#fr people who reblog my stuff with fun little comments? i appreciate you even if I dont say so

[wackpedion]

@sobredunia I so love your reblogs and I appreciate your contributions, so I doodled this for you teehee

[kaz3313]

Hell is in the Ink Machine

Chapter 3 and not close to being done (this story was originally going to be 5 chapters lol)

@a-rae-of-sunshine thank you for all the support you've given to me and for inspiring to create this!

Also I added a few Ocs that I just meant them to be a one time use kind but I might actually expand on them (and make versions of them out of this AU!)

As always TW violence/gore

(PS I live for reblogs and comments and tags and you can just key smash and it will warm my heart. So thanks to all those that have done any of those things or all of them I appreciate it)

Screaming is never a good sign especially in accordance with Henry’s new violent tendencies.

Wally closes his eyes hearing the screech. He’d made it to a vent and was planning on leaving the place through it. Henry made no attempt to join him, just aimlessly walked away, and for once Wally felt he’d be able to escape.

But that scream...it sounds a lot like Miss. Campbell...how could he leave her if she is in trouble? Wally is the only one Henry wouldn’t attack outright he should stay with him to keep him in line.

 Though why should he? He’s barely twenty-three and he shouldn’t have to babysit a man who in an instant could kill.

The moral dilemma sits in his mind like a stomach full of food poisoning. Susie is one of the nicest people he knew; the two would gossip, eat, and even go shopping together (Both Shawn and Sammy poked fun at him for it. Wearing clothes he knew he could never afford was always fun to him it felt like an adult game of dress up).  When she was new to being a voice actress at the studio Wally would always encourage her. The two even did funny voices together to pass the time on slow days (though Wally half the time only exaggerated his voice). He left Tom and Alison without a second thought and even if neither were hurt he wouldn’t make the same mistake twice. Wally sighs but his mind is already made up.

 Sammy’s vision still is sinking in darkness when he manages to crawl to his office. His body yells in protest as he forces himself to his knees scrambling in one of his drawers. He pulls out an extra pair of pants and shirt he saves in case of an ink leak. Instead of a usual new stain of ink on the old clothes splotches of red show on the grey fabric. His fingers tremble as he attempts to tie both articles to his chest.

The loss of blood finally makes a bigger impact as the world wobbles but Sammy tries to counter it with rhythmic breathing and sheer will. Luckily he’s stubborn enough to stay conscious as he scoots his way to the office phone. He dials the police department’s number but nothing-not even dial tone- answers his call. Suddenly he realizes the lines dead and drops the phone emitting a small whimpering noise. Out of all the days-

His half broken thoughts are interrupted by the scream echoing through the studio. The voice seems so familiar but Sammy can’t place it. Not that he needs to he sends silent empathy to whatever poor soul is caught in line with the axe and the man behind it.

He swallows again not knowing what to do. He assumes either everyone in the art department is dead or unaffected; Henry doesn’t seem to have any in betweens. If there is alive people he could do his best to explain but...well the dead have to use Not only that but Sammy isn’t too sure how long he'll last with the pain he’s forced to endure. Stairs seem unpleasant and time consuming at the moment.

Now he can always travel downward but the chance of encountering Henry again was high. Then again it would be a better chance to find alive people then the animation department.

The exit is in the animation department though he could escape, collapse in the road, and someone may be a kind Samaritan to bring him to the hospital. If he leaves though the studio will be,without warning or mercy, in the hands of Henry.

He closes his eyes to better consideration unknowingly he’d fall under the ever present threat of a restless sleep.

 Shawn hears the scream as clear as day and as much as he’d love to run to be hero he fears he’s too late. Last he knew Susie was I an unsuspecting storage room with shelves to block the door but based on the scream and a gut feeling Shawn guesses she didn’t stay there long.

 He stares at his desk knowing the selfishness of grabbing his stuff in case he needed to leave quickly rather than looking and helping people out beforehand. He reasons with himself that he can’t help anyone if he’s dead as well as reasons that if he has no money he might as well be dead.

A familiar whistle fills his ears as his head pokes up seeing the wandering man in the department. Shawn recognizes him instantly.

Henry; Head to toe he’s covered in dried blood and from lack of apparent wounds Shawn guesses it it’s not his own. He whistles the theme of the cartoon and Shawn remembers he’s the whistler for the theme. That fact does little for him at the moment of the approaching murderer. He quickly shoves himself beneath his desk searching for anything that could be of use to defend himself. All he can find is a sewing needle that he holds like one would hold a pocket knife.

Henry walks slowly and begins to mess with the machines that fill the room. He stuffs then takes out plushies with a mad sort of daze in his eyes. Henry flips switches on and flips them off before turning to the time clock. He repeatedly punches in a time card while muttering phrases under his breath. Although these actions could just seem a little odd Shawn is terrified.

After a few minutes of Henry doing virtually nothing he walks over to Shawn’s desk the Irish man still under. Henry stands staring at Shawn but makes no move toward him. Almost like he can’t see. Shawn breathes out; whatever is in this man’s vision it definitely wasn’t him.

“Don’t even notice me, do ya? You’re in ya own world, ain’t ya? Well at least I’m not there,” Shawn states and Henry tilts his head to the side. “Can ya here me? Do you know where the noise coming fr-“ Shawn feels a pit develop in his stomach as Henry raises his hand. His father always told him not keeping his mouth shut would kill him; Shawn never thought much about the warning.

