#once i figure out who to cast as the herald and figure out what i'm doing with the evil kid role it's over for y'all

[andie-cake]

fun fact, i've been calling the hatchetfield ybc au "the blue shit chronicles" in my head, bc my first idea for this au had paul in patrick's place instead of kale, and it was a story revolving around the starry children trying to use him to recreate the apotheosis. i much prefer kale in the role (it just Makes More Sense with the story of ybc, plus with paul as patrick i had no idea who was gonna take the rest of the band's roles), but i still think "the blue shit chronicles" is funny.

[mollysunder]

Another Clue in Viktor's Tarot Card?

I think I figured something out. In an older post I talked about how Arcane used tarot symbology to possibly hint at future developments for season 2. It was specifically how Viktor and Jinx fit into the role of the Magician and Death tarots respectively and how it works for Sevika. There was one thing that was bugging the hell out of me when i finished it. What was the symbol within the Machine Herald's grasp?

At first I thought it was the mathematical symbol for fish (∝), without the curves, like how Ekko' infinity symbol are sharp triangles instead of round loops. I thought it could mean Viktor needed to recognize the balance and proprtions necessary to unlock the Arcane and be an indirect reference to how similar but different Ekko and Viktor are. But I think the answer might be simpler.

It's an 'X', sideways. Obviously, the 'X' could refer to the x-factor the Magician needs to unlock the Hexcore's power. And that's the fun trick of it because there's only been one person I know in League that's been explicitly associated with this kind of 'X', it's Jinx.

When Jinx's character debuted in League of Legends, instead of releasing a bio first, they had her 'vandalize' Vi's page with graffiti (really fun marketing move). The end of the page had a signature tag that said "X WUZ HERE" because they didn't want to reveal her name so they used this special "X" instead. Later, the tag was just replaced with "JINX WAS HERE.". I thought it was a one-time thing, but no, Jinx's special 'X' still remains in the game to refer to her presence. For example, one of Caitlyn's gag interactions has her shooting her rifle that's been tampered with by Jinx. And when it happens Caitlyn goes, "Ready, aim... (gasps) Urgh! Why am I not surprised?". Who else could it be?

So this symbol is still associated with Jinx, specifically as a substitution for her name, and it's in the Machine Herald's grasp. I don't think this is meant to hint at any future control Viktor would have over Jinx, nor would he want to. It could mean that he will need a partner in Jinx to help him complete the Hexcore once he and Jayce have their falling out and he's cast out from Piltover (some real Silco and Singed vibes honestly). But maybe it's another hint at how similar their actions will be perceived by us, the audience, like they fly under the same banner of void-touched outcasts playing offense and defense against Piltover. And more so that they will have a deeply impact full relationship with one another. Look at Ekko and Vi, they both bare her tag and you can't pretend she hasn't left her mark on them and their motivations. It's just odd that for Viktor, her tag is in a different position. Maybe it's a past, present, future thing.

I wouldn't bring this up if the creators of Arcane hadn't said that there were plenty of hints at season 2 that the audience hasn't picked up yet, so maybe this is another one. Also, I have noticed that Jinx sometimes has Ekko's infinity symbol on her marketing but it's still solidly an Ekko thing. Even when she has it on her Flame Chomper grenades it's used explicitly to frame Ekko and the Firelights for her damage because it's so well associated with him.

Update: I don't know why I'm just remembering this, but Jinx is also just wearing a big X on her shirt. In fact she's covered in X's, her shirt, her necklacklace choker thing, her shoelaces, her belt, her bandage, the back of her shoe they all have X's in her design.

Update 2: I found more X's! They're all over her background in the 'Enemy' music video. The art really isn't being subtle when you notice.

Update 3: Pretty sure this is the last one... maybe. After rewatching I noticed Vi's prison uniform actually has the symbol as a part of her ID number. Altogether her ID would be X516. Though whenever Vi was referred to as prisoner 516. Alone it actually says her name in Roman numerals, 5=V, 1=I, and 6=VI (a but redundant). If we treat it the 'X' as Jinx's name it makes Jinx and Vi before Vi even knows Powder has grown into Jinx, already intertwining their identities.

Update 4: I really thought I was done, but I wasn't. I found that both of Ekko's loc rings (which look similar to the bullet shells Jinx uses in her braids) have partial infinities that look similar to her symbol. Ekko specifically is represented with a complete hourglass, and this is literally the one exception. The fact that this symbol is visible when he talks about Zaun and Silco makes me feel ridiculous. If this is a subtle hint at the way Jinx affects Ekko... wow. Jinx isn't even dead, but she's practically haunting all these characters.

