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artificialqueens · 4 years

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The Scent of Your Rose Perfume (Nicky x Jaida) - Chae

A/N: I’m not dead! I’m so sorry Chapter Five of ViP has taken like a whole-ass month to update, it should be coming… soon-ish? In the meantime, I have a couple Oneshots/super short multichaps planned to take a break and fix my writers block. I am apalled that there isn’t more Jicky literature in this world, they literally act like a couple irl. When Nicky was crying about you-know-what the other day, I was inspired to write this, so blame her haha. Anyways, enjoy! (I also have an AO3 now!)

Summary:

Working at a Chanel store was supposed to be a high class gig. What Jaida Essence Hall was not expecting was the presence of a tall, blonde, drop-dead-gorgeous shady-ass-whore named Nicky Doll, who has a particular interest in being a total bitch.

aka

I was soft for Jicky and my friends helped me come up with this (hiiii 💯)

https://archiveofourown.org/works/24474904

—–

Working at Chanel was supposed to be a high class gig.

Beautiful fancy women selling you purses and shoes in a power-cleaned sparking storefront? That sounded like the perfect way to make money to Jaida, and once she walked in for the job interview, it was over; her looks alone could have made her manager of the whole store on the first day.

What Jaida Essence Hall was not expecting was the presence of a tall, blonde, drop-dead-gorgeous shady-ass-whore named Nicky Doll. She fit right in at a first glance—French accent, smooth voice, looked like a fashion model—but was severely juxtaposed by her superpower to read a bitch down for filth while taking a hit from her juul in the back. Nicky was an enigma— a glorious, sexy enigma.

And she was a total bitch.

Exhibit One:

“Good afternoon ma’am,” Jaida smiled at the customer. The woman was wandering aimlessly around the huge store. She seemed like a nice lady, not experienced with the Chanel brand but not clueless either. “How may I help you?”

“I’m actually wondering if there’s a way I can buy clothes from those mannequins?”

Jaida raised an eyebrow. She must have been really rich if she was asking about actual garments. “Yes! You can. What were you interested in?”

“The striped pants, although, I’m not sure they’d look very good on me.”

The honey blonde pursed her lips. “Don’t say that sweetie, do you want to try them on, maybe?”

The customer laughed nervously. “Mmmm, I don’t want to ruin them, you know?”

And before Jaida could tap into her motherly and caring nature, a voice rang out from behind her.

“Those pants will match perfectly to the shirt under your jacket, madame. You’re not going to find ones like those anywhere else,” Nicky carried a purse in her hand, probably on the way to help someone buy it. But, of course, she couldn’t mind her own damn business.

Jaida glared at the platinum blonde, who just smirked back at her through her cherry red Mac lipstick. And then she did the unforgivable:

“I can help you check out, cherie .”

The unsuspecting woman nodded and trotted after the French Fiend, leaving Jaida to stare holes into the back of Nicky’s perfectly ironed blazer.

Exhibit Two:

“Jaida, the sales you’ve been making are insane!” Jackie scanned the documents. “You really are a valuable member of this team, and not just because you’re the prettiest.”

A shit-eating grin smeared itself on Jaida’s face when she turned to Nicky, who just raised a perfectly arched eyebrow.

“Hear that, Nicolette? I’m the prettiest.”

“For an American.”

Jaida scoffed. “Chile, tell me that when you do better than me.”

“I am doing better, right Jackie?”

The persian manager looked up from what she was doing. “By a little, but you two are our top sellers.”

Nicky looked at the older woman coyly. God, Jaida wanted to punch the expression right off her perfect face. How could someone so disastrously beautiful be such a jackass? Jaida was constantly asking herself, Do I want to kill her, or kiss her?

Meanwhile, Nicky congratulated herself on upsetting and flustering the prettiest girl in the world, again.

Exhibit Three:

Of course Nicky was also friends with Jaida’s friends. Was the older woman expecting for the blonde to hug Heidi and Jan familiarly when they arrived at the bar? No. Did she? Yes.

“Nicky! Wow, when Jaida mentioned your name I didn’t know it was you!” Jan exclaimed when the Frenchwoman air kissed her cheeks.

“Well, there can be only one of me!” Nicky waved, turning to Jaida. “So, you do talk about me.”

“Yes, I talk about how much I hate you,” she rolled her eyes.

“She talks about how she hates you so much she wants to give you a big ol’ smooch,” Heidi teased.

Nicky’s eyes widened, looking at Jaida from across the round table knowingly, sipping her rose wine with a small smile.

“You know what, Heidi? Fuck you!” Jaida could feel her cheeks warm when she shoved her friend in the arm, taking a long swig of wine.

“No, you want to fuck Nicky, not me!”

The other girls, Jan, Jackie, and Crystal, burst out in laughter. Through her embarrassment, Jaida even thought she could see Nicky turn red, too—but of course she’d never admit or show to that. Jaida wasn’t going to admit anything either; she hated Nicky, and that was a fact.

“Jaida, take an Instagram story with me!” Nicky grinned evilly, standing up from her seat and wrapping a skinny arm around the shorter girl’s shoulders. Of course, Jaida forgot that Nicky had amassed quite an Instagram following that didn’t quite match her old-lady job, and mentioning Jaida (who too, was considered a ‘baddie’ and almost matched Nicky’s follower count—) would be good for her brand.

“Whatever you say, chile,” Jaida complied when the other woman turned her camera to themselves. Nicky pressed their heads close together and Jaida could smell her rose perfume and coconut shampoo as they made cute faces for the screen. And then, because of course she did, Nicky placed a ‘friendly kiss’ on Jaida’s cheek, garnering chuckles and ‘awws’ from their friends.

Jaida absolutely despised her.

But damn, she was hot.

——

It was just about time to close up the store, and it was Jaida’s job to check all two floors of the building and help/kick out whoever was left.

Soft music echoed through the little hallway leading to the stairs as Jaida’s heels clicked on each step. The familiar smell of rose perfume filled her nostrils when she approached the second floor, and her eyes darted around to search for a familiar shock of platinum hair.

Near a display of mannequins and a luxury couch is when Jaida spotted Nicky absentmindedly toying with the sleeve of a jacket and humming. She looked beautiful, as always, but there was something about the way her eyes were glassed over and the way she looked so deep in thought that made it impossible for Jaida to look away. Add on the fact that Nicky had such a pretty singing voice—she was a vision.

It took a few moments for the Frenchwoman’s icy blue eyes to meet Jaida’s. Pretty, perfect Jaida. The one who always got mad at Nicky in a way only someone like her would find cute. The one who always spoke her mind and knew exactly what to say and when to say it. The one who Nicky just had to do better than because her face and body were already so perfect, there was not much the blonde could do to one-up her.

Nicky smiled, and Jaida cursed internally when she felt herself get hot again.

“Nobody’s up here, right?” the dark-skinned woman took a tentative step forward, her arms crossed in front of her.

Nicky exhaled a laugh. “No, just me and you.”

“Right. Well, let’s close a few minutes early, then.”

“Mhm,” the blonde nodded, walking towards the other woman in what Jaida thought was her exiting the second floor. She was mistaken.

The taller woman walked straight at Jaida until her back was pressed on a wall, Nicky blocking a view of the marble stairs. Before Jaida could protest, Nicky traced a hand along the side of her cheek and the shorter girl was acutely aware of how she felt her perfectly long fingernail and how that feeling made her feel other things.

“What are you trying to do, Nicky?” Jaida managed to collect herself enough to ask.

