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finished toadbert's halloween costume
little wizard
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Tag your favourite flower, fruit, colour, scent, season and tea!
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i do love the fact that death note fanarts are either L and Light engaging in some stupidly funny mind game or Misa serving cunt
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Happy pride month â€ïžđłïžâđđłïžââ§ïž
Not a typical pride month illustration, just me wanted to represent my community in my own way đ„°â€ïž
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do you still have the edit you did of the rollin video where fred durst says nonbinary people
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Past Lives (4) â Meet Me in St. Louis
by J. D. Dennis
Time Period:Â Early 2027
Perspective: Vyx & Flidais, April & Vince, Al & Donnie
Rating: PG-13
Content Warnings:Â Drama, hard conversations, lots of talk about death, characters are in situations, thereâs lots of therapy, also cheese puns
Word Count: 22,816
Comments: Stop 3 â St. Louis! The Prince & her council were actually made for a different campaign, No Vacancy, and Jason was part of a campaign that died before it got anywhere (also the DM is a bitch, so thereâs no respect for it anyway lol). Thatâs the beauty of Vampire, though â everyone is reusable with the right perspective! But this chapter does in fact feature Al getting smacked by therapy, a conversation between Vyx and Flidais that I only realized was a long time coming as I got here, and Vince finally gets caught up on life.
They werenât sure who actually noticed it first.
Theyâd made decent time getting out of the mountains, once theyâd gotten the belt back on the bus; it hadnât taken very long to get everything back together, and as soon as the engine turned over, they were gone again, ripping across empty, snowy highways at speeds the bus was not entirely suited for. Maine had led back down into New York state, and theyâd turned West from there, pushing through Massachusetts and West Virginia into Ohio and beyond. Â Once theyâd crossed the Appalachian Mountains, the highway had opened up into flat land and empty abyss, with nothing on either side for miles and miles. They could see building storms in cities they wouldnât reach for hours yet, tiny farms spotting the otherwise empty landscape.
Vyx remembered traveling those roads on a bike, years previously, the ability to just open up the throttle and go for it something they itched for as they witnessed the endless expanse in front of them. The bus wasnât exactly fast, other cars passing them without issue, meaning the landscapes changed slowly; they could see for miles in every direction, interrupted only by the occasional bank of trees, empty farmhouse, or distant city skyline, and their visual of the world without the speed to see it all was boring, and that only made them want to cross the distance as quickly as possible. It was something in between a sense of nervous fear that being in the open left them defenseless, and the itch to just run that they hadnât been able to satisfy for a long time. Sometimes, it just felt good to let everything go, to let the world speed past them without having to fret, without having to really pay attention to the emptiness beyond them.
That nervous fear, however, was apparently not unfounded, and it settled in harder as they moved through the flatlands towards their next destination. The bus, days later, trundled up a long bridge, crossing the Mississippi River - which served as the state border between Missouri and Illinois - passing the St. Louis Arch in the distance, a grand vision signaling their arrival, and something in Vyxâs stomach dropped as they did. They briefly looked to the others, and found that, of the faces they could see, none of them seemed delighted; this was strange, considering theyâd finally reached their destination and Vyx knew nobody wanted to be stuck in the bus any more than they had been already. It meant that, whatever the hell theyâd noticed, the others had noticed as well; was it the traffic? Had they seen someone they knew? Or was there an aura in the air they could all simply feel? They werenât sure exactly what it was, or who picked up on it first, but clearly, the whole bus could feel the sinking suspicion in Vyxâs stomach that things werenât going to go well - and then a black SUV slid into the lane next to them, quietly and without preamble, and their hackles went up at the sight. Was a black SUV necessarily dangerous? No, but there was something going wrong, they knew it, and they werenât going to be caught off guard by it.
âUh, I think we have an issue.â Will said, from the driverâs seat, and that had the party all but springing to the front, peering out the side and front windows like if they could just cut the top off the bus, they could see well enough to determine the problem. It wasnât hard to figure out the issue, luckily â as they reached the bottom of the bridge, and the stoplight there, a second SUV slid into the lane to the right of the bus, and Vyx could tell the two cars were trying to keep pace on purpose. This wasnât coincidence, this was herding. âThe GPS says we need to go right, but theyâre not letting me turn.â
âTheyâre Kindred.â Flidais supplied, her eyes flickering to something almost entirely white for a second while she checked the cars with Auspex. It was a good thing to have, and sometimes, Vyx wished theyâd done more to learn it â the rest of the time they were grateful theyâd found people to keep around that knew it better than they did. Mollyâs appreciation of her ghoul, Claire, whoâs strength was specifically in Auspex, was something Vyx suddenly understood. âVyx, what happened last time you were out here?â Flidais asked, turning her eyes quickly to her partner, knowing that this wasnât action but a reaction to something Vyx had done. Â
âI really donât wanna talk about it.â Vyx said with a grimace, trying to calculate a solution and finding most of the options predictably bad. They hadnât exactly made friends in St. Louis â though, to say theyâd made enemies was presumptuous as well. Theyâd simply left a bunch of people pretty unhappy with how theyâd acted and hadnât ever apologized. For most people, that would have meant not visiting when they were in town, or a brusque conversation if they did meet, but apparently for Kindred, even just being unfriendly was a slight â either that, or there was more to Vyxâs story. âUh, short form, I made a bit of a mess a little further West, and when I fled this way, I wasnât exactly a peach to the local fiefdom.â They pursed their lips, watching the other side of the light turn yellow, knowing theirs would turn green and knowing Will had few options in a bus. Fighting them in the bus wasnât it, as most of the windows didnât open, and they couldnât race them, either. âJust⊠follow them, for now. Theyâre probably going to get us to stop somewhere â we can figure something out then, when we know what they want. Maybe kill them, if we think we have to.â
âIf itâs just that they wanna talk to you, Iâm okay with letting them.â Vince said, one of the few in the back who hadnât gotten up to gawk at the SUVs trapping them. Apparently, he wasnât particularly worried â though, admittedly, the man had been blood bound to one of the most powerful Kindred left alive, and had been there to witness her equal getting shot in the face with a rocket; very little frightened him, at this point. It didnât help that heâd already died, so it wasnât like they could do anything worse to him. The light turned green, and Will allowed himself to be guided by the cars, going straight back onto the highway and traveling for a moment, the SUVs carefully keeping pace. âIt might be they want to make sure youâre not causing more issues, which like. I wouldnât fault Kana for doing that, so I canât fault anyone else, either.â
âIf they are going to kill us, however,â Al added, skeptical. âWe should be ready, just in case. I donât know how much trouble you got into out West, but I know you. The fact that you wonât talk about it means itâs bad. Not saying I want to know, exactly, but if itâs that bad, we have to be ready for them to try and kill us on sight.â
âIf they were going to do that, theyâd have fired on the bus.â Vince replied, lighting his cigarette languidly. He inhaled, letting the smoke collect around the lights and making the whole room a little foggy. âI might be able to make a car vanish, but I doubt that I can make this bus vanish, so itâs not like we have great egress. Not to mention, they know this city better than we do and this bus turns like a boat, so itâs not like we could lose them if we wanted to. Weâre sitting ducks, and I donât know about yâall, but I wouldnât skip the opportunity to take out a Kindred in our position if that was my intent from the start.â He paused. âThough, I mean, I probably could make the bus vanish; technically Iâve made a whole building not be there anymore, but I havenât tried it before and duress isnât a good time for learning, yâknow? So itâs better to assume I canât.â He shrugged. âPoint being, they have no expectation that weâd actually follow, and we have no real method for avoiding them otherwise, so if they wanted to kill us, they probably would have tried by now. The fact that they havenât says thereâs a different plan, here.â
âIâm with Vince.â April said, softly, making all heads turn to her. âI donât think theyâre trying to kill us. Kindred arenât really⊠subtle about that kind of thing. Thereâs something else they want, and we should at least find out what. Then we can decide if fighting them is actually worth the trouble.â She shrugged. Vyx sighed.
âYeah, alright, itâs not like I want to kill them. That would cause so much more trouble, anyway. Will, follow their lead and weâll see what they want before we decide if weâre going to try and kill them first. But, if we get the vibe theyâre here to kill, we are shooting first.â They shook their head, watching as the SUVs carefully guided the bus to an exit, pressing it off onto a lonely side street. St. Louis wasnât a particularly large city, as far as down-town was concerned, but it sprawled outward from there, strips of businesses and re-zoned residential areas hidden behind billboards and advertisements and signs for all sorts of things. It felt industrial, which made sense, considering it was a port town before it became the city it was. The bus was guided off the highway, turning down a dark road with struggling businesses on all sides, before being turned further down a dark road that ended in a gravel lot, where it pulled up sideways to park across multiple spaces. The SUVs pressed the bus into the lot, pulling up at the entrance and closing it off, parking in such a formation that the bus wouldnât have been able to exit again, leaving them without a way out.
âHere goes nothinâ.â Vyx said, rolling their shoulders and stepping off the bus. They didnât have their rifle, but there wasnât a need â they were too close for it to be useful, for one, and they had enough power in their ability to tear people limb from limb that it honestly didnât matter if they had it. It wasnât like anyone would expect a Malkavian to bend blood and bone, after all, and the split second that occurred when expectations didnât match reality was long enough for someone to lose a hand. They crossed their arms, watching a young woman step from the front of one SUV â she was dark haired, with almond eyes and pale-golden skin and a pursed set of lips that said she wasnât exactly vibing with the whole meeting, either, but she was here anyway â followed by another young woman, who hopped from the other SUVâs passenger seat. The other woman had bubblegum pink hair and a sports jersey on over shorts so short they almost werenât visible, and she carried a bat over her shoulder like she wasnât just planning on hitting a few baseballs across a field, but a few skulls, too. âSo.â Vyx said, opening their arms to the pair. âI figure you wanna talk? Phone-calls are definitely my preference, but we can do this here, if youâre really itching for it.â
âWe donât want to talk.â The pink haired woman shrugged, and Vyx could tell there were others, cronies probably, lingering in the car and just behind it, ready for a fight. Something about their setup said they were more scared of Vyx than Vyx was of them, or at least they were more concerned about the otherâs unpredictable actions, at any rate. That this whole charade was because they thought Vyx was the biggest threat there â which was flattering, if a little misplaced. âThe Prince, however, does, so youâre coming with us. Letâs not make this hard, okay?â
âYouâre the one herding us to a back lot in the middle of fucking nowhere â which, if this was the easy option, I donât want to know the hard one. You could have just tapped on the window and asked us to meet the Prince and we would have obliged.â Vyx grumbled, a little affronted by the request being given as it was. Were they planning on seeing the Prince before they left town? Probably not, though they were definitely supposed to. They werenât planning on being in town long enough for it to really matter, honestly, and it felt a little overkill that theyâd been herded out of downtown just to be told they had to meet the Prince. All they wanted to do was grab their box and go, but they could play a little politics â they just wished theyâd been asked nicely. âLemme guess â Sheriff, and then Scourge?â They asked, pointing first to the dark haired woman, and then to the pink haired one. The one in the jersey laughed.
âOther way around. Iâm the Sheriff, here â call me Ginny. Thatâs Val, sheâs the Scourge.â Ginny gestured to the other woman, who bared her teeth as though to prove that point. They were sharp, but not Gangrel sharp, and Vyx could tell, somewhere in their brain, that Val wasnât any of the punchier clans. She seemed to glitter in the pale moonlight, but it was hard to tell the exact cause. The blood-visions came on slowly, sometimes; something about their separation from their sire, or Cain, meant that the blood wasnât entirely consistent in how quickly the twisted visions arrived, or how much they covered. Some people, like Donnie, they saw immediately â but Donnie never hid who he was, where the Sheriff seemed to like being underestimated and misinterpreted. However, after only a few minutes, Vyx could at least tell that, while Ginny seemed to embody a version of Ray, the NYC bruiser they knew best, Val seemed to be entranced with the concept of combat and blood. Toreador, maybe, while the Sheriff was definitely a Brujah. The rest would probably come to them later, when they werenât focused on not dying, and when theyâd gotten the others to open up a bit. âRegardless, we canât wait all night, so. Letâs get moving, shall we?â The Sheriff added, when Vyx hadnât agreed to jump in the car immediately.
