faerglaz

[faerglaz]

@broken-locks

Gargoyle laughed, shaking his head. "I have found no wife, but there is a secret aboard Pixie's ship. You know she is my sister, but we recently came across a friend from a time long forgotten. Do you remember the slave that Frog picked up from Jay'rein when it was attacked? He went through every pirate's ship, I'm sure you've seen him. He was given as a gift to Pixie, but she recognized him as the prince of Jay'rein. She is to marry him by the end of the month. Much is happening, and I would invite you onto Pixie's ship. I'll need the extra help as she prepares for her wedding."

Gargoyle paused, glancing out into the lobby. "Unless you are busy with your own plans, my friend. A wedding is no small task."

Space is Great!

@flynntkotzaff Morning at the tavern was busy, rowdy, and an overall great morning to the crew. Piper was enjoying his time, laughing and talking with his family and fellow crew-mates. His parents were enjoying their break there, too, as Piper called out a toast. There was a cheer, and then a universal swig of rum or another alcohol. Piper hummed, fighting off the urge to drink any rum yet. It was still early…

[faerglaz]

@broken-locks

"I won't lie, friend, it has been an adventure. I have no lass of my own, but that is fine by me... Ah, you see, I must tell you something. Come to the back with me." Gargoyle stood, walking towards the kitchen.

---

Pixie and Wolf held hands as they walked behind the building. The barrier wasn't far, just a few minutes of hiking. They were mostly quiet, every now and then, Wolf would ask Pixie if she needed help along the hidden path.

"What are we going to say?" Wolf asked softly, gripping Pixie's hand.

"I don't know," Pixie responded, her voice despondent. "I wish the barrier would just go away. He seems so kind."

Space is Great!

@flynntkotzaff Morning at the tavern was busy, rowdy, and an overall great morning to the crew. Piper was enjoying his time, laughing and talking with his family and fellow crew-mates. His parents were enjoying their break there, too, as Piper called out a toast. There was a cheer, and then a universal swig of rum or another alcohol. Piper hummed, fighting off the urge to drink any rum yet. It was still early…

[faerglaz]

@broken-locks @a-familiar-set-of-apartments

The Player screamed curses the whole time that he was restrained, struggling against the magic. It was something he definitely hadn't trained for. He glared at Amy, who seemed frozen to the spot. Anonymous had already run backstage. "This isn't the end," he hissed loud enough for her to hear.

Nonexistent anomaly. Before Aiden could say more, the Player rasped, "You don't know what you've walked into, sorcerer. Ask them who they are and you'll see. You'll see!" He yelled as Aiden's fist found it's target. His body slumped, and his voice faded to silence.

-

Anonymous yanked himself away from Amy, bolting into the darkness of the backstage. He avoided where he heard Journal's voice, a hand holding the chipping mask to his face. He felt pieces of the glass breaking off, heard them twinkling as they hit the floor.

He slammed the door of a bathroom, loosing his grip on the mask. It shattered completely, the pieces spilling into the sink and onto the floor. Damien's eyes were bloodshot, black blood oozing from his nose and various cuts on his face. His lips were cracked, and he could taste blood.

Disgust filled his mind, and he quickly scrubbed his face, washing away the scrapes. He pulled a bottle from his pocket, a makeup concealer. Patting it over his face, he desperately attempted to look more normal. His nose, however, continued to bleed. "I can make up an excuse," he muttered to himself. After he was satisfied with his appearance, he lifted the pieces of the mask from the floor, dropping them into the waste can.

He opened the door after changing his outfit, back to what he was wearing when he left Aiden and Journal earlier that night. Her moseyed back to the stage, faking a surprised look as he noticed Amy, Aiden, and the intruder. "Whoa, what happened? Anonymous ran out, what happened to his mask?" Damien held a tissue to his nose, shrugging his shoulders. A smile played at his lips as he said, "And I walked into the door again, I've got to adjust the lights backstage. There's way too many shadows."

Amy failed to make a noise. She had frozen in place, and she looked as white as a sheet. Her hands shook at her sides, and fear clouded her eyes.

@faerglaz​ @broken-locks​

Aiden had tried to ask Amy what she meant, alarmed and extremely concerned, but she just ran off. He quickly followed her. If there was any way he could help save these three from whatever danger they were in, he wasn’t about to hesitate.  And once he and Amy walked in on a fight, he was glad he hadn’t.  Hands flaring up in blue magic, the questor wasted no time before casting a few spells. With a flick of a hand, Anonymous appeared next to Amy. “Go get him cleaned up,” he called over his shoulder, “I’ll handle this one.” Another flick and a torrent of azure smoke surrounded the Player, trapping his arms and legs. Eyes blazing, Aiden started towards the violent stranger. He had no sympathy for people that beat on others. “If she’s nothing,” he retorted, “then I can’t even fathom what you must be. Maybe some sort of nonexistent anomaly?” He made a none-too-gentle yanking motion. The player was roughly pulled from the wall. Aiden quickly closed the space between them, glaring at his opponent. He clenched one of his hands into a fist. The mist tightened its hold uncomfortably. “What do you say we turn out the lights?” he growled. With that, Aiden drew back a fist and slammed it into the side of the player’s head. Not hard enough to seriously damage him, but definitely enough knock him out. 

