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Chapter Specific Warning(s):
Danger noodle(s), handholding
Opening Notes:
This is Part II of Chapter XX, continuing where we left off in the past with Adrian returning to his office in the hopes of finding a certain cat plushie. Apologies for the extended wait, as I had to rewrite portions of the first scene. Nevertheless, I'm now happy where things have landed. Be sure to let me know your thoughts. And as always, be sure to...
Enjoy!
XX: A Thespian's Tune (Part II)
New Providence: [Redacted]
Date: [Redacted]
The Doctor
Luckily, the short jaunt to his office was carried out uninterrupted, giving Adrian a reprieve from his assigned vipers, who would hopefully remain on their best behavior while he was away. And despite Sprout's reluctance to allow him to travel unattended, the doctor had made it to this point, and his objective was clear—locate a supposedly missing cat plushie, whom he'd spotted earlier that day. However, as Adrian leaned down to check the fluffy quinzhee directly beside his desk, he discovered that it now lay empty.
"Strange…"
The caretaker stood back up and then gazed across the surface of his otherwise cluttered desk, which held all sorts of gizmos, doodads, and thingamajigs that Jara had cooked up for him in her more recent free time. Of course, she had official names for each scrap invention, but he'd yet to have them all properly placarded. He palmed one of them, winding a small rotary arm until a repurposed camera lens dimly lit the wall in front of him. It still amazed him how someone so large could disassemble and reassemble such devices with pinpoint accuracy, though he'd come to figure the serpent's otherworldly eyesight and attention to detail played pivotal roles.
Adrian set the odd contraption down on the desk as his eyes addressed a sealed container, which was tucked neatly in front of a stack of manila folders and etched with a familiar band of Advent symbols.
Thanks in part to reviewing sections of his tactical readiness report, which was based on his firsthand experience on the eve of the attack, his superiors decided to roll out the latest round of experimental chips, ahead of schedule, and with Jade and Jara being the first hybrids to undergo such procedures. And while neither of their true personalities was noticeably altered as a result, such fear still lived in the back of his mind, making him that much more hesitant to perform the task on Marmalade, who was next in line after having her new chip delivered to him that morning.
The doctor pulled his hand away from the container and gazed across the room instead. He took note of the large bookcases guarding a secondary entrance, the very same that had led him to injury a week prior. Adrian then looked down at his closest hand, opening and closing it while also acknowledging the small, glass-soaked scars that Advent deemed unnecessary to hide. The medical wrappings around his head also served as a reminder of what had transpired.
Regardless, Eight had initially fared better than him, recovering after her loss of control and then being confined to her room under armed guard. Shortly after, the tertiary entrance to her room, which spilled out into the living area, was fully sealed off, leaving only the laboratory entryways located on the rear and leftmost sides accessible. Thankfully, this meant that the rest of his vipers were more or less isolated by the influx of attention. However, since her mistake, Eight had been punished severely and placed under an even larger magnifying glass, making her prickly personality that much harder to deal with, especially for anyone other than himself.
The caretaker slowly exhaled, stepping away from his desk to search the other quinzhees nested around the room. Admittedly, he probably should've stopped at seven, but Marmalade insisted that her clowder have additional pathways to his office in case of an emergency sleepover brought about by either the French or XCOM operatives storming the city. Though both cases seemed unlikely, she also claimed that her cats would keep him company while he did his 'funny doctor' activities, thereby reducing overall stress as he went about his day.
Adrian laughed, realizing how easy it had been to convince him of the fact. Hell, even Sprout had gifted him a pot of pilfered monkey grass, which she claimed reminded her of a certain dwarf caretaker. And while perceived as another one of her signature insults, given the silver serpent's earlier confession, the act had evidently carried a deeper meaning. Nevertheless, the man chose to defer such internal debate, instead turning to check inside a final quinzhee, which had since found a home on the second bookcase.
"Ah, Sir Hydelpaws; there you are."
A pair of green eyes answered back from the uppermost shelf, silently judging him despite a storied history of stubborn inactivity—typical cat really.
Nevertheless, such felines had grown on him over time, much like their derpy owner, who would be overjoyed to know that her very bestest surveyor was still fulfilling his duty. With that, the man reached up, seizing the stuffed animal by its scruff and carefully pulling it into his arms.
"How in the world did you get up there all by yourself?"
Unsurprisingly, the cat plushie enacted to stay quiet.
"Fair enough. Now, let's get you back to your..." Adrian's eyes were suddenly drawn to his desk, where a call buzzer slowly lit up, notifying him that one of his vipers required immediate attention. However, Adrian couldn't help but chuckle. "Geez, Jara. It's one thing to be impatient, but this is getting a bit ridicul…" His voice petered out once more as his mind finally registered just which buzzer was currently sounding off.
"That's…not possible."
Sure enough, despite his earlier success at disconnecting it, the call beacon to Eight's room was now flickering on and off, emitting a weak whine that left him completely dumbfounded. It was then accompanied by a macabre voice, which seemed to steadily knock at the backdoor to his subconsciousness. Then, without added warning, a phantom needle drove itself into Adrian's hand, causing him to release a startled yelp and let go of Marmalade's stuffed animal, which was left to tumble to a vacant floor.
Thankfully, the searing pain quickly diminished, giving the man an opportunity to shuffle the cat plushie back into his arms. Afterwards, he looked toward the entrance of his office, over at the bookshelf, and then back to it with growing anxiety. Because despite his best attempt, the unacquainted voice still whispered into his ear, pronouncing his name as though it had adopted his pain.
"Damn it…"
After reorienting himself, Adrian brought the cat plushie to eye level. "Forgive me, Sir Hydelpaws, but you'll need to survey the area for a little while longer."
With that, the caretaker quickly made enough space on his desk for the nearest quinzhee, placing Marmalade's cat safely inside and then storming over to the palm scanner situated next to the rightmost bookcase, which gave way as the reinforced door fell inwards. After granting himself access to the auxiliary lab, Adrian pressed forward, glancing briefly at the trail of destruction and fallen pillar still left over from Eight's psionic episode. And despite largely being sectioned off for repair, such a pathway still granted him access to her cell, whose secondary set of guards had noticeably disappeared from their post.
Adrian's heart began to race, with him knowing all too well what that meant. And sure enough, a series of loud thuds echoing throughout the adjacent room only reinforced his fears, compelling him to hasten his pace to the opposite end of the lab. From there, he activated a second steel-clad door and braced himself, being offered only a moment's rest before what he knew would be a raging storm. And sure enough, upon first stepping into the containment cell, a string of foreign curses greeted him, followed closely by the blurred silhouette of an Advent stun lancer, who was effortlessly tossed through the air and then collided with a concrete pillar.
The doctor winced at the sound of dented armor and crushed bone. He then traced his eyes to a discarded syringe, unspent and ultimately falling to a black and blue tail, which now jolted in distress as another pair of lancers fought to keep its unruly owner pushed against her bed. All the while, ethereal tongues continued to broadcast their resulting struggle.
"What's the meaning of this?!"
Luckily, his voice carried enough weight to draw their red gazes, whose visored appearance juxtaposed a pair of unfiltered eyes that now pooled with a deadly hue. Though he initially shuddered at the sight, his attention was drawn to another presence, which slowly glance out from behind a neighboring pillar; he recognized her immediately.
"Dr. Carrington, what're you doing in here?"