Seriously, it's a purposeful choice to do this, his game icon has full hour glasses. But in Arcane they're not, they're drawn to be similar to Jinx's symbol. Just like with Viktor and Vi, it means internally, not even consciously, he's seeking her out for her.

[elisaphoenix13-cullrian]

Barely Breathing (BSA) (Ch.2)

A week passed…then two…and then a month later, Dorian found himself pulled away from Haven to run around the Hinterlands with still no visit from the commander. He supposed it was to be expected. He even had to admit to himself that maybe he had read the man wrong. Maybe his offer hadn't been genuine after all and it was all just some elaborate test that he didn't understand. Southerners did have savage tendencies didn't they? Their templars were a perfect example. Forget the fact that they forcefully ripped magic from mages to apprehend them…they actually consumed lyrium. That was not something to be consumed by a non-mage.

Dorian could only imagine what it was doing to their bodies. He had already heard the tragic stories of southern templars losing themselves because the lyrium had taken its toll on their minds and bodies. How long until the Commander fell with the rest of them?

But then he paused. That evening…now he thought back on it, the Commander hadn't smelled like lyrium. At least not like the templars he had come across. In fact, Dorian didn't even sense it. He didn't realize it until now though…but maybe Cullen simply hadn't taken his dose yet.

"Don't think too hard, Vint. You'll get wrinkles." Bull says from beside Dorian, who wrinkles his nose from the repulsive smell coming off the Qunari. Didn't he take baths?

"Could you please stand downwind from me? If I have to smell you, at least give me a distance of ten feet." Dorian criticizes.

Of course Iron Bull completely ignores him. "What are you thinking so hard about anyway? You haven't been with us very long but you're never this quiet."

"Trying to figure out how to dunk you in the nearest lake," Dorian answers. "Haven't you heard of oils or, Maker forbid, soap?"

"Too flowery."

Dorian's lip turns up in disgust, but a part of him assumes that Bull is only trying to get a rise out of him because the Qunari has had plenty of bodies to warm his bed. And they weren't Qunari. Not even a whore would put up with the stench he was giving off right now.

"Then you can sleep under the stars tonight. I refuse to share a tent with you." Dorian says as they follow the Herald to another rift. The man wanted to close a few just so he had a good handle on how to use the power in his hand, so they were all more likely to succeed in closing the Breach. It still loomed above them with its sickly green color and Dorian was just as eager as the rest of the world to get it closed.

Everyone was ready, it was all just a matter of Trevelyan feeling confident enough that he'll be able to close the thing. From earlier conversations, it was possible that they would get it done as soon as they returned to Haven. 

Dorian's thoughts were put on hold as the rift opened when they neared it, and he was forced to focus on killing the demons that came out of it. Simple enough. Fortunately, because he had actually sneezed mid cast and lightning burst from his fingertips and found its target on the remaining sloth demon. After the Herald closed the rift, Dorian brushed away the dirt on his robes and sniffled.

"Ah…excuse me." He says nonchalantly.

Sera glances at him warily. "Do you always sneeze magic like that?"

"I was in the middle of casting. I'm more likely to do something like that if I get too excited in bed." Dorian says with a slight grin.

"Ugch. Sorry I asked," The elf grimaces and Dorian laughs.

"If we head back now, we should make it back to Haven by nightfall." Trevelyan says, interrupting the conversation. "Is anyone injured?"

"Nothing Dorian can't kiss better," Iron Bull chuckles.

"Not even in your dreams." Dorian snorts before turning and walking back to where they left their horses.

It was a short walk since they only had to leave them where the horses couldn't trod, and once they were all mounted, they immediately set off for Haven. Dorian would have protested the trip if it had been past noon, but it was only mid morning and he preferred hours of horseback riding than someone making an attempt on his life at every turn. While the enemies of the Inquisition had the decency of bellowing their intentions, and enemies Dorian may have had weren't as daring.

He was still expecting poison in his ale.

Of course, the people had relaxed more in the past month, but there would always be someone that held a grudge. Not even for Dorian, just for his homeland. And he was the closest they were going to get to it. He had to admit though, the tension was less and he felt a little more at ease.

