "I'd suggest you answer his question, foul beast... and every time you don't, I'll add another cut... a single one won't kill you, but you won't last past the thousandth."

The hunter glanced up at her with a bit of surprise at her ruthlessness. Reth pressed his foot down harder. "It seems my new friend here is even less in the mood for impoliteness.” The satyr swore again and began to speak, entirely in demonic. And though his words were unintelligible, he turned a charred arm and pointed northwest, seemingly in the direction of the woods at the western base of the mountain. "That wasn't so hard was it?" He removed his blade and his foot and turned to the woman. "Any other questions?"

Arrianna thought about it for several moments before shaking her head, "No... no, I think not." She tied her polearm to her back before moving to tuck the glowing crystals in the vicinity into a leather satchel.

The satyr had a momentary look of relief. A look that was short-lived. Reth nodded and looked down at the demon. "Thank you." His sword sliced through the air and cut across the demon's flesh, trachea, and arteries. Blood flowed from the wound and pooled around his body as jerky thrashes overtook him for a moment. Then his strength gave out and he fell still. "Been hunting this one for three days,” Reth mused.

Arrianna's face held an impressed expression, and she looked him over again as she tied the satchel to her waist, "Only three days? I wasn't even sent here for him... just the lesser satyr. Salis will be quite impressed that we got to one of the leaders." She tilted her head again, looking Reth over in confusion, "How is it you don't have a superior officer to report to?"

He arched a brow again, equally confused and amused by her question. "Because some of us have no interest in following along like a child. I'm quite fine pursuing my own goals, on my own schedule." He paused for a moment, blinking. "And what's this about 'we'? Did we become partners at some point?"

The huntress made a scoffing noise at him, hands landing on her hips, "I'm sorry, did I confuse us as being of the same people? Can't imagine why I would've done that." She stared at him for several long seconds and retorted, "And using 'we' is just a... a habit, I suppose..." She frowned, looking the man over again, taking in the full sight of his form wrapped in worn leather armor.

He sheathed his blades at his belt and moved to spy around one of the tents at the rest of the camp. The satyrs seemed to have assumed he'd escaped into the woods as the camp was mostly empty save a few sentries left behind. "Yes, well, my 'people' aren't really my people. So you might say I'm better off on my own. Now, WE should probably make ourselves scarce before they come back even angrier."

Arrianna blinked as he started looking about the rest of the camp, and gave a nod, following after him quietly, "Yes, you're probably right."

Reth glanced over his shoulder as she followed him, then quickly stood and made his way out of the camp, heading west.

She had little trouble keeping up with him, pausing only to grab more crystals on their path - she knew the fewer the satyr had, the more advantage her people could get over them, however small that might be. But as they walked, her mind was on something else... something he'd said. "Thank you." she offered simply as they made their way west.

The hunter looked over his shoulder as she spoke, making their way around the shore of the lake. He looked mystified. "For what?"

"For sharing... you didn't have to do that."

He shrugged, as if it didn't seem like a big deal to him. "Uhm... you're welcome. It’s just information, as long as you're not going to get in my way, I don't see the problem... and I'd prefer if you not tell any one of your... superiors about me."

Arrianna frowned more, tugging her hood from her head so she could shake out her short silvery-white hair. Her golden eyes shone back at him confusedly, "What exactly is your issue with our people?"

He cleared his throat as they walked through the forest paths, toward the northern woods. "Those people have an issue with me. They think me corrupted simply because I refuse to hide timidly in the trees. Fine with me, I can get more done without 'orders'."

Arrianna tilted her head to the side, brow furrowed deeply on her visage, "Why would anyone think you corrupted? You are as talented a hunter as any of the rest of us... perhaps more, considering how quickly you located the leader of that group of satyr." She sounded genuinely confused as to why anyone would feel alienated against him. She thought about it further, remembering the look in his silver eyes and suddenly wondering where she'd seen that look before.

He remained silent for a moment, a bit longer than he usually took to answer. "Because they seem to think that hiding like frightened children is preferable to employing ALL possible weapons in order to drive the terrors from our home. Stormrage was right to turn the demons' power against them... and they call him Betrayer."

At this Arrianna blinked in surprise, staring at the hunter's back as they stopped in their walking. "... you... I know where I've seen you... I saw several of you whispering amongst yourselves some weeks ago... something about the Stormrage brother... the one who traded away his sight." She frowned again, jogging to stand before him and look at him more fully, her tone both stern and reassuring, "There's nothing wrong with seeking to destroy our enemies, you know." Her piercing amber gaze was unwavering as she looked back at him, her youth betrayed with her face fully visible - she could not be much more than three hundred years old, barely past her Coming of Age. Her facial tattoo still looked fresh on her face, framing her eyes like the feathers of an owl.

