Author's Note: Sorry this took a while, everybody.
Real life has been kicking my ass, quite handily.
But I shall prevail and get back to writing soon. Enjoy this bit, I had fun with various parts of it.
Chapter 14:
In Love and War
Sage smiled despite himself as he walked on, leaving his meister and, apparently, her new boyfriend, to talk. It was no secret amongst everyone in their friend group that Gray Star and Specter had feelings for each other. But he lived with Gray Star, fought alongside her, accompanied her almost everywhere she went; he knew better than anyone what her being in love with someone truly meant.
He saw it in the way she looked at him when no one else was looking, felt it in the way her heart rate accelerated when he walked by, sensed it in the way her soul gravitated towards his.
Their connection was something special, something uniquely theirs, and Sage recognized that.
As her weapon partner, it was Sage's duty to protect Gray Star. Even from Specter, if it came down to it. But as her friend, it was not his place to intrude on her personal matters, especially not matters of the heart.
That was something she could handle on her own.
To that end, he stopped, turned, and gave her a nod, his way of silently telling her that he would meet her back at their apartment. She nodded back, and gave him a smile that said "thank you". Effectively relieved of his duties, Sage began his long trek down the dark cobblestone streets of Death City, the wrought iron lamps on the corners brightening his path with their harsh yellow light as he made his way home.
The day began with a drawing of battle lines, he mused, yet it ends with a declaration of love.
A chuckle escaped his lips as he looked up at the pitch-black sky, the moon unable to break through the cloud cover that still lingered over the city.
There's an irony here…but not an unwelcome one.
When Maka opened her eyes again, she was drifting down through a sea of swirling crimson. She gasped instinctively, thinking for a moment that she was sinking and drowning, but the sudden breath she took in proved to be a breath of air rather than water. Now curious, but still a little wary of her new surroundings, she put her hand out and probed at the undulating red mass around her.
The moment her hand passed through a piece of it, she understood.
"Oh. They're clouds," she said absent-mindedly, watching as the blood-colored mist curled around her fingers.
Looking down, she began to see what appeared to be black spears or needles piercing through the clouds below her. These too, were not what they seemed, proving to be the tops of trees. She made sure to keep an eye on them as she descended, half-expecting them to come to life and try to eat her.
In another person's soul, anything was possible, she reasoned.
Eventually, she broke through the cloud cover, and found herself above an endless forest of black trees set in a valley surrounded by dark mountains and set below the sky of crimson clouds she had passed through on her way down. The trees were of varying heights, and took up a majority of the space, making it hard to tell where anyone was, much less where she should be going. That was when she saw it.
Nestled on the far side of the realm against an onyx mountainside sat a castle, a ruined, dark, and lonesome castle. It was a fortress, heavily reinforced and protected on all sides. An engine of war.
Even from so far away, she could tell it was similar in design to the castle Mosquito had described his past self living in, everything from the crooked towers to the black stone walls visible from her position in the sky. A part of her wished she had Azusa-san's ability to see long distances. While she didn't need a map of the castle, having one would have been useful, especially since she had a feeling which of Mosquito's many fractured soul fragments lived in that castle.
She made to confirm her suspicions with her soul perception, but was interrupted by her heart suddenly leaping into her throat, her stomach forcing the air out of her lungs as a sharp exhale. Looking down, she realized that she was no longer drifting down gently toward the surface of this new realm, the interior of Mosquito's soul. She was falling toward it, and fast.
"Oh, shit!" she cried, instinctively looking for a branch or something to grab.
Suddenly surrounded by tree trunks on all sides, she tried desperately to come up with a way to save herself. There was no chance the thin branches around her would be able to withstand her weight and momentum, and her speed made it difficult to grab onto a trunk and come to a stop. Panic began to set in, her eyes darting about frantically.
It was only when she saw the forest floor rising up to meet her that she remembered where she was, and what the shape of her soul allowed her to do when she was traversing someone else's soul.
A derisive scoff escaped her lips as she unconsciously rolled her eyes at her own stupidity. "Fuck, I'm dumb."
With a cry of effort, she let her soul pour out of her body, manifesting two wisps of bright blue light that shaped themselves into a pair of jagged, alien wings. Spreading them out and making them level, she went from falling to gliding, narrowly dodging the trees in front of her as she tried to find a clearing. Finding none, she chose a spot between two trees and hoped for the best, lamenting the fact that she couldn't use Soul to fly, like she was used to.
She muttered a few curses under her breath as she crashed to the ground at a sharp angle, tumbling through the sodden earth and black grass before finally smashing into a large pine tree that knocked the wind out of her.
"Oh, ow…" she said, blindly trying to massage her back as she lay there, sprawled out and in pain.
Her wings folded back into her soul as she stood up and shook her head, suddenly alone and stranded in the middle of a black forest. Or at least, she would be stranded, if she didn't have soul perception. She took a minute to dust herself off and get the chunks of wet dirt off her clothes before focusing and letting her soul expand her vision.
Very quickly, she identified six very powerful soul signatures in the world around her, one that was close by, two that were wandering the forest in front of her, and three that were close together a great distance away from her. Based on what she had seen on her way in, she could only assume that the three souls furthest from her were in or around the castle, and she knew just at a glance that they were individually more powerful than the other three souls combined. The closest soul was one she recognized.
She silently wondered if the aspects of Mosquito's soul would be young and childish, like Crona's had been, but ultimately dismissed that idea. The vampire had gone out of his way to warn her. Some of his forms were probably benign, but the others were monsters through and through.
All of them, she realized, were monsters in some form or another.
"Alright," she said with a hiss of pain. "Let's get this over with…"
With that, she turned and began walking toward what she assumed to be Castle Stoker, and the powerful souls that lay within. At first, there was no path, and the terrain was rough, with gnarled tree roots, jagged black stones, and broken trees blocking the way forward. Thankfully, her Grigori Soul's wings enabled her to circumvent these obstacles rather easily, and before long, she found a clearing with a winding dirt path that she reasoned could only lead to the castle.
She immediately began the long walk down that road, the gravel crunching under her feet at a steady but rapid pace. There was no time to lose, if her experience with Crona had taught her anything. Souls and their secrets waited for no one.
Thankfully, there was no battle going on outside the soul space, otherwise, she'd have been sprinting.
After a few minutes of trotting down the path, she sensed a presence in front of her. She didn't stop. It was someone she knew, someone she had encountered on Lost Island many years back.
Mosquito, the first one she had met.
