A/N: Many thanks to tgbkaru on Twitter for giving me this head-cannon, and my friend EpsilonFragment for encouraging me to find my inner "edge-lord." It made this much easier to write.
Some things to note: I reread the quest details and lore of "Patient Zero," and for those of you who are familiar with it know that it's disjointed from our current knowledge of the Infested and the relationship to Warframes. It was hard for me to scrap what I wrote up to a certain point, so I tweaked it to give it a slightly different dynamic to the universe.
-1. Sentients are "demons" in this AU, which I argued for with her Devil Ranger skin. Also gave me a working point in conjunction with Patient Zero.
-2. Trinity's Energy Vampire and Strega skin formed the basis of her character. I had no idea what exactly she would be but figured something along the lines of a vampire-succubus mixed in with some other oddities. She's just Trinity to me, okay? .
"Hey Trinity?"
Eyes reminiscent of a robin's egg looked up from the holographic tablet in hand. "Yes?"
The curly-haired man addressing her cradled a huge, dog-like creature in his arms. Any other day it might have crushed him to death, but with the way it was bandaged up and splintered that fate remained a distant notion. "Are you busy right now?"
Nothing in particular currently held her attention. "Sort of," she lied expertly. As much as she loved Oberon and appreciated his assistance in the medical ward, animals remained out of her realm of expertise. Sure, she could diagnose issues, heal wounds, and fix broken bones. Animals were a completely different matter altogether and some of her standard practices didn't apply. There was a reason why she left kubrows and kavats to the fae king and forest queen. She hadn't provided a reason to back her statement, since she lacked an excuse and as a woman of supposed high moral standards, it left her incredibly guilty.
Her savior came in the form of a "harrowing" man - the epitome one would expect to encounter in dark alleyways or in the middle of some kind of satanic worshipping cult. "I believe there is still one more patient under Trinity's care that has evaded their mandatory appointments." Come to think of it, the medic couldn't think of anyone who slipped under her radar to this point. She checked all personnel records daily so if someone was long overdue for a check-up it went to the top of her priority list. Flying around in space also meant few places to evade medical care, and with the main triage of medics on board everyone remained in top condition. Trinity brought up their records database and skimmed through each file, skipping the ones she took care of recently when one particular soldier - or rather mercenary - flashed across the screen.
Cue plenty of internal groaning. "Of all the people…" Only one person could gnaw her nerves like a kubrow with a chew toy.
"I would have offered to bring her in within the next ten minutes…"
Trinity waved it off. "I appreciate it Harrow, but I can handle it myself." While his presence didn't unnerve her all that much, she wasn't keen on having him near her most difficult patient for reasons she couldn't currently fathom.
Perhaps she did, and she simply didn't want to admit it out loud
Pale, yellow eyes disappeared behind his eyelids and he bowed courteously. "As you wish. Should you require my assistance I will be within ear's reach." That was to say, anywhere given the fact their ward had access to the ship-wide telecommunications network courtesy of their commander. Although Harrow was out of sight for Trinity when he departed, Oberon watched his back up until the doors closed with a quiet hiss. He turned back to the head medic with a scrunch in his nose. "I don't understand why he comes around. He's creepy as hell."
Trinity raised an eyebrow, pen in hand pointed right at the fae king standing in her doorway. "You are the embodiment of radiation, I'm some kind of weird vampire, Nezha is a demigod for crying out loud, and don't get me started on Equinox. I think he's the least of our worries."
"Life, I think you meant life for me." She rolled her eyes. Trinity stood up and swiped the tablet from the desk, squeezing around Oberon towards the exit. "Whatever helps you sleep at night mister. Can you hold down the fort while I track someone down?"
He chuckled and gave her a little wiggle of his fingers. The medic didn't even bother to hide an eyeroll so dramatic, it could probably be heard from the other side of the ship. "Wrangle her in Trinity. Take as long as you need."
Trinity groaned in disbelief before she departed, muttering under her breath. "Everyone and their Hunhow-damned puns."
Metal shone under the lamplights as a polish-stained cloth ran over its surface. A soldier's weapons were only as good as the care they received; even more so for mercenaries as herself. Without a steady supply of valuable materials for upkeep like in standard military outfits, scavenging for precious resources alone wound up with barely enough to make it to the next job in one piece. It was the reason why she sought every reason to remain on board the floating space galleon belonging to her current employer – a kindly benefactor extending her vast stores to those who proved their services useful. Sharp, eagle eyes stared at the firearm in hand. She took the utmost precautions in making sure every nook and cranny, every chamber, every spring was cleaned thoroughly because how could they serve her purpose if they failed to fire in combat?
The cloth stilled.
'Who am 'ah kiddin'….' The mercenary knew without hesitation her Regulators would perform exactly as she expected them to – exceptionally well, as they always have. She could hold one of them in her hands and know which spring or rod was off by millimeters. At this point, cleaning her pistols fell into the category of "busy work." So why did she settle for making her weapons as spotless as a shined boot?
You're being awfully broody today. Mesa sighed and rubbed her temples.
'Glad ta see ya back. Had a good vacation?' The laughter in her head sounded more like a dissonance of taiko drums. Funny, hilarious. Has anyone complimented you on your humor?
She hated how of all the people on board, she was the only one with a Sentient haunting her mental space. You could do with a bit of appreciation for the fact I've given you space and time to accomplish whatever it is you needed done.
The mercenary found herself staring at her reflection on the wide window to the stars. Mesa didn't smile, but her reflection did and it unnerved her every time. 'What are ya tryin' ta say? That ah'm taking advantage of my free time ta be lazy?'
Oh I don't take you for a couch potato, vagabond. Her reflection's grin turned Cheshire. But you have far better use of your time than some of these trivial matter you constantly have on hand. And the fact you're wasting time staying on this ship. Speaking of, have you finished lamenting over that little vampire of yours?
"Little vampire" referring to the head medic currently assigned to her case. 'What's it ta ya?'
If I were in your shoes, I'd fuck her already and get it over with. I'm sick and tired of seeing your fantasies float by. We have better things to do. Matters didn't work that way, even for an outcast with supposedly no moral standings. Despite the shit storm Mesa went through, she held on to some semblance of discipline and common courtesy in her militia days. 'What 'ah do and who 'ah think about is none of yer concern.'
Surprise, we share the same address. The mockery in that ethereal voice grated her nerves.
'My body, my rules. Ya knew this ages ago.'