The woman returned an uncertain expression. "Stay back, Dr. Fairchild. The lancers have everything under control, and we'll have the test subject sedated before she's able to—"
A wave of psionic energy cut the woman off as it abruptly bloomed outward from an unshackled Eight, propelling the remaining guards high into a vaulted ceiling and then permitting their battered forms to crash back to earth in a cataleptic heap. With the gruesome deed accomplished, the hybrid gradually pushed herself off the bed, regained balance on her tail, and then shifted her attention to the human trespassers. However, her azure eyes only regarded him briefly before directing their burning gaze over to Dr. Carrington, who began to stumble toward the exit.
Despite the difference in scale, the shoulder-high viper managed to gain ground over her target, letting a small stream of psionic energy spider down her arms and form concentrated blades the size of a paring knife. However, as Eight slithered past her caretaker, Adrian made sure to latch onto her closest arm, rotating it vertically and using his body to block her view of the other scientist.
With ebony serpent in hand, Adrian looked over his shoulder to address his retreating colleague. "I believe it's time for you to leave, Dr. Carrington. Whatever you did has greatly upset her, and I'll need some additional time to—"
"What I've done?!" the woman seethed, permitting vitriol to seep further into her voice. "It's because of your viper that I'm now left without a—"
"We can discuss the matter later, doctor." He felt a tug on his arm as Eight made another attempt to slither forward, burbling what were likely insults at the other female while continuing to brandish a set of honed claws. He quickly shifted his eyes back to Dr. Carrington. "Just do as I've asked and allow me a chance to calm her down."
Dr. Carrington looked at what was left of her guards, retaining an air of uncertainty. "But I—"
"Please..." He registered another tug, knowing that it was only a matter of time before Eight's patience would run dry, "...she trusts me most."
Thankfully, the woman responded with a curt nod, doing her best to avoid the hybrid's eyes as she hobbled past a final downed lancer and ran a keycard across a door panel at the far end of the cell. Once there, she muttered under her breath before snaking her way through its opening, leaving him to contend with one of the Initiative's most dangerous prospects.
In spite of this, Dr. Fairchild exhaled, directing his emeralds down to an angry serpent, who continued to spew enigmatic invectives in a similar manner as Sprout, at least before she was gifted a voice. And while Eight's overall size continued to work against her, he knew that she could easily dispose of him like her guards should he misinterpret any of her responses and drive her to further ire.
However, much to his surprise, Eight allowed her psionics to dissipate, ignoring him completely as she channeled all of her anger into her tail, which lifted and then crushed the discarded syringe. The viper made sure to smear its contents against an array of hardened scales, taking immense pleasure in its destruction. From there, she turned her attention to the nearest guard, showcasing a deadly pair of fangs that dripped a caustic venom, which he made sure to dodge as it tried to burn its way through the floor's special sealing.
Unfortunately, the serpent's victory celebration proved short-lived as her tail began to violently shake, ending in a rather pitiful exclamation that forced her eyes back up to him. And despite her best efforts to hide it, a once purple hue soon gave way to unwelcomed tears, which did little to stifle the fallout of her actions. As the wave of inevitability took hold, Eight's entire body went into shock, leaving her dangling by means of a mended arm.
In spite of her size, Adrian's body still succumbed to the added weight, compelling him to step forward and gain leverage over the viper, who remained unresponsive as he placed one arm underneath her tail and used the other to support her back. Afterwards, the doctor shambled over to a poor excuse for a bed, whose thinly veiled sheets lay splattered with blood, which continued to flow from an unguarded snout.
After stationing the afflicted serpent on her side, Adrian leaned over to her newly acquired nightstand, which was black as the night yet already riddled with numerous claw marks, much like the last one and nearly every other piece of furniture that had been recycled for her cell. Pulling open the bottommost drawer revealed an all too familiar medical kit, one that soon produced a large needle and accompanied syringe—two things Eight had grown to hate with a passion.
Regardless, the hybrid was no longer in a state to combat his decision, granting him free rein to marry the two together and then direct their contents into her bloodstream. Luckily, it didn't take long for it to take effect, quelling her tremors while also giving him a chance to lean back in relief. Although, the man halted midway through the action, readily reminded that the bed's headboard had since been removed, disarming any sense of ownership once the rest of it was chained to the center of the room.
After straightening his back, Adrian sighed, looking up at the ceiling and noticing the fresh round of surveillance equipment that failed to survive Eight's wrath. He then shifted his eyes back to the viper in question, lying motionless in his arms and still wearing one of his stolen undershirts while the serum continued to run its course. Admittedly, being in the constant company of giants sometimes made him forget what it was like to be the largest person in the room, even if that someone came packaged with a tail, which…
The doctor hesitated as his gaze stopped midway down the length of the viper's body, locating another patchwork of damaged scales. He then glanced over to the guards that had held Eight against her will, spotting a shock lance that was no doubt responsible.
Adrian frowned, incensed by their inhuman brutality, and then slowly heaved the serpent off her bed and into his lap. Despite promising to return to his other vipers with plushie in tow, he figured that waiting for Eight to come to would assist in an otherwise rocky relationship, choosing to steadily rock her back and forth in sheltered expectation. After all, much like the silver viper before her, he'd slowly been getting through to the livid little serpent. Therefore, the caretaker proceeded with a tune, one of the first that he'd learned from his wife, originally using it to get Eight to approach him from beyond the glass. And while his voice was completely rubbish, he carried onward, looking to a plastic table and neighboring corkboard, both spared of her usual markings.
Instead, a long line of graphite and charcoal pencils lay meticulously organized across the table's surface, guarded by a stack of papers and kneaded erasers. As for her victims, most sat within what he'd come to define as her 'unfinished drawer,' which he wasn't brave enough to peruse without her permission, knowing that despite his recent progress, he still remained on very, very thin ice.
Regardless, since putting him in the infirmary, Eight had somehow deemed his inevitable presence acceptable, at least when compared to the other humans that ran her life. Though, such a mistake on her end came with further isolation from her sisters, which was something he'd originally hoped to avoid.
The man sighed once more, recalling what Sprout had said earlier and knowing that axing her most recent set of guards wouldn't bode well when it came to convincing his superiors that she should be regranted her recreational privileges. Nevertheless, her newly admitted skill did offer him a brief avenue into the all-too-cryptic mind of Crazy Eights.
Interestingly enough, the nickname brought the smallest of smiles to his face, and the man acknowledged the drawings deemed acceptable for her corkboard. Naturally, all of her favorites were created with charcoal, maintained the precision of neophyte, and were likely woven in allegory. Regardless, the hybrid's choice of topics was unmistakable—mythological creatures.
In fact, three out of the five drawings pinned to the board ended up being dragons, whereas the final two displayed an amalgamation between a snake and the former. And while the aforementioned drawings each sported a hood, horns, and a powerful tail, only her latest one came to span the entire length of the page. It was also fully completed, eclipsing a small hamlet placed in front of the otherworldly creature's path. As for its eyes, they remained reptilian in nature, appearing to cut straight into the viewer's soul.
A flash of movement drew Adrian's attention away from the drawing and back to its owner, who now regarded him with similar eyes, which had tracked him down the night of the attack. And while incredibly reckless and going against everything he warned her about, Eight ultimately had a hand in sparing him from Preacher's wrath. Although, unlike Marmalade, she was offered no medal for her efforts, being confined to another cell before allowing her emotions to get the better of her once again. So, in a sense, he still felt bad for Eight, doing his best to accommodate her situation despite coming up short at every turn.