He had the same tall, wide-brimmed black hat, the same silver mustache, the same wine red eyes and pointed nose. She had forgotten how short he really was. Or was it that she had gotten taller?
As she approached, he took off his hat and bowed deeply.
"Mrs. Evans," he said, polite as ever, "It is a pleasure to see you again."
She chuckled. "I'm still not used to seeing you alive. But at least you got my name right this time."
"But of course. My predecessor learned it, therefore, I learned it." He turned and gestured down the dirt road, and to the castle, which was just barely visible in the distance. "The others are expecting you. Shall we go?"
"We shall," Maka said pointedly. "But don't try to pull anything," she added with a threatening point of her finger." I can see everything in the forest. I know where your other fragments are hiding."
He grinned. "I expected as much. However, you'll find that some of my other selves are…less well mannered than I am." The humor drained from his face. "The Dragon, in particular, is quite vicious. I advise you to be cautious, young one."
That's what the Mosquito in the Death Room said, too, Maka thought to herself. Hopefully it's all talk…
She let him take the lead. In the worst case scenario, she could use him as a shield. Or a bargaining chip.
It wasn't late. For her, it was early. But she was tired, if only mentally, and her body was begging for rest.
Kid lay on her bed, the alarm clock she never used telling her that it was close to seven. The crimson numbers were the only source of light in her room; the moon's light was blocked by the clouds, her curtains were closed, and all her electronics were off. She glanced in the vague direction of her phone, which she hadn't bothered to turn back on and had shoved haphazardly into her nightstand, then looked back up at the ceiling.
It was still there. Despite her world spinning out of control and her life effectively being over, the ceiling was still there. She had a roof over her head. Four walls. A structure, stability.
This was not some grand revelation or even a minor comfort, but…it was a start.
She let out a sigh through her nose, turned over and pulled her covers close, her hair spilling over her face and onto the surface of her bed like a million jet black snakes. Sleep wasn't an option; though exhausted, her mind wouldn't let her relax. The day's events kept replaying in her head, every missed attack, every jackass comment, every look of shock, concern, every defeat.
Her father's words just wouldn't leave her alone.
"You invoked the power of a forbidden shinigami art, Angel."
"You lost control, and I…I had to…suppress you."
"...you are hereby placed on disciplinary suspension."
She twisted and turned in her bed, jamming her palms into her forehead, her fingers curling as she grit her teeth and brought her knees to her chest.
It wasn't the punishment that hurt. And it wasn't the fact that her father had humiliated her in front of the whole school that made her want to disappear. No, it was the fact that, despite everything she had done, despite her being a shinigami, despite her power, strength, speed, mental fortitude and legendary skill, that she had lost control of herself and her life in one day.
One fucking day.
"Fuck."
She whispered the word softly to herself, as if someone was there in the room listening and she didn't want to startle them.
Her pent up anger, frustration, and sadness twisted together in her stomach and made her want to cry, but she was too tired to cry, so she just writhed there on the bed.
When she opened her eyes again, the ceiling was still there, but it was of little comfort to her now. She felt like she was on death row, and that she was constantly being reminded that her prison was still standing. Sure, it was nice to know that the ground beneath her wasn't opening up to swallow her whole, but she was still trapped, still doomed.
She had managed to go from carefree and having fun with her friends to knee deep in shit and exiled from her own academy in just a few days.
It was a hell of a transition.
Despite not wanting to think, Kid's mind opened up to a place that hadn't seen the light of day in a long time. To a memory, one not forgotten but never talked about. It wasn't a good memory.
The last time she had been in this much trouble, she was just a kid. Daddy's little angel, normally a sunny, happy girl with bright eyes and a little bit of a silly streak, suddenly had blood on her hands. Images flashed through her mind.
Twisted limbs.
Torn muscle.
Crimson everywhere.
When the dust had settled, the adults had been mortified. She had done it to protect the twins, she told them. They were being bullied, and no one bullied her friends. Daddy hunted monsters that were bullies, too, she had said. What she had done was right.
It hurt to remember how justified she felt in that moment, even though she had lost control and used her full strength on someone who was, to her, the equivalent of a mewling kitten. At six years old, she had almost killed someone four years her senior and a head taller than her. Of course, asking a six-year-old to have restraint when they had the powers of a god was a tall order, but that didn't matter when her opponent was only human.
Correction: a human boy who had, somehow, unwittingly picked a fight with a god.
Even as she lay in bed, her eyes glued to the white stucco of her shitty Death City apartment ceiling, she didn't feel any guilt for what she had done. She'd do it again for her friends in a heartbeat. But the idea of losing control like she had back then…like she had in her fight against Gray Star…that scared her shitless.
It was then that something struck her, and she forgot about herself and her drama for a moment.
Suddenly worried about something, she twisted over and reached out for her nightstand, finding the handle on the top drawer and yanking it hard. In her haste, she almost pulled the drawer out entirely, but she didn't. Grabbing her phone, she held down the power button and waited an eternity for it to turn on.
When it did finally light up, she opened it and, ignoring all the IMs and DMs and notifications, went to her message app and debated who she should send the text to. Allie wasn't an option, and neither was Gray Star, for obvious reasons. She knew everyone else in the group wasn't willing to give her the time of day…everyone except Specter.
Specter, for whatever reason, was the most accommodating of her friends, and probably the only one who could understand where she was coming from.
She hastily typed out her request, knowing that it sounded dumb but also knowing that she had to, then shut off her phone and pitched it into her closet, not wanting to look at it anymore. Of course, she knew she'd have to look at it in the morning, as the Academy would be sending her an email telling her if she could come to class the next day or not. But she already knew she wasn't going back.
No way in hell.
As Maka followed the oldest incarnation of Mosquito down that winding forest path, she wondered why they weren't rushing. Time wasn't necessarily of the essence; the world was not on the brink of ending. But surely, a light jog toward the castle was better than walking.
Apparently, the small, old Mosquito didn't think so.
"We shall arrive in due time," he had said.
Shrugging, Maka followed, being sure to keep an eye on the treelines on either side, and the road behind. The other two soul fragments she had seen in the black forest were still out there, and from what she sensed, she knew they were hungry for blood. Her blood.
The malice in their souls was similar to what she'd felt the first time she'd encountered Mosquito, back on Lost Island. She remembered the shock she'd felt when they'd seen him transform, and how brutal his attacks were. It had taken her, Black Star, and Kid's combined might to bring him down back then, and now, she was dealing with every aspect of Mosquito's power on her own.
