#the image of a soft friendly Commander throws people for a loop

[uselessidiotsquad]

Hiya question time :D from the commander asks pt.2: 3, 4, 11 and 19?

Thank you :D I appreciate the asks! Went with Ruby since she's my active Commander!

3. Who is your commander’s bestfriend?

This works for either of them! Ruby's best friend is Riaghael and Riaghael's best friend is Ruby. They care each other <3

4. Does your commander have any pets? (Yes, mounts count!)

More pets than sense at times! To name a few: Akka - her bear, Arura - the iboga, Aeren - the fernhound. Hart - the stag (HC that the White Stag in the player story grows into the Primal Spirit jackal skin, which becomes Ruby's close friend and primary mount). She does have a veritable army of pets. Oh and Barty, the fernhound puppy.

11. What is the first impression your commander gives off?

People tend to go "Wait SHE'S the Commander?!" Because she doesn't give off a big, bold, impressive vibe. She's friendly, bubbly, and chatty. She's also rather on the short side and is usually messing with food. Not what one would expect from a slayer of gods and dragon champion.

19. What did your commander think of Joko?

She didn't absolutely hate him. He was annoying at times, yes, but part of her thought that he was amusing in a way. She's used his name as a swear occasionally, to the great amusement of Sigilis (who is determined to teach her as many insults, foul words, and creative manners of filth that she can).

[appreciate-kaimaki]

Could I request headcannons for SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki and SHSL Nurse Kaito?

Thank you, anon, for sending us our first AU/talentswap ask! This one was such a joy to write! I had to think a lot to make a scenario where a biker gang leader and a nurse could meet and grow closer together, but the ideas really started to flow pretty soon. And in the end, it became the longest piece I've ever written on this blog... so long, in fact, that I converted it into a full fanfic! Did I do your idea justice? What do you think? Your fic is under the cut, so please enjoy!

~Mod Shuichi~

Maki Harukawa is the roughest, toughest, most ruthless gangster the world has ever seen, standing at the very peak of street hierarchy and feared not only by the other gangs (many of whom are double her age) but also the police themselves. She routinely prowls the streets with her gang, clad in her signature red and black leather jacket with a dagger strapped to her thigh and revving her bike's custom engine as loudly as she can as she tears through the streets like the queen of the road she is. And this would have been like any other day, had a rival gang led by Shirogane Tsumugi not decided to mount a sneak attack on her to 'reclaim the streets'. Two of her goons got a van and t-boned Maki's bike in an intersection in a very underhanded move.

They should have known better. Maki Harukawa does not go down that easily - and even if she can't fight them right now herself, her well-trained subordinates are lightyears better than Shirogane's bear-handed misfits. Still, she knows she'd be dead if it weren't for her natural agility and reflexes, and she also knows she's extremely lucky to have gotten off on just a broken arm and leg.

She's rushed to the hospital and Korekiyo, her second-in-command, drops by with some of her gang members to check up on her once the operation's over. Maki tells him not to mind her too much, and to go wage war on Shirogane and her band of idiots instead. He heeds the command with much gusto, but not before pre-paying her bills to the best service the hospital can afford. Never say crime doesn't pay, she muses.

(Other gang leaders would be worried about their second-in-commands usurping their rule while they're out of commission. Not Maki, though. She knows her subordinates like the front of her hand, and they will never betray her while she's still alive.)

Now that she is effectively relieved from duty, the only thing left to do is to rest and mend her bones. Easy, huh?

Apparently not, as the personal nurse assigned to her is the single most annoying human being she has ever seen. His spiky purple hair and goatee clash horribly against his scrubs, and every fifth word out of his mouth is a space pun. He also doesn't appear to be intimidated by her at all - doesn't he know who she is? Any hope that he would be somewhat tolerable is dashed to pieces like her bike when he immediately gives her a despicable nickname in the first minute they meet.

"Hi, I'm Kaito Momota!" he announces way too jovially to someone who just had two limbs wrapped in a cast. "I'll be your nurse for the next four months. Nice to meet you, Miss Maki Roll!"

"Maki Roll?!"

He then proceeds to spend the next three hours explaining how he made her that nickname (because her first name is Maki, you see, and his mom just so adores his maki rolls that it's become a reflex whenever he sees the word, oh did he mention that he makes some wicked maki rolls?) and Maki is ready to either strangle him or rip her own hair out of her scalp when Momota is finally called away by intercom. The reprieve is short-lived, however, as the purple idiot barges back in a mere ten minutes later, ready to torture her with more bad puns and incessant storytelling. At this point, Maki would rather strangle herself. One thing is clear: she cannot take this for four effing months. She'd go mad by the second week.