"Hey, how are you feeling?"
Upon fully registering his voice, the azure eyes narrowed and considerably cooled. Such expression was followed closely by a rather cross string of high-pitched warbles, which ended in a clawed hand being forcefully raked across his arm, causing the man to let go and buck the small serpent off his lap as he yelped in pain.
"What the hell was that for?!" Adrian responded shortly after, recoiling even further from his viperine attacker and registering a fresh line of blood that slowly trickled onto her bed. "I was just trying to help, and this is how you repay me?"
Thankfully, the wound appeared largely superficial, and his hybrid aggressor took immediate note of his adverse reaction, softening her expression and making another attempt for his arm. Despite his best efforts, Eight eventually found success in reeling him back in. She then examined his latest wound with a blue tongue before comparing it to her own, making sure to outline her apparent disgust toward those responsible. Naturally, such assailants were unable to counter such babbling claims; however, it was evident that she now thought him an accomplice to their crimes.
"Me?" Adrian answered in shock. "I was left completely unaware of Dr. Carrington's motives. While it wasn't right for her to enter your room without first consulting me…" He gestured to one of the incapacitated guards. "You can't keep doing this if you want them to leave you alone. It'll only make matters worse as we proceed along this path."
Unsurprisingly, his hastily constructed explanation was met with even greater irritation on her part. Although, instead of outright retaliation, the pervicacious serpent enacted to overlap her arms and turn away, displaying the backside of an abnormally meager hood, which failed to obscure her frigid gaze. He then followed her eyes back to a sparse corkboard.
"Look, Eight, what I meant to say is that I'm…sorry." He allowed his warm breath to catch against her black sail. "What happened to you earlier was my fault, and I should've been wise to the situation before tending to the others." The man began to fiddle with the platinum band around his finger as his mind flashed back to events before the accident. He also noted the way in which she huffed at the mention of her sisters.
"When we spoke from opposite ends of that stasis chamber, I ultimately meant what I said." He looked at the surface of her nightstand, locating a plastic green mouse that she'd stolen from one of their recreational games—mouse trap to be precise.
In the past, board games and a strange affinity for frozen dairy products were the only methods to coerce Eight into interacting with the others in a somewhat positive manner. Now, stock-standard variants, like Marmalade, were still regarded as lactose intolerant, much like their terrestrial counterparts. However, part of his research involved introducing such carbohydrates to a viper's diet, resulting in hybrids capable of digesting and adjusting to Earth's offerings.
Unfortunately, Eight's body had adapted and then some, and the ice cream machine in the new break room was deemed inoperable for the better half of the week, leaving his outside supply of Advent Push Pops and Archon Bars completely depleted. Also, such misfortune was due in part to Marmalade wanting to share them with a couple of strays that she'd found on the street, and Sprout using them for well…Sprout things. Naturally, he told Eight that the ice cream truck stationed a couple of blocks over had simply run out, shielding the others from her dairy-deprived fury. And while the ebony serpent's anger on such topics was profound, she ultimately forgave his misstep, something that she hadn't done before.
Regardless, Eight responded to his apology with a noticeable roll of her eyes. Afterwards, she adjusted her stance in an effort to stand tall against her caretaker, who exhaled, humbling himself before deciding to continue with another one of their tense conversations.
"As you rightfully know by now, words are but wind. But if you're looking for honesty, I'm still afraid, Eight. Afraid for what the future may hold after feeling increasingly lost in this position, especially since the attack in Unification Park and the fallout of…your...well..."
Adrian shifted his attention back to her nightstand, finding one of the few books granted to the viper in her heavily restricted state. Complete with three volumes and spanning over twelve hundred pages, its cover carried three decorated rings surrounding a larger golden one, which lay unadorned and captured a black eye at its center. The man couldn't help but smile as he turned his gaze back to his largely disobedient viper.
"However, I'm told that not all who wander are lost, and given the opportunity, even the smallest person can change the course of the future."
While Eight initially grumbled at the reference, the azure eyes left her drawing and then lifted to face him. All the while, ambient light shimmered against the blue stripes on her tail, which slowly stretched itself out until it fell completely in line with his legs. Unfortunately, a high-pitched burble soon resonated from the viper's core as she was suddenly compelled to address the freshly bruised scales along her tail. Although, such efforts were quickly thwarted by a five-fingered hand, which forced her gaze back to him.
"No. You'll only cause further damage if you address them with those claws," Adrian declared, producing a large patch from the medical kit and then pausing to acknowledge another subset of foreign protests. "Don't worry, there's no needle, just some adhesive with a special chemical that'll help protect those scales until your next shed. It won't hurt in the slightest." He then held out his hand in front of her, making sure to extend his smallest finger. "Pinky promise."
The foreign gesture perplexed the viper, who raised a scaly brow before extending her own in experimentation. Adrian smiled slightly and then curled his larger finger around hers, being rewarded with a rather mystified warble.
"It's a show of respect and means that I won't break my promise to you. Otherwise, you're…" He hesitated, thinking of something to say other than her being permitted to break his finger if such assumptions were proven incorrect. "Uhm…you're allowed to ask for something of equal value in return."
Eight regarded their conjoined fingers and then her jumbled reflection created by the surface of his ring. Meanwhile, her caretaker used the opportunity to carefully station the medical patch against her wound, motioning to it with his opposite hand once the task was complete.
"See? No tears or pain." He gently let go of the viper's finger to idly brush across the side of his face. "Though, you'll probably need another one of those to hold you over until your next shed."
Eight regarded the patch on her tail with a slight wiggle, confirming its integrity but releasing a measured wince immediately after. Unsurprisingly, an accusatory gaze soon interrogated his own.
"Uhm, at least there weren't any tears?" Adrian suggested with a nervous smile.
While the edges of Eight's lips momentarily lifted, her eyes narrowed even further, and the hybrid quickly adopted her signature expression, which saw a thin line of frost froth from a blue tongue. Then, without warning, a black hand was launched his way, lassoing onto an exposed wrist and then pulling him toward the midsection of her tail, which proved to be just as cold as the rest of the serpent. Afterwards, she looked to him for a response, likely wanting him to make good on his implied reparations.
"Well, in hindsight, I probably should've chosen my words more carefully." Adrian rubbed the back of his neck, catching the edge of his wrappings as his hand continued upwards. "Though, I'm a man of my word and would be happy to assist you on the matter. It's just that…" His anxious smile returned, "…I'm not sure that I completely understand. So, to make sure that we're both on the same page, could you please elaborate for me?"
His confession was met with another spout of frustration on her end. However, despite this fact, Eight briefly paused, allowing the gears of thought to make several revolutions in her head until a fictitious lightbulb illuminated above it. And much to his surprise, the prickly viper offered her back to him, shed a white undershirt, took hold of his hand, and then placed it on a petite shoulder, all in quick succession. From there, she drew small circles around a layer of dusky scales, illustrating with his hand as though it were a brush and then letting go in anticipation.
"Wait. You're saying that you want a massage as well?"
Eight moved to bob her head up and down but stopped midway through the act, tilting it sideways as a two-word question threaded her lips.
