The peaceful quiet between companions had to end at some point, though Michael was a little surprised it was Anaya who broke it upon the pair returning to the lounge their other companions’ were “hanging out” in.
“Why is there a horse in here?!”
Giacomo glanced back from his place at the square table, sitting cross-legged on a chair, and raised a hand in greeting to Anaya’s baffled expression and Michael’s confused look, “Hey Sister Ana, Sister Isha. How goes it?”
“Why is there a horse in here?” Anaya repeated, her tone flat and unimpressed.
“Shhh!” Noriko–also at the table and sitting on her knees–insisted, before glancing at Giacomo, “Come on Lanky, it’s your turn!”
“If you insist,” he said, before placing a blue card on top of a red one sitting on a pile in the center of the table, prompting an irritated noise from Noriko.
“You would have a shui you prick…”
“Hi girls!” Seona greeted from her own place at the table, on the room’s couch and atop an extra cushion to keep her level with said table. She also had a set of cards in her mouth, which seemed unhygienic. “This’s Kieran! He’s a work friend.”
Michael blinked, then looked over at the horse. Which, from the mottled green skin and wet, stringy hair, might actually be a kelpie. “…I suppose that makes sense.”
“No it doesn’t,” Anaya contradicted, “Why is your friend a kelpie?”
“Oh, no, kelpies actually look like beautiful white horses, it’s only obvious when you get close that they’re freaky fish things. George isn’t a kelpie, he’s just an aquatic hell horse,” Seona explained, “Also, the horse is George, Kieran is the dullahan.”
Michael and Anaya both paused at that, before the pair repositioned themselves so they could actually see the headless man in a salt-crusted mariner’s coat behind the horse.
“Evening,” the headless man’s head greeted from where it was hanging from a fishing rod propped against his body’s shoulder.
“...Doesn’t that hurt?” Anaya asked, gesturing towards the fishhook stuck somewhere in the man’s tangled, curly hair.
“No, not especially,” he answered, his dark beard that hung past his chin covering his mouth somewhat as he spoke.
“Why are you here?” Michael demanded, cutting to the chase.
“An easy question. I’m here to retrieve my wayward colleague. It is my understanding she received an injury.”
"Ah, yes, she was assisting us in a tournament, but I ended up underestimating the enemy, leading to her current state."
"Oh? I didn't expect to hear an angel own up to something like that," Kieran said as he stroked his beard in thought. It was an odd sight, given his head wasn’t attached to his body. "Well, I will at least thank you for keeping her safe while she's in this state, even if it would have been easier just to crush her head so she'd regenerate completely back home."
"...I would prefer not to do that to a friend."
"Hey, speaking of that regeneration stuff," Noriko cut in once she was down to one last card, "How exactly does it work? Seona mentioned some stuff, but how exactly is her body going to show up again?"
"Well this is a rare case. Usually whenever a dullahan’s physical form is destroyed it also includes the head. The easier solution would be for me to take her back down before her body finishes regenerating so I can just hand her over once it's finished."
"Not until I win!" Seona declared, which seemed unlikely given her currently holding six cards in her mouth.
“Huh. So where does her body regenerate?” Anaya asked.
“Standardly, back home in the azure coffins of the Sixth,” Kieran answered, placing a green card atop the current blues, “The head forms first, then the body with it from the soil and ash of the grave. That is unless the head’s taken from the coffin early. Then the body tends to form after, with, ah…issues. Either way, the head is usually back home, so unless she would rather form her body in front of all of you–”
“Why wouldn’t I? It’s not a big deal,” Seona said, prompting Kieran to raise a bushy black eyebrow.
“...Yeh sure about that? Can’t say I’d advise it.”
“It’s fine! My body’s still going to form properly in the coffin, it just means it’ll have to come here instead of me going to it!”
“...And how does that work?” Michael asked, though they weren’t entirely sure they wanted to know the answer. Something about it felt…concerning for someone who could feel concern.