“Nothing. I just like the way your face looks, mon chou .”

Jaida couldn’t help but snort and laugh. “You—you what?”

“You’re very pretty, Miss Hall,” her tone was serious, almost sultry.

“I know I am, now-” she paused when Nicky grabbed her chin. “Now, what is this?”

“What is what?” her eyebrow was raised playfully.

Well fuck. Fucking fuck. After all this time of Nicky being a bitch—a beautiful, funny, stupid-ass bitch—Jaida didn’t realize she was being that type of bitch. No, she couldn’t deny her attraction to the French girl, but she didn’t realize those feelings were reciprocated for anything else except teasing.

“Girl, I’m sick of you playing with me. I don’t know if you like girls or what, chile, just tell me.”

“I like you.”

“I like me, too. Now what?” the long haired girl straightened her posture, nearly reaching Nicky’s tall height.

Nicky scoffed, one side of her mouth curled up. “I thought you liked me.”

“Godammit Frenchie,” Jaida rolled her eyes, grabbing the short-haired woman’s wrist and dragging her next door to the dressing rooms. Each one was large, with faux-velvet couches, fresh white walls with black trim, and doors with locks that hit the actual ground. The shorter woman opened one of them, locked the aforementioned door, and gently shoved Nicky against the wall.

“I’m tired of this bullshit, Nicky. Give me everything you’ve got.”

“Merde , I’ve been waiting for you to say that,” Nicky licked her lower lip before roughly slamming her face on Jaida’s.

The first thing Jaida registered when their tongues met was how Nicky tasted like the rose perfume she always wore. The second thing was the release of tension that had built up over the two girls ever since they’d started working together, and god, that felt euphoric.

Nicky pressed their bodies even closer together, hands sifting through Jaida’s hair as she groaned into the kiss. Jaida slid her hands down the blonde’s back, further and further down until she could grope Nicky through the black fabric of her pencil skirt. She giggled in Jaida’s mouth, breaking the kiss to nibble on the shorter girl’s jawline. At that, Jaida squeezed her ass even harder, making Nicky tense up.

“That’s for making me look bad in front of Jackie.”

“Zut.”

“What’d you call me?” Jaida joked, pulling away.

“It means damn or shit, okay?!”

Jaida just kissed Nicky’s neck as a response, biting down gently on her pulse point and making her swear in French—again.

“If Jackie sees a hickey-”

Jaida bit down harder. “That one was for making me look bad in front of my customers.”

“ Jaida,” Nicky gasped.

“Can I take off this stupid uniform?” she fiddled with the buttons on the button up under Nicky’s blazer.

“Only if you do,” the blonde’s hands were at the hem of Jaida’s trousers.

And they followed up on their promises, finding themselves ass-naked on the couch with Nicky straddling Jaida, sucking on her face like she was sucking the beauty right from her mouth.

Jaida was the first to take Nicky’s breast in her hand, rolling the bud in her finger and drawing out muffled moans from the tanned beauty on her legs. She broke the kiss and placed a new one on Nicky’s other boob, swirling her tongue around her nipple in time with her hand. She looked up at Nicky, who was looking at her with the most beautiful expression she’d ever seen: eyes blown out, eyebrows curved upwards, mouth slightly open. When Jaida licked her collarbones and between her cleavage she turned her head upwards and bucked her hips into Jaida’s stomach, a murmured and closed-mouth moan escaping from her.

“Needy Nicky,” Jaida mumbled into her chest.

“What?”

“You tease me with all that, and chile, here you are begging for me?”

“Power bottom.”

Jaida laughed, leaving her breast with a pop and going back to kiss Nicky’s red-stained lips.

Her hand found itself in between Nicky’s legs, feeling the wetness surrounding her core. She gently stroked the folds of her labia, making the Frenchwoman moan quite loudly.

“Moumoune,” Nicky purred. “Go down on me.”

“Needy Nicky,” Jaida lifted the woman off of her, adjusting so that she sat between her legs and Nicky laid on the couch.

“Is that what you’re calling me now?” Nicky’s voice was breathy as Jaida kissed her inner thighs.

“If you get to call me all your weird French nicknames, I’m calling you Needy Nicky,” she bit extra close to Nicky’s core.

“Jaida, please, ” she pulled the beauty’s hair.

“Brat,” she smirked, drawing back. “Apologize for embarrassing me in front of my friends.”

“Jaida, you salope !”

“Hm,” Jaida nearly stood up before Nicky whined.

“I promise I’ll be nicer, ma cherie .”

“I’m holding you to that one,” Jaida continued her assault on Nicky’s legs. “What does salope mean, anyway?”

“Whore.”

Jaida bit skin again, Nicky yelped. “Jeez, I’m sorry! I’m sorry, mon chou .”

“I hope that means ‘darling.’”

Nicky said nothing, the only sound that could be heard was her heavy breathing as Jaida finally reached her center, licking a line up her folds.

“Fuck.”

“That wasn’t French,” Jaida mumbled, before circling her tongue around Nicky’s clit. The blonde arched her back at the touch, attempting to grip the fabric of the couch.

As Jaida flattened her tongue against Nicky’s entrance, the girl let out an uncharacteristically high-pitched sound. When she teased her hole, Nicky squealed more. It was probably the first time Jaida had heard her speechless.

The dark blonde wet a finger and gently placed it inside of Nicky, peeking up to check on her partner.

“God—Jaida, that feels-” she grunted as Jaida curled up further. “You’re so good.”

“You want more?”

“Yes.”

Jaida could have sworn the face Nicky made when she added another finger was the prettiest thing she’d ever seen—adding on the sound that escaped her lips, a sound Jaida could have probably listened to forever.

“Nicky, someone might catch us,” Jaida cooed. The French girl couldn’t choke out a response when Jaida rubbed a thumb over her clit, just another loud moan.

“But you don’t care, do you?”

She shook her head.

“If Jackie came up the stairs, you’d just keep fucking yourself on my fingers if I stopped, right?”

She nodded. For once, Jaida was in control.

The long haired woman’s mouth was back on the bundle of nerves at Nicky’s core, sucking and darting her tongue all over it. Nicky didn’t even recognize her own voice as she kept whining, knocking her head back as she felt the knot in her stomach glow unbearably tight.

Jaida could feel the girl tense around her, so she made sure to keep her steady pace when the sounds in the room turned into staccato yelps.

“Jaida-” was the last thing she whimpered before releasing on her fingers.

Just to smite her, Jaida took the opportunity to place her liquid-coated digits between Nicky’s lips, basically forcing her to lick them clean. There was something satisfying, sexy, exciting, maybe even sadistic, about watching the girl who’d relentlessly sexually frustrated her suck on her hand like a baby.

It took a few moments for the both of them to calm down, Jaida flopping on the couch right next to Nicky and resting her hands on her own chest to steady her breathing.

“So,” she finally said.

“So,” Nicky replied.

“That was good.”

“You’re telling me!” Nicky flipped on her side to face Jaida. “That was—wow.”

“Nice to know I can do something right with you.”

Nicky’s face shifted. “What do you mean?”

“Well you’re always one-upping me, bitch! Better sales, better hair, better face, stealing my customers, stealing my friends—”

“Jaida, I am so, so sorry. I didn’t…” Nicky bit her lip. “I didn’t think it would be that—that noticeable.”

“So you are a bitch on purpose! Chile, I knew it,” Jaida attempted to lighten the mood.

“Honestly, I do it all because I want to prove I’m better than you, when I know I’m not. I have to work my butt off to get all of the things you get by doing nothing, because you’re perfect.”