It went quiet for a moment in her mind. Do not remind me of those times, outcast. I am doing you a favor by not tormenting you nightly with those memories, and we both know I'm certainly capable of making your nights a daunting affair if I chose. I may just be a fraction of who I was, but I am not inept. Her current status as a mercenary-for-hire hadn't been a choice. She never envisioned living that way in her earlier years. Things were simpler then – a hard-working, quiet countryside woman trying to find her place in the life among the countless stars. When the demons came, she enlisted alongside so many others and found herself in the midst of a war beyond the scope of her imagination. All the factions stood together under one banner to push against invading forces; at least that was what she was told.
Her mind spiked with pain when memories threatened to break the floodgates. Was it the Sentient's doing? Or was it of her own volition; her past gripped sanity like a vice. And every breath she took, it only grew tighter.
She could have been a well-spoken, clean-nosed soldier going back home. She thought sacrificing herself to save her company would sing praises of her heroism, like in all those films she'd seen. It wasn't the enemy she gave herself to protect her comrades – the former Corpus leader Alad V set her up. He wanted her entire unit, the Presidio Outfit, under his command for the war but when she suspected a betrayal she made sure the others escaped and left her behind. He was less than pleased to find only a single troop instead of elite soldiers at his disposal.
Mesa learned through him the true power of their enemy – possession. Endless torture, exposing her mind and body to the terrors of a malicious force that threatened her resolve and discipline hour after hour, day after day, week after week, and eventually she no longer cared to remember when it all began. Then they began to pick through her psyche, clawing and smashing through every precious memory. They twisted and corrupted her mental foundations until just a whisper, an empty threat of punishment would leave her crying hysterically in her cell. The moment the lesser demon finally took her body, her mind broke and drifted in the void.
The mercenary wished she killed herself instead of being captured but her pride and honor as a soldier won out. The Sentient possessing Alad V fancied her body in more ways than one, and the resulting scars where the physical reminds of what the true enemy was capable of. Dark obsidians tinted with a hue of crimson subconsciously roamed over the bandages hiding her wrists and her fingers - hiding the scars of her past like a scorned branding.
They contributed so much to her eternal torment.
Mesa's head snapped up when three sharp knocks rapped her door. When had she stood up? "Mesa, you there?"
The soft voice soothed her like distant windchimes. It pushed out dark thoughts and she felt the Sentient's presence faded away. "Door's unlocked."
"You better be decent." The gunslinger chuckled and gave her room a quick scan. If anything remained of her time in service, she could count on keeping her bay clean. Bed made in the corner, clothes washed and neatly put away, weapons racked in their rightful place. Only her desk remained out of order from working. She slid the door open to find Trinity with hand poised to knock right where her face was – except the medic actually followed through.
Pain blossomed between her eyes and she gripped her face as Trinity essentially punched her in the face. "Aye fuckin' Void, Trin." Tear stung the corner of her eyes. "What did ya have ta do that fer?" Not even a word of apology came when the medic shoved a tablet into her face. Mesa squinted past liquid salt to read the words on the screen. It took a moment for her to process the information, and a long sigh slipped from her lips. "'ah shouldn't really have ta ask, should 'ah?"
"No." Blunt, to the point. No argument. Mesa couldn't get out of this one.
After a deliberate, pregnant pause, Mesa's shoulder sagged in resignation and Trinity lowered her tablet. "Let me grab a jacket."
"It'll just be a quick check up for your shoulder."
Mesa stiffened. "Doesn't mean 'ah can't be comfortable." The gunslinger enjoyed her tank tops in personal space, but outside of closed doors she kept the sprawling curse across her shoulders and back well hidden from prying eyes. Few wanted to associate themselves with someone cursed to live all eternity with their most hated enemy, and she did them a favor staying clear of their path. Those who wanted to take matters in their own hands picked uneven fights with her and sent her to the medical ward as often as a regular patron at a bar. She was better off keeping it out of sight, and out of their minds.
Trinity was the exception. Mesa had been host to one of the most ruthless forces across galaxies, and not only did she still treat her like any other patient in the infirmary, she saved her.
The first time they met, she gave her a fighting chance. Trinity broke her, broke the Sentient's iron grip on her mind. She remembered hearing it screaming in pain and its control ebbing enough for her to come to reality for the first time in what felt like forever. She remembered seeing the medic's tender gaze ripping holes into her soul and clawed hands around her neck, and her own fingers wrapping around Trinity's wrists.
'Kill…me.' Impossibly blue eyes widened and the death grip around her neck slackened. No, Mesa wanted to cry and beg for it to end – she finally tasted freedom and life after being submerged underwater for so long. She couldn't bear the thought of losing it again and stared up, lips barely moving to plead. 'Please…make it…. stop….'
"You…. You-!"
I. OWN. YOU. The soldier screwed her eyes shut, pain cutting her brain deeper than she thought possible. But it was weak, the Sentient had a lapse in control and she took advantage of the moment to fight through it. Mesa shoved the woman off her and scanned the room hastily. If she was here, she had a weapon – something, anything. An ornate dagger lay to the side, scattered in some kind of scuffle she presumed, and Mesa scrambled after it to end her timeless misery.
"Wait!" The woman tackled her to the ground and she heard the blade clatter beyond her reach. They tumbled for a bit before Mesa's lack of strength won out and she found herself on her back once more, hands pinned down to prevent anything else from happening. "I… I recognize you. You're Mesa, you're the Presidio unit they left behind, aren't you?"
Something triggered inside her and she cried. No ugly sobs, no sounds, just tears streaming from her face. Someone came back for her. But that also meant-
Interesting. She's powerful if she could stop me for a moment. You won't have control much longer, you insolent pest. And soon, she'll be mine as well. Her control waned and tapered as the Sentient wrestled for control of her body again. Panic flooded every fiber of her being – no, she couldn't let her be taken. She couldn't - refused, to let this nightmare be unleashed on another victim. Mesa stared up weakly into those eyes, finding an odd sense of peace and comfort. "I can't….let them… let it take you…too…."
"What are you-"
"KILL ME!" Mesa roared, trying to keep control for as long as she could. Her muscles screamed pain as she physically tried to fight back the Sentient. Her fists clenched as electricity shot down her spine in attempts to drown out its relentless screaming. "It…will come….back…..want you…can't be stopped….won't escape me….unless I DIE." Mesa pulled every bit of energy she had remaining, croaking out in exhaustion. "End my suffering…and tell them….I tried."
She truly thought she died, until she woke up to the groaning of a long, abandoned Corpus ship.