It wasn't a comforting thought, but at the very least, she knew her soul was strong. Perhaps not in the way Black Star or Kid's were, but strong nonetheless. In the soul domains of others, she was practically a soul goddess.
She frowned at the idea, and quirked up an eyebrow. Soul goddess…has a nice ring to it.
Suddenly, she sensed the arrival of something, something powerful. It made her stop her in her tracks, her work shoes digging into the gravel under her feet as she looked immediately to her right. That same malice was there, lurking in the shadows of the trees, the malice she had felt all those years ago.
It was him.
"RrrrrrrraaaaaAAAAAAAARRRGGGHHH!"
With a shout, the Mosquito she had fought on Lost Island shot out of the trees, one of his massive arms gripping the dirt for leverage as the other aimed to smash into her with the force of an oncoming car. Maka, seeing it coming, spun to the side and redirected the punch with her hands, pushing the attack past her and causing his fist to slam into the earth. He retaliated instantly, twirling his body into a tornado of rippling muscle and impending pain.
She dodged his fists as they careened past her, darting and ducking out of the way. The shorter, more tired looking Mosquito just watched on, seemingly unwilling or unable to intervene. Maka grit her teeth and waited for an opportunity to counterattack, but it never came. Though she was somehow fast enough to keep dodging his strikes, there was no room to hit him back.
Besides, she realized with a grimace, any attacks she did land would probably do little damage.
Another punch came rocketing toward her, and she artfully jumped and sprang off of his forearm, slamming her feet into the top of his hilariously disproportionate head before hopping off. Though the attack did no damage, it did push him off balance, forcing him to catch himself with his other hand, his enormous fingers digging into the gravel of the path. Maka landed opposite him as he stayed there, doing a one-handed handstand, blocking the road and her visual of the castle in the distance.
"Good to see you, runt!" the big-arm Mosquito said with a sinister grin.
"Wish I could say the same to you, Steroids," Maka shot back.
He let out a boisterous laugh. "I've been waiting a long time to get back at you and your little friends for doing me that dishonor back on Lost Island. Now I've got my chance!"
Maka was about to retort when she sensed another presence, this one faster, and more powerful than the arm-walker that was before her.
"Hello, scythemeister," it said, its voice hollow and dark. "I don't believe we've met…"
Her eyes moved sharply to the right, where she found a Mosquito that she did not recognize, this one more insect-like in its physicality, with long, angular limbs, a massive stinger for a nose, and demonic white eyes. Before she could react, it spun and kicked her into the treeline, her speed fast enough to make the trunk she hit crack from the impact. Or was that her spine?
Blood shot out of her mouth as she collided with the tree, but before the speedier Mosquito could run her through with his stinger, Maka took off, her Grigori Soul spiriting her away on wings of blue light that looked out of place in a world colored only with crimson and shadow. She and this new Mosquito bounced between the trees on the left side of the path like they were in a pinball machine, missing each other by micrometers as they flew at breakneck speed through the forest.
She went left and bounced off of a tree trunk, while he went right, hooking his gangly arm onto another tree and using it as a launching point, his stinger aimed at her heart. But he missed, latching onto another tree as he looked to continue his assault. The chase lasted only a minute or two, but it was harrowing and almost resulted in Maka getting skewered by the monster that was this apparently more ancient version of Mosquito.
Eventually, her pursuer caught up with her, his stinger dangerously close to piercing her back.
"Damn it, leave me alone," Maka said through gritted teeth, twisting into a spiral and kicking her opponent in the face.
This knocked him off course, causing him to hit a tree that she was already moving past. She quickly righted herself and surged back out of the forest and onto the path, where the big arm Mosquito was waiting, fists at the ready. The other Mosquito was also right on her tail, having recovered from his crash and hellbound on skewering her once and for all. She should have been afraid, but she knew that she would be fine.
Just gotta time it right…
With a roar, the Mosquito with the big nose shot out of the forest, his speed stripping the trees of their leaves, needles, and bark. His "successor" threw a punch at the exact same time, his fist careening toward Maka like a freight train of muscle and bone, the sheer size of his hand ensuring that if his attack landed, it would be devastating. Of course, Maka wasn't about to let that happen.
Now!
In a flash, her wings came together and blasted her out from between the speedster and the powerhouse just in the nick of time, the former stabbing the latter in the shoulder with his oversized nose while the latter almost crushed the torso of the former with his massive knuckles. The two Mosquitoes let out simultaneous cries of pain as Maka artfully flipped and landed back on the path, unharmed save for the damage done to her spine by that first tree. Panting, but ready to go another round, she began to gently hover off the ground, her wings growing wider and more wild in shape as she let her soul's power flow out of her.
She was just about to take off and begin her counterattack when she heard a voice.
"Stop this, now!" the small Mosquito shouted, causing her and even his other versions to freeze.
He trotted up beside her, eyeing his counterparts warily.
"Killing her won't accomplish anything," he said as he folded his arms.
"No, it won't," Big Arms said. "But I want to do it anyway!"
Needlenose nodded in agreement. "We owe ourselves a debt of vengeance."
"I feel your pain," Mosquito Classic admitted, causing Maka to raise an eyebrow, "But it is impossible. The count has granted her amnesty."
The two other Mosquitoes immediately deflated, the tension in their bodies finally relaxing. Maka, still keeping a sharp eye on them, also stood down, coming back down to the ground and letting her wings fade. Mosquito Classic let out a sigh.
"You are not to lay a finger on her, understand? She is to meet with the count and our other predecessors to discuss terms."
"Does that include the dragon?" Maka asked, remembering what the Mosquito who was currently in the Death Room had told her.
He nodded. "Indeed. He will be there as well." His eyes narrowed as he looked up at her. "Tread lightly, young one. The count may control the dragon, but it acts of its own free will. If it sees you as a threat, you will be expunged, and that will be the end of any discussion."
Not to be deterred, Maka nodded in resolution. "Got it."
The day had been cloudy and cold, and nights in Death City were colder than the days, which made the breeze that drifted past Specter and Gray Star an icy one, to say the least. Specter had instinctually offered his jacket despite actually feeling a little chilly himself, but she had refused. He had forgotten how conditioned she was, and how she could probably withstand a blizzard in nothing but beach clothes.
She was a badass.
It was still a wonder to him that she was even giving him a chance. For some reason, he had always assumed Gray Star to be out of his personal league, one meant for the kind of people that were destined to coast through life and not do anything fantastic. A Specter League.
Yet, the literal daughter of a warrior god, despite being intrinsically popular enough to reasonably get whatever or whoever she wanted, saw him not only as a friend…but as something more?