Journal, meanwhile, was unaware of everything onstage. He’d finished up moving things back into storage and was all wrapped up in fixing the lights. Er. Somewhat literally, too. The wires that connected them all had gotten tangled around his feet. There was plenty of muffled curses as the sorcerer tried to free himself. He only ended up tripping over himself. “Gh- why do these wires just stick to you?!” he grumbled. Waving a hand angrily at the wires, reddish sparkles weakly tugged them off of him. A few even bounced off across the ground. They illuminated something that made him freeze up all over again. A shadow was out of place. And not just any shadow. It seemed about the same size as…  “How- how’d you get out of that closet?!” he yelped, jumping to his feet. 

[faerglaz]

Pixie's heart swelled as the tavern erupted in excited cheers. She loved these people so much. Grabbing Wolf's arm, she started to dance.

Gargoyle had taken to standing by the door, glancing around the tavern. After a few moments, he noticed Piper. A smile lit up his face, and he moved over to the table, settling down next to Piper. "I haven't seen you in years, friend! How goes this life?" He smiled, nodding toward Piper's family. They had been his own family for a long time, until he had learned the truth through Pixie's advent.

Wolf caught a hold of Pixie's arm and pulled her away, towards a dark corner. "Evanna, we should visit the barrier. We told him we would."

Pixie paused, then nodded. "You're right. Um, I'll figure out a way, we'll stop before we leave."

Space is Great!

@flynntkotzaff Morning at the tavern was busy, rowdy, and an overall great morning to the crew. Piper was enjoying his time, laughing and talking with his family and fellow crew-mates. His parents were enjoying their break there, too, as Piper called out a toast. There was a cheer, and then a universal swig of rum or another alcohol. Piper hummed, fighting off the urge to drink any rum yet. It was still early…

[faerglaz]

Pixie stood proudly at the helm, her hair whipping this way and that in the breeze. She glanced over at Gargoyle, who seemed content to look miserable. “Cheer up, brother!” She sang, a smile lighting up her face. “We’ll find a replacement for dear old Crab any day now!”

Crab, of whom she spoke, had taken a foul turn, becoming violent towards the Pirate Queen, who, admittedly, would have none of that. She simply left him at a popular trade-route island, where the next Nollixean Navy ship would pick him up and deposit him safely behind iron bars. 

Down on deck, Wolf leaned against the edge of the railing, watching as the land came closer. It was a popular port for pirates, with abundant suppliers and even new recruits. This island was split down the middle by a barrier, and here was where the pirates came to be named. Wolf hadn’t come here to be named, he had simply decided on naming himself. Pixie didn’t really seem to care, considering they both knew they were just playing an exaggerated game.

Wolf sighed, moving away from the banister and wrapping a shawl around his shoulders. For some reason or another, Pixie still hadn’t provided him with a proper shirt. He could understand why. Their wedding was set for a week’s time from that day, and he was as eager as she was to be done with it. The ceremony was to be a secret, as there would be some fiery individuals who would be completely against the Pirate Queen marrying a seemingly no one. Wolf let his mind wander back to Jay’rein, of days spent as royalty. Those days would come again, when Pixie revealed herself to her kingdom... or, rather, both kingdoms.

The ship was pulled gently towards the dock, and a group of able bodied men tied it fast to the wooden bridge that led into town. Pixie nearly jumped for joy as she gazed at her town. Everything was hears, in all honesty. She owned Nollixea as its queen, and she owned the pirate’s world, too. Her crew made its way towards their favorite tavern, Pixie leading the way with a jolly skip. 

Space is Great!

@flynntkotzaff Morning at the tavern was busy, rowdy, and an overall great morning to the crew. Piper was enjoying his time, laughing and talking with his family and fellow crew-mates. His parents were enjoying their break there, too, as Piper called out a toast. There was a cheer, and then a universal swig of rum or another alcohol. Piper hummed, fighting off the urge to drink any rum yet. It was still early…

[faerglaz]

“Can I tell you a secret?” Amy blurted out, gasping and slapping her hands over her mouth. She felt so tired of the charade, of lying to everyone. How to recover, how to recover... there was no way. Her mind ran panicked circles in her head as she said, “Damien and I are in trouble and I think Anonymous is in danger!” She bit her lip, hard, and shook her head. “I have to get to the stage, please, help us!” 

She remembered the mask in the crowd. An assassin from a long time ago. And a long lost friend who had been tainted with jealousy. Her hands were shaking, as she recalled sparring with the Player. She would always win, only because she was not human, like the Player was. The Player’s skills were honed from birth, it seemed. She didn’t want to know what a fight between Anonymous and the Player would look like. It wouldn’t be good.

“You have magic, right? Please, you’ve got to help us!” Amy couldn’t stand still, and she ran towards the door that led to the stage. 

---

Anonymous knew about the Player in the crowd. It was hard to miss someone who looked so out of place, yet so disguised and unknown. Turning his head, he glimpsed the Player standing at the edge of the stage. “Took ya long enough,” Anonymous muttered, his voice splintering the silence. 

The Player tilted his head, then shrugged his shoulders. “I’d hate to expose you in front of all your fans. You know, like you did to me.” The Player’s voice, which was rather deep, lilted into a sneer by the end of his comment. He laughed, pulling out a small handgun. “You really want another go at this? Please, Natalie knows that I can beat you any day of the week.”

