Episode: 3.13

--- Rai ---

He ran a hand through his hair and let his eyes dash around the party.

He was trying to remain calm, but… he really didn’t want to be here, or rather… he didn’t want any of these (strangers) here…

“You okay?”

It took a force of will to keep from snapping at the hand that started rubbing circles on his back.

“Yeah, I’m a… I’ll be alright.” He told his mamá, though he also knew he didn’t sound like it, “Just never liked crowds you know…”

His mamá gave him a wry grin, “I know, you’ve always clung to me or your papá whenever we went somewhere crowded, especially when you were little.”

“Heh, yeah…” Part of him wondered if his aversion to crowds was caused by his other self’s tendency to count ways to kill everyone in a room.

(At least it’s easier to keep my other self under control around our pack though…)

He followed his mamá into the kitchen to help his papà with whatever he was working on, having decided that he’d rather spend the party with his parents than all of the (strangers) wandering around his house.

His papá smiled once he caught sight of them, “Ah, there’s the birthday boy!”

“Uh-huh,” he nodded along, looking over the things his father was messing with, “and you’re not giving me the gift of my parents in jail for giving alcohol to minors, are you?”

“Well, it would give you and Nadya the house to yourselves should you manage to confess, eh?”

“Yeah, it would.” He admitted, though he doubted they’d go that far even if they had the house to themselves, confessing his feelings was one thing, confessing to the fact he had a tail, was another thing entirely.

“Though we might have too much of an audience for that tonight…” he pointed out, as he watched a group of kids he remembered seeing around school, but never actually bothered to learn the names of.

He idly noted the look his parents exchanged, before his mamá resumed rubbing circles on his back. “It’s a nice thing, what you’re trying to do for Des and Nadya.”

“Maybe, but honestly, I…” he ran a hand down his face, “I don’t get why this is such a big deal to them…” (our pack ‘s big enough as is…)

“I know,” his papá nodded, “but still it’s nice of you to use your birthday for their sake. When I was your age, I’d have made the whole day about me, arrogant little pendejo that I was.”

“Language.” His mamá swatted his papá’s arm with a mock glare.

“It’s the boy’s birthday,” his papá laughed, wrapping an arm around his mama’s waist, “he’s old enough to cuss if he wants to.”

(Hell, I could out cuss you if I wanted to… and that’s in at least four different languages.)

“Perhaps,” his mamà broke away from his father, to put an arm around his shoulders, “but he is a proper gentleman.”

“I know, that’s half his problem with Nadya.” His father snarked.

His mamá paused for a moment before glancing at him, and nodding, “Yeah, little bit.”

He ran a hand down his face, before glaring at his parents. “That is not my problem.”

His father snorted. “Fifty bucks says if you walked up and kissed Nadya, she’d kiss you back.”

“No bet.” His mamá agreed.

“That’s… that’s…” he shook his head, unable to argue the point without bringing up the whole Malcontent thing, because truth be told he was pretty sure they were right about him kissing Nadya.

(And… now I’m thinking about doing just that…)

(Great.)

“Damn it.” His father cursed quietly.

“What’s wrong?” his mamá frowned.

His father looked around the party, “I don’t think we’ve got enough hot dogs for all the kids here.”

“That’s not a problem, I can walk to the corner store and grab whatever we need.” His offer was less out of altruism and more out of a desire to get away from all the (strangers) in his house.

“Ah, ah, you’ve been here for maybe fifteen minutes.” His mamá stopped him with a stern look, before turning him back to the party, “I can go to the store, you go mingle with your guests, or seduce my future daughter in law. Do one of those things.”

“But I-”

“Make friends or seduce Nadya, sorry but those are your options.”

He rolled his eyes, before walking towards the party as his mother gave him another light push, or rather walking towards the stairs that would take him to his room and away from the party.

As took the stairs he noticed a picture of him, his mamá, papá, and Chess from around the time they were adopted.

(God, this would be so much easier if Chess wasn’t avoiding everyone…)

He understood her reasons, but at the same time the issues between his sister and their parents wouldn’t be solved if Chess kept running from the problem.

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(Hell, if mamà actually understood the problem she’d hold Chess and never let go if that’s what it takes…)

He ran a hand through his hair as he reached the top of the stairs, and-

Someone grabbed him, dragged him around the corner, threw him against a wall, and put a sharp edge against his throat drawing first blood.

His eyes flashed black and white, as his fingers burned and his teeth itched, and-

“Thought so.”

The knife was pulled away from his throat, and the figure who’d dragged him into the hall stepped back giving him enough space to recognize the blonde girl he’d seen talking with Clara and Nadya earlier.

“Who’re-”

“Charlotte.”

He blinked before looking down at the hand being offered to him.

“What.”

“My name is Charlotte.” The girl explained waving her hand as if waiting for him to take it. Something he definitely wasn’t stupid enough to do given the number of touch-based powers out there.

He glanced down the hall, not sure whether he was glad that none of the (strangers) excluding Charlotte had intruded upon his family’s second floor, or if he should be upset that there were no witnesses to what was happening.

He gave the blonde girl a once over as she slid the knife into her pocket, and idly recognized her as the blonde girl he’d seen Clara enter the house with, while he’d been hiding on the roof with a weak perception filter. He also noted how despite calling him out on being a Deviant type infamous for killing and essentially eating people, her body language was actually more relaxed now than it had been earlier.

(Okay, so she’s Clara’s friend, and she’s… a part of the Masquerade…)

The two halves of his life were meeting because of a friend of a friend.

(Just… lovely…)

“What was that about?” he asked cautiously, not sure how exactly he was going to deal with the girl in front of him.

