#she is beauty she is grace she’ll put those artifacts back in place

[heyclickadee]

Someone drop Phee in the middle of the Smithsonian or the British Museum and let her go to town.

[shining-red-diamond]

Ch. 23: Eye of Horus

Cast of Characters//Ch. 1//Ch. 2//Ch. 3//Ch. 4//Ch. 5//Ch. 6//Ch. 7//Ch. 8//Ch. 9//Ch. 10//Ch. 11//Ch. 12//Ch. 13//Ch. 14//Ch. 15//Ch. 16//Ch. 17//Ch. 18//Ch. 19//Ch. 20//Ch. 21//Ch. 22//Ch. 23//Ch. 24//Ch. 25//Ch. 26//Ch. 27//Ch. 28 (coming soon)

Words: 1.2k

Genre: Fluff, some angst

Pairing: ATEEZ OT8 x OCs

Rating: PG-13

Warnings: brief sensuality, mentions of illness

Soft kisses on her cheek pulled Grace-Anne from her sleep. It was part of Seonghwa’s morning ritual to wake up his fiancée, and he did so by kissing her in various places on her face. Him being so touchy-feely was only saved for Grace-Anne when it was just them alone, and it contrasted with his “no nonsense, serious man” persona. He was still a kind soul, he just wasn’t a fan of PDA except for hand holding. Behind closed doors, he was all over her.

“Good morning,” his deep voice sang softly.

“Hi, you,” Grace-Anne’s morning voice croaked, causing Seonghwa to chuckle. “What time is it?”

“Same time I always wake you: seven in the morning.”

“I figured as much. Are we in Egypt?”

“Come look,” Seonghwa smiled as he motioned for her to come to the window.

Still a little disoriented, Grace-Anne slowly stood from her side of the best and trudged over to see what was happening. Once she glanced outside, she felt fully awake. The sky was a beautiful blue as the sun was still rising, the desert sand a golden hue, and the breathtaking ruins of the pyramids added to the eternal sunny desert. A few men on camels could be seen riding as they led a few more, and a city could be spotted in the distance; but it was on the other side of the pyramids.

“Won’t people notice the ship?” Grace-Anne asked.

“The camouflage is up,” Seonghwa reassured. “So we’ll be okay.”

He kisses her cheek just before she turns to get dressed.

“No good morning kiss?” teased her fiance.

“You already gave me one,” giggled Grace-Anne as she grabbed her clothes from the armoire.

Seonghwa snakes her arms around her, capturing her in an embrace. He kissed right below her earlobe and whispered, “I want a proper kiss.”

Grace-Anne scoffed playfully. “Someone’s needy.”

Turning around in his arms, Grace-Anne pulled him towards her until their lips touched in a warm kiss. Seonghwa had a habit of being sneaky in stealing kisses from the woman he loved, and she always played along with his antics. Sometimes, he’s so sneaky to a point it ends up with the two having laugh attacks. But this morning was just him being romantic and wanting her touch.

“Can I get dressed and make breakfast now?” she requested after breaking the kiss.

Seonghwa sulked but let her go attend to her ship duties. He then busied himself making the bed and packing his bag before meeting with the captain for the daily agenda. Today was one of the days where he packed Grace-Anne’s bag for her as she spent longer in the kitchen this morning, which was not uncommon as she would make Celestia’s specialized meal depending on what everyone else was eating for breakfast.

Once all of the essentials were packed in both bags, Seonghwa made his way to the board room and was surprised to find the captain standing at the corkboard pinning some new information.

“Are you feeling better, captain?” he asked.

“A little,” Hongjoong answered honestly, dark circles under his tired eyes. “My stomach still feels weird, so I’m not sure if I’ll go exploring the pyramids. What I can do right now is give everyone the brief.”

If Hongjoong wasn’t going to lead this exploration, who was going to be in charge? He was typically the one who kept everyone together, so Seonghwa wasn’t sure what he or Yeosang or even Dahae would do if the position was handed over to any of them.

He put the thoughts aside as the rest of the crew piled into the board room, Celestia immediately sitting in one of the chairs.

Hongjoong took a breath before addressing his crewmates. “Good morning,” he smiled weakly. “I hope everyone slept well and has what they need for exploring today. However, I won’t be joining you on this one.”

A few shocked murmurs erupted from the crew, and Dahae was quick to calm them. None of them could wrap their heads around the idea of exploring without their leader. Hongjoong was the one who knew how to keep everyone together, knew his maps, and made the big decisions. The fear of falling apart dangled in the back of their minds.

“I’m still having side effects,” Hongjoong explained, “so I’ll be putting Seonghwa in charge for now.”

The First Mate wasn’t expecting to be the one chosen to lead temporarily, and he didn’t have the map skills Hongjoong had; but he knew San could help him decipher it if he was healed.

“First,” continued the captain as he went over the agenda, “we need to establish the rotation for Celestia’s caregiver during explorations. Who’s going to take the first shift?”

“I’ll stay,” volunteered Phoebe, raising her hand.

“Excellent. Now, I’ve asked Celestia to look over the notes for Egypt, so she’ll be handing those to Seonghwa.”

“I made my own notes as well,” Celestia replied as she handed a sheet of paper to Seonghwa. “It’s just a little cheat sheet of symbols and artifacts mentioned in maps for this location.”

Upon him reading over her notes, Celestia had made bullet points and labeled what each key point meant:

-Ankh: classic hieroglyph used in a lot of fictional storytelling; symbol used for “life” and actually holds a lot of power in Egyptian beliefs -Treasures can vary between different artifacts like vases/pots, jewelry, heirlooms, and blue gold in some cases -Pets were considered sacred treasure to the culture and some royal figures had their pets buried in the tombs with them

Much more had been jotted down, but the thing that stood out to him was three underlined words: Eye of Horus.

“So, are we looking for a tomb or something?” Taeran interrupted, pulling Seonghwa from his thoughts.

“No,” Celestia shook her head. “It’s a secret room that holds all kinds of treasures the great pharaohs of Egypt valued: gold, precious stones, even sacred items. There are symbols of the ankh and Eye of Horus in there somewhere, but it doesn’t say where exactly. Those are where you’ll find the next diamond piece.”

Everyone, including the captain, looked at Seonghwa now to make the next move. It was all new to him now that he was temporarily in charge, but he straightened himself and cleared his throat.

“Thank you, Celestia,” he spoke. “Let’s get everything ready before meeting at the door.”

-

“And you’re sure you’ll be okay without me?” San asked as he strapped on his backpack.

“San, for the last time,” his wife giggled, “I’ll be okay. Phoebe will be my guardian angel, and Byeol will snuggle with me. Hongjoong will be here, too, but he’ll probably be resting mostly.”

San sighed in defeat. He couldn’t help that he worried about her so much, especially if she were to go into labor when he wasn’t on the ship to attend to her quickly. However, he knew she was in good hands.

“Alright,” he smiled slightly. “I love you, angel. I know I worry to death about you, but I just want you and the baby to be okay and healthy.”

Celestia cups his face and promises, “We’re okay. If something was wrong, you’ll be the first to know.”

His gloved hands went to her swollen waist and pulled her in for a long and deep kiss. He then knelt down to her belly and kissed it before whispering, “You be good for mommy, now. Okay, Princess?”

