“Security at the expense of usability comes at the expense of security.” -AviD’s Rule Of Usability-
_____
From James’ perspective, there was surprisingly little gap between Momo and Rho’s declared “we know where a secret cult meeting is” and the actual process of infiltrating that meeting.
It wasn’t even that hard, which James found a little insulting. They just walked in, invisible. Him and Momo. The meeting wasn’t taking place in some kind of heavily trapped and puzzle filled spooky mansion, it wasn’t in an ornately appointed temple, it was just… in an office. Property management company, a big local one; the cultists were using the conference room with the comfortable chairs, according to an overheard conversation. And of course they had access, because three of them worked here and it wasn’t like anyone was going to steal pens or anything.
”I find this deeply uncomfortable.” James admitted quietly to Momo as he fumbled his hand behind a security camera, trying to plug in the cable that would let the specialized grown program do its job.
”Is this a sex joke?” Momo’s voice coming from her invisible form threw him off, as she’d apparently started going through the secretary’s desk. “Because we’re not really that close right now. And if you wanna invite me to your polycule, you’ll have to have El as a meta, and that’s gonna be awkward for both of you, and I’ll have to hear about how she shot you that one time.”
James clicked the cable into place, waited out the last ten seconds of his invisibility just to be sure the program had time to engage and make sure the camera wouldn’t show him, and then turned on Momo who was clearing a space on the desk to open up her hard shelled case. “How would this be a sex joke?” He asked, exhausted.
”You, fumbling behind something in the dark, trying to find a slot? Come on. You date Alanna, you know.” Momo waggled her now-visible eyebrows. Not at him, just in general, like she assumed James would pick up on it.
Sadly, he did. ”Alanna is a lot of things, but I don’t think she measures up to your idea of how crass people are.” James tried to keep a straight face, and definitely kept his voice down. They were sorta out in the open, one floor over a conference room that they planned to spy on, and while the building was probably empty, James didn’t know if any of the targets had shown up early. “Come on, focus. Also what the hell is that?” He motioned to what Momo was messing with as he climbed off the chair he’d been perched on. “Is that a Pringles can?”
”Yes! But I painted it black and packed it full of magic.” Momo admitted eagerly. “This one won’t even make your eyes bleed unless you’re in a dungeon! Check it.” She twisted part of it, the thick wire and orb apparatus that she had built inside of it shifting into a preset position and activating the totem. Or maybe it would be more accurate to say that it became a totem, where before it was a collection of random objects, and now it was a tool.
Either way, James got close enough to be wrapped in its field, as it instantly dumped the employer and body temperature of everyone in the building into his head. Five people, him and Momo were easy to spot, and one other person James knew from earlier research was a night janitor. That one vanished after a couple minutes of keeping an eye on it, as the man took lunch. The other two were… well, he hesitated to call them ‘cultists’, even though that was simple. But they were also one floor down and waiting for their allies in a way that blocked James and Momo from easily walking into the conference room to plant a listening device.
”Handy.” He muttered. “And a good thing bugs don’t have jobs.”
”It’s humans only.” Momo sighed. “I added the body temperature thing cause it can see corpses, and I don’t really get what it thinks a human is, but since I’m immune to getting Diogenes’d, I think it’s safe.”
James nodded like he was okay with that sentence. “Okay. Well, we’re clear for now, and we’ve got probably less than twenty minutes, so let’s get a hole drilled and put a mic in place.” He took a second as he and Momo got to work to message the others, lurking in a pair of cars within a few blocks of the building. Basic rogue training meant James was smart enough to not bring his phone along, but the skulljack braid he had for fieldwork had enough power in its radio that he could check in with Arrush. And also everyone else, but mostly Arrush. “Doing okay out there buddy?” James sent subvocally.
The response took a little longer than it would have otherwise, as a meticulously human-made program translated the radio signal into something his brain could understand as speech. “I’m r-ready. For when this goes badly.” Arrush sounded so confident about that, it was worrying. He had the emotional advantage of not using a skulljack, though.
”Not everything goes badly!” James protested, and he must have also said it out loud, because Momo snickered at him as the two of them moved a filing cabinet so the hole they were about to make would be covered.
The process of bugging the meeting was pretty simple. When you didn’t really care about making sure that it would be a permanent solution, amateur construction could be as sloppy as you wanted. James didn’t just slice through a bunch of electrical wiring to get it done, but he did do a quick and dirty job that would have left a bunch of debris on the floor below if not for Momo holding a tiny tube with an overwhelming amount of suction next to where he was working. James assumed it was either magic, or something she stole from a dentist’s office, and it wasn’t important to ask which right now.
After that, it was just hooking the compact electronic into place, covering the hole, and getting out of there.
”You’ve got company.” Alice told them calmly over the radio.
”Shouldn’t have thought that.” James admitted out loud, shaking his head sorrowfully. He got a quirked half smile from Momo, and was pretty certain she knew exactly what he was talking about. “Do we have time to get out?”
”Not unless you want to use an invisibility charge.” Ink-And-Key’s tone over the radio was different than his normal anxious self-correction. It was more analytic; not cold, but very precise. “You could do it. There are three going in now, and another pair following them up, but no one after that unless more cars are about to arrive. If you wait for the second group, you could slip out. They don’t have robes. What kind of conspiracy doesn’t have robes? I’m offended.” James filed away for later a note to ask Ink-And-Key what his cultural touchstone was for shadowy conspiracies.
James and Momo’s eyes both flicked to the side as they made the same subconscious movement to ‘read’ the information their leveler earrings gave them when they asked. James had two charges left, and Momo signaled that she had three with what she probably thought was a stylish hand gesture. “We’ll wait.” He sent out. “And wish these things charged faster.” Two days per use was harsh, and it meant that it couldn’t be relied on. Especially since none of the few hundred copies of the small magical item that the Order had made had leveled up to the point that they could do the invisibility trick themselves.
“I don’t like this.” Arrush said as James and Momo found a place to hide just in case anyone came looking, Momo mostly spending the time fiddling with her red orb totems. “What if they… do something? Find you?”
”Then I get to burst out of a third story plate glass window.” James subvocalized. “And I’m gonna tell everyone right now, that is a personal dream of mine, so don’t mess it up if it comes to that.”
”You know I’m the only one of us who can fly, right?” Momo asked, flexing her shoulders like she still had the wings that she could bring out.
James just smiled, leaning back on the speckled paint of the wall they were sitting against. In his thoughts, Zhu was unfurled and excitedly waiting for if he was needed, and the navigator kept jokingly prompting James to the end of the hall and the nearest window with orange guidelines. He seemed to think they could manage to survive the fall, and that was almost enough for James to take on trust.