Mesa found herself laying on some kind of bed, arms cross over her chest and covered by a thin sheet. She weakly pulled it off enough to see if this was some kind of nightmare or dream, and when she finally had enough vision it was neither. The solitary light above her bed flickered in and out, mostly out, and the air reeked of staleness. After a few more moments of trying to limber up, the soldier pushed herself up to a sitting position and held her head. Everything felt so heavy and slow.
Nice to see you're finally awake. She jolted, the familiar voice sending her into a panic attack. Paranoia gripped her mind, but when nothing happened and she retained full functionality of her limbs, Mesa slowly reached back to the Sentient lurking somewhere in her brain. 'Why-'
-am I not in control? She heard it scoff in annoyance. Your savior managed to rip me to my core. Anything I had to fight her with, she countered tenfold. Completely stripped me until only my mind remained. Have to give her credit though, she kept your soul intact and untouched, even managed to repair a couple of things along the way.
'How long have 'ah been out?'
Some odd two months, maybe. Two months?! How the fuck was she even alive then?
You're technically not human anymore, not when I initially took you over. You can survive without anything for a long time. A part of her remained skeptical of the entire ordeal, but even greater was an indescribable, overwhelming desire to figure out who this woman was. She gave Mesa a second chance even when she begged for death. 'Well then, we're getting' outta here whether ya like it or not.'
Not like I have much a choice. By the way, I suggest avoiding corridors two and three if possible. There's a vent at the end of four that can take you down to the hangar, where there might still be a functioning pod for you to escape with.
Okay... Maybe she may have lost her mind along the way too, if the Sentient was casually talking to her now. 'Why are ya helpin' me?'
The Sentient let out a long sigh. I can't leave your body since it's literally keeping me alive. But that doesn't mean I can't project myself to a certain extent. When you spend two months trapped in limbo like this, you learn to accept the circumstances instead of fighting it.
'…'
He left me to die with you. After whatever raid they did on this vessel, he never returned to check or even reclaim us. I may be a Sentient, but even we know betrayal as much as you humans do. I spite him more than you now – after all we are bound together.
Mesa was still uncertain about everything, but if this ship was deserted as the Sentient claimed it was then it was best to start moving. 'What happened?'
Infested outbreak. Your little angel thought she killed you. So she 'buried' you by leaving your body to rest in one of the cells and sealed us in against the outbreak that followed shortly after. I'd rather put up with months of captivity than deal with those pesky insects gnawing at your bones.
Mesa never fought a harder battle than escaping the abandoned laboratory, even dealing with the Sentient was leagues easier.
"Mesa, are you even listening?" The gunslinger blinked, finding herself standing in front of the door to the medical ward. She met Trinity's gaze and shrugged sheepishly, rubbing the back of her neck. "Sorry, 'ah got distracted."
The medic shook her head and huffed vehemently. "I swear. I wonder if there's anything but air up in that head of yours."
The Sentient roared with laughter. See, I'm not the only one who thinks so.
'Shaddup.'
Trinity stared at Mesa for what felt to be the umpteenth time in the last hour. They went through the same routine as usual – warm ups, some stretches and range-of-motion tests, then a diagnostic on how the gunslinger felt. Initially they made incredible progress when she recovered partial motion after a couple of weeks. But at some point, she complained about persistent pain the more she could wave her arm around.
Which was why right now the medic felt uneasy when Mesa didn't mention a word of pain.
"Are you well Trinity?" The medic snapped out of her thoughts and found a rather tall woman standing in front of her desk, blocking her direct line of sight from Mesa. She cleared her throat and stood up to meet the other medic's gaze despite the fact she knew the other woman was blind. "I'm fine Equinox. Thank you for your concern."
The other woman hummed in contemplation and turned to look out the window. The gunslinger sat on one of the patient tables, hands folded in her lap with thumbs twiddling. "A case of cabin fever?"
Trinity wasn't sure what it was. "I assume so, to a certain extent. I can't figure out what she might have done, but she hasn't complained about any pain and it's been a couple of weeks since I last saw her."
Hazy eyes blinked as arms crossed her chest. The room fell silent a small while longer until a smile tugged at the corner of her lips. "Mmm… I see now."
Trinity didn't like the pleasant expression on the healer's face – actually it sent shivers down her spine. As creepy as Harrow could be with his hauntingly monastic practices, Equinox practically transcended all of them while maintaining perfectly neutral grounds… That included perceiving things beyond their grasp and watching it come to fruition without ever having raised a single hand to do so. Then again it was expected of their most enigmatic soldier on board to be quite empathetic towards virtually everyone given her conditions she lived with. "What do you know?"
"I don't know anything more than you do in regards to your current patient. I'd deign to say you know far more than I do." She thought about it for a second - Equinox had a point. Of everyone on board, she was the only one most intimate with Mesa's history, both medical and personal. The woman raised a patchy hand and pat Trinity's head. "Do not worry yourself with my ruminations. I simply wanted to share an observation, nothing more. Is she cleared fit for duty again?" The switch in subjects irked her, but she let the matter slip. Getting a solid response from Equinox outside of missions was about as good as catching sand between open fingers.
"By the book, she is."
The taller woman closed her eyes and inclined her head. Before she left the office, she turned back to Trinity with a knowing look. Gods - how could someone who hadn't seen a thing in her life be so frighteningly expressive with those eyes?! "There should be no issues then, correct?"
Equinox was right yet again. Mesa had no complaints and all tests indicated a full recovery. So why was it right now she hesitated giving the go-ahead? She wasn't given a chance to respond either as the mysterious warrior vanished.
Trinity finally found her bearings again and stepped out of her office space to check back in with the gunslinger. Mesa looked up when she approached, and gave a lopsided smile. "Ya were gone a while doc. Everything okay?"
"Perfectly, actually." Trinity brought up the screen with all of the gunslinger's current medical records, down to the most recent numbers and tests. They weren't the most optimal for most soldiers on-board, but benchmarked against herself Mesa was a lot better than previous check-ups. Instead of dismissing her immediately, she went over the basics in keeping her shoulder muscles and joint from having further issues down the road. Why she went to this extent, it evaded her but those troublesome thoughts scattered when Mesa shrugged off her suggestions and said she'd keep it in mind if her shoulder bothered her again.
Trinity sighed, offering no amount of effort to hide her displeasure. "Seriously Mesa, just do the stretches when you can? Especially after missions."