Henry places a hand on the other’s head and waits. Minutes pass and Shawn feels sweat form on his face. Something more had to happen right? The man is just waiting to kill him? Is he just drawing it out.

Nothing.

Henry leaves; Shawn realizes his opportunity missed but can’t seem to blame himself. There's something otherworldly about the animator. Something that terrifies Shawn even more than anything else.

Screaming and running is a very stereotypical thing for ladies to do but for once Susie decides that it’s not the time to be a groundbreaking women. No, all Susie wants to do is scream and run and cry into Sammy and be held and-

 With all her heart she just wants to be saved and out of this hell. Quickly she finds a large room and barricades herself in breathing heavily. The room she noticies has another glass window and it looks about the same as the last one; why is everything down here so confusing?She sinks to the floor holding her legs to her chest and burying her head in her knees.

“Woah, Boris don’t scare me like that,” Wally jumps just hearing the older man’s voice. He manages a smile out of noticing the twisted irony. He would love to know why he’s always referred to as Boris but hey as long as “You found a weapon buddy?” Henry plucks the pipe Wally has out of his hands.

“That- it’s not yours Henry,” but he just swings it around no desire to give the new item up. “Please, you been calling me buddy and everything. I’ll keep it safe for you,” Even with asking nothing happens and Henry ventures on. Not wanting to leave him too his own devices Wally follows along.

 Henry feels sick to his stomach as he grips the pipe tighter in his hand. The world around him a blend of cartoons and reality. His mind is muddled with memories but a sinking feeling in his chest told him something is off. Something off with the studio closing down, with him leaving, and the ink machine. He couldn’t get his timeline straight but he presses forward hoping an answer would provide itself at the end of his adventure.

His adventure full of ink and horrors no one should live through. At least Boris has joined him; otherwise it would be a rather lonely road.

“Where are you?” These question drifted to his head a few times previously. He was in the hellish Joey Drew Studio in the toy department.

“What are you doing?” Obviously trying to get out; too bad all the falling just lead to his spiral downward.

“Why are you attacking?” The ink creatures were attacking him! He has to defend himself.

“Why have you let your mind succumb to the Ink Machine?” This thought leaves him in a curious wonder. It’s an odd scary thought but something in him resonates with him...but not for long.

They encountered a room full of dead Borises; how horrific.

Wally is forced to see the horrific beginning of the massacre. As soon as he walks in the room full of people he knows bad things are to come. None of them suspected a thing. Wally tries to shout out, a desperate attempt to give them any warning but it was too late. Henry is already coming toward them so without a word Wally swiftly leaves.

Screaming, crying, begging, chaos that Wally decides he won’t experience  experience again. Even if his own mind berates that he’s a coward, at least he’s going to live. A guilty conscious is better than no concious.

Daisy Patch has worked, in the toy department, at Joey Drew Studios for a little over month. It isn’t bad job to say the least nice people, paid enough to provide for herself, and all she has to do is make dolls sometimes even getting the benefit of taking one home when Shawn botches the smiles on them. Her own small smile creeps on her lips thinking of the Irish man. She already knew he wouldn’t be interested in her, well he wasn’t interested in any gal, but a girl could dream. Dream she did and keep all the dolls he gave to her. Daisy always reminded herself that he gave the plushies to everyone, not everyone but anyone who was halfway decent, but the thrill of getting a gift from a crush always gave her the blushes. Or when he greeted her, or when he asked for her to bring some message to another. or when she much delivered his love letters written in Irish to Wally; she read them like they were her own but who wouldn’t?

 Speaking of Wally she just saw him dart out of the room when- her eyes widen as she notices the man covered in blood in the doorway. Her coworker,Stephan, stands up about to say something to the man but he strikes him with a pipe. Stephan shouts and the rest of the toymakers begin to panic. Daisy can’t bring herself to leave her seat and watches the mass of bodies run around like chicken with their heads cut off. Blood man is meticulously striking them down with his blunt tool.

Worker after worker falls; he beats them to unconsciousness and hits them a few more times, whether good measure or insanity Daisy isn't sure. Blood fell to the floor and many people along with it.

Stephan, who's closest to her, lays on the floor unmoving. Blood runs down his face and is matted in his blond hair. Daisy scoots from her chair to the floor beside him.

"Stephan?" She gently pulls at her friend's clothes but he doesn't stirr. He won't stir will he?

Daisy stares at the dead man pondering morality and wondering why she hadn't screamed from this morbid sight. Why she fails to cry; instead she sifts her fingers through his hair not noticing that all her other coworkers have fallen. She doesn't even notice the murderer right behind her. Not until with the pipe connects with the back of her head.

[xaz-fr]

First - Previous - Next

Set in a fantasy world of the semi socialist society Fey Alliance with magic, dick head dragon riders, benevolent necromancer, and even bigger dick head gods of mischief. The Zealous Servant is the story about a guy named Spayar who, basically, has to keep his crown prince of a bff from being murdered by his entire family by murdering them first. Honestly though Spayar just wants to take a nap and find a cute boy to kiss and not have to worry about his corpse potentially being dragged through the street after a war. Better win that shit then.

I will only ping this particular list once and if you want to be pinged for future posts a like or reblog will get you on the next pinglist. Reblogs (especially with a dumb comment but not required) are way more appreciated as it allows other people to see the work.

