Operation Bosco

by Fallen Ark Angel

No one said liberating a Kingdom would be easy. - Part of the Remember Me series.

8. A Call to Arms, V

Operation Bosco: A Call to Arms, V

"Where you? Before you were here?"

Haven stared rather blankly at the three women before her, considering more carefully her reply than she typically would have. There was the honest answer, the less honest answer, and then the one that she chose that wasn't too far off from reality.

"Ewing manor," Haven admitted softly. "I wasn't there for long and got removed. Sold to some traders. Ended up here."

"Here." The woman seated across from her nodded. "You ended up here."

Here, in that moment, meant back at the bunk house. After much toiling, Haven had finally earned her coveted position at the table with the three head women of The Factory. It wasn't the ideal placement in which she'd envisioned herself. No. She wasn't be welcomed into the group; she was being scolded.

It felt kind of silly. Maybe. And if she were her old self, her well rested, properly fed, not overly stressed out self, then maybe the entire concept wouldn't be as disheartening as it felt currently. But she wasn't sleep. Eating. And had been panicking over Shae since she left. Then she'd also had to worry about Alwood.

There was just a lot going on, all at once, and while she'd craved such things, back when she was originally with Fairy Tail, out on jobs with the biggest safety net of all waiting back home, or maybe even during her time spent on the road, where she knew she could cut and run, had no ties at all, and could leave whenever she needed, things just weren't that way anymore. She was playing in something bigger than herself and failure wasn't just something she could pretend didn't exist. Could twist into small gains and wins to hide in her own ego. The ultimate goal, the final stakes, were far too high.

Crigin had gotten the first of the three women he found, T, and marched her right to the shed. The guard that had sent Locke on his way, Anderson, didn't refused to look at Haven and, instead, it was mainly Crigin's gaze that she was left with, the sickening feeling crawling back into her throat as he spoke to T.

"She's fucking one of the guards," Crigin remarked with a leer Haven's way. "Caught 'em."

"N-Not me!" Anderson tossed up his hands when T glanced his way. "I was just-"

"I'll take her from here," T assured both men simply. "If you'll allow me."

"Go right ahead," Crigin remarked with a demented grin thrown Haven's way. Still, she tried hard to avoid his gaze, to portray shame, maybe fear? She did feel something, at least, when T gripped her arm rightly and the older woman began to walk her back across the property, leaving the shed behind.

The others were out bathing. Haven could hear them nearby, in the pond. T only forced her into the bunkhouse, taking her over to the typical head women's table and shoving her towards it.

"Sit," she told Haven tightly and while she wasn't the one to usually follow directives, she did so automatically in that moment.

T disappeared from the cabin for a short time, in which she seemed to only go and gather her two cohorts as it was the three of them, soon enough, that Haven found herself speaking with.

Gyu was the one that sat directly in front of her, her dark hair pulled tightly back in a bun, leaving her wrinkled, sun-dried face to be fully exposed. Her eyes felt heavy as they forced Haven's gaze and when she spoke, it was in a stern tone.

"Ewing's manor," Gyu remarked slowly. "It's been a bit, since I've found myself off this one. However, that name still strikes a certain...fear in the heart. What exactly did you do to find yourself sent away from there?"

"I was really," Haven told her simply, "shitty at my job."

T coughed, trying to hide what might have been a laugh into it, while Wanda only slammed an open fist down on the table and Haven could tell, already, that she would be her biggest problem.

"Do you think," Wanda questioned her tightly, "that this is a joke?"

"No," Haven replied, swallow. "I just...was really shit there too."

"Is that how you think it works?" Gyu asked then. "That you can just be terrible at the work that they give you and get shipped around? Is that what you hope?"

"I-"

"It doesn't matter." T cleared her throat this time, after speaking. Then, she added, "Whatever you did here… It didn't matter. And sleeping with that guard has done little to assist you either. Nothing that you did here mattered. The second you came."

"T," Gyu began, but the other woman only shrugged.

"It's nearly the end of the week," T insisted. "Alwood will surely depart then. And she'll be accompanying him." Then, looking at Haven, she said, "There. That's truth. You drew the short end of the stick. Nothing you did mattered; it was decided before you even knew what was happening."

This was hardly news to Haven, something she'd long figured out, but still, she tried hard to feign some surprise as she questioned, "Alwood?"

"I warned you." Wanda was still glaring at her. "That first day. I was the one that welcomed you and the others to the manor. And I told you the people were you were not to mess with. The guards. The Master. And Master Alwood. I told you that the work was easy and you merely had to do as you were told. But you couldn't, could you? You just had to sneak away, every other day, to be with your precious little guard-"

"You," Gyu interrupted with a look then, to Wanda, "knew?"

"I… I did note her absence, yes. It is my job to keep tallies of the women through the course of the day," Wanda defended. "She hardly chose to hide herself. And Wick has been suspicious of that new guard anyways. He's spoken to me on it."

"You talk to Wick about things before you speak on them to us?" T asked with a look, but as Wanda only glared, Gyu shook her head some, focusing back in on the younger woman before them.

"By the end of the week," she told her simply, "you will find yourself heading out to Master Alwood's manor, will you will find a far less pleasurable experience awaiting you."

"What does he do?" Haven thought to ask as, though she knew the answer, it would still benefit her to sound concerned.

"Sells us," Gyu shifted then, to roll up her sleeve and reveal it herself. Her marking.

Haven had no doubt it had stained her skin for the majority of her life and, yet, it looked the same. Stark and out of place. For someone who grew up seeing emblems adorn flesh, the slave marking felt insulting. It meant great pride, to have embedded on your flesh the marking of your guild. And yet here...here…

"And not for normal means," the woman continued before, with a shrug, she rolled back down her sleeve. "Though, perhaps it could be considered that."

"Why?" Haven asked. "Did he pick me? Or you picked me? To go there?"

"We don't...pick people go with him." T was focused back in on her then, it seemed. "It's our job to chose women, for the Master. It's his discretion for the ones he doesn't want to be given to Master Alwood. That's not our decision."

"But you chose who went up to penthouse. Didn't you?" Looking around the table at the three of them then, Haven insisted, "the three of you decide who gets to go upstairs and who immediately goes off to Alwood's place. You chose for me to go-"

"We do," Wanda took over, her tone still tight as she, quite clearly, was annoyed with the younger woman, "what we're ordered to. The same as you."

"You hold power," Haven retorted. "And I don't. You're not the same as me."

"Power?" T questioned.

"Power," Haven agreed. "I didn't choose to come here. And I bet you didn't either. But you get to choose how long I stay. I don't."

But Wanda only snorted. "You slept with a guard. To try and get this 'power'. Didn't you?"

Leveling her gaze with the woman's Haven said, "If I'm going to Alwood's, why are you even concerned with me? Any of you?"

It was while the three of them were so keyed into her though that it happened. A sharp knock at the bunkhouse door before it was flung open.

There he stood then, Wick, the grizzled man having something dark in his eyes as he held a woman tightly by her forearm. Haven didn't recognize her and, honestly, the three women at the table had mostly forgotten her presence until that moment. It was Lize, eyes welled with tears and confusion as well as a bit of pain, maybe, as Wick's grip seemed like a vice.

Wanda jumped up, immediately, rushing over while the other two women only stared curiously.

"Another?" Wanda asked softly, but Wick merely huffed heavily.

"The young Master has decided to make a trade, with Alwood, at the request of one of the guards." Releasing the woman, Wick shoved Lize some, further into the bunkhouse. "She's going with Alwood now. The other one, there… She's not."

"But-"

"Monty's orders," Wick cut Wanda off. "You're to keep that one in the Factory. For now. And send this one with the others when it's time, to Master Alwoods. Understood?"

As she nodded slightly, Wanda only moved then to gently pull Lize towards her. She jerked away, once, Lize did, but at Wanda's insistence, only sniffled some and allowed herself to be tugged along.

Then Wick was gone and Haven wasn't of concern any longer. There seemed to be some confusion, among the three, but they couldn't rightly hash it out right then and there and instead split up. Gyu needed to go get the women from the pond while the other two had to gather the prepared dinner rations from the kitchen in the main house. Their typical schedule was already altered and they needed to get back on it.

Wanda left Lize with a bit of a reassuring smile, maybe, and a gentle command to just rest, and then it was just the two of them. In the bunkhouse. Haven slowly rose from the table to go stare at where Lize sat, a mess, there on one of the bottom bunks. At the feeling of her gaze, Lize rose her own and then they were just staring at one another there, for a long few seconds, in silence.

"Don't cry too much," Haven offered easily, not much of one to provide sympathy or comfort. "You're not going to fucking Alwood's." Raising up an arm, she didn't anticipate her lightning this time, knowing it was still locked away, but rather allowed some of the demonic energy to ooze from her palm, purple and glowing, toying a bit with what she contained. "No one is."

But this wasn't well known to Shae who, at that moment, was pacing about the penthouse, a wreck, and feeling rather lost.

"It makes sense," one of the women tried to reason, early on, when Monty had slunk off, alone for once, to his bedroom, and the remaining women stowed away in one all together. "I mean, he usually wouldn't choose outside of the pattern, but they did bring three girls up, remember? But only sent one down? He's probably trying to balance the numbers."

But this did little to ease the concerns of the women amassed in the small room as they considered, now, their own value and placements.

Taree, softly, questioned, "Pattern?"

"Aye." One of the women, a gaunt and pale one that seemed to hail from Seven given her accent, spent her time drinking from a bottle of liquor, by the window, where she watched the moon rise in the summer evening. "Monty gets a shipment in, every two months, some women are sent up here, some are sent down. It cycles. Lize… She'd been here the longest, now. Hasn't she? Since I've come, at least. It was her turn. Can't skate by forever."

"How can you say that?" Shae had her arms crossed over her chest, a sour look on her face as she insisted, "Lize was one of us. She-"

"One of us?" Another woman clicked her tongue. "What the fuck does that even mean? Do you think that Lize would worry about us? If we were sent down? Issa just was. Sent down. To make room for you, Taree, and Anna. It's the way that it works."