“Chile! Shut the whole hell up. I work just as hard, if not harder than you. You don’t know what I’ve been through. You see my perfect facade, Nicky.”

The Frenchwoman stared, then smiled. “Well. Can I get to know what’s behind your facade, Miss Jaida?”

She grinned back. “I don’t know, Ms. Doll. You’ll have to take me on a date and see.”

That evening, Jaida could still smell roses on her uniform.

#rpdr fanfiction #jaida x nicky #nicky doll #jaida essence hall #jackie cox #heidi n closet #lesbian au #smut #fluff #retail au #useless lesbians #the scent of your rose perfume #chae #concrit welcome #s12

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breebeelee · 4 years

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The Truth About Gold: The Inside Scoop on Gold, Platinum, and Palladium Jewellery

Are you sitting down? We need to talk. Remodelling jewellery There is some thing you need to recognise approximately your White Gold Jewellery:

White gold is yellow.

Not yellow like an omelette, however it's far yellow. It seems white in a jewelry store, and it charges less than platinum, however over the years white gold can also go back to its original colour. Your white gold jewelry may want to want to be deepwhite time and again, a technique as a way to make a larger dent for your financial savings than a platinum ring might.

To apprehend what's occurring, first you want to find out how gold is used in jewelry. I may also provide an explanation for the differences among "nine karat," "14 karat," and "18 karat" gold, and compare gold to different comparable metals such as Palladium, Platinum, and Silver.

PURE GOLD

Gold, evidently, is a soft malleable steel with an severe yellow colour.

Pure gold is often taken into consideration "too" yellow for most people's tastes, and its softness makes for very delicate jewellery in its natural form. Pure (24k) gold jewelry is a lot too gentle to defend a solitaire diamond, or for any piece of jewelry in an effort to be worn often.

So, for these superb reasons jewellers will mix other metals into gold, developing alloys. The metals they pick out to mix with gold create unique colours - making an allowance for a few loopy mixtures along with inexperienced, purple, and pink gold. Popular shades are rose gold, yellow gold, and white gold.

DIFFERENT TYPES OF GOLD

Yellow Gold: Gold in its natural form is yellow. Yellow gold is mixed with metals such as copper and zinc to reduce its price, increase sturdiness, and tone down its yellow coloration. White Gold: White gold is an alloy of yellow gold and at least one white metallic (frequently palladium.) Almost all white gold is plated with rhodium, which I will provide an explanation for in a chunk. There isn't any such issue as pure white gold, in view that it would be yellow. Rose Gold: There is no such element as natural rose gold both, seeing that rose gold is an alloy of gold and copper. Rose gold, purple gold, and purple gold are all crafted from varying mixtures of gold, copper, and (every now and then) small amounts of silver. The varying percentage of copper used determines the coloration of the gold. KARATS

There are different mixes with varying purities of gold used. The term "karat" is used to indicate the share of gold in an alloy. "Karat" is mentioned like "Carat" (which refers back to the weight of a diamond) but its meaning is distinct. Karat is frequently abbreviated as "kt" or "okay." Pure gold is 24 karats so 1 karat of gold is 1/24 gold, or 4.Sixteen% pure.

9k Gold: 37.Five% natural. Stamped 375. Calling 9k "gold" is like calling a hot canine "meat." It's a gold-ish funk with some gold in it. 9k isn't always recognized as gold in many nations which include the U.S. 10k Gold: 41.7% natural. Stamped 417. 10k remains much less than 50% gold, however it meets the legal karat limit to be considered "actual" gold in the United States. It is unusual in first-class jewelry and generally taken into consideration to be of bad nice. 14k Gold: fifty eight.3% natural. Stamped 583/584. 14k is the maximum famous shape of gold because it wears properly, is proof against scratches, and is extra long lasting than the higher karat values. It is incredible to be used in jewelry. 18k Gold: seventy five.0% natural. Stamped 750. 18k is the minimal gold wellknown for sale in Italy. It is yellower and greater malleable than 14k, however considered to be pinnacle best. It is also wonderful for use in jewelry. 24k Gold: 24K gold is 100% gold and is popular in Asia. However it is generally taken into consideration to be too smooth for use in earrings. RHODIUM PLATING

Many gold mixes nonetheless do no longer gain the preferred colour. For instance, a yellow tint is present in all white gold. To masks white gold's genuine shade, jewellers coat it with a lustrous white steel called Rhodium."Rhodium Plating" looks exceptional, and offers your jewelry a replicate-like end. However, considering the fact that it's far only a coating it may wear down over the years. When this occurs, your jewelry will lose its luster. If the principle steel is white gold, it'll start to seem a stupid, faded yellow.

People wear their jewelry in a different way, and there may be no manner to accurately predict how long your rhodium plating will remaining. On earrings and Necklaces it could last a very long time, due to the fact the ones pieces revel in very little physical touch with the environment. Rings and bracelets are a exclusive tale. Constant wear on a hoop can reason rhodium to rub off in as little as six months. From my experience each selling and carrying white gold jewellery, it seems that a hoop will need to be re-plated more or less as soon as every six months to two years.

Your neighborhood jeweller can rhodium plate your ring for you. The technique takes a couple of minutes if they are able to do it on-website online, or up to at least one week if they send it away. Most jewellers charge round $60 for this service (at time of writing). The charge of rhodium modifications, but, and the fee for this service will change over the years.

The gain is that on every occasion your ring is rhodium plated, it receives an entire new surface and might seem nearly like-new. Minor scuffs and scratches will disappear. The downside is, of route, the price and time required. Most people choose white gold over platinum to shop money. But while you thing inside the destiny rate of retaining white gold, platinum is frequently cheaper.

I currently study an editorial titled "Rhodium Plating; like Colouring Your Hair, Only For Jewelry!" The article advocates the usage of rhodium plating to "exchange up" your antique jewellery. This is a fun idea, however take into account that plating white rhodium over a yellow or rose gold ring is a lot like bleaching brown hair blonde. It will look exquisite at the start, but then it'll start to wear down and require maintenance. Be prepared for lots of upkeep - or undergo that awkward stage where your "roots" are showing.