Charlotte watched him for a moment longer than most humans would, something he half consciously flagged as familiar, before making several signs that roughly translated to, ("Malcontent are called silver-eyed devils for a reason.") a message that had his spine stiffen for a number of reasons.

Now the fact that she knew sign language wasn’t a big deal, half his friends and family knew sign language because of Clara. Hell, even the ominous message didn’t throw him all that much, given some of the shit he’d heard from other Deviants.

No, what had him on edge was the fact that she was using a Malcontent derivative of sign language.

His eyes immediately jumped to the girl’s emerald green, a color no Malcontent naturally had, before he signed out his own question, deciding this conversation wasn’t one he needed anyone overhearing.

("How do you know Sign Hands?")

("Know a couple of Malcontent back home, picked up a few things from them.") the girl signed back easily.

He watched the girl claiming to know a Malcontent well enough for them to teach her the sign language Malcontent developed solely for the sake of keeping secrets, before grabbing onto his pack bond and pinging the hell out of his sister.

[Priority] [Fear] [Alert] [Shock] [Alert] (Chess get your ass over here, right the fuck now!!!)

He kept his eyes locked on the blonde girl, who in less than two minutes had completely devastated his sense of safety. After all, this was his house, this was supposed to be his safe place away from Sanctuary, away from other Deviants, and here was this (threat) calling him out on being a Malcontent, as well as claiming to know another Malcontent.

[Shock] [Fear] [Query] (What’s wrong?!)

[Alert] [Objective: Fail] [Unit: Self] (Someone knows I’m a Malcontent!)

[Shock] [Fear] [Objective] [Time] (Fuck! I’ll be there soon, just… hold out!)

Charlotte smirked after a moment, before making several signs, ("Don’t worry, I’m not going to out you.")

He scoffed, before signing back, ("I think you’ll forgive me if I don’t believe you, what with the knife and everything.")

Charlotte shrugged, ("I just wanted to see if you were a Malcontent.")

("You do realize most Malcontent would kill you for outing them.") It was something he was honestly considering, and the only reason he didn’t knock her out and drag her through a window already was because Clara would notice her disappearance.

(If she works for Sanctuary, they could’ve flagged Clara as a way to get close…)

That… was an unpleasant thought, and he hoped it was just paranoia despite the plausibility if she was a Sanctuary intern.

Charlotte grinned before pointing out the fact that, ("I haven’t outed you to anyone, yet.")

That made his eyes flash. ("‘Yet’, being the keyword.")

Charlotte rolled her eyes, ("If you killed me here, you’d out yourself in the process.")

("I can make it quick and quiet.") He subtly wrapped his tail around her throat to press the point. It was a bluff, since she was Clara’s friend, but she didn’t need to know that, just like Clara didn’t need to know he’d threatened to strangle her friend to death and leave her body in a ditch.

Without even looking away the blonde pinched his tail, causing him to snap it away from her on instinct.

(The fuck?)

He blinked trying to figure out what the fuck just happened.

Charlotte gave him an amused chuckle, ("You’re not the first Malcontent to try that on me.")

(Red flag, red fucking flag!)

He swallowed down whatever apprehension was building in his throat.

“What exactly do you want?” he asked aloud, knowing it’d be easier to tell if she was lying if she spoke, rather than just using signs.

Charlotte watched him for a moment before grinning, “Like I said, I just wanted to see if you were what you are, and if you were I was going to extend an offer to come visit if you ever find yourself in Baskerville, I can give you a proper tour if you want.”

“Yeah, it’ll be the first thing I do,” (after putting a bullet in my head.)

“Good.” The blonde smiled as if hearing his thoughts and finding them amusing, “Then I guess I’ll see you around.”

“I guess, you will.” He growled, feeling his eyes flash as his other self practically begged to attack the (threat) stupid enough to turn its back on him.

The blonde paused not even three steps away, before glancing back at him, “I’ve got a few friends in Baskerville I think you’d be very interested in meeting.”

(I’m sure you do.) He thought with all his sarcasm.

As Charlotte reached the bottom of the stairs, he let out a breath he’d been holding for who knows how long, before running a hand through his hair, “Well that was stressful…”

Truth be told he was half tempted to get Chess and spend a day in Baskerville just to (eliminate) her, after all no one would trace it to someone who lived three hours away and had nothing to really do with the city.

(Hell, Chess’s perception filter is built for assassinations, and given how late she is, she owes me one…)

On that thought he sent a ping of [Irritation] at her, though he didn’t bother telling her the (threat) was dealt with for the time being, just in case he did have to kill her for trying to out his Deviant status.

(If Chess doesn’t get here in time I might have to just drag the bitch into the shadow side and ditch her…)

The doorbell rang, cutting off his cautious thoughts of pre-meditated self-defense.

“Mijo, could you get that!”

“Yeah, just give me a sec.” he called back as he started down the stairs, two steps at a time.

(It’s a bit too soon for mamá to be back, so it’s probably someone else…)

The thought made him grimace.

(I mean it’s not like they’re enough strangers in my house…)

Still, knowing that this party was more for his friends and family than him, he went ahead and made his way to the front door, being sure to take whatever route kept him the fuck away from Charlotte of course.

At the sight of the blonde girl he idly ran a thumb just under his jaw, namely over his already healed knife wound.

(Hopefully, whoever this is won’t pull a knife on me…)

The doorbell went off once more as he put his hand on the doorknob, “Give me a sec-”

His eyes widened at the sight of a black and white logo of a sword with six angel wings, before falling on what was just below that.

“Sorry, but there’s been an amount of Deviant activity in the area, and we’ve come to ask a few questions are your parents home?”

His gaze slowly drifted up from the large rifle in the figure’s hands before finally locking with the sanctuary soldier’s visor, leaving only a single thought to pass through his mind.

(Of fucking course.)