"But why?" Shae questioned. "Huh? I'm not going to fucking go. Are you? Any of you? Fuck this. And they're not taking Lize. She doesn't belong to them. To anyone. I'm going to get her back."

"Oh yeah?" The woman from Seven paused her drinking, just to glance over at her. "How exactly?"

Shae felt like she was undercutting Haven and Locke, maybe completely blowing up whatever the two of them had going on, but finally, she seemed to have the full attention (though also animosity, maybe) of all the women in the penthouse and it felt like her chance. Her opportunity. The point was to get all the women in the penthouse on the same page, on her side, and, well, it was now or never.

"The guard that I was with, that first night..." Shae reached into her bra then, to produce some of the vials Locke had given her. "He's into some...weird shit. I took these off him."

"W-What are they?" Anna asked softly.

"Potions," Shae assured them all with a nod. "They're to knock someone out."

"What are you going to do with them?" one of the other women asked, eyeing her then and Shae only shook her head.

"I don't know." Gripping them tightly though, she insisted, "But we have to do something. We can do something."

"And fuck it up," the woman from Seven asked around her drink, "and all get sent to Alwood's?"

"Where the fuck do you think we're going anyways?" Shae retorted. "We'll all come down from this penthouse eventually, but I'm not going as a crying little bitch. Fuck Monty and fuck Al-"

"Shut up." One of the women, a dark headed one who'd kept mostly quiet in all the time Shae had been up in the penthouse, sprang to her feet at that. Momentarily, Shae feared some sort of weird, protect your abuser situation to sprout as the woman advanced on her, but it wasn't to attack or reprimand her. Not truly. Instead, she only reached to snatch one of the bottles, rolling it around in her own hand before saying, "We have to keep our voices down. If we're going to do this. We have to-"

"You're going to get yourselves fucking killed." The woman from Seven wasn't letting up. Only continued to glare out at the window. "You know that?"

"We just have to get out of this penthouse," Shae insisted. "And if we use this to drug...someone, then-"

"Then what? You get out of the penthouse and then what?" the other women kept up. "Huh? The other guards catch you and-"

"And what if we've drugged them too?" Taree asked, again softly. "Maybe?"

"Fine," the woman from Seven gave in. "You drug them too and then you make it downstairs. Somehow passed Alwood and his own entourage. Then what? You go into the factor, take Lize, and go where? Huh? Just run off, away from the property? They will hunt you down. All of you. And probably kill you. They don't let shit like this go easily."

"What even is this?" one of the women asked. "An uprising?"

"Could be." The dark haired woman before Shae glanced about all of them. "This could be the start of something. I'm from fucking Joya. We just don't lie down and die there. We do something about it. I… I might even already having something of a plan."

There was a lot of head shaking and drinking that night, but for the first one in a long time, all of the women in the penthouse avoided the filthy hands of the young master or his guards and it was difficult to call any night spent under such threats as comfortable, but it was the closest it could become.

Locke had a terrible night though. After leaving Monty, he skipped out on dinner and instead hid out in his room where a few of the guys knocked at his door and spoke to him lightly, but overall, he just laid awake worrying about the consequences of the morning. If everything went to shit and Haven wasn't spared, then he'd have to get both her and Shae out of there. It would be no small feat, but surely the one he'd signed up for.

His eyes were red and the sun felt too bright, when the morning came around, but he only tumbled out of his bed regardless, off to try and stomach a meal before facing the day's decisions.

Downstairs in the kitchen, he got some of the judgmental stares of his equals, which sucked, but it was very overshadowed by the fact Alwood's assistant was there as well, having just requested a tray from the kitchen and now carrying it off, no doubt to the man himself. Faced with claiming a seat at one of the table with the other guards or helping out the woman, Locke rushed to take the tray from her.

"Hey," he greeted as he did so. "Let me carry that for you."

She smiled at him, warmly, allowing this as she remarked, "I'm just heading to your Master's office. My own is very busy in there, after all."

"After all," Locke agreed, frowning some at the thought of the man. "I was just about to eat myself, before my first shift."

"You do keep a rather tight schedule," she agreed with him. "Well, from what I hear."

And he frowned then, at her, before saying, "What do you mean?"

"Nothing much ever happens on this property, the few times I've been around," she replied simply. "So you decided, just for me, to cause a big stir before I leave? I must thank you for breaking up the monotony."

Paling some, he remarked, "I don't know what you-"

"Men gossip just as much as women," she assured him curtly. "They just don't realize it enough to properly revel in it. Everyone knows. Well, everyone of importance, I guess. This might be surprising to you, but that most certainly includes myself and my master. Every action has a reaction."

Locke only shook his head as he told her, "I really don't wanna talk about-"

"Neither do I," she said. "I just thought it would be awkward not to bring up. On any other manor, especially of this size, this would hardly be of concern. But the young Master has certain….peculiar figures in his life that serve to further complicate his situation. Such as the one approaching."

They were nearing the office then while, from it, Wick appeared, toying with the cuffs of his shirt with a disgruntled look on his face. When he glanced up and saw Locke, however, this look only seemed to form into legitimate disdain as he headed towards the approaching pair.

"Hux," he barked as the man in question came to a stop. "I need to speak to you." Then he glanced to the assistant. "Privately."

"And I," she agreed with a bow of her head before moving to retrieve the tray once more and carry on without the lowly guard, "must get this to my master. Gentlemen."

Though Locke's eyes followed after her, Wick's merely stayed on the younger man, taking in a deep breath before letting it out roughly through is nose.

"Come on," he ordered gruffly. "We're going for a walk."

Locke really didn't want to, but had long learned to swallow his own consequences. Wick, for the nearly two months Locke had been on the manor, had always seemed distant and void, almost. Save the previous day when he'd gotten all flustered over his daughter, Locke mostly saw him with a deep frown and deeper crease in his forehead that only became more burrowed the worse Monty's antics for the day became. He was quite clearly the behind the scenes ringleader of the perverse circus and yet, at the same time, the most distanced to the illicit. He seemed disappointed, at times, bothered by the actions, but certainly for the wrong reasons.

Outside, the morning was hot and Locke felt uneasy, for some reason. Like a horse being out of the barn just to take one to the temple back behind it, put out of his own misery. Wick was a seething, strong silent type and, after having a master back in Fairy Tail who'd exhibited those same habits at times, Locke knew very well that he could be in immense shit. The longer the silence, the louder and more pronounced it became.

Removed from everything, the land could have been rather beautiful to take in. He'd always heard that about Bosco, anyways, when it was spoken on for more than it's darker activities. It was hailed as being very breathtaking in the winter and Locke imagined, sometimes, what all the fields would look like, covered in unbroken white snow. He'd grown up almost entirely in the city and it always felt nice, when he was traveling, to see how the seasons affected other parts of his own country.

But then, of course, nothing could ever be fully removed from its context. There was a heaviness that surrounded the entire property, if not continent, and though Locke could separate himself at times, it always felt so jarring when he was quickly forced back into reality. Seeing one of the other guards, catch a glimpse of The Factory, the bunkhouse, or even just to hear a conversation of someone else… It was a foreboding essence that wallowed in every sector of the area and to wade through it, in hopes of escaping it, was a fool's journey.

Wick led him passed The Factory, where Locke imagined Haven was very busy (or perhaps not; he wasn't quite sure what the other women were going to do with her or, even, when he'd get a chance to see her again) and it made the younger man sigh, rather noticeably. The other man didn't even glance at him though, continuing on, instead, passed the bunk house even, and out to the pond behind it. Standing before it with his arms crossed over his chest, Wick seemed to examine the sunrise's reflection on the water before speaking.

"Monty," he began simply, "seems to enjoy you more than he has any other, in recent times, and that is the sole reason you are here currently. I would have had you off this property last night, were it any other case."

Locke waited, for more, but when none seemed to be coming, he said, "I guess I just don't understand what the big deal is. Sir. We all, uh… The women in the penthouse… What difference does it make? If I was spending time with one of the ones that work downstairs?"

"What difference does it make?" Wick grit his teeth, the crease in his forehead deeper than it should be, so early in the morning. Snorting, he said, "It's about respect."

It felt weird, wrong, to hear his own phrasing played back at him in the light of a new day and Locke had to look off, frowning some, as he realized just how wrong it would have sounded to Monty when the words came from his own mouth.

"I really don't think," Locke whispered back, softly, "the women feel, uh, respected either way-"

"Not them, you lout." Wick shook his head. "I gave you a goddamn order. One that you were meant to adhere to. The reason for the rules, why they matter, has no bearing on what you do or don't do."

Making a face, Locke looked down at his feet before agreeing. "Right. I...I shouldn't have done that. Sir."

"You disrespected me. As a fucking rook, no less. It's embarrassing. For you." Wick finally glanced at him then, taking a bit of stock of him before asking, "What is it? That you have back where you're from? In Fiore? Tribes?"

"Guilds?" Locke questioned to which the man merely shrugged.

"What would happen to you? Huh? If you fucked up, disrespected, your guild like you have here?"

"W-Well...I guess I'd have to apologize," Locke told him truthfully. "Sincerely. And then maybe do some extra work for Master, probably."

"That's fucking it?"

"I mean-"

"That's why your kingdom's gone to goddamn shit. Always has been." Wick turned then, to face the other man. "We don't raise our boys that way here. We make them men. Should have some of the other guys beat the shit out of you. Teach you something."

Locke didn't take a step back, rather raising his eyes to meet the man's as effortlessly his right arm was overtaken by his magic, metal plating encasing the appendage.

"I think I already know," the younger man retorted, "all that I plan on learning."

But Wick was the one who broke his gaze, to look over the pond again as he growled, "We were brothers. The men over me. When I was your age. Goddamn brothers. What the fuck happened to this place?"

This hung between them for a long few moment as Locke internally debated his next thoughts. But he didn't imagine himself ever presented with such an opportunity again, no matter how much longer his time on the manor might be, and only swallowed some before opening his mouth.

"Monty told me," he said, "that you had a kid with a woman. From The Factory."

This felt like some sort of trump card, or at least would elicit some sort of emotion from the other man, but Wick only continued to glare off for a moment before shrugging.

"Shit was different."

But Locke was about tired of that response to any and every action that took place on the manor.

