Four
The store doesn't have a name, but it has a history. For decades owners upon owners of the store have been found dead - either from mysterious circumstances, or slit throats. It is a nondescript place, blending in with all the others stores around it. Black stones, it's windows always foggy - after all the plants have to be kept warm. Though it had no name officially, people call it the Poison Ivy. An old gray-green wood sign hung by its door, with a crude poison ivy leaf engraved into its surface.
Deke Derwin hates the Poison Ivy. Being in it makes the hair on the back of his neck stand on end. He's in a constant state of fear. Things happen in this place... the last owner had been found...all that had been left of him had been some sort of green gooey substance.
It'd happened only a few weeks ago. The day after he arrived on the planet, and first stepped into the store. He'd stumbled into the goopy mess that was the former owner. Deke was sure the putrid smell of it would never fully leave the air of the shop.
It made him uneasy that a new owner popped up the next day, it was an assumption, but a safe one. The new owner was the murderer of the last owner. Deke has been trying to avoid him - a strange alien creature. But it's rather difficult given his assignment is to stakeout the store. Waiting for a customer to buy all the ingredients needed for the spells his boss' contract is for. It's been a good while since that first disgusting day, and still no one has purchased a thing.
Specifically a certain creepy, dead looking black flower. Highly volatile, and extremely poisonous. It is a class A felony to buy it, let alone use it. If this job wouldn't help him stay in the financially plush world he prefers, he wouldn't be here. But some risks are worth the reward. Even if it means feeling as if he is being watched at all times, the owner of the store, he seems to excel at lurking up behind Deke, always giving him a rather creepy smile.
Also he is bored. It's been weeks of waiting - boss said he expected that to happen but that didn't help Deke's patience. Someone with the ability to do the spells would not be quick to take on the contract - they had to check out the rumors, decide if they found the money being offered worth the risk The boss kept ordering him to be more patient. Deke instead keeps repeating the number of zeros on his pay check to remind himself why he's here, stuck waiting for something that may not even happen. And trying not picture himself as a pile of icky green goo.
Deke jumps startled as his phone goes off. The shrill ring sounding louder than usual as it bounces off the walls of the empty store. The owner gives him a look as he fumbles to answer it. He ignores the creepy alien however and braces himself for the shrewish tone of his wife's voice.
"Dudley Derwin Dansen, the second," he answers, pretending he doesn't know it's her. He knows it annoys her, and annoy her he will. He wishes no one had found a way to make interplanetary phone calls. As she begins to speak, he curses the idiots who found the technology.
"Do something about your son!" That's another thing, she never ever calls Dudley, The third her son. He doesn't want to claim the child any more than she does. It never should have had him.
"What now?" He rolls his eyes.
"He saw that their is a life sized voltron replica for..."
"Oh for fu..."
"I know, I know...but he wont' shut up, Deke...you can get it for him right, only way to shut him up?"
Deke sighs, he rolls his eyes. "Allow him to send me the info, I'm sure I know a guy who knows a guy."
"Thank goodness, maybe I can him keep him away from me for the rest of the week then...though the newest nanny is about to quit, I can see it, she has that look."
"Then hire another one, don't whine to me about it," Deke hangs up her. He'd divorce her, leaving her saddled with Dudley but she's beautiful and makes a good trophy on his arm. She is using him too, of course. She likes the perks of his paychecks. Clothes, jewelry, furs... Dudley's just as greedy as she is, except he asks for Voltron related prizes. If Deke's boss ever found out his son was a Voltron fanboy, Deke may find himself in jail. He shudders at the thought.
"Time to close!" The alien behind the counter yells as if the store is packed with people. He does the same thing everyday - reminding Deke he's being watched. Deke can't do a thing about it, though he wonders why he hasn't been thrown out for loitering - he suspects the owner has his own motives. After all everyone on Sceadu does, plus he killed to be in the position he is... Deke isn't stupid, he has to wonder if the owner himself may be interested in the boss' contract.
The owner yells that he closing a second time. Deke sighs, feeling as if another damn day has been wasted. He reminds himself, again that this job is going to line his pockets with whole lot green. Green, his idiot son Dudley already has plans for, he remembers as his son's request pops up on his cell phone screen.
He hopes someone will actually want that damn ugly flower soon. He's getting quite fed up risking his life this - money or no money he doesn't want to be a pile of goo. He forces himself not to look over his shoulder as he leaves the shop
~.~
He chuckles as he watches the red-haired man leave the store. The man has been loitering around the Alterea plant since he became the proud owner of the Poison Ivy. It had been an easy murder, a bit of poison in the last owner's tea, and his body decomposed into green goo. A painful death but the end result was messy. And the gruesome nature of the death made taking ownership of this delightful little plant store easy. Those in line to run the store hesitated due to the messy murder and left the door wide open for him. Yes, he and Wade's little flunky spent their days in the store waiting for the same thing.
Oh, he knew Wade was the power behind the contracted spells. Of course it isn't common knowledge that the Grand Marshall of the Alliance dabbles in the dark arts - if you can count hiring occultists as dabbling. But he has always been sure to have his fingers in all sorts of pots. You found more honey that way. Oh, yes, he knew of Wade's sins. If only he knew them all, knowledge of where the Black Lion is secreted away would be power.
For now his focus was on the spells. Such juicy, wonderful spells...he rubbed his hands together. Thinking of them made him giddy. And he may gain more knowledge about them... He has been trying for years, to duplicate the very spells Wade's contract is for. He'd been delighted the day he learned of Wade's desires.