Being in a building where a secret meeting was taking place was actually quite boring. James had talked to Myles when he was here about rogue operations for a bit, and one thing he felt would have made him a bad rogue was that he did get bored. Even here; now that they knew they weren’t going to get discovered as the people below moved into the conference room, James just wanted them to get on with it.
Instead, what he got as he listened in through both the bug and his own enhanced hearing, was… small talk. People talking about taking their kids to football practice, about their vet bills for their dog, about finding hobbies to share with their wives. If it weren’t for the fact that they’d kidnapped one of his knights, he’d be amused by how their secret meeting opened with ten minutes of talk about if they should get snacks for the next one.
What made James sit up was when the last person arrived; the younger one of the bishops that Rho had encountered earlier in the day. That man was all business, and also clearly annoyed that his older friend hadn’t shown up. He shut down the small talk, and the assembled group quickly got into the process of updating each other.
And quickly, James realized he had gotten excited preemptively. The meeting was… not like what he’d gotten used to with the Order. They hadn’t shown up ready to go, they’d shown up to talk about their agenda for the meeting. It was actually offensive to him. But he and Momo listened to the group of men below as they eventually got around to things James would like to know.
”Where are we with the latest group?” One of them said, in the tone of a man who clearly expected his subordinates to have done something already.
Another man answered after a pause of shuffling papers. “Eighty percent moved. There were some delays regarding luggage.” A ripple of understanding laughter from the collective. “It’s about time to start recruiting for the next wave. We’re mostly bottlenecked by when the rifts are open, but it’s not a big problem with our current rate. Slow and steady will do it.”
”And the machines?” The commanding voice prompted.
Papers shuffled, chairs squeaked. “Nothing seems wrong. It will be slower to get one for everyone than to get them in, but strength in numbers is keeping things manageable for now.”
”How do we feel about drawing from our special young friends this time?” Someone suggested, and James and Momo shared a look as they found something to work from.
Someone scoffed. “Now? Too risky. The others would notice.”
”The apostle’s office in charge of the project is already losing track of their chosen ones.” The original suggester replied eagerly. “Their long term atonement means that no one even inside the group knows where they are. If we recruited from those families, it’s… well, it’s confusing enough that we might get away with it for a while. Another wave at least.”
”Let’s save that for when we’re farther along.” Bishop Anderson from earlier in the day said, shutting down that line of thinking. “Normal sourcing for now. We don’t want anyone getting too suspicious before it’s time.”
James cocked an eyebrow, and asked his maybe too-obvious question to the others through silent skulljack. “Hey, guys? Did we find a double secret conspiracy?” He let out a rattling sigh. “Dance was right, we’re gonna hear about this forever.”
The conspiracy didn’t wait for the hidden conversation, the men carrying on talking. “Alright. What are we going to do about the chosen ones, anyway?”
”What do you mean?” The man replying seemed confused.
There was a sigh and some grumbling, rustling pages that cut off part of a sentence on the mic. “-wrong with what they’re doing.” Someone was saying. “It’s the attention. Nobody wants the Church to be in the news for anything criminal, after all.”
”Is it even against the law?” Someone asked, in a tone that James winced at; it was entirely too familiar to jokes he’d made in meetings. Though at least he had the advantage of having been joking, this guy seemed entirely serious. “There’s no law about age restriction for miracles in this state.” Okay, that sounded like a joke. Now James was going to have to do some soul searching about how snarky he was in meetings.
Another long sigh, and then the authoritative voice again. “No, but murdering a federal agent is. As is the attempted framing of that agent by sacrificing two of our young men. Miracles or not, they’re playing with fire.”
”We’re playing with fire. Half of us are part of that initiative, after all.” There were polite chuckles at that.
”Half of us aren’t. And the end of the world likely won’t care about what ‘side’ we’re on, when He sees fit to let it happen.”
”The point stands. It would be a big publicity hit if that came out while we’re in the middle of trying to save God’s favored. And that is something we can’t afford when the potential loss is all our preparations for the apocalypse. Danton isn’t wrong that miracles aren’t a crime, but we should have a plan for bringing the younger generation onboard when it’s time.”
”Oh, we’re just using names now, Stetson?” The man speaking was clearly irate in a way that probably made the room really uncomfortable to be in. “None of you better come running to me when it turns out our meetings have been wiretapped. The captain is already annoyed with our counterparts for something like that.”
James nearly choked when he heard the wiretap comment. Next to him, Momo started slamming a fist onto her knee. “I’m dying squirtle.” She announced over the radio. “Save me.”
”Are you actually in trouble?” Arrush asked sharply.
”No, sit tight. Momo’s being dramatic about the irony.” James explained. “Momo shut the fuck up, I’m listening here!”
Arrush’s response came a minute later. “Okay. I googled irony. I understand.” The little comment made James smile so wide it hurt his cheeks, and he turned to shoot Momo an obvious bragging look about how great his boyfriend was. She just rolled her eyes back at him.
”Please stay focused.” Alice said in the subdued tone she’d been using since Charlie went missing. James agreed, joking could come later. They did need to know where they’d taken the knight.
The meeting downstairs continued, but there was a lot less to decypher. They were talking fully about recruiting now, lists of names and sometimes neighborhoods, clearly pulled off the printouts they had judging by how many times words got muffled by a collective shifting of paperwork. Making an index of all of it would be useful for continuing investigations, but right now, James had never heard of any of these people.
What he needed wasn’t lists of names for people they should be… protecting? Watching? It would help if James knew what the hell recruitment entailed. But it still wasn’t what they were here for. They needed to know where Charlie was, and right before the meeting broke for the night, he got something that might be an answer.
”Is there anything special we should do with the guy today who knew way too much?” The jokester spoke amid the closing of notebooks and the pushing back of chairs. “Russel got him put in one of the atonement sites that’s supposed to be full, so we can’t just keep him there forever.”
”Shoot him?” Someone suggested.
That got a negative reaction. “Absolutely not!” An older voice bit in. “Solving all your problems with a gun is going to get you shot someday, Mark.”
Someone cut in quickly, trying to pave over an awkward argument. ”We have the miracle curse that… damages… memory. We could try that, and just let him go? I don’t think he’s with the feds, but I talked to Carl Young earlier, and he told me their conversation was specific. If the guy has friends, they’ll come looking. If he’s free and doesn’t remember, then that’s better for us than just keeping him, right? And besides, it doesn’t have to be a fix forever, right? Just a few years, at most?”