@colorfulcollectordragon-2f8ee55c @crsedore @deadpool-scar-bro @golden-lionsnake @i-do-stuff-sometimes-notreally @barkingjester @journey-taken-fr  @lynxstorm27 @starry-ampelope

You get to meet Tassa in this chapter. She’s uh, the best. The only person more of a Judgmental Gay than Spayar is Tassa. 

3. City by the Sea

There was a messenger at the door. They were dressed in the pale blue of the messenger's guild, their tunic proudly bearing the golden insignia in the top left of his chest. It was gods’ balls early and Spayar had heard their light knocking through the window even up a story. His room wasn’t even above the door, Calli’s was, but Calli didn’t wake up for anything. So there was Spayar in barely his night clothes, half awake, at the door and this damn messenger was so chipper and awake. Spayar didn’t know them, but he hated them. “I have a message for Spayar Hillsman junior," they said.

"That's me," he said tiredly and rubbed the side of his face. Why was he alive this early? It hadn’t been fun while serving time and it wasn’t fun now.

"Royal message for you," and they reached into their satchel and pulled out a roll of paper.

Spayar groaned, “Why Von?” he grumbled. The messenger didn't move to go, "You want something?" he asked once he’d taken it.

"Tip?" he asked hopefully.

Spayar almost didn’t give him a tip, for waking him so early. But he wasn’t that much of a dick, this poor guy was just trying to make a living. "Just a tick,” he said.

"Sure," they grinned and Spayar went and found a bronze atrin that he handed to the messenger who smiled brightly, thanked Spayar for his time and left.

Spayar didn't open the message until he was back in his room and laying in bed again. He was going to look at it then go back to sleep. He rubbed his eyes and unrolled the message.

'Spayar, we're going to Peonia. Be at the Westerlance outside the Mire by the eighth bell. No belly aching. I'll buy you a pretty boy when we get there. V'

“Densinn’s tongue…” Spayar got out of bed to look out the window to the big clock tower, the Taldradin, in the Bellringer district that most of the city used to tell their time. It was half past the seventh bell. "Damn that man!" he yelled and rapidly got dressed, splashing his face with some cold water and started to rapidly get everything together, running back and forth from the bathroom and trying not to be too loud.

"Spayar, everything all right?" his mother poked her head out of her room from down the hall as Spayar left his own, fully dressed, his saddle bags already packed and over his shoulder.

"The prince is going to Peonia and dragging me along. I'll be back in a few weeks I'm sure," he didn't sound happy about it. Relora frowned, she'd been expecting more than a week with her son. But when a crown prince was your best friend you did what he said.

"Have fun," she said as he came even with her bedroom door just next to the stairs.

“I’ll try,” he groaned and went down the stairs. He walked across the house to the front door and left through the side yard to where his horse was waiting for him. She didn’t look happy to see him when he opened the stable door and started to put her tack on.

“I know. I know, girl,” he said patting her neck, she just gave a snort and shook her head a bit. “It’s Von okay? Blame him,” and she snorted as if to say, yes, of course she would blame Von for this. He finished saddling her quickly and he started down the street on her back he looked at the Taldradin. As he did the bells started to ring across the city, the eighth bell. He cursed under his breath the entire way down river after kicking her into a swift canter. He didn’t even have a chance to really take in the Mire and the destruction that had befallen it by the spring and early summer flooding.

Von was waiting for him on the road which was starting to get busy leaning forward on his horse, a big, long haired, roan stallion. "There you are, what took you?" Von asked once he saw Spayar.

"Well maybe if you weren't so stupid as to give me half a bell of notice I would have gotten here sooner," Spayar snapped, still in a rotten mood from getting woken up so  early. Normally he'd hold himself back from snapping at Von in public but he was tired and pissed.

Von didn't even seem to notice, or care really, "When I say the eighth bell, I mean the eighth bell, Spayar. Not half past it."

He just groaned in frustration, "Whatever, your royal pain in my ass. Are we going to Peonia or not?"

That brightened Von's mood considerably, "Yes, we are. Lets go, before my keepers realize I'm gone."

"Does anyone know you're leaving?"

"Nope," Von grinned deviously.

Spayar sighed and nudged his horse to follow Von as they turned down the Westerlance that led out of Assarus. There were four cardinal roads in the Alliance that came out of the norther capital like the spokes on a wheel. The Westerlance ran all the way from Assarus to the coast of the Shard, also called the gut, in a nearly straight line. Only the Southernlance was at all crooked and snaked it’s way down the Meltong from Assarus to Surassa and down to the Kas’ca.  Spayar had never properly divined why it went all the way down to the Kas’ca but road building wasn’t really a thing taught in school or by any of his tutors. It would take them four days by the road to reach Peonia nestled against the coast.

"What are we going to do in Peonia?"

"It's just a detour," Von said, "I want to buy something there and then we're going north to Nedrag."

Spayar blinked and prodded his mare up to keep pace with Von's stallion. You didn't just go to Nedrag. For starters there wasn't anything in Nedrag. It was a tiny city set between some cliffs and had no real political or economic importance. It was a city that existed and did some trade with other ports on both sides of the sea but exported little. Nedrag was a city you didn't visit for fun or a holiday either because there was nothing there, it was a fishing city, industrial.