âCan I ask why?â Vyx asked, looking at Ginny with a curious expression. âLike, we were gonna visit, but we hadnât even gotten into town yet. Hard to comply to the rules when we havenât been given a chance, yâknow? What have we done to make you so jumpy? I mean, besides being moving targets for the cityâs well-trained sight-hounds.â Vyx said, referencing the shift of their vision, the way it seemed both girls were suddenly just greyhounds, chasing because theyâd seen movement and not because they really desired the catch. Ginny made a confused face, like she hadnât expected the Malkism, but that was the crux of having not existed before â sometimes, it took a minute for the visuals to catch up. Â
âWell, we have to make sure youâre not a threat to the city, considering your forays out West. Thatâs why.â Ginny snapped a bubble of bright pink gum, which sheâd been chewing aggressively, the pink sticking to her now wet nose, and the crack almost made Vyx jump, because it felt like a threat. That if they didnât comply, the baseball bat bully would snap them just like she snapped the gum, that they wouldnât just hear the crack of her gum if they didnât do as they were told. It didnât help that the Malkism from before had Ginny a little on edge, her teeth bared in a canine growl. âLast time you blew through here, you left destruction in your wake after making a huge mess out in Kansas. We almost lost one of ours, and thatâs not even getting into what happened in Wichita. We canât have that again, so the Prince wants a chat to make sure everythingâs clear and you understand where we all stand. So, unless you want to protest, hereâs whatâs going to happen â youâre going to get everyone off the bus, and weâre going to take you in. Separately. Two with me, two with Val, two in the bus.â
âWhy go to the effort? The bus holds everyone just fine.â Al asked, stepping out onto the stairs before hopping down to the ground. They could hear the conversation from inside the bus, and that meant that theyâd filed for the door at the words â it wasnât like they wouldnât comply, honestly, they just wanted to know why - with Al in front, trying to back up the one person left who actually sort of wanted to date him. It wasnât worth trying to hide, considering they werenât exactly thinking of fighting, yet, and it wasnât like surprise was really on their side regardless. Val growled, baring sharp teeth at him like the question was stupid, and Vyx saw her teeth were perfectly symmetrical.
âThe Prince knows who you all are. You donât exactly get to save the world, as the rumors say, without getting noticed.â Valâs voice was a snarl, clearly the least pleased about the tack of the conversation; it was a strange sound to hear coming out of a young woman that otherwise looked so demure. She honestly looked like sheâd have preferred to just kill them right then and there, and it was uncanny. âAnd she knows better than to let you all have time to plan all-together. Youâre less of a problem when youâre separated. So you, smart-ass, and the bruiser behind you are coming in my car.â She pointed to Donnie, and then Al, gesturing them over.
âThe sad looking one and your blue-haired hacker friend are coming with me.â Ginny gestured to Vince, and then to April, who looked startled that she was recognized as a hacker. Al made sense â heâd been running the NosNet after Pipâs demise, and that meant Ladykiller1337 had made a name for himself on the web. April, however, had kept herself clear, as far as she thought. She hadnât even used her old screen-name since the war. âYeah, we know what you do, Sxull. Weâve been watching the coast since 2018 â if that broke bad, we would have been next on the list, so we paid attention, and then you all did what sounded like a bunch of impossible bullshit and we kept paying attention. Youâre not exactly the next big thing, but youâre more well-known than you think you are. Which is why weâre not letting you or your hacker friend ride together.â Ginny shrugged, at least not so mad about it as to be mean like the other woman; to her, this was practical, not personal. âThat means you and your redheaded girlfriend can stay in the bus with the driver.â Ginny gestured to Vyx and Flidais, and Vyx looked back, only just catching a weird look on Flidaisâs face at the words. Something about it stuck fast, like a dart in their chest. âSince youâre who the Prince wants to talk to, we figured leaving you in the most noticeable vehicle was probably the right move, not to mention keeping your friends at armâs reach.â
âAnd donât think about running off, or vanishing the thing, either.â Val added, like she had to cover the bases all the same. Clearly, they knew someone was a Malkavian, considering they knew someone could have vanished the bus. âOr weâll kill one of your friends, and since theyâre going to be separate, you wonât even know which one. Hope you donât have favorites.â She grinned, something wild and feral, like she dared Vyx to try something, her canine features twisting slightly. Vyx sighed, looking to the others to see where they stood. Al looked a little miffed, but not particularly worried, as this wasnât exactly abnormal for Kindred; Donnie looked worried, but only the normal amount, which didnât signal much. He was worried about a lot of the things Vyx did, one way or another, and this was no exception â not to mention, his job was to be their bodyguard, and it would be hard to bodyguard them from a different car. Vince seemed calm, though he hardly was anything but, after dying; apparently, having been to the other side, he simply didnât care if he went again. April looked the most nervous, likely due to their knowledge of her screen name throwing her off. Flidais, however, was strangely steeled, her earlier face all but gone like sheâd never had it, her eyes boring holes into Valâs head like a threat that needed to be understood.
âAlright, alright. Can I ask where weâre headed, so we all just know? Like, I know Willâs a good driver and youâre used to the city, but I also know Kine drive like dicks, so if we get cut off or turned around I wanna make sure weâre all heading to the same place and you donât get too much of an itchy paw thinking we bailed.â Vyx asked, and after processing that paw did not reference being a southpaw, Ginny briefly looked to Val, like they needed to confirm this was a legit question. She got a shrug, so she shrugged in response; if Val didnât think it was a problem, it probably wasnât.
âUnion Station.â She replied, the information not necessary to keep hidden. The Princeâs office was generally public knowledge. âWeâll meet you outside. Try and keep up â if youâre too far behind us, we might have to take drastic measures.â She gave Vyx a wink â something that said they werenât planning on being mean until they absolutely had to, so as long as Vyx wasnât trying anything shifty, theyâd be fine, but she needed to impress the threat on them anyway â before turning to the car, only looking back briefly to assess whether her intended cargo was actually getting in with her. Vyx watched their friends reluctantly load into the SUVs, Donnieâs final look one of concern, hovering slightly at the bus door like they werenât entirely sure they liked where things were going â but then all the doors closed, and they didnât have a choice anymore.
Flidais was already on the bus when they returned to it, and Will didnât hesitate before getting back on the road, trying to follow the SUVs as best he could. Vyx settled into the booth on the bus, putting their arms on the table and their head in their hands, sighing deeply at all the shit they were in. It wasnât really worth fussing over â theyâd get to the Prince, and theyâd talk, and theyâd somehow get the hell back out of it again and they would be fine. That was how it always went down, anyway, and they had to trust in that â besides, there were other things bothering Vyx more. Notably, the face Flidais had made had stuck fast in Vyxâs guts like a meal they couldnât turn into blood, churning in the pit of a stomach they hadnât used properly, ever. They looked up at Flidais, who didnât look at them, staring out the window instead as they rolled slowly past buildings and business and other cars. Traffic was gridlock, for a moment, and things were going slowly, so they had time. Vyx inhaled, and exhaled, preparing themselves for a question they knew they had to ask and didnât honestly want to.
âHey, Flid?â They asked, softly, and that drew the other womanâs attention to them and for a moment they hesitated. Something about having Flidaisâs full attention felt like getting a full stare down from a Federal Agent â there was something about the way she looked at them that said getting her full attention wasnât something people did when they wanted to walk away from whatever the hell was going on. But Vyx had to press, anyway, or theyâd explode, and considering exploding had been part of the original problem, they didnât want to make it worse. âWhat was that face? When Ginny said you and I were staying on the bus. You made a face. You donât normally make faces. Whatâs up?â They asked, looking at Flidais with something that was not unlike pleading; they didnât care if it was bad or not, now that theyâd noticed they needed to know. Flidaisâs face turned, slightly, towards something pained and something sour and something like theyâd asked what the explosives in her hand were and she honestly hadnât wanted to mention having any in the first place. She, also, sighed, and the bus trundled forward in traffic.
âI didnât want to do this right now, exactly.â She said, softly, monotone, the lack of effect to her voice disconcerting for once in Vyxâs life. âBut⊠Iâve been thinking, and⊠I want to break up.â She let the words settle, the pauses in her words not from nerves or distress but helping think of the right things to say, and she looked at Vyx like sheâd expected to have killed the other. Like she expected this to do more external damage than internal. Vyx didnât balk, just furrowed their brows, like they werenât sure why this was the big deal Flidais was making it out to be. They werenât particularly strict about things, after all. âWhen you asked me out, Vince was still gone.â Flidais started again, like she needed to justify her words. âNow that heâs back⊠It wouldnât be fair to you to keep this alive when heâs the only person I really want. Itâs just taken me a while to realize it.â
âYeah, I get that.â Vyx shrugged, and that actually had surprise crossing Flidaisâs face. Sheâd expected the other to be more⊠not necessarily angry, but something more than perfectly okay with things. âNo need to act like you stabbed me, though. If you donât wanna do this anymore, sure. Iâm okay with that. Like, weâll need to go over the details of what that means, but Iâm not going to try and tell you that you canât. Whatâs important is that youâre happy, however the hell that pans, and that means accepting this, too.â
âI was worried you wouldnât want to be friends, after this.â Flidais said, and besides the concept that her, worrying, was funny, it wasnât really a funny statement and Vyx managed to control their snort of laughter at the idea. Flidais frowned, briefly concerned Vyx wasnât taking things seriously, but the bus took a fairly sharp turn fairly slowly, and that unseated her enough to dismiss the frown. âI didnât think youâd want to keep me around, considering I was alright dating you until Vince returned. I know what itâs like to feel less important, especially suddenly. Plenty of people came to see Konrad when I was in charge, and werenât happy he wasnât around. If Iâd been asked if any of them were my friends, I wouldnât have considered yes an option.â She sighed. âI still want to be your friend, Vyx. I just donât want to lead you on.â
âFlid.â Vyx let the chuckle out that theyâd held in earlier, the whole stress feeling almost silly â though they understood. They were the only one in their own head, after all, and they could tell Flidais hadnât predicted the easy mood from the conversation, which meant she couldnât have known Vyxâs actual feelings. They sighed, leaning a little as the bus took another turn that threatened to push the whole thing over. Driving a top heavy vehicle in a tightly packed city wasnât easy. âI know this was probably really hard, and I just wanna say, Iâm like⊠proud? I guess? That you did it? That feels weird, though. Like Iâm your parent.â They shook their head. âBut this wasnât ever going to be a problem. Like, Iâm poly. I canât really be a dick about things, yâknow?â
âNot being friendly isnât the same as being a dick.â Flidais said, softly, like her concern wasnât exactly abated by Vyxâs words. âYou could have still been Vinceâs friend and simply not wanted tâsee me, and that would be fair.â
âNo, it wouldnât be, âcause that would be like pretending what we had before, or what we are now, isnât something special.â Vyx said, softly, and that had Flidaisâs full attention again. They leaned forward on the table, putting their elbows down and resting their head in their hand again. âThink of it like this: the whole getting close to someone thing is like a spectrum. On one end, you got hatred, and then neutral, and then you start getting into being friends.â They lifted their head, gesturing on the table as though to indicate the spectrum they were discussing. âPast friends, things get really blurry, âcause after friends you get relationship but thatâs not really well defined, yâknow? Like, I have a relationship with Vince, âcause heâs my brother. I love him, as a brother, but weâre definitely not at friends anymore, but weâre also definitely not dating.â They gestured to a part of the spectrum towards the middle when they said friends. âThe thing to pay attention to is thereâs like, thresholds. Thereâs the one where you know a person so intimately well you canât ever unknow them, and thereâs the one thatâs like, physical intimacy. Most people think once youâve hit the physical intimacy one, youâre dating, but thatâs also not a thing, âcause thereâs a bunch of different boundaries to navigate, and sometimes friends are more intimate and partners are less.â
âVyx, you know how little experience I have with this kind of thing.â Flidais said, trying to follow and finding it hard. Vyx knew what she meant, of course â sheâd been a young man during the first World War, and then sheâd been Konradâs little project; he wasnât exactly a good role model for how to interact with normal people, and then sheâd had Vince and the world had collapsed so nothing else mattered. They paused, regrouping to try and figure out an easier way to talk about things.
âThe point is, before that knowledge threshold, friends are like⊠people you get beer with after work. Occasional bowling buddies. Not the guy you call when you get into a big accident, or you need a cat sitter for a week, or you need a ride to the ER, right? Not the people you rely on in an emergency, or the people who need you, too. Like, those are friends, but differently.â Vyx paused, trying to make sure Flidais was following, and that, at least, seemed to make sense. âAfter you cross the knowledge one, and you know things about that person, that friendship gets more intimate, right? âCause you know things about them. You know who their parents are and you know their favorite food or where they like to buy their clothes. You know what scares them at night and what makes them happy and who they turn to when theyâre lost.â They paused, again, watching Flidaisâs face until they were sure she was following. âIn that space, the difference between being friends and dating is just about where youâve set the boundary of physical intimacy, yâknow? âCause friends hug, and talk for long hours, or whatever. Some friends are more comfortable with more, but thatâs also starting to get into being in like, a Queer Platonic thing, which is why this is so hard to define, yâknow?â
âA what?â Flidais asked, furrowing her brow.
âQueer Platonic relationship. Where youâre like, really close and probably could be dating but youâve set the boundaries of physical intimacy to stuff thatâs still reasonable for friends.â Vyx waved a hand, like that wasnât the point. âThe point is, you and I are past that threshold for knowledge. I know you. Way too well. And I canât walk that back. You can set the boundaries for us wherever you want, so we donât have to date. We can walk it back to hugs and nothing else, or we can walk it back to no physical intimacy at all, and thatâs fine. But weâre past the point of being beer buddies, and that means that it would take quite a lot for you to do something that would actually ruin this friendship.â Vyx chuckled, watching Flidaisâs face soften, but she pursed her lips again anyway, confused.