"How?" he pressed and he expected a swift knock to the head or some more curses from the man, but Wick seemed taken aback, maybe, by his knowing the revelation (it was difficult to tell given how stoic the man was) and answered him honestly.

"She wasn't product," he said rather bluntly, in a way that Lock wasn't ready for. "She was property."

"I..." Now Locke did take a step back, physically and mentally. It was hard to shock him, now so deep in the shit, but though he'd heard the women refereed to in rather degrading matters, Wick really had gotten it out as simply as possible. There was no lust justification or inebriated slurring. Just a flat explanation. Still, Locke questioned, "What's the difference?"

"That women you're messing around with? She doesn't belong to Monty. She belonged to Alwood. Or, even without their arrangement, whoever he chooses to sell her to. And you don't make enough to reimburse him for what he'll make off her," Wick assured him. "But I… The women were different, fuck, even just a decade ago. They were used to fulfill a service. Not meant to be sold off. Once Master had them, they were his. They weren't fucking going anywhere. I was...wrong, but not nearly to the… Fuck the women in the goddamn penthouse and leave the others alone. Alright? And I don't want to have to have anymore fucking conversations with you."

Wick started away then and Locke knew better than to add any more questions to his back. Still, in a sneer over it, Wick added, "Put damn your damn armor away. And I want you to get Monty in line today. His uncle leaves soon and I don't want anymore messes. Do you understand?"

He did, but also was very aware that this was easier said than done.

Looking over the pond himself, even for just a moment, Locke watched the sun's rays glint and sparkle indulgently, before turning to rush back up to the manor and take his lumps from the other, less sympathetic guys.

Still, his foreboding thoughts and feelings weren't far off. Though he'd effectively spared Haven from the current chopping block, she was still now personally stuck on the same deadline. There was no way that she was going to let some other woman suffer in her place, but the only real way she could find around it currently was the outright revolt that she'd all but assured the others that she could accomplish.

She'd come to realize, however, that this was not going to easily be the case.

"What do they do to them? Up there?" Haven asked Bea that day at lunch. She'd seen Lize, that morning, shivering under a blanket, not sobbing, but ghastly and vacant. The other woman who'd come down before her cared for her that morning, while the others left for work, and Haven wondered if she could hang back too. If she should. She'd done shit all in convincing the older women to join forces with her and perhaps it would be more beneficial for her to try her hand at rallying just the two of them. What could they do to her, anyways? She felt like now that Locke had managed to spare her, she would no doubt find her way up to the penthouse as well and that provided her with some protection, maybe.

But…

She also didn't want to aggravate any of the older women any more than she already had. She needed them still to follow her should the time come.

"Don't rightly know," Bea remarked as she scratched, awkwardly, maybe, as she seemed less at ease than normal, "but I could hanker a guess-"

"I meant for them to withdrawal so badly," Haven retorted with a frown. "After only a few hours. They have to be plying them with something."

"Sedatives and liquor." Bea's finger slipped beneath the path, scratching at the dry flesh beneath it. "What I've heard anyways."

Haven frowned some, down at her lunch, before saying, "I can't just let them go to Alwood's. When it was supposed to be me."

Again, there was an awkwardness where Bea wouldn't rightly glance at her and it didn't feel like she was sitting beside the same woman. She still did find her words though, eventually, merely questioning Haven, "Why not? You found a way to escape a worse fate."

"We haven't escaped anything," Haven grumbled around a slice of bread. "We're still stuck here. What now? I'm going to work in this dumb factory forever?"

"What would you rather? Be them? Or you?"

"Neither." The younger woman glanced down at her marking then, there, on her arm. "Those aren't the only two options. You know? I've told you before, we could… If it came down to it, and I did manage to start something, would you support me?"

"How?" Bea even laughed, but it was humorless. "What could we possibly do to them? With Alwood here on top of that? Those women are going with him. I don't know what you did with that guard, but lucky you, you're not. Be thankful for that. Don't think too much about it. Self-preservation is more important than anything else. You can't help anyone if you're dead."

"You're not dead," Haven retorted. "And what help are you to anyone?"

This time, there was no laugh. Just a cold stare.

"Careful," Bea warned the younger woman softly. "I might not be what I used to, but-"

"I'm not trying to fight with you," she kept up though. "I'm just saying that, eventually, you will die here. If someone doesn't do something. And I'm trying-"

"I would shut up." And Bea shifted away from her then, a slight shake of her head as she glanced over at where the trio of women sat. "Before you have to have another meeting with the three of them."

And as Haven's eyes drifted over, she found Wanda's awaiting them. But she didn't look around. Just glared right back.

Because it was fucking pointless. Trying to play this place the same as Ewing's manor. She wasn't going to elicit anything with the women downstairs because they were too complacent. Had had too much of a chance to accept their fate. There was an obvious threat, at Ewing's manor, but it didn't exist for the older women here. All of their fire had been put out long before Haven ever arrived.

Not being able to even stomach the food anymore, she pushed it over to the woman, bridging the distance as she said simply, "I'm not ready to give up. I can't. So… You don't have to help me. And you can pretend like you had no idea, about anything, if it all goes to shit, but just be ready, alright? I'm not someone who fails at shit."

Bea took a rather deep breath then before, slowly, dragging Haven's portions over to herself. Letting out the breath, she said simply, "You ended up here. Had to have failed something."

Stomach scaring itching, Haven found she was rather thankful for it, anyways, when the trio finally stood to signify the end of break.

That evening, when they all went to bathe in the pond, most seemed a bit surprised to see Lize up and seemingly so well, but she only stripped down along with them, Issa beside her, and the duo immediately set over to where Haven stood alone in the lukewarm water.

"You said," Lize addressed her with a troubled voice, "that you were going to stop me from going. From us going. Did you mean it?"

Standing up straight, Haven nodded at them both as she said, "Yeah. I did."

"Then...what?" Issa, for the first time, spoke to the typical blonde and Haven eyed her as well as the newcomer. "What is your plan?"

"W-Well, see that's the thing…" Haven shrugged some, maybe a bit bashful from her state of undress, perhaps theirs, but most certainly her admission. "I kind of...like to just wing it?"

Lize stared at her there, for a long few moments, emotionless other than a soft, steady nod as she considered her next words in a way Haven could be envision of.

"So you're both morons," she said simply. "That's great. The two of you came in together, didn't you? You and Shae? Something new in the slave markings? Does it sear right into your brains? Or-"

"Shae knows nothing about winging anything," Haven huffed with a frown. "She's not even a fucking mage. If she thinks that her escape plan is anything close to the one I'm going to cook up, soon, then-"

"Who," Issa complained, "are you two talking about?"

But Lize paused then, to glance Haven over again before asking, "Are you the mage? That can get around the barrier?"

And Haven couldn't help it. She groaned, rather loudly, perhaps too much so, as she griped, "She fucking told you? Did she tell anyone else? She knew how much I liked it, when I got to show it off at Ewing's place-"

"Ewing?" Issa frowned. "You mean...where all those slaves escaped from?"

"So everyone's heard about it?" Haven couldn't help it. Her annoyance at Shae was washing back into her typical undeserved pride. "I mean, I did single handedly lead a rebellion, but-"

"You what?" Lize asked.

"I just heard that some slaves escaped," Issa was quick to add. "From...Monty. Before. Alwood contacted him and was worried about it and he...confided in me, or whatever, but-"

"It was a healthy number," Haven defended. "And only a few casualties. And it wasn't all on me, single handedly, actually, so-"

"She meant it then?" Lize questioned. "That she came here on purpose?"

"Yeah." And Haven sobered, finally, letting out a held breath of her own as she said, "She did. We all did."

"All?" Lize pressed, but Haven only shook her head.

"Just...have faith in me. And her." Smiling some, the typical blonde tossed up an arm, tapping where her guild marking usually resided as she insisted, "No matter what, you're not going to Alwood's. I won't let you."

While this allowed Lize an at least somewhat less fitful night's sleep, Shae, on her ends, sat awake, watching the other women retired one by one, with Monty stealing off two when he came in, until she was the last with any sort of consciousness.

This was intended, however, as she was still sitting to attention when the door opened softly and, quiet as a mouse, Wick's daughter entered with her cleaning gear. She didn't seem rightly shocked to see Shae there, but apprehensive as always. Even more so when Shae rose, the second she was beyond the threshold.

"I know, I know," the older woman insisted with an outstretched hand, "we're not supposed to talk. I understand that. But...can you do me a favor?"

The teen frowned some, down at the folded envelope that Shae presented her, before shaking her head heavily.

"If Father caught me sending a letter somewhere," she whispered softly, "then it would only get you in trouble. And I couldn't go into town, to send it either, if that's what you think, because-"

"It's for someone in the mansion," Shae insisted. "Won't even have to deviate, really, from your routine. Just slip it under their door for me. Will you?"

"I don't-"

"No one will ever know," Shae insisted. "And it'll be a way to pay me back, right? After your father shoved me, the other day? We'll be all even. For real."

She hesitated, the girl did, but did reach out finally, with shaking hands, to accept the envelope. Softly, she asked, "Who's room?"

"A guard. Hux. Will you be able to figure that out? Or-"

"I know their room assignments," the teen assured her. "B-But...is this...like...a love letter?"

Shae took a step back, confused for a second by the accusation, before slowly nodding, "I mean...sure. Yes. I… Sort of?"

This seemed to suffice for the teen as she even smiled, for the first time, cheeks a bit rosy as she assured the woman, "I understand."

No possible way for her to, Shae wanted off the subject as she questioned, "Can I ask you something? It's just- Do you live here? On the property? You said you can't go into town and-"

"My father has his own section of the manor," the teen offered meekly. "Down in the basement area. I stays there with him. Away from the guards. All of the...paid staff does. Live down there."

And this time, her blush was rooted far more in embarrassment, but Shae merely nodded.

"Then you're paid?" she kept up. "To be here?"

"Not exactly..."

"Then what?"

"I… My father has an arrangement. Or he did. With the former Master. And now the current, I guess." She sighed some, the girl did, as she said, "My father had an...indiscretion and I… You're not from here, but… In Bosco, when you're born to a, uh, a marked, you… So he had to make an arrangment for me to-"

"It's okay. Really." And Shae reached out then, but this time the girl didn't shy away from the touch. Gently, the woman tapped the teen on the shoulder, speaking sincerely as she insisted, "You've really helped me. And I don't even know your name."