"'ah will, 'ah will, alright mom?" Trinity felt her eyebrow twitch, having half a mind to smack her in the head. "'ah don't want to end up here again, if 'ah can help it. Save ya and me the trouble."
Indeed it would, and the medic was certain Mesa would be better off running around shooting things than cooped up in the ship. She rolled her eyes and ushered the woman off her table. "Run along, I'll pass the memo to the Commander. You're clear for duty again."
"Thanks a lot doc!"
Two weeks went by since the check up, and Trinity found herself wandering the ship corridors absolutely bored out of her mind. There were no patients, no appointments, no examinations, nothing. The lull in activity felt out of place, even though the Commander reassured them multiple times they were offered a moment of peace and everyone should take advantage of it. Sure, there were a couple of missions here and there but none of them required her assistance.
The medic hissed when she found her canines elongating and her nails aching for skin to break. Trinity never understood what made her the way she was, but the closest thing she assumed was a vampire-succubus mix minus a few other cumbersome qualities that would have otherwise made times like these much more inconvenient. It was an odd thought, given her less-than-stately appearance compared to most other beauties on board. Trinity was a small, lithe woman and given the conditions on Pluto with the Corpus, she was surprised her right leg had been the only thing needing a prosthetic when their Commander managed to pull her out of that hellhole. She did miss having hair, but not having to worry about shampoo was nice and the headdress she normally wore actually suited her just fine.
Hunger pains brought her mind back to reality. Usually fighting armies gave her more than enough a fill, but having been so busy on board she failed to keep track of her reserves. And being the quiet, stubborn woman she was didn't let anyone know and took this long to admit it to herself. She stopped dead cold in her tracks when she realized where she was headed, and completely did a one-eighty in favor of ignoring the tempting siren's call of heat and lust between the sheets.
Trinity knew at this point she was hunting, like Ivara on the Prowl, and if she didn't control herself she'd end up preying on some poor person on board. The last time it happened, she couldn't stop apologizing to Atlas for ages. And that had been years ago.
Mesa? The medic stopped dead cold in her tracks when she spotted the brunette lounging around. The demanding clamor of feeding quieted the moment the gunslinger entered her thoughts. Nostalgia washed over her as she watched her from afar, casually laying on the bridge's edge and facing the wide windows showcasing endless space. As she approached her, she realized the woman wasn't actually awake but sound asleep. A smile tugged at her lips when she remembered how many times she'd chide Mesa for napping in the strangest of places. Today felt no different and she reached out to tap the woman on her forehead to wake her up like she always did.
Trinity paused just centimeters from her face. She could feel her fingers itch to poke her, and yet they hesitated.
She's actually… really pretty up close… Come to think of it, the medic never really closely inspected the gunslinger. The stylish way Mesa kept her hair reminded her of those old-time Western movies, hair long enough to style whichever way she really wanted to. Light freckles peppered her cheeks and across the bridge of her nose, complimented by a set of healthy, dark lips. The only thing she took notice of all this time were the scars maring otherwise beautiful features. Numerous smaller ones left behind faint lines, but the biggest one was the spider-web that stretched from her left eye all the way back into her hairline. Mesa insisted she enjoyed hunting blindfolded as a challenge - and perhaps she did - but Trinity knew she wanted to hide the monster that lay within.
She could hear the pained screams echoing in her mind when she dug in to crush whatever it was that possessed her.
Trinity expect resistance from the Infested when she boarded this ship, no to come face to face with a former member of the Presidio Outfit. They were an older unit disbanded after the war, and everyone thought their last, missing soldier had died to save everyone else. Of course there was no visible proof of such and her status remained in question until the case was dropped altogether. She brandished her Lex, heart hammering in her chest as she crouched beside the body.
Her team had been tasked with hunting down a possessed Alad V for his crimes and sabotaging his lab.
"I'm so sorry….." Mesa's blank eyes haunted her. The medic wanted to do anything to save her soul, preserve her mind and the unstoppable force she slammed into would have completely drained her if she didn't suck its soul dry. When she reached further and touched upon the soldier's soul, her heart shattered. There was almost nothing left of it to begin with.
The remainder of Mesa's mind was despair and pain. No medic wanted to see their patients suffer.
Yet with the still cooling body next to her, she couldn't bring herself to put a bullet into Mesa's head, to ensure finality. Instead, she brought it upon herself to seal the last Presidio soldier in a clean cell, if only to give her peace of mind when she passed on.
"Nn….." The gunslinger shifted and turned her head upward, eyes blinking sleepily. "Trin..."
Her stomach lurched and her heart skipped a beat. Mesa was absolutely adorable when she woke up, something she desired strongly to witness again. A hand came up just inches away from her own face. "Y'know… ya remind me of an angel at this angle."
Angel?! The medic felt her cheeks flush with heat and she scowled lightly. "No napping on the bridge Mesa, you should know better at this point." The woman flashed her a trademark smile that made her head spin from how perfect it was. Her frustration only grew more when the gunslinger grabbed her wrist and tugged her towards the ground. She resisted, firmly keeping herself upright. "Mesa, seriously."
The gunslinger stared up at her. Trinity felt her throat constrict and stopped breathing altogether. Many found it unnerving that Mesa's eyes were as dark as the endless space – a result of being cursed – but for the medic, she found it only enhanced how sharp her eyes were. And on the rare occasion allowed herself to indulge in staring in those eyes when she didn't blindfold herself. It was a few tense seconds between the two, until the vagabond pushed herself up and swung her legs over the edge of the bridge. Her grip relented and dropped in her lap. "Just sit with me doc."
Mesa refused eye contact, twiddling her fingers idly.
An open invitation? All her reservations vanished as full doctor mode switched on. Trinity sat beside the gunslinger, giving enough respectable space between the both of them but close enough that she could just reach out to join Mesa's hands where they were. Ugh, stop it you sorry hormonal beast! "Is there something you wanted to talk about?"
"Do ya ever feel… 'ah dunno, off?" The gunslinger made a vague gesture and it took her a full minute of processing what she asked before giving up. "I don't understand. Is there something that's still preventing you from being able to perform adequately?"
Mesa shrugged. "Not that, 'ah just feel…. Like ah'm missin' somethin'?" Ah, that kind of 'off.' Come to think of it, Trinity did encounter that issue not long ago herself. Being busy with work kept her on a normal routine so when she had days of literally nothing else to do, it ended up being a book to read or a shield to polish. At some point however one could only reread something so many times or polish something to the point of nothingness. "It does take three weeks to fully develop a routine, and you were out of the loop for quite some time. It doesn't help we've also entered a temporary state of peace. Perhaps in a week's time things will start to feel normal again or change."
