I've been digging the present tense (if you haven't noticed hahaha) so I figured I'd continue on the theme until I get bored of it. Not happy with some of this, but I wanted to get it out quickly hahaha.


Steff cannot help but feel extraordinarily frustrated.

She doesn't act on it, of course, for she's never been one to lash out and lose self control like that, but the gnawing feeling of being upset is still ever-present. It seemed to be such a waste of time for little information reaped. No doubt will Mason regard Luca's silence on the matter for her own incompetency. She wonders how it would have played out if Mason had gone in her place. Would he have left Luca in the church for another day? He would have probably fabricated some threat that she knows he could make reality. It seems he has the power to do such, at times.

A loud flurry of wings startles her a little as a bird swoops close to her head and then past her, blue feathers glimmering in the lamp-light.

"Give it back," a little warlock girl complains, running a few meters in front of Steff to dart after the squawking magpie. Her hands are outstretched, chasing the ribbon to one of her pigtails that it grabbed. Some vampire whistles and holds out an outstretched arm, the charmed tune luring in the magpie to land on his arm.

"Tch. Bullying little girls," the vampire laughs and tugs the ribbon from the magpie's little talons to hand it back to the girl. They clear off cordially as soon as they appear. The Towns are fleeting like that.

Quickly recovered, Steff almost smiles a little at the exchange. It isn't all bloodshed and demons and drug cartels, she sometimes forgets, and she wishes others could remember that it's home to many as well.

The Downworlder Towns unnerve her still, of course, but they do not frighten her as they once did. Now, she only makes sure the runes on her arms are covered, never one to search for unwanted attention. There are never many people outside of the main center of the Towns, so she does not know whether to feel disconcerted or at peace with the scarcity of people in the streets. Mostly, people pay her no mind. It is the one quality she likes, for many there value the element of privacy. The pessimism of her night catches up with her again, though, and the smile that started to linger in the back of her mind is blotted away. Despite trying to assign it some meaning, she thinks this night has been for nothing except proving to Mason that she can't do a simple task. He won't understand that it's not her fault.

She thinks she may be frustrated with Luca because she's disappointed in him. How earnestly he seems to want to help and then, like some indecisive fox, goes back on his word. Mason will call it a besetting sin of Downworlders, but she tries to not assign otherworldly species such negative stereotypes. They haven't all wronged her. It just makes her feel that perhaps she isn't as good at judging people as she likes to believe.


Aspen jumps when a familiar voice sounds a few meters behind him. He hasn't been paying attention, not when his thoughts are so deeply imbedded in different matters, and he kicks himself inwardly when he turns to face the origin of the voice.

"I don't think I've managed to startle you before, Aspen," Gwyn says, sounding slightly amused as he pulls closer on his horse. "I would think you would be on higher alert."

"Sorry-..." The word comes to his mouth strangely and he almost looks meek as he watches Gwyn, his hand rested on one of his swords and his other hand playing with the clasp of his cloak. "I figure you've just gotten me at a bad time."

"Is it something I need to know about?"

He pauses, and then shakes his head. "I'd say not."

"Good." Gwyn dismounts from his horse to be at conversation level with Aspen, his antler adorned helmet fastened to his back at the ready. Aspen's tall, but Gwyn is taller, and he can't help but feel small in a world that has already proven its might. "I've come with news that the Unseelie is on the move. They will move slowly at first, I imagine, but they will no doubt pick up speed when they pass Hunt territory. Their numbers are large, but from what I have seen, our forces plus the Seelie will certainly easily outnumber them."

He knows better than to ask how he got the information. Gwyn has his ways, and he has proven his elusiveness and stealth time and time again.

"Yes...I do think so. With less recruits, we've been able to...train better and so forth," Aspen starts, trying to make a linear sentence. A sour thought that he does not believe he has created gets seeded in his brain. "I will tell the supervisors and the...Seelie representatives what you've told me."

"I expect as such." Patting his horse when it whinnies, Gwyn surveys the surroundings before focusing back on Aspen. "This battle will be an easy win if it is fought right. I have collaborated with the Seelie in the past and I know of their power. We are a strong ally to have and they will certainly fight the Unseelie with a vengeance. However, I want to ensure that the Hunt is kept safe. I know many will fight with courage, but extra efforts should be directed towards those that were once Unseelie. I do not doubt that they know this is their home, but loyalties can sometimes be murky. And-...Aspen. I like to know my supervisors are listening when I'm speaking to them."

It takes Aspen a few moments before he realizes that his hand has tightened around the hilt of his sword, as if to draw it, and he feels hot. Like he's swallowed live embers. Like someone has singed the edge of his mind to make ash of his sense. His chest burns and so does his face when he releases the hilt and faces Gwyn again. At the moment, he chalks it up to some uncharacteristic embarrassment. Shame. Something like that.

"I-...Can you repeat?" Trying to think back doesn't help. He comes up empty, the last minute gone up in smoke.