"Nessa," the girl offered with a bit of a grin and Shae returned it, nodding heartily as she insisted.

"Thank you, Nessa." Turning, Shae remarked, "You can get to work now. I won't bother you again."

As she head back into the bedrooms though, Shae did so with intention for once. Noting the dark haired woman from before on one of the beds, she went to gently shake her shoulder, leaning down close to her ear as she whispered, "Delivered."

Peeking a lazy eye open, the other woman smiled, just a bit, as she nodded.

"Good," she whispered as Shae went to fall into the other bed. "Then soon."

"Yeah," Shae agreed. "Soon."

A few hours would pass though, before the transition was fully delivered. Nessa would slip it under Locke's door near sundown, when the hall was completely empty and only he heard the soft knock against his door as she quickly rushed away, to get back downstairs before her father noted any irregularity in her usual schedule. He'd need to be up soon and it had always been her job to personally fix his breakfast.

Her knock though did startle the slowly rousing Locke up. After not getting a wink the night before, his heavy and contorted heart drifted off unceremoniously that night and he was wracked with concern, when he was truly woken just before the crack of dawn.

Blinking around his dark, tiny room, it took him a good few minutes of blinking and remembering to even spot the letter. It stuck out, white and bright, against his door wooden flooring, even in just the light of the moon.

"Shit," he whispered as he slipped out of bed to grab it.

He thought it was from the assistant. It made sense to him. She seemed rather into him. Which was a problem. A massive one. But was quite clearly overshadowed by the more pressing matters that were currently circulating in his brain.

But when he tried to open it, he was met with a magical barrier. A seal. Someone had protected the letter.

Shae, not versed in magic, had no idea such a thing was even possible. But as one of the women, two nights ago, had suggested as they all plotted together, applying such a seal to the letter, another only rolled her eyes heavily at the suggestion.

"No one can access their magic," one retorted dryly and they all felt rather low until the dark haired woman, the other from Joya, spoke up once more.

"Monty doesn't have magic," she informed the others. "I've never felt it on him. But I have seen him finish up letters before. We all have, around the apartment. He has some sort of device, to seal them magically. If we can find it-"

"He passed out." The woman from Seven stood, nodding her head a bit as she insisted, "I'll get it."

There seemed to be a real sense of comradery going, maybe, and Shae really felt, for the first time in the manor, as if this all had a shot of working. Of happening.

"Your person on the outside," Taree asked her softly at one point, "you're sure that they can get it all done?"

"Yep," Shae agreed with a nod. "Absolutely."

"Do you have a symbol?" another woman insisted as they all crowded round where Shae, on the end of one of the beds, wrote out a set of directives for Locke to follow. "That both of you would know? For them to easily open the envelope?"

They didn't. She'd have never thought of them needing such a thing. And Locke, as he stood in his bedroom then, in a cold sweat as he was now faced with figuring one out, had no clue what she'd pick either.

There was only one symbol, really, that he knew, that anyone would ever associate with him, and when he tried it, he was a bit surprised to find it worked.

Shae had seen it quite a few times, over the spring and early summer months they spent back at base camp. It peeked out beneath the arm of most his shirts and was especially eye catching when they all played around in the river during the warmer days. His black guild marking had adorned the flesh of his left arm, just as his father's, never moving since the day his original master's wife bestowed it upon him. He knew it by heart and his own skipped a beat, as his breath held, when after tracing it, a magic circle appeared, breaking the seal.

His eyes traced the paper a few times, something of relief, originally, flooding him as he realized the letter had definitely come from Shae, though it was soon washed away with confirmation that, finally, a call to action had been placed.

And not only was he directly involved in it, in some ways, he'd directly brought it about.

The first step in it though had little to do with the women up in the penthouse and, instead, the ones outside.

Haven saw Locke, they all saw him, honestly, that morning as they left the bunkhouse, walking determinedly across the lawn, but she thought best not to stare at him. He kept coming though. And coming. Right for her.

Haven wanted shock him, really badly, when he grabbed her arm tightly, no doubt bruising her flesh as he jerked her out away from the other women. He had everyone's gaze now, but Locke wore a look Haven wasn't exactly accustomed to from the man, dark and authoritative.

Gyu, the one of the trio closest, immediately cleared her throat and called out to him.

"Where are you taking-" she began, but he cut her off.

"Learn your place, slave, before I remind you," he retorted, ignoring Haven's gaze as she stared up at him with wide eyes. Voice dark, he remarked, "Don't ever fucking question me. Master's orders. If you wanna take it up with him, be my fucking guest."

Some of the women were walking faster then, gaze down and trying to escape the man's brewing rampage, but Gyu only took a deep, annoyed breath, before nodding and continuing on, with the others, towards The Factory.

"Break my fucking arm, I guess, Hux," Haven grumbled when he'd pulled her further out into the yard, out of earshot of most everyone.

"Shut up." His jaw was tight and his voice hardly above a whisper. "Shae's got a plan. And-"

"I," Haven complained in a whisper of her own as she resisted the urge to jerk away from him, "have a plan." When Locke only looked down at her though, expecting more, she defended, "Well, I mean, I'll have one by the time I need one, but-"

"Be fucking serious."

Now she really wanted to shock him.

"Look." Releasing his grip, Locke discreetly slipped a sheet of paper into her hands. "Read this over. I'm not sure where you fit in, but they got this all timed out. We're going to take them by fucking surprise. You're going to have to keep these women out of it until you see the signal. Okay?"

She couldn't exactly disagree, but without reading over anything, also couldn't give a very enthusiastic answer. Merely nodded some before remarking, "Don't, like, get your dumbass killed or something."

Grimacing some, Locke seemed to lose the composure he was attempting and his voice was softer as he insisted, "It'll be okay. This will work."

"Yeah," Haven agreed as he took a step back from her. "It always does."

They were both stuck in a bit of the same place though, even as he moved back from her and Haven, knowing what was awaiting her inside, rushed into the building. She would need to read over and figure out what to do on her portion of things while Locke, though having known the plan, still had quite a few blanks to fill in.

The first thing that Shae told him was that they were going to use the vials he'd given her to knock a guard unconscious. A specific one. Garth. He was a big guy, a bit older than Locke, and was known in particular for being a bit rough. With the women upstairs, when he passed The Factory women, fuck, even the paid help he was a bit of an ass too.

It didn't surprise Locke that they wanted him to be the first hit.

They would need a reason though, for him specifically to go up to the room. Alone, Shae had specified, underlining that part. Which would be a difficult enough task and yet, somehow, the easiest of the set.

Locke also needed to get all of the guards, as well as Alwood and his own, out of the house. That was crucial for the women easily getting downstairs, to the kitchen, and forcing the paid staff out in order to arm themselves. While Locke was aware that kitchen knives, no matter how large or sharp, would be nothing against magic, he imagined that with his help (as well as the whipping up of The Factory that Haven would do), they could more than subdue the men long enough for them to stage a scene, perhaps? Was that the plan? Make them think they'd run off into the woods, only to escape into the tunnels?

He wasn't certain. Shae hadn't specified. But he could see accomplishing this and decided on that being the endgame he had to work towards.

First though, he'd need to create a diversion. Something big enough to get all of the guards out into the yard. The front yard. Away from The Factory. And, for that, Locke knew the exact person to go to.

When he suggested to Monty that, to get back at Wick for being an ass (and the others too, Locke had offered with a bit of unease, but the other guy ate it right up), they could embarrass him. Big time. In front of Alwood, even.

"But," Locke insisted, "he'd have to really think it was an emergency. Something that kicked him into overdrive. Everyone."

"Yeah, I'm in." Monty even snickered. "They're all so fucking uptight. And for what? Nothing ever fucking happens here."

None of them really slept that night. Not Locke, not Haven, and certainly not Shae. Not the other women in the penthouse either.

When there was a sharp knock at the penthouse door that morning, Monty, who typically would grumble for having to get out of bed so early, was quick to pop right up, tumble into his typical red attire, and rushed to open it.

Shae, from the couch, couldn't quite see Locke, but she could hear his greeting of the Master and Monty laughed loudly at whatever the other guy said. Things seemed, tentatively at least, falling right into place.

It was a tense wait though, for all of the women, and the morning seemed to drag on for far too long. Still, it was around nine that the lock in the door slid and they all tensed, the women did, from where they were either pacing about in anticipation or cowering off, peaking around doorways.

It was Garth, just as Shae had requested, whistling and unconcerned as he entered the penthouse. Why should he be? Hux and Monty had approached him not long ago, making mention of needing him to fetch a few things for them from the penthouse.

"I left my keys up there," Locke told him. "When I went to get Monty this morning."

Which he definitely hadn't, given he hadn't entered, but Monty was more than a bit inebriated for the early hour. It had also been in Shae's note. She wanted him wasted and out of the way so Locke, while they worked on their prank earlier, had gotten him to take a shot with him, of which the elixir mage had secretly spiked. He feared that Monty would immediately note the ill-affects, but the man only laughed it off when he shook his head after downing the liquor, there in his office.

Having Locke around had felt good, the entire time, really, but even more so that morning, as they gently scraped red phosphorous from the tips matches and transferred bits into glass bottles they'd snagged from the kitchen. It felt boyish and good, reckless and refreshing, to not just get fucking wasted, no, but actually participate in some goddamn serious mischief again. The kind Monty would have found himself in a decade earlier, when he was bugging his father and Wick alike. Stink bombs were his usual motive of operation back in those days, but Locke insisted that they needed (not too vicious) explosions.

"Like small little pops," Locke suggested. "To get the attention of everyone. Then they all come running, even Alwood, maybe, and he sees Wick looking a fool while you sit up on your balcony, right? Seeming victorious?"

It actually sounded like a really shit, immature thing to do, even as Locke thought it up, but he knew this would be what sold Monty on the idea the most. The man was locked in a state of arrested development that Locke had never quite seen. Many of the men (and women) up at the guildhall found themselves vulnerable to the condition and exhibited traits of it frequently, but it was usually tied to whatever trauma had brought them to the hall in the first place. For Monty, he seemed to just flat out be an overwhelming loser with no aspirations or intentions beyond squandering his wealth and position.