"Yeah, ya probably right…." The gunslinger smiled mostly to herself, looking out the large windows to the planet coming into view. "'ah suppose one more week and 'ah should be good ta go?"
Just then a calm voice echoed in their current space. "Trinity? Commander Arans is looking for you."
"Ah, thank you Nior. I will be up shortly." Mesa stood up before she did, offering a hand to the medic who took it gratefully. When left to stand on her own however, the room spun and she felt herself falling forward. Wha-
"Hey, hey?! Trin, ya alright?" Trinity squeezed her eyes shut as her heart thundered in her ears. The gunslinger fully supported at this point, arm slung across a broad shoulder. She didn't want to respond, didn't want to say anything in fear she might say something wrong or terrify the vagabond out of her mind. Her basal instincts roared to life where their skin touched and she could feel Mesa's racing pulse. It felt so good, so enticing. It made her fangs ache and dizzy with hunger.
Mesa's clear voice cut through the haze and brought her back to her senses. "….Trinity?"
Her eyes fluttered open and she found herself nuzzled into a smooth column of flesh. She inhaled sharply and almost groaned at how close she'd been to sampling the liquid pumping through the gunslinger's veins. Her face heated when she realized what she did. Well, almost.
Oh gods, I-
"Ya haven't fed, have ya?" She didn't want to admit it, but her instincts were speaking for her now. At least she retain motor control over her mouth and kept it tightly shut.
Trinity fail that completely in the next second. She stuttered incomprehensibly when Mesa went ahead and carried her in her arms instead. "I-"
"Save it." Trinity snapped her jaw shut immediately, heat spreading further across her cheeks. Normally, she'd be the one telling the vagabond to behave but times like these Mesa's firmness brokered no argument. When she pulled that confidence card on her, it took her all of her willpower to not whimper at the pulse of heat reminding her of her predicament. The medic simply kept her hold around the woman's neck and let her lead the way. Instead of taking a right towards the medical bay, they took a hallway to the left where the personal quarters were. Curious as to where they were going, and knowing fully well she still had to meet the commander, Trinity cleared her throat and attempted to speak. "Mesa, commander's office?" Fuck, she couldn't get rid of the throaty husk in her voice and it made the entire situation comically worse.
Mesa raised an eyebrow. "ah'm not gonna ask about your personal activities, but no way yer gonna talk ta her like this."
"That is not what I meant Mesa."
The gunslinger gave her a cheeky grin. "'ah know. 'ah couldn't help it. Though this is the first time ah've seen ya like this." Was it? Her going hungry wasn't an uncommon occurrence, though the severity of it varied depending on how long dry spells lasted. She didn't pay attention to whose room they went to, but the tell-tale smell of gunpowder and cleaning oils had her protesting when she was set down on the soft bed. "I can go back to my own quarters. You don't-"
"Naw, yer staying here for now. 'ah will talk ta the Commander. Let her know what's up." Trinity frowned, but when a firm hand pushed her back down on the bed, she finally relented and fell back against the sheets. "'ah will be back. Don't go running off." When Mesa left, the medic threw an arm over her eyes and left herself in a world of darkness. She really gone and messed up this time, if someone as distant as the gunslinger felt motivated enough to help her out. Trinity wanted to leave right away, but staying here-
Turning her head to look around prove to be her pitfall. Mesa's scent was everywhere – a mixture of familiar cleaning materials and gunpowder with standard shampoo. It was incredibly basic and simple, but she recognized it anywhere belonging to the gunslinger.
The thought of Mesa wrapping her up in her arms remained permanently engraved in her mind as she drifted off.
Mesa leaned against the wall instead of taking the chair across from the Commander's desk. She'd been trained alongside everyone else when she joined the motley crew and there were a few rules of conduct everyone followed, but she couldn't find it in herself to simply sit in front of someone who looked like they could barely carry a box let alone hold a proper gun. Said person sat calmly at the table, looking over a few papers after the gunslinger explained the situation and confirmed what the ship's AI relayed before she got there to begin with. Eyes greener than the forests on Earth scanned over the myriad of - what Mesa assumed to be - Orokin texts, with one hand combed through gold-touched hair swept over to reveal half a shaved head. "I can't believe I let it slip from my radar. I suppose we were lucky you were there when she collapsed."
More like you were breaking rules again and she just happened to be in the right place at the wrong time. The gunslinger pinched the bridge of her nose as she tried to shut out her mental roommate. "How long does this last?"
"You are aware of what she requires, right?" Mesa already knew - blood. At least one part of it. "And I can't send her out on a mission until she's at least functioning."
Well that much she gathered. For being a medic, she's not very good at taking care of herself.
'She tries ta be human, 'ah do the same. What did ya expect?'
Someone who has a little more sensibility, at the very least. I don't know what you see in her to begin with. I can think of plenty others that are more….befitting. 'Oh don't ya fucking dare bring in yer perverse sentient bullshit in my brain right now.'
"And you are aware of the other 'part' of her, correct?"
Mesa knew what that entailed, but the chivalrous part of her refused to acknowledge that fact. Still, leaving Trinity on her own was less pleasing than having to possibly deal with that part. "'ah can't see what might be an issue."
Arans-Oxford gave her a piercing stare, one she felt could freeze her in her place if she dared move an inch. I'm kind of glad it wasn't her that sundered me. 'You and me both.'
"Has she encountered anyone else since you ran into her?"
"Not that 'ah can think of. Why?"
The small woman frowned and rubbed her temples. She rose from her seat, which didn't really give her much more height, and walked around to stand a foot away from Mesa. "I respect you greatly, Mesa. I hope you know this." The gunslinger raised an eyebrow at the comment. "I will not force you into anything nor will I hold it against you, but would you be able to care for her needs for a few days? Most people don't know about her 'tendencies' since she's capable of controlling them quite well, but there are times like these she needs an extra hand."
Mesa found herself settled on her decision rather quickly. "'ah can handle it. It shouldn't be that hard."
The shorter woman smiled and bowed her head respectfully. "Thank you Mesa." Before the gunslinger departed, the commander made a quiet noise and Mesa turned back for a moment. She saw something flash across the young woman's face, eyes softening to the point she wanted nothing more than to hug their esteemed commander. "I really do appreciate you Mesa. You've been a rock for me since you arrived. Thank you for trusting me, and allowing me to trust you."
Outwardly, she simply nodded. "Anytime cap'n." On the inside, she felt like she was riding cloud nine.