She takes advantage of one of his bathroom breaks to flag down a passing doctor, a lady with deep purple hair and lavender eyes (was purple hair a thing in medical personnel these days?), and begs her to get her a different nurse, a doctor she could talk to, anyone other than Kaito goddamned Momota.

The doctor, 'Mikan Tsumiki' according to her nameplate, apparently cannot understand Maki's adverse reaction. "B-but didn't your friend ask for the best we had?", she replies quizzically. And right then and there Maki learns from Doctor Tsumiki that Kaito Momota the imbecile in purple is in fact the Super High School Level Nurse what the hell?!

"Everyone's so energetic and cheerful after meeting him," Doctor Tsumiki continues, and Maki can barely contain her incredulousness. Momota chooses that moment to reappear, and Doctor Tsumiki excuses herself. Maki forces herself to think for the best - if he's the Ultimate Nurse, at least he'll be good at treating her enough for her to ignore his prattling.

And he is very good at his job, indeed. He can change her casts without her feeling a single thing. He's always ready on call in case she needs anything, and he's making a visible effort to ramble less after the first few days. He still doesn't seem to acknowledge at all that he's treating the number one gangster in town, though.

He knows who she is. He'd be an actual idiot if he didn't, considering her name still shows up on the news at least once a week (including the report on her 'accident').

Yet he is still as friendly and, dare she say it, charming as the first time he met her. (What? He is annoying, but there is a certain charm to him.) It's nice, but it's also scary. If what he's showing her is a facade, it's a better mask than any she has ever worn and she's terrified of it.

One day she just goes 'fuck it' and decides to ask him herself. Time in the hospital is supremely boring, so Maki can at least blame the situation for her curiosity getting the better of her. She puts on her best game face and calls him over.

"Hey, Momota."

"Yes, Maki Roll?"

"Do you know who I am?"

"Well, duh." He gestures to her patient card at the foot of the bed. "Why wouldn't I? Maki Harukawa, the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. I'm not that stupid, you know."

"Then why aren't you scared of me? Why do you keep trying to get closer? Do I look like a joke to you?"

There. She said it. Now all she needs is answers.

Kaito pulls up a chair and plonks himself down on it. His eyes have a serious look she's never seen before as he opens his mouth.

"I'd be lying if I wasn't a little bit scared. Your eyes have that look down pat. But I'm not gonna let that bother me. At all."

"Why?"

"I became a nurse because I wanted to help people, make them happier and healthier, and I won't stop just because some lady has an unconventional job. The queen of England could be sitting here right now and I'd treat her exactly the same way. To me, you're not Maki Harukawa the gangster. You're Maki Harukawa, the girl with a broken arm and leg."

Maki is thrown for a loop at his words. Nobody had ever considered her identity seperate from her title before. No one has ever treated her like everyone else before. The nerve, part of her mind screams. It's kindness, another part yells back. Maki thinks the latter is more likely.

And as she's thinking, the idiot just has to add, "Plus, I think you're kinda cute."

She takes pleasure in watching Momota duck to avoid the pen she throws at his face.

As the days pass by, she finds herself opening up more and more to Momo... Kaito. (He had insisted upon calling him that, reasoning that they weren't strangers anymore. He wasn't wrong, so she obliged.) As the SHSL Biker Gang Leader Maki is used to a life of hushed voices and fearful glances whenever she shows up, and she deals with it because being the top of the food chain means she has to keep her image intact. But Kaito is different. She feels like she can be actually personal with Kaito, in a way even Korekiyo cannot provide. Maybe it's because whatever she tells him, he doesn't judge - he just listens.

He listens to her past as an orphan, tossed from foster home to foster home. He listens to her recounting the brutal world of street crime and how it burned her childhood into ashes. He listens to what she feels about Korekiyo, how she's grateful for him because he was her first real friend. She can tell he's genuinely interested in whatever it is she's saying.

And then, when she's done talking, he'll share something about himself. He used to want to be an astronaut, before deciding his talents would better be used helping the sick and injured. His best friend is the SHSL Detective (one of them, at least). He helped set him up with his crush the SHSL Pianist, and they've been dating for almost a year. He can actually make some delicious maki rolls. (He brought some over one day to share with her at lunch and she's never tasted a better roll. Maybe the nickname isn't too bad after all?)