OTHER METALS FOR FINE JEWELLERY

Rhodium: Rhodium is a few of the rarest and most precious treasured metals. Rhodium is proof against corrosion and it does not oxidize. It is typically used as a thin coating over White Gold, Silver, and Platinum Jewellery. Solid rhodium is not often used in rings because it's hard to work with and natural rhodium could be very expensive. Silver: Like gold, silver is extremely tender in its purest form. "Sterling Silver" is ninety two.Five% pure, so additionally it is stamped 925. Silver is regularly alloyed with copper, platinum and/or zinc. For extra information about Silver Jewellery, study my blog entry All That Glitters is Not Gold: Everything You Need to Know About Sterling Silver. Palladium: I definitely like Palladium, however most jewellers do not work with it. A giant conspiracy? No. It's just less malleable than Gold or Platinum, and calls for unique device and special education. The steel itself is distinctly cheaper, so palladium (while it is to be had) is an notable cash-saving opportunity to platinum. Palladium is light, that's a plus when used in rings, mens rings, and outsized jewellery. Like platinum, palladium is evidently white and very durable. Palladium in jewelry is frequently 95% natural, stamped 950Pd. Due to its purity, palladium it is excellent for humans with allergies to steel alloys like nickel. Platinum: Just like within the international of track, in jewellery platinum is king.Platinum is dense, robust, and long-lasting making it perfect for engagement earrings. When utilized in jewellery, platinum is typically ninety-95% natural. It is sort of continually extra expensive than white gold. Platinum is thought for its weight, which means that it is not extremely good for rings (ouch) or chunky jewelry. However the added weight is a pleasing touch in smaller portions - while you maintain a platinum ring and a 14k white gold ring side with the aid of facet, the platinum ring feels greater sizeable. Platinum's herbal color is a stupid metal white or faded gray, so it's miles sometimes covered in rhodium like white gold. But not like white gold, when the rhodium wears down your platinum jewellery will nevertheless seem colourless. Just clean and buff your platinum every so-regularly to hold its natural properly appears. Titanium: Titanium is a gray-white metallic utilized in a very pure form (ninety nine%). Titanium is less expensive, long lasting, and lightweight; it feels "feather light" in evaluation to platinum and gold. It is also a hundred% hypoallergenic. I think the maximum enduring cause for titanium's recognition is that it sounds cool. If you were a superhero, what could your ring be fabricated from? Easy solution. That said, titanium is extremely tough to paintings with. It cannot be soldered, and speedy wears down jewellers tools. So if your ring is damaged or your palms change size, anticipate having to buy an entirely new ring. Titanium is pleasant reserved for very primary jewellery consisting of mens bands. Tungsten: Tungsten Carbide is cheaper, heavy, and extremely durable. When I worked in a jewelry keep, I used to venture our customers to try to scratch our tungsten wedding bands. Some human beings spent a while scraping the jewelry on the ground or steel counter. They kept me entertained - but no person ever managed to scratch one. Tungsten comes in dark gray, light gray (referred to as "white tungsten") and black. Like titanium, tungsten can't be resized and is difficult to paintings with. For now, it is also pleasant reserved for mens bands. MIXING METALS

Mixing gold and silver together is on-trend, however ensure that any jewelry that touches is made from the identical metal. Rose Gold, White Gold, and Yellow Gold can be worn collectively as long as they're the same Karat, however 10k need to in no way be worn alongside 18k. The equal goes for carrying gold with platinum, titanium, etc.

This is specifically relevant for stacking earrings, wedding ceremony bands, engagement rings. It's additionally essential in case you're shopping for a series and a pendant one after the other.

The purpose for this is that unique metals have distinctive densities. If you put on a harder metallic and a softer metal together, over the years the softer steel can be damaged.

TO SUM UP

If you're looking to buy diamond earrings, a diamond pendant, or a diamond necklace, I would advise buying 18k or 14k gold. If you want a white metal and you're shopping an engagement ring, do not forget spending a touch more on platinum. If it is to be had, palladium is lovely, strong, and inexpensive than platinum. If you are thinking about silver, pick a simple fashion and not using a diamonds. If you're searching out a mens band, tungsten and titanium are worth looking into. Buy palladium, platinum, or gold in case you'd like a good way to resize your ring later. Make positive all jewellery that touches is made from the same metal.

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forcedapotheosis-blog · 7 years

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Solstice Ch. III

Alright, I've got a lot to say before this chapter begins, so let's get right to it.

First of all, take warning. This chapter contains graphic depictions of violence (nothing sexual / non-con, though), so if you're not into this kind of stuff, don't read this chapter and probably the rest of the story.

Second, there's again people I have to thank.

My boy Renillion (ffDotnet), who continued to support me through most of the writing of this chapter and supplied me with some nice creative input. I very much enjoy our conversations, man, hope to hear and read more about your original stuff!

Azoroadaywontkeepsanjiaway (on tumblr), who beta-read like 2/3rds or more of this chapter, thank you so much for the time you've put into it and for more that I'll mention a little later.

Onepiecefeatstuff / alaznesweeran (on tumblr and AO3) for giving me a much needed pep-talk and being a genuinely good and supportive person (who also writes fanfictions which you should read).

EastBlue (on ffDotnet), who always leaves reviews that encourage me to continue writing, even when I feel like a waste of skin. Thank you so much!

Year of the Goat for recording 'The Unspeakable', which had been a great source of inspiration for me.

Alright, coming to the third point, the one I was actively dreading. The beta-reading made me realise that this fiction started off wrong. Let me explain: When I said that I wanted to return to my roots as a writer, I meant that I wanted to write (cosmic) horror. I could've easily done that, but instead made it a fanfiction instead of an original work. So, the thing is that people who read fanfictions are rightfully anticipating a story that is driven by more or less fixed characters, no matter if it's AU or an Alternate Timeline. This is were I made my first mistake, because these kinds of stories usually don't revolve around the characters, not even the protagonists. Many mistakes followed but I'm not going to bore you with them.

Well, long story short: I'm putting Solstice on hiatus until I'm able to decide what to do with it. That might be in a week, a month or never. Sorry if you're one of the two people who actually enjoyed reading it.

Chapter III - Arisen

Sanji was quick to realise that the interior of the estate was still congruent with what he remembered. It actually seemed like nothing had changed at all.

At least, someone cleaned up nicely. He was pretty sure that his happened not to the courtesy of his siblings, but thanks to some underpayed worker. Setting foot inside the house again somewhat felt like entering another world, another time. Here and there, there was a new-ish painting to see, obviously made after he abandoned the family, or after the family abandoned him. It portrayed the tall, muscular .. and pretty ugly .. Judge Vinsmoke, towering over his three favoured kids, by the time of the painting around 14 or 15 years old. It was rather well done, to be honest, but it distorted reality in a mocking way. Even though they were the favoured kids of the Vinsmoke patriarch, they were still subject to his harsh, sometimes bordering on tyrannical, rules. I’m still surprised that I was the only one who wanted to win his freedom.

At least, Reiju was nice enough to hand him a towel to dry his hair. “Where’s Nami?”, he asked no one in particular, trying to sound as neutral as possible. “She still has my jacket.”, he added solely for him remembering that especially Yonji had, at least in the past, the rather disturbing nature to utterly destroy whatever he held dear, no matter if it was a toy, a book or even a living thing such as a pet rat. They were adults now, but he didn’t want to take chances. Especially not in that regard. “Probably in the kitchen, with Ichiji. I envy that lucky bastard, she’s a sight to behold, right? And she’s always by his side .. maybe he’s taking her on the table right now.”, and there it was again, the overwhelming wish to kick Yonji’s head in.

“Unlikely, Nami seems to prefer a professional relationship.”, Reiju intervened and Sanji felt a sliver of gratitude towards her. Despite the branding she had given him and the ominous way she talked.

The house was as big and cold and as utterly devoid of any soul as he remembered it. Long floors, laden with portraits of some ancestors he never knew made up a big part of it. These portraits weren't holding any decorative value to them, it seemed as if they hung around here because they no other place in this world would accept them. Other than that, he sure was surprised that the main source of light were actual lamps and not, as someone who might see only the outside of the estate might have thought, candles or torches.

“Hannah, Lily and Nichiji are already in the living room. I’m sure that you’re going to take a liking to them, they’re sweet girls.”, Reiju said, obviously addressing Sanji. Maybe I will, since I’m not related to them.

The living room, as nearly every other separate room in the whole estate, was large and the furniture within it was exactly the same it was twenty-ish years ago. A couch large enough to accompany up to three or four people was placed with its back towards the entrance and the same round, ornate carpet was still lying on the ground in front of it. Another couch, a smaller one, and a chair that looked rather comfortable and even regal complemented the room.

