Over and over, Avory watches as white paints her hand, binds her fingers into a fist. She wraps her hand in time with the rise and fall of her chest, the rhythm every bit as over hand, under wrist, through fingers, under palm, over hand. She doesn't have to watch, doesn't have to count each roll around her wrist, but she does. She could move more efficiently, get it done faster so she can finish her food, but she prefers taking her time.
It's her post-dinner ritual, her calm before the storm. At her right, Nick is engaged in his own routine, cigarette dangling from his lips while tapping away at a datapad. On the table between them lies a shard of broken glass, neat lines of red sand cut and ready. A gentle snowfall of dust floats around them, illuminated by light leaking through between the slats in the walls.
"A little early for that, isn't it?" A relatively unfamiliar tone asks, awkward in its attempt to sound casual.
Nick plucks the cigarette from his mouth. "You say that like she doesn't do this shit every time." His words tumble out on a cloud of smoke.
Avory looks up from her task, her eyes landing on the uneasy teenager lurking in the kitchen corner, quirks a smile. "And aren't you late? Shouldn't you be out fondling strangers by now?" She cups her free hand in the air, twiddling her fingers around an invisible ball sack.
Aaron drops his eyes and clasps his hands together, fingers nervously playing with one another at his waist. Nick catches her sidelong glance by coincidence, forces her to do a double take at his stern stare, his brows pressed down firmly over his eyes. She tilts her head at his disapproval, mouths the question, "what?".
Sara appears behind Aaron, raven hair twisted into a collection of tight curls, and slides one manicured hand over his shoulder. "Be nice." She purrs. "Aaron isn't used to blowing his load on demand yet. Don't worry, sweetie, you'll get there."
Avory finishes her left hand, peers through strands of blonde up to Sara. "Are we supposed to believe you actually like strange old men jizzing all over your face?"
"They're not all old, and they're not all men." She lowers her voice, as if to share a secret, "Lately, they haven't even all been human." Aaron visibly flinches, Nick looks up from his data pad, suddenly interested. "But, yes." Sara chuckles, brushing off Avory's antagonism. "Besides, someone wants to slap me across the face, they pay me way more than what you get to take a hit five times harder." She pauses, moves to stand between Avory and Nick, bends at the waist and quickly inhales a line of sand through one of her nostrils. She sighs, invigorated. "And I'm not smart enough to do that shit Nick fucks around with." She flicks her wrist at the datapad in Nick's hands, then moves back to Aaron, pats him on the back, "Trust me, you'll start to like it. Once you get regulars, it feels more like dating. I've only ever been hurt, you know, like on purpose, not just from a rough fucking, like, four times. Maybe five."
Sara shrugs with her usual nonchalance, a grin playing across her lips. Avory is pretty sure she's kidding, but Aaron's face pales just the same. Avory shakes her head and hooks her next wrap over her right thumb.
Nick drops his datapad on the table and grabs a piece of crust from Avory's plate, shoves it into his mouth. He stands, makes his way to the two with whom they share the house. "This shit's only temporary, Aaron. You won't be selling your dick forever." He claps his hand on Aaron's shoulder and the younger man smiles sheepishly, seemingly more appreciative of Nick's friendly contact than Sara's dismissive pats. Nick lifts his cigarette to his lips, inhales, and raises his empty hand over Sara's shoulder. She eyes him warily. "Sara, you... I think you're fucked. Literally. You will be taking face shots forever." His hand lands on her shoulder with empathy, but there is no hiding the shit-eating grin that takes over his face. It makes Avory smile too.
"Fuck you, Nick." Sara laughs.
Nick slides his hand down to the small of her back, wearing the same cocky grin. "Do I get a discount?"
"We can work something out." Sara winks, but she can't hold her composure as well as Nick, and she laughs.
"Hey!" A new voice sounds from behind them and Finch appears, delivers a playful punch to Nick's shoulder as he passes. "Hands off the merchandise, asshole."
Nick snorts and lets his hand slide around Sara's waist, pulling her in for a quick side hug before releasing her. "You running security tonight, Finch?"
Finch nods, makes his way to the table and presses his nose into powder and broken glass, inhaling deeply. "All weekend. Nothing like listening to a bunch of other people get laid while I stand outside, bored as fuck."
Avory scoffs. "Oh Finch, we all know you find ways to entertain yourself."
This makes Nick chuckle quietly, earning him a stern look from Finch.
"So what? I got too horned up the first few times." He looks around the room to find everyone, even Aaron, holding back laughter at his expense. "Fuck you guys. I don't anymore! Sara's screaming just gets annoying after a while."
"You're such a fucking liar. I've seen the wet spots on your pants." Sara saunters back to the table, inhales another line of sand. When she straightens, her eyes are glazed over. Avory recognizes the veil as more than a high, deeper than a coping mechanism. Even her voice drops half an octave as she shifts into strictly business. "Boys, we really need to get moving. Avory, good luck tonight. Try not to die. Nick, try not to black out this time, huh? I don't want to wake up to another shit on the floor."
Nick grins, takes another drag of his cigarette. "No promises."
Sara moves toward the door and Aaron falls in line behind her, his dark eyes angled at the floor. He forces a weak smile at Nick and Avory; she nods in acknowledgement, but doesn't bother returning the smile. As he passes, she notices he's wearing the same clothes as the day he arrived, his shirt still pressed and his hair still coiffed, but he doesn't seem to fill them as well anymore. Finch hurries to snort one more line, then shuffles out the door, trying to keep up with Sara. The guy might be standing guard, but he clearly doesn't hold an ounce of power in the trio.
"Kid doesn't know what he got himself into." Nick says once the door closes behind them.
"He'll get used to it."