It's all very new to her, and Maki is both unnerved and excited by it at the same time. One thing is sure, though - it feels very good to have someone who understands her.

The four months are gone in a flash, and soon Kaito is removing the last pieces of her leg cast as she reads a text from Korekiyo saying he'll head over to pick her up. Maki steals a glance at the nurse busying himself with the cast saw. Is it too sentimental to think that she'd like to see him some more? First impressions aside, she's really grown attached to him - and a part of her wonders if that attachment could become something more. Dammit, Maki thinks. She's been away from action for too long. She must have gone soft. Lost in thought, she jumps in surprise when Kaito's face abruptly fills her field of vision.

"Earth to Maki Roll," he says, "As I was saying, your arm and leg have mended splendidly, so you'll be cleared in the next hour - so I got you a good health present!"

He hands her a bundle wrapped in glittery purple wrapping paper. She tears it open, only to find... her old jacket?

It's not her old jacket. Her old jacket got shredded to ribbons in the crash and they had to throw it away. But this one, also black leather with crimson highlights but shiny new, fits her perfectly in both style and size.

"I saw the interns throwing out your jacket the day you got here. I guessed you might miss it, so I got you a new one. It's not the exact same model, but..."

"How did you know my size?"

"You're joking, right? You went through more than a hundred hospital gowns. Of course I remembered." His smile is blinding, and Maki can't help but give a small smile back in return. For a split second, as she holds the clearly heartfelt gift, all her emotions do battle debating what to do. She settles for hugging him awkwardly around the midsection with a muttered "Thank you."

"You're welcome! It wasn't a big deal, really." Kaito's smile is positively radiant as he hugs her back.

She could really get used to this.

NO. Stop it, Maki. You're the SHSL Biker Gang Leader. You have a reputation. You can't be this soft.

Speaking of soft, Kaito's shirt feels really soft...

Maki. STOP.

She recoils quickly, ducking to hide the blush on her face, and spits out "I bet you give presents to all the patients you treat!" to hide her embarassment only to immediately regret it when his face visibly falls.

"I'm not that kind of person, you know," he mutters, "you were the first time I bought someone something." It's the quietest she's ever seen him. Great, now she's the one feeling bad.

"I'm sorry," she whispers. Kaito gives her a small smile as he escorts her to the doctor's office. "It's okay. I guess I should tell you you're also the only one to get a nickname?"

She laughs out loud, and it feels good again.

True to Kaito's word, the doctor soon gives her the all-clear. He does, however, remind her to go easy on her limbs and keep doing physical therapy for at least another month.

Korekiyo is, true to his word, waiting for her just outside the door with a full brigade of riders in tow. As Maki strides out to meet him, he wordlessly hands her a cracked pair of glasses and a bloody ribbon. Maki grins as she inspects the trophies. Shirogane won't be bothering them anytime soon.

He beckons her to the new bike he just dismounted and mounts the one next to it, just behind the rider. "It's all yours, boss. Just out from the shop."

But before she can get on her new bike and leave, she is reminded of Kaito standing just a few steps behind her, his eyes fixed on her back. Maki's no mind-reader, but she can clearly see the thinly veiled longing etched in his face.

It should be a tough decision. She has a reputation to keep, control to reassume, and underlings to whip into shape, after all. But Maki didn't become queen of the road by doing what everyone expected her to do, did she? It's that moment she decides to do what she does best - follow what her heart tells her. She asks Korekiyo for a pen.

Kaito has decided he's stared enough and just turned to go back inside when Maki's voice rings out from behind him.

"Wait!"

He turns back around. Maki saunters toward Kaito, new jacket glinting in the sunlight. She leans in close to his ear.

"I might come back a few times for my physical therapy... surely you wouldn't mind walking me through the steps a few times?", she whispers, her warm breath tickling his ear. Pleasant shivers run through Kaito's spine.

Kaito gets the message. His smile could call the Sun too dark as he replies, "I'd love to!"

Pulling the boy close into a hug, Maki stuffs a note in his pocket and plants a quick kiss on his cheek before walking back to her bike and the waiting Korekiyo. A few throaty revs and a hand signal from Maki later, the bikes all zoom away leaving only a small cloud of fumes and some skid marks behind.

Left alone in the parking lot, Kaito fishes out Maki's note and opens it, pumping his fist when he sees its contents - a phone number underlined twice, with the name 'Maki Roll' written next to it. The short message below simply reads 'Call me'.