Wasn’t there a table, too, standing on the carpet?, he asked himself, not sure if his memories were accurate in that regard. Again, he contemplated that taking a step into this room came close to taking a look at his own past. Sanji could much too vividly remember Judge sitting in that exact chair, reading some old book or scolding him for being too weak. The rhythmic noises of a large grandfather clock were the only obvious sounds in the whole room. And, as Reiju had said, there were three people inside of it. One of these people he knew, even though his back was turned towards the entrance. The blue hair was a pretty distinguishing characteristic. Has he .. changed? The question didn’t pop into Sanji’s mind out of nowhere. Niji wasn’t alone on the couch. There was another person sitting next to him, crowned by beautiful and silky auburn hair. She wore it lose and it was just long enough to reach a little farther than her shoulders. It surprised him a little that his brother had his arm slung around her and she didn’t seem to mind in the least, even enjoying it as her head softly rested against his shoulder.

The third person, another woman, appeared to be sleeping on the smaller couch, leaning against the armrest of it. Is that Barbie?, was the immediate thought on seeing her. Indeed, she had hair that was even more blonde than his own and he couldn’t help himself but notice that her body had the form of an hourglass. But .. it seems just so .. exaggerated in contrast to Nami’s natural beauty .. it’s like a living caricature of an unrealistic beauty standard. He wanted to scold himself for these thoughts since he didn’t knew anything about that person, but again, he couldn’t help it.

Her sleep was light, though, and she slowly opened her eyes to be the first to greet them. But while the rest of her body was an oversubscribed caricature of beauty, her big, blue eyes managed to take it home regardless. Her smile appeared genuine and she was quick on her feet to greet them, her voice a soothing melody and not nearly as high-pitched as he had anticipated.

With more grace than Sanji had expected, she strode towards them, around the other couch, giving Yonji a wink before gracing him with her brightest smile. “Oh, it’s so exciting to finally meet the lost Vinsmoke! I’m Hannah, very pleased to finally make your acquaintance!”, she held out her hand and Sanji wasn’t really sure how to greet her. Probably better to stay neutral for now., he thought, shaking her hand and putting up a more-or-less honest smile. It didn’t really surprise him that her hands were as smooth and soft as they were, perfectly fitting the air of high class she radiated, but there still was something more underneath.

Being a first class cook, some of his senses were refined to a near superhuman level. His senses of taste and smell, needless to say, where already there, but there was another one, so easily forgotten. Not only did his hands develop a dexterity of nigh-legendary reputation, his sense of touch was equally well trained. Platinum, I’m sure about it. The metal was too smooth to be just silver, and nearly as warm as her hand was. The impressions didn't end there, as there was more to be found. Something that he only brushed with the tip of his middle finger. And that’s a diamond. Of course, he couldn’t be sure about it being a diamond and not some other gem that was embedded into the ring, but common sense somewhat dictated it to be the way to go for an engagement ring.

“The pleasure is all mine, Miss Hannah.”, another second went by and he finally let go of her hand. Despite the way she looked, he had the feeling that Hannah was a genuine and rather nice person. People always said that you weren’t supposed to judge a book by its cover, but that was a difficult task to achieve, to be sure. “I see that you’re going to be my sister, too.”, another smile he had to force, but the thought of welcoming a, for a change, nice and friendly person into the family wasn’t half bad. Her eyes widened a little and she exchanged a glance with Yonji, who was still standing behind him. “Have you told him, my love?”, to that he shook his head, answering with a slight snarl in his voice that felt like he was being apathetic to the fact “Probably saw your ring, hun.”, to which Sanji only nodded.

That was enough noise to finally wake up the last two persons within this room. The auburn-haired girl began to move rather slowly, as most people did after they woke up, and stretched her arms to the sides, letting out a suppressed yawn before turning around and slowly blinking the sleep out of her eyes. The blue-haired person sitting to her left also turned around, albeit slowly. There wasn’t any sign of exhaustion or sleepiness to find when it came to his face. Just the same old condescending look that seemed just so common within the Vinsmoke family that one might fear that it was genetically imprinted on them.

His lips twitched into a smile that lasted for about a second before it disappeared without a trace. “Looks like the most important person of the evening has arrived.”, what was that about? Sure, it was a family reunion, the first one after more than fifteen years for Sanji, but the most important person to arrive?

“Niji.”, there really wasn’t anything more to say, at least from his side. Sanji made the same observation that he made in regards with Yonji, though. Niji had just grown into an adult version of what he was as a child, even his hairstyle hadn’t changed at all, the blue hair still covering most of his right eye. Standing up, Sanji observed that he was less muscular than Yonji and more of a type that he classified as ‘lean and mean’. It took him only a couple of steps to walk around the couch, placing himself next to Hannah.

“Huh, someone changed for the better.”, he opened up, eyeing him from head to toe. “You’ve gotten a lot tougher since we’ve last seen you, brother. Not the sickly child you’ve used to be, right? I’m excited to see that.”, that drove his weirdness-meter through the roof. What kind of an introduction was that?!

“By the way, that’s my girl over there, name’s Lily.”, he just waved his hand in her general direction, not even making the effort of looking at her. She smiled rather shyly and raised her hand, breathing a soft “Hi.”, as she was still trying to rid herself of the sleepiness. “Now that you’re here, we can finally ready the dinner, hope you like .. lamb.”, again, why that pause before the last word?

And why did he exchange a glance with Yonji? Is this some kind of a stupid joke? Unconsciously, his right hand rubbed over his left forearm. The soothing effect of his wet and cold shirt had worn off and the branding actually began to hurt. Not too much, but it was a constant and rather annoying pain. Still, it was just so easily forgotten when the high, clear laughter of a familiar voice caught his attention, followed by fast steps, closing in on the living room. “I can’t believe that you’ve found an original!”, yes, it was Miss Nami’s voice. Even though they had spent not even a whole hour together, he would’ve recognised it everywhere on earth.

There she was again, only slightly changed. And to Sanji’s utter delight, she still had his jacket hanging loosely on her shoulders, but there also was something new.

Nami had her arms crossed in front of her chest, carrying some old book, as it seemed. Only the way she carried it was rather peculiar. It looked heavy enough, a large, old thing, bound in fissured, ancient brown leather, adorned with .. a freaking lock? Is that a diary or why on Earth would somebody walk the extra mile to put a shitty lock on a book?

Maybe it really was that special, judging from the surprisingly gentle way Nami pressed it against her chest, as if she was holding a newborn child. He also noted that she was wearing glasses now, not the big and unhandy kind that the hipsters that visited the restaurant he worked at sometimes wore, but slender ones with a black frame, modelled mostly for functionality. And they were fitting her face like a glove, adding only small accents while not taking away anything from a face that might as well had been sculpted by a literal god on a good day.

Unfortunately though, that was no place to be overly excited, especially not because she was followed closely by another person. The last to be present at this reunion. It would probably redundant to say that he, too, just grew up but did not change. Red hair, though of a darker tone than Nami’s, covered his right eye and he wore a confident smile on his lips.

Ichiji was neither the tallest, that dubious honour would go to Yonji, nor the most muscular of the Vinsmoke quadruplets. Though one might say that he was a perfect mix of Niji’s lankiness and Yonji’s muscular physique. His entire posture spoke volumes about him, too. With it, he radiated an air of confidence, of charisma, of cunning, all supported by his choice of clothing. Needless to say, he looked sharp and as his two brothers before him, he went with a black, custom-tailored jacket with a white shirt underneath, adorned with a tie that matched the colour of his hair.