“Oh I just–Oh, I can show you! Body’s ready!” she said, before spitting her cards out onto the pile, much to Noriko’s immediate displeasure.
“Aw come on, this gal had yi!”
“You didn’t call it, so it doesn’t count anyway,” Giacomo noted, earning an immediate scowl from his fellow human. Though their attention was pulled away from that argument as Seona started making…noises.
“Grrk–c’mon, it shouldn’t be–Ah, ow, ow, erk–shouldn’t’ve done this while I’m physical–”
The next few minutes were disgusting. Michael had no other way to describe it. It was easily the worst thing they had ever seen in all their thousands of years of life and they had seen how weird necromancers could get.
The horrified silence that had fallen over everyone present just made things worse as there was no cover from the cracking, crunching, squelching noises that a full-sized, fully-clothed humanoid body made as it attempted to form out of a severed head. And there really was no other word to describe it. For the first time in their life, they had to admit they were horrified by what they were witnessing.
In a disgusted sense. Not in a fearful sense. Horrifying could refer to more than one negative emotion.
A glance to the side saw Anaya looking disturbed, her face genuinely green as she couldn’t seem to look away, while Noriko had fully left her chair and was making retching noises in a corner. Giacomo, meanwhile, looked fascinated. Which. Hm.
“...why is it wet…?” Anaya mumbled, and that was enough for Michael to simply write off the entire situation and just leave. Just. Nope.
----------------------------------------
“Y’know, reconstituting myself in front of everyone was a lot more embarrassing than I thought it would be,” Seona noted, reminding Michael of the events the night prior and almost putting them off their breakfast. Almost, but not quite, for the angel would not let a mere disturbance disrupt what was commonly known as the most important meal of the day. Especially since Giacomo brought them to another nice pastry place.
“That’s entirely your own fault,” the angel noted in between bites of a cherry turnover, “Kieran offered you an alternative.”
“Neh, don’t start with that, you’re gonna sound like him,” she grumbled, glancing over at her colleague as he tried a crepe provided by Gicomo, “Not sure why he even decided to stick around, he’s usually the one to tell me to get back to work…”
“It’s important to do the tasks you are assigned.”
“Feeeh, I knoooow, but we’re not busy right now! And there are other dullahans who can pick up the slack in the meantime.”
Michael raised an eyebrow. “Deciding your coworkers can handle your responsibilities is not a good work ethic.”
“It’s not that big a deal…” Seona pouted, puffing out her cheeks as she grumbled mulishly. “Besides, you’re not doing anything either.”
“That…is somewhat true. I would say the act of eating is still an activity. Additionally, my lack of activity comes from my lack of discernible leads. Whatever leviathan is in this city is far more subtle than the previous ones I encountered…”
“You mean assuming there’s actually an enemy leviathan in the city, right?”
“...Yes, assuming that.” They sighed, annoyed. “I don’t understand it. King Richard presents an enormous target to any conspirator looking to throw a major nation of the Light Lands into chaos, and thus far that has been the goal of every leviathan I have encountered, not counting Vivian who was just a very rude jouster.”
“But you already checked all the royals and the palace staff, right? I think you even peeped on the princes and princesses.”
“I didn’t ‘peep’, they were in public areas.”
“But yeah, I don’t think there is anything. I mean, I haven’t picked up on anything while I’ve been here either. No demon stuff other than me. Granted, at least part of that is because this whole city is technically a holy place so there’s a sort of…overwhelming sense of ‘life in water’ permeating everything.”
“Oh, are you okay?”
“Oh for sure, it’s not hurting me, it’s more like it’s just foggy out. It’s harder to spot celestial and infernal stuff because everything’s got a thin layer of celestial clinging to it.”
“Hm. Looking at this city as a whole, I find it hard to believe it could ever be considered hol–ow!”
They slapped a hand to the back of their neck, frowning and turning to look behind themself as Seona paused. “Eh? What’s up?”
“...I think something bit me. It felt like a pinch or something…” They brushed at their neck but found no trace of any bug– “Ow, blast it, there it was again!”