Locke was sure that Astra had no idea what was really going on in Harval manor before she sent them there, but fuck, she couldn't have found an easier mark.

They went outside, to bury the bottles a bit in the dirt, just visable, they were certain, from his balcony. Then,it was easy to convince Monty they should seek out Garth on their way back inside, as well as getting the man to order the other guard to go up to the penthouse, alone, to fetch Locke's keys and some other things Monty wanted brought down. Papers he was meant to present Alwood with.

"Forgot 'em," the Master snickered a bit. "I was so busy with-"

Locke elbowed Monty then, with a look, and Garth glanced between them, but again, it was slowly becoming commonplace. Hux was a guard, fine, but it seemed distant in comparison to his friendship with Monty. He was blowing off his shift, even, Garth was pretty sure, that day, which was shit, but as the man climbed up to the penthouse, he kinda intended to do the same.

"Oh, no, Wick," he muttered under his breath in pretend surprise. "I know I was supposed to be making rounds, but Master had me go up to his penthouse to dig around for some paperwork."

Which was true enough. It just, uh, wasn't all he'd hoped to dig around in.

He made this crack, in his head, just as he opened the door, causing him to almost snicker as he walked in. Garth covered this though, with a whistle as he found most of the women up, rather early, all being very deliberate to not stare at him as he entered.

He could tell. That they were avoiding his gaze. Thinking, no doubt, that this would save him from his wraith. And it might, some of them, but at least one of them would definitely be following him back into one of the bedrooms; he'd make sure of it.

But as he approached where most of them were sitting, now, spread between the two couches, one of the women got to her feet. Rose. He knew her. Remembered her name. Mainly because of the rather on the nose tattoo she had on her left thigh of her namesake, in all it's shitty, overdone glory. She was the dark haired woman that had been so keen to believe and assist Shae, only a few days ago.

She was also the woman that Shae had given one of the vials to.

"What the fuck?" Garth complained as, once he was close enough, Rose popped the cork on the tiny vial, slinging the concoction inside into the face of the man before her. "What the hell did you just...did...you..."

Everything felt still. A moment passing where all the women, even timid Anna, who was hiding in the kitchen area, took a few passing glances around at one another, knowing that once it passed, once the moment came to an end, there was no going back from it.

"Is he...down? For good?" Shae got to her own feet, going to gently kick at the man with a frown before releasing a slow breath. Then, quickly, she added, "I'll get his gun."

It was what Locke hadn't quite understood, maybe didn't think to realize, but was a necessary key to what was meant to take place. The women were bound from any magic they might possess and, never knowing a single day of life in such a realm, Locke couldn't imagine seeking outside power.

To truly force anyone's hand though, Shae was certain as she pulled the sleek pistol that Garth kept holstered at his waist. He liked to taunt the women with it, at times, and as one of the few guys with no magical abilities, seemed to be the only one that carried.

"Have you ever...fired one? Before?" Rose questioned and, when Shae shook her head, she broadened her question. "Have any of you?"

"I have." Taree, tentatively, came forward to take the weapon when Shae offered it to her. "But...we won't really have to...will we?"

"It's a threat tactic," Shae assured her. "Until it isn't. But we should be able to make it to one of my two allies, the mages, and they'll help us with the next half of things. We just have to wait for the-"

And they could hear it. They imagined the entire house could. And as one of the women ran to glance out a bedroom window, the others waited on bated breath.

"They exploded something," the woman at the window reported. "And- And some of the guards are coming! To investigate. I see four, no, five, no- It looks like Wick is even coming to-"

"We have to go." And Shae grabbed the arm of the two women nearest to her, dragging them with her in hopes of keeping up the intention with the other amassed women as well. "Now. Down to the kitchen. And if we run into a stray guard, or Monty, we take them hostage. Alright?"

They looked like a hoard, as they exited the penthouse, of scantily dressed, underfed women and Shae knew that they had to be on their toes because it wouldn't take much for their plan to fall apart. Still, they did have to be some what cautious. After being sure to lock the door (and Garth) behind them, it was slowly that they all ventured, for the first time since their imprisonment, down the staircase to the second floor. If they were all too loud, rushing down, it would surely draw just as much suspicion.

But it was midday and, save the off chance of a stray guard on break, they had little chance of running into one on the second floor. Still, they held their breath and counted their blessings, maybe, as they made it to the staircase and started the final descent.

Taree leaded the way, brandishing the way, as they bum-rushed the kitchen. The women in it, working hard at lunch preparations for the guards, guests, and The Factory. There was already some tension, when all the guards in the manor fled out the front door with Wick yelling something about a fire, as well as those pops they heard, but whatever was going on seemed to be winding down.

"Everyone," Taree yelled as they all stepped foot into the kitchen, holding the pistol with both hands, outstretched before her, finger across the trigger, "go out the backdoor. Now. Run."

"W-What's going on?" one of the kitchen staff asked and they were as foreign to the penthouse women as anyone. They knew, maybe, or at least the concept of them, having caught glimpses here or there, but as utensils and cutlery were dropped, it was only with a vague understanding of just who was making the demand. "Are you-"

"Now!" Shae took over, a dark look in her eye as she strode further into the kitchen. "Did you not hear her? Through the backdoor and run from the property. Because if we see you again..."

She didn't finish her warning. She didn't have to. Some were already backing away and, finally, one of them loudly instructed the others that they'd best do as they were told, leading to the kitchen emptying out until only the penthouse women remained.

Taree laughed, kind of, but it sounded distant as she lowered the weapon, no doubt feeling powerful in that moment. But she jumped, all the same when Rose loud began to bark orders from behind her.

"Get the biggest fucking carving knives you can find," the dark haired woman insisted to the others as they began to throw open drawers or pull them from a nearby block. "And from here on out… No mercy."

"No mercy," was the echoed declaration by a few, but as Shae grabbed a knife, a pit formed in her stomach as she considered someone she absolutely hoped they'd take it on.

She'd felt nervous, revealing that her person on the inside was the guard that they'd very much all seen paling around with Monty, and feared that it might lead to disbelief in the mission. So she'd kept it from them. Mentioned Haven and that was the most blatant she was willing to get for the time being.

But she also was reverent that the man would have told her, if it absolutely had to be that way, then allow it to be. He could take care of himself. Plus, from his healing magic, she was wholly uncertain if the man could even suffer a mortal wound. He'd told her, before, of his healing of broken bones and healing of gruesome wounds. The man was fine.

Still, he'd become something of an easy friend during the past few months and she'd like to find him before the others.

"What's the move?" Rose questioned her and Shae hesitated for a moment before assuring them of their most obvious target.

"Monty," she told them with a sharp nod.

"I didn't see him outside," the woman who'd looked through the window reminded. "At all. I don't know where-"

"If he set off those dumb bombs," Rose remarked them with a roll of her eyes, "then he's on the fucking balcony. To see it. He likes to set fireworks off from there too, sometimes."

"He has mentioned it," another woman muttered. "So-"

"Three of us will go get him," Shae decided then. "And the rest of you hide, okay? They'll see us take him hostage and rush in and you ambush them."

Rose wanted to keep the gun downstairs, but Shae was rather insistent that they take it with them, as it would be easier to control Monty with. And by the time the men figured out what was going on, they'd be downstairs with him, and the gun.

Taree went with Shae, obviously, but it surprised her when Anna rushed to follow, a knife in one hand, but both trembling heavily. Still, Shae nodded at her and the three made the trek up the stairs together once more. Or at least they intended to. As the others prepped themselves for the ambush and the other two bounded up the stairs, something else struck out to Shae.

Rather, someone.

"Shit," she whispered as, off to the corner near the stairs, she could see an alcove from which the timid face of the teenage girl peeked out. "Nessa."

"What's going on?" the teen asked softly, no doubt having been arose by the commotion. Shae imagined she slept during the day, given she was about through the evening and early morning hours. "How are you out? Is everything-"

"Listen to me." And as the other two rushed off ahead, Shae instead headed over to the teen. "Is there anyone downstairs with you? In the basement?"

"N-No. But-"

"Go back there."

"I-"

"Now." But when Shae reached for her this time, the teen had actually room to run away and she had to chase after her. "Just listen to-"

"My father-"

"Your father is fine," Shae growled as, catching her down the hall, she pulled the girl back to her before, having little time to think of anything, she took the only vial she had on her and tossed it the liquid into the young teen's face. "And you will be too."

As Nessa collapsed into a heap, Shae only groaned some more and began to drag her to the closest door she found find. A broom closet, overfilled with supplies, but with enough room to stuff the girl inside. She'd just have to remember to fetch her from it later on.

This delay allowed Taree and Anna to rush up the stairs themselves, however, and seek out Monty (and Locke) alone. They were actually exactly where Rose had surmised. On a balcony that over looked the front of the property.

Locke had never been out on it, less than half an hour earlier when he and Monty, after planting their little bottle bombs, climbed to over look them. Through his magic Locke summoned metal throwing stars, lining them up visually to be certain he'd nick the barely visible bottles they'd buried. Monty was struggling though, from the elixir Locke had given him, and leaned against the railing, looking over it with a droopy look.

"Reminds me of my father," he muttered softly as he looked over the yard with a hazy look. "Being up here."

Still staring down the his steel throwing stars, Locke remarked, "This reminds me of mine."

"Did you like him?" Monty asked and Locke only shrugged some, gearing up for his first throw.

"Sometimes. Not all the time." The loud bang of the first mini-bomb going off just about drown out the end of Locke's reply as he added, "But I always loved him."

Locke had five targets to hit and got each one on the first go. This was engaging enough for his inebriated partner in crime, but the blasts were even more so. They were loud as fuck and spawned little fires around where they'd exploded, which the first two guards that arrived immediately had to take to stomping out with their boots.

"What's going on?" came the loud complaint of Crigin as he and Wick, together, were rushing onto the scene and Monty was beside himself from above, watching silently only for a few minutes before he couldn't help his loud laughter.