Not to mention that he was starting to get comfortable with testing certain buttons on the illustrious commander. Dorian still chose his battles carefully, but a flirt here and there was working out to be safe and seeing the other man squirm was magnificent. It almost gave him a high. He still played it safe just in case it ended up chasing Cullen away altogether.

And then he had a thought.

What if it already was?

What if his harmless teasing and flirting was the reason the commander hadn't come to find him for a game of chess? In fact, why did Dorian care so much? Not having Cullen around would be one less person to watch his every move…but maybe a part of Dorian hoped that Cullen really was just looking to be friends. Dorian could count how many of those he had on one hand and he certainly could use a couple more here in the South. He didn't think he could quite call anyone a friend yet. They were still acquaintances…just more familiar than they were a month ago.

Dorian spent the entire trip back to Haven ignoring Bull's attempts to flirt with him–and also tried to stay upwind, he really did smell to high heaven–and Sera's random commentary about anything that came up. He was pretty sure he heard her say something about pants and figured he was better off not knowing. The discussion of pants when it came to Sera usually boiled down to the fact that she stole them. Although, the story Varric told him when they met her was amusing.

"Is there something resembling a bath in Haven?" Dorian asks when the gates of the small village come into view. "If I have to use the washbasin again, I might just scream."

Trevelyan looked over his shoulder at Dorian and the expression he wore was enough of an answer for the mage. "Sorry, Dorian. Josephine is trying but she says that some things are more important than others."

The mage answers with a heavy sigh, remaining quiet for the rest of the ride, and then almost falling off his horse when he dismounts. Hours of riding made his legs numb but he supposed he would eventually get used to it. For now, he let the stable hand take his horse's reins and then made his way through the gates and to his shared cabin. He felt wobbly for the first few feet, but feeling quickly came back and he almost wanted the numbness back.

His legs were sore. Everything was sore if he were honest. Dorian was by no means out of shape, but he wasn't used to riding horseback or hiking the Hinterlands for hours on end. A long, hot bath sounded like heaven to him, but he would have to make do with a quick wipe down at the basin and maybe a quick nap. 

The cabin was empty when Dorian walked into it, and he loudly groaned out his relief as he dropped his pack onto his cot, and then stripped away his armor so he could strip off the top part of his ensemble. He tossed it onto his bed with the rest of his belongings before grabbing the clean rag hanging over the lip of the wash basin, warmed the water with his magic, and then wiped away the week of dirt from his body.

He would have seriously considered taking a dip in the lake above camp if he had known he would have to bathe like this again. At least then he would have gotten a majority of the grime off.

His boots and pants went next, and Dorian made quick work of cleaning up so he could dress in some clean clothes that he had picked up in Redcliffe. The small clothes were changed as well after he thoroughly washed, and when he was dressed, Dorian very nearly fell into his bed. Sleep came easily for him after he pulled his thin blanket up to his chin, and when he woke again, it was because of the morning sun shining directly into his eyes.

"Fasta vass," Dorian curses quietly, covering his eyes from the bright light.

His stomach grumbled loudly in protest and Dorian was forced to get up and put his boots on so he could head to the tavern for some breakfast. Or the gruel they called breakfast. Dorian hadn't expected to sleep through the night, but he had, and now he was starving since the last time he had eaten was 24 hours earlier.

When he stepped out of the cabin, Dorian was almost tempted to walk right back in and into the warmth of his bed. It was only comfortable when he was dead on his feet. Barely warm unless a fire was stoked. Instead, he forced himself forward and down to the tavern where he retrieved his meal from Flissa with a smile and then found a table to sit at. Considering it was mid morning, the tavern was practically empty save for one or two people, and even Sera wasn't in her usual corner.

"I went to your cabin but you weren't there," a voice says from beside Dorian, making him startle. When he looks up, he huffs when he finds Cullen. In full armor. Either Dorian was too engrossed in his own thoughts or the commander just knew how to move silently.

"Somebody should put a bell on you. I thought I would be able to hear you stomping around in that armor of yours a mile away." Dorian grouses before sticking a spoonful of gruel into his mouth.

"It is not my intention to…" Cullen trails off and shifts his footing before saying, "...the Herald said he had not seen you since you arrived last night. I came to see if you were alright and if you were…if I could ask you for that game of chess."

Dorian looks back up at him in surprise. "Don't you have soldiers to train? I imagine one or two of them are holding their swords by the pointy bit."