“You say that, and this is, what, the fifth time we’ve fought? Best start acting up to your words, friend,” Anonymous turned around, clenching his fists and slipping into a fighting stance. “Let’s face it, both you and Natalie know I’ll keep winning.” Fire crackled to life at his fingertips, blazing white. The light from the fire glinted off of Anonymous’ mask, offering an unnerving appearance. 

Without another word, the Player lunged towards Anonymous, switching out his gun for small blades. Anonymous bent backwards, avoiding the tips he knew to be coated in a sedative. “We could have been great friends, you know. You could have helped us!” Anonymous flattened himself against the floor, bringing his legs up and kicking the Player squarely in the chest. The Player staggered back, cradling his ribs for a moment. There were definitely a few broken. He growled, swinging his arm away from his side and sending a volley of small knives towards Anonymous. 

Anonymous jumped further to the side, barely missing the blades. The air around him swirled, knocking the blade back towards its thrower. He readied himself for another attack as he heard a door slam open. Amy stood in the doorway, and just behind her was Aiden. Anonymous froze for a few seconds, shouting, “Amy! Get out!” The pause in action allowed the Player to smash his fist into Anonymous’ mask. This action knocked Anonymous back, and he landed on his back, gasping as he felt the mask crack. He could feel blood trickling from his nose, and he tasted it in his mouth.

Amy gasped, shaking her head. She should have been quieter. Had she learned nothing? She took a step forwards, as if she would join the fight, but stopped when Anonymous fell to the ground. She sent a shard of light hurtling across the stage, and it caught hold of the Player’s shirt, pinning him to a pillar a few feet behind him. 

The Player muttered curses as he looked back at Amy, pointing at her and screaming, “You’re nothing now! Just a wandering orphan who is running from death!”

@faerglaz @broken-locks

The show was a complete hit with both the sorcerers; though for very different reasons. Journal was spellbound by the whole performance. The elegance, the lights, the music, the dancing…! It was everything the young sorcerer loved and more. For Aiden, the music was less impressive, and  more… anchoring. Though he never went up to look, he was listening the whole time. The steady rhythm steadied him. He was grateful for it. They were both a little sad to see the show end. 

“Huh?” Journal looked over as Amy spoke. He’d been lost in thought. It took him a minute to register what she’d said. “Oh! Yeah, right,” he said, smiling sheepishly. “Sorry. Kinda got lost in my own world… I’ll go down first-” And with that, he scrambled down the ladder. Maybe I’ll get to see Anonymous again, he thought to himself, and actually talk to him about the show! The idea made him beam. “Aiden? You down here?”

Aiden, who’d been waiting next to the ladder, reached over and tapped his companion’s shoulder. He chuckled as Journal jumped. “Nah, I left an hour ago,” he joked. “I’ve been here the whole time.” He glanced up at Amy. There was something off about her smile. While he didn’t know her well, he could still tell something was off. He resolved to try and talk to her about it. Might as well, if they were to be neighbors. And it never hurt to be nice. “… but seriously, you should go get a head start on cleaning. I’ll make sure Amy doesn’t have anything for me to do.” He ruffled Journal’s hair, smirking at his indignant squeaks. He watched Journal run off. Leaning against the wall, he watched Amy come down. “… You alright?” he asked, an eyebrow raised. “You’re not looking too happy.” 

[faerglaz]

Amy glanced back down at Aiden, worry lacing her multi-colored eyes. She got to the top of the ladder in mere seconds, gazing over the stage. She offered a hand to help Journal up, then pointed towards the stage. “Do you see? Damien adjusts the lighting backstage, and it’s Anonymous’ job to keep up the beat and stay on track. They spend hours practicing, and it really pays off. I could watch them for hours...” Amy settled down, dangling her legs over the stage as she rested her chin on the railing. “He gets better and better, y’know?”

--

Anonymous twirled on stage, the microphone catching every note that he sang. The crowd loved it. They always did. The lights faded and the music slowed. He stretched his hand upwards, towards the light. The subtle move was actually him preparing to use the lights again. Damien wasn’t backstage. Everything was happening on stage, the lights, the voice, the dream... It was good to live a dream. 

The crowd hushed, and small lights began to flash along the edge of the stage. They matched the beat that began rolling from the speakers. Anonymous spun around, facing the crowd in the darkness. “No matter how dark it is,” He sang out, his voice penetrating the darkness. “I promise that I’ll find you, I’ll find you!” The spotlights powered on, by the flick of Anonymous’ wrist, and the lights converged on the singer as he struck a pose. “I promise you, darling, I’ll find you!” The bass dropped, the music soared, and Anonymous sang another series of verses. 

He smiled behind the mask. Feeling the song pounding through his head and his chest was one of the most comforting things he had found. He continued the charade for another hour or so. At this point, he was exhausted. Gasping for breath, he shouted, “Thank you all, and come back tomorrow night!” The stage lights shut off as the lights in the audience flickered on. The crowds began to shuffle out, and on the stage, enveloped in darkness, Anonymous went to work picking up various equipment he had used during the show. 

--

Amy smiled brightly as the show ended. A face in the crowd caught her eye, however, especially as they didn’t make any move to leave with the crowd. Something deep in Amy was suddenly unsettled, and she stood up abruptly. 