-

Tags: @treasure-hwa​ @ateezlovenet​ (Let me know if you’d like to be added or removed)

[pauldron-pieces]

Perdita 'Aurelezra' Gentle's Backstory: From Elsewhere

Fandom: Dungeons And Dragons (5E)

Pairing: N/A, Perdita-Centric

Rating: Holy shit M.

AN: This is a hypothetical narrative scenario featuring original characters in a world created by my Dungeon Master. As usual, this is non-canon and I own nothing aside from intellectual properties specifically attached to Perdita Gentle. This installment is mechanically unsound in a multitude of ways and ignores certain important lore facets.

Applicable trigger warnings are listed inside. Enjoy!

Taglist: @sporadic-fics and @cookiethewriter!

Inspired By: The Little Mermaid Score: Bedtime and sleepmakeswaves: One Day You Will Teach Me To Let Go Of My Fears

[Perdita Gentle is a Warforged celestial warlock utilizing the Pact Of The Bastion homebrew, and her appearance can be found here!]

[!TRIGGER WARNING!: This installment contains multiple triggering scenes including vivid depictions of violence and brief mentions of character death. Stay safe!]

It came from elsewhere...

Amidst the hail of shooting stars peppering the landscape from the tail of the near-passing comet, something else arrived.

It was frail, fragile, spindly fingers clawing for purchase on the walls of the crater it emerged from. It did not make it much further than that, and it was discovered the following morning by two children surveying the damage in their family's garden.

Between the two of them, they propped it up, marveling at the chipped red gilding that coated its limbs. It stirred and they fled in a panic, running back towards the large house and calling for their parents.

×+×

Brand stared down at the crumpled mess of Warforged on his front terrace, an eyebrow raised. His two young children danced around his legs, alternating between pulling him forward and tugging him back. "This is the cause of all the fuss? This?" He asked incredulously.

"It moved by itself!"

"Aye, just as you move by yourself." The former captain commented dryly, ruffling his daughter's hair and utterly destroying the complex tangle of braids her mother had labored over. "You two lubbers have seen Warforged before, or have you forgotten?"

"Testin doesn't look like that!" His son protested. "Testin has a face!"

"You know how your hair is different from mine, pup? And how your sister's nose is less prodigious than this beak I sport? Warforged have such varied traits as well."

The head on the thing looked like an old Thanatonaut relic, just a smooth dome. It also bore archaic equipment for off-Flow navigation on the inside of its arms. Brand heaved out a sigh, smoothing a finger over his brown mustache in a meditative manner.

"Well, we can't just leave 'em out here. Ceere, have your mother ring Testin. And you, Kamer, are going to help me settle this poor rattler into one of our chairs out here." Brand rolled his eyes at how pale his son went, while Ceere stuck her tongue out at him. "Oi, chit, stop taunting your brother. Now shoo, and make sure your mother knows to tell Testin that it's important!"

×+×

Brand Gentle had made his fortune in his younger years as the eventual captain on a deep-space excavation platform. He had seen many odd things in his day, unearthed strange and unusual artifacts from times long gone by. Thanatonaut helms that predated mankind's fumbling into Flow travel, monoliths to terrible and forgotten powers; the refuse of man's advance into the stars.

Yet he had never seen anything quite like this. A Warforged birthed of a meteor, trimmed in battered red and gold like the veils of the Vespertine Order.

The former captain sat on his patio across from the mysterious Warforged, finally leaning forward in his chair after he collected his thoughts. "What is your name?" He asked quietly.

The thing ticked and whirred, and a hoarse voice answered, "I have no designation." A female voice.

Brand sighed heavily. He should have known it wouldn't be so straightforward. Beside him, Testin Awe cleared his throat. "Think back. Can you remember what happened before you woke in the Gentle's prize rose garden?" The hulking Warforged's tone was dry, blue eyes darting to Brand when he touched upon the sensitive subject. Brand was exceedingly protective of his roses.

More ticking. "Darkness." An odd shimmy of mechanics long unused as she tipped her head to the side. "I fell."

"I bet you did." Testin replied, then muttered under his breath, "Captain, she's battier than the Bakhroma Green."

Brand waved him off, giving the faceless Warforged across from him a tight smile. She cocked her head to the side again, and he got the unsettling feeling that he was being studied.

"I hurt your flowers. How can I fix them?" She queried.

Brand blinked. Testin, despite lacking an actual throat, seemed quite intent on clearing it today.

×+×

Calling her Perdita seemed to be a given. She was lost, constantly, wandering the grounds of the Gentle estate at all hours of the night and day. She had no physical needs, as was the custom of her race, so Brand saw no harm in her roving. She certainly didn't seem malicious, just curious in a blunt way.

Libertia, Brand's wife, took an odd shine to the spacey automaton. The former captain often found the woman chatting to her, trying to help her expand her ability for speech. Perdita was minimalist in her words, though she did eventually begin to speak more as the years passed.

Testin thought Perdita was a bit touched. "Still a little battle-rattle in that one." He had remarked privately to Brand, his craggy face oddly sympathetic for a Warforged. "Hard to shake sometimes."

Brand knew better than most folk that Warforged were more than adequate matches for their fleshy counterparts, and he took everything his old first mate told him as gospel. Testin was in agreement with Brand that the red and gold Warforged was decidedly not a threat.

"She just likes the flowers?" Testin asked suddenly one evening as he and Brand sat on the terrace. Brand nodded lazily, the smoke from his cheroot cigar twirling and arching through the air. "I don't get it, but...well, I guess you did have a penchant for gathering up the misfits." The gray-green Warforged allowed, his sidelong grin making Brand chuckle. "She's happy here, y'know. She mentioned it to me earlier. She thinks she's helping when you let her trim the bushes." His laughter was a rusty noise.

"She loves talking with Lib. Er, with may not be the right term. My wife could talk the legs off a table." Brand smiled fondly and Testin rolled those glowing blue eyes.

"Have you heard from Kamer at all?" The large Warforged changed the subject, frowning when the former captain sighed and shook his head.

"I'm not sure I should have sent him away for his schooling. What with the Empire gaining ground steadily, I'm uncertain how long the boarding schools will be safe."

"Hey, Kamer's smart. You know that. That kid won't get himself tangled up in anything. Besides, what the hell would the Empire want with a kid who's sole aspiration is to be an architect?" Testin tilted his head. "Now, Ceere-"

"Don't remind me, she's apprenticed to the Facturers now. Hopefully, by the grace of the gods, she'll put her tinkering tendencies to good use and stop destroying my beautiful skiffs." Brand groaned, putting his head in his hands.

"I mean, she's got great potential. Engine ripped itself apart in three different places."

"I'm well aware, you mechanical menace. It was my favorite Screamer class!"

×+×

Libertia was the one to suggest that Perdita consider taking up the habit of the Vespertine Order.

"You seem at peace whenever you come with me to chapel, Perdie." She commented one afternoon over tea. Brand raised an eyebrow at his wife, then glanced at the featureless automaton across the way. "Have you ever thought about joining the convent?" Libertia queried.

Perdita hummed thoughtfully. "I like the chapel. It's quiet. Makes me feel like I can stop moving." She offered a shrug. "I know I'm not...quiet." She was a much older model than Testin and her body tended to rattle or squeak at odd intervals.

"You don't feel like you can be still here?" Brand asked curiously.