Well, there was one reason you went to Nedrag. Next to the city, separated by only a single wall, was the Rose Garden, an area surrounded by a black wall and buffered against cliffs. The Rose Garden was home to the Rosalia, the governing family of Nedalia, and almost more importantly than that it was the one place on Priman'osta you could go to receive proper training to become a necromancer, a priestess of the death god, Lemp.

Meaning they weren’t going to Nedrag at all.

"You're going to see the new High Priestess?" few had yet to approach her. She was older than them by almost ten years but her mother had just died less than four months ago. He knew because four months ago the priestesses who served in the Arm with him had returned to the Garden for the funeral. The Garden had been mostly sealed since then, or so the priestesses said. But you didn't say no to a crown prince when he came to visit. At least Von hoped so.

"Indeed I am," Von said chipperly. "I heard her daughter's naming day is coming up. I also want to give my personal congratulations and empathy for her mother's passing," he had a pensive look on his face for a moment. "It isn't easy to lose a parent. Right?" he looked at Spayar for agreement. The fact that Von even asked would have been odd coming from anyone else. But because it was Von, he didn’t think twice that of course Von wouldn’t care if his parents died. He was plotting to kill them.

"It isn't," Spayar said. "It isn't a social visit though is it?"

"Oh gods no," Spayar said as they entered one of the main avenues and could put their horses into a quick trot. "Like I would go to the Garden for fun," he made a face, "That's why we're going to Peonia first," he smiled and Spayar just sighed and dropped back to create a single file with the stallion. Sometimes being the best friend of a prince was more trouble than it was truly worth.

—

Compared to their real destination Peonia was an epicenter. The largest and most important port along the coast of the Shard it was one of the most powerful cities in the entire Alliance.

Trade from all across Priman'osta flowed freely through Peonia, even from the Federation. The city was decadence given form and in the wealthy districts, closest to the Keep, everything seemed gilt or rimmed in jewels. In the main avenues of the Golden Peony district, the roads were made of gleaming white stone and the shops were all clean, the bouncers that stood outside nearly every one of them were well dressed and groomed. The traffic moved in an orderly fashion in Peonia unlike in even Assarus where things could get jumbled. Here the police enforced strict traffic rules, especially in the Golden Peony. There were so many people in Peonia, from so many different countries or cities that allowing everyone to do it the way they wanted would have just resulted in chaos.

"You see one you like yet?" Spayar asked Von as they led their horses down the avenue, staying with the flow of traffic. They were looking for a place to spend a few nights before continuing north to Nedrag.

"It isn't dark out, so I can't tell," Von said and Spayar groaned. Along with being an important trade hub on the Shard Peonia was also known as the pleasure city where you could satisfy any vice and just about any sin. Most of the most popular places in Peonia were the brothels, all of them filled with beautiful men and women. It was said the province of Aldash bred even their low commoners beautiful, that there was something in the air that made the people here pretty. Spayar was sure that wasn’t true but he’d yet to meet an ugly Aldashi. Maybe they were just hidden away.

"Von, we're here for an inn, not a bang,” he reminded the prince.

"Same thing," Von flapped his hand at Spayar, "and besides I said I'd buy you a pretty boy. So don't look so glum."

Spayar rolled his eyes, "I am quite capable of finding someone myself," he said.

"I know but I'll pay for it."

"Von you idi-

"Oh, that place," Von pointed to probably the most expensive inn in the Golden Peony. It was a four story building made of soft, pale, wood and creamy stucco walls. The roof was pitched steep and the overhang extended further down than was needed, which kept with the style of Peonia. Large flower baskets hung from the ends of the eaves and the doorman was dressed immaculately with a sapphire leopard lying by his side boredly. They'd paid a wizard to enchant a sign to glow even in the daylight, the large letters announcing it as the Swan Song Inn and Brothel.

Oh, lovely.

"You just had to pick the most famous one in the city didn't you?" Spayar sighed.

The Swan Song was said to have been the first brothel in Peonia, or at least where the Peony family had come from. You couldn't get a clear story about how the Peony had risen to power, the only thing all the stories agreed on was that the first Lady Peony had led an open rebellion against the old King Gerrin with an army of whores and bodyguards during the mid thirteenth century. Gerrin had been killed and she'd installed herself in his place. This was before the country of Aldash had become part of the Alliance in the early sixteen hundreds. But like most small nations here in the south they'd been happy to submit to the Asuras when they came knocking. It was that or fight and end up consumed anyway, or worse, burned to the ground like old Ballentine. Peony had become a major house after they’d bent at knee.

"It's the Swan Song, Spayar, of course we're going to stay there," Von said and they cut across the road to the brothel. A holster came to get their horses. "You get us a room, I'll see to the horses."

"And try to keep your hands to yourself, at least until we get situated," Spayar sighed as Von went with the holster to stable their horses. Spayar walked up to the door, the leopard growled at him a little but the doorman opened the door for him with a nod. Inside the Swan Song was like what it would look like inside a jewel. A grand staircase led up to the second floor where you could rent rooms or flesh and on the first floor was a place to sit, eat, or smoke with couches where women and men lounged, some fully dressed, some half naked.

Spayar ignored them and walked up to the second floor and the reception desk, "Hello sir," the man behind the desk was probably the ugliest man in the building but was still attractive. His skin was dark, common amid those who lived along the gut, the subtropical coast of the eastern Shard, and he wore many golden earrings on his ears and two on either side of his bottom lip. "Have you seen our girls-

"Not here for girls," Spayar said.