âKonrad said most people donât stay friends with their significant others after breaking up.â She said, softly, and Vyx rolled their eyes. Of course Konrad was involved â he had been in Flidaisâs head for long enough, after all. âI think he was trying to convince me Vince didnât want me as a friend, either, but I canât shake what he said.â
âOne, youâre taking advice from a dude who thinks throwing a wake for a man he killed is enough of an apology. Especially when the dinner table was made from our friends.â Vyx sighed, shaking their head, and Flidais cut her eyes away as though to acknowledge that Vyx was right without having to say it. Unfortunately, they were, and Konrad had, in fact, thrown them a wake for a man he killed and had them sitting on other friends of theirs, who heâd made into chairs. He wasnât exactly the man to go to for relationship advice. âTwo, youâre taking advice from this dude about me. If you think Iâm most people, we have a bigger problem.â They chuckled. âBut three, a lot of people who arenât werenât actually friends with their partners. A lot of people, queer, straight, or otherwise, go straight from acquaintances into full on dating without crossing that knowledge threshold, or any threshold, first. So theyâre making out with a bowling friend, and when they learn their bowling friend is more complicated than what can be conveyed over a beer in between sets, they bail, and they arenât friends when they do, âcause they never were friends like that. The people who actually stick together are the people who were friends before they dated, or become very good friends while they date. So maybe take what Konrad says with a grain of salt. Heâs not running with a good sample size.â
âSo, weâre⊠okay?â Flidais asked, turning back to the topic at hand, and Vyx shrugged.
âI mean, as long as youâre willing to acknowledge that weâre not going to be beer buddies after this, yeah.â Vyx shrugged again, watching Flidaisâs face to make sure she understood. âYou and I had something neat, but it didnât work out. That happens. But since I canât walk back knowing you, all weâre really doing is readjusting where the boundaries are to something youâre more comfortable with. As long as you can acknowledge thatâs whatâs happening, weâll be fine.â They paused. ââCause if you try and make us beer friends again, then itâll fall apart. Thatâs what happens with other people. They try and unknow a person they know too well â maybe they didnât like what they learned or maybe it wasnât meant to be and they know more than they want to - or they try and diminish what they had before, and itâs easier to keep taking steps back once youâve started pulling away than it is to admit you maybe pulled back too hard.â They paused again, getting up as the bus took a corner, swaying with the motion and heading for the small kitchen they had in the front room. Tucked away in a back drawer was a pack of American Spirits â Donnie had tried to hide them so Vyx didnât smoke them all before he came back. It wasnât entirely effective, but he tried. They pulled it out, sliding one out of the pack before replacing it again, so he didnât know theyâd found it. âThe people who think you canât be friends after dating think being friends is only a stepping stone on the path to romance, not that you should also be friends with your intimate partners.â
âIâm glad weâre okay.â Flidais said, giving Vyx the closest approximation to a smile she could manage. âI just⊠I donât know what I feel for you, Vyx. I think youâre right that itâs more than I feel for other people, like Molly. But it just⊠youâre cute, and youâre kind, sometimes, and youâre funny. But I look at you and then I look at Vince and itâs like⊠itâs like thinking a single bulb bathroom is bright and then turning to look at the sun.â
âHey, you donât gotta explain it to me, Iâve noticed.â Vyx laughed, lighting the cigarette. âYou look at Vince and itâs like the whole world just falls away. Sure, I was hoping I could share a smidge of that attention, but Iâll settle for keeping you around as a friend, anyway. I canât promise I wonât lay on you, but if you decide you wanna keep shifting the boundaries around, just tell me and Iâll oblige. I might be a bit of a brat, but Iâm not a bastard.â They shrugged. âThe important thing is that weâre on the same side, no matter what. âCause it would really suck if you were like, yeah, letâs break up, and also Iâm not going to put one in that Toreador when she snaps.â
âSheâll learn that she needs to keep her hands to herself.â Flidais said, and that was a threat, one that brought a smile to Vyxâs face. Was it weird? Absolutely, just a little. Change always was. Especially change that sort of came out of nowhere, though it had likely been on the other womanâs mind for a while even if Vyx had only just noticed. But they were still friends, and they were still close, and thatâs what honestly mattered.
âYeah, or theyâre going to learn that Iâve kind of redefined what it means to be ride or die.â Vyx chuckled, looking out of the front window as the bus pulled up to the station. One SUV was already parked and clearly empty, having taken a shortcut they hadnât seen. The other, however, wasnât present, and Vyx sighed. âWell, weâve lost a car.â
âI wonder whoâs it was?â
~*~
âHey, so.â Al started, from the back seat; he was talking to Val, the angry Toreador sitting in front of Donnie with a scowl on her face that would have made Konrad look happy, in a tone that said this wouldnât help much. âDo you eat?â
Theyâd been in the car all of five minutes, but that was all it really took for Al to determine that maybe it was better if they stopped. The thing was, theyâd been shuffled into the car without so much as a word, so there wasnât any chance of any kind of Plan A, let alone B or C, and that made Al a little uncomfortable. Heâd been a spy, before, so he was pretty used to figuring out his bullshit on the fly, and he knew he could get himself out of the scrape if it was needed; Donnie, however, hadnât been, and his leg was bouncing like he was three hours late for a smoke break and he looked ready to launch himself out of the window the first time the car slowed down. They needed a plan, something concrete, just to keep the man calm â it probably didnât help that Vyx was in a different car, specifically the bus, and not in there with them. Al was pretty sure that was actually a punishment for other people; Vince had been relatively capable of taking care of himself, once heâd learned how to fire a gun, and Vyx was the same man except with twice the confidence and maybe a little less self-preservation. Al was sure theyâd be fine, but he could tell Donnie hadnât ever had that experience, and until theyâd given him the chance to see they werenât going to explode without him, the other Kindred clearly thought his presence was necessary to keep them safe. It was only a matter of time before someone got decked, and Al was in fist-range.
âYes, Why?â Val snarled, turning her head only slightly to catch Alâs expression. Having been KGB, she didnât really frighten him much, and he just put on a kind of sleezy, sheepish grin, the kind of thing one would find on a snake oil salesman who was about to drop the recipe to keep his knees intact. Donnie snapped his head over to Al, like he really wanted to know the reason the other man wanted to make them go slower, something wild about his eyes, just a little. Stressed wasnât cutting it.
âWell, one, I know I still eat, being a ghoul and all, and Iâm fucking starving and I dunno about you, but letting me get way too faint before we get back isnât really the best option, if you get what Iâm putting down here.â Al quickly spun the lie, watching Valâs face carefully. They said theyâd been paying attention, but how much attention was really the question. Did they know heâd been sired, a few years before then? âImagine, me, stepping out of this car and just collapsing âcause Iâm so faint, right in front of my current girlfriend? The one you really wanna talk to? Not a great look, honestly.â Al offered up the excuse, and while Val watched him with something like skepticism, she didnât question his lie. It almost looked like sheâd read his aura â sometimes Kindred eyes flickered or flashed when they used Auspex and hers seemed to flicker, just once â but Al had made sure his aura didnât read anything other than ghoul, even after being sired. He wasnât about to go around telling people heâd changed. Donnie furrowed his brows, like he wasnât exactly sure what Al was playing at, and Val seemed to catch the confusion â so Al quickly pivoted. âBesides, Shortstop over here is fifteen seconds from tearing someone apart â which, considering youâre in the front and Iâm back here and he doesnât look like heâs showing that much discretion, someone is gonna be me â but a cigarette and a good slice of deep-dish pizza might---â
âYou serve me that nightmare you people call pizza and I will drown you in it.â Donnie snarled, something uncharacteristically mean for him, rounding on Al physically as he did so, the snap of his head coming straight from the sheer stress he was under. He immediately pulled back, recanting on his intensity, like the snap was something totally out of the blue, but Al didnât let him recoil too much â that was their ticket to the outside, after all. If he could get Donnie riled up, they would have to stop, and then they could regroup, form a plan, check their weapons, and Al wouldnât have felt quite so unprepared for everything. So he held both hands up in a show of fake deference.
âWoah, hey! See, look, Iâm gonna be back here with missing teeth for suggesting we get pizza just because weâre a couple hours south of Chicago! Itâs not like I suggested something weird, like anchovies, or pineapple. Itâs just deep dish, Donnie; you act like itâs an insult to your city that someone decided they wanted more sauce than they did cheeseââ
Al knew he was pressing. Al knew there would be a reaction. He was still surprised as hell when Donnie grabbed one lapel of his overly-large Hawaiian shirt, which was white with hamburgers printed on it, and pulled back a fist like he was actually going to throw hands.
âEnough!â Valâs voice was loud, or at least it seemed that way, reverberating through the back of the car, and everything suddenly settled. Al was familiar enough with the bloodâs ability to contort the mind, and he could tell the pall that fell over the car was her use of the blood instilling a sense of calm into the situation, and while he could have resisted it there wasnât any point in trying. Donnieâs fist didnât lower, but he didnât have it tensed anymore, the intent of swinging it no longer on his mind but no need to move instilled in him, either. Val looked furious, scarier than a decent amount of Kindred Al had met, if only in the fact that he was sure her rage was only just contained. âWeâll stop for burgers. Iâll order and youâll get what you get.â She snapped, and Al kept his hands up where they had been, now a show of deference to her more than Donnie. âBut if either of you so much as twitch like youâre going to cause a mess for me Iâm sinking you in the Mississippi and Ginny will not fucking care.â She threatened, and Al nodded, knowing how serious she was. It wasnât like he could do much else â the blood was invasive, touching his brain like a lover, telling him that calm agreement was the only right answer. âTell me yes maâam if you follow.â
âYes maâam.â Both men intoned, only partially of their own volition, the idea of saying yes maâam both something they wanted to do, considering agreement was getting what Al wanted, but also partially because saying anything else felt like it would physically hurt. With a snap, the wash over the back of the car retreated, and Al felt like he could move again. It helped that Donnie unclenched his fist from Alâs shirt â blessedly, he didnât pull too hard, which would have revealed the SMG in a holster under Alâs arm â leaving behind a fist-shaped indent in the fabric, leaning back against the other door and staring out of the window like if he could just see Vyx standing outside, the world would be right again. Val gave them both a stern look, before leaning back in her own seat, telling the driver to head to somewhere called Stacked â which he immediately took a turn, peeling off from the caravan without question.
The place wasnât too far from the bulk of downtown, and they drove in silence for the entire time, Donnie fuming against the window and Al trying not to feel like heâd just caused more issues than necessary. Did he really need to bring up pizza? Maybe not, but he knew Donnie was a New Yorker, and like most New Yorkers, he had feelings about pizza from other locations, Chicago being one of the most notable. All Al wanted was to rile the man up just enough to make his life seem like it was under threat â he could tell this wasnât an attempt to kill them, so if heâd wound up dead, that would actually cause them more issues. Heâd just said the wrong things â at this point, however, he was used to it. It was okay if Donnie hated him â most people did, after all.
âAlright. Iâm going inside to order. Dickâs sticking with the car. If either of you leave his sight, thatâs it. Got it?â Val asked, once they parked. Al nodded, which was enough for her, and she launched herself out of the car with a vigor that said she honestly didnât want to be around them, either. Donnie followed suit, throwing the door open, and he beelined across the street to a small park that sat, lonely, in the late evening. Al pushed the door open, catching the eyes of the driver, Dick, who nodded that the park was fine enough, before he followed at a slow pace. By the time he arrived at the park, Donnie was halfway through a cigarette and clearly aiming to smoke through the rest of his pack as quickly as he possibly could. Al didnât say anything for a long moment, simply settling in next to Donnie languidly, hitting his vape and quickly checking his SMGs. Now that they werenât in total sight, he could confirm the contents were tracer rounds; he didnât always load tracers, as he wasnât always fighting vampires. Donnie didnât look at him.
âWhy the hell are you like that?â Donnie asked, finally, finishing the first cigarette and tossing it into an empty fountain nearby. Al quirked a brow, tucking his guns carefully back under the shirt; it was why he always wore oversized shirts, after all. It was hard to pin the line of an SMG down under a shirt that was at least one size too big, especially from a shirt that was meant to fit big in the first place.