He frowned as the phrase turned to a question in his mind. How could he be uncertain? She was giving him all the right signals.
Hand holding? Check.
Double hand hold? Check.
Letting him walk her home? Check.
Everything seemed to be in order. He just needed confirmation. Because the last thing he needed was to assume that he and Gray Star were a thing, only to find out that they in fact were not a thing, thereby making any advances made by him a bad move.
And making bad moves was not cool.
"So…" he began, not certain where to go from there. When she looked at him, he swallowed and pressed ahead despite not having a battle plan. "We, uh…are we a thing now?"
To his eternal relief, Gray Star let out a little laugh.
She twirled a strand of her silver hair and smiled. "I think I'm willing to be a thing with you."
"Cool," he said, returning her smile with one of his own. "Very cool."
Then something struck him, and he frowned. He needed more confirmation. Because…well, he didn't know why, but he still needed it. Maybe it was a lack of confidence, but it was closer to a desire to not be overconfident. Because overconfidence was not his bag.
"So…boyfriend and girlfriend?" he prodded. "Or are we not that official?"
She thought about it for a moment, then simply said, "Yeah. Boyfriend and girlfriend."
Sweet relief. "Nice."
"But we don't have to announce it to anyone," she said quietly, nervously twirling a wayward strand of her hair.
"Keepin' it low key, huh?"
"Yeah."
He smiled. "That's an idea I can get behind."
For a few minutes, they didn't say anything more. Nothing needed to be said. Their relationship had advanced, and as a result, the world had changed. The night was somehow more vibrant, the air clearer, the wind a little less cold. Every time they looked at each other, sparks flew from their souls, their fingers tingling, their stomachs fluttering.
It was a nice feeling, finally closing a chapter and opening a new one. A sense of finality, but also a new energy of possibility and promise, flooded through them. Friendship blossoming into something like affection and romance was a new and welcome thing for both of them.
They both wanted to do something more, to keep the emotional high going, and Specter wanted to make some kind of move, but before he could, he felt his phone buzz in his pocket.
Damn it.
"What is it now?" he muttered, suddenly frustrated.
He half expected to see a text from his mother asking him to pick up eggs and bring them to the old house. She did that quite often, because between him and his sister, he was the more responsible one. But the text he received wasn't from his mother.
It was from Kid, and it was long, and quickly followed by a few smaller texts.
His eyes narrowed as he read through it all, not knowing what to expect. When he did read it, though, he sighed through his nose, at once relieved and concerned. Gray Star shot him a curious look in response. Maybe it was because she could sense his discomfort with her superior senses, or perhaps she was good at reading faces. Regardless, Specter knew he had to show her what he had just received, despite what it said.
So he shot a quick reply, then handed over his phone.
The texts read as such:
"hey Spec, listen. i know i fcked up, but i need you to do me a solid and keep an eye on the twins. you know why. evrybody hates me and i jst feel like someones gonna do something stupid. i cant help them, i got my ass on discplnary suspension. i literally CAN'T be there. and if they get bullied by some uppr class douchbags, ill get expelled avenging them
pretty please with fuckin sugar on top
hate me later
save the twins
DONT fuckn tell GraY I said ANY Of this or ill fuckn KILL YOU
l8r"
Underneath was Specter's reply, a simple "K" .
Gray Star blinked a few times as the words sank in, then gave Specter a knowing smile. "That's just like her…to ask for help in such a backhanded way…"
Specter nodded. "Oh, yeah."
"She's right to ask for it, too. The twins were scared to go to school tomorrow. I told them I'd walk them there to make them feel better."
"Then why is Kid asking me to keep an eye on them?" Specter asked with a pensive frown.
The shinobi just shook her head, her smile turning sad. "She walked out of the room before she could hear me make that promise to them. I think that's why she asked you to do it. She didn't think she could ask me. She could've."
"But she didn't."
"No."
Specter chuckled. "Classic Kid, stubborn and resentful to the end, huh?"
"Apparently." Gray Star thought for a moment, then sighed. "She's right, though. She's made a lot of enemies at the Academy, and not just because of what she tried to do today."
"Yeah, pissing people off is a specialty of hers."
"Now that Kid can't come to campus, some of those enemies might be bold enough to try and get some leverage on her…through Jenny and Lenny."
"I don't think anyone's that dumb," Specter said with a scoff.
"I'm not too sure about that. This kind of thing has happened in the past." When Specter shot her a questioning look, she added, "Remember who my father is."
He shrugged. "Alright, you got me there."
"While a full-on assault from a majority of the students at the Academy doesn't seem likely, I imagine two or three first-year E.A.T. kids looking to make a name for themselves might try something tomorrow. Maybe more. Oh, god, what if it's more?"
There was silence for a moment as the implications began to weigh on the two of them, for different reasons.
"What should we do, then?" Specter finally asked. "I mean, I'm willing to help, but…there's only so much I can do, you know?"
Gray Star paused to think the situation through. She had promised the twins a safe journey to the Academy, and Specter had promised Kid to keep an eye on them during the school day, but something told her that their combined efforts might not be enough. While going to faculty like their parents could help, Gray knew from experience that what instructors and even Shinigami-sama could do with regard to student interaction was limited, especially when they had children attending the Academy.
No, they had to sort this situation out themselves. Their parents and the Academy treated most E.A.T. students like adults, even if they weren't. While that did allow for certain freedoms, it also meant that they were expected to behave like adults.
Kids got into fights; adults settled things civilly.
My father being the exception that proves the rule…
A few more seconds of thought eliminated a majority of her options. Despite her fighting skill, she didn't want to fight anyone. And after her fight with Kid, the students and the faculty would be keeping an eye on her.
One false move, and she could be in Kid's position, or worse.
That left her with only one option: to delegate to their entire friend group. The twins needed help from family, from her and Allie, but having backup ensured that even if something went wrong, she could retreat and notify the teachers or even Shinigami-sama that an unsupervised fight was going on. It was the only option guaranteed to keep everyone out of trouble until Kid got off her suspension.
She looked up at Specter with a determined look in her eye. "We're calling for backup."
"From the whole crew?"
She nodded.
"Damn. This is serious."
"It probably isn't that serious," she admitted. "But if it is…I can't risk getting expelled for fighting again. And I don't want you getting in trouble, either."
"So…what's the play, exactly?"
"I have a plan." She quickly pulled out her phone and typed out a text…at the speed of light.
Specter happened to see her screen, and his eyes widened as he watched the text get longer. And longer, and longer, and longer. It stretched off the screen before she was done, and she sent it off the instant she finished, no spellcheck or anything.