She murmured under her breath, gripping the handrail until her knuckles turned white. As the last fragment of the audience filed out, most of the lights shut off. The individual who had caused Amy such alarm was no longer where he had been sitting. “W-Well,” Amy said, forcing a smile. “I guess we oughtta go help clean up, yeah? Let’s- Let’s head down there, m’kay?”

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Journal and Aiden had taken a bit of an opportunity to relax before the show started. The two didn’t seem to leave each other’s sides. Amy’s presence did a little to calm them, but it was clear they were still wary of some second attack. 

But Journal snapped right back to his bouncy and excited self once Anonymous went to start. He was about to see a second show in one night! This hadn’t ever happened before. Not to mention he could get some ideas from it. The show biz was exciting from every angle when you wanted to be a show sorcerer. He clambered up the ladder with Amy, eager to get a peek at what was going on. “C’mon Aiden!” he shouted down to his companion, “you’re gonna miss it all!!!” 

Aiden, still standing at the foot of the ladder, just waved a hand. “You go on up! The ladder doesn’t need any more people on it!” he called back. But… he seemed hesitant to leave the floor at all. Journal might’ve bounced back, but the sorcerer was very clearly still on edge. How could he relax when someone had just tried to kill him? What if there were more killers around? The questor inside him was saying that the whole place could be rigged with traps of some sort. It was getting sort of hard to ignore. At least Journal’s happy, and the music is good, he thought, sighing. That’s… That’s something. 

[faerglaz]

Anonymous craned his neck, looking at Amy. She nodded and walked towards a sink, filling up a few cups with water. She walked over, the cups floating after her. One of the cups settled on the floor next to Anonymous, and the other two floated in front of Journal and Aiden. Amy dropped to the floor next to Anonymous, the entirety of the movement filled with graceful tact.

Anonymous extended his gloved hands towards Aiden, shaking it loosely. "Anonymous... the point is that I could be anyone." He tilted his head slightly, pulling his hand away abruptly. "Damien told me about you. You're neighbors, right?"

Amy nodded slightly, then perked up. "Oh! I'll be staying with Damien, too. So maybe we'll all be able to hang out!" She smiled brightly, as though nothing was wrong.

-

After a little while, Anonymous excused himself to start the show. Amy formed more lights, then invited Aiden and Journal to join her in the rafters.

"I promise that it's safe," Amy said, trying to be louder than the music. Anonymous' voice echoed through the back of the stage, but not as loud as it was in the auditorium. Amy took a few steps up the ladder, glancing back at the two. "You can see the front of the stage really well from up there."

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Journal watched Anonymous, arms still wrapped around Aiden. He sat up slowly, taking some deep breaths as he considered his words. He’d heard them before, but… never in a real context. Suddenly, they made a lot more sense. They seemed to steady him. Alright. He’d keep up his own show. Roll with the punches. It’d be easy. … Right?  “… I… I think I’ll take you up on the drink offer…” the sorcerer mumbled. He let go of Aiden, carefully smoothing his ruffled hair. “N-need a little water…” 

Aiden gave him a gentle pat on the back. “I think I’ll second that. Water would do us both some good.” Now that he was able to calm down a little, the full weight of what had almost happened was creeping up on him. He looked a tad pale in the dim light. Never did he think he’d come this close to losing it all in a theater of all places. He gently pushed the incident to a corner of his mind. Now wasn’t the time to deal with it. Though… the questor couldn’t help but glance around. He was gonna be on edge for awhile. “… I’m gonna hope no more… er… ‘surprise guests’ show up.” He tried for a chuckle. “Might not go as well in the middle of a show.” Hesitantly, he held out his hand to Anonymous. “I don’t think we’ve been properly introduced? I’m Aiden, if your friend didn’t tell you,” he added. 

[faerglaz]

Amy dragged the limp body back, catching sight of the microphone that she gave Damien lying on top of a few props. She snatched it up, settling it on her own head. Couldn’t let them know that Damien was Anonymous. No... 

She huffed quietly, yanking open the door and gently tossing the body inside. It wasn’t the first time. She squinted her eyes, trying to focus on his face. Who was he? Aside from an assassin sent from her estranged mother, that is. Or, step-mother. This was getting confusing. 

“Who are you?” She asked softly. “We’re just kids... leave us alone.” She stepped out of the room, closing the door gently. She locked it, slipping the key into a pocket. After another deep breath, she started walking back towards the group. 

-

Anonymous tilted his head slightly at Aiden’s question. “Everything’s a part of the show. You have to learn to improvise when surprise guests show up.” He slanted his eyes towards Journal. Damien felt so different with the mask. He wasn’t Damien. He wasn’t a prince like this. Unless, that is, he could be the prince of lies. “You should sit down. We have a little while before the show. Would you like something to drink?” 

He sank gently to the floor, crossing his legs and leaning forward. He searched their faces. Did they regret coming? He couldn’t remember what shock felt like. It had been a very long time since he had felt panic like that. He just took everything in stride, now. There was no time to feel. “Rule number one of show business.” Anonymous held up his index finger, watching Journal from behind his mask. “The show must go on. If you can, use that nervous energy to perform even better than normal.” 