“Really? Hm…hey, where did it bite you?”
“Around here, I think,” Michael said, raising a hand to show their neck to the dullahan, “Do you see anything?”
“Uhhh…not really? I mean, you’re an angel, so I don’t think bugs would get through your skin most of the time, right?”
“They wouldn’t, but this one is apparently possessing hard enough mandibles,” they grumbled, before pausing as Seona abruptly slapped the air, “Hm?”
“I think I got it!” she declared, before glancing at her hand and then frowning, “Aw, dang it, I smacked it away instead of getting it…”
“Hm…well, thank you for your efforts.” Michael rubbed at their neck and glanced around, attempting to spot whatever insect had been biting them, though all they noticed was one of the cafe’s patrons seemed to be choking on something. The black-coated man was clutching at his throat and pounding a fist to his chest as he tried to dislodge whatever was in there, and Michael considered heading over to render aid right before he managed to spit whatever it was out with an oddly metallic sounding *clink*.
Well, if he’s fine, it’s none of my business. “Come on Seona, Anaya wanted to properly tour the city today so we should move along.” Perhaps I’ll be lucky and actually catch sight of something suspicious?
“Oh, hey, buddy, you dropped your pipe. Or, flute?” the dullahan said, before handing the black-coated human a wooden pipe of some type.
“...th-thanks,” the apparent flutist replied.
“That was nice of you,” Michael commented as Seona hurried to catch up with them.
“Ah, you know how it is, do a good deed and good things happen to you! Enlightened self-interest!”
“...Sure,” the angel agreed, heading away from the cafe and entirely forgetting about the strange flutist. And why wouldn’t they? There was nothing remarkable about a random musician that nearly choked on a pastry.
Meanwhile, Amaryllis of the Black Shell “mercenary” guild continued to rub his throat, grimacing to himself at the sudden, unexpected pain of having one of his own blow darts smacked straight back into his mouth and nearly down his windpipe. Which he should probably get checked out because he did tend to coat his darts in poison.
Before that though, he pulled up a small black snail shell from his pocket and brought it to his mouth before he spoke out to the guild as a whole.
“A warning to all members interested in the Redwing job. This mark is gonna be a problem.”
Little did he know how much of an understatement his statement would prove to be.
In the future, what remained of the Black Shell mercenary guild would look upon this day as the second worst in their history, the first being the botched assassination of Julius Goldforge that resulted in their guild’s operations in Rosiava being unveiled to the entire nobility and the third, in terms of rank rather than chronology, being the time one of their operatives mistook which address they were meant to send a poisoned wedding cake to.
Suffice to say, they had some stricter regulations put in place regarding poisoning after the fact, not that it helped with the apparently poison-immune false paladin.
----------------------------------------
Michael was having an odd day. Not a bad day, but definitely an odd one.
On the one hand, they had reconciled with Anaya and so their travels about the city of water had a nicer feeling to them in general. Whether she was romantically interested in them or not didn’t matter; they enjoyed spending time with the wood elf and it was nice to have her as a part of the growing tour group they somehow found themself a part of.
On the other, there seemed to be a strange rash of misfortune cropping up wherever the angel traveled. Not for the angel themself, aside from one or two odd moments where something bumped against their back, but for random bystanders.
Starting with the random patron who nearly choked outside the pastry shop, Michael had seen at least a dozen people abruptly trip, slip, or otherwise inconvenience themselves on the sixth dock alone as a strange string of misfortune seemed to suddenly hit anyone attempting to approach the angel.
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There was even an incident where one person claimed to have broken their hand after bumping into them, although Giacomo explained it was just a scam.
"It's a thing people do. Pretend to break a bone after bumping into someone and force them to pay up money for the medical bill."
"Healing magic requires payment?"
"The average person doesn't know how to heal a bone with magic, not really something that is used on the day to day. Course, I know some people run the scam about getting their clothes dirty instead, since it's even less likely for someone to know purification magic around these parts."