Not long afterward, her phone dinged, and they both looked back down at her screen.
The message was from Sage, and all it said was " Affirmative."
She put her phone away and smiled. "He'll take it from there."
A few minutes later, he understood what she meant.
Another group chat was created, this one excluding Kid and the twins, but including everyone else. The first and longest text was from Sage. It was written like a missive from a general, describing his soldiers' orders to protect two VIPs.
"If you are in this group chat, you have been requested to aid in protecting Jenny and Lenny from any interlopers or troublemakers that may harry them during the coming class days.
Gray Star is formally asking for your help. We have determined that it would be best to avoid conflict at all possible, but to also protect the twins at all costs, as they are beloved friends and family both. The plan is simple: use strength in numbers to dissuade hecklers and challengers.
In the event that conflict breaks out, Gray Star will notify the closest instructor, which will hopefully end the conflict.
To put it simply: we must protect our friends in the absence of their meister, as she is under disciplinary suspension and cannot do so herself."
Specter frowned, impressed. "Nice."
Responses popped up one by one.
"You can count on me," Max said.
Val put in his own two cents. "bet"
"We are ON IT, Green Man!" Rose chimed in. "If anyone gives them shit, we'll FUCK em up!"
Her text was followed by a fist emoji, and various other emojis that conveyed anger and violence.
"What she means is, you'll have our support," Stanford added.
It took a minute for Allie's response to come through, the thought bubble appearing at the bottom of the screen as she typed.
Despite the time it took, all that popped up in the feed was a simple "ok" .
Flint's response was a simple thumbs-up emoji. And then a cowboy hat emoji. Because of course.
" hell yeah," Nina said. "we'll show em what happens when the fuck with our crew"
"Dam straight, girl!" Honey Lang texted in. "We a team"
Smiling as she saw all the support for her cousins filter in from their friends, Gray Star responded.
"Thank you all so much. Jen and Len mean the world to me and Allie."
Everyone instantly gave the message a like.
Gray Star turned to Specter and gave him a nod. "You're the last one."
He nodded and quickly typed out a response, the final message in the chat, and his own way of setting the tone for the days to come.
"go time is tomorrow so lets do this"
Shinigami-sama pinched the bridge of his nose with his fingers out of sheer annoyance.
What is taking her so long? Things are getting out of hand around here…
He hazarded a glance over at his weapons, who had not only managed to figure out that Tsubaki had bought alcohol for her dinner party, but had also managed to pilfer two bottles of wine from her shopping bags. It had taken them only minutes to get through a whole bottle between the two of them, and they were now hellbent on making Mosquito as uncomfortable as possible while they waited for Maka to return from her little soul journey. Whether it was a form of revenge or just a way for them to stave off boredom, he didn't know.
He just hoped it would come to an end soon.
"So!" Liz declared as she leaned back in her seat, bottle in hand. "Next question, vampy."
Mosquito let out an aggravated sigh. "I assure you, against my better judgment, I am all ears."
Soul snickered even as he held his wife, who was still unconscious as their shared Soul Resonance technique ran its course. This is going to be good , he thought to himself, a shark-like ear-to-ear grin plastered on his face.
"Arachne, your old boss," Patty said derisively. "Hot or not?"
Mosquito blinked. "I am afraid I do not understand the question."
Half-drunk, Liz and Patty immediately burst into raucous, cackling laughter, slapping their knees and covering their faces with their hands. Others in the room chuckled to themselves as their vampire captive just looked on in confusion. When the Thompson sisters had finally gotten rid of their giggles, Liz shot Mosquito a sly smirk.
"You know what I mean," the pistol said, raising her eyebrows suggestively. "Did you have a crush on her, or what?"
The vampire's eyes narrowed as he turned his head to the side. "Lady Arachne was…a beautiful, if evil, woman. Countless men throughout history would have killed to secure her affections. Many men did."
"You're dodging the question!" Patty cried, pointing at him with an outstretched finger. "Would you smash her, or not!?"
"Patty!" Shinigami-sama and Tsubaki said in unison, flabbergasted at her lack of decency.
She shot them a mock incredulous look back. "What? We were all thinking it! Vampy's a fuckin' simp, and he knows it!"
Everyone turned to Mosquito, who, at that point, just held his head in his hands and sighed.
"Kill me now," he muttered. "If death is the only way to escape this torture, I welcome it gladly."
The mood in the room lightened up as everyone shared a laugh at the old steward's discomfort. Maka remained silent, unconscious, her soul still exploring Mosquito's. Black Star was quiet too, but for a different reason.
In his mind, a dark storm cloud stirred, forks of lightning striking cold earth with each new thought. His eyes narrowed as he regarded the former vampire lord, one of a select few foes he had not slain. The weight of his responsibilities as a warrior god were suddenly being brought to bear against his loyalty to Shinigami-sama, one of the few people who had ever bested him.
He couldn't kill Mosquito, that he knew. But he had to do something to stave off the slew of murderous thoughts that were now flooding into his mind. So he sat there, his eyes like burning stars, counting all the ways he could kill the old bastard.
33,456: Shadow Star: Checkmate Slash…33,457: World Destruction Cannon…33,458: Warrior God Taijutsu: Black Star Black Hole Strike…
Castle Stoker was larger on the inside than Maka ever could have guessed. It had taken what felt like an eternity for the Mosquito that she had met in the Death Room, whom she had taken to calling Young Mosquito, to guide them to the throne room. A labyrinth in disguise, the castle's halls and passageways went on for ages, looped over each other in ways that defied architecture and physics, and extended far beyond what a normal castle could feasibly contain. Maka would be questioning her sanity right now if she wasn't contending with four different versions of the same man within his own soul, one of which was crawling on the ceiling.
It was the bug one, of course.
Shaking her head, Maka kept her focus on Young Mosquito, who grimly marched forward, not saying a word. The tall, dark and handsome man was identical to his real world counterpart: cold and quiet, but respectful. Not unlike Mosquito Classic, she realized, though he was treating their traipse through the castle like a tour, talking about the paintings and suits of armor in the hallways as if they had actual, tangible value.
Eventually, after Classic had talked her ear off and Big Arms had threatened to knock her head off for the umpteenth time, Maka reached what she assumed was the very heart of the castle: a massive, half-ruined throne room.