"Oh!" Adrian's eyes widened, and he began to fiddle with his ring once more. "Well, you see, I ended up losing a bet with your sisters during one of the more recent recreational periods; you were still in a state of recovery at the time." A nervous laugh escaped his lungs. "It was largely orchestrated by Sprout, mind you, but they tricked me into giving them all uhh…massages, which…"
The ebony viper's smile had long since disappeared, being replaced by an icy scowl that reminded him of when they first met. He shivered at the thought, knowing that despite facing similar trials in the way of an antagonistic personality, Sprout's lowest low was nothing compared to Eight.
"Never mind." He tried his best to hold an innocent smile. "What's important is that I'm all warmed up and saved my favorite viper for last." Adrian paused, allowing his trailing words to set in." With that said, please uhm, turn around so that I may tend to the huntress' needs." To cement his claim, the man offered up his hand in consolation, hoping that the usually ornery serpent would accept such concession in turn. "As usual, I'll be sure to keep this between us."
At first, Eight took note of his purposeful word choice. Her eyes slowly drifted from the ring on his hand to the mouse on the nightstand, drumming up a tune of their own as a rich hue sparked between ebony slits, which soon shifted to match his green ones. A four-fingered hand tipped in polished talons then fell into his, matched only by a pair of white fangs sprouting from what he perceived as a sincere smile, which was something that he hadn't seen Eight produce outside of her interactions with Sprout.
In response, Adrian couldn't help but return the gesture, completely lowering his guard as he made an attempt to look toward an untampered backside, which would soon reap the benefits of an honest massage.
"And don't worry, once finished, I'll be sure to track down Dr. Carrington and put an end to this mad...ness..."
However, such whole-hearted sentiments were disillusioned as a dark hue suddenly prevented him from looking away, slurring his speech as another voice returned to the fold. As before, it gently whispered his name, calling to him as his consciousness was slowly lulled into a state of pacification.
Such disarming nature was quickly marred by an ebony hand, which easily overpowered the doctor in his entranced state, forcing him face-down onto the bed. Adrian then felt an acquainted appendage coil around his legs, followed closely by a resolute set of claws, which wasted little time in tearing off his lab coat. From there, they slowly traced the edges of his waistband, permitting a viperine tail to compress him against its ebony scales. And with her prey now ensnarled within a psionic hold, the huntress' claws were repositioned onto his backside, preparing their canvas for a hellacious chef-d'oeuvre.
Despite the blitz attack, Eight's overused powers soon waned in the face of Adrian's second wind, granting the larger human some semblance of control, which provoked a single droned protest that would hopefully bring the hybrid to her senses. However, to his mounting horror, such efforts on his part appeared to only embolden her, resulting in a razor-sharp talon being placed against the inside of his shoulder blade with an apparent intent of dragging it all the way down his—
"Release him, you overzealous bitch!"
In response, the piercing pressure on Adrian's back diminished, leaving the ebony serpent to struggle to keep him within her stasis. All the while, her azure eyes lifted to meet her accuser, who slithered toward them with a determined set of diamonds. A familiar cat plushie lay guarded in one of her arms, while the other balanced a lance, which was threaded in series by an extended chain of psionic energy. As for her voice, its usual honeyed resonance lay vapid in the wake of her unleashed fury, which she immediately turned against Eight.
"Have you gone deaf in your isolation, sister? I said release our caretaker at once!"
Adrian's attacker appeared to frown at the distinction, tightening her hold around his legs and forcing out another groan of discomfort. She then regarded her snowy sister with a rebellious burble, daring her to take action. However, before either could react, her quarry finally found his voice.
"Sprout?" he managed. "I thought I told you to remain with the others and help Jara set up her game?"
"Stay out of this, Adrian," Sprout snapped. "Besides, you took too long, and I—I mean, Marmalade grew worried." The silver serpent briefly acknowledged the plushie in her possession before directing her gaze back to her smaller sister. "An intuition that's proving to be well-founded."
Eight balked at the accusation, straightening herself in spite of her prey's continued protests.
"I'm so disappointed in you, dear," Sprout continued with an accustomed sense of betrayal laden into her voice. "Despite all that we've been through to get to this point, sharing everything together, this is how you choose to repay me?"
The ebony viper's cold-blooded gaze regarded him briefly before tracing back to Sprout, narrowing dangerously and then followed closely in turn by a long string of critical warbles.
"Me?!" Sprout's eyes adopted a purple hue. "That was only after you decided to get selfish, closing your mind off as if it would better serve your cause." Sprout took note of the thin line of blood dripping from her muzzle and then the psionic inhibitors drilled into the backside of a snow-white hood. "You were my sister in pain." She then dared to stare straight into the other serpent's eyes. "And while you've forced my hand on this, I don't want to fight you, Eight. So, if you'd just let me in once more, I'm sure that we can learn to share like—"
A venomous hiss came as an immediate retort, matched closely by a thorny band of energy that stemmed from an angry set of eyes. However, before getting the opportunity to act, Eight's influence over him ceased, leaving him to tumble off the bed and onto the ground as his captor took flight, falling against her plastic table and taking one of its chairs with her.
After finding success with her rescue, Sprout slithered forward, granting him an opportunity to stand before Sir Hydelpaws was swiftly pressed into his arms, granting the snowy viper free range of her other hand, which she used to pull him aside. All the while, Eight slowly lifted herself back onto her tail, tossing aside the offending chair with a quick wave of her hand, which had come to match her frenzied state, shimmering with a dark confluence of psionic energy that worked to tether a storm of sharpened pencils. Upon lifting off the surface of the table, they began to orbit around her shoulders and head, forming a jagged crown before being rotated toward her larger sister, who managed to hold her ground.
"Don't try it," Sprout warned, glancing down at the javelin coupled in her hand and then at Eight's unguarded snout, whose own stream ran unabated. "After all, you and I both know how this will end..." She matched the other viper's pace, conjuring up a psionic barrier that began to wall her caretaker off from their inevitable struggle. "And I'd rather you get an opportunity to prove that you're nothing like those fucking scien—"
"Stop!" Despite the attempt, Adrian pushed past the budding barrier in favor of placing himself between the warring parties. "Whatever you're fighting over..." He paused to catch his breath, looking at the snowy serpent first. "...it's not worth it, and we can figure this out together, minus the violence." His gaze then fell on the ebony viper, whose azure eyes continued to flood with an unnatural hue, acknowledging the draconic creatures outlined on her corkboard before directing their untapped hatred toward her silver-streaked sister. "Please...Eight, it's not worth it. So, let's just calm down and talk through this like—"
The caretaker never got the chance to finish. Instead, he felt his feet leave the ground as an invisible force pulled him back inside the barrier, whose owner came under immediate fire from a hail of improvised daggers. However, their tips soon coupled with the armor of an Advent lancer, whose torpid form was hulled off the ground and then directed into their flight path. After serving its purpose, the guard was accelerated toward Eight, who was left to dodge its pin-cushioned bulk, allowing Sprout enough time to form a protective barrier around herself, which splintered a final wave of honed projectiles.
Coming away unscathed, Sprout pressed her advantage by hurling another pair of guards through the air, gaining ground over her retreating sister with javelin at the ready. And despite an honest attempt to negate the thespian's influence, Eight soon found herself pinned against her corkboard, being confined to the same stasis that she'd forced upon him.
"Are you finally ready to hear what I have to say?!" Sprout chided, letting anguish control her tone. "Or do you now count yourself among the insufferable assholes who've made my life a living hell?!" One of the guards used to cement her claim was dragged out of the way without a second thought, clearing the way to the ebony viper, whose frigid breath danced alongside her snowy accuser. "So, which is it, sister?" Sprout leveled her voice as a white hand raised to wipe away a river of yellow from a dappled snout. Once tended to, a bright pair of diamonds looked down upon her smaller sister. "Because I've grown tired of this charade." The accuser quickly caught herself. "But I'm also willing to listen if you'd do so for me."