Cullen rubs the back of his neck. "Normally, yes…but the Herald wishes to close the Breach today. We thought it best to let the soldiers rest until then. There's no telling what kind of demons will come out of it or how many."

"Something tells me that you aren't resting of your own will," Dorian says, smirking when Cullen grimaces in response. He knew the commander enough that Dorian knew that the other man would be running around Haven until the very last moment to make sure that everything was ready. "I'm guessing it was our dear Herald's orders?"

"He suggested that I find something relaxing to do if I won't take the time to get some sleep," Cullen admits with a sigh. "I did promise you a game of chess and it will help keep my mind off of things."

"Very well Commander. I'll accept being your alibi for the afternoon." Dorian says as he takes another bite of his food.

"I…no. I didn't mean–"

"I know." Dorian interrupts. "I'll finish my breakfast and then we can play chess to your heart's content. Where will we be setting up?"

Cullen shoulders drop in relief. "There's a board set up in one of the rooms in the chantry."

"I won't be but a moment." Dorian says, and the commander nods before turning and leaving the tavern. He went almost as silently as he came and Dorian cursed the man for being so comfortable in heavy armor that it was like a second skin to him.

True to his word, Dorian finished his meal shortly after the commander left and took the bowl up to Flissa to be washed. He thanked her with a smile before he left the tavern and made his way up to the chapel for his scheduled game of chess. If anything, it was as good an excuse as any to get inside and warm up. Not that anyone had actually told him to stay out of the building. But he preferred not to have the chantry hens looking down their noses at them or mumbling such nonsense like "blood magic". He despised it as much as they did. If not more.

They didn't really need to know why though. It would only give everyone even more of a reason to look at him sideways. Just when they were starting to warm up to his presence.

"Indulge me, Commander. Why–" Dorian starts as he opens a door further in the chapel until he runs face first into what felt like a wall. Once he regains his bearings, he finds himself looking at none other than Cullen. Who was looking apologetic.

"Ah…I'm sorry, Dorian. Something came up that needs my attention. We'll have to try another time for chess." Cullen apologizes.

Dorian was a little miffed that he was practically sent on a wild goose chase but he understood. "It's alright Commander. Duty calls and all of that." He brushes off an invisible speck of dust from his shoulder. "Don't let me keep you."

Cullen apologizes again before skirting by him to leave the room and Dorian looks into the room at the small table set up with a chess board. It would be a shame for him to come for no reason and it had been a while since he played, so Dorian opted to play a game with himself to practice. It would keep him out of the cold for a little while at least.

When he sat down and moved his first piece, he tried to ignore how small and dark the room was.

[socially-awkward-skeleton]

Thanks for the tag @incognito-insomniac​.

Technically it’s still Tuesday for me, but what the heck, I’m always happy to share a bit more of my WIP.

Tagging: @gaeadene​, @schoute​, @resonating-kitty​, @ivymarquis​, @galaxycunt​, @gayafsatan​, @clicheantagonist​

Jacob slid his scope back on to the body of the gun with a loud click. "You think you got us all figured out, huh? What's mine?"

"Yours?" she asked while cocking her eyebrow.

 He nodded, blue eyes digging deep into her.

 "If it’s not your family, it’s me."

 His brow furrowed, eyes narrowing at her insinuation.

She leaned forward, resting on her arm against the table. "No one would go to all this trouble for someone they didn't care for. You can say I'm just a tool as much as you like but that doesn't change the fact that you're doing your damnedest to keep me alive at all costs."

He returned to cleaning his weapon, pretending as though she hadn’t just called him out. "A good soldier knows how to take care of his weapons. He cleans them, he oils them. He treats them well."

 "You can fuck right off with that bullshit. You ended up in the Henbane after I made my radio call. You could have ignored me, left me to rot, to get picked up by the Cougars or the Whitetails - but you didn't. You went out of your way to be the one to come for me."

 "The state you were in, you're lucky it was me who found ya. Anybody could've had their paws on ya."

 She shook her head, he refused to admit it. It was all well and good to flirt with her when she was caged, but god forbid he should have to do it when she was here in his cabin, wearing his clothes, sleeping in his bed.

 "I need to go." She stood up quickly, her chair dragging against the old floor boards. She could feel herself becoming too comfortable in his presence, the scene was practically domestic.

 "Where? Where do you need to be?"  He didn’t even lift his head to look at her. He kept on wiping down the barrel with a shammy cloth.