"Sounds like you know a thing or two about running scams," Noriko commented as she leaned forward to look at Giacomo from around Michael, "Used to being in charge of one?"
"Hey, I'm not some gutter trash who needs to bum money off of random tourists!" Giacomo complained, adjusting his jacket with a frown, “I’m respectable, capisce?”
“Not really. You look pretty trashy to me, lanky.”
“I thought I looked like a banker?”
“Sure, a trashy banker.”
“...Good to see Noriko is making new friends,” Anaya commented, earning a shrug from Michael.
“They’re…interacting. I suppose.”
“That’s a word for it. Are you doing okay, by the way? You got a little red-faced when we passed through the fifth dock.”
“...” Michael cleared their throat with a faint heat to their face they were trying to ignore. “The advertising standards of that district leave a lot to be desired.”
“Well, at least the security’s good? I saw some guy get practically dragged off by one of those buff ladies in pink for trying to get handsy with a greeter.”
“...I confess, I am not sure how to take that. They are inciting lust, yet that does not mean they are undeserving of protection. They are still mortals.”
“Does mortality have to factor into it? At the end of the day, they’re putting in work and getting paid for it. Anyone should be able to do that with a reasonable expectation of safety, right?”
“Please do not ask me these questions, I barely comprehend the nonsense that is mortal economics on the best of days.”
Anaya snorted then, giggling for some reason as their group continued their way down the fourth dock, towards the shipyards. Giacomo and Noriko continued to bicker as they took the lead while Michael and Anaya filled out the middle and the pair of dullahans trailed behind. A glance behind showed Seona still had that bushel of bananas she’d bought from a fruit seller for some reason while Kieran seemed content to meander with his head hanging from his hook, though he did occasionally tug his colleague’s sleeve to keep her from wandering off.
Michael would suggest he get a leash, but that wouldn’t really work given the dullahans’ natural decapitated state…
They shook off the thought, before pausing as the group reached their destination. “...dear gods, it’s hideous.”
Giacomo burst out laughing outright there, but Michael felt safe in their estimation of the large, ostentatious barge currently undergoing final maintenance at one of the dock’s major shipyards. The massive, crimson ship was one of those weird boats, the type with the rotating paddles at the back that kept it moving, leaving the deck bereft of masts. Not that it was empty of large structures; no, in the middle of the deck was a massive statue of King Richard composed of rose gold, one hand on his chest and the other extended in some kind of beckoning gesture that would look unsavory even ignoring the fact that the figure was only loosely covered by a flowing cloth that really couldn’t be considered to keep the man “modest”.
“Why does a barge have a figurehead and why is it a lion-headed woman?”
“His majesty couldn’t decide if he wanted a lion or a naked lady on the front of his ‘wedding ship’,” Giacomo explained after managing to regain his composure, “It’s a nice compromise, no?”
“No.”
He snorted again as Noriko tilted her head in visible confusion. “The king has the whole archducal palace for his wedding…why is he having a wedding ship built?”
“Ah, not just one, mia amica piccola! His majesty built three!”
“What.”
“Look for yourself!” Still barely holding in laughter, Giacomo gestured further down the shipyard where two more barges were indeed being touched up. “One red, one green, and one blue! To honor the three goddesses of Luceneva! And his majesty too, of course.”
“This gal feels like she’d take something like that as an insult, not an honor,” Noriko mumbled, before glancing up at a faintly amused Anaya, “Hey Naya, you’re the godly person here. Does this count as an insult?”
“Heh, not to Mother Chlora, at least. She’d be more amused by how ridiculous this is, if nothing else.”
“Huh. You sure? She wouldn’t even be mad about the waste of wood?”
“Considering some stories say she gave knowledge of ships to mortals so the wood of her forests could touch the seas of her lover, I don’t think she would be.”
“Ha, ah, well hopefully Madonna Mesic doesn’t take much offense to his majesty’s garish display,” Giacomo commented with an amused smile that abruptly dropped as he stepped past Michael and punched a man in a black coat straight in the face.