“You’re looking good, little brother. Healthy and strong. A late-bloomer if I've ever seen one, eh? Took your body long enough to finally embrace its noble heritage.”, well, what did Sanji expect? Genuine, welcoming words? Don’t make me laugh. He had a feeling that, as with his other brothers, nothing had really changed. They were still the persons they had been fifteen years ago, only somewhat more refined in their ways.

“Thank you, I guess ..”, was the only answer that Sanji had, looking at Ichiji no longer than it was necessary and polite, but that moment passed and his gaze moved on towards Nami who was still holding that old book. When their eyes finally met, she greeted him with a warm and happy smile. “What’s that?”, he nodded into the direction of the book. “It’s a treasure, I mean, a real treasure.”, she answered, visibly trying to keep her excitement in check. Sanji raised a questioning brow and she continued.

“It’s the first issue of Friedrich Wilhelm von Junzt’s ‘Von den unaussprechlichen Kulten’! That translates into ‘Of the unspeakable cults’.”, his brow was raised even higher if that was possible. Instead of clearing things up, it confused him even more.

“Pretty sinister name. What’s it about?”, he asked, lightly leaning his head to the side. “Oh, most of it is only some occult stuff, spells and such. Not really important if you want to have my honest opinion. But still, it’s invaluable! All the citations he used, his sources for the spells, they can prove the existence of books that were mostly shrouded in myth! For example, for one spell he cites ‘Cultes des Goules’, a book that many people thought existed only in the realms of legend, but according to von Junzt, he was in possession of a version of it written in Italian. If one could track down even a quarter of these books, it would be a milestone for research! Just look at it this way, the first issue of this book was released in 1839 in Germany and took so many other books into account, how did these reach von Junzt? The researchers can finally ask new questions based on hard facts!”, even though the topic was complicated, just seeing her flaming enthusiasm about it made him smile.

Meanwhile, Hannah had closed the distance between her fiancé and herself, taking Yonji’s hands. “It’s so nice to finally meet your whole family, my love.”, she whispered, her fingers intertwining with his. But instead of returning something, he just smiled at her. Not the usual smile that you saw between lovers, but .. that Vinsmoke smile. Never extending towards the eyes and, no matter what angle you looked at it, coming off as aloof, condescending. As if it was a part of their family to have a superiority complex. “My dear, you and Lily don’t even know in how many ways you’re completing this night. It’s going to be a great Yuletide.”, he whispered.

Sanji startled a little when he felt a gentle hand on his shoulder and for a second he hoped that it was Nami’s. But she was still standing too far away from him, gently holding that book. “Dear brother, why won’t you sit down? I think it’s time to have dinner.”, that was Reiju’s smoky voice in his ear and, even though he didn’t like it, he allowed her to lead him towards the lonely char that his biological father used to sit in time and time again. It actually turned out that it was rather comfortable, so much that Sanji didn’t need to use all of his willpower to lean back, allowing himself a moment of respite, a moment to relax and collect his thoughts.

He felt Reiju’s hands on his shoulders as if she was trying to massage him and further allowed himself to calm down. Maybe, after all, things wouldn’t go down as hard as he expected. It was then that everything happened simultaneously. All began with Reiju’s soft, whispering voice in his ear.

“I’m sorry ..”, in the same moment, one of her hands left his shoulders and a split second later, he felt that something hard was being pressed against the back of his head, accompanied by a click, and his mind was quick to make the association. He had never been confronted by a gun, but over the years, countless works of fiction used this sound to portray the hammer of a weapon being put into place, only the twitching of a finger away from unloading a deadly dose of lead into a body. His eyes widened at the realisation.

At the same time, Niji, who, after greeting Sanji, had retaken his place next to Lily, leaned forward, took hold of the carpet and pulled it away, going so far as to carelessly throw it aside. Had the situation not started to feel like a nightmare as soon as he felt the gun pressed against his head, it would have by now.

Someone had drawn something on wooden ground beneath the carpet. At first glance, it just looked like a circle drawn with white chalk, but there was more to it. The circle itself was adorned with countless signs, most of them he had never seen before. Some might have been Greek letters while others had the nature of symbols, but there was no time to stare at it. A terrified cry cut through the relative silence and out of the corner of his eye, he caught a glimpse of its source.

Hannah was still standing in front of Yonji, but her posture had changed. Her shoulders were contracting and she was holding her right hand before her face, grabbing it tightly with her left. “Sorry babe, but you’re not going to need this one where you’re going.”, it would have been easier if his brother’s voice was cold and lacked emotion, but that wasn’t the case. There definitely was amusement in it and it was only then that Sanji realised that her hand was drenched in blood. And it was missing her ring finger.

A ring finger that Yonji was now holding with his left hand while his right one was grasping the hilt of a long and terribly ugly knife. He was quick to snatch the ring from her finger and threw it, the finger, into some corner of the room. That was enough to break Sanji’s shock, it didn’t matter that Reiju would shoot him, but he wouldn’t let Yonji harm the woman any more!

“YOU BASTARD!”, he shouted, jumping to his feet, filled with bitter rage. It was stopped in its tracks, courtesy of Ichiji. “Hold your tongue, you disgrace.”, by now, he was also holding a gun, but instead of aiming at him, he just put the barrel to Nami’s temple. “Your decision. Try to make a move and I’ll make her head explode into a rather annoying stain on the wall. When that’s done, you’re next.”, contrary to Yonji’s sadistic pleasure, Ichiji really lacked any kind of emotion. That was what made Sanji believe his threat.

Nami’s eyes were wide open, all colour had left her face and it was obvious that she fought against the reflexes of shivering, screaming and crying.

“I see that we’ve reached an understanding. Yonji, proceed.”, and that was all he needed to hear. The movement of his right hand was so quick that even Sanji had great difficulty following it, but the results arrived within seconds. Hannah’s crying vanished only a moment after his movement had ended and ..

Her throat opened up, blood was gushing out in waves. Within her last conscious thoughts, she might have forgotten her missing finger and tried to press both of her hands against the gaping wound, but it didn’t matter anymore, there was just no way to stop it. Not even three seconds later, both her hands where bathed in her own blood and the light began to fade from her lively blue eyes, both of which were still fixated on Yonji, carrying a mixture of shock and silent indictment. He grabbed her by the shoulders and, with a needless excess of force, nearly threw her body into the circle that was drawn on the ground. There, she was supposed to find her final place of rest.

Even Lily, obviously not sleepy anymore, was crying out in utmost terror when she witnessed all of it, her gaze was nailed on Hannah's bleeding, dying body. Surprisingly enough and in contrast to many people who were part of such a dreadful situation, she wanted to get up and help her.

Somehow, even if it just meant holding her, being next to her when she moved on the the next world. Alas, standing up alone proved to be a task much too difficult for the circumstances. Just take the shaking of her legs into account, the fear and confusion that she might have felt. And then forget all of it, as the main factor that pulled her back onto the couch was the strong and absolutely ruthless yank that Niji gave her hair, making her cry out again, a high and shrieking tone, this time stemming from pure physical pain.

“Sit down, you worthless waste of skin. Don't be so eager to die, you might not like it as much as you think.”, and even when he smiled that casual, easy Vinsmoke-smile, it was difficult to make out what he really felt. His voice wasn't nearly as sadistically aroused as Yonji's, nor was it as cold as Ichiji's. But before Sanji could think about that any longer, he had to fight down the urge to just walk over towards his brother and choke him to death.