Maybe 'ah do have a place here.
The brunette came back to her quarters with Trinity fast asleep, curled up on her bed with blankets wrapped around herself like a small burrito. For someone who was a stalwart against the evils of their universe and one of the most potent supports she'd known, she could be surprisingly cute at times. Mesa sat down on the edge of her bed to undo her boots (force of habit really since her shoes were always tucked away underneath her bed), but before she even got the first one off a hand darted out to grip her wrist tightly. Instinct kicked in and she almost yanked the poor medic up off her bed. "Cripes Trin. Don't scare me like that."
Trinity stared up at her, eyes unfocused and lips barely parted. She looked so strange, distant and under whatever influence gripping her mind. It reminded her a little of herself, and she waved her other free hand in her face. "Ya okay?"
"Hungry," she croaked out, voice crackling in the slightest. Panied eyes vanished behind eyelids and Mesa sensed the conflict in the medic's voice. "Mostly stomach pains."
Wordlessly, the gunslinger rose from her place and walked to her workspace. Mesa picked up one of her recently cleaned cloth knives and brought it over with her back to the bed. Trinity's eyes went wide at the weapon and she reached out to take it from the brunette. "No. Absolutely not. You are not-"
"Save it Trin." Having a blade in hand reminded her all too much of the decisive moment she nearly ended her life when she first met Trinity. She didn't want to think about it nor was she happy with it. Trinity stopped her from making that final decision herself, but this time it was different. Mesa lived with a sentient in her mental space, but that was all it was. She couldn't imagine having to rely on others for sustenance to continue life. Mesa took the time to unwind the bandages from her hands but ignored the scarred skin in favor of searching for a singular vein. She held the knife up to her wrist and waited for the medic's reaction. This time though, she bled for the sake of the woman who saved her life.
Trinity scooted away a few inches, eyes squeezed shut and hands over her ears. Mesa knew she fought her urges, or whatever it was making her irrational.
….the both of you are interesting. You are quite the dedicated person. There were very few people in this world she trusted, and Trinity counted among the lucky few. The gunslinger bit back a soft hiss when she dug the tip just enough to allow a small trickle. She didn't slice far but the crimson beads sliding down her arm should be enough. She set the knife aside and gently shook the medic.
"Trin-"
"Don't."
Mesa shook harder before grabbing her chin and forcing her face upwards. "Trinity. Look. At. Me."
Slowly, those baby blue eyes met hers and she made certain the medic wouldn't ignore her. "Look." She lifted her arm up, mocha skin marred with red rivulets. Mesa watched pupils dilate and picked up on the sharp intake of air – Trinity still hesitated.
"'ah will hate bleeding every time the enemy cold-cucks me with a machete, but 'ah won't hesitate ta spill my own blood if it helps ya." She sat back, arm still offered towards the medic. "Blood is precious ta me. Ya of all people know that. Don't waste it."
Like a kavat, Trinity leaped from her place and grasped her hand before a single drop made it to the sheets. A warm tongue washed over her skin to clean up red lines with such enthusiasm it surprised Mesa. Jolts of pleasure ran up her nerves every time the medic swiped over her skin, heat running up the back of her neck. That mouth eventually wandered to the origin of the precious crimson liquid and Mesa's mind blanked.
Despite teeth and lips stained red from her blood, watching Trinity lap her wrist so carefully and lavishly left her heart beating a little quicker. It was all too much to the point she didn't realize the medic had been staring at her for a few long seconds. "….Mesa?"
Her wrist stopped bleeding. How the blazes-oh. Wait, right. The blonde forgot for a moment Trinity could heal anything and everything. "Yeah?"
"Are you… okay? Not light-headed?"
Mesa pulled her arm back, rotating her wrist a few times. No pain, no difference. "It's only a bit of blood. Don't worry about me. How are ya feelin'?" Arms wrapped around her neck and almost left her gasping for air.
She let the medic hug her for however long she needed.
"….thank you. This… means a lot to me." She sounds sleepy. Instead of replying, Mesa simply wound her arms around the medic's waist in return. The grip slackened enough to where they simply sat there, foreheads touching but eyes never meeting. It seemed her blood had done the trick, but there was a hunger in Trinity's eyes the gunslinger wasn't quite ready for. She knew the sweet, bald woman was holding back and trying to be respectable about her situation. "'ah know there's still a couple other things ya need, but… can we do somethin' else that ain't that for now?"
Trinity's face went blank, but then her mind seemed to re-engage itself and her cheeks went bright red. Few things in this world needed warning labels, and Trinity was officially one of those. Mesa fought the urge to kiss the affably sleepy face. Why does she have ta be so cute?! "It doesn't have to be sexual in nature Mesa. Just physical contact is fine." Well, at least that would be easier to deal with. Her heart felt like it would burst out of her chest if they did anything beyond what was deemed appropriate for the public's eye. "It's not like I suck the souls out of everyone. I just need to tap into their reserves to bolster my own health. I think because of my magic, it counteracts a majority of the effects of both. They're mostly an annoyance although some days they can get a little out of hand."
"Seemed more a necessity, 'ah figured with the way you were acting."
Trinity's blush grew worse. She coughed quietly and looked pointedly away. "Subconscious movement. I didn't know what I was doing honestly. My body reacted on its own." Riiiiiight, mused Mesa silently. "Look, I know this is difficult and you don't have to…"
The gunslinger shook her head. Any reason to get closer to the medic was welcome in her book. Besides, she did promise the commander and she really was a woman of her word. "'ah don't see how huggin' and cuddlin' is supposed ta be difficult. 'ah can live with that much." It was such a strange concept, to be taking care of someone whose job it was to care for everyone else. But times like these made Mesa want to simply lift Trinity up in her arms and carry her wherever she needed - or wanted - to go. "'ah just hope ya don't mind me taking off mah shirt. 'ah usually only wear a tank top."
"I….oh blast. Just.. if I start doing anything remotely stupid, please be sure to stop me?" It was her way of saying it was okay, and Mesa shrugged. She turned around to unbutton her top and slip it off, stiffening when fingers traced the lines of her 'curse.'
"Don't-" Few things in this world Mesa enjoyed, and anyone looking, much less touching, her mark made her uncomfortable.