Unfortunately, such corrective measures on Sprout's part were quickly met with another enraged warble, compelling the silver serpent to retrace her slithers for added distance. She then stopped to acknowledge her caretaker before looking back into an azure set of eyes, smiling in the hopes of a calmer resolution. "Please..." Again, the foreign word appeared to leave behind a bitter aftertaste. "I'm all for second chances, especially considering our storied history surrounding—"
Sprout's final plea was cut short as Eight suddenly threw her entire body into breaking free of her stasis, falling to the floor before immediately righting herself on an ebony tail and then charging head-on toward her rival with purple daggers extended from both arms. However, such misplaced tenacity was quickly curtailed by a focused javelin, whose tip blunted across a scaled chest and then bloomed outwards. From there, Eight was propelled back into her corkboard, which toppled onto the ground alongside her in a disheveled mess, ending the psionic exchange with a pitiful whimper.
In spite of her triumph, Sprout leaned over to catch her breath, steadying a shaky hand once she was able to stand upright. The viper then pivoted on her tail to face him, dissolving her barrier and making sure to turn her claws away before backhanding him across the face. While relatively soft by her standards, Sprout's remaining strength was enough to send him down on one knee and croaking in surprise.
"What the hell was that for?!" Adrian droned as the newfound pain slowly left him. "I step in to assist in disarming the situation, and you—"
"Damn it, Adrian. Are you as dumb as you are dense?!" The hybrid seethed, drawing her hand back to address an unconscious Eight, whose muzzle began to form a pool of warm blood across the cold floor. And despite another honest attempt, a final charcoal drawing fell prey to the foreign fluid before Sprout had the chance to pick it up alongside the others. She made sure to place them on their owner's nightstand, covering up Eight's mouse and novel in the process.
"Huh? What're you talking—"
"What did you say to her?!" Sprout demanded, taking possession of the discarded undershirt from the bed and then slithering over to her ebony sister, who was carefully propped up against the wall and covered to preserve her modesty. Once finished, Sprout returned to him, pulling him abruptly to his feet and then shoving Marmalade's plushie back into his arms. Continuing in line with the gesture, her expression remained cold as the serpent lifted herself on her tail, managing an extra couple of inches and making him feel even smaller.
"Answer the question, doctor. Now."
"I…" Again, her sobering tone caught him unprepared. "Th-there was originally a scuffle between your sister and the guards." The doctor motioned toward the one that had been dragged next to his feet and then to the viper in question. "While I don't know what led to it, I moved to address a wound on her tail once the dust settled, promising to take care of her as she regained consciousness. Although, I guess that she...decided to..." Adrian exhaled, acknowledging the displaced corkboard, "...take matters into her own hands once I let my guard down."
"I see." Sprout grabbed hold of his chin, forcing his gaze upwards into her own, which darkened briefly. Then, just as quickly, the hybrid released him, tucking in her hood as she released her own exhalation. "Damn it. She may never forgive me for this."
The man mirrored the viper's posture. "Look, Sprout, this...is all my fault. I'm sorry for ever thinking that I could—"
"Adrian, do me a fucking favor and stop saying that you're sorry all the time." Sprout paused to quell a second wave of emotion, lowering her voice as her hands fell to her side. "Besides, I was likely the reason this transpired in the manner it did." Her shoulders slumped even further. "Even still, I tried reasoning with her and remained hopeful that she'd come to her senses eventually…" Again, Sprout noted her fallen sister. "But the thought of sharing was no longer enough."
Her caretaker's brow furrowed. "What exactly do you mean by sharing?"
The viper offered him a weak smile. "Come now, doctor, considering all the knowledge gathered inside that scientific dome of yours, one would think that you'd have a leg up when it comes to understanding how vipers work, especially after what was discussed inside my room."
As the dots slowly connected inside his head, Adrian's blood ran cold, causing the man to stammer in place while the right words evaded him. "I'm not, there's no way that...you can't possibly believe that she of all people would have any interest in…" He trailed off, taking an additional couple of seconds to allow his synapses to reset and then promptly lowering his head in defeat.
"Why…"
Even after regarding his platinum band and the stuffed animal pressed against it, the edges of Sprout's maw lifted. A snow-white hand then cupped his shoulder, allowing her forked tongue to steadily sample the air around them. "We can discuss the matter later." Sprout released him, directing her diamonds back to Eight, whose azure eyes continued to lay vacant. "Besides, I want to get things cleaned up before your misinformed colleagues start poking their snouts into places they shouldn't. Now come, let's get my little sister back into her bed. With luck, I'll be able to salvage this situation once she wakes up."
Adrian's gaze slowly lifted. "But how?"
"As I said, a conversation for another time." The wily viper's honeyed tone returned as she offered the man an optimistic wink, pivoting away from him in a renewed effort to assist her sister. "We've dawdled enough, and I still need to get back to Jara so that I can royally fuck up Madam Hoodless' character sheet." Sprout made sure to release a quick huff. "Mark my words, she'll rue the day after suggesting that I'm nothing more than a…than a…a…"
The viper's voice slowly withered, juxtaposing a rigid posture that traveled the entire length of her tail, ending with a fully extended hood, which blocked his view of her face.
"Nothing more than a what? Sprout, are you okay?" Adrian redonned his lab coat and then slowly shuffled forward, tucking the plushie into his body as he went before placing a comforting hand onto the serpent's shoulder, which responded to his touch with cold indifference. "Uhm, Ground Control to Major Sprout, are there any signs of life up there, or do I…need…to…"
Adrian trailed off as he made his way to the other side of the hybrid, gazing up into her eyes and discovering that they were now brimmed with tears, which slowly trickled down a freckled snout and formed an unsettling confluence with her blood. The hairs on the back of his neck immediately stood on end, giving him a renewed sense of dread as he hastily shifted his focus to the medical kit stationed on Eight's bed.
"Don't worry, Sprout. I'll have you fixed up momentarily. So, please stay put until I've scrounged around for something that'll quell your—"
One of the viper's hands intercepted his own in transit, locking Adrian in place while a set of talons tunneled their way into his skin, causing the man to yell out in surprise. A powerful tail then followed suit, winding around his ankle in a malevolent fashion and cutting off all circulation.
"The asset has been secured and all highlighted dissidence detained." Sprout's purple eyes left him in favor of whatever was now behind her. "You're free to enter, artificer."
"Artificer?" Adrian repeated, feeling a bead of sweat slowly transfer down his neck.
"Thank you, Subject 47," a brassy voice made its presence felt from across the cell, drawing further attention to its rearmost entrance, where a frighteningly large man now stood. His declaration was immediately followed up by a company of Advent troopers, which sectioned off through the door until two armored columns ran the entire length of the room, leaving Adrian and his vipers surrounded on all sides. "Now, you may release Dr. Fairchild. I'd like to have a word with him at this time."
"Understood," Sprout answered in a monotonous fashion, adopting a similar stance as the faceless troopers and fighting through another tell-tale wave of tremors that stifled her once-elegant movements. However, her activated chip appeared to be winning out, even as the artificer stepped over an incapacitated guard, closing the distance and leaving Adrian trapped between them.