"I am restless." The Warforged admitted quietly. "Some things help. The garden. The chapel."

Brand grunted, settling back in his chair and lapsing into thought. The Vespertine sisters were a formidable bunch, for all that they resided on this backwater planetoid. They seemed to have their proverbial fingers in a multitude of pies. He wasn't sure if he trusted them with his Perdie.

His mustache quirked up in a wry grin, realizing that he was thinking of the Warforged like she was one of his own children. "Do what you think is best, Perdie. Perhaps the quiet will help you sort yourself out. Gods know we tithe enough to the church, maybe in exchange for our continued generosity they'll accept someone a little less fleshy than their usual ranks."

He got the faintest impression that Perdita was beaming at him, her whole body haloed with a strange golden light. But Brand blinked and the light was gone. He shook his head at himself, vowing not to spike his afternoon tea so strongly next time.

×+×

When the Empire came to the planet years later, they struck without warning.

Evening prayer had just finished, the last fleeting rays of sunlight peering through the simple leaded glass windows of the chapel. Perdita sat docile in the pew, her head bowed beneath her veil.

"It makes me glad to know that you've found some sort of peace and purpose." Brand commented, the now-elderly man ambling up alongside her. "Never put much faith in this church business, myself. Give me the Flow and a nimble craft and I'm a content man."

"Captain." She inclined her head. She had heard his sentiment many times before.

"I'm surprised you haven't gone out to chart the world, my dear. Your cartographer's gear will get rusty!" The former captain teased, settling down into the pew and patting her arm. "Surely, the Vespertine sisters ought to be spread?"

"It is dangerous." Perdita sighed. "I am trying. The Ferrarium Empire-"

"Bah, belay that codswallop here." Brand groused. "Bunch of nobles in stuffed shirts with too many guns and not enough good sense. Stole my good boy away and turned him into a simpering buffoon." He bowed his head, touching his thumb to his left cheek and then his sternum. "Thank the gods his mother passed on before he made that terrible choice."

An odd whistling caught his attention, and Brand cocked his head. His hearing had been shot for years, maybe he was imagining the sound-

The windows abruptly exploded inwards as an impact rocked the ground. Sisters scurried this way and that in panic, their veils fluttering like butterfly wings as they ushered the last few stragglers out of the structure. Brand, his ears still ringing from the first bombardment, felt a second one strike outside. Perdita was stiff, unmoving in the pew, so he seized her hand and made haste for the doorway.

"Perdie, we cannot linger in this place!" He tried to snap her out of it, her deceptively-heavy form slowing their flight. "It's the Empire, Perdie, we have to--" Through the haze of dust rising, the former captain caught sight of a massive dreadnought's keel flying low overhead. Rage burned at his soul; why would they come here of all places? This was a planet of agriculture, not manufacturing!

Perdita tilted her head, and Brand knew that she must have noticed the ship. "What is that?" She asked, her voice ticking up slightly in query.

"That is something that should not have turned its eye upon us!" Brand snapped. "Why the devil would they-" There was shouting up ahead, and scattered pistol fire. "Martyr's malfeasance," the elderly man swore, "I ought to have known."

The Inquisitors had arrived, bearing overpowered arms and causing chaos as was their want. Brand managed to slip around the edge of the advancing line, searching the crowds for Testin's large form. His old first mate was nowhere to be seen and Brand's heart sank.

An Inquisitor loomed up out of the smoke in front of them, halting the former captain in his tracks. "Identify yourself, civilian." The armored man droned.

"Or what? You've already blown the chapel and convent to pieces!" Brand spat. "What could the Ferrarium Empire possibly want from a sleepy little colony planet?"

The Inquisitor's baton met the side of the elderly man's head with a dull thud, felling him with ease.

×+×

Brand started awake, hacking and wheezing as he inhaled ash. He sat up, ignoring the throbbing of his head. Where is-

"Perdita!" He yelled, struggling to his feet and cupping his hands around his mouth. "Perdie, where are you?"

The cobblestones underfoot had been broken and scattered by the mortaring, making the footing uncertain. The former captain stumbled forward over the rubble, continuing to call for the Warforged.

A shimmer of red and gold flickered through the hellish smoke up ahead, and he fancied it might be her habit. His suspicions proved correct as her frail form solidified out of the clouds of billowing dust and ash.

"Perdita!" Brand exclaimed gladly.

She turned slowly at the sound of his voice, that damned veil still flapping fitfully in the turbulent air. Beneath the gauzy shroud where her domed head was, the former captain saw something blaze to life. Eyes, hundreds of them, glowing through the fabric. Brand stopped in his tracks, uncertain of what he was seeing. That blow to the head must have rattled him, now he was hallucinating!

Her hand pressed to her chest over the long habit. "I am the bastion." Perdita said calmly, as though they weren't being bombarded by low-flying aircraft. "I am Vespertine, I am Alizarin, I am reborn. My name is Aurelezra, and I fell to defend."

A shell plummeted from the sky and with a single motion, she obliterated it. One moment it was there, the next, she simply pointed at it and a shimmering golden manifestation that resembled an enormous rose blossom appeared directly in its path. The shell struck it, the impact sending foiled shrapnel flitting listlessly to the ground.

Brand was wholly bewildered. The only other time he had witnessed such power was when-

The thousands of eyes swiveled to stare at him, blinking rapidly. Brand swallowed hard. "What did those blasted nuns do to you, Perdie?" He asked, his voice so low he wasn't sure if she would hear it over the pandemonium.

Perdita tipped her head to the side, those eyes writhing and teeming nauseatingly over one another, flickering through the habit in a way that made Brand exceedingly glad she was wearing it. "I am the bastion." She repeated. She sounded hideously serene. "I am Alizarin."

Rifle reports barked through the air and Perdita turned towards the noise, setting off over the debris with sure steps. "Wait, Perdie!" Brand protested, fumbling after her as best as he could. "Perdie, are you mad? These are Inquisitors, you can't just..." He trailed off as he watched her simply walk through the line of gunfire. "Or perhaps you can." He muttered.

A strange golden haze shone around her body and every time a bullet struck the haze, a malevolent eye roiled to the surface to fix the attacker with a blazing stare. More shells rained down and each one was foiled or thrown off-target by shimmering, sunset-hued roses, blossoming riotously to life in midair like some grand fireworks display at a midsummer fair.

"Captain!" That was Testin's voice, thank gods. The elderly man turned this way and that, breathing a sigh of relief when he finally spotted the towering mass that was Testin.

"Testin my boy, you're a sight for sore eyes!" Brand said with a wry grin, taking in the small cluster of nuns that were teeming anxiously in the shadow of the massive automaton. Among them was the Mother Superior, her black veil a stark contrast to the usual red. "You've got some explaining to do, woman! What the hell have you done to my Perdie?" Brand thundered, itching to shake her until her teeth rattled.

"Sister Perdita has spent many, many hours reading the scriptures and studying our texts, Captain Gentle." The woman replied, almost infuriatingly calm. "She was brought to this planet for a specific reason."

"What are you on about? Look at her! It's like she's possessed!" The elderly man shouted.

"She has become more, Captain. A vessel for something that we mere mortals have only glimpsed. Alizarin, the Red Saint."

"There's a thousand blasted eyes all over her and she's sending out starbursts of roses that intercept cannon fire!" Brand roared. "I'll only ask once more, what have you done to her?"