"I'm not scared, Mesa." Thumbs rubbed soothing circles in her trapezoids, keeping a slow and steady rhythm until she eased up and relaxed. She hummed her approval in response to the gentle touch. "I've faced it once before being less equipped. There are few things that will terrify me, your Sentient included." It seemed her presence alone kept the blasted thing away in her mind, because for once in her life she didn't sense it at all. It really felt like Trinity had become her personal guardian angel and it left her stomach flip flopping happily. She tossed her shirt on her chair and climbed over Trinity to the other side, ripping the sheets off in one sweep and eliciting a soft squeak from the other woman.
"'ah prefer the wall."
"Oh." Mesa mussed everything up a bit to get everything comfortable enough for two people. Really, the beds weren't designed to be shared but given Trinity's delicate frame, it was big enough to hold the both of them as long as the medic remain firmly pressed against her front. When she settled in and secured an arm around a slim waist from behind, the smaller woman shifted until she was able to look up into her eyes. "What exactly are you d-"
"You're tired. I'm exhausted. And it is ridiculously late." She gestured towards the clock on the wall, giving Trinity enough time to read the digital interface before waving the lights off. Mesa really was tired and drifted off almost immediately.
Trinity stretched out fully, or would have if not the comfortable weight surrounding her. Sleep permeated every bit of her being still and instead of shaking it off, she absorbed as much comfort as she could being there. There? That was the question. Where exactly was she? She took a moment to glance about herself, realizing she was in the quarters of another person on board and not her own. Wha-
The quiet murmurings from the person spooning her brought all her memories back in a flood. She flushed when she realized the protective hand on her stomach rubbed circles and their legs were tangled together. Falling asleep with Mesa to her back had been surprisingly easy and she hadn't felt relaxed in such a long time. The taller woman quickly became a security blanket, scaring away insecurities like a light chasing the shadows away. Honestly, she could get used to this. It seemed her waking up also sent her bedmate spiraling back towards reality, because the rubbing stopped and their legs unwound from each other.
"You are really fucking warm, like. Absurdly warm." Trinity giggled quietly and turned around to find herself pleasantly surprised. I really could get used to this. Mesa graced her with another one of her 'I-just-woke-up-and-really-don't-want-to-be-awake' expressions. What prompted a quick dive into the gutters was the way she ignored the fact they were supposed to be platonic friends helping each other out and nuzzled into the hollow of Trinity's throat to plant feather-light kisses along fair skin. "Can you be my personal heater?"
And just like that, it slipped back easily into being a cute, light situation. How could someone so wild as Mesa be so... loveable? "Honestly, I wouldn't mind it either. I haven't slept that well in a while."
The gunslinger propped herself up on her elbows on either side of the medic. Their faces were dangerously close - close enough if Mesa dipped her head down just a fraction their lips could brush in a chaste kiss. Trinity found herself desperately wishing she had the courage to do just that. "Feeling better?"
Mentally? Loads. Physically however, Trinity wanted more of whatever it was they currently shared, but instead she ignored it in favor of keeping their current bond intact. "Much."
I can't believe you're actually doing all of this. Is she really worth all this trouble? Mesa sighed for what had to be the umpteenth time this evening. After a few days of doing nothing but spending all of her time with the medic, Mesa learned a good number of things. One, Trinity loved hugging her like a vermink floof. Like, all the time. Two, she had the capacity to go from sweet and shy to downright alluring and tempting at the snap of a finger. This proved to be a challenge of her willpower not to let her hands roam all over the medic, and thank god for her training to keep that in check. Third, her current charge really liked her cooking.
And that was saying something, considering all Mesa knew were the basics and at best they tasted as bland as pyrol.
She even went out of her way to find Ember and squeezed a few cooking tips out of the golden haired woman, who seemed strangely happy to assist her in her endeavors. Despite running jokes of everyone assuming all she knew how to do was make fried chicken, the pyromancer actually had a skilled hand in the kitchen and more often than not was responsible for their better meals. Lucky to whoever managed to steal her heart. 'Yes, she is worth all the "trouble." Let's face it - we're both better off being nice ta someone who keeps this body in check and ya still alive.'
The voice in her head hummed in agreement. True. While surprising the Sentient agreed with her, Mesa had to eyeroll at all the suggestive comments that came thereafter. Why it was so keen and interested in her personal life all of a sudden didn't make any lick of sense. All this teasing got on her nerves and apparently her ire seeped out to her face when a hand landed on her shoulder. "You know glaring at the pan won't heat it up any quicker."
Mesa found herself meeting dim-lit cyan eyes under a shock of white hair and a hoodie. She looked back to the stove and sighed. "'ah just wanna get out of here before someone else comes in."
The woman beside her hummed in agreement, pulling out some boxes from the shelves and a couple of mugs. The gunslinger hardly interacted with Ivara, if at all, and seeing her outside of missions felt a little strange without her gear. For herself, the fact the both of them shared the communal kitchen belonged to some other alternate universe. "It's not a bad thing to enjoy cooking every now and again. I myself have caught Trinity in here attempting to make a meal once or twice, not often but I'm glad someone is helping her."
Mesa did a double take. "What? Wait, how do ya' know-"
Ivara rolled her eyes and gave her a sidelong glance. "Don't ask."
The gunslinger stared at her skeptically. "Trust me on that."
"Not saying 'ah don't trust ya, but really-"
Ivara rubbed her nose. "I'm a huntress. A lot of my senses are fine-tuned and you have her scent all over you."
The air grew heavy and awkward quickly. "….not that I'm implying you two are doing anything together. You just smell kind of like her."
"Had ta help her a bit. Commander told her ta take time off." Mesa didn't mind the implications, though she did roll her wrist subconsciously.
"Do take care of her, she deserves it." She didn't notice Ivara take her leave, nor the few razorwings trailing after her.
You're unusually distracted. The voice returned, apparently having given her some time to hold a conversation with the huntress. It was a curious switch of tones, from irritatingly taunting to a little nervous and she had to wonder if Ivara had something to do with the Sentient. The gunslinger dropped a whole egg in the pan, letting it sizzle away while grabbing oats from the pantry. 'And?'
I sense it has to do something with your little bat. Mesa smiled at the weird pet names she came to accept. In some ways, Trinity felt more like a bat than an actual vampire. Always wrapped up in blankets, hiding away in tall places, spending more time working through the night than the day despite how early she woke up sometimes. She didn't thirst for blood like how the stories depicted vampires and the way the medic carried herself really didn't show any sort of the fanged-immortal tendencies. The way the raven-haired woman almost lost herself diving for her arm short circuited her brain.