âLike what, not picky about pizza?â Al asked, rolling his eyes a little at the perceived question. He knew it probably wasnât what Donnie was asking, but avoiding bad conversations was a reflex. âIâm Russia, Shortstop. I simply donât hate deep dish. Sometimes you just want sauce, yâknow?â
âNo, I mean this shit.â Donnie gestured to Al with a waved hand, voice almost raised, like he was trying not to build too much through his words but he couldnât fight the anger in his voice at the re-mention of pizza or Alâs shitty, snotty tone. Al furrowed his brow, not expecting Donnie to keep trying â most people didnât put up with his persona long enough to clarify their questions. âThe whole asshole thing. Why the fuck are you such a dick to everyone?â
âDo you want the technical reason?â Al asked, actually somewhat serious, but it seemed his response only frustrated Donnie more, like the idea that there was a technical reason felt like bullshit. Al shrugged â he didnât need Donnie to actually believe him, but the expression looked like he at least wanted to hear it. âWhen youâre a dick, thatâs all people see. What they donât see is the trained KGB Op who just got us out of the car, away from our captor, and in a location where we can talk privately, which, youâre welcome.â Al shook his head, hitting his vape again and letting the smoke fill the space in front of him. It smelled a bit like pickles, though it was also strangely sweet and kind of sickly in its own unique way. The bottle in his pocket was labeled Pickle Rick in sharpie, which said enough about the flavor, or the maker, even if Al didnât actually like Rick and Morty. He thought it was boring and idiotic, but like most things, he liked the assumptions people made about him when they realized he vaped pickle juice labeled after the show. âPeople underestimate me when they think they can read me in an instant, and they donât realize Iâm handing them a faked pamphlet and letting them go for it.â
âYeah, but you do that with everyone.â Donnie was starting to soften from his anger, just a bit, because that did, kind of, make sense. Al was a spy, and spies did a lot of bullshit that normal people didnât for their work â it just didnât make sense that heâd want Donnie to underestimate him, too. âLike, fuck, dude, if I wasnât aware that this was at least kind of a bit, I wouldnât have hesitated back there.â Donnie gestured to the car, where the driver leaned against the side door, watching them. âIf it was just because you want people to think youâre nothing but a piece of shit, why the hell do you keep it up when youâre with just us?â
âI figure itâs probably how you already feel, so why try and do anything else?â Al said, something kind of bitchy to his tone, and he turned away from Donnie, trying to catch the sight of the water and trying not to look at anyone, Donnie especially. That had Donnie softening further, the anger vanishing and replaced with something like pity and something like curiosity; Al was, clearly, an extremely broken person hiding behind a mask, but he was so shattered that Donnie couldnât begin to piece together who heâd been before heâd been smashed into bits. It was a weird sensation, because Donnie was still mad â he wasnât letting the pizza thing go just yet, not to mention Vyx still wasnât there and he was still doing a shitty job of being their boyfriend or bodyguard and he couldnât let that go â but the pity was sobering. âItâs easier to assume most people think Iâm a jackass from the jump and play to it than try and change their minds. Most people hate me anyway, and thereâs nothing I can do to fix that.â
âWhy would you think people hate you?â Donnie asked, lighting the new cigarette. He paused a moment, considering them, before passing Al the pack; Al denied the offer with a hand, holding up his vape like that was sufficient. Did he like the pickle flavor? A little. But even that was part of the persona, part of the bit. Al was simply layers and layers of deception, one over another, until there wasnât anything left but the lies he told, after all. If there was a real person under the mask, Donnie couldnât see it.
âDamn.â Al chuckled, but it wasnât a chuckle like Donnie had told a funny joke but like Donnieâs words were a funny joke, and one Donnie wasnât in on. âVyx said they ran you through the basics â you heard what I did, right? The whole sided with the wrong guy, betrayed all my friends, partner definitely thought I killed him for his whole ten year death stint? That shit?â Al asked like he was trying to jog Donnieâs memory, like if the man just recalled Alâs crimes, heâd agree. âMost people we meet were there for that, and I didnât exactly make friends. If I assumed I was well loved everywhere I went, Iâd be setting myself up for disappointment every time.â
âVyx told me the big picture stuff.â Donnie said, agreeing that at least that was true, pulling hard on the cigarette and letting the smoke out slowly. It was calming. âBut I also donât care.â He paused, casting a look to Al and finding that comment garnered, of all things, shock. Al clearly had no concept of anyone not caring. âI wasnât there for any of it, so itâs not for me to judge. You did what you probably thought was the right choice, or hell, the only choice, if the stories Iâve gotten say anything, and I canât judge. The only thing I can judge is that from the moment you and I met, youâve been a massive dick to just about everyone, including the people who are trying to give a shit about you.â
âHa ha, very funny, Shortstop. Nobodyâs out there trying to give a shit about me.â Alâs response was catty, bitter, angry, and Donnie felt the pity in his stomach turn solid like a weight and settle there, heavy. It almost made him angry, how callous Al was, but he had to tamp back on the feeling, because it would only serve to prove Al was right. That he was universally hated by everyone theyâd met.
âYeah?â Donnieâs question caught Alâs attention, the way he said yeah like he knew something Al didnât and wanted to know if that was the other manâs final answer. âSo the short, pink haired enby who you chased away and who came back anyway is just nobody?â Donnie clarified, and that, at least, had Al looking a bit sheepish.
âTheyâre different.â
âNo, Al, theyâre not.â Donnie corrected, flicking the ashes off his cigarette before taking another long draw. âLook, hereâs the thing. I donât give a shit what you did, or didnât, do during the war. Betrayed people, shot someone â everyone I know has been fucked up by that shit, yâknow? I might not have known Molly before the war, but Iâve talked to her a couple of times and I can tell sheâs been changed just from that, and I can feel it in the way the rest of you interact. Youâre not subtle.â Donnie shook his head, giving Al something like a smile, like it was almost funny that people thought they were hiding the trauma from him. âYou hardly look at Vince, like youâre still mad but also like you still feel guilty. April looks at him like she keeps seeing a ghost, and sometimes I see the looks she shoots you. Somewhere between bitter and impressed. Youâve all done some shit. None of you are different.â
âYeah, and that means that everyone thinks Iâm shit, thatâs the point Iâm making.â Al tried to interrupt, but Donnie shook his head, rolling his eyes a little at the protest. Like if Al could just take the conversation and turn it back to how he was right, he wouldnât hear the end of it.
âVyx very clearly thinks youâre not that bad.â Donnie corrected, gesturing at Al with the lit cigarette like he was using it to prove his point. âAnd honestly, if anyone in our polycule should think youâre shit, itâs them. They told me what you did.â Donnie paused, there, letting that settle over Al like a weight. Donnie watched Alâs expression fall into something almost like shame, which seemed to be a rare emotion. âI donât give a shit what you did before the war. What I do give a shit about is how youâve treated them. And I know the asshole shitâs a persona, because now that theyâre back, youâre night and day with them. Youâre like a real fucking person with them.â
âThey deserve it, for the hell Iâve put them through.â Al said, softly, and Donnie sighed. The self-deprecating was predictable, and maybe a bit deserved, but not really prudent to the conversation.
âThen why the hell canât you be a real person for the rest of us?â Donnie asked, finally letting the exasperation of the situation come through, and Al finally looked up at him like heâd asked a real question Al honestly didnât have an answer to. âYou trust them, right? They came back, so you trust them.â Donnie paused, waiting for the protest, and when none came, he continued. âAnd they trust me, and Vince, and Flidais, and April. So why the hell do you keep treating the people they trust with their life like weâre just outsiders that need to be kept away?â Donnie put his hands out, like he was offering up something different, and Al didnât respond, turning away to vape pickle-sweetness in the other direction. Donnie sighed. âLike, fuck, man, doesnât it get tiring, being like this?â
âWhat, the persona?â Al asked, and Donnie nodded, which actually brought a laugh to Alâs lips, a breathy chuckle like the question was funny because the answer was obviously. âKinda, yeah. Thereâs a lot to remember, sometimes, yâknow. Layers and layers, some people know some things and other people know other things.â Al shrugged, like that was the price of the persona, having to track all the details for so many separate people and keeping them all separate. Donnie furrowed his brow, an honest curiosity to his face.
âThen why are you still doing it?â Donnie asked, softly, and that seemed to hit Al like a truck. âYouâre not fooling us, you know. I could tell it was a persona from the moment we met, mostly. Everyone else knows you. Why the hell are you doing something so exhausting for a group of people who already know youâre not a dick and who prefer when youâre not?â Donnie let the question settle, and there wasnât a response; Al simply pulled on his vape, leaning against a nearby tree. Clearly, the words had brought some thoughts to Alâs mind, and he wasnât entirely sure how to process them, so they rattled around in his head in a way that said he wasnât going to get an answer that night, if even that week. Donnie figured that was good enough, at least; it was better than just ignoring it. âJust⊠think about it, okay? And maybe chill it on the pizza thing.â
âHey, to be fair, I did want you to get mad.â Al popped back into his usual self, though Donnie could tell that something had taken root in Alâs brain, his tone a little less shitty than before. Heâd been softening, Donnie had noticed, but this transition from ass to something more palpable was noticeable in the moment. âShould have just said the Yankees sucked, huh?â
âThat wouldnât have mattered.â Donnie chuckled. âThat was Rayâs thing. Trust me, Iâm already there, you donât have to say anything.â
âYou know theyâll be fine, right?â Al asked, looking up at Donnie with an expression that was almost something like comfort. Like he was trying to tell Donnie something important that he really needed, in the same way heâd told Al something important in return. âVyx, I mean. Theyâll be fine until we get there.â Al paused, watching Donnie cast his expression back to the road, and he sighed, seeing the way he had previously responded â avoidant, disbelieving â in Donnieâs shoulders. âFor one, Flidais is there, and if you want someone whoâs intense about protecting her own, thatâs Red for ya. Not to mention, theyâre Vinceâs twin, and that idiot managed to get on the wrong side of the worst people and somehow walk away from every interaction. The amount that Iâve almost watched that man die is significantly higher than most people, and Vyx knows how to do that shit intentionally.â
âYeah, thatâs fair.â Donnie sighed, trying to let the worry go and finding it cling to him anyway like a wet swimsuit to his legs, down to the part where he could tell it would chafe if he kept trying to push through it. âI just⊠Iâm their bodyguard, yâknow? Iâm doing a bad job.â
âOh, no, youâre doing a great job.â Al chuckled. âYouâre at murder and they havenât done anything yet â we called that prepared in this business. Just save that energy until we get there. Then you can start pushing peopleâs faces in. Trust me â you think Ray frets when Mollyâs in another room? Or does he simply swing the second he needs to and lets Molly dictate when that is?â
âHe frets when Ryanâs away.â Donnie clarified, and that brought a snicker to Alâs lips. âSwinging Bimbos has a line item in the budget for floor tile replacement, since Ray can wear a line in the floor from pacing when Ryanâs out of town. Molly tries to make sure he stays busy, but things fall through, you know.â He shrugged, and Al grinned at him like this was the kind of juicy gossip he wanted to hear.
âYeah, well, first, thatâs hilarious. Second, youâre not even remotely that neurotic, so comparing yourself to him like that isnât healthy.â Al chuckled. âAnd I know a thing or two about unhealthy coping behaviors.â He shook his head, hearing the door to Stacked open, Val coming back out of the building with two bags of burgers. âSpeaking of, I, uh. I donât actually know if I can eat this, so we might have to employ some very unhealthy coping mechanisms to keep me from ruining my lie, here.â
âIâm not kissing you.â Donnie said, simply, watching Val storm over to the driver. She looked pissed, but she always sort of looked pissed, and the driver didnât look particularly upset by her mood, so it likely wasnât much past normal. Al snorted at the words, watching the driver gesture with his head for them to return, starting that way and turning to look at Donnie as he did.
âOh, god no.â Al cackled. âI was thinking more throw me out of the car. Considering Flidais did that once as a ghoul, Iâm totally capable of taking it. And weâre not going to be going half as fast.â He turned back when Donnie started to follow, talking to the space behind him. âIf I look like Iâm gonna hurl, just reach past me, crack the door and push me out. I can roll, Iâll be good.â
âLetâs just hope we donât need to get there.â Donnie said, with a sigh, following Al behind. Was he less stressed? Maybe a little. Sure, he believed in Vyx, and he believed Al when he said Vinceâs track record was pretty solid, but ultimately, it came down to trust. He had to trust Vyx to be okay while he was gone, and it while it wasnât something he was going to get good at quickly, this was good practice.
Besides, considering throwing Al out of the car was funny enough to distract him.
âLook, all Iâm saying, Shortstop, is that thereâs a balance between cheese and tomato and some New York City eateries skimp a bit on the sauce.â Al jumped right into a conversation they hadnât been having as he approached the car, clearly covering up their actual topics, and Donnie didnât have to act to let his face fall into anger again. Sure, he knew it was a persona, and there was something different about it when it wasnât aimed at him, but it didnât mean he liked the topic being about pizza, still. He had opinions on pizza, and Chicago didnât rate in the positives. Al didnât let the conversation continue, turning briefly to give Donnie a wink that said as much before turning back around to Val. âThereâs the Burger Queen! Took you long enough. Whatâdâya get?â
Donnie climbed into the car, watching Al take the bag as he followed them inside, the car door closing and cutting them off from the world again. Al cracked the paper, peering inside, and the groan he let out was so overblown it was clearly part of the running gag Donnie was now privy to. âUh, fair warning, BQ, onions make me gassy as shit. But hey, you wanted to order, right?â Al asked, and that actually brought a chuckle to Donnieâs face, and the snicker had Al smiling like he was suddenly glad Donnie was in on their private joke and something in the Brujahâs chest bloomed into a feeling that might have been the precursor to friendship.
Maybe he could deal with the persona, he thought, as they rode off towards Union Station â as long as he was in on it.
And as long as it didnât make them way too late, either.
~*~
Vince wasnât exactly how they managed to arrive first when they were in a caravan of three that all left at the same time, but heâd been blood bonded to an Antidiluvian, so he was used to things being strange.