”That’s… a very good idea.” Anderson conceded slowly, and James could just imagine the bishop tapping a finger to his chin. “Who’s been studying that, anyone?”
A groan. “They’ve got me on capture and scare tactics. That’s all I have time for these days.” One man said. “Mark might?”
”Yeah, I do.” Whoever Mark was didn’t sound like he enjoyed it. “Alright. Can I get a ride with you? We can do it now and then I can get to bed at a reasonable hour.”
The others laughed, and the small talk resumed as they started to leave the room. It was all so pleasant and kinda mundane, that James had to actively remind himself that they were kidnapping and brainwashing people, many of them children. Though once he had a specific thought, it became easier to remember: that they were doing these monstrous things, and then talking about sports and politics and board games, as if they weren’t in the middle of annihilating the rights and free will of others.
”Alice?” James sent out.
”Yeah, we’re watching. Some of them came in by bus or lyft or whatever, so I’m looking for anyone driving who has a new passenger.” Alice spoke rapidly into the radio. “First few are coming out now.”
James nodded as he started to rise, and then he froze as a piece of information altered itself in his mind. Momo’s fancy totem, great for telling them when they were in the clear, had just dipped down by a single person. And something about that felt off to James.
”Anyone watching, how many people just walked out?” He sent on their radio channel, pursing his lips as Momo turned to him with eyes widening.
”Three. No, four.” Ink-And-Key informed them promptly. “Why?”
”There’s the ‘fourth’.” James muttered out loud as another person left the building, the totem telling him the exact moment they were no longer there. “We have a…problem? Complication. Thing. Yeah, we’ve got a thing.” The totem gave them two pieces of information; affiliation, and body temperature. For every human in the building. And four people had just walked out, which had reduced the count by two.
James felt like he was going to have to have a conversation with Lincon when they got back to the safehouse about exactly what the capabilities of the shapeshifter demons were.
But right now, there was no time for that. He passed on his worry to the others, just in case, but Alice had spotted who she thought she was after, and was pulling away with most of their group’s nonhuman backup in the back seat. There were two other pairs driving away, but one of them had arrived together, and one… well, they couldn’t cover everything.
Except they could this time. James and Momo slipped out the back door of the building, the alarm already disabled just in case, and threw themselves and Momo’s heavy case into the car as Arrush pulled up next to them. Then the ratroach pulled a sharp turn and catapulted their vehicle onto the main road, ignoring a stop sign and taking advantage of the lack of cars at this late hour.
”I can really tell you learned how to drive from a bunch of Route Horizon delvers!” James squeaked out as his seatbelt crushed his chest down, the safety device barely on before Arrush had started pulling maneuvers that earned that title.
”Thank you!” The ratroach looked really happy about the comment, one of his small claws sheepishly itching at some of the chitin on his neck as he took a turn and calmly inserted them into traffic, following at a safe distance from their prey. In the back seat, Momo made a strangled noise herself, hauling her form up from where she’d failed to get bucked up in time.
James laughed and reached over to pat Arrush’s leg. “Zhu, you awake enough to tell us which of our groups is after the right target?”
”…nnnnno.” Zhu said, disappointed in himself. “They’re doing something that’s fucking with me, and I don’t like it. I don’t think it’s on purpose though.”
”Alright. Arrush, keep on them.” James switched his skulljack braid out of safe mode, and opened up a call to the others who were getting farther away. Quickly informing Alice that they were on the other duo, he settled into the rental car’s fake leather seat to take a breath, and mentally prepare himself for the chance that he might have to fight someone shortly. “I bet literally everyone else had a better day than we did. I should call Alanna and Anesh later.” he muttered quietly to himself, trying to distract from the throbbing pain in his stitches.
Arrush gave a concentrated little nod, focused on the road, and for the first time James noticed that the way he held the steering wheel was with claws so tight it threatened to slice the leather covering to ribbons. That might just have been the stress of the moment though.
”Oh god, my leg hurts. That was dumb.” Momo moaned from the back seat. “Will there be more running? I don’t wanna.”
”Only if…” James paused as Zhu swiped across his thoughts, a kind of navigator form of a smirking eye roll. “…anything, I guess. Yeah, there’s gonna be more running.” Momo made a small whimper, and James threw a concerned look over the center console as Arrush kept the car on a steady course. “Did you not get that checked out?” He asked softly. “Or, have some painkillers or something?”
”No time for that.” Momo was clearly trying to sound impressive. “I’ve got… witch things to do.”
”Which things?” Arrush asked.
”No, witch things.”
”Yes, I am asking which ones.”
James pressed a hand into his face. “This is the problem with following people.” He said, tilting his palm up like he was presenting to no one. “We have too much time to banter.”
Momo sat upright with a grunt of exertion and pain, her months-old Climb injury still giving her problems. “What, you wanna have everything be one single dramatic showdown to settle it all?”
”Kinda? Kinda!” James would have to sharpen his thoughts about that later.
Zhu started to peel feathers out of his neck and arm, enough of him forming to join the conversation as he illuminated the car’s interior along with the passing streetlights. “I like the banter. And it’s good that it’s taking a while. I’ve been making sure they aren’t trying to loop us, but I think they are going somewhere weird and don’t know we’re here.”
James nodded. “Already sending that off to Alice, but we’ll keep on both sets until-“
”What’s that?!” Zhu cut him off, voice revving like an overtaxed engine.
“J-James?” Arrush sounded concerned, and at the sound of his name which he almost never heard from the big ratroach, James snapped his head back to look where Arrush was pointing out the windshield. Zhu had spoken first, but he’d felt whatever it was before it was even visible.
The car ahead of them that they’d been following was just starting to pull into the parking lot of a strip mall that appeared to contain three different furniture warehouse outlets. And it was also the epicenter for a smoothly expanding flickering dome of grey flames. They were translucent enough that everyone could still see the other car rolling along like nothing was wrong. And maybe for them, nothing was wrong. “Shit, it’s closing in.” James realized. “Get us out of here!” Mentally, he broadcast an alert with their location to the others, and started to instantly get worried responses. “Momo, telepad!”
”Right!” Momo whipped one of the books out of her tattered black coat as Arrush dropped all subtlety and poured on the gas to try to slip by the growing field before it cut them off, so he wouldn’t have to lose momentum turning them around. “Where do-“
Without warning, the dome suddenly accelerated in its growth, and instead of barely sneaking by to safety, the wall of flames washed over the car. The last thing James thought as it hit was that at least it wasn’t actually setting him on fire.