Avory glances up from her hand to find Nick leaning back against the sink, his arms folded in front of his chest. "Were we looking at the same kid just now? He looked like a fucking ghost. And you gave him shit."
"I was kidding." She snaps defensively. "You say way worse to Sara."
"Sara grew up here, she can handle it. That kid can't."
Avory sighs and begins to unwrap her recently finished right hand, coiling the tape back into a spool. Nick's stare doesn't leave her, and though she doesn't look, she can predict the look on his face all too well. Piercing blue eyes narrowed, one brow raised inquisitively, his lips pursed. The dirty blonde curls falling onto his forehead are soft, but somehow don't detract from the seriousness in his expression. The same look she wears when he's being an ass. Sometimes she swears they really are related.
"He can always go home."
"Didn't he leave home because his mom tried to kill him or some shit?"
"Shit, I never heard the full story." Avory scrunches her nose, begins to unwrap her left hand. "But he had his choice. He joined up. Shit, he still had a better fucking start than anyone in the real world and his only skill is being fucking good looking."
Nick winces at her severity. "Sex work is probably a lot harder than he expected."
Avory snorts, looks up to see if Nick made that pun on purpose. The same pinched expression tells her not to dwell on it. "Right, because getting a bunch of people off is so difficult. They get their own security detail for fuck's sake."
"I don't know. Taking two dicks up the ass at once sounds pretty difficult."
Avory snorts a laugh, a smile spreads like wildfire across her face. "Ouch, fuck. That makes me hurt just thinking about it."
"That's what I thought. If it were so easy, you'd have joined 'em by now."
Avory looks up to find Nick smiling again, far too full of himself as usual, eagerly awaiting her response. She's tempted to stick out her tongue. "I'm better at fighting than I am at fucking."
Nick chuckles, but the sound is hollow. "Practice makes perfect and all that, right?"
Their eyes lock and Nick's smile fades, his arms tighten across his chest. Avory looks down at her hand. She knows what is coming and she hopes that maybe if she pretends to be oblivious, she can avoid the conversation. Maybe.
"Listen, Avory. I know-"
No such luck. Avory sighs, drops her hands between her knees, lets the remaining tape dangle off her palm, spiraling midair. "Fuck, Nick, can you fucking quit it?"
"Whoa, calm down, killer." Nick holds his hands up in surrender. "All I'm saying is we can't live in this shit hole until we die."
Avory has to chuckle at that, though it's dry. "At least this shit hole has a roof."
"You used to like sleeping under the stars."
Avory finishes unwrapping her left hand and stretches her fingers. "I also like having a real bed instead of a fucking cardboard mat."
"We can't stay here forever, Avey."
Avory flinches at the softness in his tone, silently curses him for using that name, the name she used to call herself when she was too young to pronounce it correctly. The name he had continued to call her affectionately, even now, so many years later she could barely remember which foster home it was in that they met. Her fingers curl into fists and then stretch out again. Fuck him for using that name against her.
"Yeah, well I'm not trying to live forever. Ignis elegit nos." She repeats the Red's mantra, her voice grave and flat.
The same mantra they had repeated at each stage of their initiation, until the beatings left them without oxygen, "ignis" being the only word either could spit out among chipped teeth and blood. The same lyric that Konnor spewed from his sinister lips as a command, one that each member knew and obeyed without hesitation. The same words whispered with a smile, gifted with food, with comfort, with promises of a family just before iron fresh from the fire burned an R into their flesh.
Nick frowns, uncrosses his arms and returns to his seat on her right. He stares at his datapad, the same outdated piece of shit he's had for months now. He's silent for a second, then ten. It's going on 45 and Avory leans forward, takes a line of sand into her nose before he speaks again.
"You're a biotic, some people actively recruit biotics." He sounds so solemn Avory almost feels guilty. "I'm smart, probably better with tech than most of those fuckers working normal jobs, anyway." He leans forward, rests his elbows on the table. "If I can find us a way out, you'll come with me, right?"
Avory swallows, her brows coming together as she shifts her weight in her seat, her eyes dropping to Nick's hands on the table. "You'd go without me?"
Nick lets a quiet laugh escape his lips and sits back, drawing his arms back over his chest. He lifts a leg, playfully kicks at her chair. "Fuck no. You're my little sister."
Avory rights her chair, glances up at him through her lashes. She didn't need to ask, but she likes hearing it. They've been together almost as long as either could remember, even at a distance, as they cycled through foster family after foster family. Blood meant nothing, he was her brother, their relationship forged by a longing for normality and comfort as much as it was by necessity.
"Yeah, okay, you go find us some fucking miracle and I'll go with you to work a normal job." She laughs, leans forward for another line. "Shit, maybe we can start paying rent on some shitty apartment, work in a cubicle. It'll be great."
"Hey, fuck you, okay." Nick is only somewhat serious because he laughs. "I've got something in the works."
Avory looks at her brother, searches his face for any clues. He gives nothing away, though she finds a new determination in his eyes, something that wasn't there when he's nagged her about this before. She always assumed it was a fantasy, just talk, like when he used to daydream about riding a giraffe and she used to dream about living among the stars.
"'Kay, well can you work while you come watch me kick some sixth street ass?"
Nick nods and leans forward, inhales the last line on the glass, tips his head back as the sand enters his bloodstream. "Fuck!" He shakes his head and pinches the bridge of his nose.
Avory snorts. "Amateur."
Nick comes back, punches her in the shoulder. Avory lifts her arm and balls her fist, leans forward, threatens to hit back.
"All right, all right!" Nick jerks away, folds his arms defensively in front of his chest. "Save it for later, killer."
"Later is now." Avory stands, shoves her wraps into the pockets of her sweats. "Let's go, shithead."
Ignis elegit nos - fire chose us
Thank you for reading!