"Oh, well we have-

Spayar just sighed, cutting him off. "I just need two rooms. We’re here for the inn, not the entertainment I’m afraid,” Spayar said, "they should have a connecting door.”

"Oh, I see," he looked down at his ledger book.

"I want the best rooms you have."

The man looked him up and down, "Are you sure, sir? Or best rooms are very expensive."

"Yes," because of course Spayar looked like he couldn't afford them, dressed as he was in his riding gear and covered in dirt.

The man sucked one of the rings on his bottom lip, "Of course," he said and made a note in his ledger. He turned around to a wall full of small cubby holes for the keys and picked out two. As he did someone came up behind them, Spayar turned to find Von, with a porter holding their bags. "Can I help you, sir?" the pierced man asked.

"I'm with him," Von pointed at Spayar, "Get our rooms?"

"Yes, I got the rooms," Spayar said.

"They're going to the royal suits," the pierced man told the porter and handed him the keys.

"Why are you so boiled?” Von said as they followed the porter up the stairs to their rooms.

"Because you picked the Swan Song to stay while we're here."

"It's a nice place," Von said.

"I'm going to have to force you away from this place. Don't forget what we're doing here."

Von waved him away, "Don't you worry Spayar, I know well why we're here."

"Then act like it," Spayar scowled at him.

"Here you are, sirs," the porter said, they were on the third floor. He unlocked the doors for them and put their bags down inside each of the rooms. Von put a silver atrin into his hand as a tip and the porter left.

Von closed his door and followed Spayar into his, "Would you just try to relax a little?" he asked.

"I'm sorry I have trouble relaxing when we're on a trip to plan treason," Spayar hissed at him. "Don't forget that's what this is Von; this is treason."

Von frowned at him, "I know what it is Spayar. But I have to," Spayar looked away from him, because he was right. Von had four siblings older than him, and three younger. His mother had given her children plenty of reasons to be wary of in the form of their siblings. It spurred Von to do everything he did, including this plot to overthrow his mother before his older siblings did. If he didn't do it before them he'd die. Von didn't want to die. Spayar didn't want him to die either. They both knew he needed to do this since only an idiot didn't see how much his two eldest siblings craved his mother's throne. Especially now that Teldin was around, making a mess of things by imposing his presence on everyone and making his younger siblings nervous. Von almost didn't even want to be Asuras; he just didn't want to die.

"If you get the Rosalia you'll have a powerful ally," Spayar said and sat in one of the chairs in the room. He wanted to wash and change his clothes but he wouldn't while Von was here.

"It's a calculated risk. I could gain her favor-

"Or piss her off while she's mourning the loss of her mother."

“I know,” Von frowned. "I also want to try for the Drake, maybe.”

"Drake and Rosalia at the same time? You are certainly ambitious," Spayar said, "what would offer Lord Jollen to work with not just you, but the Rosalia?"

"I don't know yet."

Spayar drummed his fingers on the arm of the chair, "Well, you better figure it out."

"Can we try to enjoy ourselves while we're here at least?" Von asked and brushed his fingers across the top of Spayar's had. Spayar shivered and did his best to not let it show. Von smiled at him a bit as Spayar looked up at him, still moody.

Finally he sighed, "Okay."

"Excellent, now excuse me I need to wash. I saw there was a new show playing at the theater down the street. I’m sure someone would be happy to accompany me,” and he made for the door. "You find someone you like too-

"Bye Von!" Spayar yelled after him and Von laughed as he darted out of the door to his own room. Spayar groaned and rubbed his head. He was a masochist, it was the only explanation for why it was he did what he did and why he continued to torment himself. Maybe he should find someone to enjoy while he was here, some blond white boy with blue eyes would probably help. At the very least it’d be a start.

—

The streets of the Golden Peony were rather crowded as it got later. Spayar, Von, and a whore he’d bought from the Swan Song were on their way to a well known theater to watch one of the new plays showing. "So me and my friend are going to a party," Von was telling the pretty thing hanging off his arm as the three of them walked down the sidewalk.

"Really?" she asked, "Do I get to come?" she batted her eyes at him.

"I'm afraid not. I don't think your company would be welcome.”

"Nonsense, I make any party better," she claimed.

"It's for a three year old's naming day," Von said.

"Oh," she made a slight face and Spayar laughed.

"I don't think they're mother would appreciate me bringing you along," Von apologized. "But, perhaps you can help.”

"Anything," she said sweetly, holding onto Von’s arm with both hands.

"I have no idea what to get a little girl for her naming day," and the whore laughed. "Would you be able to help me with that?"

"I think I can do that, my lord," she said and leaned over, kissing him on the cheek. Von, if anything, looked sort of awkward and blushed, looking away. Spayar just frowned but resisted the urge to pull her off him. Von could do what he wanted.

"You didn’t find anything interesting Spayar?" Von asked him.

"Von," Spayar said, "I know you mean well, but really knock it off," he gave his friend a look.

"Is something wrong?" she asked, Spayar couldn't remember her name, it was Jasmine, or Camellia, or Lily or some flower name like the Aldashi liked to give themselves.

"My friend is being a stick in the mud," Von said as they arrived at the theater and got in line. Normally Von would just announce himself as a Le'Acard and not only would they be seen in that moment but they'd also get the best seats in the house. But Von didn't want others, especially Aklin, to know he was here. So they waited in line. "Can't seem to enjoy himself in Peonia."