It was cavernous, the ceiling stretching up into an infinite, inky darkness only staved off by light coming from torches on the walls. What looked like art, weapons, even coins were piled around the room, but as Maka looked closer at them, they were black and shiny, almost as if they were made of obsidian, not gold or silver or anything similar. The stone walls were sparsely decorated by comparison, sundered paintings of people she didn't recognize hanging on them at odd angles, and in various states of repair.
Finally, in the center of the room, she saw two beings, the owners of the last two souls she had sensed originally. One, clearly the Count, was sitting on a throne of carved stoneset on a raised dais with stairs on all sides, dressed in a black, old-timey outfit with a ruffle-neck shirt, furs, and an ethereal crimson rose pin on the left breast. The other was not immediately visible, hidden in the shadows behind its counterpart, but its massive, angular eyes burned like pyres of crimson flame, and its soul was large enough to fill the room.
The Dragon.
Maka gulped. While it wasn't as overwhelming of a presence as Asura's had been on the moon, the Dragon's soul, alone, was enough to give her a slight pang of existential dread. It made her wonder why Arachne had never let Mosquito off his leash, but at the same time, perhaps the overwhelming power of the wyvern was exactly why she hadn't.
A voice snapped her out of her thoughts.
"Your excellency," Young Mosquito said with a humble bow, "This young woman seeks an audience with you."
The Count frowned at her from up on his throne, a somewhat bored expression on his face. "Maka Evans."
"Oh, you speak English," she muttered, surprised.
"I speak all tongues of consequence from my era," he explained. "The language of the Britons, the language of the Franks, the Spaniards, the Transylvanians, even the tongues of the Mongolians and the Yamato."
Maka nodded. It made sense. Vlad the Impaler had wanted to take over what was now continental Europe; knowing the languages of his enemies was a prerequisite for that.
"But alas, you are not here to discuss mere matters of language," the Count said as he stood up. "So tell me, Maka of the Evans Clan…why are you here before me?"
She didn't waste any time.
"I'm here to ask you some questions," she said.
"And what would you ask of me, young servant of Moartea?"
Moartea…is that the old Romanian way of saying Shinigami-sama?
Maka cleared her throat and took a step forward, painfully aware of the fact that the other Mosquitoes were deathly silent in the presence of their predecessors.
"I'd ask you to be honest, your excellency, because I came here for the truth." She smirked. "That, and I can see fluctuations in your soul, so I'll know if you're lying."
He scoffed. "I have no reason to lie."
"Good, then that makes this easy." She looked down as she considered her first question. When she looked up again, the Dragon's head was actually in view, and its sheer size made her hesitate. With a gulp, she said, "I think we need to address the dragon in the room."
"Ah, yes, my predecessor," the Count said with a chuckle. "What do you wish to know about it?"
"Are you…really a dragon, by blood? Or is the dragon just another one of your transformations, like these guys?"
She gestured to the other Mosquitoes for emphasis.
He adjusted in his seat, and with practiced ease, declared, "My name, Dracula, is a proclamation of my birthright. I am the Second Son of Dracul, the legendary black dragon of Transylvania. I inherited my father's power, and my brother's as well."
"By killing them, if I know my history," Maka said with a raised eyebrow.
The Dragon shot her a glare at that remark, lips curling over endless rows of sharp, glistening fangs, but stayed silent.
"Indeed," the Count admitted. "When I consumed their blood, I became what I am now: a vampire with the power of a dragon at my disposal. However, in the modern age, calling upon that power has proved quite taxing."
"Guess that explains why we didn't see the Dragon come out during the Battle for Baba Yaga Castle," Maka mused. "Speaking of which…there's something missing from your soul, isn't there? Something you lost when the sorcerer Noah tried to kill you."
The Count narrowed his eyes. "Yes. My form from eight hundred years ago, the age when I was at my most terrible."
"What happened to it?"
"It was destroyed, despite my best efforts. Torn from my very being in a manner most gruesome."
"That explains why your soul was so unstable when I first saw you come to the Academy."
"My soul was irreparably damaged that day. Broken, but not shattered. I only survived due to my own use of sorcery, as well as that foolish human's incredible arrogance." His eyes narrowed dangerously. "So sure was he of his victory that he let me escape, assuming that I would be destroyed once he had completed his infernal collection."
"I had a feeling something was off," Maka said. "I remember Shinigami-sama telling me about the existence of your eight hundred-year form sometime after Baba Yaga, and I was wondering why I didn't see its soul signature when I first came here. Now I know why."
He gave her a curt nod of respect. "You're quite wise for someone who has yet to reach their first century."
"I'm not even half a century old yet," she said with a smirk. Then she remembered how close she was to that milestone, and grimaced.
"Nevertheless, I know you have more to ask of me."
"Just two more things. First, about Arachne. She may be dead, but my colleagues and I need to know if there's any trace of her influence over you left in your soul."
The vampire lord scratched his chin thoughtfully. "You can see the tethers between souls, can you not? The forces that bind them, their very natures? Expand your vision, and you shall see that the witch Arachne has no place in my being. Not anymore."
Maka nodded, focused, and activated her Soul Perception. In moments, she saw every crimson corner of Mosquito's soul, every tree, path, mountain and cloud. There wasn't a spider, magical or otherwise, to be seen.
"Satisfied?" the Count asked.
"Yeah, I think it's safe to say you're not a sleeper agent," she said with a grin. "That's good."
The Dragon let out a soft snort, almost as if it was scoffing at Maka's doubt.
"There's just one last thing I need to ask you, your excellency," Maka said, keeping one eye on the Count and one eye on the Dragon. "The biggest question of them all."
"And what would that be, young scholar?"
Her brows narrowed. "This…bargain, this deal you want to strike with Shinigami-sama, the new Shinigami-sama…are you honestly willing to give up your freedom and come into his service? To swear allegiance to the son of your first master, the god you betrayed?"
Vlad Dracula didn't answer right away, and an eerie stillness filled the chamber, the light emanating from the torches on the stone walls slowly dimming, the flames dying down. Darkness crept in from the corners of the room, to the point where even the other Mosquitoes were visibly uncomfortable. Maka gulped, but stood firm, determined to see this through to the end.
The very end.
His answer proved to be enough, and very suddenly, she was swimming in darkness.
Mosquito was at a complete loss. What had he done to deserve this torture? Humbling himself before the young Shinigami-sama was one thing, but suffering endless insults and innuendos at the hands of his weapons was quite another.
Looking around at the room, everyone seemed to be enjoying themselves, all except the three he had encountered on Lost Island so many years before. The young Shinigami-sama looked just as frustrated as he felt, the blue-haired one was apparently meditating or something to that effect, and the young scythemeister was still unconscious as she traversed his soul.