Amy walked back in as Anonymous’s electronic voice faded. “People are starting to show up. I’ve already opened the doors, so we’ll have to keep our voices down.” She settled down next to Anonymous, and glanced at him casually. Everything in her wanted to scream at him to stop lying, but she had to admit. He was getting better and better. 

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Aiden watched Amy kick the stranger, barely able to catch the moment with his eyes. His feet shifted him out of the way, and he was kicking the man’s daggers out of reach before his brain caught up to him. Many questions crowded into his head. But he pushed them away. Amy could handle the man for a little. He had to get to journal. Rushing to his companion’s side, he gave him a half-frantic look over. “Are you alright, Journal?” he asked, a tinge of anxiety in his voice. “You’re not hurt, right?” 

Journal was still half frozen on the floor. Eyes wide, he stared up at Aiden. He was trembling. He tried to respond, but all that came out of his mouth were odd squeaking sounds. The sorcerer just reached up to cling to Aiden. The older sorcerer hugged him back, murmuring words of comfort. Journal buried his face in his shoulder. He wasn’t moving from there anytime soon. It took him a moment to regain his voice. “W-what in the w-world was th-that?!” he whimpered. 

“I… don’t know…” Aiden took a shaky breath. Looking up, another stranger was standing there. He gave him a long, hard look. It was then that he realized the stranger had spoken to them. Not only that, but this had to be the “Anonymous” Damien mentioned. Hesitantly, he spoke up. “We’re… we’re fine. Just a little shaken,” he said haltingly. “I’m, uh, gonna go out on a limb here, but I’m guessing whoever that was is not part of the show…?” 

[faerglaz]

Amy had already shifted to a fighting stance, the transition completely flawless. Darkness swirled in her hands as she stared at the intruder. When he jumped up and brandished the daggers, she sneered. Daggers were nothing. 

But then he stopped. He caught her off guard. She relaxed her shoulders, squinting at him slightly. What was he seeing? Was that recognition in his face? She shook herself out of wondering and promptly followed through with a roundhouse kick. The stranger landed on the floor with a thud, and she stared down at him in confusion. Shaking the darkness out of her fists, she bent down towards the man, brushing away his white hair to look at his face. 

Oh, he’d be fine. However... Her eyes trailed down his still form, and she pulled a rolled up piece of paper from his pocket. Unrolling it, her stomach rolled. She recognized the pictures. Damien was in one of them, a rather shady surveillance camera that just barely did him justice. And for her, it was a royal portrait. A copy of one, anyway. She clenched the papers in her fist, and they caught fire immediately, the ashes scattering themselves along the floor. 

Suddenly, she remembered her guests. Jumping up, she spun around, as graceful as a ballerina. “I swear I can explain!” She cried, staring at Journal and Aiden. This was bad. How could she explain? 

“Amy.” Anonymous’s computer generated voice lilted as he stepped out. “I think the show is just about ready to gooo-ohh... what happened?” He tilted his head, the mask covering the confused look on his face. 

Amy looked at Anonymous with some sense of alarm. “He just fell out of the rafters, and I reacted! What else was I supposed to do? He had a bow and arrow, and he’s got daggers, and... he’ll be out for a while.” She sheepishly glanced towards the arrow that was sunk into the flooring. “I’m going to go lock him in your dressing room.” She took this moment to leave, dragging the assassin off with her. 

Anonymous paused, watching her leave. He turned to look at Aiden and Journal, and, even though his voice was barren of human emotion, a few notes of concern drifted through, “Are you all right?”

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Journal didn’t care how simple the back room was, he looked excited and impressed anyways. He busied himself with carefully looking around the space. He was only half listening as Amy explained what the space was. 

Aiden, however, was distracted with all of Amy’s lights. They were setting off a small alarm bell… something about dark blood…? He shook it off. It wasn’t worth worrying about right now. “It sounds like it serves its purpose well,” he said, returning Amy’s smile. He opened his mouth to say more, but something else interrupted. 

An arrow had sunk into the floor next to him. A second later, someone had fallen between them. Both sorcerers jumped a little in shock. Journal scrambled backwards, yelping, while Aiden tried to ask what was going on. Then… the stranger hopped up.  And their daggers gleamed in the multicolored lights. 

Aiden took a hasty step back at the sight of the weapons, his fists flaring up with blue magic. But he wasn’t far enough away to be out of range, and he knew it. “JOURNAL, MOVE-!”

But Journal was frozen in place, stuck on the floor where he’d tripped and fallen over his own feet. He felt trapped in his own body. His gaze was locked on the shining metal, the maniac smile of the stranger, and the murderous intent on their face. The sorcerer knew what the stranger’s plan was. What else could it be but death?  A scream started to bubble up in his throat as he watched the scene unfold. 

[faerglaz]

Damien walked silently into the dressing room, his eyes wandering across the boxes he had brought. A mask was settled comfortably on top of the piles of boxes. Damien brushed his fingers against it. 

“Everything’s a facade. You’re doing it for you... right?” Damien asked the empty air. He picked up the mask and settled it on his face. The microphone that was built into the mask beeped softly, as if to remind him that he wasn’t completely alone. Amy knew. She had to understand, right? 