"Oh my, that's terrible," she said, "Well I have some friends who might be able to help him with that," and Spayar just gave her an unamused look. It’s take more than a whore to make him flustered.

"See Spayar," Von grinned at him.

"I doubt it," Spayar said.

"Is that a challenge?" she asked him as they moved up in the short line.

"Spayar has a very acquired taste," Von said, "he isn't so keen on the fairer sex."

Her eyes changed instantly, she almost seemed disappointed, "The best looking ones always do," she sighed.

Von paused, looked between them and then said to Spayar, "I think she just called me ugly."

Spayar laughed, "I think she did," he agreed.

"Ah, no, never," she was quick to assure Von. "It's just we don't get many of his kind around here. Dirinnans aren't the most common sort even in Peonia and I know all manner of girls who'd love to get their hands on his dark skin," and this time Spayar wasn't the only one who flushed. The tips of Von's pointed ears turned pink. "I think I could find someone you'd like though," she promised with a sweet grin.

"I think that would be an excellent idea Mari," Von said. Of course; Marigold, how had Spayar forgotten that? Right, because he didn’t care. They they were at the kiosk, "Three balcony tickets," Von said and pulled out his purse. It was five and a half silver which Von handed over without looking and was given their tickets. "Should we get something to eat while we watch the play?" he asked Mari.

"Yes," Mari said.

"Spayar," he handed Spayar his purse, which was actually rather light, he'd left most of his money back at the Swan Song, "go get us something. And try to have a good time," he winked at him and led Mari to an usher who looked at their tickets and led them away. Spayar frowned after them a moment before going to find a concession.

One day he was going to be rewarded for all this errand running and mess cleaning. It seemed like the moment he'd met Von he'd become the man's keeper. When his tutor couldn't find Von for lessons they'd go find Spayar and even if Spayar didn't know where he was he was expected to locate the prince. He'd been picking up after Von for nearly ten years, sure he also helped make the mess most of the time but that didn't mean he always enjoyed the aftermath of it. One day he wouldn't serve a prince, but the Asuras and his advisors would be the one cleaning up Von's messes, that or Von wouldn't make so many damn messes.

A pretty girl took his order at the counter, they'd bring their food once it was ready, straight to their balcony. It was a service only offered to those who had one you had to prove with your ticket. He was paying when he felt someone looking at him. He paid he looked to find who was watching him.

He stared in complete confusion. What in the world? He stepped out of line and rubbed the middle of his forehead to clear his third eye because he was sure he was seeing things. But the woman was still there and she seemed just as surprised to see him. He went over to her.

“Tassa?” he asked, unable to believe she was here. Peonia was the last place he’d ever expect to see Tassa.

“Oh, my gods,” Tassa said, her eyes wide, “I didn’t think it was you,” and she hugged him. He hugged her back tightly. He hadn’t seen Tassa since he’d gone to serve time. Spayar had only a handful of ‘old’ friends, but she was by far the one he’d had the longest. They’d both gone to the same public magic school as children in Uptown. There Spayar, completely by accident, had made friends with the daughter Peony court representative during a mandatory magic class all gifted children had to take, so they didn’t end up blowing themselves or someone else up by accident. She wasn’t much of a court flower though and preferred to act like she wasn’t even related to a governing family at all. “It feels like forever,” she said, still hugging him.

“Yeah,” Spayar said and they parted. Tassa was, to be described in a single word; magnificent. She was probably the most beautiful woman Spayar knew, if only because he’d never seen more fools trip over themselves to win her favor with large eyes, elegant eyebrows, full, pouting mouth, small nose, wide hips, narrow waist and perfectly proportioned like Anceion had taken special attention to her vessel. Her long black hair was done up in ringlets and several expensive hair clips made of jewels and gold held it back out her perfectly shaped face accented delicatly with a golden lip ring on her lower lip. Her dress was extravagant and form fitting, leaving not a single curve to the imagination, and was a scathing blue color that matched her eyes and was almost hard to look at.

“What are you doing here?” she asked, still holding his arm.

“I’m here with Vondugard, we’re just… Visiting,” he said.

“I see,” she said, not believing him for even a moment.

“And what are you doing here?” Spayar asked. Tassa was a Peony, but not part of the main noble house. He knew Tassa hated Peonia and preferred Assarus where here father had raised her.

She sighed laboriously, “I’m visiting my cousin,” she admitted quietly. “He asked me to come to the opening of his new play he produced a month ago and well, I did. I’ve been here ever since.”

“You sound thrilled,” Spayar said dryly.

“He’s so incredibly boring Spayar,” she complained. “I think he’s trying to get me to marry his son,” she rolled her eyes. “He’s a Tann,” she said like that explained everything. To an Aldashi like Tassa is did as their familial hierarchy was strict. Tassa’s father was an Ito, third rank, Tann was sixth rank, the bottom of the familial pyramid. It meant Tassa and her cousin were removed from each other by blood at least three times. Not ideal but legal either way.

Spayar winced in sympathy, “Is his son at least bangable?” he asked.

“Not even,” she groused, “he hasn’t even served his time. He’s a boy. Oh, there they are,” and she forced a smile and waved over Spayar’s shoulder. Spayar turned around and saw an older man standing with a young man, waiting for her. The older man waved back. Spayar grimaced, her cousin seemed far too large for his clothes and his son hadn’t yet grown into his strangely large nose. Neither of them were ugly exactly but he could see why Tassa was upset. “Save me,” she said desperately, grabbing his arm tightly.