"She willingly accepted this power, Captain. I suggest you calm yourself. I know you do not believe or trust in the power of the Red Saint, but Sister Perdita does." The matron retorted haughtily. "And when Libertia was alive-"

"Keep my wife's name out of your mouth." Brand snarled, his hand instinctively twitching down towards his hip for the piece he had carried in his younger years.

"Easy now, Cap." Testin intoned, raising a hand. "Easy."

"You planned this from the start." Brand accused the woman, a sick sense of realization blossoming in his gut. "You put the idea in Libertia's head, didn't you? Why Perdie?"

"Warforged make excellent vessels." The Mother Superior said simply.

Testin rumbled in threat overhead, one large hand settling heavily on the woman's shoulder. "I suggest you choose your next words very carefully." The Warforged paladin's tone was one of extreme irritation. "Unless you'd like to find out how bad of a vessel I can be."

"She has become a warlock of exceptional power." The woman hurriedly continued. "The Red Saint is pleased with our offering, and he will-"

"The Red Saint, aye? Unwilling martyr himself." Brand scoffed. "You've gone and turned my girl into a nightmare for the glory of that flayed demagogue."

"A nightmare that can go toe-to-toe with Inquisitor gunsmithing." The Mother Superior shot back smugly. "You knew as well as I did that it was only a matter of time before the Ferrarium Empire turned their gaze to the Fringes. Their grasping for resources is ceaseless."

"As interesting as your bickering is, we're wasting time." Testin growled, gesturing vaguely forwards. "She's gaining on their dreadnought. We following her?"

×+×

Everything was so loud.

"It is time, Aurelezra." His voice was like smoke, like whispers. He drew her attention upwards to the ship, He guided her hands as she wove the spell and He found her the suitable target. "They will not take this planet. They will never take again."

Perdita nodded shakily, power dripping and sparking from her fingers. "Never again."

"You have done well, Aurelezra. You easily outstrip the mortals." He praised as she raised her hands. "I shall do such wonders through you."

×+×

Without warning, a bolt of red light shot from Perdita's hands and arced up at the command ship. Testin swore loudly, the Warforged's face twisting into an approximation of a grimace. "Oh, that's not good." He said hoarsely, leaving the cluster of nuns behind as he moved forward.

"What, what's happened?" Brand asked frantically, trying to keep up.

"That was something that uh, I wouldn't have used. A little too spicy for me." The Warforged grunted, readying the hand cannon integrated in his left forearm. His heavy, elephantine feet easily crushed the rubble beneath him, clearing the way for the former captain. "If everyone on that ship isn't dead after that spell hits..."

"What?" Brand gasped.

Testin shook his head mournfully, not finishing that trail of thought. "We need to figure out where the ship will go down. Figure out whether we can break it apart ahead of time or whether your Perdie has a few more Red Saint tricks up that veil." Testin's sigh was heavy. "I'm sorry, Captain."

The command ship began rapidly losing altitude, listing slightly to the right. Perdita pursued it doggedly and Brand watched her raise her hands again. "Perdie!" He shouted, heartened when she paused. "Stop, Perdie!"

"Stay put!" Testin yelled, then said, "Cap, either get onboard or get left behind, we don't have time for your old bones."

Brand growled something uncharitable about his former first mate, then swung up onto the pro-offered arm.

Testin sprinted forward, easily catching up to the waifish Perdita and grabbing her around the waist with one massive hand. "I'd like to shake the marbles clean out of your chest right now, but we don't have time for me to be pissed off at you." Testin snarled at her, still at his full sprint. "You got anything else in that arsenal of yours, or are you gonna' let that ship crush someone's farm?"

"I can do it."

"What, exactly?"

Perdita pointed upwards at the ship and simply said, "shatter." A massive golden rose exploded into being on the keel, blowing a hole in the hull the size of the town square. Splinters and beams rained down, Testin barely managing to dodge a few of the larger chunks.

"Martyr's malfeasance, you're a menace!" The larger Warforged said in disbelief, the cannon in his left arm whirring to life as the ship sank within his range. "I mean, keep it up, but saint's blood you are an absolute terror." His cannon glowed, shoulder tight when he fired and sent the projectile rocketing upwards to erupt in a radiant blast. "Not fancy, but any port in a storm." He huffed, trying to chamber another round without releasing Perdita.

"There's so much." Perdita was shaking in Testin's grip. Molten gold trailed from her fingertips and every eye that shone through the veil was wide open.

Brand clambered across Testin's shoulders, the elderly man reaching out so he could grab one of her hands. "Listen to me, Perdie." He said loudly, trying to make sure she could hear him over the rapidly-approaching creak of timbers and warning system alarms. "You've got some kind of hellfiring power now, right?"

Perdita nodded slowly. "He's so loud." She breathed, and Brand knew with crushing certainty that she wasn't talking about himself or Testin.

"Aye, I'm sure he is. But if he wants to have you as his vessel, he needs to understand that you're the captain." Brand reasoned fiercely. "You bite back at that freeloader and you tell him you're the damned captain, you hear me girl?!"

×+×

I'm the captain.

Perdita clung to the thought, staggering through the red haze of her subconscious.

I'm the captain.

Alizarin nodded in acquiescence. "That you are, Aurelezra. For now. For this moment. What will you do?" He chuckled. "You are unfamiliar with such power. You have already overdrawn yourself. What will you do, Defender?"

It doesn't matter whether I'm tired. I'm the captain. Me. Not you, she thought stubbornly.

×+×

Perdita clawed her way up Testin's arm to his shoulder, the larger Warforged rumbling in confusion. "What the hell are you doing now?"

"I'm the captain." Perdita said sharply. Blast after golden blast was flung by her hand, the ship groaning under the assault. Timbers cracked and creaked like the ship was caught in a ferocious gale. "I'm the captain!" She yelled, "I'm the captain!"

The dreadnought rent itself apart at the scuppers with one final impact, briefly looking like the massive ribcage of some eldritch horror. The engines tore free of their mooring, the shriek of metal heralding doom for the trio as they plummeted downwards. Testin tried to backpedal, but he had built up such a head of steam and the engines were so enormous-

Brand fumbled to catch Perdita's hand once again, closing his eyes as he heard Testin grit out what he assumed was his final swear.

Looks like I'll be home soon, Lib.

"A Bastion for my faithful." That was not Perdita's voice. It was barely a whisper, smooth as silk and light as a favorable breeze. "Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have seen my power once before. Blessed are you, Brand Gentle, for you have survived my power once before. Blessed shall you be, Brand Gentle, though you do not believe."

A golden dome sheathed the triumvirate of individuals, millions of eyes scattered across it opening and closing at random. Brand gripped Perdita's hand as tightly as he dared, uncertain if he was the only one seeing this...wonder.

"Fear not, Brand Gentle. She will not be harmed."

The dome vanished and Testin fairly seethed with curses, the gray-green Warforged reeling back a step from the flaming wreckage of the engine that surrounded them. A neat circle had been sheared out from the dome, the edges still molten and smoking.

"That's it. Whatever's gotten into you, I'm tearing it out of you!" the paladin announced, grappling Perdita around the waist again. "Send that cosmic bastard back to the Deep Reef where it belongs, I-" He paused when she went limp in his hold, lowering his glowing right hand after a moment. "Uh...Perdie?" He asked warily, shaking her until she rattled. "Perdie?"