Back at their headquarters, Korekiyo dares to ask Maki about the purple-haired nurse she seemed quite close to. Her only reply is a smile and "Someone I can tolerate being close to."

[chamgomlem]

Fragility of Glass / Part 3 {Sanson}

His estimation was right, even though he was on the receiving end of the great power of the white lily. A silver line streaks downwards when the assassin had attempted to throw D’Eon off of her concentration, and in a way, he succeeded in backing her up from him. 

However-! Eyes widening in realization, it was too late. Sanson had stepped into a trap that the knight had set up for him: A glowing white lily that had snapped around his ankle, holding him in place and preventing movement. Brows furrowing, the executioner attempts to release its grip by giving his leg a good kick! 

The flower never budged once- in fact, its petals tightened even more so. The opportunity displaying itself before her, D’Eon jumped up into the air and released an array of pure blue and white light from her sword and chest. 

“May the Royal Family's Lily be eternal.” Her voice rippling with power, her eyes flashed open as she releases the purity of light with a direct thrust of her hand. 

“Fleur de Lys!” 

Droplets of white and blue cascade down all around Sanson, and he could not help but stand and watch as the seemingly innocent attack peppered itself around him. The harmless looking spouts of energy formulated into the mold of white lily buds. 

Another harsh yank backwards, and Sanson couldn’t avoid what was about to happen. The blossoming of the wondrous lilies brought forth a sudden drain on his own energy, making the executioner clutch onto his claymore in order to support his faltering weight. 

Tiredness washed over him, and before he could recover in the split second of weakness, the man was sent backwards by a heavy slash of D’Eon’s trustful rapier. 

CLANK-! The man’s sword hit the ground with a loud jolt as Sanson fell back. Like a lifeless doll, his energy had been drained dry and left him unmoving. His eyes, still open, were gazing up at the simulator’s sky. He had been bested and could not stop her phantasm, therefore this outcome was to be expected. 

The Queen would be so proud of her knight. 

Mustering the strength to sit up, Charles suddenly saw a hand reaching out to help him up. It was D’Eon, and her sword had been sheathed for now. Confused, but also grateful, Sanson accepted her hand and rose up to his feet. His gaze replaced the sense of defeat with acceptance. 

Then, he recalled his deal towards the knight, and his lips pressed tightly together.

Standing with each other for a quiet moment, Sanson sighed to himself. D’Eon did not say anything, but he knew that she was looking at him expectantly. She wanted an explanation. Why was he distracted during their fight. 

She deserved an answer. 

“Have you ever had a dream about someone before?” 

What a way to start off this conversation, because already D’Eon was giving him high raised brows. She was figuring where this was going, but Sanson quickly cuts in to throw that idea away. 

“For a few months, I have been having dreams about Marie. Dreams about her coming up to me, taking my hands, and dancing with me. Most would assume that, because we are here in Chaldea, that it would be her invading my dreams. However... this dream I have been having, I have been having it for multiple days. Months. The same thing happens.” A thoughtful frown on his face as he continues. 

“I can tell you what will happen in order. She comes up to me, taking my hands. I guide her, and we dance. We dance continuously, but we do not speak much...” As he trails off, a pained expression could be seen on his face. The confusion of a man that had no idea if what he was seeing in his dreams, and if it was real or not, confused him and threw him through a loop. 

“...Well...” D’Eon’s voice cuts in quietly. Obviously, by now, she was frowning. Her arms crossed, pose standing comfortably. “If it’s distracting you this much, then why have you not spoke of it to our Queen? Being distracted is one thing, but if this is something that has been happening for a while now, I would wonder if it was intentional or not.” 

“I don’t know how to approach her about it is all.” A soft sigh, and Sanson’s attention droops. How does one tell someone that they are dreaming about them doing something as intimate as dancing close together? Not only that, but he felt more. How could he describe this to one of Marie’s closest knights? 

"I am not good at discussing something this... close, with other people...” The man utters. It’s dumb, he knows it is, but he isn’t the best person to truthfully open up about a dream that has been stapled into his head for months on end. It leaves him longing for more, and that alone makes his heart clench with want. 

“Then just tell her. Tell her what you’re feeling at this moment and be truthful with her. She trusts you, so you have nothing to worry about.” The knight tossed the suggestion at the assassin. Her eyes fluttered to the side, a soft pout on her lips. It was easy to tell that the thought of Sanson approaching the queen with such an intimate question made her uneasy. A natural reaction for being the royal family’s protector and dedicated knight. 

She was right, though. Marie loved them all, and it was only fair that he would approach her as she approached him.