“Woah!” Noriko jerked back as Michael immediately put themself in front of Anaya, frowning at the sudden violence.
“Giacomo, what–”
“Not a problem!” he reassured, before grabbing the dazed and broken-nosed human by the lapel as he yanked the tanned, dirty-blond man up, “It is just some guild business with my friend Acacia here, I will be right back!”
Michael frowned, but lowered their guard somewhat as Giacomo pulled the blackclad man to his feet and dragged the blond across the shipyard, grumbling with an uncharacteristic anger under his breath. “Motherfucker, you try to pull this today? With the Sisters right there?! You even know what off-limits mean!? You’re lucky if I only break your fucking jaw you piece of fucking–”
“Huh. Knew he was a thug, didn’t know he could actually throw a punch,” Noriko commented.
“Woah, what happened? I was staring at the naked statue man, where’d Jack go?” Seona cut in, alarmed and confused. A reasonable enough reaction–
“Miss Redwing.”
“GYAH!” Seona yelped, jerking back as a red-eyed blonde made her presence known, prompting a frown from Michael.
“I know you. One of the Avachi sisters.”
“That is incorrect, Miss Redwing,” the blonde contradicted in a calm, even tone, her hands folded over her crimson dress. “I am Merapi, not Avachi. My employer wishes to speak with you.”
Micahel frowned deeper. “Centola wants to speak with me?”
“My employer, Darius Centola, does indeed wish to speak with you. Will you allow me to lead you to his location?”
"...What does he want to talk about?"
"He did not inform me about such matters. I ask again, will you allow me to lead you to his location?"
Michael frowned. "Will you leave if I say no?"
"No."
"...Hm. Anaya, I'll be back soon, please make sure no one wanders off."
“This gal’s a little offended she’s considered at risk of wandering off,” Noriko comments with a mock-pout.
Anaya huffs in some amusement, before smiling at them. “Don’t worry, I’ll keep Seona and Nori from getting lost.”
“Eh? Why would I get lost?” Seona asked, tilting her head in genuine confusion.
Michael just sighed, before nodding to the strange blonde. “Fine. Show me the way.”
----------------------------------------
Much like their main rivals the Sapphire Serpents, the Vermillion Furies completely ignored the rule of keeping their home base contained to Dock 2 in favor of setting up on Dock 1, amidst the wealthy upper-class of the city. Granted, given the city-state lacked most forms of nobility, that upper-class was more akin to wealthy merchants and minor yet wealthy lineages; in that light, the mercenary leaders certainly did fit in, though where Avilio Veloah enjoyed his status, Darius Centola appeared to resent it.
The aggravating elf’s estate seemed deliberately designed to stand out amidst the other villas; the whole structure was a vivid crimson and clearly drawing from Zemavan influences in its architecture, similar to the guild hall the head Fury refused to actually use. He even had his own flag flying above the building–portraying a feminine figure with winged arms wreathed in flames–and as Michael entered the building alongside Merapi, they couldn’t help but note the idiot decorated his interior with orihalcum, the rose-gold metal glimmering in inane decorations. Mainly weapons and armor that Michael doubted had ever once seen combat.
Though the angel’s attention was taken pretty quickly by the fact that there wasn’t just one, but two more identical blondes in the foyer, both dressed similarly to Merapi as they bowed to the angel.
“Greetings, Lady Redwing,” the one on the right said.
“Welcome to Villa Centola,” the one on the left continued, leaving Michael briefly confused before they pieced things together.
“Ah, you’re triplets then, not twins.”
“Your skills at observation are astounding, Lady Redwing,” the leftmost blonde praised, straightening with a polite smile, though Merapi gave her a look before turning towards Michael.
“To call these two my sisters would be accurate, Lady Redwing,” she stated, “They are Vesuvi and Avachi. Please direct any queries or requests to them while I fetch the master.”
“Do you require any refreshments?” the rightmost blonde, Avachi, promptly asked as her sister left.