It just so happened that Wick, Crigin, and Alwood had planned to head into town, for one last drink before the man took off (where, Monty had been certain when he relayed this to Locke, they'd no doubt trash his name and degrade him), meaning that Alwood tentatively came over to investigate as well, his two guards with him.

And Locke could see her, his assistant, not far off.

But at the sounds of Monty's ravenous laughter, eyes were directed upwards, Wick's forehead crease at it's maximum fold.

"Master!" Wick yelled up at him as Locke took a step backwards, giving a slight wave of a hand to the guys below them. "What's the meaning of this? Did you do this?"

But as Monty lifted his head, his laughter was dying off in his throat, leaving dark eyes and an even darker tone.

"Fuck you, Wick," he yelled, loudly now, instead of just whispering it to Locke, in his arcade. He felt so fucking vindicated, just from the looks of shock and dismay that crossed the faces of those amassed. Even the one on Alwood's face. "Fuck all you. This is my castle. I'm the fucking king. You hear that? I'll do what I want. None of you can fucking stop me."

"Young Master," Alwood called as the guards exchanged uneasy looks from down below. "I think you might have had too much to drink, far too early. Perhaps you would like someone to walk you back to your room-"

"I'm not going anywhere." And Monty meant it as he glared down at them. "Fuck you too. Uncle. All of you."

"Hey, dude, you gotta calm down," Locke whispered then as he reached out to pat the other guy on the shoulder. "You really shouldn't-"

"It's true, Hux," Monty insisted. "They shit on me. I told you that. They-"

The balcony door opened.

And that wasn't shocking to the young Master at first, as he was sure someone was coming to try and contain him, but then he seemed to note who actually was standing there and took a step back in confusion.

Surely he hadn't had that much to drink, had he?

"L-Ladies?" he questioned in a bit of surprise and while Locke had intended to fake his own, it wasn't quite so fake when he noted the gun clutched in one of their hands, causing him to quickly toss up his own. "W-What are you-"

"Monty?" Wick called up again, now more questioning as they couldn't see, all the way from down there, who exactly the two men were talking to.

"You're going," Taree said loudly then, hands shaking as she lifted the pistol to point it at the man, "to come with us. Downstairs. Now! And- Hey!"

Anna had been standing beside the other woman, crowding the short doorway between the hallway and balcony, but shoved up suddenly, tears in her eyes as she made a play for the gun. It took Taree off guard and she fell off to the side. Locke instinctively dove to help the woman, breaking her fall, but missing out on stopping the next portion of things.

"Hey," Monty whispered lowly as he swallowed. "Look, just put that down and-"

She didn't say a word though. Only fired the weapon weapon straight into the man's chest. The sound felt deafening, so close, and Locke winced some from the feeling. Everything felt like it happened in parts. As he looked from the woman with the weapon to Monty, however, it all came rushing back together and he knew he would need to begin to heal the man, as soon as possible.

But he didn't have a chance.

She tossed the gun, Anna did, down to the ground as she threw her hands over her face, her typical sobs taking over once more and both Locke and Taree seemed to realize, at the same time, they absolute had to get that weapon.

Each dove for it, but unfortunately for Locke, Taree was the one who came up with it and he knew he could have attack her, strong-armed it away from her, but wasn't so sure that this was a good idea either.

"Hey," he tried as well as, while the woman rose, she pointed the weapon down at him now, while Monty moaned at their side. Locke stayed on his knees, hands upheld as he insisted, "I'm on your side. Okay? I-"

"Get up," Taree insisted. "And-"

"They're coming," Anna moaned into her hands behind the other woman. "They're going to kill us."

They were.

From down below, there had been some confusion as to what all was going on, but the gunshot was unmistakable and the second that Monty went down, and Wick was quick to begin barking orders as the men all rushed to get back inside the manor. Alwood's assistant was rushing as well, but it was to his side where, grabbing his arm, she harshly made an order of the man.

"Master, the carriage," she insisted, tugging a bit. "Now."

There was a slight hesitation from the man, but from his vantage point of the balcony, he knew the best place for him was far away from whatever brew had finally boiled over on Harval manor.

It was already prepared, a carriage was, in preparation for the trip in to two, but Alwood and his men headed straight to it. When the man at the reigns hesitated, clear concern over his master and home in general, Alwood only hissed harshly at him while one of his two bodyguards made a not too veiled threat.

This was all it seemed to take.

As one master fled, another lie bleeding to death on his balcony. Locke got to his feet and forced himself not to glance over at the man, not even when he called out for him. It wasn't as if he'd have much time to do anything for him. Only seconds later, Shae was shoving her way onto the balcony as well.

"What," she questioned tersely, "did you do?"

But Anna only sobbed and Taree kept her gun trained on Locke. It was to Shae that he looked however, red eyes wide.

"Fuck Monty," she decided suddenly and moved to grab Locke's arm and pull him forwards, nodding at Taree. "Give me the gun. The guard's the hostage now."

This was done quickly as Taree, seemingly, wanted nothing to do with the weapon and Anna, having done all she wished to with it, merely wept. Shae shoved Locke in front of her, pressed the muzzle of the gun into the small of his back and insisted, "March."

Locke was stiff as they went off, leaving Monty out there alone, still moaning, but not making any other intelligible sound. It wasn't exactly his place to plead for the man's life, and he wasn't even sure if it was worth it anyways, but his heart still pounded in his chest at the thought of leaving him behind.

But it wasn't like he had much time to worry about Monty, if any at all. Shae was rushing him down the stairs, knowing that what they would be facing. And she wasn't incorrect. What welcomed them on the first level was pure pandemonium.

The original plan, with the men rushing in with the intention of rescuing a hostage Monty, might have given them the results they desired, but after Anna fired the shot, they were all very aware of the need to get to the man as soon as possible.

So upon entering, they were met with the immediate ambush. Frail women brandishing carving knifes and the like, slashing wildly, and it did take them by surprise.

Momentarily.

While none other than Garth explicitly brandished weaponry, the good majority was at least versed in some form of magic. Not to mention, they far outweighed the women physically. Because of this, it wasn't the overwhelming victory that Shae and Rose had planned, but there was something to be said about the making the first strike. And it had been surprising, the four women jumping out at them. Certainly hadn't been without wounds.

But they were quickly thrown to the side, only one major injury at the moment from the guards side as Halbert had the misfortune of being sliced open, rather deeply, on his arm. He'd fallen back, into the now closed front doorway, gritting his teeth as he attempted to cover the wound with one hand. It was doing little though and he'd begun to curse then, both at the women and the situation in general.

As the four women lay now, thrown to the ground and two of them not even still holding their weapons, it was to stare up into eyes of unforgiving coldness. It wasn't as if any of them were unfamiliar with it. But the mood was different, the intention changed. As the men stood over them now, some with magic circles beneath their palms, they had something far worse in mind than what took place up in the penthouse.

"Hey!" At the top of the staircase, Shae called down to them as she was shoving Locke then, to go faster. Holding up the gun, from him being lower steps than her, it was easy enough to point it at his head and Locke really didn't feel like that was safe and maybe jumped the last step, just to put distance between him and the woman. "Stand the fuck down. All of you. I'll kill him. I'll-"

"Let," Wick spoke as he stood there, before the men and clinched fists, but no magic, "us get to the Master. Now! And I'll spare some of your lives."

"You're not the one in control here," Shae insisted. She could feel Taree there, behind her, but Anna hadn't come down the stairs. At all. Swallowing, Shae added, "I am."

Wick narrowed his eyes for a moment, considering maybe, but Crigin, who was at his side, found this unnecessary. Shae seemed almost timid, with the weapon, and honestly? Locke's life wasn't worth much to him either way. Raising a hand, a beam of some sort shot out from his palm, a bright white light, that was aimed right for Shae. On the stairs, she wouldn't have had much room to dodge it, least she allow the beam to strike Taree behind her, and that was with the caveat that she was even observant enough to note it as such a speed. Rather, her eyes were locked Wick's and she would have been taken completely by surprise were it not for one of Locke's own arms, shooting out with a metal plating covering it to absorb the blast.

"I fucking knew it," Crigin yelled as Locke's metal plating, destroyed momentarily, dissipated to reveal a rather massive bruise in it's place on his forearm. "The little shit's been compromised, Wick."

"Hux," Anderson called out to him in some surprise, but Locke only his opposite hand across his bruised arm, healing the abrasion and righting the broken blood vessels.

"She's right." Locke held his ground. "Stand down. Monty's dead. There's nothing left to fight over. Allow the women safe passage out of here and you'll be spared."

"Fuck you," Crigin remarked and this was echoed among some of the men, but Wick seemed concerned with something else as he stepped then, passed the four women on the ground, and instead approached the group on the stairs.

"You can leave," he said darkly as his eyes shifted from Shae's gun to the mage before him, "with the women you have here. Only. You can flee the property. They'll come after you. Rip you to shreds. Do far worse things than you ever experienced here. But if it's freedom you want, then take it. Get out of here. Now."

"No way," Locke retorted. "All of them. The Factory too. We're going to leave and-"

"What are you afraid of?" Shae spoke up as she was pointing the weapon at him then, still standing tall on the final few steps. "Your daughter?"

He shook his head a bit, Wick did, as he took another step towards them, and though Locke tensed, Shae only held the older man's gaze.

"I already took care of her," the woman assured the man. "First thing I-"

He lunged at her, Shae, but Locke jumped in the way, tackling the older guy as the pair sprawled together across the hardwood. This seemed to instigate the brawl once more as the guards started back in towards the women on the floor. Shae rushed forwards as well, around Locke and Wick, to brandish her gun and, when that did nothing, fire it off, the sound echoing in the foyer of the manor.

The bullet rippled through the air and struck Crigin, in the shoulder. Over the howls of pain, one of the guards yelled about falling back. When someone shoved around Halbert, still bleeding out on the floor, to get to the door though, they were welcomed with another complication.

It hadn't been easy for Haven, to be at the right place at the right time. Though, if it benefited her, she probably would have claimed the opposite. That her words were just so masterful, her reasoning just so foolproof, that of course she could get nearly all of the women from the factory to be there with her, in the yard.