In spite of this, the far larger man stopped short of the serpent, watching intently as her body fell prey to her latest case of psionic shock, which remained a thorn in the Initiative's side as it continued to augment the Viper genome. A sizable hand was then placed against a white cheek, repositioning a pointed muzzle so both men could bear witness to the persistent flickering in her eyes.
"Hmm...you remain full of surprises, 47." A fat finger brushed across the weakened inhibitors before repositioning itself onto a flowing beard, which appeared to complement Sprout's frosty undertones. "An honest shame, truly…" A polished head then looked over a broad shoulder, where an acquainted woman lay hidden within his shadow. "Dr. Carrington, prepare a syringe for the test subject. Perhaps she's deserving as much after subduing 88 for us."
After working mostly with sectoids and having suffered a torrent of verbal blows due to a helium-induced rage, the woman remained motionless, watching in insistent captivation as Sprout's tremors steadily worsened. However, the hardened response of her superior soon pulled her out of the act.
"Do as you're told, Dr. Carrington. Now."
"It would be my pleasure, Dr. Holdren," the woman hastily rattled off, moving toward the exposed medical provisions with lengthened strides.
"Good."
The artificer permitted his baritone voice to reverberate off the pale walls. He then regarded the nearest pair of troopers, who immediately holstered their weapons and then hoisted Eight over to her bed using both arms, letting her ebony tail limp across the ground while in transit. Once their task was completed, Dr. Holdren silently acknowledged the displaced corkboard before stationing himself in front of a black nightstand, grabbing hold of one of its drawings, and then tracing another finger around the creature's dark horns.
"Your test subject has developed quite the imagination since I last stepped foot inside this cell, Dr. Fairchild." Dr. Holdren made sure to avoid the blood stains marring one of the drawing's corners as he transferred it onto Eight's bed, noting the plastic table in the distance and then perusing through the others until he discovered what lay underneath. Amber eyes then shifted down to the cat plushie in Adrian's possession. "And it appears as though she's not the only one. So, would you care to reiterate to me why that is?"
"I…" Adrian paused to address both of his vipers, knowing that Sprout would be left to ride out her episode until the artificer's curiosity was sated. "I'm a senior caretaker, sir. And part of my research involves preparing all of them for the challenges ahead and in relation to the Mercur—"
"I'd advise against saying the name of their venture out loud, doctor," the artificer snapped, seizing the ebony viper's novel and then outlining its cover. "And while we've entertained your research thus far, I still fail to see how submersing your test subjects with the likes of dragons and hobbits will better prime them for what's to come."
Despite his nerves, Adrian couldn't help but frown at the slated accusation. "With all due respect, my methods may come across as unconventional, but without them, 47 would've never left her cell, at least not without relying solely on her chip to interact with the general public, which you and I both know isn't what they want."
"Don't assume a prerogative by speaking for them."
"I'm not, sir. I'm just stating that such methods have a proven track record." Adrian glanced over at Dr. Carrington, who continued her work on loading Sprout's syringe. He then noted his other viper. "As for 88, I was closing in on another scientific breakthrough until other parties got involved."
"Hmm…" The artificer followed the smaller doctor's eyes, tugging at his lengthy beard in thought. "And what if I told you that 'such methods' ultimately led to this?" The hand with Eight's book then motioned toward the incapacitated stun lancers. "What would you say to me then?"
"I'd say that you're wrong and that there are two sides to every story," Adrian fired back, holding his ground.
In response, Dr. Holdren's other hand left his chin, permitting the smallest of smiles to shine through, one that quickly merged with the overhead light and reflected back into a tawny set of eyes. Again, the artificer silently regarded the stuffed animal in Adrian's arms before tossing Eight's novel onto her bed and then looking directly at her caretaker.
"Indeed." The larger man then stretched out his hand, palm up and facing Adrian. "Now, hand it over to me."
In spite of his prior poise, Adrian's confidence sputtered, letting his concerns seep in as he pulled Marmalade's cat plushie against his chest. A terrifying thought then etched itself into his mind. "First, I'd like to know what you intend to do with Sir Hydelpaws."
"Hydelpaws?" A white brow slowly lifted.
"Uhm, yes." Adrian internally cursed his unfiltered word choice. "Such names have proven quite beneficial when it comes to Marmal—I mean, 320's underlining scorecard, which was found in my most recent report." He further responded with an awkward laugh." Though, as stated, she's also developed a bit of habit for them in the process."
Adrian felt another line of perspiration trickle down the backside of his neck. Thankfully, his superior offered a mirthful chuckle at his otherwise unintentional candor.
"A thoroughly-prepared report in all fairness, given present circumstances and—" Dr. Holdren abruptly paused, standing in a similar manner as his guards before blinking his apparent inattentiveness away. "Hmm...I see. Yes, very well, I'll be sure to handle him with care."
Adrian nodded his head, holding an air of uncertainty but meeting the other scientist halfway. However, he soon hesitated as a more pressing question suddenly flooded his mind, forcing his eyes back toward Eight, who was left to lay limp on top of her bed. "My other vipers, are they—"
"Back inside their respected cells, along with Dr. Loughty's newest test subject..." Overhead light once again caught the other man's eyes, giving off an almost predatory edge. "Who I'm told was also under your care prior to..." The amber gaze shifted to Dr. Carrington, "…this rather unfortunate misunderstanding."
Adrian couldn't help but hold his nervous expression. "I figured that I'd return the favor after being told to remain off my feet for a few days. Also, it's only in my nature to want to help."
Dr. Holdren's smile grew to match the man himself once he registered the senior caretaker's trailing remark. "And help you shall, Dr. Fairchild."
The hand then reached its fullest extent, seizing the cat plushie by its scruff before lifting it high into the air. From there, the chief scientist directed his eyes back to his female counterpart, who'd since returned to his shadow with a readied syringe, which was transferred into his possession after final acknowledgment.
"Thank you, Dr. Carrington. Now, if you'd be so kind as to return this...cat to Dr. Fairchild's office on your way out. I'd rather it stay there while I see him in mine."
Dr. Carrington glowered at the notion before immediately catching herself. "But what of my research, artificer? After I sought you out in your office, you said that I'd be granted full permission to continue with what we—"
"I've since changed my mind, Dr. Carrington." Marmalade's cat plushie was unceremoniously dropped into the woman's arms. "And you'd be wise to listen to their words before taking matters into your own hands. So, return to your duties, otherwise, I'll be sure that they hear of your latest blunder."
While Dr. Carrington's face paled, the scientist managed to keep herself together as she responded to the open threat with a quick bow. "I'd ask that you'd forgive my misstep, artificer, and will do so at once."
"Hmm…we'll speak more on this later. Now, leave us so that I may speak with Dr. Fairchild in private."
With that, Dr. Holdren stepped aside, granting Dr. Carrington a path to Adrian's office by signaling to the closest section of guards, which parted and then closed again after the woman cautiously walked past. Afterwards, both men's attention drifted back to Sprout, whose tremors had since reached their peak, widening the river of blood as it began to flow from multiple cavities. Had she been out on her own patrolling the streets, a slow and painful death would surely follow.
"It would appear that we still have a mountain to climb," Dr. Holdren stated as he plunged the syringe's needle straight into the afflicted viper, watching closely as Sprout collapsed under the weight of her demons, coiling aimlessly across the ground while the serum began to take effect. "Wouldn't you agree, Dr. Fairchild?"