_____
It was a bright summer afternoon outside, which meant that Karen had a highrise office that would have rapidly been approaching intolerable temperatures if not for the building’s air conditioning. In the abstract, she was aware that air conditioning was something of a long term problem; combating the ongoing heat wave was in part contributing to making the next one. But right now, since it didn’t matter which of the three overheating states the Order had buildings in she did her work in, Karen had set it cool enough to not suffer and refused to feel bad about it.
She was sure that some of the younger parts of the Order’s membership would want to find cleaner, more effective, less destructive long term solutions. That was fantastic. She was here to support them; she was invested in their collective success now to some degree. But she wasn’t going to stop using the air conditioning until that happened.
For her, it was a normal day. A pleasant day. Karen knew for a fact that there were members of the Order out putting themselves in danger, either to delve or to look into potentially threatening humans or actively hunting for the pillars. She was appraised of the various potential problems with having an alchemy test site in the Lair’s basement, of what could go wrong with orange orb constructions, of the long term medical tests for various magical enhancements that still showed no problems but could change at any time. She knew that the world was going to end, sooner rather than later.
But her day was nice. She had woken up early, gotten a light workout in to keep her aging form in good shape, managed to finish several projects and actually get ahead of things for once, and had lunch with her daughter.
Karen felt like she spent a lot of her life perhaps not appreciating the things she should have. She couldn’t take those years back, but she could do better now. And seeing Elizabeth happy was enough to make her feel like her change in outlook was worth it.
It was almost enough for Karen to not offer any pushback on Elizabeth’s college plans. Her daughter was planning to take a year at a community college; to build up credit, she said. That was, in Karen’s estimation, a bit of a lie. Not an entire lie; it would be happening. But Elizabeth had been accepted to the California College of the Arts in their design program, as well as to half the other universities and art schools that she’d applied for. And Karen, as a discerning mother, had a suspicion that was really more of an openly known fact, that her daughter didn’t want to leave her paramours behind.
One of the interesting things about Elizabeth growing older, and the break in their lives that they’d had, was that Karen found she had to make a change to approaching someone who had previously been a child to her, as an adult. She’d gotten advice from a number of people around the Order on the subject, and she thought she did a fairly good job most of the time. For example, in today’s lunch, she never once told Elizabeth that she should break up with the people she was dating just to go to a better college.
She did, perhaps, subtly remind her daughter that she did have access to an elevator that went from the building she lived in, directly to California. So perhaps it wouldn’t be leaving anyone behind exactly to take the rather decent scholarship offer and go to school here. Since, after all, it wasn’t exactly a burden to walk home at the end of the night.
The weirdest thing in Karen’s life, more than the magic or the nonhuman coworkers or the office teleporter, was that when her daughter said she’d think about it, Karen believed her. Maybe all it took after all was to simply explain things in a respectful way, without trying to make it an order. If only she’d known that for raising her eldest son.
And now, lunch complete, Karen was back to work, doing budgetary checkups for the Order. They weren’t exactly scheduled, but she rotated through talking in person with someone from every group or project that she could. Often times, things got missed on paperwork, and giving people a chance to explain things was important.
Stolen from its rightful place, this narrative is not meant to be on Amazon; report any sightings.
She reminded herself that it was important as Amelia, or alchemist Red as she preferred to be called, sat down across from her. Grey hair pulled up in a tight bun, she was one of the few people in the Order who had years on Karen, and was a perfect reminder sometimes of what it felt like to be condescended to by someone older. Though the woman had been getting better, in all fairness. Karen just hoped that would actually play out today.
”Good afternoon.” She greeted her guest politely and giving Smoke a much more real smile as the skittish girl waited by the door to see if they needed anything. “Just yourself today?”
”Davis is indisposed.” Red said with a curt dismissal.
Karen frowned slightly. “Is he sick? Nothing too serious I hope.”
”He bought into one of the brat’s ideas about putting an infomorph into the rats, and during their first test run, it got him instead. So he’s…” she twisted a hand next to her head, fingers curling. “…I don’t know. Whatever you call that.”
If Karen were someone else in the Order, she might have let herself be baited into an academic conversation about what word applied to a person recovering from accidental assignment inception. But she wasn’t, and didn’t. “Please pass along my concern. I hope things go well for him.” She said instead. “Now. The monthly budget allocation for…” Karen looked down at the folder she had before looking back up with an unamused glance. “We cannot keep naming departments words that start with R.” She said.
”It wasn’t my idea, if it helps.” Red said. “Personally I voted for ‘Elixirs'. Let’s skip to the bad news. What’s getting cut?”
Karen smiled in what she believed was a comforting way. “Ah. Davis didn’t explain how these meetings go.” She gave a low chuckle in the back of her throat. “How are things going? Any new projects?”
”I always have new projects.” Red narrowed her eyes in suspicion. “The microbrew style takes a long time to test, but it’s gotten one promising result so far.” She said it like she was defending her very right to exist. “The brats keep messing with their happy rats, which doesn’t cost much. Oh, we need more hands for harvesting the sap. Your… our queer little cactuses are growing at a rate that needs better attention. Aside from that, it’s business as normal, producing what we’re told.”
“Mmh.” Karen looked down at the clean breakdown of expenses she had for the elixir department. “Microbrew?” She prompted.
”Don’t worry, I borrowed the equipment from our ‘chef’. It won’t cost anything.” Red folded her arms.
Karen sighed, closing her eyes for a moment before shaking her head and deciding to cut to the heart of the matter. “Yes, that is rather the problem.” She told Red. “You have project pitches on file with Research, which were approved both provisionally and by general vote. You get a budget, Ms. Red. More than enough to afford a small brewing setup. I have a breakdown of the numbers here…” she pulled out a page and placed it on the desk for Red to stare at suspiciously. “This is based on research into mid quality homebrew equipment. If you believe you will need more, please email.”
”…I don’t understand.” Red said.
”I’m giving you money to pursue your ‘personal’ projects.” Karen told her bluntly. “Because you are a member of the Order of Endless Rooms. And also because your personal projects have previously included a cure for lung cancer. This isn’t a trap. Now, please look over this chart and tell me if there’s anything missing from what we’ve allocated for this month.”
Red studied the numbers with narrowed eyes before looking up. ”It seems… adequate. More than, I suppose. A lot of what we need is people who can follow instructions for production, and more of the… magical pots.”
”Most people say dungeontech if magic leaves a sour taste in the mouth.” Karen advised her.
”That sounds pretentious.” Red bit out the words in a haughty voice.