He knew the chances anyone could make the spells work were low. Whoever answers this contract may be someone trying to scam the contractor out of his money. He could try to scam Wade out of the lofty sum he was offering... But no, no it would be far more interesting to see what someone else knew...what if someone did know how to make them work... Oh, it would be delicious to know how to make the magic happen, to be able to create such beautiful, epic monsters.
He laughs as he closes up the shop. Allowing his hopes to be high. Oh yes...to make the spells work, that would be a wondrous day. But even learning anything new about the Haggarian spells would be time well spent... even if that yielded no success there is still Wade's flunky, who leads to Wade himself. The more information he has, all the better.
He fingers the alterea plant, careful not to ruin the petals. Yes, soon, soon someone would come in for this special lovely, beautiful plant. He smiles, and hums a happy tune because he feels it in his bones...Beautiful new knowledge will fall into his hands.
~.~
Yesterday after viewing the vidcom of Keith and discussing what Farla knew of the spells, they bought the beakers, burners, liquid chemicals, and various other things needed to create the spells. To attempt to anyway, a shiver rushes up and down her spine. And it isn't from the cold of Sceadu. As they shopped they had made it clear Farla was an occultist - an occultist - the word alone made her queasy. But it is a needed subterfuge. She could live with strangers on a foreign planet thinking she craves to control the power of chaotic dark arts. It is a small price considering she is helping the Voltron Force.
But it bothers her. The spells scare her. Farla woke early, from a sleep filled with anxious dreams. And found herself staring out the window again. She focuses on the snow. Watches the little eddies it makes as it allows the wind to guide its descent. She breathes in and out, to slow her heart, to calm her anxiety, letting the snow and wind create her rhythm. She's always loved the quiet of the pre-dawn, has always found it peaceful and calming. She embraces that peace now.
Or tries to.
Today they'll buy the rest of the needed ingredients. For the spells. Those spells - she shivers and wraps her arms around herself. Her flowers. Lyra's flowers. The Lyrose itself is a vital component to the three spells. Lyra's flowers. A gift from Lyra, the Goddess herself. The Lyrose stands for peace, and balance. It is a symbol of thriving life. For it to be used...for it to be used to bring about an end of one state of living, and turn that life into something dark and corrupt... Farla fights back tears.
Robeasts are an abomination. Because they are living souls twisted by dark magic into something animal, primal.. Robeasts are beings who have had their free will ripped away.
The snow isn't helping her find any calm. She sighs and walks across the room to the chair opposite the fold out couch Hunk is asleep on. She climbs into it, crosses her legs under her, and closes her eyes. Maybe prayer...or maybe real meditation will help to smooth her jangled nerves. She whispers the prayer of solace to herself...but even before she gets through the first stanza her mind is attacked with unwanted thoughts.
Maybe I shouldn't be doing this... No, this is the only way. Would the Elders approve? I can hear mother now, telling me I'm walking off Lyra's approved path...
She lets out a frustrated breathe. This isn't helping, quiet - she needs to shut up her thoughts. Deep inhale in. Slow exhale out. Listen to the quiet of the pre-dawn, drink it in, see a smooth lake with no ripples in her mind...
Only the room isn't perfectly quiet... Hunk starts to snore, loud and sudden, Farla jumps in her skin, eyes flying open to look at where the sound came from, just in time to hear...
"AND, I'LL ROCK MY SOLO!" He tarts to sleep-play an air guitar.
"Goddess, that is so cute," she giggles. It's the perfect distraction. The insecure, fearful thoughts dissipate as her thoughts become focused on her partner-in-undercover. Hunk isn't what she expected...
Though could anyone live up to such heroic standards? Not that she thinks Hunk lives them down - just the opposite really. But she's seen the man not the legends now. They've known each other briefly, a blink of an eye really... yet...
The weight of their mission has been apparent in their interactions, in what they do and don't say. When she saw the vid of Keith Kogane... what she already knew was important became paramount. And she saw it in Hunk eyes also...
He'd admitted his own fears of being responsible for this and all she could do was echo them - she's terrified. But he made it feel bearable by letting her see his own fear. He put her on equal footing with him - which in some ways she finds insane, yet his openness gave her solid ground.
She met his eyes as he shared his own fear, and seen one of the most genuine souls she's ever had the pleasure of meeting He has a warmth that he chose to share with her. He offered his friendship and told her she is his equal, when he could be just her commander. They are in on this together. Both of them afraid but determined to try...
And it's more than that... His offer of friendship came after that woman...from his past had shocked him. Farla had watched Hunk be vulnerable in a way no ONE wants a stranger to see. She'd glimpsed something intimate...been there while he felt stripped.
Farla pushes away her curiosity, I have no right to it... As she remembers him, trying to disappear into a wall. That he was willing to trust her, after facing someone from his past he obviously does not trust... She can't put words to how honored and how amazed his openness to her made her feel.
He even understood how hard the mission was for her spiritually. His asking her about it, his listening to her. That too she appreciates it in a way she'll never adequately be able to express. She feels she and Hunk are creating a good foundation for what she hopes will become friendship...
"I didn't do it!" Hunk shouts suddenly, waking himself up. Farla starts and realizes she's been staring at him since his first outburst. Her cheeks heat, she prays she isn't too red.
"Didn't do what?" she blurts.
"Uh..." he blinks at her, slowly going from sleepy to slightly awake. "Don't know," he grins. "Bet it was fun."
She laughs. "Well, good morning."
"Good morning, Flower Lady."