But it hadn't been. Easy. Rather she'd dreaded the moment, right up until it happened. The sign.

First, they'd heard what sounded like blasts, short little ones, somewhere on the property, and most f the women jumped up in concern. T shushed them though while Gyu went to peek out the door, but Haven only quickly began to gather up all the articles of clothing she'd (somewhat) folded, forcing them into one of the boxes before trying to head out of the warehouse. She was meant to carry the taped up box out to where they'd pile them, around the building, so that the guards could take them out to the truck that would come by, every other day.

It wouldn't have been that big of a deal, honestly, Haven leaving. It shouldn't have been at all, really. But for some reason, Wanda rushed after her when she tried to leave, grabbing the typical blonde's shoulder to hold her up some. As Haven shook her off with a glare over said shoulder, it was only met with an equal one.

"What's your problem?" Haven questioned with a frown. "I'm just taking these boxes outside."

"Are you?" Wanda questioned with a raised eyebrow and she'd had a bad feeling about the younger woman, since she arrived. It was why she wanted her gone so badly and had planned to send her off with Alwood. She exuded a bad, off-putting energy. And now, with her being tangled up with a guard, the woman was even more on edge. And her conversations with the women slated to take her place at Alwood's hadn't gone without notice. As she stared the younger woman down then, in the doorway to The Factory, she felt as if her concerns weren't without merit. "What were those explosion?"

"How would I know?" the younger woman complained with a frown. "I-"

"Oh, shit." Bea, who'd come over with a box full of her own, wasn't commenting on the brewing fight between Wanda and Haven, but rather staring passed them. Dropping the box of clothing in her arms, she raised a hand to instead point out the door. "Look! The fuck's going on?"

Haven looked as well as Wanda took a step backwards in concern. They could see them, the women from the kitchen fleeing towards the back of the property and the woods that surrounded it. Taking in a breath, Haven only took a step back into the warehouse, allowing the door to shut and seal them off, momentarily, from the mayhem that was only just beginning.

"A revolt," Haven answered plainly, but loudly as she wished to be heard by all. As the others were beginning to rise again and Gyu and T were making their way over, the typical blonde only insisted, "Just like on Ewing's manor. And you want to escape like they were able to, then you need to listen to me. Now."

"What are you talking about?" Wanda questioned. "Revolt? You can't-"

"It's already started." And Haven held out a hand then, allowing her demonic magic to run through it, as a test, but reveling in the feeling all the same. Hopeful for a chance to live up to her uncle's Beast Arm legacy, she grinned a bit as she glanced around at the women. "Right now, Monty's being taken hostage and the guards are surrendering to our demands. All we have to do-"

"You can't," Wanda continued to insist, "do this. You know that you can't. People will get hurt. People-"

"People are already getting hurt," Haven retorted. "Or did you forget what happens to those women in the penthouse?"

"That's different," T spoke up with a heavy frown. "They're marked. We're marked. That's part of it." But then she eyed the purple magic that dripped from Haven's palm and frowned. "But you're not marked. Are you?"

It hardly sounded like a question, rather presented flatly and almost like an accusation. Frowning at it all the same, Haven held up her other arm, bearing the slave marking.

"I am," she retorted simply. "I'm marked. But I have a way out of it. For all of you. But you have to come with me, now, before the moment is lost. Every second we spend in there-"

"Fuck 'em," retorted one of the older ladies from where she sat, her chair turned away from her sewing machine now, but facing where Haven stood, just to bemoan her. "Those bitches wanna fight the Master? Let 'em. Aint' our battle. I ain't dying for them."

"No one's asking you to," Haven insisted. And it was her other hand now, with the sickening purple magic, that she held up. "I won't let any of you be harmed. I swear. I-"

"People died. At the Ewing manor." T crossed her arms, clearly uncomfortable. Nodding at Wanda, she said, "Wick told her about it. Last time Monty was here. Slaves and his men died, Ewing survived. That the kinda thing you're looking to do here?" Then she shook her head. "Ah. Guess you're not in the place then, are you? To be making promises?"

"Ewing's place was different." Haven glared then, at T, as she said, "And I fucking did all I could there. It was chaos. This isn't. This is a plan."

"With who?" another one of the ladies asked and she had all their attention now, Haven did, and this was the moment. She had to strike. She had to figure out some way to get to them. What was it before? That she'd been so confident in? That had to do with Marin?

"A guard," she admitted easily. "And one of the women in the penthouse. All you have to do is come with me. Now. To the manor. So we can help them contain the guards. That's all you have to do. That's it. And you get your freedom back."

There was a silence among them then, with some women looking to Haven, but most looking to Wanda, T, or Gyu. And as Wanda shook her head, T only sighed some before opening her mouth to no doubt discourage the action. The other women seemed to sense this and they even turned, some of them, back to their work, to wait out what in their mind was an inevitable victory on the side of the Master.

But Haven wasn't finished.

She never was. Not until she'd gotten what she wanted.

"I almost died. Once. A year ago. Two, almost, now, I guess." Her magic died down as her arms dropped and she was just glancing about then, feeling small among the older women, out numbered, like when she was a kid plotting her way to the top, back in the guildhall. "Far from home. Too far. And...my family didn't believe it. Couldn't believe it. That I was gone. Almost. And they were fucking miserable, for months, because they'd heard that I'd gotten beaten, out there somewhere, that I died alone and that I was coming back to them. I… Even though they know that I'm safe now, that I'm back now, I just… You shouldn't die here. Any of you. If you have homes to go back to, or even just somebody, you should always try to get back there. Before… You'll never forgive yourself if you don't."

If this felt moving, in any way, it was dashed by Wanda, quite clearly, saying, "If you want to leave, you're welcome. But the rest of us-"

"I'll go with you." Bea kicked the box in front of her out of the way and took another step towards Haven. "Kid. Got nothing else to lose."

And another one of the boxers, the one that ate lunch beside Haven and Bea, let out a loud groan before heading over as well.

"I'm not going to let you get your ass killed," the woman chided Bea simply as the woman in question patted at her eye patch with a bit of a grin, "with out me."

"Day when you were running the tunnels, wasn't it?" Bea remarked almost cheerfully. "That I got it plucked? If you were there-"

"If I were there," the woman agreed, "they'dda been pluckin' mine too."

Haven hadn't realized how tense she'd gotten until that exact moment, allowing herself a grin as well when, slowly, more and more women rose to their feet, and Wanda tried to remind them, tried to insist to them, that it was a waste, a death march, that they were being led from the frying pan and into the fire, but her words didn't matter anymore.

"People," she continued to cry to deaf ears, "could die."

A gunshot rang out then, muffled and distanced, coming from the manor. Though it was technically the second of the day, they had no way of knowing exactly what was taking place and though there was some hesitance, the motion of all the women moving forwards kept them all moving. Haven ran ahead, a mix of excitement and concern, allowing her arm to fully transform to it's demonic takeover.

The other two were waiting for them, having seen the sign Haven had mentioned, of the kitchen staff fleeing from the windows of the bunkhouse. They made a sizable, if unarmed, force. Just as they were rounding the front of the manor, the doors began to open and the commotion inside threatened to spill out. That is, until they took note not only of the crowd awaiting them there, but also the woman with the scaled, white arm with the claws outstretched for them.

They had no idea, the guards didn't, just what the women outside might be carrying, be it equal or more powerful weapons than the cutlery that the penthouse ones had boasted. Though it was nothing, honestly, they feared the unknown more and fell back. Unfortunately for them, Shae had had a chance to advance then, gun still raised, while the other women had reclaimed their knives.

And it should have ended there.

Locke had Wick pinned to the ground and they could have gotten them surrendered, move to a locked room, and escaped.

It was the intention.

At least for some of them.

The guards fell to the ground when Haven approached them with her demonic arm, ordering this. Maybe she was eating it up too much, in that moment, the absolute power she felt. She'd been a freak, it seemed like, when she transformed on Ewing's manor, but here then men groveled in fear and the women stood around her in admonishment, backing her up. She was moments away from liberating her second manor, gaining access to the tunnels, and shoving it all in stupid Astra's face.

Seeing them though, fall to their knees, for as enjoyable as it was to Haven, it only seemed to spur something inside the penthouse women. The faces of the guards were little more than people in the background, no different than the hired help, to The Factory women, but the penthouse…

Rose made the first lung and drove her knife as rigidly through the chest of the guard before her as she could. As he tried to shove her off, Shae lowered her gun, calling out for her to stop, but the moment was lost to them. The other three women with her, jumped forwards to do the same, slashing and hacking now with more confidence than they had, when they were thrown off before. And with the threat of the demon behind them, the guards cared less about attack back, and more about escaping all together. No longer did they fear what had happened to their master and instead were clawing their way away, to escape the same fate.

A few escaped, running off through the manor, and the women gave chase. Not only the four penthouse women from the floor, but Taree and even some of the older women gave chase, right up the stairs, to hunt them down.

Locke, during this all, wasn't so much struggling with Wick, as much as he was with himself. He had the older man subdued, but as he grit his teeth, he had to watch the other guards slaughtered. Wick called for them to stop, that they surrendered, but the time had passed for that, and as the women ran after those fleeing, he only slowly released Wick and got to his own feet.

Panting, Wick shoved up slowly. The younger man had wrenched the older's arm rather roughly and fucked up his shoulder, but this hardly felt like anything compared to the carnage that lay before him. The older woman didn't allow his eyes to grace the bodies of his fallen, however, and only raised them to glare at the older women, who now crowded the entrance way, wincing, some.

"Where," the man commanded in his heaviest tone, "is Wanda?"

But much like the woman in question, his words didn't mean much any longer.

Locke, after some consideration, moved forwards then, magic circle appearing beneath his palms as he headed to the first of the guards that was still sputtering, to seal his wounds. He went simply by Rote, his family name, he offered simply, when they first met, and they didn't know one another well, if at all, but to just standby while he bled out-

"Fuck you think you're doin'? Huh?" questioned one of the older women as it was them then, that took steps forwards, some with arms crossed over their chest, none concerned with the blood that was beginning to pool across the hardwood. They stood in it even, a barrier between Locke and the men losing it.