“I don’t know what you expect me to do about it?”

“Can’t I watch the play with you?” she asked, grabbing onto the front of his shirt. “Please?” she gave him her cutest pout.

“I thought we’ve been over this that I’m not at all impressed by your girlish charms,” he said dully.

“Don’t be annoying, Spay,” she said.

“Alright, you can see it with me,” he said, she smiled at him. “What about your cousin?”

“What about him?” she asked and he was about to clarify when she put her hand over his mouth and stage kissed him. A long stage kiss. He groaned in annoyance but at the very least played along, putting his arm around her waist. Then she let him go and ignored his annoyed look. “Just show me to your seats,” she said, putting her hand on his arm and lifting up the long train of her dress so the delicate fabric didn’t drag along the carpet.

“Won’t your cousin be mad?” he asked as he started to walk away.

“I’ve been here a month, he knows my patience is wearing thin. As it is I’ve already brought men home with me a few nights, and some of them came with the help of some coin. Hopefully now he’ll send me home.”

“One can only hope,” Spayar said dryly. “But was that necessary?”

“I wanted him to see I’m interested in men and not little boys,” she leaned against him a bit, “You’re the best man I know.” And he frowned a bit. That should have made him feel good about himself, but it didn’t in the slightest. It just made him feel like a jerk honestly.

They found an usher who directed them to the balcony their tickets were for. When they tried to send Tassa away she just told him who she was and he not only apologized, he bowed and said he hoped she enjoyed the play.

They climbed the stairs to the top floor and their conversation stopped when they saw someone crouched, eye against a door he realized was the balcony Von and Marigold were in. They wore the clothes of a middle class Aldashi, and didn’t look like they belonged and had no piercings on their ears other than a single one and a lip ring.

Spayar went over to them ad grabbed them by the back of the neck, making them stand. The man yelped in surprise and still holding their neck made them look at him, "What do you think you're doing?" Spayar asked with a mean smile.

"Uh..." Spayar recognized them. Not personally perhaps, but he knew who this man was.

He shook them roughly. "You tell the spymaster His Highness Vondugard is enjoying a trip uninterrupted to Peonia. If I find any of his men skulking around him while we're here I'll take their tongues like Anceion and have them kicked out of Peonia. You can tell him Hillsman told you. He’ll know I’m good for it,” he sneered. He probably wouldn’t but they didn’t need to know that. Tongue cutting was such an annoying practice, every interrogator and torturer said so. It made who they worked on useless. Especially if they were Fed or from some other country since unlike in the Alliance they didn’t tend to make sure everyone was educated enough to know how to read or write anything they weren’t supposed to.

“Y-Yes my lord!” they cried, terrified. Spayar tossed the man towards the stairs. They scrambled to their feet and nearly ran down the stairs. He saw Tassa make a subtle hand motion and whisper the words of a spell. They both heard the man lose his footing half way down the stairs and cry out as he crashed down the rest of the flight.

“That wasn’t necessary,” he told her.

“Spies and thieves don’t really get along well,” was her only excuse. “Vondugard and his flower are in there?”

Spayar just nodded and opened the door, he was surprised something more wasn’t happening with the way Marigold had been holding onto Von like he was a golden leopard. But they were just talking. From the slump of Marigold’s shoulders she looked bored and that made Spayar smile a bit. Spayar closed the door loudly and Von turned around in his seat. "There you are," Von said. Then his eyes drifted over to Tassa and they widened slightly. “Tassa,” he said, mouth open a bit.

“Your Highness,” she said and bowed, but she did it in the same way that Spayar did it where she did it to annoy him. But coming from Tassa it was far more elegant and less sarcastic.

"Food will be along in a bit," Spayar said and sat down on Von's other side.

“Who are you?” Marigold asked, practically glaring at Tassa. Spayar didn’t blame her for feeling threatened. Next to Tassa Marigold looked like a girl done up in woman’s makeup, applied too thick to hide the fact that she might not have been as pretty underneath.

“Tassa Ito-Hau-Peony, flower,” Tassa said with all the regality of her status and elegantly sat on Spayar’s other side, pulling the skirt of her dress up just so. Marigold positively wilted. “It’s such a pleasure to see you again Vondugard,” and it was like Marigold wasn’t even there. Von could only look at Tassa. Sometimes Spayar really did have to wonder about the allure women had on straight men. He never acted like this around handsome men. At least he was pretty sure he didn’t.

“Indeed,” Von said and swallowed, closing his mouth but still staring openly.

“Oh, the play’s starting,” Marigold said, drawing Von’s attention away from Tassa’s perfection towards the stage below. Spayar leaned over the banister to look down before leaning back again as the first few actors came out. Spayar wasn’t really watching. He was thinking about Aklin’s man. If he was here that was bad for all of them. Aklin and thus the Asuras would know Von was here within the day, if not a few bells depending if how quickly that spy could get to a post office and if it was even still open.

Intermission happened and the food was finally brought. They got up from their chairs at the front of the balcony to eat at a small table at the back of it. As they ate Spayar leaned over to Von to speak softly, "One of Aklin's men was outside your room.”

"They were? Damn," Von muttered.