He wouldn't have survived that, and, more importantly, neither would have Nami. She was still as white as a ghost, obviously knowing as little as he did. In that very moment, there were just so many things that he wanted to do.

He wanted to kick Yonji's head into the ground as long as necessary to leave nothing but a bloody pulp. He wanted the choke the life out of Niji. And Ichiji ..

I'm going to kill you, even if it's the last thing I'm ever going to do in my life. And when I'm done with you, everything the demons will throw at you in Hell will be nothing but relief .., his hands balled into fists, so violently that his nails, even in their cut condition, managed to tear deep into his palms. He was only barely able to control his fury and if it would have only been Reiju, aiming at the back of his head, he would've taken the chance. But with a barrel of stainless steel that was gently touching Nami's skin, things were different.

“Go ahead, Nami. Open it up. Page 351. Can't miss it.”, he heard the icy voice of his oldest brother say and Nami, clever girl that she was, complied. Better than having a bullet stuck in your brain, at least for now. She carefully opened the large book, it was already unlocked, taking only a couple of seconds to find the page she was looking for, proof that it had been read a lot.

“Ichiji .. Mr. Vinsmoke .. 'Hohelied der Wiedererweckung'? A chant of resurrection? You've killed poor Hannah for some stupid spell?!”, that woman .. gods, she definitely had some guts. Even when staring down the barrel of a .45, she still had the backbone to call him out on his madness.

Ichiji let out a deep sigh and cocked the gun, not even looking at her. There was no anger in his voice, just a slight hint of annoyance. “Look Nami, I know what these words mean. Though unfortunately, as of yet I’m not able to correctly pronounce all of them, that’d cost me a teensy bit of time to learn. Actually more time than we currently have at our disposal. Now, would that be a huge problem? No, certainly not, but we will then have to wait for another year. If that's what you want, for all I care, go for it. Close the book. But you might want to keep in mind that I'll paint the walls with your blood, throw in a little mash of what will be the pathetic rest of your brain and top it off with some tiny little splinters of bone. After that, I'm going to personally cut your carcass into pieces, feed it to the crows and come back after three days to burn the rest of it. If that's what you want, fine with me. Just close the book and consider it done.”, even the slightest hint of annoyance was gone at the end of his speech, leaving him just as cold and bland as his usual persona was.

Nami's eyes widened again and her rush of anger was extinguished. “I'll be counting to three. It's your call. One. Two.”, Ichiji didn't care for a dramatic pause between the numbers, it seemed like he just wanted to get over with it. Maybe that was the reason that Nami finally cried out. If he was spitting out empty threats, he would have taken his time. Just for the effect of it. In the same moment, Sanji wasn't able to hold back any longer and jumped to his feet, hell-bent on killing Ichiji.

He had run out of luck. Within a split second, he felt Reiju's tight grip on his shoulder, and if that would have been all of it, he might have even been able to power through. That thinking didn't take the gun in her hand into account, though, a fact that he learned to regret only a second later as his sister pistol-whipped the back of his head, easily sending him to his knees. The impact had a nauseating effect on him, indeed strong enough to make him vomit what little he had eaten that day all over the floor.

“Oh Reiju, be careful of not breaking our little brother. He might be a pathetic piece of subhuman waste, but we need him in one piece to finally be of use to the family.”, Niji playfully scolded her. His vision had become blurry, courtesy of the heavy impact against his head and the tears, equal parts the result of helplessness and vomiting, that were forcing their way out of his eyes. There it was again, cold steel pressed against the back of his head. There was no chance to escape.

“I’LL DO IT!”, Nami’s shouting seemed to be distant, just like everything else. The lines of this world were still blurry and it took him a substantial amount of willpower just to cease the puking.

“A wise decision. Go ahead, do it as long as there’s some life left within her body.”, Nami’s hands were visibly shaking when she supported the heavy book on her left forearm, using the fingers of her right hand to follow the written lines.

“Am .. am I supposed to just read it out aloud?”, her tension was perfectly understandable, as was the occasional cracking of her voice, though she handled the pressure of a gun being pointed at her head surprisingly well, let alone having to watch the poor Hannah bleeding out, who continued to mutter incomprehensible words that only exploded in waves of blood, pouring out of her mouth and the gaping wound that had torn the skin of her throat apart.

“Yes, Nami. Just speak the words and remember that you’re calling out to regain the soul of the man once known as Garuda. Now, proceed.”, again, it was Ichiji’s voice that answered her question.

She took another moment to steel herself for the task at hand, forcing her breath to go calmly. When she finally began, Nami proved her mettle once again: Her voice didn’t crack but was strong and steadfast, the shivering of her body had stopped and she had regained a solid composure. Regarding the words she spoke, it was a different beast. Sanji heard them but couldn’t understand a word, since they were German.

It all began with the invocation of the Gate and the Key.

“Erhöre mich, o König des unendlichen Raumes

Erhöre mich, jener, der an allen Orten weilt

Erhöre mich, o Kenner des Tores und des Schlüssels

Erhöre mich, jener, der du selbst Tor und Schlüssel bist

Erhöre mich, o von den Zeiten Unberührter

Erhöre mich, jener, der die Zeiten selbst berührt

O Yog-Sothoth, Herr des Tores und des Schlüssels

O Yog-Sothoth, Stammvater der Zeiten und des Raumes

O Yog-Sothoth, deine Diener rufen dich!“ (author’s note: For an English translation, take a look at the postface)

For a moment that seemed to be dragging on for an eternity, nothing of note was happening. At least it was nothing that Sanji was able to perceive, as that what had been put into play already started working when Nami chanted the invocation’s first line. The perception, even the understanding of a mere person didn’t matter where some powers reigned supreme. By now, all pieces were set into place and the real extravaganza began.

Everyone present, even his emotionally starved siblings, startled when something hammered against one of the windows, a frenzied clackclackclack, followed by the bird’s cawing that, even though the windows were closed, could still be heard inside of the room. It didn’t help, there was nothing it could have done to prevent the following events.

First, the supposedly Greek letters and symbols written onto the circle of chalk experienced a transformation. What had once been white and still and dead changed into something that was neither one nor the other, a plethora of colours began to supersede the plain chalk and tinged it into something that couldn’t be described with mere words alone. It was flowing, just as Hannah’s blood was, moving as if it had a mind of its own, touching the circle and becoming one with it. As strange as it sounds, the symbols appeared to be dancing around the innermost circle, possibilities were thrown out as if they were worthless, reality bent under the supreme rule of the powers invoked. It didn’t stop there. Sanji was looking around, more confused than ever before, and experienced it first hand.

The room itself was changing to make it more accommodating for who- or whatever had been called. Angles bent in impossible directions, the ground beneath his hands, seconds ago solid and cold wood, was heating up, developing a pulse of its own. His head started to hurt, as did his eyes. Not from the aftermath of the whipping he had received, but because of the sensory overload that followed all these things that shouldn’t, couldn’t be.

The living, colourful symbols were still engaged in a feverish, forced and mindless dance around the innermost circle, the once solid wood seemed to be living, breathing, having emotions that none of its kind should have. Somehow, he was able to identify these emotions. As long as the skin of the palms of his hands was touching the ground, all he felt was uncontrollable, frantic hatred, radiating from the very ground billions of people used to walk on, to live on, to die on.

He wanted to close his eyes, lest he wanted to preserve his sanity. But Hannah’s coughing and Nami’s terrified cry forced him to keep them open for just a few more seconds. His sight was blurred, but still, his eyes tried to focus on the poor girl that might have only had a few seconds left to live, the grip of her hands pressing against the gaping wound had grown weak by now and her spilled blood became the birthing ground for what seemed to be .. bubbles. One might have thought that it was boiling, but that would have only been half the truth.

