“It is the belief of this author that the decisions one makes in this life are the meat and bone of what makes an individual a true entity. Frequently I am then critiqued for taking a simplistic view of the age old question on the duality of nature and nurture. I find those who are incapable of acknowledging that not every person in this great City has the same choices to be idiots. It remains to be determined if they will prove me wrong.”

-Augustus West, On the Nature of Power

I was well aware of the foolishness of dueling with Emiliana. It wouldn’t resolve the unpleasant, rotting knot of feelings that merely looking at her inspired. It wouldn’t change the way the notes in her song fell out of tune every time I entered her vision. It wouldn’t fix any of the multitude of issues in the quagmire of our relationship.

It would, however, make both of us feel a little better for a bit. A return to the good old days. When boy had met girl, but hadn’t yet fallen in love. Before any of the…. Unpleasant business occurred. I was still making the choice not to think about any of that. Right then I was just a hot-headed twenty something with a shiny new toy and the desire to hit something with it.

Emi agreeing to said duel made more sense. She just enjoys hitting things. That isn’t to say that she’s incapable of looking into the intricate depths of human connection, just that she chooses to solve problems in a way that cuts through the noise. Some see Augustus’ knot as a challenge, others just ignore the metaphorical rope and punch the guy holding it.

I’ll let you guess which camp she resides in.

As we walked to the Institute approved dueling grounds, I realized it was a fantastic time to learn more about the other members of the case study team I found myself a part of. Initially listening in didn’t give me any obvious ways to jump in, so I waited for an opportunity or a lull to join in. One that I felt comfortable taking never really popped up, I didn’t want to ruin their good moods with pestering, and they were likely better off for it. Nobody needed me pecking at open wounds, asking questions after what had just happened to us all.

Those pressing thoughts only kept me occupied until we neared the dueling grounds, at which point I had another choice to make. Was I going to utilize the Grey for this? Considering my general disdain for the technique, its conflicts with my Awakening, and just my general mood at the moment, I was inclined to say no. There was just one problem with not using it.

I would lose.

And I was so incredibly done with losing.

(https://www.youtube.com/watch?v=8SjLGOMtTWA)

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Emiliana

Watching Jay slip into the Grey pissed me off. He knew the cost of using it, and had decided to use it anyway. I could see him slipping back into the habits that had gotten him here in the first place. When he gets into that mindspace: tired, angry, and sick of losing he acts the same way every time. He takes the easy route to a simple win. Get a temporary high off the win, then gets surprised when the easy shortcuts to the win don’t continue working, puts himself down and then wants out of the hole that he’s put himself in.

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If he wasn’t so relentlessly selfless it’d be infuriating and pathetic. It still was both of those things, don’t get me wrong, but instead of inspiring disgust it made pity. It made people want to help him instead of beat the shit out of him. Well, maybe a little bit of both. Thankfully for me at that moment, the way to help him now was to beat the shit out of him. He needed to learn that winning wasn’t going to come from some temporary powerup his asshole of a father gave him.

Thinking about that man’s complete inability to relate to his youngest child only made me more angry, but that was ok, because I, like normal humans, had learned to have at least a modicum of control over my emotions. Was I particularly good at it? No. But rage? Rage and I were old friends, and I knew exactly where I could burn it off.

Now how to do it without hurting him too badly, that was the question of the hour, and I continued pondering it as we walked to the grounds. I continued to talk with Amora, Stephen, and Aminci.

Not all of us needed to brood alone to prep for a fight.

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Stephen

The duel was a horrible idea. I couldn’t believe that I was the only one seeing it. The string connecting the two looked more like a snake with rainbow cancer than any normal string. The complexity of it was astounding, and at any other occasion I would have studied it for as long as I could. The problem was the whole mess of a situation in front of me. Scions were supposed to be the best of the best, and two of the three here were about to fight each other for very serious reasons which were being hidden hilariously poorly, and the third looked completely calm about it.

I tried to keep calm.

I did not succeed.

I checked the exits again. Then reached for the one lifeline still nearby.

“You know this is a horrible idea, right?” I said to Amora, as she stood there, leaning against her spear, shield underneath her left hand. In that brief moment before she spoke she looked like what mountains strove to be. I had to resist the urge to start tracing her strings.

“On the surface, perhaps. Knowing what I do though, they both need this. I cannot gauge the specifics from their lights yet, but a little asking around has enlightened me a great deal. There is no other way for this relationship to progress to where it needs to without this.” Amora spoke

She had such confidence that Stephen found himself standing a little straighter just having heard her words. He wished he could feel that much, much less inspire them. He supposed it couldn’t be that bad if she was so calm.

“That being said, you should stand behind me. The same goes for you Miss Delgado. Those without a Primary Manifest tend to be much more physically vulnerable. I suspect we are about to get quite the show, and I wouldn’t want either of you to be harmed by it.” Amora stated.

Or maybe it was bad.

As I shuffled behind the surprisingly tall woman, I wondered if she’d let me peek out from behind her shield. That felt like the safest way I could see what was shaping up to be quite the shitshow.

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Aminci

If the two in front of me were the best of the City’s next generation, I suddenly had more worries about surviving to old age than I had a day ago. The boy was so incredibly broken I wondered how he functioned, much less bantered about with the girl across the dueling field from him.

She was less broken, but that didn’t mean she wasn’t. It also didn’t really convey the interesting way that her shroud was broken in and of itself. The edges of her breaks were incredibly sharp. The break along the center of her being was a chasm with teeth, consuming the rest of her like fire through a forest of oil and tinder. That type of rage burned out fast, I knew. I had run out of my own long ago.

I avoided looking down at my own shroud, noticing something interesting. The breaks in the West Scion were closing. No. not closing….. But being misted over? A fine grey cloud flooded his shroud, growing denser in the multitude of the fissures covering him. I had seen nothing like it before, and that in itself was interesting.

I ignored the platitudes the boring South Scion was spouting to the barely Awoken stuck with the rest of we monsters. Sad thing was practically shaking behind her. All their breaks were normal though. Nothing else of interest to see there.

The duel in front of me, however? That was shaping up to be quite the interesting bout.