"I'm the captain." She responded, her voice reedy with exhaustion. Perdita reached out to Brand, and he carefully laced his fingers through her own. "I-I'm the...captain..."

"Aye child," Brand murmured, "that you are."

×+×

The whole colony banded together to scuttle the dreadnought's bones. The Vespertine sisters made themselves marvellously useful when it came to putting the dead to rest.

Most of the ship's crew had been slaughtered by whatever Perdita had done with that spell, and the few left alive had perished on impact.

Testin had grunted in satisfaction as he surveyed the red veiled sisters scurrying to and fro in the wreckage. "I think your Perdie just fired the galaxy's largest warning shot."

"Aye." Brand had agreed wearily. "Now all that's left to see is whether the Empire will take notice."

"Their dreadnoughts aren't usually...destroyed, Captain. Once word gets back to them, all hell's going to break loose." The Warforged predicted grimly, his arms folded over his chest. "You'd better make sure she clears atmosphere before they come back around."

"I don't think I could make her stay!" The former captain chuckled. "She's always been on the move, Testin. High time she did something with all that energy."

×+×

"The Gotengo has been moored for years, Captain. You think it can still hold up?" Testin mused, poring over the old schematics.

Brand sighed, raking a hand through his hair. "It's the finest craft I have at my disposal, dusty or not. And she'll need something nimble if she's planning on trekking out there through the blockades." He meandered to the window of his study, staring down at his rose garden without actually seeing it. "I've already gotten in touch with Squire Deering, and he claims he's found a slew of candidates for her crew."

Testin snorted in disbelief. "And you trust that penny-pinching miser? Guy probably trawled through three different wharfside taverns and asked for able-bodied seamen."

"Deering may be a...bit tight fisted, but he's a good man. I have great faith that when Perdita arrives, she'll be shown nothing but courtesy." Brand assured the gray-green Warforged, stroking his mustache.

"Correct me if I'm wrong, but I distinctly remember that waistcoat-wearing ponce saddling you with a ship that had a rotted out mainmast." Testin deadpanned. "What did he blame it on? Moths?"

Brand coughed awkwardly, clearing his throat. "Regardless, he will treat her right. Warforged or not, she's the captain."

"A new Captain Gentle." Testin shook his head ruefully. "Never thought I'd see the day. Bodes pretty shit for the Empire, if you ask me."

"All I hope is that she and that blooded saint first mate of hers give them hell."

[dannymayevent]

Oh, but I’m clearly destined to wander

Congratulations, @wholocksupersoupofpain, for completing all 31 days of Dannymay 2020!

Phic written by @bibliophilea for your Day 15 artwork - Favorite AU - because Space AU is such a phantastic AU, and what you did for it was inspiring.

Phic can also be found on ao3 and ffn.

Title from "Beautiful Times" by Owl City.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

She twirls and weaves, her long, braided hair following her every movement, her longer blue scarf flowing around her, floating gracefully in the vacuum of space.

There is a freedom in her dance that cannot be expressed with words. But there is also yearning - in the way she darts from one point in space to another, like a butterfly untethered by anything but its own whims - whims which pull her too and fro, restless in her longing for something new and exciting in the vast beyond.

Valerie watches from the airlock, helmet in hand, enchanted as she always is when she watches her lover dance. She notes the subtle desperation in the tension in Dani’s back - the longing in the way her legs smoothly launch her from nothing to nothing, in the way her arms point to stars and galaxies far, far away - and she smiles softly, sadly. She'll be leaving soon now.

Dani turns to the airlock, and waves excitedly at Valerie, waves at her to come join her in this dance. Valerie is quick to hide her sadness, and she puts on her helmet, locking it in place before venting the airlock.

She twists open the lock and pushes the door open, joining Dani in the great beyond, the vastness that is space.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

Her giggles echo in the small living space of the spacecraft, the only home she’s ever known. She spins and spins, bumping into the walls and the ceiling and the floor before she trips and flips into her father’s lap.

"Careful, my little comet," her father says, their secret language humming and clicking in her ears. He smiles fondly down at her, and she giggles, floating up to give him a kiss on his forehead.

"Yes, papa!" she dutifully answers, before darting away, her giggles and her long, blue scarf trailing in her wake as she spins and spins again, doing her best to emulate the graceful twirls of the woman in the flickering holovid.

The woman smiles at no one as she flickers, and she speaks in their secret language, voice soft and gentle, yet commanding attention.

"When we spin, we spin with our core, the same way our home spins - the core of our planet pulling the surface with it, pulling us all with it into a celestial dance which guides us in our journey through the universe."

Dani stops spinning to listen, attention rapt upon the woman, before smiling widely and spinning again. She doesn’t see the way her father’s smile cracks, the way his eyes shine with tears before he wipes them away.

She does notice when he floats to the center of the room and pauses the holovid, staring at the flickering image of the woman. Her smile is radiant, deep black hair floating mid-twirl, eyes shining with joy. Dani’s father stares into her eyes.

"It’s time to say goodnight to mama," he tells Dani. Dani looks between the holovid and her father’s eyes, wrinkled in sadness even as he smiles gently. She nods quietly, and floats up to the woman’s face, and kisses her on the forehead. The flickering image tingles her lips.

"Goodnight, mama," she says, before turning to her father and hugging him hard.

"I love you, papa," she says in their secret language.

Her father huffs in surprise, before wrapping his arms around her, burying his face in her hair.

"I love you, too, my little comet."

*~*~*

Dani dances.

She twirls and weaves through the club, almost floating effortlessly between people as she dances, flitting between dance partners like a bee collecting pollen from one set of flowers before flying to the next. The white highlights in her skin tight jumpsuit and her loosely braided hair shine in the ever changing lights of the dance hall - purple, then red, then blue, then green flashing and fading into each other in time with the music. The black in her hair reflects the lights above her, but not as brightly; the black in her suit is nearly invisible in the throng of bodies and low light, hiding the motions of her lower legs and lower arms as she dances through the crowd - hiding her hands as they filter through the pockets of dancers, picking out wallets and coins and credits before stashing them in one of the many hidden pockets in her suit.

She glances at the bar for the fifth time in as many minutes, and this time makes herself hold eye contact with the beautiful woman staring at her. The woman’s red jumpsuit seems to change color in the low, changing light, and the black, reflective highlights accentuate the curves of her muscles and body. Her dark, curly hair is cropped short, geometric designs buzzed along the sides of her head. But what captivates Dani the most are her eyes. They are bright green - almost as green as Dani’s own eyes - and though they’re hard now, they shine with a life Dani can’t help but drink in, can’t help but want to explore.

She dances over to the bar and props herself up against it, smiling a winning smile at the woman in red.

"Can I buy you a drink?" Dani asks sweetly.

"Only if you can tell me whose credits you’re using," the woman replies, raising an eyebrow.

Dani doesn’t miss a beat. "Phillip McCarthy. I’m sure he won’t miss it."

The woman’s other eyebrow raises to join the first. The McCarthy’s are notorious for their smuggling operations in this sector of the galaxy - anything from drugs to artifacts to people. If it sells, chances are the McCarthy’s have a say in where it goes. Phillip in particular is known for his ruthlessness. Heir to the smuggling kingdom and drunk on his mother’s wealth and power, he goes where he wants and brings the party with him. Few who cross him live to tell the tale; the rest speak only to the coroners, and only speak of terrible, painful death.