The irony seemed lost on her, so Karen didn’t offer a smile back. “Well. The potions that we make use of are important enough that we have… hmm… four percent of our total ritual use allocated for making more of the succulent pots. That isn’t my decision though. This meeting is just about the money budget. If you want more pots faster, you’ll need to propose it for our monthly general vote.” Karen shook her head. “It’s already high for a single item, though I agree with you that it’s one of our more useful tools. But I would wager on our team coming back from your home state with more new logistical problems for us to spend the ritual on.”
”Ugh. Utah.” Red scowled. “If there’s one good thing about everything that’s happened, it’s that I don’t have to live there anymore.”
”You were a millionaire, you didn’t have to live anywhere.” Karen pointed out, catching herself before she called the seemingly pouting older woman ‘dear’. She assumed Red would react poorly.
”I did if I wanted to be an Alchemist. So I put up with the arid wasteland and the endless string of missionaries at my door. If you haven’t noticed, I’ll put up with a lot for this.”
Karen nodded. “Yes. Well. It seems you know what matters to you.” She sighed, glancing out the window. “It’s enviable, in a way. Nothing quite feels that way for me these days.”
”You could always come work mixing potions. You seem… competent.” Coming from Red, the word was probably the highest form of compliment.
And for a second, Karen considered it. “Perhaps on my spare day.” She offered, actually meaning it. “In the meantime, if there are no surprise expenses or new purchases unaccounted for…?”
”Oh, we need more rat things.”
”More… lab rats?”
”No, more food than expected, and toys. New enclosure. That sort of thing. It wasn’t too much, but if we’re listing everything…”
Karen considered asking why, but decided to look it up later, instead simply entering a note and beginning the process of hunting down the receipts and charges on the accounts that she needed to have available. “That should be everything. Though. While I have you here, you did live in Utah for some time. I’m curious, did you ever have an encounter with the Long Arm Of The Law?”
”No, Tigris typically took care of- oh you mean the pillar thing, not the actual cops. Right.” Red barked a short laugh. “I never did. We knew from the orrery that there were other groups around us that we couldn’t account for that were probably… oh fuck it all, ‘magical’. But we never met. I think it’s part of why Tigris chose Utah in the first place. Something about being there just kept awareness at a low; not that no one could notice anything, but that things that stood out got… sanded down. You were just as likely to spot a fender bender as you were a giant fireball.”
”Speaking from experience?”
”It happened more than once.” Red admitted. “No one noticed. Suited us fine; we could do direct business once people knew about us, but we didn’t have to worry about uninvited guests.” She paused with a small sneer. “Except the missionaries, obviously. But I think that’s because they walked up to any front door they could find. Nothing special going on there. Same as the twits selling cable or offering to paint the building every summer.”
Karen thought that perhaps she was being more than a little uncharitable, and certainly unpleasant. Though she didn’t get many visitors to her front door anymore, as she lived underground and without street access, and maybe if she had to answer the door more often she would feel more like Red clearly did.
“Well. Thank you for your time. You’ll be CC’d on the email with your new allocated budget. Thank you for taking the time to look over things with me.”
”Right.” Red stood, still looking like she was waiting for the trap to close. “This was… painless?”
Karen nodded. “Yes. That’s rather the point. Bureaucracy is supposed to solve problems, not create them.” She smiled at Red’s obvious disbelief. “Smoke will see you out.” She motioned, and Red turned slightly to see the ratroach girl standing right next to her. “Oh, and congratulations on being the project with the lowest ratio of accidentally vaporized expensive lab equipment.” She added.
”Why do you know that?!” Red’s voice demanded as she stalked out and down the hallway, not expecting or waiting for an answer.
The reason, of course, was that Karen knew everything that happened in the Order. Magic, technology, and their strange offspring gave her an unprecedented ability to be good at her job. And if there was one calling Karen actually did have, it was to be doing things correctly the first time around.
Before she moved on, however, she wrote down a note about what Red had told her regarding ‘low awareness’ in the state of Utah, and sent it off to the people running the operations in the area. JP or Nate might be interested in it, certainly, if they were going to continue to have people down there.
The near instant reply she got thanking her was actually more worrying than if no one had said anything.
_____
Afternoon in Townton was a strange mix of hectic and peaceful.
Everyone had something they were doing, even if it was just recovering. A lot of the population were ratroaches going through the painful process of learning how to be people and not monsters. Many of the humans that lived in the area were also people who were in one way or another ‘rescues’, with at least a couple dozen simply being normal human people Response had pulled out of abusive or otherwise bad situations and… kind of just transplanted here. A few other forms of life from the Office or Sewer lived here too, for largely the same reasons.
The rest of the population was split into people who worked with Recovery in ways both big and small, helping the first chunk of the population with the recovering, and everyone else, who worked at restoring the city, salvaging what there was to salvage, delving the Horizon, studying the chanters or the necroads, or just living their normal lives here in the magically growing four by four block safe zone of what was once a mid sized American city.
One of the people who didn’t live here was Camille the Azure, who was… not grounded anymore, exactly. Especially since she could fly now if she wanted, assuming she wasn’t wearing armor. Her wings were some of the more powerful examples of the Altitude Adept spell that anyone had seen, and because she’d moved in down here temporarily, so had a few Researchers that focused on Winter’s Climb magic so they could study her specifically.
She was currently not being studied. Currently, she was in a condo above what used to be an optometrist’s office, studying the video of people’s .mem files of fights with her sisters.
Nate was another person who didn’t live here, but he also wasn’t limited to Townton for the time being, and when he walked in it was because he’d teleported down from Oregon. He was here a lot, though, and Camille had gotten used to him complaining about it.
”What the hell are you doing.” He asked her flatly as he walked in, dropping a fast food bag on the desk for her. The room was sparsely furnished; the bedroom they’d stuck their prisoner in had more total furniture than this front room. But it was, for now, Cam’s home.
She didn’t look up from the old record of Anesh pouring rifle shots into a Violet to limited effect. “I need to be ready.” She said. “For the next one.”
“Cam…” Nate started out annoyed, but stopped himself, and took a deep breath. Camille noticed when he did this; modulating his emotions, trying to be… what? Kind? Not exactly. He was still Nate, but he was trying to be helpful to her. “Can’t be healthy.” He commented.
”Neither is this.” She opened the bag that contained her paper wrapped chicken sandwich. “Neither is your stress over the situation. You should-“
”Oh you don’t get to tell me what I should do about stress.” Nate pulled one of his beers out of the fridge and pried the top off with one of his keys. “Besides. I’m not stressed. I’m pissed. That’s different.”
”No it isn’t.”