“You have to promise me something.” 

A promise? She trusted him enough to make a promise? Such a kind act made the executioner feel gratitude. A warm, bleeding sensation that sprawled out in his otherwise cold and empty chest. 

His attention is held by D’Eon’s, and her gaze alone catches him off guard. Instead of the indifferent friendly glimmer, he is seeing truthful seriousness. 

“If you make her cry, I will never forgive you.” The threat hung in the air between them both. D’Eon obviously protective of her Queen, while Sanson allowed for the warning to sink into him. 

Softening her gaze, D’Eon sighs. 

“Also, tell her. Tell her so that way you won’t be distracted. I would love to try to spar against you at your best.” A pause. “Please?” 

He couldn’t deny that plea. 

“I will do my best.” Since his best has bettered him compared to before. It was best to address such a distraction so that way he could appease himself and to give other people the attention they truly deserved. Training, fighting, or even his own side job included. 

- - -

If you make her cry, I will never forgive you. 

The words of the knight had echoed in his mind as he had silently made his way back to his room. He had been training and doing small tasks for Master while he was away, but still, it didn’t mean that the warning was still fresh in his mind. 

It made sense to him as to why she would give him such a warning. Even he did not enjoy the thought of tears streaming down the Queen’s face. In fact, such an image pained his heart. He had caused her trouble already during when he had been summoned under the commands of Jeanne Alter, and he silently vowed to himself that he would never do such a thing as long as he could help himself to. 

Finally closing himself off into his room and draping his coat along one of the chairs. The covers shifting when he had settled onto the bed, Sanson kicked his shoes off and laid down comfortably while allowing for his mind to dwell on the training session he had. 

He felt so tired. It had been a while since he fought for that long, and yet he still could not get the dream out of his mind like he had tried to. A light frown creasing his lips, the man lets out a sigh, and then his eyes finally close. Perhaps recharging some of his strength will help his buzzing mind. 

- - -

The same dream again, only this time, the Queen was wearing a dress suitable for a stroll on the beach. Its frills had caressed the black of his jacket as she approached him, her fingers already intertwining within his own as she gazed up at him. 

Eyes half-lidded, the assassin had pulled her close. His arm wrapping around her as he took the Queen and danced with her in a slow waltz. Her head on his chest, she smiled softly as he led them both to glide atop the endless array of white surrounding them both. 

Many would think that Sanson was the one that had Marie wrapped around his finger. The way she would simply treat him. The soft touches along his sleeve. The gentleness of her hands. Her smile that would grace upon her lips when her eyes would settle onto his own. 

In fact, it was false. Sanson was not the one that had her, but it was she who had him. He was the one that was uselessly wrapped around her finger, and he knew that he would not resist her. Sanson did not want to, for he knew that his heart will not allow for him to deny the love he had for her. 

“Marie...” 

Her name falls off his tongue like honey. Even though she does not look up at him as they continued dancing, he finds himself unable to look away from the Rider before him. 

“Marie... I...” 

His voice is drowned out. Muted. He cannot speak, only allow for their actions to do the speaking for them. Who cares if he could not ask her the questions brewing in his mind, all he cared about was that she was right in front of him. 

His tongue wet his lips, a nervous habit. His mouth is moving, but no words can be heard in the white of silence. 

I love you, Marie. 

{Part 1} {Part 2} {Part 3}

[solarmason-blog]

chasing, relentlessly || mclopez

WHO: Mason McCarthy & Santana Lopez ( @trickstersantana ) WHAT: McLopez duels & chats. WHERE: Undique and then the cafeteria. WHEN: February 25th, lunchtimeish. WARNINGS: Violence, disturbing imagery.

Mason twirled his shillelagh over in low, slow loops, his mind everywhere except Udique. It was with Marley, with Sebastian, with Quinn and Madison...he shook his head at himself. He needed to focus. Fighting with Santana was something he could do, and there was no pressure - he wasn't bringing his ego to this. Sabia stretched out next to him, giving a big yawn. "Same," Mason muttered to her. If he could sleep through all of his problems, he would, but he couldn't, so he kept stretching as he waited for Santana to arrive.

Santana arrived already tasting her next victory and waved at Mason. ​ Ugh, he fucking went with that stupid wolf. Gross.​ She though showing her disgust. "Well, are you ready to forget about other people's problem and just enjoy a friendly battle?" She asked, impatient to start. "Want to bet the ingredients we have so the winner takes all?"