There was a strange air in the room, one of both merriment and impending doom. The impending doom was mostly on his part. After all, if the woman known as Maka found his character to be lacking, he would be executed.
A sudden gasp from Maka as she awoke and sat up, startling her husband, drew him out of his thoughts.
"Maka!" Soul said. "Are you alright?"
She shook her head, then nodded, wincing slightly at the brightness of the ambient sunlight of the Death Room. "Yeah, I'm fine."
"What did you see?" Shinigami-sama asked, immediately on alert. "Did you get the answers we need?"
Maka turned to Crona, who was waiting patiently in her chair, prim and proper. "Yeah. He's definitely a dragon, but only because he used hemomancy to steal that power from his father and brother."
"I see," Crona said. "One monster begets another."
"So what's the verdict, Maka?" Black Star asked, his eyes deadly serious. "We disposing of him, or adding him to our roster?"
Mosquito felt a bead of sweat roll down his forehead and disappear off to one side. This was it. His moment of reckoning had come.
"I say we keep him," she replied. She turned to Shinigami-sama. "He's genuine. Dracula himself told me as much, and I could tell he wasn't lying."
Mosquito let out an unconscious sigh of relief.
"And what of Arachne?" the Grim Reaper asked.
"Gone without a trace. I'd know if there was even a scrap of her left."
Soul nodded. "That tracks. I ate her soul, after all. She couldn't really get out of that."
"Even if she had escaped death, there's no guarantee that she would have been able to maintain her control over Mosquito," Shinigami-sama mused.
"So you see," the vampire in question said, "My intentions in coming here were genuine. I am truly seeking an alliance…and atonement."
It was then that Liz and Patty appeared either side of him.
"But we still don't know…" Liz began.
"…if you wanted spider booty or not," Patty finished.
Everyone shot the pistols weary, deadpan looks, choosing to ignore their non sequitur.
"The decision is yours, Shinigami-sama," Stein said coolly, startling those who had forgotten he was there. "But you have this doctor's recommendation: take the deal, and secure him as an asset."
"We're behind you whatever you decide to do, Kid," Maka said with a smile.
"Yeah, we've got your back," Soul added.
Black Star just laughed and shook his head. "Killing him might be more fun, just saying."
"Black Star," Tsubaki said worriedly.
She eased up when Shinigami-sama smiled back at them. "Spoken like a true warrior god."
Warrior god? Mosquito's eyes widened. Impossible! He's only human! How could someone like him step into the realm of the gods?
He was torn from his panicked thought process by Shinigami-sama, who appeared before him and gestured for him to stand.
"What say you, Mosquito?" he asked. "Are you still willing to strike this bargain of yours, and serve a shinigami once again?"
The aged steward stood up slowly, then bowed deeply. "I am at your service," he said, his head still lowered, hands at his sides. "I surrender all that I am to you."
"Ohhhhhhhh, I get it now…maybe he wants to smash Kid ," Liz whispered, causing her sister to almost choke on her wine. Or, more accurately, Tsubaki's wine.
"Then let us strike this bargain," Shinigami-sama said, trying his best to forget what he had just heard from his weapon. "What do you require?"
"But a taste of your blood, sir. Your soul shall impose the conditions of my servitude from there."
Shinigami-sama held out his hands. "Black Star?"
There was a flash of light as Tsubaki transformed into a small ninjato, and an instant later, both of his hands had mirrored cuts on their palms.
Nodding with approval, the Grim Reaper quickly let the ensuing blood pour into an unused wine glass, the wounds sealing up once it was half full. He took that glass, and another that had some of Tsubaki's wine in it, and approached Mosquito. The air in the room grew still, and silent, as the vampire took the glass of blood from his new master.
"To new beginnings," Shinigami-sama declared.
"To atonement, and to third chances," Mosquito added.
They clinked glasses, then drank.
When Mosquito opened his eyes again, he was no longer in the Death Room, but rather an endless gray void. Before him, a blackness coalesced, like ink in water, and a white skull emerged at its head.
"Shinigami-sama?" he asked hoarsely.
"Indeed. You face the second son of the first shinigami, the true successor of your original master," the entity said, its voice a blend of the young Shinigami-sama and his father's.
The vampire paused, his mind racing, but he ultimately remembered his fealty and bowed. "What shall my new name be, my master?"
"History repeats itself. To atone for your sins, you shall be branded Alucard until you have fulfilled your purpose…or perished.
"And how shall I atone, my lord? What is my purpose?"
The entity paused, then said with dark conviction:
"It is as it was before. You are to protect the innocent and slay the wicked as and when I command you."
"It shall be done."
"Your responsibilities do not end there, however. I have a new task for you: to protect the Death Weapon Meister Academy, and above all else, protect my successor, the young woman known as…Death the Kid."
His daughter…the unascended shinigami.
Now, I understand.
He is not concerned about his own safety…but the safety of his child.
I am to be her protector, a penance for allowing the first son to fall.
It was late when Specter finished walking Gray Star back to her and Sage's apartment. There was a nervous energy to their movements, even as they approached the front door. Specter almost tripped on the stairs leading up to her floor, too focused on her to watch his feet.
Or, more accurately, he was too busy making sure he wasn't staring at Gray Star to watch where he was going.
Eventually, they did make it to her door, but they both hesitated to do or say anything. They knew they had to part ways, but they didn't want the night to come to a close. There was something missing, but neither of them was brave enough to mention it.
"So, uh…" Specter began, "Here we are."
Gray Star couldn't help but look away. "Yeah…thanks for walking me back."
"No worries. Anytime."
"It's been a…rough day."
"I getcha."
"Yeah. I just needed time to process everything. I really appreciate you letting me vent. And for helping me with the twins."
"No problem."
Specter could feel the heat creeping up his neck, which only made him more nervous. With her sharp senses, she could probably tell he was nervous, and that was no good. He really had to work on his poker face.
Something told him that if he didn't do something now, he'd regret it. But what to do? He was forced to make a hasty decision when Gray Star started moving ever so slightly toward the door.
"Well, uh…you know…" he began, not sure where he was going with this, "I, uh…I've been thinking…"
Gray Star's eyes widened, and she nodded along, anticipating what was coming. "Yeah?"
"We, uh…we're a thing, officially, right?"
"Yeah," she said, hopeful.
"And, uh, I feel like we should…I dunno, seal the deal, before we bail, you know?"
The moment the words left his mouth, he gave up and turned to one side, his hand gravitating to the back of his head out of shame. Surely, he was asking for too much.