He narrowed his eyes at her before taking a drink of the cold beer and swiping sweat off his bald head. There was no AC in this place yet, and the magic fix for it was gated by how many people took the Climb spell for now. Nate started pacing as Cam replayed part of the fight footage. “Wasting time here.” He grumbled. “You hear about Utah?”
”I’m up to date with everything the rogues are doing, yes.” Camille said without looking up.
”Yeah. Well. I need to get down there, but this happened. You couldn’t have…” He broke off, shaking his head. He was going to ask why she couldn’t have just waited, but Nate knew that was a fucking unfair question. “Any change on our guest?”
”No.” Camille looked up at that. “I can watch her, you know. You don’t have to be here.”
”What, leave you alone with the person who nearly pasted you across the street? Pass.” He grunted in exasperation, walking over to crack the blinds and look down at the street where people were moving aside to let a kei truck move a fridge past. “We need more people.”
”You could leave the sword with me.”
Nate let the blinds flick shut, turning back around. “Cam, you fucking know what? I don’t trust you not to hurt yourself with it.” He said angrily. “You can fool a lot of people with that stoic bullshit attitude you put on, but it won’t work on me. I’m…”
He was here to keep an eye on her, as much as the captive Crimson.
And Cam knew it. And she couldn’t even be mad. Had she tried to suicide on her sister? She didn’t even know. It was all a bit of a blur; too many emotions too fast, too much for her to really remember. She didn’t think so. She thought she was… better now. But maybe not. So she didn’t countermand Nate when he said no.
”It’s… fine.” She said eventually, eyes focused on the footage on her screen, but not actually paying attention anymore. “Azures aren’t strong enough, I suppose. Like she… said…” Camille looked up abruptly, a needle of a thought dropping into place as she spoke. “Nate.”
”Hm? You alright?” The instant shift to concern was almost itself concerning.
”Azures. She said Azures.” Cam turned to look at the open door to the room her sister was in. “She… knows. She knew. The whole time, she knew.”
Nate looked down at his barely touched beer, then sighed and set the bottle on the counter. “Walk me through it.” He ordered.
”We’re divided into units. ‘Families’, technically. But we aren’t supposed to know that. Because of our specific senses, and our role as intelligence operatives with access to more records, Azures almost always learn about this. And eventually have a crisis of faith, and try to leave.” Camille looked at the backs of her hands. “Like me. But Crimsons? They stay in the dark until they die. But she said… Azures.”
The barrel chested human nodded, leaning back against the counter and crossing tattooed arms in front of himself. “So she knew. Maybe not the pattern or the history, but she knew you weren’t the first. So what?”
”So…!” Camille followed through on the thought. “Oh. So she likely… killed some of my sisters before.”
”Maybe. Maybe not. Doesn’t really matter.” Nate offered like it was easy. “You gave her a choice, after all. And she spat on it. So fuck whatever she knew or didn’t know, end of the day, she made her bed.”
“I made her bed.” Cam mentioned, taking the statement literally.
From the other room, there was the sound of a blanket shifting. Nate turned to look at it, while Cam stood rapidly, her wings nearly taking out the potted plant that was the one concession to this place being a home that she’d allowed.
”Cam.” Nate said in his steady gruff voice. “Take a walk.”
”You mean go patrolling?”
”I mean take a walk.” Nate replied. “Go outside. Get some fresh air and a sunburn. Say hi to the zoo full of people we’re collecting down here. Get lunch, since one shitty chicken sandwich barely lasted this conversation.” He walked past her, hesitating before clapping a hand on her shoulder. “I’ll keep an eye on her.” He offered.
Camille didn’t actually know what to think about the command. But… it was Nate. And it did have the texture of a command. So she nodded. “I could check the perimeter.” She said.
”Sure. Whatever kid.” Nate shook his head, rolling his eyes as she walked to the door and glanced back at him before leaving. He took one more sip of his beer before she left, for show, before actually leaving the bottle.
Cam looked better. She was wearing shorts, and had done something different with her hair. Not something good, exactly, but it was something at all. To Nate, this was the equivalent of a full makeover, but more important was that she was talking. She wasn’t just following orders, she was thinking a bit more, acting a bit more. She didn’t actually have to be here in Townton, but she felt like it was important to be nearby for if the Crimson woke up, and she probably wasn’t wrong. But in that time, every time Nate made her leave the condo, she seemed to unfold a little more. A conversation here, a little encounter there.
Nate didn’t know a whole lot about being different. Fuck, half the reason for his old job with the FBI was that he was pretty far into the majority. But Townton… well, it seemed nice. Fucked up, broken beyond repair, but being repaired anyway. That might be a metaphor for a lot of the residents; he didn’t know, he didn’t do metaphors. It was a good place for Cam though. And Nate was trying to figure out a way to justify sticking her here permanently after this current thing was sorted out.
For now, though, he had someone he wanted to talk to.
Camille the Crimson had one of the bedrooms to herself. She had a nice bed with one of those memory foam mattresses, thin blankets and sheets so as not to overheat, and two different forms of medical monitor that were there to make sure she didn’t flatline out of nowhere. Currently, she had done something to both of them to trick them into giving normal readings, so Nate would have to look into that later.
”You’re awake.” He said bluntly.
The girl in the bed, in her underwear except for the tight bandage wrap around where he’d stabbed her through the chest under a week ago, didn’t respond.
”Okay, let’s try again.” Nate said. “You’re awake, I know it, and I’m not especially interested in your game.” He breathed hot air through his nose, wishing he’d kept his beer for this. “If you want to participate in this conversation, now’s the time.”
She didn’t say anything. Nate had seen a lot of people pretend to be asleep, and this Crimson was doing a shit terrible job at it. The thing was, sleeping people reacted when people spoke near them. She’d been in and out of consciousness for a little while, but now she was showing the signs of someone who was awake, and hiding it. Not someone who was recovering from blood loss, organ damage, and being hit in the head repeatedly.
”Alright. Fine. You get a monologue then. James would be proud of me, which is how I know this is a bad idea.” Nate scowled at himself, voice heating up to match the midday sun. “I should be getting in a gunfight with a priest or some bullshit like that right now, but I’m here with you. Bunch of our people went missing last night, and I’m here to watch you instead of being where I can help. Do you know how that feels?”
She might. He asked to give her an out. One last chance. But she didn’t take it.