"I'm on your side," he insisted simply. "But we can't just let them-"

"It's not your fight. Locke."

Haven had stood silently by for once, as the women picked off the remaining guards, watching, reserved. She might have been able to put a stop to it, in fact, with her demon arm, she knew she could have, as the scene played out over the span of a minute or two, but she only watched. Observed.

Like she was learning to do.

"Haven," he whispered as she step forwards, the women allowing then, marring her shoes with blood. "I'm a medic. I-"

"This is part of it," she insisted to the man, and the demon arm, even in such a short time span, was eating at her magic. She needed things to end. Soon. "You did your part. It's all you can do."

He turned from her, Locke did, from the men sobbing as they bled out. Halbert was back there. Crigin. Another guy that had shared some of his beers with him, when Locke wouldn't come out with them, into town. He brought them back, for them to share in their room. Anderson had been one of the ones to escape, but as they heard different meant crying out, upstairs, cornered with their previous victims, he knew he'd be among them.

"Where are the tunnels?" Locke asked then. His mind was filled with other things, but his words were in hopes of changing that. Focusing in on something else. "Wick. Where are the tunnels?"

He was in his own head space as well now, watching his world crumble, no doubt still considering a way out. at his name, he merely shook his head.

"Fuck you. Hux. You little shit." Rolling his sore shoulder, Wick said, "You let them fucking turn you? These damn women? You fucking moron."

"You're in charge, right?" Haven walked around her boyfriend then, allowing her transformation to fade as she approached Wick instead. The blonde stood before him now, feeling far better in this form than any other, no demon arm, a bit of lost height, but her. "Then you must know the magic, huh? That gets the fucking mark on us? Take mine off."

"Get the fuck away from me," Wick responded darkly as she approached. Glancing over her takeover, he remarked, "Abomination."

"Remove my mark." And Haven's tone wasn't so conversational then. "Now."

Shae had watched as well, as the women attacked the guards. Even started to give chase when they ran after the others. But something held her up. Perhaps what Haven had said to Locke. It wasn't their fight. This part. She didn't feel as any miscarriage of justice had occurred and though the scent was heavy with salt and iron, a metallic mixture that was almost palpable as the last of the men was begging to the darkness for forgiveness.

Turning towards then, she raised her gun was last time.

"Do it," she ordered the man simply. "Remove her mark." Then, swallowing, Shae added, "Then we'll let you go. Like you were going to us. Only her mark. And then you can go. Take your daughter and go."

"My daughter?" He raised his head then as well as his eyebrows, questioning and not believing, but Shae merely nodded honestly.

This seemed to do the trick as he moved to Haven then, holding out a hand over her out stretched arm as a light blue magic circle appeared. Slowly, the marking dissipated and there were murmurs from the women amassed over this, but Haven only looked over her arm, taking a second out to run electricity through it once more.

Haven smiled, almost looking up to thank the man. As she caught herself though, Wick merely looked to Shae.

"My daughter?" he insisted and she relented some with a nod.

"Down the hall," she assured him. "In the closet with all the cleaning supplies. She's sedated, but fine."

He turned his back on Shae, to head that way, but she merely raised the gun and fired it, once, striking him in the back, but as he fell, she advanced to do so one last time, in the back of his skull.

The sound was just as painful as before and Locke, instinctively, had brought his hands up to his ears. Quickly though, he ran some sort of magic through his palms before reaching out for his girlfriend, moving to place his healing palms over hers as well.

"Shae, what the fuck?" Haven complained, but she merely shrugged as she looked to them.

"All the others are dead," she replied simply, but she was shaking a bit, nervous, as her adrenaline slowly fled. "That saw what happened. We couldn't leave him alive. To identify Locke."

"Identify me for what?" he complained.

"We've all just committed crimes against the crown of Bosco," Shae told him as, slowly, she backed away from Wick's still twitching body. "We executed one of the families. We're just slaves, but if he could somehow trace you back to something-"

"Where's Alwood?" Haven asked, looking up at Locke with big eyes. "And that woman you wanna fuck?"

"H-Haven-"

"She knows your name, idiot. Your real name." She made a face as he dropped his hands from her ears. "Did she see you do anything? Or-"

"They fled. I think." Locke shook his head. "I haven't seen either of them."

"Good," Shae remarked. "Then that leaves-"

"Garth. He's still locked away."

This came from Rose who walked down the staircase then the rest of the women in tow. Many of them were much like Shae, slowly reliving their actions, for better or worse. Anna was with them, once more, but physically recoiled at what awaited them in the foyer.

"He doesn't know about you. Locke." Shae, slowly, bent down to set the man in questions gun onto the floor. "If we can get out of here, to the tunnels, and you stay behind-"

"Bea knows where the tunnels are," Haven assured the other woman before turning to look at the crowd of them, the older women, behind them. "Don't you, Bea?"

There was a thumbs up from the woman, somewhere gathered in with the others, as well as a rumble of agreement between them that yes, most of them also knew how to access them.

"But," one of the older women spoke up, "they were sealed up. Concrete. Capital's orders."

"Won't make much difference," Haven assured them as she patted at her boyfriend's arm then. "Locke's steel can break through anything."

"We have to hurry," Shae insisted. "I'm sure Alwood rode into town, to alert them of what was going on. They'll be forming a mob, probably, and maybe even alert the closest sector of royal guards. We can't be here when they arrive."

"Then let's go," Haven decided. It wasn't like it was an unpopular decision, anyways, not only escaping the bodies that littered the ground, but also doing so in the very literal sense. "All of us. Let's-"

Shae claimed, though, that there was one last thing they needed to do. And, as she led Locke to where Nessa was still crumbled and unconscious, he only sighed some as he lifted the young teen into his arms.

"Well," he decided as he carefully stepped around Wick's body, as well as the many others around, "I guess it might be a good thing she's not awake."

Outside, Shae spotted her for the first time. Lize. She'd hung back, behind the older women, scratching at her arm and trying hard to ignore the gnawing in her gut and brain, the pangs equal for somewhere to sleep as they were one of those little pills Monty supplied them all with.

Shae couldn't help it though when, in the light of day, so close to freedom, she saw the other woman. She'd been the closest thing she'd had to a friend for a few harrowing days there and she hugged her, tightly, shocking both herself and Lize.

"I'm so glad," she insisted, blushing a bit as she took a step back, "that you're okay."

But she wasn't yet, and it was obvious. All the other penthouse women, still stomaching what they'd done, were faced with her as a reminder of the other hardship that was still to come for them as well.

Gyu and T were in the back of the group, Haven spotted them, but Wanda was missing and she thought she'd have to go force the woman to leave her damn factory behind...or face the consequences.

However, when they passed it she was standing in the doorway, watching with a strange look on her face. Not one of the bubbling joy and perhaps disbelief that was spread over the others. Something else.

Slowly, she did move to join the procession as they walked away from the manor, led by Bea and a some of the older women, to the shed that Haven and Locke had spent the past few weeks not so secretly conversing.

"Pull up the floor board," Bea assured them, "and beneath it will be match that's been smelted shut. Not sure about going down there, but-"

"It's the only way," Haven assured her. "Locke-"

"Hold on," he called from where he stood, further back. Backing away a bit, he moved to lay the girl in his arms on the ground, taking care. "I just have to-"

"She okay?"

Wanda was at his side then, having rushed the second she had a glimpse of the teen, in the former guard's arms, and dropped to her knees before where she laid, moving to cradle her head.

There were tears in her eyes, but not the good kind as she pulled the teen closer, whispering something softly. While Locke rubbed at his neck awkwardly, Shae only looked away, as did most of the older women in the group.

"She'll be alright," Locke offered as he stepped back then, to go rush towards the front of the line and pry up some floor boards. "Just took a stronger affect on her, the potion did, being so tiny and all."

The man, with the help of his girlfriend and a few of the women, tossed some things out of the shed before pulling up the floor boards to see what he was working with. There was a round hatch, almost like a port hole, that gave entrance into the earth, but was smelted shut currently.

"Be easier with Navi," he offered weakly to Haven as used his father's gifted magic to turn his arm to an iron blade and begin slicing into the smelted steal plating that covered the hatch. Still, as this brought him some pain, he only gritted his teeth as he added, "Maybe."

Eventually, he was able to pry the hatch up and then it was a made rush to get all the women to climb down the short ladder that adhered to the side of wall. It was dark and there wasn't much anyone could do for that (though, Locke muttered again, it'd be much easier were their favorite Dragneel around), except maybe Haven once she got down there.

She mentioned this, too, to Locke as she stood to the side with him, watching the women one by one disappear into the hole.

"Navi," she replied simply, "would never have come here."

"Yeah?" Locke shook his head some, still knowing the nightmare that was awaiting him back inside. "Maybe that's a good thing."

Haven knew her boyfriend was upset, but there wasn't much she could do for him in that short time frame. And, after helping the women work getting the incapacitated Nessa down the ladder, it was only her remaining topside.

"You don't know how long you're going to be down there," he told her in parting. "Or how vast and confusing the system is. And you can't even come back up this way. So...mark it down, you know? And-"

"Not the first time I've been lost in some tunnels, Locke," Haven retorted with a bit of a grin. "And hey, you're going to have to play hurt, right? When Alwood and them get back? One of the only two lone survivors?"

She was moving then, to climb down the ladder and he only stood before her, shrugging some.

"What about it?"

"Want me to knock you out? With my lightning punch?" For some reason, she almost seemed a bit excited at the idea. "To play it up?"

"No, Have. I think that's a really shit idea, actually." Still, he came forwards at first, Haven thought, to give her a proper kiss goodbye, but then his hand went to one of his pockets, pulling something from them. "Take this though. In case I have trouble getting across the boarder."

She made a face when he presented her with her necklace, snatch it to shove in her own pocket before, with a sigh, starting down the ladder.

"Keep that on you, do you?" Haven tried to sound above it, but he could hear it in her voice. What was usually in his own. Whenever they were parting. "Loser."

"Stay safe." He leaned over the hole, watching her disappear into the darkness below. As he slowly began to drop the hatch, aware that he needed to cover it once more, with the floor boards and objects, as to hide the women's true departure, he added, "I'll see you on the other side."