He glared at her from beneath his mask and hood, and after a moment finally pulled both free to reveal his smooth face and mane of messy, shoulder length black hair. "Yes. And a waste of time. Some of the more... zealous followers seem to believe they can break Illidan from his prison... a fool's errand. I would rather seek out his source of power directly." He paused in his explanation as he looked over the girl, apparently younger than him by a small amount. "You would think that would be true, but apparently leaving ourselves vulnerable is a fine price to pay to remain 'honorable'... which I'm sure the thousands who've died appreciate."

Arrianna looked taken aback at the hunter's brazenness. And at his overall physical wildness. But seemed ensnared by his sharp mercurial gaze. It took a few times of her mouth opening and closing before she said, "That... that's exactly right! Where our elders continue to try to stick to outdated traditions... where someone like me should be dressed in a priestess' garb and singing prayers to the White Lady, or at the very least training under her father to follow in the footsteps of Cenarius' teachings, to be of any value to society... why must we hide and remain passive in our pursuit of safety and happiness in life?!" She looked him over again, a slight hint of color painting her purple cheeks. "You... you said your name was Reth?"

He nodded along, seemingly impressed with how agreeable she was. "Reth'lazar. The whole thing is a bit much. Reth is fine." He cleared his throat again. "Nice to meet someone who seems to see some sense. Besides, I don't think you'd look as good in a priestess’ robes." Then he raised his eyes as if he were trying to look at himself. "Not that I can talk much."

Arrianna smirked at his comment, shaking her head. "No, that's... I think you look just fine." Even as she said it, she averted her amber gaze to one side awkwardly, glancing back up the path they'd been walking. She looked back at him curiously, hand motioning toward Hyjal, "Where, eh... where do you call home? Near the base?"

He ran his fingers through his wild hair, as if somewhat surprised at the compliment. "Thanks. And... not exactly. I live wherever I find a piece of cover to sleep beneath."

The huntress took a turn to run her gloved hand through her own hair, glancing up the path, "Well, Reth'lazar... I still need to turn these crystals in to my superior... are you hungry?"

"Reth, please. Ahem... I suppose a meal wouldn't go amiss."

Anna smirked again, nodding, "Well then... my name is Arrianna. Arrianna Nightstorm. And I'm inviting you to dinner. As thanks." She looked back up the path, "The glade a little further north is where I call home... and anyone who helps hunt the satyrs is welcome."

He nodded with a slight grin. "So long as you don't plan to try and recruit me, I'll be glad to accept."

"Psh." She chuckled and shook her head, "I'm not an officer, I'm just an aspirant... a trainee. I'm a nobody."

He moved to follow her this time. "I don't think that's likely."

[heavens-in-my-mind]

It was a rather calm day at the precinct. After a completely chaotic week following the big Android revolution, Connor was actually relieved to have a little time to rest his circuits, even though he didn't really feel tired. Hank was in a rather foul mood that day, after drinking himself to sleep and waking up with a killer hangover, so the Android decided to be useful and fetch a coffee for his partner.

Since it was pretty early in the day and all helping Androids had been freed, coffee still hadn't been made that day, so it was up to Connor to get that task done. He had just pressed the button on the coffee machine when, suddenly, a female and slightly familiar voice called from behind him.

"Oh, good morning Dt. Turney!" The Android greeted with his usual kind and polite manners. "I was just making some coffee for Lt. Anderson. He's not in a very good mood, I'm afraid. Would you like some?"

Isles was a familiar face to Connor, but not a very close acquaintance. Even though he saw the Detective quite frequently at the precinct and, sometimes, at cases, they had never really exchanged much more than a few words. In the beginning, it was clear to Connor that Dt. Turney wasn't very fond of Androids, so he chose to keep his distance.

However, now that the revolution was over and Androids were in the way to earn equal rights, he somehow hoped that her opinion would change. She was a very pretty woman, Connor noticed.

Connor X OC RP starter

When you’re created with the sole purpose of obeying orders and completing a mission that’s been given to you by a huge corporation, getting used to being a truly free and sentient being, that has all types of thoughts and emotions can be a pretty hard thing.

Connor was trying to adapt to his new life as a Deviant, and for most of the time, he was doing fine. However, things became a lot less black and white when you maybe to use your emotions instead of simple coding and programming. It was definitely a learning curve.

But at least working at the police department was still relatively the same. Receiving cases every week, analysing the crime scenes and catching the bad guys. A pleasant pattern, as Connor would say. Except, this time, he wasn’t catching Deviants for the sole purpose of them being Deviants. Now he caught Deviants who broke the law. Just like any human criminal.

@dpd-detective-in-training