Adrian released a breath of air, doing his best to keep his eyes locked on the uncomfortable scene. "It does appear that way, artificer. Though, I remain hopeful that their goals will be met in due time."
"As do I, Dr. Fairchild, as do I."
His superior pivoted on his feet, stepping over Sprout and adding an almost foreign weight to his strides as lumbered toward the exit. "Now come, the Triad intends to revisit matters in relation to their chosen later this week, and I want a full outline briefing before said audience occurs, especially in light of more recent events."
Adrian bobbed his head in silence. Although, before enacting to follow the other scientist, he registered Sprout's diminishing tremors, daring to stoop down in an effort to lay the unconscious thespian alongside her ebony sister.
"Leave your test subject, Dr. Fairchild," his superior bellowed. Adrian felt an amber set of eyes turn his way, dialing in on his next response. "My personal guard will return 47 to her cell once the antidote has run its course. As stated, we've much to discuss, and I'm unwilling to let our dear, Miss Amaryllis have her way until I've sat you down in my office."
"Amaryllis?" Adrian repeated, unable to conceal the shock in his voice. "I thought that…but she told me that..."
Dr. Holdren's tawny gaze returned, cutting through a noticeable darkness, which yawned down from the innermost corners of the cell. "It would appear that Advent's songbird has once again come to roost within its heart, wasting no time in demanding that you be allowed to see her in person."
Adrian's eyes expanded, sending the man into an almost uncontrollable flutter. "I—What? Wait, I mean…when?"
The artificer laughed at the smaller doctor's frantic display, which soon morphed into hopeful anticipation. "After our meeting in my office." He then turned away, making it to the cell's threshold while two columns of heavily-armed troopers fell in line behind him. "Even still, she's proven rather cantankerous since her return from the coastal territories, and I'd rather not keep her waiting for much longer. So, gather your things and then meet me in my office."
Adrian slowly nodded, acknowledging his unconscious vipers one final time before an armored glove fell upon his shoulder, obscuring his vision of them as it forced him to fall in step with the rest of the troops.
[—]
A light patter of rain broke Adrian from his latest anxiety-driven trance, brought about by another wave of events that he'd yet to fully rationalize. After all, despite having left Dr. Holdren's office with his superior largely satisfied and of his own free will, up until now, he felt as though he was caught inside someone else's dream. An endless maze, which had since morphed itself into a jagged skyline, ripe with neon lights and towering shadows that made him almost wish that he would've never entertained the idea of crossing an ocean to New Providence. Of course, the autumn rains had yet to let up, leaving him out of sorts in the face of thriving exhaustion.
"It'll be just another block."
Adrian frowned at the voice, which forced his attention back inside an armored limousine, whose smell carried an unusual mix of factory finish, cigarette smoke, and homemade dough. "You said that about ten minutes ago, and yet we appear to be nowhere near this supposed meeting spot. In fact, I'd say that we're going in complete circles. Are you sure that you know where you're—"
"Have a little faith, Docteur Fairchild," his driver chirped, readjusting a rearview mirror before granting Adrian another glimpse at a black comb-over and pencil mustache. Unsurprisingly, his superiors were quick to replace the old one, considering it was rather difficult to recover from complete decapitation. "I know this city like the back of my hand, and Advent wouldn't have hired me otherwise."
"Sure, if you say so…"
Naturally, Dr. Holdren had enacted to leave out most of the details, except for what he was allowed to bring, which amounted to his civilian clothes and well…a few special items. Regardless, the man sighed, accepting his fate inside the forward compartment of the modified vehicle, leaving its other occupant stowed away until their eventual arrival.
The caretaker grumbled once more before diverting his eyes outside, catching the end of the dark cloud responsible for coating an umbrella-filled street in a reflective glaze. And while outside conditions appeared to be clearing up, the building tempest at home seemed a far cry from the past. Because despite leaving Sprout and Eight behind, their respective situations had only brought more questions than answers, especially pertaining to what kind of relationship they ultimately sought out of him.
Adrian shivered at the thought, not knowing how he would tackle the situation once he returned from his trip, which he hoped would reconnect him with his wife. Again, his mind compelled him to fiddle with the platinum band fastened tightly around his finger, holding onto the idea that such welcomed familiarity would resolve all of his issues. After all, it had been a couple of weeks, and he'd come to miss her dearly. Thankfully, such anxiety quickly retreated as the armored vehicle took one final turn and then pulled to the curbside, drawing his gaze back toward its rather peculiar driver.
"It's as I said, les doigts dans la nez!"
"Excuse me?" Adrian replied, doing little to mask his outright confusion, which was only made worse as the other man snuffed out his cigarette on a padded seat cover and then rewarded him with a toothy grin.
"You are excused, docteur," the driver answered as he unlocked the doors, placing a steady hand on its thick handle and then looking back at his passenger. "Now, allow me to step outside and assist you and your—"
"Wait!" Adrian wasted no time in raising a hand in distress, realizing just what would happen if his driver got his wish. "Uhm, listen…" He paused upon also registering that he'd already forgotten his driver's name.
"Alexandre Dumas," the other man declared in spite of the fact, making sure to reiterate the countless sheets of white pinned across the vehicle's dashboard, ones he claimed were highly regarded and of his own machination. Though, Adrian was somewhat skeptical, considering they were more or less uncrumpled balls of paper. "Same as the novelist, playwright, and romanticist. Regardless, as I said before, you may call me Andre if you'd like."
"Andre? Right, that still doesn't make any..." Adrian placed a hand against the backside of his neck. "Never mind. Listen, Andre, please don't take offense to this, but in this specific case, I think it's best if you stay inside the limousine while I take care of the rest."
Unsurprisingly, his response was met with a tempered scowl. "But I do take offense and am not one to besmirch the name of French hos-pit-al-ity."
"Well, you see, that's just it." Adrian's gaze turned to the Advent logo stitched into a neighboring seat's upholstery. "I'm not sure if you've been briefed on the matter, but I have this particular issue surrounding—"
"You wound me, Docteur Fairchild." Alexandre took his hand off the door handle, using it to pull an identification card from his wallet, which was quickly waved against the limo's crosshatched partition. "While I may have come to this land as a foreigner, I'm a fully registered citizen; same as you. Also, I'm proud of my heritage and will not stand for such a blatant attack on my—"
"What? No, Andre, this has less to do with me and more to do with my—"
"Traveling companion?" Andre finished as his smile returned. "You must understand, docteur. I've lived in this city even before the start of Unification. Since then, I've never failed to change the heart of even the most stubborn of passengers." Again, the Frenchman's hand went for his door. "It would be a pleasure to offer the mademoiselle a hand as she vacated her seat."
"Even if that mademoiselle ended up being a thirty-foot-long viper?" Adrian fired back, hoping in desperation that the other man counted himself amongst the ophidiophobics of the world. Unfortunately, while Andre initially hesitated, appearing to give the question some thought, Adrian's attempt was foiled as his driver's smile widened and he shrugged his shoulders in ignorant acceptance.
"Qui ne risque rien n'a rien—"
"I'm sorry?"
"Nothing ventured, nothing gained, docteur." Andre propped open his door, swinging his feet out onto a neon-soaked roadway. "I'll take my chances with the proud mademoiselle."
However, before the Frenchman fully ventured out into the autumn air, his passenger raised his voice in an attempt to reel him back in.