“No.”
The blonde straightened, her face expressionless yet oddly disappointed. “Understood.”
“Then if that’s all, I will be going now,” the other blonde, Vesuvi, stated with a smile, already turning and leaving as Michael raised an eyebrow. Avachi seemed alarmed, though she was trying to hide it, and the angel felt an odd sense of sympathy for the strange blonde. They certainly knew what it was like to have to remain professional when no one else wanted to–
“C-Cardinal Michael! There you are, hello!”
Michael blinked, then glanced towards the stairs with a frown as Darius Centola rapidly made his way down, practically sprinting as he rushed to the ground floor and slowed to a stop in front of them, his hands clasped with a simpering smile on his face.
“It’s so good to see you, Cardinal! I really truly must apologize for my previous conduct! I had no idea you were an individual of such importance deserving of so much respect and admiration! To think, a Cardinal, coming to such a lowly place like this, you truly honor everyone here just by your presence!”
Michael’s frown was still in place, though it was more confused than irritated, until it faded into resignation. “So you took my advice and asked your grandmother about me then.”
“Er–Y-Yes, exactly, that is exactly what I did! A-And let me just tell you, she had nothing but praise for you oh holy cardinal! W-Why, your majesty is the stuff of legends! Here, here, come on, we need to talk–ah, we must chat! And discuss important matters! Because really, truly, it is so good to have you here, blessing us with your presence–”
Centola’s simpering continued at an almost rapid pace as Michael found themself following the mercenary to what they assumed was his office. It wasn’t the first time they had to deal with a high elf's attempts at sycophancy, and they doubted it would be the last, though it was the first time the toady in question had been hostile directly to their face beforehand. Most settled for snide remarks when they thought the angel was out of earshot.
Centola made for the desk at one end of the room, then paused and thought better of it, instead moving to a couch and clapping his hands at his servant. “Merapi, Avachi, get a good chair for–No, a sofa! Something comfortable for the cardinal, get to it!”
The blondes bowed their heads and hopped to his command while Michael idly took in the overly red room and with a set of vast windows along one side of it.
“Beautiful view, isn’t it? While I’m sure you've seen better ones in your time, Cardinal, you have to admit it’s gorgeous out!”
Not really. Even insofar as Michael had seen better, the view out the villa’s high windows wasn’t especially impressive. Mainly because it was facing the city so the only real view they were getting was of the nearby villas, and Michael had already seen far too many marble residences in their lifetime to find these ones even slightly impressive. It didn’t help that they felt like a voyeur looking at people’s homes; they could even see one person climbing up onto their roof some ways in the distance.
That aside, it took some time for Centola’s servants to get the room set up to his exact specifications, but eventually the angel was seated across from the elf in red leather seats, the windows on their right and the servants standing to their left.
“I can’t begin to tell you just how sorry I am that such a terrible misunderstanding took place between us,” Darius began, a hand on his chest as he apologized without hesitation. Somehow, he sounded even less genuine because of that. “I really can’t apologize enough–”
“You have. Now apologize to Anaya.”
“Oh I will! I’ll of course apologize to you lovely companion the instant I meet her next! I should have known from the instant I met you on the street that you were someone important, Cardinal! It’s my fault, completely and totally my fault that I misread the situation, and all because of those serpents that were trying to turn you against the rightful people of your nation–”
“Is there a point to this?” Michael interrupted, annoyed.
A flash of distaste crossed Darius’s face before the smile returned. “Of course there is! Let’s just…heh, ah, what do you take for a drink–I mean, what would you like to drink, Cardinal? I can have any of my girls fetch something the instant you ask. In fact, Merapi, where’s Vesuvi?”
“I believe she has already anticipated your desires, master, and has gone to retrieve refreshments for you and your guest–”
“Here I am~!” Vesuvi called out as she entered the room, smiling brightly in a surprising display of emotion made all the more shocking by the fact the blonde had switched from her standard dress to a crimson swimsuit, paired with a far too short skirt and a maid’s headdress. The…bouncy blonde strode right over to the table and set down the tray, before turning that smile towards the red-faced angel. “Would you like anything special, oh honored guest~?”