The woman glances to the dance floor, where McCarthy drunkenly grinds and bellows to the music in the spotlight, surrounded by his posse - pilot fish seeking out a taste of that spotlight, that wealth, that power. She seems to make a decision, and her eyes soften as she lets out a low whistle, cracking a smile. "Ballsy. I’ll drink to that."

Dani lets out a breath she didn’t know she was holding, and can’t help but grin. She waves down a bartender. "Two fireflies. On me."

She scans the credits, then turns back to find the woman staring at her. She notes the blush in her cheeks, and her grin turns sly. "Like what you see?"

The woman sputters. "W-what? No, no way, um, not that you’re not gorgeous or anything, I just - I didn’t come here for - look, can I get a name from the beautiful woman who just bought me a drink?"

Dani laughs, and feels her own cheeks blush green. Who knew a woman with such a confident stare could be so cute?

"It’s Dani," she chuckles. "And what can I say, I see a beautiful woman staring at me, how can I not buy her a drink?"

The woman frowns. She opens her mouth to retort, but a purple arm comes between them, hand adorned with expensive rings pressed against the bar. Dani looks up and sees Phillip McCarthy doing his best to loom over them despite his swaying stature. More intimidating is his posse - all in varying stages of drunkenness, but none as drunk as McCarthy, and there are a lot of them.

McCarthy squints his eyes at Dani. "You stole from me." Then he smirks. "But you’re new around here, aren’t you? Tell you what - I’ll let it slide if you do a little dance with me." He leans in close, and Dani wrinkles her nose at the stink of liquor on his breath. "I’ll show you what a real McCarthy can do for you."

"No thanks." Dani puts a hand on his chest and pushes him away. He stumbles back, surprised by her strength. Then he growls, stepping back towards her.

"Hey bitch, do you know who I am? I could make your life a living hell - you stole from me." He forces his face into a smile. "But I’m a nice guy. I can be forgiving. I’ll give you one last chance to do the right thing."

McCarthy grabs Dani’s arm, and Dani glares. Who is he to touch her like that? Before she can act, the woman in red grabs the hand that grabbed her, just above the wrist.

"Let her be, McCarthy. She was just about to return those credits. Right?" the woman side-eyes Dani hard. Dani rolls her eyes and pulls the credits from a secret pocket with her free hand, flicking them at McCarthy.

McCarthy‘s face sours. The credits bounce off his chest, and one of his posse picks them up. "Stay out of this, Gray," he snarls. "This is about respect. And I’m gonna teach her a lesson."

His hand tightens painfully on Dani’s arm, and Dani hisses. She feels the woman - Gray - tense beside her. Gray peels the hand from Dani’s arm and twists, earning a squawk from McCarthy, before shoving him back into his posse.

"I said, let her be." Gray growls.

McCarthy’s face twists in drunken rage, and he rounds on Gray. "How dare you-"

Dani kicks him in the throat, and he chokes, eyes wide with surprise, crumpling backwards to the floor.

Shit. She didn’t mean to kick him that hard - just hard enough to get him to shut up and back off from Gray. She stares wide-eyed at his crumpled form, barely able to hear Gray’s voice over the pulsing of her core in tune with her heart. He’s gotta be alright - she doesn’t know what she’ll do if she did any permanent damage, or worse, killed him-

McCarthy coughs harshly and works himself to his elbows. He stares up at his posse. They stare back. Then he flushes bright pink and points, croaking, "Get them."

Gray springs into action, fighting down the part of the posse closest to the door. They’ll never make it that way - not with more of the posse gathering by the door, ready to catch them should they make it past the first wave. Four of them turn on Dani, and she leaps into action, sweeping her foot out and spinning, knocking them away from her and clearing a path to the dance floor. She grabs Gray’s wrist, startling the woman.

"This way!" Dani shouts, and pulls Gray into the crowd.

Gray pulls against Dani’s grip. "There’s no exit that way!"

Dani pauses for a second, locking eyes with Gray. She smiles confidently. "Trust me."

Gray holds her gaze, then grins and nods. She twists her wrist and suddenly they’re holding hands, Gray a half-step behind Dani as they navigate the crowd together - Dani twirling and dancing between dancers and posse alike, Valerie twirling with her and taking down McCarthy’s people as they flee. They operate in sync, as if they’ve known each other for longer than five minutes, and Dani revels in the feeling. This is better than dancing on her own, better than dancing with a throng of bodies in time to the music - this is the most alive she’s ever felt.

The crowd thins, and she guides Gray to the back of the warehouse, dodging security. The back wall is lined with small windows 20 feet above the floor. They should be closed, but Dani knows for sure that one of them is open to the night air. As they approach the wall, she grins at Gray and lets go of her hand, putting on a burst of speed to reach it first. She kneels below the open window, holding out her hands to give Gray a boost.

Gray smiles at the move, kicking off of one of McCarthy’s men and using the forward momentum to sprint to Dani. She leaps into Dani’s hands, and Dani throws her into the air, sending her soaring to the window. Gray grabs the window sill and pulls herself effortlessly through, out into the night.

Dani grins and stands, surveying the mix of McCarthy’s posse and club security running towards her. McCarthy himself has somehow made it to the front of the posse, and he stops and snarls upon seeing her. She grins cheekily and waves, making a show of jumping up to the window - not many people fly in this sector of the galaxy, she’s learned. She hears McCarthy screech some sort of profanity, and something about his mother, as she pulls herself through, dropping to the next roof and picking up her backpack in a single, graceful movement. She takes a moment to look upwards, at the night sky.

The sky is only partially covered by clouds, a dark expanse faintly speckled with unfamiliar constellations where the clouds don’t touch. The light pollution from the surrounding city drowns out most of the black and stars, but she can just see Wolf 359 peaking out from behind a cloud. She smiles. Maybe she’ll head there next.

"You gonna stand there all night?"

Dani starts and turns to see Gray, eyebrow raised, but hand held out towards her. She blushes and grins, stepping forward to take her hand. This time, Gray leads, guiding Dani off the roof and through the streets and alleyways, away from the club and into the darkness.

They only stop for breath when they’re sure they aren’t followed. It’s then that Gray lets go of Dani’s hand, walking along a street and staring at the ground. Dani’s about to ask what she’s looking for when she suddenly stands up straight, turning back to Dani, hand outstretched.

"Hand over the credits," Gray demands.

"What? No!" Dani scoffs. "That’s like, half my haul!"

Gray rolls her eyes. "You can keep the rest. I don’t know where you’re from, but around here, credits are traceable."

Dani sighs, but does as she’s told. Gray shoves the credits down the sewer grate next to her. So that’s what she was looking for.

"The sewer flows downriver," she says. "You should head in the opposite direction, towards the space port." She points a thumb behind her, down the alleyway. "That’s where you’re headed, right?"

Dani gapes at her. "How did you-"

Gray raises an eyebrow. "It’s like McCarthy said - you’re not from around here. And you’ll need to get off planet now that you’ve pissed off Mr. High and Mighty."

Dani winces. "Sorry about that, Gray. But what about you?"