The bubbles were not only inflating, bursting. No, they were giving birth. Birth to a thousand little arms and cramped hands, crippled, flayed and burnt. Reaching to the sky, to every living thing on this plane of existence, hoping for mercy, for help or just the swift gift of death that should never come. The first part of the ritual was completed, the might of Gate and Key, apparently going by the name of ‘Yog-Sothoth’, was completely invoked.

Poor Hannah already was too far gone to have any word on that matter, maybe her heart was still beating, maybe it wasn’t. Thousands of arms, stretching out towards her, using her blood as a gateway, didn’t make the distinction. The body was still warm, the flame of life not fully extinguished. It was enough for their primitive cravings.

Whilst the very laws of nature were aching and bending under the pressure of the forces summoned, it was a laughter, entirely devoid of emotion, that finally caught Sanji’s attention. It was Ichiji. The only person in the entire room, at least as it seemed, to remain unshaken and perfectly comfortable with these changes.

“Good, Nami, very good. The troupe is ready and the stage is set for the grand finale.”, but even though he was still pointing the gun at her head, his eyes were captivated by the ever-changing symbols on and within the circle.

“O Yog-Sothoth, erhöre das Flehen deiner Getreuen

O Yog-Sothoth, gestatte diesen Tausch

O Yog-Sothoth, gewähre uns deinen Dienern jene unendliche Gnade

O Yog-Sothoth, nimm hin Saft und Seele dieser Frau

O Yog-Sothoth, und gestatte jenem, der den Namen Garuda trägt, die Rückkehr auf diese Ebene des Seins!”

One might say that it had been increasingly hard to focus once the chanting had begun, but it amounted to nothing when compared with all that shouldn’t happen and still manifested itself in these realms. Another wave of nausea crushed over Sanji’s head, and only a part of it might still have belonged to the aftermath of the pistol-whipping. Things occurred that should not, should never be, but little did they care about the laws that humanity used to trust.

A large pool of blood gathered in front of Hannah, still spewing out bursting bubbles that gave way for the countless flayed and crippled hands that reached towards what, only a few minutes ago, had been the room’s ceiling. After witnessing everything that had transpired, it shouldn’t have surprised him that the ceiling had resonated with the powers invoked as well, bending in headache-inducing ways, not only towards the sky, towards the ground but within itself, beating like a heart, growing and shrinking again, feasting on its own parts while simultaneously giving birth to more. Sanji succeeded in forcing himself to look away, as his head felt like it was going to explode from witnessing these impossible things.

It was only by sheer luck (or rather, calamity), that he caught a glimpse of what was happening within the circle. Hannah’s blood was boiling, but not laden with bursting bubbles anymore. That didn’t change the fact that it seemed to have developed a mind of its own, forming a perfect circle on the ground in an environment that so dramatically had abandoned every geometric form that a human might perceive as ‘perfect’, or even normal.

A portal between this world and the realms of the dead had finally been established and it didn’t take long for the call to reach who, or what, it was looking for within these unspeakable depths.

It was a maimed hand that marked the beginning of the ascension, manifesting itself within her blood. Flayed, crippled and with only a few chunks of flesh still clinging onto charred bone, it was larger than everything that had sprouted from the bubbles, roughly the size of a human’s hand. In an astounding show of force, it tore reality apart and subdued the laws of physics, ripping the veil that separated the afterlife from our realm to pieces.

The initially steady pace was beginning to accelerate, and soon the hand was followed by an arm with equally charred bones, adorned with massive chunks of maggot-ridden flesh. Another arm followed and finally, when Sanji caught a glimpse of who it was that those arms belonged too, he had to bow his head again, giving way to the rising bile within his throat, spitting it all over his hands.

Name them what you will: Lunatics, maniacs, occultists, madmen, sorcerers.

It didn’t matter. The soul of a person who had consumed so much forbidden knowledge within his life might have been considered fragile within the terms of psychiatrically sophisticated minds, but these exact minds were still bound to human perception and interpretation. None of it mattered here. Contrasting all the poor, sodding souls that had tried to escape the realm from beyond the veil, with their little arms bursting out of bubbles of blood, this particular one was roughly the size of a tall human being, the wide shoulders being a testament to that. With maggot-ridden chunks of flesh and muscle, according to all the laws of this world, it shouldn’t have been able to move, specifically not with the strength it was showing whilst tearing apart the portal to accommodate its size. His size.

It wasn’t so much the barely recognisable face that forced Sanji to vomit again, even though for every other person, it might as well have been. Only one of its eyes was still being held in the socket, meanwhile his other one had become a nest of some sort for things that might have been centipedes. Centipedes that seemed familiar enough with their home that one of them left the socket, only to make its way into the nose of this horrifically disfigured abomination, just to reappear right out of his his mouth. The sheer sight of something so otherworldly, while still being familiar, took a toll on Sanji’s sanity, in the worst way imaginable.

Within seconds, he was vividly reliving the worst of memories. This man, or whatever it was, was responsible for turning his childhood into a nightmare. Sanji had felt nothing when the authorities had informed him that he passed away.

He was back again, even though in a nigh-unrecognisable form. More dead than alive, fuelled by hatred, insanity and the knowledge of forbidden lore. The one thing that stood out in this form was the animalistic mane that had been his hair for all his life. It was unchanged, the same colour as Sanji’s, dancing to the impossible tune of an unseen current.

Finally, this wretched spectre, this misbegotten wraith of decades past began to make its move. Malformed hands reached out towards the dying Hannah, aimed at the hands that covered the gashing wound at her throat. The spectre didn’t try to remove her hands, the ethereal form didn’t even as much as touch her skin. Instead, his hands went right through her, giving away that the seemingly solid form was nothing but an illusion, the pitiful remains of a man who had sold his soul to unspeakable and innumerable devils and demons time and time again. Yet, he had risen to power, or was at least able to keep the remnants of his spirit mostly together, even within the realm of suffering. A shining beacon that lesser spirits clung to in hope of deliverance.

All they received was more pain, like parasites they clung to his foul flesh, still unable to leave their torment behind. Many lost their grip on the soul of his father, screaming out in anguish as they fell back into the endless abyss, others burned away as the wings of Icarus did, clinging too heavily to the sorceror’s soul that must have seemed like the sun itself within the lands of the lost.

Sanji wanted to force himself to look away, unconsciously sure that his mind would be torn to pieces of he continued to watch, yet he was unable to take control. Sickness and bile arose again when the wretched spectre’s arms followed his hands, sinking into Hannah’s cut throat. As impossible as it did seem, it still happened. The rest of his father’s ethereal body was following, taking residency within the small frame of the dying woman.

Endless seconds later, the work was done. The bleeding had subsided, as did the sobbing and her silent crying. No silent indictment remained within her face, no despair.

Actually, nothing of Hannah remained within what had been her face, he recognised when she turned it towards Sanji, staring at him with eyes that weren’t hers. Nothing of the blue remained, not the liveliness, the warmth that her face emitted.

Because these eyes did no longer belong to her.

These were the eyes of a dead man. Or, at least, of a man who should have been dead. They belonged to none other than Judge Vinsmoke.

Garuda.

“Welcome back, father.”, was the last thing he heard before he fainted. The first time since he arrived, there was a trace of emotion within Ichiji’s voice. It was pride.

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