Theyâd arrived at the Union Station fairly quickly, as Ginnyâs directions were impeccable and managed to avoid even the worst of the traffic, darting through the tight streets like they owned them. She was a native of the area, and it was clear from the way she got the driver to cut through back streets, though it meant they lost the bus and the other SUV within moments. Vince had no expectations for their destination, honestly, considering heâd never been that far West and being dead for most of a decade didnât help much, either, but the building that they pulled up to was definitely something else. He took a moment to stare up at it as they piled out of the car, craning his neck to see everything, and the place theyâd arrived at was definitely impressive. Union station was an old, stone thing, with whitewashed masonry and a red roof, stained glass windows and a clock tower looming over them, a Ferris wheel turning slowly in the distance, bright against the darkness of the night. It felt like the meeting of old and new, which was a perfect place for vampires to hang out. Vince scanned over the building, and he could see the distant trains, disembodied and faint, still moving in and out of the building, the long smoke stacks and trails of black smoke fogging up the air. Luckily, being dead for a decade hadnât killed any of Vinceâs skills in interpretation, so he was sure that the faintness meant it wasnât a train station anymore, just that it had been at one point. It did mean that, when they opened the front doors and stepped inside, seeing people in droves was a surprise.
What Vince hadnât known, or realized, was that there was a party going on, but that became quickly apparent as they headed inside and towards the back of the large entrance hall. While the space was massive, due to its previous life as a train station for a fairly popular port town, it was still chock full of people â mostly Kindred, if a quick scan of auras told Vince anything â most of which were sporting some kind of wine-adjacent drink. The Prince was throwing a shindig for some reason, and it was popular. Vince whistled, following Ginny towards the back, where a bar stood, almost lonely in the sea of voices and bodies. The stools were empty, most people moving on after getting their drinks and nobody wanting to hang around the area, and Ginny stopped there, leaning on the bar top. To Vince, she looked like a wolf wearing a jersey, something that looked a little like a Disney villain but with the capacity to really tear them apart.
âOkay, so.â She said, and she spoke a little breathlessly, like things had gone wrong in some capacity, and while sheâd expected things to go wrong, she still hated having to do that part of her job all the same. âVal apparently needed to stop, and the bus is also lagging behind a bit. Iâm going to go back out and see if I can coordinate their arrival. You two, stay here.â Ginny patted the bar top, before gesturing to the bar as though to say right there. âFar as I can tell, youâre both the responsible ones in this coterie of yours, so I donât imagine youâll get up to much, but the bartender has my number, so donât try anything.â She raised an eyebrow, and Vince shrugged.
âMaâam, to be real here, Iâve been a functional form again for⊠a couple of days. Trying things isnât really on my to-do.â Vince shrugged, pulling up a stool and settling down. April settled in next to him, a little nervous but taking his lead, which seemed to be enough â Ginny gave the bar one last slap, a sign that she was good to go, and all but zoomed over to the other end, leaving Vince and April alone with their bartender. The man was a bit of a hipster, with long, brown hair and a brown jacket and the kind of frown that said that, no matter what they ordered, he would probably be personally offended by their taste. Vince wasnât putt off by the visage â heâd dealt with angrier. Besides, there was only so much he could be intimidated by a teddy bear. âHey, barkeep. Whatâs on tap?â
âFor your kind, we have V, both the Black Label varieties as well as the new Austere line.â The bartender hardly changed his inflection from generally bored, pulling a few bottles from behind the bar. One was a dark red bottle with a black label and red writing; the other two were green, both with black labels, but the writing was gold with different colors under the name, indicating the different varieties â things like Blond Mix and Raven Locks and Death by Chocolate. âAustere just released last holiday season. Itâs meant to be kind of a spiced wine. Not sure it works on its own, but a few mulling spices help.â He gestured, and Vince pulled the bottle closer, something strange on his face, like he was seeing an old friend for the first time.
âIâll take the Austere, then. Just⊠two glasses is fine, I kinda want to keep the bottle.â He grinned, and the bartender shrugged, pulling two wine glasses from a relatively empty rack and setting them down in front of them. âCan we run a tab?â
âThe Prince is covering all drinks. Youâll know if you need to pay me.â The bartender shook his head, like these plebeians that didnât know they didnât have to pay were getting on his nerves, before he stepped away to take care of another customer. Vince didnât pay him any mind, running a thumb over the paper label, letting his hands travel up the bottle to the cork. He was intimate with it, gentle and tender - he held it, stroked it, like a lover. April made a face, like she wasnât entirely sure what Vince was doing with the bottle but she didnât exactly like it without the context.
âDo you need like, a moment?â She asked, concerned, and Vince finally turned to her like heâd forgotten she was there, a cackle escaping him as he realized what it looked like. It didnât help that he had his hand wrapped around the bottleâs neck in a way that was maybe a bit more intimate than one should be with a bottle.
âOh, no, sorry.â He chuckled, uncorking the wine and pouring two quick glasses with a hand that was surprisingly practiced, considering heâd been dead a decade. Heâd clearly done his part learning to pour wine. âI just, uh. I actually made this wine label? Way back in the day. V was my idea. Yâknow, V for Vince.â He shrugged, rolling the neck of the bottle to catch any drips like a man whoâd spent time behind a bar before â which, he had, heâd been the bartender at Geometry before anyone else, after all â and setting it back down, just within reach. He could still see the label, and that was enough. It was prettier than he could have imagined, and while he wasnât exactly a man who wanted progeny, he understood the urge to produce something that would outlast him. âI made it âcause Kana was super picky about what she drank, being a Ventrue, so I went, hey, wouldnât it be neat if there was blood wine where you could actually tell from the label whoâs in it? âCause weâd drink but she wouldnât know so it was always a gamble. So then we have the Black label, where itâs all code â Blond, right, or Raven for hair, or Chocolate for skin color, stuff like that - and then I guess itâs expanded from there.â He chuckled, but it was a sad thing, something that said time was an ever present specter that constantly chased down everything he did. While it was good to see it had outlasted him, having it escape his control was also a little off-putting. April pulled her wine to her, watching him curiously. âA lotâs changed.â He added, softly, and she nodded, a realization coming over her as she did.
âHas anyone told you whatâs happened, sinceâŠ?â She paused, unwilling to say the word that he died, because he hadnât, not really. Dead people, really dead people, didnât sit around and talk and recount stories and feel emotions. It made it weird, putting a threshold on since he died, considering he was sitting there watching her and that meant he was clearly not dead â but he had been, and it had almost been a decade. Vince shook his head, pulling the wine to his face and smelling it first, like he wanted to appreciate his hard work. Even if he hadnât designed any Christmas wines.
âNo. I mean, I got a little from being dead, but then Molly brought me back and I came⊠literally straight to the bus. I havenât really learned much.â He sighed, letting his shoulders sink softly. What he did know wasnât great â speaking to other dead people meant that other people had to be dead, after all. âI know⊠I know Bellaâs dead. Soâs Anthony. I got to talk to her, on the other side of things. She said we won.â He paused, looking to April, who had also brought the wine to her nose. It smelled like spices, but also copper.
âWe did.â April confirmed, taking a sip. The bartender was right â it wasnât quite there, but with some additional spices, it probably would have made a great mulled wine. Vince probably would have made better. âIt wasnât easy, but we did it.â
âHow?â Vince asked, and April turned around, leaning against the bar, trying to think. It was hard, remembering things that happened almost ten years previously, even if the impact of those moments hadnât ever left her.
âWell, this is all like, third hand, since I wasnât really there, right?â April clarified, giving Vince a look that said that if her knowledge contradicted other peopleâs, that was probably why. Sheâd been a ghoul, back then, and the group had decided it was better to leave the squishy, almost Kine behind. âBut Iâve talked to people enough to kind of put it together.â She paused, trying to make sure the events were right in her head. Third hand information was hard to collect. âSo, we had all that stuff in City Center Park, right? You were there for that.â
âI did get shot after that, yeah.â Vince chuckled, the brief flash of heat in his face almost making him wince. For them, it had been nearly a decade. For him, it had been all of five minutes, and he could still smell the gunpowder and hear the crack of the rifle and feel the pain spreading through his face, and the Tempest loomed in the background like a distant storm, and he shook his head, taking a long swig of wine to tamp down on the visions. It was difficult to get lost in the spirit with the strong taste of spice and copper in his mouth. April didnât linger long.
âAfter that, everyone went into the Shadowlands, and from what I heard, it was⊠stressful, and then it wasnât?â She shrugged, like she didnât have better words, but Vince accepted it. âI think the plan we made, in the hotel, went really well, actually. Iâve kinda gathered this all from various people, but Konrad and Dr. Straub and Marie didnât actually go into the Shadowlands until the first team had been in for a second, and apparently that was the kicker.â She chuckled, like it was almost funny. âApparently, Marie was Malkav. I asked Konrad about a lot of this right after, âcause I spent some time in New York, and he confirmed â Marie used that one Auspex thing, the Psychic Assault thing, on Eldest, and that just ashed her. When that happened, that was it, the ritual couldnât continue and it all went to bust.â
âOh damn.â Vince had to hold back a chuckle himself, though his was less mirth and more the shock of hearing the woman that had plagued his memory for three years had just been dusted like nothing by another Antediluvian who had possessed his friend, and that the action had thus ended the entire war. It was kind of a lot. âWait, if Iâve walked away from that power before, does that mean Iâm better than Eldest?â
âOr luckier.â April shrugged. There were too many variables to really know for sure. âEither way, it didnât last long after that. When they came back out, you were⊠well.â She paused, letting out a soft breathe. It was hard to talk about, honestly. There hadnât been anything left except his rifle, his jacket, and the story from the others, which had described an unknown sniper. âAl said your cigarette was floating, that youâd left it behind somehow, but I think he was just in shock. I mean, one minute heâd left and the next he was back and you were just gone, so I can understand if he just saw things and didnât get them.â
âOh, the cigarette thing is just like⊠a thing.â Vince said, struggling for words. He pulled a cigarette out of his pocket, holding it lightly between two fingers. âIâve kinda figured that out on the bus, actually. Marie did it, once â I think she was probably kinda Malkav at the time. Martha tried to shoot it out of the air regardless. We couldnât ever figure out how sheâd managed to make it float, and like, I couldnât tell you for beans how Iâve managed to make it float sometimes, but I can?â He held the cigarette out over the counter, watching it for a second before letting go. It hit the counter lightly, bouncing once. âI canât do it if Iâm thinking about it, though. It makes it hard to demonstrate.â
âYeah. Sure.â April sighed. Did she believe him? Mostly. Malkavians really were a different breed â she knew they had trouble lying, so it wasnât like he was telling her a fib, but cigarettes simply didnât float. âRegardless, I heard he went kind of on a bender trying to figure out who took the shot, but if he found an answer, I havenât heard it. I think the idea that you could come back tempered his need to find out.â She shrugged. âAnd then, of course, you didnât, and depression killed the rest, I guess. I heard through the grapevine something about it being a Banu-Haqim that actually took the shot, but if thatâs the case, nobodyâs come forward to claim the kill. Which would be weird if it was actually a real hit, so I think maybe someone got a little bit too trigger happy and you werenât actually on the docket.â
âEh, maybe. It was a war. Indiscriminate killing was absolutely the name of the game and I did step out into the open without checking first. As a sniper myself, I should have known better, honestly.â Vince shrugged, unfazed by the idea of his murderer being still on the loose. âBesides, I was a problem, even if I wasnât on a hit list. Iâm surprised only one Assamite even took a shot at me â if thatâs even the Clan youâre referencing. I figure it is, since isnât their guy in the chair Haqim?â
âThey go by the Banu-Haqim now, yeah. Apparently the other term isnât something theyâre particularly keen on, and weâre trying not to make too many new enemies. I think it was part of the results of the civil war that happened.â April took another sip of wine, swirling it around in her glass. âHaythamâs in Concord, if my information serves. Thereâs a couple refuges from the war hiding out there right now. Something about therapy? Hell if I know for sure.â April shrugged. âAlâs been keeping an eye on their outgoing messages. Someone named Clarity keeps sending reports out to someone else in Turkey, but theyâre all mostly about the mental health of their three charges â someone they keep calling Deathstroke, someone they keep calling Poison Ivy, and someone theyâre calling Harvey Dent.â
âSomeone really likes DC Comics, huh? Or theyâre a Malk, just babysitting.â Vince offered, gesturing with the glass.