So Nate just snorted again. “Asshole. I know you’re awake, and now you know you’re wasting my time. I’m not the kind of vindictive cunt that’ll blame you if my people get hurt while I’m not there, but I will be pissed if I waste too much time on this. So let’s cover some ground rules, real quick.” Nate turned his head to check the front room, before looking back at the damaged girl on the bed. “First rule, I’m not calling you Cam, or Camille. Ever. She got there first, and she’s more important than you, so pick a nickname if you want one. Second rule. If you hurt her? I will kill you.” He said the words without any emotion, just to drive them home. “Then I will work my way up your chain of command until I get to the Line, and bury him too.” Nate paused, watching for any kind of reaction, and seeing that she had clearly heard him. “But you be patient, heal up, don’t fuck around, and we’ll let you go as soon as you’re doing better. You know, and I know, that we can’t keep you as a captive. You’re a threat to every civilian in this town, and no one is going to trust you for a long time. So let’s make this painless for everyone, and never talk to each other again.”
Nate pushed himself off the wall and stomped out into the living room, grabbing his beer on the way past. It tasted a lot more bitter than the first sip had, and he scowled at the bottle, at the condo, and at the street below as he walked to the window to watch.
Down in the street, Cam was busy helping unload the fridge, while a pair of kid ratroaches that hadn’t been in the Sewer long enough to be forced into full growth by their dungeon clung onto her wings and laughed as she hoisted them off the ground in a show of strength.
Nate grinned for a split second, before finishing his drink, and sinking the bottle into the recycling bin in the kitchen in an underhand arc. The clatter echoed around the bare kitchen, glass clinking heavily on impact. “Good talk.” He said to the Crimson he was pretty sure could hear him.
He felt a little better. And he told himself that it was because if she healed that fast, she’d be out of here in a couple days, and he could get back to real work.
And that might even be part of the truth, too.
____
In the lobby of the Lair, Alanna was doing her best to wear a groove in the carpet in front of the main exchange desk. Much to the displeasure of Caller-Of-Midnight, the camraconda doing his best hissing scowl as she kept walking by.
The front desk itself had morphed over time from being a convenient flat surface that people set water bottles and car keys on, to the place where the Order handled distribution of its various magics to its various members. And also package pickup for the people who lived in the Lair. Empowered by an attached closet and more drawers than should have been able to fit in the space thanks to a few weird green orbs, someone had made it their personal project to lean into it being a streamlined and pleasant experience to trade your stipend for orbs, Climb delve slots, sewer Lessons, and just general enchanted items. They had actual scheduled shifts, trusted people who handled a lot of magical throughput, and even some kind of specialized computer inventory system that Research had provided that basically set the ‘prices’ whenever there was a change in circumstances.
This was more or less why there were both a series of screens showing what was available and at what rate, and also heavy brass stands with cloth dividers used to mark off lines if needed, the things looking like they belonged in a bank or a fancy nightclub. And Alanna was ignoring them entirely. If there had been a line, it would have been incredibly aggravating.
“I’m gonna kill him.” Alanna declared as she passed by an Anesh who was patiently waiting away off to the side, near the corridor of space they kept clear so people could get into the briefing warehouse more easily.
”Well that seems excessive.” Anesh replied. Another iteration of him looked up from his phone and tilted a hand up in a questioning motion. “Also counterproductive? Since, you know, the point is that we want him alive.”
Alanna ignored both her boyfriend. “And no one is panicking about this? No one seems to care that someone just vanished four people along with three city blocks?!”
”I’m panicking, to be clear.” Anesh said as he and Keeka walked up to the group, Keeka letting go of Anesh’s hand to move and give each other Anesh a shaking hug in turn. “But also I’m almost certain they’re not dead.”
”Which is good, because if Arrush is dead, I am going to kill him.” Keeka said, the lithe ratroach practically hyperventilating as he held tight to the last Anesh in his sequence of hugs. Voice coming out as a high pitched whine as he tried to play into the humor of his newfound family.
Alanna snapped her fingers, cocking a finger gun Keeka’s way. “That’s what I said!” She declared.
”You’ll have to rescue him first if you wanna kill him.” El said as she stalked around the corner from the elevator, hair chopped back to a pixie cut and a bandage on her neck just below her left ear. “Which we can do! I’ll help! And then I’m gonna kill Momo.”
”You are all so violent to the people you supposedly love.” Each Anesh picked a different person to give an exasperated sigh to. “Also Alanna, you are now actually in someone’s way.”
”Shit, sorry.” Alanna moved herself closer to the center of the lobby to let a couple newer members that she didn’t recognize yet get by. Caller-Of-Midnight cheering up immensely as he started talking to them and providing them with suggestions off the ‘menu’ of orbs that the Order had been building. “I dunno if I’m gonna get used to this.” She muttered.
”What, James being in trouble?” Anesh asked her with raised eyebrows.
Alanna blinked, shaking her head rapidly. “What? No, that’s… no, I got used to that, that’s fine. I’m just gonna be… let’s say about sixty percent as snarky as I normally am about it, and call it good. No, I mean the whole ‘giving away orbs’ thing.”
”We aren’t giving them away, people work hard for this.” Anesh reminded her. “Anyway, if we’re all here, shall we call this meeting of the worried partners society to order?”
Two of Keeka’s hands shot into the air. “I-I propose w-we go fight the Utah to get them back!”
El choked on a wet laugh that she tried to hide behind her fist. “Uh… that’s not really…” she caught sight of two Anesh softly shaking his heads at her, and decided to drop whatever acerbic comment she was going to make. “Yeah, sure. I mean, I’m not really on board, I just wanna help if it gets them back okay. Gonna prefer no fighting though. But hey, who doesn’t have to rescue their girlfriend from some new hostile dungeon from time to time?”
“Everyone here except me.” Anesh said. “Actually we could make our own club, El.”
”Is there a reason we’re still here?” El asked impatiently. “Not that I’m in a hurry, you know, to bail out my girlfriend from whatever shit you guys got her into. But I’d kinda like to do the teleport and rescue thing now.”
”We’re waiting on JP.” Alanna said. In another time, she might have been annoyed with El’s… well, everything. But now, feeling the maelstrom of anxiety and love the woman felt for her missing partner, Alanna found it a lot easier to be forgiving. It was a little weird how some of El’s emotions folded back on themselves, but Alanna was starting to realize that was what she got off people when they were trying - and usually failing - to hide or downplay feelings to themselves. “He’s coordinating a place for us to show up, since the last safehouse might be compromised or something. Also rolling out of the suburbs with a whole ass squad might be suspicious.”
”A what now?” El tilted her head back. “We’re not a squad. We’re barely a crew.”
”Oh, yeah, no. Agreed.” Alanna nodded at her. “That’s why one of the shield teams is coming. And they are a squad. Technically we’re following them, but they’re still new to a lot of the weird stuff, so… you know.”