"Out there."

He snorted quietly through his nose, smirking at her insistence on leaving. "Fighting the good fight against the Father?"

"Maybe. Where’s my shit?"

He rolled his eyes, annoyed by her reaction. He was a Herald. He couldn’t very well tell the woman who had been standing in the way of Eden’s Gate and Joseph’s vision that he cared enough about her, that he didn’t want to see her dead. He couldn’t tell her that he’d gotten soft for her, that was weak, something he couldn’t afford to be with her.

"Why does everything have to be a goddamn fight with you?" his voice came out as a low growl, like distant thunder on the horizon.

Both pairs of blue eyes narrowed at each other, another day, and another stand-off.

"Isn't that why you picked me? I’m the perfect soldier, right?”

Jacob stood up, carrying his rifle at his side, he neared her slowly, carefully, she was a caged animal and he was backing her into a corner. He loomed over her, his height casting a shadow over her. He tried his best to make her feel small. But she didn’t back down, keeping her chin held high, shoulders back. He took another step forward and shoved her backwards. She tried her best to hold her ground, but he was stronger than her, there was no denying that. He lifted his rifle and shoved her back once more, using it like a shield, forcing her to fall back into her seat. He held her in place, the rifle stock pressed into her shoulder.

"I don’t want to hurt you angel, but you know I could. You're not seeing sense right now. All that bliss really fucked with your head, kitten."

“Fuck you!”

“You have.”

[the-siren-saga]

Moirah’s Quest

The ship was quiet as it neared the unmapped subrealm of Altamir'zin. The only sound was the soft mechanical whirring and beeping of the ship's various systems, working hour after hour to keep the crew alive and moving.

"Uvall," Moirah said softly, resting her hand on her assistant's shoulder in an attempt to put the nervous man at ease. "Are we nearly there?"

"Yes, ma'am," the wiry and somewhat high-strung Dekn answered. He hated how easily he seemed to slip into his old timid, servile persona, especially with the great pains that Moirah had taken to make sure he knew it was unnecessary since he'd come into her employ.

"You can just call me Moirah, you know."

Uvall chuckled lightly, though it was more for her benefit than his own. He didn't like seeming traumatized in a way that could be seen as inconvenient. "Ha, yeah, old habits. Sorry 'bout that," he laughed, in a rather forced manner. "But, yeah, we're getting close. I used the codes Lysandra gave us to hack the IFF so the border system thinks we're a Purple Rose ship."

Moirah smiled brightly and patted her assistant on the shoulder. "You're a fucking genius, Uvall. Great work." He really had made a lot of progress since they’d started working together. Moirah was never one for mentorship, but when she met Uvall, she felt there was no other choice. So, she started teaching him her trade– security, diplomacy, information dealing, and infiltration– and found that he excelled in it.

"Hey, we're almost there," Uvall said after a while, before picking up the mic. "Purple Rose vessel 87724 requesting clearance for entry."

A muffled voice came through the other side. "Glory to the Faithful, for we shall ensure His Ascension."

Uvall looked back at Moirah, who flashed him a sympathetic, concerned look. Do I have to? he asked her through their mental link.

Yeah, Moirah replied. I'm sorry, I know it hurts.

Uvall swallowed his pride, giving the countersign. "Glory to the God-Emperor, for by His Ascension shall our faith be rewarded." To his credit, the immense revulsion he had at that phrase didn't really show in his voice.

"Welcome, my brother in service. What's your destination?" the guard asked.

Uvall cringed, but pushed forward, his resolve stronger than steel. "I have a lowly piece of heretical scum with me who requires purification by the Twenty-Second Sacrament."

"Name and division?"

Uvall had been prepared for this, and slipped a new name into the registry. "Jessamine Thallios," he answered immediately. "Of the Samael'evri encampment."

The guard laughed at this. "All the way out there? Well, shit. No wonder she was tempted to heresy so easily."

They have no idea, Moirah transmitted to her assistant. She had changed into a simple white dress and put a glamour on herself, so that to most who saw her, she would appear much younger and less threatening. "Here, dope me," she said matter-of-factly once the radio was off, handing Uvall a vial and a syringe.

"...You sure about this?"

"As sure as I've ever been of anything," Moirah answered in the same brisk tones. "Just do it before they figure out we're up to something."