âI think they just like comics. If they were a Malk, I wouldnât be able to read their reports as well â theyâre way too coherent.â April shook her head. âI know Dentâs referencing Haytham, though. I mean, Two-Face? You couldnât get more heavy-handed if you wanted to.â She sighed. Haytham had been on their side, sometimes, but not always, and the way he switched between the two said that loyalty wasnât really his strong suit. Or, at least, he was easily swayed. Sometimes, it was nice knowing he was easy to convince, but there were always downsides. âFar as the reports go, theyâre doing alright. No idea who the other two Banu-Haqim are, but Alâs only been skimming the reports and then passing them on to me to catalog. Apparently, he was tracing a bunch of different names right before Vyx came back, one of which might be there, and even though he gave up on the effort, he didnât remove the trace on their Wi-fi. Better to keep it, just in case.â
âConsidering, itâs probably not a bad idea. Keeping your pulse on the assassin clan is always a good thing. Then, you at least know whoâs pissing people off.â Vince shook his head, pouring himself another glass of the wine. For all it tasted a bit bad, he didnât mind it. He could still taste food, after all, and he liked his wine a little bitter. âWhat happened after? I know Greensboro was probably a mess for a while, considering Dodge got offed by⊠oh god, was it Dhakir? I think it was Dhakir. And I know Dennis didnât make it.â
âOh god no. Kanaâs taken up the mantle of Prince, now.â April delivered the news, and the brief look of delight on Vinceâs face was enough proof that this was a good thing. Kana was his best friend, after all, and she made a decent leader. âSvenâs Sheriff, Nakamuraâs the Scourge. Kana sired him, after the war. She actually asked for most of us remaining ghouls to be sired, which is why Iâm here like this.â April gestured to herself, and Vince quickly flickered into Auspex long enough to see that she was, in fact, a vampire, where before sheâd been only a ghoul. âMolly helped me find a sire in her friend Rita. I donât know if you ever actually met her.â
âI donât think I did, but something about her feels⊠close. Like⊠like her nameâs been carved in a tree I sat under as a kid, yâknow? Iâve seen her name and I know her presence and Iâve touched the hands sheâs touched, but thereâs so much distance between us that wonât ever really get covered. If that makes any sense.â Vince pursed his lips, trying to describe the feeling. It was hard enough to interpret for himself what he saw in his mindâs eye when he thought of Rita â trees and darkness and this touch of something otherworldly, like sunlight he could actually feel â let alone translate it for someone else. âLike, if we werenât vampires, Iâd assume she was the dead matriarch of a family I knew really well, âcause it feels like I should know her just from who I do know, but I just never got the chance to actually meet her.â
âWell, you know Martha, right?â April asked, trying to piece the connection together. If Vince had a hard time getting the words to feel right, April had a harder time making sense of them, having no exposure to the blood like Vince did. âMarthaâs sire, Rosemary, was Ritaâs wife? So maybe thatâs what youâre feeling.â She shrugged, unable to understand it. Clearly, there was something deeper going on, something very Malkavian in tone, and she was simply unequipped to handle it. It didnât help that Vince nodded along to her answer like that made perfect sense. âIâm a Lasombra, now. Itâs been⊠an adjustment.â
âI figure. Brujah to Lasombra is a jump.â Vince shook his head, turning to actually face her. âYou said Al was sired? Thatâs news. His aura reads ghoul still, but I honestly shouldnât have expected anything less from him.â
âYeah, but⊠I donât think itâs my place to tell you who sired him.â April pursed her lips. âIf he hasnât told you, I donât⊠I donât know if he trusts me, yet, but I know if I told you who his sire was and he didnât want me to spill that information, he wouldnât trust me ever again.â
âYeah, fair.â Vince sighed. âIâll ask him later. The blood isnât---itâs not really helpful for you all, yâknow.â Vince put his hands out, like he was watching the words pool in the space between his palms and like if he just massaged them a bit, heâd made something that sounded like a sentence. âSome people I saw who they were, who they really were, like, instantly. Like Damon. Damon was a storm cloud from the moment we spoke. But some people were just⊠confusing, I guess, even for the blood? And then thereâs people I get to know really well, and the blood sort of fades out when I do. Like knowing someone intimately overrides the truth of what I see.â He shook his head, turning to April with an expression that was simply sad. âI think maybe people would trust what I say more if the blood actually behaved properly, but it just⊠itâs not consistent, right now.â
âI mean, you were dead.â April shrugged. âDying changes things, yâknow? And itâs been nearly a decade.â She shook her head, and Vince shrugged. If it really bothered him, he didnât let it show much.
âWe all have our adjustments to make, I guess, huh?â He asked, raising an eyebrow to indicate his use of her words was intentional. She shook her head, but she had a smile on her face, something that said she didnât mind the connection. âSo, Svenâs Sheriff, Nakamuraâs Scourge. Anyone else in the upper echelon that I should know?â
âUh, well. Danâs still the Brujah primogen.â April grimaced, and Vince also made a face, almost spitting his wine out as he did so. Neither needed to elaborate on why that was funny, as they both knew â Dan wasnât a Brujah, not anymore. âI think Kana figured that, as long as people werenât asking questions, it wasnât that big of an issue. And itâs not like Dan causes problems, so as long as people arenât getting curious, I think the plan is just to leave it as is.â She shrugged. âDamonâs running Winston, which he has since renamed.â
âOh god, that manâs ego didnât even take a dent from the war, did it?â Vince sighed. He and Damon werenât⊠friends, though he was under the impression that Damon didnât realize that yet. The not-quite-a-Tremere clearly hadnât read all of Vinceâs notes, or he would have seen the various times Vince wrote Damon is extremely frustrating and I donât like this. It was often. âHas anyone caught on, yet, to his, uh. Problem?â
âNo, but thereâs been no shortage of drama.â April rolled her eyes. Damon was definitely not a man for subtle. âThe Chantryâs been through it â there was this whole coup thing, which was a mess. Not exactly weird for the Tremere, but it means the whole Chantryâs been restructured from the ground up. Â And, from what I heard tell, Vyx also ripped him a new asshole on your behalf. Apparently, he added a few things into your context so he didnât look like quite a bad guy.â
âAh, yeah, that makes sense.â Vince also rolled his eyes, but less at Damonâs shitty actions and more at the idea that anyone thought it would work. âWildly, I have more memory access from the war now than I did back then, not less. I was wondering why I had two versions of the same memory. Unfortunately for him, getting yelled at âcause I wouldnât let them murder my husband was traumatic enough that itâs been burned into my very brainfolds.â He shrugged. âGlad to know someone came after his ass. Honestly should have done that myself earlier, but we were trying to organize several hundred Kindred for a war.â
âI think everyone is realizing we should have yelled at Damon earlier for his bullshit. Including Sven. Apparently, when he found out Damon had tampered with your memories, he was pissed. To call what they went through a rough patch is taking it lightly.â April rolled her eyes, and her whole head, at the whole situation. âOh, in the good news, not everyone is dead. Molly went and raised a few people who didnât make it through the war, but some people werenât accessible. Svenâs got most of his kids back, Malvernâs fine, brought back a couple others. The one Malk from Raleigh, Alice, the kid? She didnât come back, and Dodge was also apparently MIAwhen Molly went looking.â
âAlice is probably my bad. She was guiding me through the spirit, like the Virgil to my Dante.â Vince chuckled. âShe also didnât seem like she wanted to go back. She was Malkavâs childe, after all. The blood really got to her.â
âYeah, though Molly didnât also try very hard with her. I think she did it just âcause Aliceâs childe, Sadie, the cute kid, asked, and Mollyâs apparently a sucker for a sweet childâs face.â April took the bottle from Vince, pouring herself a small amount more of the blood. It gave her something to do with her hands. âOh! Nakamura asked Kana to marry him. They tied the knot in 2019. Kana was a little upset you didnât get to come back for it, but there was something about her immigration that she just didnât want to deal with that needed her married and quickly.â
âAww, Iâm proud of them.â Vinceâs face split in a smile that was, really and truly, proud of the two of them. Heâd been there when theyâd first found Nakamura, Kanaâs new husband, and heâd watched them every step of the way. Knowing they reached the inevitable conclusion made him feel nice inside. âAnd Iâm glad they didnât wait ten years just so I could be there.â
âWell, rumor has it that Martha and Jess have been engaged for a billion years, but Marthaâs been waiting for you, so they havenât gotten married yet.â April got a chance to give Vince a raised eyebrow, and the manâs face seemed surprised at the names being used, let alone the situation. âIâd make sure someone tells her youâre alive again before too long. Theyâve been waiting long enough.â
âOh yeah, Iâll definitely get on letting her know as soon as weâre home.â Vince breathed out, something soft and sweet and adoring at the mention of Marthaâs name. The man had two friends, as far as April understood â one was Kana, and the other was Martha. Everyone else was either just an acquaintance, a partner, or a prospect towards something greater. But Martha was special. âGod, you know, I just realized, when we get home, there wonât be a war on.â He said, turning to April with an expression that was almost a little afraid. âThe fuck am I going to do? Iâve been embroiled in this Pip bullshit from before I was even sired.â
âWell, as far as I know, the position of Seneschal has been kept open, just in case a certain someone decided to come back and grace us with his dumb smile.â April delivered the news, and Vince looked at her with a furrowed brow, like he didnât understand. Malkavians. April sighed. âKana thought youâd work well as her Seneschal, so she hasnât filled the position yet. I donât know how long she was going to wait, but apparently at least a decade. So you technically have a job when you get home, if you want it.â
 âI mean, Iâll take it, but⊠whatâs a Seneschal?â Vince asked, his expression of confusion not changing, even with her explanation. âI recognize the name, âcause I think there was one in London? But that was a cardboard cutout of a man in someone elseâs pants, literally, and I never really figured out what the hell he did other than cause us problems.â Vince chuckled, and April watched him for a long second, processing his lack of knowledge. Sheâd forgotten, somehow, that it had been a decade, and many places hadnât had all three of their Council seats filled when Vince had visited. In the times since, more places had found uses for Seneschals, and had replaced their Sheriffs and Scourges as necessary to keep the positions intact â but Vince wouldnât have known that. She sighed.
âSeneschals act in the Princeâs place for stuff that isnât all that important. Youâd be like the first point of contact for Neonates, or you might go with the Sheriff somewhere to like, ensure the Princeâs orders are carried out to the letter, stuff like that. Kanaâs also been talking about having you declare edicts and other stuff, mostly âcause nobody we know actually has the position filled that does that.â April shrugged, only pausing at the look on Vinceâs face â it was one that said she knew a lot more than heâd expected, and he wasnât sure how sheâd found out. âIâve done some research. After the war, I started trying to catalog who got promoted where and what changed, power-structure wise. At first it was just âcause Kana was a little in over her head and she asked me to help her out, but then other Princes and Bishops and Barons were emailing my burner, asking if I could forward them the information, and I did, but only in exchange for the same information from their city. But that meant I had to know what everyone did.â
âI mean, it definitely sounds like a job I could do.â Vince shrugged, but there was something like delight in his face, like the idea that he had not only a job but friends that gave enough of a shit about him to save him that same job for over a decade was honestly incredible to find out. He picked up the cigarette that had been on the table since heâd dropped it, putting it between his lips and pulling out a lighter. The bartender didnât stop him, nor did he look like he cared either way. âThatâs all I did during the war, after all. Talked to people. Surprisingly, it went well, though Iâm not really sure how.â He chuckled.
âHonestly, Vince, itâs kind of made you a legend, a little.â April said, softly, and Vince looked at her like sheâd suddenly grown another head. She chuckled, because honestly, it was as strange as it was funny. âI mean, look at what we did, Vince. We managed to take vampires from five countries and like, four states, and convince them the world was ending. We put Tremere and Salubri on the same side of the war and they managed to not kill each other. You looked at Dracula and asked him to fight and he said yes. Vince, you met Cain!â Aprilâs voice rose as she spoke, and she stopped herself at the statement, noticing how many people were actively looking at her and realizing that shouting about Cain probably wasnât the best idea. She took a breath, controlling herself. âAnd then you died, and it⊠sort of took off. Now youâre something special, I think.â
âIt wasnât just me, though.â Vince said, taking a long draw off the cigarette. âLike, minimum, I wouldnât have made it that far without Dan, or Kana, or Nakamura, or hell, Al.â
âYeah, but itâs also really hard to convince anyone that Damon Wellington was palpable enough as a person to do what you did.â April countered, and that had Vince holding his hands up in concession of the point. âLike, look at who did the traveling, Vince. You really think people are gonna look at Kana, Dan, Damon, and Martha and think anyone other than Martha actually did the heavy lifting?â She asked, and that had Vince holding his hands up a little further, as though she didnât need to drill the point home. âRegardless, most people consider you the, uh⊠mouth, I guess, of that group, so they slot your successes with people into your victory pile. Pulling you as Seneschal isnât just sound for your friendship, but itâs politically good, too. Any Kindred who were around before the war will know you as the guy who talks big game and gets things done.â
âOh god, are we sure I should take that? I donât want to disappoint.â Vince laughed. âConvincing people to join me is like trying to make the cigarette hang in the air â Iâm not exactly sure how itâs done, and I know I canât do it on purpose.â He shrugged, shaking his head. âItâs not your problem, though, so Iâll just talk to Kana later. Weâll figure it out. Hell, maybe I can learn on the job.â Vince shrugged again, turning to lean back against the bar, cigarette dangling from between his lips. âBut hey, thatâs something good that came out of this mess, right? It could be worse. We could have a lot more dead.â He paused, turning to his wine glass and lifting it towards April, a silent gesture for a toast, and April lifted her glass to join him. âTo those of us who made it, and those of us who didnât.â
Vince took the cigarette from his lips, holding it in the air next to him as he skulled his glass. April didnât down hers, just taking a long drink, setting it down on the counter when Vince set his down. They didnât say anything else, not for a long moment, Vince staring off into the middle distance as heâd come to do so often, watching the ghosts dance behind his eyes. This place was full, and even April could tell â places with history had shadows that moved, shifted, danced, even if she wasnât in tune with the spirit like Vince was. Luckily, they didnât wait much longer, as the door to the other end of the train station burst open, Val the first figure to enter, followed quickly by Donnie and Al. Vince sat up as they arrived, pushing himself from the seat quickly to go make sure everyone was okay.
The cigarette hung lightly in the air where his hand had been, his fingers having simply let go without noticing. It didnât fall. April stared at it, reaching out like if she just put her fingers around it, she could find the wire or the beam of light causing the illusion. Nothing happened, even when she plucked the cigarette from the air, inspecting it closely, finding no strings or anything else that could have caused it.