Damien quietly sang to himself as he put on the various pieces of the Anonymous act. A stylized jacket that glittered in the light exposed his bare chest. His baggy pants were tucked into a pair of matching boots. Flipping up the hood to his jacket, he brushed his black hair away from the mask. 

“Ooh-ooh... it’ll all be all right, ooh-ooh... darling, I’ll be by your side...” Damien spun in front of a full length mirror. The jacket flared dramatically, its coattails spiraling behind him. He grimaced a little bit, stomping his foot. He wanted to shatter the mirror. He never wanted to see Anonymous’s mask again. Who was this even for?

-

Amy grinned a wide, happy grin as she nodded. “Let’s go! I can show you the sound room, it’s so cool. Do you all have a show?” She led the way, her sneakers squeaking not so sneakily. She pointed towards the open sound booth. “It’s not so much of a room, but it’s pretty neat! It is kinda dark back here...” Amy twirled her hands, and sparkling, multi-colored lights glimmered into existence. They extended into the rafters, providing a beautiful atmosphere to the back of the stage. She smiled brightly, glancing up. 

Almost as if remembering that she had guests, Amy spun around, the same smile making her eyes twinkle. “So this is back stage! It’s really not much, but sometimes it’s a good place to read and plan. Damien spends a lot of time planning, so he spends a lot of time back here. He’s probably helping out Anonymous, I guess.” 

She wanted so desperately to tell them that Anonymous and Damien were not different. She wanted to tell them about a fallen kingdom, a wicked queen, and runaway royals. She wanted to tell them that their powers were genetic, that their people were dying, that Damien was getting better and better at running and hiding. 

But she couldn’t.

So she smiled. She smiled and talked, and wanted to keep her new friends busy. She didn’t want a moment where she might slip up and say something like, ‘When we ruled’. No. She had to keep up Damien’s act. But for how much longer?

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Journal was amazed by the lack of magic aura, as it wasn’t something he’d ever seen before. He kept pausing as they set up to watch the siblings. Aiden simply chuckled and put him back on track. When they were done, both sorcerers looked quite happy with their work. They looked to Amy when she spoke. 

Journal immediately piped up, bouncing a little in place. “Could we go see the sound room??? Or somewhere backstage???” he asked eagerly. “I’ve always wanted to see what’s going on backstage during a show!” 

Aiden nodded, glancing towards the shady space behind the stage. “Seems interesting, if not a little dark back there,” he pointed out. He could feel Journal deflate a little beside him. “But we’ve got light.” A small blue glow came off his hand. He smiled ruefully at Journal. “It’ll be like a mini quest, eh?”

Journal beamed at him, rubbing his hands together. “Yesssss…” He turned to Amy. “Can we go back there now???”

[faerglaz]

Amy giggled as the roommates introduced themselves. She looked over at Damien and smiled a beautiful smile as he said, “Oh, yeah, we basically have this place to ourselves... And Anonymous, ah, wherever he is.” Damien shrugged, a smile brightening his face once more. He pointed to a pile of equipment at the side of the stage. “We just need to set up those speakers there, and then I have to check out the rafters, for the lights... Uh... Oh, and I’ll find Anonymous when we’re close to finishing up. 

Amy listened to her brother talk, and wondered at his secrecy. They were far from her power, so why be afraid of a little honesty? She couldn’t argue with her big brother, though. He had to have a reason. She walked towards the pile of speakers and held up a wireless microphone. “Don’t forget to give this to... Anonymous, Damien.” She grinned, tossing it to Damien.

He held up his hands, and the mic stopped mid-air, floating into his outstretched hands. “Got it! So, Aiden, Journal, if you’ll help me drag this speaker over to that side of the stage, we should have a good start on things!”

Setting up the stage was simple, and it was a quick job. Every now and then, Amy or Damien would use their powers, which seemed to include a wide range of elemental tricks. Neither seemed inclined to explain the lack of magical aura, or seemed to think much of it at all. At some point, Damien disappeared behind stage, and Amy explained that he was going to find Anonymous. She stood at the edge of the stage with Journal and Aiden and said, “You wanted to explore, right? Where do you want to go first?”

@faerglaz @broken-locks

The two roommates chatted as they headed out with Damien. While the conversation was mostly a one sided shouting match, both of them looked at least a little excited about what was in store.  Aiden had to hang onto Journal’s cloak to keep him from running off as they entered the theater. The younger sorcerer was so eager he couldn’t even stand still. His shining green eyes roamed all over as they followed Damien deeper inside. Aiden was looking around, too, quiet appreciation on his face. Theaters were wonderful places.  Aiden listened to Damien, nodding along to his talk of jobs and pep talks. “I know how that goes,” he smiled ruefully. “I’ve given plenty of those. I wish him luck.”  Journal, who’d been half listening, gave a small gasp. “Wait, no!!!! You don’t wish a showman luck!” He looked to Damien apologetically. “He means break a leg.” 

At the appearance of Amy, however, Journal’s excited demeanor faltered. For some reason, she gave him an odd… chill. He shivered, and shrugged it off. It was nothing. Just nerves, he thought. He flashed her his own showman’s grin, giving her a short nod in greeting. “Journal Drapht. It’s a pleasure to meet you, miss.” Aiden just smiled warmly at her. The thought of travelling siblings brought back fond memories. “I’m Aiden Pingere, and I’ll have to agree with Journal,” he replied, placing his hand on his companion’s shoulder. “Your brother brought us along to help with setting up the show, and we’re up for whatever you’d have us do!”  Journal nodded, his smile still in place. “With the four of us, it probably won’t take too long. Maybe we could have a look around afterwords?” The second statement was as much of a request as it was a joke. Anyone looking at him could tell he was eager to see as much of the place as possible.  With an evening like this, nothing seemed able to damper the sorcerers’ moods. 