Mason smiled a little and waved back, a chuckle escaping as she spoke. "San, I don't want to bet anything this time," Mason said, shaking his head. "But yeah. Let's get on with it. The sooner you beat me the sooner we can get pizza." Mason grinned faintly. Banter felt good, natural.

Santana shruged "It was worth a try" she said. At least she was going to get pizza anyway. "Any rules you want on the game, or everything is fair until someone surrenders?" she ask before starting.

Mason considered, but shook his head. "Till one of us surrenders." Sabia stood and Mason rolled his shoulders, stepping to his side of the arena. "Game on."

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 4

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 6

Mason shifted forward in the dirt. " <<Stones, rise and fly,>​>​" Mason commanded, his magic circle springing to life around his wrist. Stones emerged from the earth and flew toward Santana. He was frankly relieved his magic was even working, even if the stones weren't as big or as fast as he wanted them to be...

Santana easily dodged the stones while making a object-swap illusion so Mason shillelagh appeared to look as his fiddle "My my, still in love with that thing?" She said, just before also making the illusion of a little explosion to start on Mason's hand.

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 5

Mason didn't even have time to be bummed that his rocks totally missed--all of a sudden Fi, er, his fiddle, was in his hand and then she, er, it was exploding. Mason yelped and dropped it, scooting back a step - when he blinked, it was his shillelagh again. "Low blow," Mason said with a playful pout. "Maybe I should've made a rule against using embarrassing psychotrauma."

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 6

Santana laughs "You had your chance to make rules!" she said smiling while making some blue fire around Mason.

Mason laughed too, resisting his instinct to run from the fire. It's not real, he reminded himself. << "Extinguish these flames," >​>​ Mason abjured, and the fire died instantly, leaving the ground smoking at his feet.

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 2

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 6

Santana saw how her fake fire dissapeared but smiled anyway. The party was about to begin. She made a small mist around Mason, and added some small distant sounds of people sobbing, while some dark uncanney almost-human figures made of black mud appeared from the ground around him to get him.

Mason tried to remind himself that it wasn't real, that he was just in the stadium with Santana, but then one of those Things lunged at him and he didn't even have the wherewithal to defend himself, he just tripped over his feet to run away. His heart was hammering loudly in his chest - he didn't hate illusions the way Madison did, but Aether he didn't enjoy them, either. "Aether, Santana," Mason breathed, shaking his head slowly. He tightened his grip on his shillelagh and the malachite crystal glowed dimly; he felt slightly less like passing out now. Slightly. "Thanks for the new nightmare material, I was getting bored of the old ones."

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 1

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 3

Mason pulled a sigil stone from his pocket and threw it, without checking what it was - so he was surprised when it exploded midair into a bunch of confetti. "I...Don't even remember making that." Mason said, blinking slowly.

Santana keep smiling. "You are welcome!" she said with triumph "If you had nightmares, please, tell me, I will check that as another victory" she said turning the human mud figures into something even more off, like humans turning into monsters, and they keep going for Mason. "Nice confetti, perfect for parties" she noted.

Mason kept scrambling away, but not before one of the muck monsters slashed at him. He whacked at it with his shillelagh, but given that it wasn't real it didn't do much good. So unfair. Mason shoved off and let Sabia cover his retreat, though she was winded too. His stone glowed again, but Mason had to start being smart. He couldn't give up. He had to focus. He looked down at his shillelagh and brushed his fingers over one of the sigils carved there. "<<Protect me.>​>​"

Mason flipped a coin. The coin showed: Heads

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 1

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 5

Santana keep making more of the mud monsters go for Mason. If it works, it works.

Mason shook his head sharply. Not real, not real. His shillelagh was real, and he needed to get closer to her, destabilize her. So he mustered his courage and ran around the muck, into the mist; Sabia ran the other way and howled, giving him direction; he swung low and hit Santana in the side, though not hard enough to break her ribs or do any permanent damage. And Sabia was with him - he had to press his advantage while he had it, while he could.

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 1

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 3

Santana looks again, annoyed at the wolf being there, making wolf noises, that she didn't notice Mason's attack and went back. "The wolf is better fighter than you" she said, not smiling this time, while she make dissapear the previous illusion to make a fake spear to make Maso go back.

Mason held up his shillelagh reflexively to block the spear, and it glowed faintly in his hand, his sigil activating and shattering the image of the spear. "Her name is Sabia, and she says thank you."