"It's Adrian, and I'd rather you didn't, at least not yet." The caretaker looked down at a leather knapsack stationed along his side, noting a pair of matching cat plushies fit snuggly within its side pockets. "To be frank, she has a…storied history with your country, and a rather painful one at that." His gaze soon met that of the chauffeur. "Being starved and left for dead in an unmarked alleyway tends to color one's opinion of those responsible, especially if such experiences are all you hold onto in terms of the home you left behind."
Upon registering his passenger's final remark, Alexandre's cheerful features turned solemn.
"I...understand."
The Frenchman slammed his door and made for a pack of cigarettes buried in the center console, igniting one of them in quick succession with a silver lighter decorated in a meandering silhouette. He then carefully detached one of the poems littering the vehicle's dashboard, passing it along through the partition using two fingers.
"All too well, in fact." Andre released a large puff of smoke as he sighed in shallow acceptance. "So, I'd ask that you send the mademoiselle my regards."
"I…thank you." Adrian took possession of the piece of paper and then slipped it into his pocket. With their transfer complete, he again regarded his driver. "What do you intend to do while we're gone?"
Andre laughed at the question, releasing another cloud of smoke with a show of teeth. "I'll remain in the limousine as instructed and until your return." He then patted the vehicle's glove compartment. "Don't worry, I have ways of entertaining myself should things go long."
Adrian nodded, taking final stock of his belongings, heaving open his passenger door, and then slowly maneuvering himself out into the street.
"Oh, and Adrian," Andre called out after lowering the driver's side window, whose bulletproof design only allowed for a three-inch gap. Even still, a trail of smoke vented through, mixing with the damp air. "Be sure to keep your wits about you. You're no longer in the heart of the Initiative, and there are those who would very much like your journey to end here."
Despite the cautionary tale, Adrian remained silent, suppressing the notion in favor of maneuvering himself to the limousine's rear compartment. From there, he disengaged its lock, causing a heavy door to swing outwards. After a short delay, a pair of red suns battled their way through the darkness, followed closely by a scarred muzzle that pushed itself toward the heavens. As for its viperine owner, she now wore her Advent battle cuirass, complete with golden bracers and a segmented helmet, which traveled the entire backside of her winding neck. A standard-issue beam rifle also lay captured within her black claws.
To the unacclimated, the viper's continued ascent into the street would likely spark nothing but fear and uncertainty. However, her caretaker quickly adopted her smile as he acknowledged the shiny medal hanging against her padded breastplate, holding out his hand and assisting her to the safety of the curb.
"How was the ride, matriarch?"
The yellow viper's smile slightly diminished. "Was bumpy, smell like funny toast, and small like doctor." Adrian couldn't help but chuckle, offering her a consoling pat on the arm before adjusting one of her bracers and polishing it with his breath. Once finished, the man looked back up.
"I'm sorry, Marmal." Adrian's eyes wandered back to the vehicle, finding relief as its window slowly rolled up, leaving its remaining occupant out of Marmalade's view. "I'll be sure to let our chauffeur know."
"Chaffer?" The viper replied out of immediate confusion. "Small doctor say funny word. What mean?"
"Oh. Uhm, well...a chauffeur is a special kind of driver, who was hired on by Advent and also responsible for our wellbeing and general safety."
Marmalade frowned at his definition, directing her red eyes toward the tinted window. "Then is bad chaffer." The edges of her muzzle then lifted, compelling the honorable cat matriarch to slither forward. "Will tell so become good chaffer." However, before the yellow viper could proceed further, a small doctor placed himself in her path.
"There's no need, Marmal. I'll be sure to have a word with him before we depart back towards home." Adrian made sure to lift up his knapsack so that Marmalade could better recognize her prized stuffed animals. "Besides, Clarence and Edwina are safe and sound, so don't worry your tail off over the matter."
Thankfully, Marmalade's attention returned to him; however, the tip of her tail soon shot up in alarm.
"Is true?"
"Is what true?" Adrian quickly adopted her concerned expression.
"Uh..." The viper trailed off as she adjusted her stance so that the article in question could be placed in front of her caretaker. "If worry, tail go away?"
"Huh, I don't—Oh!" Again, Adrian regarded the viper with a reassuring pat on the arm. "It's just an expression, Marmalade. Trust me, that yellow tail of yours isn't going away anytime soon." However, the man couldn't help but laugh at her prolonged reaction. "Well, at least as long as you remain on your very best behavior."
The serpent's frown returned. "But am bestest cat matriarch, so small doctor stuck with whether think or not."
Marmalade's declaration earned her another warm grin. "Believe me, matriarch, you've already won me over in that regard."
"Goods." The viper's red suns shifted down to the larger of the two cat plushies. "Tingly whiskers but goods for now." Her tail responded with a happy wiggle, but it's tip soon fell in sequence with a forked tongue as another wave of concern coursed through her long body. "Has sick bag for Edwina? Member—is strong female but weak stomach; might need on return because bad chaffer," she finished, letting her tongue hang out in annoyance.
"Of course." Adrian unlatched the knapsack's main compartment, revealing a stretch of fabric dotted with felines and flowers. He then stepped back to allow the serpent to lower herself and acknowledge the plastic bags that lay tucked inside a side pocket. "I'd be remiss if we were to leave home without being well stocked for such an occasion."
"Like bestest caretaker."
"Like—" Adrian stopped, taking note of the viper's purposeful word choice and wide smile, which continued as she readjusted herself to full height, leaving the man level with the underside of her breastplate. "Yeah, like bestest caretaker."
With that, the caretaker sealed up his knapsack, directing his gaze back toward its occupants and then to the improvised pouch hanging on Marmalade's armor. "Would you like to carry either of them while we meet with Adeline?"
Marmalade shook her head. "Am okay." Her smile broadened even further. "Trust small doctor and flower lady with cats."
Adrian matched her expression, carefully slinging the bag around his shoulder. "Thanks, Marmal, I'll be sure to treat them as my own."
Satisfied, the man shifted his attention across the street, realizing rather quickly that what lay in front of them looked nothing like the description provided to him in the briefing. In fact, a single, four-story building sat shielded beneath a rainy overpass, which despite guarding its occupants from the elements, failed to obscure its darkened presence over an emptied street. Adrian noted the time on his watch and then glanced back at the black limousine, determining if it was worthwhile to question its driver further. However, a conflicting thought soon won out as he found a faded light emanating from a second-story window, lifting his eyes to then address a pair of setting suns.
"While I'm still uncertain that this is the place, I see no reason why Advent would lead us astray."
"Is funny place," Marmalade agreed, lightly batting at the shiny medal around her neck. He then felt a thick tail station itself against his leg as she motioned to the large rifle in her hands. "But is okay. Have matriarch, who will protect with beamy, shooty thingy."
Again, Adrian chuckled at her unique word choice, taking his eyes off her medal and offering his hand, which Marmalade accepted without question. With giant serpent in tow, the caretaker then turned his attention to the building across the street, finding its lone light and suppressing a foreign tune, which continued to thread its way into his subconsciousness.
"I appreciate the gesture, Marmal, and I'm hopeful that we're heading in the right direction." He felt his feet carry him, leaving the safety of the curb alongside a yellow tail. "Regardless, it means the world to me that you're here, and such sentiments have come to roost for the long-term."
[—]
Closing Notes:
Another look into the past with new and returning characters. Still a lot to be revealed behind the curtain, but the final painting is slowly taking shape. Thanks again for the patience and support, and I'm always looking for constructive feedback!