[faerglaz]

@broken-locks @a-familiar-set-of-apartments

((Do I tag? Do I not? As it would appear I am too old to know.))

Damien took a long drink from his coffee cup, his eyes shining. When Aiden patted his back, he felt relief flooding his mind. Part of him suddenly wanted to stay, to get to know Aiden, to have a father-figure. But that required two parties to agree, and his history was something that Damien did not feel like talking about. “Give me a second,” Damien murmured, holding up his index finger. He chugged the rest of the coffee, quickly rinsed out the cup, and set it beside the sink. “Okay, let’s go!” 

He strolled out the door, waiting for his two new friends to come along. He gleefully led them away from the apartment building, to a rather well-known theater. From what Damien had been told, the stage was large and the rafters above the stage provided the perfect opportunity that he wanted. Oh, and the speakers were set all throughout the auditorium, so even the people in the back would be able to hear. 

Damien pulled a key from his pocket, hoisting a backpack over to his other shoulder. He unlocked the door to the back room and stepped inside, glancing back at Aiden and Journal with a big, childish smile. “I’ve got some of my equipment already here, I had someone come pick it up. Really it’s just setting up the lights and making sure the speakers are plugged in. Oh, and making sure Anonymous gets here on time,” His laughter faded to a nervous chuckle as he continued to speak softly. “Anonymous works hard and all, but sometimes he gets too nervous to get out on stage. So you may not see me around during the show. I try to give him a pep talk each show, you know? He’s a good guy, though, I’m sure you’ll like him.” 

As Damien stepped onto the stage, he was greeted by a still form standing at the edge. “Oh, you’re here already!” The form turned around, looking Aiden and Journal up and down. Her lean body was muscular, but beautiful. Her opalescent hair shimmered around her shoulders, and her eyes seemed to glow as she stood in the lights. The colors within her irises were sporadic, almost like an abstract painting. Her smile, however, was genuinely warm and welcoming. “Hey! I’m Amy, Damien’s sister. Who are you?” Her clothing was dark, a black non-sleeve hoodie and black tights with mesh cutouts. Her shoes were simple sneakers, and they squeaked on the stage as she walked over to greet them. She grinned, much in the same way that Damien did. Their faces were similar, and the shape of their eyes was identical. 

@faerglaz @broken-locks

((y’all r both such moods lskdjfds))

Journal gasped softly, his eyes shining with excitement. Him? Help in a show? A real, actual show? Never mind that it was a light show, he’d never done so much as think of participating in something like this! He had to get in on it. The younger sorcerer looked up at Aiden, his gaze hungrily begging. “We don’t have anything else planned tonight, we’re open, right?” he inquired eagerly. “Could we go???”

Aiden laughed. “I don’t think I could keep you from that show if I tried. You look about ready to fight someone just to get there,” he pointed out jokingly. Picking up the tickets, he carefully tucked them into a pocket of his cloak. He gave Damien a pat on the back. “I don’t think i’ve ever helped with a show setup,” he told him, “it sounds like something we’d both be quite interested in. When do we head out?” He smirked at Journal. “Preferrably soon, I’d presume. Journal looks about ready to hop out a window.” 

“AidenwillyoushUSH-!” 

[faerglaz]

(I dunno if I’m starting at the right spot. Woe is me)

Damien smiled brightly. “It’s nothing to be ashamed of!” He said cheerily. “After all, my people can’t use an ounce of magic, so I find it fascinating.” He moved over to the coffee maker, perhaps a little too eagerly. Picking up the first cup he could, he glanced down into it.

Wow. “Uh, there’s a lot of dust in this mug,” Damien muttered, stepping over to the sink. “It’s fine.” He tipped the mug down the drain, and the tasteless, odorless powder vanished. After rinsing the cup out a few times, he moved back to the coffee maker, selecting an obviously cleaner mug to put coffee in. 

As the hot drink trickled into his cup, he looked back at Aiden and Journal, another smile brightening his face. “If you ever want a test audience, I’ve learned a lot about showmanship by working with Anonymous. I’m game for anything. Oh, the concerts! Yeah, they’re great. Anonymous is a really great showman, I think. He’s, uh, he’s a great actor, so that translates well to a performance. It’s like a light show- in fact!” 

Damien shoved his hand into his back pocket, pulling out a wad of tickets. He gently unfolded two, replaced the rest, grabbed his coffee, and moved towards Aiden. He handed the tickets to him, then said, “The first show is tonight, actually. I have to head out eventually to help set up. You could help, if you want!” His young face brightened at the thought of new friends helping. He grinned even wider and said, “You could even be a part of the show! Uh, I mean,” he caught himself, laughing at himself. “If you want to. You could just come to see a show or two. I could definitely get you in for free.” 