Mason rolled a die with 7 sides. The die showed: 5

Santana rolled a die. The die showed: 6

Santana is totally not going to call a stupid wolf for its name. She pretended to get a hand grenade, and showed it to Mason before throwing it to his feet, making another illusory explosion, sounds effects and all.

Mason yelled, " <<I am shielded!>​>​" and a sturdy green light surrounded him, but it only was able to absorb the worst of the blast. The aftershock was able to bring him to his knees, using his shillelagh for support - he glanced up at her and strongly considered another attack, but a warning whine from Sabia stopped him. With Marley, he'd gone until he couldn't go anymore, and he didn't mind her knocking him out. Santana was a different story altogether. And the thought of Marley just depressed him, so he let out a heavy sigh and held out his free hand, a sign of surrender. "Okay, San. You win."

Santana smiled even more when she heard the sound of her adversary surrendering. Sweet victory. She made a little bow, like a an actor recieving the greetins of the public at the end of a theatre play. "The honor is yours" She said "You resist well when things got hard, but don't have a good start" she said patting his head now that she could. "Did you had at least half as fun as I did?"

Mason rolled his eyes fondly, standing back up. He didn't mind the hair patting - his hair was soft, everyone should pet it - but his vengeance was that he towered over her when he stood back up. "Sure," he said with a shrug. He appreciated the critique; he needed to get over his aversion to immediate offense, but not be so stupid as to rush blindly in. There had to be a compromise in there somewhere. "Your illusions are great," he said, "but they'd be harder to fight against if they were of things that could be reasonably happening. Like, I'm not great at illusions, yknow, but when I tried one on Madison I didn't go for the muck monsters from hell. I just made her think the roof was caving in." Mason shrugged and leaned down to rub behind Sabia's ears. She really was a better fighter than he was. "Time for pizza? Loser buys, right?"

Santana looked smug. "I know they are" she said, proud of herself. "I know all the illusions tricks, Number 2, most of them I had to suffer cause they were aimed at me." She said because she was a total show off. She could explain him more, but that was too much information on her MO of fighting. "Loser buys" she nods.

Mason frowned slightly; he knew a little something about being attacked. He didn't push; he led them to the dining hall and got their food, waiting until his pizza was half gone and he felt less like he'd gotten his butt kicked before he broached what he actually wanted to talk to her about. "So, enough about other people's problems," Mason began, wiping his mouth and leaning back in his seat. "What happened to you on Sunday?"

Santana was happy eating her pizza, happy about how things where going without people talking about HER issues. She wondered if just hiding it will be more suspicious than just saying it. But she had a trick for these situations "What do you think happened in Sunday? C'mon, maybe you are smart enough to guess it, it's not that hard" she said, challenging him.

Mason squinted lightly at her, studying the expression on her face. Santana saying it wasn't that hard meant nothing, but one of the things he admired about her was her refusal to make it easy. Admired and hated, maybe. He shook his head to clear it, folding his fingers together. Problems could be broken down into who, what, when where and why. Who: Santana. What: Acting cagey and distracted, glued to her phone. When: Sunday. Why: ??? ...So that left where. "Assuming that you're not upset about missing Sunday service," Mason began slowly. "You thought you were home?"

Santana raised an eyebrow "What the hell is Sunday service?" she asked. Mason said the easy thing, and it was easy, she was surprised no one noticed. She guessed they didn't give her much attention or they just where really bad at geography. She shrug with a little smile. "Almost right" she said "One get nostalgic sometimes, that's all" She could say that wasn't her home, but that would be way too long, and the less personal the better. Sharing just the minimun to not get more question, and have excuses already prepared, just in case. She keep eating asi it was nothing. "And getting back to other's people problem, how is that affecting /you/?" She asked, more out of curiosity than anything.

Mason nodded slowly; he hadn't been nostalgic much since coming to NYADA, except in the moments that felt most confusing and strange, and even then, it wasn't out of a desire to go back to the Compound itself so much as it was a desire for the world to make sense again. Mason figured this had a little to do with his being at NYADA voluntarily, and a lot to do with his ability to go home whenever he felt like it. Mason didn't press further; almost right wasn't wrong, and she hadn't brushed him off--she was entitled to her privacy. "How does that affect me? You wanting to go home? It doesn't. In the moment it did because you were my teammate and I was worried about you." Mason shrugged and took another bite of pizza. "I guess now it affects me because you're my friend and I don't like seeing you upset," he allowed, "and if it was an ongoing thing I'd want to help you if I could."