Gray smirks. "I can handle him. I’ve been doing it for years. Oh, and the names Valerie. It’s what my friends call me."

"Valerie." Dani tests the name out on her tongue. It feels right. She beams up at Gray - no, Valerie - and then bounces up to her. She caresses Valerie’s cheek with one hand, and kisses her chastely on the corner of her lip.

"Thank you, Valerie," she whispers in her ear.

And then she bounds away, dancing through streets and alleyways, climbing to the rooftops, almost flying as she careens upriver, towards the space port.

*~*~*

Dani dances.

Valerie dances.

They meet again, multiple times in both of their travels. And they dance.

And they dance.

And they dance.

*~*~*

Valerie dances.

She pushes off from the airlock, gliding into her lover’s arms. Together they twirl in the vastness of space, the stars and ship revolving around them, but they only have eyes for each other. Then Dani smiles, and kisses the top of Valerie’s helmet, and spins away from Valerie.

Valerie’s suit stabilizes her spinning with a thought, and she spins more slowly now, tracking Dani as she twirls through space, with Valerie at the center - Valerie at her center. She doesn’t know how, or why, but she’s managed to capture the most beautiful comet in the world. She is somehow the force which pulls Dani from shooting aimlessly through space - the star about which Dani orbits. Valerie is Dani’s star, and Dani is Valerie’s comet. Wherever their paths may lead, whichever outer reaches of space Dani flings herself to, Valerie knows that she will always, always come back to her.

Dani comes in for a hug, and they spin together, staring into each other’s eyes, naught but plexiglass and atmosphere and the vacuum of space between them. No one but themselves for hundreds of miles.

"I love you, my comet," Valerie says in Dani’s secret language.

Dani’s smile widens, and her eyes shine with the light of a home she’s never known - a home she chooses to make herself, with Valerie at her center.

"I love you too, my star."

[rowanstories-blog]

The Weight of Wealth

"C'mon man, what are you, chicken?"

Austin scoffed. "If you're a chicken, I'm a worm, because I'll eat you for breakfast!"

The girl beside him, Emma, paused for a second. "Do chickens eat worms?"

He paused and shrugged. "I don't know, I'm just calling you a worm."

"Jackass."

"You started it."

She rolled her eyes and got back to pushing the crowbar into the bottom of the window, wedging it into the tiny space in the wood. "Just keep watch, okay?"

"Yeah, yeah," he mumbled, continuing his lookout over the expansive backyard property. No one on Earth needed a lawn garden with a fountain, let alone three. If there were a competition between rich people on the most pointless things to buy, the win would be a tie between this backyard and a lake filled only with 'diet water.' He'd be happy to settle for an average richness, the type where you can buy whatever you like from a restaurant without looking at the prices.

A sudden crack behind him made him jump a bit.

Emma snickered. "Chicken." She put the plain white mask over her face and carefully jumped through the now-open window.

Austin grumbled a bit. He hated working with Emma, but no one could get a window open quite like her. He grabbed the mask, a simple white mask you'd find at a party store for kids to decorate, and put it on before following her through the window of the mansion.

When he entered, his vision filled with valuables strewn all over the room. Fancy furniture, works of art on the walls, and table fixtures from all across the world were only some of the things that caught his attention.

"We don't want to make a mess," Emma whispered, repeating the obvious. "Only grab things you don't think she'll miss."

"How could someone so rich miss anything," Austin wondered aloud, pulling his heist bag over his shoulder to his side.

The two wandered the dark house quietly, using only a single light to investigate their surroundings. They had good intel that the one Miss Kaliel was away in the Bahamas for the week, and her butler and cleaning staff had Tuesdays off, but being careful wasn't optional. If they let themselves get lazy on one heist, they could slip up on another.

"Move quiet, grab fast, get rich," Austin chanted quietly, echoing their group's mantra.

Emma laughed to herself. "We do this heist whenever she's gone for the next few months and we'll do just that."

They grabbed only what looked extraneous, which was tough for Austin considering everything looked that way to him. Some extra silverware, a few small paintings from the hall, table decorations on tables crammed full of them, and more went into the pair's heist bags as they moved from room to room.

The final room they decided to investigate was the bedroom; grabbing anything from a bedroom was a larger risk since people tend to store very valuable items in there, but then again, valuable items were, well, valuable. Grabbing a pair of earrings or two probably wouldn't arouse any suspicion.

Emma and Austin split up, both taking one half of the room to quickly search through. Austin's half had the walk in closet, and while he had no doubt some of the clothes were of some value, he had no idea which ones those could be. He considered asking Emma, but she'd probably just insult him somehow. He decided to leave it be. He turned to exit, but a hanging jacket caught on his hand and yanked the flashlight from his hand, sending it onto the floor with a thud.

"Dumbass! Be careful!"

Austin ignored Emma's scolding, kneeling down to grab the flashlight. As he moved it up, he noticed a glinting as the path of light moved from under the bed. He waved the flashlight a little bit more, and the glinting continued.

"Okay, I'm pretty sure this necklace is safe to grab. Are you done yet?"

"One second," he mumbled, approaching the bed. He pulled up the sheet on the side to find only one object under it: a golden turtle, with a shell made from gemstones. The eyes sparkled with rubies, and strange glyphs wrapped around the gemstone shell, carved in a spiral.

"Come on, slowpoke, it's time to get going. Follow me or the window's getting shut on you." Emma darted out of the room on silent feet.

Austin threw the turtle into his bag and followed close behind.

---

"Nice haul, very nice!" The room chattered with agreement as Emma and Austin presented their grabs from the Kaliel mansion to their heist group.

"This painting is an original Heredia," one of them mumbled, investigating a picture of a landscape in a bronze frame.

"And these are quite beautiful, from Italy I presume," another remarked, investigating some vases.

"Is there anything else?" Their group leader, Marcus, looked less than impressed. "I mean, this is the Kaliel mansion after all."

Austin cleared his throat, interrupting Emma's would-be response. "I was able to find this. Hidden, but not something that would be missed." He drew the final object out of his bag: the golden gemstone turtle.

The room fell silent as the single overhead light made the gems shine with a surreal beauty, making colored shapes on the table around the turtle figure. Marcus' eyes widened, and despite his inability to smile, Austin knew he was impressed.

"When did you get that," Emma whispered accusingly through gritted teeth.

Austin shrugged with a teasing smile, which only annoyed her further, to his great amusement.

"Now this," Marcus said as he lifted the turtle, "is a find! One of these gems alone is probably worth at least a grand. Edmund." He pointed at one of the group members, who shot to attention. "Try to figure out these symbols, see if you can find an origin country. If this is some kind of restored ancient artifact, it'll be worth all the more."

---

Several weeks later, Emma and Austin were again outside of the Kaliel mansion, prying their favorite window open with Emma's favorite crowbar.

Austin tried to lean back on the wall during lookout, but his aching shoulders made it too uncomfortable to bear. The soreness in his shoulders and back had begun to even affect his sleep in the past weeks; sleeping on his back caused the pain to get worse, but he always felt like he was suffocating if he slept on his stomach. He didn't dare tell that to Marcus, though. The heists were paying more in a night than a regular job did in a month, and he refused to miss one for something as absurd as sensitive skin.