Keeka nodded sagely. ”I know.” He said. And when everyone looked at him like they expected him to complete that sentence, he flushed a neon green around his eyes, ducking his head. “I… they need people to tell them.” He said. “Like we did. They would learn eventually, but we’re in a hurry. Is that it?”
”That… yeah, more or less.” Alanna shrugged. “Anyway, no one will approve my plan to kick in every door and demand answers, so we’re going with the less… uh…”
”Violent.” Anesh supplied helpfully.
Alanna crossed her arms and stared off at the column of terrariums at the front of the lobby. ”Yeah, the less violent option. God dammit, I’m so fucking angry right now.” She muttered to herself.
Keeka detached from Anesh and cautiously shuffled over to her, his split tail twitching back and forth along the floor from under his skirt as he approached and reached out to gently place a shaking paw on her arm. “It will be okay.” He lied to himself.
”Yeah, I know.” Alanna said easily, trying to help as she huffed out a breath. “I’m never letting James do one of these alone again. No idea what the hell I was thinking.”
El made a confused noise. ”You were thinking that saving people from burning buildings was a good use of your time, and Utah is a desert wasteland?”
”Utah actually seems pretty nice to visit, though it is far too hot this time of year.” Anesh sighed. “El’s right though, you were helping people, and James was supposed to be doing investigation, not… not…”
”Paladin things?” El supplied in a far too cheerful voice. “Whatever. I’m resigned to this. Isn’t the world fucking ending or something? We’re gonna have to get used to this. Everyone cash out on the purples that let you kick people through buildings, and get ready to never stop saving the dumbass you live with.”
”Well that’s… uh…” Anesh looked at one of himself, who just shrugged, while the other iteration of him continued with “…there’s a lot going on there. El, are you doing alright?”
”Psh.”
”Right, that’s… that’s about what I expected, yeah.” Anesh sighed. “I guess she’s right though. I love James. I trust him. But he can’t solve everything himself. Though I suppose that’s why Momo and Arrush were with him, but that can also be why we’re-“ He stopped talking as JP walked out of the briefing warehouse, Planner’s spectral tentacles trailing behind him like an ethereal secretary complete with clipboard. “Well?” Anesh asked instantly as Alanna tensed like she was ready for a fight and Keeka… actually did exactly the same motion. And Anesh had to admit that he found it very easy to forget sometimes that Keeka had fought in more battles than he probably ever would himself.
JP looked over all of them with an expression that straddled the line between puzzled and cocky. “I’m sure your menagerie of lovers appreciates your support. Go home. They’re fine. Same thing that hit our other rogues last week; some memory loss, and Arrush doesn’t know how to fucking parallel park to save his life, but they’re okay.” He stood there waiting for a moment, before adding, “I’m… not kidding. Go home. Or back to saving your own chunks of the world. Whatever you dumbasses do when I’m not around to drive the plot.”
Alanna nodded. “Okay. I’ve changed my mind, James gets to live, I’m gonna strangle JP.”
”I’ll help.” El advanced on their friend, hands outstretched for JP’s imminently wringable neck.
”I’m going anyway.” Keeka declared, ignoring JP’s sudden struggle for survival. He spun back to meet Anesh’s eyes. “I should… I should be there. Arrush might need me. Or… or something. I don’t want to not be there, if I can… if there’s… if something happens.”
Anesh nodded. “Agreed.” He said simply, so simply that Alanna could feel the confusion that filled the gap in Keeka’s emotions as half his worry was banished in an instant. “I’m also already packed. So let’s go. Alanna? El?”
”…If Momo’s not dead, she can handle herself.” El looked up from helping Alanna put JP in an armbar. “I’d get in the way. Especially in the suburbs, no time or space for Velocity recharging, which makes my special bullshit kinda useless.”
”I actually do have Response duties.” Alanna grumbled. “But if you’re going, I’ll feel better. And you can always call.”
Anesh smiled at her and waited for his partner to finish manhandling JP to give her a kiss. While JP straighten up and tried to comb his hair back to pretend he hadn’t just been tackled, Anesh brushed past him, patting his friend on the shoulder. “Thanks.” He said. “Fold one of me and Keeka into whatever plans you have. We’re heading down now and we’ll meet up with the others.”
”There’ll be a lot of Order in that city.” JP mentioned casually. “Along with maybe a whole pillar. You sure…?”
”JP.” Anesh said quietly. “I hear you. Things are getting weird, and a little out of hand. But you know, I’m not helpless. And besides, I’m James’ understudy.”
”For what?” JP asked before he could stop himself.
Anesh smiled. “For mouthing off to the godlike magical dickheads whenever he’s busy being shot at.” He reminded their rogue. “Now get me the address.”
JP nodded, and he took a piece of paper from Planner that came out of nowhere to present to Anesh, who started filling out a telepad, going over multiple pages as he prepared ahead of time for needing to blip back and forth between the safehouse and the Lair, while still leaving a lot of the book blank.
There was only a little hesitation and a few goodbyes before one Anesh and Keeka vanished from the Lair, backpacks full of emergency kit and also clothing slung over their shoulders. JP shook his head, already talking to Planner about scheduling for available backup and planning their next operation as they walked back into the rear part of the Lair.
Meanwhile, Alanna leaned over to El, looming over her a little as she made a conspiratorial comment. “I don’t wanna be one of those weirdos that’s obsessed with, like, combat as a kink thing or whatever.” She started. “But holy shit Anesh is hot when he talks like that.”
”Didn’t need to hear that thanks!” El shoved Alanna away with a palm in her face, the taller woman laughing boisterously as they both broke off to head back to where they were supposed to be today.
The two Anesh left in the lobby shook their heads at each other. “Well, good to know then.” One of him said. “Do you think Alanna forgets we’re here when one of us leaves the room? Because that has happened before.” He nodded to himself sadly. “I’d have thought she’d have learned. Anyway. Back to work on the Climb items?” His counterpart had a quick thought. “After we call James.” He said as they thought it at the same time.
Just because James was unharmed didn’t mean that Anesh didn’t want to check in on him. Even if his boyfriend would have one of him there with him to help out.
Anesh hadn’t really connected with himself for a couple weeks or so at this point, but he still felt like one person. And that one person still had an almost burning well of compassion and love for his partners. He’d never really thought of himself as that passionate, but now that he had some perspective on himself, from himself, he was finding it easier and easier to accept that it was just incredibly pleasant to love openly and vibrantly.
Even if right now, that meant calling his boyfriend to demand why he’d driven into a spell that wiped his memory.