#childhood friends is still one of my favorite tropessss

[that-foul-legacy-lover]

you and Ajax who have been friends for years, since you were both children unaware of the world. before everything, you were both sweet, quiet children. while most others your age had a large circle of friends, you and Ajax had only each other, but that was okay, because it was all you needed in your little town of Morepesok. days were spent at one house or another, inside or out playing in the snow to your heart's content. you even had a special song; an old lullaby you learned from a ratty book in the library. before that day, the day Ajax turned 14 and went missing, your life was quiet. when you finally found your friend, he had changed. gone was the sweet little boy from before, the sparkle in his eyes replaced by a hollow dullness. he began getting into fights- and winning, no less, with a type of horrid joy painted on his face. it scared you, scared you so much, but somehow he never turned his newfound desire to fight and defeat and win towards you- it seemed more like part of the reason he fought was to protect you. in a way you both grew up too fast- Ajax in the three days he never spoke of, and you from simply staying by his side. soon his father had enough and shipped him off to the Fatui, letting you say goodbye one last time. he promised to visit with tears in his eyes, the first time you've seen him cry in years. you grew into someone much like your childhood self- quiet, but kind- only now with the knowledge of life on your shoulders, and soon you found yourself working a good job with the Fatui. a desk job, perhaps, but it was peaceful and easy and paid well, and Pantalone, the head of your department, treated his workers well enough. you knew Ajax was a Harbinger now, going by the name "Tartaglia", but he was often away from home on missions. besides, who were you to expect him to recognize you after being apart for so long? you suppose his duties kept him too busy to visit much in the end, but you never were one to hold a grudge. your stride is easy and relaxed as you make the trip to Pantalone's office, a stack of papers due for review in your hands. idly you hum that old song from your childhood as you walk, before your peaceful monotony is broken by the sound of faint, inhuman screeches behind you. at first you wonder if someone displeased one of the Lords again, but it draws nearer, along with something akin to claws scraping at the floor. shivers run up your spine as someone- or something- makes its way towards you, your heart turning to ice when whatever-it-is lets out a deep growl. it's behind you. your world falls away until it's just you and the thing looming over you, and despite every fiber of your being screaming not to you slowly turn and look up. the monster staring down at you is beautifully terrifying- or terrifyingly beautiful- with its crimson mask and glimmering wings that seem to hold the cosmos in them. a final note from the lullaby you were humming escapes your throat, and the creature tilts its head, listening intently as you stand frozen, the papers in your hands crinkling under the force of your grip. the beast takes another look at you, and the light in its singular oceanic eye brightens as it kneels to your height. you stumble backwards, nearly falling, but are quickly caught by hands much larger than yours and tipped with razor-sharp talons. with movements much more delicate than you'd expect, you're gingerly lifted and set onto the monster's lap, the cold mask-like face now buried in the crook of your neck making you tremble from chill. purr-like noises rumble from the beast's chest, like it's trying to soothe you, as normal human footsteps approach from the same way the monster came. Il Dottore stands over you and the creature, looking down with apparent interest. his lips curl into a smirk when the beast snarls at him and tightens its grip around your body, before the Harbinger snaps his fingers and orders it to release you. the monster is unwilling at first, but something about the look Dottore gave it must've silently conveyed meaning, because suddenly it flinches and the arms curled around your waist retract. without another word Dottore shoos you back to your post, the mask on his face doing nothing to conceal the acute gleam of interest in his eyes. the next morning, you receive a note from your superiors. your position has been changed, and you're to report immediately to your new one, in Lord Dottore's lab.