âOh, shit, thanks!â Vinceâs voice broke her from her thoughts, his fingers lightly plucking the cigarette from her hand as he quickly returned, having realized heâd missed something in leaving. âGlad we didnât set the bar on fire. Câmon, though â Donnieâs back and the bus is apparently pulling in behind them.â He patted the bar, and April pushed herself to her feet, looking briefly at the space where the cigarette had been before. She shook her head, following after Vince and leaving the bar behind.
Like most things, it was better not to dwell on it.
~*~
Theyâd been shuffled off to a back room of the Union Station as soon as the bus arrived, like if they left Vyx alone in the party for more than a handful of minutes, someone would die. Vyx considered it a little overkill, of course, but something in their stomach started to sink at the way they were treated; their experiences out in Kansas hadnât exactly been public knowledge, a bunch of things best left dead and buried where they had been laid, but theyâd mentioned clarity and Wichita before and the longer Vyx thought, the more concerned they got that the topic wouldnât be something theyâd want to discuss.
Theyâd only really told Martha, back when theyâd been in Paris. Everyone else was in the dark.
The room they were brought to was an old clerkâs office, from back when the place had been a train station; most of the furniture looked period to the time, like the Prince had decided it was better to leave the vintage pieces rather than replace them, and with the rest of the decorations, it was clear that the vintage look was intentional. Old riverboat photos and the kind of shipping memorabilia one would probably find on display in a museum hung on the walls, and a library shelf of books took up one wall. If it hadnât been for the modern computer on the desk, Vyx would have assumed theyâd gone back in time.
The Prince sat behind the desk when they entered, and she didnât move as they did, nor as Ginny stepped forward, pressing Vyx to the front of the pack. The Prince, as far as the others could see, was honestly unremarkable beyond being conventionally pretty; she was blond, doe eyed, short, skinny, a heart shaped face and a hand that knew how to do the kind of eyeliner that made her look more like a celebrity than someone kind of homey and plain. But Vyx could see something in her that was sharp, dangerous, her teeth knives like a shark, her fingers almost webbed. She wasnât a Gangrel â she didnât smell like dog, and even those Gangrel that werenât dogs often smelled like dog, especially when wet, and considering she lived on a river Vyx would have expected the smell otherwise â but she was a woman who knew water like the back of her hand, possibly obsessed over it, and she was considering Vyx like she was trying to judge if the other could swim.
âI appreciate that you were willing to cooperate.â She said, considering Vyx up and down slowly for a moment before giving the party behind them a once over. It was hard to tell who it was that she saw that seemed to make her nervous â there was no way to tell if it was Flidaisâs unmoving, unwavering stare, the half-snarl on Donnieâs lips from the fact that Ginnyâs hand never left Vyxâs back, or Alâs furrowed brow and crossed arms that made her lips twist like she was expecting a fight â but she crossed her arms, turning her eyes back to the Malkavian in front of her. âNatalie Williams, Prince. I hope Ginny was able to explain the situation.â
âShe said you wanted us to be⊠clear.â Vyx repeated, giving the space a once over with their eyes. âClear as a shipâs bell, probably? Or the water on a still morning. You can pick the metaphor that suits, or sails.â They paused, indulging briefly in a snicker at their own stupid pun. The Prince didnât so much as blink, which told them that she definitely wasnât in a joking mood. âClear about what, well, that wasnât clear enough, yâknow.â They tried again, but their jovial attempt fell flat, and they deflated a little, as Natalie didnât even broach a smile.
âYou came through here, a few years ago.â Natalie started off on what was clearly the topic of the evening, leaning down under her desk and producing a safety deposit box, which she set on the table. âYou left this behind.â She paused, putting a hand on the box, and the way Vyx looked from it, to her, with something like hope told her everything she needed to know â this did, in fact, belong to them. âHowever, you also left behind two of my men torpored, and the word out of Wichita was that there was no problem and nothing happened.â She paused again, narrowing her eyes. âNow, hereâs the issue: putting two of my men down like that isnât nothing, and your new friends out West are clearly trying to be subtle to help you avoid consequences. Unfortunately for you, thatâs not good enough. I need to know what happened.â
âCanât you ask⊠uh⊠Jason, was it? I think?â Vyx asked, dropping a name no one else in the room seemed to know. It didnât inspire the confusion the Prince had expected, however; instead, she watched Donnie shift, like Vyxâs tone of light concern was enough to already have his hackles up, and she watched Al press a light hand to his arm as though to tell him wait for it. Natalie sighed, dropping her shoulders and rolling her eyes. Coteries.
âI did. He wonât speak on it. He says something happened, but that you should come with a glowing recommendation and that I shouldnât worry much about it.â She paused, giving the whole group a once over, as though to make sure they knew she was addressing them, specifically. âThe glowing recommendation got you in this room unharmed. But I run a harbor; people move in and out of my city every night, and I know every. Single. One. I know their business, length of their stay, whoâs side theyâre on, all of it. Except for you. So, fill in the blanks.â She held her hands out, and Vyx shifted from one foot to the other, glancing over their shoulder.
âDo I---do I have to do this here?â They asked, but the frown they got in return said yes, and that their discomfort at telling the coterie was, actually, part of the situation. Telling the authority about ones crimes wasnât ever meant to be a comfortable experience, after all. They rocked on their heels. âLook, like. I get it, you wanna know and I definitely am super willing to tell you, but I havenât---we havenât--- Iâve traveled, a lot, and I havenât exactly gotten around to giving all the dirty details to everyone, and I-I dunno, maybe finding this out under duress in a strange town isnât the best way to do this?â They asked, begged, just a little, nervous, turning back to the polycule like that was the real problem there â like telling Al, or Donnie, or Flidais, or April, was the actual issue and they didnât give a shit whether the Prince knew or not. But Natalie grinned in a way that said the answer was yes, here.
âWhether or not your complicated coterie survives this story isnât really my issue, unfortunately.â She shrugged, leaning back in her chair, watching Vyx carefully. âNow, details. Unless you want to have to explain that someone died out here because you wanted to be tight lipped with a Prince---â
She finished her words, but the sentence was cut off, still, as Val slammed into the wall with a sudden and unyielding force â notably, Donnieâs forearm, which he had jammed against her throat in a pin that said I dare you, his speed unmatched. He held her against the wall, turning his head slightly in Natalieâs direction as though to emphasize the point â nobody was dying in that room if he was still able to move, and theyâd have to be better than that to catch him.
âCan I actually offer some advice?â Al stepped up, hands in his pockets, shoulders easy, but Vyx could tell he was weighing the idea of checking an SMG, just to let them know he came in armed and they didnât think to stop him, the mistakes they made piling up like fresh snow on a cold road. A wreck was becoming inevitable. Natalie turned her eyes to Al, who took her severe frown as a response. âOne, I would be extremely careful who you threaten.â He paused, taking his vape out of his pocket and ripping a hit off of it, the pervasive smell of pickles invasive and off putting. Ginny made a face, and that had Al smiling â it meant she was distracted with his asshole persona and not paying attention to where his guns were. âShortstopâs been a bit pent up this whole visit, considering you ripped not only his significant other, but also the person heâs supposed to be body-guarding, away from him without warning. Manâs a loose cannon.â He paused again, watching their faces â significant other definitely had Ginnyâs face flinching, just for a second, which told him everything he needed to know about the fact that they didnât. âTwo, if youâre going to play like you know who we are, maybe donât give up on your due diligence half way.â
He stepped up, placing an arm on Vyxâs shoulders, leaning there, casual and easy, letting a hit from his vape invade Natalieâs personal space over her desk. ââCause if you did actually know us like you play that you know us, youâd know two things: one, this isnât a coterie, this is a polycule, and two, not even being dead stopped us from sticking together the first time. Unless youâre, I dunno, swinging with the power of Cain behind your hands, Iâd say you should keep them to yourself.â He raised an eyebrow, the explicit threat in his voice, and Donnie, for his part, pressed Val against the wall a little tighter. He wasnât hurting her â honestly, he was ignoring the fact that she seemed to like it, honestly â but she also wasnât able to move, which definitely pissed her off. Al turned to look at Vyx, giving their opposite shoulder a squeeze. âAnd unless you like⊠killed Cain, I wouldnât worry about chasing us away, babe. Weâve kinda done that whole thing before and personally, I like this better.â
âHa, yeah.â Vyx chuckled, turning back to Donnie. âQB, can you put her down? I donât think theyâre gonna focus if their Scourge is a piñata.â They chuckled, and Donnie shrugged, pulling back just enough to let Val off the wall â but not enough to free her, as he knew she would probably stab him if given half the chance. Vyx shrugged, because that was good enough. âThanks. And⊠look, I just⊠I donât like this story, alright? Which is why I didnât say anything the first time. I⊠I know we do a lot of weird stuff, but this isnât one Iâm proud of.â They paused, turning back to the Prince, who had an expression that was slowly realizing that sheâd played with Kindred out of her depth and hadnât noticed. âSo, context, do you know what the Madness Network  is?â
âNo. Though I am aware it is something used by Malkavians. I donât employ Malkavians.â Natalieâs tone said distaste, likely for the whole clan, which was sort of expected by then. She clearly wasnât Vyxâs biggest fan.
âSo, itâs like⊠Imagine a radio station, right?â They started, trying to form an explanation that made any sense and watching Natalieâs expression to see if it landed. âYou change a channel and suddenly thereâs a new voice talking and telling you stuff, but instead of one voice per channel all of the voices are all speaking all on the same channel and you have to really focus to make one stand out, and thereâs like hundreds and hundreds of them. If youâre a Malk, and youâre decent with the blood, accessing it is easy. Tuning in isnât hard â tuning out, however, varies. Malks who donât really use the blood much find it easier to just ignore it all.â They paused, pressing their fingers together in front of them, and Al reached down, taking their hand with his own. It was a comfort, and they appreciated it. âIâm not---Iâm weird. I think thatâs about as clear as thatâs going to get, and thatâs not âcause Iâm being cagey, thatâs âcause I donât really get how I came to be here and trying to explain something I donât get isnât easy.â
âShort form: I died. A very powerful necromancer went to grab me back and grabbed them instead.â Vince added, like he wasnât sure why people were hemming and hawing over the explanation when it really was that simple. âTook me a minute to get better, so they got the run of the limbs until I did, and since I was the man in charge until then, they basically didnât exist before that.â He shrugged. Natalie looked at him like heâd lost his fucking mind, but Vyx held up a hand to try and bring her back in.
âThe important part is that I donât⊠know my own mental voice.â Vyx said, and that was a revelation that hit the rest of the party, though not as poorly as Vyx assumed it would. Mostly, they saw more pity than anger or fear, even if theyâd just admitted they didnât know what their own thoughts sounded like. Al squeezed their hand harder. âI was out in Kansas, just taking the open road for what itâs worth, right? And I stopped in this⊠bar, I think. Dive bar, somewhere. And the voices. There were so many, and unfortunately for me, I canât⊠I canât turn the Network off. The radio station stays on, no matter where I am. When Iâve got people around me, people I know, itâs easy to ignore the voices, stay on track. But when itâs quiet, or Iâm alone, itâs⊠its all I can think.â
âWhat do you hear right now?â Ginny asked, somewhere between trying to vet Vyxâs words and curious as to the condition. They paused, furrowing their brow for just a second.
âUhhhh⊠I think someone has gotten a Budweiser frogs chorus going, âcause thatâs what I hear, but itâs definitely more than one voice.â They shrugged, and  Ginny nodded, like she understood what they meant. They tried not to let it be too off putting â it was always strange when someone understood a Malk without further context, but it was also always better not to ask. âRegardless, I was alone, out in Kansas. And I⊠I heard a voice. It was⊠it was so angry. It wanted someone to die. Then⊠the next thing I know, Iâve got a knife in the guts of someone I donât know and Iâm covered in blood.â They held their hands out, like they still remembered the exact moment, the smell of heady copper on their hands, the way they wanted to lick it from their fingers. âI remember someone⊠tried to tell me something. Words. I didnât hear them, everything was still so loud, so bright, and then I think⊠I think he touched me, or he went to touch me, or something, and I just⊠I snapped.â They looked up, something serious on their face. âIâm going to leave the rest of that unsaid, âcause Iâm not admitting to anything, but I figure you can guess.â
âAnd Jason said this was nothing?â Natalie asked, almost like she was about to race down to Wichita herself and give Jason a piece of her mind. Vyx shrugged.