“...ah…s-such as?”
Her expression turned sultry as she licked her crimson lips. “I’m sure we could think of something~”
Michael felt themself swallow, before they glanced at the other blondes. Merapi looked almost exasperated while Avachi visibly tried to keep her composure. Not with much success, but she was doing better than Darius, who looked apoplectic.
“What. Are. You. Doing?!” he practically snarled, though Vesuvi only smiled in reply.
“I am acting as you desire, master! I made sure to get dressed in the special service uniform and everything!”
“That’s–Th-That’s not for–” He flinched at Michael's half-incredulous, half-annoyed gaze, attempting to explain himself. “I–She’s doing that on her own, I don’t actually order that, ah ha ha, ah, I-I’d never! I’m a pious man! Not tempted by the sins of flesh, not that they even have flesh to begin with!”
“What?”
“W-What? I–Look, if needed, I can just have them leave!” He looked like he’d prefer that option, which just made Michael want to refuse him…
“...How did you even come to hire these…individuals anyway?” they elected to ask, giving Vesuvi–giving Merapi a glance.
“Oh, that. I didn’t, my grandmother–my patron bought them for me.”
Michael stilled and the heat in the room rose very sharply. “Bought?”
“TH-THEY’RE GOLEMS! Th-They’re golems, not slave, they’re just golems!” Darius rapidly explained, “A-As I said, I am a pious man, Cardinal! I would never engage in acts said to be abominations in the eyes of the gods! At all! Ever!”
Michael’s eyes still narrowed, but they sat back down, taking some satisfaction in the sigh of relief Centola let out. And, on a second look, his explanation did make some sense. The blondes’ skin did have a painted look to it on a closer examination, enough that it was clearly genuine paint of some type instead of make-up, and they could see a ruby set into Vesuvi’s belly button. It could be mistaken as simple jewelry at a distance, but, up close, it was obviously set into the clay of her body.
“You can look closer if you want,” the blonde golem suggested with a smile, “The Agni model is quite popular for a lot of reasons, as you can plainly see~”
Merapi coughed, something she most definitely did not need to do. “We are primarily a combat model, Cardinal. A blending of common clay and fiery rubies to give us power over flame.”
“But we can be customized for companionship too! Pretty nice, right~?”
“...Please don’t advertise yourselves to me,” Michael requested.
“Fucking–V, get the fuck out!” Darius snapped, pinching the bridge of his nose, “If you’re trying to embarrass me–”
“Centola.” He paused, his anger not quite fading as he glared towards Michael. “You wanted to speak with me. Get on with it.”
“...right. Yeah, right, Cardinal. I wanted to tell you about this problem I heard about, outside the city, some ways away. From the rumbling, it sounds like there’s some sort of disaster looming, so if you could head out and get on that–”
The sharp sound of breaking glass was the only warning Michael got before their head was forcibly snapped to the side, a sudden pain springing from the side of their skull as they reflexively grabbed at whatever just hit them. They were dimly aware of Darius falling backwards, his seat tipping over, and the trio of blondes glancing at them in a disquieting calm, none of them reacting to the loud noise that rang out. It sounded almost like a small cannon had gone off, and as Michael gripped the thing that hit their head and pulled it away from a forming bruise, they saw a small, flattened lump of lead.
In an instant, the angel was on their feet, their eyes locking on a figure in the distance. The man atop his roof, though Michael now doubted the roof was ever his to begin with. They mentally added “trespassing” to the current record of crimes the black-clothed figure staring at them in blatant shock had just acquired. Right up there with “vandalism” and “attempted murder”.
“One moment, I need to take care of something,” Michael stated, before their wings spread and they were right in front of the would-be assassin, his jaw visibly dropping beneath the metal mask he wore. “Hello. I believe you just tried to kill me.
“That was a mistake.”