Uvall performed the injection with the unflinching proficiency of a practiced medic, catching Moirah as the drug began to take effect and bringing her to rest on a gurney that they'd wheeled onto the ship for precisely this purpose. The drug in the syringe was a formula that Moirah had stolen from one of Andras's facilities a long time ago, capable of inducing what looked like a deep sleep while preserving all higher brain function and psionic abilities.

From this point until he woke her up, he would be on his own.

"87724, hang tight, we're bringing you in for processing."

Within a few minutes, Uvall had wheeled Moirah into an expansive brutalist monstrosity of a compound. Processing, as the guard had called it, was a long and grueling series of questions meant to gauge the nature and severity of "Jessamine's" crimes. After what seemed like hours, the session was, mercifully, over. "Through this door," the interrogator said, "then down that hallway until you see a blue metal door with a sign that says CR 1–25. Those are the conditioning rooms. Take her into room ten. Our Eternal Master is here at the facility today, so He will take it from there."

He's here?! Uvall thought to himself, taking refuge in Moirah's shield to avoid anyone else overhearing. "Thank you. Elucidis be praised," he said by way of greeting, bowing his head respectfully. If the interrogator returned the greeting, Uvall didn't stop to acknowledge it.

On the way to the conditioning rooms, Uvall began to get a massive, pounding headache, intercut with moments that seemed to be seen through another's eyes, and cast in a strange, purple light...

"You are a disgrace to me, Malistrade," Marchosias sneered, striking his Consort across the face. "You knew about the treachery of Lysandra Myrrine, her little ‘Random Element’ scheme, and you did nothing to prevent the HARM THAT HER ACTIONS WOULD CAUSE."

Malistrade staggered backward, gripping a table to balance himself. "Master, I… I never intended to aid her by my inaction, there were so many possible futures surrounding the Irinith child's escape that I–"

"Don't try to explain yourself. Your gift belongs to me, just like the rest of you, and you've betrayed me by keeping your visions a secret."

Uvall stopped in the middle of the hallway, nearly doubling over from how clearly he saw and felt everything in that vision. Was that retrocognition, or was Malistrade actually here? Suddenly, he felt very small. Usually, when he saw through the eyes of one of the others in his triad, he could count on Moirah to reassure and comfort him. He could count on her to be there for him until it passed and to remind him to take care of himself while it was happening.

He brushed a strand of hair out of Moirah's face as they neared CR 10. Not much longer now, he transmitted, knowing she could still hear him through the effects of the sedative.

The door to Conditioning Room 10 opened automatically as Uvall entered with Moirah, and immediately, he felt the intensely blissful presence of Marchosias Aversen. Malistrade, who was standing at attention against the back wall, locked eyes with Uvall, and an unspoken contract formed between the two. We protect each other. We have no other choice.

Marchosias, much friendlier and more affable than he'd been in Uvall's vision, stepped forward to greet him. "It's great to see you. I must admit, I don't make it out to Samael'evri very often, but it pleases me to know that even so far from me, there are those of you who keep the faith." He put one hand on Uvall's shoulder, pulling him slightly closer. "Malistrade, guard the door. I don't want anyone walking in on us."

"As you command," Malistrade answered promptly, moving to exit the room and stand guard.

"Now that we're alone– well, alone with the exception of the sedated heretic you've brought me– I think you and I should have a talk."

Uvall scanned the room for things he could use to his advantage. Marchosias's back was turned to Moirah, that was good. He slipped his hand in his pocket, and found the device that Moirah had given him– a device that, when activated, would tell the bracelet around her wrist to produce an electric shock that would wake her from her chemically induced sleep. Not yet, he thought to himself. Soon, but not yet. "Yes, my God-Emperor. Anything you wish."

Marchosias smiled wickedly and looked deep into Uvall's eyes, causing him to reflexively look down. "You know, I very rarely have problems with my Consort. I've trained him well, and his behavior is, most of the time, exemplary. But today, since you've shown up, he seems to have picked up a bit of a rebellious streak." Caressing Uvall's shoulder, he lowered his voice, slipping into a hypnotic baritone. "Now, I wonder why it is that a farm boy from Samael'evri could have that effect on him. Tell me who you are, I want the satisfaction of hearing you say it in your own voice."

"I'm… I'm Ezra Thallios. Jessamine's my sister. If you'll double check the membership manifest, you'll see both our names listed…"

He could feel himself succumbing. The power was too strong– if he kept fighting it, he'd end up like Shanna, with no more strength to resist.