"I handled it. But it'd be a good idea if we left tonight, or early tomorrow."

Von frowned, "We just got here," he whined.

"Yes. But my threat won't outweigh Aklin's orders to keep an eye on you for very long. This one was clumsy, the next one won't be."

Von sighed, "You're right-

"As usual."

"Only some of the time," Von said. "We'll leave tomorrow. I want to at least have some time here."

"Okay," he let Von go back to his meal, "we can always come back," he added, his voice level normal now, "after the party."

"Ah! An excellent idea Spayar," Von said, "Seems you can have some fun."

"Everything all right my lord?" Marigold asked Von.

"Nothing you need to worry your pretty head over," Von said and patted her thigh. Spayar just sighed softly.

They finished their dinner and watched the rest of the play, Spayar paying a bit more attention to it than before but was lost anyway because he’d zoned out during the first half. He could tell it was about some Aldashi legend involving a man with a bird’s head and something that looked like a strider but wasn’t fighting over the love of a woman. Or something, he was lost. He was just glad when it was finally over.

The four of them got up and left the balcony room, as they did Tassa put herself between Marigold and Von, putting her hand through Von’s arm. Spayar tried really hard not to laugh since Marigold immediately soured and Von looked beside himself.

“So what are we doing now?” Tassa asked when they left the theater. It was dark out and the street was lined and lit by alchemic lamp poles at regular intervals down either side of the sidewalk.

“We were going to buy a gift for a little girl’s naming day,” Spayar said.

“Oh, that sounds fun,” Tassa said.

“You weren’t invited whore,” Mari said in the same way regular Feylon did and not the way usual Aldashi would use the word. It was the only Aldrese word Spayar knew because Tassa had gotten fed up one day while listening to people from Assarus talk about prostitutes. He’d gotten the entire etymology lesson about the Aldashi word whore, which basically just meant an entertainer, some who did perform sexual acts, some who didn’t.

Tassa turned to Marigold, a placating smile on her face. It was similar to the one Spayar had seen on Sinco’s face as he told the Puke Brigade that no, the food was perfectly fine for consumption and couldn’t possibly be tainted. In possibly the most polite tone Spayar had ever heard Tassa speak she said something to the other woman. All in Aldrese and over Spayar’s head. Marigold got very pale and then flushed brightly in humiliation. Spayar cocked his head when Marigold stormed off.

“Tassa, I paid for that,” Von complained.

“From where, the street?” Tassa asked snidely, “slut,” okay Spayar also knew that Aldrese word too. Tassa also got mad at feylon who used that word incorrectly too.

“She works at the Swan Song,” Von huffed.

“The Swan Song is a tourist trap, your Highness,” she said, “the people there are third rate at best. Now, what was this about a gift for a little girl?” and she expertly guided Von away from the theater and the conversation of his bad taste in women, Spayar following after.

“We’re going north to Nedrag for the new High Priestess’ daughter’s naming day,” Spayar supplied.

“How old is she?” Tassa asked Von. Spayar couldn’t see Von’s confused face, but he could guess.

“She’s two,” Spayar supplied, “It’s her first daughter,” he added.

“Hmmm, I think… there’s a nice little shop just down the street. They’re mostly imports from across the Sea, but affordable, and carry jewelry and little this and such. Perfect for a little girl.”

“Then lead the way,” Von said, motioning to her. Tassa led them to a large store front, and within every surface was covered in something to be sold. Glass jars, scarves, gloves, Joti incense by the stick, rings, bracelets, and necklaces all hung from walls and off stands. It all looked to be incredibly high quality and each piece of jewelry was unique and had its own peg on the wall. In the shop front, behind glass, was a piercer, sitting on a stool boredly reading a book with pages that were well cat eared at the corners.

“I don’t want anything too gaudy,” Von said, still just following Tassa, not knowing at all what to get a little girl.

“Of course not,” Tassa cooed. “Maybe a hair comb from Anokai?” she asked and they stopped in front of an array of combs that you were supposed to leave in the hair as decoration as well as use it as a comb. “One with wide teeth,” she pointed at one with a bird on it. “Though the Nedalian love their deer,” and she pointed to another one of a deer curled up in the grass.

“Hmmm,” Von unhooked his arm from Tassa and started to really look at them hard.

Spayar went to stand up next to Tassa, “What’s your game?” he asked.

“None really,” she said, “that slut he bought just bothered me. I thought you’d have better judgement of who you let close to your prince,” and Von wasn’t paying attention to them at all. He was talking with the store clerk about what sort of comb would be best for the kinky sort of hair Nedalians had.

“And?”

“Let me come? If I say I’m going to a Governor’s daughter’s naming day it’ll be a good enough excuse to get out of here without being rude. You know my father is always telling me to be less of that,” Tassa said.

“Yes,” Spayar said, “and your father, wonderful man that he is, has the backbone of a squished grape,” and that made Tassa giggle just a bit. He’d met Kenna, nice man, very quiet and unassuming. Didn’t have a confidant bone in his body either.

“Please, Spay?” she asked sweetly.

He sighed, “I’ll ask. I don’t know if you can come.”

“Excellent,” and she kissed his cheek.

He grimaced and made a gross sound that made Von turn around and look at them, “Everything all right?” Von asked.

“Tassa’s just getting her girl germs all over me,” Spayar said making a grossed out face that made Von laugh a little. Tassa did not.