Gwyn does, and he sounds more concerned than annoyed. It is odd, but Aspen thinks that he has not heard Gwyn speak so much. He's always been thoughtful and well-spoken, but choosy when it comes to times to express so. Now, it seems as if he's speaking for the both of them, for Aspen finds his tongue unusually unwilling to cooperate. A foreign itch to draw his sword plagues him, and he wills himself to gain control again. That's what happens when he stays up too much, filling his head with nonsense. The madness of the Faerie, he thinks, is starting to get to him.

"I do hope you will help lead the forces to victory," Gwyn finishes with, his head inclined and his expression calm as if he finds little to fear in the prelude to such an event.

"Yes...Of course."

"Now, Aspen, I suggest you go take care of whatever you need to take care of." Taking the reins of his horse, Gwyn clicks his tongue to get its attention. "We will speak about...whatever is going on with you after the battle. I can't afford to have any instability."

Aspen looks like he's going to protest, but Gwyn holds up a hand to stop him, his expression denoting the finality of their conversation. It seems as if he's going to speak again, but he doesn't, giving him a nod and then moving to lead his horse off to wherever he rides in his time away from the Hunt. The breeze picks up, whipping black hair in Aspen's eyes, and then Gwyn is gone. His thoughts are still there, though, as well as the nagging feeling that something isn't quite right, so he is wary when he starts off. While he does not think he has ever been so confident about winning a battle, he cannot help but sense pessimism in his mood. Something's off, but he just can't place what.


Jai thinks that his best trait is also the one that will destroy him.

He finds that he's all too willing to condemn himself for the sake of someone else, and he's willing to put up with more than he deserves with the mentality that it's a one-off instance, even when he knows he's wrong. That's perhaps how he survived so long with his mother. Instead of moving on, he chooses to blame whatever torment afflicts her mind, their past, the drinks, the way he can't quite do the right things and change his face to look a little less like his father-... Although he moved away, it still plagues him, like it'll follow him into this semi-stable life he's created. It's not really that steady, but he has little security to compare it to.

And Finn's his friend, maybe his only friend, but he's a little too unpredictable and dangerous and childish to really make any good decisions and Jai finds that he's left to hold the excess of what Finn shrugs off. That boy is a charmer, sure, but he has no foresight.

"Ugh. I lost another game today," Finn complains one night when he gets home, sagging a little and pulling his scarf off to toss it aside. "Sucks, right? Well, I didn't really lose. They just caught me cheating."

It's a normal thing, and Jai smiles at first, concerned but not morbidly. Finn's just being Finn.

The instances start to increase in frequency. He can't help but be a little worried, now.

"Yikes. I realize I have to really hit it big. Wouldn't that be nice, Jai?" Finn says later down the month, having lost track of the debts he owes. "We could move to a mansion and own, like, a candy shop or something. That'd be really cool."

Buying and spending isn't the first thing that comes to mind when Finn says such a thing. Even if Finn hasn't been counting, Jai has, and the debts are more than he thinks the two of them can afford together. Is Finn so nearsighted than he can't see what he's doing? The foolishness that he's getting himself into? The negative thoughts are few and far between, especially when Finn manages to crack some new joke that lifts his spirits each night that he isn't working, but the cynicism still hits hard. It's good to have a friend that will stay beside him and will work hard to keep him emotionally steady and upright, but it's that friendship that has him roped into the toxic affairs he once tried to escape.

It's not unbearable, working when and what he can to get the extra cash to keep Finn just out of trouble, and the thought of abandoning him not once crosses his mind. Still, he can't help but think his life could be so much easier. It seems it's just the type of person that gravitates towards him. They need help, and he's all too willing to keep giving.

"Your birthday's soon," Finn says one day, muffled as he talks with a lolly in his mouth. "I'm gonna get you something nice."

"You don't have to," Jai replies quickly, pushing his glasses up his nose. "I don't think we can afford it."

"Silly. I'll just work my sleight-of-hand magic and get a bit of cash off some rich guy in a tavern." He sounds a little too cheerful, but Jai doesn't say anything to negate it. If he does, he thinks it might dampen his mood. "Besides, you've helped me lots. I just wanna do something nice."

"And nice is...robbery?"

"Ah, I'm Robin Hood, Jai. Taking money from the rich to give to the poor." Finn hops onto the couch to recline back, always a little restless. "Just so happens that we are the perfect recipients."


...

"how...quaint this plan seems, isn't it?"

"it's not as much of a plan as it is a game, lovely. you'll see that small-scale havoc is much more enticing. it is more enjoyable to play with one, than hundreds. it's personal. even intimate, one might say."

"oh, you jest. will he be afraid?"

"certainly."

"delectable. and when he is dead? shunned? persecuted?"

"there are others to prey on. other weak-minded souls."

"you fiend. i did have my doubts, but you seem to know what you are doing."

"it is fun to be in control. addicting, some may say. we have waited long enough for this one. i reckon we will have our fun soon."

"you already had a taste. let me have the reins on this one. i have seen his thoughts. i have a plan."

"is it elaborate?"

"not at all. see, i think simplicity is key. he is but a mere plaything. let us save our elaborate plots for later."

"how quaint. i cannot wait to see how this pet plays dirty."