âI mean, the first guy wasnât me. The second guy attempted to grab a frightened jackal twenty seconds after it made a kill â not really sure what anyone expected from that interaction besides the way it went.â They shrugged. âShitty part to me has always been the⊠the fact that they werenât my thoughts. Jason agreed. And he saw me ruin that second guy. So like, I donât know, if you have beef with how he runs his shit, take it up with him?â They shook their head, waving it off. âHonestly, maybe donât. Shadows want to hang in shadows, and the worst thing you can do is throw a bit of light on them, yâknow? And I figure you donât wanna beef with neighboring cities over stuff that didnât happen to you.â
âWhy my men, then?â Natalie asked, but something in her had softened. Maybe it was the explanation that suited her tastes. Maybe it was the fact that, even though Vyx had all but admitted to diablerizing someone out in Kansas, not a single member of their polycule looked even remotely surprised, let alone angry or perturbed at the idea. Fighting a group of Kindred who were very okay with eating other Kindred was not the play, really ever. Or maybe it was the sinking realization that she was dealing with Kindred that were above her pay-grade, and their benevolence was not guaranteed. Â
âThey tried to catch a running fox, duh. Like, I was just trying to make it out as far East as I could, as quickly as I could. I wasnât planning on stopping. But your dingdongs decided to try and play bad cop, worse cop and I didnât have time to entertain their roleplay fantasies.â Vyx shrugged. âMaybe you should tell your people to leave well enough alone sometimes. They definitely didnât take the hint.â They patted their pockets, looking for a cigarette, and found their own pockets empty; at the sudden frown on their face, not one, but two packs of cigarettes launched from two different pockets â one, a pack of American Spirits, the other a pack of Marlboros that had seen better days â followed by a flameless lighter. They caught the first two packs in a cradled arm, and the lighter in their other hand, quickly stuffing the Marlboros in their pocket and fishing out an American Spirit, lighting it.
âI feel like that should be what you wanted, though.â Al added, taking Vinceâs lighter back from Vyx and tossing it back to him; he caught it deftly, pocketing it without even looking. âYou have your explanation, you know this was definitely a one-time thing, and also definitely not your problem. Now, if thatâs it, I think thereâs a safety deposit box we need to take back to a certain bus parked outside.â Al gestured, and Natalie sighed, realizing that this really was all she was going to get. It was better than nothing, at least.
âYouâre welcome to open it here, if you would like. Iâd prefer if you didnât take the box.â She patted the metal box, which had the key taped neatly to the top. âI apologize if this meeting caused you any inconvenience. You understand why I had to know something.â She added, like that would excuse her transgressions. The deference was interesting, having heard that she was in a room full of diablerists who didnât care much what their fellow did, but Vyx wasnât taking it lightly. Any deference was good.
âYeah, I get it. Maybe next time, though, just like⊠knock? Ask?â They chuckled, stepping up to the desk as Natalie stepped back from behind it. She headed for the door, a flick of the hand summoning Ginny to her side. She paused, leveling her stare at Donnie, who carefully released Val from the hold heâd kept her in. Sheâd been on the ground, but unable to move, and it was only with Natalieâs careful nod that he let the Scourge go. Vyx turned, watching them all head out, Natalie pausing only once, as though to look upon the room one last time before the explosive devices she was leaving behind destroyed it. âNo worries, weâll keep things the way they are. I didnât put guns in this one.â They chuckled, and Natalie shook her head, leaving them alone in the room with the box.
Vyx posted up behind the desk, using the key to unlock the box as they did so. Donnie, free from his job holding the most dangerous person there against the wall, settled himself against Vyxâs side, putting his arm over their shoulder as though he was daring anyone to separate them again. They leaned into the touch, only pulling away when Al also stepped up to their other side, putting his arm around their back; they didnât mind being in between their two main partners, honestly, and it was a big comfort to feel them there after so long without them. Theyâd done well to not think about it after theyâd left, but Wichita had been a mess and it had haunted them for a long time â so now, having it forcefully brought back and used against them was a lot, and it had them trying not to sink into something strange and melancholic. They shook their head, reaching out to snap the box open, trying to dismiss the errant thoughts that the whole thing brought up.
A cheese hat, big and made of very squishy foam, all but launched from the box, hitting Flidais in the face as she stepped up to the desk. Vince, who had stepped up behind her, snickered, and the warning look she shot him said that he only got away with that because it was him and that if anyone else had dared, she would have more hands than she knew what to do with.
âWisconsin.â Vyx said, like that explained things. It, strangely, did; at least, no one asked any further questions. âThis box was sort of my collection point for a bunch of different middle America stops. It was easier to have one place right in the center that I could kinda come back to, yâknow? I donât remember where I got the cheese hat â I think there was a festival or something - but I know this is from up in the middle of nowhere,â They paused, pulling out a small piece of paper, only a little bigger than a playing card, which they pocketed before anyone could read. It looked like it had a lot of text on it, but there wasnât any way to read it before they slipped it away. âTalked to a fortune teller up in Spring Green. She was clear, that was only for me.â They chuckled, reaching back in and digging around. âAnd thereâs this shirt, which is from a restaurant in Milwaukee.â Vyx produced a t-shirt, which had two columns; one had the label of 7pm, with Mission Briefing written neatly on a bullet point line, while the other had a designation of 3:32am, labeled Missing Briefs and written poorly and not on the bullet line. It had a further label below the lines that said it came from a place called Safehouse. âIt was spy themed. I technically got this for you, Al, but you werenât really speaking to me so itâs been⊠here.â
âHonestly, Iâd say Iâm flattered,â Al said, his tone indicating a little sarcasm as he held the shirt in front of him, âBut really, you nailed it. I canât even be mad.â He chuckled, a genuine thing, reaching back around to give them a hug as a sign of thanks. âClaire might be, but thatâs not your problem or mine.â
âI hope you didnât buy this shirt for me.â Donnie said, pulling out a different shirt. It was from a place called Art of Pizza, out in Chicago, and Al hid a snort behind his new t-shirt at the sight of it. Vyx snagged the t-shirt, shaking their head with a chuckle and pressing a kiss to Donnieâs cheek as though to apologize for making him touch the thing in the first place.
âNo, I didnât. It was free. And before I met you.â They stuffed the offending t-shirt under one arm, digging through the box further. âI just wanted pizza and I figure itâs easier to judge once Iâve actually had it.â They paused, looking up to consider their newly formed opinions on Chicago style pizza like they finally had to pass judgement. âPersonally, I donât like tomato sauce enough for deep dish. But also my experience with tomatoes has been primarily Vinceâs motherâs cooking.â They gestured backwards, and Vince shrugged, lighting the end of his old cigarette and blowing the smoke towards the ceiling.
âShe would definitely be offended by Chicago pizza, but I think sheâd probably be offended by most American cooking.â He chuckled. Vyx shook their head â his mother was from Spain, and had opinions on things like tomatoes, they remembered, and definitely would have opinions on American food - pulling a third t-shirt â this time with the phrase I heart you on it, but the heart was actually a pictograph of a pterodactyl â and putting it with the pizza shirt under their arm. They also produced a pair of glittery menâs underwear, and this they held up for a moment, like they couldnât actually place where they came from, until the memory hit them and they broke into a smile.
âI didnât realize you were shopping for all of your partners while you were out here.â Flidais said, her tone an attempt at something like humor but lost in both her cold fish attitude and the fact that she hadnât stopped looking at the door â where they could tell Val still lingered, a bodyguard making sure they didnât leave with anything important - with a promise of death for making Vyx go through an emotional situation in front of her. It didnât matter if theyâd broken up, she was still deadly protective of anyone she considered a companion. Vyx snorted.
âOh no, I got this from a gay florist before I saved his orgy-camping trip from the rain. But I think thatâs a story for later.â They put the underwear with the shirts, furrowing their brow at the things still in the box. There were quite a few items left, and they were growing increasingly small and increasingly strange. âI donât know how I fit all of these things in this box.â They said, pulling out three jars; they were all labeled with a brand that was recognizably Amish, with one being pickled okra, one being pickled pigs feet, and one being pickled radishes. The radishes had been opened, if the sound of the pop-top said anything. They also pulled out a puzzle box, handmade and old and strange, setting that aside. âLike, I know I jammed the hat in there last minute and I knew it was going to launch when I put it in there, but I think maybe I found a liminal space, here.â They said, pulling out a gauntlet from a suit of armor and putting it on the desk. âThereâs so much.â
âWhere did you find armor out here?â April asked, picking the gauntlet up and examining it like it was probably the strangest thing yet. It was older, not newly made, clearly the craftsmanship of a previous century, though it wasnât tarnished or rusted or used. Vyx looked up at her like they had to sort through everything to recall where theyâd gotten the thing, holding a small Santa ornament in their hands; it was a Santa, but it was also a mermaid.
âWell, that gauntlet is from a castle in Ohio, but if you ever want a helmet, go to a Loves.â They said, gesturing with the Santa. âI donât know why, but that truck stop chain sells armor.â
âMiddle America.â Vince shrugged, again, stepping over to the table and taking the Santa from Vyxâs hands, gesturing with it. âItâs just like that. Like, I could ask if you visited around Christmas, since you have a MerSanta ornament, but I basically know you didnât, âcause Middle America just has this stuff around, right?â He asked, and they nodded, taking the Santa and wrapping it in one of the shirts. It was just small enough and just fragile enough that they didnât trust it un-protected.
âYeah, thereâs a whole fucking town named Santa Claus in Indiana, so they have a store thatâs year round. Christmas decorations, three-hundred sixty something days a year.â They set the ornament and shirt aside on the desk, pulling a magnet from the side of the metal box where it had stuck fast; it was for a place called Scoops, which seemed to serve ice-cream. They pried it off the side of the box, holding in between their thumbs like there was something reverent about it. âOh! Ha. I, uh. Well, you all just heard I got a glowing recommendation from a guy out in Kansas, right?â They asked. Al narrowed his eyes, like bringing that back up when they were alone was actually something he was waiting for.
âYou said his name was Jason?â Al asked, and they gave him a look that said donât, even as he returned the look with maybe a bit too late.
âAl, weâre not getting into this.â They said, with a sigh. âLook, his nameâs JasonLancaster.He was the Scourgewhen I was there. He⊠found me, face deep in this dude â who he said was kind of a prick, so I sort of did him a favor, I think â and he took me back to his place, got the story, and got me out. Thereâs no need to go like⊠digging into his business, okay? Heâs not a threat.â They said, and Al shrugged, taking a hit off his vape but blowing it away from the party as a whole.
âI wonât antagonize him. But I am going to check him out when we get back to a laptop. We canât just leave unknown variables hanging out, aware that youâve eaten a man, and just assume that he wonât ever use that against you.â Al replied, and Vyx rolled their eyes, giving in before it became a thing. He was right, after all â they probably did need to check Jason over, just to be sure they hadnât fucked themselves by trusting him.
âFine, fine. Just. Leave him alone, okay? He wanted to hide.â They looked back to the magnet in their hands, shaking their head. âHeâs just all shadows and he doesnât like being in the light, I could tell. Regardless, I maybe sort of snagged this from his fridge, since it looked like a good place to snag a bite if I came back through and I knew I wouldnât remember otherwise, so⊠if you do end up turning the flashlight on him, maybe donât? Mention that I stole his magnets?â They chuckled, and Al rolled his eyes at them, but in a way that said sure, babe. He wasnât going to tell Jason they stole what was, really, a beaten up, shitty magnet from a local ice-cream joint out in a state he didnât think theyâd ever visit again anyway.
âWerenât you kicked out of Seattle?â Donnie asked, taking them away from their moment regarding the magnet and back to the present. He had a business card in his hands, one heâd fished from the bottom of the box, and Vyx reached out, taking it from him. It was for someone named Deacon, listing Seattle as a point of contact for him. They sighed.
âI was.â They said, handing the card to Al, who gave it a quick once over and then pocketed it. Yet one more problem to deal with when he had a computer again. âThink Seattleâs Best Nosferatu wanted to be cute and left it for me after I crashed a party of his. Iâm not supposed to go back, but I donât think thereâs anything against us contacting him again, especially since this seems like an invitation.â Vyx shrugged, picking up the box and turning it upside down, just to be sure that nothing else was in there. It was empty, their things spread across the table. âThatâs it, though. Now we just have to get all of this stuff to the car.â They chuckled, trying to pick things up and finding the concept of carrying around jars, t-shirts, and a cheese hat difficult. Vince, helpfully, put the cheese hat on his head.
âYeah, I think we really should brie leaving.â He said. Every face in the room turned to him with the same kind of dour look Flidais normally carried, and he grinned, sheepishly. âWhat? A good cheese pun isnât going to do any parm.â He said, and he ducked an imaginary punch, which was mostly the look on Alâs face as they split the contents of the box between their hands, heading for the door. âAnd hey, theyâre only going to get feta as we go!â
âVince, I will stab you.â
âWould that mean you cut the cheese, then?â
âVince.â
âI bet you think Iâm just a munster with all of these puns.â
âAlright, thatâs it, weâre leaving him behind.â
âMaybe itâs cheddar if I just go.â
Vyx laughed, watching Al run after Vince as they made it outside, the other man holding the cheese hat to the top of his head as he raced for the bus, unwilling to lose it. Donnie chuckled as well, wrapping an arm around their shoulders as they made it to the bus. âI donât know, the fact that theyâre talking feels like a gouda thing.â He said, and that earned him an elbow to the ribs before a kiss to the face.
âDonât make me throw you off the bus, too.â They chuckled, and he laughed, and for a moment, things were good. Maybe, they thought, hauling their things onto the bus and dodging Vince as he ran off it, Al in hot pursuit with a real knife in his hands, Vince laughing hysterically as they blew past â maybe it was even a gouda thing. Â
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My brain: You have so many tight deadlines. So many things on your weekly schedule. So many important jobs. You have to get important work done!!!
My hands:


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