Santana rolled her eyes "I mean everyone, in general, dumbass" She squint her eyes at him ​Fuck, he said the F word​ she keep eating anyway. "If you get affected by your own problems and other people problems, that's not going to do wonders for your mental health" she said, disinterested. "Don't offer help so fast if you are going to regret it"

Mason shrugged and averted his gaze. He wasn't sure he believed that she was genuinely worried about him, but it was sweet of her to say all the same. "I don't regret it," Mason said quietly. "I try not to regret the things I do. Life's too short, y'know? Especially for my line of work." Mason picked at his pizza. "I don't regret helping people. I don't regret getting hurt. I don't even regret Fred here," Mason said, holding up his wrist to show off his Watch Eye, currently in watch form. "Because it helped someone, in a roundabout way. What happens to me and how I feel is...less important than that." Mason shrugged again. "I regret hurting people along the way. That's what I need to be more careful about, is all." Mason chewed at the edge of his lip, then shook his head at himself. "But. Thank you. That's sweet of you to say." Mason glanced at her and smiled a little, though it quickly turned impish. “Don't hit me for calling you sweet."

Santana looked at him, doubting him. "You can regret the things you promise, specially to a trickster" She keep eating and listening, she wasn't a fan of regret either, but she knew other people tended to drown in it. "I know how short it is, yeah" She said, always remembering she should be dead already. ​But suck it, death.​ . "Fred, George and Eazy E, why are you slayers like that" She asked to the wind more than Mason. "It helped? How?" She blinked twice for the sweet comment, and then illusionated a box of sugar and made it look like she was taking it to throw it to Mason's face "Sweet. I'm surprised, I though you were the type to regret a lot"

Mason laughed, flinching playfully. "I dunno. I'm trying to be better about wallowing," Mason said. "What's done is done, y'know? Can't change the past, no matter how much you wish you could. Just gotta focus on making the next step better. And better, and better, and better, until you don't have anything to look back on and feel guilty about. Eventually your 'shoulda coulda didn't's will turn into 'shoulda coulda did's." Mason shrugged. "They said that our meeting with the guy who wanted the knife helped, because it proves there's more than us involved in this thing. We got it on camera, so they have something to go on." Mason smiled ruefully. "Guess I'll never know if they catch the guy or guys or gals or whoever is behind that part. I hope they move on Coleman soon, though, I'm getting tired of seeing his face around." Mason wrinkled his nose. "What about you? Do you regret much, San?"

Santana vanished the illusory sugar. "I agree, and well, technically you can change the past, but it's one of the Cardinal Laws I totally agree with it should all be banned... because when you can actually change the past, then you can't say 'We can't change it, just move on'. " She said. God, she hated time travels. She keep listening while finishing her pizza. "Oh, that's nice, I hope they caught him soon" Who knows how much were know, it was all very far away and everything always too slow for her liking. "I wish" she commented about Coleman being away. "He can go to Magic Harvard with the others Bloodline douchebags" She drank a bit and almost spit all laughing at Mason's question "Oh, my..." she tried to stop laughing "Please, Number 2, I don't regret anything I ever did. Regret's useless and I'm not a fan of useless things"

Mason chuckled and nodded. "Harvard can have him." Mason shook his head and finished his pizza, wiping his fingers off on his napkin. Regret could be useful, if it was a lesson, but Mason had a feeling that Santana either knew that and was choosing to ignore it, or found her teachings elsewhere. Either way. "Me either, I don't think. I try to find a use for everything," Mason added with a shrug. "Or else what's really the point? If everything has meaning, nothing's a waste." Mason smiled a little, hesitating for a moment before continuing, a little softer. "I'm glad we did this, San. The hanging out, I mean, but the duel too. It was a good distraction, and...it's nice, being 'okay' with you." Mason smiled simply. "How long d'you think it's gonna be before we're at each other's throats again?"

Santana doubted Mason actually tried to find a use for everything the same way she tried to find a use for everything. Not everything had meaning, but I guess some people though that. "Well, it was fun, not going to lie" She was actually kind of sad she couldn't tell Puck that Mason was better fighter than him, because it was much of a lie. "I give us a week, being generous." Usually she would think she would be the one screwing it up, but Mason had even a better record than her and without making the efford of screwing it out on purpose. "We can make it an enjoyable week, though." She sait getting up to leave.

Mason smiled in spite of himself. "That's real generous. See you, San." An enjoyable week sounded...well, it sounded impossible, but it was nice to think about. And she hadn't lied to him like, several times! That wasn't nothing; they were...allies, maybe. Friends. Currently-okay-with-each-other. He'd take it.