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Journal seemed to turn a little red at Damien’s question. How did he know about his fantasy magic shows?! He thought nobody but Aiden could tell what he was after with all his magic training. And he’d only known Damien for… what, all of five minutes? “I-i- well i mean- i don’t have one- um- of my own-” he stammered, trying to get a sentence out.  Aiden smiled a little, giving journal a pat on the shoulder. “What he means to say is that he’s planning on being a show sorcerer, but doesn’t have any magic shows of his own,” he explained. “At least… none he’s practiced.” He winked at Journal. The younger sorcerer shot him a look. Aiden turned back to Damien. “I saw that look at the coffee maker, by the way.” He nodded towards the thing. “Go ahead and make yourself a cup. I’d like to hear a little about those concerts you mentioned, and I’m sure Journal would too.” “Wellmaybejustalittle…” Journal mumbled.  Neither of the sorcerers had noticed the strange moving shadow. 

[faerglaz]

I shall save you!

*screams and runs*

I am the vaguely threatening positivity fairy Fear me.

@flynntkotzaff its back save meeeeee

*climbs on top of Flynn* its gonna attack me with more positivity Flynn I’m scared

[faerglaz]

Damien offered his thanks as he stepped into the room. It was so, so nice. He liked it a lot. “I’m Damien,” he replied, a smile brightening his face. His charming smile offered a more relaxed appearance, and he slipped into a more comfortable act.

He recognized Journal’s expression, and the momentary lapse of indifference. He smiled a little wider at the question, suddenly unsure how to answer. Ah, scrap it. “Actually, I’m here to help with a show. Or, I mean, a set of shows. They’re concerts, and there’s not a lot of magic, mostly because we can’t find anyone permanently to help out. But yeah! Music is my thing, and I help Anonymous with his shows. Do you, ah, have a magic show? I’d love to see one.” 

He wrung his hands a little bit, then shifted his weight. He glanced around, noticing the coffee maker. Ooh, coffee... He quickly turned his gaze back to Aiden and Journal, eyes shimmering with excitement. 

@faerglaz @broken-locks

Aiden and Journal looked up at the knocking. The former’s face broke into a grin, while the latter sighed, resigned. “Oh, no, you’re not interrupting at all,” Aiden chuckled, “we left the door open for a reason. Come on in.” It wasn’t often they got visitors nowadays. The stranger seemed eager for company, too. He could tell that much. “I’m Aiden. This is my roommate, Journal.”  Journal waved halfheartedly, shutting his spellbook. As long as the visitor was there, they probably wouldn’t have time for magic. But Aiden said they’d have to be hospitable. So… he’d try not to seem annoyed. He flashed Damien a quick smile.  “What brings you here to this town, hm?” Journal asked, raising an eyebrow. “You here for the magic shows? They’re fantastic, you won’t be disappointed!” The younger sorcerer’s eyes seemed to sparkle with enthusiasm. 

[faerglaz]

Damien twisted his wrist, spirals of light splintering the dark. He sat up rigidly when he heard his new neighbors walk past, their laughter oddly jarring. Being alone was taking a bit more of a toll on him than he anticipated. He stood up, walking towards the hallway with an odd anxiety playing in his chest. 

He recalled a warning, something about showing his face, playing the renegade... he’d end up alone. At this point, he didn’t care. His hands trembled as he gently rapped at his neighbor’s door. He eased into the doorway, his eyes sparkling.

It looks so cozy. There was a pair of chairs, and it was warm with light. Two guys were talking to each other, and Damien felt the slightest tinge at interrupting them. “Uh, hey! I’m Damien, and I live next door for now... I was wondering if I could hang out for a bit, my normal traveling buddy is at home with his wife.” How bad could this get? He smiled naturally, however, the instinctive, actor side of him coming into play. “If y’all are busy, don’t mind me. I’m not from around here, so if I’m intruding just let me know.” His cool tone and relaxed smile betrayed the internal screaming of his mind.

Unfamiliar world!

@a-familiar-set-of-apartments @faerglaz

Wraith watched as the sun set. Soon, he would finish his contract and get out of this tiny place, leaving a mystery behind for the villagers to figure out alone. Yes, it would be a mystery for some time. How to finish his end of the contract, though? Poison? Good, classic cloak and dagger? Maybe something new, like magic? No, that wasn’t new… That was hardly new.

Although, this town’s definition of magic was definitely not the same as his… His was hardly explainable. I was like a river that gave life to a forest- it was necessary. It was part of his lifeblood as a half-drow. Every sensible creature from his home knew some way, shape, or form of magic.

Enough! He was getting distracted. Cursed creature! It never did him any good, excepting when he was in a rough situation… He shrugged it off, moving closer to the place he was informed his target was lodging.

There was one horrid problem, however. Apparently, his target was living with a smaller, more active nuisance. That could prove to be a problem. He frowned, unsheathing one of his many daggers to check its blade. He had sharpened them roughly a week ago, and knowing how much he used them, they could have already dulled.

He was thankful to find them still sharp, as he’d stabbed few people and had been focused more on traveling than anything else. It was a long way he had to come to get here, and he was rather amused to find he was even slightly notorious in these far parts of the world. How curious.

His eyes focused once again on the apartment building, planning out his way of getting in, out, and about without getting quite caught. Knives were going to be his secondary choice- he needed only to poison his target’s drink and get out. It made things less trivial, that way.