The crack of the opening window sounded out once more, but Austin didn't jump this time. He sneered at Emma, knowing that his resolve took away part of her fun. She jumped in through the window with her usual ease, and Austin went to follow suit. When he tried to jump off the ground, however, it felt as though he was carrying two Austins worth of weight through the air. He had to grab the edge of the window and force his way in with the grace of a baby rhino.

"Wow, what a fumble," Emma chuckled.

Austin shook off both the fall and her comment. "Let's just find some more stuff."

"You got it, Captain Fumble."

The two began their search once more for anything the mansion's owner wouldn't miss. They grabbed some books from the library, a few more sets of silverware, and Emma even figured out which pair of heels was nice enough to grab but bland enough for their owner to forget.

As they went through the halls, Austin felt the weight on his back growing. He was used to carrying a good amount of weight from the hauls, but this weight felt entirely different. His legs strained a bit on the stairs trying to keep up with Emma, and his brow started to sweat. Emma stopped several times to give him a chance to catch up with her as she darted with her usual speed.

"Dude, what's wrong with you? 'Move quick,' remember? Are you sick or something?"

"No, I-"

A sound echoed through the mansion, an all too familiar and heart-wrenching sound: the sound of an opening front door.

"Fuck!" Emma whispered harshly.

The two of them were around the middle of the third floor. They couldn't go down the front staircase, but certainly a mansion so large had more than one staircase, right?

"There's a back stair for the hired help," Emma said, as if responding to his thoughts. "Let's go, quickly!" She turned off her light and sped into the darkness.

Austin tried to run with her, but his legs refused. Each step felt like walking through a foot of muck, and if that wasn't hard enough, he also felt as though he strapped a boulder to his back. The slowness reminded him of nightmares where the dreamer had to run from an impending horror, but found themselves trapped in slow motion.

He made it to the stairs, legs about to give out. He knew they wouldn't move any more at their current carrying capacity.

"Emma," he called, as quietly as he could while still trying to get her attention.

After several terrifying seconds Emma reappeared from the darkness below. "Bastard, move your- woah, are you okay?"

He shook his head.

"Fuck, okay, uh... give me your bag, I think, no, I know I can carry it."

Her small frame showed otherwise, but Austin saw no other options. She slid up behind him and grabbed the bag, placing it on her other side and giving her the look of a pack mule. He felt his load lighten, but he still felt a painful weight on his back.

"Grab on to me, we're walking together."

The two took each step one at a time, hearts pounding. Emma's steps made no sound as usual, but Austin could hear each of his own steps with frightening clarity.

After what felt like eternity, the two made it back to the open window. It took a great deal of effort for Austin to move himself the small distance up and out of it, but somehow they managed to get out and back to the road, where their ride waited for them in the brush. Emma barked at the driver to drive, and he, hearing the reigned in panic of her voice, slammed on the gas.

---

Emma and the driver had to carry Austin into the hideout, where Marcus and the others waited for the usual heist report. When they saw the two carrying him on their shoulders, they cleared a table and let Austin fall onto his stomach on top of it. The group clamored up around him, asking if they had been stabbed or shot.

"What the hell," Marcus said, unsure whether to be enraged or worried.

"Something's wrong with him," Emma explained. "He could barely make it out of the mansion. And now there's blood, but we didn't get hurt or anything!"

"My back..." Austin whispered through strained breaths. The suffocating feeling of being on his stomach felt ten times worse than ever before, and his back felt as though it were ripping in two.

Marcus shooed the growing crowd away from the table, pulling out a pocket knife. "Okay, let's see what we've got here." He hooked a finger around his collar to pull it up and placed the knife under it, drawing it down and cutting the length of his shirt in two. The two sides of fabric fell away, and the room filled with gasps and murmurs.

Austin forced his head up and around to see. Out of the corner of his eye, he saw a solid slab of blue taking up his right shoulder, glinting in the single light.

"Are those..."

"...gemstones?"

The crowd immediately swarmed around Austin, poking and rubbing the protrusions on his back. Each hand made Austin wince and yell out in pain, but the group didn't notice his cries over their complete fascination.

"Enough!" Marcus called out. The crowd snapped out of their frenzy and moved back again. "Edmund, help Austin wash off and take him to the sick bay. Frank, help carry Austin." No one moved. "Now!"

The two called names grabbed Austin and pulled him off of the table, leading him to the back stairway.

"While that's being settled," Marcus said calmly, sitting in his usual spot, "Emma, go over your finds, if you please."

---

Austin laid on his side in the sick bay, trying to find a balance between lying on the protrusions and feeling suffocated by them. As the others were washing him off, he saw himself in the mirror: his entire back, from shoulder to ass, was covered in large plates of color. They looked and felt exactly like gemstones, despite the fact that they erupted from skin rather than earth. Frank had spent an uncomfortable amount of time polishing these plates after the wash, but thankfully he left to give Austin some time alone to rest. He didn't get any rest, of course, but he appreciated being given the chance.

Marcus and Frank entered the bay, Frank holding a large brown suitcase with some struggle.

"How are you doing?" Marcus took a seat next to the bed as Frank moved out of Austin's view, shuffling through something.

"Hurt like a bitch before, but lying on my side seems somewhat okay," Austin answered honestly. "But like... what the fuck? What's happening to me?"

"Well," Marcus said with a chuckle, "it looks like you've got a gemstone shell now. Don't ask me how, I'm no scientist or man of faith. I'm a realist, and that's the reality of what's happening."

Austin was surprised by Marcus's ability to accept the completely irrational with a straight face. His calm and accepting-of-reality demeanor had made him the perfect leader of the heist group, but it felt much stranger in this context.

"Can it be fixed," Austin mumbled, unsure of why he'd bother asking a question no one knew the answer to.

"We're about to find out."

Before Austin could respond, Marcus got up and rolled him onto his stomach. The weight of the stones forced him into the bed, unable to move.

"Don't move," Frank warned, "or this'll hurt more than it probably will."

A loud bang rang out through the room, and Austin felt a piercing pain in his shoulder. He managed to turn his head just in time to see Frank wielding a metal spike and hammer, the spike aimed at the stone in his shoulder and the hammer rising into the air.

He tried to protest, but the hammer flew down again, jolting his entire body with pain. He couldn't take more than a couple hits until his head swam, making him lose consciousness.

---

That experience made Austin and the rest of the group learn two things: one, that the gemstones from Austin's body were the real deal, and could be mined; and two, that the stones would return to their shell-like thickness after several days.

"Don't worry," Marcus assured him one night, rubbing the gemstone on his shoulder. "You're getting a very good cut of this. Do you know how much you're worth now?"

The group would bring Austin extravagant food and other niceties from the outside to the sick bay, and while he appreciated the gesture, he simply didn't enjoy any of it. The food tasted bland and the gifts seemed hollow compared to the weight on his back that felt heavier and more suffocating with each time it recovered from Frank's mining.

"Maybe this one will be the last one," Frank commented once again. Every time he went to mine over the past several weeks, without fail, he'd make a remark like this. Austin knew no one believed it, but he didn't respond.

"Hold on one second with that," Marcus requested, shining the plates a little more with his new gold-embroidered handkerchief.

Frank moved away from the bed. He made a motion to lean on the wall, but winced in pain and quickly moved away.

Marcus got up from leaning over very slowly, straining against an invisible weight. "There we go, perfect. Okay, Frank, be sure to be thorough. We need all the gemstone we can get."