"Nonsense. There is no Jessamine and Ezra Thallios. You are Uvall Candon, and that woman's name is Moirah Averil." Marchosias paused for a moment. "Which means that you brought Moirah Averil right to me. Asleep." He turned to Moirah, cupping her cheek with his hand. "What a prize you've brought me, Uvall. I knew that I could turn that… connection my Consort seems to have with you to my advantage."

"It was easy," Uvall said, thanking the Hethe for making him such a good actor. "She was willing to walk right into the belly of the beast as long as there was even a chance of finding the Herald again."

"She'll do much better in my service. As will you, Uvall. You, and Malistrade, and that unfortunate test subject of Andras's… think of the endless possibilities," Marchosias purred, turning back to Uvall, his voice becoming hypnotic once again. "Say you'll be mine. Say that I own you, that you can't get enough of me, that you long to please me."

"I… I belong to…" It was so easy to fall into this. It felt so nice.

Another vision of another room in another facility much like this. Marchosias whispering into Shanna's ear. "You can walk away from this free and safe, as long as you just… let… go."

"I'm the apprentice of Moirah Averil, and I sure as fuck don't belong to you," he said, activating the device.

Moirah jolted awake and gripped the back of Marchosias's neck before he knew what was happening. Using the same bracelet that had woken her up, she delivered a shock powerful enough to paralyze him, sending him crumpling to the ground. "You… you treacherous…"

"It's not going to work, Marchosias. You know what I can do." Moirah kicked him in the stomach, enjoying the way he was unable to defend himself. "I'd wager that I'm one of only three people in the Lathrym you've ever been scared of."

Marchosias hissed in pain. "I'm not scared of–"

"You're scared of consequences. You're scared of the things you can't break, the things you can't control. You are terrified of random elements, and regardless of anyone else's claims to the title? I'm the most unpredictable of them all. And I bet that just makes you wake up in a cold sweat, doesn't it." She kicked him again, snickering quietly as he cried out. "This is nothing compared to the pain you've inflicted upon others, Marchosias. Nothing. Caris Euphrasia, Laurien Adaire, Timothée Solal, Penperin Ilsenthe, Idele Serrion… Shanna Averil."

"I gave Shanna Averil everything," he spat. "You have no right to take her from me."

She bent down, taking Marchosias's ceremonial dagger from its sheath and holding it to his neck. "Tell me where she is, or I will kill you where you lie."

It's not his time yet, Moirah, Uvall spoke into her mind. Malistrade showed me what must come to pass. There's no way it'll be this easy.

It's not like he knows that, Moirah transmitted in return.

"You think I'd tell you, Moirah? You haven't been very nice to me," Marchosias teased with a confident smirk.

She drew the dagger across his neck, enough to draw blood while not doing any serious damage. "Don't test me," she hissed. "I have suffered too much and lost too many to care if I hurt you now."

"Room six," he said, his expression revealing not a trace of fear or worry over the predicament. "But if you think this is over, you're severely–"

"I've heard enough." Dropping the dagger, she charged the bracelet and grabbed the back of his neck again, this time hitting him with enough of a charge to knock the Dekn Master out for at least a few hours. "Dear God of Beetles, I can still feel his hand on my– Where's Shanna?" she asked. "I don't trust a word out of his mouth, I need to be certain."

"Room six, I made sure. Get his keycard." After the brief moment it took for Moirah to get the keycard, and Uvall to switch off the cameras in the hallway and erase the footage from CR 10, the two of them left the room. "If he asks, I incapacitated you," Uvall said casually to Malistrade before heading to room six. Malistrade said nothing in return, but could be seen to smile a bit in pride, despite himself.

***

Gripping the sides of her cot and quietly crying, Shanna Averil looked like a completely different person than she was when Moirah last saw her. "...Aunt Moirah?" she asked weakly, looking up to see Moirah and Uvall enter the room.

Moirah stepped closer, expanding her shield to envelop the other woman and nullify her ability. "Yes, Shanna, it's me. I'm here," she whispered, helping her off of the cot. "I've got you, don't worry. We're going home now."

"Back to Ersis?" she asked, clinging to her rescuer for dear life.

"Back with me."

Moirah and Shanna Averil had both been through so much pain, so much sorrow, just to get to this point, but it was okay. They had each other now, they were a family again. And nothing could change that.