''ah know 'ah ain't normal, but is it weird ta like someone drinking yer blood?' Quietness ensued for a few seconds as she prepared some oatmeal. ...as much as I loathe being here with you, sometimes you ask the strangest of questions. Yes, it is a little odd you enjoy having your life being sucked out of you considering myself.
'
Good point.' She scooped out the egg from the pan onto a plate, adding a bowl of oatmeal on the side. Although I sense it is a sort of pleasure for some...
Mesa rolled her eyes and let her mind drift back to the memory of Trinity holding onto her arm. The more she thought about it, the harder it was to shake the feeling of having the medic tend to her arm so intimately, and her nerves tingled to the point of itching at the unseen force. …I'm curious now. That was not what I imagined you meant.
'What did ya think I meant?' She carefully balanced the food in one hand, mug of coffee in the other.
Something along the lines of laying in a pool of your own blood and some ghastly charger lapping it up like water. Mesa mentally blocked the image for her own mental health. Well, maybe I could let you have your fun. It's intriguing.
She thought the same.
Trinity swore she smelled something like eggs and black coffee from outside the door, but given the fact she was lounging comfortably in mussed sheets she could have very well imagined it. Mesa disappeared off to somewhere and she took advantage of that time to take a quick shower. It had been only a few days since the incident, but with how much the gunslinger pampered her and tended to her like royalty it could have been an eternity or two hours and she'd feel the same way. The woman deemed her current caretaker was surprisingly thoughtful and earnest to earn her keep, it made her that much more attractive and harder to keep her urges in control. She was a being of needs and desires as much as a paragon of vitality and wellness, and the fact she still ached for physical release was getting to her head.
Which was why when her host returned, she felt absolutely no shame in being half dressed to greet her entrance. "Hunhow damn it! Could ya put some clothes on at least Trin?!"
It was sweet with how courteous Mesa was being, eyes squeezed shut tightly with a tray in hand. Of course the medic hadn't bothered with any additional clothes, considering the fact she was testing the waters. Instead of answering, she slipped out of bed to take the tray out of the gunslinger's hand, pressing a kiss to her cheek and humming softly. "I think I'm dressed well enough. Does it bother you?"
"No, 'ah mean yes. 'ah mean- ugh. Fuck's sake…." Seeing the woman's normally cool demeanor completely break down excited her more. Trinity set down the food on the desk, lifting the mug in her hands and sipping at the dark liquid. Having some sustenance however did take the bite of lust off a bit, but only enough for her to have a sensible, clean conversation. "Mesa, I'm not going to beat around the bush, but you are aware that cuddling is only going to go so far."
The gunslinger sighed and slumped against the door. She still kept her eyes averted, but the ever present flush across her cheeks was an adorable sight to behold. "Yes, ah'm aware. 'ah just…"
She trailed off, before gathering her confidence to look Trin straight in her eyes. "'ah like ya. And 'ah don't want things to change between us if we actually go that far."
Oh my sweet… Trinity set her mug down, food completely forgotten as she walked back up to the gunslinger and cupped her cheeks. "Mesa, I think you've completely misread my intentions."
It earned a nervous laugh, but she sensed Mesa's unease. Instead of speaking, Trinity simply leaned in and pressed a carefully chaste kiss against her lips. It was soft and very different than some of the ones she exchanged with a few others prior, and the hunger inside her grew. Not for lust or sexual reprieve, but of the essence Mesa was made of. Her soul may have been corrupted and her mind shattered, but she fought against all odds and somehow managed to reappear in her life as a wandering mercenary looking for work. Trinity found herself more and more drawn to the mystery that was Mesa, but at the end of the day she realized she had slowly fallen in love with the fact the woman was as simple as it got.
"Trin…?" They had pulled apart for some much needed air and the medic could practically taste Mesa arousal in the air. It was sickeningly sweet and it almost made her delirious with hunger. "Ya uh….okay there?"
"I love you Mesa." The heartfelt, honest confession threw the gun slinger for a loop. "You're many things and I'd be a fool for not appreciating anything you've done for me thus far."
"ah'm only repaying you for-"
"It's not just that." Trinity grasped those covered hands and kissed each finger delicately. While her fingers were smooth and small, she knew from experience Mesa's were rough and calloused from so much use and hard work. They spoke of all the things she accomplished and all she endured, and she knew for a fact despite her lowest, the gunslinger always took care of her hands and wrists as much as possible. They were her - literal - guns, housing the gunpowder and ammunition necessary for Peacemaker to work. And Trinity could only think of the possibilities if she were left in the care of those very same hands. "You were the only one in my life I couldn't save that I wanted to the most. I cried for days thinking about you and how I left you there. I regretted leaving you behind instead of returning you to your family, but I was wrong to think you too had been overtaken by the Infestation and my squad mates wanted me out as quickly as possible."
Tears stung her eyes and all her libido went out the window as she clutched onto Mesa front. "You're the only person who doesn't make my life harder, but easier in so many ways. You do things for me without asking, you're dependable and caring in your weird ways."
Trinity was silenced before she could say another word. When Mesa pressed in for a kiss that literally took her breath away, she found herself speechless for once in her life and stared into eyes glazed over with lust. But within those inky pools, she saw another layer of tenderness and acknowledgement she'd not recognize beforehand.
"Alright miss Fancy Pants." The random jest made her laugh even as odd as it could be at times. "Ya don't need a bunch of flowery an' emotional shit with me. 'ah get it. Ya like me, 'ah like ya, and at some we're both gonna end up with no clothes on - well 'ah suppose ah'm the one losin' em."
"You don't have to put it that way." The fact she herself mentally warred with baser instincts gave her enough trouble. "But we can take it as slow as you - and I - want."
The look that Mesa gave her - one so full of unadulterated love and adoration - was enough to send her heart and stomach aflutter. She found herself swept off her feet in one motion and carried towards the bed, but that was all she needed to completely surrender herself to her eager vagabond.
After all, they had so much more tying them together.
A/N: AHHHHHHHH. Okay, so this was probably the hardest one to rewrite simply because I was super unhappy with the first go-around. It took me three-four rewrites before I was finally satisfied enough with the end result, and I still feel a bit incomplete.
I think it's probably because Mesa Prime is coming out in two days, and I have an idea floating somewhere in my head for that, so expect a part two to this particular pairing.
Thank you to everyone who has stopped by and taken a look at my other one-shot The Queen and the Huntress! I've never had that many visitors to a singular story, and I genuinely hope you guys enjoyed it and I did them justice.
As always, feel free to leave a comment, review, or message! Thanks for reading!