"Geez, I must sound like a total jackass. I should probably hit the road…"
"No, it's okay," Gray Star said quickly, stopping him dead in his tracks. "I know what you mean. We've been talking, and texting for so long, dodging the question all this time…and now that we're here, it feels like—"
At that moment, Specter's phone began to vibrate rhythmically in his pocket, cutting her off.
"Dammit," he growled, growing even more flustered. "What is it now?"
The caller ID revealed that it was his sister, of all people.
He quickly answered it. "The hell do you want?"
"Where are you?" he heard her say. "It's, like, ten. Figured you'd be back by now."
"Why do you care? We don't have a curfew."
Her scoff came clearly through the speaker. "Yeah, but you're supposed to be the responsible one. Figured you'd have texted me or something. So, what the fuck, dude?"
Specter let out a sigh and shook his head. He knew he was going to regret telling her the truth, but he also knew trying to hide the truth would just make things worse. So he gave her as little detail as possible.
"I walked Gray Star back to her pad, I'm like ten minutes out. Ya happy now?"
There was a pause on the other end of the line, then a chuckle. "Shit, you're lucky I'm not evil. Otherwise, I'd be spilling this tea to everybody. "
"Thank you for not being a horrible person," he said flatly.
"Don't thank me yet. If you don't tell the crew soon, I'm gonna tell Val, and you and your new lady friend won't hear the end of it."
Specter gritted his teeth. "Alright, I get the picture, just drop it."
"Aight, damn, say no more." There was another pause. "Oh, and Spec?"
"What?"
"Use protection."
She hung up before he could respond.
"Damn her," he said quietly, knowing Gray Star had probably heard everything.
One look in her direction confirmed that; she was beet red and trying to disappear into her turtleneck.
"Sorry, Gray," he said, equal parts embarrassed and annoyed. "My sister is a professional gossip. She was bound to figure it out."
"It's okay," she said softly. "She probably won't say anything right away."
He sighed and put his head down. "Probably not, but she'll probably hold this over my head for a while."
"Sorry."
"Nah, don't apologize. I'm the one who fucked up." He scratched the back of his head and took in a deep breath. "I should honestly probably get going, make sure she doesn't do anything."
Specter gave Gray Star what he hoped was a smile.
"Guess I'll see you tomorr—!"
Before he could finish his sentence, Gray Star closed the short gap between them and kissed him full on the lips. The contact was brief, and very light, but was electric nonetheless. Not expecting it, Specter was stunned, and when the moment was over, looked to the shinobi for an answer.
She looked just as shocked as he felt.
"Did…did you?" he managed to get out.
"I'm sorry," she said, more red than Specter would have thought humanly possible. "You said that…you wanted to…you know…and I thought that this was what you meant…"
"I mean, it was, but, uh…" He smiled nervously, his father's shark-like teeth on full display. "I never thought you'd be the one to make the first move."
Gray Star let out a chuckle, all but imploding from embarrassment. "Me neither. But, well…here we are."
The two shared a laugh at that, their nerves still buzzing from the kiss, butterflies swirling in their stomachs. They were relieved, sure, and happy, but still very on edge. Romance was new to them, and kissing was definitely new to them.
While parting ways without a way to "seal the deal" had initially been a disappointing idea to both of them, now that they had kissed, they suddenly felt the need to retreat and recuperate from this horrific fumble of a romantic moment.
"Text me?" Gray Star asked.
"Yeah, definitely."
They awkwardly waved at each other, then separated, Specter initially heading the wrong way down the hallway before turning back, passing her, then waving again as Gray Star quickly ducked inside her apartment.
As the timid shinobi hurriedly closed the door behind her and made her way into the living room, she found Sage there in his armchair, reading. He perked up as the front door closed, and looked right in her direction. There was a brief pause, then Sage attempted to say something, but in a panic, Gray Star cut him off.
"Not one word," she said sharply, pointing a shaky, shaky finger at him.
His silence and the smug look he gave her proved to be much worse than anything he could have said, and she quickly retreated to her room, a breeze weaving its way through the apartment as she disappeared.
Sage just smiled to himself and kept reading.
"All is fair in love and war," he muttered to himself.
In a split second, a shuriken flew out from Gray Star's room, down the hall, and right at him. The throw was perfect, but predictable. He caught it without issue, placing it gently on the coffee table in front of him, next to a neat stack of identical shurikens.
"Point taken," he conceded.
He spent the next few hours enjoying a book of Japanese poetry given to him by his father. When he finally turned in for the night, he thought he heard thumbs tapping on a screen as he passed his meister's room. Knowing he'd need to catch another shuriken if he made a comment about it, he just continued on to his room and went to bed.
The tapping didn't stop until almost one in the morning.
Omake
"You know we have school tomorrow, right?" Allie said crossly, hands on her hips and a glare in her eye.
Her weapon was sprawled out on the floor, whiskey tumbler in hand and drool spilling out of his mouth and onto the kitchen tile. His bottle of Death's Head was on the counter, the whiskey inside only reaching the base of the neck. It had been almost full when they had come back from their manhunt for the twins.
Considering the brand's reputation for killing men who were unprepared for how strong their alcohol was, it was a miracle Flint was still alive. But by that same token, he was alive, and wasted. And she really didn't feel like mopping vomit up off her kitchen floor, not after the day she'd had.
Her sympathy well was officially bottomed out.
"Wake up, dammit!" she shouted, kicking him in the leg.
Startled awake, Flint snorted and jumped up off the floor, becoming a ball of light and shifting into his weapon form, clattering to the tile as a revolver.
A drunk, snoring revolver.
Allie blinked. Was tranforming his security measure for when he was unconscious? Or was it just a way to keep her from bothering him?
She quickly realized that she didn't care, and simply picked up his glass, threw it in the dishwasher, then grabbed him by the barrel and chucked him unceremoniously into his room. As she was walking back to her room, she heard a metallic clang followed by the sound of something heavy crashing to the floor. When she poked her head inside his door, she found Flint back in his human form, nursing a bump on the back of his head.
"Agh, shit…" he mumbled. "Fuckin' floor…better watch yer back, you sumbitch, or I'll…"
He apparently didn't have the wherewithal to finish his threat, because he was quickly back to snoring.
Allie sighed and shut the door, shuffling to her room before flopping into her bed half-dressed. Tired didn't begin to describe how she felt. Before long, she was snoring too, anticipating a great deal of trouble the next day and not looking forward to it.
That, and a horrible hangover on her weapon's part.
How delightful.